Before dawn the next day, hurried chimes rang out across the colossal vessel. Wei Yuan awoke from meditation, sprang up, and rushed toward the War Preparation Hall. The urgent tolling was the signal for emergency muster—everyone had to arrive at the hall within thirty breaths.
A grim, solemn chill permeated the War Preparation Hall. Supplies were already piled high inside: small mountains of crates stacked on the left, standard-issue armor and weapons arranged on the right.
Master Liu, the vessel's overseer, had traded his usual Daoist robes for a suit of armor, transforming from cultured and genial to brimming with killing intent. Once everyone was assembled, Master Liu waved a broad hand, conjuring a massive map behind him. It was rendered in meticulous detail, depicting nine counties and over a hundred scattered villages.
"Our vessel is tasked with defending the western half of Bianning Commandery, which encompasses five hundred thousand households and five thousand border troops. These are your assigned defense sectors—commit them to memory."
A dense array of information appeared across the map. Wei Yuan quickly located his defense sector, which comprised three villages arranged in a triangular cluster. Border villages were typically fortified with ramparts, essentially serving as walled forts. Wei Yuan also committed the others' sectors to memory, as did his peers; for cultivators with accomplished Spirit Refinement, total recall was second nature.
"Now, come forward and collect your supplies. Military provisions are on the left; each person is to carry three crates. Armor and weapons are on the right; choose your own. Oh, and this old Daoist will add one piece of advice: unless you come from a great clan, you had best swap your robes for armor! Barring top-grade pieces, any lesser robe is far less useful on the battlefield than solid armor. Besides, dressing all flashy on the battlefield—do you want to be living targets?"
Wei Yuan went to collect his provisions, armor, and weapons, then returned to his quarters to don them. An hour later, the chimes sounded again, and Wei Yuan made his way to the compartments below the deck. Several small skiffs were docked side by side, and the open area was packed with young cultivators clad in armor and carrying packs. Armored Daoists shouted over the clamor, shoving the cultivators into the skiffs one by one.
Looking back, Wei Yuan saw Zhang Sheng standing quietly in the shadows outside the hatch, watching him. Wei Yuan waved vigorously, slung the three bundled crates of supplies onto his back, and headed toward his assigned skiff.
A burly armored Daoist barked nonstop, "Hurry it up! Get aboard! The Liao barbarians aren't going to wait until you arrive before making their move!"
The skiff's hatch sat half a zhang above the floor. Just as Wei Yuan prepared to leap inside, his body went weightless—the burly Daoist had seized him and shoved him right through the entrance.
The skiff was barely five zhang long and extremely cramped inside. With everyone suited in armor and hauling packs, packing a dozen or so inside left no room to move. A young man dressed in robes was aboard; he alone had refused to put on armor. As a result, he was jostled on all sides by fellow disciples who looked like iron cans, his face flushed red with indignation he couldn't vent.
Wei Yuan squeezed into a corner and sat against the bulkhead, finding it bearable enough. Suddenly, the skiff jolted violently, flinging everyone toward the stern, followed by a dizzying sensation of soaring through the clouds. The robed youth tumbled several times through the air and finally couldn't hold it in any longer, retching aloud. A burst of Dao force materialized from somewhere, enveloping the vomit and hurling it outside the vessel.
The skiff surged like a wild horse broken from its reins, leaping and pitching through the air and putting everyone through sheer misery. When a few short-tempered cultivators began to grumble, a booming, gruff voice cut through the cabin: "If this Daoist dared to fly in a straight line, we'd be shot down in under three breaths! You think the Liao barbarians' great bows are just for show? Feeling sick? Even if you're sick, you'll endure it for your Daoist grandpa! This is a battlefield, not your family garden! Whoever the fuck can't stomach it can get the hell off right now!"
Everyone fell silent, and those who had been complaining clamped their mouths shut. According to the traditions of the Palace of Grand Beginning, the worst disgrace on the battlefield was to be branded a coward who feared death or shrank from hardship.
The skiff finally arrived at its destination. It plunged almost straight down for a hundred zhang before smacking against the ground with a loud bang, which served as its landing.
The hatch swung open, and Wei Yuan leaped out of the skiff along with the other cultivators.
