Chapter 615

https://docs.google.com/document/d/1-LMw5XrYm3sbPSz1mz53hiL9Q3UywEJg2CvrBhRHMRs/edit?usp=sharing

The new Legate died, and what followed after was a tragic comedy of errors.

Even having lived through it firsthand, Binesi couldn’t make heads nor tails of the jumbled situation, and he hoped the historians wouldn’t bungle the job too badly in their ham fisted attempts to apply logic to this illogical chain of events. Two things were for certain though: today’s history would be written in blood, and there would be no victors.

Still reeling from witnessing the death of one Scion, Binesi cursed at the elder Scion who appeared moments too late to save Jixing, but all too perfectly timed to add oil to the fire. What reason did this old fart have to accuse Rain of rebellion? The boy risked his life approaching the Death Corps alone and unguarded in hopes of resolving this conflict without bloodshed, and any reasonable person would have accepted defeat. Now, a single Wraith and an incompetent guardian ruined all of Rain’s hard work in an instant, and Binesi was angrier with the Scion because he should at least know better. Because of his foolish, feckless screeching, Death Corps and Imperial Warriors alike were charging forward to fight instead of watching for subsequent Wraith attacks. Ever the hero, the Colonel General was already moving to intercept, his weapon hanging at his side so not as to convey the wrong message, and for this, he paid the ultimate price.

It all happened in the blink of an eye, but to Binesi, this singular moment stretched out into an eternity. Frozen in place and helpless to act, he watched as dozens of Wraiths appear just as the first sounds of battle rang out, having taken full advantage of Rain and Jixing’s verbal exchange to sneak in amongst the crowds of Concealed spectators. This was a target rich environment if there ever was one, and Binesi’s first reaction was not to parry the poisoned Wraith dagger plummeting towards his chest, but to get in position to defend the Colonel General, who was alone and exposed up on the stage. The Enemy couldn’t have picked a better time, for Binesi and the rest of the Colonel General’s guard were also standing in plain view, having revealed themselves to lend their names and support to Falling Rain’s proposal to have the Imperial brat Jixing stand trial on grounds of incompetence. They couldn’t well take the stage with the Colonel General either, so while he was standing within arm’s reach, a centimetre short was no different from a metre short when it came to matters of life and death.

Despite anticipating an attack, both the Colonel General and Binesi underestimated their foe’s speed and strength, for it was no Peak Expert Wraith who appeared, but the Bloody Confessor himself, looking resplendent with his perfect features despite being covered from head to toe in unrecognizable filth. His hooked sword flashed through the air and for a moment, Binesi almost celebrated the Colonel General’s quick escape, until he saw the first droplets of blood burst out in a spray of crimson mist. The Wraith’s dagger thudding into Binesi’s shoulder almost felt like an afterthought, the physical pain nothing compared to his inner turmoil as he watched Living Legend Nian Zu breathe his last. The pain gave way to anger, anger to wrath, so Binesi left the owner of the thrown dagger to die on Yukun’s spear and charged the hated Confessor with unbridled ferocity.

Even as he moved, he knew this was a mistake. This was not what the Colonel General would have done or wanted. He would’ve damned the losses to focus on the more pressing matter at hand, convincing the Imperial Scion to cease hostilities and reining the Bekhai back in, but Binesi was not the Colonel General. He was not built for command and held the rank of Major without having ever commanded a single soldier in battle, unless it was command by proxy. No, he was a simple mountain warrior who pledged his loyalty and allegiance not to the Empire, not to the Bekhai, not to the Imperial Clan or Army, but to a single man who saw the potential in a young, wild warrior from the mountains and gave him the help and guidance he so sorely needed. In return, Binesi swore to follow the Colonel General into the Father’s Maw itself if need be, but now, this was no longer possible.

Shooting Star Nian Zu, the guardian of the North, the Hero of the Wall, and the idol of three generations was dead, so Binesi see his killer dead even if it meant the Empire had to burn for it.

