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Chapter 695
🕑 Added 2021-04-25 23:56:26 +0000 UTChttps://docs.google.com/document/d/1I6m7h5Gitxy5W8CN598gyDpneW3A-l2Hj8XCrKnNNTs/edit?usp=sharing
Body aching from head to toe and mind throbbing with every beat of my pounding heart, I stand over my defeated foe and relish the sweet taste of victory.
For all of a single, infinitesimal fraction of a moment, until the Heavens step in and say to me, “Fuck you in particular.”
Reality ripples before my eyes and sets my stomach to churning, a visceral response to this glaring violation of natural law, a transgression which taints the very air inside the Abbot’s tranquil abode. The weight of the world bears down on me as the Confessor’s headless, herculean body convulses to the beat of his pulsing, palpitating heart. The rhythm swells in both cadence and volume until it threatens to overwhelm the senses, and it is all that I can do to retrieve my sword and retreat from this monstrous manifestation, as thousands upon thousands of severed slivers of souls slip their chains and emerge from within the Confessor’s repressed psyche. A black, writhing mass of despair and dysfunction, many of these Spectres were birthed by the Confessor himself, his constant inner turmoil over decades of fiendish existence an ideal breeding ground for these tortured, half-living remnants of humanity, but their numbers pale in comparison to the grudges born from those he tortured and killed. Creations of wrath, resentment, rage, and hatred, these Spectres spring forth to consume most of the Confessor’s soul before it can pass on into the afterlife, chaining a tortured remnant left behind to this unholy existence so that they might use his physical form to experience the vicissitudes of life once more.
Or so the Spectres believe, and if there was only one, singular Spectre in the mix, it might even work, but with so many hands fighting to steer the ship, the end result can only be described as a godless abomination.
The Confessor’s body writhes and pulsates in a way that has nothing to do with physical movement, reality as we know it twisting as millions of fractured Intents vie for ultimate domination, all of which transpires in the blink of an eye. Rather than one Spectre emerging victorious, the end result is a vile and corrupt amalgamation of something that resembles a soul, yet is still wholly lacking in almost every important way. This is the worst that humanity has to offer made manifest in reality, a profane creature that is anathema to life itself, for it lacks that true spark that we humans and animals hold within ourselves that separates us from other living things like plants and microbes.
Quite simply, this Demon lacks a true soul, and for this reason alone, it will hate anyone and everyone who does have one.
So it is for every other Demon in existence, as they seek to consume and become whole, or failing this, destroy that which they cannot have, driven by the lingering animosity severed from human minds and souls and set free into the Void. A calamity of our own devising, as it were, but philosophical musings will have to wait as this War of Spectres culminates in an inevitably Pyrrhic victory and the Demon emerges from within the Confessor’s flesh. His flowing Runic robes adhere to his pale, pasty flesh, both of which take on a vivid, visceral scarlet hue as blood seeps out of his pores to stain cloth and skin while reforming his severed limbs with ease. Coming to its feet like a vampire rising from the coffin, the Demon strikes a stance reminiscent of a Brotherhood monk, with palms pressed together and neck bent as if his missing head was lowered in prayer. All around us, the bodies of fallen Chosen and slain Wraiths melt into piles of black sludge, all of which writhes and courses towards the Confessor as if still alive. The nightmarish ooze adheres itself to his body, rippling and swelling to form eight, obsidian limbs, each one so dark they seem to drink in the light itself. Four long arms emerge from his back, two slipping under his regular arms while the remaining two hang over, while four nightmarish human legs are arranged in a crab-like formation horizontally around his hips. Each limb is so massively oversized they dwarf his herculean figure, and yet even then, his transformation is not yet done. Two massive hooked swords emerge from his topmost hands, weapons reminiscent of the one he used in life, only longer than his towering, transformed body is tall. Cast in the same ebony shade as his extraneous limbs, the weapons emanate a black, nightmarish light, one which wriggles and writhes about the blades as if possessed of a life of its own, the stuff of death and suffering made real like a poison of the soul and mind.
