“Are you certain this is a good idea?”

Yue was chewing her thumbnail down to the quick with worry, despite Jia’s best efforts to calm her down.

“No, but it’s all we’ve got. Chou must have created this place for a reason, but if he thought that everything is predetermined, then why? What’s the point of putting us through all of this, telling us that our failure is inevitable, then just killing us?”

“Maybe he just has a penchant for cruelty. One last bit of senseless torture for old times sake.”

Jianmo chuckled, their voice echoing from the sword at Eui’s hip as they made their way towards the palace.

“That does sound like something he would do, actually.”

Yue gestured helplessly at the sword.

“See?! You’re walking into a death trap!”

Eui shrugged.

“Probably. That’s why we’re going alone. For better or worse, this part of the soulscape seems to be safe now. If anything happens to us, it will be up to you to find another way. Maybe Zheng Long can eventually master his technique and use it to break you all out.”

“That already sounds like a much better plan than just walking into the center of the Bloody Sovereign’s power and asking for a chat. Why aren’t we going with that? Time moves differently here—why not take advantage of it?”

Jia frowned, trying to find the words.

“It feels like giving up. I think that’s what Chou wants us to do. To break down and accept fate, like he did. That feels wrong to me.”

“Oh, so now you know better than the eons old ruthless killer who stopped at nothing to gather more power? Everything he built, all of the revelations he came to across those billions of years, amount to nothing because it ‘feels wrong’ to Yoshika.”

“Yeah, pretty much.”

Jianmo laughed.

“I don’t hate that attitude! In fact, it’s precisely why I love you girls so much. But he’s definitely just going to kill you.”

Eui scoffed.

“If that’s the best argument he can come up with, then his philosophy wasn’t worth shit to begin with.”

Yue buried her face in her hands and groaned.

“You are insufferable when you set your minds to something. At least promise me that if it comes down to a fight you will flee rather than try to stand your ground. I’m not sure what the rest of us can do to help, but at least that’s more in line with the original plan to lure him out—even if it is the stupidest possible way to go about it.”

Eui chuckled.

“Sure. Can we leave things out here in your hands?”

“As usual. This is starting to become a pattern, girls. Are you always going to foist your leadership responsibilities onto me?”

“As long as you keep letting us.”

Yue pinched the bridge of her nose and grimaced.

“I hate you. Why did I ever agree to align myself with you?”

Jia giggled.

“Love you too, Yue. Don’t worry, we’ll be back before you know it.”

“If you aren’t, I will drag your soul out of whatever afterlife does or does not exist just so that I can kill you again myself.”

Jia surprised Yue with a hug.

“I know. Thanks for always being there for us.”

Yue returned the hug sheepishly.

“You give me far too much credit. Now if you’ll excuse me, I’m going to go figure out how to break the news to the others, since I know you didn’t consult anyone else about this.”

Jia turned away innocently, ignoring Yue’s judgmental scowl. Eui just shrugged.

“Good luck.”

“You too. Idiots.”

Chou’s palace was even more intimidating up close. Like the soul gate that had served as the first threshold, it was impossibly huge, stretching from one horizon to the other. The ornate steps would have taken days to ascend normally, but Yoshika just flew.

As she ascended towards the entrance, she took a moment to mentally prepare herself. For the time being, she’d reabsorbed Jia, Eui, and Kaede’s avatars and sent Rika and Eunae home. In a way, that meant she was just Meili, but the division of her bodies was just an illusion anyway. Right now, she felt like Yoshika.

That didn’t stop her from having an internal dialogue, though.

“You don’t have to join us, you know. We can find a way to restore you first—like we did with Zheng Long.”

It was harder to tell which identity she was representing when doing it internally, but it was halfway performative anyway—more of a mnemonic for organizing her thoughts than an actual conversation.

“That’s a kind offer, but I’ve already chosen. Being disembodied gives me a rare chance to correct all of the mistakes I’ve made in my martial arts. I will be the second pure martial artist to ascend to xiantian.”

“Really? Even after all this, you’re still committed to that path?”

“I have to consider my people as well. They won’t all convert to unified cultivation so readily—not all at once. I have to show them that it can be done, and teach them how. To carry on in our master’s footsteps without the burden of her mistakes.”

Yoshika was nervous about the risks she was taking with so much on the line, but nothing was gained without risk. Ancient cultivators like Shen Yu and Chou survived as long as they did by avoiding risk wherever possible, but in doing so they stagnated. She couldn’t afford to play things safe with the path she now walked.

Which reminded her...

“I’ve been trying not to think about it, but are we really planning to found a new nation on the mainland?”

“Why not? Most of the groundwork is already done, and Geumji is all but taken. Once we’ve established ourselves there, it’s just a matter of staking our claim and declaring independence.”

“I feel like that’s glossing over a whole lot of giant problems.”

“Of course it is. But that’s why we have allies like Dae and Yue to help us make it work. There’s only so much that we can do on our own. We won’t be able to hold on to the Sovereign’s Tear without the strength of a nation behind us, and I don’t trust the ones that already exist.”

“Not even our homeland?”

Yoshika chuckled ruefully.

“Especially not our homeland. It won’t be easy, but with the pacts and alliances we’ve already formed...it’s possible.”

