The rumors about the Shimizu’s massacre of the svartalfars had spread through Haviskali like wildfire. Gossip was the language of the common folk and people living ordinary lives reveled in talking about people of a higher status. Giant banners floated across the marketplace and above the floating platforms, boldly blaming the Sacred Eight Clan and accusing them of destroying Haviskali’s commercial avenue. As a town that relied on commerce for its day-to-day activities, the attack on Zwaray Keep was nothing less than disastrous to its economy, and the local populace wasn’t shying away from demonstrating their discontent.
“Uwah, his grandson is a murderer,” said one.
“He eats little kids, you know?” said another.
“I’ve heard he sent his grandson to kill the svartalfars for an evil sacrifice…”
The rumors grew more and more imaginative with every iteration. And most did not even doubt it despite the complete and utter lack of proof. But when did something so irrelevant as proof matter when it came to public opinion?
At least, those were the thoughts running through Lukas’s mind as he stared at the large banner, featuring the warlord’s face, with negative annotations printed all over it. He knew sooner or later, he would have to fight this man, and knew that even the thousands of skills he could draw upon would fall short before this maniac.
He idly wondered how much these protests would affect Mujin Shimizu’s political power. If the man was half as unforgiving as Tanya made him out to be, he’d have already killed his grandson by now.
“We’re holding a public protest calling for his imprisonment,” said someone from the street. “That clan is a curse for Haviskali. They must be punished.”
“Absolutely. Never liked him,” said Tanya to no one in particular.
Lukas rolled his eyes.
After that attempt at connecting with Zuken using Inanna’s Scrying ritual — which was really an inappropriate name for whatever long-ranged half-assed possession he had ended up doing — the group had spent the rest of the day and night picking apart whatever all of them could share about the Peak like vultures. The more they disseminated its protections and enchantments, the more likely it was that Ultaf was more correct than they wanted to believe.
The Peak was actually cocooned by an enchanted snow storm crafted by the Wind King himself, and held in place as a permanent mystery courtesy of the ley-lines in that area. The entire place was akin to a large anomaly, given how the normal rules of geography fell apart once one entered the zone. Somewhere in the middle of it, was a massive fortress atop a massive mountain, which those-in-the-know knew as the Peak.
It was just the tip of the iceberg.
The Peak, according to Tanya, could be best described as a twisted mix of several garrisons, most of which was actually hidden from the senses thanks to the innate enchantments of the area. There was technically no ‘center’ to speak of, but that didn’t mean that all its resources were evenly distributed through the individual bodies that made up the Peak. Somewhere, deep within, was a ward chamber that was directly connected to the ley lines going through the area, granting the Peak access to infinite amounts of energy to keep the enchantments and protections active and at full power forever. According to Tanya, not even a King’s most destructive attack could shatter its defenses.
If there was a way to get Zuken out without having to attack the Peak (and horribly die in the process), it was worth considering.
That was why she was accompanying Lukas to Zwaray Keep, to meet with Lord Naowa. Solana did not know why the Shogun was so concerned over a single Well, when there were thirteen more in the entire kingdom, but whatever it was, it was significant enough for the Shogun to order his terramancers to turn the destroyed svartalfar fortification into livable conditions while his men worked day and night to reconstruct and activate the Well.
It took them several hours to reach the destroyed Zwaray Keep. The last time he was there, the entire complex resembled a futuristic industrial belt, with massive, floating stone pillars fencing the inner territory from the rest of the town, while dozens of buildings, composed of the moving-block architecture, seemed to be laid down in blocks that went for miles on end, with gigantic machinery exuding bursts of steam and purplish light from various exit points.
Now? It looked like a ruin. A couple of pillars were still floating, but the ward line had been utterly destroyed. Smoke hung over the decapitated belt as if it were like a blanket. A repulsive blanket. Buildings were crumbling, and sinking to the ground, covered with massive craters and chasms, smeared with what dreadfully looked like dried blood. A demolished building next to him was still emitting smoke, and an awful stench that arose from the repugnant sight of carcasses of several unfortunate svartalfars — their features unrecognizable, and their bodies trapped under the crumbling buildings.
He felt Tanya fall to her knees. “This… this is madness. Why would anyone…”
Lukas would have said something, but his eyes caught on a familiar face. Between the bloodstains, he could identify the facial features. Pupil-less eyes, pitch-black, her jaw torn out of her face and lying a few inches away from her face.
“Mo… mori…”Mori, the extractor he had been to the borderland with. The one that had given him a rough glimpse of what sensing the terrain truly felt like. The one who had offered him a place at the Keep, much to Tanya’s annoyance.
