What defines war?
Su Shi clearly failed to grasp what Qian Ye meant, and Qian Ye had no intention of providing any explanation. Even amongst the Atua clans, conflicts would arise, although these would not rightly qualify as war.
War aims at ultimate victory, rather than being about mere survival or demise of an individual.
Lord Muesfeld had been gravely injured by one gunnerous salvo from Qian Ye and thus could not return to the battlefield for now, although quite how injured remained uncertain. A noble of Lord Muesfeld’s rank would possess unequalled life-preserving abilities. Indeed, not even Qian Ye himself, nor even if Zhang Boqian were present with Professor Lin Xiting resurrected could assure their capturing him.
Better than fruitlessly pursuing such a target would be exterminating the mighty individuals revered as fundamental supports by the Evershade faction—in that way, diminishing their potential for war, delivering a pain truly felt by the Evernight Parliament.
Atua clans had paid dearly for this victory, many lives lost, particularly the ultimate self-destruction of Su Wen, just so that Qian Ye might have one chance for this critical strike. Consequently, Su Shi held nothing but loathe towards Paroksya. Yet tending to those emotional intricacies was a luxury beyond even Qian Ye given such a moment for that was precisely the nature of war.
Kneeling amidst dust, Su Shi sobbed soundlessly. The conflict twisted between resentment toward Qian Ye and self-condemnation consumed his thoughts with growing confusion. After all the inner turmoils settled into composure, softly he voiced out his decision, whispering, “I shall return earlier—I must come back with those from the tribe to recover the remains of our fallen kinsfolk.”
Qian Ye, acknowledging the burden within those words, sighed with agreement and responded, “There isn’t only one like your foe Paroksya lurking among Evernight.”
This assertion shook and sobered Su Shi, prompting a slow nod before he faded solemnly beneath forest shade.
Qian Ye strode briefly the entire battlefield’s breadth, tidying up whatever little remained. Just now, he had dispatched eight mighty Evershade warriors—one duke, three marchlords, plus four barons altogether had enriched his coffers. Most notably were their stores in warfare commodities and gunpowder—boon enough to free him of logistical woes for an extended stretch.
In his expectation, Su Shi would inevitably part ways. Before any substantial delay passed, the Atua tribes shall pursue them further. Truly, the quantity of Evernight Princes outnumbers all Atuas’ imagining without question.
Regading all these Princes, no matter heavenly or terrestrial tier, once unrestricted, each would transform instantly into a war-beast able to scorch an entire realm. For evidence see that gash Paroksya left behind upon this inner world, proof absolute—despite consuming active primal forces, decades, perhaps even centuries might not suffice to naturally erase this remnant scar etched permanently on primordial fabric.
Empire and Evershade traditionally exhibited discipline in their wars with utmost mights—measured, purposefully restrained lest irreversible catastrophe befell the world itself. Even amidst each other’s territories, great care would govern lest provoke retaliation in kind for such sacrilege of scorched earth policy.
Both the Empire alongside the Evernight held aspirations over each other’s territorial reach as future dominions to incorporate within their respective hegemonies. That reality precluded any wanton devastation upon these domains. For, though expansive on its scale Evershade might be, yet even so, arable continental real estate always remained precariously limited.
The Inner Realm stood in stark contrast—an immense unknown world possessing a restorative force far surpassing Evershade whose primiordial peoples were still rudimentary tribal Atuas, making the mighty lords indifferent towards them. Should they wish annexment—only after an extensive, bloodletting purge could the natives then truly be broken beyond resistance.
With the battlefield left behind now, Qian Ye surged rapidly towards the great tower’s location ahead. His speed on this passage spared nothing at all; skimming silently tree canopy as night approached with the lofty spire just now cresting horizon’s line distantly ahead.
Without noise nor pause, stealth reigned upon Qian Ye’s approach as he drew toward sentry outposts. He struck swift with sudden lethal efficiency against the pair of lordly guards watching, vanishing the pair into silence.
Examining the fully-armoured corpses left, visors concealing every contour of facial feature save for their rigid silhouettes, a notion had already crystallized within his mind.
Selecting one baronially-dressed figure of build nearest his own form; Qian Ye proceeded to peel and replace flesh for that suit’s clanking form prior to advancing forward.