With that sobering thought tucked neatly away, Yoshika arrived at the massive palace doors. Like the previous gate, they existed in multiple dimensions at once—this time, however, Yoshika’s strength alone was more than enough to open them.

As she stepped across the threshold, she felt the space around her warping, trying to pull her deeper into the soulscape. She resisted it as much as she could, but the moment her domain started to gain ground against the essence powering the effect, a wave of divine essence slammed into her—completely washing away her influence.

In an instant, she found herself standing within an austere white hallway, with only a thin gold trim in each corner indicating where the walls met the floor and ceiling.

The hallway stretched out ahead of and behind her for what seemed like forever, and the air was heavy with pure divine essence. The weight of the divine essence made the previous layers look gentle by comparison, and Yoshika was glad that she’d decided to come alone.

The essence here would have killed the others instantly—with the possible exception of Zheng Long, if he was at full strength.

“Hello? Sovereign Chou? Administrator? Is anybody here?”

There was no response.

“Jianmo, is this what his home looked like?”

“No. He was never much of a decorator, but this is a bit spartan even for him. It must be another test of some sort.”

Great. More distractions.

Yoshika tried to expand her influence, but once again the oppressive force of the essence in the air resisted her. As beneficial as the training had been last time, Yoshika didn’t relish the idea of wasting weeks just learning how to fight back against the constant pressure.

She closed her eyes and tried to feel the connection back to Geumji. A tiny piece of her remained there, sustaining her avatar and Kaede’s body, but if she let her concentration slip, the divine essence in the air would crush her. In the best case, she would survive, but be permanently ejected from Chou’s realm as her body there was destroyed.

In the worst, her souls wouldn’t survive being forced back through the narrow connection so violently, and she would end up like Zheng Long or worse.

So she was trapped, for now, and since the Bloody Sovereign wasn’t making himself known, she had nothing to do but advance.

“Screw that!”

Yoshika drew Jianmo and swung the sword down on the nearest wall with all her might. The edge of the blade caught purchase on the wall, digging a few inches in before getting stuck.

Jianmo laughed.

“Oh, good job, girls. You got me stuck in a rock. You know, that’s pretty much the one thing I was hoping wouldn’t happen while I was trapped in this form, but you managed to find a way.”

“Tsk, shut up. If your stupid master wants to teach us a lesson about inevitability or fate or whatever, I’m going to fight it at every turn.”

Yoshika wrenched Jianmo out of the wall and took another swing, widening the scratch just a little.

“Do you suppose you could find a way to do that which doesn’t involve using me as a pickaxe?”

“Only if you’ve got a better idea.”

Jianmo did not, so she took another swing. Yoshika didn’t get very far before she felt a presence behind her, and turned to see the Bloody Sovereign staring down at her.

“I don’t hate your defiant attitude, but I must ask you not to deface my home.”

She scowled up at him.

“Well maybe you should try being a better host. I know you’ve been watching us the entire time, so why not just show up from the beginning?”

“That is not within the scope of my designated function.”

“You’re here now, aren’t you?”

Chou sighed.

“I’m starting to believe that you really are Jianmo’s disciple.”

Yoshika held the blade up and raised her eyebrow.

“You didn’t think maybe this was a bigger hint? Thanks for the tip, by the way—I’m not sure I would have thought to turn Qin’s own essence against his seal on my own.”

“Your accomplishments are your own—I take no credit for them.”

“If you say so. Jianmo, anything you want to say to your former master?”

“My master is dead, and he wouldn’t have been careless enough to leave a true avatar around. You’re just talking to a very convincing simulation.”

Chou scoffed.

“At least one of you understands. Why have you chosen to rebel against my trials?”

Yoshika put her hands on her hips. Was he being serious?

“Because they’re nonsense? We’ve figured this place out, Chou—it’s the remains of your soulscape. Whatever your trials are, the fact that they lead here makes them impossible. You only allowed houtian cultivators to enter your domain, then made an ultimate challenge that would require someone stronger than you ever were to complete—why?”

“The purpose of the trials is to determine who is worthy to inherit my legacy.”

“Except that you didn’t think anyone was, did you? Does your ‘function’ even account for the possibility of someone actually reaching the tear?”

Chou was silent for a long moment before answering.

“That is not relevant. My role—”

“Choke on your role! If you wanted us dead, you could have just killed us. I could cultivate in the previous layer for a million years and you’d still be able to crush me like an ant on this one, so what’s the point?!”

“That is outside the scope of my...”

He trailed off as Yoshika glared at him. Chou clicked his tongue and turned away.

“You did not read the scroll.”

“Zheng Long did, but he couldn’t really explain it to us.”

Chou turned back and glared down at her.

“To defy the heavens—to break the shackles of fate—means to do the impossible. Compared to that, my trials are child’s play. If you could not overcome this impossibility, then all of my treasures and all of my knowledge would still not be enough for you to overcome fate. Not even the Tear.”

“Does that even matter?”

“It is the only thing that matters. We are each and every one of us born slaves, and we all die slaves. Puppets dancing to the whims of unknowable beings that control all of creation from beyond our reach.”

Yoshika crossed her arms.

“You’re talking about demiurges, right? You were obsessed with becoming one.”

“You are mistaken, young lady. My creator did not seek to become a god of creation. In life, my greatest ambition, and my greatest failure—was to kill them. All of them.”