He knelt down, his hands slowly inching their way towards the fallen form, until the dried blood touched his skin. The Anomaly within him reacted.
Boundary Set. Creating Territory with 100 feet radius
“...Lukas?” Tanya asked, feeling the waves of energy rolling off him. “What— what are you doing?”
But Lukas didn’t answer. Anomalous energy was radiating off him, creating a massive territory, while the Omphalos ran complex calculations and scanned the biological tissues within the area. The screen kept listing how he was scanning the genetic structure, residual imprints of their mana patterns, schematics of potential skill use by reverse-engineering their physiological characteristics. Everyone knew that the soul was imprinted on the body, which was why one’s physique always reflected one’s skills.
But when viewed from a different angle, a deeper, and more curious question could be asked.
If the soul was imprinted on the body, and the body was studied in absolute detail, could it be possible to reverse-engineer it to create a soul? One that was not born naturally, but forged through the memories of a previously existing entity? And if so, would it be possible to know the difference?
The Screen blinked in with one final message.
Genetic structure of 114 svartalfar specimens analyzed and preserved.
Spiritual schematic construction underway…
Lukas smiled and got up. Maybe this wasn’t the end after all.
“...Lukas?” Tanya asked again.
“Nothing,” he said at last. “Let’s go.”
It took them a while to reach the newly constructed premises. It was a dull, dim, drafty sort of place. Anyone that had seen the original could guess that the terramancers had done a hasty, patchwork job, copying the existing enchantments to create a rough facsimile. The result was a maze, with various offices located at different sections, the walls covered in carvings of depictions of what Tanya described as the Great War, the Glorious Ascension, the Bath of Illumination, the Gate of Might and on and on.
Not only was it large but it all looked the same too. Checkpoint after checkpoint all with the same droll paint. It felt like they had been walking for hours and at the same time, hadn’t moved anywhere. Luckily, the medallion Solana had handed him for the journey opened all doors.
Different worlds. Same rules. Connections got you everywhere.
Finally they approached a large statue, one that provided contrast to their surroundings. A man in a simple tunic raising a crystal of ether.The one and only Ether King and Lord Naowa’s father. Interestingly, he was of common blood. Without an affinity to anything in particular he rose through the ranks with a particularly weak kami and before anyone had realized it, he stood at the top of the continent.
Opening the door, they stepped inside, and found themselves being introduced to the Overseer of Haviskali. The Overseer was the same stocky old man he had encountered back at Zuken’s mansion, easily crossing fifty, clean shaven, dark-skinned with tattoos engraved on his body, starting from the tip of his scalp and running all the way downward. His blunt, strong features were smooth and unreadable, but the light of recognition in his eyes was anything but.
“You,” he said, his tone filled with surprise. “I remember you. We met at Banksi’s mansion. And…” his eyes flickered at Tanya. “I believe you were there as well.”
Lukas sensed Tanya tense beside him.
The Overseer gave him a confused look. “Forgive me, I was told that Lady Kandra sent her representatives to discuss something immediate and profitable. But you…”
“Are one and the same,” said Lukas.
“...I see,” said the man. “Very well. Come with me.”
This tale has been unlawfully lifted from Royal Road; report any instances of this story if found elsewhere.
The man took us to a different room, and made introductions.
“Lord Naowa. They are here.”
Lord Naowa was huge, but there was something about him that suggested agility and grace. It was like looking at a tiger. Sure, it might be standing there looking all calm and relaxed at the moment, but you knew that at any second, it could surge with speed and terrible purpose and that it wouldn’t give you any warning before it came at you and snapped your neck. He had black and gray hair, a beard and terrifyingly intense eyes. He wore standard noble attire, albeit slightly anachronistic. They were also black as the darkest night, matching up with his black fractals that wrung on either wrist. Lukas became painfully aware of Blob imitating his original pair of black fractals.
“Interesting,” said Lord Naowa. “I don’t believe Lady Kandra has ever sent either of you before.”
“I have met these two when they were working for Zuken,” said the Overseer.
“I didn’t think you would remember us, Lord Overseer,” said Tanya.
The man let out a hearty laugh. “You would too, if some vagrant demolished one of your best security staff like a grownup caning a child.”
“That may be a generous assessment. As for why we are here, it's like you said. To discuss matters most immediate and profitable.”
Lord Naowa let out an amused snort. “Fine, I’ll bite.”
He raised a single finger above his head, and twirled it around, a tendril of gray lagging behind as his finger completed a circle. Lukas felt a flicker of the man’s will as he released power into the circle, expanding it outward, raising a thin, enclosed barrier around all of them, a sudden, silent tension that was almost entirely impregnable to eavesdropping.
