Luxire Worse
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Dao of Fuck Off Chapter 13: Frosty Friendliness
🕑 Added 2024-09-06 13:00:10 +0000 UTCNobility, I’d heard, sometimes mused at why winter was associated with death. Some argued that it was due to blind eyes not being able to see the vibrant beauty in the frost, or the subtle elegance of the winter predator.
Some insisted that the peasants only cared about their own food crops, and having harvested them in autumn, they counted the fields as ‘dead’ until planting season.
But though I’d only spent eight years as a commoner before beginning my path as an immortal, I knew full well why winter was associated with death more than the other seasons. And why, as I approached the latest island village, there was no bustle or cheer.
In the winter, people just died. For reasons that most simply couldn’t make sense of beyond the seasonal spirits being malicious.
In summer, when a man died of heat, it made sense. In the spring, a man choking to death was understandable. In the autumn, deaths by beast and accident were expected and somewhat manageable.
But a beloved elder, resting next to the fire and wrapped in what blankets the town had in spare, simply dying of nothing. That didn’t make sense. Not in the same way. Not unless you concluded that the spirit of the chill snuck in with his breath and killed him for no reason.
“You arrive at a poor time, traveller.” a particularly gruff man spoke up as I walked the somber path in. “We’ve no food nor hospitality to spare for an outlander.”
I put on a small smile, not being one to trample another honest man’s feelings. “I understand. My parents were both taken around this time. May I pay respects to the lost?”
He seemed torn between a huff and a sigh before nodding. “Don’t expect any gratitude, but sure. I won’t keep a priest from his job.”
I bowed in thanks and made my way to the memorial where I lit a stick of incense and offered a prayer to the dead I’d never met. And another to the spirits that would be blamed, asking them to understand and forgive the mortal anger.
“Please, sir priest. If you can hear me, please help my family.” a distinctly ephemeral voice begged after a moment. “They don’t have enough food for the winter. Not after that demon demanded tribute. I don’t want them to follow me so soon.”
I smiled gently at the ghost. “I will do what I can to protect your village this season. Rest easy in Yama’s care, and may your next life reward you richly for your duty done well.”
“Who are you talking to?” a small voice behind me asked, startling the ghost.
“Tiyu! Can you hear me too?”
I gestured for the girl to kneel beside me. “I’m speaking with the departed. He has asked me to take care of you this winter.”
“Grampa? He’s still here?” she asked excitedly.
“Tiyu! Little Tiyu!” the old ghost tried to hug her.
“He is, yes. But he cannot stay too long. So if there’s anything you need to tell him, tell him well.”
“I miss you grampa!” she sniffled after a moment. “Mommy’s worried about what will happen without you. Uncle’s eye does the lying thing when he says we’ll be okay. And Suya’s shivering so hard at night I’m worried.”
She turned to me and her emotions cracked. “Why can’t he come back! Why does he have to go!” she screamed as she beat on my chest like any petulant child losing a pillar of stability. “Make him come back! Tell him!”
I let her tantrum for a moment, ignoring the way the ghost was pleading with me to forgive her, before I caught her losing balance and pulled her into a hug to cry it out.
“If I had the sort of authority to tell him to come back and take care of you himself, I would.” I finally said as she was mostly done. “I know I’m not going to be able to do any of what he could, and I know I’m a stranger here. But he asked politely, and I will help out as well as I can.”
“Why can’t he come back?” she demanded through more sniffles.
“Because humans aren’t made to last forever. Your hearts, your minds, bodies, souls. They just aren’t made to last like we’d like them to. So he has to go to Yama now, where they can take care of his soul and his mind while they find him a new body.”
“But mommy says Yama chews on people for wasting food?”
“Well, yes.” I admitted. “Yama is charged with giving out punishments that you skip in life, including being chewed on for wasting food. But you know how your mommy has to punish you when you’re naughty, but she still loves you with all her heart?”
The girl nodded.
“Yama is a lot like her. The spirits there are very stern and the punishments make people’s skin crawl just to describe them, but they give the punishments because they help the soul. And then they arrange a new life so that you can have a chance to do better.”
“Really?” she asked, awestruck that the big scary punishers weren’t bad guys.
“Really.” I nodded. “I’ve even spoken with some of the spirits that work there. For all their job is frequently terrifying, they do it because Heaven cares for the mortals under its rule and tries to help you grow, even between lives.”
“So grampa will be okay?”
“He probably won’t like the experience, but I promise the both of you, he will be just fine in Yama’s care.”
One of Yama’s collectors revealed itself to me and the ghost at one end of the memorial. “And he’s got the right of it, Hiroto. You may not know it, but this punk is one of the most famous spirits born in the last century.”
The dead old man understandably startled at the bull demon suddenly lounging next to his memorial shrine. “Have you come to take me?”
“If you’re ready to go. You’ve got the rest of the day before I’ve got the obligation. I’m just letting you know that Guang here isn’t just lying for the kid’s comfort. He’s actually checked with the Yama Kings about what we do.”
“Why would I trust a demon?”
“Because I work for Yama?” the collector answered like it was obvious. “I’m sure as shit not strong enough to get away with lying to someone in front of Guang Qu Mo Shi.”
