[ The better sword hand should lend himself as shield and armour, bear the burnt of blows. It is known — Lan Wangji was born to that truth, raised spare to his brother's beauty, a contingency, planned. He slaughters without shyness.
Before them, the swirling chaos of undead rising, clawing each other, learning their walk. Advancing. At the back shore, behind them, the farmhouse ravenous: its smoke stings, coming down Lan Wangji's lungs. Blinds and settles, crisp-brittle, flaked on his cheeks.
And then there is the man, Beitang Moran, his — visionary talent fruitless, but his sword skill fair, earning his keep. They've progressed too far past their fellows to do anything now but step further. Up the hill, then, to where the dead rider and his keep watch.
If we take him out —
Carelessly, Lan Wangji had thought the same as Beitang Moran, rushed to equal conclusion. And yet to hear it scratching another man's mouth now, Lan Wangji stutters to standstill, halts, blade Bichen haggard at his side. ]
...and if Unhalad's control breaks only to see them run rampant?
[ If the creatures' wilderness stokes for their new freedom, if Unhalad alone tethers them to a modicum of discipline? Can they withstand the undead still, if they turn aimless, feral? If they abide strategy now, it is not one predictable design, this much is certain — but if they abandon even that conceit? ]
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Before them, the swirling chaos of undead rising, clawing each other, learning their walk. Advancing. At the back shore, behind them, the farmhouse ravenous: its smoke stings, coming down Lan Wangji's lungs. Blinds and settles, crisp-brittle, flaked on his cheeks.
And then there is the man, Beitang Moran, his — visionary talent fruitless, but his sword skill fair, earning his keep. They've progressed too far past their fellows to do anything now but step further. Up the hill, then, to where the dead rider and his keep watch.
If we take him out —
Carelessly, Lan Wangji had thought the same as Beitang Moran, rushed to equal conclusion. And yet to hear it scratching another man's mouth now, Lan Wangji stutters to standstill, halts, blade Bichen haggard at his side. ]
...and if Unhalad's control breaks only to see them run rampant?
[ If the creatures' wilderness stokes for their new freedom, if Unhalad alone tethers them to a modicum of discipline? Can they withstand the undead still, if they turn aimless, feral? If they abide strategy now, it is not one predictable design, this much is certain — but if they abandon even that conceit? ]