Chapter 112

The golden imperial seal lay quietly on the map drawn in blood.

A tiger formed the knob; though small in size, it emitted a faint but pure aura of supreme dominion—this was the Wang Yin of Tuyuhun, the greatest hero of the Western Regions since ancient times, who three centuries ago conquered the four corners, subdued thirty-six tribes, and leveled Buddhist kingdoms.

He slew the lords of each tribe and forged this object in a grand ritual where blood served as the furnace.

Po Jun slowly extended his hand, enveloping the Wang Yin, then lifted it up, closed his eyes for a long while, as if starlight qi swirled around him; then he opened his eyes and said, "The aura of sovereign dominion within has dissipated, but the residual traces are unquestionably intact."

"It seems Tuyuhun's downfall is tied to you."

Po Jun set down the Wang Yin and closed his eyes.

He pushed the Wang Yin back and said, "It's a final, lethal trump card—but you know as well as I do that using it now would be a terrible waste. For a dominator of the Western Regions, whether or not one holds the Wang Yin makes no difference."

"The Wang Yin is merely an ornament to his dominion."

"But if an ordinary man obtained it, it would be his death warrant. The dominant powers of the Western Regions have a thousand and one ways to make him vanish without a trace."

"Only when one possesses strength yet lacks great renown does this seal hold immense power."

Li Guanyi said: "My added value is that I possess this object."

Po Jun laughed and said, "Indeed, my lord, you've startled me—I have no idea how many more trump cards you hold. But please safeguard this item carefully; the powers of the Western Regions—the Tangut, the Buddhist kingdoms—are all here. If they learn the Wang Yin is in your hands, they will spare no cost."

"And those who seek this item also include Yuwen Lie of Ying State and Dantai Xianming of Chen State—even the Seven Kings of the Turkic tribes, who each seized a portion of Tuyuhun's land and now crave the legitimacy this seal represents."

"But that's fine—having this item means you won't lack buyers."

"In a crisis, if you give me the Wang Yin, I can secure eight hundred elite troops for you and guarantee the seal will eventually return to your hands. But if you have the resolve to part with it entirely, I can secure three thousand fully armored elite soldiers."

Three thousand fully armored elite soldiers—at least border army level, fully equipped—means six thousand logistical personnel, a total force of over ten thousand.

At least one One Third-Layer martial cultivator commands them.

Thirty Named Second-Layer Captains.

Over six hundred Duke Jingwu martial cultivators, all clad in armor, wielding long weapons and armed with crossbows. To vast powers like Chen State or Ying State, with their famed generals and divine generals, this might seem insignificant—but here in the Western Regions and beyond the passes, this is a warlord force.

Po Jun added, "But such an army consumes vast resources—not just money, but grain, steel, and medicine. In wartime chaos, these three are harder to obtain than gold or silver."

"Of course, if Xue Lao were here, he could sustain not just three thousand, but thirty thousand troops. As long as he held a single city, he could make it self-sufficient."

Li Guanyi suddenly recalled the carefree youth who carried a donkey and traveled ten thousand miles.

The young man shook his head softly and said, "It's still too early to speak of this."

Po Jun burst into laughter and said, "Yes, indeed too early. Though the world is in chaos, it has not yet collapsed entirely." He grew enthusiastic, noticing the blood he'd used had dried, so he bit his finger and resumed drawing. "Yet every nation under heaven has its flaws."

"The steppe suffers from its vastness. The eighteen steppe tribes each have their own pastures, clans, histories, and mutual hatreds. Only a true overlord could bind them into one force. The current Turkic Khan has ambition, but his sons have grown."

"When sons grow, they always seek to challenge their father's authority."

"Thus, steppe custom differs from the Central Plains: they send their eldest sons farthest away, granting them pastures and herds to avoid fratricide, while reserving all affection and inheritance for the youngest son."

"Vast territory with a weak ruler—that is the steppe's flaw."

"The Chen Huang seized power illegitimately. His dynasty was founded three centuries ago when Duke Chen, relying on Wu Gong, overthrew the Liang monarch. In recent decades, first the Regent, then Tai Ping Gong, both divine generals, have dominated the court."

"What the Chen Huang sees are arrogant, unruly martial generals—and the imperial authority crumbling."

"Thus, everyone seeks to restrain martial cultivators."

"I'll humbly sketch the world as he sees it."

Po Jun's face showed utter disdain:

"In his eyes, Chen State holds the southwest, with ample grain. Now General Liu Zhong has seized three hundred li of Western Regions territory as pasture; he has allied with the Tangut and joined forces with the Turkic, secured the southern river defenses, and stands firm against Ying State."

"It's a perfect strategy—like a colossal divine giant. But those unruly martial generals are the rotting flesh on this giant's body. If you keep fighting, this rot will only grow larger, so he intends to cut it away first."

"First, 【An Nei】—this is Chen State's state policy."

"Yet the finest warriors leave no glorious deeds. Chen State's current situation is indeed strong, capable of balancing Ying State—but the Chen Huang has overlooked one thing…"

Po Jun said, "It's only because, over the past decades, four supreme generals—Regent Xiao Wuliang, Tai Ping Gong, Yue Pengwu—have held the situation in check. Liu Zhong is talented, but his caliber barely matches your Yue brother."

