The gods grow hungry

Chapter 5: The tax collector

The sky-ruler patrol returned at dawn, and this time, they did not come alone.

Mei Ling saw them first. She was standing at the edge of the village, her eyes fixed on the horizon, her hands clenched into fists. The memory of her parents being dragged away was still fresh. It would always be fresh.

"Zhong Yue," she said. "They're here."

He was beside her in a moment. The flame in his chest stirred, alert and watchful. "How many?"

"One. But he is not alone."

The single rider descended from the clouds on a black-scaled beast. Behind him, the sky was empty. But the weight of his presence filled the valley like a storm. He was not a god. He was something worse. A half-breed enforcer, a servant of the sky-rulers who had been given just enough power to terrorize the mortal world.

He landed in the center of the village, crushing the garden that had just begun to regrow. The beast snorted, its hot breath steaming in the cold morning air.

"Where is the tribute?" the man demanded. His voice was flat. Bored. As if this was the most tedious part of his day.

The villagers gathered, heads bowed. Old Wu stepped forward, his face carefully blank. "We have nothing left to give. You took everything last time."

The enforcer's eyes flicked to him. "Then we will take something else."

He dismounted slowly, his boots hitting the ground with a heavy thud. He was tall, with pale skin and eyes like chips of ice. A long scar ran from his temple to his jaw. It was said the sky-rulers marked their servants with scars to remind them of their place.

"The lord requires a new tax," he said. "Ten of your strongest. Ten of your healthiest. They will serve in the sky-palaces for the rest of their lives."

A murmur of horror rippled through the crowd. Old Wu's face went pale.

"We cannot give ten," he said. "We barely have enough to survive the winter."

"That is not my concern."

He began to walk through the crowd, his cold eyes scanning the faces. He stopped in front of a young man with broad shoulders and calloused hands. "You will do."

He reached out and grabbed the man's arm. The man did not resist. He did not even look up.

Mei Ling stepped forward. "Leave him alone."

The enforcer turned. "What did you say?"

"I said leave him alone." Her voice was shaking, but her eyes were fierce. "You have taken enough from us. You will not take more."

The enforcer laughed. It was a cold, ugly sound. "Little girl, do you know what happens to those who defy the sky-rulers?"

"I know what happens to those who don't." She took another step forward. "We die anyway. Slowly. Quietly. Like cattle."

The enforcer's smile faded. "You have a sharp tongue. Perhaps I should cut it out."

Zhong Yue moved. Not to fight. He walked to Mei Ling's side and put a hand on her shoulder.

"Peace," he said softly. "Not yet."

She looked at him, and for a moment, her rage wavered. "But he will take them. He will take them all."

"No," Zhong Yue said. "He will not."

He turned to face the enforcer. The flame in his chest was steady now, burning with quiet purpose.

"You have taken tribute from this village for generations," he said. "You have taken their food, their strength, their children. You have taken and taken, and they have given and given, and still you return for more."

The enforcer's eyes narrowed. "And who are you to speak to me this way?"

"I am no one," Zhong Yue said. "A ghost. A memory. But I am here now, and I am telling you that this ends today."

The enforcer laughed again, but there was something uncertain in it now. "You think you can stop me? You are nothing. A weak, broken man in a village of weak, broken people."

"You are right," Zhong Yue said. "Alone, I am nothing. Alone, each of us is nothing. But we are not alone."

He turned to the villagers. "You know this. You have always known it. Your ancestors knew it. They built an empire on this truth. They built a fire that burned so bright the gods themselves were afraid."

The villagers stared at him. Some were terrified. Some were confused. But a few, a very few, had a glimmer of something new in their eyes.

"Remember," Zhong Yue said. "Remember who you are."

Old Wu stepped forward. His face was pale, but his hands were steady. "I remember," he said quietly. "I remember the stories my grandmother told me. The fire. The light. The power of belief."

"As do I," another voice said. A woman, old and bent, with tears streaming down her face. "My mother used to sing to me about it. I thought it was just a song."

"It was never just a song," Zhong Yue said. "It was the truth."

The enforcer was growing impatient. "Enough of this nonsense. I will take my tribute and leave. Or I will burn this village to the ground."

He reached for his sword.

But before his hand touched the hilt, Old Wu stepped forward. The old hunter closed his eyes. His lips moved silently.

"What are you doing?" the enforcer demanded.

Old Wu did not answer. He was reaching for something deep inside himself. Something he had forgotten he had.

Zhong Yue felt it. The flame in his chest reached out and touched the ember in the shrine. It touched the embers in the hearts of the villagers. One by one, they began to stir.

"Believe," Zhong Yue whispered. "Remember. Believe."

Mei Ling was the first to join. She closed her eyes and thought of her parents. Of their faces. Of their love. Of the rage and grief that had been burning inside her since the day they were taken.

"I believe," she said. "I believe in us."

The old woman joined. Then the young man with the broad shoulders. Then a mother holding her child. Then another. And another.

The air began to shimmer. A faint golden glow spread through the crowd, linking them together like threads of light.

The enforcer's hand froze on his sword. "What is this?" he demanded. "What sorcery is this?"

"It is not sorcery," Zhong Yue said. "It is humanity."

The glow intensified. The villagers were no longer a crowd of frightened individuals. They were one. They were a flame.

The enforcer drew his sword. "Stop this now, or I will kill you all!"

He lunged at Old Wu. But the blade never reached him. A shield of golden light erupted from the old man's chest, deflecting the blow. The enforcer stumbled back, his eyes wide with shock.

"This is impossible," he whispered. "This power was destroyed. The gods erased it."

"They tried," Zhong Yue said. "But you cannot erase belief. You can only bury it."

The enforcer screamed and attacked again. This time, the entire village moved as one. The shield held. The light grew brighter. The enforcer was thrown back, his sword clattering to the ground.

He scrambled to his feet, his face twisted with fear and rage. "You will pay for this! The lord will send his army! He will burn you all!"

"Let him come," Old Wu said. His voice was steady. Strong. "We will be ready."

The enforcer grabbed the reins of his beast and pulled himself onto its back. He was trembling now. The cold arrogance was gone, replaced by something he had never felt before.

Fear.

He kicked the beast hard, and it leaped into the sky. Within moments, he was gone, a dark speck against the morning light.

The villagers stood in silence. The golden glow faded slowly. Some of them collapsed, exhausted. Others wept. But they were all still standing.

Mei Ling turned to Zhong Yue. Her face was streaked with tears, but her eyes were bright.

"Did we win?" she asked.

"For now," he said.

Old Wu walked over, his face pale but determined. "He will come back. With more. With an army."

"I know," Zhong Yue said.

"Then what do we do?"

Zhong Yue looked at the sky. The sun was rising, painting the clouds in shades of gold and red.

"We prepare," he said. "And we teach others. Because this is only the beginning."

The villagers began to speak. Some were excited. Some were terrified. Some were already arguing about what to do next.

But they were talking. They were planning. They were no longer just waiting to die.

And somewhere in the distance, the enforcer was flying toward the heavens, carrying a report that would change everything.

The gods would hear about the village that had learned to believe again.

And they would be afraid.

The first battle was won.

But the war had only just begun.