Rage and joy.

Two emotions which rarely went hand in hand, but this was what Goujian felt as his sword scythed through Nian Zu’s neck. To think that he’d come so far as to open with a killing blow against a Colonel General, even if it was one dealt in the ensuing chaos moments after his allies murdered the newly appointed Legate Yang Jixing. This was Goujian’s crowning achievement, his moment of glory after a lifetime spent wasted in service to a lie, but he had many lifetimes ahead of him yet, so long as he emerged from this battle unscathed.

Easier said then done, for Nian Zu’s life had yet to fade when Clearsky Bao made his move, the iconic blue-steel sabre brushing against Goujian’s robes before his own initial swing was even complete. Moving on Insight alone, he followed through with the already completed attack and turned it into a brilliant textbook parry, one that sent his foe hurtling back from whence he came. Still yet to learn his lesson, Clearsky attacked again, and now that Goujian was ready and watching, the fastest Warrior of the North seemed to move at a veritable crawl. Sidestepping into a blind angle of the attack, Goujian lowered his shoulder and met speed with raw power, and the latter handily won with a splat.

And so died Goujian’s second victim, his life gone before his corpse hit the ground, and soon enough, Clearsky Bao funeral pyre would darken his namesake with clouds of smoke and ash.

Immovable Binesi and Singing Spear Yukun arrived next, two more of Nian Zu’s Famed Fifty, and Goujian was more than happy to send them to join their beloved commander. Despite being outnumbered and supposedly outmatched, Goujian held the upper hand in all their exchanges, a development that surprised even him. Never would he have thought to have progressed so quickly, and he relished the power of Heaven’s Truth. The heady rush of combat coursed through his veins as he traded blows with the two spearmen, but even though their movements were easily read and his power was unmatched, he was not yet used to direct confrontation, and old habits died hard. Whenever he saw an opening to attack his foes, his instincts held him back, for even ants can bring down an elephant provided there were enough of them. Weaving in and out of battle through clever use of Concealment, he took full advantage of the chaos to engage his foes on more favourable terms, as Binesi and Yukun were a difficult pair to dispatch. The former exposed Goujian’s weaknesses for all to hear, but he made use of this in combat and tried to mend his erroneous ways. A mistake, in hindsight, for despite his flaws, he was still stronger, faster, and more clever then both his foes combined, but his overabundance of caution kept him from killing the stalwart veterans who made full use of their superior experience to hinder his efforts to dispatch them.

Then, when victory almost seemed at hand, Dreadnaught Han BoHai joined the fray, an unstoppable powerhouse of force and fury that pushed Goujian’s reforged body to its utmost limits.

Slow and powerful, that was Han BoHai’s reputation, a mighty yet cumbersome Warrior, but that was only in comparison to his peers sitting at the peak of the Martial Path. Or rather, what common Warriors saw as the Peak, where mere mortals like Nian Zu, Shuai Jiao, Mitsue Juichi and their ilk stood, head and shoulders above everyone else but still a long ways away from the true summit. Goujian had touched upon this summit for a brief, ephemeral moment, but in his weakness, he could not see the way forward and stumbled back down to the valleys below, which left him in a unique position. He’d tasted the air of the Martial Peak, but he’d been blind, deaf, and dumb at the time, which offered him little advantage against those who had yet to even discern its existence. As such, despite Goujian’s superior Path laid out before him, he was far enough from the summit to struggle against the likes of Han BoHai, a graceless oaf whose solution to every problem was to pummel it out of existence.

Not the worst solution, as Goujian himself discovered first hand when trading blows with the behemoth Dreadnaught. Disgraceful for someone like himself to be found lacking in raw power, especially to a damned gorilla like Han BoHai, but it gave Goujian a fresh perspective of his reforged body. At first, his body had been riddled with flaws, forcing him to relearn how to move and fight without damaging himself, flaws he’d since corrected in some minor fashion with help from the Uniter and his exploitation of Heavenly laws. That was all there was to it, or so Goujian believed, but Han BoHai showed him that he was still holding himself back. Though unable to go all out, Goujian’s limits were far beyond what he dared push himself to, at least not until the Dreadnaught forced him to surpass those self-imposed boundaries. The resulting exchange showed him that he was not only able to match Han BoHai in pure strength, Goujian even came out a little bit ahead once he cut loose and gave everything to the fight.

