by Mark Swaine
“You honour me with your kind words, but you will not find a better General than the one already under your command,” replies Liu Chan.
“Indeed,” says the Emperor in agreement. “The General has informed me you have developed a new form of Wushu,” says the Emperor.
“Yes my Emperor, ‘tis in its most early stages, but my men are learning quickly,” replies Liu Chan.
“What is the brand of this new technique?” asks the Emperor.
“We have so named it... the Fu (Fortune) technique,” says Liu Chan.
“Perhaps you would allow me a brief demonstration,” says the Emperor.
“Chaoxiang, front and centre!” bellows Liu Chan stepping aside.
A middle-aged soldier steps out of formation and walks to the centre of the walkway. The armoured soldier warms up with a series of kicks and thrusts before performing a combination of aerial kicks. Exhaling deeply and breathing through his nose, his face is one of solid concentration as his right hand and left foot begin to smoke and flame. The soldier performs a spinning mid-air roundhouse kick and red and green fireballs escape his blue flaming foot in whistling and crackling explosions.
The soldier lands perfectly to the ground and draws back his fists before thrusting them forward in a rapid succession of flaming punches. The soldier then bows to Liu Chan, and then the Emperor before falling back in line.
“Well done. I look forward to the perfection of this “Fu” technique,” says the Emperor.
“Thank you my friend,” says Liu Chan.
“You are training them personally?” asks the Emperor.
“Myself and the General,” says Liu Chan,
“General, you did not inform me you have accomplished the Dragon Foot technique. I commend you,” says the Emperor sincerely.
“I had a good instructor,” replies the General.
“The technique is impressive, Colonel Chan. However, conjuring magic is effortless when measured against absorbing a powerful oncoming attack. Can you shield yourself or counter strike against Black Magic, magic potentially stronger than your own?” asks the Emperor.
“Of course,” scoffs Liu Chan brashly. “I took down one of your Ministers using a counter strike not a few years past,” he adds cockily.
“I know, I witnessed the whole event, and I tell you now the magic conjured by High Minister Wei Shi would have caused nothing more than a mild sunburn,” says the Emperor.
“How am I to overcome this obstacle? I have never faced a Necromancer or dark wizard. I know of no man who can assist me in countering Black Magic, other than the Samurai, and you have always forbid this practice,” replies Liu Chan.
“During the attack of the undead, you observed calm under duress, acted accordingly, and fought bravely. For your efforts, you are to be commended, and rewarded,” says the Emperor.
“I need no reward Master Yu-Huang, I was merely carrying out my duties,” replies Liu Chan.
General Arachie smiles at the soldier's display of humility, and it was enriching to see him finally growing up. General Arachie now realises that it was he who'd been holding him back all these years, for the boy revels in the prospect of a fresh challenge. Emperor Yu-Huang gestures Liu Chan forward, and the soldier stops at his feet and bows as his Emperor hands him a sealed scroll.
“You are ready,” says Yu-Huang confidently.
“Ready for what my Master?” asks Liu Chan.
“In this scroll you will discover many spells deemed too dangerous for an amateur. You are ready for advanced magic; you will find many spells containing elements of darkness, and Black Magic. If you are able to hone this level of magic, you will possess the ability to defeat the most powerful of Necromancers. Everything you need to perfect your technique resides in this scroll,” says the Emperor.
“You grant me much power Master Yu-Huang. I will use it well,” replies Liu Chan in awe of the scroll in his hands.
“I know you will, ‘tis why I have passed it onto you,” says Yu-Huang with a quaint smile.
Liu Chan rejoins his unit before bowing to the Emperor and his Uncle, General Arachie.
“Shaozu Zhu, Major of the 2nd West Wall Battalion, step forth,” says the Emperor.
