X | THE AGE OF SHOJIN

Weiwang Shojin, born of a line of illiterate chicken farmers in a small village, during the Red Flower of Bangzan was the Great War of Freedom for the Nation of Mingza under the banner of Izion Kingdom. Sorca Law, a law decreed that young men would be bled to be warriors serving the liberty of the land against Andols. He, one of the many men of Mingza to charge forward against the Andolanions.

Shojin was one of those that shone wielding a great promise and a great mind, rising the ranks of a warrior to being one of the king’s guards, he learned under the teaching of young Maestro Eldred and then became a trusted adviser of the King.

Then came the last stand, they marched and fought on the broken lands of Eastern Mingza, the battle against Andolanions, where they outnumbered them five to one, the last stand of Izion against the foes of Andolanions. The great Shojin fought alongside with a man who became the Emperor and King of the newly founded empire, the first emperor of the Wi dynasty, Zhezhi.

After the war, he was named a prince and given land and the title of Duke of the Western part of the nation, his family had great honor and wealth as a result. Shojin was granted the chance to wed a princess from the royal house of the Zhezhi Dynasty and the daughter of the king of Izion, Princess Huan of Mingza. The wedding was splendid, held at the newly built capital, Xanjia.

It was on that day when the past was written into history. When the age of the past was replaced by the dawn of the future. A new empire was born in the heart of the continent—a new era.

“The Age of Shojin”

Shojin Imperial Dynasty, Xanjia Palace

Yuhong Xianhua

Princess Yuhong was in a hurry to get ready. Her maidservants had been running around her chamber, trying to help her. She was a young and beautiful princess of the Shojin Imperial Dynasty. But today was not the same. Today, she was getting ready for her pre-wedding celebration with a man she didn’t know. She was sitting in front of her vanity, her eyes looking into the mirror. The light from the candles reflected the deep sadness within her. She didn’t want to get married, not to the man who had proposed to her. Thrice her age, and he had already had many wives and concubines.

Princess Yuhong felt her throat clench and tears prick her eyes. She couldn’t bear the thought. But there was no other option.

She remembered how her father had forced her into the betrothal. She had pleaded and cried, but he wouldn’t listen. She knew it was all because of the ongoing war with the neighboring nations.

Her father had allied with the kingdom of Inggen, but Raigen had sided with their enemy. This had resulted in a long and drawn-out war, and her father had decided that the only way to secure peace was by marrying his daughter to the Lord of Raigen.

Refusal would mean she was selfish.

“Your Highness, please don’t cry,” her maidservant, Ling, said as she approached her. “You look beautiful in your dress.”

Yuhong sniffed and nodded. She took a deep breath and wiped her tears.

“Let’s get started,” she said.

She let her maids apply the makeup to her face while she tried to distract herself with thoughts of the future.

I will do my best to be a good wife. I will try to make the best of the situation.

But no matter how hard she tried, she couldn’t ignore the pain in her heart.

As Yuhong stood up, she couldn’t help but think of how much easier it would be to run away. Her sister was too innocent to be left alone.

“Please don’t do this, Your Highness,” Ling said.

Yuhong bit her lip. She knew that Ling was right.

In the end, Yuhong decided to see her sleeping sister one more time. Yuhong couldn’t bear to see her sister hurt. She tiptoed out of her chambers and into her sister’s room.

She was sleeping peacefully, and Yuhong couldn’t help but feel her heartache.

“I’m sorry,” she whispered as she stroked her hair. “I will come back for you.”

Yuhong moaned lightly, abdomen bleeding, chest impaled by a dagger from behind. A short, muscled man surrounded by a green mist, a sinister smile etched on his face, sought to cut her apart. Yet her pupils, now deep blue snapped open, bearing a strange mark on her forehead.

A colossal form rose behind him, a golden humanoid with wings of radiant rings. With a hand he was swatted to death like a fly, eradicating all ice around.

He emerged from the broken grounds below, “Divine Wielder, Hehe—” Another golden form with wings of a ring behind him, swatted him upwards. Both golden entities eradicated him mid-air, causing a swirling golden beam of light that pierce the skies. In the chaos, Elder Mei Lan had seized, sneaking up on Yunhua who fell into a trance-like state. A slash of her dagger Yuhong’s arm fell off with a sickening thud. Boom! She was mercilessly smashed to death with a powerful fist.

Five figures, cloaked in green mist, surged forward only to be swiftly obliterated.

Winds scattered as five Tigrans emerged, each atop wielding bows, charging arrows ablaze with fire, aiming towards her.

