An army marched up the sloping hill, from this distance, seemingly at a crawl. An army! Mags thought, wanting to scream or hide or run away. Anything but stand here and watch it come on like a tide of death. A real Rift-cursed army! What am I doing here?

  “First and foremost, Marigold, you are here to learn,” Yuze said beside her, seeming to read her thoughts as he so often did.

  The old man wore his usual robes. Leaning on the shoddy old walking stick, he appeared anything but intimidating. She couldn’t imagine how he’d fight with that thing. It stood less than four feet tall, and though she could attest it was strong enough to raise welts, Mags doubted it would last a single blow against a shield, let alone a sword.

  Mags blew out a breath she’d unwillingly been holding onto. “Think it’s better to say survival comes first and foremost. Not sure about you, but I don’t fancy becoming one of them ugly bastards. Look at them! All creepy and gray and—ow!”

  A stinging welt rose from the exposed skin above her bracer. Yuze chuckled and set his cane back down. “Hush. You sound like a mewling child. Your priority is to learn. The next tier requires courage, Marigold. The Second Principle is quite literally not for the weak of heart.”

  She rubbed at her arm and looked sidelong at her Kiyashi. For some reason she couldn’t fathom, he was about to deliver a lecture. She felt it like the gathering of rain clouds—Yuze was going to teach her the next principle she’d need to master, and he was going to do it here and now on the field of battle.

  Only when she’d found stillness did the old monk speak again. “The Second Principle is this: governance of one’s fear is the first step toward victory. Think on that, Marigold. Not to conquer or master your fear, but to guide it, control it.” Yuze groaned and stamped the ground with the butt of his walking stick. “Ardean common speech is crude. So little can be translated efficiently. In the Unbound Realm, hundreds of Sects can be found. Each Sect follows a unique path. Each has a philosophy that informs this path and shapes their Cultivation. When you agreed to follow me, you joined a Sect of two, a Sect that was once vast and powerful. Its name is Dominion of the Flowing Storm.”

  Horns blared, rising from the countless ranks of the enemy. The closer they came, the more distinctly Mags could make them out. Thousands of Druskin marched beside beasts of every kind imaginable. Dust rose from their passing, and it gathered in a gray haze that obscured the rear of the army. Mags’ heart pounded frantically in her chest, but she held on to every one of Yuze’s words. Dominion of the Flowing Storm, she thought. Beautiful and strong. Why couldn’t he have told me this yesterday, though?

  Yuze pointed at the snarling face of their enemy. “Ferocity can be potent! The storm is fierce, is it not? Yet what happens when one cannot guide the storm clouds? What if one encounters another more powerful? The philosophy that guides Dominion of the Flowing Storm can be summarized in a single word. Zhinquan. The term comes from the Hong Shan Province of the Unbound Realm and translates roughly to self-governance, agency, control. All three of these words combined are required to explain Zhinquan effectively.”

  “So fear is one factor a Cultivator must learn to control,” Mags said, linking the lecture to the Second Principle.

  Yuze hummed in appreciation and bobbed his head. “Precisely. Now, Marigold, let us test ourselves. We must ask, how much control do we possess? Will the fear win out and break us? Will we lose grip on the howling winds of our storm? Let us find out.”

  With no further explanation, and no thought spared for the oncoming army, Yuze dashed away from the Haikini front line. Mags gaped at the old man’s back. Feet bare and armored in a faded brown robe, her Kiyashi’s madness came into sharp relief.

  “Wait! Kiyashi, what are you doing?”

  Panic rose within her, threatened to overcome her faculties and render her weak and helpless. Her mind spun as she tried to imagine what action might be fitting for such an absurd and unhinged moment. Surely she couldn’t follow. Could she?

  Cold sweat beading her brow, hands trembling, Mags gripped her bow tightly, nocked an arrow, and ran in her teacher’s wake.

  Mags hurried to catch up with Yuze. The old man cackled in delight when he saw her. This did nothing to alleviate her fears. Not in her worst nightmares could she dream up a more horrifying scenario. Thankfully, Yuze stopped a hundred feet from the first rank of Druskin. “Ah, I see I still possess a disciple! Well done, Marigold. But do you see their faces? They are enraged. All demons and those that flock to them are prone to losing themselves in anger’s hot flames. Our foes are powerful and yet completely lacking self-governance. What silly fools.”

  Mags held her bow before her, eyes flicking right and left across the enemy line. She didn’t know where to attack, or even if she should.

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  “What is our goal in this stage of the battle?”

  Mags blinked, trying to engage her mind. “I… We’re to pretend to engage them in earnest, only to withdraw tactically soon after the armies make contact.”

  Yuze nodded. “Many will be lost if we allow things to flow as they might. Would it not benefit the Haikini cause to guide our enemy’s hand?” A stray arrow flew at Yuze’s head, and without a second thought, he smacked it from the air with his stick. “You and I are but two in a sea of combatants. The Dominion of the Flowing Storm Sect can serve most effectively by defeating the enemy’s self-control. See that group of archers?”

