Chapter 502 – I Want You Dead, And I Want My Revenge~ (Patreon)

The title should be read to the tune of "bad romance"!

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The sky turned green.

I have trouble describing it. I have trouble even remembering it. It’s like touching a hot stone, except that I’m not using my hand to touch, I’m using everything of me, and it’s not burning me so much as it’s just there and I’m so small that I’m more it than I am–

I thought writing it down would help. I’m only more lost. Words aren’t good enough, certainly not my words. 

The sky turned green. Like everything was under the trees and I was dirt and in the dirt but there was no light, so the dirt was just nothing. Just something to be eaten.

I’ve thought about it before. What it’s like for the fish, getting hooked, getting stuck in the air where they can’t breathe, where everything’s weird and wrong and something is going to eat them. I never really thought about if plants think like that.

But then the sky turned green.

Everything is different now. The air, the grass, it’s all too small but also like it got moved a little sideways somehow? Like– I don’t know. I don’t know.

I’m so small. 

The sky turned green.

–Journal Entry of La Ru, local fishermen

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“Oh goddamnit kid.”

Jin’s eyes are darting back and forth between her, the Feng and the stranger sitting across from her. His cultivation is a roiling mass of things not-quite-dead and dead things not-quite-gone, shadows and smoke and whispers all flowing together to make a harmonious and alien blend, looking to wash over the world and overwhelm it in terrible peace. 

His eyes are wide, and in his hands there’s a half-dozen sets of obsidian statuettes, each one designed around a seemingly innocuous homemade tool or memento. Raika can taste his heart-rate, his breathing, his adrenaline, the way his thoughts are panicked but controlled, his fear abrasive inside him but used as fuel rather than fetters. 

He’s been through a lot of high-scale scary shit in his life. His reaction here is to make himself useful, not to leap into the fray immediately. Lucky him, and lucky her. 

“Did I or did I not tell you to not cultivate outside yourself while you’re here?” she asks him.

He blinks, then lets out an exhale, his eyes centered on the intruders. “I believe that this makes an exception, master. Strange circumstances, after all.”

Tao Zudong is nodding before Jin has even finished speaking. “Strange circumstances indeed. Perhaps you should be generous to the boy, and defer any punishment for the time being.”

“That is absolutely not the point and you absolutely should not be giving me parenting advice.”

“I’ve had hundreds of children, Honored Raika. And thousands upon thousands of grandchildren! I would say my experience is worth courting in this particular matter, considering he is your first child, after all. The conflict between parent and child is a rich and worthy one, but it’s certainly dangerous to allow it to go unchecked.”

“The philosopher has a point,” says the Feng.

The glare she gives him is enough to shut his old ass right up again. 

“I seriously don’t know why it keeps talking without being addressed,” Raika says to Tao Zudong and Jin. “It’s like it wants to ruin this whole negotiation and watch me eat him from the inside out while he’s still alive.”

Then she turns again, looking at Jin. “Go to your martial siblings. I have this under control, so you should go get them under control. Once you’ve done that, go to my cabin. Under the floorboards, there’s a little bowl. Don’t move it, but if you feed it Qi or blood, it’ll activate a lesser array that should shield most of the town and the fields from any… mess.”

He does a little inhale at that, his eyes wide. 

He knows, and she knows, that if she’s asking him for help, then shit’s serious. Serious enough that she’s willing to offload some of the work of managing things to him. She doesn’t have to, technically, but it’ll give him something to do, and it… is actually helpful. 

She really is juggling a lot here, and it’s a lot easier to keep planting intradimensional explosives and space-shunts in ambush positions around her visitors if she doesn’t also have to keep track of every other mortal. 

There’s a lot of her here, but not all of her. Some of her is in the far south, some of her is in the Morae, most of her is in a hundred thousand other places, and there are too many projects that she won’t abandon unless it’s seriously go time. She’s too widespread to put all of her power to a single use right now, and she will be until she’s done putting some of the puzzle of herself back together. 

“With respect, master, I’m certain that Wei Zin would be a better actor in this endeavor,” Jin says, because of course he does. “He’s far better equipped to deal with mortals than I, and he can better manage our martial siblings.”

He pauses, bowing. “This lowly disciple requests that his master allow him a moment’s grace, that he might learn from his betters.”

“Jin, when I tell you to do something, you should go and do it,” Raika growls, not turning to look at him.

