Milk_Is_My_Drug
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Chapter 18: The Deserter
🕑 Added 2025-10-22 16:00:18 +0000 UTCTai Lung decided to follow the Cabbage Merchant’s information and investigate the supposed deserters hiding in the nearby forest. Along with him came Han and two others from his crew.
As the group walked through the dense forest, Han glanced sideways at Tai Lung and said, “I didn’t expect you to look for deserters based on Cai’s words alone.”
Tai Lung’s expression remained calm. “I wanted to visit the forest to begin with,” he said. “And I did tell Father I wouldn’t just drift aimlessly. I think it counts if we catch deserters. Besides,” a faint smirk tugged at his mouth, “the Cabbage Messenger went out of his way to warn us. How could we ignore him?”
Han gave a strange look. “Do you really think he can talk to cabbages?” he asked.
“I don’t know,” Tai Lung replied thoughtfully. “He might truly be able to communicate with them or perhaps he has a spiritual connection with the universe… or maybe he’s simply too good at gossiping. Personally,” he added after a pause, “I hope he really is connected with cabbages or the universe.”
Han raised a brow. “And why is that, exactly?”
“Because,” Tai Lung said, his voice carrying a distant, almost wistful note, “he would be proof that one can truly communicate with the universe, that there’s a way to achieve inner peace and reach true chi mastery within the rules of this world.”
Han blinked at him, utterly baffled. “What in the name of Agni are you talking about?”
Tai Lung didn’t answer. His eyes drifted through the trees, his mind far away. In this world, there was no concept of inner peace or chi mastery. Here, bending was seen only as a path to strength and domination.
A quiet loneliness settled over him. It seemed that only he knew the art of chi, the balance between body and spirit. Yet he could not share it, not when he wasn’t certain if the universe’s laws even allowed it to advance beyond a certain level.
After a moment of silence, he said quietly, “Don’t mind me.” Then, turning his gaze ahead, he asked, “More importantly, how likely are we to encounter these deserters?”
Han shook his head. “Hard to say. The forest is too large, and searching every corner will take us days, if not weeks. Personally, I think it is not worth searching the forest blindly based on Cai’s words alone”
“Is it now? You said his information is always accurate, why the change now?” Tai Lung asked.
Han replied “I just don’t like the idea of searching the forest for deserters, if you want to follow the admiral’s words, then fighting in some local skirmish or catching bandits is better and simpler than this wild hunt”
“I see, well we are already here, let’s search for a day or two, if we found them that’s great, if not we leave” Tai Lung replied nonchalantly.
Han didn’t say anything else.
The group continued their march in relative silence. Hours passed until, after nearly three hours, Tai Lung suddenly raised his hand.
“Stop,” he ordered.
The group froze instantly. Han looked around, puzzled. “What is it?”
Tai Lung’s eyes narrowed, scanning the ground ahead. “There are traps hidden in front of us,” he said quietly. “And judging by their size, they’re not meant for small animals.”
“If there are traps here, and they belong to the deserters,” Han murmured, “then we might be approaching their camp or they’re nearby, waiting for some victim to step into one.”
Tai Lung nodded. His golden eyes gleamed narrowed slightly as he said, “Follow my lead. We’ll move slowly and disable the traps as we go.”
And so they advanced through the forest carefully, step by step. The soldiers moved silently, their boots barely making any noise. Tai Lung crouched every few paces, deftly disarming snares and tripwires.
Eventually, they reached a small river winding through the trees. Near its bank stood several crude huts made of sticks and bark, smoke rising weakly from dying fires. A handful of figures lingered near the water fishing.
Tai Lung straightened, his eyes narrowing. “We found our targets faster than expected,” he said, his voice low and calm. Then, without hesitation, he strode forward.
The soldiers followed, weapons drawn, their gazes alert.
The figures by the river noticed them almost instantly. Shouts rang out as the ragged people scrambled to raise their spears, forming a defensive line.
