Chapter Text
The elders were slumped on their chairs.
The atmosphere in the hall was suffocatingly tense.
The idea that no machine nor human could save them had nested deep into the minds of the Mohist elders, who had never faced the real onslaught of warfare. A situation beyond hope. Imminent doom. Waiting for death. These were the ideas that circulated through the room and connected everyone.
But there was one man among them who had not yet given into the despair. He was busy, thinking, plotting, trying to come up with a strategy against all odds.
Zhao Guangyi, under the disguise of Jin Zhongyuan, now also under the guise of Master Peng's envoy, paced the viridian floor of the Grandmaster Hall.
His mission here was clear. He had to make Mohist Hill and ally and open their doors to the world so that they could use their technologies on the Southern Campaign, but to do that, he had to earn their trust, and in order to accomplish that... he had to have them actually not wiped out by the Qiongqi Artificers today.
Unfortunately, his entire purpose for being here was on the verge of ruin...
He looked beyond the Confluence Gazebo, and down the mountains, which already already obscured the many secrets of Mohist Hill, and were now hiding the raging battle. If he narrowed his eyes and looked very carefully, he could see a flickering redness and a cloud of smoke trailing up in one of the crevices of the mountainside. The outer part of the hill was aflame. He knew what was going out there, but worrying about it would not benefit the situation in any way.
So he tried not to worry.
He really did.
Behind him, that Grandmaster glanced outside, but her eyes stared no where in particular. She sat very still and her expression betrayed no thoughts as usual, but Zhao Guangyi could see that the small glimmer in her eye had faded. Her expression was truly vacant right now, as if she was reliving a moment in the past. She said she knew who the Swordmaster was. Zhao Gaungyi had a guess, but he did not say it out loud. If she had a panic attack, he did not know how he could pull her out of it. Although he was good with words in groups or connected to political factions, he was not so good with individuals who were dealing with individual matters. He was not someone who could uplift a person with a few words, like that person.
The Elders, who knew their resources best, said there was nothing they could do now, but go into lock down, which they had already given the order to begin. All they could do now was wait and hope the artificers do not topple the entire city, they said and that everyone makes it to the emergency shelters in time.
The Grandmaster still refused to tell where or what the black gold was. She was an obstinate one, he had to give it to her. Even in this situation, she was determined to die with it.
He sighed.
With the limited resources available, he had to come up with a plan that would get the Mohists leave this encounter with the least amount of casualties, while somehow acquire the secret of the black gold, which would be the ideal scenario.
As one of the few here who had actually strategized on the battlefield, he held the experience to offer the most critical advice. There were two issues, however, that were in the way of him coming up with a feasible and decisive move.
One: The Mohist philosophy of Universal Love ensured that they did not have any military force beyond their machines here, and none of their machines were not suited for war. They had some defensive mechanisms and traps, and hence why all the elders were grouped up in the safest area of the hill, but if the Artificers truly intended to come here, there would be nothing to stop them. The outer defenses were broken. Mohist technology was useless in the face of real warfare. He might as well be working with a scrap heap of metal for the purposes of responding to attackers.
And secondly: Something was in the way of thinking clearly, obscuring his normally crystal clear mind. He tried to recall his past battles and the historical accounts he read of fortresses unprepared for defense, but his mind was obstructed by certain impulses...
Humans called this impulse, worry.
His mind could not help but drift to that figure that was in the middle of that maelstorm of fire, who had rushed in alone, the moment he heard that the defenses had been breached. The fool had gone charging in!
Yes, it was true, the Young Master had defeated the Lodestar Swordmaster before... And without much trouble at that...
But he knew that the enemies out there were more dangerous than the Swordmaster alone. There were other people behind this attack than the Qionghi Artificers, and even if it was just them, it would not change the fact that a single young man had charged into the battlefield alone to face a hoard of people. No, not a hoard, but an army.
Well, he did not know what the size of the enemy looked like, but judging from the damage, it was a sizeable group.
It was so frustrating... He could not estimate anything from his position here.
He had no access to military scouts, he could not anticipate the size of their forces nor the nature of their weaponry, and because he could not safely leave the Grandmaster Hall himself, so that he could not check to ascertain their numbers. They were utterly left in the dark regarding their attackers.
If he had learnt the secret of the black gold, worst came to worst, he could run away...
But that was not possible under the current circumstances.
