Chapter 608

Chapter 608

About two seconds into celebrating a new milestone in my recovery, it occurs to me that the ability to feel Aura is less than ideal.

I mean, yea, its a sign that my health and whatever is still improving, but I still cant use Aura, I can only feel it, which means Im at the mercy of anyone who has Aura unless I have an Aura-capable warrior around to counteract it. Well, not entirely at the mercy of, since I think I could still move around without an Aura of my own, but thats nothing new. Plus, its not like I lack Concealed guardians around, since I have more than I can shake a stick at, but when all is said and done, being able to perceive Aura again is just another item on the long list of things to be wary of.

With that, my good mood is spoiled and I pet Ping Ping while glancing over my sheets of scribbled questions and nonsensical answers. Dipping my pen in the inkwell, I add Why feel Aura again? and stare at the pages as if expecting the answer to write itself. Maybe after slipping into a coma, I reset my... Aural receptors or something, like turning myself off and on again, but I didnt even know I had Aural receptors, much less faulty ones. Turns out I dont actually know much about the Martial Path, which is hardly surprising considering the Empires long history of hoarding secrets and obfuscating truths. Just look at the Imperial Clan. They churn out stronger warriors than the rest of the province, to the point where Imperial Servants like Luo-Luo become Martial Warriors just to preserve their youthful good looks. Then theres Scions like Liu Xuande, Guan Yunchang, Zhang Yide, and Jian Xianhe, Experts of the Empire who use their Natal Palaces to do paperwork. Paperwork!

...Which raises an interesting question. The Eastern Province is supposedly the smallest, least populated province of all. Granted, the outer provinces having more landmass than most continents in my previous life, so this isnt saying much, but for such a small place, the East sure seems to have a lot of Martial Warriors. I dont have an exact figure to go on, but Luo-Luo was given an honour guard of three hundred and sixty Death Corps. Thats not an insignificant number of Martial Warriors, more than most minor factions in the Society can call upon, but after their training, the members of Luo-Luos honour guard were simply set aside for the better part of a decade until I co-opted them for my retinue. If the Imperials can set aside that many Martial Warriors for a mere Imperial Servant, they either have more Martial Warriors than they know what to do with, or Luo-Luo is more important than I thought.

Probably the former. When I became Minister of Finance, Shen ZhenWu gave me a thousand more, saying it would be a disgrace to my Office to not have my own honour guard, and Minister of Finance was supposedly a minor title until my War Bond scheme took off. Question, I begin, brushing my hair out of my eyes for the umpteenth time. How many Death Corps Guards are there? A general figure is enough, like tens of thousands? Hundreds of thousands? Millions?

Not millions, though this one is unsure of an actual figure. Involuntarily offering a small bow in unnecessary apology, Luo-Luo doesnt even notice herself still playing the part of Imperial Servant instead of her true role as friend, partner, and advisor. Something to work on, though I have no idea how, so I simply file it away for future consideration. Lord Husband would be better served asking Kuang Biao or another of the Death Corps, but I do know that each head of the Five Supreme Families is said to have an Honour Legion, a host of Death Corps Guards who defend the ancestral family homes. How many members serve in the legion, I cannot say, nor have I ever seen the ancestral homes firsthand, but I have read that each one is a city unto itself. Seeing my surprise, Luo-Luo corrects herself and says, Not a city like the ones you are used to, Lord Husband, containing millions of families each, but perhaps thousands at the very least.

Hmm. What about the Grand Marshal and Prime Minister? They might well also be the respective heads of their Supreme families, but if the Minister of Finance warrants a thousand guards, surely the Grand Marshal and Prime Minister have more.

Ten thousand each, Luo-Luo replies, having the number already on hand before adding, The Royal Generals Honour Guard is equal in size, with the caveat that each Death Corps Warrior is an Expert-level talent.

Ten-thousand Experts for an armchair general who has probably never commanded a battle in his life. Just... wow. Akanai only brought fifteen-thousand Sentinels with her and left ten-thousand behind to guard the mountain passes. Mila once told me that when looking at all the villages working under the Sentinel banner, they have a higher percentage of Martial Warriors compared to the normal population, 2.5% versus the Imperial standard of 1%. This puts the total population around one million people, which is higher than expected until I remember just how large the Saints Tribulations Mountains really are. Thats pretty much the name for the mountain range west of the Northern Wall, which stretches all the way to the ocean shore, or roughly half the province.

