Whispers echoed throughout the throne Room as Ordo Bergott spoke those words.

It was to be expected, given the gravity of the situation, on several levels.

Zuken was surprised. He hadn’t thought Ordo was willing to expose himself to this degree.

An ifrit was a creature of misfortune. Of betrayal. Its name was an adjective for a catastrophic herald. And at the same time, it was a totem of independence, strength, and power.

An ifrit was, in the wrong hands, dangerous.

Even if they were kami themselves, ifrits were a cut above the rest given their natural ability to wield the Spirit Element, or as Asukan treatises described it— the element of Heaven. It combined itself with any of the other four elements in order to actualize a facsimile of true creation. Although amorphous and incapable of materializing in its own power, it was what allowed shapeless things to take a material form.

And being a first-hand witness of Lukas’s kami in action, Zuken knew very well how utterly terrifying an ifrit could be.

Ordo Bergott would probably get some flak for not reporting this earlier, but they weren’t officially required to do so in the first place. Just a third party with sufficient resources and standing. The punishments, if any, would be relatively minor.

He, on the other hand, was a member of the Holy Eight. Lord Naowa was another, apart from being in charge of Haviskali.

Zuken frowned, looking at Ordo as if for the first time. The man wasn’t trying to harm him through this. Oh no, this was a smear campaign. One that he was using to counter the promise Zuken had exacted out of him. Ordo Bergott was supposed to stand by him when he petitioned for Iylaerion’s expansion beyond the borders of the Llaisy Kingdom, courtesy of the lost bet made over the tournament. But Zuken could not force him to do so if the Emperor himself was upset with him before such an outrageous plea was made in the first place. Besides, Lukas was the moderator that held Iylaerion’s contract with the svartalf territory. If Lukas himself was detained by the Empire, then the contract would be rendered void, and the backlash from that alone would trigger a massive business breakdown for Iylarion.

In one sweeping move, Ordo Bergott would have accomplished everything.

“Zuken…” Judging from Naowa’s tone, he was not happy with the way things were turning out.

Zuken gave him a slow nod. They needed to wait. He needed to know exactly where this was heading to.

He wasn’t exactly thrilled with the turn of events either.

“An ifrit-tamer,” The Emperor repeated as if tasting how the word felt on his lips, “And would this ifrit be the same kami that defended the Wind King’s Wrath?”

“No, your majesty,” said the Shogun, “this is the kami that faced the Wind King’s Wrath and won.”

“That’s true,” replied one of the silver-adorned guards that stood closest to the Emperor. “Both the kami were seen dissipating together, so the battle was presumed to a draw by most, though the adventurer facing the Wind King’s heir fell after she did.”

“Interesting,” The Emperor cupped his chin, “And who is this nomad?”

“Lukas Aguilar,” Zuken supplied, looking utterly unfazed by the whispers around, “He’s a nomad traveler from Maluscion, whom I hired for some personal projects across the Empire. You know how problematic it can get in the Fringes from time to time.”

The Emperor’s lips coiled in distaste. “A mercenary then.”

“One with a sense of professional integrity.”

He snorted out loud. “Those are real?”

“This one stays bought. And he’s on very good terms with the Wind King’s heir.”

“Interesting….” The Emperor mused, gazing at Zuken imperiously. “You must have a lot of confidence in this… mercenary.”

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“Enough that I bet on Iylaerion’s future against Lord Bergott. I sure wouldn’t have Ordo Bergott supporting me in my request regarding Iylaerion’s future otherwise.”

There, see how you like it.

“He-uh—” The man blabbered, “He’s just joking, your majesty.”

“No, I’m not,” Zuken replied with a smile. “Though I can’t help but be disappointed at such lame power plays in your court.”

“Disappointed?”

Zuken waved his hand lazily. “Your Majesty, it is no secret that my founding of Iylaerion does not portray the traditional Asukan theme. But I’m not a preacher, nor a priest. I have never once sought the affections of the Divine nor genuflected in hopes for Blessings from the Great Goddess. I wear my Family’s Coat of Arms proudly and stand true to our Family history of being Arbiters. Those that play on both fields.”

