A train chugged southwest on the Chinese Eastern Railway belching black smoke as it rattled along the tracks, the countryside streaking by in a viridian blur. At points along its steel path, peasants watched the locomotive pass in awe borne of rustic ignorance. Those aboard paid them little heed on this the maiden voyage of the now Manchurian owned rail line as they traveled from Harbin to Hsinking.

Numerous officials of notable repute shared the narrow, murky confines including Zhang Jinghui, Yoshisuke Aikawa, and Masahiko Amakasu. Joining them were representatives of the Northeast Administrative Committee, members of the Concordia Association, provincial leaders, numerous bureaucrats, and a detachment of Japanese soldiers from the Kwantung Army. The occupants noisily conversed over the clacking din, the soldiers being the loudest and crudest of all with cheap cigarettes dangling from their purple lips and vulgar tales springing from their tongues.

Toward the rear of the train, far from the machinations of power, the Emperor Puyi, his chamberlain Chu Kudo, and General Minami shared the imperial car. Dressed in the gaudy regal costume of his royal office, complete with well over a dozen glittering medals virtually obscuring his right side, Puyi sat on a couch sipping tea with his white gloved hands. Now and again the emperor fiddled with the tassels of his epaulets while admiring the ornate walls. Chu Kudo was posted behind his lord, his eyes locked on the back of General Minami who stood across from the chamberlain gazing out the window. Unlike Puyi, Minami was clad in the spartan uniform of a soldier; a katana belted to his side whose hilt the general stroked from time to time. Minami’s presence was a last second addition and a sign of how dangerous the situation in Jilin Province had become. After the loss of communications with Kwantung forces in the increasingly unstable region followed by sporadic intel and supposition concerning the deterioration of Japanese strength, Minami traveled south to observe the situation firsthand in order to determine what exactly was going on and what needed to be done to quell a revolt that threatened to explode into a full-fledged rebellion. Many heads would roll due to incompetence; that the general was sure of.

“Quite the spectacle wasn’t it,” Puyi offered over his steaming cup.

“Yes, it was,” Minami absently replied, still staring out the window at the passing plains.

“One would think we had conquered a nation rather than acquired a simple railroad.” Puyi sniffed, picking lint off of his braided sleeve before raising his cup for another sip.

“It is an important acquisition for the future of your empire,” Minami huffed.

“My empire?” Puyi put his cup down with a clink on the saucer. “I can’t even appoint my own prime minister, yet it is my empire?”

Minami turned around, stone faced. “Do you question my guidance? The Kwantung Army looks after your interests.”

“The Kwantung Army looks after its own interests,” Puyi spat.

“You are still upset over Zheng Xiaoxu I take it.”

Puyi leaned forward. “I am upset over a great many things, not the least of which is your refusal to show a proper deference to my authority.”

Minami gripped the hilt of his samurai sword tightly. “Without the Kwantung Army you have no authority, something your brother Pujie understands quite well. He respects what the Japanese offer your people. Remember, it was our swords, not divine right that put you on the throne.” The general’s eyes thinned to near slits, his voice acquiring an edge. “If you find your position untenable, perhaps you should resign like Xiaoxu.”

“Do not threaten me,” Puyi retorted. “You cannot even contain a peasant revolt.”

Minami cocked an eyebrow. “Is that where your audacity comes from? I can assure you this revolt will be crushed. And should I discover your complicity your reign will find a premature end.” The general returned to the window, a smirk twitching at the corners of his mouth when he glimpsed Puyi’s pained reflection in the glass. Eventually Minami’s attention passed once more to the jade plains and the fringe of forest on the horizon that gradually swelled and closed in on the tracks from either side until the trees darkened their path.

Wisps of smoke passed by the window which Minami assumed to be the exhaust of the train. It was only when the smoke began to thicken that he became worried. Up ahead the dark wood seemed to brighten. Turning a bend, the train rushed into an inferno. Fire raged through the forest, the sweet smell of burning pine seeping into the compartment. Minami pulled a handkerchief from his pocket and covered his nose and mouth to ward off the acrid stench. Puyi and Chu Kudo quickly followed suit. The blaze spat sparks that pinged off the train’s metal skin while trees engulfed in crackling flame collapsed several dozen feet from the tracks with loud cracks. If one were to fall along the rails…

“Stay in your seat,” Minami ordered when Puyi went to rise from his couch.

