Author's Corner

Thank you to everyone who read the previous chapter. I hope you all enjoy this one!

Trigger warning: gore and references to sexual assault.

EIGHTH BLOOD

Chapter 106: Fallen kingdom

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The sky was full of swirling white flakes.

Clenching her jaw, Asuka hiked across the scorched ground with her wits about her. The smoke was making her eyes water, and she could taste ash on her tongue.

After a week-long siege, the Eastern Stronghold finally succumbed to their attacks. The fortress had been built centuries ago in a deep gorge called Giant's Bowl; named after the sheer size of the warlord who had conquered the Eastern Lands in those times. Now, all that remained of the valley were smoking fields and a mountain of rubble where the fortress had once stood.

Asuka's eyes flicked to the steep cliffs on either side of the valley that had helped secure their victory. Huge chunks had broken off during the initial onslaught, therefore the cliff faces were covered in scars and fissures, much like her own skin was. She climbed over a collapsed watchtower and found a group of her fellow soldiers chipping away at something with their swords and battle axes.

The Shikonstone in their blades glimmered faintly, prompting Asuka to glance down at the knife hanging from her own belt. The Commander had issued an order that they were each to carry at least one weapon forged with the crystals they had mined from Namida, and use them for the purpose they'd been designed for. If a youkai was slain with a weapon made from Shikonstone, then their youki was permanently disintegrated and thus unable to be reborn as something new. Simply put, Shikonstone didn't just kill a youkai's physical form – it killed their souls as well.

"What are you doing over there?" she asked sharply, halting the clattering of blades temporarily as the boys all turned to look at her. They couldn't have been older than thirteen, but their eyes were as cold and unfeeling as ice.

One of the boys stepped aside to reveal a skull that was as large as a boulder. Parts of it were singed with black residue, but it was otherwise intact. "This stuff's pretty hard," the boy said. "We thought the Commander might want it crafting into weapons and armour—"

"You thought wrong, soldier. No weapon can compete with the ones we already have, and if there are any survivors lurking around here, you'll need more than just armour to protect you from them. Now, get back to work. And for Erem's sake, leave that blasted thing alone."

They lowered their weapons and replied in unison, "Yes, Captain."

Asuka left them to scour the wreckage for survivors and carried on walking. She doubted that they would find any – the flames had eaten their way through the valley in its entirety, eviscerating all that stood in its way – but it was better to be safe than sorry.

Something crunched beneath her boot unexpectedly, making the hairs on the back of her neck bristle in anticipation. When she lifted her foot, her stomach shrivelled in revulsion as she realised what she'd stepped on. The layers of skin and muscle had all burned away, leaving only the skeleton underneath, but the bones at her feet had obviously belonged to a child.

Asuka felt an overwhelming urge to vomit. Contrary to what she'd let Octavia think, she had never killed a child before. Not intentionally, anyway. Youkai or not, the thought of this one burning to death made bile rise in her throat. But then again, smaller monsters tended to grow into bigger monsters. Maybe it was better to catch them early—before they became a threat.

She strode over the skeleton and trudged onwards without warranting it a second glance. After all, she had been a child once, and no one had mourned her.

Once she had been pronounced dead, her parents had thanked the Radiant One for deeming her a worthy sacrifice and gone about their lives as if they'd never even had a daughter, because why wouldn't they? It was a privilege to have sired one of the Devoured. None of the villagers had known the truth about the ritual, and the Devoured each swore an oath after travelling through the schism to never set foot in the village again. Asuka wondered how her parents would have reacted if she had broken her vows and shown up on their doorstep one day. Would they have welcomed her home with open arms? Or would they have mistaken her for a ghost?

"Hey, Captain! Over here!"

The girl waved her arms around frantically in an attempt to get her attention. Despite the distance between them, Asuka recognised her right away. Mei-Hua was only nine years old, but she was already a brilliant fighter and an even better strategist. She had severe yet striking features, and her dark hair was cropped close to her scalp.

They had found her in a pleasure house on the southwestern coast of Nihon. She and her father had sailed from China when she was still just a baby in order to escape from their pursuers. Prior to their voyage across the sea, her father had worked as a bodyguard for a wealthy family, but the head of the household had turned on him after discovering that his wife had fallen pregnant with another man's child. Said wife sadly died in childbirth whilst they were on the run, so Mei-Hua grew up without a mother figure to guide her. Fortunately, her father saw to it that she could hold her own in a fight. When he passed away from an incurable illness and she was picked up by the pleasure house, the first man who tried to bed her lost both of his testicles with one fell swoop of a hairpin. Asuka couldn't have paid the brothel owners fast enough.

"What is it, soldier?" she asked as she approached the girl.

"Come and see," replied Mei-Hua.

Asuka would have preferred some warning, but the girl was already scurrying away like a mouse.

She followed her to a relatively large gathering of soldiers, who were laughing and jeering at something she couldn't see. Their yellow uniforms were blinding against the white backdrop, reminding her of daffodils in a snowstorm. Asuka commanded them to make a path for her and marched forwards with her hand hovering over the handle of her whip.

