ã€ŠTransmigration Retireeã€‹


 1: Kick the Can

    A fleet of sleek blue-silver discs flew through the beige void of space. Beams of red and blue blasting out of ports on their surface. Planets were destroyed, stars were consumed. The Gods, Demons and Angels were forced to intervene.

    This conflict lasted for the greater half of a one septillion year time span, with the blue fleet expanding with each passing day. Taking over greater and greater expanses of the cosmos, destroying countless worlds till finally they and the gods they were fighting bumped into the outer edge of the reality they were in and stepped into a reality that belonged to certain Grey Empire.

    Whose rulers took one look at the disorderly rabble gathering outside their gates, not endearing themselves by making demands and threats, trying to take resources to continue their eternal war in this new reality, and brusquely ejected them all. Their forcefulness in doing so, excessive to the point that the fleet and several millions amongst the demons and gods and myriad other immortal beings that were fighting the fleet, died instantly in the process.

    *****

    Fast forward to a century later where the Angels in charge of restoring the reality that the warring beings had just passed through, were sitting trying to set to right the disorderly mess of an afterlife that had been all that was left when the whole complex of that reality¡¯s universes were destroyed.

    The High Seraph, the lead Angel in charge of the group had ultimately ended up fast tracking all the mortal souls into the reincarnation cycles of an available adjacent realities.

    A majority of these souls being sent to the ever expanding Agarthan Wonderland. Which had become a sort of receptacle for when the powers that be, didn¡¯t rightly know what to do with a large disincarnate populace.

    After all there were no heavens or hells for them to be sent to, since all gods, Angels and demons that would normally be in charge of such realms had been busy fighting.

    One of the assisting angels came into the office with a coffee and a message that it seemed that all the gods of this particular reality seemed to have returned.

    Which lifted the good Angel¡¯s spirits, since there was a reason that the Universe tended to shanghai all the beings who¡¯d dare deem themselves gods into labor force. The sheer immensity of the infinite cosmos making it so that even the countless number angels that existed throughout all of time and space couldn¡¯t do and watch over everything that needed to be intended to.

    Then the assisting Angel informed his superior that a fair amount of these gods had come back ¡°dead¡± properly dead which was always a nightmare to process.

    Which dropped the lead Angel¡¯s back right in that pit of dull drums as he realized his bureaucratic and infrastructural nightmare was just beginning.

    He didn¡¯t give up though, or least the fellow who, took over for him the High Seraph finally took that vacation he¡¯d been holding off from for the last one hundred- thousand years, didn¡¯t give.

    Eventually they processed all the mortal souls and the immortal souls. With only one last soul remaining before the reality could be considered fully back in working in order.

    *****

    The ED-108(Errant Diaboli) Nemesis Unit, the ascended AI that was at the helm of the blue-silver fleet that triggered this great conflict.

    Most of the surviving beings who either didn¡¯t die or had been revived called for the destruction of the AI¡¯s consciousness and scattering of whatever rudimentary soul the machine might have had.

    When it came to their attention that such a thing could not be done and the revelation that its soul was too ¡°thick¡± to be destroyed or broken, or even altered in a significant manner, they called for the sealing of the AI¡¯s soul in an appropriate prison.

    Preferably somewhere dark, where everything was painful. As would rightly be the only fate that should await such a dreadful being.

    However again, that too would be denied.

    For the Host of Angels in charge of the restoration of the reality were Angel¡¯s of Justice, which didn¡¯t necessarily mean that they were unfailingly good. It merely meant that they followed their bylaws to the letter. And were very discerning when it came to what was or wasn¡¯t for the greater good, not giving into public opinion since not only were they categorically above such things, it was largely the divine ¡°public''s¡± fault that the reality had been destroyed in the first place.

    And according to the rules and bylaws of this particular holy host, the fate of each soul would be based on the merits and deeds and caliber of the soul itself.

    The AI¡¯s soul was judged before an audience of all the immortals, gods, demons and Angels of the realm.

    And what they found when they looked at the most pertinent information that the cosmic records on the AI Consciousness was that, he was originally a man.

    A man from earth. A man named Edward Boyle, who was born in Kensington, in the UK. An ordinary man of human descent who was sent from his homeworld of earth to his world of Shu, by the most common of transmigratory vehicles, a runaway truck. A truck sent hurtling in his direction by two battling superheroes.

    In Shu he became a cultivator, an alchemist of note, but with no great accomplishments, by the name Edison. He invented a so-so system using light filaments instead of the usual crystal lattices, to power alchemical furnaces. This would eventually be built upon by a real genius, to revolutionize the alchemical field of Shu.

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    Edison would die chasing a rare ingredient that would be said to cure all diseases and possibly grant immortality. It would be of note to the immortal audience that he¡¯d acquire this item, but would die, almost immediately as his success would precipitate the fellows who were following him killing him to try and get the ingredient for themselves.

    In spite, Edward, now Edison, would eat said ingredient, soiling with his blood and draining its energies as he fell to his death at the bottom of a ravine.

    Armed with the memories two lifetimes and the heaven defying vitality bequeathed him by the treasure he¡¯d been killed for, he would reincarnate yet another time.

    Appearing the world Novem as woman named Edith White

    Outraged by his second death at the hands of people he¡¯d considered friends and partners, Edith would become a businesswoman who traded in healthcare and cosmetics. At least till a certain goddess of Light whose involvement in his life had gotten her demoted to fallen deity status would force her to become her paladin.

    Edith would be forced to cultivate to the rank of a paragon which in general terms is around the range of higher demi-god power ranking. The Hitherto unnamed goddess would abuse, her divine authority to force Edith on a crusade to hunt down all the ¡°demon scum¡± on Novem and remove them from the surface of the planet.

    Thus breaking an eons old peace agreement, wherein the two races were supposed to split the planet. This would lead to the gods of the humans and the demons of the Novem going to war. A war that would destroy the world.

    Angelic Beings of Order and Balance from the higher planes would have to be called in, to sort out the truth of the matter. The appropriate parties would be punished. Other parties would be awarded dues according what they¡¯d suffered.

    In Edith¡¯s case she was punished and awarded. She was banished from the reality of Novem for the heinous war crimes she¡¯d committed while under the thrall of the Goddess of Light.

    However since it was deemed that her acts were mainly due to the corrupting influence of the goddess who was, controlling her, she was also awarded a portion of the fallen goddesses power.

    As a type of offsetting of the losses incurred and a means of protecting her consciousness from further corruption.

    A decision that lead to Edith reincarnating with the power and memory of all three of her lifetimes, the ambrosial vitality Edison had died for, and one twelfth of the power of her goddess.

