From Chef To Crafter To Conqueror: Book1 - Chef by Gabriel Rathweg

Author:Gabriel Rathweg [Rathweg, Gabriel]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Published: 2021-12-14T20:00:00+00:00

CHAPTER 11

The world burned and the men watched. Or at least one of them did. The pair, one young man and the other a blind old one, stood atop a high hill overlooking the conflagration of the once-great bastion of the Khan’s enemy, the Song. They were the once proud rulers of the eastern continent, with a territory that was even greater than his historic empire, the Romans.

Marco had learned this from his time with Dan Po, who was not only a fierce warrior and humble monk but a vastly knowledgeable scholar as well. He had always been a good student, even since he was a small child.

Marco’s father had told him that it was his merchant’s blood in him that made him crave knowledge. Whether it was from a book or an adventure the knowing what was on the other side of the mountain or across the ocean was the treasure.

Maybe this was the reason that Dan Po had taken the young man under his wing. Maybe it was for some reason known only to the blind monk but for whatever reason it was Marco was grateful for it.

Without Dan Po, he knew he would be nothing but a memory in this world. He shook his head again at the turning of fortune that had saved his life by introducing him to his mentor and friend before he looked back out to the sea of smoke and fire.

Stories of the crazed emperor Nero of the old Roman Empire came to Marco’s mind as he watched the once majestic Song city burn around them. The mad man playing his fiddle atop the Roman palace and dancing as his city was destroyed by the flames of war were strong in Marco’s imagination.

“It is as always with these things. Destruction is always easier than creation. For men and monsters to tear down is so simple and the Mongols are the most efficient and terrible in their diligence,” the monk said as if relating a poem to the night’s sky.

“How is it you see the ending of the city, Dan Po?” Marco asked, truly wondering how the blind man’s senses were able to recognize what his eyes couldn’t see.

“One doesn’t need eyes to see young one. I can smell the devastation in the air and hear the cries of death with my ears. I feel the whorls and eddies of the world around me and can sense what is happening. Even the life of the many hundreds of thousands that died and are dying can be sensed by this old body. You must learn of these things to grow stronger and wiser young Marco,” Dan Po said softly, but with weight to his tone that forced the young man to ingrain the words in his mind.

Already the pyramid of severed heads was rising on the outskirts of town and would only keep growing larger as the night wore on. It was almost as if the Mongols used it as a statue or a reminder that they were once here.

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