He was not alone in his thoughts, and though he stood closest to the Colonel General’s position, Clearsky Bao beat Binesi to the punch, howling in abject denial of what he’d just seen as his signature blue-steel sabre lanced towards Goujian’s chest in concert with a booming clap of thunder. A swarthy, heavyset man, Clearsky’s plump build belied the dazzling speed and inhuman agility which earned him his title, for no matter the weather, it was all Clear Skies for big Bao, the fastest man in all the North who travelled high above the clouds and left nought but thunder in his wake. The Clearsky Sabre met with hooked sword, and credit where credit was due, Goujian responded with a textbook parry, slapping the sabre aside with frightening precision and unholy strength. Despite having the full force of a horizontal Cloud-Step behind it, Clearsky Bao found himself batted aside like a ragdoll by his deceptively strong foe and immediately lost the initiative. It was a mistake to go in so hot, but Binesi could forgive his comrade in arms, because if not for Clearsky’s speed, Binesi would have been the one to suffer the consequences.

Which, as it turned out, was a shoulder check which caved Clearsky’s chest with an audible crack in and sent his corpse sailing back into the crowd.

Though horrified at the ease with which Goujian dealt with his comrade, Binesi’s righteous allowed no room for hesitation as he struck at the Confessor’s exposed back, whereupon he experienced the inexplicable strength of his foe for himself. The Colonel General had cautioned them to be wary of Goujian’s physical prowess, but there were no words to describe the vast disparity between his perceived and actual strength. The Confessor was no wilting violent, a tall, slim, willowy Martial Warrior rather than a hulking, musclebound one, but even the errant force of a rushed parry was enough to set Binesi’s teeth to shaking. Wielding his hooked sword like a paper prop, he flourished it in a dazzling display of speed, finesse, and control to prob Binesi’s defences, and even the slightest touch of their weapons left his hands numb and muscles strained. Once, twice, thrice they traded blows, and each time Binesi thought his end was nigh, but despite holding the upper hand, the Confessor fought using measured strokes and deliberate caution, his lower body locked in place as he twisted and contorted his upper torso to avoid pivoting or shuffling about.

Again, the Colonel General’s warnings came to mind, and Binesi made sure to share his findings. “His feet,” he called, and Yukun responded to the call, his signature Singing Spear warbling as it rippled through the air like a sinuous snake. In response, Goujian’s lower body rippled as well, seemingly moving left then appearing on the right to avoid Yukun’s attack, and again, Binesi responded in kind. “Partial Concealment,” he shouted, knowing Yukun and the others knew enough to pick up on the warning, but just to be safe, he Sent, “His hands and feet will lie, so watch his shoulders and hips for warning.”

Giving Binesi a brief look warning him not to teach his grandmother to suck eggs, Yukun fluttered about the stage and neatly trapped the Confessor between them. Immovable Binesi and Singing Spear Shi Yukun, how the common folk did so love to compare them, solely because they were the two most prominent spear users of the Famed Fifty. It didn’t matter that their styles were polar opposites and their weapons differed in almost every way save for name, they were spear users and that was the end of that. In truth, it was like comparing a wolf and a tiger, two predators who hunted in vastly differing ways. Binesi favoured standing his ground and using his advantage of reach against his foes, whilst Yukun’s spear was shorter and more flexible which combined with his flowing movements allowed him to strike from unexpected angles, especially if the opponent expected the Singing Spear to behave like a regular spear.

Goujian most certainly didn’t, which showed he’d done his research, aiming for the tip of the spear rather than the bendable shaft to avoid its flexible serpentine bite. Eager to take advantage of his foe’s distraction, Binesi shifted his grip to the end of his spear and slashed out in fair approximation of one of Yukun’s attacks, a diagonal, downward swing. So focused on countering Yukun’s unique attacks, Goujian failed to account for their different weapon types, because while a flexible weapon like the Singing Spear would condense and contract on impact, Binesi’s spear was thirty kilograms of solid steel and would not be so easily stopped. Striking the spearhead was enough to shift its horizontal momentum, but he’d anticipated as much beforehand and adjusted his aim accordingly, so when he followed through with his swing he landed a nice, meaty smack on his hated foe’s shoulder.

Only for the Honed tip of his spear to bounce harmlessly off of the Confessor’s filthy Runic robes.