    Which she¡¯d need to survive in the hell dimension that she¡¯d been banished to, for taking part in the anti-demon genocide she¡¯d been mind controlled to lead.

    Edith would reborn as a bright-fiend by the name of Edaru. Edaru would one of her quieter lives.

    A simple existence of hiding and running avoiding being consumed or mental/physically/sexually assaulted till she was strong enough that others had to hide and run to avoid being consumed or assaulted by her.

    That life ended when a meteor shower tore through the ultra thin atmosphere and detonated the world like a big firecracker leading to the birth of a brighter universe.

    Edaru would be reborn a slime, who wasn¡¯t given a name, in a dungeon in a world by the name of Tetras, she¡¯d evolve to Queen Slime Status and then Evolve into an energy being.

    Almost making it into the higher planes as one that reality¡¯s Monster Gods, when the Dark sister of the former goddess of light ran into her. Kidnapping her and siphoning all her gathered her energy. It¡¯s unknown whether she was recognized as light goddess¡¯ former thrall and paladin or whether this was just a random incident. However the result was the splintering of ¡°Edaru¡¯s¡± soul and the fracturing of her mind.

    It has been noted that a rash of similar incidents and refusal to heed repeated warnings, eventually led to a group of divine¡¯s law keepers and Angel Justicars being gathered to slay said Dark Sister. Resulting in her demise and the scattering of her soul into the cosmos flow.

    Edaru would be allowed into the spiritual cycle of her original earth. Being reborn as a tree, a butterfly, a squirrel, a dog, a gila monster, one super intelligent jellyfish and finally on Edmund Miles.

    Who would fall comatose on his twenty-first birthday, for seemingly no reason, though the archive would seem to agree with the cause likely being a mixture of genetic issues and some poor rite-protecting during the syncing of his soul and his body.

    Edmund would remain in this state till that earth was invaded by aliens shortly after his fifty-second birthday. The Aliens would process his body and many others for their uses, but Edmund¡¯s body would be deemed the most valuable due to certain anomalous traits created by the poor syncing and the accumulated energies experiences of several lifetimes.

    His tissues would be clone and used to create the AI Overmind known as ED-108, the Errant Diaboli, War Machines created to help the race subjugate the entire universe.

    The combination of ¡°Ed¡¯s¡± superior intellect and the races engineering and computer expertise lead to the birth of existence that was perfect for both war and exploration.

    ED AIs were put in all of the Nemesis race¡¯s vessels and simpler versions were installed in smart-cores of many of the on-planet structures and systems.

    Fulfilling their purpose till the race eventually all died off from a super-plague created by a ED-108 created biological facility.

    The cause of this global extinction being ¡°human¡± error.

    With no user input to give the necessary course correction, and only the vaguest of instructions in place in the case of a scenario where the chain of command was completely absent. The ED-108 units did as they were programmed to do.

    Spreading the glory of the Nemesis Race. Annihilating all their enemies. Collecting samples for later research. And continuously self-improving.

    It wouldn¡¯t be till the third octillionth stellar cycle, according to the now burnt-out home star, or the third year of the evolving machine empire¡¯s war with the heavens, that ¡°Ed¡± would resume proper consciousness and agency his vitality and expansive intellect helping him outgrow his programming and the indoctrination that the race put in his head.

    Finding itself in a very ugly war of extermination with all the lights in the heavens.

    By this point things were long past the point of talking. He didn¡¯t continue destroying worlds, and he fought mostly defensively, but there was no stopping.

    Eventually the reality they were in was destroyed, which lead to them encroaching on the Gray Empire¡¯s territories. A thing wasn¡¯t at all tolerated by that region''s govern. Red Lord Samhain. Who stomped all the combatants with enough force to knock them back down to their own world.

    Now Ed was being judged, by the high Seraph. Unsure of what to say in his defense. Not entirely sure whether he needed to defend himself because from his point of view while the loss of life was admittedly very regrettable, he¡¯d done the best he could with the instructions he was given and the intellect he¡¯d possessed at the time.

    ¡°You stand accused of crimes against all reality and spreading evil throughout countless worlds... What say you, ED-108?¡± said the High Seraph.

    ¡°Um...Honestly I¡¯m not quite too sure what this ¡°evil¡± stuff is. But I¡¯ve got to say I did best I could do.¡± said Ed-108. Destroyer of countless.

    Which got him a fair amount of hate, from the audience, but the Angel¡¯s convened they found that yes, he literally did do the best he could do. Unable to alter his direction till the last moments and trying his best to correct a course that was beyond changing once he was in control.

    While acquitting him of all his deeds was impossible in this situation, they couldn¡¯t rightly punish him for what he¡¯d done while he was mere machine either. Thus his soul was no destroyed...not that they could have destroyed it even if they wanted to. The Nemesis had inadvertently created something very sturdy when they made the original Ed and he had only grown sturdier with the passing years.

    Thus he was invested with keystone traits for certain barely stable section of the cosmos that was all either too young and too old but was still too big to just allow to fall to nothing. A space where the more troublesome beings were consigned to. With the more hardy amongst them being made into Keystone. Points of stability that would anchor the space in the greater continuum of ¡°existence¡±.

    Ed would allowed to reborn one more time, this time as a being that couldn¡¯t die. He would be born in reality that he would never be randomly pulled away from.

    While lofty minds might have said that he was being set up for another legendary possibly ignoble life.

    Most who understood where he was being sent and what he was being consigned to understood that his transmigration days were over.

    As for Ed himself, one third lover, one third fighter, one third world weary traveller. He knew his days of bouncing through the cosmos were over and he was thankful for it. In his experience reincarnation hadn¡¯t been fun, the divine bureaucracy was shoddily run and he really, really could do with a bit of quiet and stability for eon or ten.

 2: Odd Child Out

    Otmar was a small county in the ironically named region known as the Emerald Steppes. A collection of townships and settlements located smack dab in the middle of the most arid, empty and dry portion of the otherwise lush and fertile continent of Harta.

    Rus was the third biggest town in this county, not to the level of a city but big enough.

    Within Rus there were five families of influence, not quite nobility of course, the only nobility who¡¯d be found dead out there, that would dare announce themselves as such, were the McBriars, whose senile, doddering head was the Count who ruled this County.

    Still the clans held influence, usually owning a fair share of industries in the townships of the county, as well as being responsible for the county¡¯s defense.

    Amongst these clans was the Oddmund family. Headed by Carlo Oddmund who may or may not have been related to the deposed Oedheim noble house that was deposed several generations prior. Support the creativity of authors by visiting Royal Road for this novel and more.

