Chapter 25: Departing Fire

Deep in the Southern Wilderness, south of the Spirit River, a giant cyan bird streaked across the sky. Its rider, Ang Ri, wore garments starkly different from those of the Great Yao people. Indeed, how could a proper Daoist practitioner of the Great Yao be so unrefined as to sport a mustache as thin and neglected as a rat’s whiskers? Clad in azure-blue feathered robes, he scanned the landscape below.

This region was known as Cloud-Severing Valley. Because the mountain ranges rose and fell in a north-to-south orientation, the clouds were sliced into fragments as they passed, hence the name.

The Li-Fire Sect had established its base here. They had carved eternal lamps into the cliffs on both sides of the peaks; every night, the firelight hung upon the mountains like a necklace, a magnificent sight. Yet, Ang Ri had not come for the scenery. During their migration from beyond the heavens, he and his kin had been afflicted by the "Wind of Hunyuan," causing their bodies to crystallize uncontrollably. Furthermore, the exotic flying beasts they had brought from the Haotian Realm had mutated, forcing them to cull most of their flock.

Though they had also arrived from the Haotian Realm, Ang Ri’s faction had chosen not to merge with Pu’e’s. There were two reasons for this.

First, the Dragon-kin had protected themselves well while crossing the Wind of Hunyuan and thus avoided severe "Hunyuan-ization." The Crow-folk, however, served primarily as scouts and vanguards, exposing them to the wind far more frequently and resulting in much more serious affliction; they required a tranquil environment to recover.

Second, the Dragon-kin had chosen a landing point right against the border of the Great Yao Dynasty. Such a strategic deployment, pressing against the core power of the Xi-human realm, was bound to lead to conflict with local forces. Once that conflict intensified, the external Wind of Hunyuan would surely exploit the vulnerability. Moreover, the Dragon-kin were too overbearing; Ang Ri had no desire to return to the Xi-human realm only to be driven by them again.

Indeed, the Xi-human realm was also one of the ancestral homelands of the Crow-folk. Ten thousand years ago, they had been a major power in the Southern Wilderness.

Even now, traces of their kin remained. Further south, in the Fertile Sea region, lay the kingdoms of the Feather-folk. Yet, after ten thousand years of separation, the racial and cultural divide between the Crow-folk and the Feather-folk was greater than the difference between the Haotian immigrants and the Great Yao. It was not that Ang Ri hadn't ventured through the Thorny Forest Sea to seek the aid of these "kinsmen," but the Feather-folk did not consider these sudden arrivals from beyond the heavens to be their own.

As Ang Ri reminisced, the giant bird beneath him let out a soft cry.

"Did you sense the message of the Holy Flame?" Ang Ri asked, patting the creature.

The giant bird responded, "I sensed the aura of the Holy Spirit, but it is very faint—it has already departed."

The bird had a wingspan of eight zhang, and its body length rivaled that of an ox. Of course, the bird’s bulk was deceptive; in reality, it weighed less than a ton. For a flying species, it was nonetheless a behemoth, with talons thicker than a man’s arm, capable of slicing through rhinoceros hide in a dive. Its beak was not the hooked bill of a predator, but resembled that of a crane.

Comparing it to Earth species, it was like an ibis. This monster was called a "Taiyue Luan," a creature with blood ties to the Vermilion Bird, a deity from the Southern Ridges ten thousand years ago. That it had grown into its current form was not an evolutionary result of the Xi-human realm; that conspicuous streak of cyan plumage suggested something had happened to it in the Haotian Realm.

In the final days of the Haotian Realm, the Wind of Hunyuan was at its most corrosive in a millennium. The Taiyue Luan had crossbred with other exotic birds there, which explained its departure from its ancestral appearance.

Ang Ri arrived above Cloud-Severing Valley and was promptly intercepted by a red fire-cloud. It was only natural—the phoenix rests only in auspicious places, and how could a ley line once occupied by the Vermilion Bird, which shared such deep ties with the phoenix, lack its own local power?

Ang Ri descended before the mountain gate, where a stone stele was inscribed with three large characters: Li-Fire Sect.

***

Turning to the north, across the northern bank of the Spirit River, lay the territories occupied by the various tribes of the northern Southern Wilderness.

Outside Yongji Pass, Wu Fei led a force of eight hundred men on a probing reconnaissance mission into the south.

This force was not meant for full-scale war, which would have required vast quantities of arrows and months of supplies, necessitating the construction of temporary forts and depots. Nor did they have the medical supplies and alcohol needed for wounded soldiers. None of this was prepared.