Since when did Runic gear become so common place? These days it felt like every other Defiled bastard was kitted out in Runic armour, and now the Confessor even had a set of Runic robes? Unremarkable looking ones at that, and filthier than beggar’s rags, but so sturdy the Confessor barely even noticed the attack. Snarling with rage, Binesi abandoned deceit and subtlety in favour of overwhelming power, drawing his spear back and thrusting out with all his might at centre mass. There was no slipping aside for Goujian, not this time, and though the Runic robes the Honed spear from punching through his guts, the Confessor felt this strike as he doubled over with a strangled grunt.

Though merely a passable swordsman and mediocre duellist, the Confessor was a top-rate cockroach and not so easy to kill. Rather than resisting Binesi’s thrust, which would have seen his throat pierced by Yukun’s Singing Spear, Goujian surrendered to the flow and let the attack push him away to freedom, whereupon he Concealed himself and slipped away to hide in the massed, sprawling melee. Bekhai and Death Corps were locked in bitter combat all across the plaza, almost shoulder to shoulder save for a single noticeable gaping hole where Speaker Sarnai was currently unleashing all her pent up frustrations on the poor former Royal Guardian, Kuang Biao, while Falling Rain’s repeated calls to stand down fell on deaf ears. Young and talented he might be, Kuang Biao was no match for the Speaker’s fury as she beat her foe black and blue with frightening glee, reminding Binesi of an old joke the mountain people often told once they were certain the Speaker was well out of earshot. Baatar loved Sarnai not for her beauty, but because her predatory smile and fierce personality appealed to the animal in him, a proper she-wolf for the Bloody-Fanged Wolf within.

A joke in poor taste all things considered, but the infuriating woman actually took pride in the rumours, though Binesi always thought her more Dragon than wolf.

In the brief time spent searching for his hated foe, Binesi realized the Bekhai were still holding back, mostly because Kuang Biao still drew breath despite facing off against a superior and usually merciless opponent. All around the plaza, the Khishigs were disabling the Death Corps wherever they could and killing only when left with no other option. The Wraiths were not so fortunate however, all picked off and killed saved for two locked in combat with Akanai, virtually mirror images of the Wraith who killed Jixing right down to the flowing Western robes. Good to see that the Bekhai had not completely lost their minds yet, no doubt thanks to Falling Rain’s pleas, but Binesi feared the worst for his fellow mountain dwellers. There were plenty of politicians and opportunists who would be more than happy to bring the Bekhai down a peg or two. No doubt their Warriors were already gathering in force, egged on by the hateful Situ Rang Min, who was no doubt dancing with glee now that there was no Nian Zu to oppose him.

The fires of rage rekindled in his chest, Binesi roared in wordless threat at the offending Bekhai and Death Corps standing in his way. The Khishigs were quick to move aside, but the Death Corps less so, since they were Oath-bound to carry out the idiot Scion’s orders. Sweeping the offending Warriors out of his way, Binesi found his voice and bellowed, “Coward Confessor! Come out and face me!” With nothing to strike at, he unleashed his frustrations against the ground itself, slamming his spear down and shattering cobblestone tiles to reveal the foundation underneath. A mistake, not because it expended his strength or left him open to counterattack, but because by attacking the Death Corps, he became a viable target, and now they were compelled to kill him on orders of the Imperial idiot watching from on high. The dark-armoured warriors fell upon him without fear or hesitation, their attacks coordinated with deadly intent, and he soon found himself surrounded on all sides with no one to aid him. Cursing his stupidity, Binesi couldn’t help but admire the Bekhai fortitude for facing these fearless, unyielding Warriors without blinking while also handicapping themselves to avoid killing. Not many could do the same with any measure of success, but Binesi would not let himself be outdone, so he limited himself to cracking heads and breaking limbs while scolding the idiot up above. “You! The old dog-shit Imperial with his head up his ass! Call off your fucking hounds before I come up there and leave my boot in your ass!”

Hardly the most diplomatic request, but there was a good reason Nian Zu rarely asked Binesi to deliver his messages.