“What-?” Puyi coughed. “What is happening?”

“Forest fire.”

Chu Kudo joined Minami at the soot blackened window. “Fires are not common to this region. What could have caused this?”

In the blaze, Minami swore he saw the shadow of a light tank. “Partisans.”

Chu Kudo sighed in relief when the train finally cleared the conflagration, but they were far from safe. The plains they now entered were chewed up and cratered with deep lacerations gouging the earth. The smoking wrecks of armored Aikokus, Sumidas, and Type 92 Jyu-Sokoshas littered the distant fields along with the mangled bodies of Japanese soldiers.

The train came to an abrupt screeching halt nearly throwing them to the floor.

“Why have we stopped?” Puyi demanded, tossing his cup and saucer onto the table with a clatter before rising from the couch.

The muffled crump of a distant explosion went off. “We seem to have entered a war zone, your Highness,” Minami answered dryly.

The three exited the car and stepped down onto the embankment. They hurried toward the front of the train where they found a platoon of bedraggled soldiers demanding to be let on, the conductor angrily arguing with them to get off the tracks.

“What is the meaning of this?” Minami bellowed.

The soldiers snapped to attention when they saw the general. Their leader, a bloodied lieutenant, saluted. “Sir.”

Minami saluted back. “Why do you halt the emperor’s train?”

“We were ambushed, sir. He came out of nowhere.”

Minami took a step forward. “Who came out of nowhere?”

As the lieutenant went to answer, an armored vehicle hurtled through the air from the opposite side of the train smashing into one of the railroad cars before spinning off overhead. Everyone ran as the train and its myriad cars groaned and toppled over on its side.

“What was that?” Puyi yelled, his run slowing to a trot. Glancing over his shoulder he saw the crumpled remains of a Type 89 I-Go medium tank, the tread torn loose and dangling on the right side.

“Form a defensive line,” the lieutenant commanded. “Use the train for cover.”

The train’s passengers staggered out of the wreckage as the lieutenant organized his ragtag force. Captain Panaka limped toward Minami. “Orders sir?”

“I want all people of importance evacuated from the scene,” Minami replied. “Send a company to escort them. Whatever is left, send to me.”

“Yes sir.” Panaka disappeared into the melee setting about to instill order. Civilians were soon streaming west under guard while those soldiers who remained went to join the lieutenant’s platoon bolstering their defenses.

Minami reviewed the scene, barking orders and checking positions when he discovered Puyi and Chu Kudo inspecting the ruined tank that had been used for artillery. Minami grabbed the emperor by the arm and spun him around. “What are you still doing here? Join the evacuees.”

“I’m not going anywhere,” Puyi countered, pulling his arm free.

“Are you mad? You will evacuate with Captain Panaka-”

“He’s coming!” someone shouted.

Puyi and Chu Kudo turned and ran for cover behind the overturned train.

“Damnit,” Minami cursed, following after.

When he reached the defensive line, Puyi squinted and saw a figure through the curling haze. Whatever it was, the figure was charging toward them at an amazing clip.

“Fire at will!”

The Japanese aimed and shot a volley at Li Chen as he rushed towards them. Their bullets ricocheted off his chest, the scales now hard as steel.

“What is that?” Minami whispered.

“Lóng Wáng,” Puyi murmured.

“We can’t stop him!”

Li Chen collided with a knot of troops scattering them in all directions before he set about tearing their divided ranks apart with his bare hands. With sharp claws and raw power, he turned his enemy into quivering slabs of gutted meat painting the plains with their blood. In a gruesome display, he tore the arm off of a man and used it to club a clutch of combatants to death. One soldier’s sanity snapped when the gore of his comrade gushed in his eyes. He dropped his rifle and fell to his knees raking at his face, screaming insanely before Li Chen kicked him viciously aside. With the battle clearly lost and their will to fight shattered, what remained of the lieutenant’s platoon broke and ran rather than be slaughtered; their gutless withdrawal joined by many of Minami’s own forces.

