Earth to Hell. Kylie Chan

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Earth to Hell - Kylie  Chan


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A young man in full traditional armour appeared in the corridor in front of me and saluted. ‘Madam General. This way.’

      I saluted back and followed him. He led me further down the corridor and stopped to open a door on the left. ‘Ma’am.’

      I nodded to him and went into the preparation room. It had a large wooden screen on one side, gorgeously decorated with a scene of cranes and pines made from semi-precious stones. A couple of traditional rosewood chairs sat against the wall with a rosewood side table between them holding a pot of tea and four upside-down cups. A small rosewood altar stood against the wall, a burning stick of incense in front of its statue of Xuan Wu.

      My armour was ready for me, fitted onto a mannequin made of rosewood that looked very similar to a dressmaker’s dummy. A demon servant, appearing as a young woman, stood silent and attentive next to the armour. The weapons rack was empty; nobody but myself could call the Murasame.

      I dropped my handbag onto one of the chairs and shook my shoulders out. Then I nodded to the demon and she peeled the armour off the dummy and helped me to place it over my plain jeans and shirt. She carefully checked the buckles and straps, ensuring that the armour was secure.

      ‘Good luck, ma’am,’ she said, bobbed her head and disappeared.

      I turned to the altar and studied it for a while. Then I said, ‘Wish me luck as well, John,’ and exited the room.

      The same young man in armour waited for me on the other side of the door. He bowed slightly and held his right arm out to indicate the way.

      ‘No weapon, ma’am?’ he said as he led me down the corridor. ‘Your opponent is armed.’

      ‘Only if needed,’ I said.

      ‘A shame,’ he said, smiling over his shoulder at me. ‘I have never seen the Destroyer.’

      ‘The blade must be fed if it is released,’ I said.

      He stopped for a second, hesitating, then continued walking along the corridor. ‘I apologise, ma’am, I was unaware. Usually only demonic blades require feeding.’

      ‘It is yin,’ I said.

      He nodded understanding. ‘Ah, the Dark Lord’s blade, of course. It is a wonder you are able to wield it at all, ma’am, such a blade must be a very difficult to control.’

      ‘We have reached an understanding,’ I said.

      ‘It is sentient?’

      ‘Not as such. It is not intelligent but it does have a will.’

      ‘Fascinating.’ He stopped and gestured; the corridor ended and a moon gate led to a wider corridor to the left. ‘Ma’am.’

      I nodded to him and went down the corridor, leaving him behind. The corridor brightened at the end and opened out into the Arena.

      It appeared as an open area in a glade of bauhinia trees, the dirt floor covered with their pink and white blossoms. Sunshine sparkled through the leaves of the trees, rippling over the ground in bands of light and shade. A sweet breeze heavy with the scents of plant life and damp earth brushed my face.

      My opponent stood on the other side of the clearing next to the officiator for the match. He had the nut-brown skin of a Chinese who had spent a great deal of time in the sun, and the square, heavy-set features shared by those from the North. He was at least half a metre taller than me, large and strong. He wore traditional lacquer armour similar to mine — square plates held together with wires — but his armour was as brown as his features. He held a spear that was at least two metres long with a slender, sharp tip surrounded by a red horsehair fringe and decorated with a piece of green silk.

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