In comparison, the Empire can spare twice that number of Martial Warriors as ceremonial guards for three individuals, including ten-thousand rare elites who have reached Natal Palace Formation, and probably Aura Condensation too. Either the Imperial Clan is much more populous than I first expected, or they crank out Martial Warriors at rates much higher than a measly one to two percent of the population. Probably both, now that I think about it, but I dont really have any proof besides the fact that Luo-Luo said most of her peers had already succeeded at Core Creation when she was only seven years old. This is the Imperial Academy were talking about too, a place where Imperial Servants were trained to be artists, poets, singers, dancers, and general trophy companions, so if most of Luo-Luos peers succeeded at Core Creation, then that says something about Imperial methodology or genetics.

Problem is, it doesnt sound like Luo-Luo Created her Core in any strange and unexpected ways. Her experience is fairly similar to mine, and everyone else I know too. One moment, we were all regular, mortal people, and the next, we found Balance and became Martial Warriors. Kablam.

Then again, Luo-Luo also wasnt actively seeking Balance at the time, so there is that. Either way, the Imperial Clans understanding of the Martial Path probably vastly exceeds the outer provinces, which isnt really news to anyone, but still worth noting. Out here, its hit or miss, but it seems like the Imperial Clan has more successes than failures when people are taught to Create a Core, unless Luo-Luo's class was an extreme outlier, which I suppose is possible. Unlikely though, since my orphanages are lucky to meet that 1% average, even with former soldiers and Sentinels offering daily lessons for more than a year under Tanaraqs supervision. I wonder what percentage of Easterners are Martial Warriors, and how many move onto the next milestones? The majority of Martial Warriors in the outer provinces never move beyond Core Creation, which seems like all sorts of wrong to me...

A protesting squeak brings me out of my thoughts, and I look down to see Ping Pings half-lidded eyes just brimming with profound melancholy as she ponders why my hands have stilled and Im no longer paying her any attention. So dramatic, but I love it, and I love her, so I laugh and go back to stroking her smooth, rounded head and massaging her turtle cheeks as she hits me with another burst of Aura before settling in for a lap nap. Problem is, now that both my hands are occupied, I cant brush my hair out of my eyes anymore, and I find myself blowing at my offending bangs in hopes of keeping their sharp tips from poking me in the eyeballs. Seeing my dilemma, Luo-Luo wordlessly gestures at my hair in an offer of help, but instead of just brushing my bangs aside as expected, she hurries out in a stately, yet excitable manner before returning with an armful of hair tools and products. Dumping everything onto my desk, she none-too-delicately runs a brush through my hair, though luckily, my hair is so straight and fine the tangles are few and far between. Thankfully, the first thing I did after waking up was take a bath, because otherwise shed be subjected to two weeks worth of body stank instead of only a few hours. The bath was fun, and Ping Ping loved splashing around, though Im a little sad Pong Pong hasnt been around to say hi yet.

Lord Husband, Luo-Luo begins, perhaps professionally obligated to make small talk while playing the part of hair-stylist. Have you given any thought to taking on a manservant?Follow current novels at novelhall.com)

Doing my best not to lose myself in the intoxicating scent of her floral perfume, I furrow my brow and just barely remember not to shake my head. No. My hair doesnt need brushing and styling every morning, and we have servants to do the cleaning and stuff.

Yes, but a manservant is more than a glorified attendant. Satisfied with her brushwork, Luo-Luo produces a pair of scissors and snips away at my sideburns before I have a chance to protest. Hired staff is kept at arms length, for their loyalties can easily be bought, but a manservant is someone you must entrust with many of your greatest secrets and need not guard against, a loyal confidant who will see and care for you in your most vulnerable moments. They will manage your schedule and make arrangements with your guards, help you plan events and wardrobes, and be your voice in all matters of minor importance you yourself are too busy to pay heed to, such as purchasing a mirror for your bedroom, having the swings greased so they stop creaking so much at night, or setting ant traps to catch them on their way to the food you leave lying around the bedroom.

Glancing at a dried apricot out of the corner of my eye, I purse my lips and resent the implication that I need help dressing or that Im a slob. I left that for the red panda. He wouldnt take it from my hands, so I thought hed chase after it if I threw it on the floor. This was before Luo-Luo clued me in to the red pandas unexplained origins, so Im kinda glad the little guy didnt go for it, else I wouldve inadvertently sent Guan Suos reincarnation to go fetch, which is just all sorts of weird. Dont worry, one of the bears or rabbits will get to the food long before any ants make their way up here.

All the same, it is something to consider, Lord Husband. After seeing how capable Young Magistrate Fungs manservant is, I thought Lord Husband could use someone of the same calibre.

