Outnumbered and exhausted as I am, the smart move here would be to keep quiet and rest for as long as possible while formulating a plan of action.

Unfortunately for me, I am not a smart man.

“So,” I begin, if only to break the unnerving silence while studying the faces in the crowd, “Been here long? See any of the sights? I’ve been told a Western oasis is especially beautiful after a summer storm, but I’ve yet to see it for myself. Been kinda busy with the whole… re-taking the province thing.” Which I probably shouldn’t have mentioned, given how this whole offensive is technically illegal since the big kahuna declared the Western Province lost and the borders closed, but in my defense, I forgot that tiny but very significant detail until just now. “Lots of blooming flowers and greenery that doesn’t last long, but I suppose the transience is part of the beauty.”

The Emperor shows no sign of having heard the question as he continues to stare at me in his superior, holier-than-thou, and almost dismissive fashion, the same way I would stare at a weird, non-hostile animal I’ve never seen before. No one else says anything either, as even the Divinities are standing with hands clasped and heads bowed, like contrite students who are late for class and waiting to be punished. The Emperor runs a tight ship though, I’ll give him that, though he looks much younger than expected, a forty-something year old in prime middle-age rather than the lofty senior approaching retirement I envisioned. There’s an ineffable aspect about him that lends him an air of authority, something that has nothing to do with his fancy golden robes or silly hair ornament hat, which even I have to admit looks good on him. The way he holds himself lends weight to his domineering demeanour, one which doesn’t demand respect so much as expect it, and there is not a single Scion who dares to glance in my direction as they stand stock still in five distinct groups.

The tension is so thick you could cut it with a knife, though I suppose the longer this silence drags on, the better it is for me. Or it would’ve been if I didn’t open my stupid mouth, but I couldn’t help it. I hate being the centre of attention, whether it’s the Emperor studying me outright or everyone else studying me out the corner of their eyes.

Wrenching my attention away from the Emperor’s commanding presence, I take a moment to study his entourage instead. According to the family seals emblazoned on their respective outfits, the Five Supreme Families are all present and accounted for, but not in equal numbers. The Yang’s and Liang’s make up the bulk of the entourage, positioned closest to me on the Emperor’s right and left, with five and six people respectively. All men, except one overdressed woman hidden behind the armoured Shen ZhenWu, who is the only person kneeling instead of standing with head bowed. What’s more, she has her head pressed right against the sand, which seems kinda sexist, especially given how she’s fitted for a ball while everyone else is armed and armoured for bear. The Seneschal is nowhere to be seen, which is surprising to me, as I’ve come to associate him with ZhenWu seeing how the two were all but inseparable. I suppose a mere servant doesn’t ‘deserve’ the dubious honour of attending a face-to-face meeting with the Emperor, so lucky me, I guess. Whoo.

The Xing’s make up the next largest group, with three individuals present, soldiers and Warriors one and all who appear to be about the same age as ZhenWu. Each one is clad in golden armour, similar in style to my former boss’s but nowhere near as ostentatious, though still dazzling to behold in the hot desert sun. Armed with spear and shield in hand, they each also bear a sheathed sword upon their hip as they stand directly behind the Emperor, but one step closer than the other four groups and one step further than the Divinities. Makes sense, seeing how the Xing’s are supposedly his military family, but their posture is every bit as submissive as the rest. As for the Tian and Di families, they only have one representative each standing in between the Xing’s and the Yang’s and Liangs to form a big circle, though unlike the other three families who are all rife with tension, these two men in their thirties appear bored and unhappy to be here. The Tian representative is the least well dressed of the bunch, wearing a drab, form-fitting suit of light armour which favours mobility and flexibility over durability and thickness, though I’m guessing it’s probably Runic in nature. Difficult to say, as it’s all black and tailored to melt into his slim figure, with tight, black silk clothes underneath which lack any and all markings whatsoever. Altogether, it makes him look more professional and less ostentatious than anyone else in the crowd, he has haughtiness enough for any three Imperial Scions, which is really saying something given the present company. As for the man from the Di Family, he’s not even wearing armour, though he’s got enough layers of robes on to brave the frozen north. A hefty, heavy-set sort, his comparatively shorter height makes him look fatter than he actually is, though I suspect he can fight as well as any Martial Warrior, even if his poofy layered robes make him look like an eye sore.

Aside from that, all of the Imperial Scions are just too damned handsome, while none seem all too pleased to be here, which I totally understand. I don’t want to be here either. Scorching heat, low humidity, and coarse sand as far as the eye can see isn’t really my idea of paradise, but to each their own, right?