“Who Purified One Hundred Mountains?”
I shot the collector a polite pleading look while I kept comforting the girl.
“Told you he was famous. He does insist that it was only fourty-three mountains, though.”
“Tiyu!” a stern voice rang out. “Get off that mainlander!”
I let the child startle back to kneeling to the shrine and turned myself back to the departed, who was prostrating himself again and begging for my assistance. “I will do what I can to assist your village through the winter. Rest easy in Yama’s care, beloved elder.”
“Tch,” the woman behind me audibly sneered. “Acting like you’re someone special won’t work on us, outlander.”
I smiled as the spirit apologized for his daughter’s manners and then stood, dusting my knees. “Fortunately, good miss, I don’t need you to fall for any charlatan trickery. I understand that you cannot afford any gratitude, so I will not invite any. Instead, can I ask you to lighten my pack a little?”
“What’s your play here?”
“No play. A serpent attacked the ship that brought me here and I was granted a portion of the meat for my duties aboard, but there’s no way I’ll be able to eat or preserve it all myself before it spoils. So could I impose on you to take some of it off my hands? I’ll even include a spice pouch for the trouble.”
She glared at me as I pulled a wrapped cut of my kill out of my bag. “You expect me to believe that warriors cared enough about your prayers to give you a cut of their kill? Do you take me for an idiot?”
“Oh, not my duties as a priest.” I laughed as though I wasn’t expecting the hostility. “I’m also a passing hand as a cook. Most warriors couldn’t boil rice to save their lives, so I get on well with most of them.”
She tch’d again, but her eyes didn’t leave the family-sized portion of meat in my hands.
“Please.” I offered it again. “I meant to trade it for supplies, but I’m not crass enough to ask for goods from a mourning village. It will just go to waste with me.”
My ploy was obvious in her eyes. A ‘priest’ of some indeterminate faith seeing those in need and phrasing charity as them doing me a favor was a nearly universal tactic for saving good people the Face cost of accepting charity. But as a commoner, playing Face games was distasteful, especially when someone was ignoring insults.
But she couldn’t reasonably refuse either, from the sound of things.
“Come talk to my brother.” she finally sighed. “If you want to ‘help’, he’s the one who knows what we need and can afford.”
I followed her and the girl to the town hall where most of the town was huddled up. The working men weren’t present, as there were tasks to be done, but the children and foragers had very little to do other than preserve energy in the winter, especially when mourning.
The local sentiment about strangers was apparent in their eyes. Not outright hostility like I’d encountered on a few islands so far, but suspicion and distrust. Like a few bad merchants or brigands had burned them, but not completely driven them to xenophobia.
“Hey, Mito.” Tuyi’s mother snapped. “The priest says he wants to help.”
A strained looking young man looked up at me from the corner, the desire to hope flickering in his eyes briefly before he quashed it. “You’ve been told we cannot repay you. Why waste your time?” he asked quietly enough that others couldn’t hear him.
“Call it a bad habit.” I shrugged. “I was born in a farming village and got lucky, so it pains me a little to see others without the fortunes they’re due.”
“What help do you think you could even give us?”
“I’ve food well in excess of what I can consume that you can relieve me of the burden of letting it go to waste. If you’ve any sick, I’ve learned some basic medicinal arts. I can offer a prayer to your fields’ spirits that they give you their blessing in your next crop.” I listed off my ‘usual’ services, then grinned. “And Hiroto mentioned a demon when I paid my respects. I’m charged with dealing with those wherever I find them.”
The shock in both adults’ eyes told me that they quite suddenly believed I was at least partially the real deal.
“You’re an exorcist, then?” Mito whispered. “You can fight the demon off?”
“I am.” I nodded. “On principle I will not promise I can win, but I can fight them.”
“Please!” he hissed. “She’s taken all our stores for winter as her tribute this year, and then cursed us to a harsh season. We won’t survive like this!”
“Breathe, my friend.” I answered him calmly. “Start from the beginning. How long have you been living under the demon’s shadow?”
At my persistent coaxing, he regaled me with how the demon had taken up residence fourteen years prior and started calling itself the shegong of the island. For the first few years, the relationship was one of simple terror and placation, but things had started to stabilize. Then, two years before my arrival, she had made a demand that they procure some jade.
They’d managed, and she repeated the demand this year. Their crop surplus wasn’t sufficient to get enough to satisfy her, so she’d decided to take their reserves until they could provide the jade.
When Hiroto had tried to explain that they needed the food to survive to get the jade for her, she’d grown irritable and turned the weather chill unnaturally fast while ringing a silver bell.
That was a week ago, and the chill had already claimed Hiroto. Mito had been doing his best to assuage the fears of the village, but the loss of his father made that difficult on several fronts.
“Okay. It sounds like I can handle this problem for you.” I finally announced as he finished his story. “From the sound of it, you’ve been dealing with someone who relies on stolen authority to browbeat others. My best method for fighting that is to reinforce you under my own authority. So, would anyone like some Spined Serpent stew?”
“What?”
