Calamity Mandate

Chapter 327 - Following Protocol

At the center of the mausoleum beneath the Reza Estate, two Noga soldiers emerged from planar doors into the ritual chamber. The two Apprentice Chroniclers swept their eyes across the room. 

From their perspective the world moved in slow motion. The roaring flames around the perimeter of the room had taken on an eerie colour, a molten brass with deep, dark shadows. The furniture and tapestries blackened and smoked as each tongue of flame touched and consumed them. Ashes floated across the room, mixing with the billowing smoke that obscured the ceiling and reflected the brass coloured light.

There were three dozen cultists around the room. They were dressed in bloodied servants’ robes, their faces contorted in extreme emotions of pain and rage and fear. Their arms were clutching at their heads, or raised to the sky, or outstretched as if in prayer toward the arcane mechanical sculpture at the center of the room.

The whites of their eyes had already turned pitch black. Their skin shone in the light as if made of polished ceramic. They were in various stages of corruption, but even the ones with the least changes were already not human anymore.

Standing at a position of prominence before the machine a woman in bloodied silk robes held a mechanical shell aloft. Her face was completely smooth and made of metal, as if she were wearing a mask. Three extra pairs of arms had sprouted from her back and sides, extending outward in symmetry, elongated fingers extended in ritualistic gestures. The Head of Staff had transformed into a monstrous figure, half-human, half-construct.

The Noga blink scouts stayed for only a fraction of a second, their Chronicler powers slowing their perception of time to allow them to take reconnaissance of the area with minimal risk. Their Astromancer partners remained on the other side of the portals, providing instantaneous passage.

To a normal person, the scout would only appear in their vision for an instant before disappearing. An Exalted’s spiritual intuition would warn them, but unless they were prepared most wouldn’t be able to intercept the scout before they disappeared. It was a method devised by the Noga military to safely gather intel with minimal risk to its officers.

Minimal, but not zero.

The two Chroniclers’ spiritual intuitions suddenly flared. Their bodies trembled as a pulse of energy burst from the multi-armed Head of Staff. They found themselves paralyzed, unable to retreat back into the portal.

Two of the Head of Staff’s hands began a flurry of mystical gestures, causing the portals behind the Chronicler to erode. They moved too quickly to comprehend, even for the Chroniclers with their dilated sense of time.

Before the Head of Staff could trap them completely, the Chroniclers suddenly disappeared into two new rifts, their original planar doors closing immediately after.

~

The two Chroniclers appeared in the operations hall and immediately fell to their knees, clutching their heads.

“Noga save us! Suda gash dekin! The time is come! The end is approaching! Akizhah poron!” The younger Chronicler babbled meaninglessly. The older officer stared at the floor in a catatonic daze.

“Get the priests to look at them.” Captain Baker, a mustached older man with a broad face pulled at the cuff of his white gloves with a frown. He faced an array of floating bamboo tablets that were suspended in a three dimensional grid in the air above a table. “Mark the chamber at B-A23 as the focal point of the ritual.”

“The partner Astromancers are showing signs of corruption.” An officer reported, “I’ve sent them off as well.”

“From our analysis, the cultists at the ritual site have at least one Exalted at the Adept level. The ritual focus has established connection with their deity.” 

“All units below Tier 3 are to withdraw from the underground.” Baker frowned, turning towards and addressing the slender man beside him, “Captain Nauss.”

“I’ll lead the strike team. We’ll punch in, destroy the focus, and see whether the ritual energies dissipate.” Nauss said grimly.

Baker nodded, agreeing. The approach was blunt, but effective. With Nauss’ Adept-level strength he would be able to protect his team in the few seconds that it would take to execute the attack.

“That won’t work.” A soft voice spoke in his ears.

Baker hesitated, trying to hide the shock in his eyes.

“The ritual has absorbed the soul of an Arbiter. Nauss will suffer large losses and the enemy will be able to counter attack from it.” The voice said calmly, “Hold your men for now, the time to act will come soon.”

Arbiter— The second immortal rank? Baker lost his composure as he couldn’t believe his ears. That kind of power would be enough to effortlessly wipe out his and Nauss’ entire command. He wasn’t even sure if Colonel Gwynn was that high of a level— that kind of knowledge was above his security clearance.

Captain Nauss took notice of Baker’s hesitation, “What’s wrong?”

“A soft voice from the heavens, strands of white hair floating in the air.” Baker said with a dry throat, reciting a poem that had gained popularity in Noga City.

“The White Maiden.” Captain Nauss’ gaze grew serious as he looked up at the ceiling, “She’s interfering?”

