The Meeting

Barking like a dog. Ji Jue paid it no mind, his eyes cast downward. Like a civil servant sitting through a bureaucratic conference, he clutched a fountain pen and a notebook, appearing thoroughly engrossed in recording the minutes and absorbing the directives. And just like that, he began doodling little turtles across the pages. Practicing diligently, he vowed that one day he would surpass that slacker Ye Chun! As for Tianlu... Hm? Did such a person even exist? In his eyes, what difference was there between that man and a barking hound? He had never imagined that the first time he reached the highest heights of the Association, the first time he attended a meeting in the Hall of Radiance—after two dreamlike joys converged into one—he would end up doodling little turtles. So what if he did? He might as well draw a few more. Just like the vast majority of institutional conferences—or rather, even more rambling and convoluted than most official meetings, as if trying to make up for Tianlu's ancient regret of never having passed the imperial civil service exam—once Tianlu started his dog barking, it went on without end, composed entirely of long, intricate sentences. Recalling the past, looking to the future, tracing origins, seeking profound meaning... It was enough to make one drool in boredom. "Young man, it's better to pay more attention." A low, murmured reminder sounded right by his ear, making Ji Jue's eyelids twitch as he looked across the table. There sat an old man leaning on a walking stick, who appeared utterly absorbed in listening to the instructions. The last disciple of Grandmaster Scavenger, the master of the Empire's largest workshop, Clock Tower—he was the Clock Tower itself. Now, as Ji Jue looked over, Clock Tower's gaze shifted slightly, darting an imperceptible glance back at him. It was mostly because Ji Jue had been doodling his little turtles so intently that by the end, he had practically begun sketching the old dog himself... which was a bit too outrageous. Ji Jue's pen paused momentarily, and he nodded. "Thank you for the reminder, sir. And I haven't yet thanked you for looking out for me." When he crossed back across the boundary between the Profound and Tianshu, he had sensed an aura within Tianshu that flashed and vanished in an instant. From beginning to end, Clock Tower had stood watch from the sidelines, deterring the artisans of the Profound and ready to intervene the moment the situation deteriorated. "It was just in passing, nothing worth mentioning." Clock Tower shot him a meaningful look. "Did your teacher not come?" "Her research has reached a critical stage, so the disciple must bear the toil on her behalf." "How wonderful, how truly wonderful." The old man smiled faintly, sighing with feigned emotion. For such a wholesome, normal master-disciple relationship to appear in your lineage is practically unnatural. "When you have free time, come play more with the kids from my workshop." "Certainly, will do." "Oi, old fossil, what are you whispering about?" Despina the Veterinarian's voice suddenly rang out through the covert communication channel. "Where's the will-o'-the-wisp you promised me last time? Remember to leave it downstairs at my place." "Next time for sure, next time for sure," the old man brushed her off immediately. "Young man, don't spend all your time hanging around old fossils; you'll catch their old-man smell." 'Miss' Despina glanced toward Ji Jue with a half-smile. "Little Aignu told me you're always messaging him. Why don't you ever come ask big sister for advice? I was the one who introduced him to the basics of vitalistics, you know." "Master Despina, how many years ago was... *cough, cough*, never mind." Aignu cut in, his voice trailing off awkwardly. Despina smiled, about to reply, when another voice chimed in. "Tricking kids again, old auntie? Don't smile so wide, or your makeup will cake in your wrinkles." "You'd better watch your mouth, Zhao." Despina's gaze sharpened into daggers. "Eyy! Old Zhao, you've gone too far! Where is there any old auntie? All I see is a big sister who will forever be eighteen!" "Holy crap, there are experts among us?" "...The Association is simply too suffocating." "Wait, can't you people read the room?" "Read the room for what? Why don't you go tell the Grandmaster to get to the point? Think he'll give a damn about you?" "That's about enough from you lot." [Sweating Soy Bean.jpg] Ji Jue was rendered utterly speechless. With the old dragon Clock Tower taking the lead, more and more people logged into the hidden communication channel, which quickly grew lively. Even though absolute gravity and stone-faced solemnity draped over the conference table, the private chatter was an uproar of noisy banter. Evidently, everyone was long accustomed to Tianlu's style. Outwardly, the attending masters wore expressions of solemn majesty, but privately, they were practically cracking open melon seeds. The leader droned on up front while everyone gossiped in the group chat. Every single person eligible to attend this meeting was a master, yet in just a few short minutes, they had already developed custom sticker packs and anonymous posting functions. A few trolls were already fanning the flames. Ji Jue's face twitched repeatedly, words failing him. He dared not utter a sound. He lowered his head and focused on drawing turtles. Until a resounding slap suddenly struck the table. "Good!" Tianlu adopted a solemn expression, declaring with profound gravity, "Since no one has any objections, then so be it!" [???] For a moment, everyone was dumbfounded. *Wait, did we miss a chunk of the plot?