“I told you I have a surplus of food, yes? I’d love the honor of feeding your village tonight to start destabilizing your demon problem.” I answered, knowing full well that neither of the people I was speaking to could understand even if I explained.
“I mean, I have no room to deny your charity, but will it actually help you fight the demon to feed us?”
“Absolutely!” I smiled like a conman. “Spiritual authority arts are subtle things. Assuaging your fear and hunger will weaken her hold on you, and on the island. So come, call back the workmen for the night and may I borrow three large stewpots?”
“‘t’s more hope than I had an hour ago.” the woman shrugged and stood. “Yuki! Hime! Where are your good pots? The outlander is an exorcist.”
I had to hold in a cackle as the other women’s looks of incredulity switched instantly to cooperative scrambling at the last word.
“What is your name, outlander?” Mito finally asked, formally breaking his decree that nobody was to get friendly with outsiders.
“I’m called Guang. No attachments of note.”
He chuckled. “Being called Guang and being an exorcist must be a bit frustrating with the mountain-cleanser having such a large reputation.”
“Only when people expect me to simply tell demons to get out and have them listen.” I chuckled. “Though it is fun to assuage false fears by just hopping around the ‘afflicted’ area chanting ‘get out’.”
“So that is a thing you have to deal with too? I’ve always wondered.”
“Oh yeah. Usually over some hygiene mistake causing people to fall ill and people concluding that it’s the doing of a spirit. So I teach the good practices as a cleansing ritual and do a perfunctory cleansing, and then a performative one to calm everyone’s nerves.”
“And the spirits don’t mind the trickery?”
“Most of the spirits involved actually find it great fun. When men are tricking themselves into ill health, tricking them into good health is a wonderful inversion of their frustrations.”
“Ah, like raising children!” he laughed in approximate comprehension. “I can see how they enjoy that aspect.”
The mildly uneasy, but now hopeful, silence hung between us for a long moment before the women that had dashed off returned with three proper cooking cauldrons.
“Excellent! Would anyone like to help prepare the meat and tubers while I bless the pots?” I invited them to feel less indebted by my indulgence. Much like the Face matters, honest women were loathe to sit back and allow someone else cook for them.
Predictably, they and the other four women present volunteered, and I handed out cuts of serpent and bundles of vegetables for them to dice and subtly inspect for poisons. Technically an insult, but frankly just good sense in a world with demons and demonic spirits seeking to destroy the bonds of society and drag everyone into barbarity and death. So I pretended not to notice.
Meanwhile, I checked each of the pots for obvious health hazards, and thankfully found none. Then I went back over them, murmuring an invitation to outperform their stations and volunteering Wuhen’s aid in filing for clearance to make the improvements permanent, which each of the cauldrons’ spirit collectives were eager for, on top of an enheartening desire to return the care the mortals had given to the old pots.
Not everything aged enough that it’s constituent spirits could start melding into a single identity, but it always warmed my heart when such heirlooms loved their owners back.
The water that was brought in was amused to have me offer the freedom to show off its cooking skills, and the wood and fire spirits involved in heating it were similarly agreeable, though one of the fire spirits griped that it wouldn’t have cause to request attending me under my Duanzhou title like it had hoped on hearing that I’d arrived.
“Can you really talk to the spirits?” a child asked, staring up at me like children tend to.
“Yes. I’ve studied long and hard to be allowed to hear them.”
“Can you ask the cold to stop? It doesn’t listen to me.”
I smiled softly and tousled his hair. “I can ask it why it’s being so harsh already. If it feels like answering me, I can try to fix things so that it can relax. How’s that?”
“Why not just ask it to stop?”
“Do you like picking berries?”
“Yeah! They’re tasty and bitter, but I stained my shirt and mommy got angry at me for eating too many.”
“Well, if I saw you picking berries and I asked you to stop, would that make you want to stop?”
“No...” he looked down guiltily like he’d gotten in trouble for it more than once.
“The cold likes being cold in the same way you like picking and eating berries. If I just ask it to stop, it’ll kick its feet and say okay, and then go right back to it once I look away.” I explained to him as well as the five parents keeping a keen ear on the conversation. “If I ask it why it’s being so cold, I can figure out what to do to give it something else to do. Like maybe running along the waves to see who can make the longest frost line.”
“Oh! Like when mommy tells Tsuki to go climb a tree and leave me alone!”
“Exactly!” I ruffled his hair again. “Now, weren’t you helping your mom prepare those spoons?”
He yelped and ran back, to the smothered mirth of his mom.
“Well, that proves you aren’t the Fang’s Guang, at least!” Mito laughed as he came and sat down next to me as I and the women watched the pots boil. “No cultivator could be half that good with kids, from what I hear.”
“It does take a patience that few possess.” I agreed easily. “One I have an unfair advantage in, being a traveller.”
“Oh?”
“Yeah, when I get tired of a kid, I can just leave.” The parents in the room each giggled at the casual way I voiced the matter. “But yeah, the cultivators I’ve met are particularly short of that particular patience.”
“You don’t say. Met any from the Fang?”
I raised an eyebrow at him. “Why?”
“Wanted to know if they got upset at your name.” he chuckled.
