A Pawn's Passage

In the face of overwhelming superiority in weaponry and organization, numerical advantage and individual bravery were not enough to turn the tide of battle.

Maeda Masao quickly realized why the contingent in Hisai Castle had ended in complete annihilation.

Against heavy artillery, even Xiantian Beings below the Guizhen stage would struggle to survive, let alone Houtian Beings. The blow to morale was no less devastating than when they faced the Black Robes Heavy Cavalry.

The blood qi of Martial Arts Practitioners specifically countered illusory techniques and could also suppress yin energy and resentment.

But firearms were inanimate objects, supremely yang and unyielding. A Martial Arts Practitioner’s blood qi had no effect on them, even if amassed to the level of a Manly Immortal on the battlefield, unable to block cannon fire. Ironically, the methods suppressed by blood qi, such as the Banished Immortals’ Joyous Cloud Shield, could withstand firearms entirely.

Tens of thousands of samurai charged en masse toward the defensive lines Spirit Guard Jia Shen had long prepared, like countless living targets, awaiting harvest at will.

The thunder of cannons rolled on without pause.

Spirit Guard Jia Shen stood on a vantage point, using a telescope to observe the battlefield.

Beside him, Li Zhuyu said, “Deputy Commander Jia Chen and his Black Robes Heavy Cavalry will enter the field any moment now. Maeda Masao has lost this gamble.”

“From the moment he put his wager, his defeat was sealed,” Spirit Guard Jia Shen replied expressionlessly, not even lowering the telescope. “If it were merely a difference in arms, it might be remedied. But these Sonno-joi rabble are nothing more than a disorderly mob. They are brave, but they fight separately, without coordination or organization. Even without the disparity in firearms, they would never be our match.”

Li Zhuyu produced an official document. “By order of the Sage Commander, we are to accept the surrender of the Sonno-joi faction after victory. But we must carefully screen and distinguish them.”

Spirit Guard Jia Shen was unsurprised. This had long been the established policy of both the Qizhou headquarters and the Xiujing field camp so as to win over the hearts of the Fenglin people.

“I understand,” Spirit Guard Jia Shen said evenly. “That is, provided they survive long enough to surrender.”

Li Zhuyu fell silent for a moment. A compass-looking rapid post talisman rested in her hands. The battlefield’s chaotic mix of blood qi and death qi severely hindered the use of mother-child talismans, so the more reliable rapid post talisman had to be used for communication.

Suddenly, Li Zhuyu announced, “We’ve just received word. Katsura Yoshiyuki is dead.”

For once, there was a slight shift in expression on Spirit Guard Jia Shen’s uncovered face. “How did he die?”

“Katsura Yoshiyuki was heavily wounded by the Sage Commander and had never fully recovered. His cultivation was also greatly diminished. He was jointly slain by Deputy Hall Master Qi and Deputy Commander Jia Chen,” Li Zhuyu replied.

Spirit Guard Jia Shen lowered the telescope he had been holding all this time and murmured, “The same Deputy Hall Master Qi as before?”

Li Zhuyu nodded. “Yes, it was him. I’ve long said that you mustn’t underestimate this man, Deputy Commander. Even setting aside those backing him, he’s quite capable. The noble daughter of the Zhang family agreed to marry him. The Sage Commander and Junior Imperial Preceptor both admire him, not to mention Sage Cihang and Sage Donghua. Even the Imperial Preceptor and the Heavenly Preceptor have met him in person.”

Spirit Guard Jia Shen stroked his chin. “That’s strange. As a member of the Quanzhen Sect and raised in the Wanxiang Daoist Palace, he has never met the Earthly Preceptor?”

Li Zhuyu replied, “I find that strange as well. But in my impression, the Earthly Preceptor is indeed the most reclusive of the three Deputy Grand Masters. I myself have met the Heavenly Preceptor and Imperial Preceptor but have never met the Earthly Preceptor.”

Spirit Guard Jia Shen furrowed his brow and fell into silence.

Elsewhere, not long after Qi Xuansu picked up the Monohoshizao, the Black Robes Heavy Cavalry arrived.

Naturally, they recognized Qi Xuansu’s attire and did not attack him.

Qi Xuansu spread his wings once more, soaring into the air to follow the Black Robes Heavy Cavalry toward the battlefield.

From above, the Black Robes Heavy Cavalry resembled a black blade, thrusting straight into the flank of Maeda Masao’s army.

Maeda Masao had never held absolute confidence. At best, it was only 50%, which was why he called it a gamble. But his misjudgment of the cavalry’s speed, compounded by the sudden death of Katsura Yoshiyuki, shrank that 50% to even less.

By now, Maeda Masao would be fortunate to claim even 20% odds of victory.

As the commander of the Sonno-joi faction, Maeda Masao peered through his telescope and saw the samurai surge like a tide toward the enemy lines, only to fall in swathes, flung aside, then ebb away like a retreating tide, leaving corpses strewn across the battlefield.

As a general, Maeda Masao knew well that there was little chance of victory at this stage of the battle.

In fact, before the battle even began, he had already prepared for failure. After all, military doctrine stated that before considering victory, one must first plan for defeat.

From the standpoint of the battlefield, tactical success could not conceal strategic failure.

The grand strategy itself was not wrong. Stalling and awaiting change until the Daoist army fractured internally would have been the moment to throw off its control. But the timing of the war had been chosen poorly.

