The Tiny Emperor's Great Wall (Revised)

Chapter Fourteen

Shinko read over the letter a third time as his medic tended to his wound. Taking shelter in the bottom of the castle, he avoided the worst of the attack. Bombardment from above cracked large chunks off the castle. One of them had cut deeply into his right shoulder, so he needed stitches. As he sat on the floor, he could feel the tugging of the needle and string through his flesh. Annoying, but hardly painful. It was better than when one of his soldiers was crushed under a boulder. The note in Shinko's hands helped distract him.

Then came the unexpected attack from below. Long after the mountain crews had refocused their fire, the castle walls started collapsing on his troops. At first, he dismissed it as simply a weakening of the structure. This castle was made to distract rather than to endure. Then a corner of the tower collapsed. Stone shards scattered across the floor. Thankfully, the room was mostly empty. Aside from him and some guards, the castle housed few people. Only cannons and soldiers occupied parts of the wall.

"A group of earthbenders is causing havoc," said an incoming messenger.

Shinko nodded dumbly as he studied the report in his hand. The report was on General Fenghua, and it disturbed him. A friendly fox had just walked over and dropped it at his feet. At first, he thought the fox to be an intelligent kitsune, but when it disappeared he knew this was more.

Nature's Engineer, mused the general. No wonder we're having so much trouble. We expected a last-ditch effort, and the Emperor pulled out his last trump card.

Not that he expected it to work. Shinko had launched nearly everything they had at General Fenghua. This time, his forces wouldn't escape their fury.

A snapping of the string alerted him that the work was done. "That should keep you from bleeding out, sir," said the medic. "Just don't move around too much. With the rugged cuts, I can't guarantee that healing magic will keep it closed."

Nodding, the general shrugged on his jacket. "Let's just get back to the battlefield." His guards followed him as he left the room. Troops rushing around the castle worked on shoring up the walls. What earthbenders could be spared focused on repairs. The rest were trying to deal with underground attacks.

Shinko flinched when spikes of earth skewed one of his soldiers to the wall. As much confidence as he had in his plans, Shinko admired the enemy's tenacity. When others would have dropped guns and run, General Fenghua held his ground. A fitting foe to end a successful campaign with.

One of his guards grabbed his shoulders. "It's not safe for you to go up there," noted the soldier.

"The enemy's focus will be on our forces," noted Shinko. "I need to make sure that everything is going according to plan." So he went to the top of the wall to observe his bloody work. How much blood painted the walls and the fields? Shinko knew his post to send troops to their death to be important.

His stomach curdled upon spotting severed limbs poking from the earth. Broken torsos rested in their own blood. A fool would believe evil deities planted this ugly meadow, yet Shinko knew it to be honorable work. When they got home, the living would venerate the fallen. Shinko and the soldiers would be proud of their work. Yet his time here would stain his memories red.

"Sir!" cried a cannoneer. "Something odd is going on with the enemy's mountain cannons."

Humming in confusion, the general looked up at their foe's entrenched artillery. They were readjusting their angle of fire—an acute angle that kept going down. Shinko failed to understand what they were doing. At that angle, the only thing they could hit would be—

Clamping onto the earthy railing, Shinko bellowed, "Binoculars! Now!" One of the soldiers handed them over, and Shinko zoomed in on the mountain crews. It took some quick calculations and rough guesses in his head, but he saw the fact of the matter. Growls slipped from him as he watched his foes aim at the wall crammed with his troops.