“Nah. He wasn’t famous yet when I met them.” I waved it off. “Though I’d be lying if I said that the mountains incident wasn’t part of why I’m out this way.”
“Did that really happen? Did he really walk through two demonic sects in one day?” a young woman blurted out.
“If he did, I don’t know how. There was only one demonic sect in the area to walk through.” I chuckled. “Though from what I heard, he did, in fact, make his way through their entire mountain range with the blood dragon hot on his heels. And there was another sect that was only unorthodox that supposedly fell the same day.”
“And the Fang’s reformation?”
“I was already out of the area when I started hearing about that.” I shook my head. “Though if their Guang was as great as I’ve heard, I don’t really have any reason to expect the worst elements of the sect to have fared well.”
I resisted the urge to shoot Wuhen a dirty look as he cackled at my choice of lie. It wasn’t like anyone else could hear him.
“Shame that you’re not him.” one of the older women piped up after a moment of quiet. “I could go for seeing a heavy beatdown on that green haired bitch.”
“Keep talking like that, and you might get to see one anyway.” I chuckled. “The less people fear her, the weaker she’s likely to become.”
She and the people who’d gasped at her comment all stared at me with various degrees of calculation in their eyes.
“I’m a fair hand at combat. But even if I knew I outclassed a foe, I’d still make preparations to improve my chances. After all, they might be doing the same.”
“Took you for more ‘honorable’ than that.” she grinned. “Glad to hear you kept your wits after your temple training.”
I chuckled with her before adding “I’ve yet to find a more earnest manner of respecting a foe than assuming he is intelligent enough to find a way to kick my ass. The posturing of honor is just insulting my enemies.”
“And suddenly I’m glad you’re not the cultivator.” an exhausted workman laughed from the table he’d collapsed at. “You, I can trust to actually take this seriously.”
“Naturally!” I laughed. “It’s one of my favorite duties!”
That did the trick of getting the mirth rolling as the workmen collectively chuckled and one busted a gut laughing from suppressed stress. Yama’s collector and Hiroto stood at the doorway for a minute -listening to his son urge everyone to remember him fondly- before the man’s face fell into peaceful confidence and he departed with the bull demon.
I wove my Cheering aura through the stew with the aid of the pots and spent the energy to replenish the soup directly instead of asking the food to do that for me.
I was, as usual, very careful not to have the soup refill while mortal eyes were on it, but that wasn’t quite enough to prevent the eldest of the women from noticing that the level wasn’t going down. When they shot me an awed look, I just raised a shushing finger to my smirk and enjoyed as they redoubled their enthusiasm to properly celebrate their departed leader.
As the meal wound down, with hope rekindled in the people’s eyes and smiles on their faces, I politely asked to take what was left of the soup to their fields, as an offering to the spirits. A few pragmatic worries were voiced, but the same woman who’d quipped about wanting to see a beatdown whacked one of them upside the head and reminded them that I’d provided everything but the water and the pots.
Still, I got their blessing to make the offering on their behalf, which was the important part. Without it, their emotional investment in the meal would be lost in the transfer.
Several of them came with me to make the offering and were amazed at the way the soup vanished from the pots like invisible people were scooping bowls out. That silenced the last of the doubts about my validity and inspired earnest prayers of gratitude from those present.
Then, bidding them all a good night so that I could handle the other side of the dynamic, I took a walk out past their sentry’s gaze and was greeted by a clamoring of spirits eager to tell me what the mortals didn’t know on each front.
Chiefly, that the mortals were mistaken about the threat they were under. The false shegong wasn’t a demon. She was a full-blown demonic spirit.
The key difference being that demons were a twisted, evil-inclined race of mortals that weren’t actually under Heaven’s authority, nor technically the Earth’s. Demonic spirits, meanwhile, were immortal spirits that could actually produce and semi-safely use the destructive demonic qi.
Heaven’s policies regarding demonic qi meant that there was almost nothing that could be done against demonic spirits on their end, and after cultivators figured out how to fight demonic qi (however poorly), most demonic spirits kept relatively low profiles to avoid just being stabbed. Said low profiles involved, chiefly, constraining their qi unless they were fighting.
Which is a really longwinded way of articulating that, for all she was absolutely just stealing Bai Fa Nushi’s authority with the bell and trying to forcibly usurp the island shegong, there was no actual way of knowing if she was weak and relying on those methods or strong enough that she was playing nice by doing so.
Well, no way to tell before I closed to melee.
No pressure.
The rest of the details that the spirits could provide were largely superfluous. She’d interacted with most of the local courts to demand that they bow before her, even if their court wasn’t subject to the authority of a shegong. Not being willing to anger a demon spirit, they’d all bowed and slyly neglected to mention the icons of authority that she needed to hold to compel them.
So other than the Frost spirits, who chafed at being told to freeze the mortals to death instead of doing it freely, every scrap of authority she had was performative and backed only by their fear of her.
In fact, the only problem I saw with just killing her to restore balance was that the original shegong was dead, having refused to hand over the position to the intruder. Normally this would have had the bureaucracy notice and start arranging things to resolve it - as there was no nepotism protecting her - but the intruder had been fulfilling the station well enough that the discrepancies hadn’t actually been severe enough to draw the higher-up’s attention.
