Rieren supposed it was nice that her part in Kalvia’s script was small. She wasn’t going to be called upon much. It gave her mind and attention freedom to wander, and to take in the agog faces on all the dignitaries who had gathered here with no small amount of pleasure.

They’d seen Kalvia humbling an Avatar before, of course. This shouldn’t have been anything new. Still. If they’d harboured any doubts that Kalvia lacked proper power to truly be the Empress one day, those doubts were taking quite the blow at this display. It wasn’t often one found an Ascendant-realm cultivator almost bowing and scraping before a much weaker one.

And this Avatar certainly looked humbled. Her mask was cracked, her robes were torn, and she gave the impression that all Essence had been drained from her. Rieren grimaced, recalling the technique Kalvia had used upon her.

Shocked murmurs ran through the little crowd. A thin woman with a horsey face was the only one who voiced the complaints.

“Why hasn’t she been dealt with yet?” she asked. It was like she was looking at a plague-ridden corpse that could infect them all. “The longer we keep her here, the more chance she has to break out and cause us a great deal of harm.”

Kalvia’s smile didn’t slip for a second. “Oh, don’t worry, Lady Demerrah. We have things well in hand. But yes, this is our ticket to the future.”

“I assume you want to make this Avatar instigate actions that cause the northern Archnobles and the imperial clan to become even more hostile towards each other?” Oromin asked.

“Correct.”

“But… how?”

“We have our ways,” Astern said.

Kalvia looked at them all again. “All we must decide is how the Shatterlands will proceed.”

Avathene cleared her throat to redirect attention towards the Clanmistress. “Yes, of course. Though, we are currently still in a state of upheaval and slow recovery. It will be a while before the Shatterlands reaches a position where we can truly offer anything of note to the future Empress.”

“Time is something we do have, fortunately. The world is still on a precipice. As I mentioned, the battle lines are still being drawn slowly, mostly because the monsters are ceaseless in their attempts to take over everything. As such, we have some room to manoeuvre in our hands.”

“Should we even be discussing in front of this Avatar?” Lady Demerrah asked.

Rieren joined the others in looking down at the woman with the broken ceramic mask. She didn’t look like any sort of threat. Far from it, the only favour they would be doing themselves was to remove a half-dead almost-corpse from their presence.

“She’s no threat to us anymore,” Kalvia said. “I’ve seen to it. No more dangerous than a witless Abyssal.”

“Abyssals.” One of the dissidents spat at his feet. That was the man Rieren had fought briefly in her attempt to find and free Silomene. “The Dreadflood might be gone, but we are still struggling against the monsters. We still don’t know if the Aetherians have actually stopped sending down their meteors.”

“Yes, but—”

“We can’t run off to wage war against others when we ourselves are still struggling with the same problem!”

Oromin raised a hand. “Please, Lord Sturmin. We are aware of all the problems we still have to deal with. As the Clanmistress said, we are not yet secure and need some time.”

“Yes, but how and when will we be secure?” His glance jerked away from Oromin to land right on Rieren. “We can’t always count on one person to know the details and fix our problems. Speaking of which, how did you figure all that out and know where to be, Lady Rieren?”

Lady, was she now? Rieren and Kalvia had prepared for this turn of the conversation too, where the Empress had coached her on just what she ought to say.

“I have travelled to the Abyss and the Aether,” Rieren said. They had decided to draw from the provable truth. “My knowledge is based on what I’ve seen and experienced.”

“You went to the Abyss and the Aether?”

“We all do when we cultivate, yes.”

“Not all of us.”

Ah, that was true. Rieren ought to have amended it to those who cultivated and advanced through the realms now would do so. Before the gods had established the system, the Abyss and the Aether hadn’t been as accessible as it was now. No one could simply visit as a spirit while meditating and ascending to higher realms.

As such, older cultivators—which comprised the vast majority of those in power, naturally—didn’t have the same experience Rieren and her contemporaries did.

“How are we to trust that you aren’t an Abyssal as well?” another man asked.

Rieren smiled. They had considered this line of questioning too. Truth be told, she had been an Abyssal not that long ago. It took an effort not to scratch her face again. The artificial circuit of Essence should be active around her head to keep the corrupted Essence at bay.

“There is an item in the System Shop,” she said. “One can use it to verify any trace of corrupted Essence within another person. However, when you use it, it will give you a positive result because, as you have seen, I did visit the Abyss in person. Once cannot undertake such a journey without getting some Abyss-Aspected Essence tagging along.”

That wasn’t wholly true, but there was no time to delve into complexities.