Seeing my attempt at small talk has failed to elicit any response, I wrack my brain for another topic. I would rather risk pissing the Emperor off than sit here in awkward silence another moment longer, as this is akin to my own personal hell. With the Emperor’s thousand-yard stare boring right into the depths of my very soul, I’m liable to start spiralling out of control due to sheer social anxiety. Like maybe the reason no one is engaging me in conversation is because I’m already dead, and I’m just the ghost of me going through the same motions as if I was still alive. At least I have Buddy and Mama Bun here to keep me sane, and my sweet rabbit is just full of affection as I slowly bob her about on the raft, if only to give my subconscious mind something to do besides fret. As for my dog, he’s much more social than I am and would’ve gone over to say hi if I wasn’t holding him in place, because in his eyes, a stranger is just a friend he hasn’t met.

Also, I’m pretty sure he wants to eat Zhen Shi’s corpse, a prospect which has his tail wagging, butt wiggling and mouth drooling as I weigh the pros and cons of feeding my doggo the flesh of my enemies. On the one hand, it’s just going to rot if I leave it there, and hey, free food. On the other hand, gross, and what if all the dead flesh gives him an upset tummy? Or worse, if he chokes on a bone or something? I’d have to prepare the corpse for him, chop and grind it up or something, because knowing Buddy, he’ll eat everything including the robes and give himself a bowel obstruction. Or worse, have it all go right through him until the home stretch, at which point it comes down to me having to pull a bunch of poopy rags out of his clogged-up ass.

That’s an experience which will haunt you for the rest of your life, and presumably the next life too, apparently. Dogs are man’s best friend, there’s no denying that, but it’s not all roses and rainbows, I’ll tell you what.

“Buddy, stay,” I mutter, trying to be as quiet as I can, but my doggo is having none of it as he tries to squirm out of my embrace. “C’mon man, don’t embarrass me in front of the Emperor, okay? I’ll feed you in a bit. Be patient.” Emanating a soothing Aura to keep him calm, I offer the Emperor an awkward smile and say, “Dogs, am I right? You’d think his mouth wasn’t connected with his stomach with how often he begs for food. Ha.”

No response, which I wasn’t expecting one either way, but there’s also no indication of the Emperor’s anger or amusement. He’s interested, but not overly so, as if he’s here to go through the motions and nothing else, a very dull and blasé attitude to take given all the turmoil his Empire has endured in the last two years. Then again, I doubt he even cares about the suffering of his people given how he tried to stop me from killing Zhen Shi, probably because he wanted to study all his secrets. I can’t see a world in which the Emperor wouldn’t be interested in Zhen Shi’s Half-Demon production capabilities, to say nothing of his mass-manufactured Runic Armour and Spiritual Weapons equivalents. In related news, that might well be why I still draw breath, because the Emperor is taking the time to determine if I can be of any use.

Which I suppose I can, given my ability to guide commoners to success in Core Creation and raise veteran Warriors into Demon Slayers at the very least, but I’m not entirely eager to work for the Imperial Clan given our history together. Then again, I doubt I have much of a choice in the matter, but a man can dream, right?

What unnerves me the most is not the silence, or even the Emperor’s piercing stare, but the fact that Pong Pong has gone radio silent and might well have legged it off without me noticing. The little guy stuck with me throughout the entire battle against Zhen Shi and would often reassure me with his Aura, but he hasn’t made a peep since the Emperor stopped my sword, which is something I only now just noticed. Unwilling to give away Pong Pong’s possible presence by physically checking my hair, I make no attempt to directly contact him with my Emotional Aura and radiate it around me instead, giving off a general vibe of calm and control which I most certainly do not feel, nor am I able to sense the little turtle’s presence. Doesn’t mean much when you take into account the fact that he is the sneakiest of ninja turtles, but it’s all I can do to not squirm with panic at the thought of standing here without backup.

Despite my efforts to keep the effect contained to maybe an inch in all directions however, the centremost Xing representative is offended by my actions and demonstrates his discontent by stomping me into the sands and plunging his spear through my neck.

Or at least he would’ve, if not for the Emperor’s command given just before impact. “Hold.”

Staring up at my looming assailant in bewildered shock while struggling to draw breath, I belatedly piece together the sequence of events. One moment he was behind the Emperor, and the next, this Xing Warrior had his boot on my chest and his spear in my face, with no visible transition between the two states. Even now, I’m unable to fathom how any man could move so quickly, especially one that is not yet a Divinity. At least, I don’t think he’s a Divinity, because he doesn’t have the distinctive, overbearing presence palpable to my Spiritual Senses the baldie Divinities share. That only makes his attainments all that more impressive, seeing how this golden armoured behemoth of a Warrior was able to move faster than Zhen Shi and shatter my Domain Plated armour with little more than a nudge. A staggering amount of power for a Peak Expert to exert, but even more remarkable is his control, able to withdraw his strength and control his movements well enough to hold back at a moment’s notice. He struck to kill, and only the Emperor’s command kept him from following through, meaning this isn’t even his top speed but it’s already too fast for me to keep up.

