After the strained energy channels had sowhat stabilized, I decided to inspect the collapse site again. A sizable crowd had already gathered—after all, this was no ordinary event. It seed there were still many survivors trapped under the rubble. That was a relief.
The iron door proved useful as a portable cell for Long Feng. I encased his body entirely, leaving only the area around his nose and mouth exposed for breathing. With Lao's people yet to arrive, I took the opportunity to examine the prisoners held here. When I had scanned the catacombs earlier, I'd sensed nurous captives.
Soon, I stood before the first door, behind which a living person was confined. Along the way, I had to help so agents "rest"—they had inconveniently begun regaining consciousness.
The room was dark, barely illuminated. Near one wall sat an emaciated man of indeterminate age. His overgrown hair obscured any clues to his exact age.
"There is no war. Ba Sing Se is the safest and most prosperous city. There is no war..." he droned monotonously, rocking back and forth, his voice like a broken record.
"Hey, how are you?" I approached, trying to rouse him. But he remained unresponsive to my touches and nudges.
"Probably one of the brave ones... or fools who spoke the truth openly," I thought. This man clearly needed a skilled therapist—unfortunately, that's not .
The next five cells were nearly identical. The prisoners differed, but their words were variations of the sa the. It wasn't until the sixth room that I found soone lucid.
"You're not from the Dai Li!" he exclaid, his face tense with anxiety. Despite his tattered clothes, he carried himself like an intellectual. Or perhaps he was already hysterical. "Did you feel those tremors?! It's all my fault..." He clutched his dirty hair, despair etched on his face.
"I managed to prevent nearly ninety percent of the intended damage," I said, placing a hand on his shoulder. "Tell , why do you bla yourself?" I pressed gently.
"Yes, the tremors should have been far stronger," he muttered before eting my gaze. "If it's truly you, thank you on behalf of the Earth Kingdom," he bowed deeply. "The thing is... I created those bombs for them," he admitted, head lowered, unable to et my eyes.
"It seems you had no choice," I said. He didn't strike as a skilled enough actor to feign such guilt.
"Thank you for understanding," he said, tears welling up. "You're right. My na is Ubumi. I was once a university professor, working on explosive mixtures as a side project. I shouldn't have discussed it with colleagues. Maybe one of them reported ..."
According to him, he was swiftly charged as a traitor, accused of plotting to blow up the Earth King's Palace. In truth, he'd rely been fascinated by the subject. That sa day, he was brought here and faced a grim choice: create bombs for them or condemn his family to a grim fate. To ease his conscience, they insisted the bombs were to counter the Fire Nation. But knowing the Dai Li, he doubted that—though he had no choice but to comply.
"I hope to atone for my actions," he concluded, finally noticing the restrained Long Feng.
"Serves him right! That's the true face of the enemy!" Ubumi kicked Long Feng's cell. But...
"Ouch!" He hopped on one foot, rubbing the other. Iron proved stronger than flesh.
In the next cell, we encountered another coherent prisoner. An elderly man with gray hair sat reading, his gaze quickly assessing us as if noting details.
"A Healer of Souls?!" Ubumi seed to recognize him. "You were here too?!"
"For many years," the man replied calmly, almost detachedly. "And you?"
After quick introductions, the three of us continued. The so-called Healer of Souls seed reluctant to share his story. Fortunately, Ubumi, eager for conversation, whispered details about the old man.
"Healer of Souls" was a nickna given by Ba Sing Se residents. From what I gathered, he was a psychologist of sorts, known for restoring ntal balance. Even the university's forr rector had tried to establish a new faculty for him, eager to recruit such a unique figure. But he always declined politely, insisting his manuscripts—soon to be books—would teach far more people. Then, one day, he vanished.
"I didn't vanish," the old man said grimly, silencing us. We'd either spoken too loudly or his hearing was exceptional. "Like many, I was abducted from my ho. Long Feng excels at exploiting weaknesses... and he's even better at finding ways to pressure you..." His voice trailed off, likely recalling painful mories. "He quickly forced to develop mind-control thods. The result? Hundreds with shattered minds, all for one system. I no longer wish to practice..."
"I never t him personally, but acquaintances described him as kind and gentle," Ubumi whispered, even quieter now. Clearly, he'd been broken...
Later, we encountered several mbers of the Beifong family. For six months, they'd been Lao's eyes and ears, preparing this operation. They looked slightly better than the earlier prisoners, but their scars and jittery behavior spoke volus.
