For most of his life, Goujian played the part of hunter and inquisitor, a misguided and deluded fool who ferreted out those who stumbled across the Truth

Much as he regretted all those wasted years in service to a lie, he still took pride in his skills and counted himself as second to none when it came to exposing the Chosen of Heaven for who they were. He learned that hiding in plain sight was far more effective than sticking to the shadows, for one needed an identity that could move freely about if one wished to investigate. Whether it be a beggar, a household servant, a patrolling soldier, or whatnot, a false identity afforded Goujian and his Aspirants the freedom to track their quarry without arousing suspicion. The only issue was that if your cover were ever compromised without your knowledge, then this left you vulnerable as it put the initiative in your quarry’s hands. For this reason, it was always best to have an escape plan in place before infiltrating your enemies, and Goujian’s latest escape plan just so happened to start at the bottom of a stinking midden heap, where he lay still and silent as could be while doing his best to ignore the filth pooling around and on top of him.

Such was life, trials and tribulations without end, but after a few hours, he grew accustomed to the smell and even found this situation rather amusing. The thrill of the hunt was nothing compared to the dread of the hunted, and he relished the novelty in this reversal of roles. He’d come so far along the Martial Path, yet here he was hiding like a rat in a den of dragons, an exhilarating experience he might one day look fondly back upon after reaching the pinnacle of strength. It was so amusing, he almost let out a chortle, but there was a kitchen scullion emptying a barrel of kitchen waste nearby, so Goujian settled for a restrained smile instead.

There were drawbacks to embracing the Truth, and uncontrolled expression of emotion stood chief among them, but such was the price the Heavens demanded. True Balance was a tricky thing to get right, since one could hardly surrender to emotion and retain control at the same time. Too much or not enough, one was as disastrous as the other, which meant a few mishaps were bound to happen when progressing along the Razor’s Edge. It was not a Path of Balance nor Imbalance, neither Imperial nor Defiled, but both in one, True Balance as the Heaven’s intended. Embrace love and joy, give in to anger and hatred, wallow in grief and regret, indulge in relief and pleasure, for only then could one understand what it truly means to be human. This was Goujian’s Path, the True Human Path, for once he understood what it meant to be human, he could then divest himself of all mortal trappings and emerge as a being of pure Divinity.

And since this lofty goal finally appeared within reach, why did it matter if he had to lay in filth for a day or two to escape the powerful foes hunting him? Even a fearsome tiger can be brought low by a pack of wolves, and though Goujian was strong, he learned firsthand in Sinuji that there were always People beyond People, and Heavens beyond the Heavens.

Goujian only found True Balance a single time, just over six months ago in Sinuji. On that fateful day, he suffered grievous injury in the fires of war and there, on the brink of death, he surrendered to Balance and reforged his body using the Energy of the Heavens to become stronger than ever before. Impressive as his feat was, it was at best a partial success, for in his folly, he held too tightly to the reins of control and failed to wholly surrender to fate. Because of this, he denied himself the critical Insight and information he needed to properly design a new and improved body, leaving himself riddled with a myriad of unforeseen defects like poor heat dispersion, weak ligaments, overly dense muscles, lacking senses, and more. Alas, he had yet to find that elusive moment of perfect Balance once again and replicate even his partial success so as to correct some of his mistakes, but he was close, so close he could feel it.

Even defective and limited as it was, Goujian’s new form was formidable indeed, to the point where he only needed a few months of gruelling, agonizing training to reach the level of a half-step Divinity, or so the young Emperor claimed. In truth, Goujian believed even this much was being overly generous, because as impressive as his physical strength and durability might be, leathery skin and steely bones was no defence against Honed Spiritual Weapons. In high level exchanges, speed was king, and Goujian’s speed and reaction times were far from overwhelming, only marginally better than they were before his rebirth and in some ways, worse. Though able to move in straight lines at ridiculous speeds, he had to be careful when checking his momentum lest he tear his own muscles apart when moving at speeds too high for his flawed body to handle or stopping too suddenly. If not for this oversight on his part, he would have easily defeated Nian Zu in Sinuji, a man yet to unravel the true mysteries of the Heavens aside from the secrets which remained hidden inside his singular, signature move, the Shooting Star.

