บท 104: Evacuation Order
The ground trembled as Essence attacks flew in all directions, displacing air and dirt in scorching, freezing or stinking waves or solid slaps thick with the scent of lightning strikes, ash, smoke, blood, vomit, feces and even less pleasant smells.
The clamour of yet another battle pummeled Dàilán's senses; cries of rage and pain, shouts of sorrow and victory, screams of agony and profanity mixed with the grunts of combat. All around her, the clash of weapons and armour and the sound of weapons hitting their mark on combatants battered her ears accompanied by the spiteful hiss and crackle of Formations and Essence Weapons striving to overcome each other - all competing with the howling, burning, humming and thundering of various Essence, weapons and martial techniques being thrown and the resulting explosions or other effects as they hit or missed targets.
The crow-light filtering through the clearing the Guan refugees were hunkering down in was obscured with clouds of dust, dirt, smashed flora - great swathes of trees smashed to kindling, their pulverised wood or leaves shredded and mulched - being blasted around every time there was a strike.
The flashes, glows, mists and splashes both bright and dark or otherwise of techniques added to the confusion, cutting down visibility as Dàilán ran through the battle with great sweeping strides, avoiding and countering attacks from the Grass Cultists that swarmed around her like flies.
She could not see more than a chǐ around her - unless she looked skyward where her Father was battling with Cǎo Jiàn - the ripples and shocks from the clashing of their swords blasted away the effects of lesser techniques and added to the danger - Cǎo Jiàn was indiscriminate with his attacks.
Dàilán activated the River Flows technique to dive into the ground just as one of the traitor's missed strikes pulverised a section directly in her path, incidentally shredding a group Grass fighters. The BloodWitch appeared out of nowhere to deflect the remainder of the strike as they exploded into bloody mist - saving the Knife Sect Cultivators and two Guan Formation Masters that they had been battling.
The three Knife enforcers immediately pivoted to attack another group of Grass as the Formation Masters rotated their defences with the BloodWitch's signature cackle leading the way, drawing the fanatics like flies.
Dàilán cancelled River Flows as she pushed herself out and off of the ground. The constant running clashes all day since that bastard of a mixed egg had caught up to them with his reinforcements, meant that no one could not afford to keep techniques running through entire battles lest they be caught without Essence in the next fight.
The group of refugees had nearly run through the resources they had managed to escape with or purchase from the White Lotus - even with opportunistic looting. Unfortunately, the Grass Cultists only generally carried low level pills and elixirs on them, so most of what they had gathered had been of minimal use.
A skinny Grass Cultivator and his three compatriots loomed out of the chaos and leapt at her simultaneously - their faces twisted in fanaticism and glee. The young Heiress swore, the sound of her voice swallowed up in the cacophony, even as her arms and legs moved automatically, sending brutally efficient dagger slashes towards all four attacker's vital points as she was forced to throw herself the last few chǐ to where the other Guan were methodically holding down defensive Formations.
Her dagger Essence instantly beheaded two of the Cultivators even as she hit the dirt and rolled across the defensive line; the crackling snap-hiss of the restored formation behind her resulted in two short lived screams and a brief waft of roasted pork as the others were caught in the restored Essence barrier while fending off her strikes.
The sounds of the battle outside the defenses subsided to a muffled rumble, the impacts of detonations against the Formations only resulting in bright flares of light from the defensive symbols and small quivers through the ground.
Pushing herself to her feet, she nodded in thanks to the Guan woman maintaining this segment of the formations, the pale face and dark circles around her eyes belying the grim smile of satisfaction her Clanswoman gave her before the woman turned to continue monitoring her section of the formations - her hands moving swiftly among shifting and glowing symbols to send a small blinding beam of Essence to blast some nearby Grass fodder.
Dàilán moved quickly towards the center of the small defensive position, noting the worryingly exhausted, pale, and bleak expressions of the wounded and those Guan Formation experts and their limited pool of reserve fighters who were off rotation, barely noticing her presence.
"This is not working," she muttered to herself as she moved swiftly with deliberately measured, confident strides to where she could see Monitor Leng manipulating the central nexus of the increasingly complex formation the group had been constantly been adding to and refining over the past two days.