And what a wonderfully refreshing experience it was, to stand in the limelight after decades spent skulking in shadows. This was where he belonged, at the forefront of the war against the Enemy, Heaven’s Chosen Champion here to uphold their cause.

There was nothing quite like a battle to the death, with two combatants putting everything on the line to settle their differences through pure Martial Might. As Goujian traded blows with Han BoHai, he exulted in glorious combat even as he raged at his foe’s stubborn refusal to break and die. Their duel was not without its merits, as Goujian gleaned much from the exchange with regards to the Martial Path, and were he not deep in Enemy territory, he would have happily let the duel play out to its natural conclusion. Alas, time was short and his foes were closing in on him from all sides, so he pushed himself to the utmost limits in an attempt to kill Han BoHai before more flies came to bother him.

But there were too many notable Warriors here in the Northern Citadel and they all seemed ready to ruin his fun, though Goujian didn’t expect that damnable Bekhai savage to interfere by casting blades of Chi from her empty hands. The blades struck and mangled both his feet, but he could still fight, and as he turned to face his new foe, one eye was cast into darkness and all he knew was pain and hatred.

The empty Void consumed him and he woke in the safety of his Natal Palace, a facsimile of the stark, bare room he lived in while under Mahakala’s tutelage, a servant’s room offered to them by a particularly pious merchant. Looking back on it now, he realized his time spent here was among the happiest years of his life, for even though he loved and cherished his Disciples like sons and daughters of his blood, he’d been too consumed by his misguided crusade against the ‘Defiled’ to ever truly enjoy his time with family. Every spare moment had been devoted to work or training, for there was no end to evil, and thus no rest for the benevolent, and revelations since had tainted those few pleasant memories that remained. As Mahakala’s student and an initiate of the Brotherhood however, Goujian had been free to do as he pleased, for the sinful monk believed that the lessons of life were best learned by living through it, experiencing all that the mortal world had to offer so that one might understand the sacrifice denying it entailed.

How foolish of Goujian not to see Mahakala’s hypocrisy, which was all so clear to him now. The monk spent his mornings chanting and flagellating himself to atone for his sins and reflect on his actions, only to pick up right where he left off the day before. Some monks of the Brotherhood likely stayed true to their Path, but Goujian imagined most strayed day after day only to assuage their guilt with what his teacher would have called ‘meaningful suffering’. Deceitful as Mahakala’s lessons might have been, Goujian couldn’t deny he’d been happy then, learning to read and write, appreciate art and calligraphy, build homes and carve wood, alongside a multitude of other meaningless skills the Brotherhood put much stock in, all while under Mahakala’s protection. It was a simple, carefree existence, but one he ultimately realized was no different from hiding one’s head in the sand, for even though the Brotherhood sought to experience the Three Poisons in order to lend significance to eschewing them, they did so whilst isolated away from the world, a contradiction of goals Goujian only recently realized. At least Mahakala had the courage to immerse himself in the red dust of the mortal world under real life conditions, rather than replicate the experience behind the safety of their isolated monastery walls.

Thus it came as no surprise to learn Mahakala had been something of an outlier when it came to the Brotherhood, but Wisdom Vyakhya was another, one who’d discovered the Truth just as Goujian had, but was far further along his Path. The old Wisdom had an interesting take on the Noble Eight-Fold Path and the direction the Brotherhood should take, one Goujian was most intrigued by. The Right Livelihood dictated to live in a way to cause no harm, while the Right Effort necessitated the prevention of unwholesome states, those of evil and unwholesome thoughts dictated by the Three Poisons. However, the First Noble truth stated that life is suffering, while the second Noble Truth was that mortals suffer because of the Three Poisons. Together, this brought about an interesting dilemma, for if the Brotherhood sought to follow the Noble Eight-Fold Path, then they were bound by the Right Effort to end all suffering. However, if life is suffering, then there could be no end to suffering without also an end to life, which the Abbot took to mean that the Brotherhood could not end all suffering, because doing so would be in violation of the Right Livelihood, among other virtues.

