Emperor Ji Meng had not been able to learn much about this land he found himself stranded in. His captors kept him well-guarded on the ship that they had taken from him in his failed invasion. Though surrounded by the silk of his personal quarters, they might have well been steel bars. He had thought this fleet indomitable when it departed from the docks of the south. Over land and sea his army travelled, the winds at their back like some divine blessing the whole way. In a day, fortune turned to deep misfortune as he was reminded that he, too, was mortal.
But Ji Meng did not lose his patience. He was kept alive for a reason—a reason that was sure to make itself clear in the days to come. Days became weeks, and weeks a month. Then, finally, a rope descended from the heavens with which he could climb back up. It came in the form of elves. Though wiped out in the Great Chu, various races of their kind persisted in this land he’d intended to plunder. These ones called themselves Veidimen.
The Veidimen leader, Patriarch Dras, sat across from Ji Meng. He was bald, and had sharp white eyes that peered down upon him with authority. These elves all possessed giant stature, but their size meant little when he was already a captive stripped of weapon and armor and forced to drink a draught that suppressed his vital force.
“You’ve met my daughter, but we’ve never spoken,” Patriarch Dras said after he’d introduced himself.
Ji Meng remained still. “Remind me.”
“The queen,” the patriarch said proudly.
Ji Meng narrowed his eyes. Some things were falling into place. This was an alliance of some sort. Perhaps the elves were vassal to the king. It did explain why Argrave gave her the authority to sit and speak next to him as an equal.
“Does she know we’re speaking?” Ji Meng pried. If there was dissent, he might capitalize on it.
“The royal couple suggested this conversation.” Dras placed his big hands on the table before them. “An interesting question, though. You’re quite the schemer, aren’t you?”
The emperor was annoyed, but he tried not to show it as he asked, “What is it you want with me?” There didn’t seem to be a single hint of disunity in this whole endeavor. Ji Meng supposed a leader willing to assault an enemy flagship personally would certainly have no trouble earning the trust of those beneath him.
“Argrave suggested that we use you as a claimant in our invasion of the Great Chu.”
Ji Meng’s mind reeled with the news, but he remained calm outwardly.
Dras pointed at him. “If not for your character, it might’ve been a good idea.”
“My character?” Ji Meng repeated.
“I don’t think I could control you. You’ll play along until you have an opportunity to break free. I thought about breaking your spine and cutting off your hands to neutralize you utterly, but then you’d be less effective as a claimant.” Dras set his hands on his knees. “I imagine it’d be hard to accept a cripple as the Emperor of the Great Chu. Thus, revolts. Thus, a less peaceful transfer of power.”
Ji Meng took a drink of the brew in front of him. When silence stretched out, he beckoned. “You’ve got more to say, so just say it.”
Dras began again as if he’d been waiting for permission. “The people that puppeteered your imperial court have acted more prudently than expected. Our mole on the inside was discovered and purged, and their strategy has changed. This entire continent is effectively under siege. We had expected to be launching our counter-invasion by this time.”
“Continental siege?” Ji Meng’s disbelief flavored his tone.
“Yes.” Dras’ nod was troubled. “Even gods can build siege weapons. But unlike, say, a trebuchet… the stones that they sling can bridge continents. And they don’t sling stones, either. They sling magic of devastating proportions that has the potential to wipe out a city.”
It sounded absurd, but Ji Meng couldn’t bring himself to laugh. He had heard tales of the cycle of judgment. New cruelties of war were born every millennium under the desperation it wrought.
“The situation has changed.” Dras looked at Ji Meng firmly. “We can defend against the siege, and we have long been self-sustaining. But it wears us down and diverts us from the main goal. We can no longer afford to wait idly while the Qircassian Coalition rains hellfire upon this continent. They either know this… or got lucky. We can tolerate neither.”
“Where do I come in? Unless you wished to consult me for advice, I don’t see the point of telling me anything.”
