Chapter 68: Such a Land and River

Even Qian Ye could perceive that this decision violated elementary military principles. Yet the overall operational strategy itself had been sound, having undergone multiple analyses by General Lin and several alterations by Zining Song to match shifting battlefield environments. Every loophole appeared scrutinized.

Yet battlefield dynamics remain in flux. Regardless of the numerous contingent strategies composed in advance, commanders must always adjust plans with battlefield reality constantly changing.

Who then, bore the crucial responsibility of monitoring intelligence and coordination? Wondered Qian Ye with growing somber concern.

General Wenguo received broader and deeper information resources comparing more detailed combat developments between imperial field generals and Zining Song. They gathered enough knowledge concluding pivotal events. It required both timely arrival and strategic restoration by General Lin during the decisive moments. Moreover, a massive Voidborne Fleet and a number of vampire Dukes from the Ever Nights faction vanished unexpectedly from their positions, thus ultimately tipping the battle entirely upon the floating landmass.

Zining Song’s glance lingered subtly upon Qian Ye as silence filled their space. Qian Ye projected outward calmness yet internally battled rising turmoil. Beyond the unquestionable commanding abilities held by General Lin, recent occurrences stirred suspicion: Ever Nights had invested far too excessively into several local battle arenas; Lin couldn’t possibly balance out stark strength imbalances so effortlessly.

The empire marshaled its entire military mobility toward this floating land engagement, an armament not lacking in forcefulness. Nevertheless, Ever Nights deployed battalions that exceeded norm by alarming proportions and launched precise assassination campaigns targeting key field commanders—enabled undoubtedly by ceasing their civil conflicts, thereby liberating surplus battle power.

Pivoting back, why had it all come down to a floating continent struggle amidst evident adverse macro-level situations?

Certainly, General Wenguo had his reasons to limit discussions. For sure, he kept more knowledge secret—knowledge tied directly to Minister Lin’s elimination of the Second Chancellor. After all, executing a fellow high-ranking strategist so dramatically during a crucial confrontation was far from auspicious. Wenguo himself lacked clarity enough not to engage further conversation before two junior participants at that juncture.

The subject thus shifted vaguely, as matters ceased pursuit into that direction from others present.

Zining redirected inquiries regarding Wenguo’s near future strategy. Presently, both western and eastern reinforcement forces had pierced the floating continent and convened at Baischeng. Naturally holding the ultimate authority as they merged forces, Wenguo planned a detachment remaining behind for garrisoning and clearing ruins and debris while mobilizing elite troops to advance further north, establishing control over floating crafts' remaining bases and neighboring locations.

The Ever Nights remnant battalions upon reaching land became stranded. Some supply ships narrowly slipped away while vast majority were eliminated mid-retreat escaping. With complete inability of aerial retreat or mobility secured, annihilation proved simply inescapable at their hands eventually.

In General Wenguo’s eye view, this confrontation marked a definite turning point.

After the departure of Wenguo, Qian Ye lingered immersed deep in thoughts—grasping fleeting sensations, yet failing entirely to grasp full clarity at whatever lingered beyond mental reach. Suddenly flashes stirred—pre-battle reports he’d previously known and that recent high command opposition forcing Chancellor Lin into producing such battle strategy.

Despite initial non-involvement until the crisis climax appeared suspicious, recollection pieced together fragmental elements into troubling patterns unsettling Qian Ye internally. Unexpected yet dramatic celestial displays flashed across recent memories—anomalous stars burning into falling arcs across skies. Qian Ye found uneasiness creeping within at these reflections alone.

Turning suddenly to address Song Zining: “How then verify those forecasts of yours just now?”

Seemed hesitant for words before a weary sigh: “Now that Marshal Lin has personally set foot on the floating continent and our military communications have largely been restored, any signal—good or bad—should be confirmed very quickly.”

Qian Ye abruptly rose. “Then let me go seek further insight.”

Grabbing firmly onto the latter, Song rebuked him. “To where precisely do you intend going? And tell me honestly, where stands your blood essence health right now?”

With enhancements achieved through *Black Scripture* granting an astonishing two-class leap toward Vice-Duke standing within Ancient Vampire tiers, no price remained unclaimed in reckless ambition. Without any sensations linking him back toward primordial Blood River or any other natural progress markers, only surging raw energy from endless voids flooded in—an overpowering force simultaneously accompanied by intense darkness that threatened internal equilibrium between shadows and awakening powers.

Thankfully Bai City remained unexpectedly calm recently after his promotion to this elite standing, eliminating immediate external pressure otherwise forcing maximum exertion on his part. Thus he maintained control successfully enough, despite unstable darkness energies threatening volatility. Still unpredictable lay consequences from the breaking of that crucial Profound Obsidian threshold.

