Instead of appearing above the academy like Aodhán had expected, Artemis took nearly half a dozen short jumps, teleporting from one checkpoint to the other. He never stopped long enough to get himself checked, though, and instead just barreled through the checkpoints with a scowl.

The soldiers didn’t seem to mind, though, and some of them even cheered, having been informed of the Changeling’s death by now. When they finally reached the checkpoint at the Awakened Court, Artemis shouted to the lead guard. “Go get yourselves a beer, fella. What are you still doing here?”

Aodhán, who was still struggling to keep his food down, scowled. “Are you supposed to be encouraging them to be lax in their duties?”

Artemis glared down at him and flung him into the next portal, muttering. “First you steal my gem, and now you talk back at me.”

Aodhán failed to keep his food down this time, but before it was even halfway out of his mouth, he was thrown into another portal, this time appearing directly above the academy library. He flailed, completely disoriented, but Artemis caught him before he could crash into the building, scowling as Aodhán vomited all that he had eaten onto the roof of the library.

Aodhán heaved, gasping for air as the world spun around him. It took him a few seconds to finally get himself together, and with a scathing glare, he said to Artemis, “You may be a champion, but you’re no different from your brothers.”

“Half brothers.” Artemis corrected with a frown and shrugged. “I’ll take that as a compliment. My half-brothers are geniuses.”

“And bullies.” Aodhán added as he jerked away from Artemis, creating a platform for himself to float on. “I’ve met three of your brothers, including Nikolaus, and you’re all insane.”

Rather than take offense at his statement, Artemis laughed and shook his head. “I guess you haven’t met any of our half-sisters then, because compared to them, we’re pretty sane.”

Aodhán shook his head in disgust, but before he could respond, the spiritual attention of over a dozen advanced-class individuals suddenly landed on them, causing Artemis to scowl in annoyance.

Rahim and Agent Kaelith appeared the next instant, and from the glare Rahim and Artemis shot each other, Aodhán suspected there might be some history between them. Agent Kaelith, on the other hand, was perfectly polite. He gave a small bow and said, “Thank you so much, champion, for bringing him back safe and sound. We heard the mission was successful.”

“It was, thanks to Aodhán.” Artemis responded and smiled. “Convey my greetings to principal Zatya. She still owes me a few gems if I remember correctly.”

“I’ll make sure to deliver your message, Champion.” Kaelith chuckled and clasped his hands behind him. “Thank you once again.”

Artemis winked at Aodhán, and the next instant he was gone, tearing a hole through space that led directly to the fort. Aodhán scowled, wondering why he hadn’t just done that before, instead of taking a dozen jumps.

The portal snapped shut a moment later, letting out a small cloud of spatial essence, but it wasn’t until the cloud of essence dispersed that Rahim spoke. “How are you doing?”

“I’m fine, just feeling a little woozy.” Aodhán replied as he turned around to look at his mentor, whose expression seemed both concerned and annoyed at the same time. He was curious to know the history between Rahim and Artemis, but he decided to save his questions for later.

“We are glad to have you back so quickly.” Kaelith smiled at him and patted his shoulders. “Now tell us everything that happened.”

Aodhán launched into a narration of his time in the seventh sector, detailing his meeting with General Deaton and the champions and how they had eventually caught the changeling.

Rahim asked him several questions, trying to make sure he was really okay and that he hadn’t been ‘maltreated’ by the military. When they eventually reached the entrance to the admin building and began making their way up to Principal Zatya’s office, Aodhán texted Daruk, Yurin, and Andrew, informing them that he had returned safe and sound.

Daruk’s reply was immediate: Where are you now?

“Heading towards the principal’s office.” Aodhán replied. “I’ll text you guys when I’m done.”

“Meet us at the cafeteria for dinner.” Daruk responded, and Aodhán agreed.

They arrived at Principal Zatya’s office a minute later, but before Rahim could even knock, she called out. “Come in, Rahim.”

They walked into the office, and Principal Zatya looked up from a pile of documents she was dealing with, her hair looking slightly mussed from stress. Aodhán didn’t think he had ever seen a strand of her hair out of place before.

She gestured for him to take a seat, and Aodhán launched into another narration, this one starting from the decision of the Awakened council to the gifts the champions had given him, although he left out the part about Geneva’s practice note.

When he finished speaking, Principal Zatya brushed her hair back and sighed. “Rahim and Kaelith have already briefed me about the events concerning the awakened council, and I think their decision is more than fair. I’m glad your mission was a success, which means we should be receiving news from the council soon concerning your entrance into the Black Forest.”

