At the heart of the Upper District, in a cave alit by torches with violet flame, where stalagmites hung and jutted out from the earth, sharpened to make personal points; there was only one place suitable for comfortable seating, an outcropping of stone that seemed to once be a stalagmite, the widest of them all, now shaved off to an unnatural smoothness. On it, two men sat.

“You’re certain about this?” A man said after he placed down his cup.

Sitting opposite of him, a man who abstained from the tea and allowed his white crow to lap it up for him, “Much so. I haven’t been absent from the clan for nothing, child.”

Ancestor Hao; Patriarch Meng, son of Hao Grittus. Two of the upmost influential and powerful figures in the clan—titans who’ve supported their clan, and most importantly—dynasty for countless years. An Ancestor worked in the shadows, a retired patriarch of his family or clan, it was customary for these figures to sit secluded away for many years as their responsibility has been transferred to their heir, leaving them free to pursue the Path as they wished.

“It’s a long shot, but… with these preparations.” Patriarch Meng looked over a diagram printed on silk paper, with detailed illustration should the intricacies of the work be missed by the less knowledgeable. Meng was a man in his upper years, but still shared many hints to the debonair he may have been, with his gelled hair and fashionable jewelry, looking more like a young man trapped in a body double his age.

The two couldn’t have looked any more different—in countenance or appearance. Yet, they still acknowledged their familial bond.

Laying the diagram to the side, Patriarch Meng picked up a piece on his side of their board game, placing it down with a satisfying tap, “How was your trip, by the way?”

Ancestor Hao grunted, either because of the change on the board or the question asked. “Fine, rather dull if I say. Food’s top of its class however,” He made his move.

“Father, you’re a member of the highest authority in the land’s court and all you have to describe for it is ‘dull’? Are you sure you’re not describing yourself?” Meng blinked, then made his move.

“Bah! Your tongue’s gotten loose over the years. No fear for my temper?”

Patriarch Meng shrugged, “If you had one, my life would’ve gone so much more smoothly. So many mistakes.” He made his move; and another—with his sword-like hand diving into Ancestor Hao’s chest. The robed elder coughed intermittent spouts of blood, ruining the dye of Hao’s robe before hitting the floor as a corpse.

His crow cawed. The Ancestor sat just as he was. His corpse? Dissipating to nothingness.

The Ancestor raised his head. Staring. He made his move with a slightly harder tap on the board. “You’ve advanced. Good. I would’ve broken your wrist otherwise.” It was not a joke, the Ancestor never made jokes.

Patriarch Meng stared at his hand as the ‘blood’ of his father vanished with his illusion, doppelganger, whatever he called it. Taking his attention back to the board, he lifted his piece, “Too slow,” He put it down. “It doesn’t feel like advancement to the next level if I can’t even draw blood.”

“Draw my blood? How cruel, the desire to harm your father almost warms my heart.” Ancestor Hao lifted his head, “You’re too hard on yourself, boy. It took me an extra thirty years to reach where you are, yet you’re dissatisfied?”

“Stop that, you know full well of what I feel. Someone must look over the clan in your absence over in that… One-City Ridiculousness. To think she requires you to always be physically at her court means she has not a thought about the other responsibilities you’re beholden to. Because she has some power, she can command all—”

“Answered your own question, my son.” Ancestor Hao made his move, then flicked a treat up in the air, high enough that nobody would be able to reach it in one jump, his crow shot from his shoulder; caught the treat and was on his shoulder wolfing it down. “One follows the Path to bring enlightenment to themselves, and in that, truths and destinies only unlockable by deciding to walk down that road. One destiny acquired is the strength to shape others. Just like how you, shaped one man’s so long ago. I still remember that.”

Patriarch Hao’s gaze drifted. “I know, I know. But… how can she be so arrogant? Is she unafraid of retaliation?” On his next move, he twitched as he saw his closed off routes, forcing through would be difficult, so he slammed it down.

“It is because she’s arrogant, that gives us the berth to act as we please. Allowing my, and your, preparation to go so far. The Thousand-Bone Throne,” He said.

His gaze moved past their insignificant hovel they called home, to the west, where a city walked on the clouds and towers reached into heaven, “It’s said those who’ve sat in it take in the wisdom of their fallen enemies. Sounds like pigwash, but if taken literally there would be an explanation for her royal family’s sudden appearance every generation with a new son or daughter of heaven. Centuries of them, many sitting at around the same level of advancement. Strange, wouldn’t you think?” He made his move.

Taking a glance at the board, Patriarch Meng cringed. “Yes, it is odd if you look back through their lineage. Back when I was a boy, I remember her father being a level below the future Queen’s, correct?”