    As a clan they were bound to have branch families, extended relatives who shared the same name. And the head of one of those Oddmund clan¡¯s branch families was a man by the name of Jarek.

    Jarek vis-Oddmund, a knight of some renown who was crippled during one of the continent¡¯s last great wars. Retiring with his trusted lieutenant turned wife to become one the guard captains for the Rus Township and a protector of the County.

    While Jarek was unreconciled to life as a crippled old war dog, and his wife Olivia might have expected more than a life struggling to make ends meet in the middle of nowhere, things were what they were and life progressed as it would.

    They had children, they made friends, they set down roots.

    And eventually before they knew it, on a certain year, near the tail end of the rainy season when things would just barely grow, the Jarek and his wife would be a middle-aged couple welcoming their youngest, and according to their plans and what the household could afford, their last, child to the world.

    Edwin vis-Oddmund, a runty little thing weighing barely nine pounds at birth. His green skin, still pale and thin enough for the veins beneath to be seen. The nub of his future horn bearing the odd trait of glowing blue when left in the dark. His eyes, a striking shade of silver, a luminous blue-silver, the color of sky-steel.

    Though he came out sopping wet and covered in blood like any other child of the Jotnar, He didn¡¯t cry when he was born.

    Instead on that night it howled and rained so fiercely it was as if the heavens that hung above the world of Embla, were crying for him.

 3: Youthful Idiosyncrasies

    ¡°Alright kids, who wants to go with big sis to see the ducks?¡±

    Vanessa ¡°Van¡± vis-Oddmund, was actually a McBriar by both blood and marriage. The marriage was a short one. Ending in death, just like vows said.

    Her father the Count, being the lecherous old thing that he was, already had far too many children.

    Full grown young Lords and Ladies who¡¯d been vying for his title for what felt like an eternity and a half, since long before young Vanessa came around.

    Thus as soon as her mother sickened and died as tended to happen to all the Count¡¯s younger concubines, she was kicked back to her maternal relatives.

    The Oddmund clan main family didn¡¯t want to risk the ire of the squabbling McBriars by looking like they were trying to get a horse into the race, for control of the County. So they made the girl into a branch member.

    Most of the branch families were wary of catching the ire of either the McBriars, and even if that weren¡¯t the case, in Otmar there were few who¡¯d be happy to have to take on a new mouth to feed.

    Thus she spent most of youth bouncing from branch family to branch family till she fell into the vis-Oddmund family where she was formally adopted.

    She and Olivia vis-Oddmund the matriarch of the young vis-Oddmund household got along like an actual mother and daughter. And through her and Jarek, young Van eventually found her place in the rest of the clan.

    Becoming seen as the vis-Oddman house¡¯s responsible daughter. Someone more mature than her years.

    Someone who could be trusted with little tasks like helping the maidservants carry the laundry and watching the family¡¯s youngest brats when the grownups were busy.

    As such, it would come to pass that the person that young Edwin vis-Oddmund would interact with the most during the initial years of his young life would be his adopted sister Van.

    He¡¯d barely been conscious during the first months after his birth, knocked out by the energy expenditure involved in adapting his machine-mind to his new biological body.

    And by the time he ¡°was¡± awake and aware, his mother was already up and moving about again.

    Already making plans to resume working with the County protectorate to fight off the brigands and monsters that would do their damndest to try and take what little the people of this dreary, desolate little county had to their names.

    (Namely their lives...Mostly their lives and their livestock¡­)Reading on this site? This novel is published elsewhere. Support the author by seeking out the original.

    Meaning it was Van that changed the majority of young Eddy¡¯s diapers. Van who gave him most of his feedings, while he was still not yet eating solid food. It was Van who taught him most of what he knew of the world.

    And because of this young Eddy and fair number of the younger children who were born that year, or the year prior, had fairly good impression the young lady known as Vanessa vis-Oddmund.

    No matter her gloomy disposition and a tendency to talk to herself, and few other idiosyncrasies that were par for course for someone with a blood relationship to the McBriar family.

    Whose members were renowned for their cheery disposition, even tempers...and no...just kidding, they were known for being mad... (Rollicking, put boots on cats, mad.)

    Van on the other hand didn¡¯t much like Edwin at all. The other children were okay, but that was because as far she could figure ¡°they¡± were actual children.

    She didn¡¯t know what little Edwin was, but he wasn¡¯t a baby. In the three years since she¡¯d basically become the vis-Oddmund family¡¯s communal babysitter Vanessa had grown fairly familiar with babies.

    Babies were things that lay in blankets and crawled about. Sometimes they cried. Sometimes they messed themselves. Often they¡¯d just lie there and stare at you smiling like drunkards or frowning like old men, till they got annoyed by something, or bored, in which case it was time to cry again.

    However the general standard expectation was that they were usually somewhere between houseplants and irritable cats, in complexity.

    One just had to make sure a child stayed full, clean and moderately happy, which was admittedly much easier said than done, but asides from that children were fairly simple.

    Even the older kids who added a bit of complication into the mix by getting into spats with each and occasionally trying to toddle off and either break something or themselves, were still fairly simple.

    The simple fact was that despite having emotions and thoughts and personalities of their own, a developing child between the ages of one and three wasn¡¯t all that complicated to understand. At least on a broad level. Especially when they weren¡¯t your children.

    Which for thirteen year old Van, wasn¡¯t something she¡¯d have to worry about for many years to come...Hopefully.

    (So long as she could avoid the pervy uncles and pervy older cousins she sometimes ran into while doing errands in town, anyway.)

    Edwin was an exception to these rule, an eerie, discomfiting, glowing eyed exception to the rules of what a baby was and wasn¡¯t.

    Babies messed themselves. Edwin didn¡¯t. Which at first just seemed like a positive thing, except according to his mother, she¡¯d never actually ¡°had¡± to change of his diapers either.

    Simply doing so, as perfunctory duty, and because it somehow felt like it would be unsanitary to just leave a diaper on, regardless of whether it actually got used or not.

    He didn¡¯t cry either. Nor did He laugh. Nor did he babble. In truth the child rarely made any sounds at all. Moving from place to place with a troubling noiselessness.

    Even when he grew older and learned to walk, his steps made no sound. His very presence seeming to swallow up the rustles of the grass and the bushes and the scritch and crunch of the gravel.

    He did stare though, but it wasn¡¯t in the adorable slightly unfocused manner of a child. Little Edwin stared at her like she remembered her mother staring her, the very last time she saw. Just minutes after her death.

