by Mark Swaine
Yu-Huang smiles at the Royal Priest's offhand remark, and begins pondering on Chung Denshi's idea, as unintended as it was.
“Are you are having difficulty achieving your latest assignment General?” asks Yu-Huang.
“The art of magic possesess a learning curve I have yet to master my Emperor, ‘tis merely a matter of time,” replies the General.
Yu-Huang senses the truth of General Arachie's struggle to attain magical prowess, and after witnessing the cocky Cuju player's natural propensity for magic, he realises the teen might be the ideal person to train those amongst the ranks who are less able to channel their flow of Chi into magic. After all who better to train a soldier, than a soldier? Yu-Huang decides to test this theory on General Arachie, by having Liu Chan train him. He will bring this matter before him later, for he would not pleased, and not here, not now before the ears of the ranks.
“Selfish with the ball he was, forgot his team he did, egotistical he has become, this I will not tolerate,” says General Arachie, extremely displeased with his rebellious nephew.
The Emperor's attention is drawn to Liu Chan's look of disgruntlement as he sits on the side-lines, grumbling and cursing to himself. The benchwarmer watches on desperately with his team playing in honour and glory of their Emperor and General, and he feels begrudged at being treated so 'unfairly'. As the long game of Cuju comes to an end, North Dragon United bow humbly to the victors, West Wushu CC, before making their way off the pitch. Feeling let down and thwarted by their own team mate Liu Chan, they pass by him without so much as an upward glance. Liu Chan stays there, wishing not to mingle within the hostile environment in the changing rooms, even if it was him doing all the work out there he muses with a slight huff. He hails a vendor selling cones of 'Yùmǐ Bàozhà (Exploded Corn)' and sits eating with his feet up whilst clapping patronisingly at the opposing team celebrating their win as they jog off the pitch. The new recruits of Jade soldiers celebrate their Emperor's attendance and honour him with a perfect formation of martial arts, marking the end of the day’s games. As the ceremony comes to an end, the stadium clears and General Arachie escorts the Ministers out, leaving the Emperor alone as commanded. The Emperor remains seated as he ponders on Liu Chan's potential. The bright round moon casts a glow over the dead quiet empty stadium and torches along the wooden posted barriers dividing the tiered benches from the glory of the pitch blow gracefully in the last of the summer’s breeze. On the empty pitch under the peace of night, Liu Chan volleys a ball whilst contemplating everybody's problem with him. Flawlessly passing the ball from heel to head, head to toe and toe to knee, he considers his team's lack of understanding and the humiliation he'd suffered at the hands of the ref. Liu Chan boots the ball crossly, sending it ball hurtling away into a dark area of the pitch. A green robed man emerges from the shadow whilst volleying the runaway ball with a foot coated in a gentle flame of blue. Awestruck, Liu Chan drops to his knees, immediately identifying the stranger as the Emperor. Yu-Huang commands the soldier to rise and ignites the ball into flame before chipping it back to the awe struck fan.
“What is your name Jade Soldier?” asks Yu-Huang, making proper introductions.
“My name is Liu Chan, my Emperor, but my friends hail me as Lóng Jiǎo,” replies Liu Chan.
“Liu Chan, you are a Jade soldier, you above all else are aware of the consequences of the slightest misjudgement. As impressive as your abilities are, you might have injured somebody today, or worse,” says Yu-Huang.
“Forgive me my Master, I lost control,” says Liu Chan, volleying the blue-flamed ball to Liu Chan.
“Every so often, there is no shame in losing control, but I do not believe you lost control, otherwise the might of your Dragon Foot would surely have caused one or two fatalities. So, what troubled you today during the game?” asks Yu-Huang.
“Nothing troubled me; I know not the problem, I played well. I executed a perfect goal and yet I was disqualified, and I was humiliated in my attempts to win the game for my team, ” complains Liu Chan, passing the ball from foot to foot before passing it back to Yu-Huang with a forward knee.
“The goal was impressive, and the Flaming Dragon Foot, not an easy technique to master,” confesses Yu-Huang, complimenting the teen.
