Savage Divinity Chapter 551

As the assassins blade lances towards my throat, my thoughts are not of panic due to impending death or regret over leaving ho unard and unarmoured.

Nor am I calm, cool, and collected, using the precious ti before impact to formulate a proper, warriors response, because quite frankly, I am too slow, weak, and fragile to do anything to stop a Martial Warrior intent on my death, much less an Expert like the man before . Thats not to say Ive resigned myself to death either, because while the situation might look dire to so, my enemies have fallen victim to one of the classic blunders.

Never go in against the Undying when death is on the line.

...Also, not all turtles are slow. Thats the important lesson here.

Rearing up with a piercing squeak, Ping Ping erges from the flowing river like gargantuan beast of myth and snaps up my attacker mid-charge. Gone is the placid, gentle giant who carefully picks her way through crowded city streets, and in her place is a primal force of nature, violence given reptilian flesh with power enough to wreck whole cities if left unchecked. There is no suspense or uncertainty once she acts, only awe and consternation as she seals the audacious assassins fate with a crunch of her black, hooked beak. The ground trembles as she clambers up the riverbank with her prize in mouth, an Expert reduced to a broken corpse which she spits at the feet of his peers in undeniable threat. Looming over the remaining two aspiring assassins, she emanates palpable fury and unrestrained violence as human blood dribbles down her beak, silently embodying the age old question, You dare?

et Ping Ping, the Guardian Turtle of Falling Rain. She might not be as cute and cuddly as the rest of my floofs, but shes the sweetest, most considerate creature of them all.

Perhaps desperate not to be outdone, Kuang Biao uses the long seconds of distraction to lop off his opponents legs, which is good because Id rather not find out how Ping Ping fares against a readied foe, much less two. Leave them alive, I bark, lowering my guarded stance with what I hope is casual disdain. Good girl, Ping Ping. Love youuuu.

At the sound of my cutesy appreciation, the violence seeps out of her hulking fra, though she continues to watch the crippled assassins with guarded caution. Given her gentle and genial nature, its easy to forget that Ping Ping survived centuries, if not millennia, as a regular, everyday alligator snapping turtle in a world so inhospitable I would categorize it as downright hostile. You dont beco a Spiritual Beast without cracking a few eggs, and Ping Ping has already shown rcy enough by not slaughtering all her foes in the heat of battle. While Guan Suos presence and her popularity as Ping Yaos mascot certainly helped her survive the last century or three, she hasnt lost much of her edge seeing how she just wrecked an Expert without breaking a sweat. I almost feel bad for the guy. All that hard work and effort to beco a warrior near the pinnacle of the Martial Path, and for what? To et his end at the beak of a Divine Turtle and have his corpse repeatedly battered by an angry, quasi-Spiritual bicorn bunny.

Such waste, such sin.

...

I spend too much ti talking to monks. I should fix that.

Oath-Bound suicide warriors, Kuang Biao states, keeping his sword at the ready while pinning his opponents weapons beneath his boot. You wont get any useful information out of them. You should stand back and let kill them. Never know what tricks they might still have."

Guess you gotta be extra careful with Experts, because you never know if they can control their swords without hands or fire off bolts of Elental Chi. Heeding Kuang Biaos advice, I keep him between myself and the assassins while picking up the dead mans discarded sword, hoping to find so clue regarding his origins or identity. Unfortunately, Ive never seen a plainer Martial Weapon. Made from a dark, unreflective tal, the thin blade is less than two fingers wide and lacks the heft and length required for a proper hack and slack battlefield weapon, which ans it was made with assassination in mind. A thrusting weapon, balanced for throwing and light as a feather too, aning Kuang Biaos caution is not unwarranted. It even lacks any markings to denote a craftsman or supplier, with no cross-guard and a plain, unremarkable hilt of raw, untreated bamboo. A quick glance around reveals their discarded sheathes by the riverside, also made from the sa material, which I suppose they used to hide their weapons in plain sight as a short cane or gathered firewood.

