Rieren stared. She perhaps ought to be thankful that she could stare. The intensity of the light in the centre of the ritual had decreased enough.

The Emperor looked almost nothing like what she had known him to be. His face had a porcelain white beard covering his normal brown face, his hair the same colour and twisted as it extended to a long length. He didn’t wear the same imperial robes that Astern had been dressed in. His garb was closer in resemblance to what Naivel had worn in that fight against her—a breastplate of pure gold with a white underrobe and sleeves with gold cuffs.

It was his weapon that Rieren realized was completely new. A staff of pure silver, tipped with tiny points of gold. There was no blade on it. Nothing to cut or poke or slice.

The Forborne Emperor looked confused for a moment. He blinked as if he had just woken up from a doze.

“Sire.” The new Banishedborn threw himself to his knees at the old Emperor’s feet. “You have arrived to grace us with your presence.”

The former Forborne Emperor looked down like an ant had landed upon his pristine robes. “What?”

“Do you not see, Great One?” The Banishedborn pointed around himself. “Look around you. See the filth that you have been pulled down to. This is not you. This is not where you belong. But this is what they would all have of you. Alone, by yourself, you have been forced down to these blasted lands again.”

“What do you mean? Speak clearly.”

“Please, take a look around yourself. Look at what you’ve been pulled down to. Your old home. Your old self. But this does not need to remain in this fashion. I will assist you now. I will make sure that such a thing never transpires—”

The Forborne Emperor swiped his hand almost lazily to the right.

Even if he had only struck the new Banishedborn, Rieren felt the blow even where she stood. Like with his arrival, she was once more thrown off her feet, sent tumbling over and over until she came to a stop against a tree at least twenty paces away from where she had been a second ago. The figures looked even smaller now. Her ears rang, her head a little woozy.

But if the old Emperor’s blow had been bad for her, for the former Clanmaster, it had been devastating.

Half his chest had simply crumbled at the god’s touch. He had been thrown back so hard that the other half of his body was buried inside a crack in the ground. If he had been a mortal, Rieren would have pronounced him dead on the spot. As it was, his state as a Banishedborn gave him a far greater level of resilience.

No doubt he was still alive, if in extreme pain and perhaps regretting the sequence of events that had led to his current circumstance.

“You speak without saying anything,” the Forborne Emperor said. His eyes flashed pure gold, like molten metal poured into his orbits. “Next time, when you open your mouth, say something of substance or perish utterly.”

He froze as he finished talking. Rieren groaned a little as she got to her feet. She shook her head. He shouldn’t have acted out in that manner. Didn’t he realize that he was a god now?

That there were restrictions for divine beings who entered the Mortal realm again?

It was what the enemy Banishedborn were no doubt counting on. Anyone who had reached the Primordial realm of cultivation always ascended to the Celestial Realm, no longer able to return to the Mortal Relam directly under most circumstances. One of the few exceptions was being pulled down by force by other entities.

But even then, the system itself set a powerful restriction on Primordial-realm cultivators in the Mortal Realm. Any use of any Essence from them resulted in a spiritual lock.

Well, perhaps she ought not to think of it in terms of the system. This was older. An immutable law of the universe. Fate itself conspired against those who intended to use their overwhelming power in a realm they did not belong to.

In fact, Rieren started to realize it was something very similar to what had happened to her meridians when she had turned into an Arisen. The difference was that it went a level deeper. Where she had been stopped from advancing using Essence, the Emperor would be restricted from even cycling Essence. All his power, simply frozen away from his grasp.

The old Emperor fell to his knees as fate’s restriction took hold. Black-edged red light spung to life around him in a crackling wash. It burned on him like he had been set aflame.

Then he raised his head and found her.

“You…” he whispered. “Arianaele.”

Rieren froze where she stood. He recognized her. Even after all her changes, even after everything she had gone through, he knew her. She shook her head a little. How he knew her wasn’t a question that needed answering for he was a god now. His sight went beyond the simple, superficial recognition most others were relegated to.

For a second, Rieren almost felt like helping. Whatever else he deserved, whatever he might have done, he didn’t deserve something like this. He shouldn’t need to suffer.

Plus, he had made that prattling idiot of a Banishedborn shut up too.

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But the plan. She had aligned herself with Starloper’s plan. And that required her to steel her heart and stay still. Besides, she wouldn’t have been able to assist anyway. The Abyss was she going to do against fate itself? Douse him with water? That wasn’t real fire.

And then the other Banishedborn appeared. It was probably a good thing Rieren had been thrown so far away. The newcomers didn’t see her when they arrived, didn’t even sense her against the background of all the other cultivators in the area, every single one of whom was beneath their notice.

First to arrive was Essastior. Blood-red lightning sparked to life in the ruptured heavens. Several bolts hammered down to strike the earth, coalescing at a single point and resolved into the figure of a gigantic bird. Rieren had been forced to turn her head away at the brilliance of the lightning, but once it dissipated, she saw the red-plumaged bird turn into a humanoid figure.

Essastior wasn’t looking at her. He didn’t even care that the old Emperor’s glance wasn’t pointed at the Banishedborn who had just arrive. All he did was stare down at his prey.

His immobilized, helpless target.

The others came in next. Space twisted and broke apart a few paces away to reveal a lightless void. Tatters of darkness seeped out to give rise to a shadowy figure. A pale, thin face bloomed from within the murky cloak, eyes glinting like amethysts. Golvor.