“Can I enter the forest at any time?” he asked curiously. He had heard of people of various tiers entering the black forest, but with the selection process and exams coming up very soon, Aodhán wasn’t sure now was the best time for that adventure.

Principal Zatya agreed with him. “You can enter the Black Forest at any time once you’ve been granted access; however, it is better to go in at the advanced class. Most people who enter the forest are usually between tier 25 and 30, in order to use the forest’s resources to solidify their advanced foundations.”

Aodhán nodded, satisfied with that timeline. The next few weeks would be very hectic for him, and during the holidays, Aodhán intended to find a job to pay off his fine to the Awakened council. He couldn’t very well do that if he was jaunting around the Black Forest with pompous nobles for company.

He chatted with Principal Zatya for nearly an hour and couldn’t help but notice that Principal Zatya seemed so much better after their lengthy conversation.

When he eventually left the office, it was already night, and the golden clouds of the nexus floated merrily in the sky. Before heading to the cafeteria, Aodhán summoned Varéc out of his spirit and released him for his nightly hunt, aware that the familiar had been more than patient these past few days.

Varéc emerged out of his spirit with his usual roar of excitement, drawing the attention of everyone around him. Some waved in greeting, and Aodhán waved back.

The ban on information was still ongoing within the academy, which meant that three-quarters of the student population still didn’t know about the whole changeling situation, let alone her death. This also meant that apart from the 4th-year students, Aodhán was the sole person with any information concerning the war, and that made him quite popular.

Everyone waved at him, too polite to be direct, but their thoughts and hopes were obvious. Aodhán didn’t mind at all. He was all too happy to spill the beans and couldn’t be more thankful that Principal Zatya hadn’t ordered him to keep the information private.

When he finally reached the cafeteria, which was unusually crowded for a time like this, Aodhán made his way to their usual table and grinned when he saw his friends eagerly waiting for him. Andrew was almost shivering in excitement, and the moment Aodhán sat down, he ordered. “Tell us everything that has happened in the past three weeks.”

Yurin concurred with an eager nod, and Daruk leaned forward, curiosity etched into his face. Neither of them even bothered to welcome him or ask if he was alright, but Aodhán understood their excitement, and for the third time that day, Aodhán launched into the story of his mission.

While he spoke, he noticed that the cafeteria was getting quieter with each word, and when he turned around, he found almost his entire class listening attentively. Even Cyrus and his friends were listening.

Seeing his entire class listening attentively to his words did something to Aodhán. Rather than withdraw or ignore them, Aodhán did something he had never done before. He stood to his feet and gestured for everyone to come closer.

People rushed forward, and although some stubbornly remained in their seats, over half of the class moved forward. After the scraping of chairs finally died down, Aodhán narrated the story again. He began with the reason for his mission, citing the changeling as the main reason for the information ban, before describing the invasive measures of identification he’d undergone when he had arrived in the 7th sector.

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His narration got more dramatic with each word, and when he got to the part where Artemis literally tore the changeling in two, the entire cafeteria was hooked, some wearing faces of disgust while others like Harnoth Darkwater and Andrew wore expressions of awe and bliss.

Aodhán didn’t stop there; he narrated how he’d taken a tour of the camps and how he had met over a dozen champions. When he was done speaking, the cafeteria let out a collective sigh and began muttering amongst themselves. Aodhán sat back down, and Andrew shook his head in amazement. “I can’t believe you met Thalia Lightus. That woman is a legend!”

“True.” Yurin agreed. “But I’m more fascinated with Rivaldi. I’ve always wondered how he could make an affinity like steam so dangerous.”

“Any Affinity can be deadly.” Daruk shook his head, quoting one of Professor Alaric’s earlier statements. “However, I’m more concerned about what will happen now. Killing a champion is not something Sunstone will take lightly.”

“Oh, I’m sure they won’t.” Andrew snorted. “But aside from Warp and maybe Lightus, I don’t think any of their current champions can compare to ours.”

Their discussion continued almost till midnight, after which they all returned to their respective houses. Aodhán moved up to his room, intending to study the practice note Geneva had given to him while he waited for Varéc’s return. However, when he reached his room, he had barely shut the door behind him when a knock sounded, and Meredith peeked in, her face flushed and eyes bright.

She smiled coyly and leaned forward suggestively. “Would you like some company?’