She’s already interfered. Baker thought to himself, adjusting his glove cuffs uncomfortably. If She hadn’t warned me to act personally and save my men, they would have been trapped in the ritual chamber…

Captain Baker nodded, “We need to report—“

A rift opened in front of the two captains as Lieutenant Colonel Daran and Colonel Gwynn stepped through.

“You are to follow protocol and treat the White Maiden as hostile.” Gwynn nodded to each of the Captains, “Engage the strike team, Captain Nauss.”

“Yes, ma’am!” Captain Nauss saluted.

“Captain Baker, you broke orders by listening to the White Maiden to rescue your men.” Gwynn looked at him with a stern expression, “Don’t let it happen again.”

“Ma’am, with respect, my officers would have died—“ Baker replied, “I couldn’t blatantly ignore intel, I had to act.”

“I know. However, Command states Her motivations can’t be trusted. We must continue with protocol.” Gwynn had an annoyed look on her face, understanding the contradictory nature of her statement, “The White Maiden is known to have a way with words. I’ll let this mistake slide, just once.”

Gwynn didn’t mention that the only reason she knew about the situation was because the White Maiden had also contacted her. She knew that Baker had saved his men, she knew that the White Maiden had warned Captain Nauss not to engage.

She knew that the White Maiden knew that per protocol Gwynn had no choice but to come over and override the White Maiden’s words. Furthermore, protocol also required Gwynn to report to her higher-ups that the White Maiden had appeared. This report would reach the upper levels of the military, or even Lord Noga himself.

By following protocol and treating the White Maiden as a hostile entity, was she just doing what the White Maiden wanted to her do?

~

At north end of the Hasan Walled City, on top of the walls which overlooked the tall waterfall that fed the river at the bottom of the valley, two figures stood amid the mists. 

One was an elder man, dressed in flowing yellow robes with a long sword at his waist held up by a thick silk sash. His hair was tied back into a wild ponytail, his sharp chin rough with stubble. He had the appearance of a sword saint, old and wise. Woven into his robes were various talismans and braided knots.

The other was a beast much like a wolf. He was huge, his head coming up to the swordsman’s shoulders, with a majestic black mane and glowing yellow eyes. His coarse black fur was embroidered with numerous silk threads that glowed when the light touched them, giving him the appearance of a mythical beast.

“Second brother.” The wolf said, “The estate has returned to the physical plane. Is the trial over?”

“It must be.” The swordsman replied with a thoughtful frown, “What do you think, Ylia?”

The wolf jumped and yelped in surprise as the mists next to him condensed, forming the figure out a beautiful woman. She held a white and blue fan daintily in front of her face, showing only her eyes to the two. Long chains of glass beads dangled from her silken robes, engraved with arcane text.

“Second brother, your senses are acute as always.” She smiled demurely, glancing at the wolf, “Surprisingly more than ninth brother. Shouldn’t you have smelled me, with that big nose of yours?”

“I did!” The wolf snuffed, “I was merely acting. Hah, I must be getting better, to have fooled you with my reaction.”

The beautiful woman smiled at the wolf, her eyes glinting, “Oh? Is that so?”

Though the three spoke casually, their spirits were on alert, carefully monitoring the energy fluctuations in the valley below. Each of them were immortal guru-chi, vying to secure their place in the Sun God’s prophecy. 

Second brother, Zashii, whose oji was Cheen the teenager with the ribbon swords. Ninth brother Nio, whose oji was Kwit, the red fox. Eleventh sister Ylia, whose oji was Kaya.

They all had one thing on their mind — the outcome of the trial. Each guru-chi’s oji held a shard of their master’s body within them, their pneuma, that had been inaccessible for the duration of the trial. As soon as the estate returned to the physical world, their connections were re-established.

Each of them had confirmed that their oji was not in possession of the Sun God’s amulet. And now, standing atop the waterfall overlooking the city, they were all wondering the same thing.

Did one of the others succeed?

Though they smiled and laughed with each other, their eyes were filled with greed.

~

In the Fuha wastelands, Bacchi and Somm sat around a small fire, sipping at a murky steaming tea.

“Who do you think will take it?” Bacchi asked casually, turning the tea cup around in his long, bony fingers, “Zashii?”

Somm grunted a response.

“Not Nio. He has taken his path too seriously. He spends his waking moments as a beast, his mind also seems to have devolved down to a beast’s level.” Bacchi contemplated.

“Ylia is clever, and her oji takes after her.” Somm said, “Even if Zashii’s oji takes it, Ylia’s might be able to seduce it away from him.”

“Zashii won’t give her the chance.” Bacchi shook his head, “If the amulet is in his possession, he will hide in seclusion until his oji advances.”

