“Careful with those planks! Lay the rubber-vine cushions flat along the ridge of their shells so the wood doesn’t chafe their armor joints!”
In the center of Red-Rock Salt Valley, two hundred fighters of Dry-Well Village swarmed around the twelve giant Rank 2 Armored Scorpion Kings like busy pit-crew mechanics.
At first, several of the newly recruited guards from Salt-Pool Town had trembling knees as they walked past the anvil-sized pincers and eight-foot poison tails to carry wooden planks onto the scorpions’ backs.
But within two minutes, they realized these twelve terrifying desert overlords were gentler than milk cows.
Whenever a carpenter needed to climb up onto Scorpion Number Three’s twelve-foot back, the giant beast actually lowered its front four legs to form a convenient stepping staircase! And when a fighter accidentally dropped a heavy iron buckle near Scorpion Number Seven’s head, the massive monster carefully picked the buckle up between the tips of its two huge pincers and handed it back without even scratching the paint!
“My Lord, all twelve stacks of wagon planks, rubber-vine pads, and iron belly-straps are in place!” Old Wei reported, wiping his brow as he stood beside the fourteen-foot Alpha Scorpion, Number One.
“Everyone step back five paces from the scorpions,” Pei Xuan ordered.
He walked down the line of twelve giant scorpions, placing his palm briefly against the wooden planks stacked on each beast’s back while activating the spinning blue Fusion Cube inside his mind.
Confirm!
HUMMMMM—CLICK-CLACK!
A wave of golden light rippled down the line of all twelve giant scorpions from Number One to Number Twelve.
Before the amazed eyes of the two hundred fighters, the loose piles of wooden planks, rubber-vine pads, and iron straps melted and reshaped themselves in three heartbeats.
On the broad twelve-foot backs of Scorpions `#1` through `#6`, sleek, low-profile wooden passenger cabins sprang into shape! Each bus cabin had five rows of six padded bench seats—enough for thirty full-grown men—protected by waist-high black-iron guardrails, folding side steps, and a stretched white canvas sun-canopy overhead to block the scorching desert glare. Underneath each cabin, thick coils of cured rubber-vine acted as natural shock absorbers between the scorpion’s shell and the floor.
Even more impressive were Scorpions `#7` through `#12`.
On their flat backs sat deep, hopper-shaped iron-and-hardwood dump beds reinforced with black steel ribs. At the front of each dump bed sat a heavy hand-crank lever connected to the scorpion’s own arched tail-joint: with one pull of the lever, the scorpion’s tail could lift the front of the box and dump ten thousand pounds of rock salt out the back tailgate in three seconds flat!
Chirp-squeak!
Scorpion Bus Number One gave an excited wiggle of its eight legs, testing the lightweight cabin on its back. Instead of feeling weighed down, the fused rubber-vine harness actually distributed the weight across its shell so smoothly that the giant scorpion felt lighter and stronger than before!
“Get out of here!” Scarface Wolf ran up to Scorpion Bus Number Two, climbed the folding iron side-steps, and bounced up and down on the padded bench seat with his big scarred butt. “It’s softer than the leather couch in my old bandit hall! And look—there’s even a little rack under the seat to hold our water skins and broadswords!”
“And look at these six dump beds!” Batu marveled, pulling the side lever on Scorpion Dump Truck Number Seven. At his touch, the giant scorpion obligingly raised its thick tail joint, tilting the iron-wood bed up at a forty-five-degree angle with a smooth clank before lowering it back down. “Before today, it took fifty camels two whole days to haul ten thousand catties of goods across the dunes. Now just ONE of these Scorpion Dump Trucks can carry ten thousand catties in a single load!”
“Don’t celebrate until the trucks are full,” Pei Xuan smiled, pointing toward the six wide caverns at the base of the red cliff where thick seams of sparkling pink-and-red crystal rock salt jutted out like frozen waterfalls. “Batu, Scarface, take a hundred men with the twenty [Wolf-Fang Rock-Cutter Pickaxes] and fill all six dump trucks to the brim! Captain Hu, take the other hundred men and use the spare sandstone blocks at the canyon mouth to build a proper perimeter fence, a watchtower, and a toll booth.”
“A toll booth, My Lord?” Captain Hu blinked. “Out here in the middle of a wild canyon?”
“Of course,” Pei Xuan said seriously. “Red-Rock Salt Valley is now official municipal mining land of Dry-Well Village. What if those four hundred Sand-Viper Smugglers—or my third brother Pei Lie’s tax collectors—ride in while we’re working? If there isn’t a clear ‘No Trespassing / Paid Parking Only’ sign at the front gate, how can Hong Ling legally fine them for trespassing and road wear?”
Hong Ling patted her canvas satchel proudly. “That’s right, Captain Hu! Look, I already painted the wooden signboards last night: ‘Welcome to Red-Rock Salt Mine — Unregistered Horses: 10 Silver Per Hoof! Unauthorized Shouting: 500 Silver Per Breath!’”