Ha. Shes in for a rude awakening if she thinks there is anyone in Fu Zhu Lis league whod willingly become my manservant. I honestly have no idea why he would settle for being a nursemaid, but according to Fung, the overly-qualified half-weasel has been around for as long as he can remember. Tell you what, I say, amused by her foolish naivete, If you can find someone of Fu Zhu Lis calibre who is willing to be my manservant, then I will hire them on the spot. I wont accept anyone less than his equal though, so good luck to you. Manservant is only the most obvious of his skills, with torturer, Martial Warrior, Healer, and forbidden book collector also on that long list. Hell, maybe I should be like the Legate and find a possible Living Legend to be my seneschal. What I wouldnt give to know the terms of their contract...

Collecting my papers and inkwell, I bring them with me while escorting Luo-Luo back to her room, because its the polite thing to do, and not at all because Im harbouring ulterior motives while my wives are away at war. When shes done putting her things away, I offer to walk her back to the office as well, because theres no way I can get any work done with Ping Ping snoozing in my lap and demanding constant, non-stop pats. Since she wants to nap, I figured she wont miss me as much, so I leave her in Songs able hands and ignore the tearful gaze and mournful squeaks emanating from the overly attached turtle. They dont last long however, as Song sets the tire swing to swaying once more, and the little girls squeaks turn cheery and bright before I even reach the manor doors, though they cut off the second I step through the Sound Barrier surrounding the entire place. Thats one thing I love about animals, how quick they are to adapt to new emotions, rarely one to harbour a grudge or dwell over a past wrong. Ping Ping was sad to see me go, but so long as she has someone to keep her company, she wont dwell on my absence and wallow in despair.

I could learn from how animals deal with their emotions, but alas, humans arent built like that. In fact, I think our... not inability, but our ineptitude at dealing with emotions is why we are susceptible to turning Defiled. Spectres can most certainly influence animals, as I saw firsthand in Ping Pings Natal Palace, but its either Demon or nothing with them. Theres no such thing as a Defiled animal because animals dont know how to hate without reason. Sure, some animals learn to despise individuals, but a wolf wont lie in its den thinking about getting revenge on the hunter who hurt him, nor will the chicken imagine enacting justice against the farmer who steals her eggs, and no animal would ever wholly devote their lives to the genocide of another race.

People suck. Floofify everything.

After dropping Luo-Luo off at the office, I head back to Mom and Dads house with Kuang Biao in tow, who fumes quietly over being ignored for two weeks. Since I was in a secret coma he doesnt know about, I say nothing so I dont give the game away and just focus on my footsteps. Usually, I dont even notice it, but after my brush with Zhen Shi, I cant stop noticing the fact that Im aware of my Spiritual Weapons. It takes an effort of will to keep from turning off the paved paths and walking directly towards them, a route which would take me into the pond and through the now empty cattle ranch. Upon arriving at my old room, I take in the shattered remains of Peace, Tranquility, and Unity while trying to eyeball how much of the weapons have sloughed away in my absence. Even with this room locked and sealed, the circulation of stagnant air is enough to grind away at the brittle, broken weapons, and one good thump on the wall would probably turn them all to dust. Its only a matter of time before theyre gone for good, but I cant bear to see them go and will do whatever it takes to keep them around for as long as I can.

Because theyre not just weapons. Theyre a part of me, or rather, theyre a part of who I was. There sits the weapons of the Undying Savage, a Warrior, Warrant Officer, and Number One Talent of his generation. He fought in the Societys Contests and eluded his malicious pursuers, and even bloodied their noses for daring to hunt his people. Then, he rode to war against the Defiled where he slew the chieftain Vivek Daatei, before breaking free of a Demons mental prison to form his Natal Palace. He then went on to fight four consecutive duels against some of his strongest peers and rivals, killing three and defeating one through sheer luck and grit. Months later, during a routine sweep for bandits, he uncovered a Defiled plot in Sanshu and played a pivotal part in the citys harrowing defence, and for his heroic contributions, he was invited to the First Imperial Grand Conference. There, in front of millions of spectators, he emerged victorious in an impromptu sparring tournament and became known all around the Empire as the Number One Talent. He then served on the front lines and led his retinue to kill more Defiled and lose less soldiers than anyone else. When others left to rest and recuperate, he camped on the fields of Sinuji and defended the fortress from wave after wave of Defiled invaders, and he counted that as a break well earned before venturing forth beyond the front lines once more.

And then, in one, disastrous, unfortunate move, he lost everything.