"We are stuck," remarked Leng as she came closer, "if I had advised moving towards the Wilderness immediately this morning, we might have gotten away from the traitor before he could catch up to us."
"Maybe, maybe not - this is his fifth attempt to overwhelm us since he started attacking barely half a shi after the meeting this morning... We have to pry the fool off of us first," answered Dàilán flatly, quickly studying the situation map generated by the Formation, "they have not flanked us to the North East yet, but we simply cannot move with him coming after us like this. He is spending his men's lives like water, but it is working."
"The only reason Grass have not bothered to curl around us to the East is that they think we - are - being attacked on the Eastern front - someone is still sending false reports," stated Monitor Leng, "I have actually pulled most of our forces off the safe side to reinforce the other directions - it is the only reason we have been able to hold out as long as we have," he told the Heiress in a monotone voice as his eyes and hands moved all over the symbols that floated in front of him, repeating what he had mentioned earlier that morning, "I have got the few Formation Masters that are still assigned to watch East - mostly wounded or strained Cultivators - to actually send up flashes and noises from their formations so the Grass do not get the idea to go and double check the reports."
"We are fortunate that we have not seen any of those Grass Cultivators with higher level techniques, Cultivations or the Formations tattooed into their skin either," added Dàilán wearily, rubbing her eyes, "I am guessing they are all out attacking the Knife Sect."
"Besides the Traitor, yes," confirmed Leng, then his expression grew grim even as he kept watching the symbols move and shift on the map in front of him and his voice grew heavy, "Heir, at this point I think we have to give up on trying to reinforce the Sect. Even if we managed to get to the páifāng the Cultivators and Formation Masters are growing so exhausted that we would be nothing but fodder for the Grass siege group that is stationed there."
Dàilán swept her eyes across the map again, "... Cǎo Jiàn's attacks are actually doing more damage to his forces than ours…" she spoke with one hand pointing out flickering lines indicating damage to enemy forces while she dragged the other hand across her face, forcing back the exhaustion of nearly three days of constant fighting, low Essence, little food and less sleep by sheer will, forcing herself to think clearly.
"We have to make a push," she stated bleakly after a moment, "I know we do not have the forces to overwhelm them, but we - need - to force them to retreat - maybe even break, if we can manage it. Our forces are faltering for lack of rest and Essence. He can just keep throwing bodies at us until someone falls down faster than we can reinforce. We are dying the death of a thousand cuts."
"We are not going to be able to attack the siege position anyway," agreed Monitor Leng, "better we throw them off of us while we still can, instead of trying to hold back for a battle we are not going to be able to fight."
Dàilán glanced up at the late afternoon crowlight that filtered fitfully through the mess and fell through the formations into the relatively calm camp, "His indiscriminate attacks have actually made most of his force back off - the fanatics are mostly dead," she pointed at the symbols that floated above the map, "look - it is subtle, but they are beginning to disengage. We cannot let them go - if they hit us tonight after rest and reinforcement…"
Monitor Leng nodded, "They are expecting us to do the same as before - break off into the formations, try to rest and move towards the páifāng. We have to throw them back and off balance enough that they will not attack tonight - that would give us a chance to escape to the North East through the gap in their lines - better the wilderness than this."
He turned to look directly at her with a serious expression only underlined by the dark bags under his eyes and tiredness in his face, "but with your Father and Senior out there you are the only one with the authority to issue such an order."
Dàilán nodded, straightening, "all jades, Monitor Leng," she ordered, gripping her own soul tablet for good measure and pushing a thread of Essence into it.
The Knife Monitor straightened and inclined his head respectfully, "At the Heir's order," he responded formally and slapped a rune floating to one side, "all jades active."
"Guan and Knife, hear your Heir's words," Dàilán spoke firmly and steadily, "the enemy seeks to withdraw and attack again at their convenience. We must push them now when they are least expecting it or die ignominiously of exhaustion at their leisure. For our fallen and our survival - push them hard! Hold nothing back! If we die - at least we will make their victory taste like ashes!"