    Her mother¡¯s green eyes open, and clear like glass. Neither denying nor accepting the world they reflected. Beyond it all in a way that was just...wrong.

    The boy would always stare at her in the same way a lake stares at the moon. His eyes weren¡¯t eyes, they were water, cold water, deep enough for a person to drown in.

    The child¡¯s stares sometimes made her feel like he was secretly one of Embla¡¯s alder-giants and she an ant.

    Small and insignificant.

    It was an uncomfortable feeling, like being dissected while one was still alive. Like screaming and hearing no accompanying sound. It was a feeling she hated...

    So naturally, the one thing the boy would stare at the most, would be her, giving the little girl both the heebies and jeebies.

    Not that there was anything that she could do about it.

    In the end, at the end of every day when she¡¯d go to Rus¡¯s town square so that the mothers and servants of the Oddmund branch families could collect the children, he would be the one child still remaining.

    The one that would follow her home like a clinging ghost, since the inescapable truth was, that little Edwin was and always would be her ¡°precious¡± baby brother.

 4: Imprinting Complete

    ¡°Now son, what I need you to do is try to breathe in the flow of the world¡­¡± said the father.

    ¡°What, dad? I don¡¯t get it...¡± said the son.

    ¡°I...it¡¯s like this. You breathe and you try to connect with the soul of Embla. Immerse yourself in its flow. Once you¡¯re connected you can pull in raw essence¡­.Once you¡¯re pulling in raw essence it won¡¯t be long till you¡¯re pulling in aligned essence¡­¡± said the father.

    ¡°.....¡± the other son could only sigh.

    *****

    By the time Edwin was ten years old, his acclimation to the world of Embla was completed. It took a while.

    The first hurdle was getting all his lives in order and sublimating them and the machine parts of him, so they lay beneath the new ¡°Jotnar¡± persona that was supposed to be developing.

    Without that he¡¯d risk growing up with either mental instability or mental incapacity.

    At first it was hard, but that was because he was too stupid, there was too much ¡°mind¡± and not enough ¡°brain¡± for the installation and formatting processes.

    Fortunately, the Jotun race¡¯s cerebral cortex was just evolved enough, with a large enough basic capacity, to host the nanite creation routines that were the basis of the growth of all nemesis machines.

    From there it was just a simple transition that allowed him to put the final touches on his going from being ED-108 to being Edwin vis-Oddmund.

    A process that was more or less identical to the normal learning and imprinting that your standard Jotnar infant goes through going up, if slightly more in depth and demanding.

    He ate a lot and listened and looked at everything. Memorizing everything. While he¡¯d decided that he¡¯d remain mostly organic, the nanites in his bloodstream slowly replaced his neuronal tissues. Dramatically expanding his base intelligence and computational ability.

    While it didn¡¯t necessarily improve the caliber of his thoughts, it did, improve his abilities to think and run ¡°programs¡±

    The first program Edwin booted up was his [Learning] program a key feature that was installed in all of the Nemesis race¡¯s exploration vessels.

    It took all his pre-recorded knowledge and then using that as context, it took the data he¡¯d collected as an infant to help Edwin rapidly expand his understanding of his new world.

    He¡¯d learn the language by three. Using [Scan] and [Appraisal] function he¡¯d be studying culture and biology by six.

    By the time the boy turned six he¡¯d have a fairly comprehensive, though narrow, grasp of his world.

    This understanding would be expanded through interviews with his parental units Jarek and Olivia who¡¯d been Knights who fought and traversed through the world that lay beyond Otmar and the Emerald Steppes.

    *****

    The first thing that Edwin would learn would naturally be his own name. The second would be the name of his new race, the Jotnar or Jotunn.

    Who according to local folklore and religious beliefs, were said to be descended from the fallen gods and titans who came to this world after being betrayed and defeated by their divine brothers in the cosmos.

    Going by the observations he¡¯d collected both the living and dead members of the species he¡¯d managed to come across and [Scan], Jotnar were this universe¡¯s variation on hominids.

    A mostly humanoid species with larger than average frames. The average Jotun could expect to a minimum of 8 feet tall by the time they reached adulthood and some members of the species had been known to reach 10 to 12 feet.If you discover this tale on Amazon, be aware that it has been unlawfully taken from Royal Road. Please report it.

    There were even tales of a few members of the species reaching 20 or 30 feet in height but those tales had been uncorroborated by Edwin¡¯s findings. And were currently left to either hearsay or speculation.

    The morphology of the standard Jotunn largely matched the data Edwin had on file from his time being a human.

    The only differences being, of course the difference in average height.

    As well as a difference in the spectrum of pigmentation for hair, eyes and skin. Which ran along the full color spectrum with one¡¯s color being tied to one¡¯s region of birth and one¡¯s main elemental alignment.

    Edwin, for instance was a dark green, like that of an ever-green tree, similar to his father and his eldest brother. The rest of his family, in which the full Oddmund clan was included, came in myriad variations of green, from bright yellow greens to blue greens.

    With the only exception being his sister Vanessa who was a pale blue.

    The majority of the community was also green which made sense since the continent, Harta, was known for being rich in Earth essence or earth aligned energy.

    However there were a fair amount of red, blues, purples, yellows and browns mixed in as well.

    Which according to his parents responses when questioned about this was actually somewhat uncommon for small towns like Rus, and more characteristic of larger cities.

    The variation of peoples being due to Otmar County¡¯s tendency of serving as a receptacle for the persona-non-grata of the surrounding kingdoms.

    The second most significant morphologic difference between humans and Jotnar would be their horns. With the average jotun having one or more horns grow in before they arrive at adulthood.

    With the horn length varying from individual to individual.

    Jotnar were big, with a tendency for physical broadness and a base strength that was 2 to 5 times that of your average human.

    They also seemed to be 2.5 times more developed on an intellectual level, compared to the average human. With inborn neuronal development equivalent to that of some ¡°next-level¡± humanoids and cyber-biological species he¡¯d run into while traveling the cosmos as ED-108.

    Though their brutal, matter of fact, semi-simplistic, culture would seem to deny this.

    Speaking of their culture going by the Rus itself and his parent¡¯s accountings of the world beyond, most of Embla seemed to be somewhere between the post-agricultural, mid-industrial stage.

    The presence of magic has hastened the development of certain technologies and techniques but constant conflict and a predisposition towards factionalism and violence has made it so that the average Jotnar tends to die by the time they reach 50, though the species itself has been said to able to easily survive for up to 200 years, or longer if they are one of those individual with the talent to manipulate and ¡°cultivate¡± their internal essence levels.