No... Thats not true. I shattered my Core and lost my Weapons, but I have more now than ever before. I have a family who loves me, friends who stand up for me, not one, not two, but three women who love me for who I am and a fourth who thinks so highly of me I cant even wrap my head around it. I have a veritable horde of lovable animals who get excited when they see me, and more money than I even know what to do with, so all in all, I have no right to complain about my life.

But still... I want to be strong again. I want to wield Peace, Tranquility, and Unity on the battlefield once more, to fight alongside Yan and Mila, Zian and BoShui, Rustram, Dastan, Jorani, and the rest of my comrades and retinue. As much as I hate bloodshed and suffering, I never feel more alive than I do in combat, because like Zhen Shi said, is that not my purpose? Is this not why I am here? To be fates instrument in the battle against the Defiled, to stand firm against the Fathers foul minions and cast them back from whence they came? Thats how it goes, right? The transmigrated schmuck becomes a hero in his new world and saves everyone from the impending darkness. Thats me. Im the schmuck, and its high time I save someone instead of just making things worse.

Hence, this work ahead of me, to simplify the Martial Path. Its not really so more commoners can become Martial Warriors, its so I can figure out what the fuck Im supposed to do to make myself better. Dont get me wrong, if I come up with a working step by step guide, Ill totally distribute it for free, but my motives are far more selfish than I let on, because I have always been a selfish person. Thats why I try to help others when I can, because at the end of the day, this is all about me.

Im the hero of my own story, and I would very much like to be the hero of other stories as well, so its time to buckle down, put my big brain to work, and come up with a working solution to uncripple my sorry self.

Arranging my notes in a somewhat logical order, I set a blank page in front of me, dip my pen in the inkwell, and begin writing what I know. The Core is the powerhouse of the Martial Warrior, it begins, my characters neater and more orderly than ever. Without a Core to hold and contain Chi, you are undoubtedly mortal and subject to mortal limits. With a Core however, there are no limits, for Core Creation is the first step on the long and arduous path towards Divinity.

The characters fill the page in what feels like the blink of an eye, then a second page, third, and fourth, but still I continue writing what I know about the Martial Path while glossing over what I dont know. Luo-Luo gave good advice, because even as I write, the answers unravel themselves before me, and I find myself adding notes to previous pages until it becomes easier to start fresh and rewrite everything again. Time passes, but I care not for the minutes or hours of the day, because the only thing that matters is to get the right answers onto the page before I lose them and never find them again. The pages pile up across my desk until I grow weary of seeing my past mistakes and sweep them all onto the floor, whereupon I feel inspired to start anew without all my previous misconceptions weighing me down. The Core is the powerhouse of the Martial Warrior. That doesnt change, because it seems right and it makes me laugh, but everything else is just wrong. You dont need a Core to use Chi, which is just Heavenly Energy by another name. Anyone can use Heavenly Energy, the issue is doing it on command. There are limits to Heavenly Energy, but not human ones, and there is no need to belittle humanity, because Martial Warriors are nothing without mere mortals to support them.

Balance in all things, because if everyone is super, no one is. Wouldnt that be something? If everyone started on equal footing...

My pen scratches across the surface of a half-filled page, but no new words appear. Frowning, I go back and write the same characters again, to the same effect. Dipping my pen in the inkwell, I hear the clink of steel on porcelain, and it takes me a long second of staring and even longer minutes of contemplation to figure out why I cant write anymore. The inkwell is empty, or dried, or something, and I...

I am tired, hungry, and exceedingly uncomfortable. How long was I writing for?

You are a bold and daring man. Startled out of my stupor, I shoot up into the air and turn to find the Legate reclining on my bed in his Imperial robes, with a book in hand and frown pasted across his too-handsome face. Shen ZhenWu, not the Legate, because even though both are technically correct, Shen ZhenWu is the loftier title. As I open my mouth to greet him however, I notice the book in his hand is distressingly familiar, with a spine which reads Traffic Logs For Shen Huos Twelfth District, followed by some weird dates and numbers before being punctuated by Volume 17.

Which is the cover on my copy of Zhen Shis notes.

Coincidentally, the volume Shen ZhenWu is holding covers experiment 1792, which Not-Gen mentioned while rambling on about my new Path, but thats neither here nor there. While owning copies of those notes is not exactly illegal, it is frowned upon and grounds for suspicion, and if theres one person I didnt want becoming suspicious of me, it would be Shen ZhenWu.

Welp, fuck me. They werent even helpful, and now Im in deep shit. Why didnt I return those worthless notes to Fu Zhu Li the second I was done with them?

Chapter Meme