A familiar cry rang out from beside him, and Binesi turned to see Yukun struggling to keep Goujian’s hooked sword from sinking into his chest, the Singing Spear bent like a horseshoe with the sword caught in between. Three fingers were missing from Yukun’s left hand, a small price to pay for trapping the Confessor in place, but alas, Binesi’s distraction meant he was in no position to follow up.

Han BoHai made no such mistake, hurtling out of the skies like a stone launched from a catapult and landing with the same effect. Whereas Binesi’s tantrum shattered cobblestones, BoHai’s entrance sent stone and dirt spraying in all directions as he cratered the ground beneath his fist, only scant centimetres from connecting with Goujian’s chin as the hateful Confessor gracefully flipped aside, avoiding the attack and freeing his weapon from the Singing Spear in one fell swoop. Grinning like a fox, he delivered a powerful kick to the kneeling BoHai and sent him careening back into the crowd, but the Confessor’s joy was short-lived as his grin turned into a grimace. A pool of blood formed beneath his mangled foot, proving that his shoes were not Runic in nature and merely mundane cloth, while BoHai landed lightly less than ten meters away, his spiked Spiritual Gauntlets dripping with the blood of his foe. Even then, there was no satisfaction on the stony Warrior’s face, his expression cold and unreadable to all save for those who knew him best. “Years ago, you took my daughter from me,” the Major General said, his eyes unblinking as he squared off against the Confessor. “Now you’ve taken my brother-in-arms as well. This ends now, traitor.” Clanging his metallic fists together, the burly, towering Warrior said no more as he charged forward into a flurry of Goujian’s attacks, meeting each blow head on with a punch of his own and going head to head with a monster in human flesh.

This clash of titans overwhelmed all the other Warriors exchanging blows in the plaza, and as if by mutual agreement, they all shifted out of their way. Much like with Sarnai and Kuang Biao, there was no one within twenty meters of BoHai and the Confessor, and the two made full use of the space allotted to them. Opportunistic as always, Goujian kept to the edges and used the threat of killing Bekhai or Death Corps to force BoHai to meet his attacks, and the stalwart Major General was happy to oblige. Fist and sword met in a flurry of blows and the repeated impacts so deafening it was painful to listen to, but neither combatant seemed bothered in the slightest. As they danced about their duelling grounds, Binesi was struck by the conflicting inconsistencies between the two warriors, with bearish BoHai fluttering about like a weightless humming bird, complete with fists moving so quickly they were little more than a blur, while slim and compact Goujian moved with purposeful restraint and almost comical sluggishness in comparison. Despite using partial Concealment to hide the movements of his limbs, it was clear Goujian was carefully deciding each step well in advance, and this did not escape BoHai’s notice. No need to track your opponent’s movements when he made them so easy to predict, and the Major General took full advantage of this to land several big hits, aiming for Goujian’s exposed hands, face, and throat which were unprotected by his Runic armour.

Scant seconds passed and dozens of exchanges went by before Binesi realized his mistake. It wasn’t that BoHai was aiming for those targets because they were exposed, but rather that those were the only viable targets for him to attack. Blood seeped out from under the Major General’s gauntlets, his skin cracking and bones breaking from this heated exchange, but you wouldn’t know it from looking at his hardened expression. This was a man whose heart was gripped by blazing hot rage and mind locked in a prison of cold logic, one with a tenuous hold on Balance and desperate to keep it. Driven by purpose, retribution, and love, the valiant BoHai fought on, but still this was not enough. The Confessor was simply too physically strong to easily defeat, and only his innate restrictions, mediocre speed, and middling swordsmanship kept him from overwhelming victory.

To think... not a year ago, Han BoDing defeated the Confessor with barely any effort, and the Han Patriarch’s strength couldn’t be too far off form BoHai’s, else one of the feuding brothers would have long since killed the other...

Cursing himself for a fool the second time, Binesi stopped gawking at the battle and focused on the battle around him, but even then, it was an uphill struggle if he wanted to free himself from the press of Death Corps and lend a hand to the Major General. Despite his obvious efforts to spare his opponents, the dark-armoured Warriors showed no gratitude for his mercy and offered no quarter in return, their black-steel halberds working in concert to push him to his limits. Soon, it became a question of his life or theirs, and reluctant as Binesi was to kill Death Corps Warriors, he was even more unwilling to lay down and die. Resigning himself to whatever might come, he brushed aside a wave of attacks and drew back for a wide, retaliatory swing which would see a good half-dozen Death Corps dead.