There was a moment of silence that was quickly replaced with roars of agreement. All around her in the camp, exhausted teams of Guan Cultivators and Knives and the wounded resting in the camp who could still fight were getting to their feet, raising weapons and charging out of the Defense formations to plow into the surprised and suddenly off balance Grass with any technique they could muster the Essence for. Dàilán let her head hang to hide her tears, fighting back the urge to follow as the lights on the map surged and smashed into the slowly disengaging Grass groups with surprising speed.
The attack Formations suddenly blazed as the current Formation Holders on the defense dumped their last reserves of Essence to create a covering fire of 'War Strikes' - many collapsing with exhaustion - while other Formation Masters rapidly switched rotations at the defense line.
The 'War Strikes' blasted ahead of the wave of tired and wounded Cultivators and Formation Masters pouring out of the defensive lines with screams of rage and war cries to chill the blood, striking as hard as they could in a single cohesive strike, that overwhelmed the Grass lines, pushing them into a startled retreat. New Formation Masters switched into the Defensive lines ahead of schedule and the reserve rotation moved into readiness positions - all screaming out encouragement as their fellow clanswomen charged out.
Dàilán chuckled grimly, watching the Grass lines recoil and fail to escape the charge and sudden profligate use of 'War Strikes' from the Formations, "If the mixed egg had any brains, he would have just followed us from a distance and waited for us to hit the siege group before hammering us 'against the anvil'. We are lucky he wanted to claim all the merit for capturing us himself."
"I do not think he expected your father or the Bloodwitch in our group, to be fair - they have upset his plans…"Monitor Leng's eyes widened as a symbol on the map in front of him suddenly flashed urgently and he slapped a floating rune to one side of him, his voice suddenly booming through the clearing and every communication jade, "Maximum defense! Take Cover Immediat…"
There was a brilliant white flash, the defense Formations lit up like fireworks and the ground suddenly rolled like waves as a sound like thunder overcame the sound baffling formations. The camp was thrown into chaos, with objects and wounded thrown into midair as whatever caused the flash sent a shockwave rippling through the ground despite the defense Formations.
Dàilán could only imagine the havoc outside the defense lines where there was no Formation to blunt the impact. Cries rang out as Formation Masters collapsed from withstanding the strain of the strike and the reserves scrambled into position to maintain the Formations before they failed - despite the earthquake that was literally throwing them around like ragdolls.
Dàilán gripped the table with the map as the shock died away and formation symbols flickered and stabilised, sweeping her vision across the symbols that indicated their forces and Grass'.
"Good reaction, Monitor Leng," she ground out tightly, as the young man clambered to his feet and did his own checks, swiftly and urgently tapping shapes and symbols with his scriber, "your warning was just enough - whatever that was decimated Grass, but our forces reacted the moment the second word was out of your mouth. No fatalities, but casualties…"
Her lips twisted tightly as she read the symbols, "Damn. We are down to a third of effective fighters - if that. Those who can still fight have at least minor mounds and exhaustion. We cannot capitalise on Grass' disarray - they can still wipe us out if we go after them in this state. The next battle will finish us if they come at us again."
Monitor Leng was doing his own analysis, "they cannot. That more than decimated the Grass forces - they lost at least a quarter of their remaining force in that - whatever it was. They are pulling back… except for that bastard Cǎo Jiàn…" he held up a hand and pushed another rune that was floating nearby, resulting in a loud burst of criss-crossing conversation to suddenly become audible:
"Attack! You motherless sons of…" Cǎo Jiàn's voice crackling with familiar fury, spat out of the rune and Dàilán's eyes narrowed as she stared at it.
"Enough of this foolishness," snapped out another, older male voice, "Your bull-headed insistence in charging in to grab the glory for yourself has cost us the majority of our remaining forces and far exceeded the mandate from the Elders. I am ordering a retreat back to the Grass Sect. If we lose any more Death Warriors, the Orthodox Sects may be tempted to strike even with the Elders holding the Blood Wards. The god's punishment will be fierce if we win the siege but lose the Sect."