He waited in the pregnant silence. Something like this required a degree of precision and careful wording, and not the blunt force approach he’d have preferred. Tanya’s words, not his.
“I suppose I should start by introducing myself,” said Tanya. “My full name is Tanya Shimizu, beloved daughter of Yanric, half-sister of Ultaf, and the original heiress of the Shimizu Clan. I am an aeromancer, and the wielder of the Wrath of the Wind King, his Level-5 kami, Ezzeron.”
His eyes twitched.
Both men stared at her like she had grown a second head. Lord Naowa was the first to recover.
“... I’m hoping that you have proof to back your statements on.”
Tanya looked perfectly at home. “I could tell you about how my half-brother attacked Zuken and took him captive to get to me. I could also tell you that he attacked the svartalfars because Zuken told him that I was on a borderland mission for them, and they refused to allow Ultaf access to the Well to fetch me out of there. But I’ll just say that I have an 87% ECR. I am not going to insult anyone’s intelligence by assuming you don’t know what it means.”
ECR. Experience Conversion Ratio. It was the secret to power in this world. Representing how much Experience gained was converted to soul capacity while Leveling Up, a person’s ECR was fixed from birth, and for most bremetans, it didn’t cross the 35-mark. Occasionally, there would be someone with ECR in their lower forties and they would end up becoming a Master spiritist within a decade of training and work experience. The only people that boasted of ECR values in their fifties or maybe, in the lower sixties, were Kings.
But eighty-seven percent?
“That’s… impossible,” claimed Lord Naowa.
“Feel free to verify it then,” said Tanya coolly. “It is why Ezzeron chose me. I was young, but I had the greatest chance to unleash Ezzeron’s potential.”
And he did verify it. Lukas watched as the Shogun ordered an entire setup to be installed along with the obligator staff, and performed a live scan of Tanya’s vitals.
Level 32. Five Level-3 skills, and two Level-4 skills. Which was two more than what he had — apex-tier kinetomancy be damned.
And he definitely wasn’t feeling jealous. Not at all.
“I’ve a quandary, Miss… Shimizu,” said Lord Naowa. “Your family has wronged me twice. First by capturing my trusted advisor, and second, by destroying one of my kingdom’s prime sources of revenue. What’s stopping me from capturing you and sealing you away, and letting the Shimizu crumble before my very eyes?”
Lukas and Tanya shared a glance. It was time for him to interfere.
“You could,” said Lukas. Briefly, he took note of the sheer number of wards running in and around the room. There was no way in hell he, or anyone else, would be able to get away with anything inside this place, let alone understand what half of the wards did for that matter.
“A lot of things could happen, Lord Naowa. For instance, you could choose to attack and subdue us, and Tanya could choose to unleash Ezzeron. It would be interesting to see how the Shogun of the Llaisy Kingdom survives after being at Point Zero of the impact of a Level-5 kami. You could also ask your terramancers right beneath our feet and the ones above the ceiling to take us by surprise, or ask the six standing outside to barge in. You could also gesture to the group hiding in the veil there,” he pointed to his right, “to take us out by surprise. You can also ponder how we know Lady Kandra, and why knowing what Tanya means to the Shimizu, would she willingly walk into a hostile situation demanding your aid.”
He smiled. He might as well have pointed a blade at the man’s throat.
“You are either too sure of yourself or too stupid to commit such brazenness, young man,” warned the Overseer.
“My grandfather has a saying,” said Tanya. “If violence doesn’t solve your problem, you’re not using enough of it.”
It was a stalemate. The false calmness before the storm. Lukas noticed the deep, worry lines form between the Overseer’s hard, steady eyes. Lord Naowa rested his large, blunt-fingered hands on the table, and Lukas could see scars on them — the graffiti of violence. If those two decided to attack, he’d have to make sure the results would be sudden, precipitous and damning.
Part of him wondered if he had fallen for Solana’s deceit yet again. He wouldn’t put it past the ancient bitch to trigger a situation where he made himself and Tanya into an enemy of the Shogun of the Llaisy Kingdom, cutting off every possibility of the two of them leaving the yokai.
“Do you really think it ‘s wise to antagonize me in my place of power, young man?” asked Lord Naowa softly. His expression never changed, but the way his fingers hardened slightly told him volumes. Lukas could feel the obdurate, adamant will that drove the man, and made his power the reigning center of the entire kingdom.
“You’ve already lost Zuken, and now the svartalfars. Can you really afford to antagonize the wielder of the Wind King’s Wrath in such close quarters, Lord Shogun?”
When standing against a powerful foe, it was a very, very dangerous thing to be standing still and appearing like easy prey.
