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Fortune telling: Nin

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On the Wane I

For many the summer of ’82 was marked by the province’s fencing school and the doings of the practitioners of defence; namely Achirawit making self-evident his poor character through giving a revenge blow for what he thought was an insult given by another battlesword practitioner. It was unbecoming of a man who had reached the station of freefencer in so few years; fewer than the head of the fencing school even.

More importantly the man he had struck Ging was my friend - my junior.

Though that would not be the last time cruelty blighted the life of the youth and his intimates as roughly three or four months later Baiyok was unknowingly defiled and bore the fruit of the congress for some time before seeking our help. In the third month of ’83 shortly after purging the child from her womb Nin myself was attacked in my own house by the badman who spearheaded the rape: Vanida. Once an intimate to Baiyok she was later sold to slavery after her father lost an embezzlement case and became a bankrupt. She hated Baiyok for staying her hand when her father had the means to make under-the-table deals; the same sort her father made to ensure Baiyok became an apprentice of the barbershop she wished.

In a few short years she learned the old Art of fleshcrafting and led a flock of mankillers fraudsmen and those of likewise low character. With her Art she stole inked skin from our countrymen and placed them on her folk so they claim false names false hometowns and false lords they answer to. The clan ran from one province to another and by ’82 they were in Silverport.

Nin myself and my intimates found them lingering at the edges of the province; the once bustling Jinfolk Wharf; and set upon them the same hurt we had given to the Suwunsingh family ten years ago through our Art but before we could kill Vanida we had to flee due to wounds of our own.

Silverport did not become anymore peaceable by ’83 - the remotest opposite in fact. Quarrels between the youths university students serpents peace officers and Nightwatch grew common but the fruit of such doings were the same; the seaside part of the province turning into a shithole in both sight and smell.

The clan showed itself again during the summer; soon after the shootists’ festival we found Vanida and a few of her fellows stealing powder from forts and fleeing through a canal running through a spot in the southeast. We killed her fellows and stopped the six-limbed mankiller for good though I myself took many blows from her and had it not been for Baiyok the hurt would have been grave.

Our matter became known but by the month’s end the peace officers and the common folk were willing to look the other way. The work was too great. The hurt was between men of little mention. The canals and roads needed cleaning.

It is nearing winter now though the might of such a season is quite scant in a spot so far south of the country. Whilst my limbs have long healed since the affray with the outlaws a disagreeable feeling lingered in my belly due the recent choosing of Baiyok and Waroon; following an ask about Waroon’s willingness to force upon her an abortion the two quarreled and it became a matter of honor - a matter which demanded a duel to settle.

“Good day, senior.” Rising from the stiff straw mats of the teahouse and greeting me is the youth Ging. There is golden yellow at the tips of his hair and more ink on the underside of his left wrist since I saw it last - not that I blame him for not wishing to be part of the peace officers or Nightwatch at this time.

“Good day, junior.” I return the greeting and sit down.

“Waroon will not be joining us, senior?” He asks as I free the undulate sword and its belt from my shoulder.

“For now, no.”
“…”
“I hear you are eighteen years of age now. How is it?”

“I liked the aera of my youth more, quite frankly.” Ging turns away as he laughs. “Though...”

There is little joy in his voice.

“I would have liked drinking with you and my fellows at the alehouse.”

“I would have liked it as well, junior.”

There needn’t be very many words before our better halves join us at the table.

“Had you not known me as intimately, would your choice have been different, senior?” Not wholly willing to face us our junior glances at her cup of mango sherbet as she asks.

In the infinite blackness her words linger in the air for some time.

“I doubt it would have made a difference to me.” The silence is broken by a few unfeeling words from Waroon.

“How are you much different from Vanida, then.” The partly murmured pondering from Baiyok changed that. For a very brief moment Waroon recoiled as if struck on the face and right away clasped a hand on her mouth. I’m quite sure she must have bared her fangs without thought.

“Oh, child.” As her fingers slowly leave her lips so do a few words in a gentle tone.

you know what is to follow, jiragarn. Suwunsingh twitches and shudders once he feels it - the scantly veiled anger in her throat.

you could stop her.
I suppose I could.

“You know, child. I have seen your sort before. Folk who were violated, folk whose rule over their own body was taken from them. It adulterates them. Some forsake their want for coition all together. Some think their only worth in life comes from coition. Some live in fear. Some live, seeking hurt and doing hurt to those who try to help them.”
“All that is to say, child.”
“I’ve seen children raped far more violently and longer than you yet they retain enough of their faculty to not say something so thoughtless.”

“That-”
“That was cruel.” Like a whipped dog Baiyok turns away and grows quiet.

“And so was your doing.”
“Putting us near her- that’s grave enough an insult! And was it not you who gave the first blow by insinuating- no, saying a woman who forced a child into your belly and the folk who purged that difficulty are the same.”

“Tch.” Hearing her huff and seeing her pale yellow fangs peek through her lips again I rest a hand on her lap. It slows the pace of her breathing if only by a little.

“A mankiller and a barber are one and the same because stitching a wound gives the same amount of hurt as slicing open flesh and skin??? You insult me. You insult us. I would have told you to take back such words or stand -- were we not presently in the circumstance which demands it.”

“That was-”
“That was never.”
“My intention, senior.”
“I only-”
“I didn’t wish you to be-”
“To walk a road that is.”
“Ugly.”
“Like her.”

“Ah.” Waroon lowers her head and brings a knee upright before resting a hand on it. Her fingers curl up a little more than she realizes. There is only silence as the two giants look away from each other.

Again Waroon was the first to break the silence. “Why do we walk such roads and make such choosings. I suppose I ought to make evident now.”

“I’m sure you remember this picture.” Waroon raises a hand and opens her palm. From the blackness I summon the nearshore part of Silverport; sprouting around us are the lanes and its many eating places; canals whose water were only a little lighter than gravy on the best of days; and alleys folk seldom spare a look as they walk past.

“But that’s not really the case anymore, is it.” She makes a fist and the picture changes to the one we know far too intimately these days; puddles of murky water around around roadsides; mounds of grease covered plantain leaves and half eaten food in alleys and lesser traveled parts of the road; and canals whose waters have since turned black and foul smelling.

“These difficulties are not the doing of a single man, rather, the fruit of the elections of many -- folkway, ensouled and in the middle of quickening. Bits and pieces of unsightly things on the road won’t straightaway rot a man’s heart but such things will chaff and scrape it and given time the unsightly, the shunned, the shame of a district, becomes the common sight. Our normality becomes one that is a little more coarse, a little more ugly.”

“And a gathering of folkways and normalities -- agreed upon ‘truths’ -- is that not what a folk is?”

“I’m unsure as to what you intend to say.” Some of the fear and worry vanishes from our junior’s voice as she asks.

“Shame is above all else the sword which lingers above man’s head. Through this channel folkways are born -- and folkways are not without fault.”

“Take for example the sword. Though the particulars vary from one province to another there is nothing in the freefolk groundlaw which prohibits women from the carrying of swords, yet we do not see them with it, no, in its stead as means of defence are long knives, pipes, flutes, fans and the sort.” With all of her fingers excepting the thumb together Waroon points at the sheathed long knife by our junior’s side before resting it on her breast. “Why?”

“Because the sword exists outside our station. It is man, rather, who is expected to bear the fighting weapons.”

“And even he has his borders clearly marked. My Nin carries his close-hilted sword and dagger under his arm like his forebears. Your Ging carries it through a belt which hangs a sheath at his hip like many his age. But very, very few men carry their daggers behind them resting on their bum.”
“Why.”
“Because they don’t wish to be mistaken for low company; men with cruel dispositions and a want to gamble oft wear them in such a way and in turn the picture of the bum-dagger has been with us ever since it was brought to this country.”