"Coward!" snapped Cǎo Jiàn's voice, "one more push and we will all have the Cultivation Vessels…"
"One more push and we will all have fed the Grass for no gain; death is Natural, but death without gain is pointless. Stay if you want. I am ordering the retreat," replied the voice smugly.
Monitor Leng turned wide eyes to Dàilán, waving the rune off as Cǎo Jiàn's voice fell into sputters and unintelligible curses, "Internal politics - it has to be. With most of that bastard's personal forces killed…"
Dàilán nodded, "all jades, Monitor," she said shakily, then forced the shock from her voice as he nodded and tapped the same rune as before, "All Knives and Guan, the Grass are leaving. We won. Fall back - prepare to move out. Do not let any of those turtles kill any of you now."
The lights floating over the table shifted back towards the camp in good order and Dàilán let out a shaky breath, gripping the table as her legs threatened to buckle beneath her.
"Well done, Heir," Leng spoke firmly, "go and help coordinate the withdrawal - I can manage the rest of this," he swept his hand around to indicate the cheering camp.
"Find out what caused that… earthquake and keep an eye open for any changes towards the Wilderness," replied Dàilán as she stepped away, headed back towards the defensive line.
"My first priority, I assure you, Heir," agreed the Monitor as his hands shifted quickly over the formation runes and glyphs, "I will let you know as soon as I know anything concrete."
---
The next shi as the shadows grew long and the Golden Crow headed for its nest, was a blur of exhausted activity, stripping the dead of any useful items and patching up the battle force as much as possible while the camp slowly moved eastward as fast as they could without leaving anyone behind.
"We cannot afford to rest," insisted Monitor Leng as the command group gathered at the moving center of the group, "Grass is licking their wounds - most of them are leaving. It looks like the traitor has only managed to keep a few small squads with him. They have not bothered to check on us, so the further East we get before they notice we are not headed for the páifāng any longer and come after us, the better."
"Why are we not moving towards the Knife Sect anymore?" snapped out the BloodWitch, even as she unconsciously rocked on unsteady feet, exhausted. As the only other Sky level combatant she had been taking the larger portion of protecting the lower ranking Cultivators from higher level attacks and Cultivators. Cǎo Jiàn's appearance had only exacerbated matters as it had tied up Dàilán's father leaving her the only one able to act as a heavy hitter.
"We cannot," coughed Dàilán's father, discreetly lowering his hand from his mouth, "Our forces would not even be noticed if we attacked a main Grass battle group at this point; at best we would be swiftly killed."
"It would not be so simple," added Dàilán grimly, "the communications we have intercepted from that mixed egg have him mentioning cultivation vessels in every other sentence - we would be offering Grass the entire reason they attacked the Clan on a plate - and they would not even have to work hard."
The BloodWitch glared mutinously for a moment, then slumped, "you are right - it is… we need to rest if we are to have any chance," she murmured.
Dàilán's father laughed wetly, "that strike of yours just as they were disengaging was inspired, daughter; both of us attacked him and he panicked…" he stumbled and Dàilán darted to his side in alarm, "Father!"
"Your idiot Father deflected that traitor's full force Heaven's Sword technique into the Grass forces before I could position myself to assist," retorted the BloodWitch, a hitch in her voice as she was suddenly holding his other side, "he told me he was fine, but…" she shook her head fiercely, "take him to the healing tents."
"No more discussion, North East as fast as we can," Dàilán ordered the Monitor as Chénli broke off from the group and lifted the Clan Head off Dàilán's shoulders, the two Knife Enforcers swiftly carrying the wounded man towards the healing tents only a few zhàng away, then hurried after them.
Ducking into the moving tents - carried along by Formations the same as every other physical object in the camp - full of wounded, Dàilán was slapped in the face by the scents of medicine, illness and blood. Guan Healers moved about at the direction of the Knife Healer that had been assigned to her Enclave, Dàilán spotted the Senior Enforcer and her bodyguard lowering the Clan Head onto a cot. Hurrying over even as the Knife healer did the same, Dàilán pulled the small pot of healing pills she had purchased from the Peddler three days before out.