Lukas pulled on his power, lifeforce surging through his body. Mana flooded in as well, mana as hot as the fires of the bylestyr. There was anomalous energy too, to form, give shape, and render his attacks far more potent than they otherwise would. A layer of anti-motion formed around him, micro-thin yet coating every inch of his body. His vision molded to include potential motion trajectories. The next second, he crafted a territory around all four of them, sealing them away from the world around them. Instantly the spiritists rushed at them from all sides, but failed to penetrate past Lukas’s motion barrier.
“Earlier,” Lukas growled. “You said that there was nothing stopping you from trapping and sealing Tanya away. Tell me, what’s stopping me from killing you before any of your men can even get to us?”
No one said anything for several seconds. The Shogun stared at him with more intensity than he had bothered to since the start of the meeting, and Lukas met his gaze without hesitation.
“What do you want?” he finally asked.
“What I want is for Zuken to be released, and for Tanya and I to be left alone for the rest of our lives, but we don’t get what we want, do we? So instead, we are here with an offer that could be to your benefit and ours.”
“I’m listening.”
Lukas tilted his head at Tanya and let her take over.
“Before we tell you what we want, I want to let you know two things. First, Ultaf will kill Zuken the moment the Shimizu lose their Sacred Eight status. Luckily, we know where they have kept Zuken captive, and are working on a way to get him out.”
The Shogun said nothing.
“The second thing you need to know is that we plan to kill Mujin Shimizu.”
No one missed the fact that she said we and not I.
“And… what has that got to do with me?” asked the Shogun.
“We want you to sponsor my candidacy as the next Lady of Shimizu after I kill my grandfather.”
The man’s lips ticked up at one corner. “And why should I do that? In case you’ve forgotten, girl. I am Lord Naowa, son of the Ether King, and the Lord of one of the Sacred Eight. Unlike other Lords, I do not grovel before your might.”
“Perhaps not mine,” said Tanya with a cold, cruel smile. “But you certainly do before the Earth King.”
And just like that, the mood of the room shifted instantly. Naowa’s relaxed look morphed into a grave expression.
“Oh, the truth hurts, does it now?” asked Tanya. “The Earth King might be a friend to my grandfather, but everyone knows how he advocates against the loss of the Sacred Eight clans. About balance. Surely you know all about that, Lord Naowa?”
That, more than anything else, unnerved the man, and Lukas wondered what this was about.
“Make no mistake, sir,” said Tanya, her voice drolly unapologetic. “I will end my grandfather for the wrongs he has done against me, with or without your help. You might not benefit from the Shimizu’s survival, but the Earth King will. With his support, I will rule Cyffnar, and Lord Straff will have no option but to bend before the Earth King’s command. And seeing as you did nothing to help me save your advisor, I think we both know whom Zuken Banksi will choose to serve next. Oh, and you’ll still be here, bereft of your trusted advisor.”
Ultimately, it was just one big game of chicken at the end of it all.
“Those are big words for someone that has been hiding from her family all her life,” said Lord Naowa.
“Gotta start somewhere,” said Lukas.
“I see,” said the man. “And what if… we support you?”
Tanya beamed. “If you support us, then we can end the constant scuffle between the two kingdoms. Let's face it, sir, both of us perfectly know why the anomaly in the Desert was destroyed.”
Lord Naowa froze for a second and turned to the Overseer angrily.
“Not his fault,” said Tanya. “Zuken hired me for that mission. In fact, my record as a Sinner for destroying a Class-2 anomaly earlier was scratched off just so that I could serve the Llaisy Kingdom by Sinning again,” she snorted. “The hypocrisy of bureaucrats, I swear.”
She regarded the man evenly. “My grandfather taught me to define people into three categories. The first are the people he can manipulate who never realize they’re being manipulated. Those are just tools. The second, are people that when manipulated can realize they’re being manipulated and disrupt their goals. Those are enemies. And the third are those that realize they’re being manipulated, and turn it around to gain the upper hand on whoever is manipulating them. Those are called allies.”
Lord Naowa frowned, lost in thought.
She met his eyes. “I’m done being a tool, and you don’t want me to be your enemy. Guess the only slot left is ally. I understand my Clan has done a lot to impair your kingdom and be declared enemies, but personally… I’d like to be friends.”
“Friendship is not done through coercion, Miss Tanya,” said the man gravely.
“No, it is done through actions,” said Tanya.
“Your Clan has permanently impaired my kingdom by annihilating the svartalfars. No gesture or action on your part can undo that.”
“I don’t understand,” said Lukas. “The svartalfars are one of the several species from the Time Before. Why would their presence mean so much to an Asukan kingdom?”
The Shogun gave him a conflicted look, and sighed. “Come with me.”
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