by E. M. Hardy
Shen Feng’s attention sharpened, and he knelt on one knee as strength flowed back into his body. “I will serve with every fiber of my being, your highness, and I thank you for your mercy.”
Chi flooded back into the world the moment that Shen Feng knelt and confirmed his obedience to the Empress. Yao Xiu gasped as the warm, invigorating energy surged through her body once more. She was not alone in her joy, for nearly everyone in the camp exhaled in shock as they regained their connection with the vital force that they knew as Chi. She turned a questioning look at Martin’s walker, but it had already turned around and joined its brethren as they helped the prisoners get back on their feet.
***
Yao Xiu stepped back from the tent flap as she tried to listen more closely to the discussion going on inside.
“I’m sorry for what I did, Feng. This is the least I can do for you… and for the people I… you know.”
“Save your apologies for someone who cares, you soul-sucking, corpse-raising monster.” The general’s voice was hot and harsh, with a slight tremble to it. “How am I going to face my ancestors, knowing the men and women under my command died without ever getting the chance to meet their ancestors?”
Silence for a few moments, before movement rustled within the tent. Yao Xiu stepped off to the side as the walker shuffled outside, its ceramic shoulders slumped. She watched it walk away from behind, and wondered why Martin was the one acting like he was the defeated party.
She then cleared her throat and stood at the threshold of the tent. “Ambassador Yao Xiu, requesting an audience with General of the White Tiger, Shen Feng.”
A grunt, deep with irritation, before a response. “Enter.”
A tear in the roof of the tent allowed enough sunlight in to illuminate the confined space, revealing the general as he sat on a creaking stool, his forehead still containing traces of dirt and mud that he hastily wiped away. His muddy, dented tiger helmet lay on a nearby table that was cluttered with unfurled scrolls, marked maps, and toppled figurines.
“I just came to check on you, General Shen Feng,” said Yao Xiu as she stood at attention, trying but failing to emulate the rigid stance of trained soldiers reporting to their superior officers. The general either had the good grace not to mention it, or he was simply too tired to notice.
“No you didn’t. You’re here under the orders of the Empress to receive my report on what happened.”
“Err… yes. That too. But I thought I would start by asking you how you are. These developments, they must not have been easy for you.”
“That is an understatement of the greatest proportions.” The general sniffed before taking a sip of tea, then sat back and breathed in a deep, satisfied sigh. “I expected my head to be severed from my body by now before my body was quartered—a traitor’s death. Instead, I not only have my life but my position as well.” The general was trying to be as flippant as he could be about his ordeal, but the slight tremble in his voice and the nervous chuckle that followed revealed his anxieties.
Yao Xiu dared a smirk, which bought a raised eyebrow from Shen Feng. “Yes, I simply cannot imagine what it feels like to tremble in terror when being accused of treachery by someone of authority with the power to follow through with the threats they make.”
The general narrowed his eyes, and she thought she had overstepped her bounds right before the general chuckled. “Heh. I guess Martin is rubbing off on you, isn’t he? No, wait. You always did have a tendency to run your mouth even when you knew it’ll get you in trouble.”
Yao Xiu let out the breath that she had been holding, and joined him with a chuckle of her own. “We find ourselves in agreement over this matter, honored general.”
The man groaned, rolling his eyes before pushing himself off a stool. He rummaged around a nearby table, clearing off some of the clutter to produce a teacup. He grabbed another errant stool, and set it down beside his. “Have a seat,” he commanded. Before Yao Xiu could nod her assent, he had already gone to the low-burning fire within his tent, poured the long-boiling tea into the cup, and handed it to Yao Xiu. “Here. Might as well share a drink with me since this will take some time.”
“Um. Shouldn’t I be the one serving tea to you? I mean, you are ol—”
“Oh stuff it. I’m tired, Ambassador Yao Xiu, so just shut up, enjoy your tea, and listen to my report.”
***
“What do you mean, the Chi just disappeared?”
