Business

Among the high cultivators of the Palace of Grand Beginning, there was no shortage of hands well versed in the art of war—Bao Yun, for instance. With her present, there was temporarily no need for Wei Yuan, a purported master of military strategy, to show off his expertise. How to position the mortal army was the foremost question. Ever since Qingming's divine wonder, Ephemeral Multitude, had been activated, Bao Yun had been pondering this matter, and by now she had formed a clear train of thought. "Assuming Ephemeral Multitude can last for thirty minutes, the role of ordinary mortals will be to counter ordinary Shaman soldiers. They are numerous, yet their combat prowess is mediocre. If our empowered mortals can trade one-for-one with them, that would be a tremendous victory." Though Shaman warriors were cannon fodder, cannon fodder were still warriors, not civilians. Only about one warrior emerged from every ten Shaman commoners. Meanwhile, the vast majority of humans within the realm domain were truly just mortals; without Ephemeral Multitude, a single Shaman warrior could handle over a dozen mortals with ease. If one mortal could be traded for one Shaman warrior, any renowned human general would wake from their dreams laughing. The physical strength of ordinary Shaman warriors was only equivalent to a human who had just entered Blood Merging—inferior to those of Northern Liao—so Bao Yun had devised an answer: firearms. Yet Xiaoyu said, "I think bows and arrows would be better. Once these mortals are empowered, they will be equivalent to Blood Merging cultivators, so drawing a bow will be effortless. Furthermore, since combat will only last thirty minutes, rapid volley fire won't be an issue, and arrows are more powerful than firearms." Bao Yun shook her head. "Bows are too expensive, and crafting them ourselves takes time. Moreover, archery requires training. Firearms don't—you just need to hold them steady and shoot." Xiaoyu nudged Cui Yu gently and asked in a low voice, "How long does it take to make a bow?" Cui Yu had commanded troops for years and knew military matters inside and out. He replied, "A top-grade bow takes over a decade; an ordinary one takes three to five years. And I'm talking about mundane bows, not dharma artifacts." Xiaoyu fell silent. Ji Liuli asked, "Then what kind of firearms should we equip them with?" Wei Yuan considered the timing of a potential Shaman attack and recalled the fighting over this past period. He said, "Time is extremely tight right now. Tens of thousands of mortals will arrive any moment, and the Shamans could strike back at any time. We can't afford anything intricate—the simpler and faster to manufacture, the better. I have a rough idea. It goes like this." Wei Yuan drew two diagrams of iron tubes, one large and one small. The larger was one and a half chi long and as thick as a fist. The smaller was one chi long, roughly the thickness of an apricot. The rear of the smaller iron tube had an extra touchhole with a fuse protruding from it. The large iron tube was intended for cultivators who, once empowered, reached late Body Casting; they could directly detonate the gunpowder with Dao power. The small iron tube was for true mortals; even empowered by Ephemeral Multitude, they possessed no Dao power, so they would need ordinary fire to ignite the powder. The two firearms differed in power as well: the former held half a sheng of gunpowder, while the latter could only take two teacups' worth. The ammunition had evolved as well—Wei Yuan's design called for iron shot wrapped in oiled paper. Using iron shot rather than refined iron balls was an inspiration Wei Yuan had drawn from the shotguns Xu Wenwu had spoken of. Such weapons required little aim; one merely had to blast in a general direction, making them ideal for mortals who couldn't even read. Furthermore, producing iron shot was exceptionally easy—it was merely the first step Ji Liuli had demonstrated the previous night while refining steel: crushing the ore, extracting the iron powder, clumping it into numerous small pellets, and fusing them briefly with flame. There was no need at all for the subsequent steps of smelting, purifying impurities, or balancing material properties. Given the massive quantity of iron shot required, eliminating a step or two would vastly boost production, and the Dao power consumed would be less than a tenth of what was needed to refine iron bullets. As for the firearms themselves, Wei Yuan felt bare iron tubes were plenty; there was no need for fancy flourishes. At most, the mortals could wrap some cloth around them to keep their grip from slipping. As the realm lord, even Wei Yuan himself merely used two steel pipes capped with spearheads, so there was certainly no need for mortals to be picky. Wei Yuan planned to equip each mortal with two iron tubes. When battle commenced and the distance closed, they would fire. Wounding a Shaman was a gain, and killing one was a massive win. After firing two shots, the lines would likely collide