The bearded deputy commander of the Wilderness Legion watched Shanhai Wu with deep respect. He burned for vengeance against those who had taken Captain Guo, but the Wilderness forces had their own sacred duty.

  He noticed green-cloaked figures from his own ranks slipping quietly into the camouflage-clad crowd of the field legion.

  Raising both hands high, the deputy commander signaled for silence.

  “Brothers of the Wilderness Legion,” he called, voice ringing clear and strong, “I trust the field forces to handle the remaining evil cultivators. Deacon Wu will give us justice. But we have our own responsibility!”

  At the resolute timbre of his words, the Wilderness warriors fell back into formation. They stood unmoving in the steady rain, waiting for the command center’s response.

  Shanhai Wu gave the deputy a nod of approval. The man returned a courteous nod and remained in the downpour, eyes fixed on the building ahead.

  Turning, Shanhai Wu stared at a shimmer in the empty air. He had leaped from his skimmer the moment it landed; the instant his boots hit the courtyard, he had sensed Lin Gan concealed nearby.

  His gaze lifted to the arcane aircraft hovering above. Ten years ago, deployments meant taming spirit beasts or expending precious elemental energy to ride the winds—both costly, both vulnerable to ambush. Difficult terrain forced long marches with heavy supplies.

  Now these magitech skimmers solved every problem. Shanhai Wu admired Lin Gan’s foresight more than ever.

  That was why his trust in the man was absolute. With Lin Gan holding the camp, even the Five Allied Nations could not take them.

  At Shanhai Wu’s sharp gesture, over three thousand field troops boarded the skimmers in disciplined haste. The craft rose, cloaked themselves in invisibility, and streaked toward the Blackwood Forest.

  Lin Gan, still hidden in the air, had been alerted by outer sentries the moment Shanhai Wu arrived.

  In his mind, the field and artisan divisions were the least likely to betray—they were bound by marriage, by blood, more invested in the Watchers’ survival than anyone.

  Watching Shanhai Wu from the shadows had confirmed the man’s loyalty. And the Wilderness deputy had handled the crowd masterfully.

  When Lin Gan reappeared, he stood on the command center’s raised platform, floating communicators hovering at his side.

  Sharp-eyed warriors spotted him first, whispering urgently to those around them.

  Soon every face turned toward the platform. Lin Gan surveyed the sea of rain-soaked soldiers, satisfied. This was the spirit worthy of an ancient legion.

  “Comrades,” he said, voice carrying across the courtyard, “the Mother of Earth and the Thunder Eagle unit have fallen. The commander grieves beyond words. Let him rest these next days.

  “As of now, I declare the Watchers under Level One war readiness. We will not rest until every trace of those evil cultivators is eradicated.”

  The words rippled outward. Floating communicators relayed the order instantly. Engineers at magitech consoles and network hubs adjusted protocols without hesitation. At a single command, inner and outer defensive arrays would awaken in full hostile mode.

  “Elder Gan!” Fei’s voice cracked with fury from the front of the crowd. “Who is the traitor? Who killed my mother?”

  Restraint was the only thing keeping him from storming the building. As a member of the elite second investigation unit—hand-picked for exceptional skill in solving crimes within and beyond the camp—he could have demanded answers from anyone.

  No one would have blamed him for charging in to confront the commander about his mother’s fate. But like Rui Guo herself, Fei chose duty over personal rage.

  Lin Gan met the young man’s burning gaze, then swept his eyes across the expectant crowd. He could not speak for Iron Law.

  “Iron Law will uncover the truth,” he said quietly. “You will have your answer.”

  The mention of Iron Law calmed the warriors somewhat. Murmurs rose—some relieved, some nervous.

  Night watchmen huddled under eaves, rain dripping from their cloaks, tensed at the name. Everyone knew the prophetic elders could delve into minds, stripping away every lie. The judgment platform was feared for good reason.

  “Fei,” a voice called. “Elder Bai wants you.”

  Captain Li appeared at the command center doors, bowing respectfully.

  She glanced at the guard captain blocking the way, then up at Lin Gan on the platform.

  The guard knew he had no authority to overrule an elder. Like the watchmen, he dreaded the bald enforcers of Iron Law.

  At Lin Gan’s dismissive wave, Fei shot forward in a blur—too fast for the guard to react.

  Inside the wrecked hall, Fei froze. Captain Li sighed beside him and led him to Yue Yang.

  Yue Yang had finished assembling the stone fragments. Tears fell unchecked, splashing onto the gray surface.

  Fei followed the line of a petrified arm and saw the unmistakable tattoo—his mother’s mark. His gaze traveled upward to the face. Recognition hit like a hammer. Tears flooded his eyes.