Scowling darkly through his golden, open-faced helmet, the ruggedly handsome Warrior offers me a silent warning while resting his spear against my neck, almost daring me to do something, anything to piss him off. Me being me, I accept the challenge and offer him a toothy smile while patting Buddy on the head to soothe his nerves. “Good dog,” I proclaim, without taking my eyes off the Warrior standing atop me and making it clear in no uncertain terms that I fully understand the duality of my statement.

In hindsight, probably not the smartest course of action, but again, I am not a smart man.

The Xing Warrior’s anger is evident to behold as his cheeks take on a reddish hue, one which I suspect has nothing to do with prolonged exposure to the sun, but just as I’m about to suggest he find some aloe cream for the burn, the Emperor pre-empts my quip with a sigh before turning aside to study Zhen Shi’s corpse lying at his feet. “You may proceed as discussed,” he declares, already giving the body his thousand-yard stare, “But this Sovereign suspects the time and effort will be wasted.”

“This Prince thanks Imperial Sovereign for the opportunity.” ZhenWu’s lofty pronoun is news to me, and he takes pride in its use, but I don’t care much for the implications. After a ninety degree bow at the waist, ZhenWu turns towards me without letting the Emperor out of his sight. A show of respect I suppose, but his wary actions bring to mind my own during those early weeks after welcoming Princess into our floof family. “But Imperial Sovereign was the one who taught this servant that there is no reward without sacrifice.” Moving closer to my side so we don’t have to shout while conversing, ZhenWu offers me a warm smile and an approving nod as I lay still in the sand, but that’s not enough to charm me anymore, even if he is a handsome and heroic Prince of the Empire. Big whoop. The Emperor doesn’t look old enough to be ZhenWu’s father, more like an older brother at best, but considering the guy has a whole forbidden city to house his harem, I doubt ZhenWu is the only Imperial Prince running around.

No, I don’t envy the Emperor for his massive harem. Well, maybe a little, but it’s mostly wistful thinking, an unrealistic fantasy which falls apart the moment I consider the details. Hardly realistic to love and cherish over a thousand women, no matter how exciting it might seem, and I doubt the Emperor cares for his women the way I care for my wives, or vice versa.

Still flat on my back, I peer up at my former boss and remind myself that ZhenWu is not to be trusted. I’ve long since suspected he’s been backing Shuai Jiao in order to hedge his bets and come out a winner no matter which one of us succeeds, but his appearance here alongside the Emperor’s desire to save Zhen Shi leads me to believe that the Imperial Clan might well have been working with the Enemy as well. Sure, ZhenWu almost died to those Half-Step Wraiths, but the timing of his near death was awfully convenient and it all worked out for him in the end, to say nothing of his extended absence even though he should have long since recovered. What’s more, the Emperor doesn’t seem all too concerned about the citizens of the West, the fate of the soldiers of Shi Bei, or the horde of Demonic Divinities threatening to render the city uninhabitable for centuries to come, and I cannot for the life of me figure out why.

I mean, even if he doesn’t care too much about the lives of innocents, this is still his Empire, right? Who in their right mind would be happy to lose one-fifth of their property overnight, if not more?

“Xing Ao Tian,” ZhenWu begins, offering the hulking Xing Warrior a polite nod. “If you would be so kind as to step aside?” Though worded like a request, his tone sounds more like a demand, but Ao Tian doesn’t seem to mind as he removes his spear from my throat and boot from my chest. Not before adding one last mini-stomp to drive the air out of my lungs once more however, and I have to wonder what crawled up his ass and died. I’ve never seen him before in my life, and I don’t think I’ve ever insulted the Xing Clan, so what’s with all the hostility? Of course, all becomes clear as Ao Tian shoots ZhenWu a glare which speaks volumes to their relationship, one that is far from friendly and only a hair short of outright antagonistic.

Great. As if I wasn’t good enough at making enemies on my own, now I’m making enemies by proxy. Cool, cool, cool.

Ignoring the pained creaking of my rib-cage, I sit up and try not to think about how Pong Pong almost definitely left me in the lurch since he did nothing to block either one of the Xing Warrior’s attacks, and instead turn my mind to what comes next. “I’m guessing this is another job offer?” I ask, sighing as I push myself to my feet with dog and glaive in hand, while Mama Bun floats up alongside me with her chin resting on my shoulder. “What are the terms of the Oath?” It's not that I’m willing to swear an Oath, but I don’t see any way around it, and I could always break the Oath by shattering my Core again. “If it’s straight up slavery, then the Emperor is right. Might as well skip ahead to the messy part.”