Established at tower-approached was a grand encampment in full architectural scale, guarded by barons stationed at entry gates with orderly arranged quarters lining the interior. Lamps within were lit in gentle oscillation illuminating nightfall with ethereal flame.
Passing the encampment gates, merely a disinterested appraisal passed upon masked Qian Ye’s presence; for here, all these Barons bore near-indistinguishable standardized armor.
Donned in their ceremonial protective wear Qien Ye found its comfort lacking with insulatory effects barely sufficient. Indeed even lesser nobles in their ranks struggled against the ceaseless irritation of ambient Primordial force gnawing at vitality despite their equipment. Added with their prolonged separation from Evershade realms and dwindling confidence for timely departure compounded their low morales, evident in every forlorn step within dejected postures, both inside guards and those within the interior barracks.
Without haste nor pause Qian Ye meandered unobtrusively through encampment’s center thoroughfare.
The entire base’s architecture was largely assembled using native supplies sourced exclusively within the Inner Realms, with spacious living arrangements that bordered on luxury given that fewer than mere hundred quarters sufficed for encampments spread far and wide.
Understandable given these terms—those admitted thus into this world were chosen only among the elite echelons of lesser nobILITY from Evershade’s ranks. All bore reputations significant in their own lands before they could allow no less for themselves here, after all.
Beyond these dwelling facilities, storehouses, defensive arrays, recreational chambers existed throughout with even some quarters enhanced by force-dampening modules, offering these formidable masters moments respite amidst environments devoid of chaotic primordial energies.
Along encampments’ fringes stood lines of workshops fully staffed with modular industrial fabrication units — each of which dwarfed conventional immovable units by cost factors nearing tenfold exorbitance. These alone were valued at no less than what Qian Ye could hope to gain across his entirety of Yunkai’s domains combined.
Though nearing final phase of completion atop the tower, only several artisans remained completing finishing adjustments aloft.
One artisan descended from the pinnacle’s heights, and with silent efficiency, disappeared under heavy clothed cover within one of many tents surrounding tower. Observing with calculating thought, Qian Ye drifted as though idly exploring closer towards the very same.
Inside this covered pavilion, the technician undertook purification rituals then clothed in informal attire, before walking toward an isolated pavilion placed amidst camp’s periphery. Revealed within was obviously a Lord for his visage remained unencumbered by the helmeted visor of warlike bearing; thusly marked this figure as Marquess-level.
Weighing the importance of Marquess craftsmanship against immediate plans, subtly Qian Ye adjusted approach patterns until he trailed behind at comfortable range until at destination, the artisan entered. A calm moment passed, after which a knock puncture the solitude.
Inside, the surprised figure opened the door only to face the unexpected silhouette of a baronial guard standing solemnly. Initial irritation soon gave way into a flashpoint retort, snapping “Hasn’t todays duties closed yet? And who told you—ah…!” as indignation gave way at the sight before his feet.
His words trailed off and he turned deathly pale as he traced his eyes along the short spear appearing out of seemingly nowhere straight into his own chest armor: he gasped out the whispered horror: “Man Jhu Sah Hwan?
“Astute recognition! Won’t you permit me your hospitality inside?”
Without further challenge, the Marquessment yielded silently, making ample care to quietly seal passage once more, ensuring the two of them remained enclosed.
As Qien Ye ambled, casually perambulating his host’s chamber he expressed genuine astonishment:
“A truly refined existence indeed.”
Within stood a luxurious sleeping chamber connected with private parlon chamber, dining facilities alongside an office library. This level of comfort far exceeded anything expected merely as a transient military basecamp upon conquered soil! Comparatively, life on Empire soil bore frugality beyond comprehension. Qian Ye himself customarily foraged the wilderness when operating solitaries—tent, even such a commodity often went forgone completely.
Somewhat unnerved but resigned toward this dire fate the artificed inquired tentatively:
“My Lord Qian, I am willing to comply with whatever request you should bear. Still permit the privilege of forewarning: that Sovereign Paroksya may sooner than expected resume dominion upon return soon.”
Coolly dispassionate, Qian Ye corrected: “That sovereign now bleeds by the mark of my hands—his departure may prove somewhat protracted.”
