Waterstrider

Canvas Town, Tseludia Station, Pantheonic Territory, Fifthmonth, 1634 PTS

Juen was not as injured as the world believed him to be. He had broken a few bones, of course, but this was nothing that could hamper a man such as him. He was a spirit refiner, after all. Even when he was injured, no martial artist below his level could even hope to contend.

He had been excused from the mission to destroy the Celan headquarters. For separate reasons, both he and Karie had been absent during the meeting of the Council of Elders to decide on the course of action, and his supporters had managed to play up the scope of his state. Even if the opposition knew the truth, they had not bothered to intervene, likely suspecting it was more a matter of worry that he might die in the fraught battle. After all, even the greatest of warriors could falter and die in the chaos of war. In truth, however, it was all for this moment.

Some people, said the Analects of Ceirra, could tell apart righteousness and evil, and which choices should be made. Others needed the wrong choice to be stripped from their options, to remove the chance to slip off of the righteous path.

The Matriarch, the Supreme Elder had told him, was the latter. She was a great woman, but one who might endanger herself and others if the wrong opportunities were presented to her. Juen’s role was to strip such opportunities away, to excise the cancer which had been growing inside of Canvas Town. He was here to destroy the Redwater Sect, to pull up every little unorthodox sapling by the root, and salt the earth from which it had grown. The Redwater Sect should never have been granted the opportunity to exist, and Juen was simply rectifying his aunt’s mistake.

In Juen’s mind, his Aunt Sirena was simply too liberal-minded. To have a truly stable rule, he thought, one needed to bow to tradition, even when one found it foolish and backwards. To that end, he would grasp the support base his predecessor had disdained. If he destroyed her pet project, Juen knew that he would gain the support he needed. Currently, he already had support from the Supreme Elder, the greatest backing he could wish for. Meanwhile, Lorelei had the support from the merchant faction, while Karie was only supported by Wei.

Juen actually deeply respected the man, just as he did his Aunt Sirena, but he believed that the both of them were blinded by their emotions. It was obvious to everyone else that Karie was a poor choice, and in her current position, she was no threat at all to his position.

Now, he only needed to contend with Lorelei for the position, and that meant appealing to his supporters. In fact, his current move would not strengthen his position, and nor would it weaken his opponent. However, it was a personal request from the Supreme Elder, and so Juen knew he must obey. After this, the old man would owe him a favor. The mere thought brought a smile to his lips.

As Juen inspected the live video of the sect headquarters, he couldn’t help but think about the sort of people that resided within. They were all Canvasian, of course. The majority Seiyal, with a small number of Tovus acting in support roles. His heart panged slightly when he thought of killing so many of his own people, but Juen knew deep down that this was a righteous culling. Each and every person inside was a traitor to the orthodox path, someone who had willingly chosen to join up with an unorthodox force. They had signed their own death warrants, and Juen was merely the one who would deliver the final blow.

If anything, he could be considered to simply be acting under orders from god herself. If anyone could decide what was right and what was wrong, it would certainly be the creator of the Seiyal herself.

He turned to those around him, ready to get started. This was something that could only be done right now. Most of the Elders were busy in Little Celah, and all of the Redwater spirit refiners were gone as well. There would never be any opportunity of this level.

“Are the explosives ready?” he asked, receiving a sharp nod in response.

Due to the sheer size of the force which had been sent to the sixth district, Juen had needed to secretly move forces that had been residing in safehouses in various different districts. One commonality was that each of the practitioners present was either a devout Ceirran, or had deep ties to the faction.

“Good. Let us get going.”

“By your will, Elder.”

Moments later, the man, whose name was Eiri Duzu, if Juen recalled correctly, began running around to relay his orders to the others. They would need to react in unison if they wished to maximize their effectiveness. Otherwise, there would be little chance for success.

With the process in motion, Juen simply stood, watching the headquarters of the second largest force in the district, this mere upstart. Waiting for its walls to be blown open. He watched as a line of practitioners standing on the opposite stack activated long tubes of bootleg weaponry, sending rockets blasting across the way. The walls of the Redwater Sect were rapidly torn open, revealing the finely paneled interior. Shocked accountants and disciples were blasted back, unable to react in time.

They had only barely begun to react as Juen led a charge, staff in hand. As he passed by a black-robed disciple, he slammed the staff down, crushing in the face of the mere foundation refiner. There was nothing she could do, her life snuffed out in an instant. Juen felt sorry about the task he was performing, but his decisions were not governed by such feelings.

It was unfortunate, but not everyone could be granted the opportunity of a second chance. He needed to be merciless, to send a message that the unorthodox path was something wholly unacceptable.

He continued to move deeper into the sect, slaying those he crossed. The chaos had begun to spread as he and his men moved inwards, and the disciples continued to move further inside. But Juen knew of every entrance and exit to the building, as the opportunity of the sect’s renovations had allowed the clan to compile a full map of its interior. There would be no escape for any of them, merely a delay of an inevitable outcome.

Juen swung his staff again as he charged a fleeing disciple, but rather than flesh, his swing was met with steel, deflected by the blow of a sword. He turned, surprised, as there were few who could interrupt the force of his blows. None of which he had expected to be present.

The figure was that of a farsei woman, her hair tied up properly, and who was wearing the white and red robes of the Redwater Sect’s Palace Leaders. In the pale hallway light, he couldn’t help but feel that her form was a clear opposite to his own pale skin, and his black robe lined in green.

However, he thought the difference was that unlike him, this woman was weak.

“It is Cinto Sakie, right?” he asked.

The woman laughed madly in response, a crazed expression on her face as she waved the disciple to run away, deeper into the building.

“I knew this day would come,” she said. “From the day I met him, I knew he would lead me to my death.”

“Wasn’t it obvious? All formless practitioners are mad. You should have thrown your lot in with a better force.”

She sneered at his words, disgusted by them.

“How is your petty clan any better? Your powers might not kill you, but you take your strength out on everyone else, instead. You’re oppressors, not guardians. He, at least, offered these children an opportunity to better themselves, and you wish to kill them. All because of a situation you created.” Her knuckles tightened on the hilt of her blade as she set her stance tighter. “If you wish to hurt them, you must kill me first.”

Hearing this, Juen smirked.

“Quite bold, coming from a mere core formation practitioner.”

He could see the sweat beginning to drip on her forehead, and suspected her palms might have moistened as well. This woman was a fool, but Juen respected her conviction. He would allow this. He set himself into a martial stance, facing towards her. She silently stared back at him, her eyes unwavering.

His smile grew wider.

“In that case, allow me to see the strength of your conviction.”

The Ceirran Faction of the Hadal Clan: [While it is somewhat repressed, a few choice religions have been allowed to exist by the Pantheonic Government, particularly those where the figure out worship lacks a conflicting domain with the Pantheonic gods. One of these is the worship of Ceirra by the Seiyal. Brought over to Tseludia largely by the Sunlit Hall force known as the Hadal Clan, the Ceirrans are both suppressed openly by the government and in secret by Sirena Hadal, their own Matriarch, who is a firm believer in secular rule. Such policies are rumored to have a relation to the clan’s choice to go into exile. Despite such disadvantages, due to hidden support, the faction has grown over time to become one of the clan’s two great factions, along with the merchant faction.]