Dragon Heart: Iron Will. LitRPG Wuxia Series: Book 2

by Kirill Klevanski

  If the whole sect decided to move against Hadjar’s army, they wouldn’t even notice their resistance as they easily destroyed them.

  The only reason why they hadn’t taken Lidus before now was that they hadn’t needed it.

  And the only reason why they hadn’t touched Lidus in recent years was their fear of the Darnassus Empire.

  Hadjar was going to personally ruin the status quo that had formed over the centuries.

  He was going to go to war against all of Balium.

  Chapter 97

  Hadjar sat in a lotus position with his sword laid out in front of him, and he slowly immersed himself in a deep meditative state. He finally had some free time, which he had quickly decided to devote to cultivation.

  [Initiating the recording process... Registry designation: meditation]

  The morning’s training with the ‘bear’ squad hadn’t gotten him anything. Hadjar had reached the limit of his physical abilities at his current stage. He would get the next breakthrough, and the ability to increase his points, only after his transition to the Transformation of the Body stage.

  Now the races with logs on his back, and everything else, to improve the mood of his soldiers. And they were currently upset.

  The soldiers felt that something was wrong. They weren’t blind, and they’d noticed the concerned expressions of their commanders. They hadn’t been given any weapons or armor from the Armory. They felt that there was more water and less oats in their gruel every day. But they saw their General training desperately and selflessly in the mornings, and it gave them hope, despite everything.

  Hadjar, after participating in log races on the larger parade ground (now that several hundred thousand soldiers trained there, it had been greatly expanded), was usually more interested in administrative problems, rather than his own cultivation.

  But not at that moment.

  Right now, during his meditation, the General was completely focused on Moon Beam, which had been plunged into the earth. Because he’d gained the enlightenment of ‘One with the World’, he now had a better sense of the energy that permeated this entire world.

  What had used to be an elusive fog now looked more like the bank of a wide river, and so Hadjar dove in.

  He didn’t see the glare of the sun on its surface nor the muddy bottom under his feet when he was under the water because, in fact, no river existed. Hadjar was still sitting close to his huge tent. His blade was stuck in the ground in front of him, and a guard, clad in armor, was performing his duties somewhere off to the side.

  The river was merely a part of Hadjar’s imagination—a part of his attitude toward cultivation. It was in the ethereal winds blowing across the endless mountains and plains, hiding in the breath of men and beasts alike, playing catch-up with the birds, and being caressed by the clouds that raced across the sky.

  It was the power, the energy, that kept the whole world alive, and it was reborn every day. Hadjar dived into this energy.

  He didn’t need air because there was more air in the river than in the atmosphere of the entire planet. He didn’t feel cold because the energy was warming his body. Hadjar didn’t choke and drown in this river, instead, he breathed it in deeply, absorbing a part of its energy into himself with every new breath. This part was small and unnoticeable. It would’ve seemed like nothing more than a tiny grain of sand, even to something like an ant.

  However, this drop was truly gigantic to Hadjar. He’d absorbed three or four times more energy than ever before. He absorbed this drop through the nine gate-nodes of his body. And once it was inside, it divided into twelve individual streams.

  Circulating the energy in a special way, Hadjar was meditating in accordance with the Technique described in ‘The Path among Сlouds’ scroll. According to the dragon’s scroll—Hadjar had no reason not to trust it—every meditation Technique had its own properties.

  For example, mastering the ‘Salamander’s Breath’ Technique meant that the cultivator would really be able to one day breathe fire.

  ‘The Path among Clouds’ had only one advantage—it allowed you to walk among the clouds—even as a Heaven Soldier. The legends about flying cultivators were actually fiction, at least for the most part.

  True cultivators could stay in the air for a long time, like the Spirit Knight at the Blue Wind Ridge had, for example. But that hadn’t been flight. He’d made his body lighter than a feather using a special Technique, and had then soared without falling, but hadn’t actually flown.

  True flight was possible only with special artifacts. They were ridiculously expensive, and even the best cultivators of the Empire couldn’t afford to purchase them.

  True flight, where you were as free as a bird, was just myth—a mere legend.

  ‘The Path among Clouds’ made this legend a reality.

  Hadjar had learned a lot from the Moon General’s scrolls. She had left him a valuable legacy in the form of her rich collection of old knowledge.

  However, that didn’t matter at the moment.

  Hadjar sank into the bottomless river with pleasure as it cleansed the whole world. The energy coursed through his body.

  It penetrated his spirit, going to his very core, and the five Fragments of the once whole Seed glittered there. These Fragments were the source of his own power; the power that would eventually bring him back to the endless river like any mortal creature. It was difficult to become an immortal because of this cycle.

  Immortality violated this eternal cycle, and it contradicted the rules established by the Heavens and the Earth, rather than any human laws.

  Hadjar didn’t care about all that right now.

  He tried to feed the Fragments as much energy as possible. He felt that he was now able to do it faster and better than ever before, but he still couldn’t reach the Stage of Core Formation.