A small animal scurried into the area too, more fearless than any creature of its kind had any right to be. Rieren was too far away to tell what exact kind of animal that was, maybe a squirrel, but it didn’t remain a beast for long. It contorted, much like the giant bird had done a moment ago, to reveal a gigantic, beastly man standing head and shoulders over the other Banishedborn. Avel.

And last, one that made Rieren’s breath turn sharp in her chest, was the Avatar who had accosted them moments ago.

For a heartbeat, Rieren wondered if one of the Banishedborn had been masquerading as a Masked Avatar all this while. That didn’t feel right. Especially because the Avatar was gravely wounded, blood pouring out from a gory injury at her guts.

She staggered a few steps close to the area, almost like she wanted to help the old Emperor with her dying breath, but then she exploded. Flesh and blood and bits of organs and bones went flying everywhere. Rieren cringed away a little, but even she was struck with a few daubs of blood.

Where the Avatar had been now stood a woman in pristine white. Long silver hair wound down over one shoulder, blue horns jutting out from the back of her head and her shoulders. Emrith.

Rieren waited, heart pounding a little. She was far enough away from them to not be sensed or seen. That wasn’t what worried her. What did bother her was the fact that there were only four of them. Just four Banishedborn had appeared in an instant after the Emperor had fallen to his knees. More. She knew for a fact there were more, even in the imperial court.

So, where were they? Did they think just four of them would be enough to take down a fallen god? It wasn’t impossible. But ideally, they needed as many Banishedborn packed into one area as possible. Starloper’s plan hinged on taking out as many of them at once as they could.

Rieren was tempted to curse. This was bad. Should Starloper act now and take out the Banishedborn who were here, or was he going to wait to see if more arrived?

Waiting was dangerous. Risky. The Banishedborn might end up killing their target too easily and then they’d lose the opportunity to take out even the ones who were here. Relying on the hope that they would fail to execute the Forborne Emperor so more of them would show up was a fool’s task.

“This is all of him?” Emrith asked.

Essastior snorted. “What did you expect? Maybe a huge tail? Or perhaps horns like the ones you possess? I will have you know he went from a regular mortal at the Fated realm straight to the Primordial realm.”

Emrith’s disgust could be sensed from even where Rieren stood. “So pedestrian.”

“What did you expect from an upstart?”

“At least that other one had some oomph and swashbuckling to her name,” Avel said with a grunt. “Had fun against that one.”

Essastior made his voice small and teasing. “Even when she killed you?”

Avel wasn’t embarrassed. “Even when I died. I went out with my pride intact.” He shot a judging glance around him. “More than I can say for some of you.”

Rieren shook her head. It was a little wild to be in such a position and listen to them talking about her.

“Enough!” Golvor stepped forward. Or perhaps floated forward. Rieren certainly couldn’t see any feet under that shadowy cloak and he didn’t move like he was walking. “Let’s kill this upstart and be done with it.”

“Why are you in such a hurry, Golvor?” Essastior asked. “For all that he’s an upstart, he still is a god. He won’t fall that easily, sadly.”

“I agree with Golvor,” Emrith asked. “The longer I remain in the presence of such mediocrity, the more I feel tainted. I don’t want to take another seven-month long bath, thank you very much.”

Essastior laughed. “So be it, then. Let us end this.”

The old Forborne Emperor was clearly struggling against the binds fate itself had placed upon him. But the restriction held so fast and tight, it almost appeared he was doing nothing at all. The black-red fire still burned upon him ceaselessly. Rieren just had to see into his eyes to see how they were crinkled up in concentration. He wanted to be free.

It hurt her heart again, but she mastered her feelings. He had died in the last timeline. It wasn’t like she hadn’t dealt with this before. This loss. This tragedy. The death of someone she might have called a true friend on other circumstances.

If only he had told her his plans. If only—but that was a fool’s task too. What sort of Emperor would go and find some girl in some backwater sect? Idiotic line of thought.

But it was regrettable all the same.

Belatedly, she realized this might have been easier if she had still been a monster. She certainly wouldn’t have struggled against her emotions in such a manner. But that wasn’t worth it. Never worth it. She might have gained a better understanding and appreciation of the monsters she had come to know, but that didn’t justify shuttering away the full expression of her spirit.

Rieren’s heart stuttered for a very different matter too. The clock was ticking. Was Starloper going to act or not? It was now, or possibly never. Their greatest chance—

Starloper committed.

Just as the Banishedborn reached the old Forborne Emperor, the Anchor blinked. It had flashed so brightly that they all turned to it. It blinked again. Then it expanded.

The expansion was instantaneous. There was no time for anyone to react. Rieren was certain not even the Forborne Emperor with all his godly speed and prowess would have been able to do a thing about it.

One instant, she was watching the Banishedborn stand before the old Emperor. The next, the Anchor’s exterior, translucent, and prismatic body had turned several times its original size. It was so big now that Rieren’s breath misted on its crystalline surface.

And within its crystal lattice, all the Banishedborn were frozen solid.

They couldn’t move, couldn’t use any of their powers. Then the crystal prison started cracking. Fissures snaked through its interior, needling into its captives. Blood of various colours spurted out before freezing as well wherever the cracks hit the Banishedborn.

Rieren could barely believe it. They were actually being held. The Banishedborn—all-powerful, Fated-realm cultivators—were as helplessly imprisoned as the Emperor in his fated binds.