A Stone Resists the Flood
“I’m not stupid,” Choshu Ishi had said sourly, a week before. Now, as the gates of the Marukan First Legion’s late camp splintered and the army of beastmen outside howled in anticipation, he wasn’t so sure.
But he had said it and, staring at stern, doubtful Cathak Nekuto, he had meant it. “I’m not stupid. I want to be a hero, not a suicide.”
“Do you think there’s only a dozen of them out there, Ishi? Have you looked over the walls? There are thousands. They’ll overwhelm you in moments. I need to leave behind a rear-guard, not a gift!”
“How many dead men does it take to turn the one into the other? How many minutes is the life of one tiger warrior worth?” Ishi had seen, from the look in his general’s eyes, that he had struck a nerve, that Nekuto had already done those grim calculations. “Will you give me the Zhuque Brotherhood, who you'll need if there are beastmen waiting in the hills you climb up into. Or would you leave Exalted behind? Agathaon, Soho? The discerning, the faithful? Men you'll need when the army is gone and you try to grab a desperate peace.
“Let me stand alone. I’m all that you can afford.”
“It’s not your stand that worries me,” the general had said, “it’s your fall.”
“Then give me a different kind of calculation; the length of the night, the speed of your march, the distance to safety. Tell me how long you need, and I’ll stand until then I swear. After that? If I can, I'll run for all I'm worth."
Ishi had droped his voice. "And if I fall, you only lose one man."
Nekuto had grunted. “If we can collapse the tunnel entrance behind us? Five hours.”
So Ishi had prepared his terrain well; sand-filled barrels as a bulwark to his right, the stone barracks to his rear, a cart loaded with hay between his position and the gates and a low trench beyond that to slow them down. He had not felt stupid then, nor when he had said his farewells.
But now? Well, maybe a little.
He focused his essence and assumed an Aura of Invulnerability. He clutched his jade daiklave and felt the Strength of Stone Technique in his arms. As the gates of the camp at last gave way he assumed the Five-Dragon Form and his anima banner, the towering marble colossus of an age long-lost, rose around him.
Ishi spun and struck once, carving through the stone barracks with his blade, Hidden Riches. The earth rumbled like a beast unchained and, when the dust cleared, the barracks had collapsed over the entrance to his allies’ escape route.
“Come on,” he said to the beastmen rushing for the fight. “Let’s see if you dogs can outlast Choshu Ishi, the Twice Stone Soldier!” He raised his blade in position to guard with the Five-Dragon Blocking Technique, and they were on him then, with teeth and claws and spears, but Ishi did not strike another blow.