And even lacking in comprehension as he was, Nian Zu had been more than strong enough to teach Goujian how high the Heavens truly were in a mere ten exchanges. Even one had been enough, since the previous nine had been drawn out to buy time for the beleaguered Imperial soldiers, a warrior and general without compare. In contrast, Goujian was neither of these and counted himself a spy and assassin, which was simply the way of the world. Despite making prodigious improvements over the last six months, he was certain that if he were discovered hiding at the bottom of this midden heap, it would most certainly end in his death.

For Nian Zu was merely one among many Peak Experts residing in the Northern Citadel, which housed the midden heap Goujian was currently hiding in.

As for how he got here, well, he only had the Uniter to blame. The conniving schemer hadn’t even bothered giving Goujian this task himself, and instead sent the young Emperor to pass along his plans, which were utterly lacking in detail. Though happy to wage war on the front lines and give the newly turned Chosen of Heaven time to learn and grow, the Uniter wanted his Wraiths in position to act against Imperial leadership should the opportunity present itself, but thus far, he had no success getting his Concealed killers past the Imperial defences. Thus, the task fell to Goujian, who happily accepted this fool’s errand to get away from his arduous, agonizing training before it could finally break him.

The Uniter was a bastard through and through, but a brilliant one, for a few errant words of advice did much to help Goujian along his Path and shore up the weaknesses of his physique, but it came at no small price. For months, he endured constant pain and suffering by day as various Demons pummelled him to near death, only to relive the same injuries while they healed naturally to become stronger than before thanks to the medicinal baths he soaked in overnight. Rinse and repeat, that was his life for far too long, but the results spoke for themselves as little by little, Goujian’s flaws diminished in severity allowing him to harness more and more of his strengths, tempered by the repeated beatings and healings. It seemed so obvious in retrospect, given the Penitent Brotherhood’s penchant for self-inflicted torment, but were it not for sheer desperation, Goujian would not subject himself to such torture ever again. The pain turned seconds into minutes and minutes into hours, to the point where the last few months felt like decades to him, with each passing day filled with abject misery save for those few, precious moments of rest the Uniter afforded him to meditate on the Dao and possibly find True Balance once again.

Most of the time, Goujian merely wept, and when it came time for his training to begin anew, he wept some more. Why was a strong body even necessary if the end goal was to leave it behind and ascend to Divinity?

Regardless of his thoughts on the treatment, Goujian could not deny that it was effective, so he put his full effort into this venture in hopes of learning more from his wise ‘Mentor’. It became immediately apparent that the first group of infiltrators would have no chance of success, for they were all natural-born Defiled Wraiths from beyond Imperial borders, meaning they were unable to speak Common and utterly incapable of blending in. To remedy this, Goujian and the young Emperor picked out over three hundred candidates from among the newly Chosen and sent them to the Uniter to undergo the speedy, secretive training required to become a Wraith. Not ten days later, a little more than a third returned to Shi Bei looking pale, wan, and sickly, but while their strength had not improved by much, and in some cases even regressed, every last one of them knew how to innately Conceal with only a modicum of focus.

A shame Goujian was denied the opportunity to witness the process firsthand, but the young Emperor was refused access as well, so there was no helping it. The Uniter was a man of many secrets, and he guarded them fiercely as a mother bear guarded her cubs, and even the young Emperor was not privy to most of them, or so he claimed.

With the right people, the next part came to devising the right plan, and Goujian immediately cast aside the Uniter’s suggestions that he find a ship and sail east under Concealment or blaze a trail across the dangerous and impassable Arid Wastes. Instead, he led his hundred Chosen Wraiths out to the front lines, where they worked with a tribal Chieftain to isolate a no-name Imperial Captain and slaughtered them to the last man, whereupon their armour, weapons, and uniforms were confiscated by Goujian’s people. From there, it was simply a matter of marching east in full view of Imperial scouts and keeping a careful distance from other battered, retreating units, until they were close enough to sprint for the Azure Sea and swim past the heavy Imperial barricades at Sui Hua before disappearing into the Central grasslands, all in a single, exhausting night.