“My brothers in arms do not share your praise, ” replies Liu Chan, hiding a voice of indifference behind an open-handed solemn look of surprise. “They say that I no longer play as a team, that I am more interested in showing off,” says Liu Chan, laughing off the silly notion.
“General Arachie tells me you were once one of his best soldiers,” says Yu-Huang, offering some consolation.
Liu Chan manages a brief smile before it disappears.
“I shamed the General before your great audience; I am now nothing more than a burden in his eyes,” claims the soldier, clearly disappointed in himself.
“That is not true,” affirms Yu-Huang with a headshake, “he feels a great sense of responsibility for you. Tell me, when did these troubles arise? ” inquires Yu-Huang.
The Jade Soldier hesitates to confide in his Emperor, but does so knowing that his secret isn't the best well kept anyway.
“I was defeated by a young girl in a game of Cuju. She made me look a fool,” says Liu Chan kicking the ball to Yu-Huang much harder than he intends to.
“Only you, or your team?” asks Yu-Huang, heading the fireball back to Liu Chan.
“My team also, if they had played better we would not have looked so foolish,” replies Liu Chan.
“Loss of pride in your team and yourself you should not feel, but enlightened. This young girl taught you and your team the very essence of sportsmanship, did you commend her on a game well played just as you would expect?” asks Yu-Huang, casually.
Liu Chan feels ashamed as he realises that his pride had obstructed his recognition of the young girl's talents. Yu-Huang neither presses Liu Chan for an answer, nor does he push the subject.
“No, I did not,” says Liu Chan regretfully.
“Your brothers respect you Liu Chan, should you care to put aside your pride, they will see the much finer qualities you possess,” says Yu-Huang promisingly.
“I know not of what qualities you see wise and kind Master Yu-Huang,” says Liu Chan.
“I will tell you of the qualities you possess, should you allow me to share with you a spell I entrust amongst those I consider friends, and allies,” says Yu-Huang, stopping the ball under his foot.
Liu Chan nods sternly, honoured to be even considered of such worth to the Emperor.
“You possess proud heart, you are loyal to your kin, and my great rule. You are a master of magic yet you do not realise this. You possess the potential to become a great leader, yet assume yourself less than worthy in the eyes of others. Ultimately, Captain Chan of the 2nd Guard, you possess the ability to train your brothers in arms in the ways of magic, starting with General Arachie,” says Yu-Huang.
“Captain?” says Liu Chan stunned.
“Train the ranks in the art of magic, you would ask this of me,” asks Liu Chan still in disbelief, “what of Chung Denshi?”
“Chung Denshi will continue to teach those who are able to harness magic with ease. You will train those, like General Arachie, who are less susceptible to magic,” replies Yu-Huang.
“Consider this task accomplished,” says Liu Chan, affirmatively.
“Very good, Captain,” replies Yu-Huang chipping back the ball. “I will speak with General Arachie and arrange everything,” adds Yu-Huang.
Liu Chan smiles proudly as Yu-Huang refers to him as a friend, and the two sportsmen discuss Yu-Huang's strategy to enhance the battle tactics of the Jade army as they volley the fireball back and forth through the night. The sun creeps over the horizon of the distant jagged mountains to the West, casting the morning warmth over the two training men, both equally determined not to drop the ball.
“I must leave now to attend my post,” says Liu Chan, “clear now my mind is, I thank you for
your wise counsel, I will not fail in my new duties to the Jade army,” adds Liu Chan, bowing to his new friend.
The Jade Soldier gathers his belongings and leaves the stadium ready for duty. Liu Chan slows to a stop as he hears a deep distant chiming becoming louder.
“Those chimes hail from the Kunlun mountain range,” says Liu Chan, curiously.
“The gong of Dì Zhèn,” says Yu-Huang.
The two men look to the pale blue and bright orange horizon clothed out in specks of black, stretching across the full course of the sky above the distant mountain range, and heading directly towards the city. The Emperor watches the distant activity curiously, watching a large number of the black specks falling from the sky. Whatever those airborne creatures are, they are too many to bring down with ground mounted harpoons, trebuchets and catapults.
