Zhao Yun (2)
Ever since I had recruited someone entirely unexpected in Bing Province, I had lately sensed that something was, ever so slightly, different.
How should I put this, exactly?
Right — that was precisely how I should put it.
The atmosphere had turned... strange.
And the reason I could tell was none other than this—
“...”
“...”
Whenever Zhao Yun crossed paths with another general, the air between them turned odd.
It wasn't the veterans ganging up on the newcomer, mind you. Our faction had few generals petty enough for such behavior, and the handful who were would tuck their tails and glance nervously my way the moment I so much as shot them a warning.
The foremost example of that latter sort was Lü Bu.
'Lü Bu. Didn't I tell you not to look at people with those eyes?'
'Okay, okay, I'm shorry——!!'
There was something about the sight of Lü Bu, cheeks stretched in my grip as she pleaded her wrong, that stirred a distinctly sadistic pleasure in me. Was I really supposed to call that befitting of Lü Bu? Somehow it felt as though she alone went out of her way to pick precisely the misdeeds that would earn her a scolding — surely not on purpose...
At any rate, setting aside the likes of Lü Bu, no one in our ranks hazed the newcomers. So what, then, was so strange?
Just... something. A feeling, nothing more. Go ahead, ask me what nonsense that's supposed to be — but it truly was like that.
“...”
See for yourself: even at this very moment, Zhao Yun, on her way down the road, had just come face to face with a general. No sooner had they met than the two of them locked gazes, and that peculiar atmosphere formed between them once more.
So who was the general now standing opposite Zhao Yun?
“...”
Azure eyes in a shade strikingly close to Zhao Yun's own. Jet-black hair — a color so rare even in this land of China that, save for those of imperial blood, one scarcely ever saw it. And only one general in our entire faction wore hair long enough to nearly sweep her heels, gathered up and bound in a high ponytail.
Guan Yu — Yunchang.
A woman of stern visage and a woman of glacial calm stared, unblinking, into each other's faces. That the mere sight made for a painting in its own right was thanks, of course, to the beauty of the two women involved.
Watching the scene unfold, I could not suppress my bewilderment. It genuinely wasn't hazing, and yet... what on earth was it?
“So, Sister Yunchang — what'd you think?”
Zhang Fei, her crimson eyes a vivid contrast to Guan Yu's, asked.
Guan Yu answered in the same even tone she always carried.
“She has mettle about her. That much is certain.”
“Right?”
Zhang Fei — who had crossed paths with Zhao Yun even before Guan Yu did — bobbed her head in vigorous agreement.
“Stacked up against me, she seemed maybe a hair short. But even that much is saying something, y'know.”
“...”
The tone was pure, uncut bragging — and yet Guan Yu, who knew exactly what Zhang Fei was capable of, could not refute a word of it. For in all the world, save two alone, there existed no general one could definitively name as Zhang Fei's superior.
One was Lü Bu, hailed as Peerless Under Heaven. The other was Seo Yeo — the general who never left the Grand General's side.
Even when sparring against Zhang Fei back in Luoyang, Seo Yeo had merely handled her at half measure — and that alone had been enough to astonish Guan Yu. She had watched only briefly, and from afar, but she could tell: that bodyguard's martial art would find its equal, across all of past and present, in one person alone.
The Hegemon-King of Western Chu.
A figure who, even in a history crowded with heroes, had ascended to a height no other dared presume to approach. Her savage temperament drew no small share of censure, but judged purely on the craft of winning battles and the weight of her martial might, none could offer a dissenting word about her.
If Lü Bu was one whom no soul alive could stand against, then the Grand General's bodyguard was one whom no soul — the past included — ever would.
“Mm. Someday I should like to cross blades with her, yet the chance never comes.”
At that, Zhang Fei tilted her head and picked up the thread — and it seemed her competitive spirit had been thoroughly provoked, enough that Guan Yu saw fit to rein her in.
“Do not act rashly. This is a time for mending the damage done.”
“I know.”
Zhang Fei answered, disappointment plain in her voice. They had succeeded in repelling the tribes' invasion, but the Bing Province garrison that had stood against it had paid dearly — and so now came the task of recruiting soldiers all over again and training them from scratch.
Guan Yu and Zhang Fei turned their eyes to the same place at once.
“Hey, boys. Man, it's been a while, hasn't it?”
“...”
There stood Lü Bu, the Sky Piercer Halberd slung across her shoulder, grinning wide at the Black Mountain bandits. Memories of the training she had once put them through must have come flooding back, for every face among them drained to a sickly shade of blue.
Lü Bu shrugged.
“Well, it's not like I hold a rank high enough to bother overseeing piddly little drills anymore...”
“...”
“But seeing as Jeong Reung put in a word for you, I'm gonna run you nice and ragged.”