Half an hour later, Bumi's people arrived with good news. Everything had gone according to plan above ground. Casualties were minimal. Taking Long Feng, the Dai Li leader, with , I hurried to Lao. The chaos's mastermind would be useful—soone to pin all the bla on.
The area near the Palace was cordoned off by city guards. Our n spotted imdiately, granting access to the collapse site. The death toll wasn't as high as feared; many residents had powerful benders who'd protected their masters.
Soon, I spotted Lao himself, alongside... Earth King Kuei. I quickened my pace, arriving just in ti to hear an intriguing tale.
"It's all thanks to Bosco!" Kuei warmly embraced his human-clothed bear. "These past months, he's often dragged beyond the outer walls. But today, he was unusually restless, pacing endlessly. He insisted we stroll through the middle ring."
That explained it... I'd heard animals sense impending disasters better than humans. His furry friend had saved his life. Fate, it seed, didn't intend for Kuei to die. Honestly, the King bore no direct fault. Crowned at four, he'd been raised entirely by Long Feng, who'd molded him into an indifferent puppet.
"Gentlen," I interjected, "I've brought Long Feng." I pushed forward the iron sarcophagus containing the living man.
"I still can't believe Uncle Long Feng could be... so evil," Kuei sighed, staring at him with deep disappointnt. In a way, Long Feng had replaced his father.
"Sadly, it's true," Lao said gravely. "He was willing to sacrifice the entire city to retain power."
I'd been inford that rescuers had found blast traces and were already retrieving Long Feng's remaining "gifts" from the walls. They worked efficiently.
"At the main base, I found many prisoners who can confirm his cris."
"What now? The nation's at war... and I don't know where to start! Just yesterday, everything was so simple..." Kuei lanted. Bosco imdiately embraced him in support.
"The people, once they learn the truth, will be outraged," Lao said, seizing the mont. "The best solution is for you to voluntarily cede the throne to soone who can shoulder this burden in such trying tis."
"But who's willing to take on such a load?" Kuei didn't even object to the idea. "Lord Lao!" He paused, deep in thought. "Even I've heard rumors of Gao Lin Province's rapid developnt! Your abilities et all the necessary criteria. Please, help our people through these trials," Kuei pleaded, removing his headpiece—a crown-like symbol of authority—and offering it to Lao.
"Like you, I care deeply for the Earth Kingdom's people, and I can't ignore this chaos," Lao said seriously, eting Kuei's gaze as he accepted the headpiece. "Let's finalize the paperwork swiftly, so nothing hinders our actions," he added. This... proved far easier than expected. Kuei truly had no grasp of politics, did he?
While docunts were prepared, Lao issued several orders. First, arrest General Sang and keep a close eye on General Hau. After all, Hau had turned a blind eye to the capital's abuses. Indirect guilt was present. Second, extract information from all active criminal gangs. Their upper-ring patrons must be exposed. We couldn't give them ti to recover—we needed to eliminate the corrupt aristocrats today or tomorrow. Essentially, the entire upper ring had danced to Long Feng's tune, so willingly, others forcibly. We needed to determine who belonged in which list.
Before the sun dipped below the horizon, all formalities were complete. Only a public announcent remained—a small spectacle. The throne transfer would occur in the middle ring, with all gates opened so even lower-ring residents could witness the lawful, voluntary transition.
A diverse crowd gathered, expectant yet confused. Many still didn't know how their city's fate had shifted in re hours. Soon, all eyes turned to a small elevation where Lao and King Kuei stood.
"Today, I, the fifty-second Earth King, must admit my inability to lead our nation," Kuei began. "For years, our people have faced Fire Nation attacks." Many middle-ring residents were shocked, learning of the decades-long war for the first ti. "I failed to grasp the reality, leaving all other provinces to fend for themselves."
"The King misspoke," Lao said, stepping forward. "Many now know the true culprit behind the misinformation," he gestured, and Long Feng was brought onstage, ignoring the crowd's accusations, eyes closed. "No need to list his endless cris. Just know he'll answer for everything!" The crowd erupted in applause.
The traditional coronation ceremony followed. The future King swore to protect his people, uphold the law, and so forth. Near the end, he donned the ceremonial robe—the hanfu—and headpiece.
"Long live the new King!" one voice cried, followed by others.
"That outfit suits him well," I thought. Beside him, Kuei paled in comparison. "I should disappear for a week or two, until Lao sorts out the paperwork..."
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