It was a new day for Emperor Ji Meng. Rest didn’t come easy for the victorious army as hellfire continued to rain down from the sky, but their armies took shelter in a formidable fortress. What little remained of the Blue Emperor’s support fell under their banner without any struggle whatsoever. Within this fortress, the emperor kneeled in the spot the lord of the castle generally occupied, while two people sat at a table they’d dragged into the room, enjoying a large breakfast. Ji Meng wasn’t the lord, in this scenario. These two were.
Emperor Ji Meng looked upon King Argrave and Queen Anneliese. In the past days, he’d seen the king willingly have his heart ripped out by a gargantuan, inhuman demon, only for him to keep talking and delivering orders to his underlings like nothing was amiss. The queen, meanwhile, dropped down in the center of a battlefield, stood her ground against dozens of S-rank spellcasters alone, then fought the champion of an ancient god that ripped a crater into the earth the size of a city. And she’d won that battle.
Ji Meng was rather contented he’d made the right decision, submitting to the duo.
“Are you going to gather errant forces before heading to the capital?” Argrave asked him expectantly, cleaning his hands of crumbs.
Ji Meng shifted where he kneeled, drawn from his thoughts. “No. I’m going to head right for the imperial court, gather what remains of the palace guard, and then regain control over the city. All things stem from Ji—it’ll make the task easier.” He pointed at a body that bore his visage, propped up against the wall—another unnerving thing. “We’ll display that body in a public place. It’s doubly helpful that you slayed him, Queen Anneliese.”
“Because you couldn’t have?” Argrave said with a smile, pushing aside his empty plate.
“That, and it gives me more legitimacy. ‘The emperor didn’t deign to fight the lowly pretender. Instead, the demon was slain by his faithful Grand Commandant’s second-in-command.’” Ji Meng gestured toward them. “I’ve no doubt they’ll be telling legends about you throughout the whole continent. My men ask me endless questions about the white-haired woman.”
As Anneliese smiled without much enthusiasm, Argrave put his hand atop her own. “And you tell anyone that asks, I’m sure, that she’s my wife.”
Ji Meng dipped his head. “Of course. I do have something to advise about, however.”
“Go ahead,” Anneliese encouraged him.
“Governor Zen will hear about me leading armies, my vital force rejuvenated. He’ll be fully aware that this is far beyond the plan that you discussed with him. And with the prospect of me heading to the imperial court—and by extension, the imperial harem, where his power is densest—his distrust of you will reach its apex,” Ji Meng declared clearly and with urgency.
“I’m not sure he ever fully trusted us,” Argrave shrugged, but looked at Anneliese. She gave a silent nod, conveying a cue to the king Ji Meng didn’t grasp. As though permission was granted, he looked back at Ji Meng. “I know what you’re trying to do—secure your position by isolating us from Zen. The fact is, though, we have an information leak. We need to stay close to Zen temporarily for a total victory both within and without. You want to purge the court; we want to purge our traitor.”
“I’m not—” Ji Meng began, before he caught himself lying. He closed his eyes and sighed. “Yes. I would see you separated from Zen; such an outcome would give me security I lack. But… if you allow me, I can help you regain the governor’s trust. I can help you pull him up by the roots.”
Argrave contemplated this silently, while Anneliese urged, “Go on.”
“Before I do, I’d like to…” Ji Meng caught himself, questioning if he was pushing the boundaries. He lifted his head boldly and said outright, “I’d like to know your plans for me.”
The silence following felt like a harsh sentence, but after a time Argrave put his elbow on the table and leaned against his hand. “Once everything’s settled, you’re going to name me Commander-in-Chief of the Expeditionary Force Against the Barbarians.”
Argrave seemed amused as though he’d said a joke, but Ji Meng was uncertain of what it meant.
He began uncertainly, “I’m not sure…?”
“You’re going to give me a hereditary title of command. In effect, the title will delegate all administrative, civil, judicial, and military authority to me.” Argrave put his hand to his chest. “You’re to retain the title of emperor, and you’ll continue to be known as the son of heaven. But rather than having genuine political power, you’ll be a ceremonial figure; effectively, the head of the faith, of the Great Chu’s belief in the son of heaven. Simply put, a permanent, hereditary regency.”
