We had no idea what the Lodge had planned. And they had no idea what the kid wanted to do. And he had no idea about the queen’s actual state, about what Mepheleon was planning to do.

Don’t know… Shadow games… All that bullshit. That’s the way of the Claimed Hells.

But I’ll tell you this much: even if I did know, there wouldn’t have been a damn thing I could have done to stop him. Not a damn thing anyone below Duke could have done to beat the kid. Not after he got to Preceptor’s Descent.

What can I say? There are monsters beyond monsters. And masters beyond masters.

Wei An Wei ended up being both.

-Mulver Groon, Knight of Pride

II-22

Unsatisfied

Bishop led Wei through a maze of materializing doors and winding hallways to claim his father.

This Gray House that the Lodge owned was a strange place. Though it looked like a normal mansion from the outside, internally the doors seemed to lead into entirely different places. Even Wei’s Omniscience failed to glean what lurked behind certain walls. The young master’s Shell suspected there might be nothing there at all, that everything within the Gray House was simply modular and disconnected—rooms and doorways leading only where the masters of the mansion decided. That meant that even if it were breached, it would be a hopeless affair for the attackers, for every pathway might lead them further into the slaughter.

But that begged the question: why was Bishop leading him down this variety of halls? The walls were increasingly decorated now—marble surfaces carved with macabre depictions of human anatomy.

And then not only human. Elven, orc, Hivekin, and more. So many more. The carvings spread away from the leftmost wall, slowly seeping across the ceiling, before encompassing every inch of space around Wei. The depressions beneath his feet made walking awkward, and a sense of wrongness consumed this place.

It didn’t spread like a natural choice of architectural design. No, instead it seemed like a natural infection growing through marble and stone.

With each step, the air grew thick with the tang of iron and the sour scent of antiseptic. The stench of unknown chemicals clung to Wei’s skin as well. The final hallway the walked turned fully into a tunnel filled with strange artistry until finally, they were standing before a door made from clasped ribs.

Above the ribs blinked a single eye, its bright blue sclera narrowing as it sighted Bishop before closing entirely.

"Where have you brought me?" Wei breathed.

"Nil’s place," the Trespasser replied with a shrug. "It’s where he puts people back together. Does his experiments.” Wei eyed him. “Yeah, I get that it’s a little creepy, but that’s the way it goes with his class. He needs to treat people, to gain his sins, and, well…"

A distant scream served as Bishop’s answer. It echoed from… somewhere, and the sound of tearing flesh and shattering bone came thereafter.

Wei’s gaze practically burned a hole into Bishop right then. "Master Bishop, if you brought me out here to arrange my dissection—"

"Relax, kid," Bishop said, shaking his head. "I’d never do that. Shit, if I wanted to kill you, I’d just crack your mind.”

Wei pressed his lips together. He’d like to see the man try at this point. "Appreciate the honesty.”

A series of cracks sounded. The ribs blocking their way opened up, and there, Wei saw his father lying on what could only be described as a nightmarish, demonic monstrosity doing its best impression of a bed. It had way too many legs, sporting ingrown nails upon its mangled digits. By its sides were numerous arms with a dozen hands stitched along its length. Each hand clutched a surgical appliance, and it jabbed down, stabbing at William Yu’s wounds—and somehow removing them from existence through deliberate harm.

The bed frame was a teratoma of flesh and bone, eyes dotting its edges, while jagged skeletal growths protruded from its skin. Creeping strings of biomass spread from between the cracks in the frame and burrowed under William’s flesh, keeping a steady flow of blood coursing through him while also suckling at his injuries. They licked at his open cuts, suckled his swelling face until the inflammation went down in patches. And then there was the quilt covering William’s form—a quilt made from human skin, stitched together by a silvery needle.

As he stepped into the room, Wei examined the surroundings once more. This wasn’t meant to be a place that housed humans. No, even more carvings decorated this place. The ceiling above showed a grotesque depiction of a man giving birth to himself via his…

Wei blinked. "Is that man… defecating his entire body?”

Bishop looked up and shrugged. "Yeah, that sometimes happens when Nils botches a surgery. Anyway…" Bishop cleared his throat. "Hey William, guess who just came back from the Tower of Possibility?"

William stirred slightly, groaning as he opened his eyes—the right one still partially swollen.

For a few tense seconds, he just stared, taking in Bishop standing next to Wei.

The young master was unimpressed. The sight of his father was like salt upon a wound. His nerves screamed, his heart accelerated, and his skull thundered with a rising urge to do violence. But he wasn’t what he was before. He wasn’t weak anymore. As his Shell demanded of him, he stayed calm, controlled, and adamant.

"So," William croaked, his voice hoarse, "how’d he do?"

He wasn’t speaking to Wei. Rather, he was speaking to Bishop.