  He dropped to his knees beside the remains. He remembered her words: If I die, I will become one with this land.

  An earth master’s root dispersed at death could turn the body to stone. Denial was impossible.

  Seeing the cracks, Fei pressed his palms to the fragments. Earth elemental energy flowed from him, gently binding the pieces together again, sealing the breaks as if refusing to let her be broken even in death.

  “Deputy Zhang,” Elder Bai said briskly, “seal the site. Full decontamination. And since you found the tainted herb, you will trace its origin.”

  Unauthorized content usage: if you discover this narrative on Amazon, report the violation.

  With that, she strode from the hall.

  Fei remained silent. He gathered the restored stone form into his arms—careful, reverent—and followed Elder Bai out.

  Wilderness troops, logistics personnel, sentries, old and young from the outer camp—all stood at respectful attention as he passed.

  From street to alley, silence reigned until Fei and the physicians vanished into the medical division.

  Lin Gan tilted his face to the rain. He had not wept for anyone in decades. Yet now, even his cold, calculating heart shed tears.

  He looked to the outer watchtowers, the sentries atop high walls, the logistics forces shifting into full alert, the usually free-spirited Wilderness warriors standing ready.

  The Watchers would endure. No matter how great the leader lost, the ancient mission continued.

  “Deputy Commander,” he called, voice carrying to the Wilderness ranks, “and all Wilderness brothers—the poaching season is at its peak. Spirit beasts are weak after birthing. Many will exploit that weakness.

  “I ask you to keep the greater good in mind. Guard our home.”

  The warriors stirred, focus returning.

  “Elder Gan speaks truly,” the deputy commander shouted. “You saw Deacon Wu lead the strike force himself. They will bring justice for Captain Guo!”

  As he spoke, a runner dashed up and whispered urgently in his ear.

  “Wilderness Legion!” the deputy bellowed. “Poachers sighted at the front—Level One alert!”

  At the command, the deputy led his forces aboard skimmers. They vanished into the rain-swept sky.

  Lin Gan raised his left hand toward the floating communicators. His fist closed.

  Around the entire camp, a magitech barrier shimmered into existence.

  From distant watchtowers and mountain signal fires, guards saw the air ripple over the base. A flock of birds flew into the field—and disintegrated into ash mid-flight.

  The Watchers were sealed. Ready for war.

  Awakening at the Gates

  At the foot of the towering walls encircling the Watchers’ outer perimeter, Ning Guo stood gazing in the direction the field skimmers had vanished, her heart heavy as stone.

  Years ago, to fulfill the artisan clans’ marriage alliance, she had taken her elder sister’s place and wed Shanhai Wu.

  After giving birth to their dragon-phoenix twins, Shanhai Wu had treated her with genuine affection—but Ning Guo always felt the difference. His love for her had never burned with the same fierce intensity he had shown her sister.

  Her communicator flickered with an electronic feed: Fei cradling Rui Guo’s petrified form as he carried her away.

  Memories surged—adventuring side by side with her sister, laughing in the face of danger, unbreakable. Ning Guo quietly brushed away the tears that slipped down her cheeks.

  Rui Guo’s husband, Yuan Yong, had been a warrior without equal—the one most likely to rise to chief scout. Ning Guo still remembered her sister’s words: in that desperate ambush, Yuan Yong had chosen to perish alongside the Flame Glory Nation’s warlord, carving a path of survival for her through sheer will.

  Regimental Commander Yang, his wife, and countless other leaders had fallen in the same encirclement campaign.

  The details remained shrouded. Families like the Guo clan and many smaller artisan lines lived in the outer districts; vital intelligence never reached them.

  “Captain Guo,” the artisan team leader called from behind, “trade hour has begun!”

  Ning Guo quickly closed the feed and straightened.

  Large-scale commerce happened only once a month. Warriors and families alike looked forward to it—stocking daily necessities, trading for magitech devices.

  She strode to the control room and pulled the lever. With a deep metallic groan, the massive chain bridge lowered, linking the fortified gate to the opposite shore.

  Merchants streamed across—some with pack animals laden with goods, others pulling carts. The bridge bustled with life.

  For them, the risks of crossing perilous lands were worth it. Beast spirit stones, rare herbs, bones, hides, exotic ores—any single haul from the Watchers’ spirit-rich haven could fetch fortunes in Heping Town or distant nations.

  Ning Guo activated her communicator. Green electromagnetic waves swept the air, scanning faces and cross-referencing the database.

  No prior registration, no entry. Unlisted attendants or unmarked caravans were halted firmly on the far bank by sentries.

  Approved merchants filed into the trade district in orderly fashion.

