“May I ask why you want the Emperor, arguably the most powerful man in the Nihono Empire, to die?” Jin raised an eyebrow, eyeing down the child before him.

He’d never actually seen or interacted with the Emperor Jimmu. Though, he did hear plenty of rumors about the man. It was said that he was the strongest Cultivator in the eastern kingdoms, capable of punching apart mountains and splitting seas. There were other rumors that said he bore the blood of an ancient goddess, making him partly divine, but that particular gossip was likely just a load of rubbish; there were no active gods in this world. But Jin never really had much interest in the Emperor if he was being honest.

Eventually, he figured, he would cross paths with the man in some way, shape, or form, but it hadn’t been on his list of the most important or interesting things.

And so, Jin looked into the child’s head and saw… bloodshed – a family of impoverished nobles, living the fringes of the Nihono Empire, a quiet little village. A man and a woman, both swearing to never speak of their past; they were a part of a failed coup, initiated by a faction of aristocrats who’d grown weary of Emperor Jimmu’s rule. The rest of their members had been arrested, relentlessly tortured and mercilessly interrogated, before they were hanged by their hands and left to rot in the sun. The couple somehow evaded the guards, evaded capture, and fled to the more remote provinces of the empire. There, they lived out their days, former nobles. They had a daughter, the little miscreant before him.

The child grew up never knowing her heritage.

At the age of 6, the little girl displayed magical talents and was promptly found by a cabal of mages. She was inducted into their ranks with some… dubious parental consent. She spent the next five years training and learning, before she escaped and ran back to her childhood home. She found her parents dead, tortured, beaten and skinned alive; a document, stamped with the Emperor’s personal seal, spoke of their involvement in the coup that occurred several years ago.

One thing led to another and now she was here.

Toriyama Kaede was the child’s name, a kid whose soul was more or less already consumed by vengeance, rage, and hatred. If she was an adult, she would’ve made for a fantastic meal. Sadly, Jin did not eat children.

They didn’t taste good.

“He ordered the deaths of my parents,” She answered, eyes burning with the purest hate. “I want him to pay for what he’s done!”

Jin grinned.

This was going to be so fun. “And what did you think to offer me, in exchange for such a… monumental task?”

It wasn’t. Not really. No matter how strong a Cultivator could get, they were still very much mortal, despite their claims of having attained immortality. They were, at the end of the day, just very long-lived humans whose heads got a little too big due to possessing superior physical strength and abilities.

Kaede’s eyes widened.

Did she think the lone skull that contained the barest traces of a soul would be enough to satisfy him?

No, of course not; the child might’ve been full of anger and hatred and vengeance, but she wasn’t dumb – hopefully.

“I….” She began, face twisting into a cacophony of emotions, most of them negative, before she breathed in and sighed. “I will offer you my soul, in return.”

Jin shook his head and spoke flatly. “No. I don’t want your soul; offer me something better.”

Kaede couldn’t offer him anything better, really. She had nothing. She was nothing – a runaway apprentice mage, who thought to return home only to find that she’d lost everything dear to her. A sad tale, that, but an uncommon one; the child’s audacity to enact the Ritual of the Crossroads, however, was most definitely uncommon, which meant she might just be useful in the future – a living asset that was not a demon or a monster. After all, sooner or later, Jin would have a need for mortals to do his bidding; what better resource than a Mage?

Of course, he would need to actively invest in her, ensure that she grows strong and powerful. Jin had no use for a weak servant, otherwise.

The child sighed, her shoulders sagging. “My soul is all that I can offer. I have nothing else to give.”

“Very well,” Jin nodded. “Offer your eternal service to me, child. I will not devour your soul, no; but you shall become my servant, an extension of my will. You will do my bidding and perform any task I give you. Of course, I won’t call on you for anything just yet, seeing as how you’re far from your true potential.”

Kaede nodded grimly. And yet, her eyes were as hard as steel, burning with conviction. She truly was prepared to sacrifice everything for vengeance. Jin grinned as the child lowered herself to the floor and prostrated, “I will become your servant. All that I am and all that I have is yours. In exchange, I just want you kill the Emperor.”

This narrative has been purloined without the author's approval. Report any appearances on Amazon.

“Very well,” Jin snapped his fingers and grinned. “A bargain has been struck.”

Of course, to become his tool, she would need an advantage that set her far above her peers. Kaede needed power. Jin had plenty of abilities to offer her, now especially given the number of souls in his collection. Still, for a dark and vengeful child, Jin had something extra special in mind that would suit her perfectly.

Soul-Drain, an ability never before seen in this world; the very idea of it would’ve sent even the most powerful cultivators and mages running for the hills in terror. After all, one could train the mind and the body for centuries, but the soul was ultimately the most vulnerable aspect of a mortal. Then again, it was just as likely that the very idea of having one’s soul torn from their physical shells would not register to most people.

It was the perfect ability for her! She drains the souls of people and, once a year or so, Jin comes around to collect his due – a tribute to add to his collection, while Kaede keeps the rest.