Shaozu steps out of formation, and with a slight limp on his metal leg, each step creates a loud clunk on the solid floor. In his walk he sees Akio nodding graciously and Shaozu tilts his head respectfully. Shaozu approaches the steps and bows on his metal knee and the Emperor commands him to rise. Yu-Huang frowns a little at Shaozu's unshaven and long haired appearance. Tattoos of dragons climb his neck, daggers mounted across his chest, a black bandana across his forehead, and fragments of assassin leather branded onto his Jade armour. But at least his manner is consistent, thinks Yu-Huang.
“Major Shaozu, in the face of death, outnumbered by undead beasts, you displayed great courage and loyalty to your brothers in arms, Jade soldier, Onna-Bugeisha and Samurai alike,” says the Emperor.
“You honour me my Emperor, but ultimately it was Yeman Ren who conquered our enemies, and too rescued myself and the Samurai Akio from a certain death. Twice, Yeman Ren saved my life,” says Shaozu bowing to Yu-Huang and his giant bodyguard.
“Major Shaozu I am promoting you to Captain, though your responsibilities yet remain on your current task,” says Yu-Huang.
“You honour me my master,” replies Shaozu.
“How goes the training?” asks Yu-Huang quietly.
“Like myself, those injured in the attack are incapable of aerial assault. Chika Minami and I are training them in alternative methods of Wushu, Bajutsu and Ninjitsu,” says Shaozu.
“Chika Minami, she is cooperating?” asks Yu-Huang.
“My beloved strives your highness,” says Shaozu.
“Your beloved?” says Yu-Huang, surprised.
“Yes my master, she is with child,” smiles Shaozu, “and yet, she does not falter, she is brave and strong,”
“I am overjoyed for the gift of life you are to be blessed with, I will pray to the Three Pure Ones for a well birth,” says Yu-Huang, nodding kindly.
Shaozu smiles and bows once again before rejoining his formation.
“Mǎkè Shīwěixián, step forth,” says Yu-Huang.
Mǎkè, now the centre of attention, looks around insecurely, hesitant to step into the walkway of watchful faces.
“That means you,” says Xiaojian.
“Maybe he is talking about a different Mǎkè. Mǎkè Shīwěixián is such a popular name in these parts,” says the nervous inventor.
“Mǎkè Shīwěixián, the greatest inventor in all the lands, where are you my friend,” says Yu-Huang specifically.
Xiaojian raises her eyebrows irately to signify the obvious and Mǎkè hesitantly steps out of the line before stepping back.
“What would I say?” asks Mǎkè fretfully.
“Whatever you say it cannot be any worse than Akio's speech regarding his limp tail,” says Xiaojian.
“Not so limp anymore,” says Akio smiling smugly at his raised Hakama.
“You are disgusting,” says Xiaojian after observing his bulge. “Mǎkè fear not, merely bow and express gratitude. Make us proud,” he adds whilst pushing him into the aisle.
“There he is,” says Yu-Huang with a broad smile. “Come forth,”
Mǎkè stops at the base of the steps and bows. Emperor Yu-Huang smiles and commands him to rise before gesturing him forward.
“Mǎkè, during the attack of the undead, you placed yourself in harm’s way as you fought alongside my soldiers to hold back the damned army of darkness,” says Yu-Huang respectfully.
“You honour me my friend. Emperor, I have given your offer much thought, I have decided to accept your request. I...”
“My friend, not here, we shall discuss this matter later,” says Yu-Huang leaning forward and speaking into his ear. “Mǎkè, for your efforts, I bestow upon you a gift,”
“What gift?” asks Mǎkè audaciously.
The Emperor
hands Mǎkè a large rolled parchment and the eccentric man opens it up before him.
“Unfortunately, ‘tis merely a concept, I will leave the craftsmanship to you,” says Yu-Huang modestly.
Mǎkè holds the large parchment at arms length whilst tilting it from side to side. With frowning eyes he observes every intricate detail of the detailed design and nods approvingly.
“It is a chair,” says Mǎkè.
“‘Tis no ordinary chair: follow the specifications to the letter and you will see for yourself,” replies Yu-Huang.