Finally, three burgeoning masses burst out of his neck, each one taking the shape of the Confessor’s missing head, their expressions distorting and contorting as the Demon struggles to decide on what appearance to take. When the struggle subsides, each head displays Goujian’s face in life only in a twisted caricature of emotion. Rage, despair, fear, and agony, his faces flash though these and a thousand more expressions, only for the heads to collapse in on themselves before splitting into three again, all pressed together cheek to cheek to form one red and black head with six eyes, three noses, three mouths, but only two ears on a skull wider than the norm. The left face of wrath, the right face of despair, and the central face impassive with eyes closed in quiet contemplation, the end result is a Demon that almost seems holy if depicted in a colourless sketch, yet would never be mistaken as anything but evil when seen in real life.
And so, here stands the Bloody Confessor, in all his unholy abnormality.
In an effort to stop this depraved transformation, I deploy my Domain and try to reject this existence from reality, to cut off Goujian’s corpse and the Spectres within from accessing the Energy of the Heavens, but the creature’s Domain is inviolable. Even Honed Domain is of no use here, despite having worked so well to help sever the Confessor’s still living flesh and secure my victory, leaving me with nothing to do but stand and watch as this Demon’s transformation completes. The left and right faces blink as they come into focus for the first time, only to immediately dart towards me in a mixture of fear and rage. Microseconds later, the central face’s closed eyes snap open and emanate a piercing beam of blood-red light, twin lasers which hit me with the force of a thousand hammers. The world blurs by only to stop all too quickly as I smash into the stone wall for the second time today, and long seconds pass before I’m back on my feet. By the time I’ve found my bearings again, with help from the Guardian monks, the Demon and Defiled are nowhere to be found, fleeing as quickly as they arrived without any warning.
Glancing at the four, formidable guardian monks, who are merely standing around with looks of concern, I stifle the urge to criticize them for letting the Enemy flee unhindered, but I suppose some of my frustration must have shown on my face. “Eh-Mi-Tuo-Fuo,” the oldest looking monk intones, offering me a slight bow with one hand raised in prayer. “This monk and his three brothers were entrusted to defend the Brotherhood from external threats, to do what our brothers can and will not. Though we are not constrained by the Noble Eight-Fold Path, we do our best to adhere to it whenever possible, for sin only begets sin. Their spirits are broken and thus our foes have fled, both from here and the monastery proper, so this monk saw no reason to pursue and continue the bloodshed.”
“Sin begets sin.” Trying something new and exciting, I think before I speak and try to see things from the monk’s perspective, but in the end, I cannot agree with his decision. “But half-measures benefit no one. How many people will those Chosen Peak Experts and Half-Step Divinity Wraiths kill now that they’ve escaped unharmed? What of the Demon Confessor? Better to remove them from the board now, so that they can cause no more harm in the future.”
“A view which is only Right if those Chosen and Wraiths are beyond redemption,” the elderly monk replies, and there’s nothing I can do but sigh before his boundless optimism. At least he didn’t say anything about the Demon, who I know is beyond saving. I managed to free Bei’s soul from the grips of her captors, but she died all the same, so what was the point?
“Is it worth it?” I ask, not to question his beliefs, but because I truly want to know. “How many Defiled can you save, and how can you ignore the cost in lives when seeing how much pain and destruction they create?”
“The Confessor was famed for his severe measures,” the monk replies. “Better to kill a thousand innocents than suffer a single Defiled to live, such was his mantra. This monk believes the reverse, that it is better to spare a thousand Defiled than kill one who can be redeemed. As for the cost, you act as if the Defiled are the only ones who kill, maim, and torture their own kind, overlooking the atrocities committed by those born and raised in the Empire proper. You ask how I can ignore the cost in lives? This one is but a humble monk, and thus can only take responsibility for his own actions. What others do is up to them, so this monk can only hold true to his Path.” Sensing we’re at an impasse, the monk smiles and dips his head in quasi-apology, a sorry-but-not sorry sort of thing, and we both agree to disagree on the matter for now as Taduk, Lin-Lin, and the rest return to check on our status and I have more pressing matters to attend to.
