Beware Of Chicken Alternate Universe: Soaring Heaven's Isle

19: Arrival to the Captial

We continued our journey northwest, keeping above the river. The entire horizon was taken up by farming, the green stretching on seemingly forever, divided into neat and well managed plots. Towns sprouted like mushrooms on a log, the various governmental buildings a near identical stone stamp that repeated a hundred, a thousand times. It was humbling, even when comparing things to the Before. Even a man from a modern country could look at the scale and be amazed… because we had travelled nearly two thousand, five hundred Li—or nearly eight hundred miles inland.

The other half of me had known, intellectually, about the might of the Empire, but this put it into perspective. And…. It also made me respect it.

All of this was done without combine harvesters, or heavy machinery. And while obviously there were the occasional Spirit Beast, or asshole cultivator running around, the norm for this river seemed to be a kind of quiet peace.

And the towns and buildings were only getting bigger. The little things that made it clear that this world was a Xianxia world, that they had Qi and basically magic kept growing.

In town centers fountains made of crystals got bigger and more elaborate. Lanterns floated over the streets, puppets danced and bounced for shows without any wires to hold them up. In one giant mansion, there was a section of their courtyard where there was a localised snow squall, in the middle of summer. The people down there were lounging on couches and eating shaved ice.

The roads got even straighter and more well paved, with intricate designs of long, trailing peacock, or rather, Phoenix feathers, carved into the roads. They would have been impossible to see from the ground, but from the air, it was clear—these training feathers were all heading in one direction. Leading to somewhere.

I had a feeling I knew where. All roads lead to Rome—or in this case, to the Imperial Capital, the Phoenix’s Nest.

And then came the monuments. Like the Argonath of the Lord of the Rings, the stone sentinels towered above the landscape. Their faces were carved in exquisite detail, sharp eyes locked on unseen foes. Their armour and weapons festooned with accolades and adornments—silent imposing guardians, whose feet were covered in offerings of incense and flowers.

I couldn’t keep my head from craning around, taking in the works of utter art. Even Big D was subdued on my shoulder. Gawking just as much as I was.

“It's a fine view, no, Senchou?” Seiyu asked. I turned and saw her little smile. Her eyes were warm, and she seemed pleased at the smile on my face.

“Each one is a legend from the Age of Heroes.” Bailu piped up, before tilting her head. “Did you not come this way, when you came to the Isle?”

“Ah, nah. Gramps knocked me out, and the first thing that I saw when I woke up was Minyan glaring at me.” I replied, grimacing at the memory.

Both of the Storm Wings shivered.

Minyan’s glare was definitely an… experience.

We shook off the icy feeling that settled over the group, and Bailu perked up.

“Ah! If you like these, you’re going to love the Mountains of Heavenly Triumph!” She declared.

“One of the Wonders of the Empire.” Seiyu agreed, and the name twigged my memories. I remembered the name, from a scroll I had learned to read from. For all that he liked to cuff me around the head when I messed up, the guy who I had paid to teach me had been fairly good at the job, and had actually tried to give me an education. I had read about the carving of the mountain, the author waxing poetic about it, and there had also been an ink print of it. It looked a bit like Mount Rushmore, but instead of the heads of presidents, it was the scene of a battle.

Thirty minutes later, when it came into view, I sent a mental apology to the makers of the Mountains of Heavenly Triumph.

Mount Rushmore was bitch mode. This wasn’t a mountain.Nôv(el)B\\jnn

The Crimson Phoenix Empire had carved an entire small mountain range into a scene from a story. It was painted. There wasn’t a crack, or spot of paint missing on the kilometers long carving. Legions of mortal warriors drove demons to the ground, each man bearing a different face and unique armor. Cultivators stood on clouds, striking from the heavens, and unleashing their might, spearheaded by a man in flame red robes and bearing the mask of a phoenix—the First Emperor. Beside him on the left and right were a man and a woman. The man bore the symbol everyone from Crimson Crucible City knew, the emblem of the Cloudy Sword Sect. The man’s face was emotionless, his long hair tied up in a proper topknot, and his beard streaming in the invisible wind. He looked every inch the cultivator.