Wisdom Vyakhya disagreed. Ending all life and suffering was akin to freeing all the souls trapped within Samsara, the cycle of reincarnation which begets all life, which in turn was a state of existence the living only valued because they feared the unknown which came after. As enlightened monks of the Brotherhood and adherents to the Noble Eight-Fold Path, they knew that life was merely a transitory phase to prepare our eternal souls for what came next: ascension to the beyond. Without Samsara to trap us within the cycle of reincarnation, there would be no barrier to ascension, so by ending all life and the means to propagate it, the doors to Nirvana would then be open to any and all who cared to step through them.

A novel view of the matter, to do harm in pursuit of the greater good, and while wholesale slaughter might seem morally reprehensible, nature was not so kind as to let all its creatures live in eternal peace and harmony. Death and conflict were two core tenets of existence, ones meant to propagate suffering and sin, so better to let the fires run rampant and burn the world to ashes, so that a new path might be cultivated in the aftermath.

And so Goujian found his life’s true goal, not merely to overthrow the Dog Emperor and supplant him, for he saw the errors of this Path. The Emperor would still have to die for his sins, but Goujian had no intentions of taking the throne for himself, or bestowing it upon another. No, overthrowing the Empire would merely be the first step, for now he had a higher purpose, to elevate all of humanity and bring them with him on his journey to Nirvana.

All this and more, he discussed with Wisdom Vyakhya in great length, who took it upon himself to mend Goujian’s patchwork foundation while also Healing his body, mind, and spirit from the wounds he took in the Northern Citadel, where he’d failed to kill Nian Zu and only escaped alive thanks to Zhu Chanzui’s direct interference. Grateful though he was to his two-time saviour, Goujian was in no condition to thank the Ancestral Beast, for his injuries were so serious he had yet to wake. His discussions with Vyakhya took place within the sanctity of Goujian’s Natal Palace, and for a time, he was reminded of the happiest time in his life once more, when his only purpose was to learn for the sake of knowledge itself. How the Wisdom made his way into Goujian’s Natal Palace was a question the man refused to answer, stating that some lessons were best learned without guidance. Not the most helpful response ever, but Goujian knew the truth behind the Wisdom’s words because he’d used them often enough when teaching his own Disciples.

Wen Zhong, the serious scholar who lived for his work. Stoic Sochun who never wavered once when facing the trials and tribulations of Heaven. Sun-Sin, the wild southern child who grew into a fine, educated young man with a unique perspective few could truly understand. Chubby Mapan, whose love of sweets was only surpassed by his empathy for humanity, his eyes always full of tears when administering the Mother’s Mercy. They were all gone now, dead by Goujian’s own hand because they did not understand the Truth and sought to hinder his new Path. A necessary sacrifice to make, but it pained him to know they were suffering still, trapped within the cycle of Samsara and unlikely ever to emerge. Only Yuanyin was left to him now, a determined and resolute young man who lacked the ability to think for himself, but Goujian loved his boy all the same. Thus, he asked Wisdom Vyakhya to oversee the boy’s education, for it was clear Goujian himself was too lacking a Mentor to ever guide anyone successfully.

The Wisdom was most gracious and accepted Yuanyin as his personal Disciple, an honour denied even to Gen and Mitsue Hideo, two of the most promising young Chosen of Heaven to join their ranks. Goujian had yet to meet the latter, but he had little hope that a spoon-fed noble possessed the requisite empathy and determination required of those Chosen Champions of Heaven, for their Path was long and arduous indeed. Regardless of his worries, Goujian gave his full attention to Wisdom Vyakhya and immersed himself in his lessons, and for a time, life was nothing short of perfection.

“Observe.” Pointing at the dissected corpse spread out across the table, Wisdom Vyakhya directed Goujian’s attention to the tiger’s flesh. “In what ways does the tiger differ from the human? Spare me the obvious answers, for I know you are capable of so much more.”