Looking in the pot she was dismayed to see only a few pills remaining, "I must have taken more of these than I realised," she muttered then rolled one out into her palm.
"Hold please, Heir," ordered the Healer tiredly, "that may not be suitable for your Father's wounds," she was directing medical Essence Techniques and waving an artifact at him. Symbols and images appeared above the cot and the Healer swore, "internal injuries," she tipped his head to the side as she spoke, her dancing hands, glowing with some technique moved up from his chest and he coughed wetly then spewed gobbets of black blood out into a bowl that another healer, swiftly replacing Chénli at the side of the cot, caught with a bowl.
"We have run out of almost everything," stated the Healer angrily, "I cannot treat this sort of injury with what I have on hand. The Grass stuff is mostly drugs and Cultivation boosters rather than medicines. What remains is either too low level or unorthodox to use - not fit for dogs. Where did you get those?" she tilted her chin at the small pot that Dàilán held.
"I bought them from a Knife field agent working as a peddler before everything started - they work very well, I have been using them since we started fighting - the peddler himself said he used them after suffering serious injuries," replied Dàilán quickly, offering the Healer the small pill on her palm.
The Healer's eyebrows went up and she grabbed the pill, Essence light flickering over it. Her eyes widened and she snapped at the assistant healer, "warm water!"
As the requested cup was handed to her, the Healer dropped the pill into the water and a strong, refreshing medicinal scent rose from it that swept through the tent causing an immediate decrease in the sounds of pain and discomfort that rose from the wounded around them.
The Healer blinked then immediately fed a trickle of the now faintly glowing, pinkish liquid into Dàilán's Father's mouth. The Healer ran her hand with the medical techniques over his body again and nodded with satisfaction, "it is effective. Someone needs to stay and feed this," she lifted the cup slightly, "to your Clan Head in the same amount once a kè until it is all gone and monitor him constantly for any changes. We do not have the Healers to spare."
"I will do it," answered Chénli swiftly, "you two are the only Sky levels we have left, you need to be out there - and I know basic medical techniques from training to be the Heir's Guard."
The Head Healer nodded and handed her the cup, "no more than once a kè," she reiterated, "call me at once if there are any notable changes in his condition."
The healer moved beside Dàilán as Chénli nodded in understanding, "Heir, how many more of those pills do you have?"
"Chénli and I both should have a few left," Chénli quickly held out her own fu pot as Dàilán handed over her own, "I am sorry, I did not realise I was wasting them by using them myself."
The Healer shook her head and handed the two young women back two pills each, "never apologise for taking care of yourself - though you should be aware this is very potent medicine."
"We are headed towards the place that they came from," offered Dàilán, "if it helps?"
"The wilderness? There must be a high level Alchemist living out there - perhaps even a Healer Sage," answered the Healer, her face lighting up, "if you can convince him to sell us more medicines…"
"At our current rate of travel, we will be there in about six days," responded Dàilán and the Healer's face fell. After looking around she gently took Dàilán by an elbow and guided her over to a quiet corner of the tent.
"Heir, I need more medicines now. It is by the will of Heaven we have not lost anyone yet, but if we do not get help, we will lose most of the people here within the next couple of days - if there are no further battles. And that includes your father. This medicine is good, but - it is not entirely compatible with his cultivation or not strong enough to heal his injuries completely."
"Someone has to go and ask the… Healer Sage… for help," realised Dàilán as she understood what the Healer was asking.
"You must go," the BloodWitch spoke up from abruptly behind her, "the group cannot spare anyone else - and other than perhaps Enforcer Fuan you are the only one fit and fast enough."
"A Sage is unlikely to be moved by an average Cultivator asking for assistance," pointed out the Knife Healer quietly, "The Heir to a Clan and a Sect, renowned beauty and Cultivation genius may have a chance."
Dàilán grimaced, "What if this… Sage… is hostile?"
"Then you have the best chance of escaping," pointed out the BloodWitch coldly, "I would go, but that would leave the group without any Sky Level cultivator at all - with the Traitor and his forces still out there - even reduced - it would leave the group open to capture or worse."
