Volume One: The Monarch's Edict Chapter Eighty-Four: This Is My Home

Most of the citizens within Flame City were impoverished families, choosing to settle in this unremarkable small city. Who could have foreseen that, though even the fires of war during the founding of the Iron Dynasty never reached here, today they would be struck by such calamity? Over ten thousand innocent civilians were killed or wounded, with even more hurt by collapsing buildings. Ingenious traps had destroyed more than half the houses visible from the city walls; the people were displaced, forced to sleep in the open streets.

Though the Heavenly King Sect’s army appeared disciplined, their sheer numbers inevitably led to some unruly behavior. The seven mountain lords focused mainly on managing their disciples, leaving the soldiers less restrained. This stirred conflict between the townsfolk and the troops; within a single night, barricades sprang up in the city to block the soldiers’ advance.

Some even came to demand justice. With a grim face, Jade Balance Master kept them outside. “We’ll be gone in a few days and won’t take up your resources. Please, be patient.”

“Flame City has always been a poor place. We cannot bear such military oppression. We are all native-born; whether you are the Iron Dynasty or any other army, you will not run wild here!”

Thousands of citizens, attired in all manner of dress, gathered in noisy protest at the camp’s gates. Amidst curses and shouts, Jade Balance Master pressed his hands down, releasing a wave of inner energy to calm the crowd. Sensing this force, some martial artists among the crowd responded in kind, unleashing their own energy. “Folk! These soldiers mean to fight us! This world belongs to all, not just to you bandits!”

Whether stirred up deliberately or simply by the moment, more and more civilians surged toward the encampment, forcing the disciples of the Heavenly King Sect to push them back.

Soon, skirmishes broke out. Jade Balance Master hurried to intervene, “No weapons! Do not harm the people!”

Should innocent civilians be killed, it would incite mutiny in the ranks. Flame City could well entangle a hundred thousand troops until their strength was spent.

Concerned for the Sect’s reputation, Jade Balance Master, though filled with frustration, could do nothing but swallow his anger. He knew little of commanding armies; his disciples knew only how to fight, and all were at a loss in such a situation.

Both sides shoved and struggled. Some soldiers, losing patience, swung their spears and knocked down several citizens. Fires were lit at the camp gate as some attempted to burn down the encampment.

A disciple noticed in time and tried to douse the flames, but the arsonists would not allow it, drawing wooden sticks and cleavers to attack those who came to help. One man, bare-chested, arms looped with heavy iron rings, felled a swathe of soldiers with a single punch; the force of the clashing rings was immense, and even sturdy armor could not withstand the blows.

Jade Balance Master stepped into the crowd, intending to mediate, when suddenly a sense of danger descended from above. He leapt back in alarm as a long staff crashed down before him, gouging a groove in the earth.

A master among the common folk! The thought flashed through his mind. Without hesitation, he struck with his fingers, and his opponent blocked the blow with the staff held across his chest.

Jade Balance Master retreated half a step; his opponent also took a step back.

“Who are you? Do you know this is the Heavenly King Sect’s camp?” Jade Balance Master’s face was calm, but inwardly he was weighing his options, already considering retreat. The man before him was barely weaker than himself; to the left, the iron-fisted giant’s energy was robust and powerful, and to the right, a flash of white light revealed a master swordsman.

In the chaos, the three fought fiercely, felling dozens in the blink of an eye, breath steady, faces impassive—no disciple, no matter their skill, could stop them.

Jade Balance Master tried again with his finger technique, but could not even get past the man before him.

“Li the Eighth, noodle shop owner of Flame City! Watch the staff!” The man answered as he swung, and on close inspection, one end of the staff was dusted with flour. Five staff-shadows followed in its wake, real and illusory, leaving Jade Balance Master unable to advance.

As the few rampaged, a voice behind called out, recognizing the technique, “Is that Bagua Staff? I never thought I’d see it here, outside of Westwater.”

A stone flew from behind, striking the staff and forcing Li the Eighth back several steps. A figure in blue streaked past with dazzling speed, blade gleaming coldly.

Xie Dongting had been watching from the rear for some time, not alone—Liu Xiaoyi and others waited on a distant hill, having noticed the unrest at the camp gate and realizing trouble was brewing. Just as they were about to intervene, the fighting broke out.

“Mountain Lord Jade Balance, go notify Elder Dao Ruins; we’ll handle things here!” Liu Xiaoyi advanced, sword in hand, and together with Xie Dongting, held off Li the Eighth. The other two were similarly engaged, forming three dueling circles, drawing the conflict away from the camp.

