The pledge Ma Sanbao pulled from his robe was worn with age.
The paper had yellowed, and stains marked it here and there. But the names and positions, crowded onto it in each signer’s own hand, were still clear. At the center stood one name in larger, bolder script than all the rest.
Wei Zhong, Seal-Holding Eunuch of the East Depot.
“Lord Cang Gong,” Ma Sanbao said, noticing where I was looking. “He was the first to draw up the pledge and sign it. He made us promise, again and again, that even if he died, we would see the coup through.”
“He must have thought he might die.”
“His Internal Injury was so severe it would have been no surprise if he’d died on the spot. Thankfully, he survived…”
Ma Sanbao sighed, regret on his face.
“But it’s not good. He still hasn’t recovered completely. Of course, if he hadn’t been injured that badly, he wouldn’t still be alive.”
“What do you mean?”
“Why else would the Emperor have spared Lord Cang Gong? He was the foremost of the old retainers who served the late Emperor. The Emperor couldn’t execute him outright without facing the consequences.”
I’d wondered about that myself.
That meticulous Emperor had spared Lord Cang Gong, the man who stood in his way—and the head of the East Depot, the most threatening force of all.
“Is there something else I don’t know?”
Ma Sanbao nodded quietly.
“There was a bargain. The fate of the Great Nation hung on it.”
“What kind of bargain?”
“The life of a child who hadn’t even learned to walk. Traded for the lives of countless loyal officials.”
“…!”
“Yes, exactly what you’re thinking. Nearly a hundred senior officials were sacrificed to save His Highness Prince Shangshan. Not just the officials themselves, but their entire families.”
The air around us seemed to grow heavy. A fire flickered in Ma Sanbao’s eyes.
“With the late Emperor, His Highness the Crown Prince, and the other princes all gravely ill, we had to protect His Highness Prince Shangshan, our last hope, even at that cost. It was the only way.”
“What did the Emperor get out of the bargain?”
“Legitimacy and time. The late Emperor, after securing a promise about His Highness Prince Shangshan’s future, formally abdicated the throne. Lord Cang Gong calmed the opposition forces that had wanted to fight the new Emperor.”
The Imperial Capital might be the center of the realm, but it wasn’t the whole realm.
The Great Nation’s vast territories were held together by countless officials and armies. Even with the legitimacy of a formal transfer of power, the new Emperor would have needed time to quell the unrest simmering across the land.
Cang Gong was the most respected of the late Emperor’s old retainers. Cang Gong’s safety, along with Prince Shangshan’s, must have been what kept those forces in check.
“The bargain dealt us a terrible blow, but it let us achieve what we had to. The Emperor wasn’t the only one who needed time to recover.”
The Emperor had probably expected Cang Gong to die before long.
Instead, Cang Gong had miraculously survived his terrible Internal Injury. The East Depot he led had endured, too.
And so had the restoration army, which dreamed of rebellion under his leadership.
“So the two sides split apart and faced off against each other. And they’ve been doing that for more than a decade.”
“That’s right. This clash has been inevitable for a long time. We’ve had our blades pointed at each other, but neither side could make the first move. Not openly, at least.”
I frowned at that last part.
“Not openly?”
“There have been several assassination attempts. The Emperor went after Lord Cang Gong, and we went after the Emperor.”
I didn’t need to ask how those attempts had turned out. Both men were still alive.
The Emperor lived under heavy guard in Qianqing Palace, though. Cang Gong’s survival was the surprising part.
“When I went to Qianqing Palace, I saw that the Emperor had one hell of an assassin working for him. How did you stop them?”
“The Emperor has several Supreme Peak masters under his command, of course. But our forces are no weaker. Have you heard of the Twelve Palaces of the Zodiac?”
“I’ve heard the name a few times. Aren’t those constellations?”
“Usually. But it’s also a title for the twelve Supreme Peak masters who protect the Imperial Capital.”
What?
My eyes widened. Twelve Supreme Peak masters, all here in the Imperial Capital? They were rare even in Murim.
I knew much of the Great Nation’s strength was concentrated here, but that was still astonishing. What Ma Sanbao said next surprised me even more.
“Half of those twelve Supreme Peak masters belong to our side. Some of them are staying with Lord Cang Gong.”
“…!”
“And that’s not all.”
Ma Sanbao pointed to the names and positions on the pledge, one after another.
Among them was an old scholar who enjoyed the overwhelming support of the realm’s Confucian scholars, along with senior court officials of the highest rank, such as the Three Dukes. But the most important names belonged to military officers.
Commanders guarding the Imperial Capital and the borders beyond it. One was even a governor-general who commanded tens of thousands of troops.
