“I can’t believe this is actually happening,” Amalyse muttered.

Rieren had to nod her head in agreement.

“For better or worse, it is,” Kalvia said. “As such, the best we can do is take full advantage of the opportunity and claim our victory.”

Amalyse looked skeptical. “Opportunity, Your Majesty?”

“Of course! What else is a tournament but an opportunity to not only showcase your prowess and your potential, but also an event where one can gain and claim far more than in any other circumstance?”

Rieren wouldn’t go so far as to call tournaments the greatest events for material growth—such things like wars, assassinations, and bastard imperial daughters claiming the throne for themselves were far more efficient in terms of potential personal gain. Nevertheless, she did see what Kalvia was getting at.

The Empress-to-be had gathered the other three former Lionshard Sect disciples at a small tea house that had just reopened. They were all sipping the same warm drink in small clay cups, though Rieren had taken less sugar and milk than the others.

She looked around. The establishment was still a bit dingy from having reopened so recently. Rieren could spot the cobwebs and dust the proprietor had missed.

Nevertheless, it was overall a soothing little place. The walls had been painted with the scene of animals drinking from a pool, likely to whip up potential customers’ thirst. Large windows let the morning’s light stream in, turning the interior bright and sunny. The smell of warm tea and other bits and pieces wafted deliciously through the air.

“What exactly are you hoping to gain, Your Majesty?” Amalyse asked.

She was doing a good job of not appearing overly circumspect about the whole thing. Rieren suspected Kalvia’s true intention behind summoning them all to a meeting was to form some sort of alliance. Of course, they were already bonded through their past experiences and whatnot. Kalvia simply wished to make it official.

“I want the throne, of course,” the future Empress said, blowing on her drink.

“Yes, yes. What I mean is that what will you gain out of this tournament?” Amalyse pointed at Rieren and Rollo. “We are all simple disciples who can stand to benefit from the monetary gains and other proposed rewards. But that’s not very helpful for someone seeking to become the Empress, is it?”

Kalvia’s smile was beatific. Almost patronizing. Maybe she was adopting the airs of an Empress a little too much. “Ah, but you forget. The rewards are going to be adjusted. They are still negotiating. In fact, if all goes according to plan, we might have seats at the imperial court going up for grabs.”

Rieren was as startled as the rest of her companions. Now that was a hefty reward.

“A seat at the imperial court?” she said.

“Several,” Kalvia confirmed with a nod. “If we can get our way.”

“That is… that would be incredible. Though, I am having difficulty imagining the current imperial court allowing such a thing to occur. Unless they are adding more seats altogether instead of replacing the current crop of dignitaries and Elders. But even then, they would never allow anything to dilute their power nor let their grip upon the court loosen even a fraction.”

“That is the power of negotiation, sweetling. In fact, I’m certain the first thing we all claimed was the Emperor’s head. When you’re trying to obtain the most you can out of an agreement, it’s always best to aim for as high as you possibly can, regardless of the likelihood of attaining it or any other reasonable factors.”

Amalyse looked slightly aghast, while for the first time, Rollo’s eyes had an animated light. They were both sitting straight in their chairs.

“I knew there was a reason I swore fealty to you,” he said. Then he laughed. “Asking for his head straight from the get-go. That might just be insane enough to actually get you the imperial seats.”

He wasn’t wrong. Rieren herself lacked proper experience when it came to such matters, but she knew enough to know that boldness was often the path to victory, both within and without battles.

Kalvia’s story went on. The negotiators involved the Clanmistress of the Shatterlands and her advocates and supporter, the Clanmasters of the northern Archnobles, including the Arteroth, and the prominent Sect Leaders in the regions opposing the empire. Such a combined force had weight behind their words. If they all demanded the Emperor’s head together…

Rieren smiled. Someone must have orchestrated that, which was the only reason the endeavour had succeeded. Instead of laughing off the ludicrous demands of one upstart clan, the motion was backed by the entire contingent who stood against the Emperor and his imperial court.

“When will we hear whether we’re getting his head or the seats?” Amalyse asked.