“Hmph.” The foremost Yang representative, makes his displeasure known with a muted snort. An older fatherly figure with a long, majestic beard, his derision is lessened by the fact that he’s unwilling to lift his head or turn away from the Emperor, who is still holding my sword between two fingers and refuses to let go while staring off into the distance once more, but at least I still have my shield and glaive. “This is the savage you speak so highly of? He knows not his place, to dare refer to his Imperial Sovereign in so flippant a manner. He should be whipped and quartered for this affront, and his family should suffer the same.”

ZhenWu says nothing to defend me, but his dark and troubled expression speaks volumes to his mood. If I had to guess, the Yang representative is entirely correct and I should be whipped and torn apart for my breech of decorum, but in my defense, my lessons in etiquette with Luo-Luo never got as far as covering how to behave during an audience with the Emperor. This means that if ZhenWu defends me, then he’s tacitly defending my disrespect towards the Emperor, which he’s not willing to do, but the person in question has yet to make a peep and seems to be ignoring the exchange entirely.

So I figure I ought to speak up, since I could hardly make things worse. Covering my eyes to block the glare of the sun, I glance around in an exaggerated fashion as if looking for something in the surroundings. “Huh that’s weird,” I begin, still carrying out my search and even going so far as to check the soles of my boots. “I can’t seem to find who asked for your opinion.”

“You insolent whelp,” the Yang representative retorts, lifting his gaze in a moment of anger, but even then, his chin remains tucked to his chest. “You dare –”

“Yes, I dare.” Rolling my eyes with a sigh, my retort lacks any heat or passion whatsoever, because I’m all out of fucks to give. “His Imperial Sovereign already suggested this was a waste of time, so you’re just dragging it out with your petulant interruptions. Now shush.” I don’t understand why I’m not supposed to call the Emperor ‘the Emperor, and use ‘His Imperial Sovereign’ instead, but that doesn’t mean I shouldn’t just roll with it. Look at me, applying all my hard learned lessons regarding the Dao to other aspects of my life. Way to go.

Turning to ZhenWu, I catch the ghost of a boyish grin stretched across his face before he’s all charming and businesslike once again, but I’m not sure if he slipped up by accident or if he meant for me to see him slip up in order to win me over. Politics. Blergh. “Indeed, it is an offer to work together once more,” ZhenWu says, ignoring the fatherly Yang as if he never spoke, “But after much pleading on your behalf to his Imperial Sovereign, some allowances have been made to accommodate your Dao.” Seeing my surprise, ZhenWu turns the charm up to eleven and offers a slight nod in acceptance of thanks I have yet to give. “There was truth in your statement regarding your inability to trade freedom for strength, and wisdom beyond your years contained within your primer. While the freedom you seek does not exist, to fetter you with an Oath of Servitude would be the same as ruining your value, so his Imperial Sovereign has suggested a different approach. An Oath will still be required, but one of intellectual honesty and cooperation, as well as discretion in matters touching upon any Imperial secrets.”

Implying he will share said secrets to me, but I think this is more to cover up the secrets I’ve stumbled across. “You want to know more about my Path?”

“Indeed,” he answers, hopefully taking the bait and believing that I haven’t seen through him. “And you will discuss it with the greatest minds of the Royal College, where the finest military Officers of the Empire are trained to become Royal Guardians in service to the Emperor. Is that not what you desire? A forum for discourse and discussion of the Dao? There will be Divinities and Warriors aplenty to offer perspective and guidance, and I will personally spare no effort raising you to Divinity, though I suspect you do not need much help at all.” True, but I’d rather remain as I am than achieve False Divinity, though I know enough not to say as much just yet. I mean, if I know it’s the wrong step to take, why bother taking it? Just for the experience? I dunno, that’s like saying everyone should experience food poisoning at least once, so you know what it’s like, which is just silly.

“And this is merely the beginning of our long and fruitful cooperation,” ZhenWu continues, turning ever so slightly to wave someone over, “Xiao Rou?”

Coming to her feet without lifting her head, the sole female of the group scurries over to ZhenWu’s side, and only then does she straighten up to show her gorgeous face. Familiar too, but it takes me a moment to place her before realizing where we met before. “You’re Miss Rou,” I blurt out, and before thinking better of it, add, “You tried to kill me in that whorehouse.”

The silence is deafening as the blood drains from my face and I try to shrink my head down into my chest cavity, but try as I might, I am no turtle and unable to escape from Miss Rou’s heated glare. ZhenWu’s expression isn’t much better, and a quick glance is all it takes to see that everyone else is highly amused, save for the Emperor who is still lost in his own little world while staring at the separated head and body lying at his feet. Try as I might, I can’t read the Emperor, as he is neither distraught nor pleased by Zhen Shi’s death and seems focused on something I cannot see.