Difficult to mask the disappearance of an entire hundred man retinue, but by the time the Imperials tracked him down, Goujian intended to be hidden within plain sight once again.

With the first hurdle overcome, Goujian led his Chosen further east to a remote township of Central, where he made contact with a well-to-do merchant inside the Uniter’s network who was happy to vouch for their new identities. The majority of the Chosen Wraiths became sailors working on the merchant’s ships, while others found work as labourers, farmhands, and aspiring landowners under Falling Rain’s initiative to bring workers to the Western Border. Those poor, misguided souls were being herded to the border to become fodder for the Defiled, but they believed that runt’s silver-tongued lies and flocked to his districts in droves. An ambitious plan, sinking so much coin into a mere distraction, but as the Minister of Finance, Falling Rain had the coin to spare, and the lives of commoners were worth less than the dirt they tread upon in the eyes of the Imperial Clan.

All this was easy enough to accomplish, and soon, the majority of Goujian’s Chosen Wraiths were on their way to the Northern Citadel, save for the lone, six Defiled Wraiths the Uniter insisted Goujian keep. These half-dozen killers were an inhuman lot, their pasty grey skin and dark, shifty eyes painting them as insidious vipers not to be trusted, but he had strict orders to see them safely into the Citadel. A difficult prospect bringing obvious Defiled into one of the most heavily guarded fortifications in the Empire, a task made all the more daunting by Goujian’s newfangled physique. In Sinuji, he impersonated a common farrier before MuYang and the others betrayed him, and it had been simple enough. By day, he worked, and by night, he disappeared into his tent with large jars of alcohol, which was enough to explain his absence. Blending in at the Citadel would have been even easier, if not for the fact that his new appearance did not lend itself to subterfuge. Where he once possessed a lean, lanky frame which looked positively decrepit whenever he donned loose robes and hunched his back, he was now too tall, too large, too handsome, and too memorable to blend in, which meant he could never pass as a commoner.

So once again, Goujian relied on old tricks and dressed the Defiled Wraiths up as Western Warriors garbed in the draped head-wraps and face coverings associated with those barren desert lands. To get around their inability to speak proper Common, he cut out all their tongues to force them to converse only through Sending. Thankfully, these six understood enough civilized language to follow basic orders, and he concocted a fanciful story of how the six comrades had taken their own tongues away and taken an Oath of silence in a show of contrition for failing to defend their fallen province. This was a good enough story to get him and his companions into the Citadel, but it took some time to secure real clients, and then travel from the ass-end of Central to the Western border while fighting off every bandit with half a mind to earn a quick coin.

The Empire was at war, and competent Martial Warriors in high demand.

The Imperial Army paid fairly decent wages compared to what a man like Guying, Goujian’s alias, would make, especially at the rock-bottom prices Goujian had set in an effort to entice enough merchants to avoid suspicion and get moving as quickly as possible. To counter this, Goujian had planned on feigning not just utter incompetence, but also the wildly stubborn demeanour of a narcissist who could admit no wrong. Warriors like this tended to have issues with authority and were quickly drummed out of basic training, and Guying was the epitome of dumb and proud, so he fit the type perfectly. All of this and more had been worked into his backstory, but what he failed to account for were his chatty clientele. After selling their wares at a considerable markup, Goujian’s clients took to the barrooms and whorehouses to spend their profits and brag about their brilliant exploits, which inevitably led to talk of their ‘harrowing’ journey to the Citadel. In the way of gossip shared over a drink or three, Goujian’s inebriated clients exaggerated the dangers they met on the road, as a handful of sneak thieves turned into a throng of insidious assassins and a band of seventeen bandits grew into a veritable army of seasoned marauders.

