Suoming

The rain stung Suoming's eyes. Wiping the drops away with her shoulder, she cleared her vision for one last look at her parents' faces worn past recognition by the Evil Miasma. She gripped a spade nearly as tall as herself and laid the final clod of earth upon the grave. Across the mound, the girl who would become the First Seal lowered her own spade. Raised by Suoming's parents, she had long considered them her own family.

"So... what do we do now?"

Suoming looked into the distance, raising a hand toward Huating. Its massive gates were sealed tight against the black curtain of rain.

"They shut us out to be bait for the Evil Miasma... but I will bring everyone home."

Beyond the walls, the land had long been forsaken. Alongside the constant threat of the Evil Miasma, bands of ruthless outlaws ran rampant. Suoming walked every village outside Huating, bearing witness to orphans left adrift, families driven out, and survivors who had lost everything. The people beyond the walls needed order, and Suoming needed the supplies and strongholds to keep them alive. She scattered the bandits, stood against the Evil Miasma, and shielded the villages. Year by year, people gathered at her side until a true sanctuary took shape.

Suoming was ready.

When the Evil Miasma finally pressed down upon the city once more, Huating's garrison retreated behind their walls as always, intent not on saving, but only on keeping the desperate out.

Suoming advanced alone to face the Tacet Discords surging from the Evil Miasma. Meanwhile, the First Seal brought the Thousandweight Pin to the city gates. As its heavy gears turned, the mechanism pried the massive gates open, and the waiting crowd surged inside. By the time Suoming cut down the final Tacet Discord and stepped through the entrance, the guards were clutching their weapons in terror. They fruitlessly ordered the crowd back, frantically demanding the gates be shut, as if sealing out the world would keep calamity at bay.

Suoming's gaze passed over the anxious crowd, over the sprawling rooftops, and rested on the grand manor towering above the city center. Resplendent amid the storm-tossed ruins, it was the residence of Huating's Chief of Records.

Suoming nodded quietly to herself. The path she had spent years planning had finally taken its first step.

Suoming knew taking Huating by force and striking down its Chief of Records would be easy. But the city's power play ran deep and tangled. Eliminating the chief would not bring true peace, nor would it win the trust of the people. To destroy his hold, she had to dismantle the pillars supporting his authority.

The first was the city's most arrogant swordsman. Hired at great expense by the Chief of Records, his formidable Forte allowed his blade to slice through iron like mud. Relying on that reputation, he gathered a gang of his own. Many who despised the Chief of Records still trembled before his steel.

When Suoming tracked him to a tavern, his men snickered as they let the petite young woman upstairs: "What does a kid know about drinking?"

Moments later, the second-story window shattered. A single sword hurtled downward, embedding itself in the street below. The gang fell dead silent as they recalled a rumor from the West Gate: the leader who had broken into Huating was a short girl with red hair.

Sobered instantly, the swordsman picked himself up and clashed with Suoming for dozens of rounds before collapsing in exhaustion. Suoming looked down at him. "With skill like yours, why serve evil? Come with me, and we'll wipe out the Evil Miasma."

The swordsman would go on to become the Third Seal. He later admitted that Suoming's grand ambitions had meant little to him at first. What won him over was her willingness to wield absolute power without ever bullying the weak, and the shame that realization stirred in him.

With the chief's blade dealt with, Suoming turned her sights toward the city's other power—its wealthiest merchant clan. For generations, they had amassed inexhaustible fortunes in gold, jade, and brocade. Suoming intended to request their financial support, but upon her visit, she met only the clan’s young lady. The girl asked hesitant questions about the outside world, hiding a secret too heavy to speak aloud.

The First Seal sensed something amiss and advised caution. But when the clan head openly boasted that the Evil Miasma was an opportunity to hoard goods and inflate prices rather than fight, Suoming realized words were pointless. That night, she slipped into the estate and brought the young lady out, learning the truth from her own lips.

