The dreaded day had finally arrived. The day when the fate of the Shimizu would be decided in front of the entire Shogun Court. A series of events that had snowballed from that very moment Ultaf had arrived at the Peak, with news of the Creature not just alive, but bonded with his father’s kami, Ezzeron.
And the worst part? Mujin knew he was walking into a trap. Despite that, he stepped through the front door of the Shogun’s mansion.
He loathed admitting it, but the Earth King had pretty much saved his ass in front of the Emperor. Despite the overwhelming evidence against him and his clan, the Earth-King had convinced the Emperor to give him a forty-five day grace period to tie his loose ends. Trestan Banksi had offered his own services for the position of Judge for the upcoming Shogun’s Court, but it was strikingly obvious that the Emperor had seen his ploy. After all, It was tough for the Prosecution to prove their point when the judge himself was on the side of the accused.
No wonder the Emperor himself had added the extra clause — prove Zuken Banksi’s transgressions, and provide enough evidence that the girl — his so-called granddaughter existed, and that she had a strong compatibility with Ezzeron and had enough potential to even be a future claimant for the Wind King’s position. If not, the Shimizu’s status as one of the Sacred Eight would be put on probation.
And Trestan himself would have to be the one to sign the Shimizu’s death warrant.
Well, thought Mujin glumly. It’s not like that matters anymore. Not after the brat gave Naowa yet another dagger to impale me with.
It felt like his grandson was shooting himself in the foot whenever he looked away. As if assaulting Lord Naowa’s Wetworks man and destroying his mansion wasn’t enough, Ultaf had attacked the Zwaray Keep, home of the svartalfars and wiped the race out of existence. If there were still any left in the fringes, they were already underground.
Literally.
There weren’t enough words in the six languages he spoke that could describe the sheer idiocy and irresponsibility behind those actions. Ultaf’s response — Tanya was stranded inside the borderland, and the svartalfars weren’t bowing down and accepting every word that left his mouth as gospel.
He should’ve known better than to hand over control over his army to Ultaf. The brat had spent too many years playing Lord in Cyffnar to understand what real power meant. Despite his attempts to shape the brat into a worthy heir, all his attempts had ended up in dismal failure. Ultaf had grown into his twisted facsimile, hung on Mujin’s own power, wealth and status as a Warlord. Worse, he already acted as if that power was already his. His spies had confirmed that.
If not for the fact that Ultaf was his sole remaining heir, and that he was too old and too attuned to his element to even consider procreation, he would have slaughtered the bastard on the spot. Really, there were moments when his mind wandered over the possibility of raising that creature as his heiress instead. Despite the taint, she definitely had his cunning, his pragmatism and his penchant for violence. She had escaped their attempts to capture her for all these years, and the fact that she wielded Ezzeron only proved the potency of Asukan blood within her. Truly, imprisoning and torturing her back then was proving to be a most costly mistake.
A mistake he could not correct any longer. Even as a child, she was oddly resistant to the Initiation. An effect of her yokai heritage, no doubt.
Hearing a guard addressing him brought him out of his musings.
“Lord Shimizu?” said the guard. “You’re expected in the Great Hall.”
Of course I am.
Maintaining his aura of quiet dignity, Mujin walked into the Hall, and found himself facing a familiar audience. The entire Shogun Court — all thirteen members, were present there. Naowa had pulled his punches to get the entire set to witness the Shimizu’s denigration.
Mujin’s friendship with the Earth-King was no secret. But there was a difference in standing in support of his friend from a position of strength, and when facing the might of the entire South-Easten council. None of the shoguns were worth Trestan’s fingernails in power or potential, but demonstrating bias in front of their collective political presence was something not even the Earth-King would dare to do lightly.
Especially because the Emperor and the other Kings would then hear about it.
Silently, he walked over to his right, and took the empty seat next to Lady Akiha Troyl, the least politically powerful person in the room, and one of the most dangerous. Maluscion was one of the smallest nations in the Empire, a coastal territory with one of the highest crime rates ever. Smugglers, abductors, thieves, spies, deviants, other species — Maluscion was a hub of everything that the Empire officially looked down upon. Quite naturally, it was also the place that most influential people reached out to, whenever they needed something done under the table. Officially, Maluscion government was known to be one of the weakest, but Mujin had a sneaky suspicion that the illegal hub was actually a parallel government run directly by Lady Troyl herself.
“Lord Mujin,” courtsyed Lady Akiha as their eyes met. “Looks like the start of a bad day. Lord Straff looks especially excited.”
“Of course he does!” grumbled Mujin. “That dog probably thinks this is his ticket to being one of the Eight.”
“I think he’ll be happy with the Shimizu’s fate just as well,” said the woman. “Then no one will challenge his dominion in the kingdom.”