Uncle Zhang arrived, wielding the power of wind, he shifted the arrows’ trajectory. The serpentine creature slithered with its fleshy wings, sinking its fangs into a Tigran with lethal precision. Uncle Zhang leaped atop a foe, rendering it unconscious sending the foe plummeting to the ground just as a blazing arrow whizzed by his head.

Uncle Zhang’s eyes widened in shock as a powerful force tore through his chest. He was violently spun around and hurled into Yuhong, helpless as a hand swatted him aside.

Elder Hao charged forward, brandishing a colossal blade forged from beast fangs. He leaped towards a golden form just as a colossal fist smashed down on the space he had occupied moments before.

Unfortunately, his swift move was met with a swirling beam that struck him with unrelenting force.

Elder Hao’s Tigran, attempting to come to his aid, was abruptly engulfed by a flying serpent, leaving them both crashing.

“YOU DAMN BASTARDS, I CURSE YOU TO DEATH!” Elder Hao’s final cries echoed, arms defiant, fingers in desperation, sweat trickling down his furrowed brow. A swirling beam of golden light, swiftly eradicated him, leaving only the broken abyssal crack of earth.

A colossal ice wall shattered, and four figures tumbled in broken rolls. Li Xin swiftly executed a roll to his side before launching into a leaping slash. The advance was abruptly halted by a hammer of thorns, sending him crashing into the icy surface. The bald woman faced a fierce onslaught, meeting a massive ball of blazing fire head-on. She stepped back, countering with a hammer imbued with wind pressure. A dual black wolf leaped into the fray, sinking its fangs into her forearm and shoulder. In the blink of an eye, a lethal slash of a blade followed, and her head tumbled to the icy ground.

“Senior Jun Zhou!” Li Xin yelled, catching Jun Zhou mid-fall in exhaustion.

“HAHA! This mountain is victorious—” Iron Mountain roared, falling to the ground with a thud. His steed, too, whinnied beside him before collapsing into a restful slumber.

In dirt, the life of a worm resides—unseen, uncared for, blind to the world’s intricacies, deemed ugly and unloved. A dead dog—even a dead fish—evokes emotion, but a deceased worm elicits indifference. No fables extol the valor or courage of worms; they exist in insignificance, absent from heroic tales. Children even whimsically dissect them. The musings of a worm, be they happy or sad, rouse no interest. While a lion’s gaze enthralls, the mind of a worm remains overlooked, and no one ponders their contemplations. The opinion of a worm is sought by none, and the world cares not for the question, ‘What would a worm do?’

Life, It is the very nature of life to be unpredictable, and I am no exception. It’s not like their hearts care about me—only my actions. If someone gets in my way, they will be dealt with accordingly. In my life, everything was done of my own. Standing as an unwavering force with a flawless hit rate. Often, the path of logic aligns seamlessly with the courageous choice, exemplified in the stark reality of decisions such as the brutal yet unyielding logic of facing mortality. To live my life boldly. If my destiny leads to departure, only a pitiful souls would mourn, the world, dwelling within their havens, would carry on.

Feeling the cold within my tongue and lips, the mist comes out as I stand atop the ice, palms stretched downward. I wave a massive ice forward, spotting her across. She swiftly slices through with dual blades of flame. I send another wave, freezing her hands mid-air as I rush her. Everything around drains. I close the distance across the ice towards her in slow steps, air escaping with each breath.

Whether it means using force to move them out of my way or ending their existence entirely, it matters little to me.

Everything crushed beneath power.

This power that I have been born with has given me all.

The air becomes thicker, more compact.

I see her raise her hand, a futile attempt to claw at anything, her palm freezes over. Her arms turn blue.

Her eyes widen.

The air becomes colder.

The ice spreads to the rest of her body, freezing her in place.

My steps falter.

The air ceases.

Her head—the last thing to succumb to clawing ice, is a final grasp at life, but not before she mutters a word. “…Cold…”

And so, she is no more.

It’s always the same thing.

The same thing…

It’s not just the same.

It’s the only thing.

I’m not even sure how I’m feeling.

In the shadows beneath the ice, Aegis held his grip unyielding. A sudden shift came from above; a newcomer in a black hooded cloak appeared atop all the frost.

The voice sliced through the cold air, “Brat… that staff… you are quite ruthless, you know?”

“Mhm?”

“I was there,” words dripped with malevolence, “you dug out her eyes… a titan’s flesh, the black pole melted by one of the Forgers Baron—heh… you ended his apprentice too?" erupting into crazed laughter, hands stretched grasping air, the echoes bouncing off the icy walls, “The mother was upset; gave the eldest crybaby a real reason to cry, but what can I say, the little angel runs her mouth too much!”

