Thoroughly enjoying my time in the spotlight, I ride towards the docks with head held high and chest puffed out, playing my part as Number One Talent in the North to perfection. All of Nan Ping is watching me make my way over to present my gift to the Legate, but I’m neither nervous nor afraid. Well, that’s not entirely true, but I’m mostly invigorated and excited, ready to do my thing and accept my accolades. It’s just one of many changes I’ve noted since my post-Awakened revelation, an underlying arrogance which has always been there but I mostly siphoned off to ‘Baledagh’. This new, amalgamated Falling Rain will take some getting used to, but with time at a premium, I’ve no choice but to dive in headfirst and let the current of emotions carry me away.
So long as I don’t get too carried away...
Upon reaching the docks, I find three of my peers standing there with their retinues. Taking a cue from the Marshals I suppose, waiting for everyone to arrive before greeting the Legate together in a show of solidarity and friendship. Having done my research, I recognize them as the three male members of the Hwarang, Central’s flower knights, but rather than stand around in awkward silence for a show of insincere harmony and falsified solidarity, I treat them with cool disdain and pretend they don’t exist, riding past them and onto the floating stage. My fellow northerners cheer and applaud while the other spectators jeer and grumble, and I soak it all in. Solidarity is nice and all, but as the only Northern representative out of the nine youths called up, I’m a little outnumbered and a prime target for bullying. I wanted Mila, Song, Fung, Huu, BoShui, and Zian to temporarily ‘join’ my retinue and come on stage with me, but they all refused and my plan to bully my outer-provincial rivals with numbers fell through. Now it’s just me and Dastan against the world up here, which means I need to show the five youths from Central and three from the South that I’m not intimidated by their numbers or reputation.
Besides, this is so much fun. The look on their faces once they realized what I was doing... priceless.
Calling a halt at a hundred paces from the dais, I stand at attention and wait for permission to approach, permission which never comes. Casually glancing to the side, the Legate appears to be discussing matters with his seneschal, but in reality, he’s delaying until my peers take the stage. A small reprimand for jumping the line perhaps, telling me he values the illusion of unity above all else, but it’s not a big deal. The important thing is fortune favours the bold, the Legate favours the Divine Turtle, and Ping Ping favours me, so all those kids back there can suck it.
With nothing better to do, I make sure my soldiers are in place and behaving appropriately while we wait, which takes all of a second. They know what’s at stake and every last one of them looks excited to be here. Even Guan Suo’s Protectorate dressed up for the occasion, wearing their least tattered outfits and combing their beards, though the big grumpy grandpa is nowhere to be seen. Likewise, the monk is also conspicuously absent, but I’m sure they’re both nearby. There aren’t many tells for Concealed Experts out here on this massive, mostly empty raft, though I’m surprised it’s holding so well under Ping Ping’s weight, not to mention the fifteen-hundred plus soldiers now standing on board, with at least six hundred more when Central and South’s finest arrive.
All that is neither here nor there. I’m pleased to have such a large audience here to see me present my gifts. There are people in every window and on every rooftop, out in the streets and lined up along the shore, as if every man, woman, and child in Nan Ping was here to take part in this historic occasion. If I look closely, I can almost see Baatar, Sarnai, Akanai, and Husolt sitting on their manor balconies, and I know Lin and Mila are somewhere on the beach. They’re probably snuggled up with Song and my fur-babies and cheering me on with all their hearts. There are millions of people watching my every movement, tracking me as I smile and wave, their faces lighting up as they wave back. It’s an incredible feeling standing here on stage and I’m grateful for the opportunity. This gift-giving business is mostly bullshit, but it serves my purposes well enough. With the entire city and the majority of Martial Warriors from the outer provinces as my witnesses, it’ll be all but impossible to figuratively bury my gift in the dirt.