Mǎkè studies the design closer, admiring the stuffed leather cushions fixed to the arm rests and reclining back and leg rests. He looks at the pivot enabling it to spin in all directions, and finally a detailed function that allows a comfortable back massage.
“You honour me with this fine design, but why a chair?” asks Mǎkè much to the amusement of the audience.
“Mǎkè,” says the Emperor frowning with a smirk, “while I admire the level of dedication you place into your craft, ‘tis also vital to remember... to rest,” advises the Emperor.
“Why?” replies Mǎkè genuinely puzzled.
“Because rest is important,” replies Yu-Huang cheerfully. “You must take better care of yourself and learn to rest,” he continues.
“What do you call this fine chair?” asks Mǎkè.
“I would be honoured if you would name this invention,” replies Yu-Huang.
“This chair is fit for a king, an Emperor even. I will name it... the Throne,” says Mǎkè forming an imaginary title with his hands.
“A fine brand indeed,” says the Emperor concurring with the enthused man.
“You Emperor Yu-Huang, you will always be welcome in my home,” says Mǎkè as if he were addressing a normal man.
“The dragon flight: how was it?” asks Yu-Huang smiling.
“Amazing, enlightening. I have come to realise you are right about what you spoke of... regarding the dragon wings, especially after the second ride,” says Mǎkè.
“Second ride, she came back?” asks Yu-Huang curiously.
“Yes, every week,” replies Mǎkè.
“You are most fortunate, it appears you have formed a bond, most uncommon for a man of your age,” says Yu-Huang.
“I am most fortunate as late, riding the back of that beast for the first time as the sun set to my side, ‘twas the... second best moment of my entire life,” adds Mǎkè.
“What of your first may I ask?” asks the Emperor.
Mǎkè looks back at Xan Li and remembers the second kiss she'd given him before boarding the dragon in the undead-infested courtyard.
Yu-Huang smiles as he catches the short exchange, then conveys his gratitude once again and informs him they will speak again shortly.
“General Arachie,” says Yu-Huang.
General Arachie turns to face Yu-Huang, his face just as stone like and staid as ever.
“General, years of training have evidently been well spent. Your strategy and command during the attack of the undead was faultless. Your cooperation with the Samurai over the years has greatly contributed to making stronger the forces of the Huanghua territories. Your guardianship I trust with my life, I could not ask for a better commander of my great army,” says Yu-Huang, bowing.
“You honour me my Emperor,” says the General.
“‘Tis time I think, I began putting these Bonsai portals to better strategic use. I have blessed many seeds in preparation for your disposal, I know you will use them wisely,” says the Emperor handing the General a pouch of seeds.
General Arachie bows graciously then returns to his formal stance. A face in the crowd studies the General's stern face and delves inside his troubled thoughts. The General cannot understand why the Emperor has presented him with a bag of seeds; he had not the time or patience for these parlour tricks. The General's irritation isn't evident in his face, but the host inside Chung Denshi can sense a swirling pool of anger growing inside him.
“As I conclude this ceremony, I have but one more man to honour,” says Yu-Huang rising from his throne.
Emperor Yu-Huang approaches a wide marble pillar with an object wrapped in red silk resting atop it. Yu-Huang grips the handle below the silk and attempts to lift it, but finds he cannot. Kamui Li observes the Emperor's struggle to lift the long object, and the crowd’s concerned reaction to his sudden difficulty. Kamui Li subtly slides his Mengu faceplate in place from the inside of his helmet and recounts a spell in hushed whisper. The Emperor suddenly feels an external force aiding him in lifting the object and he discreetly nods to him in gratitude. Yu-Huang carries the object to Yeman Ren and holds it out before him Yeman Ren lowers to one knee and bows graciously before accepting the large, long gift. He looks curiously at the object as he removes the silk sheet, then his eyes widen in awe and amazement.