Observing that persistent determination shadowing Qian Ye's facial lines, Song applied further forceful grip restraining movement entirely while speaking.

“If we look across battlefield dispatches, there hasn't been one report formally noting the arrival of Lin upon a specific battlefield. What location precisely are you expecting to encounter him? As you now stand barely in control—will you rush recklessly into his presence exposing dangerously unstable primordial energy flows?”

Qian Ye remained momentarily still. His own potential unrestrained explosion, capable of obliterating entire fortress complexes at that exalted public status, risked endangering even a man as grand as General Lin himself regardless outcome upon confrontation. The sheer scale of that destruction could not possibly remain benign in aftermath repercussions.

Song Zining heaved yet another heavy exhale. “One night should do. At daybreak tomorrow’s early hours, the bulk portion of these remaining battles shall hopefully conclude decisively. We'd then send out standardized official transmissions through encrypted channels and wait for proper responses from Lin as per convenience upon receiving said communication.”

Even while Qian Ye acknowledged the validity Song’s reasoning presented; the internal unrest refused to subside even briefly. Accumulated tensions—year-after-year suppressed and restrained longingly awaited release—burned restlessness through every thought now igniting unbearable anxious discomfort compelling spontaneous action.

As morning dawned the next day, Qian Ye awoke within canvas quarters strangely disoriented at the eerie absence of nighttime weaponry roar sounds normally filling night air.

Stepping outward beyond quarters enclosure, first light still barely coloring horizon’s skyline but bustling activity had already begun across entire encampment. Those fighters left behind by General Wenguo initiated extensive cleanup operation over Bai City battlefield remains. For all its size no larger than average town, the pileup of more than150,000 corpses became grim reality impossible to avoid confronting.

During cleanup efforts—soldiers often revealed additional remains layers beneath previously removed cadavers.

Survivors watched motionlessly upon escalating growing piles around them revealing familiar companions from recent days. No longer differentiated from nocturnally affiliated species—no option beyond immediate on-site disposal without opportunity returning bodies home to proper burial rites among their own kind remained feasible in numbers overwhelming even consolidated army strength drawn from eastern and western corps together.

Qian Ye roamed casually beyond camp, ascending temporary wooden watchtower. Again staring out over Baischeng's extensive battlefield wreckage.

He’d envisioned countless horrors previously, accumulated numerous hard-fought life and death battle scars through harsh experience. Yet previously those mostly entailed martial conflicts at enhanced individual capacities rather than full-scale carnage at battlefield scale where a single sector engagement spanning miles usually limited involvement scope, making large-scale casualty accumulation feel distant in numbers and context at ten thousand dead level.

Yet here sprawled before his visual frame—bones of fifteen thousand men scattered among ruins within single city walls—enough to rebuild structure entirely through skeletal remains.

Among that devastated wreckage area, imperial troops carried out excavation tasks ceaselessly. Corpses were continually removed individually—species identified and remains scavenged of equipment—then sorted into transportation piles designated for external empty terrain.

Imperial dead were placed carefully within separated designated zones while Nocturnals piled messily within huge burial holes preprepared alongside.

Then unexpectedly amidst wreckage-covered space amidst chaotic movements—an individual caught Qian Ye’s sharp attention suddenly.

This figure strolled along nonchalant manner walking a straight path, entirely crossing Baischeng’s width approaching slowly forward.

He must have already existed long enough within urban destruction’s middle center portion, as it were. However, he'd previously remained absolutely imperceptible to Qian Ye until moment precisely calculated. His precise arrival within this battlefield’s urban domain—time undetermined. His visibility revealed only in that moment, implying clear intention by him alone enabling this perception.

Despite his vast enhanced abilities now surpassing earlier limits significantly, Qian Ye was gripped instinctively by the same sensation evoked during that original first encounter. He felt no match against that approaching figure, helpless beneath that person's existence.

Across countless warriors under all sky territories, perhaps scarcely a handful possessed the magnitude required producing such impact.

Qian Ye leaped gracefully from watch height descending onto terrain ground. Waiting solemnly at the spot with composed demeanor while anticipating imminent reunion.

Arriving person took no time upon final moments. His very next single stride closed immense spatial gaps instantly placing himself before Qian Ye, studying him carefully. Disdainfully yet casually observed remarks spilled forth:

“You’ve advanced further than I imagined although that swirling black haze around your current aura puzzles me entirely. However, under current nonaffiliated status our hierarchical protocols are no longer binding requirements today so spare me formal rituals.”