Damn. These are so quality, professional assassins then, ones trained from the ground up and given assassination Spiritual Weapons. Rules out a cri of opportunity. Soone specifically brought these specialists in and had them follow out to the farm, where they waited for a mont of distraction before striking. They picked a good one too, while I was kneeling on the riverbank feeding a tiny turtle and weird octopus...

Wait. Whered Sir Inky go?

A scan of my surroundings fails to reveal the octopus I last saw hanging to my wrist, though it does show Ping Ping was careful to avoid upending the box of shrimp and bucket of crabs. Either utterly oblivious or wholly indifferent to my close brush with death, Pong Pong continues inhaling shrimp at an unbelievable rate, but the perverted octopus is nowhere to be found, neither bobbing in the water nor flailing helplessly sowhere on land, and I cant help but panic just a little bit. Sir Inky? You okay? If hes hurt, Ill make these bastards -

Two floating, yellowish eyes appear just inches above the dirt path and Sir Inky slowly fades into existence, his skin returning to its natural hue as he waves his tentacles about. Endearing as it is, hes not really waving hello, but rather trying to get dirt out of his suction cups or sothing. Making sure to keep either Ping Pings bulk or Kuang Biaos torso between and the assassins, I rescue Sir Inky and bring him back to the river to enjoy his crabs in relative peace, which he does after pulling the bucket over his head. While there, I cant help but shoot Pong Pong a dirty look, because despite being my most expensive pet to feed, he is quite literally only good for eating and shitting. Then again, to be fair, hes only here because I offered to keep him safe, and not the other way around, and its probably better this way since I dont want anyone to know about his existence, but Im entitled to be offended by his complete lack of concern with my continued welfare.

I see how it is Pong Pong. Fine. Be that way. I like Ping Ping more anyways.

...Im sorry, I like you too, cutie. I shouldnt be mad, youre just a turtle.

These assassins, I ask, pulling out the unmarked sword to study once again. They Eastern born?

Difficult to say. Brief and to the point, Kuang Biao offers no further explanation until I ask for one point blank. Their weapons and skill set suggests they were trained as assassins and nothing more. These two are not strong enough to defeat , but they fought with no consideration for survival and aid to trade their lives for mine. This was not their initial plan though, because if not for your actions, I would never have noticed their presence before they were ready to strike.

Say what now?

The stone you threw into the water, Kuang Biao replies. There was sothing off about the ripples. Turns out it was these scoundrels moving out of the way. His tone holds more than a hint of curiosity, but he refrains from asking outright, which is good because Im just as confused as him. I just thought those shadows looked... shady. How many tis have I accidentally seen through soones Concealnt? First Mahakala, then those wraiths, after that was Kukku, and now these murder-mooks. Do I have so sort of anti-Concealnt Talent? Even if I did, how am I powering it without Chi? Also, how does this fit with my Dao? I an, if anything, my Dao would be more conducive to Concealnt, on account of my desperate need to go invisible during social events and my dark desire to peep on beautiful won while they bathe.

Whatever. Ponder later. Either of you care to talk? I ask, hoping theyre the sort who are unhappy with their current employer. Im a rciful man. If youve made Oaths to keep silent, there are always ways to work around that. Just because you cant tell who sent you doesnt an you cant point in the right direction. Like, do your Oaths restrict you from telling which province you hail from? Or describing what sort of work the local commoners are known for? I need to know if theyre Imperially-trained assassins or if they were sent by a cats-paw. The forr ans big danger which Ill need the Legates help to deal with, while Dad can probably handle the latter by himself.

After a few seconds of silence, Kuang Biao says, They wont answer. Wont even tend to their own wounds. Ones passed out already.

Damn it. End it. Kuang Biaos sword cuts through the air with a distinct, tallic hum, then severs through flesh and bone with similar ease. The sound repeats as he makes sure the assassins are all dead before returning to my side, but he has yet to let down his guard. Best we leave now and head for the Citadel, he advises, while trying to keep an eye on everything around him. No telling if they were the only group sent here to kill you, and Id rather not give others more ti to set up an ambush.