Making one last effort to get Blackjack off of my banner, I pray the baby hare doesn’t poop on anyone and turn my attention back to the Legate, studying his armour with professional interest. And greed. So much greed, but mostly, professional interest. You know, in case I have to take him hostage to make my escape or something. Seated beneath his silken canopy, surrounded by the four ever-present bodyguards, and attended to by his seneschal, the Legate’s youthful good looks are on full display for Nan Ping to adore. He’s a good looking man, I’ll give him that, but I think it works against him here. The citizens of the Empire want someone to depend on or look up to, someone who they feel will protect and guide them, but at maybe thirty years old, the Legate is far too young to fit the bill.
I have to admit, he does look striking sitting up there in his fancy armour and sitting on his comfy, cushioned throne. He blends in so well with his Royal Guardians, you’d think they were wearing identical outfits, gold-plated armour over red silk robes. Upon closer inspection, I discover that like a hare and a rabbit, the differences are subtle, but significant. Where the Royal Guardians have interlocking scale armour and simple robes, the Legate wears sturdy plate and an embroidered robe that almost shimmers with power. Their helmets are different too, with the Royal Guardians’ wearing plain and rounded hats while the Legate’s helmet has winged sides and a long, red plait of ‘hair’ sprouting from the top. Then there’s the decorations, with the Royal Guardians sporting lions emblazoned on their spaulders and belts, while the Legate has dragons and barely perceptible inscriptions etched across the metal surface of his armour. I’d bet every copper I own that the Legate is dressed from head to toe in Runic gear, meaning his helmet, robes, breastplate, spaulders, gloves, boots, greaves, and probably codpiece too. Hell, I wouldn’t be surprised if the open-mouthed dragon on his belt was another Runic item, shooting concentrated beams of love to turn his enemies into friends.
Or turn them into a pile of unrecognizable goop. Probably the latter, but one can dream.
So extravagant. If I were a proper MC with plot armour, I’d have transmigrated into an Imperial Scion and risen to glory, but no. I’m playing on hard mode with the slave start, so boo-urns to that. It’s vexing how the Imperial Clan hoards their secrets instead of spreading the wealth, but I can understand why. Knowledge is power, and the Imperials have built an Empire on hidden power. All this has made me revise my opinion of Shen Zhenwu, the ‘Divine True Warrior’. Whether he’s worthy of such a haughty name or not, he’s no paper tiger. It takes an advanced Martial Warrior with above average Chi reserves to power so many Runic items at once, and even wearing them requires some effort to sustain. Without Chi, his Runic armour would be as useful as the metal it’s made from, which means the Legate is either an Expert or an idiot showing off his wealth. For now, I’m inclined to think the former, because I’d rather not believe the Emperor sent an idiot to oversee the defence of the outer provinces.
The most convincing evidence of the Legate’s prowess was the rousing speech he gave, going on about valiant soldiers defending the borders and what not. Don’t get me wrong, it was a pretty speech and the Legate delivered it well, but almost all of it was trite garbage. As his speech went on, I noticed most people around me were drawn in by his voice, his words holding their attention in an almost supernatural manner. Their eyes burned with reverence and worship, as if ready to fall to their knees and prostrate before Imperial Authority. Mila and Li Song, Jochi and Argat, even Ravil and Jorani had a look of respect in their eyes, which is how I knew something was wrong.
Not everyone was affected though. Dastan, Sahb, Ulfsaar, Neera, and Wang Bao were all unaffected, though I didn’t see how others reacted, like Taduk, Lin, Guard Leader, and a few other notable Experts. The five from my retinue who weren’t affected were also, at one point, almost Defiled, but there were many others who were almost Defiled and also affected by the Legate’s speech, so that can’t be why we’re immune. The only other reason I can think of is maybe it’s a combination of having almost been Defiled and being in possession of a Natal Palace. We don’t really have anything else in common, not that I can think of anyways.