  Conversation flowed freely—until a sudden, powerful ripple of energy washed over everyone.

  Heads turned toward the distant outer walls. A shimmering aura pulsed into existence, vast and awe-inspiring.

  The sight lent even greater mystery and majesty to the already sacred Watchers legion.

  The trade zone lay a full kilometer from the core camp, shielded by mountains and walls, watched by towering sentry spires. From afar, the place felt untouchable.

  Merchants here knew better than to harbor ulterior motives. Losing access to this wealth would ruin them. For ease of oversight, they had even formed their own Commerce Association.

  Only vetted traders with long-standing ties to Watchers leadership were permitted entry.

  “Thanks to Deacon Wu’s guarantee,” an elderly merchant was saying nearby, “my eldest son got work inside the camp…”

  Ning Guo’s scanner finished its sweep—no anomalies. A red aura flashed three times in confirmation. The far gate sealed.

  She turned and caught one of her subordinates chatting with the old merchant—the very first permitted trader when the district opened years ago.

  For men his age, the Watchers territory was half a home. Without strict laws, many would have settled permanently.

  Ning Guo nodded permission. The subordinate waved the old man toward the administrative center.

  “Unload those fruits quickly,” the merchant instructed his men before entering. “Distribute them to the generals!”

  “Good to see you again, Captain Guo,” he called, smiling broadly. “Sorry to trouble you! Jun—hey, where’d that boy run off to?”

  While he spoke, his younger son had vanished.

  They spotted him soon enough—standing alone on the riverbank, long hair stirring in the breeze, staring intently at a massive shadow moving beneath the water.

  “Jun Zhao! Come here!” the old merchant shouted, hurrying over and grabbing his son’s arm. “Didn’t I tell you not to wander in the trade zone?”

  The boy jumped, startled.

  “Father—there’s a huge monster in the water!”

  He had noticed the anomaly from the bridge and spent the entire crossing peering around in fascination.

  “That’s no monster,” the artisan captain laughed, prying open a crate and pulling out a glistening fruit. Juice dripped as he bit in. “That’s a water-element beast. Old Zhao, these fruits are excellent—where’d you source them?”

  “Specialty from Cyan Essence Nation,” the merchant replied proudly. “Picked them especially for everyone here.”

  “Cyan Essence? Some new warlord state?”

  “Not quite. A small nation of rootless folk—nothing famous. Over ten thousand kilometers away, and you have to go by sea.”

  “That far?” The captain whistled. “Then I’ll savor it. Captain Guo—try one!”

  Ning Guo caught the fruit tossed her way with graceful poise. Unlike her sister’s bold, almost masculine energy, Ning Guo carried herself with quiet elegance. She passed it to a nearby guard without tasting it.

  “Captain Guo,” Old Zhao asked, gripping his son tightly as he approached, “is the legion running another test?”

  Ning Guo hesitated. Her gaze settled on the quiet boy beside him. A subtle, soothing energy radiated from him—calming, like a forest breeze.

  “President Zhao,” she said evenly, “Watchers business isn’t for outsiders. But Shanhai mentioned your younger son’s talent. He has special permission to enter the apprentice training camp.”

  Old Zhao knew better than to pry further. He pulled his son forward and pressed the boy’s head down in a deep bow.

  “My youngest is in your hands. I trust he’ll serve the Watchers loyally. Quick—greet Aunt Guo!”

  “Hello, Aunt Guo!” Jun Zhao said brightly, a warm smile lighting his face. A soft wooden-green elemental glow shimmered around his hands.

  “Growth-affinity wood element,” the artisan captain marveled, mouth full. “Old Zhao, what did you feed your wife? One son with rare wind, now wood—both exceptional! Hey—wait for me!”

  He dashed off toward the barracks.

  “Both your boys have bright futures,” Ning Guo said. “Mei! Qiang! Get over here!”

  At her call, two children facing the wall turned around. Though only fourteen, the twins were built like young oxen—twice Jun Zhao’s size.

  They wore apprentice leather armor. Raised under Ning Guo’s strict training, Mei—the girl—had short-cropped hair; Qiang’s was longer. Otherwise, the dragon-phoenix pair were identical.

  “Mother, I was wrong,” Mei muttered, head low, looking genuinely remorseful. “I shouldn’t have taken my brother to the mines.”

  “We didn’t take any ore!” Qiang insisted, still defiant after two hours of punishment.

  Ning Guo frowned. She snatched the leather satchel from her son’s back and upended it.

  Several glittering gemstones clattered to the ground, sparkling in the light.

  https://www.patreon.com/collection/1934633?view=expanded

  https://www.paypal.me/RocYangWriter(Note: PayPal is for tips only; early access is managed via Patreon.)