into melee, at which point it was time to hack away with blades. The overwhelming majority of mortals were untrained farmers, so even with the empowerment, discharging two shots before clashing was about all one could hope for. Those Wei Yuan truly pinned high hopes on were the cultivators who had already completed Blood Merging and could reach late Body Casting through the blessing. Anyone who had cultivated Body Casting up to Blood Merging had essentially undergone combat training, so Wei Yuan assigned them the larger iron tubes, expecting them to counter the Shamans' backbone units, such as venomous lizard riders and armored warriors. Battles involving the Dao Foundation realm and above would still follow each cultivator's accustomed style. The greatest issue with gunpowder weapons was their lack of punch. Wei Yuan's own steel spear shafts were packed full of gunpowder, yet their blast could inflict only minor injuries on a dharma idol. While the effect on Dao Foundation cultivators was fairly noticeable, that still relied on Wei Yuan first piercing their armor and defenses with his spear before the powder could deal meaningful damage to their flesh. Therefore, the many fancy weapons Xu Wenwu proposed—such as machine guns—fell on deaf ears among the high cultivators. No matter how high the rate of fire, against a physique like Wei Yuan's, it was nothing more than a massage. Gunpowder, however, truly solved the crucial dilemma of arming mortals—it simply required enormous quantities. In terms of compounding gunpowder, Ji Liuli had initially been the sole expert, but now they had Sun Yu as well. When it came to pharmacology and compounding, Sun Yu might not match the Monastery of Creation, but he was far superior to amateurs from places like the Hall of Heavenly Secrets. Over the past two days, Sun Yu had also finished reading Xu Wenwu's writings. After listening to everyone discuss gunpowder for a long time, he said, "As I see it, the principle of gunpowder is nothing more than rapid expansion upon ignition, propelling a projectile to inflict damage. The more a sheng of gunpowder expands and the faster it ignites, the greater its power. When lit with a fuse, the powder burns progressively from the touchhole to the rest, so the expansion lags a step behind. But detonating it with Dao power ignites every portion simultaneously, producing a faster expansion and far greater force." Except for Ji Liuli, who had produced the gunpowder, none of the others had considered it in such detail; their thoughts on improvement had focused solely on proportions, uniform granulation, and balancing material properties. Sun Yu continued, "Thus, boosting its power comes down to two aspects: expanding further and burning faster. I came up with a formula and tweaked it slightly." Sun Yu took a pinch of gunpowder, added a spoonful of white powder, and ignited it with Dao power. With a loud boom, flames blasted straight toward the ceiling, possessing at least fifty percent more force than before! Wei Yuan's eyes lit up, but after asking about the recipe, his gaze dimmed again. Two of the ingredients in Sun Yu's powder were rather precious medicines; that single spoonful alone cost more than several dan of ordinary gunpowder. Equipping tens of thousands of mortals would consume gunpowder by the tens of thousands of jin. Even a slight price increase would mean a staggering hemorrhage of silver. Sun Yu, however, had not developed this formula for mortals; he had done so purely to increase its lethality so gunpowder could remain effective at the Dao Foundation realm. He adjusted the ratio once more, this time using a one-to-one mix of the powder and gunpowder. As a result, its power doubled. This instantly piqued everyone's interest. With this level of destructive force, if Xiaoyu's hollow dharma sword were filled with powder, the gunpowder alone could pierce low-grade artifact armor. Were it loaded into Wei Yuan's spear, it could penetrate middle-grade artifact armor as well. Sun Yu added, "At its core, the principle of gunpowder is nothing more than burning faster and expanding greater. If that is the principle, why must we limit ourselves to gunpowder? Can Dao power not expand? Can dharma treasures not expand? Countless things in this world can expand in an instant—all of them can be viewed as gunpowder. As the saying goes, the Great Dao is simple." Wei Yuan felt as though enlightened by divine insight, his thoughts broadening instantly. He immediately began simulating it within his Dao Foundation. A moment later, he brought out a golden tripod cauldron with the tip of a miniature pagoda protruding from its mouth. The cauldron was long and narrow, shaped rather oddly. Wei Yuan angled the cauldron toward the roof. With a loud bang, a four-tiered miniature pagoda shot from the vessel, blasting a gaping hole through the ceiling. Seeing this, the others felt inspiration flooding in. They dispersed, each heading off to pursue their own experiments. Wei Yuan estimated that the small lake beneath the