Like hugging my sweet, adorable, shockingly powerful little wifey.
There are so many questions I want to ask, so many mysteries to unravel, but as I hold her in my arms and spin her about, all my curiosity melts away and is replaced by love and affection. Her loving gaze and cherubic smile set my heart at ease as I touch my nose to hers, our foreheads pressed together in quiet contentment as we bask in our boundless love. She’s worried I’ll ask questions and doesn’t know how she will respond, but if she’s that concerned, then I am more than willing to wait. This is my sweet wifey after all, the woman I love and intend to cherish for the rest of my life, and perhaps even beyond that if possible. Who am I to begrudge her a few secrets, especially considering how many I have of my own? “Love you, wifey,” I whisper, for once, getting the first word in as Lin-Lin struggles with what to say, and seeing her delighted expression is worth more than all the riches in the world.
“Love you more, hubby.”
And that’s all we need to say. Whatever Lin-Lin’s secrets might have, she keeps them for a reason, so I will not press her for answers just yet. She’ll tell me when she’s ready to tell me, and not a moment sooner, so I hold her close a little longer until Taduk clears his throat to break the silence. Cheeks burning from embarrassment at having forgotten about our audience, I put Lin-Lin down as Taduk points at the corner and asks, “Wonderful victory and all, Rain my boy, but what do you intend to do with him? Surely you aren’t going to...”
As if afraid to give voice to the issue and will the matter into existence, Taduk trails off before completing the thought, but I’m afraid I’ll have to disappoint my silly Teacher today. “Yes,” I reply, trying to sound both firm and respectful at the same time, but to my ears, it sounds like I’m asking for permission instead. “I do, and nothing will change my mind.” Unless, you know, Taduk or Lin-Lin tells me not to. It’s almost impossible to say no to either of them, for no other reason than because I love them so and do not want to disappoint them.
Nestled in my hair, Pong Pong notices what we’re talking about and radiates disapproval, but he’s a grumpy goose who’s even more anti-social than I am, so his opinion is invalid. That being said, he’s a real homie who stuck around even when things got bad, and I’m pretty sure I would’ve died to Goujian without his help. Even though Pong Pong never revealed his presence, he lent me a hand when I was stuck on the back foot and getting pounded into oblivion, using Deflection to draw all of Goujian’s attacks to my upraised shield and somehow blunting the impact of his blows by spreading the force to the air and stone around me. A subtle working of Chi that I don’t entirely understand, but there’s no denying his efforts, or the touch of his curious Aura of concern and consideration asking if he should intervene. The little guy is really smart and knows to keep his head down, but I didn’t know he was smart enough to understand I didn’t want him interfering at all. If he did take action and was noticed doing so, then it could be construed as breaking the Treaty, seeing how he is a Divinity-level existence after all. Granted, he never signed anything and the Treaty is worth less than the paper it’s written on, assuming it’s even a written agreement, but if an all-out battle was to break out here in the Arid Wastes, the Brotherhood would have to bear the costs which is not an outcome I was prepared to accept.
Thankfully, Pong Pong’s interference went unnoticed in the grand scheme of things and I not only survived the endeavour, I also emerged victorious. I really should take some time to go over how I won and did what I did, but not only am I tired and aching all over, I have the mother of all headaches from overusing Chi. While I can technically replenish my Chi faster than I can spend it thanks to Devouring, there is still a cost associated with using it, one that I suspect is similar to muscle fatigue, only for that theoretical metaphysical spiritual system through which we control Chi. Unfortunately, even though I know it exists, I have no idea how it’s structured or laid out much less the mechanics behind it, so I have no idea how to alleviate Chi fatigue except with time and rest, albeit with a bit of insomnia sprinkled in as an added effect.