The young lady possessed a Forte that could replicate any object, which is in fact, the true secret behind her family's vast fortune. In return, they had kept her imprisoned in the inner halls year after year, forcing her to copy every treasure brought before her. Once the Evil Miasma isolated the city, she became the clan's source of endless treasures. However, years of captivity and constant depletion of her Forte had left her spirit withered.

Suoming told her plainly: "I can free you, but beyond freedom, I have nothing to give." The young lady followed without a second thought.

Years later, whenever the Fourth Seal combed Suoming's long hair, Suoming would often sigh: "I should have simply freed you from that mansion and left it at that. I never should have dragged you into this war."

The Fourth Seal would only shake her head, gather up Suoming's red hair, and hum a quiet verse of her own making. It's her gentle way of giving thanks.

"How many years has it been since you came to me for the Thousandweight Pin? You kept your word. You brought our people back to Huating and tore down that accursed regime. When the gates opened and the crowds flooded in, the city didn't collapse into chaos. It took on new life. Every bit of it was bought with you and your followers."

"Huating hangs on your every word now. People placed faith in your strength. If you raised a single hand, the whole city could march out and wipe the Evil Miasma away forever."

"But the people behind these walls haven't seen the true calamity. They've never watched black rain drown the soil and wither the earth. They've never seen a loved one eroded past recognition. We have. When I built that pin for you, my only goal was to bring the stranded home. As for defeating the Evil Miasma... I never thought it possible. So don't try to talk me into this again. I won't waste what little strength I have left on a futile cause. And I suggest you... stop chasing it, too."

Suoming looked down at the cup of clear local white tea before her. At the bottom, the emblem of the Ministry of Development rippled faintly in the brew.

"Huating today isn't my doing alone. The Sixth Seal reads people well and is eloquent beyond measure. It was she who walked the streets, maneuvering deftly among the city's competing factions to earn the people's trust for me. Without her, Huating might never have believed."

"As for the Evil Miasma... there is a physician who, too, has witnessed firsthand the Blight Rain that gnaws bone and the Miasmic Thunder that devours men. Had she surrendered to grief, she would never have probed the nature of the Evil Miasma, nor found a way to combat it. The Fifth Seal has designed a mask capable of resisting the erosion. It awaits only a master craftsman to forge it. Once complete, the Fourth Seal can replicate as many as we require. With those, we will finally be equipped to step into the Blight Rain. But that alone is not enough. I need you to forge a weapon..."

The old man leaned in, waiting for her to continue.

"I will claim its power. In battle, I will weaken the Evil Miasma. Even if I can seize only a wisp of Blight Rain or a thread of Miasmic Thunder, I will seal it within the weapon. My body may have its limits, but I will master its power and find a way to conquer it."

"Then... what kind of weapon do you envision? A sword? A broadblade? With internal mechanisms, it could—"

"An umbrella would be best."

"An umbrella...?" He turned toward the window, gazing into the distance. "I see. Against the Blight Rain that fills the heavens, there is indeed no finer shield than an umbrella to shelter Huating from the storm."

He turned back to Suoming.

"Very well... by your own ranking, where do I stand now? Am I the Seventh Seal?"

Suoming finally raised her teacup, a rare smile gracing her lips.

"I have been holding that place for you all along, Second Seal."

Not long after the Eighth Seal joined the Covenant, the Vermillion Locks were finally complete. Suoming intended to use them to borrow the other nine Seals' abilities against the Evil Miasma. Yet, having never attempted such a feat, even her calm expression hid a trace of hesitation. For a brief moment, she pondered who should step forward first.

It was the Seventh Seal who volunteered. As a soldier of the Ministry of War, he insisted it was only right that he take the lead.

When Suoming had originally ousted Huating's Chief of Records, the Ministry of War was freed from its shackles. Most of its soldiers eagerly pledged their support, save for the Seventh Seal, who stubbornly refused to yield. To him, no matter how heinous the chief's crimes, he remained Huating's legitimate authority. Suoming, a mere commoner, had no right to replace him. In those early days, the Seventh Seal opposed her at every turn.