“And yet still, this disciple begs the master for a moment’s patience, that he might be more helpful here in the present moment.”

Of course now is when he decides to disagree with her, the little shit. Of course now is when he thinks he can…

Harm’s already done. The others have seen this exchange, not that she gives much of a fuck about their opinions, and she apparently isn’t going to convince Jin to leave unless she forces him. 

“...fine. So long as you–”

She feels his cultivation shift and transform into a specific shape, his meridians shaping its currents and sending it out into the world. Even through her spatial warping, his message reaches Wei Zin, Geng He and Chen Tai, cutting through her brute-force manipulation of physiks using a conceptual tool.

His cultivation is of whispers and strange conversations, so how could distance be an impediment to that, when the conversation that must happen must happen? 

It’s a damn fine technique. One worthy of a name, even and not one that she’s seen from him before. Maybe he just figured it out properly recently, but maybe he’s been holding it in reserve, without a reason to show it yet. Pretty fucking excellent timing if so. 

And, of course, it allows the kid to stay right where he is rather than having to leave, where she can shoot his ass a few miles away. 

Because of course her kid is smart and capable and leaving her fucking terrified. 

“It is a surprise to see that your disciple is so competent and filial,” the Feng says. 

“You got one concession and you had to play hard to get it. If you talk about my son I am going to let you go two thousand miles away, build a little observation post or whatever it is you’re going to do, and then climb inside you and invert you.”

“Now now, you did promise no violence,” Tao Zudong interrupts.

“I literally didn’t!” Raika says.

“That’s true.”

She squints at the bastard harder. Whatever they are, they’re doing something.

“It’s a compliment, Honored Raika,” the Feng keeps talking as Jin puts his weapons away and circles around behind her, kneeling to her back and slightly back to the right. Out of direct lines of sight, especially from the Feng. “If your other students are half as filial as this first son, then it is a testament to your skill as a teacher and master to them. And a strong mark against what’s said about you.”

“And why would I give even a rat’s ass about what you and yours say about me?” Raika asks, sipping at her cup and finding it annoyingly almost empty. “You’re a Feng. Master of the misery of this world, and chosen of the big gold fuck that has everything so fucked to begin with. Your opinion isn’t exactly in high regard.”

“On the contrary!” Tao Zudong interrupts again, nodding his head in a way that makes his hair move very strangely indeed, like willows underwater. “The Fengs have long been notable scholars in the esoteric and the traditional both. Orthodox systems of power have long been a focal point for their cultivation and techniques, which are, of course, a source of power, and mastery of one’s power is quintessential for philosophers such as they.”

“You honor me and my Clan with the title, elder,” the Feng says. 

“Neither one of you is endearing yourselves to me,” Raika sighs, putting her cup to one side. She takes a long pull of her pipe, filling up a few dozen sets of lungs that spiral out beyond her current body. It burns through the pipe faster than she’d like, but she’s annoyed enough to allow herself the indulgence.

“You are surrounded by territory not your own, Honored Raika,” the Feng says, ignoring the vibe she’s sending his way. “Your patience has assisted matters, but ultimately, it is you who have not endeared yourself to greater powers. All know of your war to come, and the opportunity to strike a blow here is one that has been long delayed.”

“Delayed because your master likes me more than he likes you,” she says with a smile.

The Feng pauses at that, and two blood vessels on his face color very slightly. Not a true blush, but between immortals, the small things get noticed. The fact that it’s true, or that she believes it’s true, probably stings even worse for him. 

“Regardless of the reasons, there is no realm in which your strength is not respected,” the Feng continues, stroking his short little white beard as the symbols beneath each of his eyes hum ever so slightly. “And yet, you have yet to strike me down not because you regard me with the respect I am owed, but because you have learned the wisdom of beasts, and understand the violence that would come to you and yours. And yet still, you seek this war. Still, you seek violence unending, when you have here what might well be a matter of peace.

“You don’t need to keep fighting. Here is a place where you can rest your head, as you clearly have. Take a hundred more villages, if that’s your desire. Take a thousand, if that’s what you really want. Live in them as you have lived here. Who would stop you? Not I. Not the Clan, and apparently not the Emperor.”

“A thrilling proposition,” Tao Zudong offers to the conversation, slurping at a sludge-cup that is somehow still full. “Raika, any rebuttal?”

“What, are you here just to act as a referee?” she asks.

