by Derek Dorris
Situated west of Liu and occupying a twentieth of the area, the Qui kingdom was led by a general king of near mythical renown. By now, King Rui’In had amassed a seemingly invincible army which had shaken the Liu Empire for three straight years. The problem of course was the Jianghu—the vast river and lakelands of the Liu central plains. Politically fragmented though it may be, it possessed an abundance of highly skilled, equally proud warriors who had been hardened by a lifetime of skirmishes. Every time the Qui attempted to invade the central plains, its generals were found slain in their tents or were assassinated on the battlefields, their numerical superiority whittled down to mere numbers drawn in the sand. After dominating all other rivals, Rui’In now turned his full attention to the Jianghu and had taken command personally. His approach to battle was far more meticulous than any of his generals’—far more indirect too. Rui’In would spend months, even years, manipulating all the elements of his upcoming conflicts so that the desired outcome would simply unfold.
The central plains were no different. He knew in advance the previous invasions led by his generals would fail. He merely wanted to study the Liu’s reactions. And while the world assumed he was continuously underestimating the Jianghu, only three people including himself knew this was all part of a decade long action. That those lost generals and failed invasions were part of a side-winding plan to take the central plains at a later stage.
That Wangchuk Drup was one of those three people was remarkable because he had never even met Rui’In. Yet, here he stood, ready and waiting to play a key role in leading him to glory. As he peered out over the desert plains, the morning chill nudged already stirring memories further into mind. Clearer and clearer, he relived the rage and humiliation of that morning on Earthly Mountain. That bastard monk, dressed in gold, had turned his back on him so contemptuously, leaving him there to freeze while his pressure points slowly reopened. He swore all manner of revenge but against the knowledge that he didn't have the power to exact it, he just became angrier. Tears welled in the corners of his eyes for the first time in his life; defeat occupied the corners of his mind. It was his lowest point. And then—he met the person who would change everything: the person who had orchestrated the very event that brought him to that cliffside in the first place—someone who bristled with as much power as he did malice—the Divine Alchemist, Yu Guo Wei.
After etching the message in the cliff wall months earlier, the infamous hunchback had returned to Earthly Mountain to observe the monks who nobody had heard of in decades from the secret vantage point of a nearby peak. The ability of Earthly Dragon masters was still the unknown quantity in Wulin. He had investigated the possibility of toppling them from their perch forty years earlier but was discouraged by their level of skill. He spent the intervening decades training his own skills to divine levels and after making a powerful new ally in the King of Qui, he felt it was time to test them again.
Once more, Yu Guo Wei wanted to know how big a problem the Earthly Guardians were going to pose before he acted. As such, he enticed hopeful apprentices from all over the martial world to come and display their quality. He knew precious few would make it across the three gorges but those who did would be of sufficient ability to tease out the Earthly Dragon’s best fighters. And thus, he simply observed as Wangchuk Drup compared his skills with the golden robed monk. A new plan began to formulate—one that would revolve around this giant Yarlese.
Descending the cliff like an apparition, he landed almost silently, his tiny frame hunched over the incapacitated Yarlese. “You've been thoroughly ridiculed by those self righteous ascetics,” he croaked, his voice as disgusting as his appearance not to mention his odour which was a disturbing mix of chemicals and dried body sweat. His tone then turned to one of mocking. “I see you've tried to follow a similar path yourself. One of orthodox discipline, following someone else's ‘way’. And where has that got you? Lying prostrate on this rotten cliff?” With a swift movement of his foot, the smelly alchemist unsealed every one of the pressure points the Artless Monk had sealed earlier.
Wangchuk Drup leapt to his feet, brimming with aggression but just about restrained. Yu Guo Wei laughed scornfully and extended his right index finger to press a single point on the Yarlese’s chest. An explosion of pain sent the big man buckling to his knees.
“Ha-ha, good boy. If you ask me, I will take you on and teach you everything I know. In time, your vengeance against these monks will be guaranteed.”
