The Inner Council of the Emperor was mostly a family affair, unlike the much more extended Grand Imperial Council. It included only people Jiaqing, the Mandate of Heaven himself, personally trusted. Like his oldest son, Prince of First Rank Zhi, the slightly younger and less experienced brother Miankai. And, of course, the Princess of Second Rank Zhuangjing herself, the Teaching Spellbender and Greatest of Heroes of the Celestial Planes.

Who personally had a difficult time accepting that such a monster as their unannounced black visitor could even exist and make a mockery of her accomplishments. He had not shared his descriptor properly, but her team’s defender, Zhan Bao, knew the truth from what his high skills told him about the Zulu barbarian.

Eight thousand levels. Two million and some in vitals. Nearly ten thousand of Presence and every single Potential above the thousands. Something no immortal Hero should have been able to achieve even in a lifetime, yet the barbarian ruler did. It was one thing to deride Zulu superstitions, it was another to face the truth behind those.

“We have prosecuted our war against the British and secured their old possessions. And burned all of the vile opium fields they shamelessly used against us. Why should we go to war across the world for a black ghost?” Mianning, the Prince Zhi, asked.

Zhuangjing knew the question was addressed to her, rather than her father.

“I would be saying because of who he is, but that would be inaccurate,” she replied.

“Really?”

“Really. He has titles no one can have, he has more levels than there are days since the Great Gate opened to the heavenly trials… but we know from his dissidents that he is not just what he seems.”

“By the way, does he know we now have the devices he says he wants to attack the French for making?” the youngest asked.

The Emperor laughed before Zhuangjing could answer that one.

“Of course not, or he wouldn’t have come to us. But Mianning is right. All of you, tell me why we should go to war, and also why we shouldn’t. The Grand Council’s Ministers are going to want to hear why we do anything, even if it comes from the Emperor.”

The prompt led the various members of the council to start arguing, various justifications going back and forth.

“Zhan Bao has carefully examined what he can of the power the foreign king has, and which has no title nor level. Jiàozhŭn, the adjustment to… something; the Heavens themselves maybe. And the last cause of this war isn’t what the French did, even if it may have begun the chain of events. It’s what the English have. If… my contacts among those Zulus are to be trusted, this Victorious Traveller of them has begun his war because the British have also stolen the same power from the Heavens. And broke the gates of the Labyrinth doing so.”

“They’re the ones to blame for the rash of closed Gates?” Miankai asked, curious.

“It seems so. King Mhambi Meshindi told his people it would propagate from wherever they did it… and the trunk access we have that lands not far from their own starting zone blew back to our zones,” Zhuangjing replied.

“And this is a power we have not,” Jiaqing said, frowning.

“Our judicious use of the Heroes in the Green Army has let us win vast swathes of land, more than any Emperor of China ever did before. It has offset the weapon superiority the Europeans enjoyed until the Great Gate opened, which they still do not know how to use properly, obsessed with wealth as they are. But the Zulu king is well beyond anything we dreamed, and that is – almost certainly – due to that power. I’m not sure I trust their word on him being already powerful when the Gates opened, but if someone can get that high in twenty years somehow, we can’t afford to ignore it.”

“It is one thing to push the British out of their foreign possessions. They will, inevitably, accept that. Even their former colonies managed to do it across the Tàipíngyáng, and they forgave them somewhat after seething for a few decades. But they have wrought a ceaseless war against the French for two decades now because the French threaten them on their own soil. If we also do…”

“The Zulus need our strength because they may have many powerful Greater Heroes, but we have far more common Heroes. Their people are few, compared to the populous provinces of the Middle Kingdom. They need us to keep both of the countries they want to invade pacified. Since they know we’ve been already at war with the British, they would owe us this…” Miankai noted.

“Is that why they want us against England? I would have thought he’d want to hunt those British powers himself?” Mianning asked.

“Would we attack the French, who have always treated us with respect and traded well – if not as much as the English – just because he asked? Even he must respect the Middle Kingdom’s wishes,” Zhuangjing countered.

