Book 2 Chapter 72

In the section of the Steppes known as the Galloping Plains, the sky came alive.

The Galloping Clouds stretched across the heavens in a single, seemingly endless procession. Each cloud took the shape of a horse, complete with a long mane of tattered vapor and four streaming legs, and galloped ceaselessly from one end of the Plains to the other. No matter how far a traveler followed them, there was always another herd approaching on the horizon. Pale forms dissolved into the distance, only to be replaced by another line of ghostly horses emerging from the clouds.

They were among the most famous sights in the Steppes, but their fame had little to do with their appearance. The Galloping Clouds were, quite simply, the fastest and safest way to cross the Plains. A cultivator had only to leap onto the back of one as it thundered overhead, settle into its flowing mane, and let it carry them onward.

There was something strangely exhilarating about riding through the heavens on the back of a cloud shaped like a horse. The creature beneath a rider's feet seemed to gallop through empty air, its hooves striking nothing and yet producing the faintest suggestion of thunder. Wind rushed past in a steady roar, while the grasslands far below slipped by in broad ribbons of green and gold.

Follow the Clouds far enough, and they would eventually carry a traveler to the outskirts of Sighnaq, the great tent city of the White Horde. From the air, the encampment spread across the Plains like a second landscape: thousands of tents clustered into irregular streets and open courtyards. Smoke rose from cookfires and furnaces, banners snapped above the larger compounds, and herds of horses moved between the tents in dark, shifting masses.

Beyond Sighnaq lay the Shanay-Timpishka River, though calling it a river was perhaps misleading. The waters of the Shanay-Timpishka never stopped boiling. A Yakumama made its home somewhere beneath its surface – a Rank Nine legendary demonic beast comparable in strength to a mid-stage Nascent Soul cultivator. It resembled a gigantic serpent, though accounts differed on its precise appearance. Most people who had seen it had been far too concerned with surviving to pay much attention to the details. Its body radiated such tremendous heat that the river had become a vast, steaming cauldron. A permanent curtain of mist rose from the water and drifted across the surrounding land.

From a distance, the river looked less like a body of water than a white scar cutting through the Plains, its banks hidden beneath clouds of scalding vapor. The air around it shimmered with heat, and travelers passing nearby could feel the warmth against their faces long before they reached the riverbank. Beyond the Shanay-Timpishka lay the Hoofprints of Nezha. The name referred to a series of enormous depressions in the earth, said to have been left behind by Nezha, an ancient divine beast whose passing had supposedly shaken the Steppes. Each hoofprint was large enough to contain a settlement, and the surrounding tribes had spent generations fighting over them.

At any given time, some twenty tribes were said to be engaged in skirmishes over the right to occupy a single hoofprint. It was, by all accounts, an excellent place to avoid. Unfortunately, it was also the route Muxue (based on their original plans), Duan Cheng (for luck), and, somewhat surprisingly, Bai Ning had selected for their group.

They had settled on the route after modifying their original plans, several days of debate, and some basic divination. The last part had come from Bai Ning, who had spent much of that time poring over Qing Zhanyue's jade slip and had apparently discovered a technique described within it as cutting the present to glimpse the past. The Peacock General had included a warning alongside the technique. It required a pre-existing talent for divination before it could be properly employed, a talent Qing Zhanyue herself apparently lacked. As a result, the technique was one she had rarely used.

Bai Ning, naturally, had been undeterred. She insisted that she had grasped a rudimentary version of the technique and, after performing whatever mysterious process she had devised, announced her conclusion in a voice sufficiently portentous to suggest that the heavens themselves had personally delivered the message. The route would be mostly safe, they would encounter little danger, and, most importantly, it would lead them true.

Mo Jian, who remained deeply skeptical of anything resembling divination, had scoffed, but his objections were promptly ignored. Bai Ning had apparently decided that his opinion was no more relevant than that of the grass beneath their feet. She continued explaining her method, which involved using the flat of the Green Destiny Sword as a mirror through which she could supposedly glimpse the future. "Just like Nui Feng," she had said.

Mo Jian had not been reassured. He was even less reassured when Bai Ning insisted that this was a perfectly legitimate application of the technique and that her results were "quite clear." Still, the route was theirs now. The Galloping Clouds would carry them across the Plains to Sighnaq. From there, they would have to cross the boiling Shanay-Timpishka before pressing onward toward the Hoofprints of Naza. If Bai Ning was right, they would cross the Steppes with little trouble.

For the moment, they were riding across the Plains on the back of a Galloping Cloud. The grasslands stretched endlessly around them. From above, they seemed almost peaceful, their broad green expanse broken only by winding streams, scattered clusters of trees, and the occasional dark line of a road or trail. Since this region was relatively safe, herds of spiritual oxen and Thousand Mile Horses wandered across the landscape in slow, shifting masses. In some places, they were so numerous that they resembled dark rivers flowing through the grass.