Tai Lung studied them calmly. They were dressed in rags and leaves, their skin darkened and rough, their faces bearing Fire Nation features, yet something about them didn’t quite match. There was a touch of the Earth Kingdom in their bearing, the rough life among the trees left its mark on them.
“Put your weapons down and surrender,” Tai Lung said, his tone even but commanding. “No need to make this hard for youselves.”
A silence followed before an old man emerged from one of the huts. His gait was slow but steady, his face marked by two deep parallel scars along his eyes and face. His eyes, sharp and wary, fixed on Tai Lung.
“You’re too young to be a soldier,” the man said gravely. “Has the madness reached the point where children now join the war?”
Tai Lung’s gaze didn’t change. “No,” he replied simply. “I am a special case. I’ll repeat. surrender. You’re outmatched.”
A bitter smile crossed the old man’s face. “Another child who hasn’t learned discipline,” he said. “It pains me to see arrogance so young. You have much to learn before calling yourself special.”
For a heartbeat, Tai Lung said nothing. The words struck deeper than the man could have known. Discipline… arrogance…. Shifu’s voice echoed in his memory, educating, cold, patient, relentless. His master’s lessons had been carved into his bones. No one demanded discipline like Shifu, no one taught harder than Shifu. Then arrogance wasn't through how he viewed others, how he met Po.
[Was he looking at others through the lens of arrogance again?] he thought bitterly. [Am I underestimating my opponent, just like before?]
The thought stung, and with it came anger, not toward the old man, but himself and this habit. His calm expression hardened; his shoulders tensed.
He inhaled sharply, calming his breath. “Then fight it is,” Tai Lung said, voice cold and deliberate. “But be warned, I’m not holding back.”
The old man’s eyes narrowed. He felt something shift, the air around Tai Lung seemed to radiate danger and violence. “Young one,” he said, his voice steady but low, “your eyes… they’re full of brutality and savagery. As if you’ve never been taught restraint.”
Tai Lung’s expression darkened. “I was taught to be efficient and brutal,” he said, each word measured like a strike. “To make my enemies suffer for their weakness or mistakes.” His gaze sharpened further, the gold in his eyes glinting with malice. “And I admit… I let my arrogance cloud my judgment for a moment. No more.”
The last words were spoken to himself, almost like a vow.
Then, without warning, Tai Lung moved.
The air cracked with speed as he shot forward, faster than anyone could. The old man barely had time to react before Tai Lung was upon his men.
The deserters rushed to meet him, shouting battle cries, but their cries turned to groans in mere seconds. Tai Lung’s movements were a blur, brutal and merciless. A sweep of his leg sent one man flying; a twist of his wrist shattered another’s spear; a single strike left two men crumpled in the dirt.
By the time the old man registered what was going on, it was over.
The men lay sprawled on the ground, their weapons broken, their bodies writhing in pain. The only sound was the crackle of the river and the faint moans of defeat.
The old man stood frozen, his eyes wide in disbelief. Never, never, had he seen someone fight like that. It wasn’t human, nor the refined technique of a bender. It was something else entirely, efficient, cold, and predatory like a beast. He began to wonder if this young man before him was even a bender.
When Tai Lung’s eyes turned toward him, the old man felt a chill crawl down his spine. For the first time in many years, he realized he could not afford to hold back.
The old man took his stance, preparing to face Tai Lung, but as he observed him more carefully he asked, “Young man, what is your name?”
“I am Tai Lung,” Tai Lung replied.
“Are you Shulian Lung’s son?” the old man asked.
Tai Lung raised an eyebrow. “You know my father?”
The old man nodded. “He was a captain under my command back in the day. I was also his master, I taught him firebending.”
Tai Lung was taken aback. “My father never told me about you, or that he had a master.”
The old man sighed. “I am Jeong Jeong, an ex-admiral of the Fire Nation and the first person to become a deserter there. Your father didn’t take kindly to my actions and viewed them as a betrayal.”
“If that’s true,” Tai Lung said, “then it is all the more reason I must bring you in.”
