"Who gave you that authority?"
Zhao Xuan's question fell.
On the Clear Gate Register, the faint little seal suddenly stalled.
[Judgment-Ready.]
Two fragmentary words pressed beneath the little seal.
They carried little weight.
Yet they pulled both ends—Chaoge and Xiqi—taut at once.
Because those words did not say who followed the tide.
Nor did they say who defied it.
They said that someone could judge.
Killing intent flashed in Holy Mother Guiling's eyes.
"What gives it the right to judge?"
This time, Zhao Xuan nodded.
"You've reached the root of it."
He looked at the little seal.
"Chaoge is the old."
"Xiqi is the new."
"Those are merely the two ends."
"But which old power deserves to perish, and which new power deserves to rise, cannot sprout from place names on their own."
"There must be a seal between them."
"To stamp that judgment on its behalf."
Daoist Duobao's voice sank slightly.
"So [May judge] is what truly turns those two ends into following and defying the tide."
Zhao Xuan said:
"Exactly."
"Without this seal, Chaoge is merely Chaoge, and Xiqi is merely Xiqi."
"With this seal, Chaoge can be judged to defy the tide."
"Xiqi can be judged to follow it."
"When Wen Zhong defends Chaoge, he will no longer merely be defending his land."
"It will be written as a stubborn last stand against the tide."
Holy Mother Jinling said nothing.
She watched the thread of mortal fortune beneath Wen Zhong's name.
That thread of fortune had only just loosened a little.
Now the [May judge] seal had caught it again.
As though an invisible seal hung above Wen Zhong's head.
It had not yet descended.
But once it did, it could crush "a minister's duty" into "defiance of destiny."
Zhao Xuan raised his brush.
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