“The Hammer of Shí Róngyào (Stone Glory). I thought this destroyed,” says Yeman Ren quietly.
“I desired to, many times. But I could not, ‘tis too great a weapon to destroy, and now I return it to its rightful owner,” says Yu-Huang.
“This hammer has claimed the lives of many a human man, I promise you their spirits will guide its crushing blows down upon our enemies. I will swing this hammer so far into the Darkness it will bleed shadows,” growls Yeman Ren.
“Yeman Ren, my protector, never again will you be mistreated by my order of Jade soldiers, and I beg your forgiveness,” says Yu-Huang bowing with his eyes to the floor.
As Xiaojian watches the Emperor nobly ask of the troll’s forgiveness, she lets go of her hate. The hate her biological parents had trained her to horde for the Emperor, the hate her father Yeman Ren had sent her away from. Now she knows everything she had been taught to believe about Yu-Huang was truly a lie. Now she knows the people of the Huanghua territories speak the truth, now she knows the legends of his wisdom are undeniable, and he is every bit as noble as legend implies. In that moment Xiaojian pledges her allegiance to the Emperor whilst hailing him a true friend and somebody she can trust. The Emperor gestures to the aisle offering Yeman Ren room to get reacquainted with his old weapon. Both sides of the crowd cautiously back away as Yeman Ren clears the steps with a single ground rocking stride. Clasping the long handle of his hammer with both gauntlet clad hands, he squeezes the bands of crossed leather and twists a small moveable portion of bare iron. The handle suddenly clicks and a large spear ejects from the base. Smiling with nostalgia, Yeman Ren observes the sharp staggered point then spins the handle around to observe the huge diamond club sparkling bright. He looks deeper into the square block of crystal to see the faint silhouette of a large red curve. The massive troll twists the handle a second time and a large red dragon claw shoots out from a circular void on the side of the sparkling block. With his weapon doubled in size, Yeman Ren begins a series of wind rushing swings and twirling thrusts as he twirls the hammer-spear under and over his arms and neck. Jolting the hammer forward he twists the handle at the zenith of his shunt and the crystal club flies off its handle followed by a long chain. The dragon-clawed diamond swoops around the large space above the crowds of people until Yeman Ren tugs mightily whilst twisting the handle in reverse. The hammer end suddenly retracts back to the handle and Yeman Ren pants with glee, exhilarated to be reunited with his trusty weapon once again. The spear rushes back inside the cylindrical handle and the dragon claws recedes back inside the diamond with a loud snap, and Yu-Huang applauds the fine display. Yu-Huang's clap slows to a stop as Yeman Ren's belly grumbles loudly for the occupants of the hall to hear.
“Let us eat,” says Yu-Huang.
As the crowds take their places in the giant tall dining hall, Yu-Huang and his celebrated guests sit at a large raised table designed to accommodate trolls. The human guests climb ladders affixed to their tall seats as Yeman Ren sits cross legged at the head of the table. Servants on stilts arrive with platters of a strange looking food no one has ever seen before, and Xiaojian smiles heartily at Akio sa
t opposite her as she watches his eyes practically pop from their sockets. Akio recognises the smell immediately as he looks upon the seeded buns wedged with circular fried meat and slices of cheese. As the servant places a platter of ten cheeseburgers in front of him, he smiles knowingly at Xiaojian. The table guests look around at each other, for the normality of good company and the prospect of a full gut of food made them feel normal for a change. Only Yeman Ren feels like a fish out of water surrounded by these delicate beings and unfamiliar customs. The large troll wonders how he is to eat a full meal on a measly size human feast, and then out of nowhere a ten foot circular tray containing a giant cheeseburger wobbles to and fro toward him. As five servants manage to hold the tray up using poles, Yeman Ren holds his hands out ready to take it of their barely steady hands. Yeman Ren grabs the tray and places it in front of him just as Akio is about to take a hearty bite of his cheeseburger. Akio stalls and points at his idea of a dream burger with protest in his eyes.