With Noguchi on board, Jiaguo had officially made its first foothold in Yamato. The lord’s forces weren’t much greater than Jiaguo’s army—only a few hundred soldiers, mostly consisting of draftees and a few trusted veterans. Integrating them into the existing forces wouldn’t be easy, but Jin Hu and Long Ruiling had been hard at work winning over the men and women of Yamato.
While his military contribution was arguably meager, Noguchi surprised Kaede by providing something arguably even more valuable.
“You’ll need to be careful who you approach with this, my lady. I’m sure you have no illusions about this being an entirely bloodless war, but if I might be as bold as to presume that you’d like to avoid fighting until you’ve amassed as many followers as possible, then we need to talk targets.”
Kaede raised an eyebrow at the young lord—though he was actually older than she was—as he unfurled a map of the surrounding regions and flattened it out on a table in the palace’s main hall.
“No offense, but I hadn’t exactly pegged you as a strategist.”
He scoffed.
“You’d be right. I don’t know the first thing about warfare—never really had the constitution for it. I think my father secretly wished I’d had a brother or sister who could have inherited in my stead. But I haven’t held on to my position by being clueless.”
“Alright. What do you have in mind?”
He started placing colored pins in the map, each representing adjacent provinces.
“Red pins are the staunch loyalists. You won’t find too many this far north, but they’re around. Many of them were Hayakawa adherents before your father became shogun. They will side with your father no matter what.”
Kaede frowned down at the map. While there weren’t many red pins, they were always in particularly important places. She could see her father’s handiwork—installing his most trusted vassals in key locations and using his detractors and enemies as bait. It would be difficult to proceed without either going through loyalist territory or placing themselves in a vulnerable position—liable to be attacked from multiple sides, their retreat cut off.
“Don’t make that face, I’m not done yet!”
She looked askance at Lord Noguchi, who coughed awkwardly.
“I mean, erm, my lady. These blue pins are mostly lesser lords of little consequence. If I’m being brutally honest, I myself likely fall into this category. I can’t be certain that they will be willing to follow you, but at the very least they can be trusted to be mercenary about it.”
He indicated a few provinces that were out of the way and strategically unimportant. Attempting to travel through those lands would be a considerable detour, and would make linking up with Ienaga much more difficult.
“Finally, the green pins. These are a mixture of Ienaga’s vassals, open dissidents, and lords or ladies who’ve been personally slighted by your father. If given the opportunity, many of them would be happy to join your rebellion.”
“Rebellion?”
“That’s what it’s going to be treated as, I’m certain. The shogun will do everything he can to delegitimize your challenge. Acknowledging you as the leader of a foreign nation makes you look far too strong, and entertaining your claim to the clan leadership is right out. Shogun Hayakawa is more than just a warlord—he’s a shrewd strategist.”
Kaede sighed in exasperation.
“I know that. I was raised by him.”
“Yes, of course. Which is exactly the point. He’s going to try to frame this as the petulant act of a rebellious child, or an old rival wielding the corpse of his former heir in an attempt to discredit him. Either way, it’s a rebellion.”
“I see. I’m more concerned about how we’re going to proceed. If this map is accurate, then the best route forward would be through Lord Fujiwara’s province here.”
She tapped a location on the map—a green region flanked by a pair of bright red pins.
“Except that whether Fujiwara cooperates or not, his neighbors will take advantage.”
“Yes, that’s why I suggest going straight though Lord Kurokawa.”
Noguchi placed a small figurine on one of the red provinces next to Fujiwara’s land. Kaede narrowed her eyes at the grinning lord.
“You want us to march directly into heavily fortified enemy territory? How is that supposed to be ‘avoiding fighting’?”
“Oh, it’s not. You’ll have to battle Kurokawa’s forces—and they are some of the most formidable in the region. I’m no strategist, but I’d expect a very long and bloody battle.”
“I’m assuming you either have more to say, or this is a very poorly attempted sabotage.”
He coughed once.
“The former. If we can push through Kurokawa, then the lands beyond belong mostly to Ienaga’s vassals. More hardship now in exchange for an easier path later.”
“That’s not bad, actually. Once we connect with Ienaga we’ll have a proper army at our back. If we can do that before my father has time to react, then we’ll be in a much stronger position to hold our ground and advance further south.”
“Thank you, my lady! There is one small caveat, though—aside from the challenge of the battle itself. Not all of Ienaga’s vassals remain loyal to their overlords. Lord Ienaga’s declining health is well known, and his support has been waning ever since your father claimed the title of shogun from him.”
Kaede grimaced.
“What about Master Ienaga? The people love her, don’t they?”
He nodded amicably.
“Oh, of course. Even in the face of the Shogun’s accusations, Ienaga Yumi remains a popular figure with widespread support. However, her decision to remove herself from civil conflicts—while laudable—has left the Ienaga clan without any heir to speak of. Master Ienaga is a hero, but her clan doesn’t get much credit for it.”
“I see. I suppose we’ll just have to take our chances, then.”
Noguchi grinned and shook his head.
