“I can explain.”

Silence lingers in the wake of my panicked, patently untrue statement, save for the thunderous throbbing of my pounding heart threatening to burst out of my chest. Wholly unperturbed and seemingly amused, the Legate lounges in my old bed with one eyebrow slightly raised, a gesture I often use and only now realize is utterly infuriating. For long seconds, he waits for my supposed explanation, but I overdid it with the big brain time and taxed my mental faculties too hard, so I’m drawing a blank on acceptable reasons why I keep a copy of Zhen Shi’s notes in the false bottom of the chest sitting in my old room.

I somehow doubt the Legate would accept “I never expected you to find out” as a valid excuse.

...

Hang on.

Doesn’t he already know?

This is the problem with keeping so many secrets, it’s hard to keep track of who knows what, but I’m fairly certain I’m not wrong here. I revealed my knowledge of Zhen Shi’s notes before the whole shindig at the Central Citadel, during an interrogation session in which the Seneschal stabbed me to see if I’d recovered, all because Kuang Biao overheard me call Gen ‘Zhen Shi’ in Sinuji and snitched. Now I feel silly about panicking, but in my defence, I almost died three times during that meeting and only remember two near death experiences, so forgetting the Legate knows this particular secret is... understandable. “I uh... can explain the Martial Path now, I think.” Moving past the weak save, I pray the Legate let’s it slide as I slip off my chair to kneel and salute. “This one humbly greets Shen ZhenWu and apologizes for the lacking hospitality. I was... distracted.”

“Indeed you were,” the Legate says, languidly sitting up and sliding his feet off my bed. Dude didn’t even take off his shoes. How rude. “However, your distraction has earned you no favours today, as my Honoured Uncle is not accustomed to being ignored, especially after such a long journey from the homeland. Nor am I,” the Legate adds, his fingers brushing against the folded fan tucked into his belt. “Though I was more patient than he and decided to indulge my curiosity. At least this explains your extended absence, having been lost in the throes of Insight and Inspiration. Strange that your protectors did not seem to notice, but I pray the results were worth the wait.”

My tired brain takes a moment to process the Legate’s statement and a few more before realizing he wants to see my final notes, which makes two of us. Despite having written the damned thing, I can only kind of remember the contents as the knowledge slips away into the ether of forgotten nothingness. Coming to my feet on shaky legs, I find stacks of neatly organized papers sitting atop my desk, arranged in drafts from earliest to latest. They all start the same way, with ‘The Core is the powerhouse of the Martial Warrior’, but then deviate sharply from there. The first and earliest iteration has so many scribbled notes and crossed out sections it’s barely even legible, much less comprehensible, while the second to last batch is more refined, but still heavily edited. In front of my chair sits the last pile of documents, arranged so that when the page I was working on is finished, I can just put it on top of the pile and move on, but I never got that far, because I ran out of ink and couldn’t finish my final thoughts.

Damn it... I have so many guards watching over me in Concealment, and none of them noticed I was lost in Inspiration? Then again, most of my protectors are probably keeping Ping Ping hidden, so maybe coming to my old room for peace and quiet was a mistake...

Shuffling papers to buy myself a few precious seconds, I take a look at the final paragraph and see that it has to do with Shattering the Void, though it’s difficult to understand since I was already running out of ink. Parsing through the writing as I bring this last draft to the Legate, I see that it reads, “The final step before Divinity is to supposedly Shatter the Void, but aside from contextual information, I am unable to comment much on this most mysterious of milestones. From what I can gather, there has been no human or Ancestral Beast alive who has successfully surmounted this final step. They are false Divinities, pretenders to the title, for a true Divinity would hold complete command over the twin powers of Creation and Destruction and be able to remake reality as they please. Ancestral Beasts are creatures who once touched upon those powers as beasts, but not only are they unable to replicate their success, it appears they also have no recollection of the event, or even of anything before becoming an Ancestral Beast. Human Divinities can’t even claim that much, and are given the title solely because they are a match for Ancestral Beasts in open combat, but against a Martial Warrior who truly Shattered the Void, both parties would be akin to insects before a Dragon.”