Moreover, the manpower and resources required for such logistics were immense. As Sun Tzu said, "The cost of a campaign is such that the people's wealth is depleted by seven-tenths, and the public treasury by six-tenths."

Though Yongji Pass had earned some coin recently through tolls, the frugal Wu Fei had no intention of being so wasteful.

His eight-hundred-man force carried only seven days of rations—the barest of minimums. Yet, within these ranks were specialists: men who could identify thousands of Southern Wilderness plants and insects, knowing their poisons and antidotes, or who could distinguish drinkable stream water from poisoned sources by scent alone.

Xuan Chong thought to himself: *As a student who has always handled things by the book, I have developed a standard operating procedure for every new task I undertake.*

If the conquest of the Southern Wilderness was a final exam, this was his mock test. Before plunging a massive army deep into the territory, he had to first "rub against the entrance."

Throughout the journey, Wu Fei strictly ordered his soldiers to maintain discipline and not harass the local populace. With a massive army, such an order would be pure nonsense, but with this small group, it was manageable. Whenever they encountered tribes, Xuan Chong would personally interrogate them, and after the questioning, he would give each a bag of salt before sending them home.

Roads and the activity ranges of various tribes were meticulously marked on their maps. In the base camp, after updating the intelligence on his Mountain-Water Divination Chart, Wu Fei asked the mage Yao Sangu, who was holding a lantern nearby, "Sangu, has your Lotus-Fire Guiding Art yielded results?" (At some point, Wu Fei had stopped calling her 'Fairy' and switched to 'Sangu,' or even 'San-ya-tou' when feeling particularly familiar.)

Sangu held a lotus-shaped lamp, her expression solemn in the flickering light, like a goddess in a temple. Two cups of tea later, she exhaled, dropping her sacred demeanor. "General, along this route, I have communicated with the spirits of the mountains. The army shall pass without wind or rain."

Wu Fei glanced at her, offering a polite show of appreciation for her "spellcasting," while muttering internally, *Are you trying to hoodwink me?*

However, seeing the flames dancing on her delicate fingertips—and verifying it wasn't a trick of hidden lamp oil, but rather drawing on the fire energy of the entire forest—Wu Fei tentatively believed her divination. He sniffed the air; through the sixty-eight "sensor arrays" within his body, he could also detect the moisture and wind shifts in the mountains, allowing him to roughly track their position so he wouldn't be led around by the nose.

"Report!" A message came from outside the tent. Xuan Chong immediately stepped out. Seeing the messenger, Wu Fei knew intel on the local power had arrived.

Minutes later, Wu Fei studied the information delivered by a soldier who had once been a merchant in the Southern Wilderness. "The Li-Fire Sect?"

He had known that a group of "outsiders" gathered south of the Spirit River, worshipping fire, but he was surprised to confirm they were the Li-Fire Sect.

This sect had originally been a prestigious orthodox school in the Central Plains. Four centuries ago, they were summoned to the palace to refine an "Elixir of Immortality." Something went wrong, resulting in the deaths of several royals. They were branded an evil sect, and their lineage shifted from the orthodox "Li-Fire" to heretical external alchemy.

Since they had become a "heretical path" and were hiding in the miasma-filled Southern Wilderness, they were no fairy sect. Their methods were undoubtedly sinister and dangerous.

Wu Fei made a mental note: *This is no ordinary sect; it is a demonic cult blocking my army's path. I must strike with a heavy hand.*

Years ago, Wu Fei might have held illusions about fairy sects, like a commoner idolizing a goddess. Now, having realized that "Spirit and Malice cannot coexist," he felt a restless urge to lead his army to crush every such mountain gate he encountered.

He reviewed the records of the miasma disasters near Yongji Pass over the decades. The most recent entry read: *16th Year of Xutian (ten years ago), Spring: Heavy miasma, mornings foggy, sky dim. Ferocious beasts from the deep mountains frequently raided villages, devouring the people; trade was severed.*

***

...The Li-Fire Sect was indeed no fairy sect...

Ang Ri had entered the sect, and what he saw was shocking. The lamps he had seen from afar, ringing the mountains, were fueled by human fat.

In the center of the magnificent lamp array in Cloud-Severing Valley was a massive sinkhole emitting intense heat. Beside it, batches of Southern Wilderness slaves operated pulley systems to lower stone vessels into the pit, hauling up baskets of ash.

These slaves wore no shackles; they were voluntary, like devout believers.