So much for a relaxing day out at the farm. Grabbing Pong Pongs box with the little turtle still inside, I hesitate for a mont before bringing Sir Inky in his bucket as well. I doubt its the most comfortable ans of transportation around, but Ill move him into a pot or sothing and bring him ho with . So far, people have been pretty direct with their assassination attempts, but sooner or later, soone is bound to try and use my beloved floofs against .

Even though I know Lin-Lin has Guard Leader there with her, I still breathe a sigh of relief when I spot her from across the field. Having already ordered Kuang Biao to relay the situation, Guard Leader stands poised and ready to fight alongside several of her similarly dressed subordinates, while Lin-Lin gathers up the floofs and gives away her kites, a cheerful and generous soul who is visibly sad to disappoint the farm kids she promised to take rickshaw racing. Honestly, its probably for the best, because that shit is ridiculously dangerous. Picking up my pace, I hurry over and drop off Sir Inky and Pong Pong while doing my best to appear nonchalant. Sorry kids, I say, while silently signalling at the parents to bring their children away before they get caught in the crossfire. Theres been a hay spill up the road and the Bun-Bun Brigade have been called in to clean up. Well be back another ti soon. Hopefully.

Gathering up all the animals is a long and arduous process, mostly because Sarankho and Baloo seem to think its all a big ga of keep away. Normally, Id just leave and let them follow, but considering the circumstances, thats not really an option, so I fight off my growing panic and try my best to tempt the temperantal kitten and headstrong bear into the rickshaw alongside the rest of their floof siblings. During the assassination attempt itself I was calm as could be, but chasing down my animals during this possible life and death ergency has worn down to my last nerve. Its the uncertainty of it all which sends adrenaline coursing through my veins, with both mind and body unsure if we need to fight, flee, or do nothing at all. The more worked up I get, the worse off I am, because my body interprets this stress and anxiety as a cue to panic and freak out, which is the last thing I need right now, I give up and send Kuang Biao in to grab them, which he does none-too-gently, much to my chagrin. I have no one to bla but myself though, because it was my frustration which drove to this, so I set to consoling the spooked Sarankho and smoothing poor Baloos wounded ego while Mafu and Zabu pull my rickshaw back to the bamboo grove.

Once there, I can breathe a little easier with all my Death Corps guards around , but then my wifey brings up a pertinent issue which I didnt consider before now. We cant interrupt her now, she says, tugging at my arm to keep from waking Mila. What if shes in the midst of Insight?

Shit. Thankfully, Guard Leader answers for , having already taken things into account. Leave them be, she says, wrapping an arm around Lin-Lins waist and hefting her like a sack of rice. I sent word to the Citadel, so you will wait inside until an escort arrives.

Then Guard Leader disappears, and Im left standing outside the grove with all my pets and no one to bring us in. Glancing at Kuang Biao, who as far as I can tell is the only Death Corps Guard capable of Cloud Stepping, I sigh and abandon all thoughts of asking him to make multiple trips to ferry us over. Hes the strongest person I can command, and knowing Guard Leaders attitude, Ill probably have to depend on him to keep safe while everyone else looks after Lin-Lin. I cant say I particularly mind, considering I do want Lin to be safe, but I also want Mila, Yan, Song, and Luo-Luo to be protected as well.

Luckily, this ti around Yan left her sword in its sheath, so I carefully guide the animals in one by one to make sure they dont bother the ditating ladies. Its difficult, especially since Sarankho desperately wants to cuddle Song and Baloo wants to do the sa with Mila, but after enlisting help from Sorya and Anrhi, we eventually get all the animals safe and sound inside Taduks garden, aside from the quins who I left unharnessed outside with Ping Ping and the Death Corps guards to watch over them.