That could mean a couple of things regarding the fight itself - maybe she was an old spirit who’d had time to work out how the bureaucracy worked, maybe she just threatened her new victims into doing it all properly, maybe she just loved the act of working with reports - but in replacing her, that meant a headache to get a reassignment evaluation started.
Or, possibly, just forcing her to bow to Heavenly Mandate that would lock her in the position, complete with punishments for interacting directly with mortals and getting caught killing them for reasons divorced from the position.
Or just saying ‘fuck it’, killing her, and letting the bureaucrats handle the mess in their own agonizingly slow way. That would be traditional here. Complete with looting.
I realized that the lesser spirits had fallen silent while I mused, apprehension floating in the air. “Wuhen, how eager are you to deal with reporting a well-usurped position?” I broke the silence.
“With your methods, Moshui, I’m enthusiastic to tackle those forms.”
“Good. I expect you’ll find the administrators hesitant to hear you. So we’ll start with reporting ‘Shegong Anying Chang Chunteng’ abusing her position to extort mortals with a demonic spirit in proximity.”
Several of the bolder spirits fidgeted, but it was a frost spirit that griped “She isn’t even the shegong! How will reporting her do anything?”
“Because she isn’t the shegong.” I answered flippantly as though that explained anything. “Can you imagine the panic when the report gets ignored and filed in the records and there’s no shegong Anying Chang Chunteng in this area?”
Their little frozen face gawked at me, alongside dozens of others.
“Why would it be ignored?”
“It’s a bureaucracy.” I sighed. “There’s always something more pressing, even when there isn’t. That’s why the art of filing is among my greatest techniques despite not being useful for anything else.”
“Anything else, Moshui?”
“Request a perfunctory evaluation of lingering demonic qi. That’ll give the eventual realization that a demonic spirit took over the island some early weight.”
“I’ll report back once those are filed.” he bowed and swirled out of sight, leaving me to face the terrified lesser spirits.
“So, who wants to tweak a demon’s nose with me?”
Their fear stumbled on them being baffled.
“Because the way I see things, our friends of the Frost court are being coerced against their duties and good sense, which is a shame. But if I heard the order they were given correctly, the demon forgot to compel them to prioritize the task of freezing the mortals. So who wants to be insufferably specific with how the frost forms on them every night to keep our friends busy?”
Several of the tree and soil spirits turned to the gawking frost spirits, asking with their faces if that would even work. Then the frost spirits started busting up laughing at how stupid the safe disobedience option was and paired off with the others, promising to spread the word.
I then turned back toward the mortal village to mingle until the paperwork or the demon spirit got back to me.
---
“So! You’ve already given up on giving yourselves funeral rites I see!”
The voice ringing through the town was impressive in its projection of authority despite being a pitch I would probably continue to recognize as ‘karen’ as long as I enjoyed mental continuity with myself.
I put down the axe I was chopping firewood with and joined the mildly fearful procession to where my designated victim was making a spectacle.
“Pardon my ignorance, lady shegong.” I could pick up Mito’s voice despite the distance. “But who are we supposed to be mourning?”
The demon’s confusion was palpable in the silence, and Mito chose to continue. “My father died two and a half weeks ago, but everyone else is accounted for and in good health.”
“What do you mean you’ve been defying my order to die to the frost?” she hissed menacingly.
The townspeople all froze in fear, and the ones I could see turned to me as if to beg me to deny that she’d actually aimed to have them dying one after another.
Not feeling like lying to them, I smiled and shrugged like I hadn’t been actively standing between them and death since I arrived.
“I- I knew of no such order.” Mito gulped. “I took my father’s death and the easing of the chill to mean you were satisfied at starving us”
I heard the crunch of dirt as she grabbed him, likely by the throat, and snarled “Who is guarding you? I’ll make your death quick if you surrender him.”
“I swear! I didn’t know the priest was doing anything but feeding us and blessing the fields!” he choked out, confirming the iconic grip of tyranny. “He didn’t say anything about a death curse!”
“Where is he?” she demanded, sending the assembling town cowering.
“Coming!” I called out in the same tone I used when I was handy for a task over the past weeks. The flippancy of it was probably lost in the mortals’ fear, but it was important to me on a personal level.
Arriving in the square, I found a ring of cowering townsmen at the border of the clearing and Mito being held aloft by his throat by a blue-skinned woman with seaweed-green hair and an almost convincing imperious stature. All of whom were gawking in some measure that I’d just show up without any ado.
“You were looking for me?” I smiled at the disguised demonic spirit.
She scowled at me and almost hid her reflexive recoiling as she realized that I wasn’t a priest.
“What is a priest doing on my island?” she demanded, coming to the snap decision that it was to her benefit to keep the mortals in the dark.
“I say it’s a pilgrimage, but I’m really just enjoying the freedom of being out of contact with the folks who trained me.” I answered honestly. “Seriously, it was like I had mountains of work to do back there.”
Not appreciating my flippancy, she snarled. “There are hundreds of islands. Why here?”
