The protocol for one high-ranking dignitary coming to present himself to the Emperor had not changed much across the ages. The Emperor himself was getting slightly older, but his health was sustained by many Heroes who regularly made sure that no mortal ill could befall him. So when he was sitting on the throne chair of the Hall of Celestial and Terrestrial Union, the Jiaqing looked more like a middle-aged man than the sixtyish one he was in truth and was looking on the central part of the palace with an affable look.

Jacques Deschanel, even if he was slightly impatient with the complex protocol that had kept him for days outside of the Forbidden City walls, then days more inside, kept his face perfectly controlled. He much preferred the austere simplicity of the meetings with the Tyrant, but you could not expect an ancient empire that stretched to an era before the Romans to do things simply.

He wore a simple matching set of mid-tier four leathers, to avoid any ostentatious display. Showing up wearing half a dozen Artefacts might be seen as an insult or a respectable display of strength. Who knew, when it came to the Manchus.

Any local eunuch would have been able to tell the foreigner that his modest appearance was perceived as contrived, at least by the Greatest of Heroes sitting next to the Emperor. She, like the rest of her retinue, was perfectly aware of the power a tier seven like Deschanel would have amassed. But for now, she, along with the full team discreetly spread among the courtiers, was merely content to look without comment.

Besides, at least it showed some modesty. Many westerners and easterners had been not so restrained.

The translator Napoleon had sent along finished his long praise of the generosity of the Emperor and his might and other exalted attributes. To be sure, Deschanel and de Guignes had spent a day rehearsing, as the old Sinologue made sure that the French words and the translated version matched, in the – probable – case one of the courtiers were able to compare both and subtly undermine the effort.

“It is good to see that the kingdom of France pays his respects to the Celestial Empire,” the Emperor finally said. “Every time, we have seen many wonders, like the ones built for my father by your compatriot,” he added.

“We always have new ones for your edification,” the Frenchman said.

Deschanel gestured and one of his companions opened up a box and brought out a small cushioned plate on which sat a strangle contraption of bronze and crystals. Zhuangjing’s curiosity immediately rose. The device was obviously powered by Labyrinth Stones, but she could not fathom its purpose. A handle… clasps to place on something…

“And what is this gift you are bringing me from afar,” the Jiaqing asked.

“A Gate Closer.”

Weapons sprouted everywhere, Deschanel noted. A staff made of multiple floating parts covered with a purple glow. A pair of three-feet long curved swords covered in red and blue glowlight. He noticed a book whose pages riffled without wind, as a weird halo shifted colours above the opened pages. And all of those people were coming out of the mass of courtiers, their entire clothing suddenly changed into high-tier gear.

The Princess had almost gone out of her own chair, her mundane clothes fallen on the ground and replaced by her incandescent white robe when the Emperor’s hand rose and halted everyone.

“That is a clever device you have here. One,” he continued, looking meaningfully at his daughter, “that I’ve heard has failed.”

“It did not fail, Great Emperor. It performed exactly as it was supposed to do.”

“Yet the British’s Gate still stands.”

“Only because the British found out how to re-open it, your Highness,” he replied.

“Ah, the British.”

“They are your enemies, as they are ours.”

“They are nuisances, not enemies. Their armies are weak, their Heroes cower on their island, and every year, they lose more ground. They are more your Tyrant’s enemies than ours,” the Emperor corrected.

He then made a small gesture, and a bevvy of eunuchs came to pick the Gatecloser device and take it out of the audience room.

“I wonder who among your scholars made such a thing. He must be very talented.”

“Mr Dumoulin is very knowledgeable when it comes to the Labyrinth. But I have to confess that his insights were guided by hints from our southern neighbours.”

“They are quite clever with the Power Stones, I have heard.”

“They are. And some of them are a bit happier than others… to share with us the fruits of their works.”

“Ah. Disunity and disharmony is the bane of many tributaries. You do not have that problem among yourselves, I assume.”

“All can see the improvements brought upon them by the enlightened policies of Napoleon.”

“So you are expecting more of the southerners to discuss matters of the Celestial Planes with yours.”

“That, we do.”

“Good for you then. You may talk with us further on this at a later time,” the Emperor said, then rose.

Without waiting, he turned and exited the audience chamber. Zhuangjing threw a last look at the waiting Frenchman before exiting as well, while the rest of her team gathered near to the commoner’s exit to keep watch on the foreign Greater Hero.

“You reacted hastily, daughter,” the Jiaqing chided the Princess of the Second Rank as they made their way across the gardens behind the Hall, heading slowly toward the Old Summer Palace.

“That thing is dangerous, father,” she replied curtly, still dissatisfied with the events.

“We were nowhere near the Great Gate, our spies tell us they needed three to close the British Gate. Tell me then, what do you think he was attempting by bringing out this stolen device?”

“A subtle threat?”

“You spend too much time fighting the simple threats of the far Planes. It was subtle, of course, but not a threat to us. An admission of failure.”

Zhuangjing threw a surprised glance at her father.

“The British countered that device. And, I assume, the king of the Zulus knows how to do that as well, or he’d have no doubt executed whoever among his subjects invented the original one.”

“But we do not know how to do that.”

“And if they did use it, well, we might offer a truce to the British and help them defeat their great enemy. Or reach out to the original designers. I doubt they are terribly happy someone stole an even greater invention of them.”

“Then why bring it out?”

“As you said, a subtle hint. Not their danger, but of the British.”

Zhuangjing stayed silent, letting her father explain further.

“The British were content to play with the scraps of the Planes. The materials brought back were their fascination. Devices, made by clever hands. But now… they have used Heroes that twist the Planes themselves. They have changed their approach and use the strengths of their best people.”

The Emperor turned back and kept walking, his daughter along with him.

“They are looking for an alliance with those who do use the Planes’ blessings, rather than its dust. They cannot count on their spies among the dark ghosts, so they are asking us for advice.”