~~~

General Murong congratulates them heartily when they return. Never once does he bother asking what happened to Captain Ko and the other raiders killed by Commander Qing. Such blatant favoritism should have bothered Lei Cheng, but his mind is elsewhere. No matter how much he tries to avoid it, he keeps thinking back to the battle with the monsters of the Death Fashioning Scripture.

“You seem shaken.”

Lei Cheng nearly falls from his saddle. He had been so deep in thought that he failed to notice when the one who murdered so many of his uncles started riding at his side.

It still doesn’t feel real.

Commander Qing Jin looks neither imposing nor fearsome. At best, the combination of dark hair and red eyes makes him look slightly ominous, but that’s all. No one would be able to guess he is the man who brought down the storied Lei Clan.

Commander Qing’s cultivation might be outstanding for his age, but there are many older cultivators in higher realms. He might have achieved the peak of lightning mastery, but so have several others. He might be of royal blood, but why does that matter? The purple sparks he manifests sometimes are nothing grand.

There is no reason why someone in the Heaven Realm should listen to him. There is no reason why his cousin, who has yet to rejoin the main force, should worship him. There is no reason why an Emperor like General Murong Bang should pay him any special attention.

And yet, they do.

No matter how much he wants to deny it, Lei Cheng can tell there is something unnatural about the person next to him. His every instinct screams at him that the young man who looks no older than him is somehow… more.

“Are you okay?” Commander Qing asks him, making Lei Cheng realize he has been staring without saying a word. “Are you still tired from the battle, perhaps?”

“I’m fine!” Lei Cheng snaps, perhaps a little more loudly than is prudent. Quite a few turn to look at the two. Lei Cheng flushes in embarrassment. “I’m fine,” he repeats in a much lower voice. “You already ascertained that for yourself.”

Qing Jin inspected every soldier after the battle to make sure they weren’t infected. He also healed their wounds. Lei Cheng caught some saying they felt better after the battle than before it. Preposterous nonsense, of course. There is no way anyone could feel fine after…

Flesh twisting… eyes falling out of sockets… so many teeth… so many mouths…

Lei Cheng shivers.

“It is normal to be bothered by it,” Commander Qing tells him, having the gall to be concerned for him after what he did to the Lei Clan. “Am I right to assume that was technically your first battle?”

“That was no battle!” Lei Cheng hisses. “A battle is a contest. A display of skill and superiority. That was…something else.”

Something unnatural. Something wrong. Lei Cheng cannot comprehend how the commander can travel with that ugly dog at his side as though it was normal.

“Certainly, it is not usual to see creatures like those,” Commander Qing says. “However, in other ways, what you saw was completely normal.”

Lei Cheng stares at him.

“How can something like that possibly be normal?”

“Two powers fought. The weaker one lost, and those caught in between died without knowing or understanding anything. What could be more normal than that?” Qing Jin asks him. “Certainly, the arts involved were more esoteric than usual, but make no mistake. What you saw today wasn’t anything special.”

“That’s not… That’s… When the Lei Clan fought…”

“The only opponents the Lei Clan has fought lately have been innocent villagers,” Liu Jin reminds him. Though the commander does not glare at him or use Qi in any way, Lei Cheng finds his tongue cannot move. “They were trampled over and sold. Shall I praise them for not immediately killing their victims but instead drawing out their suffering?”

Lei Cheng does not dare to answer. He stays silent and looks down. The images of the dead playing on his head again and again.

No matter what Commander Qing says, the actions of his clan cannot be compared to the atrocities he has seen today. There is no way. There is no reason why he should listen to the one who murdered so many of his clan.

And yet…

And yet…

For some reason, Lei Cheng feels shame.

~~~

The Storm Palace is full of nervous energy.

The nobles are dressed in fine clothes and adorned with expensive jewelry as usual. They talk and laugh as though it were just another day.

However, their laughs are a little too loud, and their smiles are a little too tight.

How could it be any other way? From the south, General Murong Bang. From the west, General Nie Dan. The reports come one after another. Their armies have suffered defeat upon defeat. Hardly uplifting news.

