Volume 5, Chapter 48 – Settling It (Two-in-One)

A week had passed since the Xia Emperor’s northern campaign and Northern Yu’s formal descent into internal chaos. The structure of the world had been overturned beyond recognition.

People everywhere, including the Federation, had been closely watching for Pilgrimage Mountain’s concrete response, but Pilgrimage Mountain had remained silent throughout. At that point, some people more or less understood what that meant, and their view of “High Emperor Ancestor Xia” immediately changed.

“If this is really the reaction we’re seeing, then that ‘saintly gentleman’ probably already spoke with the Xia Emperor somewhere beyond our sight, right?”

“Pilgrimage Mountain hasn’t issued a single condemnation over this. Doesn’t that imply that that one came out the worse for it in front of the Xia Emperor?”

The overwhelming majority of media outlets did not print such talk, but ordinary people discussed it on their own.

And so, rather strangely, over the past week the surging anti-Xia tide came to an abrupt halt. Related topics became taboo, things one dared not touch even over drinks at a dinner table.

In its place came a new current of thought, a new way of thinking. Experts and scholars who in previous broadcasts had still been condemning the Xia Emperor’s brutality and lawlessness all changed their tune, beginning instead to speak of how “Eastern Xia also belongs to human civilization,” and how “human civilization now has one more power comparable to a saint, which on the whole is a good thing.”

In contrast, the atrocities of Northern Yu began to be exposed on a wide scale.

To humans living in the Federation, both Eastern Xia and Northern Yu were synonymous with “backward feudalism.” They had long known that the people of Northern Yu, still influenced by feudal remnants, remained accustomed to keeping household slaves, so they were mentally prepared for certain outdated backward institutions and laws.

Even so, when war correspondents stationed at the front published report after report of “refugee interviews,” they were still horrified by the cruelty of Northern Yu’s nobility.

What? Those Northern Yu nobles actually had to eat people on a regular basis because of demonic-power loss of control?

What? They even still preserved the vile custom of “living sacrifice,” slicing open the sacrifice’s belly on the spot and eating the organs dug out from inside while the sacrifice was still alive?

What? Some nobles even specially kept pure virgins, all so that every morning they could drink a mouthful of fresh heart’s blood flowing from a maiden’s heart?

As case after case piled up, even those who had supported Northern Yu most strongly before no longer had any ground to say a word in its defense.

Within the Federation, a massive anti-Yu tide of public opinion began to rise. Countless self-styled civilian organizations took to the streets to lead public demonstrations, shouting slogans and even demanding that the Federation government forcibly intervene in Northern Yu’s civil war.

[They are human too!]

[Humanity’s fate lies in our hands!]

[To win the war against the voidfiends, we must unite every force that can be united!]

A great many groups began waving slogans like these.

This trend swelled from a small snowball into a thousand-meter tidal wave in an astonishingly short time, and the Federation government, like Pilgrimage Mountain, chose silence in the face of the situation.

So naturally, in the Federation’s sphere of public opinion, Northern Yu, this nation, rapidly and utterly collapsed in reputation.

The civil war in Northern Yu was still ongoing. Strictly speaking, it had only just begun. The newly reestablished Northern Yu royal court had only a few hundred thousand troops left in hand and was powerless to deal with the great masses of refugees scattering in all directions. It could only suppress refugee uprisings near the central line whenever possible while continually seeking foreign aid on the international stage.

But with very little to show for it.

Not only had the people of the Federation changed their attitude toward the matter, even the people in the scattered small countries wedged between the three great nations chose to wait and watch.

Before, it might have been hard to say. But now, no one was willing to offend the Xia Emperor for the sake of a royal court that had no possibility of ever reclaiming its glory.

And so Northern Yu’s war sank into a mire, while its aftershocks and influence continued to spread through this period, reaching every corner.

April 24th, the Shiqing Festival.

In the three southwestern provinces, every base city opened its gates wide, organizing groups of people to pass beyond the walls and travel into those wild and desolate regions, places they might no longer even recognize, in order to prepare ancestral rites.

For reasons no one fully understood, voidfiend incursions had eased in every region. But the wilderness within Great Xia’s borders still held large numbers of voidfiends and demon beasts. To prepare for this event, each base city had spent a long time making arrangements. Not only were supplies along the route provided in excess, but the coordinates of ancestral grounds submitted by registrants were tabulated in advance so that nearby regions could be cleared beforehand.

