Corrupted Crimson

by Patrick Laplante

  As time passed, however, he grew worried. He and General Qin threw one explosive flask after another, and they all landed on the Spirit Temple’s forces. They soon ran out of them, having only succeeded in destroying the western portion of the Spirit Temple’s camp. Now only explosive talismans remained. Feng Ming had to make a choice—would they target the munitions tents or the cannons?

  “To the munitions tents,” Feng Ming swiftly ordered. Their group, which had just suffered their first casualty, cut a wide arc as it circled around eleven large carts covered in black tarps. Their pace slowed as they approached, and the enemy’s forces mobilized against them.

  “Pick one cart per talisman,” Feng Ming said. Both General Qin and Feng Ming threw out one talisman at each of the ten carts simultaneously. They could only hope that they’d gotten the one with special ammunition. Feng Ming directed their forces to the canons to use their shields to defend against the explosion.

  “Charge!” the men yelled. Hundreds of red-armored men roared as they attacked the hundred-man team that was lucky beyond all reason. Blades that should have struck their necks slipped from the southern force’s fingers. Arrows missed their marks and struck their own men. Axes fell off their handles and weapons broke as they tried to stop them. By all rights, all hundred men should have died ten times over, yet only five brave men had fallen. The hundred men were like gods of war who couldn’t be killed no matter what was thrown at them.

  Fifty more feet, Feng Ming thought as he slashed and stabbed through soldier after soldier. The tall spider cannon’s legs were rooted firmly in the ground before them.

  Forty more feet.

  Their pace slowed to a crawl as the enemy successfully surrounded them.

  Twenty more feet.

  “Everyone, jump!” Feng Ming yelled. Each of the men, sensing the desperation in his voice, unleashed their secret techniques one after another. Icy flood dragons and fiery phoenixes cleared swaths of men out of their way. Earthen spikes and poisonous vines batted away enemy forces. General Qin even threw his treasured greatsword, which flew out toward one of the spider cannons and struck its leg.

  The sturdy structure collapsed under the 10,000-jin object and struck three other legs, causing the cannon to fall sideways and backward, crushing a hundred troops in the process. Now the cannon was facing the south.

  The startled southern soldiers collapsed under their fierce assault. As soon as Feng Ming’s group passed the invisible energy shield that had previously been defending the cannon, Feng Ming realized that it wasn’t enough. It couldn’t protect them from the back.

  “Everyone, duck and use your Earth Shield Talismans!”

  It suddenly dawned on the eighty-one remaining soldiers that the resulting explosion could easily take their lives. Fortunately, they weren’t stuck with mediocre Ice Shield Talismans but the extremely useful Earth Shield Talismans. The eighty-one overjoyed men activated them one by one, forming an impromptu convex wall to defend against the imminent explosion.

  “Will they succeed?” Marshal Yong thought as he looked worriedly at the live battle map. A large earthen shield had appeared just in front of a collapsed cannon. The building rumbled as their men absorbed yet another strike from the four old cannons and the newly installed one. If Deputy Feng’s team hadn’t downed that one piece of equipment, then the marshal and deputy marshal would have been forced to intervene. Even then, many of their men would have perished under the backlash of their formation.

  Deputy Marshal Mo sighed. “The original plan was for them to destroy the cannons, since the possibility of there being extra munitions was very high. But even if they destroy those munitions, can’t they always mobilize more and handle us just the same?”

  “Let’s wait and see,” Marshal Yong said. He held high hopes for Brother Feng’s only son. The room was dead silent as they waited for the inevitable detonation. A small glitch appeared on the screen as the talisman went off. One after another, they detonated. Large pieces of shrapnel flew from the munition wagons. However, these pieces of shrapnel were round.

  “Even that failed,” Deputy Mo said, shaking his head. “The munitions likely need a large impact to detonate. All they managed to do was scatter them, buying us a few hours at most.”

