Benzhi began to meditate, hoping that being vulnerable like this would not go bad. He could not move, it had taken all his willpower just to remove the sword from his torso, the damage done, by the sword to his insides, was lethal.
It was a risk, and he could have let Gisael stay, but there were still two Blackcloaks left, so it was out of the question. Benzhi's mind began to wander. The pain was stopping him reach the meditative state he was aiming for to begin the ambitious task of qi healing his insides. 'Was this really a simulation,' he contemplated, his mind wandering. He had stopped thinking of it as a simulation long ago. Only every now and then did he recall the real world and that was only usually connecting to something from his past. He couldn't recall the last time he checked his stats. He couldn't imagine an existence that Gisael, Reyas, Ailen etc were not real people. He fought for the Forest initially because of his vow, but it had gone well past that. He was now taking on the mountain people as his own. He even cared if Ulfgrim lived or died today, he really did. But what if this was only a simulation and it ended today. Oh gawd. He didn't even want to contemplate that.
Benzhi snapped out of it. If he did not concentrate on the task at hand he would, at best be back on the gurney and at worst...dead. His qi was awfully low, too low to complete a healing like this, but Benzhi had a plan. He had saved half the qi stored in the shield, he had never tried to tap it before, but there was no teacher better than utter desperation. Benzhi reached out to the qi in the shield, the same way he did when storing, but this time he gave it a tug instead of pushing a stream into its lines. It didn't work. Benzhi panicked for a moment.
He made another attempt to pull the qi back into his core. It wouldn't come, wait... a different approach was warranted. Benzhi had used the stored qi many times to qi strike when shield bashing. Instead of pulling the qi into his own core Benzhi attempted to use it directly to qi heal.
'If at first you don't succeed, cheat,' Benzhi thought to himself as the qi streamed from the shield into the patterns of stitching and sprouts. He needed more of these qi batteries they were priceless in such times of need, Benzhi contemplated as he used qi techniques to fix the damage he knew how to fix. This was only a small portion of all the damage, at least the severed muscle, blood vessels, and organs could be stitched and some reconnected.
After completing what he knew, Benzhi moved on to experimentation, testing by trial and error. He really should get a pet troll, stab it, and study what it did, that would make things so much easier, Benzhi half joked to himself when he failed another attempt to repair what he thought was his pancreas or kidney. It did not help that his medical knowledge was the level of a high school biology student. 'But if it was broke, all he had to do was put it right, he didn't need to know what it did or what it was called,' he speculated.
Now even the shield was running low on qi, Benzhi had done what he could, he had repaired much of the damage but it was nowhere near troll standards.
Benzhi opened his eyes and stood. Turning around, surveying the battlefield, the first thing he noticed was there were more corpses than people standing. What made him smile was there seemed to be more Gaels than men from Vaugend still standing. And of those men from Vaugend, an increasing number were starting to run away, in each and every direction. Benzhi searched for Blackcloaks, he could see four lying in the snow, and he could not find the fifth. Gisael was easy to find, she was busy dispatching the men who weren't running which meant the fifth Blackcloak must have been dealt with. 'How long had he been out of it?' Benzhi pondered.
Benzhi saw a Redcloak running with a noble, only a hundred paces away, at a guess that noble was Master Gilford. He could not see anything urgent to deal with, Benzhi decided to run down the good Master. It did not take him long before he planted himself in Gilford's path. The soldier charged Benzhi as Gilford's eyes opened in recognition.
Give him credit, Master Gilford tried to save his man, calling "Halt." But it was too late, Benzhi stunned the soldier with his shield and stabbed the Soldier through the neck in the moments following the call. It was the head redcloak guard as well, Benzhi recalled the fellow from their meeting.
Benzhi pointed to the sword belt at Gilford's hip, "you better drop that." No literal threat was necessary.
Gilford complied in haste, he looked different, less, when terrified. "Good." Benzhi said calmly, "stop panicking, I have a use for you. Do as you're told and you will live. Now follow me." Seeing no alternative Gilford hung his head and did as requested. Gilford was probably a master merchant and well versed calculating the right path to success and in this case, success was living another day.
"For your safety," Benzhi stated as they walked back to the main scene of the Battle, "do not make any sudden moves. Just follow, as you are." They went a few more steps. "Pretend you are in chains," Benzhi added, nodding.