Honestly, I wouldve stayed out there with them if not for Kuang Biaos insistence, but its only a matter of ti before my enemies grow a brain and send soone with a longbow to snipe from afar. Itd have to be a master marksman, but if they put an arrow in the right spot, it doesnt matter even if Taduk is standing directly beside . You cant Heal Death, and bows are damn good at delivering it.

Neither Taduk nor Lin-Lin seem particularly concerned about the attempt on my life, just relieved I made it out alright and annoyed their trip to the farm will be cut short out of necessity. Honestly, the lack of awareness in both of them is off-putting to say the least, as if neither one realizes that another attempt on my life would put their lives in danger as well. Taduk is already grumbling about losing his seeds to so pest, while Lin-Lin is busy playing word gas with the twin handmaidens, who are understandably apprehensive while they clutch Baloo and Sarankho close. Im not saying I want Taduk and Lin-Lin to be scared too, but sotis I feel like half-hare brains dont work on the sa wave-length as everyone elses.

Still love them both to bits though. Wouldnt change them for the world.

With ti to think now that were all more or less safe, I soon grow bored watching the rabbits explore their fenced enclosure. Heading over to the exit, I check on Yan and find her still ditating before glancing around the mysterious bamboo enclosed path. It makes for a lovely ambience, in a woodsy, backwater sort of way, but theres nothing Divine or otherworldly about it. With nothing better to do, I sit down and cross my legs to see what all the fuss is about, but after long minutes of silence, Im unable to find the peace and tranquility which cos from mundane ditation, much less the torrential rush of Heavenly Energy urging to struggle and surrender. I didnt expect it to work, but its still disappointing, so I lean against a bamboo stalk and retreat into my thoughts instead.

My Dao.

Is all sorts of fucked up.

Howd I notice those assassins? It couldnt have been luck, because I am never lucky. Co to think of it, howd I land on my feet after Kuang Biao tossed aside? That was an act of acrobatic mastery, if I do say so myself, but I can barely even do a cartwheel now, much less...

Wait.

Im not crippled anymore. I can totally do a cartwheel.

Im an idiot. Ive been stuck in the mindset that no Chi equals worthless cripple, and while that was true at one point, ever since the whole Instinctive Balance debacle in Sinuji, Ive been about as healthy as an average person. I still sleep more than I used to, but its hard not to considering I used to function on four hours a day, but otherwise, Im in peak physical condition, able to lift one or two bunnies, walk up five flights of stairs, do simple flips through the air, and have fun tis with friends.

So the big question is, now that Im not crippled anymore, can I Demonstrate the Forms?

Okay two questions: If I can, will there be any benefit?

With no ti like the present to find out, I hop to my feet and find an unoccupied corner of the garden to begin testing, but although my mind is ready, my body is cowardly and unwilling. The Forms arent just a bunch of fancy movents done for the sake of calisthenics, theres a genuine, mystical force behind it which I have yet to understand. Ignoring the whole Insight aspect and learning how to fight, the Forms also help build up our physical bodies to withstand the infusion of Heavenly Energy which cos from ditation. As Dad put it, the stronger the body, the more Heavenly Energy it can absorb, and the more Heavenly Energy absorbed, the more powerful the warrior. Thats why Martial Warriors consu three tis more food than your average commoner, and also why so many of them grow to herculean proportions.

The problem is, what if food isnt the only thing that fuels this process? Im almost positive theres an elent of Heavenly Energy at work here, else Martial Warriors would only have to bulk up to beco more powerful. It doesnt work like that though, because Mila and Wu Gam are so of the strongest people I know in my age group, yet neither one is particularly tall or muscular. Mila has an athletic build, but shes no musclebound roid monster, while Wu Gam is slender and dare I say, svelte, like a poncy elf with the strength of a minotaur. Yea, their Blessings probably have sothing to do with their prodigious might, but Ive also seen Wang Bao wrestle much larger foes to the ground in tests of pure strength, not to ntion GangShus no taller than Jorani and almost as thin, yet is capable of sending big Demon Pudge flying with a swat of his hand, sans blessing mind you.