“You need to be apprised of events. You’re going to be a part of them.” Dras watched intently. “How do you want this situation to end for you?”
Ji Meng laughed. “I should be grateful for survival.”
A chirp sounded out, and Ji Meng only now noticed a golden bird watching in the corner of the room.
Patriarch Dras shook his head. “You should be honest. That bird has a clever mind within it, and she hates lies.”
Ji Meng tapped his knee, irritated. “That would be a prized pet in the imperial court.” There were too many unknowns in this place. A bird that disliked lies? It didn’t feel like a bluff, but he decided to try it again. “I want my men to get out of this alive.”
The bird chirped again.
“Once more,” Dras prompted him heartlessly.
“Very well…” Ji Meng leaned in a little closer. “I want to become emperor once more. I want to purge my court of all the people that’ve corrupted it, and get vengeance against the gods that’ve enacted this plan. I want to ensure that my family, my lineage, survives, because I love them.”
Dras waited, but the bird stayed silent. The patriarch nodded. “Any other targets of vengeance?”
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“Of course. The suns and the moon, alongside all flies and dragons. I’ll kill the world,” Ji Meng declared grandly.
The bird chirped.
Dras was similarly unmoved by the joke. “You don’t harbor a grudge against Vasquer?”
Ji Meng knew he should not answer. “Why even ask? It would take centuries to build a fleet large enough to contest yours. If I bore a grudge, it would never bear fruit.”
“Fine,” Dras nodded. He didn’t seem displeased that Ji Meng refused to answer.
The emperor studied the bird. There seemed to be some intelligence in those eyes. Perhaps it could discern more than lies.
He looked back to his interrogator. “What now?”
Patriarch Dras rose to his feet. “There will be more questions to ask, and more answers for you to give. For now, content yourself with this; you will be returning to the Great Chu. And should things go our way, it will be the site of the most important war in the entire history of the world.”
#####
Orion swung his sword in a heavy, fast overhead swing. Argrave barely caught his brother’s blade with his parrying dagger, pulled it to the side with the guard, and then lashed out with his own sword. Orion sidestepped, then struck out at Argrave’s knee with a kick. Argrave disentangled his dagger to dodge, and metal rattled against metal in the exchange. Orion came again with a thrust, but Argrave slapped the blade aside with his dagger, then watched Orion cautiously. The black-haired brothers circled each other, gray eyes steady and combative. Orion’s gaze broke away first, looking to the sun.
“That’s the hour. Your reactions are getting somewhat better, Your Majesty.” Orion usually gave effusive praise, but as Argrave’s trainer, had remained rather practical. “Using weapons of blood will make things easier for you, but it’ll be good to practice with steel.”
Argrave shook the arm that held the parrying dagger. Orion wore no armor at all, while Argrave wore his full set of armor that strengthened him in both magical and divine manners. Despite that, Orion’s raw strength still overpowered him. The blessings from Vasquer’s faux-pantheon persisted in his brother, strong as ever.
Still, after all this direct training, Argrave could block a blow from Orion with nothing but enhanced strength and a hardy dagger. That meant something. More importantly, he learned how to contest foes in close quarters. With his blood echoes, he could teleport to any position in a battle using [Echo Step]. With Orion’s training, he felt like he might be powerful enough for what was coming up.
“Let’s go,” he told Orion.
Orion nodded, heading to retrieve his discarded armor. Argrave waited patiently, while he thought of someone else enduring the same sort of lesson from a master perhaps even harsher than Orion…
#####
“Don’t tell anyone you’re my pupil,” Rowe the Righteous, master spellcaster of Veiden, said as he looked upon Anneliese. “I don’t want to be embarrassed.”
“Very helpful, thank you,” Anneliese nodded.
Rowe crossed his legs on the stool he sat upon. “Do you think S-rank magic is something so easily mastered? Do you think I can merely say a word or two and have you capable of breaching the wall?”