* *You bastard, what the hell did you just decide?!* While the younger generation looked at one another in utter bewilderment, the old fossils let out helpless sighs. Fine. They had been played by this old... Grandmaster yet again. Give him credit for putting on a show of democracy, calling out names around the table, and giving the Association a token sense of participation. Unlike the other paths of Summum Bonum, the hereditary honorific of Tianlu could practically be considered the earthly vicar of the Embers. Across generations of succession, this title had drawn infinitely close to the seat of the Director-General of Summum Bonum. He was, without a shadow of a doubt, an admin-level tyrant. Not only could he effortlessly take over the earthly manifestations of the Embers, but he could even meddle with the connection between any artisan and the Embers—weakening it without limit, or outright severing it entirely. Even though he had never once exercised this power, everyone was well aware that he simply lacked the interest, not the ability. In a sense, matters concerning the Embers were his to decide with a single word. Everyone present merely needed to nod and sign off on it; they wouldn't even be granted the opportunity to voice dissent. Yet this was also the uniform defect and weakness shared by every generation of Tianlu, and indeed by all artisans: they valued the meaning of the title far more than its practical authority. As the undisputed strongest beneath the Embers, if one ever stooped so low as to rely on the administrative privileges of Tianlu to confront another artisan, it would prove that one was no longer worthy of the title. The power that ambitious men dreamed of was, to successive generations of Tianlu, merely a meaningless, useless trinket. And now, just as if he were restoring that power to all present, he chose to entrust the contest between Embers and Stagnant Rot to the Association. "Since this is a war between the Association and the Profound, the crux lies not with the grandmasters, but with all of you gathered here today," Tianlu said resolutely. "Matters having come to this, that old tortoise Elder Zhen will not show his face. Whatever I can accomplish alone remains limited. "The supremacy between Embers and Stagnant Rot must ultimately be decided between the Association and the Profound." The moment the words were spoken, following a brief silence, a low commotion rippled through the hall. The last decisive battle between Embers and Stagnant Rot had taken place more than two centuries ago—far too distant for the new generation of artisans. The old fossils who already understood the nature of this struggle remained composed, but the 'youngsters' who had risen to prominence in recent decades could not help but pale slightly. Then, they saw Tianlu's hand. As that hand slowly lifted, a massive projection of the entire mortal world materialized above the table. Following it, patches of shadowed blotches scattered across the Thousand Islands, and even rooted within the Federation and the Empire, emerged like mold, twisting and entangling the mortal world in countless threads. Where thousands of these filaments converged, a towering Pillar of Perdition rose straight from the earth—the creation of Stagnant Rot that all had witnessed with their own eyes! The colossal pillar currently straddling the sea and sky was, in essence, merely a symptom. The true root of the ailment lay in the countless spreading 'mold spots'—the aberrations of perdition that had quietly sprouted and proliferated from the hearts of men over hundreds of years. If the root remained untreated, chopping down one Pillar of Perdition would only cause two more to grow in its place... Even now, the perdition of the four seas of the mortal realm continued to gather. Nurtured by the quintessence of the Great Sin, the total erosion of the mortal world was only a matter of time. The scope involved was simply too vast. Merely securing leadership and jurisdiction over this crisis from all the various worldly factions had already drained the Association's utmost efforts. The current erosion of the Profound and the Pillar of Perdition were rooted in the worldly sin of stagnant rot and downfall. Once the seeds were buried and sprouted, they grew uncontrollably like an invasive species. It was not that no solution existed for such a predicament, but rather that no solution could be called completely safe. Sickness strikes like a landslide, but leaves like drawing silk. How could the tangled, myriad webs of the mortal world be severed in one clean stroke? Residual attachments and intractable entanglements were the natural order of things. Of course, the most secure method would be for the Association to step forward, once again intervene in the workings of the mortal realm, take over every affected contaminated zone, and thoroughly eradicate the roots of perdition... If they simply burned away every contaminated zone in the entire world, the problem would naturally resolve