I finished the meal offered in tribute to me and wiped my face.

“Would you like a horse, Lord?” A Servus asked me.

“No. It would slow me down.” I decided.

I set out and started running at full speed to the nearest city. It was called Collea. I pounded on my way, faster and faster, until my superior eyesight fixated on something a few miles away. I speeded faster than a horse at full gallop and soon reached it. It was a carriage on the side of the road, and I quickly figured out their problem. The old mare they had pulling it was dead, likely by disease or dehydration in the hot light of our sun Apollo.

“Hello.” I said, raising a hand in greeting as I rounded my way to the front of the carriage.

The man and his wife stared at me. That appeared to be the most common reaction to seeing an Imperator. Dead silence. I wondered how I would have behaved if I had met one of those on the Path of the Emperor when I myself had been one of the Servi. Would I have been awed by their majesty? Fearful of their strength and capabilities? Jealous of their natural authority? No, I would have been hungry. I would have seen the limits that man could reach without reaching heaven and I would have forever measured myself up against that. Pushed my way step by step of blood and sweat and tears to reach Gold just so I could reflect in a way who and what they were. I would never have stopped until I reached the peaks of my Path and my Foundation. That was just who and what I was. And now I had a new path that I would be straining to do the same, reaching performative excellence and maturation of my form and soul.

They still said nothing. I sighed.

I tried smiling, but the sight of my teeth sent them cowering. Perhaps they reminded them of the jaws of a predatory beast when they saw them.

“I can help you if you like.” I tried.

A squeak escaped the wife’s mouth.

“Get back on the carriage.” I told them and they speedily obeyed. I unhitched the dead mare from the carriage and grabbed the leather straps and faced forward. I took a step and then another, dragging the carriage after to me. I doubled my pace and then tripled it and the husband swore dirtily.

“Skyfather’s thrusting cock! Hearthsister’s virgin tits-“ He cried out.

I moved faster and faster, making up lost time. There was no point in talking to them with the wind rushing past so quickly and them still so cowed in my presence, so I thought instead of details I had been taught but rarely reflected on. The Paths. I hadn’t needed to remember much of the others because in my lifetime as a Servus in Illivea I had never expected to come across anyone who wasn’t also on the Path of the Slave but there were others. Other genelines that wielded powers and strengths and esoteric knowledge far beyond the reckoning of the Servi.

There were Twelve Paths for twelve prime divinities above. Those who resided in the heavens on the Mountain. Those Twelve Paths were the result of ancient Unpathed humanity being blessed by the gods in heaven to carry within them the seeds of divinity forevermore.

First were the Imperators, those on the Path of the Emperor. They were violet eyed and silver haired and the most superior in spirit and mind and body.

Second were the Campeadors, those on the Path of the Champion. They were said to be hulking monsters, glorious and terrible.

Third were the Militares, those on the Path of the Soldier. They were dogged and reliable warriors, foot soldiers in the Dominium’s frequent civil wars.

Fourth were the Deliri, the Path of the Berserker. They were supposedly ruddy faced with bulging purple veins and wild eyes. They drank and fought with wild abandon. Hedonists to the end.

Fifth were the Servi, the Path of the Slave. We were- they were, rather, humble workers who could labor tirelessly.

Sixth were the Hetairas, those on the Path of the Whore. They had blond hair as a whole species, pink eyes, and cat’s tails.

Seventh were the Fabers, those on the Path of the Artisan. They were the Dominium’s artists, engineers, architects, visionaries, and creative types.

Eight were the Venators, those on the Path of the Hunter. Bounty hunters and assassins and pirates. Chosen of the Argent Archer.

Ninth were the Medici, those on the Path of the Doctor. Medical surgeons and nurses and general practitioners of the highest order. Servi on a outer, minor world like Lavinius would never hope to see one or feel their expert touch.

Tenth were the Magisters, those on the Path of the Scholar. Teachers and researchers and historians and archaeologists and philosophers.

Eleventh were the Navitae, those on the Path of the Sailor. They flew the sea, air, and spacecraft in the empire with great skill and deft flight.

This tale has been unlawfully lifted from Royal Road. If you spot it on Amazon, please report it.

Twelfth were the Parentes, those on the Path of the Parent. They were the Matrons, even if half of them were male. The masculine Matrons were said to look like a woman save for their genitals. They would take care of Imperators’ children and raise them.

We arrived in Collea and I said goodbye to the mouselike couple I had assisted in making their trip both possible and far shorter than if the horse had lived. I was taken to the mayor of Collea and he insisted that I stay for a festival. He said the people needed it and the arrival of one of the Dominium’s scions was more than reasons enough. I tried to decline but he slowly battered me down with flattery and promises of giving me use of his personal car to travel to the capital when he learned that was my goal.

The festival got into full swing as the sun began to set and drinks were drunk with merriment and abandon. They tried to draw me into dancing, but I refused. I thought I would look silly, looming over them with only my waist wrapped towel. Besides, I had very little idea of how to properly dance. This body would probably assist me enough that it didn’t matter, but I still didn’t feel overly inclined to test it out.

