Waterstrider

Little Celah, Tseludia Station, Pantheonic Territory, Fifthmonth, 1634 PTS

Wei growled as his mist domain spread around him in all directions, stalling the bullets which flew in all directions to control the chaos of the melee.

He was too old for this, he thought. Every time he released his energy for a burst of strength, Wei could feel the creaking of his joints, the weakness of his muscles. War was the domain of the young. In the end, what mattered in this conflict would be the new spirit refiners such as Karie or Juen. He was too much of a fossil, his progression long stalled out to a halt, and age had finally caught up. He had plenty of lifespan left, of course. A few decades more, if nothing went wrong today. But the closer he got to the end, the more Wei understood his own weakness, and felt concerned about what he would leave behind.

After all, he had trouble fighting just one enforcer. A young spirit refiner had a distinct advantage against the machines, the reason why the clan could hold out against the far greater number of combatants on this level. But his aging bones simply could not take the strain they used to, his senses dulling. He could not help thinking, however, that he wouldn’t mind dying today all that much. One day soon, his children would start reaching the end of their lifespans, and Wei did not wish to outlive them. Still, he would not leave Sisi and the rest of the clan behind, not when he could still assist them.

It was his duty.

The blades of the enforcer slammed down upon him, but Wei met it with his own sword, expertly parrying even despite the vast power of the machine. Drawing upon his experience from the two wars he had lived through already, Wei was able to conserve as much energy as possible in his motions, saving it for when his own sword dug into the gaps between the enforcer’s heavy plates.

A blast of flickering miasma pressed into his domain, causing the stone of the ground between them to bubble and warp. Wei knew this heralded a swift uptick in the machine’s energy output, so he took a swift step backwards, buying himself some space. As expected, moments later the mech burst forward with a quick motion, and Wei was prepared. With a swift burst of green smoke, he ducked beneath the machine, digging his blade into its left leg with a squeal of clattering metal. The mech fell to one knee, and Wei was not one to allow such an opportunity to escape him.

If he was on his own, Wei might have had to expend far greater effort dealing with the enforcer, but a number of his relatives and even descendants were backing him up. With the enforcer needing to split its efforts to deal with them all, Wei’s job was much easier. Blocking Celan bullets taxed his domain, and handling the swords and overall bulk of the machine took very swift, precise motions. Sometimes, he wished he had taken a proper movement technique when he was younger. Its lack made many matters far more difficult for him.

Wei clambered up the enforcer’s surface, taking some light grazes from bullets as he fended off the swords and approached the upper chest of the machine. Before he could be forced away, he slammed his weapon down, driving it deep into what he knew was the cavity where the pilot resided. This was a very difficult and risky trick for most martial artists to attempt, but Wei’s cerebral technique had a very simple, yet powerful ability. If he wished, he could enhance his senses, able to precisely understand not just the rough location of the pilot, but their specific body shape and orientation, just from his senses of smell and hearing. As such, he could tell exactly where to aim, his sword skewering right through the torso of the Korlove pilot, killing her in instants, and leaving the damaged enforcer without a pilot. He then quickly dove away from the machine, half-expecting it to explode.

The Celans always destroyed their technology if they were worried that aliens might get their hands on it. If possible, they preferred to do so when an enemy was nearby.

“What is the situation?” he asked, stepping into a well-defended dwelling that was being used as a command post, to gather his energies once more. With the enforcer down, he had felt that the others could handle the battle for a bit more. As a spirit refiner, he needed to conserve his energies for where they were most needed, a mobile force that needed to affect multiple different parts of the battlefield.

Pakas, the First Commander, stood there inside of what seemed to be somebody’s living room, analyzing results from various terminals. He looked up on Wei’s approach, moving to bow, but Wei waved him off.

“No need to bother with this. An update would suffice.”

The younger man nodded, and then launched into a summary. Overall, the situation was going well. While they had stalled up here, they were also stalling out the majority of the Celan forces. The mercenaries had yet to breach the compound, but were steadily making pace. The success of the Riverfiend and his sect, however, surprised Wei.