“Do you understand why this standoff has lasted so long?”
I nodded gravely.
The names on that pledge represented no less than half the Great Nation. If either side struck first, the result would be a sea of corpses and blood.
“The Emperor is the one who drew his sword first. We had no intention of upsetting the balance. We wanted to wait, at least until His Highness Prince Shangshan was older.”
Children of this era generally grew up faster than children in the modern world. But Prince Shangshan was still too young to shoulder the burden of an empire this vast.
“His Highness the Crown Prince was so gifted. The two princes and the other members of the imperial family were worthy of their station, too. Yet they all fell ill, wasted away, and died. Just like someone you know.”
“…The City Lord of Sichuan Province.”
“Yes. He, too, supposedly fell ill that way just after meeting the Emperor. Do you think that’s a coincidence?”
Ma Sanbao’s voice was grave, but there was no doubt in it.
“The Emperor must have joined forces with that sinister group called Dark Heaven. Baek Yeon, who suddenly betrayed the late Emperor, and that woman So Gyo must be closely tied to them as well.”
“…!”
“You and I have come too far to turn back. It’s time to end this long, terrible turmoil. The grand banquet…”
His eyes gleamed.
“It will be the grand enthronement of a new Son of Heaven. The rightful one.”
I closed my eyes without realizing it.
Darkness.
The rain had spent itself in one furious downpour, and I could no longer hear it.
The silence was suffocating.
In it, I turned my thoughts and doubts over once more.
What was right? What was wrong?
What waited at the end of this choice?
The die had already been cast.
I’d made my decision the moment I asked Ma Sanbao for the pledge. This was only the last fork in the road to where I was going.
Rustle.
I opened my eyes to Ma Sanbao’s rigid face. After watching him in silence for a while, I brought my hand to my mouth.
Crack. Tap.
A dull pain, and drops of blood began to fall. With my pinky finger wet with blood, I filled in the pledge’s empty space.
Jin Taekyung.
Three characters. Nothing more.
Unlike the others who had crowded the pledge with their names, I added no sobriquet, family, or affiliation.
Ma Sanbao understood at once.
“You mean to shoulder the burden alone. In case the coup fails.”
“Does that make me a coward?”
“No. I can’t blame you. You don’t want to suffer the same fate as the Maoshan Sect, annihilated for opposing the Great Nation in the past. Besides…”
He tucked the pledge, now bearing my name, into his robe.
“If you and your Master join us, the coup won’t fail.”
He looked and sounded certain. I watched him for a moment, then spoke.
“That’s not enough.”
What?
“Not ‘it won’t fail.’ It has to succeed, doesn’t it?”
“What are you—”
Before Ma Sanbao could finish, I went to the bookcase in the corner of the pavilion and pulled out a book. I tore out a page without hesitation, scrawled a short message on it with my still-bleeding finger, and handed it to him.
“What is this…?”
He frowned at the writing.
“I have no idea what it means. I can barely read it.”
“That’s because it’s in code.”
“Code?”
“A cipher only a handful of people can understand.”
“Then why are you—wait. You don’t mean…”
“I do.”
I nodded at Ma Sanbao, whose eyes had widened, and continued slowly.
“Send one of your men to the place I’m about to tell you and have him deliver that message. Reinforcements from the Murim Alliance will arrive in time for the grand banquet. A powerful force that might even include the Slaughter Saint or one of the Ten Kings.”
“…!”
“You told me last time: succeed, and we’re kings. Fail, and we’re traitors.”
I met Ma Sanbao’s face, colored with shock and amazement, and muttered,
“In that case, shouldn’t we make sure this coup succeeds?”
Yes.
The die had already been cast.
The downpour was almost without precedent.
Rain had battered the Imperial Capital overnight, flooding parts of the city. Hundreds of homes were submerged, and many people were killed or injured.
In its wake, ominous rumors began to spread.
They said they’d found a venomous serpent in a well on the outskirts of the capital—one bigger than several grown men put together.
They said it was Heaven’s warning to the current Son of Heaven, who had defied the natural order—and a prophecy that an even greater disaster was about to begin.
They said the rain had stopped so soon thanks to His Highness Prince Shangshan, who had carried on the late Emperor’s will.
Rumors like these, steeped in superstition, spread like wildfire. Within two days, they had crossed the city’s towering walls and reached the imperial palace.
They reached even its deepest, most secluded place: Qianqing Palace.
When the Emperor heard them, he gave an irritable laugh.
“Looks like the time has come.”
It was the first sign of a storm.
It was also the beginning of the grand banquet—and the wind, rain, and sea of corpses and blood it would bring.
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