“A matter mayhaps closer to our station would be the trade and consequently abortion, the latter of which is shunned by both law and man. If you were to ask why that is the case you could find a hundred and eight reasons; some say the Middle Path’s instructions to not take and oppress life unnecessarily mean the undoing of the unborn is needless hurt; some fear race suicide - the freefolk killing their future whilst more fruitful races such as the mussulman, guests, or kirishitan are taken in; but the chief reason is: self-perpetuation is an inalienable part of a folk.”

“Convenience of the female sex isn’t.”

As the bits of Silverport return to nothingness another piece of our past takes their place; sprouting from the blackness around us are women. I don’t quite remember how many either but if I had to guess it must have been a few hundreds. The names and faces of whom have gotten foggier over the years.

“You once asked what is our doing and the intent behind it. These are the fruits of our election. Small nudges against folkways which have long since taken root.”
“And those little nudges paint quite the picture, don’t they.”

Baiyok looks around for a moment. It does not take long to find herself and Unshun amongst the flock.

“How lives -- do you think -- has Vanida saved, child? One-tenth of this? One-hundredth?” Waroon lightly tilts her head and rests an elbow on the table as she asks. “Mayhaps a comparison was never warranted in the first place, don’t you think?”

This is good work Waroon has done; chiseling away at the thought which upholds her willingness to duel us.

“I suppose-”
“I suppose so.”
“But--”

I do not let our junior stir for long and with a raise of a hand banish the blackness from the room. The talk can continue with more food and drink on our table.

With the year reaching its middle the mangoes are once again in season. They make for good if a little sweet sherbets. As for the pork rind I found them to be middling; hard on my teeth and lacking in salt. Out of the bunch I’d say the coconut milk hotcakes were the best - a cut above those greasy and spring onion garnished ones Oubshei often bought.

After exhausting the sherbet from her cup our junior is the first to break the silence. “The difficulties on that road must have been great. What kept you at it?”

“Without doubt it was knowing some of my countrymen believed in the same dream. Men. Women. Children. My elders. My fellows. Through might bestowed upon them by their stations they helped push our folkway a little further and further.” As our folk sprout from the blackness a bittersweet feeling makes its way up my throat.

“They staked their lives for our dream. Without them we would have remained unlearnt.” Waroon opens her palm and appearing in her hand is a glass jar. Floating in its waters is a womb which has not lost its pink and redness yet. “In case you are wondering, she yet lives, though we have long parted ways.”

Our junior opens her lips for a moment before closing it and turning her head away.

“…”
“If there is nothing else, junior, I’d like to end this here: I take back my words, you take back yours.” Waroon extends her hand and gingerly touches our junior’s fingertips.

“There is.”
“There is one thing.”

With a little reluctance she pulls away. “You’ve shown us the folk you have saved.”

Right away Waroon knows the words which went unspoken. “You are thinking of the other side, aren’t you.”

“I am.”

“Lives are not equal, child. I think I’ve said this before.” With a sigh she explains. “When we said Vanida was gone, we did not mention all the particulars of that matter out of respect for your friendship with her. The case is the same here. Do you truly wish to know, in spite of the hurt it will bring?”

“I can’t look away and eat the fruits without knowing the pains you took to harvest them, can I.”

As much as it pleases me to see our junior follow our thoughts I’m unsure whether now is a good time.

>“I suppose you can’t.” [ Reveal killcount ]

It’s alright, Nin. Right as I turn to look at her Waroon slaps a hand on my shoulder and pushes her thought onto my mind.

she will see you in a different light. Suwunsingh notes.

No doubt. But that’s her choosing. We have been with her, instructed her and she followed our ways to this point. To veil ourselves now when it is convenient would mean betraying the very truths we believe in the first place.

is it worth losing her company?

It is worth risking life and limb over it.

Suwunsingh falls silent and retreats to my lower body. A strong squeeze to my right thigh makes him shudder and twitch under her thumb.

A word, my child. You speak as if your station and his are equal. Nin is a far kinder master than I for letting you speak uncontested.

>“You needn’t. That’s the point.” [ Keep hidden ]

Not every particular needed saying. We had little need to say Vanida helped Baiyok to her present station through under-the-table dealings to her intimates; it wouldn’t good them anymore to know.

isn’t it self-seeking of you to shun earnestness when your comfort is at stake? Suwunsingh reasonably asks.

Quite right. It is. And it is well within man’s character to be self-seeking; to seek conveniences. Such a thought has always been the cornerstone of our ways.

can you truly feel comfortable being with your juniors when you have to keep them in the dark about this part of you at all times?

No doubt that disagreeable feeling would forever be with me. Such are the costs of being on this road.

Another thing, Gittipud Suwunsingh. I don’t much like your guesses of what I ought to or ought not to feel. Keep at it. I need a reason to make the hurt worse.

[ Next Update: On the Wane II ]
a fork in the road.

[ Welcome back to the third and final thread of Devil and Instructress! ]
[ link to previous threads: https://suptg.thisisnotatrueending.com/qstarchive.html?tags=Devil%20and%20Instructress%20quest ]
[ thread 1: https://suptg.thisisnotatrueending.com/qstarchive/2025/6315850/ ]
[ thread 2: https://suptg.thisisnotatrueending.com/qstarchive/2026/6378733/ ]

>>6453283
>“I suppose you can’t.” [ Reveal killcount ]
I'm curious how the ledger shakes out. Interesting that Suwunsingh will undermine our confidence either way. What's his angle? I assumed he might just want us dead so he can reincarnate as something less awful than a parasitic worm that we periodically make relive his own suffering...

>>6453283
>“I suppose you can’t.” [ Reveal killcount ]

Voting’s closed.

>>6453795
Waiting warmly!

>>6454696
Same

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On the Wane II

>“I suppose you can’t.” [ Reveal killcount ]

With a little hesitation I expel my once intimates from the blackness and summon in their stead the badmen. Some took an uncomfortably long time to recall. Most did not.

“I-”
“I hadn’t expected so many women.”
“and children.”
“and--” Though she tries her best our junior could not stop making that face. Ging doesn’t wish to look at the herd much either and rests his head against her arm.

There is no hiding how clear this picture is. The hair around their lips and chin. Their ears. The whites and blacks of their eyes. The shape of their noses. Lengths of their limbs. Firmness of their muscles. Pustules and skin blemishes kept hidden under their dresses. Food I commonly saw in their hands.

Compared to how intimately I knew our folk it’s the difference between the heavens and earth.

“Women who stand and defend their offspring’s right to rape our countrymen and children who thought they could hide behind technicalities of the law after doing hurt.” Waroon stops our junior from dwelling in silence for too long. “It’s in man’s nature to remember one painful thought far more vividly and neglect the ten, fifteen joyous times before and since.” After a moment she lowers her head and accepts her explanation.

A decade’s worth of work laid out in its entirety yet I scantly feel anything from seeing it. A hundred and about a few dozen -- slightly less than one-fourth the folk we saved. Had the number been larger would it have bothered me? I don’t believe so. Had the number been smaller would it have comforted me? I don’t believe it either.

“I- I see.”
“But.”
“Forgive me, but I believe this woman was in the last picture.”
“Was she not a fellow of yours?”

Waroon and I both are a little surprised our junior remembered Sirivun clearly enough amongst the herds of intimates and foes. I suppose her visage was the clearer of the bunch.

“She was.”
“And she tried to turn us to something we were not; asking us to kill children because she judged the sex they were born as an inconvenience.”

