172 The South

Following the events in the palace, Cha Ming sat in meditation at the Talisman Artist Guild. Huxian slept soundly on his lap as he worked hard to calm himself from the hectic hour he'd just experienced. He thought about his diminishing utility in the city and the war to the south. Should he go south and help Feng Ming fight off the invaders?

A soft knock on his door interrupted his train of thought. Cha Ming opened it to find the hardworking Feng Huoshan. "What can I do for you today?" he asked.

"A guest has come to see you," Feng Huoshan said. "I left her in a private room. I was afraid that she'd try and convert customers if left to her own devices."

Cha Ming nodded and followed the red-robed man to a small room. Gong Lan sat there cross-legged in her orange kasaya with two cups of steaming-hot tea.

Cha Ming closed the door and approached Gong Lan with Huxian in his arms. The fox yawned and hopped onto Gong Lan's lap. "You've changed a lot," Cha Ming said as he took a seat on a soft cushion. "When did you decide to become a monk?"

Gong Lan smiled. "My brother took me to a monastery to save me. Little did he know that it would change my destiny forever."

Cha Ming took a sip of the small cup of tea before placing it down again. Gong Lan immediately refilled it.

"Back in those days," she said, "I just wanted to help everyone and not be useless. I've finally found a way to do it without losing myself. Speaking of which, I'm not the only one who's changed."

"I've been through a lot," Cha Ming said. "I've learned to become a little more proactive, but this sudden change of events has taken me by surprise."

"It's not a sudden change," Gong Lan said wistfully. "This started hundreds of years ago with the fall of the Song Empire. It was a thriving kingdom that eventually collapsed. Hundreds of years passed while civil wars were fought. Territory changed hands until only this tiny Song Kingdom remained."

"I still don't understand how this could have any bearing on the current situation," Cha Ming said. "To me, it seems that the battle for the throne is a recent concern."

"Do you know anything about destiny?" Gong Lan said.

"Only a little," Cha Ming admitted.

"Let me give you brief explanation, then," Gong Lan said. She took a tea leaf and a bowl of hot water. "Let's say that this leaf is all the vengeance and resentment that is sown whenever a major conflict arises in a nation." She placed the leaf inside the bowl. A brown cloud immediately surrounded the leaf. However, it eventually diffused outward.

After several minutes, the bowl of hot water had attained a light brownish coloring. "See how all the resentment spread across the entire teacup? It's the same in a nation. Therefore, when kings supress rebellions, if each one is not quelled quickly, resentment will spread across the entire country. In turn, more rebellions will sprout all over the kingdom and tear it apart." She dropped three more leaves in, and the water turned increasingly dark. "Just a few events will cause an entire kingdom to be embroiled in perpetual bitterness.

"The Song Kingdom, however, thought of a solution to this threat long ago. To secure their nation's destiny, they tied it to the emperor's Seal of Pure Jade and stored it in the emperor's tomb, where each successive emperor was buried and subjected to a ritual to protect the nation forever. They encouraged meritorious acts to constantly refill the nation's destiny.

"Unfortunately, time has taken its toll, and the seal has accumulated too much corruption. The Song Kingdom is but a small piece of a larger entity. It has been soaked with so much warfare and corruption that the remaining kingdom could collapse at any time."

Cha Ming frowned. "But the Song Kingdom is no longer a part of the previous empire."

"That would normally be true," Gong Lan said. "However, the seal is a transcendent treasure that bound the entire empire by karma. The first emperors encouraged and rewarded righteous behavior, so that merit would cleanse the seal and providence would shine upon the kingdom as a whole. However, a scheme caused the chain of emperors to be broken. The kingdom split into twelve pieces that fought many wars over meaningless scraps of territory. But they are still bound by karma, and the hatred between the kingdoms eventually corrupted the original intent of the seal. Its guardian spirit has been convinced that the only way to protect the kingdom's inhabitants is by destroying the kingdom from the inside."

"How do you know all this?" Cha Ming asked.

"Because my teacher fought against this corruption 160 years ago," Gong Lan whispered. "He lost his prized disciple in the process and has requested that I atone for his failure. Coincidentally, the king's curse originates from the seal. I need someone to help me journey through the emperor's tomb and reach the emperor's seal and cleanse it. I need you to help me."

Cha Ming shook his head. "I need to stay here and do everything I can." Inwardly, he doubted his own words.

"What can you do here?" Gong Lan asked. "I've heard the whispers of your deeds in the city. You've strengthened the citizens and reinforced the third prince's faction, but ultimately a civil war will erupt. Your strength may be great, but it's a pittance compared to the might of the emperor's seal. When its corruption is completed, the remnants of the empire will fall no matter how you try to stop it."

Cha Ming sighed. "What do you need me to do?"

"I need you to do what you always do," Gong Lan said. "I need you to get to the bottom of things and tip the scales. Haven't you noticed that despite all the struggles in the city, there's a strangeness you can't put your finger on? Something that gnaws you from the inside?"

Cha Ming nodded.

