In one fell swoop the battle was won. The entire army had been drawn upon the field and spilled with gold, drenching the land with a beauty born out of destruction.

The Grandmaster, returning his breath to a calm flow, looked to the sky and watched his dragon companion dancing in victory above the protected temple. "The art of fighting without fighting," he said proudly to himself while sheathing his weapons, "and that's enough drawing for one day."

But before he could put down his pencils, another bright spark flashed into his mind. The Grandmaster turned to his dragon ablaze with curiosity, and said, "We shall roar like the figure of eight, old friend."