The Emerald Wind slogged up the last rise to where the stakes stopped and the two brothers waited, their swords drawn. Dull steel in dull hands made for a poor defence. Along with a nearly empty camp. Cho was beginning to reconsider the idea that she might not make it out alive.
"You're dead," the two brothers said in unison as The Emerald Wind approached, their voices so similar they sounded as one. Both faces held the same look of utter confusion.
The Emerald Wind stopped in front of the two brothers. "Do I look dead to you? Either of you? What about you, Tuntun? Do I look dead to you?" He was almost shouting and his voice was attracting attention. Two more of Flaming Fist's men appeared from around a tent and stared towards them. Cho stopped behind The Emerald Wind, her left hand pulling Peace's saya back a little, her right sitting on the hilt, ready to draw and strike all at once.
"No." The fat bandit's jowls shook with his head. "But… You have to be."
"Why? Because Kui said so? Kui just wanted you to think that so he could steal my fucking rings." The Emerald Wind waved a hand in front of Tuntun's face. "Where is the thieving little toad?"
"Who?"
"Kui!" The Emerald Wind shouted. "Little bastard with a nose that looks like it was squashed onto his face."
The brothers and the fat bandit shared a look. They were blocking the entrance to the camp, and Cho counted four more bandits, all armed, moving their way. "How many of your people are left?" she asked.
"A couple dozen," said Tuntun, leaning around The Emerald Wind to ogle her. "Only ones ain't deserted. It's not the like old days anymore. Who are you anyway?"
The Emerald Wind glanced back at Cho and Ein then and Cho saw in his face he meant to betray them both. It was in the way his eyes passed over them, not even acknowledging he had seen them. "I have no idea, feel free to kill them." He might have been their superior in life, but now The Emerald Wind was only mostly alive, and the men of Flaming Fist's camp had seen him die. They didn't move.
Ein stepped up beside The Emerald Wind and touched his hand. The man jumped backwards, a haunted grimace on his face. Cho was certain then that he felt the same thing she did when touching the boy. He felt the same empty, sucking void.
"You are bound to me," Ein said as he fiddled nervously with his little red scarf.
"What's that?" asked Tuntun, echoed by the brothers. The three guards stared at Ein.
The Emerald Wind glared down at the boy as though he were some sort of monster, fear incarnate.
"What do you think will happen if I die?" Ein continued. "What do you think will happen to you?"
For a moment the guards and The Emerald Wind stood almost still, staring at Ein. Beyond the tents, Cho could see the bandits' reinforcements readying weapons and turning towards the camp entrance.
The Emerald Wind sighed. "Shit."
The Emerald Wind disappeared, blown away on the breeze. The bandits in the camp were rightly shocked, but they had little time to react. Almost as soon as he vanished, he reappeared behind the lookouts and drove the spiked hilt of a sword through the back of Tuntun's neck. He used his other sword to hook one of the brother's legs, and pull him off his feet. Cho stepped into the skirmish, drawing Peace and cutting one brother in half before reversing her grip and driving the blade down into the other brother's heart. Two more souls taken by her sword.
Shouts of warning erupted from the tents. Four more bandits charging at them, and more still stepping out of tents. The Emerald Wind pulled his sword from Tuntun's neck and let the quivering body fall.
"Never liked the bastard, always so proud of his silky blonde hair."
Cho glanced just once at the fat body. "His hair is grey as a rainy day."
The Emerald Wind shrugged and disappeared on the breeze again, and reappeared next to the four bandits charging them. He kicked the first to the ground, and then hooked the second's blade away before slashing the man's ribs. Cho rushed to close the gap. Peace danced left, parrying a blow, before she stepped in and drove the sword through the bandit's chest. His wrinkled mouth worked open and closed as he died, blood dribbling out and down his chest. Cho stepped away, withdrawing Peace from the body and flicking the blood clear.
Another bandit rushed her, screaming and flailing with two knives, each curved and serrated. Cho took two steps back, her sword stance changing with each step, before the man made the mistake of overcommitting to a thrust. She ducked the wild lunge and brought Peace down in diagonal arc across his body. The bandit toppled, screaming, as one of his legs fell away and blood gushed out of the wound.
The Emerald Wind cut a swath of sliced flesh and severed limbs through the attackers. His hooked swords slashed open one man's belly, and then pulled the legs out from under another. Then he hooked them together, swinging them around his head in a wide arc that left three of the slower bandits with slashed faces. And every time the bandits thought they had their former comrade, he vanished, leaving behind a fading image of himself. The bandits were neither smart enough, nor quick enough to understand what was happening, and many of them died each time The Emerald Wind reappeared. Cho saw him do it time and time again, yet still she could not fathom how he managed such a trick. But then, The Emerald Wind could not set a blade humming with just a whisper, to cut through metal and flesh alike. They each had their secret techniques.
Half a dozen more bandits joined the fray, and yet their numbers dwindled. The Emerald Wind showed no remorse or hesitation cutting down the men he had so recently fought alongside, and proved more than capable for the slaughter. Cho backed him up everywhere the battle moved, stepping in to engage and distract, Peace moving in practised slashes. These were no legendary warriors, just hardened thugs, flailing about with weapons they didn't understand. They didn't stand a chance, yet they came on regardless, driven by fear or bravado.
As Cho weaved through the slaughter, limbs and bodies falling with every step, she noticed Ein following them into the camp. He threaded between the fallen bandits, blank eyes staring into the faces of the dead, then flicking his gaze back to her and The Emerald Wind. He seemed at home there, amongst the dead. She lost sight of him as she turned to meet another bandit, lunging in close enough that she could smell his rancid breath and feel the heat of the body as it slid away from her blade.
"WHAT IS THIS?" The voice was a roar of power and fury, and all the fighting stopped, as though all the those locked in this battle to the death were actually just naughty children caught by their parents. Even The Emerald Wind stopped mid-swing, his opponent visibly exhaling with relief.
Flaming Fist was standing under the awning of a giant tent, a look of pure rage on his face. He looked older somehow than the last time Cho saw him in Kaishi. There was more grey in his hair, and more wrinkles on his face. Atrocities could do that to a person, whether they were committing them or just witnessing. They could age a man unnaturally, and Flaming Fist had undoubtedly committed many atrocities at Kaishi. Nevertheless, he still stood tall and straight-backed, and his very presence seemed to command authority. Cho could easily see why other men followed Flaming Fist, even knowing the sort of evil he was.
Cho saw The Emerald Wind take advantage of the distraction, moving quickly and burying the spiked hilt of one of his swords in the forehead of the last remaining bandit. Unless there were others hiding in their tents, only Flaming Fist remained. Cho knelt down and wiped Peace on the tunic of the man she had just killed.