“The point is,” Rieren continued. “Conventional evidence will only lead us in circles. The real proof is in the pudding, no? Take my actions, take my circumstances, take the truth of what I have accomplished, and then judge for yourselves whether you want to think of me as a monster or not.”

“Rieren has saved the Shatterlands multiple times over,” Kalvia said. “Her enemies are the same as ours. We will not be discussing the possibility of her being an Abyssal.”

No one wanted to argue against an Empress. Not when her tone was so final.

Avathene carefully cleared her throat again. “Rieren has my utmost confidence as well. She has proven herself time and again. Let us move on to more pressing matters.”

“Such as handing us back our clan,” the long-faced woman said.

“Handing you your clan?” The dissident Elder Rieren had fought shook his head like a bull trying to clear away flies. “What about abdicating and returning the clans’ reins to those who should truly hold them?”

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That notion was so ridiculous, even the normally reserved Oromin glowered. “Preposterous.”

Kalvia cleared her throat loudly before a proper argument could break free among them. “I laid down the structure of organization, didn’t I? Or are you going against your Empress’s express command?”

“Your Majesty, I beg you to reconsider,” the dissident Elder said. “This will sow further discontent and tear us apart when we need to be more united than ever.”

All Kalvia had done was grant the ultimate leadership of both the Stannerig and the Ordorian clans to Avathene. As the former Clanmistress of the Stannerig clan, the Ordorians were against it. As a Clanmistress who had taken the leadership from her father, the former Clanmasters’ supporters were against it too.

But Kalvia didn’t want clan politics to mar her efforts.

“That was only the beginning,” she said. “I have further organizational matters I intend to propose and wish to see them carried out. And no, before you ask, I don’t intend to favour the Clanmistress just because she harboured me with grace and kindness. The structure of leadership will involve all parties.”

No one really liked that pronouncement, not even Avathene—this wasn’t part of their script—though unlike most of the others, the Clanmistress kept her skepticism to herself. Rieren was simply acute enough to note the way her eyes sharpened.

Kalvia began laying out how she saw the clans operating from here on out. Apparently, while she intended to keep Avathene as the leader of both clans, she was also spreading out the disgruntled Ordorian Elders too. They would be serving just under Avathene, taking part in matters of both their own clan and the Stannerig clan.

“Most positions within the Stannerig clan are full, Your Majesty,” Avathene coolly informed Kalvia. “If there were vacancies, I could perhaps consider it but that is not the case.”

The future Empress wasn’t dissuaded. “We will be creating some vacancies soon enough. For one, with the decreased threat from the Abyssals, we can venture out and reclaim a greater portion of the Shatterlands. This will need oversight from powerful clan members. This oversight must be a joint effort by both Archnoble clans.

“For another, there will come a time where we must campaign against the imperial clan, where we must march all the way to Vanharron. I will need trusty people with me for that. That will result in even more vacancies, which I’m hoping you’ll fill up according to the quota I’ve drawn up.”

Kalvia handed the Clanmistress a little paper she had prepared beforehand. This too wasn’t something she had brought up before. Well, not with Avathene, at least.

“This paper… it is quite involved,” the Clanmistress said.

“Yes. I needed some time to pore over the best formation that would work for everyone with what information I could gather.” She glanced at her retainer for a second. Ah, right. Kalvia had been too busy cultivating to gather anything of note, but she’d always had Astern to do the grunt work for her. “It requires revision from one who knows the Shatterlands better, of course, but it is a good starting point.”

Avathene found nothing in it that she could argue.

“Are we truly going to reclaim the lands?” one of the dissidents asked.

Kalvia smiled with no small amount of ferocity. “We will. Isn’t that right, Rieren?”

Rieren nodded. “I have it on good authority that the Dreadflood’s departure will demoralize the monsters, and that its path of destruction will rush through several Abyssal-infested areas that we can then reclaim.”

They all stared at her. The old wounds itched, the old paranoia screamed. Even Avathene was staring. Rieren hadn’t gotten the time to tell the Clanmistress everything as she had done to Kalvia after returning to the Mortal Realm.

But Kalvia had insisted the truth was necessary. As close to the truth as possible. Well, Rieren wasn’t about to back out now. She was the master of herself, not her paranoia.

“How in the world could you know that?” someone else in the group asked.

“Because that is Rieren Vallorne.”

They all stared down again. The Avatar had finally raised her head, enough for Rieren to see the dark eyes burning with zeal through the crack in her mask.

“Who is she?” the dissident Elder asked. He stared at her with no small amount of concern. “I remember fighting you. You’re skilled, no doubt, and powerful. But you are still a mere girl. Barely in the Enlightened realm.” He frowned. “No, a little stronger now, aren’t you? You’ve grown quickly.”