Aodhán glanced at the sheer outfit she was putting on and then at his reading table, weighing his options carefully. After a moment of consideration, he decided that the runes could wait a few more hours, and with a sly grin, he pulled Meredith inside and said, “I could definitely use some company.”

***

Supreme General Jia Ling stood before the floor-length windows of her office within the Sun Tower, counting her prayer beads and watching the sovereign capital sprawled out beneath her while the royal castle towered above her in the distance.

The capital sector of Sunstone was beautiful, and even in the light of day, it shone, a testament to the blessings of Aeloria. Towering structures of silver and gold jutted into the sky, their domed tops emblazoned with the image of a blazing sun.

Despite standing more than 600 meters above the earth, Jia Ling had no problem hearing the voices of thousands of mortals as they went about their day, worried about all their petty needs. She could, of course, block out the noise, but Jia Ling was ashamed to admit that the sound calmed her. She wished she harbored such insignificant fears and worries. Alas, she had chosen the path of immortality, a path so fraught with blood and pain that she could never afford the luxury of mundanity in a hundred lifetimes.

“Sun, guide me.” Jia Ling muttered quietly as she fingered her beads and prayed to Aeloria for wisdom.

Things had been a little quiet on the war front in the last few weeks, and by quiet, she meant that there had been no major battles or clashes between them and the Ragnarian army. Petty skirmishes were still common, and more than once, Sunstonian border cities had been raided or even outright sieged. Still, Jia Ling would rather deal with all that than a full-scale war between both kingdoms. It was a moment of reprieve that wouldn’t last, Jia Ling was sure, but she cherished the moment regardless.

Just last week, her generals had wondered if perhaps King Ragnar the third had finally let go of his grievances now that he was so close to his ascension, but Jia Ling knew they just couldn’t be that lucky. King Ragnar the third was a madman, one far more obsessed with punishing Sunstone than his father ever was.

The fact that the other kingdoms had pulled out of the war to focus on their own growth and development had mattered little to him. So obsessed was he that sometimes, Jia Ling wondered if he even remembered that Sunstone wasn’t the real enemy here. They had simply been the turncoats hoping to save their own necks in what had seemed to be a losing war.

Jia Ling knew her ancestors had done wrong, trying to sell out the other kingdoms to save themselves, but to be punished for a sin committed a thousand years ago was just absurd. Jia Ling had hoped that as a newer generation of royals took over, their enmity and thirst for revenge would wane; sadly, she had been wrong, and instead it had grown even stronger.

Jia Ling sighed. She was bone-weary of this war and just wanted it to end so she could focus on conquering her aspects and solidifying her cultivation in preparation for ascension. Aside from that, she had been the cause of the death of millions. Her hands were drenched in the blood of millions, and Jia Ling was weary of it all. If she could avoid adding one more life to that list, she would be eternally grateful.

When Ragnarok issued their ultimatum after the plague wraith attack, her generals had been hell-bent on retaliating with full force. They had suggested several tactics and conjured several strategies that might have brought Ragnarok to its knees, but when Jia Ling estimated the amount of soldiers, men and women, innocent fathers, mothers, and children that would die to perfectly execute even one of those plans, she had hesitated. Her heart had ached in pain, and her soul had shied away from the violence.

That was when Jia Ling realized that she couldn’t do this for much longer. She was hesitating, and this hesitation was beginning to affect her decisions.

Jia Ling was a calamity-class Life awakened, but after all the death she had seen in this war, she had grown completely apathetic to the loss of life. That apathy was what had gotten her this position after all, but now as she drew closer to the 200th tier, she could feel those apathetic walls crumbling, almost like a physical thing in her mind. She could no longer in good conscience send men and women to their death, all for a war they didn’t even know the origin of.

Her generals had spent weeks deliberating on a retaliatory action, but in the end, Jia Ling discarded all of their bloody ideas and chose to go with a subtler and less bloody approach. She had proposed sending the Changeling to destabilize Ragnarok’s military, a plan that almost none of her generals had been on board with, but until they came up with something that limited the loss of life to the absolute minimum, Jia Ling wouldn’t—couldn’t—accept it either.

In the end, they had decided on the changeling plan as a temporary distraction while they came up with another. No one had expected it to succeed at all, not even her who had proposed it, but the changeling had proven them all wrong, and Jia Ling had to admit that she was pleasantly surprised with its success so far. It had been six weeks since they had sent the Faceless to Ragnarok, and the reports coming in had been absolutely positive, so much so that Jia Ling had ordered more changelings be sent.

