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That very night, he returned to Earth, sweeping over the battlefields littered with bodies, and entered the tent of the Tuni general. He burst in upon his shocked enemy and, laughing in triumph, killed him where he stood in his underclothes. In accordance with the pact Baijen had made with the gods, the soul of General Sh’ak flew to Heaven. Baijen, the savior of his people, was left to roam the Earth as an exiled spirit for all eternity. Green Bones have an old saying: Pray to Jenshu, but be like Baijen.
That was the way it was with Hilo; it always came down to the deeply personal for him.
He didn’t even need to touch them; it was as easy as snuffing the life from mice in a cage. He caught up two men in midstep. They clutched their chests, eyes and mouths wide with shock, blades clattering to the ground. He watched with curious detachment and greedy joy as they died.
he ought to be in good spirits just as his cousin was. Instead he felt hollow and lacking, hungry not for victory or vengeance, but only for the awareness and power that had been so fleeting and transformative. Brief exposure to a large quantity of jade had carved his mind with indelible knowledge of what it was capable of. Everything else—family and clan included—paled in comparison.
