Chapter Thirty-Five: Slaying the Immortal, Executing the Monarch (Part II)

On the seventh day of the second lunar month in the second year of the Tianqi era, Guiyang City was besieged by one hundred thousand troops personally led by An Bangyan of Shuixi and Song Wanhua of Shudong. The siege lasted for ten months.

As the days dragged on, the vulnerabilities of being a lone, besieged city began to emerge.

By the fifth month, incidents of rice looting broke out in Guiyang. From the beginning of the sixth month, supplies were rationed and reduced. In the seventh month, the official granaries ran dry, and the city was only sustained for another two months thanks to the grain donated by local gentry in the sixth month.

After the grain was exhausted in the ninth month, cannibalism began within the city walls—first the corpses, then the living. There were even instances of "relatives devouring one another." A daughter of the Administration Commissioner, Pan Runmin, was also consumed by others. Foot traffic in the city dwindled, and fires started by those cooking human flesh spread unchecked, as most houses were abandoned and no one remained to fight the flames.

After the eleventh day of the eleventh month, the entire city lay at death's door. The various government offices were virtually unmanned, and the military and civil authorities of Guiyang existed in name only.

...

In Yun Zheng’s mental world, countless voices echoed from all directions, a surging tide of memories:

"Magistrate Zhou, as long as the green hills remain, there will be firewood to burn. Since the Shuixi rebels have agreed to let some of the starving civilians leave the city, you could slip out among them and plan for the future."

"My young friend Yun Zheng, do not try to persuade me further. I am but a weak scholar, a useless man in these chaotic times, so why should I cling to life? Furthermore, I am the parent-official of this county; how could I abandon my people and flee?"

"But there is no food left in Guiyang! Magistrate Zhou, since I arrived in this world, your family is the only one that has treated me with kindness. Congzhe is dead, and I cannot bear to watch my last remaining kin pass away!"

Zhou Congzhe was the only son of Magistrate Zhou and Yun Zheng’s first friend in this world.

A month ago, spies for the Shuixi rebels set fire to Guiyang’s grain stores. Zhou Congzhe and other students from the academy disregarded their own safety to fight the flames and were ultimately swallowed by the inferno.

"Yun Zheng, perhaps the world you speak of, where everyone is like a dragon, will one day come to be. I, too, wish to live to witness the birth of that world. But Guiyang has already turned into a living hell, where humanity is extinguished and cannibalism is commonplace."

"When the corpses were finished, they began to eat the living. Those starving soldiers openly slaughtered civilians in the market, not only eating them themselves but selling human flesh for a tael of silver per catty."

"I am a useless man, fit only to die for the army. Yet, I selfishly hope that you can survive. No matter the cost, I know you have the ability."

...

"Brother Yun, I truly do not want to die! I want to see the world you described. Why is it that after surviving the hell of the Guiyang siege, I must die here?" Yun Da’s youthful face was twisted in agony; his features seemed torn by an invisible force. His eyes were wide, his lips pressed into a line of suffering, and the beads of sweat on his forehead joined his grimace to tell of an indescribable, ultimate torment.

Yun Da was one of the last two hundred souls remaining from the hundred thousand soldiers and civilians trapped in Guiyang, and the only one of Yun Zheng’s friends from the city who had managed to leave alive.

After leaving Guiyang, he joined the military with Yun Zheng, charging into battle by his side. The murderous aura that both men carried, having crawled out from mountains of corpses and seas of blood, often chilled the hearts of enemies a generation their senior.

But now, his body was bristling with arrows. This friend, who had followed him in silence, trusted him implicitly, and was willing to brave any danger by his side, was about to lose the last flicker of life.

It was only at this moment, seeing the helplessness and bewilderment in Yun Da’s eyes, that one could remember he was but a youth nearing his fifteenth birthday.

On his deathbed, a voice echoed in Yun Zheng’s mind: "Brother Yun, I think I’ll call myself Yun Da from now on. Don’t look down on such a simple name; one day you will have more and more followers, and when that time comes, I’ll be their leader!"

...

"Brother Yun, let me go. Even if this wretched life of mine could be saved, I would only be a cripple. I admit I underestimated you before, but you shouldn't underestimate me, thinking that we, the Yi people, are afraid of death."

"Come to think of it, if my younger brother were still alive, he would be about your age. His name was Fangshu. In my hometown, there should still be many who know where he is buried. If you can find my corpse on the battlefield afterward, bury me beside him."

...

"So, you were a spy for the Ming Dynasty all along. It was a waste of my time to intercede for you so many times before the Magistrate."