“Cowards! You bring dishonor upon the empire!” Minami yelled at their backs. Li Chen turned at the shouts of the general, a cruel leer twisting his immature features. He strode toward Minami extending his talons. The Japanese commander took several steps back in abject terror. Only his ironclad resolve kept him from joining the lieutenant in dread flight. When the beast was within range, Minami’s head jerked toward the overturned train. “What are you waiting for? Fire!”

Japanese soldiers emerged from the windows of one of the railroad cars and loosed an enfilade into Li Chen. Their barrage stole his attention away from their commander who drew his sword in preparation for battle.

Li Chen swatted at the bullets, roaring in frustration at the soldiers who took cover in the train’s metal hide. The Japanese responded with several frag grenades, the force of their explosions nearly toppling the giant. Partially deafened and his face gashed, Li Chen shrieked in defiance, lowered his head, and dashed for the train. The men were knocked from their feet by the battering blow of Li Chen’s shoulder into the car’s undercarriage. The beast hammered the car twice more before he seized its frame. Grunting and straining, he slowly lifted and flipped the car over, the stress breaking the couplings holding it to the compartments on either side. The men shouted within in panic. The car now loose from the rest of the train, Li Chen made for the rear. Grasping the undercarriage, he gradually lifted the car vertical like a pillar, the entire structure moaning under the stress. The soldiers cried out as the car was slammed down onto the ground making the earth quake. Li Chen lifted and slammed the car again and again until it was a near unidentifiable ruin. He only stopped when the pitiful wailing of those inside ceased.

“Damnable oni!” Minami shouted.

Li Chen shoved the wreck aside and started toward the general once again. Minami brought his katana up and made a valiant drive toward his opponent. Though old, the commander was still agile and he side-stepped a blow from Li Chen bringing his sword up in an arc slashing at the monster’s back. His sword clanged and shattered on Li Chen’s armored shoulders. Minami could only stare slack jawed as the beast snatched him up and brutally ripped the general in half showering himself in viscera.

From behind one of the overturned railroad cars, Puyi and Chu Kudo continued to watch the carnage. Puyi was fascinated by the demigod. The Dragon King’s scales glinted in the sunlight like golden, divine armor protecting his enormous physique. Cantering around like a stallion, a two-foot long tail swung behind him. Atop his aberrant body, the beast’s human face surveyed the corpse strewn battlefield. “I never thought to see him,” Puyi breathed. The emperor stepped out from behind the car.

“Your Highness,” Chu Kudo whispered fiercely after his lord.

Li Chen turned in Puyi’s direction, a cackle gurgling in his throat. He focused on the approaching monarch, his tongue flicking out and tasting the air. Without warning Li Chen screeched, baring his fangs and flexing his arms threateningly causing Puyi to halt in his tracks.

“I mean you no harm,” Puyi quaveringly offered. “I am Aisin-Gioro Puyi, Emperor of Manchukuo. I ask only that you hear me.”

Li Chen stalked toward Puyi. The little monarch displayed courage, standing his ground despite the terror his face belied. Li Chen’s tongue flicked out once more. He could taste Puyi’s fear. It was foul. “Speak,” Li Chen rumbled gravelly.

“I have heard of your deeds, Lóng Wáng. You are an enemy of the Japanese as am I. They occupy my kingdom and butcher my people. They are a shadow upon my lands causing it to wither. I ask for an alliance. Aid me in driving the Japanese from my empire and I shall give you whatever you wish.”

Li Chen reached down and grabbed Puyi by his tunic to pull him up to eye level. “I do not need you.”

Chu Kudo came rushing out of hiding to defend his lord. “Your Highness-”

Li Chen hissed.

“No.” Puyi waved Chu Kudo back.

Li Chen held Puyi aside, his tongue flicking out in Chu Kudo’s direction. “Who is this?”

“My chamberlain. Do not begrudge his loyalty.”