Quality of muscle. The texture was completely different from human flesh, denser, thicker, yet also more pliable as well, giving the tiger added strength and resilience compared to human counterparts. The organs were more efficient too, capable of making use of more while wasting less. Heart, lungs, kidneys, stomach, this was true for almost every internal organ, as Goujian discovered firsthand by studying the beast’s innards. There wasn’t actually a dead tiger, here in his Natal Palace, but only a facsimile so perfectly sculpted it was all but indistinguishable from reality. Created by the Wisdom himself, this showcased his understanding of tiger anatomy as well as his painstaking attention to detail, because while Goujian held absolute control here in his Natal Palace and could conjure whatever his imagination desired, he lacked the information needed to create a replica of a living beast. Without knowing the texture of a tiger’s muscles or how their organs were situated, any attempt to will a tiger corpse into existence here in his Natal Palace would result in an inaccurate representation of the real thing. His mind would simply fill in the unknowns as it saw fit, because as Wisdom Vyakhya pointed out, power was meaningless without knowledge to guide it, and that was a flaw they worked tirelessly to fix.

Once Goujian familiarized himself with the tiger’s internal organs, the Wisdom had him study a wolf, then a bull, bear, stag, oriole, snake, and mantis, the significance of which was not lost on him. Eight animals, eight Forms, but before Goujian could come to a proper conclusion, the Wisdom had him study a giant panda, elephant, carnugator, and various other powerful beasts in the wild. Not only did this showcase the astonishing breadth of knowledge the Wisdom possessed in matters of anatomy and biology, it opened Goujian’s eyes to how vast and all encompassing the Dao really was. There were many similarities amongst all the animals, but countless differences as well, and one could spend a lifetime trying to understand why those difference might exist. A single lesson left Goujian with more information to process than what he learned from a month of self-study in the greatest library of the West, which was where he’d previous sought answers to help mend his flawed physical body.

There was no haste to the Wisdom’s lessons, as he was happy to drone on and on about the process of efficient blood flow or proper breathing methods, and Goujian was ecstatic to simply listen and learn. Not for the first time, Goujian regretted his life’s decisions and the direction his chosen Path took, but even though he had been fooled by the Dog Emperor’s lies, he had the right intentions and thus had done the best he could with the information available to him. Now, he wondered what it would’ve been like if Wisdom Vyakhya had stumbled across him and become his Teacher all those years ago, instead of the hypocritical Mahakala who’d failed him so thoroughly. Perhaps Goujian would never have turned away from the Brotherhoods’ teachings and sought to apply what he thought to be True without their support. If he’d taken his vows, then the Bloody Confessor would never have existed, and all those Chosen of Heaven would still be alive today, allies in the Holy War whose lives were cut short by a misguided fool.

There was no cure for regret however, so Goujian gave his lessons his all and vowed to never let such a travesty happen again. Understanding anatomy was merely the first step, and the next came in the form of mathematics, an area of study which was never his strong suit. Numbers didn’t speak to him the way they spoke to Mapan, who took control of the Aspirants’ finances as soon as Goujian was sure the boy could manage it. Wisdom Vyakhya accepted no excuses however, and he showed Goujian the multitude of ways in which mathematics could be made easier, especially by a Martial Warrior in possession of a Natal Palace and near perfect recall. Then the mathematics grew more complex and rote memorization was no longer enough, but again, Wisdom Vyakhya broke his lessons down in a way that made them easy to understand. Force, inertia, velocity, trigonometry, astronomy, Goujian devoured these lessons and more, all of which put together was but a mere sliver of the Dao, yet even one as learned as Wisdom Vyakhya could not claim complete knowledge of even a single subject.

A case of literary theft: this tale is not rightfully on Amazon; if you see it, report the violation.

Further highlighting the fact that it was impossible to master the Dao in a single lifetime, and thus the Penitent Brotherhood led by the Abbot was following the wrong Path.

Next came lessons in pharmacy, or what the Wisdom called chemistry, and again, Goujian was taken aback by the fathomless depths of the Wisdom’s knowledge, second only to the unknowable Dao. Once he had learned enough to suit the Wisdom’s tastes, Goujian set to envisioning the perfect human body, one without the marked flaws of his initial attempt. Though he managed to fix many of those defects by enduring constant pain and suffering meant to break down his body so that the Energy of the Heavens might repair it anew, Wisdom Vyakhya showed him that this was merely the Uniter being too miserly with his time and secrets to bother with teaching Goujian properly. “To cultivate means to nurture the truth, to seek an understanding of the Dao and the fundamental laws of creation and destruction.” Giving Goujian a placid look that told him he should know better, Wisdom Vyakhya added, “The Uniter only cares about the result, and he would have you give yourself over to the mercy of the Heavens, so that they might judge what is best for you. While useful to some, we pursue a higher understanding, and thus, I demand more of you than he.”