The Legate’s Oration skill, as I’m calling it, has me more than a little shook up, my first true glimpse at the power wielded by the Imperial Clan. It could be the Legate’s Talent and why he was sent here, or it could be a super secret Imperial skill, but either way, I’m starting to suspect the Emperor intends to leave the outer provinces to face the Defiled hordes on our own. Maybe they want to see which way the wind blows before committing their forces, or maybe they don’t care about what happens to any of us as long as the Defiled don’t bother them. Whatever their reasons, Yuzhen was right to gift much-needed resources for the war effort and appease the Legate with a worthless painting, and I wish I’d followed in her footsteps.
At least ten minutes pass before the other young talents take the stage, marching side by side in an empty spectacle of unity and cooperation. Unfortunately for them, I planted my retinue directly in front of the Legate, which means they’re forced to split up and stand on either side of my five-hundred plus soldiers. Even better, the three Southerners insist on standing to my left so their people can see them from shore, forcing the eight young talents and all their soldiers to awkwardly shuffle about to get into place.
Not bothering to hide my glee, I stand and grin while imagining what it would’ve been like if my friends had come along with me. Not only would we have eight top-tier talents to match their combined eight, we’d also have a thousand soldiers to their measly six-hundred, since two of the Hwarang lack an official rank. With three-hundred soldiers on either side, it gives the impression of strength in the north, having not only brought the most troops, but only needing one person to represent them.
What can I say? This is my fault, I’m just too awesome, shining so brightly my peers in the north can’t measure up.
Once everyone finds their place, the Legate gives a short speech about us ‘heroes of tomorrow’ before inviting the Southern young warriors to present their gifts. Having done my research, it’s nice to finally put faces to the names, though for the South, there’s only one name that matters. Quyen Dienne, the dour, ruddy-cheeked son of Southern Marshal Quyen Huong, leads the other two representatives to greet the Legate and present his gifts. While they exchange pleasantries, I take a measure of the dark-skinned, thin moustached southerners and find them... lacking. Dressed in colourful orange, red, and blue lamellar armour, all three men carry the same weapon over their shoulder, a long-handled scimitar with a thin, curved blade which almost touches the floor. Dienne is the only one who speaks because the other two are his Oath-sworn bodyguards, chosen from among hundreds of youths vying for the honour. Pompous, conceited, and full of disdain for anyone ‘beneath’ him, there’s nothing about Dienne that tells me he deserves the honour of number one talent in the South. I suspect he’s only up here because his daddy pulled the right strings and murdered the right people, making him nothing more than the paper tiger of the South.
Disgraceful. I should make an example of him, show the Empire he doesn’t deserve to stand beside me...
After dismissing Dienne and his bodyguards, the Legate shoots me a disapproving glare before summoning the Hwarang forward, silently signalling I shouldn’t make a fuss about being last to present. It seems I’m doing a terrible job at waiting patiently, but I’m just so excited to be up here. This is my chance to make a difference and nobody has to die for it. Maybe it’s a mistake, or maybe nothing comes of it, but with my family’s support, I’m committed to this path.
For better or for worse.
Unlike Dienne and his cronies, every member of the Hwarang deserve to be here and they individually present their gifts in no particular order. First up is Mitsue Hideo, great nephew and Disciple of the Obsidian Shadow Mitsue Juichi, a celebrated Central Expert like Du Min Gyu. At twenty-four years old, the handsome and heroic Mitsue Hideo is rumoured to have comprehended the essence of his Mentor’s Talent, the Mountain Collapsing Stomp. Supposedly a combination of Resonance, Amplification, Honing, and Stability, for Hideo to not only use all four skills in tandem and project it from his body is a testament to his talent and dedication. A formidable opponent especially on this floating stage, where he could easily destroy multiple sections of the platform with a single step. Wielding twin maces which look more like batons, his style of attack is not unlike my own, closing the gap in an instant to crush his opponent in the first blow.
His fancy tricks won’t matter if you beat him down fast. Counter charge and trade blows. If he hesitates, he’s done for. If he stays the course, stab beats swing any day of the week. Easy Victory.