"He is a fierce general, a capable commander—but not a strategist capable of securing heaven."

"These divine generals stabilize the court and expand territory; court officials praise them."

"Yet the emperor believes these victories are his own, creating disunity between civil and military, discord between scholar and warrior—this is Chen State's first flaw. The emperor has likely forgotten that today's strategic doctrine was left behind during the era of Tai Ping Gong and the Regent, when the empire's twin jewels ruled in tandem."

"The ruler ignores civil-military balance and kills famed generals to consolidate his own power."

"Though this emperor plans to blame the civil officials and aristocratic clans for the murder of these generals."

"Still, it chills the hearts of martial cultivators."

"This is Chen State's second flaw."

"Bureaucratic bloat, court decadence, rampant human trafficking, oppressive taxation, and the construction of the Western Garden—this is Chen State's third flaw."

"The Crown Prince has been named, yet the emperor dotes exclusively on his favorite concubine's clan. The consort clans clash, each vying for the throne—this is Chen State's fourth flaw."

"Once the Crown Prince is established, the victor will purge the loser; the defeated will seek escape to save their lives—this is Chen State's fifth flaw. All five flaws together can weaken a great state. With all five present, Chen State will inevitably decline within twenty years."

"Either martial generals will rise and seize power, or aristocratic clans will control the court."

"Within fifty years, unless a sage or virtuous monarch arises to turn the tide, Chen State will surely perish."

Po Jun took a sip of wine, his expression turning solemn: "As for Ying State, it has a wise monarch. The Turkic tremble. Of the top ten generals in the world, five are stationed there—one guarding the frontier, one being the Turkic Khan himself, and three others residing within Ying State."

Li Guanyi said: "Three…"

"How can Chen State possibly win?"

Po Jun sighed: "Because one of them is already ancient."

"That's why, during Chen State's peak years, when the Regent led Xiao Wuliang and Tai Ping Gong led Yue Pengwu, they could only match Ying State in stalemate, with alternating victories. That was also the zenith of Central Plains' might—I remember it well."

"During those years, whether in the Western Regions, the Turkic, or beyond the passes—"

"Whoever dared show their face in the Central Plains would be beaten down."

"When the Central Plains' divine generals exhausted their wealth and population in war, they would return home and sweep through the Western Regions and Turkic lands along the way. The Western Regions had their own divine generals too—but they could only fume in silence. Alas, only those years lasted."

Li Guanyi said: "What is the greatest divine general in the world?"

Po Jun's expression softened with reverence and awe, saying:

"He mastered countless battle tactics—none he did not understand—bloody and cruel, yet able to discern true heroes."

"On foot against foot, he defeated the heroes beyond the passes; on horse against horse, he defeated the Khan of the Tujue."

"On water against water, he defeated the Chen state."

"With fewer men, he won seventy-three great battles."

"And he had only one draw."

Li Guanyi sat up straight and said, "One..."

Po Jun whispered, "His opponent was the Regent, Tai Ping Gong—that was the era before Xiao Wuliang and Yue Pengwu had risen to power. In that battle, the Khan of the Tujue led Tie Futu, waiting on the grasslands for the wind to rise. The Tuyuhun had already withdrawn their troops, and they did so so abruptly for only one reason."

"The greatest general under heaven led his troops on a flanking maneuver, descending from the sheer cliffs stretching a thousand li north to south, advancing alone deep into enemy territory, nearly destroying Jiangzhou City outright, forcing the Regent and Tai Ping Gong—the two divine generals—to unite and fight to the death. Only when the grasslands had stepped onto Ying territory did he withdraw."

"How calmly he acted—his invasion like wildfire, his coming and going like the wind."

"He held Tai Ping Gong and the Regent under the point of his spear, promising those two young men that he would allow them to grow strong, then come and challenge him for the battlefield of the world."

"That was the battle that truly made Tai Ping Gong and the Regent famous under heaven."

"And the reason they became famous under heaven was merely because they had stood against the greatest general under heaven, who had advanced alone deep into enemy territory."

Li Guanyi shuddered in shock.

Po Jun said, "According to the records of my lineage."

"After that battle, Tai Ping Gong cleaned up the aftermath, preventing fleeing soldiers from harming civilians."

"When the Regent returned in fury, demanding why his brother's reinforcements had arrived so late, he found the Emperor himself stepping forward to greet him—the Emperor smiled warmly, clasped his hands tightly, and told him he had fasted on vegetarian food for thirty days, bathed daily and burned incense, and ordered his concubines to pray to all the Buddhas."

"He said the Buddhas had answered their prayers, and peace had finally come to the world."

"Then he shoved a stick of incense into the Regent's hand."

Po Jun recounted the records kept by disciples of the Eastern Land's star-gazing school at that time.

As he spoke calmly, Li Guanyi felt as if he had returned to that time.

At that time, the Regent had just used those very hands to kill his enemies; the spear tip of the greatest general under heaven had numbed his wrists. He used his palms to close his fallen comrades' eyes—but could not press them shut. The man had been his brother since age sixteen, who had fought beside him through every campaign, now dead there.

