Chapter 110: Seizing Power: Fifth-Rank Battalion Commander, Three Great Ship Captains

Late February, more than half a month later.

Moon Harbor, the sandbanks outside the harbor channel.

A streak of blazing white light, sharp and sinuous like a dragon, swept through several grotesque creatures resembling oversized toads but bearing human hands and feet—fallen immortals. Blood splattered from them one after another as their bodies disintegrated, thudding heavily onto the ground.

Even in death, their webbed limbs twitched in the pool of blood; their mouths opened and closed, reciting a familiar incantation:

“The skin is a cage, the bones are shackles, the spirit is illusion. To achieve immortality, first refine immortal flesh.”

Blood stained the hem of Wang Cheng’s clothes, fresh droplets clinging to his blade dripping steadily to the ground. With a wave of his hand, he cast out a few talismanic papers, setting the sinister corpses ablaze until only ash remained.

Bang!

Not far behind him, Zhang Wen gripped a massive gilded matchlock rifle—more akin to a cannon than a firearm—and fired a silver-plated bullet that exploded the last fallen immortal’s skull. His strike was even more thorough than Wang Cheng’s; the creature collapsed instantly, silenced before it could utter another word.

This was the signature skill of the naval official known as the Silversmith—“Gilding.”

On February 16th, Zhang Wen had already been promoted to a seventh-rank officer, one step ahead of his brother Zhang Wu.

The spiritual resonance came from the third phase of the Awakening of Insects, symbolized by an eagle transforming into a dove—a sign that the once fierce metal energy of the eagle had softened into the gentleness of a spotted dove.

More precisely, the Silversmith was a “Gold and Silver Smith,” wielding formidable metalworking skills: capable of handcrafting barrels and gun tubes, and enchanting various tools and machinery with precious metals like gold and silver.

On the ship, his most valuable role was enchanting the bronze cannons, imbuing them with magical enhancements.

This was only the beginning of his work. With abundant gold and silver supplies, he planned to outfit the “Azure Garment” within a month, after which Wang Cheng would animate them into “Cannon Demons,” greatly amplifying their effectiveness.

“Captain, these invading evil spirits are all targeting our ‘Conception’ ship,” Zhang Wen reported. “Though their numbers are fewer than before, this wave of fiends is finally near its end.”

Wiping the blood from his treasured blade adorned with a dragon’s mouth motif, Wang Cheng sheathed his sword.

“Look on the bright side. The ‘Conception’ has drawn most of their firepower, so much of the coastal region under Minzhou’s governance has been spared their invasion. These invaders from beyond the wall are but a minor ailment here; elsewhere, they would bring great calamity. It’s our duty as naval officers to handle them.”

With a wave of his hand, the uniformly clad crew of the Azure Garment and members of the Mountain-Sea Society began clearing the battlefield, ensuring no trace of the fiendish blood or flesh remained to contaminate the local ecosystem.

For several days prior, the Nine Dragons Spitting Pearls Bureau had weakened the Mountain-Sea Society’s curse seals, allowing many bizarre fallen immortals to slip in clandestinely. Some pursued the immortal elixirs aboard five adventure ships; others attacked the raw material—humans—directly.

Together with pirates and ambitious factions, they stirred chaos throughout the East China Sea.

Yet, this turmoil indirectly prompted the Great Zhao Central Government to resolve to reform the twenty-four coastal naval garrisons, overhaul the military system, and decentralize recruitment and command authority.

By mid-February, the sovereign had issued a formal edict.

Lu Yi, who had returned to the capital aboard the “Jiang Hai Ao,” worked discreetly behind the scenes, ensuring smooth progress.

The Ministry of War’s appointments followed swiftly after the imperial decree reached “Wang Fugui,” a hereditary officer of the hundred-house rank.

In addition to his nominal official position of sixth rank, he was granted the practical title of fifth-rank battalion commander, authorized to recruit and train up to five hundred soldiers independently.

Hereditary officers below the battalion commander—such as thousand-house and hundred-house officers—and mid-to-lower ranking militia commanders like battalion leaders were now directly appointed by the Ministry of War, without requiring imperial intervention, streamlining the process.

Benefiting from powerful connections in the court, Wang Cheng was thus indelibly marked by the Lu family’s influence.

As for the officer positions promised by Lu Yuncheng to his crew, all were resolved. Both the chief and deputy commanders were appointed by the new battalion commander himself.

The Zhang brothers, Zhang Wu and Zhang Wen, rose alongside Wang Cheng, becoming seventh-rank paymasters on the imperial payroll.

As Zhang Wen walked back with Wang Cheng, carrying his gun in one hand and fiddling with the wooden fire-seal token at his waist, the young Dan people who had suffered humiliation and contempt since childhood felt a surge of pride.

“Captain, now that we have official posts, do you think we’ll never again be bullied by the provincial troops and officials?”

Unexpectedly, Wang Cheng shook his head and warned:

“Your status is what you make of it. Wearing an official’s badge brings convenience but also trouble. Only our own strength lets us stand tall.

“Be careful. Though we’re fortunate to have Lu family backing, enabling us to recruit and organize troops independently, not every thousand-house or hundred-house officer had such opportunities.

“They exploited their soldiers, driving many to desert, leaving only empty shells behind. If we don’t seize this chance to reform the military, the best they’ll become is petty landlords.

“So lately, in Minzhou’s jurisdiction, many resent us. When recruiting from the Dan people, you and Zhang Wu must be vigilant. That’s our foundation for survival and success amid the chaos in the East China Sea.”

Fortune hides calamity.