Usually, they would be able to take some comfort in having the shadow of the Storm Dragon to protect them. No matter what happened, not even an Emperor could touch them here. However, they have heard the rumors. No one dares to speak the Black Dragon’s name, but everyone can see the parallels. The last time someone of royal blood entered the Storm Palace with Murong Bang, dozens of noble bloodlines were extinguished.

Who is to say history won’t repeat itself?

It is a harrowing thought, and it makes them all the more eager to begin today's session. They keep looking at the empty throne, but it is not the emperor they wait for. It is not him they long to see.

Right now, they yearn for the stalwart figure of General He Bin.

When they sense his Qi drawing near, all talk stops. The doors open, and everyone holds their breath as the true ruler of this land enters the throne room. Always so gallant. So regal. The aura of an Emperor Realm cultivator, which should fill them with fear, invigorates them and gives them strength.

General He Bin sits on the throne, and no one finds it strange.

“My dear friends, it warms my heart to see all of you in good health,” he says. “Sadly, the emperor is indisposed today. His heart grieves for the citizens of our kingdom, so I will hold court in his stead.”

No one objects. No one finds it strange. Why should they? The emperor’s cowardice and ineptitude are well-known. It is just like him to hide in his room while everything falls apart. A Heaven Realm cultivator should be made of sterner stuff, but he is living proof the quality of a man is not always tied to the quality of his cultivation. A heretical thought, to be sure, but how can they deny the blueness of the sky?

“My friends, I know you are worried,” General He Bin says. His hands are clasped together. The look on his face is grave. “I know you are worried for your people. While we are here, they are at the mercy of that beast Murong Bang. Even Nie Dan cannot be relied on to be kind, for he has joined hands with a monster. This must trouble you greatly.”

Everyone agrees with the general, somber faces all around. In reality, less than half a dozen of those present have spared a thought for their people over the past few days.

“I know you all have been paying close attention to news coming from the front lines. No doubt, you all have your informants. You must have heard several tales lately.”

The room falls silent. Some shuffle awkwardly. Everyone has heard the rumors already. Certainly, there is the matter of the lost prince traveling with Murong Bang, but there are other rumors.

Unsettling rumors.

“You should all know what I’m speaking of. Stories of grotesque, unnatural Spirit Beasts are on everyone’s lips. Great monsters that have no place in this world,” General He Bin says. “No doubt, loyal subjects such as yourselves consider them to be nothing more than baseless rumors. However, I am here to tell you there is a grain of truth to these rumors.”

The story has been taken without consent; if you see it on Amazon, report the incident.

The gathered nobles look at each other in confusion. A lone brave duke steps forward and asks the question on everyone’s minds.

“General, what exactly do you mean?”

“A good question. Allow me to answer it with a more pertinent one. Do you believe we can win?”

“What?”

“Do you believe we can win?” General He Bin repeats. He looks not just at the duke but at all the nobles present. “Does anyone here believe I can defeat Murong Bang and Nie Dan at once? As much as it’d flatter me to hear otherwise, we all know it wouldn’t be true. For our country and subjects to survive, there is no other way forward but to join hands with the power of those Beyond the Dead Plains.”

“Those Beyond the Dead Plains,” one of the nobles present echoes, bringing her fingers to her lips. “Then those rumors…?”

“As I said, there is a grain of truth, but only that,” General He Bin says, smiling charmingly. “The tales of our soldiers killed by those creatures are just that. The creatures of the other side are not pretty to look at, but cultivation is not always beautiful to behold.”

“Wait,” another duke says. “If the rumors about the creatures are true, does that mean the rumors of a child of royal blood…?”

The duke trails off. He does not know why. General He Bin has done nothing but smile at him.