“Hardly! I can tell you with certainty which lords and ladies will side with Ienaga and which ones are simply waiting for the right moment to plunge their daggers into his back. War isn’t my forte, but relationships, I know well.”
“I would find that much easier to believe if you hadn’t once invited us—I mean, Lee Jia and An Eui to bed. Surely you should have noticed that they are lovers.”
He shrugged carelessly.
“Obviously—I’m not blind. But sometimes a man has to gamble, even when he knows he’ll lose.”
“I was beginning to think you might have a knack for strategy after all, but I take it back. You’d be a horrible strategist.”
“Alas. Do let me know if there’s anything else you need before you set out. I will be staying safely within my castle walls, but my resources are yours.”
Kaede bowed.
“You have my gratitude, Lord Noguchi. Lord Ienaga advised me to travel through your lands first because he thought you were cowardly and incompetent. I apologize for agreeing with him—you’re a better man than I realized.”
He chuckled wryly and returned the bow.
This story originates from a different website. Ensure the author gets the support they deserve by reading it there.
“No apology necessary. By the standards of warlords like Ienaga and your father, I probably am. When this is all over, please be sure to invite those beautiful friends of yours to be my guests once more.”
She looked askance at him.
“You really never learn, do you?”
“Some lessons aren’t worth listening to.”
“Incorrigible. I pity the poor woman who ever agrees to be your wife.”
He put a hand over his heart in mock indignation.
“You wound me, my lady! As if I would ever settle for only one!”
Kaede shook her head and turned away, refusing to dignify that with a response. She was already starting to reconsider her earlier compliment.
----------------------------------------
Yi Lan sat in the middle of an elaborate formation, surrounded by some of the most powerful people she’d ever known, staring down at an elixir of her own creation. Her first real attempt at proper immortal alchemy.
She’d been working on it for weeks—not counting the months of conceptual work, theory, and cultivation spent in preparation. Yi Lan wished that someone else could have handled the creation of the pill itself—but Luo Mingyu insisted that it had to be her. Nobody could make an awakening elixir for her.
If only he was here to check her work. Not that she didn’t trust her master, or Lin Xiulan, or the High Arbiter—all of whom agreed that her work was good, and all of whom were now patiently waiting for her to test it.
Well, not all of them were patient. Luo Huang tapped his foot, frowning.
“Get on with it already! We haven’t got all day!”
Lin Xiulan tutted at the old doctor.
“Don’t rush her—this is a delicate procedure. If your apprentice dies, who’s going to take care of all your patients?”
The doctor grunted, and Yi Lan suppressed a smile. Ever since she’d managed to awaken as a mage, she’d been so much sharper and more aware, and her mind was like a steel trap. She’d been able to quickly refine her master’s poultice recipes, extrapolate proper lessons from his half-hearted directions, and even piece together a few forgotten techniques that her master had lost in his idle years.
In short, she’d surpassed him as an apothecary. He didn’t even try anymore—glad to be free of the work—and Miss Wu Yuan had been very supportive of her endeavors. It was hard work running the apothecary while also studying in the academy full time, but Yi Lan felt like she’d finally found a purpose beyond serving the old couple who’d taken her in after her parents died.
She liked alchemy. It was so fascinating learning about the different ways that living essence could interact. Coming up with theories about how to generalize Mingyu’s awakening potion had been some of the most fun she’d ever had, but now that she had to test them it was nerve-wracking.
Lee Jia sat down in front of her and offered a comforting smile.
“It’s okay if you’re not feeling up to it. Don’t force yourself—you have to be calm in order to perform the meditation.”
Oh great—now they were taking pity on her. Yi Lan grimaced and shook her head.
“No—you did all this setup just for me. I’m sure you’ve got better things to do than entertain my cowardice.”
Lin Xiulan shook her head.
“The preparations will remain until you’re ready. Lee Jia is right—you shouldn’t push yourself.”
“No, it’s fine. I’m fine! I can do this.”
She took a deep breath to calm herself. It was just meditation—like always. She ran through the steps in her mind. Take the pill, focus her essence into it, guide the energy through her body and into her dantian, then out through the meridians.
It was the opposite of typical awakening, where corruption was pushed through the meridians and into the dantian, where it was then removed through breathing exercises. Only very young children who hadn’t yet built up much corruption could awaken that way.
Yi Lan had been careful to practice and master the meditative techniques to sense the essence within her body and soul, and though she hadn’t yet awakened in those disciplines, she knew the path her essence would need to take.
Normally, guiding essence through her body and into her soul would be impossible as a mage, but that’s precisely what the elixir was for. If it worked, the essence from her aura would be absorbed directly into her body via the pill—conveniently placed very close to the connection with her dantian.
Then, it was just a matter of directing enough of it through one of her meridians to forge a clear pathway through which she could cultivate for herself and purge the remaining corruption to open the rest of her meridians.
Since all of the essence being used was hers and not from an external source like a beast core, it was theoretically perfectly safe, even if she failed. But this was a product of alchemy—by nature, some of the essence came from the pill’s ingredients.