Within an hour the battlefield had been cleared of enemy combatants, there were a few in running in the mountains, who would not be difficult for the Guardians to deal with before they made it a day. All the Gaels and Guardians gathered in the centre, started to burn the bodies of the fallen, enemy and comrade. The looted equipment from the enemy was piled high off to the right. They had taken a dozen prisoners out of three hundred souls. One of which was the Duke, who was alive, albeit with two broken arms, a broken leg and several broken ribs. It was amazing he was even alive. After all the immediate housekeeping was taken care of, a meeting of the leadership began. Benzhi had stopped issuing orders outright and wanted everyone to have a say, at least nominally, on what happened next.
"First item," Gwaflathri called acting as speaker, "the ex Duke."
She pointed at the sitting form, who was in obvious pain. "Ye have several options. Clan Chiefs what do ye suggest be done?" Gwaflathri saw no reason to list any transgressions, they were all aware.
The response was unanimous from the other Clan Chiefs. "Death," they each said. Benzhi could tell even if she asked every Gael they would say the same.
"No use delaying the matter then," Benzhi saw no reason to ask for the Duke to be spared. He predicted there was zero chance that the Duke would not remain an evil bastard if left alive. Benzhi lopped off the Duke's head. It was not difficult as he had been stripped of his armour and wore only a large cloak.
"Next item, the rest of the prisoners, soldiers and nobles," Gwaflathri asked. She received blank stares and a few calls for Death. It seemed the Gaels were not bloodthirsty, for the sake of it. They viewed the battle as a battle, their men had died with honour and the Duke, who was ultimately responsible, had been punished.
"I may have a solution," Benzhi volunteered. All eyes turned to him.
"A treaty, with an Oath from all the nobles," Benzhi offered. He was not sure the nobles would not go back on their word, he had a plan to trick them into holding their oath.
"Aye, ye have me support," announced Ulfgrim, "do what ye think is best." The other Clan Chiefs nodded as did most of the Gaels.
"Good, thank you." Benzhi gave instructions to have the nobles separated and some of their blood spilt into a bowl that was brought from the men's equipment.
"You will swear; not to come North, nor West from Vaugend, unless it is to trade or peaceful talk with our folk. You may only travel, send soldiers or do business south and east with freedom. The other lands are ours. All holdings in these areas now belong to the Fae and Gaels. If you do not hold true I will use the forbidden qi technique to boil your blood. Would you like a demonstration?" Benzhi asked the nobles. There were four, including Master Gilford who owned the redcloaks. There were the green-cloak, purple-cloak and yellow-cloak lords still alive amongst the nobles.
Benzhi received several shakes of their heads as an answer. Each noble vowed in turn. Benzhi then theatrically drank some of their blood in turn and announced ominously, "it is done."
The Gaels looked on in awe, they had no idea he was lying through his teeth.
"Last item," Gwaflathri announced, "what is to be done with those on the run." She looked directly at Benzhi.
Benzhi shrugged. "You deal with it as you see fit, they're on your land."
The Clan Chiefs had already agreed to split the armour, weapons and belongings equally. They offered the Fae their share, which was declined. The Fae had no need and lost no warriors. The Gaels had suffered, losing fifty-six men out of the one hundred who began this war less than a week ago. The Duke's armour went to Gwaflathri's Trovas Clan who had lost the most men. It was given to her bravest warrior, whom it fit comfortably, a Gael named Skanvord. Benzhi chuckled, Skanvord the Haven keeper was a good man. Skanvord had taken down one of the Blackcloaks, with the help of the Guardians, in the icy slopes to the west.
Before sending them on their way, with enough food and clothes to allow them to survive, Benzhi had a quiet word with the nobles, ensuring they understood clearly what their surrender meant. He did not care how they governed, he did not want everyone in Vaugend to die either.
Before they finished their talks Master Gilford expressed concern.
"I will follow my oath until death," Gilford prefaced, "but Vaugend is a part of the Kingdom of Loctris. Ye will need to be talking to the King or his steward. We," he said indicating himself and the other nobles, "cannot make a treaty, only our own oaths. And.." he paused extremely nervous, "you killed the Duke."
Another noble volunteered, the Greencloak lord, "the Duke died in the battle. The one we lost." Master Veda offered. All the nobles nodded.
Benzhi sighed. "I will visit Loctris." He stopped pointing at each noble in turn. "I expect you to write letters and do everything in your power to assist your oaths. If I deem your actions inadequate..." Benzhi made a motion of slitting his own throat.
The nobles nodded feverishly. Benzhi was satisfied the threat from Vaugend was at an end. Men were greedy, men would take if they were allowed. But these men valued their lives above all else. There was no point in being wealthy if you were dead. After witnessing the defeat of five Blackcloaks and the Duke, they had no reason to not believe he could kill them easily. With that thought, a question came to mind.
"Where do the Blackcloaks come from?" Benzhi asked.
"Loctris," the four nobles said in unison.
Chapter end
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