Only to stop short as an air born Death Corps Guard crashed into Binesi’s assailants and sent them tumbling away.

“Tch.” Sucking her teeth as she appeared at his side, Speaker Sarnai casually brushed her bangs out of her eyes and glanced over his wounds. Though almost three decades his senior, Binesi could see why Baatar was so enamoured by his prickly wife, even affectionately calling her his ‘mountain rose’, for she was a handsome woman even here in the twilight of her life. “I met your wife once, during a meeting between the villages,” she began, grimacing as she did. “A real shrew of a taskmistress. I imagine I would never hear the end of it if I let you die on my watch, so be a dear and go stand somewhere safe so I can focus on what’s important.”

The odd mixture of motherly concern and casual disdain defeated Binesi before he could even think to retaliate, and he could do naught but watch the confident Bekhai Warrior stride towards BoHai and the Confessor with singular purpose. “Be ready,” she said, to no one in particular, but the intended recipient was no doubt listening, as were the two duelling titans. Their battle even sped up another notch, to Binesi’s profound amazement, for he could not believe that both Warriors still had more to give. Now, BoHai was desperately fighting to offer Sarnai an opening while Goujian was trying to end things before he presented one, and every exchange felt like it could be the last as they clashed again and again with reckless abandon.

As for Sarnai... she tucked her spear into the crook of her arm and leaned it against her shoulder, all but putting aside the weapon for focus on her empty hand.

No... not empty, for contained within her elegant grasp was enough Chi to distort the light itself, twinkling in the palm of her cupped hands like countless shards of glass. “Now, she uttered, and cast her hand out towards Goujian. Sensing danger, he gathered his strength to leap aside, but even though he began before she even uttered her words, it was already too late as those shards of Chi lanced into his exposed ankles and rendered both feet to a mangled pulp. Howling in fury, the inhuman Confessor still reacted quickly enough to avoid a direct strike from BoHai’s fist and turn it into a glancing hit, though the serrated edges make a mess of his once perfect face, but even this was not enough. Abandoning the sword altogether, the Confessor lashed out with his fist and clipped the Major General in the chest, and for a moment, Binesi feared BoHai would meet the same fate as Clearsky. Fortunately, the Han Clan took better care of their exiles than the Situ Clan and BoHai’s Runic breastplate held firm, though Binesi was certain the Major General suffered more than a few bruised ribs as he was sent crashing back into the crowd of Khishigs and Death Corps.

Despite their minor victories, the Imperials paid a heavy price to bring Goujian low, with Nian Zu and Clearsky Bao dead, while Shi Yukun and Han BoHai were injured and likely out of commission. Even the injuries seemed like too dear a price, and Binesi mourned the loss of his comrade and commander, but he was determined to put an end to the Confessor himself.

Except once again, he was too slow.

Ever since he married his beloved Asane and adopting two beautiful sons, Binesi had never once held firm to any delusions of grandeur. Yes, he was a Peak Expert, one of Nian Zu’s Famed Fifty, a warrior of renown known all across the Empire, but only with respect to the Living Legend. Peak Expert was merely another step along the Martial Path, denoting one had mastered all the tools needed to push further ahead, so there were bound to be vast differences in strengths among Peak Experts. There were those who stood at the pinnacle like the Colonel General, Akanai, or the likes of Mitsue Juichi and Shuai Jiao. Then there were those who seemed fated to join them, like Sarnai and Baatar, BoHai and BoDing, and yes, even those promising talents like Gerel and Kuang Biao, but Binesi didn’t belong in any of those tiers. He had no Talent or Blessing, no gift for command or gift for combat. He was a standard Peak Expert with nothing to separate him from the rest, a glorified guard whose sole purpose on the battlefield was to ensure Nian Zu’s safety because Peak Expert was as high as he would ever go, the limit imposed upon him by his natural talent and lacking comprehension. There were geniuses, and then there was Binesi, whose claim to fame was not defeating said geniuses, but standing firmly against them. Hence his title, the Immovable, a man whose strength was good enough to test those supreme talents, but not enough to surpass them.