Worst of all? Refining my body into a Spiritual Heart took up almost all my reserves of Heavenly Energy, and not it takes ridiculous amounts of Chi to Heal. I have some guesses as to why, namely there’s more metaphysical mass to fix, which means my tried and true tactic of ‘give flesh, break bone’, is no longer efficient when taking Chi expenditure into account. Overusing Chi for long periods of time is partially responsible for how I went full crazy and developed a split personality, an experience I am not willing to go through again, so I’ll have to make some big changes to fighting style or prepare to pay the exorbitant price.
Regardless of all these issues, I have more important things to attend to besides bitching and moaning, namely the matter which Taduk finds so concerning. Releasing my sweet wifey from my warm embrace, I unwillingly part from her side and signal for her to stay back where it’s safe before leaving my weapons behind and taking a circuitous route to the corner in question. Without looking directly at my target, I use my peripheral vision to study him and wonder if I’ve made the right decision, because up close and without Concealment, tigers are kinda fucking terrifying. Then again, Rakshasa probably makes most tigers look like sweet, purring kittens, for he is the Hercules of tigers. Built like a truck and almost as big, the formidable floof is pressed against the corner with fangs bared and hackles raised, not so much terrified as he is wary of my presence and warning me not to get any closer. Respecting his demands, I stop and turn away, not presenting my back to the ferocious predator, but not facing him directly either, all while wondering how to tame this ferocious beast.
Because let’s be honest here. I have a floof-hoarding problem. Admitting it is the first step on the road to recovery, but that’s a long and arduous journey which I am not yet prepared for, so what harm can there be in collecting a few more beloved pets? Plus, tigers are awesome. Who doesn’t want one? Especially one who can neutralize my Aura, and various other forms of metaphysical attacks as well. Apparently, Rakshasa is immune to Kukku’s Dream Bawk, which really deserves a better name, but I’m a big fan of clarity and simplicity. Dream Bawk is short and to the point, so Dream Bawk it will be, which is already an improvement from “Dream Cock-a-doodle-doo”. More to the point, the tiger isn’t exactly evil, not in the grand scheme of things, he just has a taste for human flesh and would love to expand his palate and learn what Kukku and Tai Shan taste like as well. I mean, Rakshasa is a tiger, so I can’t really blame him for wanting to eat meat, but he’s gotta learn that friends are not food.
Maybe he’ll enjoy a diet of fish. Or pigs. Or half-pigs. There’s way too many of those last ones running around for my liking, so I might as well cull the population a bit and put them to good use...
Pettiness aside, I noticed that when the Divinities all stepped aside, Vyakhya left Rakshasa here to keep Kukku from putting all the Chosen and Wraiths to sleep, but the traitor didn’t know I could see exactly where the big tiger was hiding. A born hunter, Rakshasa instantly noticed my attention and froze in place, continuing to emit his bone-shaking growl while inwardly deliberating between flight and fight while I traded blows with the Confessor. There was also a third option, which was to ignore me and go straight for Tai Shan and Kukku, who were cowering in the corner with the Abbot’s comatose body under a hefty cloak of Concealment even I could barely pierce through. How Rakshasa found them so quickly is a mystery to be sure, but something kept him in place while I fought with the Confessor, and during their haste to escape, no one thought to bring Rakshasa with them.
Poor, abandoned kitty. It’s okay though. You can come live with me, okay? Never mind that I used my Domain to keep Vyakhya’s Sendings from reaching you, ones that were probably giving you commands to escape, and you’re only still here because you’re worried I’ll come over there and stab you. I bet that wrinkly monk doesn’t take good care of you anyways, just look at how filthy your coat is, all covered in mud, sand, and blood like that. Why don’t you come live with me instead? We’ll get you out of the heat and into a nice, comfortable bath, then I’ll break out the brushy brushy until your fur shines in the sunlight, yea?