“Nothing but rumors, my friend,” General He Bin says. “I am sure this will all go better if you listen to the words of our ally. Once you do, all your doubts will be dispelled.”

~~~

In another part of the palace, Shi Qingxia shakes her head as she senses what is happening.

“People are idiots,” she says as she moves her piece over the go board. “The general couldn’t be more suspicious if he was actually trying, but they are almost eager to trust him.”

“Fear makes people believe what they want to believe, Sister Shi,” replies Ye Zheyu. His piece looks ridiculously small in his large hand. “We already know this.”

“That’s not the point!” she shouts. “It’s just… disappointing. Those are people decades our seniors. They should be wiser than this!”

Then again, has life ever taught her any different?

Shi Qingxia still remembers the awe she felt when she entered the Eternal Flame Clan. To be in the presence of the wise and esteemed Elders, each a cultivator with centuries of experience, was a privileged experience. Without a doubt, they, as well as the older members of the Feng Clan, were the pinnacle of what a cultivator should aspire to.

How foolish she had been. In a matter of years, Shi Qingxia was forced to realize the wise and powerful Emperors were as petty and childish as everyone else.

“Age does not necessarily bring wisdom,” the third member of their group says. Yong Zhunyi is sitting by the window, looking at the Grand Storm raging outside. “Those who can face their mistakes become wise. Those who refuse to look at them will remain fools. You could even say that old fools are worse than young ones. The old have had more opportunities to mend their ways and refused to.”

Shi Qingxia frowns. Her eyes look at the board, but her mind is still focused on what’s happening in the throne room.

“We’re working with fools. This whole country is nothing but fools.”

“Perhaps we’d be the same had we been born under their circumstances. By all accounts, the Black Dragon’s rampage was quite something,” says Ye Zheyu. Always moderate, that one. “Although… if we are going to talk about the situation in this country, perhaps it is pertinent to bring up that rumor.”

Shi Qingxia snorts. Even the ever-stoic Yong Zhunyi cannot quite keep his face from showing emotion.

“Are we supposed to believe Feng Gui was hiding a bastard from the royal bloodline all these years?” Shi Qingxia asks, slamming her piece down. She frowns as she gives her words a little more thought. “Actually, that does sound plausible. He could be the father for all we know. What’s one more bastard?”

“This is not Lord Feng Gui’s work,” Yong Zhunyi says. “However, it might be Patriarch Feng’s.”

Ye Zheyu blinks in confusion. “You think Patriarch Feng is Qing Jin’s father?”

Yong Zhunyi stares at him.

“Oh. Right.” Ye Zheyu blushes. “You think Patriarch Feng is the one who has been hiding Qing Jin all this time?”

“It is only a possibility,” Yong Zhunyi says. “However, it would explain why things started moving so quickly after he appeared.”

“Look at you all, meeting in secret and discussing plots and schemes as if you were decades older than you are. How precious.”

Yuan Tao enters the room without them noticing, just to show that he can. Her male companions do not react outwardly, but Shi Qingxia does not bother hiding her distaste for the older disciple. The way he saunters around with that long braid always trailing behind him makes her think of a cat.

“Senior Brother,” Yong Zhunyi says, his tone presenting nothing but deferential respect. “To what do we owe the pleasure?”

“Can I not want to visit my juniors? Yuan Tao asks, his golden eyes glowing. “It heartens me to see you thinking so deeply about our situation.”

“Is Senior Brother Yong right then?” asks Ye Zheyu. “Is this Qing Jin-”

“Who cares about him?” Yuan Tao says, waving his hand dismissively. “He’s an annoyance. A distraction. The ones you should be thinking about are that fool Feng Zhi and the monster Mud. If Qing Jin is really a Qing, then let the dragons deal with each other. Do you understand?”

“Naturally,” Yong Zhunyi replies.

“Good,” Yuan Tao says. “Now, I do not expect you to be able to deal with Mud, but Feng Zhi must die. Once he does…”

He trails off and grimaces. A flash of gold appears around him, and they immediately understand he has just purged himself of a parasite.

“That sneaky bastard.” He shakes his head. “Whatever. It seems I’m needed elsewhere.”

He leaves without saying goodbye, leaving the room much more silent than he found it.

“He’s a Feng,” Shi Qingxia says, voicing what they have all been thinking for a while. Bastard or not, Yuan Tao is undeniably of Feng blood. “We did not know that when this began.”

“No,” Yong Zhunyi says. “We did not.”

Ye Zheyu says nothing. He merely moves his piece.

However, all three are thinking of the words Yong Zhunyi spoke earlier.

Only fools do not learn from their mistakes.