The general grunted, playing with the lip of his empty cup as he stared holes into it. “I mean exactly what I said. The air just felt dead—devoid of any Chi whatsoever.”
Yao Xiu hummed, then perked up. “Yes, that’s exactly what I felt when our convoy entered the vicinity of the swamp pyramid. It was… disturbing, to say the least.”
“Tell me about it. One moment I and my forces are pulling Chi, throwing it around and reinforcing our bodies. The next, I feel like a weak pup sapped of all his strength while Martin’s walkers proceeded to walk all over us.”
“Walk all over you?”
“Literally. His walkers, those damned things, suddenly became, stronger, faster than any of us. They even put down their spears, stopped pelting us with javelins, and outright walked all over my men and women. The walkers would manhandle us like you would a stubborn child, ignoring all our blows and reaching out to pull us down one by one.”
That rang alarm bells within Yao Xiu’s mind. “General Shen Feng, did you notice when this first started? You mentioned that you had already been sieging Martin’s pyramid for a few days, and were even seeing success in the latter parts. Did something different happen around the time that the Chi died from the air?”
The general frowned and scrunched his eyebrows. He was lost in thought for a moment before his face lit up as he made the connection.
“The martial artists… everything changed on the day when the martial artists broke through the walls and started fighting. We lost Sword Maiden Xing Nuan right before the Chi disappeared. You don’t think…”
It was Yao Xiu’s turn to frown, though hers was filled with sadness instead of anger. “Yes, it’s most likely Martin’s fault. He has the ability to absorb souls, like the invaders he is preparing to fight against. I can only assume that his sudden control over Chi was due to… devouring the soul of Sword Maiden Xing Nuan.”
She sipped her now cold tea. Shen Feng noticed this and grunted as he got up, filled another set of cups, and passed one to Yao Xiu. He waved away her protests as he sat back down, pondering the color of his tea while waiting for it to cool.
“I’m sure you heard my earlier exchange with Martin.”
Yao Xiu muttered a light curse as she spilled some tea on her thumb, clearly taken aback by the general’s statement. “W-what? What exchange?” She tried to sound as innocent as she could while sucking on the burned digit. Realizing her gaffe, she turned red, pulled her thumb out of her mouth and shook it in the cool afternoon air instead.
She was so flustered that she didn’t notice the general’s eyes blank out as he stared at the hand with the burnt thumb. It was only for a moment though, as he quickly gathered his wits about him to bring the discussion back on track.
“You know, the one you were eavesdropping on. The sun was behind you and casting a shadow on the canvas, revealing the shape that looked vaguely like this one particularly nosy historian that I know.”
“Umm…”
Shen Feng waved her off as he continued his story. “I promised him safety as a vassal of the Empress as long as he submitted to her rule. No matter what excuses I make, no matter if I plead that I had no choice because of the orders I received, it is still a fact that I betrayed his trust and thrust a dagger into his back. He would be well within his rights to demand whatever he wanted of me, especially since he beat back my forces in such a dramatic turn of events. By the ancestors, I believe he could have simply wiped us all out, sucked our souls and raised our bodies to
turn against the Empire if he wanted to.
“And yet the man behind the puppets chose to spare us. The moment he gained the upper hand, he stopped looking at us as an enemy to slaughter but as prisoners to subdue. His walkers even began putting down those that had risen from the dead. Not only that, but he pleaded for my sake, arguing that I would be able to serve the Empire after the betrayal of the Three Sages. After all I did to him, I should be thanking him for showing such grace and mercy. And yet… and yet I can feel nothing but contempt for him. I think it would have been better if he simply let us follow through with the Empress’ punishment.”
Yao Xiu listened silently, the burnt thumb forgotten as Shen Feng confessed his anxieties to her. When the general went silent, expecting a reply, she thought long and hard about what she was going to say next.
“I… honestly don’t know how to respond to that.”