At the founding of the Great Zhao, the coastal navy was divided into twenty-four garrisons, each with fifty ships and 5,000 soldiers—a system called the “Weisuo.”

“Wei” garrisons were stationed in key towns; “thousand-house” and “hundred-house” posts were set up at minor passes and isolated checkpoints.

A commander led 5,000 men, a thousand-house officer led 1,000, a hundred-house officer 100, a battalion leader 50, and a company leader 10.

Each garrison contained varying numbers of subordinate thousand-house posts, cascading down through the ranks.

The garrisons maintained their own farms; soldiers farmed in peacetime and fought in war. Officers inherited their positions generation after generation.

Two hundred years later, sons of hundred-house officers were still hundred-house officers; commanders’ sons remained commanders.

In such circumstances, what if a common soldier dreamed of becoming a general?

Impossible—generals had their own sons.

The dynasty’s founder once proudly declared, “I raise a mighty army of a million without taxing a single grain or coin from the people!”

Alas, two centuries on, the Weisuo system had completely collapsed, beyond repair.

Hereditary officers were the system’s greatest grave diggers—usurping farmland, collecting ghost salaries, conscripting soldiers without cause, embezzling supplies—there was nothing they dared not do.

Now, the system had fully transitioned to recruitment-based service.

Though hereditary titles such as commander, thousand-house, and hundred-house remained as symbols of status and legality, most were empty titles.

Without substantive roles, their stipends barely surpassed that of commoners.

Those hereditary officers who successfully transformed found themselves beset by enemies on all sides.

Zhang Wen’s heart tightened, and he quickly replied:

“Yes, Captain, I understand.

“All recruits who pass the test will first pay homage to the Heavenly Consort, Lady Yan, and Prince Jing, ensuring our troops remain loyal.

“Lu Qianhu’s personal guards are also recruiting; I’ve placed many of our brothers among them.

“When the young master returns gilded, this force will know only Fourth Master, not the emperor.”

“That’s a good plan.”

Wang Cheng nodded approvingly. Zhang Wen, blessed by fortune and quick to seize opportunity, had a knack for strategic thinking—a fine choice as a tactical advisor.

After the military reforms, apart from selecting some uncorrupted elite officers for incorporation, the main fighting forces were all recruited from the common people.

Farmers, miners, Dan people, fishermen—no restrictions. Commanding officers had full authority.

The famed generals Yu Long and Qi Hu, with their Yu and Qi family armies, had piloted such recruitment years earlier; it was no longer novel.

Consequently, many garrisons were merged or restructured.

“Wang Fugui,” a hundred-house officer and battalion leader under the Baoshan thousand-house post, was reassigned.

Zhenhai Garrison, once one of the four great garrisons, was retained.

However, Baoshan’s garrison town had become the global trade center Moon Harbor, no longer suitable for military use.

Given that the Five Peak Banner and Mountain-Sea Society had defeated the powerful gentry faction and the allied Japanese pirates, the court sent officials and Mountain-Sea Society representatives led by Shen Yuting of the Direct Tax Hall to broker an agreement:

“The Baoshan thousand-house post will continue to garrison troops in Moon Harbor, recruiting many local civilians—young men and sailors—to serve. Outstanding recruits will be granted official ranks. Lu Yuncheng, of non-gentry origin, will serve as the fifth-rank thousand-house officer and battalion commander.

“Meanwhile, ‘Wang Fugui,’ holding hereditary hundred-house rank and Direct Tax Hall disciple status, will act as the de facto deputy thousand-house officer, assisting Lu Yuncheng.

“There will be no concern of the garrison menacing the region.”

Moreover, after the defeat of the gentry faction’s four great captains, the civilian faction secured full control over Moon Harbor.

Wang Cheng was duly elected the third great captain as he desired.

Once his sister Ah Xiao rebuilt the Octagonal Tower and the Eight-Directional Pavilion Bureau, he, along with Huang Yuanzhou and Han Zechang, would become the new triumvirate governing Moon Harbor.

Though his rank remained somewhat low, his power and prestige surpassed that of the original eight captains.

As the vital link between the Mountain-Sea Society and the court, his position was indispensable.

With the latent, overwhelming aura of a mighty dragon, even veteran officials felt uneasy in his presence.

“I feel somewhat unworthy of my rank, my strength unbalanced. Martial virtue must match authority; otherwise, disaster awaits.

“Tomorrow brings the awaited ‘Thunder’s Voice’ phase, when I will also serve as Court Attendant Gentleman, learning my master’s ‘Five Emperors’ Golden Coin Sword’ technique.”

As Wang Cheng and his battle-worn company entered Moon Harbor, they were greeted by a stream of well-wishers.

“Fourth Master! Our tavern just brewed a batch of fine wine; please do come taste it when you have time.”

“Captain! I have ideas for the old harbor warehouse; may I visit your office to discuss?”

“Fourth Master, the sisters at the Red Courtyard eagerly await your visit. If you stay the night, fifty taels per girl. They don’t take it from you—it’s their gift to you, ha ha ha.”

“Next time for sure.”

Wang Cheng quickened his pace, making a hasty retreat.

Unnoticed, in a reserved chamber atop a nearby tavern overlooking the harbor, a middle-aged man in official robes with a grim expression watched him intently.

Only after Wang Cheng’s figure faded into the distance did he speak calmly to his companion:

“I have requested the Inspector Censor Wang Bengu to petition the Ministry of War to give our local hereditary officers a chance—meritocracy over nepotism.

“When the time comes, you will challenge those recruitment officers. Break this young man’s limbs as a favor to his patron, Young Master Lu.

“Our commander no longer wishes to see traitors feeding from within.”