Dangtugo, the High One on the Road (1)
"Uuugh... Ah, there she is!"
Zhang Fei, who had been groaning at the stinging ache in her head, sprang up from her seat. Far off in the distance, a faint glimpse of sky-blue hair. Her hunch — that the woman would show herself sooner or later if she just hung around near the Grand General — had hit the mark exactly.
...Though, come to think of it, leading the Grand General's bugok while guarding his person had been her own duty from the very start.
"...Hm."
Guan Yu, as if to say do as you please, did not stir from her spot and simply watched Zhang Fei.
"All right. Then let's have ourselves a bout of—"
"Urgent report!"
Just then, a messenger appeared within the Grand General's camp.
"Huh? Wha—?"
Zhang Fei, who had been striding toward Zhao Yun, backed off with a dazed look on her face. The mounted courier passed through the gap her retreat opened up and made straight for the Grand General.
Zhang Fei cocked her head.
"...What's this about?"
A rider tearing through the interior of the Grand General's camp — a place guarded more tightly than anywhere else under heaven. And the messenger's destination was none other than the building where the Grand General was currently staying.
"...?"
The Grand General emerged from the building with the shuffling gait of a man only just out of bed, and eyed the courier with puzzlement. Reaching him, the messenger dismounted and offered a deep, respectful bow.
"Grand General! I bring a report!"
"...What is it?"
Sleepy as he still looked, the dazed air about him suggested he had already sensed something ominous.
"We have confirmed that the Imperial Seal, missing since the Ten Attendants' Rebellion, is currently in Yuan Shu's possession!"
"......?"
Everyone nearby — Zhang Fei included — wore their confusion openly. The Imperial Seal. Was that not the priceless treasure that embodied the Emperor's authority? And what did it mean that Yuan Shu held it — that the secret he had buried so deep had now been laid bare before all the world?
Even Zhang Fei, never one for book learning, could tell this was no ordinary affair.
"...Don't tell me."
The Grand General seemed to have caught on to what was happening.
"Lord Yuan Shu has usurped the throne!"
The messenger, down on one knee, cried out.
"He has declared his state to be Zhong, styled himself Dangtugo, and raised a massive host, they say!"
"......"
The Grand General held his silence, and the messenger added at once:
"The host numbers a full hundred thousand and more!"
"...Haah."
Hearing the figure, the Grand General let out a long sigh — the air of a man who had always known this day would come.
"It's true I can't just wave off a number like that. But at the end of the day, it'll be nothing but powerless farmers herded into the ranks at spearpoint."
"......"
"Settle the barbarian problem, and trouble sprouts up somewhere else."
Sweeping a hand down his face, the Grand General spoke again, his voice fully awake now.
"We move at once. Make haste."
"Yes, sir!"
His adjutant bellowed, then rounded on the camp.
"What are you idlers standing around for?! Move, now!"
"Yes, sir!"
The Grand General's army burst into its all-too-familiar bustle.
Watching the camp swarm with running figures, Zhang Fei thought:
'...Hold on, though. Doesn't this mean no sparring today?'
The moment the thought landed, she scratched the back of her head with the hand that wasn't gripping her Serpent Spear.
"Aigoo. Nothing for it, then."
She could hardly put her own cravings ahead of the affairs of the realm, after all. Before they had even finished settling Jing Province, the foreign tribes had come pouring into Bing Province; and now, before the damage from that had even been dealt with, that lunatic Yuan Shu had gone and usurped the throne clear over in Gangdong.
And Shuchun, of all places, was hardly far from Jing Province. On the map, a hostile power right next door was kicking over the whole neighborhood — there was no way to look the other way and march past. And on top of it all, he had crowned himself Emperor, a frontal challenge to the Han itself?
She couldn't have said what the exact reasons were, but one thing was plain: Yuan Shu had gone properly insane.
"Somehow it feels like everything's getting tangled up..."
Zhang Fei glanced once at Zhao Yun, whose face remained as blank as ever, then turned away.
Shuchun County, Jiujiang Commandery, Yangzhou.
A building of such staggering scale that it would have drawn the eye beside any structure in the land. Within that sumptuous edifice — one that would have lost nothing to the word "palace" — an exchange was underway.
"My lord! You must wait a while longer!"
A civil official stepped forward, bowing low at the waist as he spoke.
"Even now, if you would only reconsider this choice—!"
"Silence!"
The man crowned with the beaded diadem said to symbolize the Emperor, draped in the Emperor's own raiment, brushed the official's counsel aside.