Aegis knew who he was rambling about: Aesha Penidra, the 3rd sister of the Northern Witches, former 34th champion, reveled in a dark obsession—the collection of eyes. Aesha lay with the eyes of her victims as she beheld a glimpse of a pair of white from cold metal he wore. Alas, the very eyes Aesha harbored to seek became her demise, each gouge taking not just her own but obliterating her existence.

With a cold sneer, a broken helmet of white, tossed toward Aegis’ feet, “Don’t think I don’t know you, I’ve kept it all this time… you were carved 37th.”

“…” Lost in thought.

“Tch. Did you know? I am currently under her.” He cracked his neck sideways as his footfalls got closer. “Her words were… you are the weakest heir!” He ridiculed, standing before Aegis, a tad shorter.

The man began to walk away, pausing again. “That’s right, If you intend to stay, 8th crown of this flower… well, just ask around,” he continued, flying off a crimson Fenghuang.

…

“Hmm?” Aegis muttered in a frown, walking towards ongoing movements, slightly adjusting his blindfold, and observing the swirling beam of gold piercing the sky.

White feathers cascaded before him as a majestic white pegasus, Snow, arrived. “One escaped." Her voice reached him through a mental transmission.

Perhaps not bound by a vow? Aegis mused. The extreme measures they took, even to the point of facing death, were the leaders being chained by an unyielding oath.

Yuhong felt cold attacking her, eyes open, yet couldn’t see. Tired, it felt as if even holding up the lids felt like defiance against the heavens.

Yuhong winced as she turned her head, the sensation of her wounds reopening causing discomfort that she had never known before. The severity rendered her sight useless, yet the essence of his presence was unmistakably distinctive. Despite being one not prone to swooning over handsome faces, Yuhong sensed a unique quality in him. A mere glance filled her with an indescribable emotion, a feeling unfamiliar but undeniable. She knew he wasn’t kind, a far cry from the gentle prince often in her dreams.

Yuhong’s eyes welled with tears, their silent descent tracing the contours of her pale face as she sought his embrace. She burrowed into him, finding solace in the one person she felt she could rely on.

“Senior brother..." a fragile tune, falling unconscious within his arms.

In the bifold radiance of twin moons, Aegis cradled Yuhong with an air of magisterial tenderness. His eyes exchanged a tacit accord with Uncle Zhang, and with a whisper. “Snow,” she descended. Aegis held Yuhong in regal repose, finally alighting on a mountain precipice where a mystical sight unfolded, engulfing them in the ineffable.

Snow lay beneath Aegis as he delicately positioned Yuhong on her back. With a swift gesture, he unraveled her furred cloak and robes, revealing wounds etched against her pallor, severe in their crimson.

Aegis invoked the moon’s presence, and its lunar touch wrought healing, stitching the wounds on her abdomen, chest, and severed arms devoid of scars.

A realization dawned upon Aegis a long time ago: the inability to heal the elder stemmed not from a wound but from a disease entangled with complications. The moon’s balm could only mend normal wounds.

In quietude, Aegis draped Yuhong in renewed attire, exchanging his cloak to shield her from the biting cold. A subtle metamorphosis manifested—her light brown hair shifted to ink black.

Divine Wielder, Aegis pondered this.

Divine Wielders, mortal conduits of divine power, harnessed the essence of gods without the constraints of reciprocity. The contrast with God Contractors, who bargained for divine favor through offerings and rituals, bound by transactions with the divine deity.

In the heart of the night, Snow was perched on the peak of a mountain, her head facing the sky. Aegis sat beside her, his eyes closed, listening to the rustling of leaves and the gentle breeze blowing across the valley.

Snow snorted. “Is this it?”

Aegis opened his white eyes beneath blindfolds, his expression blank. “What are you talking about? There are more important things to worry about right now.”

Snow smirked. “Heh, I saw the way you held her. You were so protective, and I can see it in your eyes. You have a crush on her, don’t you?”

Aegis rolled his eyes and looked away. “I’m just doing what’s necessary. She’s my junior, and I’m taking responsibility for her.”

Snow chuckled. “If you say so, my lovelorn prince, just know that I’ll be there for you when you need a push in the right direction.”

Aegis huffed and shook his head. “We have to go.”

Snow nodded and took to the sky.

As they flew to where Snow left Lady Nourn and the Prince. It was under a cave, and they were all gathered there, Aegis held Yuhong in his arms and laid her down. The group was now filled with injuries.

Uncle Zhang was lying down on a stone, his chest wrapped in bandages. Li Xin was sitting in a corner, his expression solemn. Lady Nourn was tending to the sleeping Prince shooing away mosquitoes. Jun Zhou was lying on the ground chest heaving up and down, Iron Mountain was before him, seemed as though he was the one who carried him.

Aegis remained silent, not saying a word.