The artisan blanched anew though skepticism clung slightly alongside fear. Still, the thought of protest never rose—promptly gestured towards sofa, silently obeying and sitting meekly across from his visitor unasked.
Continuating smoothly but without affect, “Speak honestly, and hardship shan’t plague; so, what serves as the function of this towering edifice upon heights?”
The craftsman hesitated, replying, “In absolute honestly neither do I fully discern nor am privy to every hidden truth surrounding it.”
A light chuckled from guest lips followed—rejoinder in response to host’s vague replies: “Then permit me a more simplistic framing. It need not remain mystery entirely, though at minimum, know clearly I may exit anytime by your demise should necessity arise. Paroksya may never emerge hence. Any alternative who might arrive, will not likely oppose the force they cannot overcome.”
A weary smile crossed the manorial worker, conceding: “Your power manifests—through empty phasing through spatial folds unchallenged, primordial piercing javelins and of course the terrible presence Man Jhu Sah Hwan. I know well enough. Yet as I already declared previously, truly nothing of its innermost intentions I can confirm!”
Qian Ye continued probing, “Yet you rank among the foremost artisans here amongst your contemporaries. Claim ignorance with sincerity, shall you?”
The worker clarified candidly. “Indeed the design for the Towers belonged to Master Prutidik, who alone conceived them. We merely trained until proficient in structural fabrication, following instructions from inception to the assembling stage. The innermost mechanisms composing its core arrived from Evernight complete—already manufactured pre-stamped within unbreachable containers. Were any of these seals ever broken the mechanisms would automatically render useless instantly beyond repairs! At most, only my intuition could speculate their true functions.”
“Very well—then share me your own speculations upon their use.” Quen Ye asked persistently.
The Marquess hesitated. “In simplest understanding—I perceive their role in emitting primordial frequencies at a highly advanced degree, then gathering and deciphering returned pulses containing particular information packets. Consider their frequencies: incredibly powerful—exceedingly so with one emission pulse alone generating power on par with a Primarch-level martial strike’s force! Such a magnitude of primordial resonance cannot simply serve just long distances—it must possess a secondary purpose—one that resonates harmonically with an underlying unknown phenomenon.”
“And who controls that mechanism?”
“The one called Sovereign. Only Paroksya’s unique essence signature may unlock the command mechanisms embedded therein.”
Pondernously mused the younger man next inquiry. “How close now to complete this installation?”
“All structural work already entirely done, with partial functionality verified. A half days work remains merely, awaiting final installation with Sovereign’s direct authority.”
Casually shifting to an eased repose Quen Ye tapped fingers thoughtfully on rail, continuing: “So then—in how many towers is this installation planned?”
“Merest One at least, though plans exist perhaps constructing a maximum triplet trio. Given the present progress ahead of schedule— scouting parties have already been dispatch to scout and finalize other suitable tower establishment sites for follow on construction.”
“One last query—by your plans; what manner of method exists for re-entry to the realm outside?”
The artisan shrugged with a faint helpless smirk, stating flatly, “Truly I know not of it.”
“This, I highly doubt.”
He answered honestly, “Perhaps the Demon Archduke himself might fathom, or maybe my old peer Grand Duke Lorenzo does know something… I can’t be certain, but even with all his knowledge from Evershade realm, he hasn’t mentioned any return method.”
“Therefore—how do you attempt contact outward, if any?”
“We can communicate using the Tower. Indeed just tested communications protocols but our signals remain very limited.”
“Still, should not prove difficult if you already maintained established channels. You mean suggesting it mirrors the black holes’ isolation within the great maelstroms beyond our own worlds—where no signal reaches?”
The noble artisan countered: “Indeed such was my question as well. Communications proves unexpectedly strenuous—as though obstructed deliberately from interference. Our transmissions neither carry through clearly nor reach Evershade receivers cleanly: our instruments record only chaotic fragments. All images sent, voices spoken, are reduced to senseless white noise—an utter loss!”
Qian Ye moved silently to gaze through the window at the distance silhouette towering over, his final thought echoing his final query:
“Then whereabouts lies the central component of this towering mechanism—exactly?”
**END**
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