Wangchuk Drup looked up slightly and saw a man of unbelievable power—power that utterly dwarfed what he had experienced from the Artless Monk. He was old, filthy, and not physically imposing. Yet his eyes were like dark slate, hard, uncompromising, and unforgiving. To the Yarlese, he was fearsome.
Though he was already in his thirties and had established himself both as a learned monk and martial master back in the Yarlese Valley, Wangchuk Drup was nonetheless willing to turn his back on that life if it meant he could expand his learning. Up until now, he believed he could only do that on Earthly Mountain. He would have to swallow his contempt for their righteous ways and live a life of deceit in order to remain under their tutelage but he was sure he could do that for as long as was needed to learn their secrets. But they had seen through him immediately and subdued him in humiliating fashion. Now, here was an even more attractive alternative and it came in the form of an ugly hunchback. An ugly hunchback that was as unscrupulous and vicious as he was.
Suddenly Wangchuk Drup’s long dark hair was caught by the wind and he was back in the present with yet another reminder of the life he had turned his back on. As he stood waiting for Rui’In’s army to appear in the distance, He finally allowed himself a smile. The time had come to render his name immortal. The time had come to shake the Jianghu.
* * *
The first pebbles of sand were kicked up by the horse of an advance scout who announced the imminent arrival of the Qui army. Wangchuk Drup went out to greet him with all deference despite his seniority. “A small price to pay,” he would whisper to himself at times like this. The scout embarrassed by the unexpected courtesy, dismounted and bowed lower before remounting and returning with news of the preparations. Wangchuk Drup’s men had arranged the enormous camp in exacting manner. The logistics of war were all laid out, ready to be churned into action at a moment's notice. The Yarlese, now ranked as a general in the Qui army, returned to his tent to await the vanguard’s arrival. He sat cross legged and began to meditate in a manner only he has ever done. A sinister blending of orthodox and Yarlese martial breathing that would deepen the wells of the body and sharpen his senses to a terrifying degree. After a while, he felt the tented enclosure pulsing in and out with his body and he was ready. He stood up slowly, exhaled and exited the tent just as the first horns began to blow.
* * *
The vanguard alone seemed endless and unsurprisingly it was led by the fearless Rui’In. The general king was of medium height but sturdy build. He rode a gigantic volatile looking black steed effortlessly as if he was born on horseback. A tapestry of scars ran up and down his face and a patchy beard grew from whatever area of his lower face had been left undamaged from the spears and fires of war. As he neared the centre of camp, where the stationed troops and porters were waiting in neat units, Wangchuk Drup noticed his eyes glistening fiercely but not in the manner of a martial master. This man didn’t possess those kinds of skills. His talents were born of the broadest of minds and it made him even more formidable. Wangchuk Drup would be a fool not to let a slight chill creep down his spine.
Flanking their general king were a group of eight warriors with tall frames and dark complexions. All eight were dressed identically, in red hooded robes which covered every part of their bodies with the exception of their upper faces and hands. Wangchuk Drup had never seen anyone like them and guessed they hailed from the Northwest Territories beyond the Qui kingdom. All he knew of them was their name, the “Eight Knives”, and that they were Rui’In’s pe
rsonal bodyguard. Behind the Eight Knives rode a tiny hunchback on a horse. He smelled worse than his horse but nobody dared to complain not even Rui’In. The Qui soldiers were terrified of him because he was said to be a sorcerer—a man who could combine the elements to create foul concoctions of poison and corrosive destruction; concoctions which he would wield at the slightest provocation. He was also a man of godlike martial ability.
