The Qi Arts Master Chapter 79
While Tian Ailang came and went between Sichuan and Yunnan, the empire's political landscape had undergone drastic changes.
The Demonic Cult had absorbed the Blood Cult, triggering a massive reorganization of its forces—one key aspect being the cleanup of ties with the political elite. Even those officials who had connections to the Blood Cult but could still communicate with the Demonic Cult forged new alliances with it. To accomplish this, Draku had gone to the imperial palace, subjugating and taking control of Yao Xiang and the Yin Killing Squad, which had been the Blood Cult's elite forces. Then, Kusila—who had killed Togtemur and ascended as the new emperor—died. Officially, it was reported as death by illness, both domestically and abroad.
Afterward, under the leadership of Prime Minister Tullui, who maintained close ties with the Demonic Cult, the young crown prince Taruk was enthroned as the new emperor. Under the pretext of properly educating and supporting the naive, childlike Emperor Taruk, Prime Minister Tullui wielded near-regent levels of immense power. Officials eager to curry favor with the emperor and prime minister proliferated, and fairness and integrity vanished entirely from the imperial court. Exploitation to gather bribes became rampant, cascading downward like a waterfall, growing ever more severe at lower levels.
The Demonic Cult, having secured the empire's greatest powers in the emperor and prime minister, sought to extend its influence across the entire imperial court—but failed. This was because Paeng Punggwol, known within the palace as Paeng Taegam, the eunuch chief commanding all the palace eunuchs, steadfastly maintained absolute neutrality. Paeng Taegam's otherworldly martial prowess and the vast network spanning the entire imperial household operated solely for the court, untainted by alliances with any martial world faction. Of course, Paeng Taegam's own ennui-like indifference was precisely what allowed the Demonic Cult such free rein within the palace.
On the flip side, the Red Turbans' forces exploded in growth amid the imperial court's chaos and corruption. Among them were the three great warlords: Zhang Shicheng, Chen Youliang, and Zhu Yuanzhang. Zhang Shicheng commanded abundant finances, while Chen Youliang boasted mighty troops. Zhu Yuanzhang, relatively disadvantaged compared to them, sought a new path: the scholars of the south.
Though the fertile lands south of the Yangtze accounted for eighty percent of the Yuan dynasty's revenue, the Mongols—who had come from the north to found their empire—had long scorned the southerners. With Mongols dominating the core power of the imperial court, the Han Chinese had already faced exclusion; the southern Han endured even harsher discrimination. For this reason, southern scholars harbored deep resentment, refraining from office—whether by choice or force—and devoting themselves solely to scholarship.
Zhu Yuanzhang granted Ni Daehyeok full authority in this matter and began rallying the southern scholars. With Song Sogeol transferred to the Medical Pavilion for better treatment, Ni Daehyeok had no further reason to remain at the Dam family household; he moved out the moment he received the order. In one bold stroke, Ni Daehyeok embraced the famed "Four Great Scholars of the South"—Song Ryeom, Yu Gi, Jang Il, and Seop Chim—capturing the hearts of southern intellectuals in an instant. These scholars, long deprived of outlets for their learning, sprang to life like fish entering water: petitioning Zhu Yuanzhang and awakening the ignorant masses cowering in silence.
As part of this, Zhu Yuanzhang heeded the southern scholars' advice to "proclaim a clear cause and seize the people's hearts," elevating Han Lin'er, the nominal heir to the Song dynasty known as the Little Bright King. It was a declaration to scholars and commoners alike: a Han Chinese nation must be founded, and he would achieve it. Moreover, Zhu Yuanzhang issued a stern edict: "Never torment the people. Anyone who does—even those of the highest rank—will be executed without mercy." In one fell swoop, he captured the populace's loyalty. Thus, Zhu Yuanzhang surged ahead as the strongest of the Red Turbans' three warlords.
* * *
The North Sea Ice Palace was a fortress built upon vast snowfields. Nearby lay the North Sea, a massive lake providing drinking water. Its walls were entirely of ice, yet crafted with special techniques granting exceptional strength. The outer walls rose high to block the fierce winter gales. Composed of inner and outer fortresses—with the palace lord's chambers deep in the inner sanctum—there were no strict residential restrictions between warriors and civilians.
The Ice Palace's combat-ready warriors numbered around three hundred, with civilians at about fifteen hundred. The high warrior ratio relative to the total population stemmed from the mandatory martial training for all children. Severely short on manpower, the North Sea Ice Palace trained everyone—men and women alike—in the Ice Gong. Those with exceptional talent became warriors. Even non-warriors benefited, as the Ice Gong granted resistance to cold.
Due to the Ice Gong's influence, every inhabitant of the North Sea Ice Palace had silvery hair. This led outsiders to view its hot-blooded people as cold, contrary to their fiery dispositions—a perception etched in records. Currently, the civilians had evacuated to the inner fortress on the palace lord's orders, while the warriors prepared for war. They diligently poured water on the outer walls and beyond. Unable to excavate the frozen ground for a moat, this makeshift measure would serve the purpose. While meaningless to martial artists, the slick ice would hinder their horses—and substantially impede enemies scaling the walls.