Qian Ye responded respectfully with firm clarity: "This humility expresses not merely reverence for accomplishments achieved safeguarding humanity at large but partially rooted also within Lin Commander respect and legacy; You hold position akin to elder within my familial structure thus deserving of deferential recognition accordingly."

The arriving dignitory remained revealed without formal introductions needed for identity disclosure; indeed, this visitor came recognized unmistakably as Ch'ingyang Duke Zhang Bai Qian.

He offered slight head nod upon hearing those courteous words, acknowledging while murmuring approval remarks:

"As anticipated, quite impressive reasoning indeed. It explains further why Lin held you to exceptional value."

Clarifying the purpose of visit briefly, stating intent to remain brief as empire homeland affairs hadn't yet concluded. Extended absences from that position invited potential complications elsewhere.

"Homeland operations still continuing?" Expressed Qian Ye genuine astonishment toward unanticipated revelation.

Duke Zhang responded cynically with barely disguised scornfulness: “Just another installment payment due courtesy of the Crimson Burial. Surely they can’t be thinking of trying some new trick after I’ve reminded them often enough in the past.”

The phrase Crimson Burial resonated instantly inside Qian Ye’s cognition triggering sudden recollections previously suppressed subconscious connections.

“You’re saying the Long Life Emperor is actually dead? If nothing else major happened, that would explain why he suddenly vanished among those old imperial warlords... He still couldn’t hold on even after exhausting every treasure that prolonged life and restored youth?”

True enough, while most imperial subjects might never personally experience these harrowing confrontations known collectively as Crimson Burials throughout history; all learned their crucial cultural significances at early education ages. They represented Evernight’s customary challenge whenever the imperial throne passed to a new ruler during such critical succession epochs.

Proper execution of defensive responses determined whether conflicts would remain containable ritual skirmishes or expand suddenly into full-fledged existential threat wars endangering species survival on mass scale. That notion of a second simultaneous front upon mainland territory beyond massive investment committed toward the floating continent battlefields proved staggering unforeseen reality.

Upon invoking the Long Life Emperor aloud amidst discussion, Zhang's icy piercing stares intensified momentarily before shifting to carefully composed delivery:

“Naturally I mean him.”

“If that bastard had managed to cling to life one day longer, I would have personally sent him on his way.”

Such words classified unquestionably as guarded secrets. To know that even among ruling emperors, internecine combat occurred so lethally intense stunned Qian Ye completely unready to respond. Shock overwhelmed his senses.

Glancing once again with measured expression toward silent questioner, Zhang elaborated with heavy tone:

Had the Long Life Emperor survived a bit longer, the situation on the floating battlefield might not have devolved into the chaos it did—Commander Jun would not be grievously injured; and Lin—...

Qian Ye’s heart froze involuntarily, voice trembling on the cusp of emotional overload:

“What happened to my foster father?!”

“By his own hand he restructured the entire strategy on the floating continent—purging enemies within and destroying enemies without.” He said plainly. “That is why you all survived. He bore the cost alone."

Thus verified terrible dread.

Qian Ye suddenly felt as though an unimaginable piercing cold coursed throughout his body from skull to spine, numbing all coherent sensations while still feeling distant painful pines from undiscernibly vague bodily locations. True agony knows no tears, profound enlightenment stays silent amidst suffering. He experienced only waves of pain cascading endlessly through an unrelenting hollow void within where a missing section from deep subconscious lingered absent.

His gaze fixed upon standing figure toweringly above. Wielding power at its peak of maturity—his presence radiated no longer the razor-edge sharpness often intimidating even from mere proximity to others. Rather it resembled an aged legendary weapon long secured carefully within storage—its outer brilliance concealed yet undeniably potent.

Beneath Zhang Baqian's seemingly unperturbed mask lurked subtle traces of sorrowful loneliness. For decades Lin Xitang rivaled against him, the Empire’s twin swords locked in endless contention not simply at martial arenas, but political spheres, clashing fiercely throughout three-decade battles both physical and political alike.

Despite their decades-long hostility, Qian Ye had long sensed something far more complex within interactions between these two individuals—one blending subtle threads connecting friendship interwoven through long entrenched animosities. The guidance and occasional favor of Ch’ing Yang had never existed purely independently of Lin’s influence in shaping Qian Ye's rise. Their absence now marked final disintegration of a once glorious partnership—the Empire’s brilliant twin lances extinguished; Zhang Ba Qian surely concealed unspoken inner lamentations beneath that stoic expression.

It may have been forever stretched within Qian Ye's mind before those frozen numb emptiness gave way, releasing surging tides of grief crashing through heart like crashing ocean tides. Left solely with a heart that became ice-like within; ice bearing a flickering warm inner fire beneath glacial surfaces beneath.