Next up is Wu Gam, Disciple to the Eccentric also known as Gam. The fifth to bear the name, Wu Gam literally means Gam Five, a name bestowed upon him by the Eccentric, a strange and peculiar demi-human obsessed with raising a flawless Disciple to carry on his legacy. A self-proclaimed perfectionist, the Eccentric is rumoured to have personally killed Gams two through four for failing to live up to expectations, with Wu Gam being his latest, and possibly last chance to raise a successor. Luckily for him, the Eccentric learned from his mistakes and Wu Gam is his strongest disciple yet, a twenty-three year old Awakened Expert of the Empire whose slender build belies his prodigious strength. Wielding a stone staff and dressed in plain, brown robes, his two furry silver-fox ears poke out of his close cropped hair, a demi-human lineage shared by all five Gams. His yellow-gold eyes hold a muted, deadened look, not something you usually see on the face of accomplished Expert Blessed by Earth, especially one supposedly highly proficient in its usage.
His Blessing of Earth makes him both strong and sturdy. You can’t match him in raw power, so don’t. Stay light on your feet, make him come to you, and when he slips up, strike a decisive blow. All the power in the world doesn’t matter if he can’t connect, so move like a butterfly and sting like a rampaging Ping Ping.
Third up is the lovely Ryo Seoyoon, who succeeded her brother Geom-Chi’s spot in the Hwarang. Bereft of rank and looking out of place among so many gruff warriors, the enchanting young woman is accompanied by a pair of handmaidens in flowing white robes, each one cradling a sword in their arms. Wearing a traditional silken dress in red and white and more accessories than I previously believed possible, the slender yet buxom Seoyoon is the youngest warrior present at eighteen years old. No damsel in distress, there’s something about the look in her eyes which warns me to be careful, a cold, calculating glare which sees only an obstacle in her path instead of a flesh and blood person. Following in the footsteps of her gifted older brother, accomplished eldest sister, and provincially-revered father, she has big shoes to fill and will go to great lengths to succeed.
You should warn Fung to stay away from her, but that’d only encourage him. May the Mother have mercy on his soul if he earns her affection. Either way, treat her like Zian and you should have no problems winning. She’s young and has something to prove, so maybe rile her up beforehand, but try not to damage your reputation.
Fourth on the list is Yong-Jin, Disciple of Grasping Vine Shuai Jiao, a man I would describe as Central’s Nian Zu. Though Awakened to the Blessing of Wood like his Mentor, Yong-Jin’s accomplishments are solely based on his Martial prowess alone, having never publicly shown any sign of mastery over his element. Adept at close-quarters grappling, the nondescript and plainly dressed twenty-four year old man only recently acquired his status in the Hwarang, as he was previously too busy serving as a Captain in the Imperial Army for games of fame and fortune. Hailing from humble origins, Yong-Jin enlisted at age fifteen and took part in suppressing three rebellions and rose to the rank of Captain by his own merits. Only then did Shuai Jiao take notice and accept Yong-Jin as his first and only Disciple.
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He’s not a bad dude and really knows how to rock a man-bun. If you have to fight him, try not to humiliate him too much. Then again, it might go the other way. His weapons of choice are a reverse-grip short sword and battle gauntlet, which means his range is even shorter than yours, not something you’re great at dealing with. A tricky opponent, so play it by ear and don’t let him grab you.
...Why are you giving yourself advice in the second person? C’mon man, get your shit together. This multiple personality shtick is so last week.
The last member of the Hwarang holds no rank and bears a familiar face, shooting me a captivating wink which steals my breath away as she prepares to meet the Legate. Adujan, or Du Min Yan now, looks stunning in her tight silk pants and form-fitting tunic, mouthing something to me as she passes by. ‘Still no smile?’. What does that mean? Oh right... Last time we ‘reunited’, she got jealous because I was too busy ogling Yuzhen to say hi. Told me it wouldn’t kill me to give her a smile instead of staring at a pretty stranger, and I promised I’d keep that in mind for our next reunion. Feeling guilty about forgetting, I put on a smile and watch Yan strut across stage, her long, slender legs making her hips roll in a seductive and hypnotic manner. Striking a courtly bow, her plump, peach-shaped posterior is on full display right before my eyes and it takes every scrap of self-control to keep myself from drooling. All I can think about is how close we used to be, spending our days training and rolling in the dirt and our nights laying side by side in our tiny, cramped tent...
