Instead, he threw himself at the task of cultivating. At this point, he was not harnessing the chi from the world except as a secondary by-product for constantly cleansing his body and meridians, sending the cleaned chi to brush against the blockages in his Energy Storage meridians like a water stream against rock before filtering out the new impurities and discarding them. His primary purpose now was meditating—focusing upon the experiences he had gained, his memories.
He saw, once again, Elder Dun as he struck. As the Elder curled himself and launched his attack at Wu Ying, the way the blade targeted his heart, the flow of power through his body and within the blade itself. Wu Ying mined that memory for all the knowledge it could gift, turning it around in his mind’s eye again and again, taking in flashes of reflection on the water. In time, he no longer focused on the flow of chi or the Elder’s body, but the look in Elder Dun’s eyes. That coldness, that implacability. That focus.
Another moment, another memory. A bandit, one that Li Yao and he had killed last year. Wu Ying’s blade plunging through the man’s neck. The widening in the pupils, that moment of clarity and release. When the bandit had realized he was dead. When all that struggle was done. The giving up on life.
The taotei jumping at Wu Ying, seen past the guard of his sword. That last sliver of time before it would land on his weapon. Resolved to make the taotei pay, to injure it at the cost of his life, Wu Ying would not, could not, stop fighting. And rage—rage reflected in the taotei’s never-ending hunger. Anger at the pain its own existence created.
Another memory, floating alongside the others. A newer one. The rest stop keeper from before, angry and sad, his hard work stolen by the army. Left with nothing but the little he had managed to hide, the few coins and goods he had managed to keep for himself. All that he had managed to secret away to rebuild his life. Refusing to leave, give up, or despair. Serving subpar food and the same within, knowing it for what it was. But refusing to leave.
Stubbornness. Resolution. Will.
Elder, bandit, monster, and peasant.
Reflections of one another. Neither good nor bad—but a facet. Imposing one’s will upon the heavens, demanding it change. Sometimes failing, sometimes succeeding. But trying. Always trying.
It was not enlightenment. There was no greater Dao involved in this. But a knot within Wu Ying’s heart, one that had grown when he failed to breakthrough, eased.
Failure happened. Destruction happened. But starting over, going on. That too was part of the Tao. That too was human.
***
The curtain of his tent was drawn aside, leaving Wu Ying to blink into the early morning sunlight. Wu Ying stood, brushing down his robes as he stared at Chao Kun.
“It’s time.”
The serious and grim expression on Chao Kun’s face made Wu Ying decide not to ask any further questions. At least, not just yet. When Wu Ying took a step forward, Chao Kun shook his head.
“Change first.” He tossed Wu Ying a set of clothing and armor similar to that worn by the regular members of the army. “And make sure you have all your equipment. We will be fighting.”
Wu Ying nodded. He took the armor and clothing and retreated behind a privacy screen to change. In short order, he walked out, clad in black-and-grey lamellated armor like all the other soldiers—if not for the jian by his side. As for his own clothing and armor, he had placed it in his storage ring.
“Ah, I forgot. You are still using your jian.”
Wu Ying touched the weapon at his side, raising an eyebrow. “I did not bring another weapon.” Well, he had a couple of other swords in his storage ring, but they were of the same type.
“You know how to use a dao, yes?”
“Obviously,” Wu Ying replied.
Even if he did not specialize in using a dao, the Long family-style had forms and passages devoted to the weapon. He had also practiced with the weapon in his village. It just was not his preferred weapon. After all, the Long family weapon style focused on the jian, but a sword was a sword and things like distance, timing, muscular chain activation were the same.
“Then we shall get you one.”
Chao Kun gestured, and together, the pair exited the tent. They walked along the pathway between tents, the army personnel dodging around Chao Kun and Wu Ying as they hurried to their stations. Finally, they crested the slope of a hill and spotted where the hubbub that had grown around them was focused. Sprawled below them in formed ranks was the majority of the army. In the morning sun, spearheads pointed toward the sky glittered, bathing the waiting army in shifting beams of sunlight as they faced the city.
Arrayed before the walls, between the army and the city, were the siege weapons, many of them still leaking sap from being cut down and built. They had stopped firing last night, allowing more rocks to be placed near them for this morning’s assault. Assault covers—mostly simple rolling, covered carts—were the majority of the siege weapons, though Wu Ying spotted a few more elaborate assault covers. Behind the initial assault covers was the mixed group of archers and infantry who would hide beneath the covers as they rolled close to the walls. Directly behind the initial wave of siege weaponry were the sky carts, mobile siege ladders with a hinged, folding ladder that would be deployed when they were in place.
As for the city itself, its wall were beaten, fractured in the front. Targeted attacks had knocked down or damaged the guard towers, but the walls still stood. None of them had been destroyed or shattered. No gaping holes faced the waiting army. For all intents and purposes, in spite of the damage done to the walls, they were intact.
“Are we starting now?” asked Wu Ying.
“Yes.”
Chapter 14
Chao Kun let Wu Ying marvel at the sight for a long minute before he gestured for him to hurry along. Together, the pair headed for the army’s blacksmith, where weapons were being fixed and sharpened. Chao Kun spoke rapidly to one of the guards before he made his way to one of the racks and searched through the repaired daos before finding one to his satisfaction. He tossed it to Wu Ying, who caught it and the scabbard that followed, testing the weapon in his hand.
It was serviceable. The weight was slightly off, a bit farther toward the pommel than Wu Ying would have preferred. It made the sabre’s weight a little more unwieldly, made cutting a little harder. The metal itself was of low quality, adequate but likely to chip after vigorous use. And it had no sense of style at all, looking similar to the hundreds of daos that lay around the encampment. Even if most soldiers used the spear as their primary weapon, the dao was the preferred secondary weapon since its single cutting edge and heavier blade design required less training and could be used more effectively in a shield wall. The jian, once popular as the main side-weapon of the army, had decreased in popularity as closed ranks and more formal shield walls had been adopted.
Those cultivators and martial artists like his family who stayed loyal to the jian were growing rarer each year. Even if the lighter weapon had been the more popular weapon to begin with, the dao’s adoption by the army had seen the jian’s slow decrease in popularity—at least among soldiers and the general populace. On the other hand, while martial styles for the dao were increasing in number, for the highest tier sword arts, it was said that one needed to study the jian. But…
“Good enough?” Chao Kun asked.
“Yes. In the end, a sword is a sword,” Wu Ying said, belting the scabbard to his body as he replaced his own weapon. It was both an ultimate truth and lie, depending on the circumstances. As any true sword stylist would tell you. For what came next, this would do. “What is my role?”
“You’ll be part of the first wave,” Chao Kun said. He puckered his face as he had eaten something sour before leading Wu Ying away from the blacksmith’s to where the army waited, talking all the while. “You, your friends, and a small number of other cultivators—mercenaries and other Sect members mostly—will be held back in reserve but near the front of the line. When our army reaches the walls with their ladders, you will be sent to scale the wall.”