“Soon,” Kalvia said. “We finished the meeting less than a week ago, so they’ve had ample time to consider. I wouldn’t be surprised if their answer is on the way already.”

There had been no real meeting in truth. No one was journeying to potentially hazardous ground nowadays. Not with Abyssals still roaming the countryside, with the Dreadflood still active, and with no guarantee that the ones they were dealing with wouldn’t end up betraying them one way or another.

So instead, they had been communicating through high-Grade messenger Spirit Beasts. The most powerful of that kind could carry messages across the breadth of the entire Elderlands in less than a day.

The fact that they were Spirit Beasts who didn’t rely on traditional energy demands like other living creatures helped with that. All they ran on was a combination of their own innate Essence and the external Essence they channelled in constantly. An inexhaustible supply of energy, much like what powerful cultivators were capable of.

“At least the grounds have been settled,” Amalyse said. “Though I’m not sure I like it.”

“It was a compromise, yes?” Rollo peered between Kalvia and Amalyse, leaning back in his chair. “I doubt anyone ended up happy with it. The only thing compromises are good for is making sure no one comes out unhappy.”

Kalvia had no reply to that. Her eyes were closed, her face downturned and a little pinched as though she was considering something.

Rieren supposed they had achieved the best they could when they had settled on this tournament’s location. It was still within the imperial clan’s official grounds, but at the very edge. In fact, according to what she’d been told, Rieren would be able to leap from the tournament grounds to either the Shatterlands or the Northern Ranges, the northern region of the Elderlands.

In other words, it was almost at the centre of the conflict. Of course, there were still suspicions regarding why the imperial clan had allowed such a location.

They were poring over the surrounding countryside and making sure everything was in the right order. No locations where any troops or other cultivators might have hidden. No secret dungeons from which Abyssals might come charging out. No other nasty surprises. Hopefully.

“It is too tantalizing,” Rieren said. She took a long sip. Her tea was losing its warmth. “I cannot trust what they are attempting through this tournament. There must be some ulterior motive.”

“Must there?” Kalvia asked. “I may be disparaging of the Forborne Emperor for letting things come to such a state, but even I can appreciate the need to not let things get any worse.”

“Perhaps.” Actually, Rieren could understand that bit. The Forborne Emperor wasn’t evil. She understood that this might be his initiative, that he truly wished for no devastating wars to rock the empire like last time. “But I doubt the rest of his court would allow such a thing if they had no opportunity to gain something through it.”

“She’s right,” Amalyse said. “If we can win seats in the imperial court, what do participants from the court’s side have to gain? Protecting the seats they already occupy? I’m not so sure that would be enough of a reward to tempt them. From everything I’ve heard, those old codgers would try to cling to their positions of power even if the Elderlands burned to ash.”

You could be reading stolen content. Head to Royal Road for the genuine story.

“And you must understand, the court is equivalent to the gods now. That is how they have insinuated themselves into the empire itself. Their followers—in most cases, their Banishedborn—are the ones who now run the court. Some overt, some hidden, but all there nevertheless.”

Kalvia tutted. She pushed her cup away and waved off the server trying to get her more tea. Rieren noticed the poor man looked a little stressed. They probably hadn’t foreseen they would be hosting the Empress so soon after reopening. “What they are gaining is the opportunity to crush their opponents and end anything standing in their way.”

“I thought this was a tournament,” Amalyse said, expression turning dark. “Not a series of deathmatches.”

“We might hold onto some semblance of civilization, but let’s face it, we’re cultivators in the end. Mercy isn’t one of our strongest suites. We’re known for razing entire generations to the ground, after all.”

Kalvia was right. If they didn’t kill their enemies when the time was nigh, more often than not, it would come back to bite them. One of the fundamental rules of being a cultivator was being decisive.

Still. Rieren couldn’t shake that there was something more to it. Something she was missing at the moment. Perhaps it would only be something that she could understand once she was at the tournament itself.

The idea of physically being there made her spine turn rigid. So much attention… Not only from the crowds who would gather, from the entirety of the Elderlands who would also attend while seeking the same thing, but also the Banishedborn as well. And the gods too, through them. For all she knew, this might just be a trap to capture her and others like her.