The woman beside him had a different symbol. The symbol that the Shengfeng bore, the Flagship of Soaring Heaven’s Isle—the great ship was included in the piece, looming over the demons. While the man’s face was calm, the woman was different. Outwardly, her face was composed. But her eyes. Oh, her eyes. The artist of this had been a true master to get that expression. The pure hatred and barely concealed wrath that bordered on madness. Even the demon she was bearing down on looked downright terrified, holding its hands out in a futile attempt to ward off what was coming.

I whistled at the sheer scale of the monument, and Ningjing paused in the air as we just… took it in. Something in my cultivation resonated at the sight of it, the teaching of a deer that carved mountains acknowledging this work.

“You’re right. This is amazing.” I said. The Storm Wings grinned.

“The Emperor, Zemin, Founder of the Cloudy Sword Sect… and Admiral Qingge.” Bailu said. She smiled up at the statue of the woman, admiration clear in her eyes.

I paused, remembering the name from the History lessons Minyan had given me. I remembered her story in particular, because she played a big role in the sect and the cultivation Style of Soaring Heaven’s Isle… and a lot of what happened those days had apparently been purposefully suppressed.

Stolen content warning: this tale belongs on Royal Road. Report any occurrences elsewhere.

Qiu Qingge. Once, before the demons, she had been an artist. Her hobby had been making flower arrangements, and her gardens were pleasing even to the Bird and the Deer. She was known far and wide as a calm, gentle soul, a contrast to the more fiery members of the Bird’s flock.

The demons killed her husband, her three sons, and her two daughters. And in a way, they killed her too.

What came out of the breaking of Soaring Heaven was a monster of the demon’s making, and one they would regret having ever spawned. No longer was she the gentle woman who sang love songs and baked sweet treats for children.

The Empire knew her as a peerless hero, a titan of the age, who forged the start of Soaring Heaven’s Isle’s Legend.

Soaring Heaven’s Isle both praised her… and mourned what she had to be to bring victory. It was she who ordered the fleets forth. It was on her shoulders that every sacrifice was laid, and she bore it all with quiet dignity despite her anguish, holding on to her sanity… when many others in her position didn’t.

The Bird’s style of cultivation had always increased the passion of the women who practised it. And in those days, it was a curse. The killing of their friends and family, the slaying of their Gods, and the Shattering of their home into an archipelago ignited a rage that drove them to madness and suicidal, berserker fury. They were nearly as demonic as the demons, hurling themselves in full frontal assaults into the jaws of death without hesitation. There were even accounts of cultivators missing their limbs and being reduced to biting demons to death.

Some were so far gone that they had to be sedated and chained in the bowels of their ships, for they made little distinction between friend and foe. They were released only to fight as shock troops. They were the honoured White Martyrs, for they wore the colour to symbolize the fact that they were the walking dead… and known by their other name: the Corpse Companies.

It was Qingge, working in collaboration with one of the Cloudy Sword Sect’s Founders, who developed the style that allowed them to cool their passions. To dampen the blazing fire in their breasts, and return them to clarity. That was why they acted so coldly these days—to make sure their fires didn’t burn out of control.

Qingge had never ascended. Instead, she died of her lingering wounds years after victory was declared. A state funeral was held for her, and the Emperor commanded that the entire empire observe forty days of mourning. The Sect still had her funerary tablet—it was one of their most sacred relics.

I looked again at her likeness, carved eternally in stone. One of the people who had, in the distant past, saved the world.

I bowed my head, paying my respects to the heroes carved into the stone.

We stayed there for a while, floating around the massive work of art. It was great, speculating on how they built it and how they got the paint to stick—neither Bailu nor Seiyu had a clue how someone would have done it. But eventually, we decided to get a move on. We had plans to get to the city today.