Such was the difference between Insight and understanding, and between the two sat a gulf as wide as the Heavens themselves. Gen had touched upon this once, but Goujian had failed to see what lay in front of him, that while the Uniter demanded understanding from Gen, he was more than happy to direct Goujian down the route of mere Insight. Yet another duplicitous manipulator who directed him down the wrong Path, and Goujian would not soon forget this.

Luckily, he had the Wisdom here to guide him along the Path of understanding and help him unravel the mysteries of the human body and forge a truly perfect physique. How Goujian was supposed to accomplish such a feat without achieving True Balance, he could not say, nor would the Wisdom offer any hints. “Crawl before you walk,” he would say, every time Goujian brought the matter up. “And walk before you run. The Dao encompasses all, so to learn even a small portion of it will take time and patience aplenty. I share with you knowledge painstakingly gathered over multiple lifetimes of dedicated study, and you think yourself ready to move on after a mere three months of study?”

Three months? It was the first time either of them had brought up the concept of time, and Goujian only then realized how long he’d been in convalescence. His injuries taken at the Northern Citadel were far worse than he thought, and his recovery would be long and arduous indeed, but Wisdom Vyakhya assured him that this was the perfect opportunity to rebuild his physical body from the ground up. Eventually, he revealed that they would still be utilizing herbal baths and physical beatings to power Goujian’s transformation, but the difference was that the Wisdom expected him to direct those changes himself, rather than rely on the Energy of the Heavens to do things for him. A lofty goal indeed, and even though it seemed well within sight, the Wisdom always had something new for Goujian to learn every time he came by for a lesson.

This was a good life, the lot of a scholar, and were it not for the grave miscarriage of Heaven’s justice propagated by the Imperial Clan, Goujian would happily spend the rest of his days in this joyous, peaceful manner.

At Wisdom Vyakhya’s urging, Goujian meditated within his Natal Palace and ruminated on the direction he intended to take, keeping all his lessons in mind as he devised a plan of action. His first plan was a disaster, one the Wisdom picked apart without mercy or compassion, and the shame of his incompetence brought Goujian low for several days. Time well wasted however, for Goujian was much more careful with his second proposal, and then his third, fourth, and fifth iterations when the previous ones all failed to reach the Wisdom’s requisite standards. Trial and error was a poor way to go about unravelling the secrets of Creation, so Goujian counted himself fortunate to have the guidance of someone as brilliant as Wisdom Vyakhya. The man might even already have a perfect plan in mind, but he would keep it to himself because otherwise, Goujian would learn nothing from this most precious of experiences.

Finally, Goujian presented the Wisdom with a plan he approved of, so it came time to reforge his body and return to the world of the living.

Pain greeted him when he opened his eyes, his mind a jumbled mess struggling to make sense of his situation. On some level, he was prepared for this, had been forewarned that his body was in dire straits thanks to the shard of metal that penetrated his skull and lodged itself in his brain, delivered by none other than the traitor MuYang. Wisdom Vyakhya could have extracted the projectile and Healed the injury with ease, but instead, he left this for Goujian to do this by himself. Another lesson, and a much needed one, for it would be his first time directing his Chi and efforts not with his mind, but with his soul instead. For good reason too, as his mind was currently in shambles and utterly useless for his purposes, which meant Goujian had no choice but to rely on his soul to guide his actions and Heal his wounds.

If he failed, then he would die, for there would be no additional aid offered or rendered. That was the condition Wisdom Vyakhya had laid out in exchange for his teachings, one Goujian eagerly accepted in his pursuit of the True Human Path. Only by reaching the pinnacle of humanity would he understand the limitations of mortality and divest himself of all mortal trappings to ascend as a being of pure Divinity, so if failure meant death, then it could only mean that he was never destined for Divinity.