Emanating all these emotions and more, I try to get in touch with Rakshasa and show him I mean no harm, but the tiger isn’t having any of it. As his growls increase in both volume and pitch, I realize all too late that my Aura isn’t getting through to him because he’s treating it like an attack and blocking it alongside everything else, which means I’ll need to make friends with the tiger without my greatest tool of all. The last time I tried something like this without Aura, I almost got killed by a Spiritual Snake, but a lot has changed since then. Mostly, I’m older now, and taller too, with more meat on my bones that makes me a tastier target, but nothing ventured, nothing gained.
Luckily, I know exactly how to speak to animals, and felines in particular. “Here kitty, kitty, kitty,” I purr, patting the ground beside me. “PsPsPsPs.”
As Rakshasa’s furry expression twists in frenzied rage and savage violence, I realize I’ve made a huge mistake. Launching himself towards me with feline grace, the majestic tiger is a sight to behold as my life flashes before my eyes, the scenes overlaid atop visions of Rakshasa’s gaping maw and extended, dagger-like claws. Instead of crashing into me like a wall of teeth and muscle however, the tiger skids across the stone floor as his expression takes on a tone of almost comical disbelief. Turning his upper body away even as his feet slide towards me, Rakshasa scrambles in place for all of a second before bolting back to his corner even faster than he left it, but it’s already too late, for Emperor Pong has taken action and his Excellency is not pleased. Eyes wide with stark terror, Rakshasa hunches in place while staring at the turtle sat upon his snout, trembling from head to toe in acknowledgement of the powerful predator before him. No longer growling, the poor, pitiful tiger emits a plaintive, pleading groan, and my heart aches to hear it despite having just almost been killed by the same beast. What can I say, I’m a sucker for a cute face, and despite his obvious ferocity, Rakshasa is absolutely adorable, a chonker of a tiger with the biggest, saddest eyes I’ve ever seen.
Haha, you are captured, stupid beast!
Having tamed the ferocious feline, Pong Pong cranes his neck towards me and lifts his head in smug satisfaction, as if to say, “I’m still stronger than you.” His point made, he turns back to Rakshasa and marches up the tiger’s face before planting himself comfortably atop the furry, comfy head with an audible, squeaky sigh, the majestic Emperor of Turtles seated atop his feline mount.
Tentatively extending my Aura towards Rakshasa, I offer my sympathies and try to tell him that things won’t be all bad, and this time, my message gets through. The tiger isn’t having any of it however, and offers no reaction besides a sideways, distrustful glance. Unable to resist any longer, I shuffle closer and reach a hand out to pet him, only to realize I’ve somehow summoned Unity back in hand, probably during that chaotic moment when he launched himself at me and I panicked. Peace and Tranquility are also here, the shield in hand and sword sitting in its mounted sheath, all of which appeared with little more than a thought. How I managed this is a mystery to me, one which again bears more study, but aside from knowing it’s not telekinesis and more of an attractive force between myself and my weapons, I’ve nothing else to go on. It’s like I can create a magnetic field that attracts only my Spiritual Weapons, but the inner workings behind it are beyond my understanding, for now at least.
Putting my weapons aside yet again, I finally pet the tiger and find his fur as pleasant as expected, soft and silky with more than a hint of durability, without impacting the sheer comfort. “Hello Rakky,” I croon, and the tiger’s ears flick at the sound of his truncated name as he regards me with wary curiosity. “We’re gonna be the best of friends, just you watch.”
Ignoring my teacher’s sigh, I flash Lin-Lin an impish smile and beckon her over to pet the tiger, which she does with guileless glee. Though Rakshasa is still terrified of Pong Pong, he accepts our attentions with casual indifference though after a minute of soft, tender ministrations, he lowers his head and leans into Lin-Lin’s touch, so she no longer has to stand on tippy toes to massage his cheeks. Eager to meet a new friend, Ping Ping runs a few circuits around Rakshasa while emitting squeaks of delight, until the tiger lifts a paw and sets it down atop her shell as if annoyed by all the movement. Shaking him off without any visible effort, the sweet girl squeaks some more but remains standing in place, until Rakshasa accepts his new place in life and lies down at Pong Pong’s behest, allowing Ping Ping to finally snuggle up beside him.