Though Goujian went to great lengths to hide his true strength by fighting poorly with a crudely forged and exceptionally heavy mace, it was difficult to swat a bug and not kill it in a single strike, and the young Emperor’s Wraiths had not even bothered trying to pretend. Even though most of the talk could be waved off as drunken boasting, there was too much truth in their blustering for an experienced Warrior to overlook, and soon, recruiters were arriving at his shared quarters in droves to offer gainful employment. It wasn’t just the Imperial Army, who were easily waved off with his falsified service history, or other ‘competing’ escort companies, which Goujian dismissed by saying he would rather work for himself, but he even received offers from noble houses and well-to-do merchants who wanted him and his six companions to join their useless relative’s retinue.

After Falling Rain publicly shamed Ishin Ken-Shibu for resting on his laurels instead of fighting on the front lines, serving time in battle had become a necessity for all Warriors of rank, lest they and their families lose face. Now, the Empire had an overabundance of Third Grade Warrant Officers who had purchased their rank and were now in dire need of Warriors to accompany them in battle to avoid being shamed for holding ‘hollow’ tokens, a new term coined for those who shirked their military duties and was synonymous with coward and wastrel. There were always people with more money than sense, so Goujian found it almost impossible to turn down gainful employment, especially at some of the ludicrously lucrative prices offered, but he did so anyways, and that had been a grievous mistake.

His suspicious actions earned him the attentions of a canny, cagey hunter, one on the lookout for suspicious Warriors. Goujian had seen signs of his foe during the past month, in the wandering eyes that sometimes turned his way and the strangers who asked questions which seemed innocent, but were designed to catch him in a lie. His extended stay in the Citadel only made the unseen hunter more wary of Goujian’s presence, but it couldn’t be helped; the young Emperor failed to mention that the Chosen Wraiths Goujian had smuggled into the Citadel would take action less than a week after his arrival. Had he known in advance, he would have set up bolt holes and safe houses for them to hide in and avoid detection, but he was barely settled into his new role when they first struck. Were these his Aspirants of old, they would have made sure that their absences weren’t noted so they had a role to return to, but these Wraiths only knew how to Conceal themselves, and were amateurs at hiding their presence through mundane efforts. Instead of being clever about it, they wholly abandoned their original identities to stalk their prey, thus becoming entirely reliant on Goujian to find them food, water, and a place to rest while hiding from Imperial kill-squads of Peak Experts and roving Divinities who were bored enough to go searching for Wraiths.

The worst part was, the Chosen Wraiths weren’t even particularly effective in their assassination attempts, only killing a smattering of notable Warriors and no Peak Experts among them. The Citadel was a target rich environment, and even the most cunning beasts would eventually let down their guard, but instead of biding their time and picking their moments with care, the Wraiths set out night after night in a futile attempt to sow chaos and death in the Citadel. Most of their attempts seemed aimed at Falling Rain’s manor, despite losing over half of the Wraiths Goujian had painstakingly snuck into the Citadel during their first night of attacks. Coincidentally, the Uniter contacted Goujian on that same night demanding he personally go see what was happening in the vicinity of Falling Rain’s manor, and what he saw was... well, nothing.

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By the time Goujian arrived at the lakeside park, the fighting was over and done with. More than sixty Wraiths had died in as many seconds, if that, and the Death Corps were out in full force securing a perimeter around not just the runt’s manor, but also the rest of the park it bordered on. A little excessive considering they had little difficulty dispatching the Uniter’s Wraiths and the runt was already secured, with a grand working of Concealment surrounding his entire manor to keep Goujian from peering in. There were too many powerful Peak Experts guarding Falling Rain, and the Uniter was paying the price for underestimating his foe, but even then, Goujian’s mysterious ‘Mentor’ refused to give up. For two weeks, his Wraiths tested Falling Rain’s defence every night like clockwork, and only Goujian’s insistence that they make the attempt in isolated groups of three and never make contact with friendly forces again kept them all from being wiped out by their canny foe. Whoever it was knew his methods well, and Goujian suspected it was one of his former Aspirant’s leading the hunt, perhaps even the traitorous MuYang who had yet to reveal himself. Gunan and Kanri were there, hiding in plain sight as the Imperial Servant’s clerks, and he caught sight of Jadhar by sheer happenstance when he spotted the once fervent believer leaving Falling Rain’s manor in the dead of night. Traitors to the cause one and all, men who Goujian saved and trained now working against him, much like his own sons.