The skiff sat on a drill ground, and judging from the surroundings, it was a military camp. According to the pre-departure plan, the skiff Wei Yuan took was to land at the Quyang County military camp. Of the eleven people aboard, five were assigned to defend Quyang, while six were assigned to neighboring Pingyang County. The moment the last person set foot on the ground, the skiff shot into the sky as if kicked from behind, disappearing in a flash without lingering for even a moment.
The six disciples bound for the neighboring county conferred briefly. The robed youth tossed out several talismans, and tall steeds instantly materialized before them. Mounting the horses, the six dashed off toward Pingyang.
Wei Yuan and the other four filed into the command tent. The so-called command tent was actually a cluster of earthen rooms, dimly illuminated by tallow candles. A few soldiers stood inside, and behind a desk sat a colonel with a fleshy, flabby chin. Seeing the group enter, he rose at once and cupped his hands. "At last, the revered immortals have arrived! With immortals from the Palace of Grand Beginning presiding over the situation, what waves could a few measly barbarians possibly make?"
A young Palace cultivator frowned. "Cut the chatter. We must reach our defense posts before the deadline! Are you Wang Delu?"
"This humble general indeed!"
"Some of my subordinates will be arriving later. Issue clearance passes for them when they arrive."
Wang Delu's face instantly creased into a broad smile. "Rest assured, Immortal! This humble general will see it done without fail!"
"Then I'll take my leave first!" The young man did not linger for a second, turning and striding out of the tent.
"Immortal, wait! There are still the assigned troops and rations!"
"No need!"
Wang Delu sat back down behind the desk with an awkward smile and asked, "Do the rest of you revered immortals also have personal retainers or house guards?"
One disciple replied, "I have ten personal guards arriving tomorrow."
"Understood! This humble general will take care of it."
The disciple nodded and left the tent as well.
The remaining two disciples exchanged a glance. One said, "Neither of us has personal retainers. We'll trouble General Wang to assign us some capable men." As he spoke, he placed two bars of immortal silver onto the desk.
Unfazed, Wang Delu swept his sleeve across the desk, and the immortal silver vanished in a smooth, practiced motion. He immediately picked up a bronze command tally, handed it to an orderly beside him, and said, "Take the two revered immortals to select their men!"
Finally, it was Wei Yuan's turn. Wei Yuan had seen the two disciples' little exchange, but unfortunately, he didn't have half a tael of immortal silver on him, nor had Zhang Sheng instructed him on this. Besides, they had come to defend the border for Western Jin—why should they have to pay silver?
Wei Yuan stepped up to the desk and cupped his hands. "Wei Yuan of the Palace of Grand Beginning, here to receive my assigned troops."
Wang Delu waited for a moment. Seeing no immortal silver forthcoming, and noting that Wei Yuan brought no personal retainers, his expression cooled. His gaze fell upon the three crates slung across Wei Yuan's back, and he drawled, "These crates of yours, Immortal..."
"Those are military supplies issued by the palace, meant for the defending troops."
Seeing that Wei Yuan had no intention of setting the crates down, Wang Delu's expression turned thoroughly sour. He pulled out a wooden command tally, handed it to an orderly, and said, "Take the immortal to select his men."
Wei Yuan followed the orderly toward the side camp. According to protocol, Wei Yuan was entitled to receive twenty garrison troops and a hundred militiamen from the Quyang garrison barracks to serve as his base defense force. By Great Tang law, garrison soldiers were expected to reach the Sinew and Muscle Realm; those who managed to cultivate to Blood Merging could serve as squad leaders and qualify to join the Nine Armies of Great Tang. The enfeoffed states followed the same standards as Great Tang. To become a colonel, one had to form a Dao Foundation.
Wang Delu was indeed in the Dao Foundation Realm, but his aura was unsteady and his physique somewhat flabby. His Dao Foundation was likely of low rank, and he had evidently indulged in wine and women to the point where even his physical body had deteriorated.
The side camp consisted of two rows of low earthen hovels. Clothes hung drying outside, and weapons and armor lay carelessly piled by the walls. The camp drill ground was pitted and uneven, visibly run-down from years of neglect. Two carts sat in a corner of the camp, both missing a wheel.
The orderly bellowed at the top of his lungs, "An immortal has come to pick soldiers! Everyone out!"
Chapter 64