That had been the greatest obstacle. It had to be something she created herself, and it had to be something with ingredients gentle enough that a mortal could imbibe them safely.
In theory, her elixir fit that criteria but...well, she was an amateur. What if her theories were wrong?
Then she had the most powerful healers in the world at her side. It would be fine. She would be fine.
With one last burst of willpower, Yi Lan picked up the pill and hastily swallowed it before she could get second thoughts.
For a moment, nothing happened—then the pill hit her stomach and the energy burst within her. Her aura was exhausted in an instant as the elixir concentrated everything she had into a single intense stream.
It was more painful than she’d expected. Lee Jia and Mingyu had warned her that it wouldn’t be pleasant, even powered by her own essence. Yi Lan focused intently on the fiery bead of power in her belly, already beginning to wane. She didn’t have much time.
She guided the essence through her body, relying on a combination of the meditation techniques she’d learned after being put through grueling exercises, and her knowledge of anatomy to plot the most efficient course.
From her stomach to her gut, from her gut to her bloodstream, from there to a point just below her navel but not quite all the way down to her womb. There, she felt it—an arterial meridian. One of the links between her physical body and her metaphysical presence.
She pushed her way through, exhausting more than half of the elixir’s remaining power just to make it to her dantian on the other side. Yi Lan felt a pull on the essence now that it was within her core—her dantian naturally trying to circulate the essence within it, to refine it into part of her soul. She resisted.
With her remaining power, Yi Lan picked a meridian that she’d already felt out with her meditation practice and pushed against it. It didn’t budge.
She almost panicked, but after all the work she’d put in she refused to ruin it by breaking her focus. Her research had indicated that arterial meridians were more difficult to open than regular ones. Yoshika had said so, and that had been corroborated by nearly every unified cultivator except one.
Lee Narae.
Narae was the only cultivator who was known to have awakened directly with a unified discipline. She’d practiced the same three meditations that Yi Lan had, and she’d awakened them all at once.
It was hard to get straight answers out of such a young girl, but Narae had described her awakening as a burst of power that had exploded out from within her. When asked about the arterial meridians that gave her peers so much trouble, she simply shrugged and said that by the time she’d awakened, they were already cleared.
As the remaining power quickly faded, Yi Lan formed a new theory. Corruption in the outer meridians was formed as a natural result of day-to-day mortal life. Every breath a mortal took, every bite of food, every drink of water carried a small amount of unusable essence. Without the ability to refine it, that essence simply stagnated and gathered within them as corruption.
But the inner meridians—the arterial connections between body, mind, and soul—were only corrupted in cultivators. After all, that corrupted essence had to go somewhere and while each discipline had its own way of sorting that out, the inner meridians were something of a blind spot.
That would also explain why more advanced cultivators had so much trouble breaking through to unify their cultivation. The more they practiced, the more densely packed that inner corruption became.
Yi Lan hadn’t been cultivating long. Maybe she still had a chance.
She acted without hesitation, guiding what remained of her elixir’s power back up through the freshly opened meridian, into her veins, up through her heart, and to the connection from her body to her mind.
This wasn’t what she had practiced. It wasn’t part of the plan. She was taking a huge risk, but it felt right. Yi Lan pushed with everything she had. The meridian connecting her body to her mind was more corrupt than the first had been—no doubt because she’d been practicing as a mage. She didn’t have enough power left to open it.
Scrunching up her face in concentration, Yi Lan pulled on the essence within her body to fuel the elixir’s power. She’d been warned against that—totally exhausting one’s essence could be fatal for half-spirits and extremely damaging for regular humans. But she didn’t need everything. Just enough to—
There! She gasped as the power burst through and reunited with her aura. Now connected to her original base of power, she focused intently on meditating to recover her essence. Her body and dantian greedily drank in the essence around her, quickly depleting everything she could reach.
She felt a gentle push from all around her, a soft trickle of essence so dense that she was afraid it would damage her if she tried to absorb it all at once. Yi Lan let it diffuse into her aura and replenish her body and soul until she finally reached a steady balance.
With a sigh of relief, Yi Lan cracked open her eyes to find Lee Jia kneeling next to her, meeting her gaze with a bright smile and a steadying hand on her back.
“Good job! Looks like it worked!”
It worked. It worked!
Yi Lan had done it! She’d managed to awaken not only her spiritual cultivation, but an entire unified foundation. Her celebration was cut short by a sudden knot in her stomach, a wave of nausea unlike anything she’d ever felt.
Luo Huang and Lin Xiulan both stepped back in anticipation, but Lee Jia stayed right where she was, producing a bucket from somewhere and placing it in Yi Lan’s hands.
She didn’t have time to question it as her gorge rose. Lee Jia’s gentle hand rubbing her back was a small comfort while she emptied the contents of her stomach into the mercifully bottomless bucket.
In an attempt to escape the awful smell and even worse taste, Yi Lan retreated to a cold, analytical part of her mind, which wryly observed that she’d awakened as a body cultivator without sweating out the corruption.
But as she’d already observed, and was now experiencing first-hand—it had to go somewhere.