The Daoist Order was at the cusp of change but not yet divided. They still reached a consensus and were especially united against outsiders. If the Sonno-joi faction had waited until the Daoist Order truly split, they might have faced pressure from only one sect, or perhaps the Daoist Order would not have cared about Fenglin altogether. But as it stood, they faced the full force of a united Daoist Order. Therefore, defeat was inevitable.

On the other hand, the smaller groups within the Sonno-joi alliance were far too numerous and loosely aligned. The radicals—wandering ronin who opposed the Daoists—and moderates—court nobles who supported the Emperor—were two fundamentally different groups, each representing different interests and positions. They were forced to unite only by a common enemy. The entanglements were so complicated that even Maeda Masao could not fully make sense of them.

But Maeda Masao had always suspected that the Daoist Order had spies buried within the Sonno-joi faction.

Or rather, some of the alliance’s senior leaders had already secretly defected to the Daoists, so this so-called movement had been under Daoist surveillance from the very beginning.

It could even be said that the Daoists, out of self-interest, deliberately triggered the uprising ahead of time through the spies they had already planted.

It was like a torrential flood. Before the waters had built up enough to breach the levee, the Daoists had already opened the floodgates, ensuring it would never reach its full force.

This was only to be expected that there would be all kinds of characters in any gathering of over 100 people. It would be even more odd if there were no traitors in the movement. All the more so in Fenglin, long famed for worshiping strength.

This reminded Maeda Masao of a verse from the Central Plains.

“Through a thousand years, dynasties shift,

Grand epics written for heroes upon the stage.

Dragons leap over ridges, phoenixes fall on slopes;

Tigers lie by passes, and frogs croak in bottomless wells.

One moment, iron steeds and clashing arms;

The next, silver flutes and jade pipes.

Isn’t it better to cast aside resentments with a song or verse?

In the winding pavilion corridors, one can even enjoy the gentle breeze and rain.

Alas, I am wrung by fate, with no home across the four seas.

Even if a monkey leaps to death, it still falls within the boundaries of heaven and earth.

So I bow my head atop this precarious tower and look closely.

Is that drifting cloud my heaven?”

“A little monkey still can’t leap free of the Buddha’s Five Fingers, huh?” Maeda Masao murmured to himself with a bitter smile.

He was not alone in his pessimism. One of his attendants was already softly reciting another verse.

“A span of glory is but a single cup of wine;

Forty-nine years pass in but one sleep.

Birth is unknown, and death too is unknown;

All the years are nothing more than a dream.”

Also present was a young shinkan who had once crossed paths with Qi Xuansu. His expression was calm. This shinkan, Asai Gishin, had once led the group that recruited Qi Xuansu when he was disguised as an Onmyoji from the Harima School.

Asai Gishin was part of the radical faction that had advocated assassination as the means to change the situation and opposed cooperation with the Westerners.

Maeda Masao suddenly called out, “Asai-kun.”

Asai Gishin turned toward him. “Master Masao.”

“I wish to speak with the other side,” Maeda Masao said slowly.

A puzzled look crossed Asai Gishin’s face. “Which side?”

Maeda Masao waved away his attendants, his eyes fixed on Asai Gishin. “Asai-kun, at this point, will you still keep up the act?”

Asai Gishin’s expression shifted slightly, but he said nothing.

Maeda Masao continued, “The Asai family’s ancestors were the daimyo of Omi Province, long allied with the Toyotomi clan. Two Asai women married into power, one to the Taiko and the other to the head of the Tokugawa clan, wagering on both sides. After the Taiko’s death, Lady Yodo bore Lord Hideyori, who became the Kampaku. Lady Yodo, acting as his guardian, involved herself in politics and held real power in the Toyotomi clan, like the Empress Dowager ruling from behind the curtains in the Central Plains.”

Maeda Masao paused slightly. “As far as I know, you were childhood friends with the new Kampaku, Lord Hidemochi. With your ties to the Toyotomi clan, you must still have many friends on that side, no?”

Asai Gishin still did not speak, but neither did he deny it.

That silence was as good as an admission.

Maeda Masao said softly, “Though not yet set to paper, I have composed a letter that I would like you to convey to Sage Qingwei.”

Asai Gishin hesitated, then replied, “I can commit it to memory.”

Maeda Masao began pacing, his voice rising above the rumbling of cannon fire outside. “To Sage Qingwei, with utmost reverence.”

Asai Gishin was slightly startled that Maeda Masao addressed the Daoist Sage Commander with such a respectful tone.

Maeda Masao did not look at Asai Gishin’s reaction but continued, “I, Maeda Masao, have long styled myself a warrior, never to harbor divided loyalties. Yet judging from today’s situation, to pit one corner of land against the Celestial Empire’s million-strong host, our numbers are hopelessly outmatched. It is clear for all to see, and across Fenglin, everyone knows it is an impossible victory. The Fenglin Court and Jingu cling to their shallow conceit, arrogant in their power, presuming to pit egg against rock. They abuse authority, exclude dissenters, and leave allies to die unaided. If we fight again, it will be nothing but needless slaughter. Sage Qingwei, I have heard that you treat all with sincerity, cherish life with benevolence, and embrace men of talent with humility. I now wish to lead my men in surrender, my bleeding heart laid bare as I beg you to harbor no suspicion.”

Asai Gishin murmured, “I have memorized it.”

Maeda Masao drew a deep breath. “Then I shall leave it in your hands, Asai-kun.”

After Asai turned to leave, Maeda Masao let out a long sigh and recited in a whisper.

“I am like the morning dew fallen to the world,

Or cherry blossoms drifting in the spring breeze.

Forty-nine years are but a single dream;

My lifetime’s glory is but a cup of wine.”