Chapter 4
Immortals and Saints
Dodge to the right. Dodge to the right. To the right.
Hari spent the rest of the afternoon obsessing over this thought. She prepared for the fight against Gojo, refining what she knew, replaying her techniques in her mind. Today, Hari’s style was a mixture of the Fist Maker’s teachings and the form Alin used. Hari was still breathing as Alin said, feeling the warm sensation inside her, burning and driving each of her strikes.
As night approached, she needed to have a conversation with Kara. The girl was crying and Hari found out that she just had her first period. So it was up to Hari to explain everything that was happening to her body. Kara made some ugly expressions, screaming that this was unfair. Hari agreed, but things were like that.
When the same thing happened to Hari, she remembers threatening to destroy the Alcove, kill the gods, and get revenge on all the women before her who didn’t get rid of that curse. Back then, Hari was so jealous of the boys who didn’t have to go through the pain, that she punched some of them just for existing. She smiled at the memory. Compared to her, Kara was handling it very well.
Strangely, Kara’s conclusion was that she would never marry. Hari took the moment to explain the same things to Lin, because when the same thing happened to the girl, Hari wouldn’t be here to help her anymore. Lin… didn’t handle it as well as Kara.
“Is that why Kara was bleeding?” Lin’s expression was a mixture of disbelief and denial.
Hari nodded. “Yes, but don’t worry. You soon get used to it.” she said, but she wasn’t used to it herself. Hari believed that if she kept pretending to get used to it, at some point her brain would believe it too.
“I don’t want to get used to it. I want to get rid of it. Is there no way to just rip it off?” Lin said, increasingly agitated in her gestures.
“If there’s a way to get rid of it, I’ve never heard of it.” Hari said, playing with the girl’s brown hair. Lin’s desperate reaction was amusing in Hari’s eyes.
“By the goddess, I’d rather die.” Lin concluded, her gestures taking on increasingly exaggerated proportions.
“I don’t think the goddess can help you with that, Lin.”
“But she is a goddess. Shouldn’t she help us girls even more?”
Hari pondered for a moment. She didn’t even believe in the existence of gods, so she never thought about the implications of a helping goddess. That seemed even more unlikely when she looked at the state of the world. If there were gods, they were sadistic lunatics. “It doesn’t seem like the gods really care about us.”
Lin was silent, a thoughtful expression. “Is that why the Immortal is coming to the Lakes Region? Because the gods don’t care about us anymore?”
Hari grabbed Lin by the shoulders and glared at her. “Where did you hear that?”
Lin flinched. “In the city, while me, Yaozu and Kara were playing detective. There were two bearded old men screaming in the middle of the street. They said the Immortal would come to the Lakes Region.”
“How were these old men dressed?”
“I’m not sure. They had white and gold dresses and a weird hat. I have never seen such an ugly outfit.”
Hari shivered. Saints.
Hari opened the Fist Maker’s office door with a bang. “When were you going to tell me?” she asked, her voice carrying a natural command.
The Fist Maker seemed unfazed by the intrusion into his office. He remained seated at his desk, dealing with some paperwork. “I didn’t know Yaozu couldn’t eat dairy.”
Wait. What? Yaozu can’t eat dairy?
Hari sighed in relief. The mystery had been solved. Last night they’d had cheese soup. “Zu is better now. I’m here to talk about the Saints. Did you know they were in town?”
“Y-yes.” he said, expressionless.
“Have you heard about the Immortal’s invasion?”
“Y-yes, I heard. W-what do you want?”
“Shouldn’t we get the kids out of here and evacuate the Alcove?” Hari worried about the veracity of the appearance of two Saints. The Saints were heralds of the Kingdom of Hyperia. Although the Lakes Region was not part of the kingdom, they still sent Saints when troublesome news broke.
If beasts were gathering at the borders, Saints appeared. If floods or natural disasters occurred in nearby regions, Saints appeared. So they should expect that the same would be true if an invasion was on the way.
“N-no. T-they’re just rumors. W-we shouldn’t worry.” he replied and continued to write something.
“Rumors from Saints? Why would they do that?” Hari saw no advantage in the Saints or Hyperia, causing panic in an unimportant region. The Lakes Region was one of the few places that were still independent. Much of what was the ancient Eight Kingdoms today was part of the three great empires — Nansshu, Hyperia, and Rarik.
But independence came with a price. A price that Hari knew well. In the end, the Lakes Region was still under Hyperia’s rule, if only partially. The place was just a warehouse for slaves, war orphans, and clandestine businesses. Or, as many liked to call it, the dumpster of Hyperia.
Often, the nobles of Hyperia departed from their homes to have nights of debauchery in the Lakes Region. Many of the girls who started out in the Pit made money by serving Hyperia’s visitors with their bodies. Hari had been invited to such services, which she promptly turned down.
Thanks to the poor laws and the abandonment, it was easy to do anything here, if you had the money. Including exploiting children in combat displays.
The Fist Maker sighed, stopping his writing. “T-the Saints always do the same. T-two years ago they said that an army of beasts was heading to the borders. G-guess what? N-nothing happened.”
Hari felt a vein pop on her forehead. “Nothing happened because Hyperia protected us, not because the beasts wouldn’t come.”
“S-so you have your answer. Hy-Hyperia will protect us again, as always. W-we have no reason to worry. E-evacuating the children will only get me into trouble. S-some of them will fight in the Pit today. And that includes you.”
This time it wasn’t beasts, it was the Immortal’s army. What if Hyperia did nothing? Hari trembled, feeling her memories darken her mind. “We cannot be at Hyperia’s mercy. We have to protect the orphans at any cost.”
The Fist Maker stood up, leaning on the table. “They are mine. I own them. I decide what to do with them, not you.” he said in a somber tone. “B-but I know why you’re looking for pointless arguments. Y-you don’t want to fight tonight.”
What was he talking about? Did he think that was the reason? “I just want—”
“Y-you have no right to want anything.” he walked up to Hari, approaching her for a whisper. “I bought you. I pay for you. J-just like all of them, you’re mine, Wancheng Hari. A-and since you all owe me for the care I’ve taken with you, no one will go anywhere until I allow it.” he took a step back. “And I say that today, you’ll fight Gojo whether or not you like it.”
His words just proved to Hari that he didn’t really know her. Hari wanted to fight and win more than anything. Still, she prioritized the safety of the orphans. Still, he wanted her to lose. But the Fist Maker couldn’t be changed. He was an old man with his own ideas about how he should live. And old men lived at the most stubborn age of all.
You can’t teach an old monkey new tricks, as the saying went.
If she couldn’t count on the Fist Maker to help, she would do it herself. Fighting Gojo.