“All you’ve done is provoke me. I cannot recall a word you’ve said on the subject, let alone two,” Anneliese shook her head.
“Memory issues so young. Hmm.” Rowe smoked from a pipe, blowing rings into the air.
Anneliese stepped away from the smoke and watched him, then corrected her long white hair. “That will harm you if you keep doing it.”
“So does being old. I’ve done it thus far without dying.” Rowe looked at her, then begrudgingly snuffed out the pipe with ice magic. “Fine. It’s a human habit, anyhow.” He emptied the pipe of its contents, then focused on her amber eyes. “Listen… considering you’re going to dismantle that Qircassian Coalition soon, perhaps we should give up on teaching you S-rank magic. We should round out your fundamentals.”
“I can do it,” Anneliese insisted. “I can learn.”
“Can you?” Rowe stashed the pipe away. “No matter. I’ve held you up. You have something to tend to.”
“Oh!” Anneliese looked reminded of it only now, and stepped away to leave without much more dialogue. When she left the room, Rowe stared at where she was.
“Yes, you can learn. You’re a damned monster…” Rowe mumbled bitterly. “Why did I work so hard? For lucky pissers like that… for the talented…”
With a long sigh, Rowe got out his pipe again, already lamenting having emptied it.
#####
Argrave and his closest counsel sat in a table. His sister spoke to him quickly, reading from a paper.
“One of the attacks did make it through. I’m told not many lives were lost, but it did set fire to a large portion of the royal forest in the southeast.” Elenore looked up at Argrave as she concluded her report. “The wildfire caused a fair bit of damage to the wildlife, yet a Magister of the Order managed to quell the flames.”
“Good lord…” Argrave lamented. “These attacks don’t relent.”
“Almazora is well-suited to defend as she is a goddess of magic. But even she cannot prevent every blast over the whole continent,” the Alchemist said.
“They should have done this from the beginning,” Melanie remarked. “Seems to be working rather well.”
“They thought they were ambushing us with their naval invasion. Sataistador was the only reason we knew about it in advance,” Anneliese reminded her.
“Their utter lack of response disquiets me,” said Galamon. “We expected an invasion from the heart of their forces after the defeat of the imperial navy. Instead, they chip away at us. Why? We can endure these attacks forever.”
“Could be Sataistador. He’s stopped giving us information about the Qircassian Coalition. He said his mole was purged, but that’s a little dubious,” Durran speculated. He’d placed more gold tattoos on his face, and they aligned nicely with his eyes of the same color. “Maybe our god of war has changed sides. Maybe he intends to take us on with them at his side.”
“If Sataistador switched sides, I suspect he would already be tearing through the countryside recklessly,” Anneliese guessed.
“I appreciate everyone’s insight, but the bottom line is this: the Alchemist has confirmed that Gerechtigkeit’s power has been amplified ever since Sophia was freed of Sandelabara.” Argrave tapped the table. “He’s going to be stronger by many magnitudes. I thought we were ready, but now we’re going to need to bring the strength of the world to our side. To do that, we have to eliminate our biggest rival decisively, and make peace with those who remain.”
Everyone looked at him, waiting for that final wall to collapse. Even Argrave knew what had to be done, but saying it was a different matter.
“…considering their strategy, that means heading to the Great Chu,” Argrave finally said.
“Even assuming that can be pulled off, what if it backfires?” Onychinusa, the ancient elf, chimed in. “The last thing the gods want is an uncontested power. What if they unite to fight us?”
“If that should happen, we withstand their coalition, and when Gerechtigkeit comes, they’ll be all the easier to redirect,” Argrave rebutted. Even he thought the idea was a little lacking. But that was just the thing—with the situation as it was, the Qircassian Coalition had forced their hand. “I’m going to meet with Sataistador one last time,” Argrave told them. “It’ll be the same as the last times—tense. All of you should be ready. After that… we prepare to lift this continental siege.”