Gently patting Miss Rou’s shoulder to placate her rage, ZhenWu clears his throat and says, “A minor misunderstanding, your little clash in Sui Hua. Xiao Rou here was merely overly eager to meet the heroic young Legate of the Outer Provinces and experience your strength for herself.” More like drive a sword through my heart, and judging by the murderous hatred emanating from her otherwise lovely eyes, that has yet to change. “A quarrelling couple holds no grudges,” he continues, which is an idiom that hardly applies to our current situation, or at least that’s what I thought until he adds, “Xiao Rou, greet your future husband.”

“Noooo.” Stopping this shit before it gets out of hand, I shake my head and move aside before Miss Rou can greet me, though considering how she didn’t move a muscle except to ball her fists, it appears she had no such intentions. “Nuh-uh. I appreciate the gesture, but I have enough wives as is.” Four is three too many for most, and I need to leave the fifth spot open for Li-Li. “Not to say Miss Rou isn’t lovely and all, but uh… I uh… am a poor match for a woman so…” Deadly. Dangerous. Troublesome. “Lovely.” Fuck, I already said that. “Besides, like you said, a minor quarrel is hardly anything to be concerned about. No harm, no foul, so there’s no need to go to such extremes and ruin her life by marrying her off to a lecher like me.”

Though you wouldn’t know it by looking at them, the peanut gallery is overflowing with amusement as they watch this all unfold, but I can’t be bothered to care. It doesn’t matter how gorgeous or busty Miss Rou might be, I have no interest in marrying her. Not because of her fake job history, or the fact that Fung was smitten by her for a time, or because I keep mispronouncing her name as ‘Miss Meat’ instead of ‘Miss Jade’ every other time I say it. If I’m being honest, other than the fact that she tried to lure me into an ambush and kill me, I have no real strong feelings regarding Miss Rou either way, but much as I would love to have a harem of a thousand women, I wouldn’t be able to handle it on an emotional level. Hell, I’m fairly certain I can’t handle one wife without screwing up, much less five, so I’m afraid I already have my hands full, meaning the doors are closed to all new applicants, no matter how alluring they might be.

Besides, and I’ve said it before, but in terms of beauty, grace, temperament, and endowment, Miss Rou falls short of lovely Luo-Luo, so why order burgers for delivery when we have steak at home? Grossly sexist and chauvinistic, I know, but that do be how it be.

“Do not be so quick to refuse.” Though still all smiles and sunshine on the surface, there’s an edge to ZhenWu’s tone that warns me to stop playing the fool. Jokes on him, I’m not playing a role, this is who I really am, but that’s not something I should really be proud of. “This marriage will only serve to benefit us both, tying you even closer to the Imperial Clan. His Imperial Sovereign has already decreed that this Prince will succeed him once he has finished serving his term, at which point you will be consort to an Imperial Princess, above all but a handful of noble Imperial Scions.”

“Hold up. You’re her father?” Hardly the most important thing to focus on right now, but they look more like siblings than father and daughter.

“Yes.” No one is immune to flattery, not even the Crown Prince, and ZhenWu puffs with pride at the implication that I never would have guessed his true age, but honestly, that makes me want to marry Miss Rou even less. While I haven’t met many Imperial Scions, Shen ZhenWu embodies everything I loathe about the Imperial Clan, so stately, noble, and friendly on the surface, but a double-dealing snake underneath. “You may keep your other wives, but Xiao Rou must be your main wife, the head of your household above all others. As a wedding gift, I will bestow upon you a manor in the Imperial capital, where you and your parents, sibling, and in-laws may make your home, to come and go as you please, though you will have to forfeit your titles as Minister of Finance and Legate of the Outer Provinces.”

ZhenWu continues to regale me with the details of my lofty rise to power, but suffice it to say, none of it is tempting in the least. I would much rather live in my sister’s manor back at the village, or better yet, build my own manor for me and my wives, but that hardly seems polite to say. Unfortunately for me, I am terrible at hiding my emotions and ZhenWu quickly realizes he’s barking up the wrong tree, so he switches from the carrot to the stick. “Still not greeting me as Father-in-Law?” His features darken in spite of his ‘joking’ smile as he looms over me in unspoken threat. “Though this is not a decision to be made lightly, you said it yourself; there are still other matters to attend to.”

