Xiaojun thanked the Hongbei for their hospitality and rode the horse he had won in battle. Rejuvenated and sharpened, Xiaojun made his way to the mountain, his horse clopping against the blackened sand. This was a land that should’ve never been discovered by humanity.
The northern mountains were a treacherous set of pike-like rocks that seemed to stab into heaven itself. Many warriors had journeyed to these legendary mountains. Many died crossing the Northern Wastes. Many other died climbing the mountain. And the final number of these warriors died fighting whatever lay waiting in the mountain. But all of these warriors had one dreadful quality: they were not Xiaojun.
The warrior got off of his horse and allowed the horse to roam free. The steed galloped off as the warrior turned to the mighty mountains. He could see the peaks touch far into the sky like a finger of man attempting to reach god. It was as if simply being here was enough to reach heavenly amounts of power. So Xiaojun started by clutching onto the rocks, heaving himself upwards.
The rocks were difficult to manage, but the job was still easy for the strong warrior. He had bested through armies of beasts and monsters, making this climb a simple task. But at the same time, an itch grew in his mind. Xiaojun knew that this mere climb was not what killed so many adventurers before him. It was what lie waiting inside.
There was this cold feeling that drew into his back, like how a fawn feels when a wolf breathes upon its back. Xiaojun had this feeling ever since he discovered the existence of beasts and monsters multiple times stronger than humans, but this feeling was ever-so present now. This wasn’t a threat that had simply escaped the Diyu and wished for havoc, like in Guancheng or with Lord Luo. This was an aura that could only be exuded by an ancient being akin to a great god.
Xiaojun continued to climb higher and higher as this dreadful quality injected into his blood like a disease. Bodies covered every height like landmarks. This was the fate of the many warriors who had come before Xiaojun in search for power and strength. There is no power in cold death.
The clouds got closer as did the quantity of corpses. Frozen with snow, these bodies were perfectly encased to their exact visage and emotion to when they died. Open mouths that begged for heat. Disparaged bodies which had climbed many miles just to slip for one. Faces of ambition replaced by faces of defeat. Xiaojun passed them all and continued to climb further.
The air got colder and harsher as the wind huffed like a furious deity. It was the complete opposite feeling Xiaojun had when crossing the northern wastes. It was as if the sun was nonexistent, except for the humiliating glow that exuded onto the mountainside. That’s all without mentioning the emaciation of the air, as it was so thin that a simple man could suffocate while breathing it in. But Xiaojun, a warrior formed and shaped by constant battle, was more than capable in climbing higher and carrying on.
He climbed to the point where he blended into the clouds, feeling the wind at its full brunt and force. His vision was cut to only a few feet in front of him, only being enough to see the area in front of his gauntleted fingers. It was here where the primordial feeling truly stabbed into his spine, for the warrior knew very well that he was not alone. He was in the presence of a godly being.
Suddenly, his reflexes acted on their own as he jumped upwards and landed himself onto a platform. He had just narrowly avoided a strike by an unknown being, his speed being the only thing that saved him. Looking from the platform, he witnessed the deity who had chosen the mountains as his dominion.
It was a serpent. No, a dragon. Its scales offered a radiant gold which could be seen even in the ghastly fog and cloud. It was as large as a castle wall of scales, but its length seemed to be an endless supply of power and beauty. This wasn’t a mere monster who raided the innocent for their body and souls. This was a true god who was punishing another trespasser.
Xiaojun barely jumped to the next platform as the dragon’s tail whipped his previous position, crushing the rocks like a whip from heaven. Just as the warrior’s feet landed on the cold stone, he was forced to jump again. And again. This wasn’t a battle, this was a one-sided expulsion. Xiaojun was an intruder, and this dragon was driven to kill him.
The dragon’s body nudged itself closer as fins swung from his body. These fins were more like large blades since their sharpness and thickness could cut the finest of armor. Quickly, Xiaojun had to block each and every one of these fins which came fast like a chamber. Up, down, left, and right, the dragon flew about and used its fins to continuously barrage Xiaojun.
The warrior was forced to continuously ascend the mountain without a moment of rest. Staying on a platform or holding onto the wall for more than a moment would result in becoming another corpse at the base of the mountain. The Envoy of Humanity did not fight and kill so many to die on a mountain.