Pondering those earlier remarks again, he began grasping deep implications hidden. He asked quietly with a subtle inquiry rising:

“The enemies within you spoke of... does that mean the traitors in the Empire have already been purged?”

Confirming with minimal surprise or emotional fluctuations:

“Indeed. The very first thing Lin did after setting foot again on the floating continent was to personally kill the Right Chancellor.”

“The chancellor...?”

Through detailed follow-up explanations from Prince Zhang regarding underlying political plots, Qian Ye eventually discerned entire inner circle plotting rebellion successfully destroyed alongside their networks being systematically dismantled progressively. Only leftover insignificant followers scattered throughout society like weeds remained beyond eradication capabilities, destined wandering between opportunism and self-preservation only.

Within Qian Ye a consuming flame sizzled abruptly, extinguished before ever taking proper life—an unsettling hollowness forming where personal vengeances had once dwelled. His emotions choked off painfully with nowhere clear outlets upon realization—could vengeance be his for taking? Or had it been claimed before he could properly engage?

Yet this mechanism itself constituted the very reason why Empire remained unshaken upon historical scales. Though burdened with great challenges, the colossal force of civilization persisted through winding and difficult trails. Since those ancient beginnings, no one determined a singular correct guiding path amidst eternal blackness—although unified ideals may align; the interpretations and personal choices would always remain distinct amongst multitudes. Through the processes correcting itself by itself, by facing hard self reflection while preserving righteous purpose, humanity found its united cause creating space nurturing its enduring dawn.

Qian Ye then released one long deep exhale before posing quiet question.

“Did my foster father leave any words for me before he departed?”

Prince Zhang hesitated briefly, then spoke: “He fell within the Demon Emperor’s domain. As for what exactly happened, those eyewitnesses aboard the Evernight fleet still couldn’t clearly explain it.”

That night he pursued all the way to the edge of the Upper Continent, chasing the dark warfleet that had joined in besieging Lin. At the final decisive moment, the Emperor’s Domain swallowed everything into utter emptiness. All the dark nobles surrounding it were shut out in a silence like the void itself—they had no idea what had truly happened inside that sealed pocket of battlefield.

“The Demon Emperor personally made a move?!” Qian Ye's voice quivered, a tremor of dread in those blood-tremoring irises.

Gently Zhang Ba Qian shook his head in reply while adding softly:

“Lin carried in his heart only great ambitions and the ruthlessness to sacrifice all for them. There were too many things he had to do; whatever private words he may have wished to say were never spoken. After everything was over, the first thought I had was to come and see you.”

At that moment, Qian found himself unable express anything coherent—only able to tilt upward his gaze skyward into dawn mist's embrace, perceiving again vaguely last night's mysterious astral rainfall spectacle in fading vision.

Since the Huang Quan incident, Qian Ye had never met Lin Xitang face to face again.

Every excuse given preventing reunion—justified excuses at the time yet still painful to endure.

Oftentimes he'd questioned if Father abandoned him long ago since many found Lin’s compassionate salvations prior to him—and so many more saved far after he had been adopted by the commander. As plain and simple as he considered his personal existence compared to those many—what was truly different about him that warranted the singular unique attention reserved from this magnificently gifted man who walked through life so radiantly?

Over times and through gradual accumulation details learned through various bystander accounts, Lin grew larger in memory becoming even more impressive beyond anything imaginable at capacity forgiving hearts and boundless tolerance toward multitudes. His gift as a talent cultivator with unparalleled Heaven's Eye foresight enabling recognizing talent regardless alignment—always fostering and empowering gifted individuals, even knowing future beneficiaries might not serve directly under his banner.

Despite fathering offspring not limited to only a handful; only singularly upon him—only Qian Ye did Commander Lin share family's last name. That subtle difference, however, despite years passing without visible reunification—had continuously shown tiny signs of warmth and care embedded within daily interactions even as those subtle nuances remained.

Learning directly from Prince Zhang of his present importance and standing within Lin’s heart revealed truths only comprehensible too late for actual reconciliation in lifetimes already lost.

A few heartbeats passed filled with silence before gentle murmured query resumed.

“As for what comes next... have you thought about it? Where do you intend to go from here?”

Qian Ye's mind stood completely adrift, stunned into quiet helplessness before hesitantly replying vacantly:

“Since the chief culprit has already been removed—then as for the great matters here, it seems... there’s no place for me anymore.”

Cutting straight into that response while firmly correcting:

“The old go, and others replace them without end. The Long Life Emperor was like that as well. Do you really think your part is over now?”