“No particular reason. My last ride stopped here to trade a bit at the port, and I hopped off to see the place. Found these folks mourning an honorable elder and offered my aid through the winter.”
“You’ve tampered with my chilling curse, then?” She started growing in an attempt to intimidate me. dropping Mito, who sensibly started running immediately.
“Yup! You really need to work on your curse work. Amateur talisman crafters could disrupt orders like yours with a bit of thought.”
Affront rippled through her illusion of mortality like my words were pebbles into a pond. “You insolent worm!” she roared, pulling out the Shuangjiang Zhi Zhong. “Freeze Solid!”
I grinned maliciously as the frost spirits in the area descended on me with the compulsion of the chiming of the small bell’s authority. Then I whispered “Hey guys, skin-out counts if you want to piss her off.”
The tinkling cackle of the spirits told me I was winning this exchange. Then I felt an Air spirit slide into my lungs with an ethereal whisper of “Just in case.”
Technically an overstepping of it’s freedoms, but I wasn’t going to complain. Nobody was forbidden from doing things until the demonic qi started flowing.
And only a few moments later I was encased entirely and still grinning as she glared at me.
“Behold! Your savior! Powerless before my might!” I could hear her through the ice easily. “Nothing but a mortal putting up a front to leech off what little food you hid from me!”
“That’s not true!” I made out Tuyi’s voice as the demon rounded on her.
“Let the brat speak.” She demanded, presumably of the girl’s mother.
“Mister Guang never took our food! He gave us his! He asked the cold to leave us alone! He said he’d save us!”
“And you’re stupid enough to believe him? When your precious ‘mister Guang’ is frozen soli-” The demoness froze as she realized the most important detail the child had given her. “What did you say his name was?”
“He’s mister Guang! And he’s gonna beat you up!” I actually felt the child’s faith in me surge into me. She didn’t care that I’d repeatedly insisted that I was a different Guang. She just knew, deep in her little heart, that I was going to save her.
“Yeah!” Another kid called out with equal fervor. “He’s gonna beat you up!”
I waited another breath while the disorientation settled into the demon that mere children would hide behind a popsicle instead of cower, and then I twisted my neck.
The crack through the ice, which was barely denser than natural ice, silenced the town square for a long second before one of the ladies who’d caught the stew pots refilling threw away her fear too and cheered “Yeah! One light’s as good as another! Guang’s gonna kick your blue ass!”
The crowd - that I’d spent the last week seeding the idea that ballsiness weakened the demon to - started clamoring loud enough to drown the cracking of the ice out as I stepped forward.
“No.” she flinched as I approached. “I will not be exorcized like this!”
“Is that really your choice?” I asked calmly. “Or is it mine?”
She lunged, hands turning to long, piercing claws that I dodged with ease before slamming my fist into her throat.
I watched her recoil from the hit and noticed small ways that her posture shifting indicated that she was genuinely just bad at fighting, contradicting the ways that she regained her footing and held her shoulders in a textbook guard. Things that many people knew to look for all screamed that I was outclassed as she glared at me, but having grown up fighting more or less for my life, the things I knew to watch for made me laugh as I approached her again.
“Stolen position. Stolen frost power. Stolen fighting stance. Did you really think you’d make it further in life by stealing the lives of mortals?”
“What do you know!” she howled and threw another technically intimidating, but functionally useless jab at me.
I chose to insult her by just slapping her face instead of retaliating properly. “I know how to fight. I know how to rally support. I know how to stand under my own power. What more do you think I need to know?”
Instead of rising to my verbal bait, she just screamed and threw a flurry of strikes at me, getting progressively angrier with each miss.
“Do you think I don’t understand what it’s like to destroy everything I try to hold?” I asked after another moment. “That your natural demonic qi making you a pariah here justifies your behavior?”
“What?” she froze mid-strike, which I couldn’t resist the temptation to flick her in the forehead over.
“Do you think that the most violent new immortal of the past millenia honestly doesn’t understand how difficult it is to just not destroy things?” I rephrased, lacing my words with the Dao intent of my experience on the matter.
“How? You’re not a demon.”
“Do the corpses care?”
She stared at me, fear stacking upon fear as the threat of death was usurped by the fear of being understood.
“Do you know why so many demonic spirits kneel before heaven?”
“Because- becau-” she stumbled over her thoughts.
“Because they fear drawing the attention of cultivators.” I cut off her muttering. “Because they’ve been in this exact position, a supposed mortal holding the power to destroy them, and all the ploys and plans to secure themselves independently of anyone else suddenly look as stupid as yours do right now.
“There’s no grand enlightenment like they might have told you. There’s no peace. There’s just terror driving them to grovel and let their anarchistic essence be sealed in exchange for safety from men like me.”
She staggered, thoughts refusing to let her emulate whatever authority she’d copied for so long. “Why are you telling me this?”
“Because I like to leave people a choice before I kill them.” I loomed despite her larger form. “You have skills the bureaucracy can use if you give up on being your corruptive natural self. My attendant, Wuhen, even tells me that there’s a position open that they’d fit you right into if you kneel and let them chain you. Or, if you’re too prideful to bow to fear, I can kill you for your reckless misstep of terrorizing the mortals.”