Tang Qiu led his men to string ropes, dividing the chaotic gate into clear boundaries and providing space for retreat. Drums sounded within the camp, gradually sobering the agitators.

Two hours passed before the townsfolk realized the gravity of their actions—hundreds wounded, dozens seriously. Elder Dao Ruins arrived, face dark, just in time to see the three battered masters.

“What do you take the Heavenly King Sect for? Why not go trouble the Immortal Mountain? If you keep this up, you’ll tear Flame City apart!” Dao Ruins’ anger erupted as he berated the agitators.

With the Sect Leader’s arrival, the people lost some of their bluster.

“Flame City lies in ruins. We are left homeless and demand an explanation. What crime is there in that?” Li the Eighth thumped his staff into the ground, addressing Dao Ruins.

“When war breaks out, not only small cities but even Jade White Capital cannot escape. What explanation do you want?” Dao Ruins smiled, producing a map marked with a clear red line. Flame City lay not far from its beginning. “If you want to reach Central Province, this is the only route, passing through a dozen cities. If all acted as you do, the Iron Dynasty would never reach Central Province after subduing all rivals.”

The rebels had little to consider, but Dao Ruins was pressed for time. Today’s march was set, and a lengthy council in the tent had delayed him, so he was in no mood for further trouble.

“Then whom should we, the people, turn to? The Iron Dynasty ignores us; neither you nor the Immortal Mountain cares. Our homes destroyed, what good is your empire?” Li the Eighth grew more impassioned, gesturing toward the smoking city. “That is my home—generations have lived there. Look at what it’s become!”

Dao Ruins was about to reply when Bai Yiting interrupted, “Grant us three days to help you rebuild. Will that suffice?”

“Daoist, how trustworthy are your words? We let you through, and you break your promise?”

“If you’re willing to trust, clear the way. Three days to rebuild Flame City. It won’t be as prosperous as before, but we’ll restore some of what’s lost. We’re soldiers, not masons.”

After some murmuring, the townsfolk agreed. Dao Ruins, displeased, asked, “Daoist Bai, whoever enters Central Province first gains the upper hand. Cui Ran faces off with Xue Pan at the front; reinforcements are needed.”

This was Tang Qiu’s suggestion, relayed by Bai Yiting. “Most soldiers were once common folk. If we don’t resolve this, discontent will fester. And with Flame City at our backs, the army will never be at ease.”

Flame City was small; it was impossible for all hundred thousand troops to help rebuild. Liu Xiaoyi volunteered to stay with five thousand men, letting the main force march ahead. Though Li the Eighth and his fellows had more to say, they fell silent—for five thousand filled the city inside and out, supply wagons clogging the streets.

Liu Xiaoyi had another reason for staying: to find a master craftsman to reforge the King’s Sword in secret.

Who knew what awaited ahead? If, upon entering Central Province, someone discovered the truth, he would be in grave danger.

Tang Qiu was far shrewder than the other disciples. Raised on military treatises, the young lord of the Tang family’s first major command was, ironically, to oversee reconstruction—helping to rebuild Flame City.

Soldiers hefted timber under the guidance of townsfolk, rebuilding homes, leveling the scorched ground, and tending to the wounded throughout the city. Under Tang Qiu’s command, the five-thousand-strong force worked in perfect order, busy yet unhurried.

Soon dusk fell; the main army had long departed. In the city, temporary tents glowed with lantern light. Such harmony between soldiers and civilians was rare: the townsfolk brought out their best food and drink to share with the troops.

Liu Xiaoyi, donning black and veiled, slipped secretly from the camp. Though Tang Qiu was actually in command, he was the nominal commander, and his absence might cause alarm.

He made his way to an old willow, checked his bearings, and slipped into a narrow alley behind it, softly knocking at the third house’s wooden door.

It opened at once; two men waited inside. Liu Xiaoyi did not immediately enter but jumped onto the courtyard wall, casting a detection spell to ensure they were not followed before relaxing.

“General Liu, this is Master Cai, the finest craftsman in Flame City,” Li the Eighth introduced with a smile.

The hall was small, iron tools hung on every wall, and a modest stove warmed wine and food.

The master of the house was a stooped, squinting old man, his eyes sunken and unreadable in the dim firelight.

“Young man, I hear you want a sword made? Have you a design?” Master Cai offered a bowl of liquor. Liu Xiaoyi downed it in one gulp, pinching his nose—the potent brew left him coughing hard, never having tasted such strong spirits.

Master Cai burst into hearty laughter.

“The plans are here. This sword is special—it must contain a hidden soul force.” At these words, Master Cai’s laughter ceased abruptly. The room fell silent, not a sound to be heard.