But that could only guarantee safety to a certain degree.

After the snowmelt, many demon beasts that retained animal habits would awaken from hibernation, and April and May were precisely the season when they roamed in search of food. In theory, every team would inevitably suffer voidfiend attacks of varying scale.

The base cities had already publicized the danger, and even so, they could not dampen the enthusiasm for registering.

The people of Xia had been stifled for too long.

Ten years, it was said—but the atmosphere of those ten years had been so oppressive. They had been forced to forget all sorrow and pain. Even when family members died, they could not mourn for long and had to immediately fill the vacant post left behind.

Like a rope drawn taut: while it stayed taut, psychologically one might feel nothing. But now High Emperor Ancestor Xia had returned. Someone was bearing for them the things they had never wished to face, taking revenge and venting some of that anger on their behalf. And once that happened, the grievance they had held inside could no longer be suppressed. It would pour out like a flood.

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“Dad, I’ve come to see you…”

Within the weed-choked ruins of a city, a middle-aged man in his forties or fifties finally found the earthen mound from his memory. Without even setting down the gun in his hands, he dropped straight to his knees before it.

“This is osmanthus wine. I bought it with this month’s ration.”

“In these past ten years, I never managed to come see you because I couldn’t be sure whether tomorrow I’d be coming to join you myself.”

“But now, Northern Yu is about to fall.”

“Did you see that?”

“High Emperor Ancestor Xia has avenged us…”

Scenes like this were happening everywhere throughout Great Xia’s territory.

Such acts in themselves offered no help to defense or to the larger situation. On the contrary, they exhausted the people, wasted resources, and added danger for no gain.

But those in charge of such matters also understood very clearly—some emotions that had been held in for too long had to be let out.

Commemoration was for receiving the inheritance of conviction.

This was not a bad custom, but the sail that would carry them toward a new sea.

At the same time, the perspective shifted south.

After passing the towering walls of New Chilong Circuit, then crossing the ruins of South City in the former Chilong Circuit, entering the primeval jungle that blocked sight and where even the wild grass stood as tall as a man, this group of people hacked and opened their way forward until at last they found the entrance to that secret realm.

“Hm?”

Long Wanghe was walking in front, taking the lead as always. He was the first to see the giant tree hollow serving as the secret realm’s entrance, and also the guarding force stationed before it.

A full squad of the Zhennan Army, and judging by the aura they gave off, they were elites among elites.

Every one of them was equipped with technology battle-suits, capable of resisting the impact of most modern firearms head-on, along with protective helmets, runic firearms, and broad-bladed war swords. Merely standing there, they radiated a murderous chill.

“Oh, it’s Warden Long.”

One man stepped out from the group on the other side. He had stern features, steady eyes, and bronze skin touched with a hint of darkening.

“Y-you…” Long Wanghe stared for a moment before barely recognizing him. He hurried forward, unconsciously drawing his shoulders in a little. “So it’s Captain Xu. Then… does this mean that Your Majesty has already gone in first?”

If one insisted on distinguishing by administrative rank, the other man’s official standing was far below his own. But Long Wanghe knew that in certain situations, official rank was practically meaningless.

Not to mention the many military achievements this man had earned in recent years leading troops, and the fact that some kind of obsession was the only reason he kept refusing promotion and insisting on remaining active on the front lines.

Just that other identity of his, one of the very first inner disciples of Shenming Sword Dao, was enough to completely suppress a city watchman like Long Wanghe and make him not dare overstep in the slightest.

“She came yesterday already.”

Seeing Long Wanghe’s constrained expression, Xu Shu’s lips curled slightly.

“The process is almost over.”

“Warden Long, please wait here for the time being.”

“Y-yes! Thank you, Captain Xu, for the reminder…”

Long Wanghe was somewhat surprised. Judging by the situation, people were actually not being allowed inside.

But he did not dare show any dissatisfaction. He immediately had his men step aside and settle down near the Zhennan Army’s guard line to rest.

“A pack of opportunists climbing with the wind.”

Watching the newcomers sit over there, leaning against tree roots and sighing deeply, another person walked over from the squad. It was a young woman in a close-fitting combat suit, with an added bulletproof vest strapped over it and a giant war sword across her back. She delivered that cold judgment of Long Wanghe.

Xu Shu glanced at the girl and let his gaze rest for an instant on the arm hidden under her long sleeve before he said, “Then would you prefer he came, or prefer he didn’t?”

