Chapter 5: Chapter 5: A Taste of Battle

“Sir?” the young scout shouted as he turned his back towards the cultivator following behind him. People fled in the opposite direction they travelled towards, seeking shelter in the healer’s tent. 

“Yes?” Yaihan replied, his attention focused on the opposite side of the camp.

“Are you sure you don’t need a weapon? I don’t know how you plan on fighting the Oni without one.”

“Save them for those that need it," Yaihan replied. “The sooner I arrive on the battlefield, the better.”

“Maybe you should have spent more time with Lysa.” As he led Yaihan through the fleeing crowd, he tapped his temple. “Seems like you could use a few minutes of Curative Bubble cast on your brain.”

Shouts of pain overcame the sound of clashing metal. Despite the gate being shut, the clamor of battle raged on beyond the thick wooden pillars that encompassed the camp. “Thank you for leading me here,” Yaihan said to the scout as he passed him. 

“Wait up!” The scout grabbed Yaihan by the arm, making him stop in his tracks and turn around. “Even though you’re crazy, I can’t just let you go out there and get yourself killed! At least take a sword or spear with you!”

The cultivator gently lifted his wrist and freed himself from his grasp. “I told you I have no need for that. You stay behind these walls. When the other soldiers and I all return, you’ll understand.”

The scout raised one hand, eager to grab onto Yaihan’s robes to get him to stop advancing, but his hesitation allowed the cultivator to advance undeterred. The two guards were visible on the other side through the cracks between the posts’ gaps. Yaihan knocked on the wood with the back of his hand and grabbed the men’s attention. 

“Can you let me through here?” he asked calmly. The pair of trembling men turned from the raging battle ahead to face the cultivator.

“The purpose of this camp is to stay inside and be protected!” the older men said. 

“Please. Just open the gate so I can join the others. They need my help,” Yaihan pleaded. 

“If the new guy wants to march to his death, so be it,” the other soldier said as he unfastened the knot that kept the gate closed. “That means more resources for the folks with common sense!” Together, the two guards struggled to pry the massive wooden door open. Yaihan extended his hands and the pair of doors opened wide with ease.

“Never got the doors to the gate open that fast!” the first guard said as he stared on the door, struggling to get moving from its ajar position.

Once out of the camp, Yaihan gazed into the distance. Humans fled as fast as they could from their demonic pursuers. The army was scattered, with some forces closer to the camp than others. Oni-Zhen marauders flanked their positions from both angles, splitting the troops into disarray.

The skirmish closest to the camp caught Yaihan’s attention. Dozens of men encircled four Onis. The humans armed with spears kept their distance from the demons, only for their weapons to bounce off their crimson flesh. With a single backhanded swing, one of the Oni sent three Xiwaoans flying, sending their limp and lifeless bodies splatting against the dry ground. 

With a quick bend of his knees, Yaihan got into a jumping position. He paused for a moment to focus on where he wanted to land before propelling himself with a leap. The cultivator soared over the barren expanse, flying like an arrow through the sky. Yaihan’s eyes focused on the Oni that slain the Xiwaoans; he situated his leg for a diving kick and aimed at the demon’s hand.

A red mist covered the area as Yaihan’s foot obliterated the Oni’s head and dragged the rest of the demon’s body to the ground in a bloody, muddy explosion. All fighting in the area stopped as Xiwaoan and Oni-Zhen alike waited for the dust from the impact to settle. 

Yaihan emerged unscathed. At his feet was the still twitching and decapitated corpse of the Oni. The human survivors started to retreat, more terrified of Yaihan than of their demon enemies. The Oni looked more perplexed as they watched Yaihan face the soldiers in front of him.

“Head back to the camp!” Yaihan shouted as he pointed towards the open gate a short run away. “I’ll deal with the Oni-Zhen!”

Instead of obeying Yaihan’s command, the soldiers instead stared at each other and maintained their battle positions. 

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“Is this your new commander?” one demon moaned. “A man in rags?” The Oni looked at Yaihan while lifting his jagged sword with both hands. He attacked the cultivator with a sideways swing. Yaihan leaped over the strike, soaring several feet above the Oni’s head. All three demons looked up in shock as Yaihan descended with grace over his attacker. He landed with one foot on top of the demon’s head, spreading his arms apart to keep balance.

