Fates Parallel (A Xianxia/Wuxia Inspired Cultivation Story)

Two things occurred to Kaede as her army clashed with the enemy. The first was relief that her plan had worked—carefully inching her forces close to the enemy fortifications under the guise of posturing for position. Moving into range of the arrows was a calculated decision, but she’d made it look like a mistake.

Yamato’s archers were deceptively dangerous. They’d learned a long time ago that simple arrows weren’t sufficient, so there were entire dojos dedicated to the perfection of ki-empowered archery. The techniques they used were similar to Eui’s old method of charging thrown weapons with her Destruction ki—though thankfully not nearly as dangerous as that.

But she’d been prepared for them. The shields prepared by her mages held, and her vanguard was more than ready to meet the first charge.

That brought her to the second thing. Belatedly, Kaede realized that having Yang Qiu lead the charge was probably not ideal for defeating her enemies with minimal casualties.

The demoness charged fearlessly into the midst of the enemy infantry, who were at first taken aback by her lack of weapons and her monstrous appearance. They were well-trained, however, and rallied quickly, but to no avail.

Yang Qiu had been weakened by the absence of her core, and though she’d once hosted enough stolen power to fight evenly with post-ascension Yoshika, she’d since fallen below even the level of strength she’d had when they first met.

Despite that, she was utterly untouchable on the battlefield. What she’d lost in power, she’d made up for over the past year with training. Her sloppy, chaotic style had been replaced by precise, measured movements and calculated attacks. Her mantle of black tentacles moved as though each limb had a mind of its own, striking at every opening with brutal efficiency.

Yang Qiu’s attacks were rarely immediately lethal, but each swipe of her claws or stab of a tentacle would leave a foe badly weakened. Those who didn’t collapse immediately were left defenseless against the oncoming onslaught of the remaining demons.

Realizing they were outmatched, the enemy soldiers tried to mount a retreat under the cover of their supporting archers. But they soon found that trying to pull a weakened soldier out of the fighting would cause Yang Qiu’s deadly Miasma to spread.

They were forced to leave the wounded behind and mount an all-out retreat, only to be cut off by Jin Hu and Ruiling’s forces from either flank.

Kuba’s caution was his undoing. If he’d gone with a full assault from the beginning, then there would have been no room for Kaede’s troops to overwhelm his vanguard so thoroughly. Instead, she’d completely wiped out a third of his forces in the opening clash and could now push her way into his fortifications.

It was too easy. Kuba may have fought by the book, but even for such a strict adherent to military doctrine, the blunder seemed too egregious. As her forces continued their advance, Kaede kept herself alert for any traps.

It didn’t take long for her to find it. Though it was clear that losing his vanguard hadn’t been part of the plan, the fortifications were a death trap, designed to funnel the much smaller army into a surrounded position where they would have no choice but to fight on all sides while suffering a hail of powerful arrows.

Kaede had to commend him. Had his fighting retreat been more effective, or if she’d been less cautious in her advance, it would have been an excellent way to take advantage of her army’s inferior size and her need for haste.

He didn’t need to crush her—only hold her off long enough for reinforcements to arrive, and for word of her incursion to spread far enough for her enemies to prepare. His strategy had been perfect for baiting and then punishing her aggressive strategies.

But Kaede wasn’t just a Lady of Yamato, and her soldiers weren’t limited to martial artists. Kuba was fighting like it was a dispute between lords—which it was, in a way. That was his greatest mistake yet.

“Melati, draw me a diagram of their camp’s layout.”

The drone next to Kaede saluted before quickly scribbling out a rough image of the camp. It wasn’t perfect, but it told Kaede everything she needed to know.

“Thank you. Tell the lieutenants to hold at the gate, and if there are any surviving prisoners, get them to the support corps right away for healing—they’re going to need it.”

“Yes ma’am!”

Melati didn’t move from where she was standing, which felt a bit odd, but Kaede knew that she’d be executing her orders through the other drones. Melati’s utility as a scout and messenger was completely unrivaled. Even Yoshika herself couldn’t match the sheer number of tasks that an entire collective of fiendish wasps could execute at once.

Kaede moved ahead to meet with her lieutenants on the front line. Kuba’s forces were content to lay in wait, only occasionally trying to catch them off guard with sporadic volleys of arrows. Time was on their side.

Jin Hu bowed as she approached.

“Greetings, my lady. Is something amiss? The battle seems to be going quite well.”

“Their camp is a death trap. Even after that skirmish, they still have twice our numbers, and they’re prepared to take full advantage.”

“I see. Are we to mount a siege, then?”

Kaede shook her head.

“No time. I’m going to have to act personally.”

She turned and took a few steps toward the enemy camp, amplifying her voice as much as possible before calling out.

“Commander Kuba Tetsuo. This is my final ultimatum—surrender now and I promise no further harm will come to you or the men and women under your command.”

There was no response for a few minutes, but eventually a response came from behind the walls—not quite as loud, but still empowered by ki.

“Lady Hayakawa, you are bluffing. We have you outnumbered, and we can hold this position as long as necessary. You caught me off guard with that skirmish, but it won’t happen again.”

“You’re a good soldier, Sir Kuba. I’m sorry I have to do this to you, but you were warned.”