Huh. I kinda come off as a prick in writing. I should strive to sound less judgmental and antagonistic in the future, and more... neutral. That’s all there is though, and I have no idea what I would’ve written next, save for a few scratches on the paper which I can’t really make out. I don’t even remember writing all this, or what point I was getting at, and I certainly don’t know how to properly Shatter the Void and become a god, but there’s no more stalling for time. Offering the Legate my notes with both hands, I try to linger and catch a glimpse of what I’d written in the earlier pages, but the Legate shuffles through them in the blink of an eye, no doubt committing the pages to memory with help from his Natal Palace. I miss being able to do that, because it saved me so much time and effort, and while it’s not the same as reading everything outright, it let me parse through the information at much higher speeds. Most people narrate the words in their head when reading, but that’s actually slowing you down. The human brain can process information at the literal speed of thought, but by narrating out the words in an internal monologue, that limits you to the much slower speed of speech.

Or something like that. I dunno. It seems right and it works, so I’m not gonna argue it.

“Oh?” Having reached the final paragraph, the Legate stops to process my words before giving me the raised eyebrow once more. “False Divinities. Pretenders to the title. Insects before a Dragon. How... ungenerous. Even if written in the throes of Inspiration, the tone leaves much to be desired.”

Hang on. Inspiration? Holy shit on a stick! I just had a bonafide Inspiration! Or... did I? I mean, I wrote everything, and I’m fairly certain it all came from my head, but like... if I was Inspired to write it, does that mean it’s all correct? No, or else I would’ve known all the answers without having to figure it out myself. How did Husolt describe it? Inspiration isn’t the Mother Above telling us what to do, but giving us the tools and information we need to figure it out for ourselves. When Mila went through it with the Spiritual Weapons, she wasn’t given a finished schematic to look at, she worked out how to put together a spring-powered Spiritual Rifle inside her head. Eventually she arrived at a finished, albeit imperfect product, or rather several versions of one, and that’s probably what I have here. My notes are only right insofar as my personal knowledge extends, but I could easily be working on a flawed premise or missing pertinent information needed to arrive at the most correct conclusion.

While I’m on the subject, what’s the big deal with Insight, Inspiration, and Awakenings? They still feel like different names for more or less the same thing, even if they are specific to certain aspects. Insight has to do with the Forms, Awakenings with the Blessings, and Inspiration covers... well I guess everything else? I dunno. Seems weird. It’d be easier just to call it all Insight and just be more specific, but that’s one of the things they do here, use certain words in extremely specific ways. Regardless of what you want to call it, one thing is for sure: I can’t take these written words as infallible, merely a product of my own admittedly spotty understanding of the Martial Path.

Still, feels pretty good to know my wi-fi is back up and running. First Aura, and now this, all in the span of a few hours. After months of stagnation, this feels like I’m sprinting towards a full-recovery, and damn me if it doesn’t feel good. The unexplained two week coma is still worrisome, but if I’d known all I had to do was turn myself off and on again, I’d have knocked myself out with a brick of tofu.

Then again, this is probably all thanks to Ping Ping, so I should go give the not-so-big girl a giant hug later...

Lost in the throes of distraction, I forget to respond to the Legate’s statement, but luckily, I don’t have to. “Once again, the boy speaks true, insofar as he understands it. We are all false Divinities, for we are unable to wield the true power of the Divine.” Though the voice is still somewhat unfamiliar, it comes as no surprise to find the Chief Beardy standing next to my bed, his Concealment dropping away as if it were never there. Oddly enough, his posture seems somewhat defensive today, and I have no idea why. Every other time I’ve seen him, he’s had his hands folded behind his back or stroking his silky beard while affecting a natural air of nonchalance, but this time his arms hang stiffly at his sides, with his shoulders tilted ever so slightly towards his right. It’s the same guarded posture you see in Warriors approaching an unfamiliar, but not outright hostile situation, wary and prepared to fight, but not in an open, threatening manner. I’m fairly certain this guy is one of those false human Divinities I so bluntly insulted in writing, so I would really love to know what’s making him nervous and get as far away as possible.

In fact, I don’t even need to know. I would just like to leave.

