Chapter 614 unedited and unmemed

https://docs.google.com/document/d/1iq1v7a6n6TknLtkqWcAMhikHH8Knc3MXfQkl2WW6knE/edit?usp=sharing

The thrill of the hunt was nothing compared to the dread of the hunted, and Goujian relished the novelty in this reversal of roles.

For most of his life, Goujian had been the hunter, a misguided and deluded fool who ferreted out those who stumbled across the Truth. Though he regretted all those wasted years in service to a lie, he still took pride in skills and believed himself second to none when it came to exposing the Chosen of Heaven for who they were. There were drawbacks to embracing the Truth, and uncontrolled expression of emotion stood chief among them, but such was the price the Heaven’s demanded. True Balance was a tricky thing, as one could hardly surrender to emotion and retain full control at the same time. Too much or not enough, one was as useless as the other, which meant a few mishaps were bound to happen when walking 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 relief and regret, indulge in grief 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 his mortal trappings and emerge as a being of pure Divinity.

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 became 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 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, it still wasn’t enough to protect him from a Honed Spiritual Weapon. In high level exchanges, speed was king, and Goujian’s speed and reaction times were sorely lacking, no better than they were before his rebirth. If not for this oversight on his part, he would have easily defeated Nian Zu in Sinuji, who merely counted as a Peak Expert, 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. There was something important about a sturdy body that Goujian didn’t understand, but it was of minimal use in a battle against Experts, so despite making prodigious improvements over the last six months, he was certain that if presence became known to his unseen hunters, it would most certainly end in his death, for Nian Zu was merely one among many Peak Experts residing in the Northern Citadel.

Were it up to him, Goujian would have never set foot inside this dragon’s den, but he had happily accepted the young Emperor’s request to get away from his arduous training. Though happy to wage war on the front lines and give his Chosen of Heaven time to learn and grow, the young Emperor wanted his Wraiths in position to act from behind enemy lines, an aggravating task which fell to Goujian. It immediately became obvious that he would have to personally take action, as the first group of infiltrators were too obviously Defiled, and had no chance of successfully infiltrating the Empire. Instead of losing himself in the Dao day after day, Goujian had no choice but to find and train Chosen who might suit the young Emperor’s needs, Chosen who underwent some strange process to turn them into the much feared Wraiths. Unfortunately, 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 bear guarded her cubs. Still, an errant word of advice did much to help Goujian along his Path and shore up the weaknesses of his physique, so he did as the young Emperor asked and helped their ‘Mentor’ in this task. Sneaking Wraiths across the battle lines proved more difficult than expected, as the Imperials had too much time to prepare for their coming and were carefully guarding against intruders from the west. The Arid Wastes was out of the question, and there were too many variables to easily Conceal an entire ship on the Azure Sea, especially with the enemy watching for ships sailing east or north, which left Goujian with but one route into Central.

In the dead of night, he and his Chosen Wraiths slaughtered the entire retinue of an isolated, no-name Captain and absconded with their armour and weapons, whereupon they simply marched back to the Northern Citadel in plain view.

Of course, this wasn’t enough to get them through the gates, but it was enough for Goujian to bring his allies east until they could see the new Western Wall, at which point they snuck out into the Azure Sea and swam their way past the final line of barricades in a single, exhausting night. From there, they travelled overland to the farthest corner of Central, where Goujian set to work crafting believable personas for all of them to fit into. The majority of the Chosen Wraiths became sailors working under a friendly merchant, one whose name had been supplied by the Uniter. Others became servants to a minor noble, again supplied by the Uniter, and still others found work as labourers, farmhands, and aspiring land owners under Falling Rain’s initiative to bring workers to the Western Border. Those poor, misguided souls were being used as 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 was worth less than the dirt they tread upon in the eyes of the Imperial Clan.

With the majority of his comrades accounted for, Goujian was left with a conundrum. In Sinuji, he had 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 no lend itself to subterfuge. Where he was once possessed a lean, lanky frame which looked positively decrepit in loose robes and a hunched back, he was now too tall, too large, too handsome, and too memorable, all of which meant he could never pass as a commoner.