Wangchuk Drup saw his master ride into view and a disgusted feeling washed over him. He loathed the smelly little man yet stood in awe of his abilities. At least he did up until recently, when he secretly discovered that his master was suffering from an ailment that would eventually curb his power. Moreover, Wangchuk Drup had recently taken a gigantic step forward in his own training that saw his strength double. He felt the time had finally come to extinguish his master and take his place at Rui’In’s side. He had no desire for imperial prestige and would be happy to serve an all powerful king so long as he was recognised as the Mount Tai of the martial world. And an all powerful king’s decree would make it official. Reputation was after all flimsy. Official recognition determined the prevailing wisdom across the land and with it, the history of things written.
The first of the riders began to dismount as Rui’In rode on towards Wangchuk Drup. To the Yarlese’s surprise, the king dismounted and greeted him with a warm smile, embracing him like they were old friends. “I’ve heard so much about you,” Rui’In boomed heartily. “Your master is most proud. Looking at you, I can immediately see why.”
Wangchuk Drup felt awkward with any physical contact that wasn’t combative in nature but remained unfazed on the outside. “You honour me too much, your Excellency. How can I continue to serve you?”
Rui’In circled the Yarlese while surveying the preparations. “For now, I couldn’t ask for anything more than you’ve already done. Come; let us drink a toast together.” Raising his arm to the short alchemist on his horse, he continued. “I’m sure you are eager to catch up with your master too. Yu Guo Wei, please join us.”
Wangchuk Drup turned to his master for the first time and cupped his fist in respect. “It is good to see you again Shifu.”
“Good boy, well done on your preparations,” the short man croaked as he jumped nimbly off the horse. Not inclined to waste time, he cut straight to business. Patting the much taller man on the lower back, he leaned close and whispered upwards. “Your great task waits. I’m sure you will enjoy it.”
Wangchuk Drup knew already what this task was to be. “I’ve been waiting ten years, Shifu. I assure you, I will. More to the point, I won’t let you down.”
“I know you won’t my boy. After all, you are my legacy.”
The smelly alchemist entered the command tent and sat down scratching his head and body as he was accustomed to doing. He observed his apprentice with keen eyes and noted immediately his tremendous internal advancements since their last encounter. More lithe than ever and rippling with power. What's more, his breathing was deep and unflappable. He has learned my art diligently but with a cool intelligence I didn’t foresee, he thought. I tell him he will continue my school after I’m gone; I see now he thinks he has already grown beyond it. Lucky for me, I never once intended to shuffle off this world before he did. I’ll outlast them all and this apprentice of mine will help me solve the last piece to my puzzle—before I crush him. What sickness can fell me? Certainly not the one I let him get wind of. And that which I am suffering from will only make me more powerful once I find the right balance of herbs and chemicals. No my large disciple, you are going to be used up completely for my own ends. Yu Guo Wei laughed these words to himself just as Rui’In, who had taken the place of honour in the middle of the tent, raised his cup to both master and student.
After he toasted them both a long life and further praised them for their meritorious service, the leader of the Qui kingdom dismissed the servants and leaned closer to the two men. “The four outlying cities will be attacked first and at the same time. In a month, I want my forces to ride out from each of those cities and cast a web across the entire western border. But, firstly, you two need to prepare those cities. How many masters do you foresee yourself having to deal with my friend?”
“Five in Jiangsun, three in Tangjui. I’ll dispatch them myself,” the Divine Alchemist reported. “There are four spread between Liajkaij and Gongsom so it's difficult to predict who we'll find where. My apprentice here will take care of them.”
Numerically speaking, Wangchuk Drup knew that Yu Guo Wei had given himself the most dangerous task but, in reality, the fighters he would have to eliminate were far stronger. But, as usual, he feigned ignorance of his master’s hidden agendas and just nodded his assertion.
“Good,” Rui’In said boisterously. “But take no chances.” The king glanced at The Divine Alchemist and then at his disciple. “Wangchuk Drup, I hear you've summoned your comrades from the marshlands. That's good. Bring them with you.”
