Oakwood Town. Isilda Continent.

Sitting underneath a crystal-framed pergola was a handsome-looking middle-aged man sipping on tea and gazing with interest at the ongoing war between two ant hills.

“Your hill looks to be winning, Azazel. Care to join me in my bet?” asked the man to the tall, robed servant who stood beside him.

Azazel indifferently gazed at the two warring ant groups and replied, “I will refuse, master.”

“Tch,” the man clicked his tongue. “Ever the killjoy. Can’t you be a little interesting?”

“I apologize, master,” answered the servant.

Just then, the shadow underneath the pergola stretched and formed a shape. A human silhouette formed and a robed shadow appeared kneeling behind the handsome middle-aged man.

“An urgent message was sent from the Hielands, master,” said the newcomer.

Taking another sip of his tea, the middle-aged man continued to watch the warring ants and casually asked, “What? Did those stupid creatures break the agreement?”

“No, master. The information is regarding your disciple Wuzhi.” The instant he said that the shadow noticed a tea cup flying towards him. And although he could’ve dodged the attack, the shadow obediently stayed still and allowed the cup to crash against his head. The ceramic broke and the shadow was drenched in fantastic-smelling tea.

“How many times have I told you people to not call him my disciple!?” the middle-aged man fumed. He then took a few deep breaths to calm down and asked, “What did that devil spawn do now?”

“Wuzhi had another ‘episode,’” replied the shadow.

The middle-aged man quietened. A few moments later, he donned a solemn expression and seriously asked, “What happened?”

“He entered the Hielands alongside the little emperor, Alexandros Centinni the Twelfth, to broker a deal with the Hielanders. Partway through their journey, their carriage was attacked by the forces of the Iron Rhino Tribe. The boy emperor was rescued by the Mountain King’s right-hand man while Wuzhi was taken back to the Iron Rhino Tribe.”

The middle-aged man frowned. “Skip to the point.”

“He was imprisoned,” answered the shadow.

“Ah,” tutted the middle-aged man. “So, that’s why.”

He then turned to his other servant, Azazel, and asked, “When did he have his last episode?”

“Six years, four months, and twelve days ago.” Without waiting for his master to ask, he continued, “He nearly burnt down the underground library.”

The middle-aged man felt a headache approach. He rubbed his forehead and ordered, “Continue. What did he do this time?”

“He burnt the Iron Rhino Tribe and all of its tribesmen,” replied the shadow. He then reached into his robes and recovered a sealed document which he then handed over to the middle-aged man.

Receiving the document, the middle-aged man tore open the seal and poured out his contents. A stack of photographs, captured using the latest camera that was recently developed in a secret lab in the Central Commonwealth, fell out; it detailed the scene where the event had taken place.

As he went through the photographs, the middle-aged man’s face went through a variety of expressions. “Oh, Good God.”

He then handed the stack to Azazel for his perusal. The servant also thumbed through the photos before delivering his comment. “Ghastly.” He then returned the photographs to his master.

“Say,” said the middle-aged man, a ponderous expression appearing on his face, “didn’t I once say that the boy wasn’t right in his head.”

“You did, master,” replied Azazel.

“Well, I’ll say it again. He is sick! Look at this!” He pointed at one of the photographs. “A mother and a child; both speared through with the same wooden stake and then set on fire! Who does stuff like this!?”

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“We do, master,” said Azazel.

The middle-aged man rolled his eyes and replied, “Crucifixion is different. It’s got history. It’s got heart to it. This,” he gestured at the photograph once again, “is barbaric.”

Azazel remained quiet for a moment. He then said, “You are right, master.”

“Of course, I am.” The middle-aged man threw the photographs onto the nearby table. “Tell you what; the boy ain’t right. He ain’t right at all!”

Azazel nodded his head. He then handed over the teacup that he had prepared in the meanwhile to the master. The middle-aged man took a sip from the freshly prepared tea and asked. “Did he at least clean up properly after himself?”

The shadow nodded his head. He then paused for a moment and reported. “The Mountain King and the boy emperor arrived at the scene before the clean-up had finished.”

“Of course, they did,” the middle-aged man sarcastically chortled. “So, he was caught red-handed. Did the bastard get himself killed?”

