Chapter 7: The Merman Royal Court

What is the World Tree? The World Tree is a mythical, towering tree said to serve as the window between gods and mortals. The colossal tree before him indeed bore some resemblance to the legendary World Tree. If possible, Liang Yuan would not hesitate to allow it to become the World Tree of this world—a window linking gods and men.

At this thought, Liang Yuan smiled silently, then suddenly addressed the tree: “What do you think would happen if the races on land, like you, gained wisdom? Or rather, which race would you most wish to see enlightened? Birds, insects… or perhaps those little animals you shelter beneath your boughs?”

With that, Liang Yuan looked at the great tree with keen interest, eager to hear its answer.

Without the slightest hesitation, the intent of the World Tree reached him: “Not insects. I dislike them.”

Plants’ natural enemies are insects—this much is undeniable. Though not all insects dwell within great trees, even a single burrowing insect is enough to cause a tree discomfort, breeding a lasting animosity toward the entire insect kind.

Upon hearing this, Liang Yuan smiled and pressed on: “Now, with my blessing, you are invulnerable to blade or flame; no insect can threaten you any longer. Given this, would you still refuse to choose insects?”

“Hmm…” The World Tree hesitated, but soon answered resolutely, “Even so, I still remember the pain they caused me.”

Then, with a touch of joy, it said, “I like birds. They catch insects for me and kill those that burrow into my heart.”

Return good for good, and justice for harm. Though birds hunting insects is but nature’s way, to the World Tree, birds were undeniably friendlier than insects.

As for the squirrel-like creatures under its protection… they were neither foe nor benefactor, and thus the great tree held no particular opinion of them.

“In that case, let the birds take the stage first,” Liang Yuan declared, waving his hand. Radiant light poured forth, the essence and spirit of heaven and earth seeming to gather in his palm, coalescing into tangible brilliance.

Across the land, a great bird, nearly a meter in length, suddenly noticed a glowing point on the ground. Its form gradually descended, drawn irresistibly toward the light.

To the bird, this luminous point seemed to be the most beautiful thing in all the world.

With a whoosh, the great bird flapped its wings and landed softly. Its stately bearing pleased Liang Yuan, and as the bird drew near, he reached out to stroke its feathers; the bird responded with calm and trust.

Gently caressing the bird’s wings, Liang Yuan spoke in a soft, soothing voice:

“The essence of life shall bloom within you. Fly, soar ever higher, ever swifter. Carry this essence to every corner of the world. From this day forth, you are the progenitor of a new generation—the founder of the Feathered Race.”

…

Beneath the vast sea, waves rippled gently.

Massive stones were being lashed tightly to the backs of giant fish with seaweed by the merfolk, who then led the fish deeper into the ocean’s heart. One group after another, the merfolk drove the fish before them, transporting great quantities of goods—coral, boulders, pearls… If one could gaze from above, one would see all the merfolk moving in the same direction.

At the heart of a dazzling coral reef, a radiant palace stood out amidst the vibrant hues. To call it a palace was an understatement, yet “mansion” seemed insufficient. Around the pavilion, luminous pearls hung suspended, each one emitting a gentle white glow, brightening the reef beneath the deep sea and illuminating the land below.

Merfolk armed with stone spears patrolled the coral groves, while schools of fish sometimes darted among the reefs. The scene faintly echoed the legendary Dragon Palace of the Eastern Seas, though the architecture was humbler, a little rough around the edges.

Within the palace, a broad flight of steps separated the king from his subjects. Atop those steps the throne was set high.

Quansian lounged upon the throne, a crown adorned with a sapphire resting on his brow. Quanke lay in his embrace, a fierce shark tattoo emblazoned across his chest, radiating explosive strength.

In just a few decades, Quansian had unified the merfolk of the surrounding seas. Drawing upon his knowledge, he instructed the merfolk; though they still lacked full understanding, years of his guidance had taught them to heed his commands.

Of the founding of a true civilization, Quansian knew little. Once, he had bowed and scraped at the feet of the Primeval God; now, he wished only to rise above all others.

Thus, he ordered the merfolk to build beautiful palaces, to raise for him a throne, and to construct ever more splendid edifices.

In this way, the mark of the merfolk was set upon the ocean, proclaiming them as its lords.

Quansian appointed his most trusted followers to oversee each building, granting them names and the right to bear the prefix “Quan.” Most of these confidants were kin of Quansian and Quanke; their bonds of blood could not be severed, and Quansian trusted them above all others.

These building clusters together formed the royal court of the merfolk, and these relatives comprised the merfolk nobility.

The next rank was held by those merfolk who had originally followed Quanke in defecting to Quansian’s side. Having received Quanke’s instruction for fifty years, they obeyed every word, and were Quansian’s earliest supporters—his first spears and shields, the scouts who helped him chart the seas and establish his dominion.

Next came the other merfolk tribes whom Quansian had encountered and subdued; they willingly accepted his rule. They too bore goods, but were permitted to use the court’s domesticated fish, needing only to ensure their safety.

Finally, at the lowest rung, were those who had refused Quansian’s rule and tried to resist by force. They paid for their defiance with their labor, building the court with their own hands. Most of these had red tail fins—unlike Quansian’s green, Quanke’s blue, or the few black-finned merfolk. They never considered themselves kin to Quansian and had never left behind their savagery.

For these “tribesmen,” Quansian chose the lash, forcing them to submit and to atone for their defiance by toiling for the court.

“Your Majesty!”

Suddenly, a voice echoed from outside the palace. A blue-finned merfolk swam in, looking respectful as he addressed Quansian: “We have… discovered… new kin… They are white-finned…”

Blue fins marked Quanke’s kin.

Quansian lifted his eyelids, glanced at Quanke beside him, yawned, and replied slowly, “Very well. As always, bring them to the court for instruction.”

Seeing the merfolk linger, Quansian’s patience waned. “What else?” he asked.

“Your Majesty… Quan Hui… has given birth…”