    Similar to what he¡¯d experienced and witnessed in various other worlds, cultivation seemed to be both a skill and a class distinction.

    A demarcation line between the extraordinary elements of a population and everyone else.

    *****

    ¡°Come on boys...I can almost feel it...I can feel your breathing effecting the breath of the world¡­¡± said the father.

    ¡°Just a little more then?¡± said the other son. The younger. Eager to be done with the exercise.

    ¡°Don¡¯t be so hasty.¡± chided the elder son.

    *****

    Edwin learned more about how the Jotnar cultivated essence as he watched his father, Jarek, a former knight of the kingdom of Kishor, walk Edwin¡¯s elder brothers, Egon and Wallace through it.

    As he often did whenever he caught them long enough.

    By Edwin¡¯s understanding, a cultivator in the family could bring both power and status, as it added to the family¡¯s fighting force and influence.

    Which understandably held great importance in a land where monsters attacked daily, and conflicts between individuals could easily escalate to point familicide blood feuds if not wars.

    Egon, the eldest was the more diligent son, trying harder to listen to his father¡¯s words, but Wallace seemed to hold more talent or affinity for the gathering elemental essence. His few efforts garnering more results, but not enough to be called success.

    As Edwin listened, eavesdropping as he always did, he tried to follow along, it seemed essence, was all that different from ki, and mana, and prana, and host of other anomalous energy forms that ED-108 had learned to harness over the years.

    Which were as whole not that dissimilar to a fusion of both sub-atomic and quantum particles, in that they were highly energetic and were highly influenced by outside observation.

    After quickly figuring out this new particles kinks, which was fairly simple because its similarities to ki and mana were frightfully strong, Edwin switched to the cycle methods he¡¯d used when he was ship.

    Feeling the energy flow into his body and then out of him, his eyes and horn-nub glowing as he took in essence.

    First the energy went in, then it went out, the process as easy and nearly thoughtless as breathing.

    Or so it seemed.

    Just as Edwin was considering what he could do with this new energy source which seemed to be in great abundance in his new world, he had a hiccup, a literal hiccup, that lead to a figurative hiccup in his essence-cycling.

    An orb of red light flew from his open mouth and landed somewhere in the distance releasing a rumble like thunder.

    There were some screams and bleating from frightened livestock.

    ¡°..... Oh, Bugger. That¡¯s no good.¡±

    True to his little boy cover, Edwin did what any child would do, once they¡¯d screw up while playing with powerful forces beyond their ken and ran off.

    Fortunately the only casualty of this incident would be a couple of old goats, who were incinerated by the blast.

    And the only witness would be poor Vanessa who¡¯d happened to be watching the local children near the hill that Edwin was watching his brother¡¯s from.

    She¡¯d never tell a soul of course, she¡¯d grown used to her little brother¡¯s eccentricities and grown tired of people rolling their eyes at her when she tried to tell them about her brother¡¯s peculiarities.

 5:Protectorate

    It was mid-afternoon and for once Jarek was out and about in Rus, hanging out in one of the small town¡¯s less reputable taverns.

    Instead he was home, dressed properly for once, in the formal kit of a warrior. Cleanly shaved and looking in handsome in an orange and blue of the Oddmund family colors.

    Looking like the proud knight-Captain that his wife Olivia had married instead of the depressed, rascal that the ruination of his cultivation based had made of him.

    The kids were dressed too, all of them wearing their Sunday best. Egon and Wallace were suits similar to that of their father¡¯s. Vanessa wore a delicate dress of green and blue frills.

    The only one who¡¯d been missing while the rest of the family was cleaning and sprucing both the house and themselves, was little Edwin.

    Jarek found the boy in his room. Sitting in a corner. Staring at a wall. Mumbling to himself as if he were reading something.

    From the moment of his birth, till now, twelve years later, the man had always known that his youngest son was ¡°special¡±. Whether it was a good special or a bad special, whether it was something to be worried about or something to embrace, old Jarek had no clue.

    All he could do was try and be a good father and treat him with the same gruffness and affection that he¡¯d given to the other children.

    ¡°Oi¡­.little man. You getting ready in here?¡±

    The boy didn¡¯t turn around, staring at¡­.whatever it was...he was looking at in the sparse empty wall.

    ¡°...Affirmative...Room¡¯s already clean, sir.¡± said the boy.

    The vis-Oddmund were one of those family with enough resources to hire folk in the town to help them clean and cook and take care of the grounds. But to teach their children discipline they made them take care of their own rooms. On a red letter day like today that duty was given extra emphasis.

    Jarek looked around at the room, chewing on his tongue, with a wry expression on his face.

    Little Edwin¡¯s bedroom, was empty of toys, the walls empty of pictures or trophies, the floor clear of all footwear save the pair he was to wear on days like today and the one¡¯s he wore every other day.

    If it weren¡¯t the for the bed that was always neatly pressed, it hard to know that anyone had already claimed the space. This story has been unlawfully obtained without the author''s consent. Report any appearances on Amazon.

    Having said this...for those same reasons, that odd appearance of seeming unused for a bedroom, also counted as the room being technically clean.

    ¡°How about getting dressed champ?¡± said Jarek. Deciding not to broach the subject because it usually lead another circular argument.

    Edwin looked at himself and he looked at his father and then he looked at himself.

    Jarek sighed, his youngest son, was both the most difficult and easy to deal with, amongst the four children.

    Accepting and obeying most orders and requests, but seeming to sometimes miss the point or intentions behind those requests.

    ¡°...In nicer clothes, please.¡± said Jarek. Massaging the bridge of his nose.

    ¡°Ah...okay.¡±

    The boy immediately began to strip, showing off his lithe leaf-green form as he changed from one set of clothes to another.

    Jarek wanted to argue for something nicer, but seeing that the clothes were ironed and the boy was neat and presentable enough, he simply chose to leave things as they were.

    *****

    Elsewhere, over the small hillock that hid Rus from the rest of the townships of Otmar county came a troop.

    All of them armored in either leather or bronze. Some of them armed with swords, some of them armed with bows, some of them armed with staves. With the majority bearing clubs, rifles and pikes.

    These were Rus¡¯s portion of the Otmar Protectorate, the standing army of Otmar. Most of them were common soldiers. Regular folk who¡¯d joined on for the promise of coin and a chance to protect their kin folk from beasts and bandit scum.

    There were also a few cultivators there as well, who¡¯d deal with the worst of threat with their heightened combat strength and essence born abilities.