The general chuckled again, this time with a tinge of bitterness that he quickly smothered with a sip of tea. “Bah. This is unbecoming of me. The General of the White Tiger, complaining to a waif of a girl. Unacceptable.” He finished off his lukewarm tea with a gulp and stood up, his face turned away from Yao Xiu. “My apologies. I don’t know what came over me. I will prepare your written report, have a runner send it along within the next hour.”
The young historian glared at the general—not moving from her stool—until he turned around and gave her a questioning look.
“Honored general, you insult me if you think that I am not concerned about what happened to you. I am neither one of your soldiers nor am I a gossip, so you lose no face no matter what you tell me. Can I come up with an answer to match the wisdom of the Sages? No, but I can at least share your burdens by the mere act of listening.”
She sat straighter, crossed her arms over her chest, and did her best to frown in displeasure. “So please, honored general, do not be so quick to dismiss me.” She then turned her frown upside down, a gentle smile filling her face. “And besides, I am pretty curious to learn more on what happened. As a student of history, and all that.”
Chapter 26
Martin hesitated as he watched the swarm of scarabs crawl all over the hot sands with their spindly legs and glowing crystals. From what his eyeballs could make out, there were around 8,000 of the beetle-like constructs patrolling the area around the ruined pyramids. There were probably even more hidden underground, after he had accidentally unclogged the tunnels blocking the ruined pyramids. They were an imposing sight, out in the open like that and in such concentrated numbers.
Except Martin had not only brought more walkers, but his walkers were a lot more capable than they used to be.
When he got past the shock of being attacked and the sting of betrayal, the events at Leizhu Swamp proved to be quite the boon for Martin. Yes, Shen Feng’s forces were able to do a ton of damage to the outer walls of the pyramid. However, they never managed to do any real harm where it mattered—the facilities. They were not able to reach any of the functioning production vats and power generators. All they came across were the ruined facilities—facilities that Martin’s dolls had immediately began repairing as soon as Shen Feng’s forces were recalled back to their garrisons in and around the province. Not only was Martin able to churn out more troops when he needed to, but the repaired generators allowed him to control more constructs at the same time.
This was why he had 14,000 walkers forming up behind the dunes around the ruins, beyond what the massed scarabs could see. He had enough walkers to not only surround the entire ruins in a circle three-walkers deep, but also to support the encircling force with smaller companies of 250 walkers where needed. Once he had them in position, he would send them off charging as one to envelop the scarabs—pinning them in place and crushing them from all sides using their shields and maces.
And then there were the souls he had absorbed.
It disturbed him how addictive the whole experience was. It was like peeling open a ripe fruit, ripping out the tough exterior to get to the sweet, juicy flesh underneath. The only problem was that Martin had bought this fruit with the lives of men and women he was trying to protect. Each dying breath released a puff of ethereal matter that he greedily snuffed into himself, empowering the walkers that were linked directly to his consciousness. His thousands upon thousands of mental fragments grew sharper, reacted faster. The ceramic bodies of his walkers also became tougher, capable of withstanding forces that would have damaged or even destroyed them outright, while being able to exert more force as well.
The soul of the martial artist had been an exceptionally potent boost—one that had revealed to him the secrets of Chi.
He was not only capable of perceiving the flow of Chi within his surroundings, but he found that he could also pull at it if he focused hard enough. The Chi would then flow into his walkers, bringing it into their bodies while simultaneously draining it from the environment. This allowed Martin to significantly reinforce the physical capabilities of the walkers depending on how much Chi there was in the area. It also proved to be the decisive factor in his victory against Shen Feng’s soldiers, who had depended on Chi to support their every action. Without that Chi, they not only lost most of their abilities but also ended up so unnerved that Martin had an absurdly easy time subduing them. Chi-enforced walkers against a weakened, confused, and demoralized force trapped within the oppressive walls of an ancient pyramid? It was no contest.
Out here in the desolate sands of the Bashri Desert though, the Chi was exceptionally thin—almost non-existent when compared to the abundant mass found in the Leizhu Swamp and in other parts of the Ren Empire. Still, there was enough ambient Chi to give his walkers a slight boost in capabilities. Nothing dramatic like the rush he had experienced in the swamp, but sufficient enough for his walkers to gain a significant increase in speed and reaction times.