There was nothing wrong with knowing and accepting one’s limits, for limits were made to be broken, but Binesi never thought Situ Jia Yang would be one to surpass his own.

Appearing on stage in a blur of motion, the once-disgraced Lieutenant General swung his heavy sabre with both hands and severed Goujian’s hand from his wrist. Unwilling to admit defeat, the Confessor fought like a cornered beast, scrambling around on three bleeding stumps while screaming indistinct obscenities at his foe, but Jia Yang stood unperturbed by the animalistic madness on full display and fought with singular purpose and focus. To Binesi’s horror, the Confessors wounds were Healing before his eyes, feet and hand regrowing with startling speed as the Confessor gave way to the Demon contained within, devolving from handsome, relatable, and perhaps even charismatic rebel to reveal the savage, raging Defiled hiding underneath. Stark through the contrast might be, the Confessor’s strength improved by leaps and bounds as those measured movements gave way to unhinged frenzy which tested the limits of human endurance and flexibility, his body moving in ways man was never meant to emulate. Joints popped, bones cracked, and muscles tore as the Confessor sped up, shifting about on all fours and lashing out with clawed hands and bared teeth like a beast in human skin, one so ferocious even Nian Zu or Akanai might have difficultly keeping him contained.

As for Jia Yang? Binesi’s peer who would never care to admit it? The laughable Situ clansman who tried so hard to ride Nian Zu’s coattails and pouted when his Hero didn’t give him special attention? The stuck up, arrogant punching bag who thought so highly of himself despite his long list of disgraceful defeats? The idiot coward who thought thought running off to Central for ‘military experience’ killing farmer rebels and tainted villagers meant he would be treated with respect by true Northern Warriors who cut their teeth and earned their rank killing battle-hardened Defiled and Demons?

That Jia Yang fended Goujian off with almost casual ease, his weapon moving in hypnotizing circles as it smashed into his foe time and time again. With every pass of his ‘Dragon’ sabre, it emitted a ghostly metallic howl as it cut through the air, and Binesi was brought back to the tender years of his youth. Oh how they all made fun of Jia Yang when he first showed off that pompous weapon, calling it a showpiece more suited for the mantle than the battlefield, but hearing it now in the hands of a competent Warrior, Binesi fought hard to keep from shuddering at the sound of its keening, piercing cry. This was Situ Jia Yang, a man Binesi always scorned as a weakling and looked down on as a dog-shit commander, showing the Empire that he was, in fact, one of the greatest Warriors of his generation.

Oh how the times change...

Awestruck as he was by Jia Yang’s transformation, the Confessor’s continued survival didn’t escape Binesi’s notice. Those Runic robes would take some effort to punch through, though not too much considering how much Chi the Confessor was wasting on regenerating hands and feet that were just instantly lopped off. With Kuang Biao occupying Sarnai’s attention once more, Binesi took it upon himself to lend Jia Yang a hand. Leaping into the fray, he slammed his spear down point first expecting to pierce through the back of the Confessor’s exposed head, but to his surprise, his Honed Spear glanced off his hunched foe’s skull and left little more than a cut behind. A deep cut, but hardly the sort of wound one expected from a full spear thrust, and more akin to something suffered from a careless shaving accident.