She froze under the realization that, of all her crimes, it was fucking with mortals that got her caught.
“I yield.” She cracked after another moment, knees quaking and fists trembling. “I don’t want to die. Not to Guang Qu Mo Shi.”
“Excellent” a new voice rang out and an administrator garbed in the colors of Ink, of all things, stepped forward. “If you’ll stamp your real name here, I’d be happy to get you out of here and into the system properly. We didn’t lie about that position you’re perfect for.”
She balked, looking between the administrator and my now-smirking face. “It’s that easy?”
“Only around Guang Moshui. He’s an inspiration to all of us in the Ink court.”
“I like efficiency.” I shrugged as I continued walking my pulse back to civility. “It means I have to break fewer things to get what I want.”
The paper of the formal surrender declaration had to shift to full mortal view because of a technicality about how the false shegong had made physical contact with one of them, so the townsfolk behind me gasped as she signed her freedom over to Heaven in exchange for safety from me.
Then she took the administrator’s hand and stepped away with a backwards glance at me.
“Don’t worry, it’s probably worth it!” I laughed and turned back to the townsfolk.
Who, of course, immediately prostrated themselves before me now that they knew I was actually the famous Guang-of-no-family.
So I ignored them and went back to where I’d left half a stack of wood to finish chopping.
---
I sat on the throne of the island’s Earth court and reviewed the paperwork for the day, quieting the griping that I really should have seen this coming.
It was a strictly temporary arrangement while the administrators figured out where they could pull a competent replacement shegong from, but someone had to keep the paperwork flowing, and while I wasn’t an Earth spirit, I was good at paperwork.
So they asked me to fill in for the three weeks they promised they’d have a proper replacement lined up in.
The pay was absolutely worth it, though. Apparently my sporadic bursts of efficiency had been enough of a headache for the Heavenly administrators that they actually wanted to fashion an entirely new Court so that my appearances in their paperwork had established precedent avenues and it wasn’t a tri-annual event that my signature would be spotted and their functionaries would lose their shit at being caught up in my antics.
Were I a mortal, they’d just put up with it until I died, however long that took. As I wasn’t, someone got things rolling back when I was a General, and everyone I’d interacted with since was on board.
The detail that I was explicitly not a servant of Heaven actually made it easier to file for the creation of a new court, because their systems dealt with Earthly courts as entities that weren’t technically subservient, but understood the benefits of playing along. Restrictions on classes of spirits were done on a by-court basis, so I and Wuhen would just be without those restrictions while able to better interface with their systems instead of just pulling my hijinks at every turn.
And I’d gone over all the paperwork to make sure there wasn’t a trap I’d chafe at. To the point of making more than one Administrator fray to the point of tears as I insisted on doing so and spent days going through it. My favorite part was that imposing restrictions required the head of the court -me- to agree that the restrictions were fair and valid.
I blinked as I reached the end of the island’s paperwork for the day and chuckled. Most of it was just reports on natural phenomena being carried out properly. Much of the rest was duplicate and triplicate of calls for other courts to do their job that needed filed with their duplicate and triplicate reports of doing it.
The few actual work pieces of paperwork were just making bids for things like ‘where should the rain/snow go for the next week’ and ‘how hard should the wind blow in these areas’.
Little things that, not being the purview of the court, had to be negotiated with the other courts with approval of the respective administrators to ensure nobody was invoking too much chaos.
I stretched with a chuckle. I’d tried my hand at worldbuilding exercises many times just for the fun of it, but I actually doubted that I could have ever detailed how bloody tedious the celestial bureaucracy was.
I’d have to see if I could concoct something even more tedious some day. Just to say I did.
“Ah! Moshui!” Wuhen perked up as he walked in. “Good news! The replacement will be available in just another week, and we got credit for the arrangement that frees him up!”
“Wonderful! Anyone I know?”
“No, I don’t think we interacted with him. We did stop by his current assigned island though.”
“Good! Then his detractors can’t argue that I arranged for his installation over his manners.”
“Indeed. All I really did was point out that his neighbor had been clamoring for a chance to prove herself, and that having to peacefully transfer holdings between them would prime the new shegong for the difficulties of taking this court.”
“Still, credit is credit.” I chuckled at his aptitude with common sense arrangements. It really was too rare a skill, I’d found.
And being credited with setting up other rulers who’d hopefully do a passable job made it easier for the Administrators to argue that I was due recognition despite not bowing. Something typically reserved for disruptive belligerents, so my peaceful disruptions needed a bit more support behind them to make the case for the new court.
“How’d the paperwork for the pots go?”
“It got accepted! The evaluation concluded that despite it being your work, the mortals are grateful enough to them too that they are allowed to bolster morale any time they’re used together. Zaoshen even signed off on them having a split rank.”
“Wonderful!” I let myself laugh. The art of making artifacts from scratch, I’d extrapolated from Name Crafting, was essentially forging celestial paperwork saying that the item was able, obligated and allowed to do fancy things. Or, if you were civilized, working with the Forge court to file it properly.