  He still didn’t have the power to connect the five Fragments back into one. He brought them closer to each other with each passing day, and with each new effort of will. But it was minor progress and almost unnoticeable. He wouldn’t be able to connect them in less than a century at his current rate.

  It was impossible to pave one’s way to the top of cultivation with only the help of some herbs and a few simple ingredients. Practitioners and cultivators had to temper themselves in the depths of the world and its many events—the only way that allowed them to gain true knowledge and feel the inspiration required to make the world a little clearer.

  Even mysteries would be unraveled then, and distant and deep secrets would become plain as day.

  Hadjar suddenly felt inspired.

  He noticed a glint of steel deep in the bottomless river, much deeper than he could have ever imagined. Hadjar turned around and swam toward it, though he was moving only in his mind—or in something that was much more mystical and ancient than just his mind. However, each movement, each attempt to plunge deeper into the river, felt real.

  Hadjar was slowly starting to tremble while he sat outside his tent; big drops of sweat were now running down his face.

  Message to the host:

  A threat to the host’s life has been detected!

  Danger level:

  above average!

  Hadjar’s consciousness struggled with the ethereal streams of the river carrying him toward the metallic gleam. He fought against the river, trying to stop the titanic force that carried him along, but it was almost impossible to resist.

  Only by rushing forward in a last-ditch effort was Hadjar able to move his dream body slightly closer to the shining steel. And yet, he was still as far away from it as the farthest star was from a shepherd lying on a hill and peering into the bottomless abyss of space.

  But even getting that close was enough for his bodyguards to draw their weapons and run to him when they heard his sudden cry.

  Their General got up with great difficulty, deep cuts visible everywhere on his body—cuts that only a very fast and strong sword could’ve inflicted.

  “
General Hadjar!”

  “It’s all right,” they heard him say, almost joyfully. “It’s okay!”

  Hadjar wiped away the blood and sighed deeply, then he sheathed his sword. As he went to the healer, he didn’t feel wounded or like he’d failed. Not when he now knew that, somewhere in the depths of the river, another energy was hiding.

  It was an energy that beckoned him with its incredible strength. However, he was too weak to endure its ‘light’, let alone reach it.

  The energy of the sword was hiding somewhere in the depths of that river. Hadjar had been looking for it for so long, and now he had finally found it.

  Chapter 98

  After his wounds had fully healed, Hadjar tried to get closer to the energy of the sword once again. His second attempt almost cost him his life. The General realized that he was still too weak to make a third attempt after that.

  Hadjar decided it would be prudent to stop his attempts until he reached the Transformation Stage. Perhaps then he would be strong enough to get a little closer to the sword energy. He didn’t even dare dream about absorbing this energy, as he felt that if he tried to do that, it wouldn’t just cut his skin, it would slice into his very soul.

  The energy was just too strong and lethally sharp.

  For now, though, Hadjar wasn’t interested in the secrets of this world.

  He convened an Extended War Council later that evening. All the commanders, who had previously served under the Moon General, were now sitting and looking at him. They believed in their General, and they had supported him even when he had been threatened by the officials sent by the General Council.

  Hadjar knew he couldn’t afford to make a mistake. There was too much at stake. And most importantly, he was now responsible for many hundreds of thousands of lives; he was responsible for not only the soldiers under his command, but for their families, too. These families hadn’t been taken to the mine purely because they had a certificate that stated one of their relatives was currently serving in the army.

  Their families were struggling to make ends meet because of the soldiers’ meager salaries. The system made it so that soldiers could receive only a part of their salary, while the city authorities paid the remainder of their earnings directly to their families.

  It all depended on Hadjar now.

  That’s why he decided to forgo any preamble and immediately got to the point.

  “We’re going to invade Balium.”

  The tent became so quiet that the hiss of oil burning in the lamps, the crackling of the fires nearby, and the roar of the wind disturbing the fabric of the tents could be clearly heard.

  “My General…” Helion quickly rose from his chair. “We’re going to need you to explain what you mean, because this sounds like crazy talk.”

  “It’s pure madness!” Nero snorted, playing with his dagger.

  Hadjar ignored his friend’s remark and took a pointer.

  “We’ll besiege Garnuth.” Hadjar circled his pointer over the border of the city. “And when it falls, we’ll solve most of our problems. There’s enough gunpowder and arrows for our archers in their garrison, and there is easily enough armor for most of our troops in their forges. Garnuth’s treasury certainly won’t be empty since it’s situated at the intersection of two major trade routes.”

  The commanders looked at each other in disbelief.

  “Let me ask you, my General,” Lian, the chief of the archers, began. “How will it fall if we can’t even afford to besiege it for a week?”

  “A week? What are you talking about?” The spymaster objected immediately. “We can’t even last three days. The army nearest to the city will reach us, and we’ll go to the forefathers on the morning of the fourth day. General Hadjar, you know I always like your ideas, but this time, I’m completely against it.”

  The remaining commanders nodded, agreeing with the scout.

  “And what do you say, Commander Lergon?” Hadjar asked the commander of the two hundred thousand Baliumians who had recently joined their army.

  Lergon, whose numerous scars almost seemed to gleam in the dim light, looked at the General, then at the map, and a smile slowly appeared across his face.