“She is the one who causes this,” the Avatar said, his voice taking on a vicious cast. “All of this.”

A murmur of unease travelled through the little crowd. Rieren only smiled. The Avatar’s expression was hidden behind her mask, but the way her shoulder drooped at Rieren’s reaction made it all the more worth it.

“Yes, I am the one who made all this happen,” she said.

It was a long story, but Rieren had decided to hold only the most sensitive information back where needed. She explained her role in fighting against the gods, how she had made it all the way to the Celestial Realm in the last timeline, how they had been targeting her ever since, how her efforts were what had granted everyone the System and reverted time itself.

It was a gamble, no doubt. Letting the greater truth be known to everyone—for it was surely going to spread far and wide—could have terrible consequences.

But there were two positives that enticed Rieren to go through with it. For one, the revelation of her true accomplishments, of her knowledge, of her identity, would all make the case of Kalvia being the next Empress that much stronger by dint of being supported by someone like Rieren.

For another, it would greatly raise Rieren’s own fame. She needed her name to spread far and wide, needed her own renown to grow, to get through the Exalted realm.

In fact, the difficulties she had experienced in her past life in doing the same had been one of the things that was propelling her to get a head start in this timeline. Back then, she’d been forced to take unsavoury risks and go out of her way to become well-known enough to advance through the Exalted realm.

“That… is insane.” The dissident Elder shook his head, though this time, there was less belligerence and more disbelief. “You can’t have done all that.”

“Believe what you wish. But if you have questions about the gods themselves or what they intend, then I might just have the answer to some of them.”

“Questions!” Lord Sturmin looked much like his namesake—storming. “Oh, I have many questions. Are all the gods sitting in the imperial court at Vanharron? Can you—as in, is it possible to kill them? And then there’s the Banishedborn. They’re prowling even within the Shatterlands. We need—”

“We do not have the time to waste on questioning Rieren about matters that do not concern us right this moment, Lord Sturmin,” Avathene said, gently but firmly. “If there is time, perhaps she will deign to answer your queries later.”

“Fine then. What do you propose?”

“A plan of action.” Avathene exchanged a short nod with Kalvia. “Developed in accordance with the Emperess’s wishes.”

She went on to state the course the Shatterlands would take from that point on. There was a list of priorities that included reclaiming the land from the Abyssals and re-inhabiting the recovered areas, setting up fortifications and getting ready for an extended campaign, and the consolidation of resources and materials. In other words, the Shatterlands was preparing for war.

Rieren smiled. They had planned the script to ensure that Rieren’s reveal would throw all the other attendees of this meeting off their own gameplans. This allowed Avathene to mould them more easily to her own plans. Rieren was only too happy to help.

She didn’t have much of a head for all the minutiae involved. While Kalvia needed to remain in the pavilions and prove her administrative prowess, Rieren eventually excused herself to accompany Astern and take the captive Avatar away. She was glad to be free of the pavilion’s stifling confines.

“You did well,” Astern said. He was prodding the Avatar to keep walking ahead of them with a thin stick.

Rieren nodded in gratitude. “As did you.”

A brief smile glimmered on the retainer’s face before returning to smooth neutrality. “Are you truly who you say you are or… is that an act too?”

“Do you doubt me?”

“I doubt everything.”

“Hmm. Do you doubt that you have two children, an older boy and a younger girl, and that your wife is bedridden with illness?”

He stopped short. Then he kept moving, his smile turning into a mirthless laugh this time. “I see. You recall your past to such an acute degree. I didn’t know my family matters were so noteworthy back then.”

“It took me a while, but I finally remembered who you are.”

He glanced sidelong at her with a raised eyebrow. “Oh? How so?”

Rieren’s hand involuntarily gripped her sword, even as she pulled the other one away from playing with her own face. “I did not recognize you at first. You keep that thick beard to ward off others from making similar guesses about your real identity. But the way you walk and talk is familiar. The way you act… I have seen that before.”

“You’ve seen me before?”

She shook her head. “Not you, exactly. Something close. The details I learned were from a… third-party, of sorts. I never spied upon you or your family, or even encountered them, to be honest. I have only heard about them.”

“Heard? You’re making me more and more intrigued.”

“He used to talk about you, sometimes. He mentioned you more than once. I could not help but remember, mostly because of the regrets.” Rieren took a deep breath. “Of his regrets.”

Astern’s face had fallen as the conversation had gone on. Now he looked morose too, though his attention upon their captive hadn’t wavered. “Regrets, is it?”

“Yes. The Forborne Emperor always wished he was closer to his half-brother.”