“Are many of your fellows like her?”

“The few which were wayward, we corrected.”

“It seems you are the head of this flock.”

“I suppose we wer-”
“I suppose we are.”

“You kept them in check?”

“Someone had to. ‘A newborn with the undesirable sex may be purged.’ ‘I needn’t prevent conception when the means of abortion is ever within reach.’ ‘I ought to make well-known the means to know pregnancy at a sooner time.’ Shown any measure of clemency, those thoughts would deracinate the true road.”

“The true road - it was yours from the very start, wasn’t it.” Our junior dimly notes.

“Well.”
“Part of it came from agreement amongst ourselves.”
“But chiefly it was mine, yes.” After looking at her junior’s face for a moment she sighs. “Oh, child. Don’t misunderstand. Had they won out in the play the ‘true’ road would have been theirs to define.”

“That is what bothers me the most, senior. A roadway where ‘rightness’ is chiefly a matter of might and covenants are a passing thought. By your own standards, had I-”

She lowers her head and stops speaking for a moment so her voice does not waver.

“Had I not been there for you, senior, what would have panned out? Would you say the worth of senior Jiragarn’s way was less than that of Vanida’s?”
“You worry us sometimes, senior.” She gingerly brushes her fingers across Ging’s hair. “Who- or what truly keeps you in check, senior?”

“Beyond the teachings of the Middle Path, it would be our fellows, our intimates.” Waroon answers in my stead.

“If I were to ask Oubshei, Glar, or Id, would they know of this?”

“We needn’t tell our fellows every particular about ourselves.” Upon hearing her words our junior turns away as if presented with poison.

Our junior brings out a card from her purse and lays it on the table. One corner is bent and the ink has lost some of its blackness but it is unmistakably Kommgal Vunnapar’s trade card. With her middle finger she pushes it forth.

“I had a feeling.”
“Ever since Galpet was summoned here. The way he shunned the matter when I tried to talk to him about Kommgal Vunnapar.”
“You never thought him an intimate of yours, did you.”

“It is ill-advised to say you know him, child.” Firmness returns to her words as Waroon pushes the card back to her side of the table.“We all have our blemishes, hardships, particulars we wish to not speak of. Kommgal Vunnapar is very much alike in this regard. You think of him as spotless? Do you know how many times he looked the other way and let hurt befall men when it was convenient?”

Waroon takes a moment to slow her breathing and brush a thumb across her upper set of teeth. “Back in ’72 he saved Galpet from a house fire. He could have saved his mother, Amournnara, too, but claimed he was unaware of her presence.”

“I have heard about it.”

“Do you know the chief reason?”

“…”
“She sued him in the past for hurting the husband who struck her. The suit was costly and drove him away from his family and his home province.”

“That’s the commonly held picture.” I right away know what Waroon intends to say next and my hand goes to seize her arm.

Must we really speak of this, ma’am? I don’t believe Galpet wishes this to be shared. I push my thoughts to her.

We can’t afford to hide this. We’ve been truthful so far and hiding this will only weaken our case. Waroon assures me. With a sigh I weaken my grip on her arm and let her say her piece.

“But chiefly it was him knowing Amournnara forced herself on her child.”

“…”

“Finally got you to shut the fuck up, didn’t I.”

“It is ill-advised to presume our character, child. If we did not give a damn would this senior have entertained your questions for this long?”

“I don’t wish to be cruel, child.” Waroon claims. “But the chief reason I don’t listen to you is due to the fact your reasons are not sound. Two weeks have passed and I have yet to hear anything reasonable from your throat as to why I ought not to do what I did to shield you from having to bear an untimely child.”

“You say you are disgusted by such a road - yet I do not believe that to be the case at all.”

“Vanida got you through the door of your present station. She expelled another child more skilled but less well-connected than you from what would have been their rightful station. Why. Because her family had the will and the might to force upon the barbershop that choosing.”

“And since we are presently standing on the shoulders of this institution, let us speak of it: duelling. How many duels have you and your fellows have taken part in, remind me. And how many times did you have to pay the fees for breaking the peace, spent a night at a fool’s house -- or summoned to court at all? Did you think the station of your father as a peace officer had nothing to do with it?”

“At every turn, child, you’ve enjoyed the fruits of the self-seeking path. The least you could do is acknowledge it. Instead, you try to veil your disgust under moral concern and hurl it at us. So spare me the chicken shit.”

“There’s no getting through to you, is there, senior?” Our junior lowers her head and voice.

“You know what to do.”

“I must submit my claim to the higher court.” She wearily repeats the words Waroon had instructed her with a long time ago.

“Or make your present one more sound.”

“I think.”
“We both know by now that will not pan out.”
“I can’t let you denigrate yourself like this, senior.”

Ging and I both share a gaze.

“Second blood.”
“Saber.”

“Refused. The battlesword.” Waroon right away answers.

“I have only the long saber.”

“That’ll do.” Waroon says with such quickness it seems as if she knew what her junior’s words would be even before it even left her throat.

I collapse my veil and summon the teahouse attendant. This day got much longer.

Ging and I spent the better part of the day discussing the remaining particulars of the duel; the time; the place; and conduct during the duel itself.

“What about a double?” He asks.

“It ought to be the biggest bleeding wound, no?”

“In the unlikely case both wounds bleed equally, do we consider the bout void or..?”

“In the unlikely case they both bleed equally from a double, it will be considered void. In the very unlikely case it happens several times we’d abort the duel.” I try to make sure neither Waroon or our junior intends to prolong this duel by giving a blow without caring about being hit at the same time.

For a similar reason we agreed thrusts will be banned. Neither Vunnapar or Galpet will be there to glue back lungs or livers if they are touched by a point. We can’t chance our junior being gravely hurt.

A month quickly passed us by.

The south of Silverport was once home to many fisheries and salt fields. These days due to the foul waters they have shifted to the more inland part of the province. Only a handful of fisheries who grow equally tough eel for food linger here. The most common sight around dirt paths are empty fields and custard-brown canals. We needn’t walk for very long before seeing our juniors again presiding in the shadows of a large tree.

Ging and I talked to our better halves. Neither of them wished to take their words back. We both check the edges of the long sabers we brought and as expected they are only sharp enough to slice through a small bit of paper before the sword wrinkles it.

“This is a duel to second blood. As previously agreed upon, there are to be no thrusts, wrestling with two hands…” Ging again repeats the rules to the two before they begin as he holds the scabbarded long saber upright like a staff -- much like a judge of a fencing school bout.

I myself rest the barrel of her wax pistol on my shoulder.

We both lower our heads as the two undress. The last thing we wish is to wash blood off their clothes after stitching their wounds. The sun is hidden behind clouds and the large patch of dirt awaits the two.

With their clothes gathered and folded we let them attend to their weapons.

>Let Waroon stand her ground
you could have sat back and kept quiet on those matters and enjoyed their company like you did many months before. Suwunsingh notes.

I suppose I could. It would have been best. But we would have to keep denying ourselves for their sake.

does saying the truth comfort anyone besides the two of you?
This will be the last time I’ll see them. Suwunsingh guesses. It’s not a bad one.

I am well aware -- and I want our picture to be that of folk who are true to themselves and not some dog cunts who turnscoat on their own road when it is convenient.

[ Next Update: Deluge I ]

>Level the piece
Few would hear the shot. Fewer would know what it is. Fewer still would wish to wander to the spot it came from.

through this doing, you are betraying the very rule you instructed them and claimed you lived by. Suwunsingh makes me well aware of this fact.

Whether we continue with this bout or not it matters little; the company we once had will no longer be there. What is of mention is the only play to I can make; shielding Waroon from hurt.

she could bear the hurt.