As I watched the work of art disappear, it reminded me that again, I really needed a damn recording crystal.

===================================

It was mid afternoon, when the air changed. Ningjing whistled curiously as the sensation washed over us. The sudden warmth that filled my body was subtle, and honestly pleasant… and this time, I knew what was the cause.

The Seven Coloured Flames of the Phoenix that burned over the capital eternally were making their presence known. I could feel its gentle, comforting touch, and Ningjing giggled at the feeling. Big D let out an awed squawk, before his eyes gleamed…. And he immediately leapt up to the top of the ship to cultivate, his Qi swirling around him.

“An enlightenment?” Bailu asked, sounding annoyed and amused at the same time.

“Hmph. the chicken dares get an enlightenment off a phoenix? Our ship’s emergency ration truly is a daring one!” Seiyu said, though she sounded grudgingly impressed.

I just chuckled at the thought. What is a Phoenix besides a spicy chicken anyways?

Again, the roads below got even bigger. The river below more clogged with ships.

And then, our destination finally came into view…. And like everything, the Crimson Phoenix Empire didn’t half-ass it.

First came floating islands chained to the ground. Upon them were entire compounds. Some of the outer ones were obviously fortresses, while others housed pagodas a hundred and eight floors tall, and still others had upon them stadiums—the smaller counterparts to the ones on the ground that would put the colosseum to shame a hundred times over.

Second came the seven coloured light, that coalesced into a blazing beacon. Despite its brightness, it didn’t hurt to look at—a titanic fire captured in a bowl with the taijitu upon it, the tallest building on the ground—the Imperial Palace.

And then… we truly saw the city. A city on five hills by the river, each hill a representation of the virtues of the phoenix: Virtue, Duty, Propriety, Credibility and Mercy.

The great docks dominated the center of the Phoenix Tears river—in actuality a confluence of rivers joining the Phoenix Tears, from where trade boomed, heading to and from the capital, the most vital artery of trade in the known world. I knew one of those rivers would eventually lead to Crimson Crucible City.

A hundred thousand ships were docked in the kilometers wide river, including the behemoth warships of the Golden Armada, the main Imperial fleet. While they couldn’t fly, underestimating the gleaming leviathans was something only a fool would do.

The other dominating feature near the water were the Great Forges.

The outskirts of the city were also home to the Great Foundries, belching white, billowing clouds into the air through skyscraper-sized chimneys. They were painted blazing red and covered in devotional images of phoenixes and cultivator heroes, and even high in the sky we could hear two things: the songs of the forge workers, and the thundering booms of drop hammers the size of houses—enormous water wheels outside of the forges driving their motion. To my surprise, instead of the water nearby being black with pollutants and runoff, instead the water still looked pure and clean, as it ran out from a smaller, secondary building beside the main forges.

My eyes found, in the distance, the towering white walls that had protected the city during the Age of Darkness.

The city had long since spilled out past these walls into a sprawling metropolis that dominated the horizon, yet it was not unordered—it had been designed with care and attention to detail even in the furthest boroughs, where the houses were obviously of lower quality. Even there, there were wide avenues and parks filled with fruiting trees and streams, along with little pavilions so one could enjoy the view.

Somebody who had built this, who had planned this… cared. Oh, it wasn’t perfect, and I could see even from above some spots that did look a bit like blemishes.

But it was a truly beautiful sight. A shining city, happy and prosperous—complete with floating islands, flying ships, and crystals that spewed elements into the air, all capped off by an everlasting Seven-Coloured Flame.

Really and truly, this was a Xianxia world.

I glanced at my Storm Wings…. Who were looking at me. At my smile, and sporting big grins of their own.

“Lets go find a place to dock, and then we’re going exploring!” I commanded, in my best captain’s voice.

Everyone on the ship, and the ship herself, cheered.

And you know what? Right now, I was really, really glad to be living here.