Unfortunately, there’s nothing I can do except offer a polite bow and salute which goes unnoticed as the Legate and Chief Beardy converse through Sending. Seems rude considering I’m standing right here, but I suppose this could be for my benefit, though I doubt it considering how... petulant the Legate seems. Maybe he’s tearing apart my notes and pointing out all the ‘obvious’ mistakes, but he doesn’t want me to overhear. It’s counter-intuitive, but keeping quiet would actually count as helping, because even if my Martial Path is obviously flawed, so long as I wholeheartedly believe in it and strive to pursue it, there’s no reason why it wouldn’t work for me, to a certain extent. That’s the thing about the Martial Path: we all must forge our own, so there is no singular, correct path, only the path which works best for the individual.

No, Dao works better here in place of Path. My Dao is my defining truth, but it only works from my unique perspective. Someone else trying to follow my Dao would be unable to keep up with my leaps of logic, because they haven’t experienced the world the same way I have, so even if they take all the same ‘steps’ I do, they will invariably end up at a different destination. That’s how it will always be, since the Dao is an expression of who we are, and each person is unique.

Yet another reason why we each must forge our own paths. Which... I suppose makes sense, but I can’t help but feel like we’re doing it all wrong. We put too much emphasis on mystical Insight and not enough on understanding the process behind the manipulation of Heavenly Energy. It’s right there in the name, energy, which means there are rules governing its behaviour, rules we should endeavour to understand and manipulate. It’s as if instead of crafting boats with rudders, oars, and sails, we all collectively agreed to only build rafts and go wherever the current brings us, just because all the ships we’ve built thus far have sunk. It’s not exactly wrong since the raft still works, but we’re leaving so many options off the table simply because we refuse to evolve and adapt. They’re willing to live in caves with campfires because they don’t understand how change can lead to indoor plumbing and electrical lighting.

That’s one thing Zhen Shi has over the Imperials: he’s open to change. Granted, he’s also a remorseless, psychotic, mass-murderer with delusions of godhood and grandeur, but at least he’s willing to try new things. Then again, since trying new things tends to turn people into remorseless, psychotic, mass-murderers, I can also see why people are so against it. Damned if you do, damned if you don’t. Seems like there’s no good answer, but I know one exists, I just... don’t know what it is or where to start looking. The Abbot would say it all starts with the Noble Eight-Fold Path and accepting the Right View, and while I don’t entirely disagree, we are at odds on what the Right View actually is. He believes it generally boils down to Karma, Impermanence, and the Four Noble Truths, whereas I believe it’s less about organized religion and the Cycle of Reincarnation, and more about going through life with a working moral compass and generally not being a giant bag of dicks. Which of course is subjective, but I’m still working things out for myself, so excuse me if I don’t have all the right answers.

If you discover this tale on Amazon, be aware that it has been unlawfully taken from Royal Road. Please report it.

Theological debates aside, I hope my notes will point me in the right direction to a faster recovery, but the Legate is still holding them and seemingly lost in conversation with Chief Beardy. I really hope he gives them back, because otherwise, I may go on a murderous rampage. Or you know... sulk and moan about it for a really long time, but either way, I want to go through my notes and see what I’ve written. Noticing my impatience, the Legate smirks and proceeds to do absolutely nothing about it. This is payback for making him wait, I know it is, but that’s not fair. I didn’t invite him over, nor did I ask to be Inspired, so he can’t really blame me for being distracted. He should take it up with the Mother Above, or the Heavens, or whatever. I dunno. Just... it’s not my fault.

The minutes crawl by with an agonizing lack of haste, and it feels like an eternity before someone speaks out loud once again, and to my surprise, it’s not the Legate. “You tread a Path unlike any I have seen before,” Chief Beardy begins, his tone so decidedly neutral it’s impossible to tell if he approves or disapproves. “Yet much of what you’ve written rings true. Reflect on it, improve on it, discuss it with your betters, but should you make any attempt to widely disseminate the information contained within, know that We of the Imperial Clan will put our full effort into stopping you.” Seeing my surprise, Chief Beardy shakes his head and scoffs. “You write as though narrating your thoughts to another, making it clear you intend to share this with an audience, but if your words were to spread far and wide, it would cause irreparable harm to generations of future Martial Warriors.”