Wangchuk Drup blanched. He spent the last few months rounding up able fighters who could act as a secret buffer against whatever plans his master was concocting. He told nobody and had them sequestered miles away in some wet grasslands to the east. To hear Rui’In casually mention them was not only shocking, indicating the extent of his intelligence network, but it greatly disturbed him that his master now also knew of his guardedness. The corner of his eye flickered towards Yu Guo Wei who remained unmoved at the news so he quelled the rising frustration within him. If he knows, he knows, he resigned to himself. It's not unusual to do what I did, however unusual it might be that I didn't tell him. Somehow I'll explain it away to him.
But Yu Guo Wei was way ahead of his apprentice. He knew who and how many warriors Wangchuk Drup had recruited and exactly how he would deploy them.
As the two men cycled through this turn of events, the Qui king chuckled inwardly. These two are so concerned with one another; they're leaving themselves utterly unguarded against the most dangerous man here. Casting his memory back to his childhood, he considered the endless hardships he had to tolerate and survive. He worked his way from slavehood to military service to ruler of a nation in only fifteen years. In both skill and character building, he was certain to the point of bitterness that his apprenticeship vastly outweighed those of the so-called martial experts. To him, such people were mere tools. Keys to be placed in particular locks and either discarded when used or hung on his belt for later use. He was a true warrior; one who could bend the will of nations to his own.
Bringing himself back to his current surroundings, he asked himself, as he had many times before, which of these two keys will be the more useful to me in the long term? Wangchuk Drup is the younger but he's so petty and entirely consumed by his own intelligence. He also has plenty of years left to outshine this dirty chemist and if Yu Guo Wei really has passed on all his knowledge to his apprentice then he might become very difficult to control. However, for the moment at least, the Yarlese has no eyes for the wider game whereas that smelly hunchback is far too ambitious not to mention perceptive. That said, his apprentice’s recent improvements have him genuinely spooked and that should keep him preoccupied for the short to midterm. It seems, therefore, they are both equally useful to me right now. Ha-ha! Having gone over all the pieces one more time, the Qui king allowed himself another inward smile.
The servants were recalled and the three men chatted late into the night, smiling frequently to each other, more often to themselves.
Gongsum
At the west gate of the walled city of Gongsum, the night guard stood leisurely at his post enjoying the summer breeze and thinking about nothing in particular; certainly not the itinerant peddler who had just exited the gate at a time of night when most were asleep. Not even the whistle of a projectile could snap the guard out of his daydream for, with the exception of a slightly upset stomach, he had a very relaxing evening.
The sound of a second projectile being embedded into the wooden post behind him did catch hi
s attention. As his arms flinched to protect his head, his long handled spear dropped, hitting the ground with a thud. Crouching to retrieve his weapon, another projectile whistled over his head and it was quickly becoming apparent that his ineptitude was now saving his life. But the fright of that realisation caused him to drop his spear again. He had enough. Leaving the spear behind, he sprinted in the direction of the peddler thinking the last projectile, like the first two, had come from the other direction.
In actuality, the third projectile actually had come from the peddler who wished to deprive his pursuer of any helpers. When he saw the guard running for him, the peddler drew a short blade which he proceeded to plunge into the guard’s stomach. The knife was aimed perfectly under the navel but unfortunately for him, the guard was more than a little overweight and had recently taken to wearing a rather large iron buckle to keep up his trousers. As the knife deflected off the buckle, the peddler cursed himself for underestimating the guard who he had previously dismissed as a halfwit. Who would have thought he’d be wearing armour underneath his uniform? he was in the middle of asking himself this when the onrushing guard opened his mouth and emptied the contents of his stomach onto the peddler’s horrified face.
The sight of the blade and the repeated hair-line escapes had taken their toll on the guard’s dodgy tummy and the added gastric juices made for a surprisingly effective incapacitant as it hit the peddler’s eyes. The peddler rolled backwards with stinging pain and despite the emergent situation, he couldn’t repress his own urge to vomit. “Ghastly bastard!” the peddler muttered as he spat.