Dàilán sighed, "I am faster than Chénli and she is also one of our best fighters still functional; she would be more effective here. Can we move the group fast…"
She broke off and held up a hand for silence as her Knife Sect Soul Tablet suddenly glowed and vibrated beneath her robes, her other hand going down to grip it.
---
Without warning she found herself in front of the monstrous páifāng that was the Heart of the Knife Sect. Unlike the other times she had been here the normally quiet white space was lit with a blood-red light and loud rumbles and quivers passed through the Heart.
Looking down at the paving squares of the road she stood on, they were cracked and broken, uneven beneath her feet, the grass away from the road torn up and scorched to reveal bare soil. A deep groaning sound drew her confused and worried eyes back up to the towering páifāng which was glowing with multiple Essence types as it trembled. The carvings on the pillars, beam and tiled roof lunged, snarled and growled with agitation at unseen foes.
A frustrated rage swirled around her and she found herself staggering at the force of it, "Senior? I… we are sorry, we have tried our best - but Grass has thrown all they can spare at us… we are spent. Even if we made it… we would be crushed like an egg against the rock…"
"I am gratified to hear the message got out, Granddaughter," the figure of the Sect Leader was suddenly in front of her smiling wearily, his robes covered in slashes and blood, evidently from fighting. He gestured at her own disheveled, dirty and torn appearance, "I can see you have been in battle as well."
"Sect Leader," Dàilán bowed respectfully, "I regret to report that Grass has destroyed the Guan Clan in their efforts to capture me. I was able to relay the Heart's request for assistance to those Enforcer networks we could reach - but unfortunately our efforts to inform Imperial Authorities or other Orthodox Sects of the Grass Cult's actions have met with failure. Monitor Leng has reported similar issues with other Enforcer's attempts elsewhere in other Empires - at least those we were able to contact. Our own attempts to come to the Knife Sect's aid have proven equally unsuccessful. Those that escaped the Guan Clan's destruction are too few to break through the enemy forces despite our wish for vengeance - even my Father..."
Her voice hitched on the last sentence and she looked up at her Grandfather sadly, "I am sorry, Grandfather. If I had not started investigating all these strange events - maybe the Sect and my Clan would still be safe."
"It is more likely that we would have been struck without warning and not even known how we had died," replied her Grandfather gently, "thanks to what you found, we had warning - and the evil cult was forced to launch their siege before their preparations were fully complete. We have made them pay in blood for every step. As for the lack of response from others," he sighed, shaking his head, "truly, our Sect has gained too many who resent and envy us for things to come to such a pass."
His voice strengthened, "Granddaughter, The Knife Sect is about to fall. I asked the Heart to try and call you here to pass on the Sect's legacy and to warn you to flee. Do not try and reach us. The elders and others that still remain have devised a plan to leave this world on our terms - not as slaves to the Grass."
Dàilán blinked and reached out towards the older Cultivator, "What? You… What do you mean?"
"We will make the Grass pay for every cùn, but we will slowly allow them to enter the Sacred Land of the Sect. At the last, when all the evil ones have entered, lusting for our treasures, the Heart will collapse the Sacred Land, destroying everyone and everything within and without. At that time the Heart will go to you. You must survive, Heir - my Granddaughter," her Grandfather smiled grimly, "hopefully the Evil Cult will be weakened enough by the loss of so many of their forces to give you time to find a refuge and build your strength. If you are fortunate, others will also take advantage of their weakness. If the Knife Sect can, we will send as many of the younger generation out as possible before the end. Look for them."
Dàilán sucked in a breath, "You will have to keep fighting until the end so they do not suspect."
Her Grandfather nodded, "We estimate that a thousand lí around every entry and exit páifāng to the main Sect Lands will be destroyed. You must make sure that you and anyone else you care about is not nearby. We will try to delay and kill as many Grass as long as we can - but we estimate it will be less than two days before we must act."
"I will avenge…" the young heiress began fiercely, but her Grandfather held up a hand, "my Lán'er - you will be Sect Leader when the Heart comes to you, so it will be your decision what you choose to do with our legacy, but if you will listen to an old man's advice - if it is a choice between life and vengeance - I would hope you choose to live."