Once retrieved, the ash alternated between black and a glowing, fiery red. Ang Ri’s eyes lit up. Although these slaves varied in size, the "alien" state of their bodies had been retracted—a sign of perfect control. He realized this was the effect of the Holy Flame, capable of neutralizing the infection of the Hunyuan Qi.

Powerful men with red runes glowing on their skin brought the stone vessels to a platform and poured out the ash. As it spread, the black ash and glowing embers formed a Yin-Yang symbol. The red embers would dim into black ash, only to be reignited by the remaining sparks, causing the symbol to rotate.

Nearby, Li-Fire Sect disciples knelt and, ignoring the searing heat, began to consume the ash as it cycled through its extinction and reignition.

Ang Ri watched, sensing a "vitality" being stimulated within them.

An evil aura emanated from the cavern. Ang Ri frowned; he had sensed something similar in the Haotian Realm, in the far west, where creatures sustained their lives by consuming the essence of human blood. The "Fire Ancestor" inside this cave gave him the same feeling, only this "Fire Ancestor" had to rely on the Holy Flame for suppression.

***

...After the ceremony...

Ang Ri said, "By order of the Lunar Empress, I have come to offer birthday wishes to the Fire Ancestor."

From the cavern designated as the holy site, a withered voice replied, "A disciple of the Azure Luan Lady. A pleasure."

The sound wave rolled out from the cave, causing the lamps across the mountains to sway. Though the Li-Fire Sect was far from the Central Plains, their rituals and calendar remained the same. "Sun and Moon" held unique meanings in their liturgical system.

Thus, when Ang Ri invoked the Lunar Empress he worshipped and displayed her magical attributes, the sect’s ancestor respectfully addressed her as "Lady," but he would never acknowledge the title "Lunar Empress."

As an envoy of the "Lunar Empress" of the Haotian Realm, Ang Ri was clearly displeased. The Luan bird, linked to him by heart, let out a soft cry hundreds of feet away, its wings trembling slightly.

Ang Ri suppressed his irritation, turning to the matter at hand. After a long silence, three impossible-to-ignore flames flickered in the cave. The shadows cast by these flames danced as if in deliberation, eventually merging into a single light.

The ancient voice replied, "Recently, there have been great waves on the Spirit River, blowing from the north. If your clan wishes to return, you must stand firm against this wind."

***

...Back to the north...

Late April, 26th Year of the Xutian Calendar. Just before the rainy season, Wu Fei led his troops back into the pass.

The tribes, who had expected the Northern Yao to launch an assault, breathed a sigh of relief after ten days of tension. Yet, they cursed the Yao commander for "looking for trouble" and wandering about—surely, he would meet his doom soon.

Inside the pass, a group of speculators complained that Wu Fei had returned "empty-handed," without bringing back slaves or exotic goods for his "family members." The nickname "Little Sparrow" began to circulate again.

Wu Fei knew this nickname would be impossible to extinguish, like a wildfire. If he couldn't put it out, he wouldn't waste his energy; struggling only showed he cared. As the sole commander left behind by the Wu family in the Southern Wilderness, his priority was to stabilize the situation and endure the gossip.

He was well aware of the internal division in the Wu family: who would be the next head of the house—himself or Wu Hengyu? He wasn't worried about Wu Hanluan; Wu Hanluan would always make the decision most beneficial to the family. It was those irrational, impractical members of the family, stirring up topics to inflate their own influence, who were the variables.

Beside him, Sangu was embroidering a handkerchief. The years were peaceful, her needle dancing between her fingertips.

*As for the position of the Military Lord,* Wu Fei thought, *to say I don't care would be a lie. But I know my role in the army better than anyone! As long as I perform my duty, I am irreplaceable. That role is to hold the fort! Guarding the home requires stability; I will not strike without absolute certainty.*

After returning, Wu Fei had sent men to uncover the secrets of the "Li-Fire Sect." Strangely, all records within the Great Yao stopped four hundred years ago, after the sect was renowned for elixir alchemy.

When something is abnormal, there is a demon afoot. Wu Fei increased the bounty to a thousand strings of cash, which led to a crucial, if dangerous, piece of news: his scout had been targeted by the Demon-Suppressing Bureau. Clearly, the information touched upon a taboo.

A few days later, while Wu Fei was still guessing, Wu Hanluan sent him a letter containing the secrets of the "Li-Fire Sect" gathered by a clansman who served as an alchemist in the palace.

After reading the information contained in the secret box, Wu Fei exhaled.

*Well, that explains everything.*