“Not just, but I find it’s an organic way to include myself in a conversation with the less enlightened.”

“You came to my house, don’t be throwing around those kinds of insults lightly.”

“It’s not an insult at all!” he protests, looking genuinely shocked, his featureless features aghast at the accusation. “If anything, I’m envious!”

She just can’t get a read on this guy. 

Yet. She will. 

“As for my rebuttal,” she says, ignoring the philosopher for now, “why the fuck would I want a thousand villages built on a foundation of perpetual suffering and othering? Especially when the world is going to end in, what, a decade? Decade and a half? At least if your masters have anything to say about it.”

“Have you ever considered that the portents of apocalypse have only become so prevalent due to you and yours?” the Feng asks, cocking an eyebrow. “The world has existed for billions of years unassisted, and for thousands under the yoke of true rulers. The sun, the moons, the very land beneath your feet are all gifts from those older and wiser than both of us, and yet, in your short time on this world, you have brought about the Breach, brought together the beasts of the wild, the shadows of the dead and the barbarian tribes together as one to assail the one true bastion of civilization. Perhaps, if you simply surrendered, you’d find that the end of the world is a bit less likely without all this disruption.”

She opens her mouth, ready to leap on the spew of bullshit–

And pauses. 

Then she smiles. 

Then she laughs a little. She takes her pipe and pulls a bit more smoke, now more for the aesthetic of it and a dramatic pause than for indulgence. 

“You don’t know, do you?”

The Feng tilts his head, but she sees those neurons firing. Being an Emperor makes them look weird and inhuman, sure, but they are firing, and they do have a taste to them. 

“Whatever do you mean.”

She smiles. 

“Well, whatever the case, you’re untrustworthy, shitty, stupid, and one of you guys crippled me and left me for dead for unjust cause and by being a piece of shit asshole,” she says with a shrug. “So no, I won’t be negotiating with Fengs. As for the Empire? I’ve met peaches from the Garden.”

“Would you like his head?”

Perfect. All that time fishing has really paid off, she got her bait set just right apparently. 

“Who’s?” she asks, pretending she doesn’t know what he’s talking about.

“The Feng who struck you. Feng Gui, third of his name, middling bureaucrat responsible for tithing some noble houses for the Wall. A few notable accomplishments, enough that he was likely to earn a promotion someday, until he left you alive. He has since been thoroughly reprimanded for his mistake. You can have him. As a gift, to open negotiations.”

Raika laughs, making sure it’s a short, harsh bark. She can feel Jin behind her, the way he’s leaning ever so slightly forward, his adrenal system starting to move into higher gear again, but she pretends not to. She trusts him to keep his cool, even when she’s acting visibly stupid. 

The philosopher Tao Zudong just seems to be enjoying his sludge. 

“A gift. From you. Do your betters know you’re here, offering me up your bloodline? Or are you just saying whatever you think I want to hear so that when you pull back to that promised perimeter I don’t just find you and kill you anyways?”

“While I may not match you for strength or raw resources, I am not un-savvy to political tools or intelligence gathering,” the Feng replies. “I have centuries of experience dealing with dangerous people, and the authority I have earned is no simple thing. If it would allow a moment’s cooperation, that I might obey the commandments of my betters without inciting your wrath, then yes, it would absolutely be within my power to grant you the life of Feng Gui.”

Slow inhale. Slow exhale. Long, dribbling streams of smoke, too heavy to rise and thus circling around her like water. 

She can feel Jin behind her, on edge like he’s watching a tragedy in motion, like he’s not sure whether to act or not. She can feel the philosopher across from her, a nebulous void of shapes and colors that nonetheless seems pleased. She can feel the Feng, this hateful canopy which strangles the growth below it to grow higher, and which is part of a far larger and far worse forest.

She has a few months before the war still. And now she’s got even more shit to deal with, besides having to clean up the mess of the Feng manifesting even part of his Domain so close to the lake. Jin’s crush. Helping Chen Tai through whatever changes just happened to her. Keeping the rest of her grounded and human enough to have perspective. 

Busy, busy time. 

But what’s one more chore, when it offers ever so many possibilities?

“Alright. Maybe we can negotiate.”

Raika and Feng Gaolang smile at each other from across the table, paper-thin masks hiding nothing.

Luckily Raika’s got a way thicker, cooler mask like right under the first one. And a few more under that. Benefits of being a crafty little multi-mind.