See, there are no evil floofs, not really. Even if Rakshasa technically means ‘man-eater’, it’s not like he was killing for fun. He just thinks people are tasty, which I can’t really hold against him. I mean, Zabu is known to eat the odd person every now and then, though he limits his meals to people trying to kill him, so as long as I teach Rakshasa this same level of restraint, we’ll just be the best of friends.
Unless he eats one of my rabbits or laughing birds. If that happens, I will turn him into a rug so fast he won’t even know what hit him.
Emitting another groan at my inadvertent Aural warning, the tiger huffs in protest, but his desired effect is ruined by the sight of Ping Ping rubbing her face in his floof. Patting his head in commiseration, I note that my Aura seems a little too easy to use now that I’ve got a Spiritual Heart, with emotions spilling out without even thinking. Something to figure out later, but for now, I back away without turning around, as I feel it is still unwise to present my back to Rakshasa. Even the wildcats took a while to train that habit out of them, as the instinct to pounce upon a helpless target is just too strong to easily overcome, so it’ll be awhile before I’m wholly comfortable with Rakshasa. That being said, there’s no way I’m not gonna at least try to be friends first, because... well, because tiger.
Seriously. Who would say no to a pet tiger?
Bringing Lin-Lin back to Taduk, I turn to Guard Leader and take in her nubby horns and gorgeous face before offering a clasped-fist salute while bowing at the waist. “Um,” I begin, wishing I’d kept my mouth shut until I decided what to say. “So... err... I don’t know how to address you anymore. Teacher says you’re not married, but I can see there’s something between you two, and I don’t want to offend.”
“Good child.”
Patting my head ever so lightly, Guard Leader smiles and simpers even as Taduk harrumphs and crosses his arms. “No need to be so polite, Rain my boy. There’s no relationship between us, and there never has been. She is not my wife, nor is she Lin-Lin’s mother.”
“But I will be,” Guard Leader declares, bold as can be, and there’s nothing Taduk can say in response. “So there’s no harm in calling me ‘Mother-in-Law’ or ‘Teacher’s Wife’.”
Even though the latter sounds better in Common given how it’s an actual term of address similar, I still can’t bring myself to stop translating everything in my head. That being said, Taduk looks like he’d actually be offended if I called Guard Leader ‘Mother-in-Law’, and Lin-Lin doesn’t seem all that comfortable with it either, so I aim for the middle ground and say, “How about I call you Lord instead, assuming Vyakhya was right and you are the Territory Lord of the Saint’s Tribulations Mountains.”
Huffing in displeasure, Guard Leader narrows her eyes and makes a silent promise to exact her vengeance upon me once she finally wins Taduk over, and for a moment, I wonder how my teacher could possibly be so cold-hearted as to reject such a beautiful and willing woman. Then again, not everyone’s standards are as low as mine, and maybe Taduk has good reason to rebuff her advances, though I can’t really come up with any valid reasons. That being said, Guard Leader takes a step back and nods at my suggestion. “Lord is acceptable,” she begins, turning her gaze to Taduk with a smirk before adding, “Or you may call me by the name your teacher gave me, Hua Lie.”
Her name is ‘Gorgeous’? I mean, she’s not wrong, but still seems a little conceited. Then again, Mei Lin’ means ‘beautiful jade’, so really, who am I to judge?
“Tch.” Sucking his teeth in annoyance, Taduk stomps his foot down in pure frustration, more aggravated than I’ve ever seen him. That being said, knowing he’s an Ancestral Beast changes things ever so subtly, because despite his exaggerated actions, I now know just how much strength he’s actually holding back. That’s probably why he kept his heritage a secret, because he knew people would treat him differently regardless of their intentions, because even I’m wondering if he’s truly upset or just putting on a good show. Taduk deserves better than that, so I will do my best to treat him like I always have, with all the love and respect in the world. “I’ve said it before and I’ll say it a thousand times again,” my goofy teacher declares, standing tall and proud as can be. “Just because I blurted out my thoughts and called you gorgeous the first time I saw you does not mean I fell in love with you at first sight.”