Despite their betrayal, Goujian found it difficult to blame them. As he learned from his sons’ betrayals, it was far easier to swallow pleasant lies than embrace an unpleasant truth, but this only made his conviction all the stronger. The Imperial Clan must be dealt with and their lies revealed for what they were, else how many more good men and helpless innocents would be left to suffer, when True Enlightenment was but a step away?

For two weeks after that initial attack, Goujian worked tirelessly day and night to ensure the rest of his comrades remained hidden and safe. It was infuriating how the Uniter seemed to have a vast network of allies in every corner of the Empire except at the Western Wall, which was where they would have been of most use, so Goujian was left to fend for himself. He lost many of his people to Imperial raids, but he kept most out of harm’s way despite their nightly outings, hiding them in empty warehouses, unloaded ships, underground cellars, and unused dining halls. Aside from their targets, he forbade the Wraiths from killing anyone unless they were discovered, because a trail of corpses would lead the hunters straight to those Wraiths. It was all he could do to keep ahead of his foe, while also juggling his Guying persona, which was far more difficult than he would like. True to ‘his’ loutish personality, Goujian visited with prospective employers and took advantage of their hospitality, saying much and promising little while fishing for the highest price for his services, as well as the services of his six comrades who had yet to make a move. That was fortuitous at least, because it allowed Goujian to move freely and inspect prospective hiding places without having to reveal his true allegiance, and by getting into random heated arguments with prospective employers, it also gave him good reason for remaining unemployed.

Then, yesterday afternoon, Goujian’s ‘comrades’ made a move and almost killed the Legate himself, without bothering to remove their distinct Western robes beforehand.

It was an asinine move which revealed them all for little to no gain, but Goujian was more upset over the missed chance to watch a truly high-level battle. Oh what he wouldn’t give to have been a fly on that wall, to witness the strength of an Imperial Scion firsthand. He didn’t even care that his comrades’ stupidity forced him into hiding, because he couldn’t have kept his Guying ruse up for much longer. That was the problem with being a Martial Warrior, because even with so many of them gathered here in the Northern Citadel, theirs was a small world with too many overlapping connections. Sooner or later, someone would find it odd that no one knew of Guying and the pieces would then fall into place. Better to disappear on his own terms before the noose was already around his neck, so Goujian absconded to his personal hiding spot, one he picked out the day he arrived.

Which was how he ended up hiding in the midden heap of the busiest market district of the Northern Citadel, not two minutes away from the Command Centre. When night fell, the sanitation workers would arrive to fill their wagons, after which they would cart Goujian safely out to the waste pits beyond the Citadel gates.

As for the Defiled Wraiths, or at least the five who survived, Goujian was uncertain and uncaring of their final fate. Perhaps they’d been captured and killed, or perhaps they led their pursuers back to their Chosen, but that was precisely why Goujian didn’t bother informing them of his nearly foolproof plan. If the gate guards were diligent enough to dig through a stinking midden heap in search of assassins, then Goujian would simply have to give credit where credit was due and accept defeat.

After the better part of a day however, Goujian discovered that the entire Citadel was abuzz with news of Lieutenant General Baatar’s arrest. Not two minutes later, word came of Falling Rain riding at the head of his Khishigs, all armed and ready for battle. Now this was a development, one Goujian was perfectly poised to exploit if the chance should present itself, and one which boded poorly for the Empire’s future. Giving thanks to the Legate’s incompetent successor and Falling Rain’s hotheaded response, Goujian laid in the midden heap while Scrying and Listening for any and all developments.

And it all worked out so perfectly to his benefit, Goujian just had to wonder if the Uniter had planned on this all along. Remove Falling Rain’s patron and puppeteer, and watch the arrogant, impulsive, and ultimately dangerous young man bring everything down around his ears, it was a brilliant plan by any measure, and worked more effectively than Goujian could ever have imagined.