All the undesirables that the Avatars had failed to capture or kill.

She tried to have faith in the political power backing her. Rieren suspected that like her and Gorint Malloh, most of the surviving ones who had taken up arms against the gods or the empire had allied themselves with the imperial clan’s current enemies too. They needed the same kind of protection and assistance that Rieren was currently benefiting from.

It reminded her of the Avatar who had come to assassinate her several months ago. Her mouth twisted, and it took some effort to bring her expression back under control. Things were different now. If anyone tried to betray her, there were many others who would raise the Abyss.

“Has the competition itself been finalized?” Rollo asked.

Amalyse glanced at him. “Why do you care? I thought you didn’t even want to participate.”

“I don’t, but I am curious.”

Amalyse squinted at him. He ignored her, focusing on Kalvia.

“Since there are technically three major factions,” the future Empress said. “We had to separate the actual competition into three major aspects that we each would handle.”

“Oh no,” Amalyse muttered.

Kalvia waved away her concern. “It will be fine. We decided the judges after all.”

“So…” Rieren frowned. “The Shatterlands contingent are going to be the judges of the competition that others decide?”

“Well, we can’t be that corrupt about it, unfortunately. Otherwise, they’d start getting ideas, and we can’t have that.”

That was fair enough. This meant the other two aspects that the imperial clan and the northerners would be in charge of were the competition itself and the order of participants. If the easterners rigged the judges too much, it would give the others license to set the other aspects in far too biased a manner.

“So now all that’s left is to decide what we all are going to do,” Amalyse said, looking between them all, both her arms resting on the table.

“Stop staring at me.” Rollo looked away as though if Amalyse couldn’t see his face, she would have no reason to face him. “I have no reason to even participate in such foolishness.”

“Even when the Karlosyne are going to be there?”

“Even when your Empress, the one you swore fealty to, commands?” Kalvia asked.

“Would you command me to do something against my will in such a manner?” Rollo fired back.

“Depends on the task. I unfortunately do not have enough information to decide if we need your presence yet, Rollo.” Her eyes hardened. “But if I do find that circumstances require you however I see fit, then I will expect complete obeisance.”

Rollo’s frown was as heavy as thunderclouds. Unforeseen tension zapped the air like electric charge preceding a storm. He had cut himself from his clan, from all the wealth and power and prestige it brought him, because he resented being controlled. And because of how callously they treated their own.

At least, that was as far as Rieren had been able to fathom. It wasn’t like she and Rollo had ever had a heart-to-heart chat.

Though, Amalyse might know. Her friend looked rather conflicted about the whole thing. Maybe she was considering her own oath of fealty, of how Kalvia could compel her to do against her wishes as well.

“We will serve however you best see fit,” Amalyse said when Rollo didn’t reply to Kalvia’s pronouncement. “Your Majesty.”

That did nothing to ease the tension. Not when Amalyse had wielded the honorific like a cudgel. They were fellow disciples of Lionshard, that was true. But there was also a gulf in their class, in their position, and Kalvia had hammered that gulf between them.

Instead of appealing to Rollo as a potential friend and ally, she had been frank about his oath and what it entailed.

Kalvia seemed to realize the same. She closed her eyes for a moment, lowering her face and rubbing her temples. “Astern keeps telling me I need to be firm when I need something from others. That it’s my right, as the Empress.” She looked up and sighed. “I don’t want to make you do anything against your will, but I hope you understand things won’t be easy from here on out.”

“I understand,” Amalyse said. Her voice was a little too quiet, nothing like the brash, loud, and outspoken way it often was. “We went ahead and swore our allegiance before learning what our clans might wish. It isn’t unlikely that we might need to take action that goes against their wishes as well. We might even need to fight against them.”

“I hope such a thing doesn’t come to pass, but I’m afraid it’s definitely a possibility. After all, two powerful clans have no reason to support an upstart bastard in place of the legitimate ruler of the Elderlands.”

Like Amalyse, Kalvia had gone quiet too. For all that she tried to be stubborn, tried to act as unyielding and unstoppable as an Empress ought to be, the sheer scale of the challenge before her was staggering. Rieren had never seen it laid bare on her face like this before, but maybe Amalyse’s admittance of vulnerability had allowed her to open up.