If I have to fight Yan, I’d rather not do it on stage in front of everyone. It’d be much better to have a match in my large, spacious yurt where my nice, comfy bed is... Is it hot out here? It feels hot. Damn, I could use a drink. And a couple minutes of privacy. With all the craziness going on in my head and so many stealthy protectors slinking around, I haven’t been able to... relieve myself all week...
Finished with her meeting, Yan strides back to her place in line with a radiant smile, paying me no mind as the smile slips from my face. Well... it’s probably better this way. We’ve been separated for over a year now, and I have Lin and Mila to think about. I can’t be collecting wives like bottle-caps or shiny stones, they’re flesh and blood people, not pretty dolls for me to sate my needs. I’m sure Yan has plenty of gentlemanly suitors and she always talked about having a harem of her own, so I shouldn’t be surprised when she -
“Boss. It’s our turn.”
Dastan’s reminder puts an end to my musings and I realize I’ve been called to approach. Taking a deep breath to calm my nerves, I approach the dais with Dastan and Sahb to greet the Legate with a bow. “Imperial Servant Falling Rain greets Imperial Legate.”
Alrighty then. You can do this buddy. You prepared in advance, asked for advice, and have a backup plan in case things go bad. Don’t sweat it. Just... roll the dice.
“Rise.” Gesturing for the Crier to remain silent, the Legate addresses me in a conversational tone. “Dispense with formalities a moment, though I fear I can’t offer you a seat this time.” Flashing a grin, his smile grows as he inspects Dastan and Sahb, though it falters once it returns to me, his eyebrow quirking in question. “You’ve... diminished since we last met. Troubles?” Switching to Sending, he adds, “Were you attacked and injured? Your Natal Palace has notably regressed.”
What? He can see that? Playing it cool, I shrug and answer, “Oh. Nothing to worry about, I grew tired of the mountain view. Felt like I needed a change, but haven’t decided what yet.” It’s too depressing to think about...
“A costly sacrifice for a change of scenery.” His tone remains unconvinced, but he doesn’t press for more.
Costly? Not really, maybe a couple days work. Okay, a week or two, tops. I’d also have to make another me to sit inside the Natal Palace if I want to make it huge, but that’s no big deal. Those mental constructs are like blanks, with nothing going on upstairs, only doing what I tell them to do. It doesn’t even have to look like me if I don’t want it to, I could leave the original Fluffy Bunnykins in there if I felt like it. Answer the Legate, say something vague. “Sometimes, taking a step back lets you see the whole picture.” Oh shit. Can he see everything? Did he see me talking to myself? Or worse, did he see Blobby? Probably not, since I’m still breathing, but who knows. “Do you see everything in there?”
Smirking, the Legate answers my question with two questions of his own. “Why do you ask? Have you something to hide?”
Smarmy jerk. “See, sometimes I like to conjure up a few women and -”
“Stop.” Still smiling, the Legate shakes his head with a rueful chuckle. “Oh you are a refreshing breath of fresh air.” Our private conversation comes to an end as he infuses his voice with Chi and Speaks for all to hear. “Warrant Officer Falling Rain and Attendant to the Divine Turtle, show us what gift you have prepared.”
The Legate’s words elicit an audible gasp from everyone watching, and after a moment of silence, the city erupts into applause. This was the first time the Legate addressed anyone by name or rank. Hell, even the Marshals were referred to as ‘Imperial Servant’. Guess he wants everyone to know how much he values me, which is a nice gesture, but it doesn’t really cost him anything. Playing my part, I bow and wait for silence before I reply. “This humble servant has prepared several gifts for the occasion, most of which are geared towards the future of the Empire.” The Crier repeats my words for everyone to hear, including myself. It’s a little disorienting, like hearing a reverse echo, with the Crier’s voice sounding louder and clearer than even my own, but I push on. Gesturing to Dastan and Sahb, they hand over a chest to the Legate’s guards, who inspect its contents before bring it up for him to peruse.