“A bold child for audaciously probing out the strength of your monarch, but yes, he is weaker than his daughter is now. Killed a lot less people if I add,” Ancestor Hao said.

They both shared a look. Without a doubt, the resemblance was there.

He moved his piece, shoving one of his father’s out of the way. “If we run by your theory, their greatest legacy would be not their kingdom, nor their endless stockpile of resources, but some… throne that stores the power of its master’s enemies, and then, when the time is right, provide that back to an heir? It’s a good fiction, father.”

Ancestor Hao slammed the table, “It’s nothing like a fiction you stupid boy! For the years I’ve been aware of it, I’ve been watching them during this suspicion, the amount of men and loose ends I’ve had to bury to even be confident, confident! That I’m not spouting silliness to the choir. The year her father died it made it clear as day. I sat at her coronation, five years prior to that the girl sat at maybe half of the stage that I reached, five years later she has suddenly surpassed all of her subjects by a full realm? In what reality does that make sense?!”

“They have some great treasure on their hands, a treasure that they had flaunted in front of our noses for generations and never have we thought any better! They were laughing at us, Hao, laughing! I laughed too; I did! How stupid of me, stupid of us! Each heir that has sat upon that throne has looked down on us, talked in length of some nonsense then demanded tribute and loyalty! No more! I will sit upon that throne and I will be the ruler. Our clan—will be rulers.”

His gaze steeled. “I have believed your ridiculous tale of being bested by a stray woman from nowhere and dealt with her accordingly. Now I ask of you to do the same for me.”

Patriarch Hao couldn’t hold contact.

“…Quite a bit of work you did to our rising stars. A tad overboard, I would say.” The Ancestor said.

“I didn’t hear you say this four years ago.”

“Because four years ago I could not care less. Today they would be of some help in our plans, but you had to go ahead and let your pride be hurt. There’s nothing wrong with a loss.”

Patriarch Hao couldn’t believe what he was hearing, “In front of our clan?! The other vassals of the Queen?! We would’ve been seen as weak!”

Ancestor Hao made a face. “We are weak. You care too much of what others think about you, a trait both you and your son, Xinrei share. Speaking of him, how’s his cultivation been going?” The Ancestor frowned at his pinning, but smiled as he had an idea, making his move.

“If he doesn’t play with his food… undefeatable at his level. Why?”

Ancestor Hao nodded. “Good. We won’t be able to pull any of your tricks this time. Her Highness will be watching us closely with her Honorguard. Long as we have someone to distract the crowd, a young talent obviously, then it will be substantially simpler to get things in motion. Xinrei will be that piece.”

“He will be elated to hear it.”

“’Course, and one more thing.”

“The hosting’ll be on us. She, and the rest of the court and their representatives, will be right here, at the heart of the clan.”

It took a lot to surprise Patriarch Meng, who despite his inadequacies compared to his father, still reigned, and walked as an experienced warrior, cultivator, and master on his Path. Had his father not been blessed with the gift of a long life, he would be the one titled “Ancestor”. But as of right now— “What! She’s lost her head! We don’t have the facilities to support that many people!” He said.

Ancestor Hao agreed, “Yes… she really has grown up to be unbearable, even more reason to take that throne before the damage gets worse. However, we have two years of preparation. Calm down.”

The Patriarch’s son cut himself off from the discussion with the closure of his eyes. For ordinary men, the cognition for the math he’d done would’ve required a pen and paper. But he was the Patriarch, and not only that—a cultivator, what takes an ordinary man to count with scribbles and formulas on paper he’d done in seconds. “We’re still short. If my estimate was correct. I did account for additional visitors.”

“Simple. Demolish whatever’s in the way. If I remember right, there’s some abandoned properties on the outskirts of Leimuth?”

“Something like that.”

“Well then, I trust you to handle it.” The Ancestor brought up a half-grin. “Check my quarters, there should be an appropriate amount to cover the cost.”

The Ancestor stood up, dusting off his robes as he did.

“What, you’re just going to leave, now? Game’s not finished yet.” His son said.

Ancestor Hao chuckled, “Oh, but it is. Besides, I have duties to fulfill back in her court.” Without a goodbye, he dissipated just as he does when that strange technique is active. The crow the last to go, making a final caw before joining its master.

Patriarch Meng stared at the board, as if he tried to make out a meaning behind a meaning; shaking his head when the analysis went cold. He had been cornered, long ago, actually—the Ancestor had just never finished what he started. “Who’s the one playing with their food? If anything, you have that one mastered perfectly.”

Letting himself drift to someplace else, “Four years… I never did get to apologize for that, but what use that would be,” He said, grinning, “when trouble’ll find you again?”