Chapter Thirty-Nine: The Annihilation of the Alliance (Part Two)

The League of Transcenders was said to be a vast organization with a total membership of five hundred, composed entirely of those who had crossed over from other worlds. Unlike the Chaos Rippers, the League enjoyed an excellent reputation among transcenders—those with a sound moral compass invariably chose the League as their first port of call.

In truth, to the transcenders, the League was a beacon of hope for the fulfillment of great deeds. And even if one failed to achieve such feats, under the League’s protection, anyone who strove to serve their fellow countrymen could still enjoy a life of peace and plenty in this era.

Yet, such a League had been destroyed in an instant.

As Ming Tian pondered this, a deep unease settled over him. The fire and shockwave were clearly caused by a large quantity of powerful explosives—but the real issue was that it was only the second month of the first year of Yongtai. Gunpowder had first appeared during the Qin Dynasty, but back then, it was merely a byproduct of alchemy, more a stroke of luck than a true invention. The actual discovery of gunpowder would not come until the Sui Dynasty, centuries from now, and explosives would only emerge at the very end of the Tang. It was impossible for explosives to appear now. In other words...

A dim, oval-shaped beam pierced the darkness. Ming Tian finally opened his eyes. The first thing he saw was An Luo’s towering nose, smeared with what looked like sesame paste, and his gap-toothed, yellow grin.

"Ming Tian, you’re awake?" An Luo’s face blossomed into a wide smile, and he reached to embrace him.

"Hey, what are you doing?" Ming Tian recoiled in horror. Being embraced by this musclebound brute was simply unthinkable. He scrambled out of the way just in time, leaving An Luo to fall onto the bed alone. The wooden frame creaked ominously under the man’s weight, as if it might collapse at any moment.

Thank goodness I moved quickly, Ming Tian thought. Otherwise, I might have ended up dead in the arms of this brute... Damn, it still hurts like hell.

Regaining his senses, Ming Tian felt as though he’d been beaten all over; every bone in his body ached dully. His torso was swathed in bandages, and each breath sent a twinge of pain through his chest—at least two ribs were cracked, though not broken, or he wouldn’t even have the strength to sit up. His scapulae, arms, wrists, knees, and shoulders all felt strained, though at least nothing seemed broken. A thick roll of bandages circled his head, spotted with blood at the center, making him look as if he’d tied the Japanese flag to his forehead.

Perfect. If they wrapped my face too, I could star in "The Mummy: Little Devils of the East."

"You’re awake? Hss..."

Yin Chan’s voice drifted over. Ming Tian looked and saw her sitting by a candle, changing the bandages on her hand. Beneath the gauze, the pale skin of her forearm bore a fresh, ten-centimeter stitched wound. Even after living two lifetimes and reaching sixty-five years old, such an injury still made her wince with pain.

"Miss Yin Chan." An Luo, seeing her expression, looked genuinely apologetic for once. He didn’t approach, but sat on the bed, twisting his thumbs anxiously.

"An Luo, could you step outside for a moment?" Ming Tian gestured for him to leave. He was about to discuss League matters—best not to have a native around. Not that telling a native about transcenders was dangerous; it was just too much trouble to explain.

An Luo seemed to want to say something, but out of respect for Ming Tian, he left quietly.

Recalling what had happened before he lost consciousness, Ming Tian felt a wave of anxiety. "Yin Chan, what happened to the League of Transcenders?"

Yin Chan paused, her hands stilling for a moment. Though her face was expressionless, it was clear that she too had lost all hope.

"It’s gone. After the local officials investigated, they found 538 bodies—no one inside survived."

They were all dead?

The League of Transcenders was annihilated?

What sort of joke was this? He’d heard nothing but praise for the League before; how could it be destroyed just like that?

Ming Tian thought it over. Something was off.

No, this was Jiankang, right under the Emperor’s nose. For something like this to happen without arousing the local garrison’s suspicion, for the League to be taken unawares, and for the attackers to use explosives—it could only mean one of two things.

First, that the League had brought about its own destruction, accidentally blowing itself up with its own gunpowder experiments. But the logic holes in that explanation were too numerous; it could be discounted.

That left only the Chaos Rippers.

"You’ve guessed it too, haven’t you? It was the Chaos Rippers," Yin Chan said, interrupting Ming Tian’s thoughts. Instead of regret, relief flickered across her face—she was glad she’d chosen to help Ming Tian. Otherwise, she would have been in the League as well, and perished in the explosion.

Ming Tian’s head throbbed; the dim candlelight made him dizzy and nauseous.

"Just lie down and rest. You’ve suffered a mild concussion."

"How long was I unconscious?"

"Two days. Don’t worry, your injuries aren’t severe."

"Two days?"

The words nearly made Ming Tian leap from the bed. "What about Xin Zhu? Did Emperor Qi Ming die of illness or recover? Damn it, where’s Wang Jingze? We need to get into the palace immediately!"

But Yin Chan replied calmly, unhurried.

"We’re already in the palace." Yin Chan finally finished wrapping her hand, tying a knot with her teeth.

"Uh... What? When did we get here?"

Putting her tools away in order, Yin Chan came over and patted Ming Tian on the shoulder, recounting the events of the past two days.

It turned out the sequence was as follows: On the day of the League’s explosion, Ming Tian was second closest to the blast after An Luo and was flung seven or eight meters onto the roof of a nearby house. An Luo, who was closest, survived the shockwave unscathed thanks to his monstrous physique, and even shielded Yu Nizi, so neither of them was hurt.

My god, An Luo—are you some kind of walking tank? Civilians five or six meters closer were blown to pieces, yet you survived just by tanking the shockwave? Tanking it? Were you born of beastfolk or what?

Yin Chan and Ming Tian were in similar positions, but the five-person team was bunched together and shielded by An Luo, Ming Tian, and two horses; they suffered little direct impact and were merely flung into a haystack. Wang Jingze, being the farthest away and still on horseback, was only shaken off his mount and escaped unharmed.

After the explosion, Wang Jingze also suspected the work of evil-doers, ordered the local troops to investigate, and scrapped the planned day of rest. He immediately brought the unconscious Ming Tian and the others into the palace.

As for Emperor Qi Ming, he remained gravely ill. After Wang Jingze witnessed Yin Chan’s treatment of Ming Tian, he realized her medical skill far surpassed the imperial physicians and decided to hide her away.

Wang Jingze’s goal was to assassinate both Emperor Qi Ming and Xiao Baojuan. If Emperor Qi Ming died, so much the better—it would save him a target, and with the late emperor’s death, the new emperor would be forbidden from consummating his marriage for half a month, which would buy their plan valuable time.

Wang Jingze himself had just entered the palace these past two days, arranging the necessary contacts and preparing to present Yu Nizi to Xiao Baojuan.

As for Ming Tian, Wang Jingze had already secured him a connection in the imperial kitchens—once Ming Tian recovered, he could take up his post and initiate the plan.

"That’s enough," Ming Tian said. He finally understood—he really was in the imperial palace.

Through the colored glass window, he could see the shadows of patrolling guards passing by his door.

Now that he was here, Ming Tian cared for nothing else—only one desire remained.

"Where is Xin Zhu? Has Wang Jingze found her? I want to see her."

The quilt in his hands creaked under his tightening grip; the only sound in the room was that harsh, persistent noise.

...