The Legate’s confusion is plain to see, but I hold my tongue and let him make the first move. Taking the thick, leather-bound book sitting on top, he flips it open and runs his fingers over the pages with an intrigued look. “This paper... it’s marvellously light and thin, more-so than any I’ve ever come across.”
“A new process discovered by a group of brilliant minds in the North, working together towards the betterment of all.” I’m laying it on a little thick, but this is exciting. “Presently, paper is made from dried and pressed reeds in a lengthy and costly process. The book’s paper is made from tree bark, old linen rags, and hemp waste. Using a single water powered mill, my people can make hundreds of sheets in a single day at minimal cost, current estimates sitting at one copper per square meter with plenty of room to improve.” As if it’s an afterthought, I add, “The details of the paper-making process are all laid out on the first few pages, and this one hopes to share it with the Emperor and anyone else who so desires it.”
Socialism, Ho!
“Giving away ideas are we? And here I thought you were handing over a lucrative business industry.”
The Legate’s good natured jest has an edge to it and I bow to hide my satisfaction. “If that is the Legate’s desire, then this one will comply.”
Playing along, the Legate asks the question on everyone's mind. “Why then, do you intend to give away such a valuable discovery?”
“For the betterment of the Empire.” Straightening up, I keep my shoulders slouched and head drooped, showing no pride in my accomplishments and that I care nothing for wealth. Truth be told, I’m not all that into money. It’s nice to have, spend and look at, but that’s about it. I suppose I’d feel differently if I were poor, but that’s how it usually goes. “While I could make a fortune by keeping the manufacturing process a secret and selling paper at an outrageous markup, any such profits are negligible compared to the benefits gained from the widespread distribution of cheap, affordable paper.”
“How so?”
This is going much better than expected. At least he seems interested and is taking part in the conversation. “Literacy is the foundation upon which all learning is built, and education intrinsically tied to economy. With cheap and affordable paper, the cost to learn reading, writing, and basic arithmetic drops to almost negligible levels, which will have far reaching effects throughout the Empire. Well-educated workers can perform tasks more efficiently, find new ways to improve profits, and become a new market for literary pursuits such as poetry or pleasure reading.” Unable to hide my excitement, I continue speaking, my voice faster and louder than before. “A higher literacy rate also lets us tap into a vast, untouched resource, the collective knowledge of the Empire’s working class. Generation after generation, knowledge is passed down from father to son, mother to daughter, but that’s where it ends. Who knows how much knowledge we've lost to time and tragedy? With improved literacy, it opens up the possibility for an exchange of ideas and theories, discourses on techniques and stratagem. While it might not seem like much to you or I, a farmer learning how to improve his yield of crops or a fisherman how to predict the weather could massively change their lives for the better. Losing tens of thousands of gold in profit to improve the lives of commoners across the Empire for generations to come, this one sees it as a small price to pay.”
There’s so much more too, but sadly, my enthusiasm doesn’t seem to be catching on. The crowd sits silently while the Legate flips through my book. “What of the rest of it? There are several other items inside the chest and much more detailed in the book.”
“Paper is but one part of the gift.” Gesturing for Sahb to step forward, I point at the buckle on his backpack. “This is a strap buckle which can be tightened and loosened with one hand.” Sahb helpfully demonstrates a few times while I scrounge through the bag and pull out a few miscellaneous items. “This is a caliper, you use it to quickly measure the distance between two points on a flat surface, which among other things allows for fast and accurate map making. This is scented soap made primarily from vegetable oil, not as harsh on the skin and leaves laundry smelling fresh. This is an ingot of cast iron, which is cheaper to produce than traditionally smelted iron, needing no refining or hammering, but at the cost of being more brittle and inflexible. I also have a crossbow on the wagon which is easy to build and can fire ten bolts per minute with minimal practice, perfect for hunting wild game or weak Defiled. The book contains step by step instructions to create all of these items and more, while the wagons hold examples of our work for the Legate to inspect. This one hopes the Empire can make use of them, improve on them, create new inventions and usher in a new age of prosperity for all.”
