“The coating…” Qian Ye intended to first hear what Yin Qiqi had to say. Exorbitant demands were part of the aristocratic manner, yet it wasn’t something he expected from her.
But her opening statement hit Qian Ye hard: “Without our special paint, this armor won’t appear this remarkable. Additionally, its design should be our exclusive creation; using it without authorization simply won’t work.”
He had already seen Qian Ye’s design drawings and without prior consent couldn’t use them freely at all. Ultimately, this armor was an idea, maybe politely called creative vision or conceptual approach, once he obtained that blueprint someone could fabricate it naturally – except for that essential coating.
Yet, Qian Ye reckoned that the sap from Holy Trees was probably far superior to this coating.
“What do you intend?” pressed Qian Ye; with his schedule short-staffed he meant to cut straight to matters.
“Elders at my house think at least half of whatever payment goes should cover costs of the paints. Moreover, we would need guarantees of lumber and continuous Holy Tree sap supplies.”
So their claim implied: the worth from timber and Holy Sap combined were dwarfed still by said mysterious pigments.
Showing no emotion Qian Ye proceeded, “Then what about the paint’s performance? ”
“Top-secret.”
“If its efficacy remains obscure to me, why trust your coating worked?”
“Faith,” was her reply bluntly.
“What composition is inside the pigments”?
“Double-top confidential” she answered succinctly once again.
Smiling faintly Qian Ye waved goodbye, turning.
Yin Qiqi chuckled in amusement: “Nothing, no further chats”?
“Considering same initial deal,” replied he, “We’ve got nothing left worthwhile negotiating.”
“Come, barter’s usually overpricing plus haggling. Isn’t that typical business?”
“You lot turned as grasping as the Song clan men?”
“Just not pressing any urgency over armor production. Shall revisit this matter once my inventory sees depletion.”
“I could adjust figures down, provided Holy Sap deliveries are upheld.”
Qian Ye regarded Yin finally then queried, “Craving saps is ultimately your motive? These represent a new world’s most critical resource! Without compelling reason combined with favorable conditions, I’d rather forgo any sharing.”
“Material riches stored gather mold. Only in usage lie its value.”
Cackling with amusement he countered, “Nonsensical! Safeguarding resources bears its intrinsic worth already!”
“What do yeh call this ‘value’?”
“Speculative stock gains from delay.”
“Fiddlesticks! You rival Song Zining’s craftiness.”
“Which makes us brothers,” laughed Qian.
Shrugging helplessly she mused, “True. Nothing left to do here but offer a favor for nostalgia’s sake. Truthfully my Yuan dynasty clan recently learned of hidden intelligence. The Shadow races mastered utilizing sap recently. Consequently huge demand surged for the stuff.”
She continued; “Yuan Council’s elders just hoarded goods anticipating Empire catching up how valuable our goods turned into cash soon. So essentially same greedy stockpile game yeh’re playing.”
Qian was surprised how their thinking actually mirrored so closely.
Truthfully speaking, over a dozen territories now answered to him. Each forest yielding at least one matured Holy Tree – totaling past twenty already – no wonder Yuan couldn’t catch this magnitude. Not storing saps like others; he stored whole trees instead.
Furthermore from the battlefield ruins’ patterns, typically post-war Holy forests were ravaged; thus even with more territory seized by the opposing faction through conventional means, raw yields might fall short compared to his methods. The key advantage lay within superior logistics.
Yet valuable remained this intel she delivered, reinforcing his decision keeping the saps confidential, plus those mysterious stones at the island center between ore & iron also held immense promise he vowed secrecy until clearer application surfaced.
Decision reached thus came his teasing:
“You’ve trickster bloodlines.”
She shrugged helplessly: “Not all fault mine! I remain loyal Yuan daughter; had you stumbled upon foolishness wouldn’t expect loyalty.”
“What really explains those armor blueprints?”
“TotaIly authentic! Even painting methods true but perhaps exaggerated in effect earlier. However the coating indeed helps—noticeably helps.”
Cautiously probing he offered: How about 1 sap batch exchange for 10 coating batches?
Sigh rolled she added dramatically, “So modesty kills negotiation again. My target was initially 50…60 wouldn’t seem unkind even. Song Zining’d probably bawl out demand for 500 units.”
Quick to adjust, replied decisively: “Then fifty units, but transferring workshops immediately onto Yon Valley’s land here ensuring in-place manufacturing.”
Transport costs for incoming raw goods avoided altogether was fair; agreed instantly then parted she eyed Qian strangely, something almost unsaid lingering.
But dismissing minor concerns he redirected focus onto strategizing against Sarsa & the Mosar tribe’s armies. On paper, there should remain no comparison against an organized military power of such caliber—but with retraining and human strategic elements woven in under Qian’s leadership, Yon Valley werewolves gained potential to resist Mosars’ assaults.
However key challenge stood Sarsa.