The warrior fought on as he refused to buckle or yield to the immense deity before him. Since he was fighting something large, he decided to fight small. Move fast. Strike fast. Act like a fly when fighting an elephant or, in this instance, fight like a human when fighting a dragon. He zipped about as his legs explosively launched him about, moving further up the mountain as the dragon followed.
But even with this tactic of mobility, Xiaojun still found the dragon following him easily. It was as if he was chased by a golden shadow that trailed just behind him everywhere he went. If his feet landed onto ground, then the dragon would strike. If his hands clutched onto rocks, then the dragon would strike. If he even stopped to breathe, then the dragon would strike. This was still a one-sided battle.
As Xiaojun got higher, the air got thinner. It was as if he were breathing from a wet rag with his lungs feeling both the pressure and the weakness. He was being pushed to his limit as his bones and muscles became overloaded with exhaustion. But this wasn’t the first time he had felt this exhausted, and it wouldn’t be his last. He continued to ascend to the heavens, all the while in combat with the dragon of the mountains.
Then, as he jumped onto a new stone pulpit, the ground broke beneath his feet. The rock crumbled as he descended downward. Xiaojun was falling. Quickly, and with the sickening feeling of air stimulating his reflexes, he grabbed onto the dragon’s body and climbed himself onto the deity.
Feeling the tiny human on its hard scales, the dragon soared directly upwards, ascending even higher towards the mountain’s peak. Xiaojun’s grip was put to an ultimate test as he held onto the deity, knowing that letting go would mean death: another body at the base of the mountain. He felt the air get even thinner and the cold get even harsher. If hell was hot, this hell was cold.
Then he saw it: the peak of the mountain glistening with snow on its tip. At this peak, there was a cave. No, it was fortress. An abandoned one. It was a fortress constructed of ancient stone and brick as if built by ancient and withered gods the world could never even imagine again. Getting closer to this fortress, Xiaojun lunged off of the dragon and rolled upon landing. Still holding his guandao, he charged into the fortress, the deity following behind him.
The warrior charged through the titanic gate and could feel the golden dragon’s presence just behind him. He refused to look back, as such an action would slow him down enough to be devoured. Moving through the colossal corridors, Xiaojun scampered through the fortress like a mouse running from a tiger. He could see many bodies of preserved warriors as eons of arrogant adventurers decorated the place like a museum of travesty and tragedy. This was the graveyard of those fighting for greatness.
Then, ascending up a flight of stairs, Xiaojun came upon the great sight that so many had died for: the heavenly weapon worthy of gods. It was a guandao, similar to the one that Xiaojun wielded, but being in the mere presence of the weapon incited glory, power, and might. It had a strange property which allowed it to glow despite not even being painted yellow. The warrior could see dozens of mighty warriors, each one decorated in armor of their time, but each one had died reaching for the weapon without luck.
The voice of temptation touched into Xiaojun’s head. “Grab the weapon,” the voice told him, “take the weapon and kill the dragon. There is no need for further effort when we have fought for so long.” But, in a split-second, Xiaojun denied this voice. “No. This is a test,” he knew, “for the warriors had misplaced their goals and devotions. They forgot their cause. They died for a weapon instead of their honor.”
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Instead of reaching for the weapon, Xiaojun turned himself around. He watched as the dragon ascended the stairs, its great face being as imposing as the sun. For once, Xiaojun got a good look of the majestic deity’s face, as every other time he was much more focused on the impending attack or his survival. The golden dragon had a great maw which opened like a void as well as pupil-less eyes that could see 10,000 things. It was a sight worthy of art, but Xiaojun was not here for art. He was here to further his goal. The Envoy of Humanity was here to fight for his people.
The dragon breathed a great fire that Xiaojun barely avoided. The light was golden, and yet it could surpass even the hottest of blue flame. The heat could easily counteract the impossible cold as the golden fire roasted the frozen corpses into black lumps of ash. Had Xiaojun been a moment late, and he would’ve joined them.
Then, for the first time, Xiaojun struck against the dragon. He attempted to jam his weapon into the deity’s eye, but the eyelid of the dragon was enough to stop the blade from going any further. This was one of the only times mere flesh was capable of stopping Xiaojun and his strength. Quickly, the warrior had to jump back as the dragon nearly struck him with its countless fins.