Plus, theres BoShuis growth spurt at the age of twenty-five, which shouldve been impossible, but everyone else seems to think is normal...

What Im getting at is that bigger does not equal stronger. There are small, lean Martial Warriors who can match larger warriors in pure strength, which ans theres sothing else going on in the background. Normally, this wouldnt matter, because the extra ingredient fuelling this growth and strength is easily available to ditating Martial Warriors. However, I am not your typical Martial Warrior. I have a shattered Core and cannot draw upon the Energy of the Heavens, not in the usual way, so theres a very real possibility that Demonstrating the Forms will cause to overtax my body.

I didnt co up with this idea out of nowhere. Back in Sinuji, I had a whole cadre of Healers studying my body, and none of them could find a valid cause for my physical infirmity, so it stands to reason I sohow fixed myself by Devouring Demon Ichor and turning it into Heavenly Energy, which sohow counteracts whatever is crippling . Thus, theres a good chance Ill eventually burn through my reserves of Heavenly Energy and go back to being a frail cripple again, a process which might be hastened along if I were to Demonstrate the Forms.

So what do I do now? Should I give it a try? Im supposed to show the world Im healthy again during this banquet at the Central Citadel, so Im pretty sure the Legate will have snuffed out if I go full cripple again. Assuming he wasnt already trying to have killed with todays assassination attempt. Shit.

Taking a seat next to Taduk, I lean into his embrace and explain my worries, and he listens through the entire spiel without interrupting, only to sit in silent contemplation for long minutes after Im done. Then, with a twist of his lips and a childish grimace, he throws his hands into the air and says, Bah. Rain my boy, your teacher is useless in this regard. Shrugging in apologetic embarrassnt, he adds, You see, I always thought the Forms were a bunch of hand-waving, foot stretching nonsense.

... too. Though disappointed he doesnt have the answers I need, his forthright honesty puts a smile on my face. Still kinda do, if Im being honest. Never really understood how it worked. After thinking it through so more, my smile lts away and I ask, Are you saying you beca a dical Saint without learning the Forms? How? Is that even possible?

With another shrug, Taduk asks, Why wouldnt it be? You think your little turtle friend sets aside an hour each morning to stretch and ditate? Does the eagle study the tiger to learn how to hunt? Or the deer copy the snake to run? No Rain my boy. The Martial Dao is not the only path to power, it is rely the ans through which Martial Warriors explore the Dao. Understand?

Yes. No. Scratching my head as comprehension escapes , I lean back to study my teacher once more. If what hes saying is true, then that ans hes far more impressive than he lets on. We all forge our own Martial Dao, but at least we have the sa familiar milestones to aim for. For Taduk to reach such heights after embarking down his own Dao, thats... incredible. Unbelievable, even. How did he do it? Can I do the sa? Should I even try?

No. Definitely not. Im having enough trouble following the established Dao, loosely defined as it might be. Ill never get anywhere if I have to figure out all the rules by myself.

Still, its sothing to consider. The Dao is everything, and the Martial Dao rely a ans to explore it, which ans...

Fuck all, for all I know. Whatever. After Central, Ill test out the Forms. Or maybe Ill talk to Dad and see if he can start a Demon capture and delivery service or sothing. This would be a whole lot easier if the Abbot, Guan Suo, and GangShu ca back. So many wasted opportunities. If Id known they were Divinities, I wouldve asked Guan Suo and the Abbot so many more questions. Itd be nice to hear what a tried and true Divinity thinks about my current problems, but they probably have more concerning issues to deal with right now.

Seriously though... when both participants can destroy cities with a wave of their hands, how does a fight drag on for days, much less weeks? Probably a lot of hiding and lurking about, would be my guess, a giant ga of cat and mouse, except both have giant, world-ending lasers strapped to their heads.

... Best of luck, Abbot, Guan Suo, and GangShu. May the Mother do a better job watching over you than Shes done with .

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