"I magnanimously granted you a hearing because you called it an urgent matter — and this is the drivel you spew at me?!"
"But to ascend the throne in the present circumstances is to draw the gaze of every power around us—"
"Enough!"
Crash! The cup Yuan Shu flung rolled clattering across the floor.
"Do you still not know the contents of the prophecy?!"
As the honeyed water from the cup spilled out and soaked into the luxurious carpet, Yuan Shu shook open the bamboo slip he had kept tucked against his breast.
Yuan Shu's eyes slid down the bamboo slip in his hand — the chenwei, the apocryphal Book of Prophecy.
"Th-that is..."
The words — that it was a sham prophecy, invented purely to curry his lord's favor — surged to the tip of the official's tongue. But he knew full well that the instant he spoke them, a blade drunk on rage would come down upon his neck.
"And does not the tu of Dangtugo mean 'road' — the very meaning carried by my own name, Shu?!"
"......"
"The descendants of Emperor Shun are none other than the Yuan clan!"
Yuan Shu laughed, madness written across his face.
"If I, the rightful heir of the Yuan house, do not lead this nation — then who in all the world will?!"
"...My lord."
"Silence!"
At the first hint of the official opening his mouth, Yuan Shu roared.
"Address me as 'my lord' instead of 'Your Majesty' one more time, and I will have your head where you stand!"
"......"
Confronted with such unreason, the official understood that no counsel would reach him now, and held his tongue. There was no hope left for this faction. No — perhaps there had been none since far, far earlier.
Just then, a general appeared where Yuan Shu and the official stood.
"My lord!"
"How many times must I tell you to address me as Your Maj—"
The general looked wretched, as though he had come straight off a battlefield. At the sight, Yuan Shu's brow knotted for an instant — then he donned a studied performance of benevolence.
"Ohh. It's you, is it."
"...Th-..."
"Well, then. Your coming must mean you finally bring good news?"
The kneeling general, carefully reading Yuan Shu's mood, spoke in a shrunken voice.
"F-forgive us. We have not yet crossed the Yangtze..."
"What?!"
Yuan Shu's eyes bulged as he bellowed.
"You mean to tell me you still have not crossed the Yangtze?!"
"Forgive us! Liu Yao's resistance was too fierce — there was nothing to be done—!"
"Every time you open your mouth, it is nothing but excuses!"
Face burning scarlet, Yuan Shu made to fling the prophecy book in his hand — and could not bring himself to do it. As though his very power were bound up inside that book.
"...Hoo."
Trembling from head to toe, Yuan Shu gathered his breath.
"I shall send you reinforcements."
"Th-thank you! My lord!"
The general bowed once more and withdrew.
"Tch."
Still radiating unsatisfied fury, Yuan Shu slumped heavily back into his seat.
Liu Yao's faction had strung its defensive line along the Yangtze, and still it could not be brought down. Part of this was surely the desperate ferocity of Liu Yao's resistance — but above all, it was the scarcity of capable generals within Yuan Shu's camp.
Generals whose names carried weight even beyond his borders amounted, at best, to Zhang Xun and Ji Ling. And even those two fell short of the ability to shoulder every front of a war, leaving the campaign sputtering along. Nor could he forget the several commanders lost to Cao Cao's blade at the Battle of Kuangting.
"If only the Sun family were here at a time like this...!"
Yuan Shu — who on ordinary days would have counted the very thought of the Sun family a humiliation — now groaned aloud, longing for them. Sun Jian had not shown his face on a battlefield since taking grave wounds in his fight against Liu Biao, but the abilities of his child Sun Ce and the warriors under that banner were sharp enough that even Yuan Shu had marked them with real attention.
That talent of such caliber should surrender to the enemy, handing over Nanyang Commandery in the bargain — Yuan Shu's fury needed no explaining.
Perhaps, then, his forced usurpation of the throne had never been mere hunger for glory. Ever since the Anti-Jeong Reung coalition, defeat had followed upon defeat, and his authority had sunk lower and lower. His name had long since become a laughingstock across the realm, and not one warlord gave him a second glance. Perhaps he had forced his way onto the imperial seat for no reason but to resurrect his fallen prestige...
"Why does no one in this world understand that I am the true Emperor?!"
"......"
...Blinded by power — it seemed that diagnosis was correct after all.
What fate, then, awaited this faction? To the official, only a single outcome presented itself.
Ruin.
And beside Yuan Shu, the Imperial Seal he always carried against his breast as his most cherished treasure gleamed in dazzling splendor.