Leaving the items in Sahb’s hands, I eyeball the Crier until the Legate waves him to silence. Leaning forward, I keep my voice low and whisper, “As for personal profits, there’s extra pages at the back of Imperial Legate’s copy which will not be shared with anyone else. Look them over and I’m sure you’ll find it of interest, especially the sections detailing paper money and money lending, both extremely lucrative concepts.”
Boom. That got his attention. He doesn’t care about cradle-scythes that let you reap and lay out the grains for easy collection, a water-powered clock so villagers can tell time, or even a counter-weight catapult to launch death from afar. All he’s interested in is how these inventions will benefit the Imperial Clan, not the Empire as a whole. To that end, paper currency reads like a hegemony’s wet dream, allowing the Emperor to collect gold and silver in exchange for pieces of paper, with the eventual goal of switching over to paper currency with no inherent value besides that which the Emperor gives it.
While paper currency will put more power into the hands of the Imperial Clan, I’m hoping it’ll blind them to the possibilities of everything else in my book. Maybe it’s arrogance speaking, but I want to believe there’s a reason I’m here in this world with my scattered memories. My first guess was so I could draw a bunch of silly captioned pictures for shits and giggles, but then I actually put some thought into it and decided to try and leave the world a little better than I found it. Alone, I can’t do much, but I can get the ball rolling in the right direction. Education is a powerful weapon, one which can change the world for the better. It’s not just about learning characters and numbers, but about laying the groundwork for each successive generation to discover and create new and wondrous things. Reducing poverty, improving the standard of living, passing on values, and preventing needless deaths from treatable illnesses, they’re all worthy causes, but basic human rights can’t exist while there is such a gross imbalance of power.
My end game is this: once most people are no longer barely scraping by, they’ll be free to explore other options, like trying their hand at the Martial Path.
Take the Behkai and other people of the Saint’s Tribulation Mountains for example. They don’t have a higher incidence of Martial Warriors because they’re naturally talented or harder working, but because every child is given a chance to learn and those who show promise are nurtured. If more peasants around the Empire grow to become Martial Warriors and take power, eventually there will be more soldiers from humble backgrounds than noble ones. Bloodless revolution is a child’s dream, because without a credible threat from their own people, the Imperial Clan will never consider any matters aside from their own self-interest. Add in a sprinkling of crossbows, catapults, Spiritual Guns, and other new, deadly weapons into the mix, and bloody conflict to right the balance of power is all but inevitable.
Sometimes, things have to get a little worse before they can get a lot better, but thankfully, I’ll be dead and gone by the time any of this takes place. Maybe I’m wrong and things work out for the better, or you know, the Defiled kill everyone and nothing I do matters. Whatever happens, happens. In the meantime, I’ll do what I think is right.
Feigning indifference, the Legate hands the book to his seneschal and gestures for his guards to take everything away. “Is that all?” he asks, sounding ever so slightly disappointed. He’s putting on a show, trying to make it look like he’s upset because I’ve presented him nothing which will benefit him.
The Imperial Clan must have its tribute, after all.
Shrinking back in mock fear, I shake my head and frantically gesture for Dastan and Sahb, who both run back to the retinue and collect four leather-wrapped items carried by four separate guards. Yuzhen’s suggestion to better sell the lie and make it look like a last minute gift and make my book seem less... threatening. “Certainly not,” I say, hiding my grimace as the Crier echoes my words. “This one would never dream of presenting Imperial Legate with so poor a gift.” On cue, Dastan and Sahb reveal the ‘last second gift’, once again causing Nan Ping’s inhabitants to audibly gasp as one. Four round, metal shields shimmer in the morning light, their surfaces engraved in flowing, disorderly inscriptions, both disorienting and pleasing to the eye. “This one presents Imperial Legate with these four Runic shields, crafted by one who would prefer to remain anonymous.”