"Haha, friend? You let the Ming imperial army into the city, and you still want to be my friend? I am not worthy of a friend as clever, brave, and promising as you."

...

Yun Zheng pressed his lips together, the corners of his mouth dipping slightly, his breathing growing heavy.

The cries of countless fallen comrades resounded in his ears, and the regrets of the dead coiled around his heart like ropes.

Their dreams seemed to condense into an emerald fairyland—a Vinland, an Eden, a Peach Blossom Spring, or the Three Mountains of Penglai.

In truth, their dreams could be realized if only there were peace under heaven.

Yun Zheng did not intend to flee like the alchemist Xu Fu, the ancient Qin people who hid in the Peach Blossom Spring, or Mr. Thorfinn, the Dane who explored Vinland.

Therefore, he could only use his blade to slaughter all the ambitious men to answer for the regrets left behind by his comrades.

The Long Star hangs in the southeast, and the warrior wipes his precious blade.

Yun Zheng pulled out a strip of satin, as red as blood, to wipe the edge of the Seven-Star Blade. The blade gleamed brilliantly, forming the pattern of the Big Dipper, and within its light, the ghostly images of countless warriors charging through blood and fire faintly emerged.

The iron crutch was tossed aside by Duan Zhengyan as if it were worthless trash.

Some cast away their swords as if they were nothing; others remained true for a lifetime. But to Duan Zhengyan, the only thing a descendant of the Duan clan must remain true to for a lifetime was the "Emperor’s Dragon-Transforming Sword," forged from one's own life force.

The Buddha said, "In heaven and on earth, I alone am the honored one." This "Emperor’s Dragon-Transforming Sword" was the manifestation of the Emperor’s own consciousness.

Nine vast streams of dragon aura gathered from the dantian and the wheel-sea of Chen Yuchong’s body, surging up along the spine—the Great Dragon—to the Purple Palace of the Immortal Platform. They roared out through the seven apertures, condensing from void to reality into a golden sword entwined with nine dragons, held firmly in Chen Yuchong’s right palm.

With a sharp whistle, the marble floor beneath Yun Zheng’s feet was blasted into a small crater.

But Yun Zheng shifted like a phantom, leaving only an afterimage behind. Appearing in another position, he continued to wipe his blade as if strolling through a garden, though the murderous aura on the edge grew ever more dense.

When two meet on a narrow path, the brave one prevails. In a duel between masters, one relies not only on cultivation but even more on momentum.

Before engaging in close-quarters combat, Duan Zhengyan struck first with the "Thousand-Autumn Mountain and River Finger," a technique that fires true energy from the meridians of the ten fingers. While its range was not as great as a firearm, it was far more flexible and harder to guard against than ordinary hidden weapons.

The goal of this strike was not to wound Yun Zheng, but to shatter his momentum before the battle truly began and strip him of the initiative.

Though Duan Zhengyan had dominated his era in life, his physical body had long decayed, lacking the supreme yang energy of the living. And the body of Chen Yuchong had already suffered a crushing defeat at Yun Zheng’s hands, its momentum already dampened.

"The cicada senses the autumn breeze before it moves; in the dark, one knows not death is coming." Seeing Yun Zheng avoid his heavy onslaught as if on a leisurely stroll, Duan Zhengyan sighed inwardly: "I fear this lad’s fortune is truly extraordinary."

The proverb referred to those who, like autumn cicadas, sense danger in advance and make judgments that defy logical explanation, while most people are born dull-witted and remain ignorant until death is at their doorstep.

That Yun Zheng could evade the "Thousand-Autumn Mountain and River Finger" without losing his momentum—and instead, cause it to climb further like Mount Tai—defied all reason.

Chen Yuchong was shocked: "Ancestor, could it be that he, like the Heavenly King Ye, is a so-called Man of Destiny..."

Yun Zheng lunged forward, and the clash of blade and sword rang out like a thunderclap in the silence.

Amidst the flickering light of blades and swords, at times the sword flew like an arrow, blocked by a heavy horizontal slash like a boulder stopping a river; at others, the blade struck like lightning, parried by a diagonal flick of the sword like a swallow skimming the waves.

Every clash of steel exploded in a brilliant burst of light.

Outside the fray, Ye Xi, An Miaotong, Priest Li, and the others watched, dazzled and breathless, their emotions stirred by the intensity of the battle.

Yun Zheng’s long blade swept across, possessing the courage to charge ten times and decide the outcome ten times. Under his unstoppable resolve, the Emperor’s Dragon-Transforming Sword was struck by the Seven-Star Blade time and again, developing nicks; it was only because it was a phantom weapon condensed from essence and spirit that it could rapidly repair itself after each blow.