  After inspecting for another moment, he sighed. “They didn’t even get the key munitions wagon. All the spheres they spread out were black, while the last of the eleven wagons contains the clear spheres. It’s over, Marshal.”

  Many of the generals in the room’s eyes became bloodshot. They channeled even more of their qi into the formation, preparing themselves for their inevitable demise.

  Marshal Yong, however, stood staring at the battlefield projection. “Deputy Mo?” he asked.

  “What is it?” Deputy Mo grumbled.

  “Did you notice the direction that cannon is pointed in?” Marshal Yong said.

  Before Deputy Mo could comment, a deafening boom sounded. It was followed by hundreds of much smaller booms. The map distorted as the projection recalculated the battlefield. It wasn’t long before a small crater was revealed in the center of the map. It was surrounded by many much smaller craters. In fact, it seemed like at least half of the opposing forces had been destroyed in the explosion, and it was all thanks to the initial spreading out of the other munitions carts.

  “That lucky son of a goat,” Marshal Yong whispered as he reviewed the damages. “Without spreading out the munitions carts, we would have only destroyed a tenth of their forces. Even their cannons would have been fine. Now, not only have their munitions been destroyed, but so have the cannons and half their forces. All because the one remaining wagon with potent ammunition happened to be standing in the line of fire of the crippled cannon.”

  The other generals had halted channeling their qi. They looked on in awe as a valiant group of eighty-one men continued their charge through enemy forces. Little by little, these forces became aware of the group that was rapidly charging outward and began circling around them. Even with their previous domineering performance, it would be difficult to escape.

  “What are all you dolts waiting for?” Marshal Yong yelled. He walked toward a panel and entered some commands. Then he grabbed his own focus point. “System, activate the Life-Reaping Sword! Everyone, channel as much qi as you can. We’re going to save those men!”

  “That was the most exciting thing I’ve ever done,” General Qin said as he slashed through five men with his recovered greatsword. They could no longer advance, so they huddled together and fought for as much time as they could. The more men they took down, the safer the kingdom would be. “If we die, they’ll sing songs about us for the next decade.”

  “The next decade?” Captain Tong said. “More like the next century!”

  Feng Ming chuckled. “I don’t think our time is up yet, boys. We’re just killing time until the cavalry arrives.”

  “What cavalry?” General Qin said. “We’re eight miles away from the wall. What could they possibly do to help us?”

  Suddenly a large blue blade appeared in the sky and slashed beside them. A hundred men fell, their bodies completely burned to ashes by its overbearing strength. Feng Ming didn’t bother explaining. He and the men charged forward, but it didn’t take long for their enemies to surround them once more. Three more of their men died before the sword appeared once again and cleared their enemies like wheat on harvest day.

  “Press on, men!” Feng Ming yelled, not daring to be the least bit negligent. He and his men all wore grim expressions. They stood a chance, but how many of their men would die in the process?”

  Sweat ran down Marshal Yong’s face as he struggled to maintain the offensive formation. The Life-Reaping Sword was initially meant to attack at a mile’s distance, and doubling this distance quadrupled the energy consumption. Even by gathering every last drop of energy in the fortress, half the generals had already collapsed from exhaustion.

  Just two more strikes, Marshal Yong said as he channel
ed much of his remaining qi. The phantom sword reaped another three hundred lives with this strike, but the cost was staggering. Thousands of high-grade spirit stones were ground to dust while half of the remaining men in the fortress collapsed.

  “Deputy Mo,” Marshal Yong said. “We’ll need you to lead the forces for a few days while I recover from this last strike.” The deputy bowed and walked over to support the marshal as he popped yet another qi-recovery pill. Marshal Yong ignited his core and channeled the new thread of qi through the formation, finally clearing an exit for the forty-four remaining men. “That’s all I can do for them,” Marshal Yong whispered as he panted.

  Suddenly he felt a sharp pain in his back just below a shoulder blade. A look of shock covered the faces of the nearby generals as blood flowed through the marshal’s chest and mouth. His vision blurred as he sank down to the floor. He heard sounds of clashing armor, followed by the footsteps of generals dragging Deputy Mo from behind him.