~~~

The army of the dead stands before them again. The first time it happened, the soldiers reacted with obvious fright. The creatures of the Death Fashioning Scripture can make even the strongest hearts waver. Now, the soldiers have no problem meeting the creatures head-on. The strategies to deal with them have been firmly imprinted into their minds.

Watching Young Master Feng Zhi repeatedly burn the monsters to cinders has a way of making them seem less threatening. Even now, he is wreaking havoc on the enemy’s lines. Though the Young Master is using quite a bit of power, he should have no trouble recovering before they enter the Grand Storm.

All is well.

“That Young Master of yours is certainly enjoying himself,” General Dan tells him. As if to punctuate his statement, Young Feng Zhi’s laughter rings across the battlefield.

“He’s been under much stress lately,” Mud replies. “I imagine he relishes the opportunity to unwind.”

“The young ones often do,” The general says. “You should try it as well.”

Something that might possibly be irritation flickers across Mud’s face.

“This Mud and the general are nearly the same age,” Mud reminds him.

“And yet, you’re young,” General Dan says. “Someone who struggles to find himself can be nothing but young. I can feel your doubts as though you were shouting them at the top of your lungs. It’s unseemly.”

Mud says nothing. There is nothing to say.

He is Mud. He has been raised to stop Xun Huwen.

He is Mud. Xun Huwen is not on this side of the Dead Plains, so he must find a new purpose. It sounded so easy when Master Xun said it, yet the reality has been confusing and irritating. The war has not brought him any answers.

“To be surrounded by brilliant flowers while not being one is not easy,” he says at last. “It has never been, but…”

“But now you have another reason to care,” the general finishes for him. “I cannot imagine who raised you, but I do not envy the position you are in right now.”

“Do you have any advice to offer me, general?”

“Would I have approached you if I didn’t?” The general replies. “Unfortunately, I cannot fight the urge to give guidance to stupid young people.”

“Is that why you felt the need to convince young Qing Jin to go to Murong Bang?” Mud asks. “Guidance?”

The general does not answer.

“You knew who he was,” Mud says. If he had any doubts about the rumors regarding Qing Jin’s identity, they are immediately dispelled by the general’s lack of reaction.

“I did,” Nie Dan says. “I knew it was the right path for someone like him. However, you should be wondering why you care.”

“Is it unreasonable for me to care for my junior?”

“Is that what you think?” the general snorts. “How naive of you. You do not care for him because he is your junior. You care because, despite being centuries your junior, you see something in young Qing Jin that you lack.”

Mud tilts his head to the left as he looks at the general.

“And what would that be?”

“Purpose.”

~~~

“Do you see it, brother?”

“I’d be hard not to.”

The Grand Storm stretches out before Firm Shadow and Alarming Shadow. Just by looking at it, one can understand it is not a natural phenomenon. The Grand Storm forms a perfect circle around the palace. There is nothing gradual about it. The rain, the wind, and the thunder abruptly stop once one is far away enough.

Alarming Shadow scoffs and shakes his head. “I can’t believe it.”

“It is worrying," Firm Shadow says. "The shadow of an Ancient One shouldn’t be so overtly on display. Something has clearly gone wrong in this country.”

“Wrong or right?” Alarming Shadow asks.

Firm Shadow glances at him. “Are you saying the Heavenly Sword wished for this?”

“You’re the one who came up with the idea,” Alarming Shadow reminds him. “That there is no way they aren’t involved in this somehow.”

“But to what end?” Firm Shadow asks. His face darkens. The two are standing on top of a tall hill, so they can clearly see the two armies getting closer to the Grand Storm. “I fear we might be about to find out soon enough.”

Alarming Shadow grins and cracks his knuckles. “If things have gotten to this point, I’d say there is no point trying to keep quiet, is there?”

Firm Shadow sighs sadly.

“No. There is not.”

~~~