My Teacher Taduk, Medical Saint, Loving Daddy, all around great guy, and now, Runic Craftsman.
He makes everything look so easy, crafting twelve Runic shields before running out of inscription materials. Resupply is kind of an issue, and even Yuzhen’s new friends from Central are having trouble procuring what we need. Now that the Empire knows we have a Runic Craftsman, there should be plenty of powerful factions willing to supply the needed materials in exchange for shields of their own, but I’d much rather keep those in house. It hurts enough giving away four shields to the Legate, but Yuzhen said a princely ransom would buy me plenty of goodwill from the Legate. More importantly, such a large gift (presumably) obligates the Legate to protect me and mine, lest he lose face and earn a reputation as an ingrate. Make no mistake, I will need his protection. Many will wonder what goodies I’ve kept for myself and the Bekhai, but with the Legate’s (publicly obligated) support, most will think twice before acting against us in the open. Even if the Legate doesn’t want to help us, he’ll have to at least pretend to be on our side, which should be enough to dissuade all but the greediest and well-connected of factions. This is exactly why Akanai forbade me from sharing knowledge of Panacea, because it is far too tempting a prize, even for the Imperial Clan.
Heh. I’m starting to get the hang of this politics thing. Yuzhen only had to explain it three times before I got it.
In the end, even though Taduk said all twelve shields were mine to do with as I pleased, I set four aside for this gift, gave six to Akanai and Baatar to hand out, and only kept two for myself. After much deliberation, I gave them to Dastan and Sahb because not only are they strong and important enough to warrant them, their fighting styles already incorporates a shield.
Plus... they’re kinda Oath-sworn to defend me with their lives and with Runic shields, they’re much better equipped to do so. I may be new and improved, but I still have a healthy respect for danger.
My lavish and practical gift is a stunning success and the Legate takes a minute to extol my virtues and thank the Bekhai and their mysterious Runic Craftsmen, words met with hearty cheers and thunderous applause. Flooded with relief at a job well done, I fall in line with my retinue and smirk at the other young talents, basking in the satisfaction of beating my rivals with my wallet and ingenuity. Everyone thinks the Runic shields are my most valuable gifts, but little do they know the knowledge bomb I’ve dropped in their midst. The people of this world aren’t stupid, they just lack proper motivation. Once companies see the value in research and development, they’ll begin investing in education and the rest will fall into place.
Everything went perfectly as planned and now all I have to do is sit back and wait for someone to figure out indoor plumbing. No more pooping in pots and ditches, that’s the world I want to live in.
With this, the North has ‘won’ twice in a row now and my fellow northerners are in high spirits, clapping their hands, stomping their feet, and chanting my name on the shores of Nan Ping Bay. After long minutes, the Legate stands up and holds his hands up for silence. Addressing the now silent crowd, he Speaks. “These nine exceptional young warriors are the future of the Empire. Standing at the forefront of their peers, they have each risen to prominence in their respective provinces.” Grinning as he makes eye contact with us one at at time, he adds, “However, I, and many others, have but one question on our minds: which of you is strong enough to claim the title of undisputed number one talent in the Empire?”
Nan Ping erupts into ground-shaking applause once more, startling Blackjack into seeking shelter in Ping Ping’s shell. Already I can see the other eight young talents eyeing me with predatory gazes, hungry for the reputation which would come from defeating Falling Rain. Even Yan has the same idea, biting her cherry-pink lips as she wonders just how much stronger I’ve become. Chuckling beneath my breath, I study my would-be challengers one by one, strapping on Tranquility while the Crier lays out the ground rules. Too bad Mila isn’t here, I was hoping to see her beat everyone to a pulp and claim her rightful place as number one talent in the Empire.
No big deal. I’ll just have to take the title and hold it until she’s ready.
Now... who’s first?
Chapter Meme