“Yes, he’ll turn it into a wasteland. Useless waste of sperm that one is.”
“Are you not worried?”
“Should I be?” asked Mujin. He was on the verge of a political defeat, but he’d be damned if he showed weakness. “This is hardly the first time I’ve had to defend my throne from usurpers.”
“I hear it’s different this time around,” she murmured.
Yes. Naowa had summoned all the mice together to fend the cat. That just didn’t happen. When the cat came out to play, the mouse would run amok.
It was a rule of nature.
“I spoke with the others,” said Lady Akiha. “Lord Naowa was furious when the Earth-King demonstrated indifference against his son.”
“Indifference?” grunted Mujin. “He ordered me to send the brat back to Naowa.”
“Only because of the precedent it would set otherwise,” the woman countered. “I have not worked with the young man before, but I have heard his name thrown around. Very skilled and connected in micromanaging under-the-table deals, yes?”
His scowl deepened. As much as he disliked it, the woman spoke the truth. Zuken Banksi was practically a mini-Maluscion. An individual power-broker unconnected with any of the major powers that had risen to become the invisible left-hand of Shogun Naowa.
“Then he should’ve known better than to breach a contract made with the acting-Lord of Shimizu.”
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Not that it made any difference.
“I’ve been wondering…” murmured the woman, “Just what is it that happened between your clan and your heiress? Surely she has a reason for hiding from her own heritage at this point?”
“As I said before the court, there are certain misunderstandings between us.”
“You had forty-five days to solve it. People are wondering just how complicated is this ‘misunderstanding’”, she said with animated fingers, “that the heiress and potential claimant of the Wind King’s throne would rather remain in obscurity than take her place. Many are wondering if she’s even alive, and if all this is a mad ploy to squirrel more time from the Emperor.”
His eyes flashed. “Did you just call me a liar?”
“Absolutely not,” the coquette seductress said, flapping her eyelids at him. “I only say what I hear.”
And what you think will tempt the other into reacting. Mujin scoffed and looked at the room at large. “Ligers do not concern themselves with the opinion of sheep. It is, as I said. Classified.”
The woman smiled. “Somehow, I doubt it will remain as such.”
“What do you mean?”
She gave him a cozy, knowing smile. It made him want to clench her throat and squeeze the life out of her. Then her expression transformed into a calculating, composed smile. “Lord Naowa took the Earth-King’s indifference to his Wetworks man’s life and importance as a personal insult. Whatever this Zuken Banksi must have done to gain such support, it must be significant. It’s almost disgustingly loyal.”
Mujin suppressed the urge to spit. Loyalty! Bah! Loyalty was enforced, not won through sentiment.
The woman brought her dainty-looking hands to her mouth and laughed softly. It was almost enough to fool him.
Almost.
Inwardly, he wondered why Lady Akiha was trying to cozy up with him. That woman was a scorpion.
“I believe Lady Menasse wanted something to discuss with me,” she said, and stood up, her seat instantly sinking into the floor as she walked away with a parting smile. Mujin pursed his lips, inwardly seething at… something. Something about this whole conversation felt off.
Straff could whine as much as he wanted, but the truth was his clan was just a bunch of layabout espers and middling spiritists that held enough political influence and physical resources to bind together to form a clan. Even the Bergotts of Llaisy Kingdom were far better, and the greatest they had reached was Warlord-level. Compared to that, Mujin was a standing Warlord, one at the height of his power. He might not be King-class, but he was definitely head and shoulders above any of his esteemed colleagues.
The next half an hour to forty five minutes of the meeting had been nothing but pleasantries, introductions, pandering and official rabble that in all honesty was done for show and had nothing to do with the situation in the first place. Given the identities of the guests, Mujin wondered why Naowa was taking such an elaborate and time-consuming method. Perhaps he wanted to bore him to death?
He knew he had handed over the Acting-Lordship to Ultaf for a reason. He was too old for this shit.
He gazed at the Earth King, and found the usual calm, cool indifference in them. Unsurprising, for he was the presiding judge. Still, there was something in his expression that felt… off.
His thoughts screeched down to a furious halt as Naowa stood up, and took to the central dais. “Lords and Ladies. Back at the Royal Palace forty-five days ago, the Shimizu claimed that the wanton destruction they caused in Haviskali was a rightful display of personal vengeance against the actions of Zuken Banksi, my personal advisor and confidante. I would ask Lord Mujin if he has any proof behind those wild accusations, but honestly, it’s unneeded. Ultaf Shimizu, Acting-Lord of Shimizu Clan, and perpetrator of the attack in Haviskali, has demonstrated how little he thinks of law and justice in the Empire.”
Naowa took a moment to stare at every single face in the hall.