It was only when Suoming escorted him beyond Huating's walls to witness the villages buried beneath the Blight Rain that his resolve shattered. Standing silent among the ruins, he asked her with reddened eyes: "Could Huating truly be spared such tragedy from now on?"

The answer needed no words. From that day forward, the Seventh Seal remained the same steadfast, rule-abiding soldier. He shouldered every burden while insisting that, regardless of Suoming's standing, she was still a citizen of Huating, and it was his duty to protect her.

Accepting his goodwill, Suoming set about sealing a fragment of his frequency into her lock. Moments later, a wisp of mist materialized in her palm—faint, but unmistakably the Seventh Seal's Forte. Simultaneously, the umbrella resting beside her violently shuddered. With a deafening roar, a bolt of crimson-black thunder burst from the umbrella, shattering the courtyard wall.

As the others stood in stunned silence, the Eighth Seal approached the rubble, inspecting the Miasmic Thunder still crackling among the debris.

"Have you ever wielded two powers at once before?" she asked after a quiet pause.

Suoming shook her head.

"A fraction of your mind is constantly spent suppressing the Evil Miasma sealed within your umbrella. Borrowing the Seventh Seal's power alongside it likely triggered the instability."

The Eighth Seal had been brought into the fold by the Seventh Seal. Suoming remembered their first meeting, when the Eighth Seal had bypassed formalities to ask for an exhaustive account of every battle she had fought against the Evil Miasma over the years. They spoke for an entire day, emerging only as dusk faded into night. Afterward, Suoming announced to the others that their plan was complete.

According to the Eighth Seal's design, one would have to venture directly into the swirling black clouds alongside Suoming. The moment Suoming bound the entity, this ally would drive a dagger charged with the Eighth Seal's Forte into its core, forcing it out of the cloud's protection and into an open battle with them all.

Yet every Seal already bore a vital role, and none could be spared for such a perilous gambit.

They needed someone else. One last person...

"And that is how I came to know the Eighth Seal." Suoming let out a quiet breath, relaxing into the back of her chair. "As for the last one... the Ninth Seal..."

She paused, taking a moment before continuing. "Our meeting was rather ordinary. That day, I was walking down the street alone when I spotted a piece of... floating rice cake."

At that, the Sentinel gave a slight nod. Suoming guessed It might be smiling.

"She was starving, and using her Forte to stay invisible, she was stealing food from the street vendors. So I stood there and waited. When she drifted past me, I stuck out my foot and tripped her. Ninth tumbled to the ground, her invisibility breaking. She turned around to curse me, but stopped dead in her tracks."

"You frightened her."

"Yes." Suoming nodded gently. "My expression must have been terrible, because I knew she was the one—the Ninth Seal. I would have her draw close to the Evil Miasma to strike the killing blow, and then... she would be discovered and killed on the spot."

"And you told her all of this."

"I did." Suoming reached out, her fingers brushing the Vermillion Locks at her side. "But what good did it do? Ninth loved to trail behind me, calling me 'Sister Suoming' at every turn. Whatever I said, she simply nodded along. She even styled her hair to match mine. Within days, she had stopped fearing me entirely. No matter how I reasoned with her, no matter what I told her, she only smiled... afraid of nothing."

Suoming's voice grew softer, fading into silence with a quiet sigh. The Sentinel knew she needed no comfort. Even this grief, she wished to carve deep into her heart. It required no empty words, only a path forward.

"Suoming, I appreciate everything you have done for Huating. But I have nothing left to reward you with. I must even ask you to keep fighting for Mengzhou."

"It's fine." Suoming lifted her head, the gloom vanishing from her eyes. "Tell me what you need of me. Tell me how to ensure the Evil Miasma never threatens Mengzhou again."

"...Very well. Take out the Vermillion Locks. I have one final duty to entrust to you."