And so could Baiyok.

[ skip Deluge ]
[Next Update: Epilogue - Like Poison ]

>>6455546
>Let Waroon stand her ground
If we're going to claim that might makes right, and that we are upholding any sort of honor, we can't take the easy out to avoid this test.

>>6455550
>Epilogue
already?

>>6455549
>Level the piece
yea lets wrap it up

>>6455580
Originally MoR was going to be the last entry IIRC.

>>6455580
Originally I wanted the story to conclude in the previous chapters thread. Didn’t have enough time for it before it fell off the board.

Since this is one the most important decisions in this thread, I’ll be waiting for a third vote for some time before doing a dice tiebreaker. Deluge-route epilogue is very different to LP epilogue.

>>6455547
>Let Waroon stand her ground
Let them fight without helping anyone

Voting’s closed. Deluge it is.

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Working on the update.
you won’t be fighting her yet. Not before a quick tutorial on the combat, anyway.

>>6455740
greatest tragedy of /qst/, you come in too late and now all the glory has passed and all quests are on part 100 and you cannot be bothered to read through the archives.

>>6456227
This is a shorter quest than most, with only two previous threads of relatively short length. it's doable.

Just checked.

Devil & Instructress is ~27k words
Monarch of Rape is ~40k words
Current FTC is ~5k words

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Sneak peek of what I’m working on.

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Deluge I

>Let Waroon stand her ground

A part of me wishes to present my piece and stop Waroon from bearing more wounds -- but doing so would mean backstabbing the very same instructions we have lived by and passed to our juniors. I cannot do that.

Neither Waroon nor I spent the past month idle. The fruits of our election will show itself soon enough.

(…)

“Right. Let’s see what we got here.”
“Hm.”
“Mhm.”
“Yeah, no.”
“I can see why you struggled fighting Asawin now.”

Sadly I can with confidence say her thighs are smaller and her bum flatter than it really ought to be. I say this (chiefly) because I worry for her in the forthcoming duel.

Fencing is hard on the body; increasing steps, gathering steps; transverse steps; passing steps; lunges both half and full; widening your posture to cut at the lower body; voiding a blow and giving one at the same time; these doings when repeated will in turn make the body hard. The leg muscles will be denser; the thighs will grow fuller; and the bum will swell to withstand the greater burden. I am not alone when I say a mark of a good practitioner of the Art of Defence is a plump backside.

“As if you are any different.” Waroon pushes my hand away from her leg and slaps the side of my thigh. I wouldn’t mind her doing it again.

“I’m not the one who will be fighting Baiyok in about three weeks.”

“I know.” Waroon sighs before helping me tie the rope to one of the tree’s thicker branches.

“This ought to do.”

Hanging from a tree is a staff with far too many nicks and cuts to be worth mounting a spearhead to.

After tapping the weak of her feathersword against her hand Waroon takes up her fighting posture and gives a cut to one side of the hanging staff. As one side recoils from the blow the other swings to her. Only after she catches the haft with the strong of the blade does she continue the assault.

I watched her for some time to see if she shows any discomfort in giving or catching blows. She does not -- for the first few minutes that is. Good enough. Exchanges commonly do not last for more than a few seconds; parries tend to collapse by the third or fourth blow.

We move onto the bind.

I have seen Baiyok in action and how speedily she can move. With the thrust off the table she may force Waroon into the bind on her terms and wrestle from there.

The sword may be chiefly divided into two parts: the weak and the strong.

The weak is the upper third of the blade; the easiest part to move and best to strike with. The strong is its opposite; the hardest to move and chiefly used to receive blows. As for the middle it is (as the name says) the midpoint between weak and strong.

Entering the bind weak-on-weak does not amount to much. With how speedily the blades can move it’s very easy to flee from the bind to strike elsewhere or knock aside the antagonist’s weak then cut without fear of a double.

Binding middle-on-middle is more common.

“Yes. Good.” The moment I try to strengthen my position in the bind by bringing my strong to her middle Waroon reels her blade back and hits me from the side I had left. “Again.”

“Yes.”
“That’s good.” When she does not feel much force in the bind Waroon right away shoots out a cut which pushes aside my feathersword and strikes me in the head. “Again.”

Binding weak-on-middle or weak-on-strong is the worst; in a blink of an eye Baiyok can safely strike whilst Waroon is busy trying to recover her blade. It is to be avoided at all costs though there are a few counters to it.

The easiest is retreating; stepping back to buy time to recover the blade.

“Like this.” As I retreat I lower my blade before flicking it back up; raking the bottom of her hand with the point.

“Does that not go against the spirit of the rule?” Waroon asks.

“I don’t believe so? We’re brushing the skin with the edge. The spot of the edge happens to be the tip of the sword.”

Admittedly this sort of blow is best with double-edged swords.

“In any case if you’re unsure you could cut elsewhere. This is one I really like.”

We begin from the bind again. I retreat the same way but this time I do not flick my weak back up; rather I release my other hand from the hilt and let the edge scrape against her calf as I leave the measure.

“That is a good trick.”
“…”
“Would Baiyok even want to bring her blade forward, though? If she can move at a much faster pace than I she might linger in a refused guard and try to throw an uncontested cut and leave the measure before I could retaliate.”

“That could be the case.”
“We could work on that next.”

We ran into a few difficulties.

Asking her to do deep lunges and give cuts to the lower body did not go well. Likewise was attacking whilst voiding a blow at the same time. Her knees are not in the best shape; she could scantly squat for more than a few seconds without feeling hurt.

“I have grown old. Haven’t I.” The giant thirty-eight years of age murmurs as she buries her head in my lap waiting for the soreness and stiffness in her calves to pass. A choosing of hers; amongst the many articles on her straw mat is a case of snake balm.

“Afraid so, ma’am.” I brush my fingers across the scalp of the miserly little thing. “We ought to remedy it soon.”

“…”
“Feeling better, ma’am?”
“Let’s get to it, then.”

An antagonist who keeps his blade further back knows his chief means of defence is space; if he is too close he will not have the time to bring his blade to bear before a blow hits him -- we can use this careful nature against him by drawing his counter out early or hiding how far we can reach.

Waroon and I take up our fighting postures; her resting her blade on shoulder and I keeping mine low and pointing to the ground.

She firstly tries to flick a cut at my right shoulder which I void with a small step backwards. I return to the measure with a lunge; turning my long edge up I throw out a cut aimed at the bottom of her hands. She pulls her hands back for a moment to void it and as I retreat and recover my blade from the missed cut she throws out a cut to my right arm -- her left hand leaving the hilt as the sword fully extends. The feathersword’s rolled edge lightly bruises the outside of my arm.

“Don’t go easy on me now.” She laughs as she returns her blade to her shoulder.

“I would never, ma’am.”

Our second bout begins much the same way; with me throwing a cut to the bottom of her hands and her voiding it by pulling her limbs back. She returns the compliment by trying to cut at mine from above which I slap aside with the strong of my blade.

With both our blades now forward I see a chance to expel her sword; I bring my weak to hers and start to slide my edge down her blade. The moment she feels force pushing down on her blade she disengages from the bind and goes to cut my arm from the other side. I raise my hilt and knock aside her blow with my strong.

As I do so she uses the recoil from my parry to bounce her blade down to strike my thigh. She hops out of measure before I could give my own blow.

Waroon is doing her work within the time I am doing my own and forcing me to bring my edge offline to give her an opening. This is good.

“Come on, Nin. ”

“Don’t push it, ma’am.”

Annoying your antagonist is one way of create openings I suppose.