Collea was more advanced than my home city of Illivea, it had electric lights instead of torches and candles, motorbikes instead of horses, clean water pumps and stations rather than well water. There were red brick buildings rather than primitive clay and straw blocks and glass windows instead of open air windows. Illivea was a backwater, with the only advanced technology like the wormwires and the power picks and exoskeletons reserved for necessary work like the mines or the fields.

Bang!

Bang!

Bang! Bang! Bang!

Bang!

Gunshots had gone off. I pinpointed them with my preternatural hearing. The southwest side of the city.

“Gang activity.” The mayor muttered. “Great One, my sincerest apologies. This has become disastrously common-“

I was already gone, leaping onto a rooftop, and then running across the tops of buildings. This would be much faster than trying to weave my massive body through the packed streets of Servi.

I came across a vicious street fight between two cultivator gangs, one side losing badly. Everyone involved was Silver ranked. I decided to intervene on the side that had only one fighter left against the side that had six. I leaped down into the alleyway and strode forward. The winning gang quickly processed my presence and acted with impressive boldness and brazenness. They shot me with their handheld weapons. Only metal slugs fired with gunpowder, nothing too worrying for an Imperator, but the rounds still drove themselves into my skin. I twisted one out, there was no blood and the wound sealed over as soon as I pulled the round out.

No, they wouldn’t come close to killing me, but that didn’t mean that they didn’t hurt or that getting hit in, say, an eye wouldn’t be temporarily disabling.

I blurred forward and punched one’s head off and then slapped another so hard her jaw popped out of alignment and her right eye exploded outwards from the pressure. I grabbed a male Silver and brought him high into the air and then down around my knee, breaking his back. I tossed him aside.

More bullets stung me.

I smashed one’s face and then buried my left palm in his chest, pushing in his sternum. The others started running, picking up the fallen and I turned back to the lone gang member from the formerly losing side before I got here and tagged in.

“Just bloody kill me, Impy.” The Silver girl told me, clearly not expecting me to be on her side.

“Why?” I asked. She wasn’t overly injured, had maintained her safety well in a deadly fight.

“With my senior brother and junior sisters dead, the Shining Shank gang will be eaten for scraps. I’ll be dead in a few hours anyways, just get it over.” She said.

“Do you have anyone you would like to say goodbye to?” I asked, stalling.

“The Frosty Blade just killed them so no.” The Servus said.

This didn’t feel right. I had come in defense of this Shining Shank gang and this seemed less a mercy killing than abetting someone’s suicide.

“End my life.” She begged me.

I considered her. “It doesn’t have to come to that. I’m leaving and traveling to the capital to reach the space port to get off of Lavinius. You could come with me.”

The Silver studied my face, trying to see if this was some kind of game I was playing with her to be cruel.

She played with her brown hair. “Fine. I’ll go with you.”

“My name is Adrias Lucion. What is your name?” I asked her.

“Livia Velion.” She replied.

We walked back to the Mayor’s.

She gestured to my half-naked form. “What are you, an exhibitionist?”

“You people are all too short. I can’t get new clothes anywhere here.” I said.

“What happened to your original clothes?” Livia said.

“Lightning strike.” I said.

“Fine, if you don’t want to tell me.” She said with a huff.

“Little midget Servi stole all my clothes while I was bathing.” I made up as we walked. Something that had a mythological sound to it.

She laughed at that.

“Did they sing songs?” She teased, leaning into legends of dwarves.

“Off pitch and poorly rhymed.” I continued the silly story with a nod.

“Well, at least the rest of us get a bit of a show.” She said, leering.

“Don’t be lewd.” I laughed. “Maybe I’m not an exhibitionist and you’re just prudes. No need to sexualize the natural human form.”

“Impies are the natural human form?” Livia asked.

“I suppose not. You get my point.” I said.

She rubbed her knuckles against my abs. “Like a washboard.”

“Shove off.” I smiled, pushing her lightly, keeping mind not to lose control of my strength and accidently shove her over. Not that a Silver would be overly inconvenienced, but I didn’t want to be rude with my new frie- servant, my new servant.

We ended up taking the mayor’s car with a servant coming with us to drive it back to the mayor when we reached the capital. I tried to get in, but it was too small for me to fit to press the pedals and I had no idea how to manipulate the gear system. While the mayor’s servant was content to keep his mouth shut as I struggled to make it work, Livia got annoyed with me.

“Out.” She commanded.

“Out?” I said, looking at her like she was insane. Who was a Servus to order around an Imperator?

“Out, big boy. You’re not going to make it work.” Livia said. “Have you ever even driven your own car before or just had it driven for you?”

I got out. “How will me going in the passenger seat work any better? I won’t fit any better than in driver’s seat.”

She got in the driver’s seat and moved the chair forward.

“Junias will sit up front with me.” Livia said. “You can lay across the whole of the back, Impy.”

I got into the back and laid down. My feet hanging out one side and my head the other.

Livia started the car, and we began our journey towards the capital, rations and supplies in the trunk of the mayor’s car.