Zhuangjing found Obsessive Gymnast Chang Ru, her former maid, waiting for her just outside of the Inner Council room.

“It’s been decided. Father will make the formal announcement to the Grand Council tomorrow. It's time to show the British what the Mandate of Heaven on Earth truly means. Tell Zhan Bao to notify the black rebels we’re going to need everything they know about those powerful ones for when we land in England.”

Jonas didn’t have to think about paying a visit to the court. When the team reached the High Labyrinth Office headquarters, he found a note from the St. James Palace asking for his presence on Sunday afternoon for an “informal audience”. Someone must have notified the Crown as soon as they had come back from their short delve into the Labyrinth.

“Probably means non-official thanks,” Ira commented as Jonas informed his three companions of the fact.

“Just you, though,” Alton noted.

“I’m the face of the team. And, well, I’m sure it’s about Gustav Adolf’s being freed,” Jonas replied.

“Lucky you,” Ira smirked.

Jonas chafed slightly in his mundane clothes. He wore the ones given to him for that knighting ceremony a year ago, but the three Adjustment Milestones he’d obtained since meant they no longer really fit. He should follow the advice of Laura, and invest in assembling some set of plain Labyrinth clothes that could pass for mundane ones. Those garments would keep adjusting themselves to his growing frame as he progressed through Professions… and the increasing size that came with them.

But that was for the future; probably at least late next year, if not early 1821, when they reached tier five and Adjusted once again.

Or if he died and Adjusted while forcing open some gates in a few months. A sobering thought.

Finally, an usher led him to a smallish room, where a table with refreshments was set up, and he was greeted by her Royal Highness, Calculating Tactician Charlotte of Wales.

He bowed properly, but she extended her wrist and they shared descriptors, as any ordinary Professionals would.

“My. You have progressed fast. If a bit weird. A one-Milestone Profession?”

“Necessary to make sure we could qualify for the assault on Versailles, your Highness. They asked for tier-four at the very least, so we got into tier four in time. No matter what.”

“For which we thank you, Resilient Spellwrangler Sims,” she replied.

The other three persons in the room immediately rose and bowed slightly. Jonas had recognized both men, of course. He’d introduced the Prince-Consort himself to a team in the Labyrinth last winter, and the man he’d found at the Village two weeks ago was now familiar as well. The woman next to him wasn’t, but he could hazard a guess that she was Gustav IV’s wife, a refugee in England, now reunited with her husband.

“As my father barely speaks any English, I want to thank you for rescuing him,” the young Gustav Vasa said.

“Just doing my duty, your Highness,” Jonas replied.

The Prince relayed Jonas’s answer and the King of Sweden replied a short sentence, which he translated back.

“If all men did their duty, the world would be a better place.”

“That is words of wisdom, your Highness,” he replied.

The woman added her own voice, “And I… thank you… for what you did.”

Jonas bowed in turn.

“England stands with you,” he said, looking obliquely at the Royal Princess.

“And we will get back your country,” she confirmed.

“Even if the Dominion is unravelling by the day,” Charlotte added, “the rebuilt Europe will never be the same. But that lackey Bernadotte will be gone as soon as we can make it. Once he realizes the world order he was part of is now falling apart, Sweden will have her king back.”

The five of them munched on sweets and drank more tea in relative silence, Jonas perfectly willing to avoid trying to make royal conversation. Finally, the older Swedish couple rose and excused themselves.

“My husband is still… recovering from his time in the French’s Village. But if you ever come to Sweden, in future years, be assured you will always be welcome at the palace in Stockholm.”

Jonas watched politely the monarch of Sweden leave. He still looked as good as the day he’d reached out in that small housing in the Village in Versailles. For a second, he wondered if he’d used the skyship, before realizing it was almost certainly the case if he was already there and recovering.

“Thankfully, my father wasn’t a prisoner for long, unlike some,” the Prince said once his parents had left.