The keystone reason that the materials for artifacts tended to have massive minimum age requirements was so that the materials’ spirits actually did have that amount of power. After all, it didn’t matter how well you forged the paperwork, a dandelion wasn’t going to be able to quell a monster’s rage unless it had some serious help.
My latest method - simply calling for a review of permissions based on the item’s actions - was far less reliable and far less intensive. But crucially, it didn’t rely on the collecting, planning, and smithing process to make something worthy of a minor legend.
Meaning I could do it wherever I went and essentially on a whim. Something I was revelling in for the simple, stupid reason that I could turn a wooden bowl into an artifact against starvation or simple cooking pots into morale-strengthening powerhouses with no effort beyond filing some papers and making a case to some Administrators.
I was reminded of Legacy items from my time playing D&D. As long as an item performed its duty beyond expectation, it could elevate itself in stature.
And the Administrators thought that ‘belling’ me with a fundamentally empty court would reduce the stress on them.
“Also!” Wuhen bounced along as I started walking. “The Air spirit that got caught assisting you made an interesting request.”
“Oh?”
“It caught word of the project and requested a position as a runner between you and the Air courts.”
“Are you being run around enough that it’d help?” I asked, trying to concoct a reason a spirit would want to be assigned to deal with me.
“Not as such, though I wouldn’t scoff at a second pair of legs. No, it’s just under the impression that being around you will give it more opportunities for promotion, provided it survives them.”
I cocked my head. “It wants to be put in danger?”
“Indeed. From what I understand, it suffers from a bad case of hero worship and wants to eventually be a General under you.”
“Hm.” I let the layers of assumption that the spirit was making unfold before me. It clearly thought that I was being given the court for military purposes, which was contrary to the sentiment of the Administrators, but a reasonable enough mistake. It thought that being a runner like Wuhen would grant it growth opportunities, despite Wuhen’s growth being because he was an Ink spirit dealing with paperwork.
Which meant either that it was an idiot or that it was angling for being on hand to do the lung trick more often, and using that as an excuse to ask for a promotion to something that would let it start growing properly. Probably while learning my combat style by osmosis.
“Was it caught assisting me, or did it arrange to get ‘caught’?”
“That hadn’t been filed when I checked, but I asked around with the Frost spirits and they weren’t the ones who reported it. So I believe it conspired to get noticed in its overstepping.”
“Any word on why it didn’t just petition to become an attendant?”
“The number of rejections.”
That made sense. Wuhen had gotten approved by the Ink court in no small part because they wanted to see me succeed in my war plan. The dozens of petitions that I’d heard about since weren’t so lucky. While each of the courts they hailed from were on civil terms with me, I was still a headache for the administration, and nobody wanted the ire of letting me become more of one.
Really, outside of personal charm, only the Ink court actually seemed to like me.
“See if it’s free for dinner.” I finally decided. “Invite the investigating administrator too. I’ll hear it out and decide if it’s worth encouraging.”
“Moshui?”
“Runners will be one of the chief ways that other courts present themselves in the bureaucratic politics once the project gets the traction it needs. The chief decision regarding them will depend on their rulers and administrators, but I can put forth a ‘what I would appreciate’ impression off the page. That will inform the political dance’s tempo.”
“Well, yes.” Wuhen trailed off to ponder what he knew about the non-paperwork politics. “You’re evaluating whether it’s worth the reputation of a poacher of talents.”
“Close. Remember how I sit in relation to the courts.”
It took him a moment before he gurgled in realization. “A separate Grand Court?”
“That’s what it’ll look like I’m aiming for if I encourage the eventual transfers. So there are thousands of major factors I need to account for in what I encourage. If I convey ‘I’ll take your malcontents’, that looks like building up an army. If ‘I’ll accept your wastes’, much the same as I allow them to grow. The way Heaven’s domain is structured, there’s essentially no safe answer.”
“Hundun.” he gasped in horror.
“Exactly. Either I play nice enough that the bureaucracy doesn’t have to worry about me inspiring the Earthly courts to revolution, or they turn their armies on me to prevent anyone else from getting ideas.”
“Surely it’s worth kneeling to prevent that!”
“If my goal were peace, yes.” I nodded with an uncomfortably stony face. “But that would kill me more surely than anything else. So I need to find the path of playing nice enough that entrenched power doesn’t make the Fang’s mistake.”
A task I suspected was just genuinely impossible, but it’s not like that was new to me. Heaven itself acknowledged my right to stand separate. Like hell its bureaucratic servants were going to browbeat me into bowing.
Comments
Yeno .M Evig
Ha Guang's legend has spread far and wide even to this village 😁
Luxire Worse
More 'he makes ordinary objects into relics by *filing* the paperwork to get the administrators to grant the new permissions' The Administrators are bothered more because 'this random guy knows how to file things and we can't stop him' than by the paperwork appearing.
Xodarap4
Ok so Guang is just casually starting Myths and Legends among the mortals while hamming it up as a sentai series hero facing the bad villain. Heck he's making ordinary objects into relics via blessing the paperwork into existence to irritate the administration to grant the request of the newly faith empowered object.