When Falling Rain laid Yang Jixing’s actions bare with no regard for Imperial face, Goujian almost snarled in rage at the sheer nepotism on display, for this was truly a perversion of justice. It was almost as if they were kindred spirits, fighting for a better world in which the people were ruled by honourable and righteous Warriors rather than the self-serving oppressors of the Imperial Clan. Falling Rain’s tone made Goujian weep, for he bore witness to the death of innocence and optimism in a young hero who truly wanted the best for the world, and was learning that the world worked against him. This injustice could not stand, and Goujian almost revealed himself to attack Jixing and free the wrongly imprisoned Baatar.

But then, Goujian caught himself and froze in terror at the power Falling Rain just revealed.

This was the young Emperor’s Talent, Oration, at work, and the runt had come a long way since his time in Sinuji. The Devourer was progressing far too quickly, and had to be removed from the board, but to strike here and now in the heart of his power... Even with a thousand Wraiths attacking in secret, Goujian would not be confident of success.

“Release my father now,” Falling Rain demanded, and if Baatar were in Goujian’s hands, he feared he would be compelled to do as asked, for Falling Rain’s tone left no room for defiance. “I make no demands or threats, I only suggest you do what is right, or what comes next lies on your head, and yours alone.”

An ultimatum if there ever were one, and the tension was palpable even to Goujian hiding in his midden heap. One second passed, then two, then three as Jixing considered his options from on high, his indecision clear to anyone who was watching. Then, his expression stilled and took on a haughty cast as he drew himself up to full height. “The Emperor’s Justice,” he said, enunciating each word with deliberate lack of haste, “Will be decided by the Emperor’s Servants, not some tribal savage with delusions of grandeur and no respect for Imperial Face. Save your threats and learn your place, lest you be charged with rebellion alongside your treasonous dog of a ‘father’.”

This was it. Goujian held his breath in anticipation, waiting for the hotheaded young Rain to order his people to attack and the Empire to come crumbling apart, but long seconds passed and still the runt did not reply. Changing his angle of Scrying, Goujian saw that Rain’s eyes were closed in deliberation, no doubt parsing through countless Sendings imploring him to stand down, urging him to rebel, and everything in between, but it was clear the stubborn boy’s mind was made up. Opening his eyes once again, he sighed, dropped his spear and shield to the ground, and stepped forward, away from his mother whose spear shot out to bar the path of his single, Death Corps escort. Alone, unguarded, and armed only with a sheathed sword, Falling Rain moved with slow, deliberate steps towards the stage, climbing up on his hands and knees in ungainly fashion before slowly approaching the Death Corps barring his path. Without prompting, the Death Corps readied their weapons as one, lowering the points of their polearms in Falling Rain’s direction and stomping once in unified warning, but to his credit, the runt didn’t slow or even flinch, his hands clasped behind him as if out for a leisurely stroll. Slowing as he arrived before the wall of blades, he stopped just short of a Death Corps halberd and eased forward until the pointed tip lay flush against his simple cotton shirt. “Move aside.” The Death Corps guard remained rooted in place, which was to be expected, but still Rain sighed and shook his head. “I believe my father is being unlawfully held in the building behind you. I intend to go inside and bring him out, without violence or bloodshed. Should you continue to bar my path, then I will die on your blade, and you will have killed me, Falling Rain, Minister of Finance of the Imperial Clan.”

With that seemingly obvious and apparent statement, Falling Rain slowly stepped forward to impale himself on the tip of the Death Corps’ blade, and illogically, the guard pulled back, his feet rooted and weapon still pointed at the runt, but face twisted in panic and confusion.

Despite watching everything through Scrying, Goujian couldn’t fathom why the Death Corps Guard would step back, until he realized the truth of the situation. This was all an elaborate bluff on Yang Jixing’s part, because he did not have the authority to order Falling Rain’s death if no crime was committed, and could only order the Death Corps to bar anyone’s path into the building. Now, the savage runt was leaving his protectors behind and calling Jixing’s bluff, telling the Death Corps that the only way to stop him from going inside was to kill him, which their Oaths would not allow.