Liu Chan looks to the Emperor, hoping for an immediate answer as to what may be approaching. After all, he is the Emperor divine, capable of looking for miles on end with barely an upward glance. Liu Chan attempts to convey his thoughts to the Emperor, but is immediately quietened as he quickly raises a finger to his mouth commanding silence. Yu-Huang frowns as his weakened sense of sound tries to listen to something beyond the chiming of the Gong. The sound grows ever closer, and the second it becomes perceptible, Yu-Huang’s face changes to one of mortification as he looks in dismay at the sky. Eventually the sound grows close enough for Liu Chan to hear and he looks worriedly at the Emperor. Yu-Huang's horrified expression asks of Liu Chan for a thousand wishes that it not be true, begs his instincts are mistaken; that the distant oncoming sounds are not as he identified; that it be something else, something a lot more deserving. No, something deserving. His people do not deserve this, and there is nothing he can do to save them. Liu Chan quickly grabs a single explosive arrow from his quiver and ignites it before firing it far over the stadium. Shortly after the arrow explodes for all to see, General Arachie storms the pitch with one hundred soldiers and an anxious clingy entourage of petrified Ministers. Meanwhile, an entire kingdom of people stares upwards at the unnerving sight of darkness creeping over their faces, unable to flinch or break their gaze for even a second. The bright early morning is clouded by a shadowy mass of tattered wings passing below the sun. Hundreds of leathery ripped wings work hard to stay airborne, the missing dragons had finally returned, returned as giant rotting dragons, returned undead. The bell towers of the Huanghua territories suddenly toll a long dearth 'DONNNNNGGGGGGG' alerting all to find cover, or reach for their swords. The Emperor steps forward and watches hundreds of tiny litten spears stab the approaching cloud from below the mountain, and as the dark impaled specks drop from the sky, the faint roars battle cries of many a troll linger on the edges of mortal ears.
“Trolls,” observes the General.
“General, we must evacuate the Emperor,” says Liu Chan.
“No, we will hold our ground here. There is too much open land between us and the next outpost. The stadium walls will provide protection,” replies the General.
In the Kunlun Mountains surrounding the Ròu hé Gǔtou palace, armoured trolls climb rows of dragon spines-loaded turrets. The trolls line up the skeletal heads of their spinal speared rides before severing the lines of silk and one by one they're launched into the sky. The sharpened snouts impale the soft underbellies of the undead dragons releasing a stench of brown rotting intestines and coagulated blood. The trolls use the vertebrae as rungs as they climb the makeshift ladders to bring down their prey. The trolls rip the dragons apart in mid flight whilst tumbling in a twirling crash to the ground. The trolls, able to withstand long falls due to their dense bones and strong hide, pick themselves up and rush to finish of their flapping victims. Giant feet stamp through heads and crack the ground beneath, and large hands rip heads from necks in a flurry of fury. Trolls mounting other turrets ignite the hardened fuel glands inside the dragon heads and fire them at the sky. Massive explosions pound the sky bringing dragons dropping all around them in flaming wings. Many of the undead dragons hold riders just as formidable, and carnal as they. The army of the Darkness leap from the dragons, attacking the army of trolls.
“Grrr, Huhhh Frrrr-GGGGGrrr! (Oni! remember do not bite them!)” bellows King Kao Lu leading a charge.