“Both fields?” The Emperor demanded, “I did not know there were more than one.”

Zuken smiled. So that was how this was going to be.

What the Empire preached and what the Empire practiced were two different things. On the surface, the Empire welcomed all species. But the harsh truth was, that the Empire’s arms were only open for the worshippers of the Asukan Pantheon, and those that fitted into its ideology of Right and Wrong. Anyone with a different thought process was either relocated to the Fringes or treated like second-class citizens. And even among the worshippers, there was a clear difference between those that were Asukan and those that weren’t.

But that wasn’t something one could not call out aloud like that. Not if they wanted to die in the most horrible way imaginable.

Zuken smiled. Two could play this game.

“The Great Goddess shines over the entire world, your Majesty. But not everyone is fortunate enough to bask in it. My little project aims to undo that blemish.”

“Are you saying that our Shrines are slacking?”

Zuken smiled. “Not at all, your Majesty. The Shrines impart the knowledge of the Asukan race, its ideals, its traditions, its customs, and blessings to everyone that comes to it with an open mind. But there are those who, despite their skill, belong to different species and thus, do not conform with Asukan beliefs, and are thus, relocated to the Fringes. This is what is causing a growing disparity between Asukans and other races. My Iylaerion wishes to bridge that gap.”

That got his attention.

This time Zuken almost locked eyes with the Emperor. Almost.

“The heartstone of Asukan Philosophy is control. Control over the land. Control over the elements. Control over faith. Maybe I’m wrong, but I believe there’s but one way to really control someone.”

“And what is that?” The Emperor asked, his voice a low purr.

“To give them what they want. Give them what they need. Give them what no one else can give. If I can do that, then they’ll come to me again and again. We all know the strenuous relationship between the Empire and the svartalfar keeps. But with some well-intended strokes, I can now boast of a permanent job contract with the Keep in Haviskali. If your Majesty can grant Iylaerion a global permit, then I can replicate this formula over and over again.”

“And it will not hinder the Adventurer’s Guild?”

“I cannot say for certain that it wouldn’t affect the Guild. But having a complete monopoly over Jobs has made them sloppy. Perhaps a little competition would do them good?”

The Emperor’s lips sunk into a smile. “You make some very convincing claims, Zuken of Banksi. But not all nations under my banner will share your approach or your vision. I cannot, in good faith, allow an endeavor to progress that might lead to antagonism between states.”

He was talking about the Eaborid Kingdom, and the civil war in Karnegrug that was threatening to spill over. One of the reasons the wars between kingdoms were at an absolute minimum was because the economy was handled by the main Empire. Even though each nation ran independent of the other, there was no doubt that the Kings themselves all answered to the Emperor without fail.

As he said, it was all about control.

“But,” The Emperor went on, “There are certain matters that have attracted my attention. Matters that might or might not have something to do with the strange energy signatures emitted within and near Haviskali. Matters that cannot be left to the bureaucracy and require a more… personal and swift touch. If your little project can take care of that, and perhaps I’d be willing to sit with the Kings and debate about the future of this… endeavor.”

Might. Might not. Perhaps. Maybe. There were too many waffle words. And yet, it was probably the most optimistic scenario he could hope for.

Besides, now that he thought about it, there was indeed something strange going on with Lukas. His sudden appearance through the Banksi Well of Kami. Him mentioning Aerie. The strange energies emanating out of him. The thunder and lightning—

Yeah. Lukas Aguilar was going to give him gray hairs soon.

“So,” asked the Emperor, “Do we have an accord?”

Zuken frowned. Fulfill a task set by the Emperor that he thought couldn’t be sorted by Kings. Probably involving Lukas Aguilar in the process. Again. And then debate Iylaerion’s future with said Kings who’d want nothing better than to erase him from existence for making them look incompetent.

And still, He thought wryly, Not the worst situation I’ve found myself in.