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6.42 - The Eastward March
🕑 Added 2025-06-24 22:00:02 +0000 UTCAlthough they each had the insights He Yu granted them, it took nearly two months apiece for Li Heng and Chen Fei to break into Divine Soul Apotheosis. Even though Chen Fei emerged from the cultivation chamber fully broken through and with her spirit fully intact, it didn’t stop He Yu from fretting the entire time Li Heng was secluded. Just as he had the whole time Chen Fei had been in the chamber. Despite her efforts to assure him it would be fine, he only fully relaxed once Li Heng likewise emerged, his newly Eighth Realm Spirit complete and gushing power.
As momentous an occasion two Eighth Realm breakthroughs were, they had scant opportunity to celebrate. A few jars of wine, and a single evening was all they could afford. Summer had come, and while cultivator armies were far less dependent upon the season, now was the best time to move. Banishing what would have been a monstrous hangover for a mortal with just a quick pulse of his qi, He Yu joined the others in the central courtyard to the Li estates.
Tan Zihao and Li Renshu stood off to one side, quietly conferring with one another. Both clearly wanted the opportunity to test themselves against Jin Xifeng, but He Yu had spent more than enough time debating that point. As much as they might want otherwise, both had come around to the idea they were far more suited to dealing with her followers than He Yu, Chen Fei, and Li Heng were. Their job was arguably the more important—depriving Jin Xifeng of her base of power was the linchpin of their entire plan. It wouldn’t do to have someone responsible for that choke at a critical moment.
Tan Xiaoling and Yan Shirong were there, too. As with the march from the Jade Kingdom, Tan Xiaoling had been given command of the armies. Her father had explained that as powerful as an individual cultivator may be, a single person couldn’t occupy territory, let alone effectively control it. The armies would help them restore and then maintain order in the capital and the surrounding lands, while also warding off any of the more ambitious nobles while they all dealt with the political aftermath. Yan Shirong would oversee their coordination and had crafted a number of constructs specifically for that purpose.
Zhang Lifen, Ren Huang, and Yi Xiurong had all opted to come as well. They would join Tan Zihao and Li Renshu in dealing with Jin Xifeng’s followers in Jiankang. All three of them would be a tremendous help there, with their techniques all easily capable of the wide-ranging devastation that task required. More importantly, at least in He Yu’s mind, none of them had any particular moral qualms about such work. They were ruthless enough, and their Dao was either ambivalent on the issue, or agreed with the plan in principle.
He Yu joined Chen Fei and Li Heng in this last council meeting. He arrived in his armor of blue and green serpent scale, the breastplate and bracers fitting him perfectly. The scripting work eased the flows of his qi while weaving powerful defensive formations. Along with his guandao, he was about as prepared as he could be in terms of armaments.
Chen Fei and Li Heng were dressed as usual. Chen Fei in her leathers and fur, the bronze disc on her chest gleaming in the morning sun. The scripted bangles on her wrists and ankles she’d received from Li Renshu so long ago had seen serious upgrades and were now treasures equal to those wielded by anyone else present. Li Heng wore his typical robes. His defenses lay in his techniques, perhaps even more so than He Yu’s did. His jian awaited in his storage treasure, and that was all the armament he needed.
When they’d finally gathered, all eyes turned to He Yu. The weight of expectation pressed down on him, and he found he didn’t know what to say. So he went with his gut.
“Last chance to back out,” he said. That elicited mostly grave looks, but at least he earned some chuckles from Tan Zihao and Zhang Lifen. When nobody said they were leaving this madness, he cleared his throat and continued. “Okay. So. We’re going up against an unfathomably ancient and powerful cultivator with little more than a plan built on hope. Thanks for coming, and great fortune to us all.”
Zhang Lifen arched an eyebrow at him and flashed an amused smile. To He Yu’s surprise, it was Ren Huang who broke the decidedly awkward silence that had fallen over the courtyard after He Yu had finished.
“Not much one for speeches, are you?” the burly former core disciple said in his characteristic rumble. “Never liked listening to them, anyway.”
With that the mood broke, and He Yu allowed himself to relax. Li Renshu called for his alchemists to bring out the medicinal pills and elixirs they’d been working on since the plan had first been hatched. None of them would have the time to properly restore themselves once they left, so they would have to rely solely on medicines. So Li Renshu had his refiners craft pills specifically for each of their cultivation bases, and to allow them to take more than typical without risking backlash. These pills would be critical in allowing for an extended battle like the one they were headed into. They’d also serve to bolster their own individual stockpiles, something none present would turn down lightly.
Yan Shirong then handed out the messenger constructs he’d created and instructed everyone on their use. They simply had to speak a message to the construct and then activate the formation script in it. The construct would fly to its intended recipient, then speak the message. Whoever the message was delivered to could then easily send back a reply. While they’d have the chance to confer before the actual fight was joined, once the chaos of battle took over, this would be their only means of easy coordination.
With their preparations as complete as they’d ever be, they set off to the east.
He Yu, Chen Fei, and Li Heng went first. Chen Fei sat atop her bronze disk, and Li Heng stood on a flying sword. Each rose into the air on their treasures, and soared off alongside He Yu. Carried by the Sky Dragon’s Flight, he gave himself over to the feeling of simple freedom he’d so come to cherish granted by using the technique. It might be the last time for a long time that he’d have the chance for such small joys.