The unfortunate guard could neither move nor stand in place, and so, the Heavens exacted its toll from him as he fell to his knees gasping for breath. “You need to order him to actually stop me or get out of my way,” Rain said, his voice piercing and easily heard even from Goujian’s distant hiding place. “He’ll die if you don’t.” It would not be a quick death either, for the Heavens were merciful, but the Death Corps Guard had no recourse, for he was caught in a paradox. Bar everyone’s path, but to do so would kill an Imperial Scion, and thus, he could neither stay nor leave, and so he fought for breath even though the weight of his Oaths would not allow it. The nameless guard’s face turned red, then purple, his bulging eyes panicked and desperate as he clung to hope, but Jixing ignored it all from high above. Down below, Rain watched the poor guard choke to death on stage, and only Goujian and other Scrying eyes could see the conflict and pity in his expression as those amber eyes took in the slow suffering his presence was causing.

Then, inexplicably, Falling Rain stepped back, and the unfortunate Death Corps Guard finally drew breath, gasping and heaving as he collapsed to the stage. Raising his head to glare at Yang Jixing’s balcony, Rain asked, “Are you really so spiteful? Even now, you refuse to compromise? You erred in arresting my father, erred in denying me the right to attend his trial, erred in setting the Death Corps to block my path without the proper justification, but you would rather loyal Imperials die than admit it, and now the entire Citadel sees you for the man you are. A bully who would happily spill Imperial blood to take what is not his, and a fool who abuses his authority and would risk rebellion in a time of desperate war rather than admit his wrongs. Yang Jixing, you are a wastrel and an idiot who is not fit to lead, and as such, I refuse to acknowledge your authority.” Raising his voice for the first time since arriving in the square, Rain shouted, “I accuse Yang Jixing with dereliction of duty and criminal misconduct in a time of war. Is there any Justicar willing to hear my case?”

Much as he hated to admit it, Goujian was thoroughly impressed by Falling Rain’s political maneuvering. Though he might not have the law on his side, his actions proved that Yang Jixing was unwilling to compromise even the slightest to avoid bloodshed and conflict, while his words suggested this was a conflict based on greed and misconduct. Now, the Disciplinary Corps’ silence showed that they were complicit in Yang Jixing’s schemes, which lent credence to the claims of Baatar’s innocence. Coupled with the fact that Yang Jixing was an unknown, most would instinctively side with Baatar and Falling Rain, even though the former stood accused of treason and the latter was unlawfully demanding the freedom of an accused criminal.

And now it seemed like the boy would emerge victorious from this Imperial conflict, all without bloodshed or rebellion. Whoever was pulling Falling Rain’s strings was no less brilliant than the Uniter, which explained why the old schemer was so reluctant to proceed. A warrior barring your path was a threat one could plan for, but a hidden mastermind lurking in the shadows? Difficult, truly difficult to defend against.

“I, Colonel General Nian Zu, call into question the competence of the new Legate, Yang Jixing.” Dropping his Concealment, the Living Legend appeared on the edge of stage with fist clasped in a military salute, standing behind Falling Rain to support him while still keeping enough distance between them to appear neutral. “This servant requests the Disciplinary Corps to hear his case.”

“I, Major General Han BoHai, call into question...”

“I, Lieutenant General Situ Jia Yang, call into question...”

“I, Brigadier...”

“I, Colonel...”

“I Captain...”

As more and more Imperial Officers revealed themselves to support Falling Rain’s accusations, the pieces of the Uniter’s plan finally all fell into place, and Goujian cursed himself a fool for not seeing it sooner while marvelling at how naturally the Defiled mastermind had manoeuvred everything into place. Earlier, Goujian had cursed his allies for not biding their time and picking their targets, but who knew how long it would be before a Peak Expert like Nian Zu would let his guard down? This was not the Northern Wall, where he had a manor to reside in, and there was no way to tell if a given opportunity was an ambush set to force the Wraiths to reveal themselves. Now, the Northern Army’s greatest Military Officers were all gathered in one place, voluntarily coming out of Concealment for all to see, and Goujian would not let this opportunity pass. Even before the Uniter’s painful Sending arrived in his mind, he had already stealthily launched himself out of the midden heap and Concealed himself, his presence going unnoticed amongst so many Concealed Imperials coming out to lend support or simply enjoy the show. Never one to leave things up to chance, Goujian went one step further and Concealed himself from probing Domains as well as the physical senses. The concept remained the same, but the execution was different, in that rather than his Concealment being just an extension of his Domain, it also incorporated his Aura as well to emanate a second layer of obfuscation.