Ice Palace Lord Seol Eom ascended the outer wall's watchtower, gazing into the distance. Faint sounds of countless hooves and auras reached him, growing clearer by the moment.
"All hands! Battle stations!"
At Seol Eom's command, warriors climbed the walls, nocking arrows lightly to their bowstrings and standing ready. Bows were essential in warfare, yet martial artists rarely used them. Aiming and firing at foes who moved at superhuman speeds was difficult—and even if hit, they could dodge or deflect. But if a martial artist infused inner energy into the shot, that changed everything. Still, martial artists shunned bows for inefficiency: the time spent mastering archery was better devoted to sword cultivation for faster realm advancement. Unspoken but pervasive was the notion that bows simply weren't "cool."
North Sea Ice Palace warriors weren't immune to such thinking, but their harsh environment left no choice—they had to learn archery. Hunting was the primary food source on the boundless snowfields, and birds were the most plentiful prey. The ferocious, valiant warriors showed no tension despite the enemy's overwhelming numbers. Ice Palace Lord's daughter, Princess Seol Hwa, felt the same—smiling, even.
"Those bastards are filthy numerous, huh."
Seol Eom inwardly shook his head at his daughter's brash tongue. She's so damn tough—how the hell's she ever gonna get married? Even more worrying: she refused to wed any man weaker than herself. Resembling her late mother—the fairest beauty of the Ice Palace—Seol Hwa had blossomed into full flower upon reaching her mid-twenties. Droves of palace men showered her with attention, only to be beaten back. She would challenge suitors to "sparring matches," thrash them, then yell, "Weaklings entertaining delusions? Your training's lacking!" Tales of warriors dragged to hellish drills after confessing to her were infamous in the palace.
Her innate genius shone from childhood, pummeling warriors as she grew. Now in her mid-twenties, she had touched the threshold of the Flower Realm—a feat rare even in martial history. Thus, her declaration to marry only a stronger man deeply troubled the palace lord. Most men stronger than her are probably old fogeys. His only daughter, born at the cost of his wife's life, received all his love and loneliness poured into her. He fed her the North Sea's rarest treasures: Ice White Powder, Snow Lotus Thread, and Fire Yang Ginseng to balance yin and yang. He only wished for her healthy growth. Seol Eom felt his daughter's future was somehow karmic retribution for his own deeds.
Gazing at the distant enemy ranks, Seol Eom murmured, "Indeed... they've gathered in great numbers."
"Let's charge out and smash 'em now. They must be exhausted getting here."
Seol Eom firmly shook his head at his spirited daughter. "I'd love to, but buying time comes first."
"You trust that Hao Gate Lord guy?"
Seol Eom replied, eyes fixed on the approaching cavalry, "If he'd just said it outright, I might've doubted him."
Seol Hwa shot him a puzzled look. He continued, "But a deal changes everything. No one's more reliable in transactions."
"First time I've seen you vouch for someone like this, Dad. How'd you even meet?"
"Ran into him in the Central Plains during my youth for various reasons. We built a bond and traded a few times after. The last one—I asked for the impossible, but he promised and delivered."
"What was it?"
Recalling it, Seol Eom chuckled. "Fire Yang Ginseng from the Demonic Cult at Ten Thousand Great Mountains."
"...Pardon?"
Seol Hwa's startled query drew more laughter from Seol Eom as memories flooded back. "He's Hao Gate Lord now, but back then, they called him Heavenly Face Asura. Apparently, he disguised himself perfectly, infiltrated the cult, swiped the ginseng—and bragged about nabbing other treasures and secrets while at it."
"Whoa... total badass uncle. Gotta be pretty old, right?"
Savoring the fond memory, Seol Eom jolted at her abrupt words, eyes widening. "What?! He's ancient! Probably has a daughter your age!"
Seol Hwa shrugged at her sincerely furious father. "Kidding, Dad. Haha! Anyway, he'll be weaker than me."
Seol Eom just shook his head. He didn't mention the Hao Gate Lord might actually be stronger than her.
"Sigh..."
"Still, your story eased the pre-battle jitters, Dad."
Seol Eom nodded in agreement. Then, from the cavalry's center—now aligning horizontally—the Black Wind Captain rode forward. Clad in black armor like a soldier, his black cape billowing, atop a black steed: pure ebony.
Clop, clop.
Like ink drops staining white snow, the Black Wind Captain halted before the water-sprinkled moat-zone. Slowly, he surveyed the ground, walls, the palace's overall state, and its warriors. His utter nonchalance evoked a reversal of host and guest.
"Never heard the North Sea Ice Palace handled intelligence. Unexpected."
Murmuring in a cold voice, Black Wind Captain Cho Yeo-un turned his gaze to Ice Palace Lord Seol Eom.
"Are you the Ice Palace Lord?"