Not all of them had gotten past Ragnarok’s extreme security measures, but a few of them had, and Jia was working on placing them at strategic locations in order to use them when the time was right while her generals worked on a more concrete plan to bring this war to an end once and for all, or at least a truce that would last long enough for her to ascend and hand the baton over to someone else.

Chuckling quietly, Jia Ling shifted her mind from matters of war back to the noise of the mortals below her, but before she could relax in the sounds of their petty worries, she suddenly felt a burst of spatial essence as someone teleported into the tower.

The person waited within chaotic space for a moment before pushing past the veil and into her office with a frown. “Supreme, we have a problem.”

Jia Ling suppressed a sigh at the ominous words and turned to gaze at Li Fang, her most trusted general and friend. “What is the problem this time?”

Li Fang walked to stand beside her before responding. “By the sun, Supreme. I bring bad news. I just received word from the watcher that the Faceless is dead.”

Fang’s words came as a shock to Jia Ling, who had just been congratulating herself on the Changeling’s success. Despite her shock, though, she immediately began issuing orders to pull out the other changelings she had sent or at least relocate them to less dangerous areas. If Ragnarok had caught the Faceless, then it was only a matter of time before they caught the others too, and Jia didn’t want their blood on her hands.

“I’ve collated all her messages,” Li Fang continued, “and I’ve given them to the diviners to decrypt, but I doubt they’ll find anything useful. It’s obvious that she had some important information to report, but I’m afraid she wasn’t able to get it to us before her death.”

Jia Ling pinched her brows in frustration, wondering when Daystar had become this smart and bloodthirsty. They had been playing this game of chess for decades now, and in all that time, Jia had always managed to stay a step ahead of her brutal nemesis. However, the past few months had been one surprise after the other, and she was sick of it.

She turned her gaze back to the window, watching the citizens of Sunstone as they partied and moved about their daily lives, oblivious to the thousands of soldiers who died each day just to maintain this little bubble of peace and dreams.

The death of each soldier was important, but the death of a champion was a terribly great matter, and Jia Ling doubted she could avoid a direct attack after this. Champions were the peak of excellence, the best of the best, and such talent didn’t come easily. However, there was something even more pressing than the death of the changeling, and from Li Fang’s expression, Jia Ling doubted it would be something she wanted to hear. Still, she had to ask.

“Did she at least die with honor?”

Li Fang’s expression darkened with anger, and with a wave of his hand, he displayed a video of Artemis Valerion, surrounded by a group of champions, as he tore Seo-yeon in two and threw her body into the mob of soldiers like rags.

“I told one of the diviners to get this for me, and,” he hesitated, his voice strained with anger, “I understand your hesitation when it comes to direct attacks, but we cannot let this go unpunished no matter the cost in lives. This war has gone beyond our age-old betrayal. At one point, it was a scheme to cull our numbers, but now, it’s personal. It has become a political struggle to see which kingdom is greater, and we cannot let ourselves be perceived as weak.

Jia Ling closed her eyes, knowing that this was an argument she couldn’t refute. She couldn’t let an insult such as this slide without penalty. The price of killing a champion was the life of another, and Sunstone would have its due.

Steeling herself against the decisions she was about to make, Jia Ling glared down at the mass of worrisome mortals and said, “Gather the other generals for a meeting in the War Chamber along with the strongest champions you can round up on such short notice. I’ll meet you in fifteen minutes. We have much to discuss.”

Li Fang bowed and teleported out, leaving Jia Ling to glare at the mortals below as if it was their fault she had been forced into this position. She had tried to avoid wanton violence and bloodshed, but since Ragnarok craved it so much, then they would have it. She would make sure they had it so much that they became just as sick and tired of it as she was now.

With her mind made up, Jia Ling moved to a corner of her office and infused her divination ball with life essence as she calibrated the device to a contact she hadn’t used or divined in years. It took a while before the call finally went through, and after a few minutes, the holographic display of a man appeared before her.

The man had flowing red hair and crimson runes for eyes. Several scars crisscrossed his face, left behind as reminders, and even through the projection, Jia Ling could almost taste the coppery tang of blood wafting from the man.

The man raised an impatient eyebrow and said, “I do not take divination calls during cultivation sessions, Jia. This is a courtesy.”

Jia nodded. “I understand, Akazuki-kun. However, I find myself in need of your help.”

“What do you need?”

“Guidance.” She responded stoically. “I want to drown Ragnarok in blood, so much so that it is all they’ll know for generations to come.”