The other Trespasser replied as if nothing was wrong, as if they were just old friends. "Well, you know, the kid’s a monster. I thought him beating your ass was a fluke, but he made it all the way up to Celestial Vanguard."

William’s eyes widened. “All the way to… well. That’s… that’s a pretty good run. Miracle run for a Knight. His mother would be proud." Something almost resembling a proud, fatherly smile pulled at his features. But then he seemed to remember who he was, how he got here, and he suppressed it.

Through it all, he never made eye contact with Wei, never acknowledged his presence.

"Yeah, and when he got to the Vanguard—" Bishop paused, his grin widening. "He fucking beat the pseudo-angel’s ass, too."

William’s attempts to hold back his surprise failed. "What? What do you mean, beat his ass too?"

Finally, he looked at Wei. But instead of shame or horror, there was disbelief, and more than a little awe. "That Celestial Vanguard isn’t something a Knight-Tier should be fighting—not even something most Counts should be fighting."

Bishop laughed. "Not. Shouldn’t. We both know he has a habit of surviving things he shouldn’t, and then killing the things that try to kill him. And coming back to fuck up the people that hurt him.”

There was a not-so-hidden jab in that statement, and William fell silent again.

This time, his eyes finally rested upon Wei. He let out a sigh. "So, I guess that’s that, then."

"No," Wei said, his voice cold. "That is not that. Nothing is done. Nothing…”

He quieted, mustering his will, refusing to break down in tears or explode in anger. The Shell was watching. Bishop was watching. His father was watching. He couldn’t lose himself again. Never again.

"I will never forgive you for what you’ve done," Wei said. "For what you have inflicted upon me. For your sins against the Drowned Sky Sect. The murder. The betrayal of its matriarch. I could see you castrated, tortured, suffering a thousand fates worse than death."

William said nothing.

"But," Wei continued, inhaling, “until that day comes, until there is no more use I can find in you… You worked with the Inheritors. You fled from the Dying Queen. You spent years operating in the Claimed Hells. All your experiences—I have need of them."

He stepped closer to his father. That single act took from Wei more will than facing the Celestial Vanguard. “You were only the dagger, not the wielder. I want to know everyone who was involved in the destruction of my world. And after they are dead, after everything they have and everything they dream of is nothing but ash and misery, then I will decide what to do with you."

William’s response was lackluster. Closer to resignation than anything else. "All right, then."

"All right, then," Wei repeated his voice nearly cracking. “I… that… that is all you have to say to me?”

William Yu threw up his hands, shrugged weakly, and fell slightly against the monstrous bed. "Tears aren’t going to fix this. An apology isn’t going to do shit." His hand closed, then opened again—a gesture of futility. "I suppose it’s time that I hear your contract. How about that lawyer of yours? Let’s make it official. You won. I’m your Karmic Slave now. Let’s start our new relationship there, huh, master.”

This tale has been pilfered from Royal Road. If found on Amazon, kindly file a report.

Wei suppressed the dark rage surging in his chest. Slowly, he called upon his lawyer. A small golden tongue, dressed in a fine suit, hopped out from Wei’s radiant. A flash of divine fire swept out from Wei and his father flinched at the sight. “Jesus Christ,” William cried. “Fucking warn me if you’re going to flashbang me, goddammit son.”

Wei frowned and looked to Bishop.

The other Trespasser didn’t seem to share William’s reaction. The dark-skinned man smirked. "Yeah. People get really soft and fragile without a Class. This is as tough as people can be when we’re just flesh and blood. Real.”

“Real,” Wei replied coldly. “In a way only Tresspasser can be.”

“You too. By half, I guess," Bishop muttered, watching Wei’s lawyer hop up to William’s monstrous sickbed. The small golden creature bounded high, landing on the bedpost before pointing its briefcase directly at William Yu.

"I see that you’ve lost your Class somehow," the lawyer chirped.

William squinted, shielding his eyes from the brightness of Wei’s manifested aura. "Yeah," he muttered, his voice heavy with exhaustion.

"Well, per the guidelines—" the lawyer began, but William waved it off.

"Yeah, yeah, I know the guidelines. I accept. No, I don’t want to settle this in the Highest Court per the conditions of my citizenship. The contract’s been signed. Now enforce it."

Wei’s little lawyer chirped again, snapping its briefcase shut with a loud click. "Well, this will be a quick session, then."

Cases Won: 2

Lawyer Review in Progress - Legal Specialization Pending

Karmic Slave Obtained: [William Yu]

Karmic Slave: This individual’s every right and choice will be determined by you after failing a righteous trial determined by the highest laws. They are now spiritbound to obey you in every circumstance and cannot act against you in any way without your consent. They are your slave and yours alone unless you decree otherwise or set them free.