I enter the measure by throwing a cut at her left shoulder. As it misses and my point drops to the ground I linger in this posture for a moment to see whether Waroon will try to attack me or not. She does not and I push my luck; after turning my long edge I rip my blade up to strike her hands.

The cut as expected is voided by Waroon pulling them back. As she starts to bring them forward again I push my luck a little further by lunging into her cut whilst throwing my own.

Loud ringing of rolled steel edges attest to the perilous spot we are in.

We bind strong-on-strong.

My sword is only a handful of inches away from the left side of her neck and likewise her sword threatens the left of my very own.

Retreating cleanly is off the table; we are in the measure of handwork and wrestling. One way or the other this bout will end soon. As uncommon as this sort of bind is she nevertheless ought to know how to win out in the play. Let’s see how well she can back up your words with might.

Using the spot our swords bind at as a fulcrum I begin to lower my point and turn my edge flatwise to cut at her upper arm.

As I make my play so too does Waroon.

>take with the strong and return with a head cut
As I am bringing the middle into play a quick slap from her strong can knock my blade away -- far enough that I will not have enough time to bring my sword back up and parry the cut to my head.

>suppress my cut from above whilst cutting at the crook of my neck
Since I am turning my edge flatwise it is easy for her blade to climb on top of mine letting her suppress my cut as she drops her edge onto the crook of my neck.

>grab my hilt and unbalances me for a slice
Her other hand leaves her hilt and shoots for my own. The moment she seizes my hilt she pulls it forward whilst pivoting on her right foot -- shifting her body away from my cut and pushing her edge to mine.

[ the correct answer will result in a clean hit for Waroon ]
[ the incorrect answer will result in a double ]
[ the worst answer will result in a clean hit for Nin ]
[ as always an explanation will be given once voting is locked ]

[ Next Update: Deluge II ]
fighting for real this time.

>>6458925
This one, I think? If it moves up, it will be her strong against our weak, which is... Good?

>>6458926
>grab my hilt and unbalances me for a slice
We got countered like this the other time around against vanida, so let her replicate it

>>6458990
Alright, changing from that to >>6459037
I am not HEMAnon

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Topdown POV of the choices

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>>6459037
Last time, Nin tried to hook his pommel over her neck to use it as a fulcrum but since she had her true hand in front of her face and ready for an attack to it she was able to catch his wrist.

>>6458990
Nin’s strong isn’t touching her weak at all. It’s HER strong pushing down on his strong. Seen here in this Nin POV.

>>6459109
I don’t think he is the HEMAnon. I’m pretty sure he’s the other guy.

By the way, HEMAnon did get the choice wrong in Do War IV. You should choose the choice you think is best.

>>6458990
I read this wrong at first but my point still stands.

Don’t worry about the weak at all, honestly. The swords are so long they’re not relevant in this situation.

In the drawings the upper portions of swords intentionally are omitted because they’d stretch past the characters by a lot.

>>6459229
>>6459232
Barring advice from a wider anon than I, AI think I'll stick with my support for >>6459037 but thank you for clarifying.

>>6459109
>I am not HEMAnon
I'm not him, but thanks for the support

Unanimous. Voting’s locked.

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>ANSWER:worst answer

During the first half of Deluge I Nin spends a considerable amount of time describing the bind and the anatomy of the sword - essentially, how leverage works depending on where the swords interact. The description of the correct and the incorrect choice alludes to exploiting this. In comparison the worst choice doesn’t get explained in any detail at all.

The second bout showcases the incorrect choice and its mechanics; Waroon wins by using the recoil from his parry to bounce her blade to Nin’s thigh. This only works because she is using his force to kickstart her own attack and there is enough space between them, allowing her to retreat before an afterblow comes. This is not the case for the third bout and it would have led to a double.

While suppress cut and grab hilt are both actions that work within Nin’s actions, which is what he wants Waroon to do, Grab hilt is the worst option for one very important reason - in the last paragraph of the update, Nin says he is tilting his blade down in order to cut at her upper left arm. By reaching forward with her left (other) arm she is moving her upper arm and elbow closer to his edge. In contrast, she doesn’t do that with suppress cut, the opposite, actually.

It’s understated but all of these actions are combined with footwork; as Nin is turning his edge horizontal to cut at her upper arm he is pivoting on the balls of his front foot further to his right to accelerate his action; and Waroon is moving to her right to buy herself more space between his sword and her body. With the grab she’s grabbing first then moving but with the suppress she’s moving immediately as she pushes that cut into his neck.

>>6459532
Of course it's the worst option. Man, we we've been on a losing streak on swordplay for a while now so I think I'll just wait for hemanon to tip us next time around 'coz I give up playing rock paper scissors

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>>6459532

It is your choosing.

For what it’s worth, I’d say the second most important choice in this quest lies in the epilogue, right after Deluge. I would worry about that more.

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Deluge II

Using the spot we bind at as a fulcrum I pivot on my front foot and turn my edge flatwise to cut at her upper arm. As I lower my point Waroon’s other hand leaves her hilt and shoots for my own.

“Ughhhhhhhhhh.”

Waroon complains as my edge presses onto the outside of her upper arm and elbow whilst her own cuts only empty air.

“Too bad, ma’am.”

We find ourselves back at our mat following the bout’s end. A dejected Waroon sits with her head lowered and arms loosely resting on her thighs as we go over the choosings within the bouts; which to shun; which to take in its stead; and which she did right.

“Aw. I think you did great, ma’am.” I brush my fingers across her scalp and play with her tails as I comfort her.

“…”
“To be frank, that wasn’t a bad play. Had I not dropped my point the blade would not have been close enough to press the arm.”
“You’re doing -- trying to do -- your work within the time of mine. That is good. Baiyok will be able to do her work at a faster pace than you. Every vantage you can get will help.”
“And speaking of her pace.”

“Hnnnngh.” Waroon shoves her head into my palm dreading the last bit of training she must do before we can retire to our house.

She cannot match the pace of a giant who is about twenty years her junior. Not in a month. Or a year for that matter. But shortening that gulf even by a little helps. That is to say: jumps, lunges, and (short) runs.

“You’ll bathe me.”
“And cook for me.”
“I want. Two egg yolks in my noodles. As little whites as there could be. More duck. And duck fat. And chilli.”
“And mango sherbet.”

“Yes, ma’am.” I bend down a little to kiss her forehead.

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How quickly those days passed us by. I’ve played my part the best I can for the past month. All I could do now is to watch as the fruits of our doing show itself.

“… a violent push, eye-gouging, arm-breaking.”

It did not take long before my ears stopped listening to Ging as he recited the agreed upon terms of the duel; the only important particular was the shunning of thrusts.

“That expression.” Her fingers curl around my chin and summon my mind back to the present.

“Doesn’t really suit you, Nin.” The bare-skinned Waroon places her dress in my hand and draws the long saber from the scabbard my other hand holds. Seventy inches of steel never felt so tiny.

“Don’t let me get backstabbed, ya?” She rests a hand on my head.

“Sure, ma’am.”

As Waroon and Baiyok take up their positions on the barren soil so do we; forming an egg shape with the two women facing each other at the long side and Ging facing myself at the wide side so we as seconds may easily judge what pans out.

“You may begin.” With the raise of the long saber scabbard Ging declares the start of the first bout.

The two slowly approach each other with short steps; Baiyok keeping the hilt nearly pressed against her waist as she advances whilst Waroon keeps her blade low and near the ground -- both refusing to bring their blades forward until they find themselves at the right measure.

Our junior is the first to lunge and very deeply she does; throwing a rising cut aimed at the outside of Waroon’s front calf. She kicks her leg back in time to void the cut before dropping her edge on her head.