peak must have taken shape by now, so he went down to inspect it. The spot where he had placed the jade bowl had expanded into several zhang of water about two chi deep, with over a hundred colored stones glistening at the bottom. The surface rippled, gleaming with faint shimmers of light; viewed from afar, it resembled a luminescent lake—truly a paradise on earth. Using Dao techniques to excavate earth and dissolve stone, Wei Yuan built an irrigation canal leading to the herb garden. Once the lake filled completely, water would flow naturally into the plots. There were also two Celestial Star Nightshade plants in the herb garden, considered top-grade among Dao Foundation spiritual flora. Originally, Wei Yuan had planted both: one to grow naturally, and the other secretly imbued with karmic luck and entrusted to Xu Wenwu's care. Now, Wei Yuan could clearly sense that the naturally growing one brimmed with vigorous vitality; it would sprout within days. The one tended by Xu Wenwu, however, possessed an obscure, heavy aura, its life force currently less than half that of the natural plant. Clearly, an unpredictable mutation was taking place. Wei Yuan did not yet know whether this change boded well or ill. But even if it developed favorably, he had nearly exhausted his supply of otherworldly fortune. As he fretted over this, Wei Yuan suddenly recalled something: what about the bestowal of heaven and earth for slaying Blood Eye? Why was there still no movement after so long? Although Qingming intercepted all bestowals of heaven and earth, Qingming was now Wei Yuan and Wei Yuan was Qingming; it made no difference who received them. What was more, as Qingming was nurtured and the realm domain expanded, the range within which Wei Yuan could operate grew dramatically as well. With Qingming's domain at one hundred and fifteen li, Wei Yuan could travel up to eleven thousand li away, with his strength only beginning to decline past five thousand li. In other words, his combat prowess had increased across the entire Shattered Lands; while he couldn't venture far beyond, he could walk unchallenged right on his doorstep. The bestowals of heaven and earth were enigmatic and unpredictable. Knowing haste would accomplish nothing, he could only wait. Several days passed in a flash, and the sacrificial human offerings resold by the Xu family were delivered to the realm domain. The sacrifices were transported in specially built carriages, over fifty in all. The carriage bodies were sealed airtight, with even the ventilation slits cut along the undercarriage. When Wei Yuan arrived, Cui Yu had already led his men to park the carriages in a clearing beside the woods. This area was far from the mortal towns and saw no cultivator traffic, making it secluded and quiet. Three of the carriages bore a mark stenciled in blue paint—the insignia of a superior sacrifice. Wei Yuan approached a carriage and slashed open its door with his sword. Inside was a grid of compartments, each two chi square, lining one side of the carriage. Every compartment held a person, feet tucked inside and head facing outward. A single carriage held forty people in total. All lay quietly in their cubicles, breathing faintly. Wei Yuan swept his divine sense over them and found their seas of consciousness virtually unguarded, open to entry at will. Yet faint light flickered within their consciousness seas, where various Dao Foundations could be glimpsed drifting, their glow dim, barely sustaining their cultivation. This entire wagon consisted of Dao Foundation cultivators, though all possessed Mortal Tier Dao Foundations. Wei Yuan ordered the carriage dismantled and the captives carried out one by one, laying them on the nearby grass. Their hair and beards had all been shaved off, and they wore only coarse linen tunics with nothing underneath, though their bodies had been washed clean. According to Xu Jingfeng, they had been fed stupor-inducing drugs before transit, which kept them unconscious for ten days. That way, they caused no trouble along the road, nor did they require food or water. Each carriage took two spare horses, allowing drivers and horses to rest in shifts while the wagons rolled without pause, covering several thousand li in a single push. Aside from the three carriages of superior sacrifices, the remaining captives were afforded far worse conditions. Their cubicles were much smaller; burly men had been shoved in by force, packing over sixty into a single carriage. They, too, were shaved clean, washed, and scented with spices so that no foul odor lingered in the wagons. From his very first day in the Western Regions, Wei Yuan had heard countless mentions of the human head business. Yet only now, looking at these people processed so cleanly, stacked so neatly, and observing the sheer efficiency that could move thousands of human lives across thousands of li in one go, did the word "business" truly hit home. Just how many people had they transported over the years to establish such a concise, efficient protocol?