Tan Zihao and Li Renshu followed behind, along with the former core disciples. Their distance needed to be carefully managed. Not so close as to provoke an attack from Jin Xifeng, but not too far that they couldn’t start culling her followers before He Yu and the others were obliterated.
In the rear was the army, led by Tan Xiaoling. While she’d bristled at the assignment at first, claiming she’d be more useful in the city, her father had eventually convinced her of the importance of her role. Perhaps more importantly, was the experience she’d gain, too. As much as her Dao drove her, she needed to temper some of the rougher parts of her nature and develop restraint if she wanted to rule one day, and Tan Zihao thought this would be a good opportunity for her to learn. He Yu wasn’t about to insert himself into that argument, but he was happy that she seemed to be content with her father’s reasoning. At least for the time being.
When they’d left Iron Gate City far enough behind them that the massive walls no longer broke the horizon, Li Heng turned to He Yu. “Nervous? Ready? Something else?” he asked. There was something of his old self in the words—a side of him that He Yu hadn’t properly seen since their days at the sect.
“Yes, no, and far too many to say.”
Opposite Li Heng, Chen Fei let out a laugh. “What are we even doing?” she asked. “What am I doing? Like, could you imagine the me that you met down in the sect town going along with something like this?”
He Yu flipped over onto his back and stared up into the cloudless sky above. “I don’t think any of us could have anticipated where we’d end up. Let alone end up here, of all places.”
“I don’t know,” Li Heng said. “I think I remember someone talking about wanting to be a hero of legend. This feels pretty in line with that, if you ask me.”
“The legend part, at least,” He Yu said. “As for heroes? I guess we’ll find out once it’s all said and done.”
“You really did spend forty years inside that tomb, didn’t you?” Li Heng asked with a grin.
“And I felt every second of it. Let me tell you, running an empire was awful.”
“So you wouldn’t do it again?” Chen Fei asked.
“He might not have much of a say in the matter, when all’s said and done,” Li Heng said.
“We can deal with that if the time comes,” He Yu said. “Until then, we still have to actually win. Or, you know, the alternative.”
It was one thing they’d all sort of circled around, but that nobody had truly given voice to. Realistically speaking, they were headed to their deaths. Jin Xifeng had once stood against the combined might of the empire itself and prevailed. She had stood against the elders of the Shrouded Peaks Sect when she was at her most vulnerable, and it hadn’t even been a contest. For a thousand years she’d been at the peak of Divine Soul Apotheosis, and was likely half a step into the Ninth Realm already. The three of them were new to the Eighth Realm, and only in the early stages. Their plan was by no means a certain thing—just a hunch that He Yu had come up with based on what was, admittedly, a cryptic proclamation given by the fading spirit of a man he’d hardly known.
They’d staked an awful lot on not very much at all. Legendary? Almost certainly. Heroic? More like absurdly foolish. If absolutely everything went according to plan, they might have a chance.
About half way to Jiankang, something went wrong.
A familiar presence exploded into He Yu’s spiritual perception. Shadow and blood coursed over rusted and pitted blades that lined the walls of a bottomless pit. Hunger and want radiated from the pit in equal measure, and the sickening feeling of it all was infused with the sharp chill of killing intent. The presence rushed toward them at mind-numbing speed. He Yu had hoped they wouldn’t run into Long Tingguang again. At least, not until they reached the capital and could bring all their strength to bear against him. It seemed they weren't so lucky.
He Yu spoke into his messenger construct. “Long Tingguang comes. Stay back. I don’t know if he’s sensed the rest of you, but I don’t want to take any risks in case he hasn’t. Chen Fei, Li Heng and I will deal with him.” He sent a trickle of qi into the construct and released it back toward where the others would be following. The last thing he wanted was for Long Tingguang to sense them all coming, and then rush back to Jiankang to warn Jin Xifeng.
The bloody pit of shadow and blades arrived. He looked much the same as He Yu remembered. Immaculately dressed in his black robes, his hair held back in an ornate crown hairpin set with a ruby. Drawing to a halt atop his flying sword, Long Tingguang pressed his fist into a palm in salute. “I had hoped to find you once again, bearer of Cai Weizhe’s arts.”
“My name is He Yu,” he said. His guandao fell into his hand, and the storm gathered around him.
Chen Fei rose to a standing position atop her disk, and Li Heng called his ancestral jian.
Long Tingguang saluted again. “I am aware. But now that you’ve properly introduced yourself, allow me to deliver the same courtesy. You should know the name of the man who kills you. I am Long Tingguang, True Dragon of Empress Jin, and Grand Chancellor of the Twilight Empire. I will at last reclaim my honor, and all three of you will die today by my hand.” As he spoke, his own jian appeared in his hand. Shadows curled around the blade like mist, and killing intent hung heavy upon the world.
“I suppose there’s no further point in discussion, then,” He Yu said, the pillars of the Empyrean Ninefold Body tempering rising around him, as the storm spread out from the infinite stair. A mountain topped by a single shining star rose to the heavens on one side of him, and endless winter gripped to world on the other.
“There is not,” Long Tingguang said. “You will die here, today. Empress Jin will be bothered no further.”
His confidence was easy to justify. He was firmly in the late stage of Divine Soul Apotheosis.
But there were three of them, and one of him. He Yu knew that all of them had always been strong for their advancement. They’d faced worse odds before in his estimation, and they’d face worse still.
Calling down the fury of heaven, He Yu charged with Chen Fei and Li Heng a heartbeat behind.