  “Why?” Marshal Yong croaked as the world turned cold. He looked at the man he’d served with for a hundred years before realizing his eyes were different than usual. Thin crimson lines he’d assumed were fatigue ran across the man’s glazed eyes.

  “Ah,” the marshal whispered. “I’m relieved. You weren’t Deputy Mo after all.” He lifted his bloody hand to his face and looked out at the blurry battlefield projection. To his relief, Deputy Marshal Feng and his troops had managed to break free.

  “The Spirit Temple has suffered disastrous losses this time,” a man said as he stared into a crystal ball. “Wasn’t this stratagem said to be foolproof? Yet we lost five hundred shamans and half of our cannon fodder in the process. Meanwhile, they destroyed ten cannons that took us five hundred years to save for and a hundred years to manufacture. We could only recover scrap metal from what was left of them. We require an explanation.”

  “Relax,” said the soothing voice of a youth from the crystal sphere. “We have achieved two of four objectives. The marshal is dead, and one of our secondary objectives was completed. We didn’t take the wall down today, but it won’t last long.”

  “It’s easy for you to relax, when your Cult of Enlightenment only lost a few lowly members,” the man retorted. “You devils multiply easily, but we shamans might not see more than ten members in a single year. We’ll expect compensation.”

  “I’ll inform our lord of your grievances,” the youthful voice said. “In the meantime, proceed with the next phase of the plan and let our bosses have a chat about compensation. Though I have no idea why you’d want money of all things.”

  “We want money because it hurts you the most,” the man said. “You’ve sown karma by making a bad plan, so we shall reap it. We shamans always have our revenge.”

  Chapter 29: Upheaval

  A plain-looking carriage covered in green livery arrived at the Jade Bamboo Auction House at the crack of dawn. Like the many other businesses in Central Square, the auction house was abuzz with activity. The ovens roared as the cooks baked bread. Papers flew as the clerks organized themselves for their busy day. Only two people knew that all preparations were meaningless for what was to come. One of them was inside the auction house, while the other was in the inconspicuous green carriage.

  “Right this way, my friend,” Wang Jun said hoarsely. He broke into a fit of coughing, only stopping to wipe away a trickle of blood. He led the man to a room in the middle of the auction house that had been prepared just for the occasion.

  “I really hate wearing these hooded cloaks,” the man said.

  “This secrecy is necessary, Your Highness,” Wang Jun said as they entered a room at the center of the auction house. As they traveled through layer upon layer of formations, Wang Jun’s complexion quickly recovered. “If Prince Tian knew you were leaving the palace in these delicate times, he would undoubtedly think of a reason to stop you.”

  Prince Lei nodded. “It’s ironic being a prisoner in one’s own home. Though, can I still call it my home?”

  “Not after today,” Wang Jun said, shaking his head. “It will only become your home again if we win. Only death or exile awaits you if we fail.”

  The prince walked over to a strange golden globe in the center of the room. “And what about you?”

  Wang Jun followed him to the orb and began tapping various runic characters. They glowed with golden light that traveled to delicate lines in the floor connected to a mosaic of additional runes. “If we fail, I’ll lose my only chance at revenge. Then I’ll refuse to serve the new family head and live in exile for the rest of my life, living in constant fear of the most powerful financial group on the continent.”

  Prince Lei chuckled. “And here I thought you didn’t have enough skin in the game.”

  “We’re in this together,” Wang Jun said. “Are you ready?”

  “As ready as I’ll ever be,” Prince Lei said, slightly adjusting his royal garb. “Let’s begin.”

  “Owner, owner,” Tan Zhi yelled. “Two more plates of steamed buns. You know the ones.”

  An older man behind the bar nodded and made his way back to the kitchen. Tan Zhi was seated with six friends. They were adventurers, men who risked their lives for fame and fortune.