Before long, the two had exchanged over twenty rounds.

As a peerless royal technique of the Dali Duan clan, the Emperor’s Dragon-Transforming Sword crashed down upon Yun Zheng with the power of the scorching sun, fierce and peerless. The nine dragon auras hissed and wailed upon the blade, exhaling golden dragon breath.

Yun Zheng’s Seven-Star Blade struck east and west, north and south. The seven Big Dipper stars inlaid with silver-bright stones blazed, illuminating Yun Zheng’s face to appear even colder, his eyes burning with murderous intent.

The South Dipper governs life; the North Dipper governs death. At this moment, Yun Zheng was as if possessed by the Star Lord of the North Dipper, holding the power to decide the life and death of others.

What matter the Emperors of Dali? When Emperor Taizong of Tang, Li Shimin, entered the underworld, he still trembled before the Yama King. How could Duan Zhengyan, a mere grassroots emperor hiding in the southwest, compare to the formidable divine power of the North Dipper star god in charge of slaughter?

The blade was like frost and snow; the sword was like the sun and moon. Yet the frost and snow were not in the least inferior to the majesty of the sun and moon, possessing instead the power to shatter them.

Faced with Yun Zheng having already seized the initiative, Duan Zhengyan’s "Emperor’s Dragon-Transforming Sword" could gain no advantage.

The only thing capable of causing Yun Zheng any trouble was the "Thousand-Autumn Mountain and River Finger," which could wound from a distance.

Compared to firearms, the "Thousand-Autumn Mountain and River Finger" was flexible, requiring no stance or aiming, making it impossible to guard against.

Moreover, Duan Zhengyan’s footwork was extremely bizarre, as if he were riding the wind, making him elusive. This, for a surprise attack with the "Thousand-Autumn Mountain and River Finger," was truly like adding wings to a tiger.

When Duan Zhengyan still possessed his physical body, he had not yet mastered the Emperor’s Dragon-Transforming Sword in his early years; he relied solely on the "Thousand-Autumn Mountain and River Finger" as his primary means of attack, which, coupled with his elusive, ghostly footwork, had already made him one of the foremost experts of his time.

Had it not been for Duan Zhengyan repeatedly using his left hand to fire the "Thousand-Autumn Mountain and River Finger" to harass him during the fight, Yun Zheng believed he would have already sliced Chen Yuchong’s body in two.

Duan Zhengyan also thought to himself with dismay: "How is it that this lad, so young, has cultivated his 'Mind's Eye' to such a profound and mysterious realm?"

Beyond the "Thousand-Autumn Mountain and River Finger" of the Dali Duan clan, there were naturally other techniques capable of shaping true energy to wound from afar.

Nowadays, as Western sorcery spread into China, many mages could unleash invisible flames, lightning, and spheres of light as attacks.

Although enchanted weapons were sufficient to shatter these attacks, such elusive methods were hard to defend against; without a powerful sixth sense, it was difficult to survive life-and-death duels against such opponents.

The sixth sense is often mistaken for the Alaya-vijnana (the eighth consciousness) spoken of in Buddhism, but in reality, it belongs to the Manas-vijnana (the seventh consciousness), which is superior to the sixth (conscious) mind.

By cultivating the path of "Asura Slaughter," Yun Zheng not only steeled his heart and will, but his "Mind's Eye" had reached the ultimate realm, allowing even his subconscious to "observe in all six directions and listen in all eight."

This was the fundamental safeguard that allowed him to remain alert to all manner of ambushes and traps even after he had descended into the madness of a Breaking-Army Asura.

Duan Zhengyan raised the Emperor’s Dragon-Transforming Sword again and battled fiercely with Yun Zheng for another ten rounds. Yun Zheng’s eyes had turned the color of fresh blood, filled with an intent to kill Chen Yuchong—or rather, him.

"Dragon Slaughter!"

With a thunderous roar, Yun Zheng raised the Seven-Star Blade into the air and brought it down like a tree-cleaving axe. The Emperor’s Dragon-Transforming Sword let out a harrowing, soul-stirring shriek as the nine dragon auras were severed simultaneously, blood flowing from the wounds.

Duan Zhengyan was horrified and manipulated Chen Yuchong’s body to retreat in flight.

Watching the momentum on Yun Zheng continue to climb, Duan Zhengyan could not help but sigh, saying to Chen Yuchong, "Lad, prepare your mind to run for your life."