"Truth is a knife that cuts both ways, Grandfather," replied Dàilán, repeating the first part of the Sect's motto, "I will find a way to do both."
"Ha!" the old man laughed proudly, "I am assured. You are truly a daughter to be proud of - Xiùyīng, my daughter, you win the argument - and I am glad of it. You and that boy raised a fine daughter."
He smiled, then his figure wavered and turned transparent for a moment, before resuming solidity, "there is little time left - it is only because of your unique connection to the Heart that I was able to communicate with you, Granddaughter. You will have to pass on the order to the rest. I hereby officially ordain you Sect Leader and order the Heart to you, Granddaughter, to pass to your hands on my death. This has already been witnessed and agreed on by the Elders."
Dàilán's eyes blurred and she leapt to hug her Grandfather, "promise me - if you find any other way… but I accept."
Her Grandfather hugged her back, "With my last breath, if I must. Either way, you must get as far away from the Sect as possible, just in case." He leaned back and put on a fierce face as his image turned illusionary and Dàilán's arms passed through him, "I go now to dispense some Justice. Live well, my Grandaughter."
---
Dàilán found herself back in the Healer's Tent with one hand still raised for silence, the other still wrapped around her soul tablet and the Bloodwitch, Head Healer looking curiously at her, their expressions turning alarmed as she staggered, both Cultivators moving to steady her, "Heir? Are you injured?" questioned the Healer, her hands already lighting with Essence of diagnostic techniques.
"No…" Dàilán waved the healer off as she regained her balance and released her soul tablet, turning to the BloodWitch, "privacy Formation as strong as you can make it." The Senior Enforcer's eyes narrowed but complied and as extra formations bounced up around the three of them, the young heiress sucked in a breath, "The Heart of the Sect pulled me in - The Sect Leader was able to pass Orders to me."
The BloodWitch straightened and Dàilán squeezed her eyes shut, "The Sect is on the verge of falling. They will collapse the Sacred Land rather than let Grass capture it. They will try to draw as many Grass in as possible in the process. The Order is for Knife members outside the siege to evacuate and go to ground."
"Collapse…" the BloodWitch's eyes bulged and her breath left her as if she had been hit with a heavy blow.
"We must leave the areas around the páifāng's," recited Dàilán, "to avoid being caught in the destruction. We have less than two days. Grandfather hopes that their sacrifice will deal a heavy enough blow to Grass that…"
"....they will not have the resources to finish cleaning up any Knives who manage to evacuate," finished the BloodWitch as the young heiress sat weakly on the side of a nearby cot and put her head in her hands, "they might be able to make a few small breakouts if the Grass are too busy thinking they are about to win. It is… it might work. But most of... the Sect... will have to stay."
"That would make you Sect Leader then," pointed out the Healer matter-of-factly, "and given you likely lead the largest group of Knives we know of outside the siege, I suppose we should start acting to preserve the remainder of the Sect, rather than trying to be heroes," she shot a firm look at the Bloodwitch who shrunk slightly under her gaze, then nodded in acceptance a slight colour in her cheeks, "Orders, Leader?"
"Our current situation has not changed," said Dàilán eventually, slowly dropping her hands away from her face, "we still need the medicine. Senior - if you can discreetly explain the situation to Monitor Leng and the others that should know - we should speed up our escape towards Fusou. I will..."
"You will take a shi of rest," interrupted the Healer, "the pills you brought will give the wounded the time. You can set off tonight - if you collapse from exhaustion on the way to find the Sage it will do no one any good."
Opening her mouth to argue, she was stopped by the BloodWitch bowing and heading for the exit of the tent and the Healer's hand firmly pushing her down onto the cot.
Then, darkness.
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WheeledWriter
WheeledWriter This has been a bigger chapter than I had initally conceived. Again, these events have been part of the plot I planned from the begining, so hopefully it doesn't seemed rushed or forced - and I hope the characters decisions seem logical to the reader.
I had hoped to get further along than this, but hopefully Lan'er will get to the Mountain by her next chapter - maybe.
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