He didn’t respond, but Kaede was already preparing her next move.

Magic had never really been her strongest discipline, but being part of Yoshika had smoothed over many of the gaps—even though it was something that they all neglected. They’d had the better part of a year to catch up, and it turned out that teaching was also an excellent way to learn.

Though she’d intended to use it against a proper castle, Kaede produced her most formidable talisman. The materials were mostly plain, though she’d made an effort to source a few that were particularly receptive to her Gravity essence. In particular, it was written in ink infused with the powdered core of a meteorite and charged with a hint of her divine essence.

It was overkill for the simple makeshift palisades that the Kurokawa army had erected overnight, but Kaede wanted to send a clear message. She would not be stopped, stalled, or delayed in any way.

The enemy camp realized what was happening and began to rain arrows down on her position, but she trusted her mages to shield her while she channeled power into the spell.

While there were some exceptions—such as Seong Misun—most Goryeon mages favored a very simple and utilitarian naming convention for their spells. Kaede had always approved of the practice, privately rolling her eyes at the flashy and fanciful names of some of the martial and spiritual techniques she’d encountered over the years.

So, in following that convention, she’d given her ultimate spell a similarly simple name. A title, description, and invocation all in one elegant word—not that she’d speak it aloud. Nevertheless, as her divine essence wrote itself into the fabric of the world, it was clear as day to those who knew how to sense it.

Sacred Art: Earthquake

The world shuddered and the earth churned under the power of Kaede’s spell, as though an invisible giant had just stomped its foot directly onto the enemy camp. Scout towers toppled and walls fell as great rifts cracked open like yawning maws to swallow up the fortifications.

For a full minute, the turmoil raged, until at last the earth’s trembling ceased and the dust settled. The camp was leveled. Not a single structure remained intact, and hundreds of soldiers lay dead or injured in the aftermath of Kaede’s destructive assault.

Without a word, she pointed forward, and her forces began to march.

Kuba surrendered within the hour.

 

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Though Yoshika had been expecting a grueling battle against a superior force, things went far better than expected. Jiaguo’s side experienced relatively few casualties, with the injuries that they had sustained being manageable enough. Thanks to a little help from the Cult of Harmonious Stars, they weren’t even enough to slow down the army’s march.

Another surprise came from the number of casualties on the enemy side. Despite the brutal nature of Yang Qiu’s opening assault, the demonic forces had captured far more than they’d killed. In fact, once the numbers were tallied, more of Kuba’s forces had died as a result of Yoshika’s devastating spell than had fallen in combat.

That was a chilling thought. The demons had held back, perhaps in an effort to prove that they could overcome their natures, yet Yoshika had so casually and ruthlessly taken the lives of dozens in a moment.

It felt like too much power for one person. She had killed before, and long since come to terms with the realities of combat and war. Yoshika would not hold back when it came to defending herself or her people. What concerned her most was that snuffing out the lives of so many so easily didn’t make her feel anything.

There was no horror or regret, no shock at how many she’d killed. She’d done what was necessary, and the results were what they were.

But it felt as though she should be more remorseful. It made her worry that she might lose sight of things and become the sort of immortal who stopped even thinking of mortals as people.

Unfortunately, she didn’t have time to contemplate the morality of her own power. She’d absolutely spend some time unpacking it later, but her most immediate concern was making her way safely through Kurokawa.

Kuba’s forces had only been the beginning, and while Jiaguo’s army had proven more capable than even she’d expected, the lord’s castle was a completely different sort of challenge.

The army made good time through Kurokawa’s land, arriving at the castle town well ahead of their estimations. Nevertheless, the lord was ready for them. Kuba’s vanguard had been three times their number, but the forces arrayed before the walls of Kurokawa castle were greater still.

There was no way around it. The number of prisoners they were keeping was already too high to sustain for long periods, and as dramatically outnumbered as they were Kaede couldn’t afford to dedicate enough forces to keep those prisoners in line.

If she fought this battle, it would be beyond bloody. Kaede had been lucky to come out of the first one mostly unscathed, but this was the moment which would define her campaign.

She knew what her father would do. Kaede had grown up training for moments like this—to silently close off her heart and do what needed to be done for the good of her clan and country. War, he would say, was the altar of progress—and the lives lost here would be a sacrifice to fuel a better tomorrow.

Kaede rejected those teachings.

If there was any way for her to proceed without creating such a tragedy, no matter how unlikely or dangerous, she would take it. And so, she commanded her army to hold. To fight only as necessary to defend their position outside the walls.

Yamato had a long history of bringing arrogant xiantian cultivators low when they thought they could single-handedly take an entire castle—dating back well before Ienaga Yumi’s time. Yoshika knew what she was risking. She knew just how dangerous her next move was.

“Jin Hu, if I don’t return within a day, assume that I have been captured or killed and fall back. Ransom the prisoners, if you have to.”

The enigmatic man from Qin bowed.

“I must once again advise you against this course, my lady. You risk far more than merely the outcome of the war by fighting alone.”

“I understand the risk, Jin Hu, but the reward is worth it. I have to set myself apart from the power hungry conquerors I’m forced to call my peers.”

He sighed and shook his head.

“I’ve made my arguments. May your victory be swift and decisive. For the future of Jiaguo.”