In the chamber surrounding the heavenly weapon, Xiaojun made his stand against the dragon. Jumping on walls, pulpits, and anything he could stand on, he dodged and avoided each and every one of the dragon’s swift attacks. He swallowed all ideas of fear and pain as the only thought on his mind was victory. Not survival. Victory.
At any chance he had, he attempted to strike against the dragon. Getting close to the scaly flesh, he would attempt to strike the crack between each scale to no avail. Like layers of weaved metal, these scales provided impossibly strong protection as it continued to radiate a gold hue. There simply was no direct way to kill or even injure this deity.
That was when he realized his mistake. The mistake that he had made since coming face to face with the dragon. The same mistake that every single warrior had when entering this fortress, and when climbing this mountain. They had all seen this great dragon as a cruel god without care for even the kindest of men. They did not realize that the dragon, though great, was an animal, not a beast. If you cannot kill an animal, you can do your best to tame it. For that, he had to prove himself worthy.
Xiaojun waited for the perfect moment. He continued to dash about as stone and rubble flew with each one of the dragon’s missed attacks. He allowed the dragon to dance and smash against the walls in this large area, for Xiaojun was still waiting for the perfect moment. As soon as the dragon opened its mouth once more, Xiaojun seized the opportunity.
The fire, like earlier, was godly in heat and intensity, but it was powerful and could not be easily stopped. Using this to his advantage, Xiaojun moved and jumped onto the dragon’s back. Since the dragon could not simply turn its head, as that would burn its golden body, it had to continued facing forward. It could feel the warrior dash its little feet on its back as Xiaojun got closer and closer to its head.
It tried to stop him. It tried to slam the warrior against the wall. It tried to use its fins to slice him. It even tried using its tail to whip him. But all of these attacks missed as the mouselike Xiaojun refused to stop for even a second. He jumped onto the dragon’s head and held onto its ears as the great deity thrashed about, attempting to shake him off.
Xiaojun kept his grip, one that was even tougher than when the dragon was soaring upwards. He grimaced and sweat as the fight continued on. But as soon as the dragon stopped for a second, Xiaojun made his move. Holding his weapon high, he stabbed into the dragon’s flesh. Since the flesh easily stopped the impact, he stabbed it again. Many times, he stabbed within the fraction of a moment.
The metal of his guandao fragmented like bits of glass, as it may as well be a fragile material in the face of something so thick and strong. But Xiaojun knew this was going to happen. Finally, he successfully struck his weapon into the dragon’s skin. Golden blood oozed from the deity as it didn’t even give the subtlety of a scream, let alone pain. However, it was not Xiaojun’s goal to harm the deity. All he needed was something he could hold onto.
“Great dragon of the northern mountains!” he called, holding onto the implanted guandao as the dragon attempted to shake him off. “I am not here to quarrel with you or your domain! I am here for a great heavenly weapon in order to save mankind from the works of gods! If you do not wish for this, then kill me where I stand as I know you are far more than capable! But just know this: unless I am dead, I shall fight for that weapon!”
Finally, the dragon stopped. The golden blood continue to slightly flow. Then, strangely, the dragon began to laugh. The entire room was filled with echoic laughter fit for a titan as the dragon bellowed. “Human,” it said, “you are a strange one. One strange enough to be the incarnate of my previous master, and yet I am more than aware that you two are separate.”
It lay its head down, allowing Xiaojun to retrieve his weapon and speak to the deity. After taking his shattered weapon out of the dragon, he stepped off and faced the great deity face to face. “Who are you? Why do you defend this weapon?” Xiaojun asked.
The dragon laughed as it looked at the tiny human in front of it. “Foolish human. The reason I defend the weapon is because I am the spirit living in the weapon,” it said. “In a way, I, myself, am the weapon in every part of its being.” The dragon surrounded the tiny human with its body, surveying every part of Xiaojun like a curious sage. “I know what you are,” it said, “you are the foretold Envoy of Humanity.”
The dragon continued to speak on as it laughed. “Many years ago, when civilization was but an imagination, the border between the lands of demons and humans was as liquid as water. Humans were at the bottom of this cycle. They were prey. Spirits thought of the humans as nothing but weak beings encased in flesh, just like the rest of the animals living in your world. But I was proven wrong.”