Which was absolutely absurd, for he was Goujian, a Chosen Champion of the Heavens fated to help cleanse this world of lies and corruption, beginning with the cancer that was the Imperial Clan.

Drawing upon his faith and conviction, Goujian pushed through the physical pain and sought Balance. Not the false Balance of the Empire, but True Balance, the embrace of all emotions pleasant or otherwise, emotions which welled up as his mind fixated on bittersweet memories of the past to distract him from impending doom. Yet another example of the flaws of Heaven’s Path, for the human body was as far from perfect as one could be. And why not? In Heaven’s eyes, functional was already detrimental to their purposes, which was to propagate the endless cycle of Samsara and suffering.

Life is suffering, and Goujian meant to put an end to it all, but first, he must suffer more.

Darkness veiled his eyes, and he was eight years old again, watching his father beat his mother to death with bare hands. Goujian laid in bed with the covers over his face, quiet as the grave and unwilling to move a muscle. Not because he was scared, which he was, but because he was selfish and didn’t want to die alongside his beloved mother, the woman who loved and cherished him beyond all else and went hungry so he would have enough to eat.

The sun had yet to rise when he ran away, never once looking back at the seemingly happy home he grew up in. The guards hung his father, but Goujian garnered no satisfaction from this, for he loved both his parents dearly, even though he feared his father for what he’d done. Alone and unloved, Goujian suffered through all the trials and tribulations that followed, fighting amongst other street urchins for mere scraps and killing without blinking just to be safe. He lived by the laws of fear and strength, knowing that if he were to ever show weakness, then that would mean his death, for others saw him as a ruthless killer, when in truth, he was just a scared boy of ten who wanted nothing more than to hug his mama tight and beg her to forgive him for leaving her to die.

Mama knew. He remembered this now, she knew he was awake, saw him watch her die, and she looked away. She looked away so that she would not give it away, so that his father would not notice as well. Even to her last breath, his mother sought to protect her son, but Goujian thought of nothing and no one but himself.

At eleven, he killed Silent Pei and made a name for himself, only to come to Mahakala’s attention a few years later. The monk was a curious sort, one whom Goujian tolerated only because he couldn’t kill the annoying bastard and had no choice but to endure his sermons. It took years, but Goujian eventually accepted the monk’s teachings and gave up the life of a killer to focus on bettering himself. The beatings were nothing, but reflecting on all his sins and transgressions left him bent double beneath the weight of his guilt, and it was years before he finally came to terms with his past.

As a grown man, he was filled with righteous anger upon learning how lax the Empire’s laws were, favouring nobles above commoners and caring not for the safety and well-being of its most vulnerable. It was highly likely Goujian’s father had succumbed to the Enemy himself, which would explain why a peasant farmer would kill his wife unprompted. This led to countless arguments with Mahakala, in which Goujian insisted they could do more to benefit the people, that they should do more to help guard against the insidious whispers of the Enemy, but the stubborn monk drank and sinned his way through every day and night and cared nothing for Goujian’s valid arguments.

Leaving his Teacher was harder than leaving home, for Goujian truly loved the life of an initiate. He possessed a hunger for knowledge and a mind to match it, but there was much work to be done out in the world. He toyed with the idea of joining the army, but instead, he gathered a few like-minded allies and set out in search of signs of Defilement. Against all odds, he uncovered clues of an outbreak and tried to bring it to the local administrator, but without a noble to put in a good word or coin to grease the clerk’s palms, he was unable to secure a meeting with anyone of importance. Undeterred, Goujian set out with his comrades with clubs and pitchforks, intent on dealing with the Defiled themselves and ending the local threat once and for all.

His first mission ended in complete disaster, for the Defiled villagers proved to be far stronger than anticipated. Goujian was the sole survivor of the attack, but the death of his comrades was enough to prompt an investigation by the local administrator, whom Goujian finally had the chance to speak with. Rather than share the credit for uncovering a Defiled plot, the administrator tried to have Goujian poisoned and claimed all the credit for himself. Goujian survived, if just barely, and later on would learn he only did so because Mahakala had been there watching over him the entire time, if only to ensure his continued survival.