The lawyer turned to Wei. "Congratulations! You now have a Karmic Slave.” The lawyer’s voice grew gleeful as it added, "And your father too! The taboo things you can get into here are spectacular. If you want a personal recommendation, the Circle of Lust has many programs in the Black Theaters that will pay good money to see a son do certain acts to their father—Force male impregnation—”

"Enough," Wei said, his voice a bomb of barely restrained fury.

The space around Wei combusted. The surrounding walls began to flake and dissolve, divine fire deconstructing matter, winnowing the carvings down to a smooth flatness in a violent instant. Wei barely avoided burning Bishop and his father. Barely.

His lawyer froze, its golden body trembling as it flinched. "Oh, I’m sorry. I, um… I’ll be going now. I’ll handle the processing of the contract. Lots—lots of paperwork!"

And like a darting arrow, the lawyer shot back into Wei’s aura and vanished. Wei clenched his fists, absolute disgust simmering just below the surface. "Must everything here be wretched and disgusting?"

"Kid, you’re in hell," Bishop reminded him with a smirk.

Wei let out a snarl and marched over to his father, his temper held back by a thread. He glared at his father, and the man just stared back.

“See you chose the flame,” William muttered.

Bishop answered before William could speak. "You know you can do whatever you want with him now, right," Bishop said flatly. "He’s your Karmic Slave. That’s how it works. Wanna torture him? Go ahead. You can torture him. He’s got no rights. Wanna kill him? Sure, it’d be like breaking your own property, but again—he’s got no rights."

Bishop’s tone was practical there was a hint of displeasure.. "But, if you want my recommendation…" He trailed off, considering his words carefully. Wei’s piercing gaze locked on Bishop, daring him to say something displeasing. "Use him," Bishop said at last. "Use him for his experience. Shit, I’m not going to tell you there’s still some good left in him or that he deserves to be saved. Because he doesn’t."

"Thanks, Bishop," William interrupted, his voice dripping with sarcasm. "And fuck you."

"Fuck you too, William," Bishop shot back without missing a beat. He made the gesture—the one with the middle finger the goblins made at that merchant in the anchor city. "You got yourself into this."

Turning back to Wei, Bishop continued. "Look, however you feel about him, he’s going to be an invaluable resource. He’s worked in the Claimed Hells, dealt with the Inheritors, fled from the Dying Queen. He’s seen more shit than most people could handle. That’s knowledge you can use. Maybe keep him in reserve. Hell, consider giving him a low-level Class. Something small, just enough to make him more useful. He can’t betray you anyway.”

Bishop saw the outrage flash across Wei’s face and quickly raised a hand to placate him. "You don’t need to, but think about it. Think of him as a tool. A dagger. Just like he used to be for the Inheritors."

Wei didn’t respond immediately, his jaw tight as he weighed Bishop’s words. Finally, he gave a curt nod. "I’ll take your words into account."

As Wei turned to his father again, his cold fury palpable, he found the man well past the border of acceptance. We didn’t know what he was expecting. Begging? Fear? No. William Yu had many flaws, but he was no weakling, no feeble victim. He lost. And he accepted that with the refinement of a warrior, a cultivator.

Heavens damn it all.

"Well, Wei," William whispered. "I—"

Whatever else he was going to say went unspoken. Wei reached down and pulled him into his Inventory, his father’s body vanishing in a clench of spatial Essence.

William didn’t resist. He couldn’t resist. He was a mundane man now, stripped of his Class and power. That meant he would languish as long as Wei desired, trapped in the cold void of his Inventory.

The monstrous bed that had held William let out a low groan. Its legs folded beneath it, sprawling out like a grotesque animal succumbing to sleep. The hands folded over, and Wei finally noticed it had a level too.

Sickbed Lv. 135

"Well, looks like we’re done here, then," Bishop said, breaking the silence. He cast Wei an inquisitive look. "Honestly, I expected you to spit on him. Or try to kill him. Or something."

"I thought about doing many things," Wei admitted. His voice was the calmness of a sea before a storm. A storm that had yet to come—that might never stop once it started. "I thought about many things. But it wouldn’t help me. Not really."

"No, it wouldn’t," Bishop agreed. For once, Bishop’s usual smirk was gone, replaced by a faint look of pity. "I… I can’t tell you how your revenge will feel. Or how you’re supposed to be feeling now. But I’ll tell you this: I do what I can for you. Help you however I can. I know you didn’t ask for this—fucking don’t deserve none of this. But you’re part of this war now, and we got the same enemies, same bastards to kill. Trust in that. Mutual animosity.”

Wei didn’t reply. He didn’t know how to reply. He felt everything and nothing all at once. Furious. Triumphant. Unsatisfied.

It felt like things were only beginning instead of ending.

He had reached his father. He had broken him his Class. And now the man was at Wei’s mercy. His literal slave. Wei… it felt wrong. Wrong on a level that twisted Wei’s stomach.