The dull clack of steel biting steel firmly chides Waroon for not voiding and attacking in the same motion -- giving Baiyok enough time to recover her blade and bring it to protect the top of her head. With her cut accounted for Baiyok pulls her edge back and throws forth a cut of her own though not before Waroon hops out of measure.

As I had feared our junior can move her body far more nimbly than Waroon; in a blink of an eye she can lower her stance and stretch herself so widely it was as if she turned into a spider. The speed she can recover from it is equally scary. I breathe a little easier only after seeing Waroon keeping up with her.

After an exchange without any edge licking skin the two lingered near the edge of each other’s reach for some time; advancing only to throw out a flick cut at the closest limb to their blades and right away retreating when the blows are parried or voided.

Once it becomes clear quick single-intention attacks do not work the two bring their blades forward and in motion more often to veil the true angles and timing of their strikes.

Our junior is the first to find an opening; as Waroon’s blade slows down she knocks the weak aside with the weak of her very own. As Waroon’s sword recoils to the right Baiyok runs to her left side with her sword extended seeking to push the edge onto her left arm.

As Waroon pivots to face her she slips her other hand from the hilt; throwing out a cut which would have scythed through our junior’s calves had she not stopped her advance. By the time it was safe to advance again Waroon had already recovered her sword and left the measure. Much like Vanida our junior briefly and violently shakes her head when the exchanges prove unfruitful.

Waroon enters the measure again by throwing a downward cut at her junior’s weak but before the swords could touch Baiyok reels her blade back behind her denying the knock and lifts her hilt above her head. Waroon brings her hilt up in a similar fashion but keeping her edge in front; well-prepared in covering her head when that edge comes back.

The loud crash of our junior’s wheeling cut against the strong of Waroon’s blade makes evident the steadfastness of her parry and Waroon immediately reels her edge behind herself to power a cut. As the sword completes the circle shaped motion Baiyok has already brought her own strong before her head waiting for that edge to fall on her.

Right before that cut strikes our junior’s sword Waroon slows it down and strongly drops her point -- bringing that edge between her legs. She steps back as she brushes it against the inside of our junior’s right thigh and gets away before the compliment could be returned. Not a moment had passed since the retreat did blood seep from the blow and Ging calls for an end to the bout. The soft crackle of teeth brushing against beads comes from behind me as I rush to check the wound.

what a tyro. Suwunsingh rightly notes the presence of the junior we haven’t seen in some time. But as her appearance is presently not very troublesome I elect to push that thought to the back of my mind as I check the wound.

The bleeding waned after what must have been two or three minutes and we decided to continue with the duel.

Seeing the wound on her front leg Waroon tried a few times to strike at the lower body and the arm which hovered near it again and again. It didn’t really pan out as her light-footedness remained intact.

The same cannot be said for Waroon. The speed she moves from one posture to another is starting to wane from all the lunges advances retreats attacks and voids she is forced to do.

With the two at a standstill yet again Baiyok is the first to change; releasing her other hand from the hilt and seizing the middle of her blade in its stead. She slowly approaches her blade held slightly above her thighs as if an oar and her posture a little wider than before.

‘Half-sword.’

The hand position where the main hand remains on the hilt whilst the other seizes the weak or in this case the middle of the blade. By assuming this position the sword’s reach is shortened but its precision and strength is largened; able to precisely and firmly place thrusts; hook limbs and aid in wrestling; and block downward cuts with the area between her two hands.

With that being said its vantages can be quickly inverted; by releasing the other hand from the blade she could throw out a cut with more reach than one given in two hands.

Looking at the way our junior is creeping up towards Waroon; her wide stance and blade lingering a little above her thighs; it forms the picture of someone seeking to throw out a sweeping cut to the calf again -- but knowing how nimbly she can move I don’t know what sort of play is on the table and judging from the way Waroon cautiously keeps her blade forward neither does she.

In a blink of an eye our junior hops into Waroon’s measure. It’s time.

>fail-cut to fingers and cut to new opening
The greatest weakness of assuming the half-sword position is how easily the fingers may be struck since they are further forward. It’s not impossible to block a cut; by tilting the blade and changing the angle a blow may be knocked aside but that is a bigger motion than a parry in which both hands remain on the hilt.

By intentionally provoking the parry and moving to the side our junior had moved away from Waroon may find the opening she needs.

>leg void and head cut
The greatest obstacle of any strike to the lower body is the space between it and the attacker’s shoulder the which tethers the hand and consequently the sword. By lowering the shoulder to where the spot is more reach can be gained without leaning forward and exposing the head to the antagonist more than necessary. I have no doubt in my mind our junior could do such a deep lunge -- she already did at the first exchange.

And like the first exchange voiding the leg and attacking at the same time is the remedy.

>throw a one-handed cut as she retreats
The greatest weakness of any one-handed strikes with a two-handed sword is steadfastness; if parried the blade will recoil more and recovering it quickly may prove troublesome. Retreating as this sort of strike is thrown will give more time to recover the blade. By releasing her other hand from the hilt and lowering the point Waroon can scythe our junior’s calves forcing her to stop the advance or be cut.

[ Waroon will win the duel if she cleanly gives a blow. ]
[ Baiyok will need to win an additional time if she cleanly gives a blow. ]
[ if a double occurs, a 2d6 will be rolled to decide the result; biggest bleeding wound loses. ]
[ 1-3: minor wound ]
[ 4-6: moderate wound which will affect the practitioner’s dexterity in the next bout ]
[ losing cleanly will not be as injurious as losing via a double. ]

[ Next Update: Deluge III ]
[ Next Chapter: Epilogue - Devil and Instructress ]

>>6461135
>fail-cut to fingers and cut to new opening
Maybe?

>>6461135
>fail-cut to fingers and cut to new opening
I'm going with the safest option

>>6461138
Btw, had we won or at least doubled the last time, what difference would it make here ?

>>6461219
None. That was a training environment. The choices were there so you could familiarize yourself with how combat works.

This is the real deal.

Locked.

ANSWER: correct!

As the fight goes on I have given a few clues as to which choice is correct.

During the first few exchanges, Baiyok tries to overwhelm Waroon with speed. When that didn’t work, the two switched to feints and second-intention attacks which worked out in Waroon’s favor. After getting a hit in, Waroon goes back to overwhelm her with quick, single-intention attacks which didn’t work since the injury didn’t affect her that badly -- implying a second-intention attack could work again.

Another fact that is repeatedly mentioned is Baiyok being far more athletic than Waroon. Throughout the course of the fight she is shown doing a deep lunge and recovering from it quickly. The latter part is very important for her offense.

In the last post, Nin details the strengths and weaknesses of halfsword position - among the benefits are wrestling, hooking limbs and the ability to block blows with the surface area of the sword between the hands. These are what her attack actually hinges on; bringing her sword up in time to catch a blow as she gets close so her shortened sword has the advantage in maneuvering.

Had Waroon voided the leg and dropped a cut on her head she would have played right into her hands and lost cleanly.

Had Waroon thrown out a one-handed cut of her own as she retreats Baiyok would have voided the cut before running in. At that point, it would have been a gamble whether Waroon can recover her sword back in time and cut her before Baiyok could get close enough to push her edge against her body. Normally Waroon is quick enough that this isn’t an issue but with her growing more fatigued this is now a possibility.

Anyway, with Waroon winning a very interesting choice has been unlocked in Epilogue - Devil and Instructress. You’ll be seeing that soon.