This setback was not enough to dissuade Goujian, and he returned to his holy crusade against the Enemy. It was during one of these missions where he found Wen Zhong, a mutilated child who barely still drew breath from within a charnel pit of death and depravity. That was how the boy remembered it, a boy who would forever remain one in Goujian’s eyes, even though Wen Zhong was only a few years shy of sixty when he died.

Killed by Goujian’s own hand. Oh how that pained him, as did the deaths of his other Disciples, each one as precious as a child in his eyes. While BoLao’s death had almost destroyed him, at least it spared him the pain of having to kill her himself, for sacrificing the others had been necessary in order to pursue his Path. It was his fault, this Goujian accepted, for he had taught his children poorly and was unable to undo a lifetime of indoctrination in only a single day. The Heavens were cruel, denying them the Truth it shared with him, and he would forever have to live with their blood on his hands, blood that would only wash out when he’d fulfilled his destiny as Heaven’s Chosen Champion.

Pain. Anger. Sorrow. Shame. Regret. Joy. Pride. All this and more, Goujian experienced anew as his mind and body drew close to death, the emotions welling up from within like an endless font of the human condition. All this and more, Goujian fed to the Void, a sacrifice of Soul and Emotion to fuel what was to come next. The Energy of the Heavens gathered around him, seeping into his Core and the herbal bath he was immersed in, but he refused to give this power free rein and clung to the Razor’s Edge instead. Too much was as bad as not enough, so he immersed himself in power and emotion while anchoring his thoughts with purpose and obligation, for he’d come too far, sacrificed too much, to simply falter and fail here.

Were he to allow it, the Energy of the Heavens would mend Goujian’s injuries and renew him to full health, no different from before he took this near-death injury. However, that was not his goal here, for by coming so close to death, it pushed him to the brink and enabled him to find True Balance once more, an opportunity too sweet to pass up. Armed with Vyakhya’s lessons and the power of a Divinity, Goujian would once again be given the chance to reforge his flawed, human body and reshape it into something more suitable for his needs. Even with all of the Wisdom’s expertise, there was no way for Goujian to create a perfect body, for perfection was anathema to life itself. Nothing could ever be perfect, for there could always be room for improvement, but Goujian would do his best to get as close to perfection as possible.

That was why he needed to study all those animals and learn how their organs functioned, so that he could take what he’d learned and use it to improve himself. The strength of a bull, the agility of a tiger, the durability of a rhino, the tendons of a deer, the metabolism of a bear, he gave himself all this and more, but he was not yet done. He took elements from the chitin of the mantis and used it to improve his skeletal frame, adding another reinforced layer over his overburdened bones. He modelled his skin after the thick, porous hide of the elephant, while simultaneously bringing more blood vessels to the surface to enable him to better shed the heat generated by his dense musculature. Then, he added a second layer of chitin in strategic areas of his flesh, a benefit modelled after the oriole’s hollow bones, one that would reduce the strain on his joints without negatively impacting his strength or durability. In fact, the added empty space was in some ways a benefit to toughness, providing an extra layer of protection to his inner organs from Resonation and other such internal attacks.

There were thousands of other minor modifications he added as well, but here in his damaged body and mind, he was already fast forgetting what they might be. The Soul was a vessel for Heavenly Energy, enabling him to process far more information than what the human mind could comprehend, but he was expending his Soul to control the Heavenly Energy fuelling his body’s reformation. That was the crux of the Martial Dao, the realization that the Soul was the linchpin of it all, a lesson one could not teach with mere words, for how could one explain the concept of a soul without first learning how to perceive or quantify what a soul really was? Even Wisdom Vyakhya had no answers here, and Goujian knew that if one were able to grasp the answer to this question, then they would wield the power of a True Divinity.

The power of Creation and Destruction itself.

How long the reformation process took Goujian could not say, but at times it felt like only seconds had passed, and others, as if he’d been lying in this tub for weeks without end. Only when he sensed his work was almost done did he allow the Energy of the Heavens to mend his physical mind, and as his mending organs forced the shard of metal out of his head, the renewed pain was almost too much to bear. The darkness rose to greet him once more, but he fought against the urge to submit, struggling to the very last because his work was not yet done, and this final but vital part required he take full control by himself.