Meaning the battle in Shi Bei which I am eager to get back to, though I’m not entirely sure how much of a difference I can make. Rather than say something and risk shoving my foot in my mouth, I glance around at the Emperor’s paltry retinue of less than twenty individuals, without a single Royal Guardian or Death Corps Guard in sight. Catching on all-too quickly, ZhenWu produces a mirror from his belt-pouch and gestures for me to come stand by his side, which I do while being careful not to turn away from the Emperor. As dumb as it feels to move sideways across the sand, I err on the side of caution because I don’t want to give Xing Ao Tian any more reason to hate me. Honestly though, much as I respect Xing Yong Wei for his advice, I can’t help but resent him for abandoning me so soon into my term as Legate, and the bald Liang Divinity is high on my shit list for trying to have Dad killed. The Yang Divinity might well have been the most respectable of the bunch, though it could just be because of our limited interaction. I didn’t know he was a Yang at the time, but the fact that he spoke in my favour and told ZhenWu that I was telling the truth regarding my Dao tells me he was a man of principle, because he could’ve kept silent and let ZhenWu resent me. That would’ve driven a wedge between me and the Legate, which would’ve suited ZhenWu’s Imperial Protector fine, seeing how the old baldy was a member of the Yang Family who is at odds with the Liangs.

And how did ZhenWu repay the man? By setting him up to be killed, no doubt, further strengthening my suspicions that my ‘benevolent’ patron has been working with Zhen Shi all this time, or at the minimum using a dire threat to the outer provinces as a tool in his games of politics.

Placing his arm around my shoulder in a much-too-friendly gesture, ZhenWu holds the mirror up to my face and shows me my reflection. Not sure what I was expecting, but at least Mama Bun and Buddy are cute as can be, though I see no sign of Pong Pong hidden within my hair. I still can’t confirm if he’s actually gone or just hiding from everything, but if he did leave, then I can hardly blame him for it. I never would’ve made it this far without him, and he stuck around much longer than he had to, so if he is gone, then I wish him well and pray he finds safety and happiness in spades. That being said, Pong Pong was outright dismissive of the Demonic Divinity and Zhen Shi both, as if he wasn’t afraid of either one in the slightest, so I feel like I should be more worried about the fact that he ran as soon as the Emperor made his presence known.

Not like it matters. Even if he doesn’t lift a finger, I doubt I could beat Ao Tian who stomped me flat, much less the other two beside him, or my prospective Father-in-Law, the Divine True Warrior, to say nothing of the two Divinities looming about. I am in way over my head, so I suppose selling my ass in marriage to Miss Rou isn’t the worst thing in the world. Not literally selling my ass, though it wouldn’t surprise me to learn she leans that way. Beautiful though she might be, I’ve seen nothing tender or gentle about the formidable woman, a temperamental firebrand if there ever were one. I’m not ashamed to admit she scares me, in a, “I’m going to cut your dick off and feed it to the fishes,” sort of way.

It's her eyes, beautiful yes, but burning with wilful threat and malevolent rage. She blames me for her circumstances, hates me for being used in so humiliating a manner, and promises no peace or comfort will be found within the walls of our home. In other words, even though she’s a perfect ten in beauty, she’s cranked crazy up to eleven and no longer falls within the safe zone of the crazy/hot scale, and you know what they say about crazy.

Before I can ask what all this is about, my image in the mirror begins to blur only to focus and reveal a different scene reflected within, one of death and chaos aplenty. Covered in blood and heaving with exertion, Akanai wields her Crescent Moon Halberd in a defensive pattern to fend off her formidable foes, three monstrous and unfamiliar Demonic Divinities assaulting her from all sides. Each and every one of their attacks threatens to bring the Wrath of Heaven down upon them, but they care not for the Treaty or the consequences of their actions, only for the blood and flesh of my Grand-Mentor they so desperately crave. Though this is merely a glimpse of her plight, I can already tell that Akanai is in dire straits and will not hold out for long without assistance, but I suspect there will be none forthcoming.

For there are even more Demonic Divinities besieging Grandpa Wolf, who is desperately fighting to keep everyone alive. The Demonic Divinities themselves are only a minor threat, one he could tear through with relative ease so long as he’s willing to suffer a few injuries for it, but keeping the Wrath of Heavens from destroying all of Shi Bei has stretched the poor old Divinity to the limits. The Demonic Divinities sense his weakness and converge around him like vultures awaiting the death of their prey, and the combined efforts of the remaining Imperial Divinities led by the newly ascended Nian Zu aren’t enough to keep them all at bay, for they are grossly outnumbered by these near mindless abominations unleashed by Zhen Shi in his rage.