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Deluge III

>fail-cut to fingers and cut to new opening

In a blink of an eye our junior rises from her sunken posture and likewise does her blade as she runs forth. A cut is thrown at the hand holding the blade but as she turns her sword to catch it Waroon pulls her edge back before dropping it onto the crook of her neck -- using that spot as a fulcrum to push our junior away as she moves further left.

Baiyok hisses as the edge rakes the skin and Waroon slips away out of measure.

“I’m calling it.” Ging steps forth and thrusts the long saber scabbard between them like a fence.

Following the end of the bout Baiyok kneels down so we may get a better look at the wound.

“Yes, it fuckin’ hurts.”

The chief wound is the cut on her neck whose length is about the span of my hand. The breadth is about the distance between the top joint of my thumb and the fingernail.

The wound would have been far more grave had Waroon kept dragging her blade across her neck instead of keeping pressure on the spot and then flicking the edge against skin as she pushed her away. Since she can move her shoulders and neck albeit with some discomfort her muscles and nerves are probably in good shape. Given how dense the neck muscles and bones of giants are I doubt she will need more than a handful of stitches. For now pressing a kerchief on it ought to be enough.

Aside from the neck wound there are a few small nicks around her collarbone and the outside of her upper right arm. I could scantly see where the wounds were after the blood was wiped off. We could afford to speak with her for a little while.

Once the two dressed themselves and sweat is wiped off the blades I give my address.

“I advise you to show yourself now, junior.”

“There was a moment when your hand wavered, senior. You were willing to bring that barrel against her.” Coming into view with her vizard in hand is the junior Unshun.

Had the beads been less loosely threaded I might have not heard her teeth rattle against it. Too bad.

“Yes.”
“There was.”
“And I have elected to let the two settle the matter -- as agreed.”

Her gaze does not turn any more gentle.

“Baiyok was wise to bring you.”

‘I’m proud.’ were the only words which could not leave the back of my throat.

“You… uhhhhhhhh, might have forgot about someone.”

There is no mistaking that sharp and piercing voice coming from the barren fields. The large serpent pokes her head from one of the equally barren ditches and quickly approaches us.

After looking up at the coiled serpent and seeing the dust and dirt staining her emerald colored scales I ask. “How much did she pay you to crawl around that shithole.”

“Ehhhhhhhhhhhh. Not much.”
“I’m only really here ’cause I wanted to see Yok whip her in a fight.”

“since when did we surround ourselves with such unwholesome characters.” I quietly lament as I turn away.

“What a backstabbing cunt.” Waroon isn’t very pleased about it either.

“Uh.”
“Yeah, I think- I will bow out now.”
“Uhm. Yok?”

Baiyok extends an open hand. ‘In a minute.’ She all but says.

The serpent crawls away her scales loudly brushing against the coarse stone and dirt road. The bothersome sound fades from my ears soon enough.

“I take it there are no more of your fellows hidden in canals and trees?” An annoyed Waroon says as she adjusts the sleeves of her dress.

“No. My family- and hers and hers would kill me if they saw our doings. I have a hard enough time having supper with them.” Ging lowers his head.

“That’s good.” With a nod from her I retrieve the contents of my coat’s inside pockets. Some were bone. Most were wood. Carrying them all was quite the inconvenience.

“Jiragarn and I myself have been meaning to give you this.”
“We-”
“We won’t always be around to shield you from hurt.”

especially after the way things panned out between us. is the part which never quite left her lips.

“How many did she have?” Unshun holds a necklace at eye level. The handful of penis fetishes rattle as she moves them around.

“Her two necklaces amounted to thirty-eight though some were bound to her.” Waroon says as she helps Baiyok tie the kerchief to the wounded spot on her neck.

“What will you do with the rest?” She asks.

“Probably donate them to monasteries. They weren’t hers to begin with. Or sell them to folks interested in the Free Arts or the past, I suppose.” Waroon claims whilst leaving out the part where we hoard them so in an unlikely case we need it we may quickly raise a body of well-armored fighting men. “Speaking of the which, if any of your fellows are the sort—”

“That’s low, even for you, senior.” Our junior droops her head. She has heard too many older women beckoning her and her folk to buy their wares this week.

Seeing her like this and Ging trying (and failing) to tie the fetish to his breeches remind me a little of those older and carefree days we once had together.

“Would you mind if I gave some away?” Baiyok asks after staring at the necklace we gave to her.

Waroon remained silent for some time before she realized her intentions.

“You’re thinking about his family, aren’t you.”

She lowers the hand holding the necklace. “Achirawit was without doubt a fuckin’ cunt and a coward amongst cowards for trying to strike Ging when his guard was down, when the entirety of the province was watching, when the lord of our province was watching, when his very own grandparents were watching.”
“Him being snuffed out like that- that was cruel. He didn’t deserve it.” Her brows twitch as she thinks about the limbless state we found him in.

“But that was long ago.”

“I’m more interested in his folk, now. They didn’t need the entirety of the province bearing down on them because their sub-race of a child fucked up. Repeatedly. Irreversibly. Unrepentantly.”
“As far as they know, he abandoned his station as their child. I’d like to put this to rest.”

“They may shun you. And curse you for your part -- or what they believed to be the fruit of yours.” Waroon gives her own advice on the matter.

“Yeah, probably.”

“Yet.”
“You wish to?”

“I- I do.”

“Alright.” Waroon lowers her head and laughs for a moment before resting a hand on her not wounded shoulder.

“Wowwwwwwwwwww~ What a heroine.” Ging throws his head and hands onto her thigh. Had she been any smaller he might have thrown her to the ground with such a doing.

“Yeah, yeah. Shut the fuck up.”
“Besides. There’s no way I’m carrying all this heavy shit.” She tries to veil her true intentions behind self-seeking. It’s not very convincing.

“Awwwww~ I think you ought to. Look at how many of these she carried. That’s probably why her muscles got so large.” He pokes at the many penis fetishes near her calf. His interest is not without reason as they are the largest and finest of the bunch.

“They’re not that large. Dense? Sure. I wouldn’t wholeheartedly call it that.”
“Besides.”
“She probably glued it on.” Baiyok lets go of her necklace so Ging could check it more thoroughly.

“Glued it on?!?” His head recoils as if it was violently slapped.

“She glued two pairs of arms to her sides. Why would she not glue more muscles to true self?”

“Because that adds more weight without meaning? How are you going to use them without nerves? That’s like- that’s like having a wasp sting your cock so it would look larger!” He does make a good point.

“She didn’t make her breasts larger, did she?” Unshun asks.

“…”
“I think—”

Baiyok opens her mouth to speak. She quickly closes it.

“I- uh. I don’t think I ever got a good look at them. When I came onto the scene she was on the ground and mounting him so you’ll have to ask him.”

And I think it is time we bow out for today.

She has a good head on her shoulders. Waroon chuckles before resting a hand on my head and pushing her thought into my mind.

If she keeps doing this she may lose it. I give her my own.

Probably. She does not refute it in the remotest. she really is your junior, isn’t she.

for better and worse.

This laughter will not last. I know it. Though we have settled this matter it is clear the thoughts which guide our doings are not alike; there are truths we hold to be self-evident which she is unwilling to agree with. Our roads will separate soon enough owing to this and the nature of their stations. With any luck he will marry the two soon and they won’t have much time for us then -- though I have a feeling these youths will be alright even without us in the picture as often.

We ought to leave before the clouds part and the sun blackens our skin.

Is there anything else I wish to say to these youths?

>write-in

[ Next Update: Epilogue - Devil and Instructress I ]
with her demons defeated, it’s time for him to confront his own.

>>6462204
>Stay true to your path but do nothing which you can't take back, unless you are willing to live it it.