Li Chen glowered menacingly at Puyi as he scrutinized the man. “My crusade is personal.”

Puyi swallowed, unnerved by the boyish yet demonic face staring at him. “Allow me to aid you in your crusade. My forces could help you. Come to my palace that you may rest. I would have a great feast in your honor. The people wish to see you, their savior.”

“My path lies north to Harbin, not west to Hsinking. I search for a man named Ishii.”

Puyi’s eyes widened. “I know of this man. It saddens me to tell you that he can no longer be found in Harbin.”

Li Chen pulled Puyi closer, his sharp teeth clicking together. “Where is he?”

“I do not know.” The hiss Li Chen released made Puyi shudder. “But I can find out.” Li Chen looked north and then west. “Please. Come to my palace. Let me help you. We have much to discuss.” Li Chen nodded and put Puyi down.

***

“Update,” Akkad rasped.

“The hybrid has engaged in well over a dozen documented battles,” the laelap’s avatar replied with a ripple. “Each confrontation has demonstrated his continued growth and evolution. His aggression and combat prowess have increased exponentially from his first meeting with the natives following alteration.”

“Show me.”

The laelap’s silhouette extended an arm and a holographic screen materialized in the ghostly pillar accompanied by the auditory thrums that played to the Cthon’s spatial sense of echolocation. Akkad studied Li Chen’s actions intensely from the woodland ambush to the battles raged on the Jilin plains. “The hybrid shows great promise, but his actions have begun to destabilize the region.”

“Collateral damage. Terminate feed.” The screen dissolved and the vibrations ceased. The daimōn paced around the cavern, his tail thrashing behind him as he circled the orange globe that represented Earth. “What of the Therian’s champion?”

“Unknown.”

Akkad fixed his predatory gaze on the laelap. “Unknown?”

“The intelligence sweep has been thorough with the resources at our disposal, daimōn. The orbital net has scanned the surface for visual confirmation of any kind and we have monitored all radio broadcasts originating from the planet. So far there is no evidence of a proxy.”

“I do not like this secrecy.” A cackling sounded in Akkad’s throat. He turned to the looming cultus seeking guidance. All the venerated offered was silence. “Something is afoot.”

“Perhaps the Therian has not been as successful as the Cthon in finding a proxy.”

“No.” Akkad bit at the air in frustration. “Send more probes. I want the Therian proxy found.”

“As you command, daimōn.” The avatar dissipated and the laelap hovered away.

Akkad sneered at Earth’s orange image floating before him. “I will find you, human.” The daimōn jabbed at the fuzzy sphere with a talon. “The Therian can’t hide you forever.”

***

Crimson dawn colored the heavens over Hsinking. Across the horizon, purple clouds obscured the stirring sun while the stars of twilight sank into the empyrean sea. The cool breath of Pangu blew from the scarlet east setting myriad wind chimes ringing throughout the capital signaling approaching morn. Already the broad avenues of the imperial city were filled with the anxious throngs of the emperor’s subjects. They numbered in the thousands. Merchants, monks, laborers, and others had gathered from all across Jilin Province when they heard the news; the Dragon King was coming. The whole of Hsinking lined the roads and filled every window waiting for his arrival.

There were cynics among the expectant, yet uneasy ranks who doubted the Dragon King’s existence. If there were gods, they had abandoned Manchuria long ago. Instead, they concluded that Puyi had crafted this figure to use as a symbol to break away from Japanese rule and to unite the disparate peoples of Manchukuo against occupation. What better figure to resurrect than that of a being sworn to save the Chinese in their darkest hour; Puyi, the spineless collaborator, using the Dragon King as a guise for subterfuge and rebellion. The point of this parade was obvious: Puyi came to announce himself as the Dragon King and declare independence from Japanese dominance. He intended to remake his image from one of servant to the accursed Japanese to that of Manchuria’s savior.

