The Faceless

The Faceless were white-robed disciples of the Mandate, trained in both sword and spear — the blade light and flowing, the spear in sweep, catch, thrust, and lift. Staying righteous is hard: defeat, injury, fear, exhaustion. Such hardships pushed them toward a quick solution that promised to turn their fortunes around.

Perfect Transcension made them faster and stronger and brought savagery and derangement with it. They wrap cloth around their necks and torsos to hide the signs, but a face hollowing out cannot be hidden. The blue-robed ones are the captains and lancers, ranked higher, and the toll runs deeper in them.

Transcended, willing or not, they are enemies of the Mandate now. Pangzhen is a dead town, and the camp is no refuge either. Some had already resolved to end their own lives before becoming mindless husks; yet when the spear turned and the cold point touched the throat, a moment's hesitation came anyway.

• Faceless Swordsman: White-robed, once known for light, flowing swordplay; now faster and stronger, and more savage with it.
• Faceless Spearman: White-robed, his face a hollow, every sweep, catch, thrust, and lift swift and precise.
• Faceless Swordsman Captain: Blue-robed, his swordplay more accomplished than the white-robed disciples he led, and more formidable still after Transcension — swift as wind, ruthless and sure. He still longs to slip out of the camp and into Pangzhen for one last look at home.
• Faceless Spearman Captain: Blue-robed, once commander of white-robed disciples; a single thrust at the throat was a fortnight's study for them. With the toll mounting and his days numbered, he still means to reach Pangzhen and cut down as many Maskwalkers as he can.
• Faceless Lancer: Blue-robed, spear leveled from the saddle, striking with the gallop and wheeling to strike again when checked; many wore the blue through connections rather than skill, and the shame pressed down with the robe.

Their arts come straight from the Mandate — proper form, precise delivery — and trading blows head-on gains nothing. The spearman's thrust at the throat and the lancer's charge are finished killing strokes; let them pass and look for the opening behind.

The white-robes come in groups with the blue-robes holding the center, so break the leaders first and the rest lose their order.