Was the Confessor turning into a Demon? But there was no unnatural rippling of space and matter, no palpable presence of the Father here to guide his foul creation. Monstrous though he actions might appear, Goujian was still wholly human in form, which only made his inhuman movements all the more unsettling. One moment he was skittering about on all fours, then he’d somersault sideways on one hand and one foot, tumbling horizontally to one side rather than vertically ahead. Alien as his movements were, no one could deny their effectiveness, and Binesi found himself hard pressed to keep up. If not for Jia Yang’s uninterrupted stream of attacks, Goujian might very well have escaped into the crowd, but with Binesi’s help, they kept the crazed Confessor penned in and chipped away at his Chi reserves bit by bit. It didn’t take long for him to realize his opponent’s weakness, and once again, he informed his comrade in arms. “He’s moving on instinct,” Binesi Sent, though Jia Yang gave no sign of acknowledgement. No, he was too focus on the attack to deviate, but he was listening, Binesi was sure of it. “I’ll feint and bait him to defend, while you attack.” Without waiting for an answer, he carried out his plan, jabbing at the Confessor slowly enough for his weapon to be grabbed, but withdrawing quickly before those powerful hands clamped down and tore his weapon away. Seizing the opening, Jia Yang delivered a powerful chop to the Confessor’s lower back, driving him to the ground whereupon he rolled and hopped away on his hands. Unnerving to see a man move like that, but Binesi pressed on, giving his foe another opening by stepping within arms reach. This time, Goujian’s fingers brushed against the bottom of Binesi’s boots and almost threw him off balance, but he recovered by jamming the butt of his spear against his foe’s wrist before retreating to safety. Again, Jia Yang landed a decisive blow, one that would have seen an unarmoured man bisected from shoulder to opposite hip, but still the Confessor’s Runic robes held.

It took three more tries before Binesi convinced the Confessor to expose his neck, simply by sacrificing his ankle to the frenzied beast and gritting his teeth as his bones crumpled like paper. It was worth it though, as he watched Jia Yang’s eyes light up and his sabre crash down, aimed perfectly at the Goujian’s neck. A great hero died today, but at least his death would be avenged, and Binesi committed the hated Confessor’s dying breath to memory, where it would forever be preserved in his Natal Palace.

The sabre kissed the back of Goujian’s neck and crashed into the cobblestone beneath, yet there was no squelch of flesh or crack of bone, no spray of blood or gurgle of death. There was only Binesi’s crushed ankle gingerly raised in the air, Jia Yang’s sword embedded in the ground, and empty air where Goujian’s corpse should have lain.

“Enough.”

Uttered with the force of a thunderclap, the word rippled through the chaotic plaza and stilled the Warriors within. A pressure fell over Binesi’s shoulders, a cold, invisible presence which set his mind to screaming of danger and panic flooding into his veins. Baleful Aura penetrated through his own, crumbling his resolve with such ease it might as well not have been there, and for the first time in his fifty seven years of life, Binesi knew true terror.

For there, in the skies above the Northern Citadel, stood two twin Demons holding the unconscious Confessor between them, their black-armoured forms seemingly a mockery of the Death Corps Guards. They were not the source of Binesi’s terror, however, for above them, stood a god in mortal flesh. The Divinity was portly, but not excessively so, the result of muscle packed to the brim beneath skin straining to hold it. The face was handsome in its own way, with full, round cheeks and large, prominent ears, and piercing eyes that seemed to see into Binesi’s soul without needed to even glance in his direction. An Ancestral Boar, the Divinity bore the mohawk so commonly associated with those wild bristleboar beasts, and stood in Imperial territory without a care in the world, for such was the power and arrogance of a Peak Divinity, a being who might well stand above all others in existence.

The Immortal Zhu Chanzui.

Doom had come to the Northern Citadel in one form or another, so Binesi resigned his fate to others and moved to guard Nian Zu’s corpse. Chances were, it would be destroyed in the clash between Divinities alongside every other living soul in the Citadel, but so long as Binesi drew breath, the Enemy would not have Nian Zu’s...

...

.......

Where was Nian Zu’s corpse?

Author’s Note: So yea, like I warned some of you on discord, this chapter is pretty much all rehash. I know its a bit much to take a two paragraph fight and turn it into a full chapter, but one: i didn’t set out with this goal in mind, and two: couldn’t help it. All these peak experts needed to shineeeeeeeee, though I will admit I forgot to include relevant like… Domain things, which was initially one of the reasons why I wanted to do this. Mea Culpa. I got too excited imagining the epic clash and forgot to add in like… more plot relevant details. I’ll get it in editing for sure tho, so expect some changes this weekend probs. Anywhos, sorry about the rehash and lack of progress this chapter, but sometimes, the creative juices just take over and we end up with a 5.5k word fight