Yet another of the myriad possibilities hidden within Aura, alongside the mysteries of Oration and other such Talents the Uniter would not share with Goujian, but the Heavens would reveal all in good time.

There stood Nian Zu on stage in plain sight, hands clasped and head lowered in supplication to the Disciplinary Corps hidden within, a man of honour and integrity, unlike his Imperial Masters. Goujian scowled as he watched from the rooftop of a nearby restaurant and waited for opportunity to present himself. The Uniter wanted him to wait, said that one death must come first before all others, and Goujian disapproved, assuming the old schemer valued Falling Rain’s death over that of Nian Zu. A foolish trade, killing the boy and giving a chance to the General to go free, but Goujian still needed the Uniter’s wisdom for the time being.

More and more Officers revealed themselves until their voices all ran together, the message always the same and rarely changing. In a single day, a single action even, Yang Jixing had lost the North’s confidence, and the fiercely independent northerners would not be quick to forget this. The inept youth in question loomed over the crowd with a face red with rage, his veins throbbing and teeth cracking beneath the force of his gritted teeth, helpless to act but unwilling to accept defeat. What a disappointing Imperial Scion, but this, more than anything, proved to Goujian that the Imperials were no better than the rest of humanity, and only their stranglehold on the secrets of the Martial Path kept them in power. No wonder they recruited almost every Martial Warrior of note, bringing them away from the outer provinces and binding them with Oaths so that their precious secrets would never be revealed, and Goujian once again swore to tear down the Imperial facade of lies and bring Truth to all who would hear it.

Then, with barely a warning, the Uniter called Goujian to action as a Defiled Wraith, one of Goujian’s ‘comrades’ still dressed in Western garb, neatly separated Yang Jixing’s head from his shoulders, in full view of thousands of loyal Imperials.

How the Uniter could have planned this all in advance, Goujian would never know, but the unpredictable scheme unfolded beautifully before his very eyes. The Wraith died before finishing the follow through to his attack, his heart skewered by the sword of a bearded Imperial who appeared a fraction of a second too late, ruddy cheeks blazing with fury as he roared, “Rebel filth! You dare sully Imperial honour and ally yourself with the Enemy?! Death Corps and Royal Guardians, arrest the traitor Falling Rain! Slaughter all who resist!”

Cackling with delight, Goujian drew upon the full strength of his reforged body and launched himself towards his foe, collapsing the roof beneath his feet and savouring the truncated screams which emerged from within. The distance between him and his target closed in an instant, but even this was enough time for Nian Zu to react, his head turning, feet moving, and mace rising to see, dodge, and intercept the perceived threat, but it was too little too late. Time slowed as Goujian watched his hooked sword scythe through the air, hurtling in an arc which would pass clean through his foe’s neck. Despite holding all the advantages, he knew that this was a game of millimetres and marvelled at the still Living Legend’s strength. Instead of cleanly decapitating him, Goujian’s sword just barely opened Nian Zu’s throat in a spray of arterial blood, and the taste of salty victory was more divine than Goujian had ever imagined. The shocked disbelief in Nian Zu’s eyes made it all the better, his brow furrowing in confusion before raising in denial as his body gave out, only for his eyes to narrow in anger and finally, ease into acceptance. There, in his final moments of clarity, Nian Zu gazed upon his killer, and Goujian smiled back.

“I warned you in Sinuji, did I not?” Goujian’s voice came out as barely more than a whisper, but the Living Legend could hear him well enough. “You should have guarded your head better, because I always accomplish what I set out to achieve.”

And just like that, the Living Legend Nian Zu, lived no more.

Chapter Meme