Sen glanced around at what was left of the Clear Spring Sect. The compound was a place he’d never intended to return to. He’d been attacked there, and the patriarch had allowed the man responsible to escape. Sen had accidentally found that man, a member of the House of Xie, and killed him in a long-delayed act of vengeance. With that last loose end resolved, he’d barely thought about the Clear Spring Sect again. At least, he hadn’t until Lo Meifeng had suggested that they use some of the sect members to secure some of Sen’s new property when he’d created the House of Lu.
Even then, he just hadn’t cared about them enough to even ask what happened with those missions. Now, he was back, mostly because someone had reported back about the sect’s terrible condition and because it was located so close to the road the army was traveling on. It looks so much smaller than I remember, he thought while studiously ignoring the remaining members of the sect. They were huddled together in a crowd not too far from where he and Falling Leaf stood. Some in that crowd looked hopeful, but most wore expressions of resignation. They were, no doubt, considering what they would do if they found themselves in Sen’s position and not liking the answers. The patriarch was in that crowd. At least, the man had the good sense or sufficient residual shame not to speak. His gave never left the ground.
Turning to Falling Leaf, Sen said, “I’ve seen enough. Are you ready to go?”
“I am,” she answered. “There’s nothing here for us.”
“Is this what we traded my brother for?” said a voice that Sen recognized. “A man who would abandon his people to die.”
“Chan Yu Ming,” said Sen, settling his gaze on the woman.
She looked worse for wear. Tiredness was etched into her face. Her robes were frayed and ripped in places. Clear evidence that she’d been fighting in them with little time or energy to change into something else. He’d hoped that she would choose to hold her tongue, but hope was ever a fickle thing.
“Well?” she demanded.
“Well, what?” asked Sen.
“Is this the kind of benevolent rule we can expect from King Lu?”
“Who said I was benevolent? And since when have the sects ever deigned to be the subjects of a king?”
Chan Yu Ming seemed stymied by those questions.
“As for these people,” said Sen. “I’m not stopping
them from fleeing to the capital or some other city.”“What about the spirit beasts?” demanded a voice from the crowd.
“As I recall, the last time I was here, all of you were more than content to leave my fate in the hands of the man who tried to kill me. You can think of this as me returning your hospitality in kind.”
No one, save for Chan Yu Ming, was willing to meet his eyes after that.
“Lord Lu,” said the Patriarch, stepping away from the crowd. “I was the one who ordered that Gong Jun De be allowed to escape. If you require vengeance, take your vengeance on me. But, please, take the rest of the sect to safety. I beg you.”
The story has been stolen; if detected on Amazon, report the violation.
“I took my vengeance on Gong Jun De when I destroyed the House of Xie. As for you—” Sen started before Misty Peak whispered in his ear.
“Don’t throw away competent cultivators just to spite people who wronged you.”
He’d half forgotten that she was standing next to him, hidden behind one of her illusions. He wanted to snap at her, but couldn’t do that without looking like he was insane. Falling Leaf stepped in then.
“The prey is right,” she said quietly, sounding annoyed at that concession. “Make them soldiers. They gain you nothing by dying here.”
Sen resisted the urge to glare at everyone while wishing he’d never decided to come to this place. However, with the army about to march by, some kind of meeting had likely been inevitable. He looked at the Clear Spring Sect Patriarch and then let his eyes drift over the rest of the sect members. They all looked tired and frightened. Hardly the picture of haughty sect cultivators. Beyond that, he didn’t even recognize most of them, which made it difficult to feel justified in leaving them to die. At the same time, he couldn’t just let them come along and then leave them somewhere. Not after all the draconian measures he’d taken in the capital.
“If you wish to come with us, you can swear your allegiance to me and serve in the army. Otherwise, you are free to seek safety on your own terms,” Sen finally announced.
“What kind of choice is that?” demanded Chan Yu Ming.
“The best one they’re going to get. Cultivators from every remaining sect in the capital are marching with my army. Mortals are marching with my army. No one is too good to fight the spirit beasts,” said Sen, fixing the woman with a hard look. “No one. I told you already. I am not benevolent. We are at war, and the spirit beasts don’t care who you are. If you want to live, you must contribute. And the only thing cultivators are good for right now is fighting. So, you’ll fight. You’ll do it as part of my army, where you’ll be fed, sheltered, and enjoy the support of others. Or you’ll fight them alone while you try to find somewhere safe. You all have five minutes to make your choice.”
“Are you sure you were harsh enough with them?” asked Misty Peak. “I think one or two of them might not have been completely terrified.”
Sen made a noncommittal noise and walked over to the structure that sheltered the spring the sect took its name from. He didn’t go inside. Instead, he added his own protections to the building. They probably wouldn’t be enough to keep out a truly powerful spirit beast, but they would likely prevent anything from getting in that wasn’t as powerful as a nascent soul cultivator. While Sen might not have any particular love for this sect, he was grateful to the spring the sect contained. It had taught him valuable lessons.
“What is wrong with you?” said Chan Yu Ming.
“I suppose that depends a great deal on who you ask,” answered Sen.
“These people need help, not more fighting.”
“Help?” asked Sen, finally turning to look at her. “And what makes you think there’s any help to give? Do you think anyone in the army I’m dragging to war needs more fighting? I doubt that there’s a person in that army who didn’t lose someone in the battle to defend the capital. But they’re still going to do it because there’s no other choice.”
“What battle?” asked Chan Yu Ming, her face going pale. “Is Jing—”
“He’s alive. I left him as the governor there.”
The cultivator stood there in silence for a long time, just studying him. He couldn’t tell if she was trying to figure something out or didn’t know what to say.
“I thought you didn’t want to get involved,” she said, more than a little bitterness tinging her words.
“I didn’t.”
“Then, why did you?”
“Because someone had to. Because, if I hadn’t, the capital would have fallen. Then, this kingdom would have fallen. The mortals were in denial about the problem. The sects were ignoring the problem. They would have doomed us all.”
“What? One of your teachers couldn’t do it?”
Sen pinched the bridge of his nose as he decided if this conversation was worth continuing.
“They could have,” he admitted, “but some solutions are worse than the problem.”
“I—”
“It looks like they’re ready,” said Sen, gesturing at the crowd. “I guess it’s time to see who wants to try to survive on their own.”