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Ji Meng exhaled quietly. It was more or less what had been agreed. It was simple, elegant… and provided Argrave acted prudently, Ji Meng could continue to reign as emperor as long as his natural life. It would be infinitely easier to be the emperor that humbly confirmed rulership over the Great Chu to a military dictator than one who fought valiantly to maintain it. The title of ‘son of heaven’ would become both a protection and a binding trap. He and all his successors would maintain their position so long as they obeyed. And if they didn’t… war would consume the Great Chu, and his imperial dynasty would end.
With his mind clear and the future laid out plain, Ji Meng felt it the proper time to do something he hadn’t done in many decades. From where he kneeled, he lowered his head until it touched the ground in a kowtow. He lowered his head to people more than half a century younger than him. He didn’t expect Argrave to understand the cultural significance—perhaps in time the king would learn—but for now, the gesture was to humble himself for his new role.
“I thank you for your grace,” Ji Meng said, his mouth facing the ground.
“It’s not grace. It’s practicality,” Argrave dismissed. “Now—what were you going to say about Governor Zen?”
Ji Meng straightened his back once again. “For someone like Governor Zen… he sees weakness as opportunity. If we can couch my present position not as your newfound strength, but a weakness… it’s far easier to assume incompetence before excellence.” He held his hands out. “Of course, I’m asking for a great deal of trust.”
“Well…” Argrave scratched at his cheek. “No harm in hearing you out.”
#####
Stain, at Elenore’s behest, once again stood with Governor Zen. In wake of the terrible war, the governor had abandoned his peaceful pavilion for a fortified compound loaded with arrays of defensive weaponry designed to resist thousands of invaders. Now they stood in the heart of this fortified compound. Unlike all other times, dozens of guards lined the room as Governor Zen sat at the head of a table with several family advisors.
“We’ve killed the false emperor,” Stain conveyed just as Elenore told him, sitting at the foot of the table as the guest of honor. “Now, it’s all but assured the rest of empire will fold. Do you know what comes next for us?”
Governor Zen entwined his fingers. “The Palace of Heaven, isn’t it?”
Stain felt his blood run cold. Time and time again, the importance of this topic had been mentioned to him. In this talk, his role was to reveal the leak in their ranks by steering the conversation properly. And just alongside that… they’d plot out the siege of the Palace of Heaven, the landing point for the gods of the Qircassian Coalition.
“I was told the emperor wouldn’t be occupying places of significant importance. That he would be the spark, while Argrave would be the fire.” Governor Zen put his hand on the table—he looked ready to jump, ready to act. Stain was reminded of the many others standing nearby, and his own precarious situation. “Only, I hear that he stood at the head of armies, with his own troops by his side, with his vital force restored. Do we have different definitions of ‘spark’ in our land?”
“Did you miss the hellfire raining down?” Elenore communicated. Stain repeated her words without hesitation, having been proven time and time again things went alright if he obeyed her. “Did you forget that we’re meeting in a fortified compound rather than one of your many palatial estates? The army we’d gathered threatened to break when they spared the south of any assault. Our legitimacy was at rock-bottom.”
Zen listened with icy calm. “What are you trying to convey to me?”
“We had to give the emperor command. It was the only way to prevent the whole scheme from collapsing,” Stain said. “You made it amply clear that you’d been plotting to overthrow him for some time. Has that changed, with what’s going on? Is your family less able to overthrow him?”
“Are you telling me that you lost control of the emperor?” Zen asked, voice quiet enough it was nearly drowned out by the winds outside.
Stain waited for word from Elenore. When it came, she first gave a warning. “Stain. He might attack you after this. You’ll be fine, because you’re watched. So, repeat after me…”
Stain, heart pumping, repeated her next words verbatim. “The emperor gathered his honor guard and what remained of the palace guard and headed for the capital, Ji. He already hinted to the army that he was considering revoking the title of Grand Commandant and reassuming command. But right now, he needs justification—we did fight for him, after all. Even his own countrymen would hesitate to deem us traitors so quickly.”
Zen said matter-of-factly, “So, you did lose the emperor.”
The guards and advisors all watched Stain, and he tensed his body in preparation to move as fast as he ever had. Would these people be the end of him? He didn’t like the idea.
“Given this news…” Zen rubbed the armrest of his chair, and it squeaked in the silence of the room. “I’ll have to sacrifice more. And given who the fault lies on, I think it’s fair to say Argrave should pay the price. He will marry one of my family.”
Stain felt a great deal of relief. An extra wife—what red-blooded man wouldn’t want that?
Elenore’s next words made his veins freeze over. “We refuse.”