“They’re already inside?” he asked, slightly shocked by such an outcome. It hadn’t even been a quarter of an hour since the fighting had begun.

Pakas continued to look over and tap on his various tablets.

“We haven’t received an update in several minutes, but that seems to be the case. It seems the Celans did not anticipate how effective the Redwater Vice-Leader’s disguise capabilities were.

“So it seems,” muttered Wei, unable to help but feel as if something was off. But he could not be sure whether this implied the Celans had staged a trap for the Riverfiend, or were collaborating with him. This was the problem with that type of personality- people like Sirena and the Riverfiend always attracted both allies and enemies in equal measure. Moreover, he thought, there was often far too little difference between the two. Wei returned his attention to Pakas.

“Where should I go?” he asked.

Wei knew that the younger man’s tactical acumen far surpassed his own, and had no desire to interfere. Everyone had their own specialties, after all. While Pakas was officially in command of the battle, Wei was still his superior, and a true-blooded member of the clan. Still, he knew Pakas, who was aware of the exact current battle situation, could tell him the perfect location to attack.

“Another enforcer just arrived one stack away, leading a company of soldiers. If you can prevent them from harassing our flank, it would take pressure off of our main force.”

Wei considered the idea, and then immediately decided to do it. There was no need to overthink such things. The faster he moved, the greater his impact would be. Such was the nature of battle.

Quickly running to arrive at the designated location, Wei was easily able to find the enforcer in question. There was little such an oversized machine could do to hide itself in any case. Green mist began to pour from his body as Wei prepared to engage himself in combat once more.

Wasting no time, Wei swiftly sped across the battlefield, surprising the enforcer’s pilot with his sudden appearance, and forcing it to divert one of its guns to him. It was too bulky and slow, however, and Wei arrived before it could fully react. He brandished his sword with a thunderous swing, forcing the great mech to take a step backwards from the pressure he imposed.

The enforcer slashed back in moments using two of the lengthy, heavy blades attached to half of its arms, but Wei dodged one and parried the other with ease. Bullets crashed into his barrier, but were slowed just enough that he could keep out of their way by continuously moving.

He watched the enforcer carefully, looking for any openings, but it pressed forward before he could find one, the fusillade of blows sufficient that even Wei felt pressured. He leapt backwards, adeptly dodging a Jobu’s corpse that lay on the ground, but the last minute shift of his legs midair caused him to land with more force than he had intended. With a painful shift of his knee joint, Wei’s leg slightly buckled, and it took a moment for him to regain his readied stance. But it was too late, and he knew it.

Had he the time, Wei would likely have sighed.

He had made an error, and as was common in combat, it was devastating. Just as he could theirs, the enemy could take advantage of each and any mistake that Wei made. A bullet tore through his clavicle, followed by one to his thigh, and another to the chest. Shocked, Wei took a few steps backwards, drawing on the strength of his genesis physique to remain awake and standing. However, the fusillade did not stop. After the seventh impact, Wei’s legs gave out, and he fell to the ground as in the distance, his enhanced senses heard the dismayed calls of Elder, Uncle, and Grandpa.

As he spiraled into darkness, Wei couldn’t help but feel that he really had become a fragile old man. When he got back, Little Sisi would probably laugh at him…

‘Windless’ Wei Hadal: [Few on Tseludia remember the battle that gave this aged warrior his title, and few were even alive at the time, as over a century has passed. The meaning of it, too, is known by few, even those who have heard of his title. The rumor went that he once sapped the energy out of the wind itself, leaving an entire plain perfectly still. He was one of the Clan’s true elites during the war that resulted in their exodus from Canvas. On Tseludia, the man is known for his dedication to his clan and Matriarch. He had four children, one of which died back on Canvas, while the other three remain alive. His wife, however, has been deceased for over seventy years. While few believe he has much chance of approaching immortality, he remains among the most powerful martial artists on the station, and a vital figure for the Hadal Clan’s internal stability.]