Captain Hu shuddered at the thought of anyone dumb enough to attack a place guarded by Hong Ling’s notebook, saluted smartly, and led his hundred men to the canyon mouth.
Meanwhile, inside the wide salt caves, the sound of mining sounded nothing like ordinary agonizing quarry work.
SHHHK! SHHHK! CRACK-THUD!
“By the Wolf God! Look at this pickaxe go!”
Batu swung his [Wolf-Fang Rock-Cutter Pickaxe] with one arm. The curved black-ivory tip sliced eight inches deep into the rock-hard wall of red crystal salt without even throwing a spark! With three quick vertical cuts and one horizontal pry, a solid five-hundred-pound block of glittering red rock salt broke cleanly off the cliff face and tumbled onto a wooden stretcher.
Four strong Rank 1 fighters picked up the stretcher at a jog, carried it outside, and dumped it with a heavy thoomp into the bed of Scorpion Dump Truck Number Seven.
Even the three hundred cat-sized Rank 1 worker scorpions refused to be left out. Seeing their twelve giant kings working for Pei Xuan, the three hundred little scorpions swarmed into the caves like an army of eight-legged ants, using their pincers to carry fist-sized chunks of loose salt rock out to the dump trucks in a neat, unending conveyor belt!
In less than two hours, all six Scorpion Dump Trucks (#7 through #12) were piled high with sixty thousand pounds of raw red rock salt.
At the canyon entrance, Captain Hu’s crew had already stacked flat red boulders into a sturdy breast-high wall with a wooden drop-gate and hung Hong Ling’s brightly painted toll signs right in the middle of the road.
“Captain Hu, leave fifty men and two Scorpion Dump Trucks here to guard the mine and keep cutting salt blocks,” Pei Xuan ordered as he climbed into the front seat of Scorpion Bus #1 right behind the giant beast’s armored head. “The rest of us will take the six buses, four loaded dump trucks, and thirty thousand catties of salt back to Dry-Well Village right now so we can cure everyone’s salt cramps before lunch!”
“All aboard!” Old Wei shouted, climbing into the front co-driver seat beside Pei Xuan while a hundred and fifty fighters eagerly piled onto the padded benches of the six Scorpion Buses.
Even Old Yellow and the twenty pack-camels were hitched to a light rope behind Bus #6—though as soon as Pei Xuan tapped the left and right antennas of Scorpion Bus #1 with a slender bamboo switch, Old Yellow realized he was in for the run of his life!
Chirp-SQUEAK!
Scorpion Bus #1 let out a happy whistle, raised its two big pincers slightly off the ground like front bumpers, and kicked all eight of its powerful jointed legs into high gear!
WHOOOOOOSH!
Red sand sprayed twenty feet into the air behind their tails as the convoy of Giant Armored Scorpions shot out of Red-Rock Salt Valley like black-red lightning bolts!
On the benches of Bus #2, Scarface Wolf had braced his hands against the iron guardrail expecting to have his teeth rattled out of his skull when they hit the first five-foot sand dune outside the canyon.
Instead, as Scorpion Bus #2 scuttled up and over the soft sand dune at a blistering forty miles per hour, its eight jointed legs moved in a rapid, rippling wave while the fused rubber-vine suspension absorbed every single bump!
The wooden bus cabin glided across the desert waves as smoothly as a pleasure boat floating on a calm lake!
“Hahaha! Look at my water bowl!” Scarface Wolf held up an open wooden bowl of Sweet-Spring Water while twenty-mile-an-hour headwinds whipped his beard back. The water inside the bowl barely even rippled! “Forty miles an hour over soft desert dunes, and not a single drop spilled! Even the Iron-Wolf Marquis’s four-horse war chariot shakes like a sieve compared to our Scorpion Bus!”
Behind Bus #6, Old Yellow’s eyes bulged wide as he galloped with all four Rank 2 golden legs spinning like windmills just to keep up with the giant scorpions’ casual cruising speed!
Fifteen miles of scorching desert wasteland—a trip that had taken the elite fighters nearly two hours of brisk marching at dawn, and usually took merchant caravans an entire day—flew past the bus windows in a blur of golden dunes.
Just twenty-two minutes after leaving Red-Rock Salt Valley, the twenty-foot-high [Elastic Iron-Mud City Wall] of Dry-Well Village rose into view ahead!
Up on the village watchtower, a young lookout shaded his eyes against the mid-morning sun—and nearly dropped his brass gong off the wall.
“G-Giant scorpions! Ten... twelve giant monster scorpions are charging the gate at the speed of galloping horses!” the lookout screamed at the top of his lungs. “Wait—why do they have roofs and seats on their backs?! Why is Uncle Scarface waving his hat out the window?!”
Before the guards could even close the gate, Pei Xuan stood up in the front cab of Scorpion Bus #1 and tapped the giant scorpion’s middle head-plate twice.
Screeech—HISS!