  “Heavens, I regret coming to this city,” Geng Jian said. “Who would have thought it would be so politically complicated to buy things in the capital city? We want to buy weapons, not sell ourselves into indentured servitude.” The man was in his midthirties, far older than the average adventurer. Most of them would retire before then, assuming they lived long enough.

  “Would it be so bad to join the Ma family, though?” Tan Zhi asked. “They’re offering a pretty good salary, far more than we can earn in even ten years of adventuring.”

  Two heaping plates of steamed buns were plopped onto their table. The six men pounced on them like ravenous lions. It wasn’t until the last one disappeared that they continued their conversation.

  “You can all do what you want,” Geng Jian said. “The only reason I’ve adventured until now is because I value my freedom.” Seeing their perplexed looks, he elaborated. “Do you think retiring is easy for an adventurer? By fighting with others in the woods, we accumulate both large fortunes and bad blood. The only way to retire properly is to pledge your allegiance to a noble or a merchant, the type that can protect you. They rope you in because they know that soon enough, you’ll find someone to start a family with and be trapped there for life. You give up your freedom for stability and a place to settle down.” Geng Jian spat. “I don’t want a life like that. I’ll live free until the day I die.”

  Suddenly, the sound of a gong interrupted their conversation. “Greetings, everyone, this is Prince Lei. I have an important announcement to make. It relates to an important event in our kingdom: my father’s illness and the selection of his successor.

  “I regret to inform you that I have recently discovered some startling news. My brother, Prince Tian, has conspired against my royal father by poisoning him with the venom of a qi-binding serpent. As such, my father is close to death, with little hope of recovery. I realize that many of you may doubt this accusation. That is why I demand a trial by inquisitor. Should my words prove to be false, I will commit suicide on the spot.

  “Now that you have been informed, it is time for me to share with you some important details regarding our united resistance against Song Tian.”

  The voice continued, but Geng Jian was no longer listening. He thought of multiple scenarios before coming to a reasonable conclusion.

  “We have to get out of here,” Geng Jian said. “Now!” He swiftly stood up and threw a pile of silver on the table, not bothering to count it. The five men swiftly followed him out of the restaurant and into a street that was becoming increasingly full. In the middle of their city district, a golden image of Prince Lei was speaking and providing instructions to the populace.

  “Why do we need to get out?” Tan Zhi asked. “Isn’t this a great opportunity? The noble families
will be bidding for us like mad.”

  “You know nothing,” Geng Jian snapped. “If we don’t get out now, we’ll have no choice but to participate in the conflict. Ours services will be steeply discounted, and as common sellswords, we’ll be the first ones to die.” Then he noticed that Tan Zhi’s footsteps and three others stopped. Only Liu Cai, the second oldest, was still following him.

  “We’re staying,” Tan Zhi said. “This opportunity is exactly what we’ve been looking for. This is where we make our fortune.”

  “Suit yourself,” Geng Jian said. “I hope things work out for you.” Then he sped off with Liu Cai in tow, hoping they weren’t too late.

  Lian Zexian was sweating. He had opened his store early, just like any other day, but unlike most days, it was unusually busy. He was initially overjoyed and had spent a considerable amount of time fawning over each of his customers. His hopes came crashing down once Prince Lei started his announcement.

  “It is likely that this city will become chaotic, but I urge you to maintain order,” Prince Lei’s voice continued. “Our faction headquarters are situated in the Jade Bamboo Pavilion, likely the most secure building in this city. I advise you to join my faction and take shelter there…”

  Most of his customers had filed out of the store to witness Prince’s Lei’s golden apparition, but four of them remained. Unlike before, they now carried large bags in which they rapidly stuffed whatever they could lay their hands on. They soon walked up to the counter.

  “That’ll be one thousand mid-grade spirit stones,” Lian Zexian said with a shaky voice. The “customer” raised his eyebrow. “I meant five hundred mid-grade spirit stones.” Seeing that the cultivator remained unmoved, Lian Zexian finally gave up. “I meant one hundred mid-grade spirit stones.”