Threads 381-Perdition 1

Meng Dan hummed. “Your offer is appreciated. I may seek you out when my own task comes. Another formations expert will be useful.”

“The call shall be awaited,” Xuan Shi acknowledged, passing them by. His staff manifested in his now bare hands, the rings jangling. “I hope I can share the good tidings I have on a later day, Miss Ling.”

She inclined her head. “I will be happy to receive them. Sixiang, please rejoin. I need your full assistance.”

“Gotcha.” The figure standing by the road shimmered and disappeared. <Alright, what exactly is going on?>

Ling Qi closed her eyes, her anxiety momentarily distant. It was comfortable, having Sixiang back where they belonged.

<Oh, no. No, no, no. Qi, you’re really gonna…>

Please help me, she thought.

<That ain’t fair at all,> Sixiang complained. <Of course I’m gonna help.>

“Miss Ling has many good friends, it seems,” Meng Dan said.

She opened her eyes. “I do. Let us go see the general.”

They were not held up long by formalities, thankfully. The soldiers were expecting her as a missive from Inspector Cao had been sent ahead of her arrival. The general awaited them in a sparring room whose floorboards were polished to a mirror shine and whose walls seemed to be burned black, though the structure was none the weaker for it. There were no aides or adjutants, only the general herself standing in the center of the room, turning to face them, the blank faceplate of her helm smoldering.

“Explain.”

It was not a question, that single word, spoken in the tone of a furnace’s roar.

So she did. She spilled everything they had discussed with the inspector, and Meng Dan cut in to add his own part, not quailing when the general’s gaze had turned to him.

And it did turn upon him.

“So the subversive elements of the Meng have moved. Incredibly foolish to expose themselves over this small matter, a mere test for Her Grace’s heir.” The general had not moved, save to loosely cross her arms. Her reflection gleamed beneath her.

“The Meng clan is loyal,” Meng Dan insisted. “These rogues are even now being hunted down for arrest and censure.”

“Your kin have always been the least loyal. The Bao are bought, well and certain. The Diao are united to the Cai. And the Luo know their place and move apace, for all that their progress diverges. Only your clan’s loyalties are divided, among the old comital clans,” the general said implacably. “Members of your clan still look toward a foolish and wasteful faith and the dream of a lost past.”

“General, please,” Ling Qi pleaded. “Meng Dan is aligned with us. He and his grandmother have already promised to take this matter in hand and deliver any culprits to this conspiracy which remain in their home.”

“Indeed. This is a coup. It remains foolish, but those clinging to meaningless tradition often behave irrationally. I will provide escorts so that the young sir may move safely to gather those who are truly victims, and I will cooperate with this operation given that the first apprentice and the inspector alike request it. You believe you can support my presence in the spiritual realm?”

Ling Qi bowed her head. “I believe I must, trying as it might be.”

“You have been learning from that shadow, so perhaps you can. I expect they will be subtly bolstering your energy to enable your action. However, it will be impossible for you to support additional units. Troublesome.”

Ling Qi did not like how small she felt under that eyeless gaze. Sweat beaded on her neck and forehead from the phantom heat exuded by the general in her senses. Though there was no sign of agitation or reaction in the general’s physical appearance, to Ling Qi’s enhanced senses, the pressure was incredible. It dug down into her brain, a beat sounding like the trampling, synchronized tread of ten thousand boots, and she smelled the acrid, eye-watering scent of the smoke left behind where armies clashed and lives were lost in countless numbers.

This story originates from Royal Road. Ensure the author gets the support they deserve by reading it there.

The furnace burns. The fuel is shoveled. Molten metal stirs crimson and white. The rising steam is a million screams of terror.

“Do you have some experience with liminal combat, General Xia? The Hui must have used such arts. Do you believe I will be sufficient?” Ling Qi asked.

“The Hui could not hide where Her Grace’s light fell. Her eyes dragged them from the muck they lingered in. Nor were they so subtle in the end, for all their pretensions. They tore the veil asunder, and nightmares poured out like water. Through these open sores, my blade struck easily. However, the collateral of such a strategy is unacceptable in this location. You will have to be sufficient. I trust the first apprentice’s tactical judgment.”

Ling Qi shuddered, trying not to see the horrors those words tried to show her. There were downsides to the eyes she was cultivating. Like the duchess herself, the general was not restrained at all. Being able to so clearly see and feel in her presence was a double-edged sword.