All ten forty-foot-per-second giant scorpions dug their rear claws gently into the packed clay outside the main gate, gliding to a synchronized, dust-free stop in two neat parallel rows right in front of the village square!
Inside the gate, over two thousand villagers—along with One-Eyed Jack, Old Guo, and even Boss Qian holding his toilet brush—came running out to see the commotion. When they saw Pei Xuan step calmly down the folding iron stairs of a fourteen-foot Armored Scorpion King while four Dump Truck Scorpions behind him carried mountains of glittering red rock salt on their backs, a roar of disbelief and awe tore through the entire village!
“Lord Pei tamed the Scorpion Kings of Red-Rock Valley!”
“Look at the size of those salt blocks! There must be forty thousand catties of rock salt on those four scorpions alone!”
Across the crowded square, two thousand five hundred floating Loyalty bars flashed bright gold, jumping another +3 to +5 points across the board!
“Back up Dump Truck Number Seven!” Batu shouted proudly from the cab of the first dump truck.
He pulled the tail-crank lever. Scorpion #7 arched its massive tail, tilted the iron-wood bed backward, and dumped ten thousand pounds of sparkling pink-and-red rock salt onto a clean stone tarp in the square with a thunderous CRAAAASH!
“Salt! We have salt!” Old Guo cheered, his fat belly jiggling as he waddled forward with an iron hammer and chipped off a fist-sized crystal of red rock salt.
Right beside the square, three giant cauldrons of unseasoned Meat-Potato broth were simmering over wood fires for lunch. Old Guo scooped a ladle of hot broth into a small test pot, crushed the chunk of red rock salt into powder, and stirred it in until it dissolved.
“Let me taste the soup first for the Young Master!”
Old Guo blew on his ladle and took a big, hearty slurp.
One second later, Old Guo’s round face turned the color of a pickled eggplant.
PFFFT—COUGH! COUGH!
Old Guo spat the mouthful of red broth straight onto the ground, sticking his tongue out and fanning his mouth with both hands while tears squeezed out of his eyes!
“Bitter! Ack—it tastes like rusted iron nails boiled in donkey piss!” Old Guo choked out, grabbing a bucket of Sweet-Spring Water to rinse his mouth. “Young Master! Don’t let anyone drink this! Just that one sip made the tip of my tongue go numb and my stomach twist!”
Down by the drainage ditch, Boss Qian’s eyes lit up with secret glee behind his toilet brush.
Aha! Just as I said! Boss Qian thought to himself, barely keeping his fat shoulders from shaking with laughter. Without the Marquisate Salt Bureau’s seven-stage charcoal-and-alum washing vats, the raw red rock salt from Red-Rock Valley is full of bitter earth-alkali poison! Even the Salt Bureau takes fifteen days of boiling and skimming just to turn ten catties of red rock into three catties of coarse gray salt! Even if Pei Xuan dug up a whole mountain of red rock with those terrifying giant scorpions, nobody can eat a single grain of it before their muscles lock up tomorrow!
Putting on a fake look of deep sympathy, Boss Qian leaned on his toilet brush and called out in a wheedling voice: “Aiya, Lord Pei, Chef Guo! Didn’t this humble prisoner warn you yesterday? That Red-Rock Valley salt has thousand-year red earth-poison baked right into the crystal! In the whole Western Desert, only your third brother Pei Lie’s Salt Bureau has the secret alum recipe to wash out the bitterness, and even then it takes half a month of boiling! If you let this humble prisoner write a letter to Salt-Pool Town’s black market, maybe I can still beg a few bags of edible salt for fifty copper coins a catty...”
“Shut your trap and keep scrubbing, Number Four!” One-Eyed Jack snapped, rapping Boss Qian’s wooden bucket with his measuring rod. “Have you forgotten where you are? When we came to Dry-Well Village, the well was a dry mud pit, the dunes only grew bitter roots, and the walls were crooked sticks! Has Lord Pei ever been stumped by a piece of rock?”
Around the square, the two thousand five hundred villagers—who had briefly looked worried when Old Guo spat out the bitter red broth—nodded their heads fiercely at One-Eyed Jack’s words.
“Foreman Jack is right! Lord Pei turned dry sand into five-pound lamb potatoes overnight!”
“What’s a little red sand in the salt? Watch Lord Pei work his miracle!”
Pei Xuan walked over to the forty-thousand-pound pile of red rock salt, picked up a pink crystal chunk, and looked at the glowing red warning box floating in his vision:
Pei Xuan tossed the bitter red crystal up and down in his hand and looked over at the village millhouse next to the Sweet-Spring Well, where an old cracked soy-milk stone grinder sat gathering dust.
“Old Guo, don’t throw out the soup,” Pei Xuan said with a calm smile. “Give me ten minutes by the millhouse. For lunch today, Dry-Well Village isn’t eating bitter yellow mud-salt or red poison-salt—we’re eating snow-white Spirit Salt that even the Iron-Wolf Marquis has never tasted!”