He understood why the Grandmaster held the secret so closely. The Grandmaster was prioritizing the forest over the single leaf. However, the difference between them was that if she died here, the secret would die with her here. She did not have the foresight nor strategic disposition to preserve the secret. Or no... Maybe she preferred that it died here with her.
So in the end, he had to stay, knowing the secret might be lost with her. Of course, no secret weapon was worth his life, unless it without the shadow of a doubt, secured victory, but sadly no such weapon existed.
He knew that Jin Zhongyuan's swordsmanship could not compete with the greater jianghu. He would not be any good in the frontlines. If the Lodestar Swordsman decided to attack the hall he could only slow him down for a few moments, and he was still injured from their previous fight. He would have no choice but to step out of the way if he came here and preserve his own life. Fate had other plans for him yet.
Why did he have to rush into the middle of the battlefield! It would be much more useful to have him here at the hall with all the elders. He would not have to worry about preserving his own life as well as the secret of the black gold with him.
There were too many moving pieces, and too little resources. It was truly looking like a hopeless situation.
The prefect bit his lip.
Why did he have to leave...
The Wanderer, at first, was the perfect disposable pawn, but also his usefulness became a part of why Zhao Guangyi begun to grow conflicted about his attitude regarding the Wanderer. That's what he told himself, at least.
When he had showed up in Kaifeng and the Ember and Shimmer made their move, he knew he had to get a piece of this prized pawn. He did not yet know why everyone was interested in a random kid who had shown up from a burnt down village, but he knew there must have been a reason. His story was also interesting enough that he had to conduct a background check, and what he learnt pleased him. Well, not the whole burnt down village bit, but the part related to who the Young Wanderer could be. A good strategist, even if they do not know all the pieces in the field, must make their move, and not get left behind in the sweeping winds of the ever-changing world. Sure, initially he did not intend to compensate the public for their Tang Coins, but in the end, he uprooted an evil amidst the midst of the court who had intended to bring the campaign down by causing internal conflict in the capital. More importantly, it would uplift military morale, which would be a bonus for the upcoming campaign. Of course, he did not intended to hold the promise with the compensations all the way, but it was useful for a while to keep the morale up.
Then, the events at Jinming Pool and the aid he received in the headquarters of Xuanyuan Cult cemented the notion in his head that he was not only useful, but a playing piece that would prove instrumental in his plans. His personality made him the perfect playing piece, but it also made him dangerous. He was still too young and trusting, and others could still manipulate him for their causes if they made the slightest attempt, so it was best to keep him an arm's length away.
He had to keep the Wanderer close enough so that he could benefit off his power, but not so near that he himself would get swept away in his impulsive plans. The Wanderer was maturing, of course, slowly, even for Jianghu standards. Even though his experience was accumulating at an incredible degree due to his strong battle prowess, he still had a long way to go before he could become a trusted confidant in the upcoming war. His experience in the jianghu made him more wary of people, but he ideals made him weak. He was still too easily moldable.
On one hand though, this was an opportunity. Zhao Guangyi just needed to ensure that he would be the one to mold him as one that was useful for the Song Dynasty.
However... There were a few issues between them, that he was currently not in a position to freely mold him.
The prefect could not help but think back on their conversation back in the inner chamber of the Evershift Labyrinth. The Wanderer thought Zhao Guangyi had betrayed him...
It was not personal. He did what he to do, what he had to, in fact, this could hardly be called betrayal in Zhao Guangyi's standards... It was more akin to tactile withholding of information under duress-- moreover it was a quick on-the-spot decision that he had to go to the Evershift Labyrinth in the first place. So could it even be called betrayal?
Oh, but why was he lingering on this so much!? It was not a crime to withhold information... Even if he had really betrayed the Young Wanderer, he was prepared to betray and cross anyone, if it meant it would benefit the court. Perhaps the Wanderer ran away because he could not stand to be in the same room has him? Was the thought that the Wanderer might despise him truly so distressing? Wait, who said he was distressed about this?
Oh great. Now he was the one making it personal!
Nevertheless, there was a reason his mind lingered on the Wanderer and his personal feelings regarding him. Although he did not want to admit it, it was important that he secured a personal connection with the Young Wanderer. That was the only way he could secure his aid by his side, because the wanderer's whims changed like an ash-tree leaf in the wind.
Whenever he could, he stole glances at the Young Wanderer, hoping it would reveal something more about his changing whims, hints about his past, and anything that could acquire a foothold in his personal life. Yes, that was a part of it, but not the entire story. He searched for a way-- a key to be exact-- into having him follow his orders directly. He was tired of manipulating him into situations or being stuck in his favor. He wanted him... No, he needed him to become entirely his.