...Oh that’s adorable.
Responding as if they’d had this argument a thousand times before, Hua Lie smirks and ignores Taduk’s statement while emanating an air of superiority as if she’s already won, which my teacher simply refuses to tolerate. However, since he can’t come up with anything to say to her, he turns to me and wags his finger while wearing the sternest expression I’ve ever seen him use. “And you, don’t you dare encourage her. This descendant of a disease-riddled fur-bag of a vermin is my greatest nemesis and you will treat her as such, understood? Never mind anything she does or says, all her efforts are undertaken with ill-intent.”
With the daintiest of snorts, Hua Lie retorts, “Ill-intent? Is wanting to have your child really so terrible?”
“You stupid, idiotic creature.” Offering no mercy to the woman who only just voiced her desire for him, Taduk takes hold of her white-furred rabbit ears and lifts them up, ostensibly so she can hear him better. “How many times must I tell you before you will listen? A hare cannot breed with a rabbit. They might look like similar animals, but they are different as night and day, to say nothing of the illustrious creatures that are Cloud Chaser Hares compared to flea-ridden, herb stealing Bicorn Bunnies.”
“True.” Nodding in perfect agreement, Hua Lie adds, “But I am not a rabbit, and you are not a hare, not anymore. How can we know if we can or cannot have a child if you will not even try it?”
I’m starting to understand Taduk’s refusal to accept this beautiful woman as his wife. There’s no love or affection in the way she treats him, only casual familiarity and friendliness. Add in the fact that her desire for him is rooted in her desire to have a child by him, and things get really uncomfortable really fast. I mean, there’s nothing inherently wrong with her wanting a child, but to bring a baby into the world for the sake of experimentation just feels wrong. What’s more, the child of two Divinities will also be a Divinity, or so I’ve been told, which is just all sorts of terrifying. I mean, I love kids and think they’re adorable as hell, but I’ll be the first person to admit that they can be a real handful, especially after the age of two. Terrible Threes, Fearsome Fours, Ferocious Fives, and more, things only get worse as children age because they’re just so pure and innocent as babes.
Personally, one of my greatest fears is Tali and Tate becoming actual teens and developing an attitude like most kids their age. That would just be the absolute worst. Add in the powers of a Divinity and that’s just a disaster waiting to happen.
All this being said, I take a step back from Taduk and Hua Lie’s argument and sidle up to my sweet wifey instead, offering her a look of commiseration while bringing her to check on the Abbot’s health. Dropping Concealment as I approach, Kukku presses his feathery head against my chest in search of care and comfort, all the while trying to watch Rakshasa and simultaneously hide from the fearsome feline. Alas, Kukku is not the smartest animal around, and it appears he believes that so long as he can only barely see his foe, then that means he’s hidden, neglecting to take into account the fact that the rest of his plump, feathery body is still in plain view. Honestly, without the Abbot to keep him safe and sound, I’ve no doubt Kukku would have long since been killed and eaten by Rakshasa.
After consoling the rooster, I turn my attention briefly to the adorable panda, nestled beside the comatose Abbot and suckling his paw like a sweet, wide-eyed baby. Soothing his nerves with some Aura and headpats, I finally fix my gaze upon the Abbot and do my best not to despair, for his emaciated body looks more dead than alive than ever, for now I can see beyond his physical ailments. Though untouched by the chaotic battle, the Abbot is barely drawing breath while laying atop his straw pallet, his eyes closed and heartbeat so slow I can barely stay focused long enough to count the seconds between them. Hoping my sweet wifey might catch something I missed, I ask her to check the Abbot’s health as well, but Lin-Lin clutches her scarf close and frowns. “Why?” she asks, and I’m at a loss on how to respond, until she clarifies with, “I can’t fix him hubby, but you probably can, ya?”
She has so much faith in me, it hurts to disappoint. “How am I supposed to fix him though?”
“I dunno.” Shrugging, Lin-Lin says, “Just... fix him the same way you just fixed yourself, ya? Just do that again, but with him.”