The image in the mirror shifts, flickering faster than the human eye can follow, but my mind pieces it all together with help from the State of Enlightenment. Mila stands before Lin-Lin and defends her from the Half-Demon Defiled, but my fiery wife is almost an arrow spent, her body fatigued and her Spiritual System overworked after unleashing not one burst of dazzling radiance, but two with help from me and Lin-Lin both. Li-Li stands close by with sabre a whirling, but while she has touched upon the precipice of Peak Expert, she has yet to move over the threshold to become one in truth. Even if she had, she alone is not enough to turn the tides of battle, as evidenced by Husolt, Grandpa Du, Kyung, and so many others who are desperately fighting to make their way over to save them. Yan is still safe for now, but no longer able to sustain her massive wind wall of blades, and instead fights with fan, shield, and horns in bloody close combat with the odd Wind Blade to make up for the disparity in strength, speed, reaction, and so much more. All the while, Luo-Luo continues to play her heart out while Guard Leader’s veiled subordinates defend her and the floofs both, but it’s clear they’re all on their last legs as the Enemy closes in from all sides.

Dad, Naaran, and Gerel trade blows with Ankhbayar and Mao Jianghong within a rare pocket of calm, but my grandfather is wounded and unable to fight with his full strength. A wound taken to protect Gerel I would wager, considering how close my brother has come to losing it entirely. Even then, they still outnumber their foes, but the traitor Guard Captain’s Blessing of Ice does much to make up for the difference. A shield of ice moves in accordance with Jianghong’s left hand, affixed to him by bonds of invisible Domain, and he sweeps it before him to slam Dad and Gerel away before raising it high to stop the plummeting Bloody Fang from piercing through the crown of Ankhbayar’s head. As for my failure of a sire, he is a disappointment as a man, but a Warrior few can match, especially with Jianghong to make up for his shortcomings. Giving himself over to the attack, he wields his spear with speed and precision unlike anything I’ve ever seen, delivering pinpoint attacks at every opening presented by his foes and bleeding them more often than not. At this rate, it won’t be long before someone slips up and suffers what might well be a mortal wound, but there are no other available Warriors capable of interfering in an exchange of this calibre.

Down in the courtyard, Kharuul and Balor yearn to join their riders for this fight, but powerful as the two Spiritual Quins might be, they are vulnerable in a battle between Peak Experts, to say nothing of an exchange at this high a calibre, and the beasts know it. All they can do is gnash their teeth and stomp their feet, a frustration I share with them, as well as with sweet Mafu and furious Zabu who have been left out of the fight. Not all the quins sit idle however, as many Sentinels sallied out alongside the Imperial cavalry in pursuit of the fleeing Defiled army, except now they’re frantically fighting to make their way back to Shi Bei. Despite being given a clean opportunity to charge the Half-Demons in the back, it was far from enough to break the fearsome Enemy combatants. To make matters worse, the Imperial Cavalry have been unable to withdraw after the initial charge and are stuck fighting in close combat, a poor trade even if they were battling base Chosen instead of Half-Demon Peak Experts. The casualties are staggering to behold, largely due to the fact that the Enemy has a force of cavalry all their own, a small but elite force of mounted Half-Demons commanded by a hulking beast of a Chieftain running rampant through the Imperial forces. This does nothing to deter Huu however, who recognizes the Chieftain underneath his Demonic Armour as the Defiled who killed his uncle Kalil. Though sorely outmatched by his foe, my foolhardy friend brings his quin around on a collision course with the Half-Demon Chieftain in an effort to kill the man or die trying, but in his rage, Huu doesn’t notice his wives and mother following close behind. None of them are strong enough to defeat the Half-Demon Chieftain, and all three of the women know it, but they will not let Huushal die on his own and are ready to sell their lives dearly.

Back on the battlements, Mister Rustram fights with rapier in one hand and my banner in the other, having pried it from Yazhu’s lifeless hands. A cobbler’s son turned Stormguard Banner Bearer, Yazhu was the first man to sound the rallying cry in JiangHu, among the first to answer Akanai’s call to serve, and now he lies dead upon the walls of Shi Bei alongside so many others. Fung and Seoyoon fight shoulder to shoulder, while Da’in struggles to make her way over and link up, but there are too many Half-Demons to allow it. The Sword Princess gives it her all in a desperate bid to save her sister, for she has already seen her brother Geom-Chi fall to a Half-Demon, and refuses to lose Seoyoon too. Similarly, Exarch Gam has made his way over to Wu Gam’s side, bleeding profusely from more wounds than I can count but still a force to be reckoned with on the battlefield. The sands shift and collapse inwards, burying an entire group of armoured Half-Demons who have yet to make their way onto the wall, but there are still more to replace them as they charge headlong at the formidable, but exhausted Half-Fox Warrior. His mother stands guard over them, but she too is caught up in the siege of Demonic Divinities and unable to spare much attention for them. She’s making ready to cut and run, like so many other Imperial Divinities, and only the encirclement of Enemy Divinities is keeping her in place. Zhu Chanzui, Mataram YuKon, and seven other Human Divinities and Ancestral Beasts stand ready and waiting, the remnants of the non-Demon Divinities freed up once Zhen Shi unleashed his mindless miscreations. They’re just waiting for their foes to weaken, to break apart and present an opening, at which point they will strike to kill and possibly even bring Heaven’s Wrath down upon all of Shi Bei, because the Treaty isn’t worth shit any longer.