Their corpses had not even been buried!

He had come back to demand answers, yet saw only the cheering imperial clan.

Then he was shoved incense in hand, led gently by his kind elder brother to worship the Buddha.

The Regent raised his head, staring at the towering, solemn golden Buddha statue, at his brother's eyes—he nearly crushed the incense in his fist, but did not. It was sandalwood, threaded with gold silk, each strand more expensive than a bundle of wolf-tooth arrows; he could not bear to waste it.

He wanted to weep, to scream and rage—but instead, he quietly inserted the incense into the censer. The incense smoke rose thickly; music and dance continued, unaware.

The blood-reek within the scabbard still stank fiercely.

The historical records describe the Chen Huang's reaction upon receiving the battle report.

【The Emperor wept several lines, then stopped.】

In this battle, Li Wanli, a commoner, was granted the unprecedented title of Tai Ping Gong; the Emperor's younger brother was enfeoffed as Prince of Puyang. The Emperor relocated Tai Ping Gong to the Western Regions, while Prince of Puyang remained in the Central Plains, near Ying territory—both far removed from Jiangzhou and Jingcheng.

From then on, these two generals—who had once joined hands to counter the greatest general under heaven, sworn brothers who had met in the wilderness and risen together to the pinnacle of the world—were separated.

From then on, east and west lay apart.

Except for thirteen years ago, they had never met again in this lifetime.

Po Jun spoke of the past, then added, "Do not think Tai Ping Gong was foolishly loyal. Do not forget: from the moment the Regent rose in rebellion until he imprisoned two emperors, Tai Ping Gong never returned—yet..."

He fell silent, wearing an expression a young man could not understand, and whispered:

"Yet later, even Prince of Puyang changed."

"He had once been the hero who saved the world from fire and water—but once seated on the throne, became the most brutal monarch."

"Tai Ping Gong suffered the most."

"He spent his life rushing about, only to discover that even his comrades-in-arms, his brother, had turned into enemies—become the very monarchs he, as a young man full of fire, had sworn to overthrow. His path had become one of betrayal, shattered and alone."

"Yet he still fought for the peace of the common people. If he did not fight, this world, this Chen state, would become nothing but a chessboard for warlords—no one would stand for the people."

"And in the end, he raised his blade and fought for the sake of his wife and children."

"He died from exhaustion."

"This was the Chen state's final hidden threat."

Po Jun looked at Li Guanyi, and spoke slowly, word by word:

"That greatest general under heaven has merely grown old—he has not died."

"And the Regent still lives."

"That crippled old wolf king still lurks in this age."

"His best brother, friend, enemy—Tai Ping Gong is dead. The Regent will not sit idle. Such a man—a monster, a brute, a hero, a man of deep feeling—will die only on the grandest battlefield, with the heroes of the world as his guests of honor. He will never die quietly on a bed."

"And they will all be your enemies."

Li Guanyi lowered his gaze, thinking of his father and mother. At last, he gripped Murong Qiushui's sword and asked again: "If I choose to live in peace, will they spare me?"

Po Jun answered: "No."

"Tai Ping Gong bears a great name under heaven."

"Let me put it this way: the southwest of the empire is stable—but if you rise in the Western Regions and become one of the world's warlords, and then reveal yourself as Tai Ping Gong's son, at least one-third of the southwest will rally to you at once."

"At least one-third."

"Among the armies you fight, soldiers from the southwest will desert to your side, without fearing you will kill them."

The young man stared at the youth before him, yet seemed to gaze beyond him—as if seeing the legendary heroes of that age—and whispered:

"This is the final power your father left you."

"Tai Ping Gong's son—seek peace!"

"This phrase, the warlords of the world do not recognize."

"But the common people of the world recognize this banner!"

"But the suffering masses of the world know this hero!"

"So how could the Emperor possibly let you live? Whether you have the will to vie for the empire doesn't matter; as long as you have the potential to throw the world into chaos, you cannot be allowed to live."

The young man gently touched his chest, lowering his gaze.

His mother gave up one-third of her soul and Nascent Soul for him; his father held the rear, clearing a path, dying to eliminate the elite warriors of the Guardian State Manor and the Imperial House so he could survive—so should he take up his parents' flame and continue the path left unfinished?

Li Guanyi did not know if such a grand ideal was too distant from him.

But he understood one thing.

How cruel this world is—it is like a whirlpool, dragging everyone into it, pushing them toward mutual slaughter. He answered: "Then let us slaughter. Such blood feuds. Such heavenly fate."

"They never spared me."

"I have no intention of sparing them either."

Li Guanyi clasped his hands and bowed low.

It was the ritual of ancient kings enfeoffing generals and appointing ministers; thus, Pojun did not evade it—he accepted the bow, then placed his right hand over his left and bowed in return.

The young man whispered: "Please, Mr., aid me."

Pojun said: "Agreed."

Together we share the same foe.

Together we rise to act.

Together we march; life or death, we shall not betray!

Thus, the ancient pact was sealed.

And at this moment, from afar, the voice of the Imperial Palace Guards finally reached them.