“Except I have no idea how I fixed me, not really.” I mean, I get the basic gist of what I did, expanding my Core throughout my physical body in order to fit my oversized soul and Natal Palace inside, but that’s just a broad strokes sort of explanation that really doesn’t say much else at all. It’s like saying I built a house by putting up four walls and a roof; accurate, but not at all useful to anyone looking for advice. Wary of saying something that might inadvertently affect Lin-Lin’s Path, I struggle to come up with the right words to give voice to my frustrations. “I mean, I just sorta envisioned what I wanted, and it happened, but I don’t understand how I made it happen, you know? Even going in, I wasn’t entirely sure how to do what needed to be done, I just... closed my eyes and took it one step at a time. Insight helped me find my way to success, but I can’t exactly count on that to save the Abbot’s life, now can I? If I go in haphazardly, I might end up hurting more than helping, which means I need a plan of action before going forward from here.”
“You’re so silly, hubby.” Reaching up to give my forehead the daintiest of flicks, Lin-Lin puffs her cheeks and says, “Test time. Infusion of willow bark. What does it do?”
“You’re starting to sound like your father,” I tease, delighting in her adorable grimace. “This one is easy though. It can completely alleviate mild to moderate pain, while having a lesser effect on extreme pain. Use it for cramps, headaches, minor injuries, and the bark can even be ground up and applied topically.”
“Good.” Behaving as if she’s already made her point, Lin-Lin asks, “How does it work then?”
“Uh...” Blinking like a deer in headlights, I realize I have no answer to give her, because I don’t know. No one knows, not even Taduk. It just works, and we accept it, because it’s medicine. “Oh!” The lights finally turn on, albeit after a lengthy delay, and I get the point Lin-Lin is trying to make. “You’re saying I should treat Heavenly Energy like medicine, and just trust it to do what it’s supposed to.”
“Exactly hubby. You don’t fuss about the details when it comes to medicine. You learn what it does, when to use it, and when not to use it, as well as what to do if things go wrong.” Flashing her beautiful smile, she concludes, “So just take that philosophy, apply it to Heavenly Energy, and do your best, okay? Besides, he’s dying anyways, so it’s not like you can make things any worse, ya?”
Though the last bit would’ve been better off not said, the guardian monks seem to agree with my wifey’s sentiment, and while I still have my reservations, what else can I do but give it a try and hope for the best?
...
In case things go wrong, farewell Abbot. We hardly even knew you.
Comments
ppbrro
loved the me-me
Adrian Gorgey
I'm so excited for what's coming up
Uryah Taylor
Hey, floof addiction is not a recognized addiction in this world or theirs. Therefore nothing really needs to change, right?
I do love me the demon transformations. They're fun to imagine and write, but the problem is the Demons are mostly unique, and end up dying pretty quick lol
Haha! You are caught, stupid beast.
Gjim
I can see Rain invoking the power of Grayskull atop Rakshas's back soon.
Jabari Lambert
Honestly that demon transformation was epic, sequence came alive in my head. Demon was genuinely scary
Arnon Parenti
Unless the Uniter cures him this is a fate worse than death to the confessor.
Thenais
more floof ... lol i really should have seen it coming.
Gardor
Wish the guy just died, seemed like it would have had a bigger impact. There's a whole army of weird looking demons.
Slim Dakhch
no way, his riding him to battle watchumean
Andrew
Thank you!
Really pulled an Einhar there huh. Lol
Diplodicus
Oh baby a triple! Great job Ruff! Also, I don't know if it's just me, but I found the bit about the confessor leaving a bit abrupt. It might help if you split the sentence where he hits the wall in two, and accentuate that break with period or something.
Tomi .
Now we have two fucking powerful demons to worry about, damn.
Shade
Thanks for the chapter. Feels like Aurie and Jimjam will have competition but Rakshasa will most likely end up low on the totem pole with curious rabbit exploring its maw and what not with their customary lack of survival instinct !