At his strongest—with Zephyr, Carol plus assistance of his Valkyrs—even Sarsa, a Sovereign, was on a separate plane of existence entirely; transcending regular warriors like he dwarfed mere commonality.
Though mercifully no pursuit initiated by Sarsa—never entirely predictable anyway. What Qian discovered was his ability grasping New Dominion rules at an exceptional speed compared to others—yet no clue whether these rules remained constant long-term for eternal lords to exploit.
Never predicted finding such external rivals so soon into Dominion exploration. Since this Sovereign opposition emerged already, his thoughts turned toward observing Zhie Polar King’s stance instead.
After finalizing instructions over active affairs – Qian re-dived deep into his dimensional exploration realm piloting the Valhalla, harvesting more woodland strongholds. From obtaining Four Holy groves then seizing two competing territories claimed against each other, he’d felt previously omnipresent weight bearing silently lessened; each subsequent acquisition further reducing mental fatigue while enhancing his overall attunement.
After obliterating the combat commander with six arms, a clear shift manifested—the Holy Trees previously hostile began showing passive support which eased pressure upon him; essentially magnifying his Dominion-fitting strength.
Capturing more forest holdings from the Mosar tribes, synergies arose allowing increased power amplification unlike back home. His strength actually amplified despite environmental challenges here being typically brutal.
Armed this knowledge, a strategy hatched: accelerating his elimination sweep of six-handed species increased urgency—each notch of progress improved his survival chances upon inevitable encounters with Sarsa.
Yet suddenly the mist outside a fortress upon Qin’s Lands began thickening unnaturally, a violent chill swept forth causing the sentry units’ body hairs tingled in primal dread; weaklings even collapsing.
A deafening war-alarm pierced the sky as all garrison units mobilized, manning their positions hastily, with arcane cannons glowing with energy upon high tower emplacements.
Every muzzle from both firearm and ballista converged upon an ominous gate entrance — silence stretched tense.
Commander Zhao Jundu long since impressed discipline that guns must always aim inwards. Even entire armies might dissolve upon stepping unguarded through its threshold into unknown perils.
Veterans drawn from Imperial garrisons stood disciplined, accustomed amidst horrors, yet today the gate’s malevolence surpassed any noble opponent; veterans quaked, recognizing this same aura only from battlefield Sovereign aerial dominance—enough to fray nerves hardened by years of campaigns.
Fog rippled back forming passage. From swirling gloom emerged silhouette holding spear aloft steady, each footstep reverberating physically through soil. Ordinary entities wouldn’t displace fog at all—certainly not through this arcane vapor—New Dominion essence manifested tangibly.
Youths sweated under armor plates, rifle grips trembling involuntarily before one buck broke: a loud crack of bullet escaping its barrel targeted intruder’s brow amidst fog.
Projectile arced forward; but effortlessly, the spearman snatched mid-air and examined with disdain. Threw aside cold.
“A bit shaky. But decent aim though.”
Recognising timbred rasp, General rose suddenly, booming: “Hold fire! It is commander Jundu !”
Emerging from haze, confirmed as the heir bearing Zhao dynasty indeed, though everyone’s expression twisted into sheer shock. A captain sprinted toward him in disbelief screaming, “General, what happened to yourself!?”
Jundu’s long mane was shorn; barely two inches of dishevelled remnants stained darkened crimson. Tattered plate hung off his form in battered rags clanking loosely. Where his previously untarnished features were once sculpted beauty, fresh gashes disfigured flesh across half of his face—including one cutting diagonally through the eye brow arching down.
Except his gaze—brilliant still, lucid.
Surveying line troops—faces pale, mouths agape—Jundu’s realization struck his aura’s pressure remained unsuppressed.
Many soldiers released breath as though their life hinged upon those few moments.
Staring at the assembly generals gathered in front, Jundu spoke: “I merely carry minor wounds unworthy of spectacle.”
Handing off a worn weapon Jundu added casually, “Make copies; double their weight. Dammit, Song’s weapons felt light as feathers—useless, in battle. Not my taste.”
Dazed expressions blank stares met this unusual Jundu. Some who had stood beside the family decades doubted identity.
Yet soon afterwards inside a main bastet command suite bath steamed up.
He wader into basin, letting out relieved moans…then watched entire water volume transformed into a blood bath within moments. His frame bore wounds uncountable—still bleeding.
Not batting an eye he half-slept eyes half-closed.
Tense maidservants stammered, breaking silence: “Wouldn’t it be wise seeing physicians now?”
“No need”, Jundu murmured ordering towels clothes swiftly.
When finally robed entering office bare feet, red seeped already at robe hems.
Staring briefly at clock he mumbled; “About their schedule?” Then came thunder:
“GUESS WHOSE ASS DID YE MISS THE WHOLE DAMN MONTH?”
Door flew off hinges from heavy boot impact, revealing originator’s bellowing chuckles beyond entrance.
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