Far in the distance, mountains rose like blue shadows beneath the horizon. Every so often, another herd of Galloping Clouds appeared. Some passed overhead, while others traveled below, their vaporous bodies catching the afternoon light and turning gold along their backs. From a distance, the entire sky seemed filled with white horses running endlessly through the heavens. Mo Jian was beginning to understand why the Galloping Plains were famous.

They had been traveling for less than an hour when Muxue suddenly raised a hand. Mo Jian looked toward her. She was staring ahead.

"What?"

She pointed.

A thin brown haze had appeared on the horizon, rising from somewhere below the path of the Clouds. It moved strangely, advancing in bursts rather than spreading naturally with the wind. Now that he was looking (and paying attention), Mo Jian could sense it as well: the unmistakable weight of qi marking the encampment ahead. Around the tent city, green-scaled, centaur-like Yuan raced across the Plains, moving so swiftly that the grass seemed to ripple beneath them. Banners rose above the riders, snapping violently in the wind.

"Sighnaq," Muxue said.

The group exchanged looks high above the Clouds. Then, as one, they slipped from the backs of the cloud horses and hovered in the air under their own power. The wind blew gently around them as they slowly wove their qi together, layering their concealment techniques with some difficulty. The Heaven Enshrouding Ding shielded their presence, while Muxue's Truth Tolling Bell added another veil of concealment. Around them, Wei Shentong's jade qi transformed into a flying formation, forming yet another layer between them and the world below.

Mo Jian watched the sprawling city beneath them and nodded to the others. One by one, they nodded back. Yue Shuangyi and Liu Rushi had even gone so far as to take out their natal artifacts, the lotus and the icy needle glimmering brilliantly in the afternoon light. From here onward, they would have to be as cautious as possible. If they could pass Sighnaq without incident, so much the better.

Unfortunately, that was easier said than done. The territory occupied by the White Horde and its Khan, Urud Khan, was special. Sighnaq sat atop one of the few known Gates of Iron on the continent, a natural phenomenon in which a mountain became so saturated with metal and earth qi that it warped the surrounding land. Roads, spiritual currents, and even the movement of cultivators were subtly drawn toward it. All routes led to or through a Gate of Iron, and attempting to bypass one without making a vast detour was practically impossible.

Within the Empire, there were five known Gates of Iron, all famous and steeped in history. They were known collectively as the Five Great Mountains. Two anchored the defenses of the Western Coastline. Two more lay deep within the Empire's territory, where they had become major trade centers and market hubs. The last stood in the heart of the Mere of the Dead Men, transforming the otherwise treacherous swamp into one of the Empire's most valuable strategic assets.

Sighnaq was the only known Gate of Iron in the Steppes. As long as the White Horde occupied it, which was nine months out of every year, it was effectively impassable without either paying a toll or possessing the ability to sneak through. Mo Jian and the others would, naturally, be sneaking through. Paying the toll would accomplish little beyond giving them a short walk to whatever execution platform Urud Khan possessed, assuming he even bothered with such formalities. The man was not exactly known for his reluctance to remove people's heads.

Urud Khan had a reputation for savagery throughout the Steppes, which was saying something, considering the Empire already regarded most Yuan as savages.

This would be so much easier with the Netherworld Scorpion, Mo Jian complained inwardly. Unfortunately, the scorpion was with his clone. While Mo Jian could use its ability to make the Heaven Enshrouding Ding ghostly and conceal their presence, he could not risk using the scorpion for assassination. Doing so would deprive his clone of one of its most potent weapons at a time when it needed every advantage it could get.

There was a reason he had left the scorpion with the clone in the first place. His clone was acting as bait. Most of the Khans would eventually converge on it, and once they did, the scorpion could thin their numbers. If they were lucky, they could eliminate half the Khans in a single strike before even entering the heartlands. The survivors would be far more cautious, particularly the less reckless among them, the very people with whom they ultimately hoped to negotiate.

All of that meant that, while their larger plan had a good chance of succeeding, Mo Jian was still in a precarious position here. They had to pass through Urud Khan's territory carefully and cautiously, without attracting the slightest attention and, above all, without getting into a fight. Their success here was important. If word spread that their group had been spotted sneaking through Sighnaq, many of the Khans would inevitably redirect their attention from "Shi Wanjun" to them. That was something they could ill afford.

Thankfully, they had prepared for this before coming to the Wall, as their original plan had hinged on stealth. There were two ways to avoid notice. The first was to become invisible; to remain unseen and unheard and pass through a place like ghosts. This was the approach Mo Jian and the others had been using until now, layering themselves in concealing techniques and treasures before flying onward. The second was to blend in with the local population. This required more preparation, but had the advantage of being considerably easier than the first. There were some additional complications, of course, given that their targets were Yuan. Any disguise would only remain effective so long as they did not cross paths with someone possessing the abilities or treasures needed to see through it.

Even so, it was the better option. After all, this was a major encampment, with hundreds of thousands of Yuan gathered within it. Mingling with the crowd for a while would not be difficult.