Yes, Soul-Drain it is….

Obviously, the best person to wield such an awesome ability was an angry child.

Said child grimaced and whimpered as a dark symbol burned itself onto her forehead, an eight-pointed star, wreathed in flame; vortexes of power swirled at every edge. Jin pushed deeper, branding Kaede’s very soul. It bled for a moment, a thin stream of crimson vitae dripping from the symbol and down her face. And then, she screamed and writhed as the same symbol reappeared elsewhere, scorching and burning on the palms of her hands, bleeding all the while. But, the pain that coursed through her was not physical; indeed, it was her spirit, crying out in torment as the tiniest fragments of Jin’s infinite being merged with her.

In time, Toriyama Kaede would become one of the most powerful beings on the planet.

“Those brands symbolize our pact,” Jin said. The child before him was barely conscious, her mind having drifted back due to the pain that coursed through her. It would, of course, recede and disappear in a few hours. For now, she would have to suffer the agony of the brand. She would survive, of course. The child was remarkably strong and driven – mostly due to spite and anger, but those two emotions worked just as well as any other.

“Use it to steal the souls of your enemies; rip their corporeal selves from their bodies,” Jin grinned, briefly picturing an image of a much older Kaede in his mind, surrounded by the corpses of her enemies, wreaking havoc and death, and bringing great suffering wherever she went. This child was definitely a good investment. “On this day, every single year, I will come to take half of all the souls that you have. Goodbye, Kaede, for now.”

Their pact was sealed.

A fragment of infinity and eternity now lingered within the child - a very small fragment at that, but a fragment nonetheless.

With that, Jin stepped back, folding out of reality, before stepping back out where he’d left Lok, the Demon General who still very much asleep on the ground near the cart.

Why did Old Man Gaunter assign a sloth demon to him, again?

An actual mule might’ve been better, instead.

And why a Demon General of all things?

Sighing, Jin walked up to the mule and kicked dirt into its face. Startled, Lok’s eyes snapped open, revealing endless pits of fire and darkness, before reverting back into the bestial eyes of dumb animal. The Demon General locked eyes with Jin for brief moment that seemed to stretch on for eternity, before speaking in the most ancient of demonic tongues, “What?”

Reality shuddered. The only thing that kept it from ripping apart entirely was the fact that Lok only spoke a single word. Jin scowled. “Never speak in the Black Tongue again, Lok; you’re lucky I still haven’t incinerated you for that, you fucking snail.”

The Demon General stood up and locked eyes with Jin.

Reality bent around them.

Time and space lost all meaning for all but a single instance.

And then, Lok sighed and neighed. And lowered his head in defeat and subservience.

He might've been a Demon General, a great and terrible power even among demons.

But Jin was still far above him.

“I know you’re a sloth demon,” Jin began, running his right hand across his face. Dealing with Lok was both frustrating and predictable. The piece of shit was a sloth demon; Jin could trust him to always find the easiest possible solution to anything; though, more likely than not, Lok simply would not bother with a solution at all and just sleep; not that Jin had ever needed a solution from Lok, but it was the thought that counted. “But do you really have to be?”

Lok did the mule equivalent of a shrug.

“Whatever the case,” Alastair decided to move on before one of them ends up shattering the dimensional barriers and letting loose a bunch of paradoxes and cosmic horrors. “I’ve accepted a Crossroads Contract; some kid wants me to kill the Emperor. I have… invested something into her future. So, we shall be keeping an eye on her.”

Lok snorted and nodded.

“Right,” Jin walked up and into the cart, where he sat on the driver’s seat, just behind Lok’s mule form. “Onwards to the capital, then; we’ve got an Emperor to kill.”

Lok neighed and slowly began trotting forward. The cart moved. And Jin briefly considered simply riding a dimensional string to the capital city, before deciding against it.

He wasn't in a hurry - he never was. Time as the one resource he would never run out of.

The journey was just as important and as fulfilling as the destination, after all.

The capital of the Nihono Empire, Heijo-Kyo, was nowhere close to where they were at the moment, near the very fringes of the Empire's borders. They were closer to the open frontiers than they were to any town or village, which was why the roads were less than stellar and the rivers were teeming with fishes - many of the little bastards were too smart to be caught. The journey to Heijo-Kyo would take a little over a week if Lok was any faster than he usually was, but maybe two weeks, since neither of them were in any particular hurry. After all, Kaede never specified when she wanted the Emperor to die - or how for that matter.

Pushing the man off from a high tower was unlikely to work, unfortunately. And poisoning his drinks wouldn't work, either.

Most methods that would be used to kill Cultivators wouldn't work against the Emperor.

He was too powerful - for a Cultivator, that is.

Jin grinned. This would've been far more fun if he had Future-Sight in his arsenal of powers, but - alas - he wouldn't be unlocking that one until he had at least fifteen souls in his collection; he already had thirteen, however, so it wasn't too far off.

Still, it would be fun, of course.

He was about to orchestrate the downfall of the strongest mortal in the entire country, after all.