But there were some, especially those who had traveled from the rural regions, who trusted in the literal coming of the Dragon King. Truly these were evil times. The brutal rule of foreign Japan had left parts of Manchukuo desolate and the population terrorized. People disappeared in the night never to be seen again with only whispers of their dark fate. Others were enslaved. The Japanese steadily took more and more as the subjects of Manchukuo starved and withered away. The end of their civilization seemed nigh. With their armies broken and their leaders tainted by collusion with Kwantung forces, these superstitious peasants yearned for a divine answer to their prayers after all mortal attempts for freedom had failed. They held onto that last scrap of faith that their ancestors had not deserted them in these awful times. There was no one else left to save them, every faction seeking to abuse rather than liberate the suffering peoples of Manchuria. To the suffering subjects of Manchukuo, the Dragon King was their only hope.

Great changes had swept through the capital throughout the preceding tumultuous days. The Japanese campaign to quash the peasant rebellion had forced the Kwantung Army to divert troops from Hsinking leaving but a skeletal force to occupy the city. With Minami dead and Japanese strength shattered in the region, Puyi had finally given the order to his allies to attack. The Japanese garrison was seized after a quick, bloodless assault by Manchukuo’s Imperial Guard. Those Japanese officials who did not escape were rounded up and imprisoned. Hsinking itself was in shock. The maligned puppet king had dared to cut the strings displaying courage uncommon to the docile monarch. After all, the emperor had taken the reign title of K’ang The Tranquility and Virtue. The man would not even allow his servants to kill flies. To seek out conflict was unnatural for the timid man as was such duplicity. Many feared the repercussions of such actions for surely the Japanese would retaliate following Puyi’s betrayal. The occupation had been brutal before. How much worse would it get should the Japanese crush Puyi’s rebellion? Would the emperor be able to defend them from the wrath of Nippon?

A cheer went through the crowd when a messenger announced that Emperor Puyi was soon to arrive. They pushed and shoved, elbowing for a better view. Police officers lining the parade route had to grab one another’s belts to hold the surging numbers back with school children peeking out from between their legs. All watched in expectation toward the east past the sparkling Yitong River, an anxious murmur flowing through the masses.

The sun broke through the clouds bathing the entrance of Hsinking in a glorious radiance that made the bridge and gates glow like the celestial Queqiao. Emperor Puyi appeared to emerge from Yaochi, the gleaming abode of the immortals, as he entered the capital in triumph dressed in the traditional dragon robes of the Qing Dynasty. He was escorted by Manchurian forces marching in their finest uniforms carrying confiscated Japanese weapons. The crowd kowtowed immediately before their divine monarch in a crashing wave of subservience, bending down and touching their heads to the ground.

Puyi inspected the scene from horseback. Never had his subjects displayed such respect for him. When times for pageantry were necessary, the people of Manchukuo had to be forced to publicly appear at the sharp ends of Japanese bayonets. Even then, the numbers never matched the masses freely gathered around him now. His actions against the Japanese had finally drawn them to him. He was their savior.

A mild tremor gently shook the earth followed by another. Despite the deference owed to the emperor, many raised their heads to behold the coming of Li Chen. Struck dumb at the sight of the Dragon King, they failed to hear the commands to look away.

Li Chen sensed the attention he attracted and froze forcing the parade to halt. Silence settled over the city. Li Chen’s boyish face twitched timorously as his head jerked from side to side taking in the gaping faces. Was it horror in their eyes? Disgust? His tongue flicked out apprehensively while his tail snapped and fidgeted behind him. He found himself greatly distressed surrounded by that body of humanity. Why had he come? They must see him for the monster that he was. Heard of the carnage he had wrought. The city would drive him away. Li Chen wanted to run. His legs tensed.

“Lóng Wáng!” a child yelled ending the silence.

The crowd rose and shouted to the heavens in celebration. Li Chen took a step back, startled by the reaction. They pressed in towards him, reaching out to touch this demigod who had come to rescue them from the foreign devils. With tears in their eyes, they offered Li Chen thanks and devotion.

Puyi scowled at the scene playing out before him. Forgotten by his subjects, the Kangde Emperor and his escort continued on to the Imperial Palace leaving Li Chen to collect his accolades.

Next Chapter: Chapter 14