The dragon faced Xiaojun once more, its pupil-less eyes blinking as it spoke on. “Jiu Zhu was his name. The man who saved humanity by first ensnaring my powerful presence into his weapon through shamanistic magic. He was the only man I allowed myself to call master, as all others who attempt to wield the golden weapon become vaporized into dust.”
The warrior looked at the weapon, knowing he was fortunate in dismissing his voice of temptation. Had he impulsively grabbed the weapon, he would’ve been another failed warrior to die on this mountain. “What happened to Jiu Zhu?” he asked.
“He formed a great party of powerful humans to revolt against the heavens. At that time, there was no such thing as the Four Beasts, or even the God of Purity which ensnared them. There were only powerful spirits, like me, and the almighty Yellow Emperor. As a result, Jiu Zhu and his party became famous as the humans who revolted against the rule of gods. They smashed spirits and demons into dust as they paved their way towards the palace of the Yellow Emperor.”
The dragon seemingly looked Xiaojun in the eye, like a soothsayer providing a warning. “Jiu Zhu had gotten ambitious. He tried to challenge the Yellow Emperor. I was in his hands, that day, as he pointed to the almighty god and said, ‘You are unfit to rule the heavens, for you rule with the hand of injustice!”
The dragon circled around the human, warning him of the result of ambition past. “Jiu Zhu and his party were defeated. Understanding that a new revolt from humanity could produce even more catastrophic results, he separated the heaven, hell, and earth. To create this seal, he transformed Jiu Zhu into the God of Purity, as his soul, even when coming face to face with the Yellow Emperor, was pure. As for the rest of his party, they were condemned into the Four Beasts.”
Xiaojun listened to every detail as his mind opened. This entire war he was fighting was the rest of Jiu Zhu wishing to fight against even higher beings. “But all was not well with this system, for Jiu Zhu was still human when he was transformed. He could never be pure. An alter ego of himself was born as a result, the one known as the Beast of Corruption.” Xiaojun understood it all. This entire war was the result of beings in eons past. If anything, this was just a recreation long awaiting.
“Enough Huanglong,” someone suddenly stated. Both of them looking at the door, they were surprised to see a man. No, a half-man. “Jin the Half-man,” the great dragon Huanglong huffed, “you, too, were in that great party against heaven.” The almighty half-demon nodded, his teeth still ever sharp. “I had retreated before the battle against the Yellow Emperor commenced. I was fortunate in doing so.”
Xiaojun presented his broken weapon to Jin with a sense of apology. “I destroyed your weapon. I understand that this cannot be forgiven,” he said with a bow. But the half-man just picked up the weapon and its many exploded shards. “Do not believe this is a curse,” he said, “once this weapon is reconstructed into something even stronger, then this will be nothing but a gift.” He then looked at the great dragon, smiling as he did so. “You have successfully gained Huanglong’s admiration. That is extraordinary.”
The dragon hummed as it got closer to the Golden Blade. “Truly, Envoy of Man, you have proven yourself worthy. Though I may not have high hopes for your adventure, as I have been jaded by experiences, I will be more than filial enough to guide you in your journey.” It gave a bow, and then it phased itself into the weapon where it belonged.
Xiaojun walked towards the Golden Blade, feeling its significance to a spiritual scale. Then, he clasped his hands around it, feeling the power and energy course through his body. With a great pull, he retrieved it from the ground. He was now the one true owner of the Golden Blade.
“You have gotten closer to reaching the strength of the Four Beasts,” Jin said. “When I fought alongside them all those centuries ago, they were the strongest of any being. Now, they are even stronger. You still have many more li to go, great envoy. Still, your strength is nothing but commendable.”
Xiaojun held his new powerful weapon as he prepared himself. “Thank you, Jin. Without you, this opportunity would’ve never arisen.” He remembered the great distances ahead of him. The climb down. The Northern Wastes. The demons. The Four Beasts. The Beast of Corruption. Nina. “In my journey of a thousand li,” he said, “I have yet to take even my first step.” With that, he stomped forward. “I shall give humanity its fighting chance back, one battle at a time.”