Opening his Core to the Heavens, he greedily lapped up every drop of Chi he could and directed it throughout his newly forged body, suffusing his bones, muscles, organs, skin, and even his hair with Chi to the utmost limits. No longer did he intend to store Chi in his metaphysical Core, he meant to draw the Energy of the Heavens into his physical body itself. One with the World, he walked the thin line between struggle and surrender as he bound his body and soul even closer together than they already were. Doing so was a double-edged sword, for while destruction of his body would now result in damage to his soul, it would take a Peak Expert on the level of Mitsue Juichi to physically harm Goujian’s body, because not only had he physically improved himself to the best of his abilities, he was now a walking, talking, breathing Spiritual Heart.

This was the secret of the Brotherhood’s Path to Divinity, one they uncovered by studying animals in the wild. A secret jealously guarded by the Imperial Clan, according to Wisdom Vyakhya, and a step their Scions intuitively took much earlier along the Martial Path. This explained their significantly higher strength and talents, but now Goujian would use this to bring Heaven’s justice down upon them.

How ironic that in order to pursue the True Human Path, Goujian had been forced to study mere beasts. Praise to the Heavens, indeed.

“Well done.” The glowing praise echoed softly in Goujian’s ears, enhanced so that they were able to hear the ants crawling underneath the floorboards without the risk of going deaf from a loud shout. Opening his eyes, he reeled under the deluge of information that greeted him, for he saw more than before, yet another enhancement he was highly proud of. With these new eyes, nothing would escape his notice, and even the speediest of Peak Experts would be captured with crystal clarity. The Wisdom glowed with pride as he took in Goujian’s looming form, needing no inspection to tell that his student had done everything as instructed. “Good, good. Not yet a Divinity, but above all except the strongest of Peak Experts, you will be a formidable weapon of war indeed.”

“Thank you, Teacher,” Goujian said, bowing in heartfelt thanks. “Your student could not have succeeded without your guidance.”

“Words of gratitude are unnecessary,” the Wisdom said, his smile fading away beneath the weight of his statement. “Show me your conviction through action, and that will be gratitude enough.”

Knowing what the Wisdom wanted, Goujian glanced at his hooked sword, the one he’d renamed himself for. It was his favoured weapon, but he was no longer the same man he was before. Where the sword once fit comfortably in the palm of his hand, he now had to awkwardly clutch it between three fingers, for he was now a behemoth of a man compared to his former gaunt and spindly frame. To make matters worse, the weapon was too light and too short for his reach, the balance no longer a good fit for his size, and though it had served him well for many decades, it was no longer suited for his needs.

Placing the tip into the palm of his hand, Goujian Honed the blade and pressed down hard.

Flesh compressed and skin stretched, but as he put more strength into the blade, it was the weapon which gave way first. Metal snapped and screeched as he bent and broke his blade, the bound fragments of his Soul spilling out into the world at large, and though he was saddened by the loss, he knew this was for the better, because Spiritual Weapons were but another lie, propagated by the Imperial Clan to help keep their stranglehold on the Empire tight.

He would forge a new weapon for himself, once he learned to wield the Energy of the Heavens at will, but until such a time, he would have to make do. No matter though, for the Wisdom was right; Goujian himself was the weapon now, one which he would use to take the Dog Emperor’s head and put an end to the endless cycle of Samsara.

“What next?” he asked, knowing the Wisdom would have things all planned out, for there was nothing that could escape his notice.

“You will go speak with Gen,” the Wisdom replied, his disdain for the brat evident in his expression. “And tell him that Falling Rain is with the Abbot, hiding in the Arid Wastes. Your Senior Brother knows the location, and he will guide you all there.” Switching to Sending, the Wisdom continued, “Once there, you will ignore the Uniter’s orders and kill Falling Rain, for we can ill afford to let such a prize fall into that fool’s hands. Kill the boy and bring his body back for this monk to study, and then we shall uncover his secrets together.”

There were more layers to this than Goujian understood, but he was nothing if not loyal to the cause. “Yes Teacher,” he said, bowing low in respect. “Your student will do as instructed.”

And gladly too, for it was long past time for that damned brat and Imperial puppet to die.

Chapter Meme