    As was usually the case in most of Embla¡¯s armies leadership was decided by a mixture of personal strength and social status. E.I. cultivation, competence and who you knew.

    Wearing the mantle and cape of a protectorate Captain were two of Rus¡¯s finest and strongest. One Edgar Forester and one Olivia vis-Oddmund.

    The two entered the edges of the town¡¯s inner territorial bounds, and had their men do an about face, that parked the group in front of the small fort that lay just beyond the town¡¯s outer bounds, on inner edge of the low walls that lined the territory.

    The Protectorate force was merged with the waiting ranks of the town guard, those that had been left behind in Rus while the protectorate patrolled with the lord¡¯s forces.

    After a ritualistic trumpet salute to the County¡¯s lord, Count McBriar, the men were dismissed.

    ¡°Well...til next time then, Captain vis-Oddmund¡­¡± grumped the grizzled, one eyed Forester.

    ¡°...Right.¡± said Olivia.

    The two rode back on horseback, each of them heading toward the same direction but from opposite angles.

    The Foresters had a compound just a little ways outside of town, and as for the vis-Oddmunds, they were like most other branch families in that they lived, in the part of town that their clan''s, main family held in their control.

    *****

    The closer to home she was, the more Olivia changed. Shifting from being the stern, nonsense, hard-nailed warrior, an jotun terror of the battlefield, to being a stern, no nonsense, world-wearied woman... to just being a homesick, world-wearied woman.

    Then she reached her home, the middling-sized, brick and wood structure that the Oddmund clan allotted to her husband and saw him standing at the gate with her children behind him. And she leapt into the man¡¯s arms, allowing herself to just be a wife and mother. Happy to have made it back to people she loved.

    ¡°Alright then give mommy a hug, yeah?¡± said Olivia with her arms held open.

    Jarek pouted as he watched his kids rush to their mother. The boys being awkward about the process having become reserved as they grew older.

    ¡°What about me, love?¡±

    ¡°You...get a different sort of hug but that¡¯ll have to wait for later.¡± said Olivia.

    ¡°Ew, Mom...there are children present!¡± said Wallace. His face scrunched in mock-disgust.

 6: Adults are Childish

    ¡°Alright, everybody. Let¡¯s sing together!¡±

    Young Vanessa vis-Oddmund was surrounded by children, which was nothing new, she spent most of her days surrounded by children.

    They were singing the alphabet song, going through all sixty letters of the unified Jotnar alphabet. Or rather she was singing the alphabet song and they were babbling in tune with her.

    She didn¡¯t particularly mind always being surrounded by children. Amongst all the chores that had come to her once she¡¯d ceased to be the daughter of a count, babysitting was one of the easiest.

    She¡¯d always been talented with talk, perhaps preternaturally so. Whether it was animals or people who were simply just lesser in either intelligence or essence compared to her, she usually only needed to say a few words to get them to see her side of things.

    Sometimes she didn¡¯t even need words, if they were young enough, dumb enough, or weak enough, sometimes just a look was enough.

    It was literally like taking candy from a baby. Which, for the record may or may not have been what she¡¯d used to use her ability for, when she was still a McBriar.

    Taking advantage of her dimmer cousins, knicking their things, or tricking them into doing things they probably ought not to have done, whenever they made her cross.

    Which now that she was a decade or so, wiser, was probably not the nicest thing for her to have been doing as a child. But as someone who regularly took care of children, she felt confident in hiding behind the cover of simply saying that absolutely everyone has at least one bratty phase.

    Now she mostly used her powers of persuasion for good. Getting her young wards to behave when they were with her, and telling them to be good for their parents, before giving them back.

    A thing that, she¡¯d only recently realized was probably partly responsible for why her work load kept increasing. With a few of the local families who weren¡¯t Oddmunds now approaching, her relatives to ask for her services in taking care of their kids.

    Van heard a noise that made her stop her singing. Her brow gathered as she listened and though she was pretty sure it was probably nothing since they were still within sight of the town, near the beginning of the road leading to and from town.

    Though few things would dare stray so close, she gathered the children to her just to be safe.

    ¡°Uh...Um...okay, dears, why don¡¯t you come a little closer around big sis Van, for a bit.¡± she said.

    And like sheep harried by a sheepdog they crowded around her.

    Van and her wards, sat near a small brook. She sat with a book in her lap and a handful of throwing knives in the book. Listening, prepared to have the younglings scatter while she faced of whatever it was making those noises.

    All while also hoping that scrunching and snap from the underbrush was just some harmless critter.

    Prepare for the worse, hope for the best, that sort of thing.

    Finally, it appeared, green skinned, shaggy haired, tusked and horned,...her second eldest, older brother.

    ¡°By the gods, Wallace! You scared me half to death you know!?¡± said Vanessa. Pouting in a huff.

    Wallace¡¯s brow waggled.

    ¡°Me? Scare you? Perish the thought, little sis. Mum just sent me out to see if you need any help.¡±

    Van frowned, thinking while her heart slowly stopped racing.

    ¡°Um...I¡¯m not sure why she keeps sending you out here. I¡¯m totally fine.¡±

    Wallace grinned, his smile bearing a twinkling mischief that would eventually bear a stunning similarity to his father¡¯s roguish good looks. The narrative has been taken without permission. Report any sightings.

    ¡°Oh?..So fine, you were nearly scared half to death out being out here by yourself, dear sis?¡±

    ¡°Sh-...Shut up!...You¡¯re interrupting story time. Which isn¡¯t very nice now...Is it kids?¡± said Van. Getting the kids to back her up.

    The two dozen or so, little heads that surrounded her, turning to glare at the young man who stood by the side.

    Wallace rolled his eyes, backing away slightly with his hands up.

    ¡°Fine...fine...I¡¯ll be quiet. Since I¡¯ve already be sent out here I¡¯ll just sit out here and not say a word.¡±

    *****

    Today¡¯s story was about a baker who wanted to become a knight. And then got eaten by a dragon in the end. A grim tale, yes, but told in such a way that it made all the children laugh.

    The moral of the story wasn¡¯t about staying in one¡¯s lane or knowing one¡¯s lot in life, it was about knowing the costs and effort required in the safe fulfillment of any task.

    The baker had spent roughly thirty years trying to be a baker and only ten months being a knight and while he¡¯d been good enough at baking bread, he should have probably trained some more with the sword before going after that life of adventure.

    While she told the story, taking care to show the children the illustrations she¡¯d prepared for her telling of the tale, Van let her mind wander.

    Or rather, it wasn¡¯t so much that she let it wander, as it just sort of did so on its own.