There was a man trapped under a pile of rubble, covered in ash and blood and other unsavoury substances. His long brown hair was matted and similarly bloody, and his clothes hung from his body in tattered shreds.

Asuka crept closer, trying to discern if he was alive or dead. He was positively massive. His arms alone were twice the width of her shoulders, and his hands made hers look like they belonged to a toddler. She flinched when he lifted his head and locked eyes with her. The markings on his face made her chest constrict with terror, and she halted her advance immediately.

This was no man. It was a Daiyoukai.

"Get back!" she ordered the soldiers. "This is no ordinary demon. If it transforms, you'll all be dead." She waited until they were a decent enough distance away before lowering her voice and asking, "Are you the lord of this valley?"

"I was," he answered without breaking eye contact with her. "My name is Susumu."

"I don't care what your name is." She eyed the rubble carefully. "Are you really stuck or are you just pretending?"

"I wish I was. Unfortunately, I think my legs may be broken."

"Can't you heal them? I've heard that your kind possesses incredible regenerative abilities."

"Ordinarily, yes. However, I have exhausted nearly all of my youki. I'm using what little strength I have left to keep these stones from crushing me."

Asuka meandered closer and crouched before him on one knee. "You're dying."

He laughed weakly. "I'm afraid so. Unless you can find it in you to lend a tired old man a hand?"

"You don't look old."

"I can assure you I am. This face is nought but an illusion."

That didn't surprise her. Demons were liars through and through. Nothing about them was ever genuine. Their words, their natures, even their appearances. It was all a lie.

Her fingers curled around the hilt of her knife and squeezed. The eastern lord noticed but refrained from commenting on it. "I should kill you," she said. "I want to, but my master wants it more. And he always gets what he wants." She pulled the knife from its sheath and pressed the sharp edge against his throat. "I could say it was self-defence. You attacked first. I had no choice. Why shouldn't I be the one to kill you? I think I deserve that much, don't you?"

His eyes narrowed with what looked to be fascination. "You hate us," he mumbled. "You truly, truly hate us. Why is that?"

She almost laughed. "What's not to hate? You're all the same. You take what you want and kill without remorse. You deserve to die. I won't rest until each and every one of you has reaped what you've sown."

"I see. One of us took something from you. What was it? A mother? A father? Both?"

"My virtue," she hissed.

His expression faltered slightly. It made her feel used and besmirched all over again. No matter how hard she tried to forget, nothing could absolve her of the shame she felt for placing herself in that situation.

"I'm sorry that happened to you," he whispered.

Asuka glared at him. "Don't be. The thing that did it to me sure as hell wasn't. It was years ago, but I can remember it like it was only yesterday. It was my first proper mission. I'd never been on my own before, but I knew I'd be fine." She applied pressure to the knife, drawing blood. "I was wrong. It raped me, robbed me, then left me there, defenceless and bleeding out. I could have died. I would have if my master didn't come looking for me. He saved me. He always does . . . That's why I can't forgive you. Because every time I look at one of you, I see its face again."

"I understand."

"No, you don't. You will never understand—"

"Asuka. Stop."

Her throat felt like it was on fire as she turned and gazed into the Commander's multicoloured eyes. He towered over her like a giant clad in gold. And blood. So much blood.

Willing herself to be brave, she held his stare for as long as she could, but her courage always seemed to turn tail and flee when she was in his presence. Lowering the knife, she rose to her feet and bowed her head like the obedient soldier she was, but it was just an excuse to hide her face. She didn't want him or the others to see her tears.

Susumu's gaze travelled to the obsidian breastplate and spiked pauldron that her master had taken to wearing and muttered, "That armour . . . Do my eyes deceive me or is it—"

"I'm told you've met my sister," Augustus greeted cordially. "I take it you remember her?"

"I can't say I do. What is her name?"

"It'll come to you."

His lone purple eye dazzled like an amethyst as he knelt before the rubble and smiled. Recognition passed through the eastern lord's features, making Augustus smile wider.

"Were you sent here by Sesshoumaru? Has he allied himself with you as well as her?"

"No."

"Then why—"

"I need you to take a message to him and my sister."

"Saying what?"

He leaned closer and whispered, "I'm coming."

Susumu frowned. "Why not tell them yourself?"

"Because where's the fun in that?"

Asuka watched as the Commander reached into his robes and withdrew a pair of thimble-shaped claw rings made from Shikonstone. Slotting them onto his thumbs, he cradled Susumu's face in his hands with all the tenderness of a close friend and smiled sweetly.

The eastern lord, however, was far from impressed. "You burn my people alive out of spite for another, and you expect me to get involved with your silly little games? Everything I've built is gone. My family is dead. Find someone else to torment."

"They're dead, are they? Your wife and lover, perhaps, but your children most certainly aren't. At least you had the decency to send them away before it was too late. You were a better father to them than mine was to me. Unfortunately, that isn't a good enough reason to let you live."

"I can't deliver your message if you kill me, mage."

"I beg to differ," Augustus said calmly. "Lives speak louder than words, don't you think? Especially when they end."