“It’s more that he finds himself overwhelmed,” Charlotte added.

“It’s not as if Sweden and England’s royal families haven’t been close often,” her husband replied.

“True, but not that tight. And both of us Professionals,” she replied.

“Congratulations on your tier-two by the way,” Jonas offered the Prince.

“I’d be working on preparing for tier-three, if I had the opportunity… sorry,” he said.

The wince on Charlotte’s face was well visible, even without the 80+ in Focus score of Jonas.

“Well, I do have an excuse to keep you around, at least,” she said.

“Not that I mind…”

“But we both know we’d rather get our hands on a sword or something, and see what new zone lies beyond the horizon.”

“And once I have enough levels, we probably will,” Gustav replied.

“Sorry, Sims,” she said suddenly, realizing his discomfort at being witness to the somewhat personal exchange.

“It’s no bother, your Highness. Conception problems?”

“Yes. Grandfather’s health isn’t that good, despite the efforts of Professional healers, and the untimely death of my father has reminded him of the vagaries of inheritance,” she replied.

“So, I am not going to neglect my duty like my regretted father or all of my uncles did for so long. But hopefully, our first child will come soon, and it will be a son, so he can inherit both crowns, as the Swedish still practice Salic law.”

Jonas thought about it.

“It will be interesting. Don’t you stand to lose the Kingship of Hanover?”

“It’s a trade-up, you mean?” she laughed lightly. “Not that it means much, as there are no real pretenders to that title left. I mean, it will go to one of my uncles of course, but since none of them have official heirs…”

“Even after the Village raid?” Jonas asked.

“Even so. But otherwise, yes. Until it is confirmed that I am with child, and then his or her birth, I am not to step inside the Labyrinth. Too dangerous. Most of the Professionals don’t even know they are pregnant until they cross the Great Gate and realize they’ve miscarried and lost the foetus moments later.”

“Aren’t there signs?”

“Not much for Professionals. We don’t get sick as many expectant women do, and we don’t have any form of visible periods, so it’s not until the baby starts growing enough that you can be sure.”

“Laura mentioned being lucky not having to deal with that when we were stuck in the Labyrinth, but I always thought it was due to not being able to conceive while in the Labyrinth once we learned about that.”

“No. But once we know for sure, at least Gustav will be able to travel again and catch up to me. I just need him back often enough,” she laughed lightly.

“We should put him on the rolls of the High Labyrinth Office next to you, Your Highness.”

She laughed again.

“But you have. The Duke was hardly going to let him be put on some random British noble’s rolls, no matter how that turned out.”

“So… life is returning to normal.”

Charlotte pouted slightly.

“No. It will assuredly take a year to untangle the mess that the Dominion has made of Europe. We still haven’t a formal surrender, as almost no one is in a position to decide on that. The former co-consuls that Napoleon dismissed after becoming sole Tyrant don’t really have any authority to do so, and I hear most of his generals are still willing to fight.”

“We missed the man.”

“Not your fault,” Gustav said. “But if we can prepare properly before the Gate reopens… because we’re pretty sure Napoleon will try something then.”

“We will all be ready,” Jonas asserted.

“It’s in the future. And no one wants to face that problem for as long as we can. Our government is already fighting over how to manage the Restoration. I mean, getting Louis XVIII was a surprise. No one knew what happened to him after Vienna. But not many are ready to leave France in control of its own Gate,” she said.

Jonas was surprised. He would have thought that the legitimate King of France was a non-issue… but he also realized that the strategic control of a Gate next to their own was going to be a hot topic for the British parliament. Substituting an unknown King to the ambitious Tyrant?

“How is the war progressing then, if nobody is surrendering?”