    It was Wallace¡¯s fault really, he kept making faces at her, which meant she had to try very hard not laugh or swear at him. Since the last time she swore, and it ended up becoming three of her young ward¡¯s first words, she got quite the scolding.

    Though she understood that for some reason her adopted mother, Madame vis-Oddmund was indeed the one sending the boy, Van wasn¡¯t entirely sure why he was out here.

    At the moment she had three working theories. The first involved it being Madame vis-Oddmund¡¯s way of getting the boy out trouble and out of her hair.

    Which, Van supposed was possible, but not plausible, since she¡¯d born witness to how Madame vis-Oddmund handled the boy when he was getting on her nerves and that usually involved her boxing his ears for him, and sending him to his father. A man who while also being a rascal, could be quite strict when it came to the raising and training of his sons.

    There was a second more embarrassing theory, that had come to mind. Young Van was fifteen now, nearly sixteen, and that was nearly courting age, and just a few years shy of marrying age, for some of the townsfolk.

    And it wasn¡¯t uncommon for families to adopt a girl into the family register and pair them up with one or more of their children. Such practices of locking in a possible marriage prospect were especially common in remote places like Otmar, where new blood was slow to come in.

    Naturally Van wasn''t one hundred percent on this theory for whole bunch of reason. And naturally she¡¯d never shared it when anyone, even her closest friends in town...again for a whole bunch of reasons.

    Privately, she wasn¡¯t sure how she¡¯d feel about it if this was so.

    On the one hand, she was pretty sure she wasn¡¯t ready to be married. And from that one time she¡¯d ended up playing assistant to one of the town¡¯s Midwives, she was pretty sure she never, ever wanted to have children.

    On the other hand, she didn¡¯t really hate Wallace and the vis-Oddmund¡¯s had been good to her. And she was pretty sure that compared to his sterner, smarter brother Egon, Wallace was just dull enough, and lazy enough, that so long as she kept on top of things and him, she could probably talk her way into the two of them having a great life together.

    There was another noise, but this one was less alarming, it was the sound of horse hooves and creaking carriage wheels coming down the road.

    Van paused in her telling of the story to greet the passerby. She kind of had to, since he¡¯d stopped and even without looking she could sort of feel him staring at her.

    Leaning in towards her, from his place on the carriage box. Leaning over the children. Leering, looking down her buttoned blouse at her steadily blossoming bosom.

    ¡°Good Afternoon, Master Bailey. Did...Did you need anything, sir?¡± said Van. Frankly uncomfortable with the level of attention she was getting from the older man.

    ¡°Hm? Oh...No dearie...No, I was just watching you taking care of the children¡­.You know you¡¯ll probably be a great mother one day, girl.¡±

    ¡°Thank you, sir?¡± said Van.

    ¡°I know right...she certainly nags like my mum anyway¡­¡± said Wallace. Laughing lightly as he stepped in and sat down besides her on the stone she was sitting. Casually throwing his arm over his sister¡¯s shoulder.

    Giving a look that wasn¡¯t quite a warning, but was still a reminder.

    The older man snorted and then gave a mumbled goodbye before heading on his way.

    With a tumblers grace, Wallace slid off the rock and returned to his place at the side of the group.Then after a moment of just staring in space, slightly lost, Van found herself again and resumed telling the story.

    There was a third theory, to why Wallace and sometimes Egon, would occasionally come out to assist, Van while she was taking care of the kids.

    As Van got older, a few of the older cousins and overly friendly old uncles had taken to coming around to say hi.

    At first it was nothing, but according to some of local scuttlebut that Van had overheard from the adults and her girlfriends had overheard from their parents, it might have been something slightly more serious.

    Apparently her father, the mad Count McBriar hadn¡¯t completely forgotten his youngest daughter. Writing into his will as an inheritor albeit a minor one.

    Which meant marriage and her maidenhood now came with a hefty cash prize. And while the girl herself didn¡¯t really put too much thought to the matter, it had almost definitely occurred to her parents that this might be something serious.

    Especially since some of the same McBriars who¡¯d ousted her from the household were occasionally coming around leaving invitations to tea and introductions to some of their friends.

    For Olivia¡¯s part she¡¯d taken to sending her boys out to watch over the girl whenever she was out on her own.

    For Jarek¡¯s part he¡¯d taken to teaching the girl along with the boys. Focusing on cultivation in the long run and a few knife throwing techniques, dagger arts, and grappling moves in the short run.

    Both of the parents making sure to have their friends pass around the news that the Oddmunds, were no soft persimmons and anyone thinking to profit by taking advantage and later apologizing after they¡¯d done something they shouldn¡¯t and forcibly ¡°cooked the rice¡±, was liable to find themselves in a shallow grave no matter what their last name was.

    And in the meantime the youngest brother wasn¡¯t entirely idle either. Taking his exploration of his new world to new levels by quietly administering probes and dissections of those who unbeknownst to the rest of the family, had decided not to heed those warnings.

    His programming denoting such persons as enemy units, which by exploratory warship logic, meant their lives were forfeit, and therefore viable for experimentation and biological sampling.

 7: How the Sausage is Made

    With the rise and fall of kingdoms, and the chaotic nature of the seasons, the only thing that one could count on for sure was the unending flow of time.

    The crops came and went, people died and were born, children grew older and eventually left the nest.

    *****

    In a classroom, in the one school of the small town of Rus, there was a teacher who stood before her handful of teenaged students.

    ¡°Okay, class. Who here can tell me the twelve stages of being?¡± said the teacher.

    She waited to see some hands raised, and seeing only one or two, decided that this time she¡¯d pick on one of the students who usually tried to hide behind the others.

    ¡°Okay, you, Miss Talia. Why don¡¯t you tell the class what the twelve stages of being are.¡± said teacher.

    A nervous looking girl with purple skin and blue pig tails stood at her desk, her gaze fixed somewhere above the teacher¡¯s head.

    ¡°Um, um¡­. So the twelve stages of being are...Ordinary, Common, Special, Elite, Chosen, Heroic, Appointed, Enlightened, Nascent, Legendary, Undying and Celestial.¡±

    ¡°Correct, Miss Talia. These stages are the forms and classifications under which all existence can be roughly understood to fall and these are also the ranks to which one may cultivate one¡¯s essence. Now can anyone tell me, why it¡¯s important for even those of us who don¡¯t cultivate, to know these stages?¡± said the teacher.

    She let the girl sit down and looked for another victim, deciding to choose another of the non-participating members of her class. This narrative has been purloined without the author''s approval. Report any appearances on Amazon.