Susumu barely had time to blink before Augustus thrust his thumbs into the eastern lord's eyes and pushed, driving the sharp tips of the claw rings in as far as they would go. Blood gushed down his cheeks and into his open mouth, muffling his screams of pain. Asuka couldn't bring herself to look away, not even when his eyeballs exploded out of his skull like grapes.

He was dead long before his face even hit the ground. The soldiers all cheered and clapped each other's shoulders, but Asuka's eyes remained fixed on the eastern lord's corpse. Blood pooled around his head like a cloak made of roses. She imagined the demon who had violated her all those years ago lying there in his place, drowning in a pool of its own dirty blood.

"You can have the next one," Augustus said without looking at her.

Asuka stiffened. Had he somehow read her mind? "I don't—"

"I mean it," he continued, peering at her from over his shoulder. "He's all yours."

Heart racing, she took a leap of faith and whispered, "Why?"

He rewarded her bravery with a smile, although the blood around his mouth made it look more like a grimace. He removed the crimson-stained claw rings from his thumbs and wiped them clean on his robes, then said, "Because I want to see the look on his face when he realises that he's about to die at the hands of a human girl with no powers whatsoever."

"I don't need magic to slay monsters."

"I know. That's why I chose you as my second-in-command instead of someone older and more experienced. Everyone else pales in comparison to you, Asuka."

The compliment made her cheeks heat up. "Thank you, sir. I won't let you down."

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Sesshoumaru's eyes narrowed as he read the letter again in its entirety.

"Well?" Octavia probed. "What does it say?"

"It's from Yuudai," he answered gravely. "He claims to have written this whilst the Eastern Stronghold was being besieged. He's also wounded, hence the bloody fingerprints."

"Who are they being attacked by?"

"An army of humans."

"Humans?" she echoed, confused. "Am I missing something? You lot are always banging on about how we're the weaker species, so shouldn't the fighting be fairly one-sided?"

"They're being led by a mage."

Her breath hitched. "You mean . . ."

"He's here," Cyril said. "I can feel it. His power has grown significantly since I last saw him."

Octavia shook her head. "He can't be. I'm not ready—"

"Calm yourself," Sesshoumaru told her. "Panicking will not hinder his progress. Nor will it help the Eastern Stronghold." He crushed the letter in his fist and marched towards the door.

"Where are you going?" demanded Octavia.

"Susumu was one of my father's closest companions. I must go to his aid at once."

"You mustn't!" cried Cyril. "You'd be playing right into Gus's hands. Besides, you'll never make it in time. The ink on this parchment is at least four days old. There may not be anything left to save."

"Then what am I to do?"

"Send someone to scope out the area and find out what's going on over there," Octavia suggested, beating Cyril to the punch. "In the meantime, write letters to the other warlords informing them of what's happened. There's a good chance that Yuudai has written to them already, but on the off chance that he hasn't, we have to come clean and tell them everything we know. Including the truth about me and Cyril. The last thing we want is for them to hear it from Augustus instead of us."

"They'll never believe us," Cyril sighed. "Not without proof, anyhow."

Her eyes blazed. "They don't have to. They just have to be on their guard in case my brother decides to turn his sights towards their lands next."

"And if they choose to burn the letters instead of opening them?" Sesshoumaru asked. "No thanks to the ugliness of Tanabata, relations between us were already fraught. They may no longer wish to associate with a warlord whose position was usurped by a mere hanyou."

She wasn't giving up that easily. "Then we'll send ambassadors as well as letters."

"Who?"

"Nagisa to the South and your mother to the North."

"Why those two?" enquired Cyril.

"Hiroto still loves Nagisa. If anyone can get through to him, it's her. And if he's on our side, then Taiki will have no choice but to listen to us. As for Megumi – Arashi spoke highly of her during Tanabata. If she vouches for us, he might take what we're saying seriously."

Sesshoumaru's expression was unreadable. "And who, pray tell, will scope out the East?"

"Kanetsugu."

"Why?"

"He's the fastest flier you have," she said, remembering Kanetsugu's proud boasting. "We can't do anything until we know what sort of state the Eastern Stronghold is in. If he plays his cards right, no one will even know he was there."

Sesshoumaru was silent for quite some time, seemingly contemplating all that she'd said.

Swallowing, Octavia stole a sideways glance at Cyril. He looked as nervous as she felt. She could hardly blame him. It was essential that she and Sesshoumaru maintained a certain facade in front of others, but she had forgotten herself in the heat of the moment and compromised the illusion they had worked so hard to create. No one bossed the Lord of the Western Lands around and lived to tell the tale—especially not a human. What had she been thinking?

However, in a bizarre turn of events, Sesshoumaru surprised them both by smirking. "You stole the words right out of my mouth, human," he said. "You would have made a decent warlord."

A laugh slipped free before she could stop it. "I know—I mean, thank you, my lord."

Cyril cleared his throat awkwardly. "So, we're all in agreement?"

"It would appear so," replied Sesshoumaru. "Now we must find Kanetsugu. He has a long flight ahead of him."

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