Muxue took a small container from her storage pouch. It was a rectangular, lacquered wooden box, beautifully embossed with a tiger's head. Jewels had been set around the edges and in place of the tiger's eyes. It gleamed in the sunlight, catching and shifting the rays until the entire box seemed wrapped in a faint, luminous glow. Mo Jian had seen Imperial treasures stored in less ostentatious boxes in the Palace. This was Tang Huwei's makeup kit. He had only parted with it after fifteen minutes of reluctant drama and considerably more fake crying than Mo Jian would have thought possible.

"Ready?" Muxue called. It was clearly a rhetorical question, because she opened the box the instant she said it. Inside, powders swirled like a small, gentle storm in three colors: red, tan, and snow white. The moment the box opened, they surged outward, enveloping the group in a cloud of rouge, foundation, and whatever other substances Tang Huwei had deemed necessary. If anyone had been able to see them – not that anyone could – they would have witnessed a puff of colorful powder engulfing the entire group before slowly fading away.

What emerged was a group of Yuan hovering silently in the air.

Mo Jian carefully examined his new appearance. It was, quite literally, makeup, which meant he needed to be careful with it. A casual touch would not make the disguise smear or wash away, but it was hardly as durable as he would have preferred. Worse, it would only last for three days before fading completely. That was precisely why they had never considered using it during their time at Kiyat. There were far more serious challenges awaiting ahead where the disguise would be much more useful – like Sighnaq – in front of them.

Mo Jian looked down at himself. His body was now covered in a fine layer of green scales, with a scattering of azure scales breaking up the pattern. His hair had become wilder and more heavily braided, while his robes with their oversized sleeves had been reduced to a simple loincloth. He would have felt embarrassed by the outfit, had the scales not covered every inch of his body up to his neck. His feet had become hooves, and his fingernails had lengthened into proper claws.

He was now disguised as a Yuan warrior at the peak of Qi Condensation. The others had undergone similar transformations. Every member of the group was covered in scales, with hooves in place of feet. There was a reason they had chosen to disguise themselves as Qi Condensation cultivators rather than anything stronger. They had no desire to deal with the four legs and draconic claws that came with Foundation Establishment and above. More importantly, Qi Condensation cultivators were unlikely to attract much attention in Sighnaq. Foundation Establishment cultivators might receive some scrutiny, while Core Formation cultivators would certainly stand out.

Nascent Soul was out of the question entirely. A cultivator of that realm would stand out too much; the aura of a Khan would be impossible to hide. Their disguises, then, were not particularly sophisticated, but they did not need to be. They only needed to be good enough to get them into Sighnaq.

"Let's split up," Wei Shentong suggested. His disguise had transformed him into a strange, imposing Yuan. Olive-green crystalline scales covered his body, stretched over a frame that looked almost as though it had been carved from packed stone. His hair had turned half-gold, while his hooves appeared to be made from solid jade. Most striking of all, his customary scowl was nowhere to be seen. His voice, too, had lost its usual severity. He sounded less as though he were issuing a command and more as though he were offering a suggestion.

Mo Jian approved. Not only of the change in tone, but of the idea itself. The nine of them had been cooped up together for quite some time, and moving through the city as a single group would only make them more conspicuous. Splitting up carried its own risks, but Mo Jian considered them manageable here. It would also give everyone a chance to spend some time apart and let their hair down, so to speak, given the state of his own hair.

Muxue nodded. Her golden pupils had deepened until they covered her entire eyes, leaving them a seamless, luminous gold. Her hair fell all the way to her hooves in long, flowing waves, while her scales were a much lighter shade of green than Wei Shentong's, closer to moss than olive. "I approve. We should still remain in groups of one or two, but splitting up should help us blend in better." She glanced up at the sun, gauging the time. "It's not even noon yet. Let's meet at midnight on the opposite side of the city, near the northern edge. Until then, everyone can do as they please. Just make sure no one gets caught. At midnight, we leave."

No one objected. In fact, most of the group looked rather pleased by the suggestion. For a moment, they exchanged glances in silent communication. Mo Jian was just about to suggest that he and Bai Ning go together when she drifted away to join her friends, their heads already bent together in conversation. He turned toward Muxue. She was already looking at him, one eyebrow raised. Mo Jian gave a sheepish grin. Well, it made sense. He was her guard, after all. Staying with the princess was hardly unusual.

Duan Cheng and Liu Rushi had already paired off, leaving Mo Jian with the same awkward question of whether he ought to say something or simply pretend not to notice. Wei Shentong, meanwhile, waited for no one. He shot away alone, still concealed beneath his jade formation. Mo Jian was not worried. Unless Urud Khan himself came looking for them, there was little in Sighnaq that Wei Shentong could not handle.

And so, the nine of them set out for Sighnaq, the encampment of Urud Khan and one of the first major cities they would encounter on their journey toward the heartlands of the Northern Steppes. They had twelve hours until midnight. Twelve hours to cross a foreign city, learn what they could, and perhaps enjoy a little freedom before regrouping at the appointed time. They would need to remain cautious, of course, but there was no reason they could not make the most of the opportunity.

For once, they were not racing against an enemy or preparing for a battle. They were simply visiting a city they had never seen before. Mo Jian found that he was rather looking forward to it.

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