“But there is a chance.” Somm said with a shrug. “Good tea. Earthy and rich, with the fragrance of a forest after the rain. Though it appears muddy, when one drinks it, it is pristine as a mountain stream, filled with the vigour of springtime. When did you visit the Everblossoming Valley?”

Much like the Trial of Requirement, which required the oji to consume the Hollow Ember and advance to Apprentice, the guru-chi understood that the reward of the Trial of Succession, the amulet, would not signify the true heir of the Sun God until it had been used to advance the oji to Disciple.

“I did not, it was a gift.” Bacchi held his tea cup with a frown, glaring at Somm suspiciously, “You do not seem concerned. Have you given up your fight for the throne?”

Somm didn’t reply, leaning forward to refill his cup from the clay kettle.

“You place such confidence in this girl of yours.” Bacchi muttered, “But the prophecies do not mention her at all. She is young, yet she has you wrapped around her little finger. Taking your gold, using you for her comfort, are you not embarrassed at how she takes advantage of your desperation?”

“First brother, we are a thousand miles away, unable to take part in the trial. If Zashii or Ylia or even Nio succeeds, we have nothing to quarrel about.” Somm chuckled in response, unperturbed. He sat back on his chair formed from sculpted rock, taking a leisure whiff of his tea, “Drink your tea, first brother, it is getting cold.”

Somm paused, then shook his head, “At this time, our fate is out of our hands. But something tells me this mysterious girl Shou Tao may surprise us yet.”

~

Above the waterfall in Hasan Walled City, the three guru-chi suddenly stopped chatting. Their eyes turned toward the estate, then briefly to each other.

Their forms blurred as they launched themselves off the cliff, speeding toward the estate.

~

Cheen and Firuzeh followed the red fox who led the escape away from the burning ritual chamber. The fox led them through several doorways. Before long they found themselves in a damp chamber with roughly hewn walls.

“This passageway should lead us out.” The red fox said, repeating the words the White Maiden had told him.

The young swordsman’s spirit shook as he felt his master reconnect with him.

“Oji, did you succeed?” Zashii’s voice asked solemnly.

“No, master.” He replied.

“I am coming to you.” Zashii said, “Stay alert.”

Ahead, the red fox suddenly yelped as a puddle of water suddenly came to life and engulfed its legs, dragging it into the floor.

Cheen’s spiritual intuition flared. He unsheathed his swords and struck out as two streams of water erupted at him from the walls. His swords sliced harmlessly through the streams, which froze instantly on contact.

“Kaya?” The young swordsman felt the familiar aura within the water. His eyes widened in excitement as a watery figure emerged from a pool of water. Her figure solidified into a young beauty dressed in flowing silk robes. His heart fluttered as her ice blue eyes landed on him.

“Cheen, hand over the amulet.” The young, beautiful girl said.

“I don’t have it.” Cheen replied. His arms were frozen to the wall, but he didn’t struggle to free himself.

Her eyes flickered, and he knew that she was listening to her master through their bond.

A bad feeling filled him as he saw her eyes darken.

“Sorry. Cheen. I have to do this.”

“I know.” He replied quietly.

She hesitated one more moment, then launched herself forward. 

Ice shattered around him as Cheen broke his bonds and counter attacked.

~

Char Char ran down the underground hallway, the Sun God’s amulet hidden in the pockets of her jacket. 

She picked up her pace as she heard the sound of fighting ahead.

~

Cecil’s broken body smouldered in the corner of the room, buried in rubble and flames. He had been killed by the Clockwork God’s machine, but only physically.

A gold-flecked bone amulet around his neck glowed, then crumbled to dust as his soul re-entered the corpse. 

This is bad. The cultist ritual is complete. They completely control the area. I can’t afford to draw their attention. 

In his spiritual intuition he sensed the multi-armed Head of Staff drawing in energy from the glowing mechanical statue in the center of the room. The other cultists formed a circle around the statue, as stiff and still as mannequins in various horrific and pious poses.

Cecil couldn’t help but cough hoarsely as pain shot through his body. He ran his blackened, blistered fingers along the grisly hole in his sternum. 

My soul can only hold this body together for a short time. He grimaced. If I lose this body, so be it, but I must get that amulet.

His fingers glowed as he drew a number of runes in the air, preparing to escape through the spirit plane. Saturated reds and blues washed over him. He was almost successful when his spell was violently interrupted.

The planes have been sealed? He crumpled to the floor, spitting out blood.

His spiritual intuition triggered as the military forces of Lord Noga assaulted the chamber.

There’s no way to escape! What’s with this awful luck?