“You’ve been through a lot of shit again today,” Bishop snorted. “Probably won’t be getting that many breaks down the line too. But this is it for today.”

Wei looked at the Trespasser. “We still need to discuss our ‘falling out.’ How my Sect will ‘go independent.’”

“Later. You should… shit, we both know you won’t be resting. But spend some time with your companions. Maybe calm them down. They’re about to tear Hasen’s head off.”

“Hansen?”

“Guy we got guarding all of them. He’s barely keeping them calm. Might not be able to without resorting to force soon.”

Wei growled. “If he touches any of mine—”

“Yeah. So. Get. Don’t wanna get poor Hansen murdered.”

Despite everything, it still felt awkward for Wei to leave. He gave Bishop a salute and, as he pulled his room’s fob out from his Inventory, he paused. “John Doe. Nils. They were expecting me to fail. To come to you for advice. This was to create a relationship and bind me to you all, wasn’t it.”

Instead of surprise, outright, denial, or blankness, Bishop threw his head back and laughed. “Hell yeah. And, though a few folks in the Lodge are a bit… thrown off, I loved it. And I’m glad you noticed. You got good instincts for tradecraft. That’ll help you handle the problems you can’t kill with that shiny new spear of yours.”

"I suppose so," Wei replied. “What is… tradecraft.”

“Tell you later. Get out of here. No more questions. Spend some time on your own. I’ll be in touch soon. Help set things up.”

Wei nodded, and he pressed his fob. For a moment, he felt a tendril of spatial Essence shoot out from the item and…

Bishop blinked. “Oh, right.” He clapped his hands twice, and Wei suddenly felt the doorway that came through change in an instant, blinking to the courtyard leading to the Gray House. There, he saw the green lawns and the city skyline of the Cherub’s Corpse and—

The world twisted as a swirl of spatial Essence consumed Wei, dragging him far across space. He felt himself collapsing inward, sucked into a tunnel of blackness until light surged ahead of him.

Moments later, he jolted back into his room in the Third Rib, right before his front door. The room was quiet, too quiet, but distant sounds of commotion trickled in from the hallway outside. It sounded like… arguing. Bishop said something about his companions arguing with a Trespasser Hasen.

Just as he was about to step out and summon his closest friends, Wei froze.

He sensed the Companion coming down the stairs from the second-floor bedroom. And the young master frowned. Something was wrong. Something was off about the strange Lust-made construct.

The weight of paranoia coiled tightly around Wei. Perhaps he was…

“It's not paranoia,” the Shell whispered in his mind. “It's survival. Trust your instincts. Do not be blinded by them.”

He scanned the hotel room, his sharp eyes flickering over every corner. The furniture was untouched, everything where it should be. Nothing else seemed off. But the Companion. Why was it coming to greet him? It was still a featureless puppet, but Wei’s last orders were for it to face the wall. Had Agnesia told it to do something otherwise? Could she even order it?

Considering the messy state of his blankets, it's clear she left in a hurry earlier.

The Companion appeared before Wei, stepping out from the end of the staircase and greeting him with a wave. “Greetings, Master Wei.” Its voice was smooth, polite, and yet somehow… off. There was a bit more life there compared to earlier. The cadence was slightly off, too. And the posture. It stood like it weighed a hundred pounds heavier—its legs apart in the stance of a brawler.

"You’ve been absent for some time," the Companion continued. "The others didn’t know where you were. They were extremely worried."

"Were they now?" Wei asked, his voice sharp as a blade. “And Rafael told you this when he was in my room earlier?”

The Companion went silent. And then, Wei felt the Essence inside it suddenly spike. A surge of power poured into the construct from someplace unseen, the young master’s eyes widened as cracks spread down its clay-shaped body, spiritual energies overflowing—

Whereupon the Companion disintegrated with a gust of Wei’s Divine Wind. Celestial fire blossomed out from the young master’s body as everything before him came asunder. The Companion was swept away like grains of dust—destroyed before it could detonate itself.

For a beat, Wei stared at a deep gouge he left across the middle of his room and frowned. And then he exploded into action, sending a message to Bishop. “You are a funny man, Master Bishop.”

“?” Was all he got in reply.

“Soon, you tell me. Is this your plan? To use the room’s Companion to ‘assassinate’ me and steal back your friend. Disappointing. I’ve always suspected the strange puppet. You should have been more creative.”

“The fuck are you talking about?”

Wei paused. “You didn’t hijack my Companion and try to overload it?”

A pause. “Goddammit. Alright. I’m coming over. Can’t get a damn break.”

Wei blinked. “That wasn’t your assassin?”

“No. Not at all.”

The young master frowned. And then a loud rumbling explosion outside blew a chunk of his door off its frame. Wei tilted his head and avoided the shrapnel, releasing a miserable sigh. “So much for a moment’s respite.”