“Of course he should come.” The girl glared. “The first ancestral rite after Your Majesty’s return—if he dared not come, what, is he trying to rebel?”

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The logic contradicted itself front to back, and Xu Shu could not help baring his teeth in amusement.

Wrong if he comes, wrong if he doesn’t.

Girls really are mysterious things.

“So when are you and Stone finally going to settle things?”

Thinking that, Xu Shu decided it was about time he put some of his function as “senior disciple sword-head” and “eldest senior brother” to use and create an opportunity for these junior brothers and sisters of his. So he lowered his voice and asked the girl.

“You said three years, then another three years.”

“You made Stone wait for ten years. Now that even Her Majesty has returned, how much longer are you going to make him wait?”

“I… th-that…”

The moment she heard this, the girl’s face flushed red, and her speech immediately grew hesitant and stumbling.

“You’re not that young anymore, Jingjing.” Xu Shu sighed.

“I didn’t say anything before because over there, they really couldn’t do without you.”

“But now… well, you know.”

“I think if Her Majesty asked about it, she’d tell you to consider your personal feelings first for the time being.”

“After all…”

Xu Shu looked again toward the girl’s left arm.

“You’ve already given enough.”

“No one can fault you for anything.”

“Or are you saying you think Stone would despise this arm of yours?”

“I… ah, what are you bringing all this up for all of a sudden?!”

Unable to outargue Xu Shu, the girl grew flustered.

“I’m going to stand watch at the entrance! I’m not listening to your nonsense anymore!”

“See? Flustered again…”

“Eldest Senior Brother! You’re awful!!!”

“When the Dao Lord… when Her Majesty comes out, I’m absolutely going to report you! I’ll say you’re always matchmaking disciples inside the Dao and hardly put any mind into practicing the sword at all!”

“Heh…”

The girl stormed off in a huff, but Xu Shu was not angry in the slightest. On the contrary, he smiled with quiet gratification.

A long-lost ease, a long-lost leisure.

Before he knew it, ten years had passed.

Elsewhere, inside the ancestral ground.

Snow drifted through the sky, for people had been scattering spirit money all along. The small road leading to the ancestral shrine had already been carved out and paved with blue brick, with upright posts set up along it, from which hung lanterns faced in white paper.

A group of several dozen people, dressed in mourning clothes and in pure white from head to toe, knelt in worship before a square stone stele, while only some of the older-looking members of the family remained standing behind them.

Once this younger generation had finished bowing, the elders stepped forward, cast the prepared offerings into the fire, and lowered their heads to speak with the dead.

“The time should be about right.”

Bai Shengju stood at the very back. He estimated the hour and felt that the most important “rite” ought to be about to begin.

Sure enough, amid startled cries from several children, Bai Xiang appeared in a plain white mourning dress, carrying Yao Xing and Yao Sheng separately in her hands and setting them before the stone stele.

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“Grandfather.”

After laying down the offerings, she turned to look at Bai Shengju and yielded the presiding position to him.

Strictly speaking, the karma surrounding Little Aunt Bai Nianchan was not as deep for Bai Xiang as it was for Bai Shengju, Bai Guanshan, and the others.

After all, she had never truly spent time with Bai Nianchan. Her feelings toward her were therefore lighter. And so she felt this opportunity ought to be given to the elders.

Only by letting them take revenge with their own hands could that knot inside them truly begin to loosen.

“Good.”

Bai Shengju stepped forward and took up the sword resting on the bricks nearby.

Before the gazes of Bai Guanshan, Bai Lianzhou, Bai Qingmin, and the others, he first seized Yao Xing, stared at his deathly pale face full of terror, and muttered, “Twenty-eight years ago, violent Yu ruled without justice and caused my child to die unjustly in prison.”

“Twenty-eight years later, I have finally waited for this chance—to use the heart’s blood of a dog thief like you to make an offering for Chan’er!”

The way he spoke was terrifying: eyes bulging wide, lips trembling, each word squeezed out through clenched teeth.

Yao Xing trembled violently in fright. He wanted to defend himself, but his throat and tongue had been sealed by a method, so he could only let out hoarse rasping sounds from deep in his throat.

Slash!

Without hesitation, Bai Shengju cut off his right arm with one stroke.

“AAAH!!!”

Blood sprayed wildly. Yao Xing screamed in pain.

Slash! Slash slash!