"That's because much of the work is happening behind the scenes. The enemy's focus is in the emperor's tomb, which is why the third prince has been able to gain an advantage in Songjing in the first place. This is also why I need your help—us monks might be strong, but we're not invincible. We need protection, especially in those vulnerable moments when we fight the corruption. Besides, you're favored by the plane. You can make miracles happen even in hopeless situations."

"How long will it take?" Cha Ming said, closing his eyes.

"If my master's records are correct, it will take a little less than a month to reach the emperor's seal," Gong Lan said.

"Can I call a few friends?" Cha Ming asked.

"You have three days," Gong Lan said. "In the meantime, I'll join the others in destroying as many evil spirits as we can find in Songjing."

***

Feng Ming looked gravely upon a multitude of campfires blanketing the clear sky in a layer of smoke. They were still fifty miles away from Southhaven Fortress, where Marshal Yong stood as Songjing's vanguard, along with twenty thousand men, a fifth as many as the invading forces. The large stone castle guarded Southhaven Wall, a remnant of the ancient Song Dynasty that had protected the kingdom until this day. If Southhaven and the three other fortresses didn't fall, neither would the wall.

"What a damnable time to attack our kingdom," General Qin said. "What kind of bastards attack a kingdom during their monarch's succession? They're despicable, rotten to the core."

Another eight generals were part their small group. Unfortunately, they were much weaker than their brawny counterpart and could only bite their tongues.

Feng Ming snorted. "Are you sure you're not an inquisitor of the Church of Justice? This is war, and it's the perfect time for them to attack." General Qin was about to retort when Feng Ming cut him off. "Don't let that muscle you call a brain convince you otherwise. Just listen to the rest of us and charge where we say charge, and when we say charge, and we'll do just fine."

He added in a bit of his early-core-formation pressure for good measure. The general's indignant expression was instantly replaced with one of respect.

General Qin suddenly burst out laughing. "Who said people promoted to general by reaching core formation are all meatheads like me? You're right, I'm not a thinker. I wear my heart on my sleeve, and everyone knows it. Just say the word and I'll charge into a sea of ten thousand men. That's much more than those eight cowards would be willing to do."

Seeing the eight other generals' indignant expressions, Feng Ming couldn't help but comment to smooth things out. "Truth be told, they're ten times more useful than you or me when directing our men in the battlefield. I'm like you—I'll charge when they say charge and retreat when they say retreat. We'll need to work together to fight those southern devils off."

They covered the fifty miles within the next hour, where they were greeted by Deputy Marshal Mo just outside the wall. The man was also a core-formation expert, but unlike Feng Ming or General Qin, he had a sharp mind for strategy. Recognizing his talent, Marshal Yong had immediately recruited him to his side.

"Welcome, Generals," Deputy Marshal Mo said, saluting. "As you can see, the situation is dire, and we need all the men we can muster. Marshal Yong has called an emergency meeting for all generals. Colonels and captains, please report to the barracks for duty. Make sure you familiarize yourself with the fortress's functions—it's a very advanced structure imported from a transcendent realm."

"Sir!" Everyone saluted. Feng Ming and the ten others followed Deputy Marshal Mo through a series of sturdy stone passages to a room at the core of the fortress. There, they saw thirty other generals in their red-and-gold capes surrounding a rectangular war table. Unlike those found in the capital, this one was intrinsic to the fortress—the adjustable table perfectly reflected the terrain and enemy forces outside each of the three fortresses. To his surprise, all of the enemy's forces were concentrated outside a single fortress.

"As you can all see, we're only fighting on one front, which greatly improves our defensive situation," Marshal Yong said. The grizzling man's chest was a foot wider than most men's, and coupled with his black-and-gold marshal's cape, he struck an imposing figure. "As a result, we have called back five thousand troops from each of the other fortresses. This way, we can man ten more defensive battle formations and keep men in reserve for rotation and special operations.

"What I need you all to do now is ponder over the situation and discuss the strategic options available. I want no stone left unturned. While thirty thousand men seems like more than enough to fight off these 100,000 men, remember that the Southern Alliance can employ strange means, many of which they have not yet revealed. They are far more advanced in key warfare technologies, weaponry, and alchemy than our troops. Our scouts have also reported that one thousand members of their reclusive Spirit Temple have joined the battlefield. We don't know anything about their capabilities, and they are a wildcard in this war. Our only advantage is this wall, which our ancestors paid a great price for in the realms up above. Any questions?"

There were none, and the generals got straight to work.

Only Feng Ming and General Qin felt strangely out of place. While the generals began evaluating the terrain and stratagems, the two generals began playing cards, only pausing when the occasional general requested a clarification of their combat capabilities. To Feng Ming's surprise, General Qin was not a qi refiner but a body refiner. He didn't even use qi to refine his body—instead he used alchemical assistance and natural sources of heaven and earth energy to temper himself. Thus, while he might not be stronger than Feng Ming, his endurance and survival skills in battle were nothing to scoff at.

"Are you enjoying your game of cards?" a deep voice said from above them.

Seeing Marshal Yong, they both scrambled to their feet and saluted. The marshal walked up to the table and picked up Feng Ming's hand, which was smaller than General Qin's. "Are you so lucky that you need a two-card handicap in a five-card game?"