He needed the Wanderer to follow his orders and no one else's.
With his power, the Southern Campaign would receive a weapon that could prove decisive to victory.
Of course, trying to tie down a jianghu wanderer, especially such a bright-eyed and fooldhardy specimen as this one, was far from easy. So far, he had resisted every attempt at reporting to him directly. Other people, such as his brother, and other circumstances had to be involved before he collaborated. A good strategist and a diplomat had to meet such capricious individuals at their own stride, match them with a similar level of wayward behavior.
Zhao Guangyi knew, if the desire to have the Young Wanderer came out, he would truly slip through his fingers entirely. Therefore, he played the part. Elusive and aloof, but also free-spirited and principled. That's who Jin Zhongyuan was.
Of course, his prefect side overpowered his martial identity, but that was unavoidable. To a certain extent, Jin Zhongyuan was the person he had once desired to be: the self he wanted to be if he was not tied down by the court. But also, he could not help being who he was. The prefect of the Song, the Prince of Jin, the one who will finally be rid of the Khitans from the homeland. And he would rather not be anyone else.
He was a person in political power, and that power molded him as much as it molded the world.
It was a completely different kind of power than the Wanderer held...
On rare occasions, he was envious of his power.
It was a true form of power, a bit innocent in some ways, but essentially at its heart... it was the power to kill.
More exactly, control over life.
One could use words of righteousness and use other words to coat the power of a martial artist, saying it was used for protection and justice among other things... But at its essence, it was power over life, whether it was taking it or preserving it.
In this way, martial artists were also quite weak too: The power of a Jianghu hero, could hardly make any impact on the societal level. That was not the kind of power he was interested in, in the long run. Perhaps that's why his martial identity was a tool to a means to an end. He could have the best swords instructors in the realm if he wanted to and train until he collapsed, but it would be a waste of time for his true purposes. What he was interested in was statecraft.
There were a rare few examples of people in power and who were powerful in the martial way had helped shape history. His brother was one of them, he supposed, but not anymore. Tian Ying was another, but he was a different beast altogether.
He glanced at Swallow. Her power was a similar kind of power to a statesman. But she was weak in many ways. An academic's power has certain limitations, such as being beholden to truth, something which a statesman has almost no obligation to, as long as they lead to peace and prosperity.
The Wanderer argued she never wanted to be the Grandmaster. He was wrong, of course, and politically short-sighted, as usual. If she really did not want to be the Grandmaster, there was a way to relinquish it.
The ones in power deserve no pity.
Of course they may feel there is no one better suited other than them, feel some sort of obligated due to expectation, but it made no difference.
Power deserved no pity.
If people began to pity the powerful, than how should one regard the common people, the powerless?
He shook his head. Finally, his mind had cleared as he had discussed the nature of power in his head.
He had no time to wallow in his past actions; no time to worry whether a certain individual may be facing death or not.
Finally, the outline of an idea had formed, a plan, that might actually get them out of this situation.
Well, it was not a plan, but more so, a desperate attempt, a scramble to hold onto something as the world crashed and burned around him. But it was better than nothing.
He ran to his room using his lightness skill, and took the messenger Empire's hawk that he had brought here with him, in the odd scenario that he would find a way for the hawk to penetrate the mist. He had not anticipated the fact that the Mist will be gone entirely, but instinct had told him to bring in the hawk. And he was thankful to have listened to instinct for once. Now that the defenses were down, it was the perfect scenario to try it.
He had remembered an odd memory regarding a military report. Normally, minute movements of the military was not his concern, but ever since he had begun planning his trip to Mohist City half a year ago, he made sure to keep track of the military movements in the area. As he was sorting last week's report, an Imperial scout group was to pass through the Floral Expanse Beyond, before they made their way to the Thousand-Vale Buddha Valley. If his calculations of a mid-sized scout group's travel-time were right... They must be at the edge of the Floral Expanse now. If they could find ships... They could cross the river to bring reinforcements within the next few hours. The trip to the Mountain, once the route was known, was not actually difficult.
He quickly wrote the message, with as much clarity as possible and also further relayed instructions to be sent to the palace.
Then, he sent out the hawk.
As he watched the wings soar into the night, restlessness grew in Zhao Guangyi's heart, and the fire in the distance grew ever-brighter.