To make matters worse, the young Emperor had saddled Goujian with six, mute Wraiths who could never pass for commoners or Imperials, so he had no choice but to take on a less than ideal identity, that of a mediocre Martial Warrior who owned and operated a caravan escort service alongside his six Western comrades. To account for their silence, he claimed they cut their tongues and took Oaths of silence as a show of contrition for failing to defend their home province, and the swathed silken veils and loose robes hid their true identities well enough. 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.

In truth, he thought it would be a simple matter to bring them all into the Citadel, at which point he would be free to return West and resume meditating upon the Dao, but he failed to properly account for one crucial factor.

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 was 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 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, there was 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 ludicrous 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 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 before they struck. Were these his Aspirants of old, they would have made sure that their absences weren’t noted, 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, and became 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 Wraiths weren’t even particularly effective in their assassination attempts, only killing a modicum 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, even after losing almost 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.

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 around the entire park bordering it. 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, spotting 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. 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 are, 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 harms 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 perspective 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 their 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 missing the chance to watch the 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, not even the lowliest soldiers who would have trained or served beside him, 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.

He always did enjoy hiding in plain sight, but when that wasn’t possible, it was best to hide where no one would think to look for you, which was why Goujian was happily ensconced in the middle of a midden heap, located in the busiest market district of the Northern Citadel not two minutes away from the command centre.

As for his comrades, 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 had been set loose to lead their pursuers back to their allies, but that was precisely why Goujian didn’t bother informing them of his plans. He intended to lay here in this filth until it came time to dump it, at which point he would Conceal himself within the wagon and allow himself to be carted out of the Citadel in plain sight. 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 confidant 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. Save your threats and learn your place, lest you be charged with rebellion alongside your treasonous dog of a ‘father’.”

Then time stood still as one of Goujian’s comrades separated Yang Jixing’s head from his shoulders, in full view of thousands of loyal Imperials.

...

Brilliant.

Absolutely brilliant.

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, “You dare ally yourself with the Enemy?! Loyal citizens of the Empire, arrest the traitor Falling Rain! Slaughter all who resist!”

Chaos erupted as fighting broke out in the square, with Death Corps charging across the stage and Bekhai warriors retalilating without hesitation, and it was all Goujian could do to keep from laughing with glee. Why waste effort killing the enemy when you could just convince them to kill each other for you? In one fell swoop, the Uniter forced Falling Rain to rebel and now the Imperials would take care of the problem for them.

Except once again, Goujian underestimated his Mentor’s shrewd foresight, revealed to him through long distance Sending. When the mind-numbing pain faded, Goujian picked his target out of the crowd as a familiar face revealed himself to try and take control of the chaos. “Stop!” Nian Zu commanded, clad in his distinguished, black-and-gold armour, but neither the Death Corps nor the Bekhai paid him any mind. “Stop fighting! By order of the Colonel General, stop damn you!”

Goujian didn’t even need the Uniter’s urging to act before launching himself out of the midden heap, Concealing himself not just from physical sight, but from probing Domains as well. 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 Nian Zu stood, thrust into the thick of battle and fending off Death Corps and Bekhai at the same time. The latter group was gracious enough not to point their weapons at the Colonel General, but the loyal slaves of the Imperial Clan had no such qualms, and Nian Zu was hard pressed to keep them back without bloodshed. Still, the Hero of the North did his best and his Famed Fifty lent their aid as well, but even from afar, it was all but impossible to make sense of the chaos, and Goujian used this to his advantage.

Goujian had cursed the Wraiths for refusing to bide their time and pick their moments, and he learned from their mistake. Perched atop the roof of a nearby restaurant, he waited for opportunity to present itself and was not left waiting long as Nian Zu stumbled back before the Death Corps, the Shooting Star lowered at his side to avoid injuring his allies. So foolish, to try and keep the peace even now, but that was the man Nian Zu was. A man of honour and integrity, unlike his Imperial Masters, and for this, he would pay the ultimate price.

Drawing upon the full strength of his reforged body, Goujian launched himself towards his foe even as the roof collapsed beneath his feet, unable to withstand the force of his jump. The distance between them 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 far 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, 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, 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.

