The morning fog had barely lifted when the alarm bells of Kota Serunai (Serunai City) rang out. Traders scrambled, merchants ran along stilts, and cargo carts clattered against wooden planks. The sea still hissed from the previous night's disturbance, sending faint spirals of foam curling around pilings.
Hai Cheng ran along the docks, Suanpan (abacus) beads clicking with every step. He could feel the Arus Dagang (Trade Current) pulsing unevenly beneath him.
"They've breached another vein!" a young dockhand shouted, pointing toward the center of the harbor.
Hai Cheng's eyes narrowed. Pipes and braced Peranakan Jubin Warisan (Heritage Tiles) along the docks shivered as if anticipating an unseen blow.
From the mist, Yue Lan appeared, her Batik Lingkar (Batik Array) glowing turquoise in her hand. "It's worse than last night. The Grand Lingqi Furnace wasn't destroyed—it just scattered its pulses. There are multiple small forges now, hidden beneath the stilts!"
Hai Cheng's jaw tightened. Multiple furnaces meant multiple disruptions. The Harimau Ombak (Tide Tiger) had already returned to patrol, agitated by the uneven currents.
Then a shadow swept across the dock. A sharp whistle pierced the morning air.
Hai Cheng spun—too late.
A squad of armored enforcers clanged onto the stilts, brass gears turning and smoke spilling from their mechanical backpacks. Furnace Enforcers, the Admiral's foot soldiers, were deployed not just to recover stolen materials but to stabilize the currents forcibly.
"Spread out!" their leader shouted in Hokkien. "No civilians! Keep the currents under control!"
Hai Cheng ignored protocol. "We can't let them override the Arus Alam (Natural Current)!" he yelled, leaping onto a narrow beam. The stilts groaned under his weight.
Yue Lan flanked him, spinning a Lingqi array above her head. The array glowed brighter than ever, projecting a net of turquoise currents across the planks. Batik patterns shimmered like water in motion, aligning with fractured veins beneath the city.
The Harimau Ombak hissed, lunging through the net. Each claw met invisible energy barriers. For a moment, the spectral tiger was contained—but not for long.
From the shadows, a low mechanical hum grew louder. Hai Cheng's gaze went toward the horizon. On the edge of the harbor, rising above stilts and mangroves, was a new Grand Furnace. Its pipes spewed Lingqi currents directly into the channels below.
"The Admiral," Yue Lan whispered. "He's here in person."
Hai Cheng clenched the Suanpan (abacus). Each jade bead vibrated violently. He could feel the currents trying to align themselves with the furnace—but they resisted.
The Admiral stepped onto the main dock with uncanny calm. His brass insignia gleamed in the mist. "Good morning, Hai Cheng," he said, voice low but cutting through the chaos. "I see you've made friends with the tiger."
Hai Cheng's fingers hovered over his Suanpan. "This city doesn't belong to your furnaces. It belongs to the currents."
"And yet," the Admiral replied, "the currents have become fragmented. I only offer stability." He gestured, and one of the smaller furnaces emitted a pulse of Arus Dagang (Trade Current). Immediately, sections of the docks trembled violently, beams buckling.
Yue Lan spun her Lingqi array in a tight spiral. The currents resisted the pulse, clashing with the artificial energy. Sparks of turquoise collided with white-hot trade energy, illuminating the mist like fireworks.
Hai Cheng saw the Harimau Ombak shift nervously. The tiger's stripes fractured again, but instead of attacking, it circled the furnace—judging, waiting.
"Listen to it," Yue Lan shouted over the roar. "The tiger senses the imbalance!"
Hai Cheng inhaled deeply, letting his consciousness extend into the Arus Dagang (Trade Current), the Arus Alam (Natural Current), and the faint whisper of Arus Warisan (Heritage Current). He felt them pulse like threads of silk—one tugging, one fraying, one holding.
Then the air exploded with sound. The Furnace Enforcers advanced, stepping onto weakened stilts. One misstep, and the planks could collapse entirely. Hai Cheng knew it would trigger a cascading disaster.
Without hesitation, he thrust the Suanpan outward. Beads spun, connecting the fractured currents into a complex lattice. Batik patterns of turquoise and jade illuminated the docks, weaving around the stilts and the tiger.
The Harimau Ombak roared, its body stretching like a living wave. But the array held it—momentarily.
The Admiral smiled thinly. "Impressive. But raw power cannot replace precision." He raised his hand, and the Grand Furnace pulsed again. White-hot Lingqi surged into the lattice, threatening to tear it apart.
Hai Cheng braced, feeling the threads of Arus Warisan pulse beneath him. Drawing on the faint heritage current, he let the combined streams flow—trade, natural, and heritage—through his array. Light expanded, a perfect harmony of currents, and the furnace's pulse bounced back into the sea, harmlessly dispersing.
The stilts groaned, the Harimau Ombak stabilized, and the Furnace Enforcers stumbled back, shocked.
The Admiral's smile faded. "Interesting…you are learning faster than I anticipated." He looked out over the city, then disappeared into the mist with a flick of his coat, leaving behind only the low hum of the furnaces still submerged below the harbor.
Hai Cheng exhaled, sweat dripping onto the wooden planks. Yue Lan lowered her glowing array. The tiger dipped its head in acknowledgment before dissolving into sea mist once more.
"The city…is safe," Yue Lan whispered. "For now."
Hai Cheng's gaze went to the harbor floor, where multiple small furnaces still pulsed faintly. "For now," he repeated. "But the currents are calling. And they won't wait for us."
Above the stilts, the lanterns swayed gently. Somewhere, deep below the strait, the sea hummed—a low, persistent vibration. The balance had been restored…temporarily.
But in the depths, the Lingqi Sea had already begun plotting its next move.