Jun Zhou looked up, and saw him, “You’re here,” he said in a tired voice. “Why did we fight them, this was stupidity,” he grumbled.

“Well, even if we did manage to sneak in, the Tigrans’ keen nose would hunt us down,” Aegis reasoned, “whereas obliterating their leaders would dissuade the weaker,” he added confidently. Aegis knew none of the weak were bound by the vow, they were likely doing it just like him, using the strong's might to lead sheep, and swiftly rule them all. After all, tying them all with a vow would be akin to shackles on the ankles.

“Damn it… we’re badly injured this would delay us even further.” Li Xin gritted his teeth, his wrists were sprained.

“Well, we can’t do anything about it, we will have to wait.” Uncle Zhang sighed.

“Let’s rest, and prepare for tomorrow.” Li Xin leaned back but the mosquitoes were relentless. “Ahhhh,” Li Xin complained, flicking off the buzzing from his face.

“These bastards are making us worse, how could we sleep in this,” Jun Zhou complained, swatting crazily.

Yuhong was covered in feathers, laying against Snow’s back.

Iron Mountain’s dangling stomach was bitten, and his skin was swollen red.

Jun Zhou chuckled.

Uncle Zhang looked at the night sky outside.

Li Xin stared at Yuhong.

She looks so peaceful, Li Xin thought.

The others were tired.

And so they slept.

But not Aegis.

Yuhong moaned, slowly opening her deep blue eyes to a blurry world. Aegis sat in a lotus beside her, draped in a blindfold. It was hard to tell if he was sleeping or not.

“How do you fare?” Aegis inquired.

“Huh? My arm, the injuries—they’re healed!” Yuhong exclaimed, running her hands over her recovered body. “Senior Brother…”

“Heh.”

“Besides the lingering blur in my eyes, I’m well enough,” she added, smiling. But then a sudden realization made blood ooze through her face; she was blushing very deeply.

As Aegis scrubbed his robes in the flowing river, Yuhong carefully hung them on the makeshift clothesline between two sturdy trees. The sun blotted their surroundings with a warm glow, creating a tranquil atmosphere.

Aegis grumbled as he tried to wash off a particularly stubborn stain. “They are trouble. Always flying around, making a mess.”

Yuhong laughed. “Well, their songs in the morning are quite delightful.”

Aegis scoffed, “These little—again?”

As if on cue, a bird overhead dropped a surprise on Aegis, landing on his shoulder.

Yuhong burst into laughter. “Senior Brother, it’s the fourth.”

He scowled and wiped off the mess with water. "Fifth, actually.”

In the background, Jun Zhou and Iron Mountain were engaged in a fierce arm-wrestling match on a log, their grunts echoing through the air.

Li Xin was earnestly teaching swordplay to the prince, who struggled to mimic the moves with a wooden branch.

Uncle Zhang, sitting under a tree, was deeply engrossed in his writings, recording the events and the journey.

Lady Nourn observed the training with a contemplative expression.

Aegis, now done with the washing, turned his wrists red and joined Yuhong under the shade of the trees. “Hehe, birds have almost gotten me killed.”

Yuhong tilted her head, intrigued. “Really? How so?”

Aegis leaned against a tree, explaining.

Aegis grinned. “Well, you see, there was this old lady who insisted that her son was a dead fish and her daughter was a loaf of bread filled with flies.”

Yuhong’s eyebrows shot up in disbelief. “Wait, what? A dead fish and a loaf of bread?”

Aegis nodded, “Exactly. So, to make the dead fish happy, I started sprinkling breadcrumbs on it. The birds ate it, and, well, things got a bit chaotic.”

Yuhong couldn’t contain her giggles. “Senior brother, isn’t it your fault?”

Aegis smiled.

A bird landed on Aegis’ head.

“Ah, not you again.”

Aegis and the bird stared at each other for a long moment, the tension palpable. Then, the bird let out a loud squawk and took flight.

Aegis breathed a sigh of relief.

“You should run if you meet any bird that looks at you with intelligence,” said Aegis, his face expressionless.

“Uhh, why?” Yuhong said, her curiosity piqued.

“Because… they are likely to bring bad luck,” said Aegis.

“Oh.” Yuhong stared at the empty space, lost in thoughts.

Then, the words ‘bad luck’ clicked.

Yuhong frowned.

“Senior brother, what are you talking about? Do you think you’re an unlucky person?”

“Me?,” said Aegis, still maintaining that unflappable smile. “I’m talking about you.”

Yuhong blinked, her eyes wide open in surprise. “What did I do?”

Aegis sighed. “See, our encounter is already your bad luck; I am a bringer of disaster after all.”

Aegis found himself reflecting on the situation. If he hadn’t come here, there wouldn’t be this mission between them.