“Get off me!” the demon screamed as his hands flailed around to flick Yaihan off his head. With simple flicks of his wrists, Yaihan parried each attempt to bring him down, stopping the demon’s fingers in their tracks. “What are you?” the Oni cried.

Yaihan didn’t answer his foe’s question. Instead, he raised one fist and punched down, collapsing the demon’s head in on itself. The body’s legs squirmed as it toppled to the ground in a motionless and bloody heap. Once back on the ground, Yaihan looked at the surviving soldiers with fervor in his eyes.

“I said go! I’ll take care of your pursuers!” the cultivator shouted while looking at the still-dumbfounded soldiers. Most of the men fled for the safety of the camp, but as Yaihan looked at the remaining two Onis, their attention drifted from him to focus on defending themselves from another warrior.

A woman dressed in purple robes and leggings battled with a mace-wielding Oni. An intricate mask in the shape of a dragon obscured the upper part of her face. Despite the mask, her anger was clear through her dark brown eyes and how her gritting teeth were visible through her mouth. She swung a sickle attached to a rope with all her might at her foe, latching the hook into his hand’s skin. She pulled on her weapon, dragging the demon to the ground.

“I’ll take care of them,” Yaihan said to the woman. She turned her head, still holding onto the rope to keep the demon grounded.

“I don’t flee from a winning battle,” the kunoichi replied. She then vanished in a cloud of smoke before reappearing in another purple puff above the demon’s head. Once on top of her enemy, she gave her rope a fierce heave, tearing the sickle from the demon’s flesh. Black blood trailed through the air as the hook returned to the woman’s hand. She caught it with ease and began stabbing away at the demon’s scalp.

With wails of pain, the demon squirmed as he lay on his stomach. The kunoichi continued her barrage of stabs and slashes, tearing away at the demon’s flesh. Before she could land the final blow, the demon rolled over to his side, sending the kunoichi to the ground. 

“Let me handle the demons,” Yaihan said to the woman as she landed gracefully despite the abrupt launch. “There’s no point in risking your life.”

“I told you already,” the woman said as she rested her arm against her hip and took in a deep breath. Her rope sickle dangled at her side while she pointed at Yaihan’s chest. “I don’t flee from winning battles! I’m staying right here.” Another sentence lingered on her lips until she saw the second demon dash towards them. Yaihan remained still, only turning his head enough past his shoulder to watch the demon approach. 

“Get out of the way!” the woman shouted as she pulled on Yaihan’s arm. Despite all her might, the cultivator remained still, staring at the rapidly approaching Oni as he raised his stone club above his head.

“Now you’ll both die!” the demon screamed with wicked joy all over his face. The kunoichi took a step back and put her arms in front of her face to protect herself from the incoming strike.

Yaihan remained confident. He intercepted the club with an uppercut, blasting the stone to bits and leaving the Oni unarmed. The demon stared at his empty hand and then at Yaihan with pure fear filling his eyes. 

The cultivator turned to face the kunoichi. Through the narrow slits in her eyes, her expression looked not too different from the now-unarmed Oni. “If you decide to stay, that’s your choice,” Yaihan said quietly. “But I’d advise against you risking your life for a bit of pride.”

“It’s not pride,” the kunoichi replied with her flushed red from embarrassment. “It’s duty!”

Yaihan reached down and picked up a stone shard the size of his head and threw it with a single heave. The rock flew as if it was launched from a catapult and stopped when it hit the demon’s chest. The Oni toppled backwards with the stone embedded through his flesh. His fingers grasped onto the rock, slipping off the smooth surface as he tried in vain to remove the object. 

“I admire your dedication,” Yaihan said while the two demons writhed in pain on the ground. He extended one hand for a shake. “May I ask your name?”

The kunoichi flicked back loose strands of her hair with her glove hand before giving Yaihan a firm shake. “Kanakoya. But everyone else just calls me Koya.”

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Art Spotlight: Kanakoya Horoda

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