“NO!” A sabre lanced towards Goujian’s chest, but he parried it aside, leaving the hero’s corpse to fall to the stage while spinning on his heels to face his new foe. One of the Famed Fifty, Clearsky Bao, a swarthy, heavyset man with a dusky complexion. Large though he might be, his strength was no match for Goujian’s as he muscled his foe into submission, forcing Clearsky’s sabre out and away before slamming his shoulder into the Peak Expert’s chest. An audible crack sounded as Bao’s lifeless body sailed away, crashing into Bekhai and Death Corps alike on its final flight. A metallic ring was all the warning Goujian needed to duck beneath a killing thrust, beset on both sides by two more of the Famed Fifty, Singing Spear Shi Yukun and Unflinching Binesi, their faces twisted in rage and mourning as they sought to avenge their hero and superior. To Goujian’s eyes, their weapons moved with a ponderous lack of haste and felt as light as a feather as he batted them aside, fighting in measured burst of deliberate motion so as to counteract his ingrained weaknesses. Though he still risked tearing his ligaments or dislocating his joints if he should move too abruptly, Goujian’s body had gone through multiple rounds of tempering in the months since its reforging. Though not as effective as willing the Energy of the Heavens to aid him, the Uniter taught Goujian another method to reinforce his body, one which was slower, inefficient, unreliable, and utterly agonizing, but what other choice did he have?

For several months, Goujian endured pain and suffering by day as various Demons pummelled him to near death, only to relive the same injuries while they healed naturally as he soaked in a medicinal bath 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. 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?

In the end, his suffering far outstripped the gains as Goujian was unable to kill either of his foes out of hand before being beset on all sides as Han BoHai and Situ Jia Yang joined the fray. His situation would have been far worse if not for Goujian’s remaining comrades taking to the field and distracting some of the strongest combatants present, including the damned Akanai of the Bekhai who seemed like a force of nature unto herself as she cleaved through one of those impossibly fast Wraiths with her silver crescent-moon halberd. That was all the time Goujian had to gawk as a flurry of blows slipped past his guard, the fearless Han BoHai closing in without regard for the consequences. Hooked sword flashing about, he backpedalled away from the bullish Warrior and fought like a man possessed in a desperate bid to escape, but even partially Concealing his weapon’s arc did him no good as his foes closed in without fear of death. Working in flawless coordination which stemmed from decades of fighting side by side, Yukun and Binesi kept Goujian on the defensive with feints and jabs while Jia Yang struck at the openings left behind with his full strength behind each blow, confident his Runic armour would protect him. All the while, the ever present threat of BoHai closing in left Goujian without recourse, as even a full strength kick wasn’t enough to slow his foe and left him with a mangled foot courtesy of the Major General’s spiked Spiritual Gauntlets.

Only speed and strength kept Goujian alive, that and the Heaven’s fortune, for just as he saw death approach in the form of Jia Yang’s sabre, the world shifted around him and he found himself standing high in the skies above the stage, with nothing but empty air beneath his feet. Beside him stood two of the Uniter’s armoured Demons, Goujian’s guardians who he thought he’d left behind in the West, but even as he began to question how they pushed so far into Central without being detected, the answer revealed itself in another ally of the Uniter’s.

“Stop,” he uttered, and unlike with the dearly departed Nian Zu, the combatants below obeyed, not out of fear or discipline, but because they were made to obey by his oppressive Aura sweeping through their ranks and crushing all resistance before it. The disturbance lasted only for an instant before Goujian felt an opposing Aura rise up to block his ally’s, but even this brief interruption was enough to bring everyone in the plaza to a freezing halt. Spurred by a Sent order, the Death Corps withdrew, and seconds later, the Bekhai did as well, their weapons no longer pointed at one another, but at the ally at Goujian’s side.

Such was the power of a Peak Divinity, a man who might well stand above all others in existence, the Immortal Zhu Chanzui.

Leaning heavily on his protectors, Goujian gave a small sigh of relief and savoured sweet victory once more as he gazed upon the scared masses below. Even if they somehow reconciled and Falling Rain were to emerge unscathed, Goujian and the Chosen of Heaven had dealt a crippling blow to the Empire today, for Nian Zu was dead and...

Wait...

Where was Nian Zu's corpse?

Author's note: I dunno about this ending. I was gonna go farther plot wise, but Goujian's PoV is kinda limited for the rest of what I wanted, so i dunno. I'mma leave it here for now, and see how i feel about it tomorrow. Lemme know your thoughts, next chapter not till tuesday, and as always, enjoy!