Tam Taewoon. Situ Jia Yang and Situ Jia Zian. Chen Hongji. Han BoHai and Han BoShui. Broken Blade Pichai. Marshal Quyen Huong and Dienne Huong. Situ Rang Min. These faces and more flash before my eyes, but it’s the faces I don’t see that pain me so, the ones not reflected within Shen ZhenWu’s mirror because they’re already dead. Somehow, I can just tell that this is no illusion, not something Zhen Shi would craft to trick me, but a true representation of reality, one which I suspect is happening in real time, and my ‘patron’ confirms it with his next words. “The situation in Shi Bei is dire indeed, and growing more desperate by the second, but agree to my terms, and I will save those you hold dear. Your family of course, and your wives, and even your pets, so you need not fear for their fate.”

But everyone else is shit out of luck. Though I suspected as much, the confirmation sends a pang through my chest which empties it of all sensation, leaving only pain and nothingness behind. Have to die. As in he could save them all, but he won’t, because then he can’t control the narrative of what happened here in the West. “What about my mother?”

I already suspected they have her in custody, because nothing else would’ve kept her from riding to reinforce Dad, but ZhenWu confirms as much with a grunt before showing me her worried expression in the mirror. “We intercepted her forces seven days ago and sent them back to the Northern Citadel. Your mother holds no rank you see, and thus no right to command a force of soldiers so large. She was treated well,” he adds, no doubt sensing my growing anger and understandably worried I’ll do something rash, “Unharmed and in good health.” The implication being that this might not hold true should I refuse his offer, and I don’t have it in me to ask about Charok and the twins. Rather than outright threaten me however, ZhenWu shows me my mother’s surroundings, and I spot Shuai Jiao standing close by her. His rugged, weather-worn features are unreadably neutral, though somehow I can sense his inner turmoil just as clearly as mom’s fear and heartbreak. They’re both Scrying on Shi Bei, meaning they’re not far away at all, and I catch a glimpse of Royal Guardians and Death Corps Guards around them. No Imperial soldiers though, none save for Yong-Jin, who lacks his Mentor’s calm façade and wears his inner conflict openly on his sleeve, for he is a good man and cannot bear the thought of sacrificing so many lives, even if it is for the supposed greater good.

But the Emperor, Shen ZhenWu, and everyone else present wouldn’t blink twice about it, and have long since decided the fate of the heroes of Shi Bei.

“You have an army standing outside the city,” I begin, my knuckles turning white as I hold Unity tight and resist the urge to cut my smiling patron down, “And you intend to let the soldiers of Shi Bei all die?”

“It’s your army, in truth,” ZhenWu replies, and the pieces fall into place even as he explains it. “The Royal Guardians and Death Corps Guards you brought along with you on this ill-fated crusade. Even if I should lead them into battle, this paltry force is hardly enough to turn the tides of battle, especially with so many uncontrolled Demonic Divinities involved. You would have led them to their deaths, and I saved their lives, while those who die in Shi Bei will die because of your decisions.”

“I could have won with their help.”

“Perhaps, but unlikely, and even then only due to a series of unlikely events which not even you could have foreseen.” Shrugging as if none of this concerns him, he continues, “Their deaths, though unfortunate, is the price you pay for your hubris, a lesson you should learn from moving forward from here. His Imperial Sovereign decreed the Western Province lost and its borders closed, yet you took it upon yourself to ignore His Imperial Mandate and lead these soldiers to their deaths. You only have yourself to blame. His Imperial Sovereign has shown mercy enough in not having you killed for disobedience, will even overlook the ruinous outcome of your crusade and allow you to marry into the Imperial Clan, truly a fortune found in disaster. Accept, and you will soar high into the Heavens to become a dragon among men; refuse, and you will be prosecuted for your crimes, with your name cursed as the sinner of the outer provinces for centuries to come and your supporters executed as accessories after the fact.”

It's not much of a choice. I would be stupid to refuse. It’s not like he’s even asking that much of me. Marriage to an Imperial Princess and sharing my view on the Dao, though I suspect more demands will come in time. I might as well just bite the bullet and accept the offer, because it’s not like I have a viable alternative, but throughout ZhenWu’s entire sales pitch, there was one question just eating away at me from inside, something I cannot for the life of me figure out, and the words slip out in spite of all my efforts to keep quiet.

“But why?”

Chapter Meme 1

Chapter Meme 2

Chapter Meme 3