Though my first instinct is to react with anger or outrage, and my second instinct is to offer a sarcastic retort, I hold my tongue and think things through before responding. “How can my words cause irreparable harm if what I’ve written rings true?”

“Because while the truth may be immutable, perception is ever changing. This is your truth, your path, and yours alone, so do not try to force others to follow in your footsteps.” Taking the notes from the Legate, Chief Beardy tosses the stack back to me, and somehow I catch them before they scatter. An intended slight, to show that my words mean nothing to him, but not in an antagonistic way. I get what he’s saying though, as well as what he isn’t saying, that my Dao is mine alone and of no practical use to anyone else. If I were to show this to others, it could cause them to question their own Path, and leave them unable to continue progressing in the same manner. It’s a little like Dumbo’s magic feather, which only works because he believes it works, except in this case, the feather is truly magic.

...I still believe magic is merely science we have yet to explain, but I suppose it would be premature to have my notes copied and disseminated all across the Empire before I have a working alternative to Balance.

Seeing that I understand, the Chief Beardy turns to the Legate and says, “I must go.”

If I blinked, I would’ve missed it, but for a brief, infinitesimal moment, the Legate’s features take on a cast of fear and uncertainty, but then he goes back to his normal, smarmy self. “Again?” he asks, which speaks volume to his surprise, since he could’ve easily switched to Sending.

Chief Beardy merely nods before disappearing from sight, so suddenly it takes me a moment to notice he’s not even there anymore, or notice the Seneschal slink in to take his place at the Legate’s side. Seeing my questioning expression, the Legate purses his lips and sighs. “I suppose you will find out soon enough. Our canny foe seeks to chip away at our resolve with empty threats of mutual destruction. The Treaty stands broken, but neither side is willing to let matters devolve into an all out battle of Divinities.” Smirking, he adds, “Pretenders they may be, but Divinities are still capable of wreaking widespread destruction, enough to bring this Empire crumbling down around our ears in a mere matter of days.”

My anxiety spikes even though I suspect the Legate is revealing this so I’ll go tell Mom and Dad, who might then convince a few Divinities to lend a hand. I have no idea how many Divinities count themselves as one of the People or Sentinels, but considering the sheer variety of half-beasts in my home village alone, that number could easily be in the double digits. Granted, the presence of a certain half-beast is no guarantee that their Ancestral Beast progenitor lives in the Saint’s Tribulation Mountains, like Mila and Guan Suo, but it’s worth considering.

...

Hang on. What if some of those half-beasts are actual Divinities themselves? Guan Suo spent thirty-three years with his parents and who knows how many years before that, but the entire time, he thought he was merely a half-beast. What if there are others like him amongst the People?

...That would be nice, wouldn’t it? Secret, super-powered Divinities lurking in our midst...

Having left me to stew in trepidation long enough, the Legate waves away my unspoken concerns as if he weren’t the one who brought them up. “Threats and posturing mostly. Even the Defiled are not so in love with death and destruction as to want the world laid to waste, and our canny foe has other intentions. We know their Divinities will not attack, but we cannot let an intrusion go unanswered, especially not after losing two, prominent Divinities of our own, and with two more so grievously injured. The Smiling Slaughterer was an elder to most in those circles, and he will not be soon forgotten. As for the Destroyer, his strength was well known and well respected, for unlike the others of the Brotherhood, he delighted in challenging his peers to Martial contests, from which he emerged with the upper hand more often than not.” Sighing, the Legate shakes his head and looks away with an almost assuredly fake melancholy. “In contrast, the Abbot is... well, he leaves much to be desired in an ally during these tumultuous times.”

Again, the Legate is telling me all this for a reason, though I have no idea why. Truth be told, it might not matter if I understand or not, since he probably just expects me to pass the message along. Proving my hunch correct, the Legate doesn’t wait for a reply as he moves over to a comfortable chair the Seneschal liberated from the living room and says, “Tell me what transpired on the evening of Guan Suo’s death.”