Several more cuts followed. Bai Shengju pared Yao Xing down until only his head and trunk remained. Then he hauled him in front of the stone stele, pushed him forward, and let the blood stream into a stone bowl that had already been set there.

That process lasted a full hour.

Bai Shengju did not kill Yao Xing cleanly. Instead, he kept slicing strips of flesh from him with the blade, and after cutting for a while would raise him again and bleed him into the bowl.

Doing it this way, the stone bowl was soon filled with blood. More blood overflowed, spilling down at an angle toward the stone stele and being absorbed little by little by the stone and the soil.

“Uh…”

Yao Xing’s throat had long since gone hoarse from screaming. By now he was completely unrecognizable. Even the skin of his face had been flayed away, whittling him down into a bloody skeleton.

By this point in the execution, Bai Shengju himself had grown a little tired.

He stopped dragging it out. With one thrust, he drove the sword into Yao Xing’s heart, releasing one final gush of scalding heart’s blood and letting it splash in a rush over the stone stele, staining nearly half the monument a dark red.

After doing all this, his body began to tremble. He slowly turned halfway around.

“Chan’er… did you see that…”

“Xiang’er, and your grandfather too.”

“In the end, we really did win justice back for you!”

As he spoke, his body shook ever more violently. Yao Xing, meanwhile, finally let his head hang low. The breath of the living had left him completely.

Whoosh!

Bai Shengju flung the mutilated corpse into the fire to be burned as nourishment for the dead, and at once the eyes of the bai family all turned toward Yao Sheng.

All of them had heard of the deeds of this newly enthroned Yu Emperor. According to rumor, his relationship with the Yao family had never been good, and he had won the throne not because Yao Xing favored him, but because he had fought for it through his own ability.

In theory, Yao Sheng’s karmic entanglement with them was not deep. But he should never, ever have chosen to inherit Yao Yu’s line of succession.

To inherit the throne was also to inherit the karma. And correspondingly, enmity and hatred would be inherited as well.

So Yao Sheng had to die.

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Seeing this, Yao Sheng knew he was doomed, but he carried himself far more firmly than his father Yao Xing had.

He did not look at any of the bai family. Instead, he fixed his gaze on Bai Xiang.

“You shouldn’t have come back to do this.”

He spoke each word to Bai Xiang deliberately.

“The slaughtering karma is too great. You will inevitably suffer the backlash of the Heavenly Dao.”

“Eastern Xia cannot escape the tribulation fated for it.”

“What Great Yu is today will be Eastern Xia’s future…”

“Shut up!”

Bai Shengju roared and stabbed a sword into his chest. Then he drew the blade free, and at once clusters of burning heart’s blood splashed across the stone stele, drenching the altar entirely.

“Heh heh…”

Yao Sheng collapsed with a savage smile.

At the very end of his life, what he felt toward the world was only hatred.

He hated his own weakness. He hated the teacher who had used him and then cast him aside.

At the same time, he hated his father Yao Xing for never giving him the favor due a son of the imperial house, and instead leaving such a terrifying karmic burden for the newborn Northern Yu to inherit, so that every future hope he had was shattered, and in the end destroyed by the hand of a woman!

He hated so deeply…

He hated so deeply…

“Father!”

“Watch out!!”

Against the rising smoke, everyone could see a twisted phantom gathering out of Yao Sheng’s body.

It was his remnant soul.

Because his resentment ran too deep, it still could not dissipate even after death. Under the reinforcing influence of the ancestral ground’s special aura, it was actually beginning to mutate, gradually transforming into the earliest stage of a Demon Pool.

Voices rang out in warning from all around, but it seemed too late.

The phantom lunged at Bai Shengju the instant it appeared, rushing to possess the nearest person. But just as it was about to strike, a spread hand appeared in the middle and clenched shut around it.

“Y-you… Di Xiang!!!”

Yao Sheng’s twisted ghost face pushed out through the gaps between those fingers. Bai Xiang said nothing, merely pinched him out of existence with a cold expression.

There was no need to say anything more.

The rite was over.

The injustice and dark cloud that had shrouded the bai family for twenty-eight long years had finally begun to disperse today.

Weeping and sighing became no more than white noise in the background.

Amid those emotions, Bai Xiang felt a gaze settle upon her.

She turned her head slightly and saw that her younger sister, Bai Zhuqing, was staring at her.

Unlike usual, those clear eyes were brewing with violent flames.

Endless.

As though they wanted to burn everything to the ground.