“For those of you that do not know, I’m referring to the mass extinction of the svartalfar race in Zwaray Keep by Ultaf Shimizu and his army. Because of his thoughtless actions, the Empire is now devoid of svartalfar enchantment. Without them, the technology fueling the Wells is lost forever.”
Mujin tried very hard to ignore the looks he was getting from every single presence in the room.
When the whispers died down, Naowa spoke again. “I formally apologize, Earth-King. As per the Emperor’s decree, you were tasked to judge this trial. But this has become a matter of inter-racial relations, critical damage to my kingdom’s economy, and a significant threat to the Empire’s commerce. Such a travesty could not be blithely ignored. Hence, I had to contact the Chief Administrator of Inter-Racial matters —”
Mujin’s blood ran cold. No. Not him.
It wouldn’t end well for anyone if it did. If that man entered the picture, then —
“And he so very graciously agreed to join the judge panel. It is my great honor to host a Council meeting with him present, and I thank my ancestors for making me worthy to bask in his presence. He, whose name alone is enough for me to instantly genuflect and pay our obeisances before his might.”
He smiled and extended his arms wide and spoke in a ringing voice.
“SECOND-BORN OF THE GREAT GODDESS. BROTHER TO EMPEROR NINIGI. COMMANDER OF THE OBSIDIAN GRIP.”
Two platoons of soldiers — all of them wearing mithril-played armors walked into the room, with gold-plated fractals on each hand, and flowing crimson robes. An army of fifty individuals, their faces were covered in hoods, enchanted to allow them to see through it without disclosing their identities. Every single one of those was a Gold-class adventurer, and the most powerful private battalion in the entire Empire. They moved as one, worked as one, and fought as a singular unit, the Commander’s personal Brigade — called into action only against the strongest of enemies.
Mujin glanced in Naowa’s direction furiously, but the bastard didn’t even notice him. Instead, a small, crafty smile played on his damned face.
“DEMIGOD. FIRE-KING. WIELDER OF SUZAKU, THE MIGHTY PHOENIX.”
Easily seven-feet tall, taller than the Emperor himself, the newcomer walked into the room, with every single entity standing up and bowing in respect. This man… he didn’t ooze the lion-like charisma of his esteemed brother. No, he was like a bear — broadly proportioned shoulders, huge in size, yet something about that physique suggested inhuman agility and grace. He looked absolutely calm and relaxed, but anyone with eyes knew that in any second, he could surge in with terrible speed and purpose without the slightest warning.
His forearms were nearly the size of his biceps, and he had the kind of thick neck one usually saw in abductors and thugs. Most of his body was hidden behind a mail crafted of a metal Mujin didn’t recognize, but he could see scars all over his hands and face, all of them faded away to ancient white lines. His hair was crimson, shaggy and flowing down his nape like a mane. His eyes shone like lumps of smoldering flame, and the temperature in the room automatically shot up just with him entering it.
‘LORD JIMMO ASUKA!”finished Naowa with pride.
Every other member of the Court was busy genuflecting in the Fire King’s presence, but Mujin only had eyes for the Earth King. It was as though a switch had been triggered in him, and a wave of madness seemed to pour from his very being. Red bloodlust flooded from the man’s gaze, and something utterly malicious flickered in the otherwise composed man’s features.
The entire thing lasted for barely a fraction of a second, and then it was gone.
“An injustice has been served,” said the demigod, sharing an odd look with Trestan. “And in my Mother’s Name, I will not allow a single blemish to fall upon those laws that hold the foundation of our Empire together. Is the Accused present?”
“Lord Mujin Shimizu is here,” said Naowa. “He is representing his clan for the duration of this Council Meet, my Lord. As are sixteen shoguns of the South-East dominion.”
“Very well,” said the Fire King. “The requirements of the quorum have been met. With that, I call the Council to order.”
A cold knot formed in Mujin’s stomach.
Countering the Earth King using the Shogun Court’s political power was one thing. Using the utter lack of evidence and the wanton destruction of the svartalfars… even that he had seen coming. But to bring the Fire King into this madness and forcing Trestan Banksi to play ball like this practically screamed insult. Naowa wasn’t just flirting with insubordination, he was grabbing it round the waist and kissing it so deep that he was massaging its tonsils. Did he really think that Trestan would forgive this insult? Or was he just that arrogant that he thought that the support of the Fire King would protect him? Did he expect his own status to rise up amongst the other shoguns in the South-East because he caused the fall of Shimizu?
Did Naowa truly understand what sort of reckless game he had inadvertently started? Taking a risk like this… just for publicity?
No. That would be the actions of a fool, and Naowa, to his knowledge, was no fool.
Just what are you planning, Naowa? What do you know that I don’t?
He did not know it, but it was a question that would haunt him for days to come.
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