After sapping as much Chi as he could from the environment, Martin sent his walkers rushing in—their shields raised up and their maces ready. The scarabs were caught completely off guard, trapped within the confines of the ruins and capable only of firing off sporadic bursts of laser fire as they tried to form up.
Things were different this time around, though.
Instead of the scarabs sweeping their lasers across the mass of walkers and trying to hit as many targets as possible, they began focusing their lasers directly at a single walker. Martin felt the heat building up in the shield of a chosen walker, but he would have none of it. That walker fell back while another set of walkers occupied its space and blocked the focused lasers with their own shields. He repeated this with every walker that the scarabs concentrated their fire upon.
In the meantime, the ones that were not being focused down rushed ahead, moving as one and falling back whenever they ended up being targeted. Sometimes he reacted just a tad too late, with the scarabs tagging a walker that had extended beyond the lines. He lost about three dozen walkers before he found the right tempo of marching, blocking, and shifting back behind the lines.
Another difference was that the scarabs no longer rushed in a suicidal charge to meet Martin’s walkers. They seemed to know that they were cut off on all sides, so they compressed and began streaming into the underground entrance. They couldn’t escape into the tunnels fast enough though, as Martin’s walkers managed to close the distance and started smashing away with their maces and shields. The scarabs fought back viciously, lashing out with their claws and trying to drag walkers into their teeming mass of limbs. Martin, however, had the discipline and coordination to keep his walkers tightly in formation. Block, swing, smash, step. Block, swing, smash, step. This process repeated thousands upon thousands of times as the hours passed, and Martin eventually managed to surround the tunnel entrance itself.
By his rough estimate, he had only destroyed about 2,000 scarabs, the rest successfully fleeing into the tunnel. He had a walker jut out its shield as it peered inside the tunnel, and it buckled backwards as it instantly
absorbed a hail of laser fire from scarabs lined up in neat rows inside.
Yes, the scarabs were more organized now. Gone were the mindless suicidal charges that he expected from the insectile constructs. They now acted with far more intelligence and reserve than Martin was comfortable with, taking defensive positions and concentrating their fire for maximum effect.
Which was why Martin had acted with just as much reserve.
A thousand walkers methodically marched through the main entrance, shields up and shifting back as their shields absorbed focused laser fire from the scarabs massed at the end of the tunnel. Where he would have had them rush headlong before, he now had them advance slowly while rotating walkers and shields to prevent the lasers from burning them out. This paid off when they crossed a T-section and another group of scarabs opened fire with their laser crystals—a tactic that he had employed while defending his own pyramid. The lead walkers took some laser fire, their ceramic bodies crumbling from the intense heat, but the walkers behind them flowed into the side-tunnel with their shields up and ready. Slowly, steadily, the walkers advanced while the scarabs retreated—pouring laser fire all the while.
And so this went on for a day, two days, then three days. He did not commit more walkers than he absolutely needed to, which was why the vast majority of the attacking force idled outside the ruins. He only brought in more walkers when those already inside needed additional reinforcements to cover their flanks and investigate tunnels that branched out in all directions.
One thousand walkers became two thousand, then four thousand, then six thousand. Sometimes the scarabs would pull back into a dead-end, where Martin’s walkers would corner and then crush them in a frenzy of swings and bashes. Sometimes the scarabs would pull his walkers into a trap and crumble a few walkers in a crossfire of superheated light before another set of walkers took their place and continued the march. Sometimes he would encounter large crystals on their pedestals supported by additional fire from scarabs, and he would lose a few more walkers in the advance toward the crystals. His walkers came across dozens of production vats that were forming out scarabs, and every time he would place a guard team of walkers to immediately destroy those scarabs as soon as they came out. He eventually came across the kill room, but he ignored it and instead opted to scour the entire complex before rushing in.