Shaking his head, the shadow answered. “It was reported that a sudden lightning bolt struck the Mountain King when she was about to deliver the killing blow. The Mountain King was incapacitated and the extent of her injury is unclear.”

The middle-aged man wordlessly turned towards Azazel.

“It was not us. The Observers have been instructed only to report, not engage with the boy,” answered Azazel. He then shrugged and suggested, “Perhaps, it was the will of the heavens.”

“Will of the heavens, my ass,” cursed the middle-aged man. “If it really did exist and cared so much, I wouldn’t be here.”

He then turned to the shadow and instructed. “Whatever he does, it’s his responsibility. We shall play no part in his affairs. If he dies, so be it. Tell the others to stick to my previous orders.”

“Understood, master,” said the shadow. He then disappeared just as mysteriously as he had arrived.

The middle-aged man frowned once again and put down his teacup. He then furiously rubbed his forehead and said, “Great. And now I have a headache.”

“Would you like to retire for the day, master?” asked Azazel.

“And do what? Sleep? It’s mid-day! If I sleep now, I’ll be up all night later.” He then shook his head and leaned back on his chair. “Might as well do some work now. You can start reading the reports.”

Azazel refilled the teacup and began speaking his reports.

“Preparations for the Paths Symposium have been continuing without incidents. Yesterday, invitations were sent to all top practitioners, officials, and bureaucrats. Master was also sent an invitation.”

“Reject it. The last thing that I want to do is see those old cockroaches.”

“A copy of Mr. Grunde’s latest research paper has been secured. It was sent to the R&D Department to study and begin development.”

“This is the one that’s being called Star-worthy and whatnot, correct? Never mind, you don’t have to answer that. I’ve remembered. Instruct the scribes to Increase the priority level by one.”

“The Intelligence and Counterintelligence Department has lost contact with another batch of agents sent to the North. We believe that the agents have been eliminated. We require your input.”

“Continue sending agents. I cannot rest easy knowing that I have no eyes in the North. Besides, I have a feeling that the shameless guy is doing something important up there. I need to know what that something is."

“It is rumoured that a terrible illness has befallen Sovereign Mu Wudi.”

“That’s no rumour; I can promise you that the devil spawn had a hand at it. Instruct the operatives in the North Aislu Continent to blanket these rumours. I don’t want this information spreading just yet.”

“The Central Commonwealth, the Heavenly Spirit Empire, and the Mu Household had issued a joint order banning the travel of unregistered and private vessels across the seven seas.”

“A few new machines in hand and they already want to rule the world. Ha, how laughable! Incite both sides and add fuel to this fire, I want to see this burning by the end of next year. That should be fun to watch.”

“The Black Moon Trading Company has recently made a few dealings in the dark…”

The exchange continued for quite some time. It was only when evening approached that the exchanges stopped.

The handsome middle-aged man lazily sat and blankly stared at the remnants left behind by the ant war. After a while, the middle-aged man suddenly asked. “He did that mind-f*ckery thing, didn’t he?”

Azazel nodded his head and replied, “I do not see how else he could have dealt with the witnesses. Our intelligence does clearly state that the boy emperor is a crucial component for his plans; whatever they are.”

“This is the first time that he’s used that technique of his outside of this town; outside of my supervision.”

“Our people were watching him, master.”

“My direct supervision,” rebutted the middle-aged man. His eyes continued to stare blankly as he followed. “Start a behavioural analysis on him. I want to know just how much damage was done to his psyche. I refuse to believe that he came out unscathed after killing three Rank 7s, a dozen Rank 6s, and a few dozen Rank5s and the like.”

“I shall convey your orders.”

“Don’t let him know though! The last thing I want is for that wh*reson to believe that he’s got a one-up on me. I will not let him have the satisfaction.”

“Understood, master,” obeyed the servant.

The middle-aged man then slapped the arms of his chair and stood up. “Well, I’m bored now. Let’s go watch a movie or something.” He turned around and headed toward his mansion.

Azazel’s body quietly flickered before melting away and fusing with the middle-aged man’s shadow; forever ready to protect and serve his master.