>>6462202
>“She didn’t make her breasts larger, did she?” Unshun asks.
Asking the important questions
>>6462211
>+1

OP ?

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>>6464371
I am working on it. Just a little busy at the moment.

>>6464402
Lol too true. I'm glad Baiyok didn't die. Waroon I can take or leave

>>6464402
Thanks for notifying us

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Update should be out tomorrow evening. Meanwhile here’s a sneak peek. It’s the other big choice of the quest.

We’re up!

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Devil and Instructress I

With some convincing from my juniors I entertained what they asked. Her breasts were middling in size. Likewise for her teats. And hips. I’ve seen better. I’ve had better. Though I must admit rows of darkened spots around her breasts and waist were a little cute. Vanida herself would look quite handsome had every time we met she had not every intention to kill me.

We talked for some time before a lull presented itself -- which we took as an opening to bow out.

>write-in

In a few more years the space between our stations will widen and the picture of these youths will no doubt grow foggier in my mind. I ought to say my piece now and not at a later date when our bond is further strained.

“Hei, junior?”
“It is good you keep true to your road.”
“But don’t stake your life and limb over everything, alright? There are some matters which are more trouble than it is worth.”

Without thought my lips frown a little as I recall the many difficulties which blighted Vunnapar for placing himself between Amournnara and her cruel husband; how quickly his province shunned him for inconveniencing the whole; the many moons he spent wandering the country seeking work; and the nights spent repenting through bloodletting. That’s not a picture most folk are willing to repeat.

“Right.”
“I’ll keep that in mind.”
“Senior.” Baiyok slightly lowers her head.

“…”

“See you.” With a somber voice she says.

“Be seeing you, senior.”
“See ya, senior.” Her two intimates soon join her in waving us as we take our leave.

We did not hear of Paixarn his fellows or the golden child again by the year’s end. If they yet live I doubt they have any interest in us or our youths.

There were some report of Achirawit’s parents donating the fetishes to a monastery before rain season though we did not bother to look further about their reasons or the particulars of the happening.

I did not see Galpet again in the province. I later learned some of his students were fined and those we could not pay spent some time in the fool’s house for loudly playing music at night -- and one family chose to sue him. According to his letter he won the suit. We added the name of the lawyer to the list.

The last I heard of Kommgal Vunnapar and likewise instruments of the crown they were in the tributary kingdom of Thanee mending the relations between their queen and our monarch. Given the seven-day war in ’77; the previous queen’s passing in ’78; and the aborted war in the very same year the broadsheets’ claims are probably true -- but knowing our monarch I guessed another reason they were stationed there was to advise the southern tributaries against following her in rebellion again.

As if that cool-blooded man hasn’t troubled us enough.

Kommgal Vunnapar was there twelve years ago when he moved to kill his ten-years-old nephew and form the new dynasty following the previous monarch’s passing. I saw the same picture when he declared my forebears turncoats and burnt the colony of the folk who once helped the country earn its skill to selfwield.

A flock of unruly mussulmans at his front and him at his back. What a dreadful station. I ought to buy Vunnapar some amberwater the next time I see him in this province.

With the passing of the year of the serpent comes a new year; the year of the tiger; the year of ’84. A lively time for many. A time for merit-making; a time to be with intimates and fellows; and a time where slaves are given respite without terms or released from the industry for those who have fulfilled their contracts. It’s also a time where children get themselves into trouble for losing their innocence or fingers at night; and when fraudsmen appear to take advantage of kindhearted folk.

“You may appear freely”
“You may speak freely.”

A moonless night is a time when curses are at its deadliest; when spirits are at the peak of their might; and when evil is best expelled.

The faint smoke of burning incense sticks and weakly lit candles makes him appear in our drawing room soon enough.

Gittipud Suwunsingh removes the wide brimmed straw hat from his head before he joins us on the mat; sitting with his weight resting on his toes. His coconut brown skin partly hidden by a shirt which looks about as pale as I remembered a sarong with a dull red-and-blue plaid. A sash of waning black joins the two articles.

Yosavarid and Vuttana appear beside him shortly after. They are laid out like dead gnats.

“They mean no insult by this, I take it?” Waroon tries to veil her discontent. Her huff makes it hard.

‘Their faculty was exhausted a long time ago. I don’t even remember the last time I talked to them and a one or two word answer was not what I got in turn.’
‘They appear when they are summoned and do so with all their limbs intact and their skin unshriveled -- is that not enough?’

“I suppose that will do.” With a little reluctance I accept the present picture.

‘You mean to free me?’

“I intend to free everyone.” I add. “I have thought about it for some time.”
“Recent happenings have made this choosing an easier one to make.”

There is some hesitation before Suwubsingh speaks again.

‘You will be weaker.’

“That is true.”
“Without you and your folk at our beck-and-call Waroon and I cannot wantonly vanish from the eyes of folk. Nor can we do the same hurt without subjugating more of the senses.”
“We will have to make trades and give offerings to the spirits like the rest of the practitioners again.” A little annoyance slips through my words.

“Nin myself would not say we are defanged, though.” I rest a hand on my nape. My fingers slip down and brush against the necklace and its fetishes.

‘I don’t see any vantage to be gained from this.’
‘…’
‘There-’
‘There isn’t, is there.’

He is sharp. I expected no less.

‘May I ask why?’

>Because I could.

“I discarded moral law in favor of rule of might a long time ago. I raped and killed you and your folk for a cause no less noble than yours -- I held myself to that truth ever since.”
“There is as much meaning here as there was binding you to myself in ’73.”

‘Is that not quite a sad picture? Living life under a fleeting want?’ Suwunsingh pushes his luck by asking that in front of Waroon.

“How important is reason, really, when the fruits of such elections are the same.”

‘You haven’t changed much, have you.’ He tries his luck again and I rest a hand on her arm so she does not try to seize him by the hair.

“Mayhaps.”
“What about you. Would you have made that same choosing twelve years ago knowing the fruits of your efforts?”

‘…’
‘I don’t quite know.’

I expected about as much from the child.

>Because it was wrong.

“Slaves at the least get to see their families during new years.”
“I kept you inside me since when I was twenty years of age.”

I rest a hand on top of Waroon’s. “By all accounts I- we were not good masters.”

‘The aches and sores will linger for some time.’ Suwunsingh lowers his head as he lists the inconveniences of having spirits bound to our bodies for so long.

“They will.” She nods in return.

‘…’
After thinking about her intention for some time he finally asks. ‘Is this your way of repenting?’

“It’s a way for us to end this matter.”
“We don’t care for any forgiveness or vengement.”
“You may go -- but if we see you or your fellows molesting us or fellows again there will be hurt.”

[ Successfully defended the right for their road to exist under the highest court. ]
[ Rule of might adhered to. ]
[ SPECIAL OPTION: UNLOCKED ]
>Because Vanida is far greater a servant.

“We’ve been meaning to purge you for some time now.”
“From what I’ve heard you went against Nin at every turn and only when the probability of you being stuck inside a corpse looms over you is when you try to shield him.”

“Her on the other hand.” Waroon closes her eyes for a moment and turns her arm. Vanida rushes to the vein like fish seeing bread being cast into water.

‘Do you believe she will not do the same given time?’ He asks.

“One soul dedicated to turning against me is far easier to bring to heel than three or seven.”

‘…’
‘Will one be enough?’

“How nice of you to worry about us, child.” Suwunsingh notes what Waroon does not mention and ceases speaking.

[ Next Update: Epilogue - Devil and Instructress II ]

the last choice of the quest!

>>6466870
>Because Vanida is far greater a servant.
Mystery box has my attention