“I don’t have much information; the War Department is still keeping the news at the minimum they want. I got surprised when I learned of the attack, the secret was well kept. But I know from grandfather that we have prisoners, the important ones are being transferred to London, and resistance is slowly being broken. Those Land Leviathans of theirs are fearsome in a fast offence campaign, but dispersed, on a purely reactive war without a unified command, that’s not a great peril, or so the strategists assure my grandfather. By the time their main army is finally disengaged from their doomed Ottoman campaign, it’ll be too late for them to make a difference.”

“It is going to feel strange, not being at war with France,” Jonas said.

“Given the history, we were always fated to be enemies, even without the Great Gates. But we shall see if we can break that cycle.”

“What about you,” she turned back. “No war, no risk of French assassins?”

“We still have things to do,” Jonas replied.

He started to explain about the Gates and the plans to boost their vitals. Both royals listened carefully to the whole scheme.

“I remember watching you suffer when you kicked the Gate open,” Charlotte said, once he’d finished. “That’s a rather hefty price you pay. I’m not surprised you’d try to avoid that at all costs.”

“Levels and gear will help prevent a recurrence of that, your Highness,” he replied.

“Don’t… worry overmuch. It’s only a bunch of money, not the fate of the British Empire. Money is the backbone of the Kingdom, and the supplies of Power Crystal important, but everyone can wait a little longer if need be.”

“Will they? We broke those Gates, after all.”

“It’s one of those things everyone knows, but will politely ignore. You even need to read between the lines of the Times to guess about it. Take your time. Your team has earned that.”

“It would feel weird,” Jonas explained.

“I know, Professionals are resilient, but we are still – despite what some say – human. I’ve been in the Labyrinth since I was fifteen and got into the Gate on a dare, and believe me, going on all the time takes a toll on you.”

“Imposing Knight Cowen said the same last year,” he noted.

“She’s a veteran of two decades of Labyrinth and one of the few on top. If she says that, you can trust her on it. It would be a sad day for Britain if your team fell apart. That’s not a royal command… just a Professional suggestion.”

The sun was already close to setting as he stepped out of the Royal Palace. The weather felt cold, but not too much, as winter officially approached. He looked at the early evening of this December and started walking briskly toward the Great Gilded Gate.

And, in a way, home.

Jonas Mark Sims

Health: 1966/1966 (1321)

Mind: 1958/1958 (1831)

Endurance: 855/855

Aether: 3457/3457

Effective level: 163 (155)

Level 26 Resilient Spellwrangler

Level 18 Massive Aethershaper

Level 39 Solid Aethershaper

Level 42 Aetherist

Level 30 Arcanist

Experience: 31856/96296

Strength: 71 (56)

Dexterity: 74 (62)

Agility: 73 (50)

Constitution: 59 (49)

Stamina: 44

Wisdom: 58

Focus: 84 (57)

Presence: 88 (53)

Fortitude: 95 (56)

Intellect: 171 (112)

Defence rating: 4

35% faster levelling

5% levels

15% elemental damage

5% ice damage

1% lightning damage

2% elemental economy

12% earth damage

5% aether damage

7% movement speed

Milestones: Adjustment VII, Arcanist II, Aetherist III, Solid Aethershaper III, Massive Aethershaper I, Resilient Spellwrangler II

Skills: Flame Bolt (3), Elemental Spray (3), Fire Funnel (3), Aetheric Armor (0+2), Air Burst (1), Ice Dart (1), Rock Spikes (0+1), Asphyxiate (0+1), Aether Strangle (0+1), Firefall (0), Everburn (0), Lightblast (0), Earth Grasp (0), Ice Storm (0), Aether Window (0), Earth Body (0), Firespark (0), Freeze Limb (0)

Equipment: Bearling-Claw String Pendant (18INT/16FOR/15STR/ 184hp/6%earth), Swirling Black Band of the Castikan Moonwolf (+2aether armor/+1aether strangle/27FOC/26INT/24PRE/23FOR/23AGI/283hp/5%aetherdmg/7%speed), Black Glass Orb (15INT/12DEX/11PRE/10CON/178hp/125mind/+1rockspike/+1asphyxiate/1%light/1%ice/5%lvl)