The Oni, four-eyed ogres much bigger than trolls with hard red skin, blue nails and wild hair, smile widely with their curved teeth breaching the limits of their big mouths. Their sharp long nails curve around their kanabō clubs and their tiger skinned loin clothes swing wildly as they race forward on all fours. The breeds clash in a bout of swinging clubs, hammers, swords, fists and claws. The trolls are strong and brutish, but the Oni are feral and stronger than strong. The Oni have no difficulty in overcoming the trolls as they rip heads from muscular necks and chew through tough skin. But the trolls’ instinct for survival is stronger, and they are quick learners. King Kao Lu swings his club into the belly of an Oni and it vomits gutfuls of yellow blood before he leaps high and brings his club over the back its head. A familiar troll loses his club and is faced by a charging Oni twice as big as he and he suddenly recalls Emperor Yu-Huang's advice. The troll's face scrunches as he jumps into an upper body twist before bringing his leg into an outward swing. The troll times the kick perfectly and the Oni spins onto its neck as it slams onto the ground. The troll signals his sparring partner who thumps his chest in victory of his friend's perfectly executed kick and they both take turns in stamping on the downed creature's body. King Kao Lu seethes as he wrestles the Chief Oni to the ground, and the creature laughs at his feeble efforts to overcome him as he elbows the creature in its sixty ribs. Grappling in a dusty pit of flying blood, the Oni scratches and claws at Kao Lu's face and chest and Kao Lu's rage suddenly takes over as he grabs the red skinned beast around its neck. Tossing the creature over his shoulder he grabs its head with both hands before reversing it to face him with a loud scream. The aged creature continues laughing at the troll king and its backward body rises above Kao Lu before slashing at his stomach with lunging outward swings. Kao Lu screams with rage as he charges the huge beast and it pounces onto his chest with its half moon daggers digging into his shoulders. Kao Lu rolls backwards and forces the Oni to roll with him before mounting the bigger monster. Kao Lu unifies his fists into a single club and brings them down onto the laughing Oni. King Kao doesn't stop until he's pounding the rock beneath its squashed head and he snorts a heavy bout of steam as his bloody and scraped body rises to observe the carnage laden battleground
“Huhhh Trrrrrah-Guhhh (is that all of them?)” grunts the king.
“Jurrr (look),” says Yǒnghéng Jǐzhù, cleaning his club whilst tilting his head to the sky.
No longer can the sun be seen, but a mass of black roving high above the mountain peaks, just in reach of their aerial armoury.
“Ready the Pifu Linyu, by spiderback we will reach the Huanghua territories by next sunrise,” commands King Kao Lu.
“Noh, brugahhhh-dusha-grarrrr! (No, the humans will not recognise friend from foe),” says Commander Yǒnghéng Jǐzhù.
“Fruhgna-bushanaaa groh! (But the alliance),” shouts Kao Lu.
“Muuurrr-Jarrdurrr Hungun charrr (you have upheld your vow to the Emperor, the fate of the humans is in their hands now, we must do what we can from here),” replies Yǒnghéng Jǐzhù.
“Trutaarr-gunfu, commarrrr attaaa, Pifu Linyu guntaaar (continue the attack, Commander, release the Pifu Linyu),” replies King Kao Lu.
Back in the stadium Yu-Huang looks worriedly at the peak of the Tower of Guang and his eyes suddenly emit a bright light as he accesses the life support system of the Dragon egg chamber. The Jade soldiers and Ministers step back as the Emperor is surround by a virtual readout of flashing panels and shifting gauges of light. Yu-Huang activates the security protocol in the Tower of Guang and hurriedly discards the heads up display whilst intently watching the tower. Yu-Huang prays the safeguards work for he had never used them before; he had never needed to until now. S
uddenly a loud rumbling emits from the tower's zenith as vents suck in the disguising Yún Zhùfú’ (Blessed Cloud). A silvery liquid escapes the rectangular side vents and solidifies into shifting plates to form a triangular structure over the tower’speak where the Dragon egg chamber resides. The sides of the tower begin to shake and the brickwork and tiles shake loose to reveal its true form, a metallic tower formed of embedded hexagons. The outlines of the hexagons begin writhing with a yellow, blue and red plasmid as black spires protrude forth from the hexagons. The black spires absorb the steaming multicoloured energy and begin humming as if powering up, preparing. Elsewhere, a young man wearing armour of leather and rat pelt, trains steadily with twenty jade soldiers on a blustery hillside. Wenyi tries his hardest to keep up with the endless combinations of slow motion sword manoeuvres and step by step instructions and commands. The trainer, Major Fu nods to Wenyi, informing him of an oncoming simulated attack. Twangs of metal clang in all directions as he deflects the sword strikes from the circle of soldiers. Suddenly a crane lands into a nearby nest and a soldier races to collect the message attached to its long leg. The soldier races back to the soldiers all waiting with bated breath.