Zen looked to his daughter, the empress, as they walked through the palace grounds. He wasn’t pleased to have Ji Meng again walk the palace halls, largely for his daughter’s sake. It reminded him of something. He had contracted cancer once before, in his sixties—as a tumor, it wasn’t something that simple healing spells could remove. Great Chu doctors had performed a complex surgery, sustaining his life with their vital force as they excised it. The first procedure, however, hadn’t quite gotten it all. He’d needed another.

Ji Meng was identical to that tumor.

“Keep watch for me, here,” he told his daughter as they came to a spot near the library.

“Alright,” she agreed easily.

Zen went to a low-lying corridor. Apparently even the birds could be the eyes and ears of Argrave’s forces, so he’d needed to take a long detour to come here. He fit his hand into a recess, and a hidden doorway all too common in the imperial palace split the wall open. After walking through, he turned it back. No one was the wiser.

The tunnel beyond was dimly lit, and Zen walked through the corridors with nothing other than his memory to guide. No sound passed through the walls of the palace, so he was alone with his thoughts. Yet in time, he came to a large room with a large table. A hulking man sat cross-legged atop the table—though perhaps ‘man’ was the wrong term. No—it was Sataistador, god of war.

His green eyes fell upon Zen, and the governor felt a chill that no other could inspire. The god said evenly, “If you’ve come to see me, I presume you have news.”

“You were right.” Zen clasped his hands together in some small display of gratitude. “Argrave agreed.”

Sataistador crossed his arms. “Did he ask for anything more?”

“Details of trade between our nations, and some small compensation for the deception.” Zen shook his head. “Barely merits mentioning.”

“There you have it.” Sataistador nodded. “I might’ve spared you even that if I’d gathered information sooner, but it is what it is.”

“You seem more an information broker than a god of war,” said Zen, with a pointed question in the statement.

“The two can be similar. Gerechtigkeit—or as you know it, the test from heaven—does require people possess a degree of competence. And he learns. The work Erlebnis has done here may have been facilitated, in large part, due to his efforts.” Sataistador shrugged calmly. “I needed to be free for what comes next.”

“What does come next?” Zen raised a brow.

Sataistador grabbed a blade on his waist, then drew it so cleanly it made no noise at all. Zen restrained himself from stepping back, and was relieved when the god raised his blade near his head. With one huge hand, he gathered the thick mane of red hair behind him and severed it cleanly. He held the cut hair firmly, and it began to twist, writhe, and coalesce together. Zen watched with awe as what had been hair became a red dagger that seemed no different than forged metal. Sataistador dropped it with the point facing downward. It pierced the ground, going all the way to its hilt.

“For you.” Sataistador’s hair looked somewhat strange after, but after running his hands through a few times it became natural-looking. “I make one of these weapons every millennium. Why, you ask? Back when I was still a man, my tribe cut our hair to prepare for war.”

Zen took the meaning, inhaling deeply.

“As you use it, it’ll adapt to best suit how you fight,” Sataistador continued. “Magic, hand-to-hand, it doesn’t matter; it’ll shape to your needs.” He ran his hands across the other weapons he carried. “Each of these were born looking like that, but in time he’ll grow to suit you. Keep him on you, always.”

kneeled down before the weapon, fearing

can it grow if it isn’t alive? But… like any child, he’s needy. Part from him for even a few minutes, well… you won’t like it. But raise him well, and he can kill gods.” The god

free, examining it, before looking back

faded. “Enjoy

#####

Meng had lost the plot, somewhat—and further, why he was content allowing Argrave to run the show as the legitimate power while the emperor remained a figurehead. There was enough in this place for the emperor to fill up a lifetime. The library alone had enough knowledge to

less structure than the first, and people hung near fences containing the act, milling about and socializing. ‘Vital force artistry,’ it

Argrave was able to indulge his own personal curiosity—he approached Orion, who stood

Ji Li go?”

looked at him. “Some of her relatives pulled her away for some matter—they were vague about what. I could find

said quickly, shaking

content theft: this narrative is not rightfully on Amazon;

us tripped. I’d call it a success, if we’re speaking of walking alone.” Orion ran his hand down

Argrave asked in shock. “You’re kidding,

a great rumble of thunder echoed, and an anglerfish of lightning

plays eight different instruments. Though born without magic, she can transcribe spells up to S-rank and create enchantments of the same caliber. She paints, sculpts, and can perform countless dances, though she has a particular fondness for sword dancing. She’s adept at falconry, and rears half a thousand birds. Whereas I… am a

of that?” Argrave looked surprised. Had it been anyone else, he might’ve thought Ji Li was

Your Majesty?” Orion looked at Argrave, brows

shrugged. “But did you have

enough,” Orion nodded. “I believe I frighten her. And she seems distrustful. She kept asking

“What was the question?”

asked, ‘what do I do to enjoy

narrowed his eyes. “And you

What I generally do—no doubt Your

fox had finally escaped the anglerfish once and for all and darted up toward

way with words.”

“Stutters?” Argrave repeated.

speaks quickly.” Orion nodded. “She got

“Does that

that I suspect that’s why her parents suggested the vow of silence to her

spoke to

Orion said enthusiastically. “She was a tremendous help. I had no clue what to ask. Her words were a lodestar amidst

a knowing nod—now he was making sense of why Orion had such a

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