  “I support your plan, my General. We’ll be able to prepare the required number of leaflets within a week.”

  “What the hell are you talking about?” Tuur, the chief of engineers, roared. “Are you going to cover Garnuth’s walls with paper and wait until... what? The walls finally turn into paper, too? Maybe if we were in a fairy tale!”

  “No, Commander.” Hadjar shook his head. “We don’t need the paper for the walls. We need it for the people’s hearts.”

  There was only silence and puzzled looks in the tent, and then Nero laughed wildly.

  “Have I told you that you’re insane? There is no doubting the fact that you are crazy, my friend.”

  “Thank you, Commander Nero, for your flattering words.”

  Three people nodded to each other and observed the map—they were the General, Lergon, and now, Nero.

  “Can you gentlemen enlighten the rest of us? How the hell are you going to conquer this city with nothing more than paper?”

  “It’s simple, Helion.” Nero got up and put a few tin soldiers near Garnuth’s walls on the map. “The General is going to incite a revolt in the city.”

  “Okay, but why?”

  “It’s just like when Lergon’s people joined us.” Hadjar shrugged. “We invite them to take revenge on the sect of ‘The Black Gates’ and help them try to free their friends, relatives, and lovers from slavery. That’s our way in. What do you think, Commander Lergon? Will there be many casualties?”

  Lergon considered his General’s question carefully.

  “The city is far from the central pavilions of the sect. But its influence and the lawlessness of its disciples are felt even here. I think at least fifty thousand of the two million inhabitants will have suffered in some shape or form from the oppression of ‘The Black Gates’.”

  “Fifty thousand.” Tuur sighed. “And how will these fifty thousand inhabitants help us conquer a city of over two million people?”

  “They’ll open the gates,” Hadjar explained calmly. “As soon as we are inside the city, we’ll be able to address our major problems.”

  “General, do you have any idea what a real garrison is?” Lian asked, leaning heavily on the table. “There are at least a hundred thousand well-trained soldiers manning the walls of Garnuth. Two more rings of walls will be waiting for us behind the first gate. Don’t forget about the General—the head of the garrison. They’ll be a cultivator at least as powerful as Dragon Tooth had been.”

  The commanders nodded in appreciation of Lian’s words. The plan for their conquest of Garnuth no longer seemed quite as mad as it first had, but it still didn’t look very feasible.

  “We’ve got a sufficient number of survivors from the battle at the Fort in our army,” Hadjar reminded his men. “They know how to fight in the streets and are more proficient in close combat than anyone else. We can defeat the garrison, despite their fortifications. Their main strengths are their mortars and the strong walls. Our plan lets us avoid both of those.”

  “Well…” The spymaster raised his hand. “Let’s presume we actually manage to get past the main gate. General, do you really think the head of the garrison, after reading the leaflets, won’t understand what’s about to happen? The watchmen will be standing on every corner! The whole city will be on high alert!”

  “That’s why, Commander, you’ll come up with a wonderful distraction.”

  “What distraction?”

  Hadjar frowned.

  “If I knew the answer to that question, Commander, why would I need you?”

  They looked at each other for a few seconds.

  “Pardon me, my General. We’ll come up with a suitable distraction for you.”

  “You have until morning.” Hadjar nodded. “I’ll hear your suggestions then. Together, we
’ll choose the best among them.”

  “Can I go now to begin preparing, my General?”

  “You can.”

  The spymaster nodded and left to think over the mission. Hadjar had no doubt that he would have about ten interesting and effective ideas by morning. Such a situation in the Council wasn’t really a conflict, but merely routine.

  “How do we distinguish the defenders from our allies during the invasion of the city?” Lian asked.

  “It’s simple, my dear.” Helion glanced at his eternal ‘opponent’. “Perhaps you archers don’t know about it, but soldiers wear these special clothes called armor.”

  “Idiot.” Lian rolled her eyes. “What will prevent the garrison soldiers from removing their armor and infiltrating the rebel ranks? Or are you so eager to get stabbed in the back?”

  Helion didn’t have an answer to that.

  “Good question, Commander Lian,” Hadjar said with a nod. “So, let’s get to the point: discussing how we can capture this city.”

  “Yes, my General.”

  “Please forgive me, my General.”

  The discussion that followed lasted for six long hours. As a result, they managed to come up with a plan that was extravagant, arrogant, absurd, but somehow, it might just work.

  Chapter 99

  Hadjar held a leaflet in his hand. A typical disciple of ‘The Black Gates’ sect was drawn on it. He was pale-skinned, wearing black robes, with a belt made of small skulls, and held a scythe in his hands. The sect followed the path of dark energy, after all.

  In this world, they didn’t care what kind of energy the practitioners used. It didn’t matter as long as a practitioner was strong enough to send you on your eternal journey for nothing more than a sideways glance.

  The Techniques of ‘The Black Gates’ were usually based on blood—in the strictest sense of the word. According to Lergon’s stories, it was quite normal for the disciples of this sect to throw bloody spears or to conjure something like scarlet sickles with the help of their various curved arms.