Something Amalyse noted as well. “On the contrary, they have many reasons to support someone who would actually be good for the empire than an Emperor who neglects his subjects.” Amalyse’s eyes grew fierce, her voice regaining its boldness. “Besides, they will think again before going against their own scion and heir. Isn’t that right, Rollo?”

Rollo scoffed. “I’m no heir.” He tutted, shook his head, then sighed. “But she’s right, like usual. The Karlosyne aren’t going to act against me, and by extension, you, Your Majesty, without first taking proper consideration of the situation and all the associated advantages and pitfalls.” He grinned. “After all, you do have us hostage.”

Kalvia looked between the two of them with blinking eyes. Then she laughed, long and loud. “I certainly do. My precious little hostages. I’m not letting you go anytime soon.”

Rieren smiled at the three of them. It was strange how easily the tension had eased away after just a moment of letting their true selves out. She was always so worried about others learning the reality that represented Rieren, the truth of her identity and history.

But look at her friends here. They already knew their pasts. They knew where each of them came from, knew what was driving them along their current paths.

Rieren realized she had never properly vocalized what drove her.

Yet, they accepted her, didn’t they? They were her friends, in truth. Of that, there was no doubt. They would sacrifice themselves for her, to whatever extent was reasonable, as she would for them. As they would all for each other.

But still. None of them knew about the ambition that truly drove her, and only Amalyse had learned about how her father had died after needling the truth of it out of Rieren. Even in this timeline, even after learning the truth of what she had accomplished in the past, she hadn’t interrogated Rieren as to what had carried her all that way.

But then, had she, Rieren, delved so deep into any of their pasts? Into their secret fears and the truths they kept hidden from the rest of them?

They all knew each other well, but was it even possible for them to know any of them inside out? At what stage of knowledge did one call each other friends? Rieren realized she had no line for such a nebulous concept. She got along with people to an extent, acclimatized to their presence enough to spend significant time with them, and at some point, found herself caring.

Such strange routes the formation of friendship took for her. Maybe knowing someone wasn’t what truly drove companionship. Maybe it was just that.

Caring.

“What about you, Rieren?” Amalyse had a mischievous little grin.

“What about me?” Rieren asked.

“Oh, come on. When the tournament starts, what will you be doing? Are you waiting for your chance to take down Essalina Arteroth once and for all? What are you going to do after that?”

“Oh, I’ve got her whole life mapped out,” Kalvia said, sharing Amalyse’s grin. “She’ll become my personal bodyguard.”

Amalyse laughed. “You forgot the emphasis on personal, Your Majesty.”

Kalvia snorted.

Rieren stared between the two of them with one corner of her mouth twitching upwards. “I will see what I want to do when I get there. But I do admit that this tournament offers up a tremendous stage. An opportunity all of us should seek to capitalize on.”

“An opportunity to do what, exactly?” Rollo asked.

Amalyse’s expression turned sly as she leaned towards him. “Oh you care now, is it?”

“Leave me alone, Amalyse.”

“Never.”

Rollo muttered something under his breath, but he didn’t seem properly displeased at the notion.

Rieren cleared her throat. “An opportunity to… well, think about it. One location where all the major powers of the world have gathered. Where we will hold every proper eye in the Elderlands upon us. Kalvia, imagine you had staked your claim to be crowned Empress at the tournament instead of here, in the Shatterlands.”

The future Empress’s eyes widened. “This tournament is world’s greatest stage. One that befits the world’s greatest show.”

“Exactly.”

Their conversation might have gone on and Rieren might have called for more tea, but they were rather rudely interrupted by a messenger Spirit Beast crashing right atop their table. It came to a stop in front of Kalvia. She frowned, picking up the scroll off the Spirit Beast’s back and quickly reading through its contents.

“What is it?” Amalyse asked.

Kalvia looked up once she had finished reading. Her face had gone grave. “The other contingents have sent the rest of the tournament’s rules and it’s… not good. We have to go meet with the Clanmistress. Now. Let’s go.”