And here we come to the crux of it all, the reason for his patience and presence. I have Kuang Biao to thank for this probably, because he likely told the Legate the moment he knew I was awake. From the skies outside, I can tell it’s not quite dinner time yet, which means I’ve only been at this for five hours or so, which means there’s a good chance no one even knows the Legate is here, since Mom or Luo-Luo would’ve sent a pot of tea up or something. No wait, they wouldn’t have even let him in if they knew I was in the midst of Inspiration, because they know how fragile it can be. Mila was engrossed in it for weeks developing the Spiritual Guns, but it would’ve ended much sooner if we weren’t around to keep her from eating her brushes and replace all the inkwells she threw at offending visitors.

Man... how much further would I have gotten if the Legate had bothered to refill my inkwell? Shit, for all I know, he might’ve gotten bored of waiting and emptied it himself, or rather had the Seneschal empty it for him. Sounds like something he’d do...

Inwardly stewing in pique, I answer the Legate as honestly as I can, since I only have a general idea what Mom and the others told him. I felt something hinky going on, woke Mila up, and then... nothing. Not all that far from the truth, except I leave out Ping Ping’s ultimate fate and simply shrug when asked. “Mom says she disappeared,” I tell the Legate, careful not to outright lie, because I’m a terrible liar. “I want to go find her,” I continue, because I am in dire need of cuddles, “But I don’t think I can.” Since I’m busy talking to you right now. Boom. All technically true.

Like Chief Beardy said, the truth is immutable, but perception ever changing, so it’s not my fault if the Legate wrongly perceives the truth in my words.

“I have people searching for the Divine Turtle, and I’m sure you do as well.” Waving a hand in dismissal, he says, “Tell me more of this disturbance you felt, the one which caused you to raise the alarm.”

...Shit. Did he notice something? It was all over in the blink of an eye, and Mom says no one noticed anything amiss, but Zhen Shi must’ve been clued in somehow, because he was right there waiting with a detailed illusion to trick me. It wouldn’t be outside the realms of possibility to think the Imperials noticed something amiss too, so I have no choice but to quietly admit the truth. “Well... I’m not sure but... I think Ping Ping was turning into a Demon.”

It feels terrible selling the not-so-big girl down the river like this, but I’m hoping a super powerful Demon would explain away all the shenanigans which took place that night, and for once, I get lucky. The Legate’s expression is almost unreadable, but his fingers twitch ever so slightly as he resists the urge to clench his fist. He’s not happy with the news, but his anger is not directed at me, which is the best I can really hope for. “We suspected as much,” he says, with a visible grimace, which coming from him is almost too dramatic to believe. I’m getting better at reading him, though it’s more difficult than most, because you can almost never believe what you glean from his tone, expression, or mannerisms and have to rely entirely on gut feeling. I’d be the first person to call bullshit if someone tried to pass this off as reliable, but I trust my instincts on this. The Legate is playing me here, but I have no idea what his goal is. “I’m afraid it may be even worse than you believe, for it’s possible the Divine Turtle ascended to Divinity in truth.”

“...And that’s a bad thing?”

This time, his surprise is genuine, for reasons which soon become obvious. “Yes, considering your suspicions. We now have another Enemy Divinity to account for, one to replace their singular loss, while two of our own lie dead and gone. Though we find ourselves in stalemate since neither side wishes to rule over ruins, there will come a time our cagey foe finds himself unable to recover, and I fear he will not be gracious in defeat.”

“Good point.” Shit, I just told him, and I already forgot we were talking about Defiled Ping Ping. Playing along with the Legate’s game, I ask, “So what can we do?”

“Pray his allies are not so fanatical as he.” Even now, the Legate refuses to use Zhen Shi’s name, despite being wholly at ease reading his notes to pass the time. There’s a strange disparity there which reinforces my belief that saying Zhen Shi’s name aloud could garner his attention, and the Legate seems to know it, which begs the question: how? I don’t mean how does Zhen Shi do it, but rather how does the Legate know it’s possible? Because it’s another Imperial secret? Something which would also cause ‘irreparable harm’ if it became known to the public?

There are times when I wish I was less paranoid, but now, I’m not sure if I’m paranoid enough. The conspiracies are real man, they just don’t ever end.

