Authentic Shaman Monarch. Fraudulent Shaman Monarch. No Use Crying Over Spilt Milk. (Part 1)
All the states near Nieyao would’ve heard the ear-splitting roar. It certainly was distinctly audible on the peak of Mount Wanyu.
Gewu’s memories indiscriminately crawled to the forefront of his mind as he peered in Nieyao’s direction. Not everyone could relive sixty years of past events multiple times. Not everyone’s memories were displayed more vividly each time they relived them. He had seen the memories and felt the associated hatred so many times that he could now smile as they flooded his mind.
When it came, it came. Nobody had any say in when it came or what it did. Normal logic didn’t apply to it. The Heisina Tribe that lived centuries ago could testify in support of these points.
“You knew the dragon would roar sooner than I did, didn’t you?” Gewu’s question was for the then thirty year old equestrian. The equestrian was still an army cadet accompanying his King to Mount Wanyu when Gewu first met him.
Despite the Heisina members hiding themselves, Gewu was able to pinpoint the Heisina descendant in the fifteenth, maybe it was twenty-fifth, row. While the descendant may have been able to hide his affiliation from others, Gewu would identify the unique muscular physique and vigilance that only someone dwelling near Nieyao would possess.
Morcher’s last King was the only man who dared to march soldiers up Mount Wanyu and the only man who’d dare to employ the minorities in the mountains. Therefore, Gewu wasn’t taken aback to see a Heisina descendant in his employment.
The second time Gewu met the Heisina descendant was after killing Morcher’s King. Thus, Gewu knew all about Nieyao’s catastrophe when Morcher was there and the one before their reign. The cadet wasn’t part of the minority who were supposed to be spared so that they could spread word of the nightmare they laid eyes upon, but the cadet managed to awaken his maximum potential in the face of death to flee.
Gewu knew he found a man who, under the right conditions, empowered him to change the world – even rule it – when he witnessed the cadet communicate with and tame other beasts. Gewu never mentioned what he saw to anyone, including the “upper echelon”. He allowed the cadet, who would go on to become Beussent, to “luckily” escape Nieyao. To Gewu, it was only a matter of adding another name to the list of survivors.
Following his escape from Nieyao, Beussent would be bound to Gewu whether it was the latter’s observation or aid. Gewu knew all about Beussent becoming Feng Xue’s disciple, becoming leader of Heisina Clan, forging a weapon to slay the monster in Nieyao and his declaration to stage a coup. If there was no chance anyone could identify Beussent or read his mind, then Gewu could’ve controlled Shaman Monarch’s descendant more directly. Aside from that, Gewu had high hopes for Beussent; he wanted to see how far Beussent could go and what sort of trail he’d blaze.
Like Gewu, Beussent was subjected to discrimination for his lineage, lived a harsh childhood and lost everything he cared about at a point in time. The difference between them was that Beussent was gifted with more talent that Gewu ever imagined possible.
“Nonetheless, you are cornered now.”
Gewu returned to his throne to meditate, rather, wait, once the dragon howl died down. After he sent off Sky Palace’s envoy, he waited for two things on the peak – a dragon’s roar and an individual.
Hours subsequent to the roar, the individual Gewu had been waiting for finally arrived. Although he didn’t hear his visitor or open his eyes yet, the blood of dozens, perhaps hundreds, of people permeated the entire place.
“It has been a long time since you came back, Your Majesty, and the first thing you do is kill your followers to prove yourself? Inappropriate, no?” The only emotion coming out of Gewu’s mouth was sarcasm and condescension.
“I made myself clear: I will kill anyone who gets in my way. They made their choice.” Ming Feizhen’s voice was so deep that it could be compared to rumbling thunder that’d startle his listener.
Gewu couldn’t tell if Ming Feizhen was using a disguise previously or this time. One thing he could be sure of, though, was that Ming Feizhen’s hostility was gushing out as opposed to seeping out today.
“Did you want to take something from here again, Your Majesty?”
“… You know the answer.”
The oppressive attitude, voice and aura resembled a recent memory of Gewu’s – the roar heard hours ago.
Gewu hiked up a corner of his lips. “Sounds like that roar has put you on edge. What’s the matter? The abruptness caught you off beat?”
“I certainly am on edge right now.” At the same time Ming Feizhen cast his red gaze onto the stone throne by the side, the left-hand side arm rest exploded. Even with decades of violence under his belt, Gewu’s countenance changed visibly. Ming Feizhen leaned right in to Gewu’s ear. “Not even I want to piss myself off when I’m on edge; bear that in mind.”