At her words, the Black Mountain bandits groaned inwardly. Jeong Reung — Hwahyeon. A truly admirable lord, one who had taken in what was once a mere rabble of bandits and even helped their families put down roots. And yet, at moments like this, they couldn't help resenting him just a little.
'Hey. Remember this one thing, at least.'
'Training is a real pain in the ass.'
Words once tossed out in a playful tone by a seasoned veteran they had gone up against during the joint training. And now, at long last, the Black Mountain bandits felt the truth of that soldier's heart down to their bones.
“The hell are you all doing?”
Lü Bu flashed the bandits another grin.
“Run.”
“GYAAAAAH!”
As Lü Bu descended on them with murderous cheer, the bandits — hardened men and green recruits alike — broke into shrieks and ran their hearts out.
“Watching her work never stops being fascinating.”
Zhang Fei remarked, eyes fixed on the spectacle.
“She really does drive them right up to death's door, every single time.”
“Attend to your work.”
“...Got it.”
Catching the first frosty glimmer seeping into Guan Yu's gaze, Zhang Fei made herself scarce with practiced speed.
The general who had appeared as if from nowhere in that perilous hour — when the nomadic tribes swept in without warning — and delivered Bing Province from ruin. News that she had pierced the enemy formation single-handedly and sent their chieftain fleeing was more than enough to set alight the pride of every general under the Grand General's command.
CLANG——!!
“Ngh—?!”
Zhang Liao deflected a spear that came flying for the exact gap in her guard, a groan slipping from her lips. To any observer, it looked as though she had only barely shed the blow, and the onlookers nearby made no effort to hide their astonishment.
“General Zhang Liao... driven back...”
“Good heavens. Where in the world does the realm keep finding generals like her?”
The soldiers were stunned, certainly — but most astonished of all were Song Xian, Wei Xu, and Hou Cheng. That trio of musketeers had spent their days in Bing Province getting hammered black and blue by Zhang Liao in the name of martial training, day after day after day, so their reaction was only to be expected.
“If that were us, we'd be dangling from the trees like fruit again.”
“...Don't even bring it up. Just remembering it makes me feel wretched.”
Hou Cheng nodded along as he spoke, and Song Xian answered in a voice gone utterly deflated.
Through my head, unbidden, flickered images of the trio as they once were — knocked skyward by Zhang Liao's blows, flat against the dirt one moment, sprawled limp and dangling from somewhere or other the next, just as they themselves told it.
'Ulp!'
'Ack!'
'Gahk!'
I could only marvel at how they managed to make even the sounds of taking a hit so distinctive.
Even as I mused on this, the duel had yet to end. Her opponent, Zhao Yun, sent her short hair streaming as she pressed hard upon Zhang Liao's crumbling stance. Zhao Yun carried, unmistakably, but a single spear — and yet the spears hurtling toward Zhang Liao seemed to number at least two or three.
It was like watching the yun of her own name — the cloud — a phantom that would scatter into wisps the moment a hand closed around it. Yet every one of those seemingly multiplied spears possessed true substance; they only looked that way because the speed of her thrusts was simply beyond belief.
KAK-KANG!
“...!”
Zhang Liao turned aside Zhao Yun's strike, eyes flying wide, and gave back several paces. Zhao Yun was formidable in her own right — but Zhang Liao, who kept turning aside that murderous barrage, was every bit her equal.
And Zhang Liao was not merely absorbing blows, either. Having given ground, she set her crescent blade moving along directions no one could predict. One moment it seemed she would thrust right — and the blade came soaring up from below; the next, a sweep toward the left — and a stab at the legs came flashing in.
Zhang Liao's strikes traded their targets freely mid-swing, her weapon changing course as though it had a will of its own. I couldn't begin to say how such a thing was possible, but she had opened a genuinely masterful war of nerves.
For an instant, even Zhao Yun faltered before the unorthodox assault — but after turning aside a few strikes, her calm settled back into place. Then, a short while later, she revealed something astonishing: just as Zhang Liao had done, she began weaving unpredictable, irregular attacks of her own into the exchange.
KANG! CLANG!
“...Huh?”
Bewilderment crept into Zhang Liao's voice. From that point on, the momentum passed wholly to Zhao Yun — one side raining down a merciless, one-sided storm of offense, the other doing everything in her power simply to keep it at bay.
SHIIIING——!
At last, with a tremendous crash, Zhang Liao's guard broke wide open.
“...”
“...”
Zhang Liao looked at the point of Zhao Yun's spear, halted a hair's breadth from her side, and smiled.
“You're strong, aren't you?”
“As are you.”
Watching that heartwarming sight of two warriors acknowledging one another, I gave a slow nod.
Yep. This really is a wuxia tale, through and through.