The silence lingers for long seconds as we both contemplate the future, and I give serious consideration towards running for the mountains. It would never work, not just because the victor would most certainly come after me once the dust had settled, but also because I’d never convince Dad to go through with it. I doubt Alsantset would cut and run either, nor would Mila without an express order from Akanai, because like it or not, they are staunch patriots to the core. Not to mention Yan would most certainly stick with Grandpa Du, who would sooner die than abandon his duty, and all the other poor, defenceless people I’d be consigning to death. While I am technically not responsible for their lives, I would never be able to live with myself if I just left them to their own fate, especially after convincing so many families to start a new life on the Western Border.

And most importantly of all, I want to stand and fight, not to be a hero of legend, but because it is the right thing to do. That’s really all that matters. This is a war which must be fought, and I will not run.

Well... not yet. There are times when discretion is the better part of valour, but that time has yet to come.

The Legate resumes our conversation and informs me of what to say about Ping Ping, that she was struck with wanderlust and went ambling about in the wilds. Not exactly a great cover story, but the Legate is less concerned about Ping Ping and more concerned about making sure no one knows she turned into a Defiled Divinity. Which she didn’t, because there is no way that sweet cuddle bug is Defiled in any way, shape or form. Jury is still out on the red panda, since it’s possible the little cantankerous grouch is hiding a buttload of Spectres, but considering he slept in my bed for two weeks and even gave me a good swat, any Spectres he did have would’ve been long since Devoured. Probably. Maybe? I should find me a Demon and do some testing, right after I read through my notes a few times. I’m pretty sure I mentioned something about animals, and Spiritual Hearts too, but I cannot for the life of me remember what it was, so I’m eager to go over it once more.

Once we have all our ducks in a row, the Legate moves to stand and go, but stops and settles back down into his chair while regarding me with a curious expression, one too genuine to be faked. “I will do something which goes against all my instincts,” he says, looking incredibly human and uncomfortable as he does. “I know you are keeping secrets, secrets which may or may not be our undoing, so I will be honest and forthright, in hopes you will reciprocate.” Clearing his throat, the Legate begins, “I came here tonight to decide if I should kill you.”

“...If it’s trust you’re looking for, that was a bad place to start.”

“True enough,” he says, smiling at my wry retort while the Seneschal glowers away. “However, once again, you’ve failed to see matters from my perspective. You now know I suspected a Demon was born on the evening of Guan Suo’s death. What does that tell you?”

“...That it’s mighty suspicious how I was unavailable immediately after.”

“Indeed. Keeping the Death Corps at arms length is not unheard of, but the timing left much to be desired.” Sinking into his seat with a sigh, the Legate shows a hint of fatigue, which is more than I’ve ever seen before. “Our foe is a brilliant man, and our knowledge of him is outdated by eight-hundred years, so I can only imagine what heights he has risen to. You yourself said he can control others, albeit in an imperfect manner, so who better to take over than you? A quirky, eccentric, but powerful young noble who is... less than a full Martial Warrior, but rapidly recovering, someone who has demonstrated intelligence far beyond his years and has a future so promising, it almost defies belief.”

“Ah.” Holy shit. He thought I might’ve been possessed by Zhen Shi? And long before what happened to Ping Ping, from the sounds of it. “...Actually, not all that an unreasonable assumption.” Furrowing my brow, I tilt my head and ask, “What made you decide not to kill me?”

Chuckling, the Legate gestures at the papers in my hands and says, “I read your notes. Yours is a unique path, admittedly with similarities to our foe’s, but your conclusions are wildly different from anything he might consider.” His piece said, the Legate stands from his chair and claps me on the shoulders. “I too look forward to your future progress, and hope I never come to regret our partnership.”

With that, he turns on his heels and heads for the door.

Only to stiffen and cry out as a Concealed assailant plunges his dark dagger into his chest, the insidious weapon piercing through the front of his golden silk robes and bursting out the back.

A Wraith, cloaked from head to toe in flowing black robes and wielding dual obsidian weapons, but even the element of surprise is not enough to kill Shen ZhenWu, the True Divine Warrior of his generation. A single blow sends the would-be assassin crashing out of the room in a spray of splinters, but more Wraiths emerge from Concealment to take his place and chaos breaks loose in my old bedroom.

Of course. I should’ve expected something like this to happen. Today was going far too well for it not to end in disaster...

Chapter Meme