  Scanning the left side of the front rank, Mags found a throng of Druskin archers. They hid behind a row of Graysoul bears trudging uphill at a steady pace. She nodded.

  “Let us strike our first blow there. Follow close behind, and when I give the signal, make use of that bow of yours.” Yuze thrust his open palm at her, and strange symbols appeared in the air around her. They shone with the white of essence before fading. “That should do,” he said before swatting three more arrows from the sky, then dashing toward the archers.

  Mags scrambled after, praying to her gods to be spared in this madness.

  A great horn blared three times, and the Druskin forces stopped their advance. The muted cry of a Druskin warrior could be heard, and then a volley of arrows filled the sky like a flock of birds. Mags tensed, convinced her death had already come. Yet the arrows flew up and over her head. The Druskin are ignoring us, she realized. Guess that makes sense. What threat could two mad idiots pose against that horde?

  The clamor of arrows crashed into Haikini shields behind her. Shouts of pain accompanied the primal song. Before a second volley could be released, Yuze fell on the first enraged bear to stand before him.

  Her Kiyashi had taught her little of combat. Since she’d begun with a foundation of swordplay and hand-to-hand fighting, he’d decided to focus exclusively on other, more fundamental skills. Yuze had trained her balance, her focus, and her control of essence most of all. Mags thought they’d have had more time to learn actual fighting skills and techniques, anything that might increase her prowess in battle, yet here she was feeling anything but prepared. Facing so many, her enchanted bow and her brother’s shortsword seemed pathetic and insufficient.

  Yuze extended his arm, and the walking stick transformed. It stretched to six or seven feet long, revealing its true nature as a sleek bo staff shimmering with the pure white of the Pristine Flame. A bear rose up on its hind feet and slashed at the old man. Yuze’s form blurred, then the beast was shattered, its arm folded in two where the staff connected. The bear’s left leg buckled inward at the knee a moment later, and then its head was cracked open like a gourd.

  Mags drew her bow and stared in awe at the devastation Yuze wrought upon the enemy. He’d dismantled the hulking creature in the blink of an eye. Three more bears fell just as quickly, and then he was among the archers. The Druskin howled their outrage. None were prepared for a direct fight, however, and they broke like a stand of saplings under the harsh winds of a storm.

  “Now!” Yuze shouted from within the enemy ranks. “Slay their leader, Marigold! For he is the one that guides them!”

  She spotted a tall, gaunt Druskin in the center of the formation. He was shouting at his archers, directing them to attack Yuze. She didn’t give it a second thought. Taking aim, she released an Arrow of Rending. A heartbeat later and the side of the Druskin’s head parted in a spray of blood.

  Yuze thrust his staff in the air and laughed. “That’s it! Now, let’s see what else we can do to blind them!”

  Her Kiyashi evaded several arrows before laying into the Druskin forces once more. He slaughtered everything in his path as he left the archers behind to carve a path toward the opposite side of the army.

  Mags went to work with her bow. Arrows and javelins flew toward her, but every time they came close, an invisible force diverted them. Yuze’s technique, she thought as she targeted another tall wolf kin shouting orders. When will he teach me this? Damn convenient, that would be.

  A minute passed as enemies died at a horrifying pace. Briefly, Mags wondered if Yuze couldn’t simply kill them all himself. Everyone had limits, though, even this ancient madman that had chosen her. He emerged again, his face and robes miraculously untouched by blood or gray slime. In fact, her Kiyashi was smiling pleasantly, his eyes bright and lucid.

  Yuze ran up the slope and waved her on. “Come! We’ve done our work, Marigold. Let’s pull back and observe the outcome.”

  She staggered after the monk and ran at his side. A volley of arrows hissed behind them, and Mags turned in horror to find these were in fact aimed at the two instigators. She tensed and waited for the invisible barrier around her to shatter. Yuze didn’t spare a glance. He flung a hand back casually, and a wave of energy splashed against the arrows. They landed upon the grassy slope to either side of Mags and Yuze, sprouting like stalks of wheat. Soon, they’d reached the Haikini, and both she and Yuze were greeted with shocked stares and whispers.

  Yuze paid their allies no mind. He merely assumed his accustomed Kiyashi stance by leaning on his walking staff and folding his opposite arm behind his back. “See now? How fearsome this foe! How plentiful and strong! Tell me, though, young Strongtower, how long will these demons survive now that they’ve lost all sense of control?”

  And she saw that it was true. What had been an orderly advance had been thrown into disarray by Yuze’s antagonism. The archers fired without coordination. A contingent of Druskin warriors charged ahead of their companions only to be greeted by Haikini arrows. The warriors in the middle of the front line had stopped altogether, seemingly waiting for someone to tell them what to do.

  The Haikini rained death down upon the Druskin army. Arrows, javelins, and stones hurled by slings felled hundreds. Soon they would recover, Mags knew. Far too many of their foes had yet to take the field. More importantly, far fewer of their allies fell in the initial charge.

  Yet despite all odds, she had indeed learned a lesson. One she would never forget.