"And he's still winning," General Qin complained. "When they say he has the luck of a thousand men, they're not exaggerating."

Marshal Yong nodded. "Come with me, General Feng."

Feng Ming waved apologetically to General Qin, who wandered off to his second-favorite pastime: weight training. Surprisingly, he kept an assortment of training equipment in his spatial ring.

Feng Ming followed the marshal down a few hallways until they reached a secluded room with a stone door. The marshal placed his palm on a square, causing the door to open horizontally with barely a sound. The chamber was plain and simple—it contained a small bed, a desk, and a meditation mat. On the table, Feng Ming spotted an Angels and Devils board.

"This fortress comes with more conveniences than even a technologically advanced nation like the Quicksilver Empire," Marshal Yong said, motioning for Feng Ming to sit down. "Have you ever played Angels and Devils?"

"A little," Feng Ming admitted. "My father forced me to learn when I was a boy. I haven't played in ten years."

The marshal nodded and placed an open container of black stones in front of him. Then he placed five of the black stones on the board and placed his own white stone. "The average general can only defeat me with a five-stone handicap. I force them to play often—it's a useful exercise to develop and sharpen their minds."

"I'll likely embarrass myself," Feng Ming said. He still placed a stone, however. It was a career-limiting move to disobey a superior officer.

The marshal replied in turn, and before long, they'd each played twenty stones. As far as Feng Ming could tell, he was getting slaughtered. After peering at the board for a while, he shook his head and laughed inwardly. Since he couldn't will this battle, why take it seriously? He began to treat it as the game it was, and soon the game reached its middle stages. The marshal's pace slowed to a crawl while Feng Ming kept placing his stones based on gut instinct.

***

Marshal Yong frowned as he observed Feng Ming's latest move. Based on how the boy had played for the first twenty stones, his skill level was at least five stones worse than most of his generals. While Feng Ming was being modest when he spoke of his skills, it nevertheless fell short. Everything changed, however, when he placed the twenty-first stone. While it wasn't enough to turn the game around, it caused Marshal Yong to hesitate.

Thirty stones later, the marshal was sweating. Judging by Feng Ming's relaxed demeanor, the boy had stopped playing seriously and was just following his gut. But that alone revealed a frightening fact—while Feng Ming wasn't trying, he was supressing the 300-year-old marshal like it was child's play. Therefore, what he saw as a hundred-point lead in the beginning shrunk to fifty points, and fifty shrank to twenty. Marshal Yong soon found himself taking a teatime for every move. This lasted until the endgame, where the moves became much simpler. By then, his lead had shrunk to a mere ten points.

I can't be careless, Marshal Yong thought. I have to fight for every point, or I might lose. Therefore, he played cautiously, closing the existing gaps on the board and therefore reducing Feng Ming's opportunity to come back.

There, he thought as he placed one last stone. That should do it. His brow was covered in sweat.

Suddenly, General Feng reached over to the other side of the board, which the marshal had overlooked as secure. He placed a single stone in the center of his existing territory, and the seemingly casual move caused the marshal to pale. He played a series of moves in his mind before realizing that he had to respond. They played one after another until neither the marshal nor Feng Ming could play anything in what used to be the marshal's territory without losing something. It was something called dual life, where a move by either player would cause his own stones to perish.

After some quick calculations, he sighed in relief when he realized that he still had a single-point lead. The game finished without any more surprises.

***

"Thanks for the game," Feng Ming said as they swept up the stones into their respective cups. "I guess I still fall a little short from a general's standard. Though in all fairness, I just got lucky."

His words were relaxed and modest, but his mind was actually working double time as he thought of the implications. Although he didn't know how he did it, the moment where he stopped thinking was when the losing game turned around. Didn't that mean that he might have won if he'd played that way since the beginning?

"In your case, luck is a form of strength," Marshal Yong said. "In the upcoming battle, I want you to listen to my or Deputy Marshal Mo's direct commands."

Feng Ming nodded. This was what he expected all along.

"However, that is only in ordinary circumstances." The man walked over to a drawer and pulled out a red cape covered in black runic symbols. While a general's cape was an enhanced piece of defensive equipment, it didn't affect his combat prowess too much.

However, Feng Ming could tell at a glance that this was a core treasure that would substantially improve his fighting strength.

"If at any point in the battle you feel there is something you should be doing, I want you to act on your instincts," Marshal Yong said. "I want you to conscript our men into your group and do what you do best—get lucky. I've seen your records, and I know how you can turn even hopeless situations into wonderful victories. You're even better at it than your father was. This is something that we need, but it's not something I or the other generals can channel. You need to act on your own terms. That is why, from now on, you're the second Deputy Marshal of the Southhaven Fortress."

Feng Ming's jaw dropped as he accepted the black cloak that resonated with his rune-covered black armor and even his lucky spear. He felt his movement speed double and his physical resilience shoot up to the point where only marrow-refining body cultivators could exceed his toughness.

He felt strong enough to fight against a demon beast monarch.