North of Suzhou City.
Demon Suppression Regional Headquarters.
Inside the main hall.
Seven or eight figures sat scattered about.
A huge map hung on the wall, densely marked with red and black dots.
Red represented human cities, black the places where demons and monsters held sway.
At a glance,
the black had spread like a wildfire, cutting off and surrounding each red dot.
A middle-aged man in a black robe stood before the map with his hands clasped behind his back.
He was not particularly broad-shouldered, even somewhat gaunt. His temples were graying, and fatigue showed at the corners of his eyes.
He was none other than Lu Jingchun, Commander-in-Chief of the Jiangdong Regional Command.
"Lord Lu."
A clear voice sounded from below the dais.
The speaker sat in the seat of honor on the left.
He was very young, barely into his twenties.
His plain white Daoist robe was spotless, and a wooden hairpin was tucked into his topknot.
He held a cup of tea, his expression composed, utterly at odds with the tension filling the hall.
And yet,
not one person in the hall looked down on him.
Some even regarded him with a measure of wariness.
Zhang Daoxuan of Dragon Tiger Mountain, the Little Celestial Master.
At just twenty-seven, he had already reached the pinnacle of the Ink-Dotting Realm. He also bore Dragon Tiger Mountain's secret arts, making him one of the foremost of Great Tang's younger generation.
He had come down the mountain to aid Suzhou.
Zhang Daoxuan spoke slowly. "That fiend was wounded, but its foundations remain unshaken. It has now hidden in the depths of Tai Lake, using its eight-hundred-li waters to heal. If we can't force it out..."
Lu Jingchun turned around and let out a long sigh.
"What Celestial Master Zhang says