itself. Unfortunately, that was neither possible nor permissible. If the Association could pull that off, it wouldn't be called the Ring of Taiyi; it might as well be called the Ring of the Mortal World. The Federation and the Empire would be nothing more than dogs by the wayside. Not even the ancient Pillar of Tianyuan had possessed such power. As for the easiest method, it was... suppression. Disregard the consequences, blockade the entire sea territory, forcefully invoke the authority of the Lock, and seal the entire Pillar of Perdition away behind closed doors and iron padlocks. Leave it alone because dealing with it is too much trouble. It was the simplest approach and took the least effort, yet it also carried endless future catastrophes... The moment the seal completely broke, the Pillar of Perdition—having built up immense momentum—would punch a gaping hole between the mortal world and the Vortex, dragging everyone down together. The best strategy was unfeasible, and the worst strategy was useless. Only the middle course remained. Since it was formed through sin, it could naturally be dismantled through virtue. If Elder Zhen sought to use this to execute the Mutual Transmutation of Virtue and Vice, then the Association could reverse the process—and transmute even more! As for how to transmute and transform it... behind it lay a complete, rigorous, and feasible set of theories and methods. Explaining it would sound exceedingly complex, but two previous clashes between Embers and the Profound had already proven the reliability of the method. To put it simply, it boiled down to a single word: *Kill*! Wasn't that how every duel between Embers and the Profound went? Embers slaughtered Stagnant Rot; the Association slaughtered the Profound. The more killed, the better. This convergence and clash between Embers and Stagnant Rot was precisely the opportune moment for virtue to wax while vice waned, like an offering of sacrifice... As long as enough corrupted artisans perished, wouldn't that wretched Pillar of Perdition crumble naturally on its own? Even Stagnant Rot itself would be weakened once again. And vice versa. Having fought so many times, both sides had even established a formal protocol. It was almost like an Exemplar War from the Age of Chaos—both sides delivered formal challenges, finalized rosters, picked an auspicious date, deployed their forces, and squared off. One-on-one duels. Absolute fairness and impartiality had to be ensured: before stepping onto the stage, poisons and curses were strictly forbidden. Aside from the two combatants, no third party could intervene, and no hidden strings could pull the puppets from behind... Ji Jue flipped through the protocol handed to him, his brow arching slightly. Truth be told, it didn't look like a war; it looked more like a grand tournament for the world's foremost artisan. Unfortunately, it was nowhere near as civilized, nowhere near as benevolent, and the survival rate was drastically lower. All those seemingly redundant formalities and numerous restrictions existed solely to maximize the efficiency of the Mutual Transmutation of Virtue and Vice, ensuring that the cruelty of the battle allowed no room for compromise. No draws, no negotiations, no compromises. Once the duel commenced, both combatants naturally fought as proxies for Embers and Stagnant Rot. That being so, between the two who entered the ring, one had to die! Even the slightest possibility of revival meant the fight was not over! Even if one's creations were shattered, one's spiritus drained dry, and one stood at death's door, as long as a single breath remained, one had to lunge forward and throttle the enemy to death. If the fingernails broke, use the fingers; if the fingers snapped, use teeth to tear out the enemy's throat. Without blades, one would not hesitate to sharpen their own arm bones to plunge into the opponent's heart! Even if life was extinguished, the soul must be used to curse, discarding one's own existence just to drag the enemy down into the abyss together. Casting aside all pretexts of reason, pure supremacy determined victory and defeat. Disregarding notions of virtue and vice, relative strength defined righteousness and evil. This was the true essence of the Duel of Embers and the Profound. For an artisan, could there be any spectacle more captivating or more natural than this? "The meeting is adjourned." Tianlu finally rose, speaking slowly, "Rest well today and make full preparations. "Starting tomorrow, the Duel of Embers and the Profound officially begins. The division between righteousness and evil, the contention between virtue and sin, the contest of supremacy between the Association and the Profound—it all rests upon you." In the dead silence, no one spoke. Only an earth-shattering boom erupted as the dim sky outside the window abruptly turned pitch-black. Across the vaulted heavens, endless stars fell like burning kindling, and the heavenly furnace overturned. Amidst the inky dark above the vast sea, wisps of jade-green fire flared, gathering boundless perdition into a crucible. The fire at the crucible's core opened like an eye, staring coldly upon all creation. Spurred on by Tianlu and Elder Zhen, Embers and Stagnant Rot gradually manifested, bearing witness to all. A duel between you and me—to the death!