Caught off-guard, silence lingered momentarily as Qian Ye registered.

Gentler and warmer this next tone, while still carrying authority:

"Regardless of whether it is Lin, myself, or anyone else you have met or have not met, we have always shared the same view—you were never one of the Eternal Night."

A meaningful deliberate silence punctuated the words.

"We defend the human race; no law says you must therefore belong to the Empire. And also, do not become another Lin. Men like your foster father are necessary to the human race—but one was enough. His kind of devotion sees only the grand design, never the self.”

Clear statements were issued with enough subtleties implied—although he still found difficulty digesting its full emotional implications lingering on final remarks left intentionally vague.

Then unexpectedly, the Prince appeared oddly wistful.

“My business is done. But... just this once more, I will act on his behalf.”

And then he suddenly delivered one single decisive closed fisted chest thrust aimed directly to Qian Ze's central blood nexus heart!

Slow in tempo; Qian Ye, with his ability remained entirely trapped helplessly watching the punch impact—there simply wasn’t any avoiding it regardless all martial reflexes screamed of the incoming impact. He watched the fist of Ch’eng Yang Duke crashing relentlessly straight into his bloodcore itself!

Even casual strike of Duke could collapse mountains. Qian’s blood-core was reduced in instantaneous implosion—fragmenting immediately into glittering fragments; barely maintaining cohesion through threads of organic binding connections preventing actual dispersion as complete destruction.

The aftermath stunned even Qian Ye. Blood essence dropped in waves relentlessly—tumbling rapidly down from previous elevated Vice-Duke level—eventually steadied marginally above noble Marquis levels, having just barely escaped plunging downward to actual Baron ranks beneath.

He staggered backward spitted crimson droplets—yet expressed gratitude openly despite his injury state.

"Thank you... Your Highness, Duke Qingyang!"

Marvelously precise had been the strike's construction! Severing but not eradicating his former level—graceless yet healing-friendly damage awaited full body recovery within sufficient downtime. His monstrous bloodline would reconstruct and repair. Blood essence level loss had effectively eliminated risks posed by Song Clan cultivation manual concerning Profound Obsidian imbalance. No one but a martial grandmaster like Ch’eng Yang himself possessed the capability executing this exact intervention.

Placing forth a batch of handwritten manuscripts retrieved from pockets into waiting hands:

"These reflect certain cultivation insights; perhaps they will prove beneficial. Consult when available."

Opening cover, first few large Chinese characters caught attention:

Grand Mysterious Art of Martial Conquest

“This—…”

“A martial formula that traces its lineage back to the Sage’s martial scriptures, though it was never fully completed.”

“I studied it for a time in my early years, though I later turned to other arts. In recent years, during idle intervals, I revisited it and made some revisions upon the Sage’s original framework.”

He spoke nonchalant yet casually.

However Qian Ye understood implicitly the sheer value this enriched edition bore beyond ordinary comprehension.

Records spoke of only handful mastering over fifty sequences of the "Military Destruction Method" sequences before fading out historical obscurity.

The Zhang family possessed its own ancient ascension path. They had never needed to continue further with this art, and so it had long been set aside.

Yet in returning to it in his later years, every modification had been made with Qian Ye alone in mind.

Merely holding such documents conveyed an unimaginable weight within hands.

Carefully safeguarding scroll treasures, Qian Ye was surprised yet further still by next unexpected verbal offer:

“You are Lin’s son. There is no need for formal titles between us.

If you are willing, you may call me Uncle.”

Upon concluding, Zhang turned to survey battlefield's remains once more. His last parting statement emerged with poetic sadness in tone:

“With such mountains and rivers before us, is it worth shedding blue blood and singing to the long wind for them? Even if it is not, why are there still so many who go forward one after another without regret...?”

Standing unmoving in original spot, countless threads entwine between remembrances. Memories wove complex patterns around present self entangling within.

All these long millennia through dark eternal nights humanity stumbled slowly and painfully upon winding paths through infinite gloom—yet barely two centuries ago had first seen dawn’s distant flickering candle-light emerging within endless night of hardship and war.

First ancestors cut painful trails across unmarked terranes. Their heirs built and carried torches onward passing fires ever between hands in successive relays of generations through toils both bitter sweet.

There exist none who earned unchallenged freedom; rights demand sacrifice and cost. Dignity never comes absent blood price paid through uncounted sacrifices.

The departed heroes carved eternal legends upon memorials of honor while living wept long laments.

Yet, amidst infinite darkness spanning timeless ages, one spark ignited humanity’s path towards collective awakening.

A tiny beginning, flickered steadily growing toward inevitable conflagration consuming the darkness entirety.