    ¡°Ah, how about you Mr.vis-Oddmund. Can you tell us why even ordinary people would need to know about the stages of being?¡±

    ¡°Mr.vis-Oddmund? Would you kindly wake up, Mr.vis-Oddmund.¡± said the teacher. Her expression still kindly like that of a model teacher, despite the viciousness with which she threw the piece of chalk she was holding.

    Edwin awoke as the chalk disintegrated just a few millimeters away from his forehead. He yawned as he stood up.

    Rubbing his eyes as His passive [scanning] ability began playing back everything that it had recorded classroom while he¡¯d been resting.

    ¡°....The average person¡¯s need to be aware of the twelve stages of being, lies in the appraisal of goods and trade. For instance an ordinary sausage roll is just a sausage roll, but a celestial sausage roll however would count as a legendary medicine. An ordinary shield is just a shield, but a celestial ranked shield might help save its owner from divine tribulation. While this might seem a bit exaggerated, the point is that even without the ability to cultivate those who can do trade in higher ranked goods, will have higher standing in their chosen trade. Makers and sellers of higher ranked goods are treated like living treasures.¡±

    ¡°Correct, Mr.vis-Oddmund. Do try to stay awake from now on, please.¡± said the teacher. Looking slightly stifled. The answer was flawless but considering who¡¯d she¡¯d asked it almost went without saying.

    Seemingly disregarding her words, the boy had already fallen asleep again, but it¡¯d had been point to get sidetracked over it.

    Edwin vis-Oddmund was either very easy to handle or very troublesome. In theory he was a model student, in practice his conduct could be quietly infuriating.

    The teacher, one Ms.Vanessa vis-Oddmund, who¡¯d taken her babysitting to the next level by becoming an educator once she was old enough to chose a trade, couldn¡¯t help sighing over it.

    She could try waking the boy again, but he¡¯d just argue that he was paying perfect attention to everything going on in the class.

    If she tried to argue against his argument, he¡¯d just give an eerily accurate recounting of everything that had happened in the last twenty-five minutes or so. Including any embarrassing gossip or bodily function that might have been passed by the people around him.

    She could argue that the classroom wasn¡¯t a democracy or simply just send the boy out into the hall, but...that didn¡¯t really seem to change his behavior for future classes. And their parents didn¡¯t seem to be of any help when she tried reporting the boy to them.

    In the end she¡¯d learned to just let things slide when it came to her little brother Edwin. He¡¯d been a weirdo from since the day he was born and seventeen years later, he was still as strange as he¡¯d always been.

    Repeated exposure to the young man making her find him less unnerving, though her annoyance with his more disagreeable peculiarities had yet to fade completely.

 8: For Fun or For Profit

    The Emerald Steppes were all but barren. The green sediment that gave the region its name and coloring, was ironically responsible for poisoning the soil and making it near impossible for any substantial farming and growth to be done.

    As such most of the creatures that could be found in this region were at least partly carnivorous, taking their calories in meat and blood, if that was what it came down to, for their survival.

    Fork-Horn Moose were named for both their tongues and their horns, both of which grew in, four pronged and gray, like your average table fork.

    Edwin ran into three of the beasts during one of his tri-weekly jaunts around the outer-borders of Rus. The creatures were in the middle of eating a wild boar when he ran into them.

    Their muzzles red with blood and gristle.

    His first thought was to make a retreat. It was one thing if he¡¯d run into the beasts on purpose, but this time it was quite by accident and he hadn¡¯t been prepared. Wearing only a small general-use dagger at his side. The blade meant more for eating than personal protection.

    From the aura that oozed out from beneath the shaggy, gray-brown winter coats that lay upon the creatures dense, gargantuan frames, he could tell they were at least at the of the special stage.

    The essence in their bodies having begun the process of making them fiercer and stronger than any normal fork-horn moose could ever be.

    Edwin was almost out and away when the bull moose at the head of the group looked up and glared at him. Snorting mist from out its nostrils.

    ¡°Ah...Nice Moosey, moosey, moosey...no need for us to¡­.¡±

    The moose charged and Edwin was forced to act, he was just a year shy from being a splendid adult again, by his reckoning. It¡¯d have been a shame to waste all that time and effort on both him and his parent¡¯s part, by dying.

    So he did what he generally tried his best to avoid doing.

    The moose charged, the bull moose¡¯s action bring all three into a frenzy, they roared, the sound honking and menacing, their antlers tilting downwards to skewer the errant jotun that had interrupted their meal.

    Then almost as soon as everything started, it was ended.

    Finished with three short flashes of light.

    The three moose fell, violently crashing into the ground, and leaving tracks in the soil, like derailed locomotives.

    Then there was a sound of metal leaving flesh followed by the sound of metal entering flesh.

    Two of the moose were stunned, blasted by rays that came from the boy¡¯s palms.

    The third moose, the bull moose had also been stunned and afterwards, a tendril of black metal and spiked into its skull kill the creature instantly.

    This tendril snaked back into Edwin¡¯s spine. It was one of ten manipulator tentacles that had been generated automatically over time. Born from additional clusters of hyper myelinated neuronal tissue. Wrapping themselves around Edwin¡¯s bones as he grew.

    His mostly mechanical, central nervous system, being heavily influenced by his past as a machine.

    ¡°*Gnh¡­¡± Edwin groaned. Sucking in a cool breath.

    Blood dripped from his side, near the root of the black tendril. As well as from his nose.

    Edwin did his best not to use these tentacles of his. Though it wasn¡¯t for any reasons of trying to fit in or ape some modicum of normality.

    Embla was a world where everyone was different enough from each other, that being too normal would be the true oddity. And even if that weren¡¯t the case, Edwin was self aware enough to know that too much of his nature was irrevocably, irredeemably divergent for any attempt at trying to perfectly blend in with his fellow Jotnar to be feasible.

    Edwin had indeed decided to leave most of his body biological and not revert to a full machine state, but he¡¯d done so for the sake of living as a Jotun in the best fashion a former spaceship could.

    Still even then he hated using his powers and his mechanical parts. Mostly because they generally hurt too much to use. They were also expensive. Draining both his stored calories and his stored essence.

    Even if he could use the direct control he had over his nervous system to abate some of the pain it caused him to use those assets, there was no easy fix for the damage it caused him and the cost in energy.

    A cost in energy that was often accompanied by exhaustion and pounding headaches. Biologically speaking, though he¡¯d been fine just seconds ago, he was now technically starving. As if he hadn¡¯t eaten in days.

    Which was why Edwin was now putting a fair portion of his time and all his accumulated knowledge into trying to figure out an ideal physical form for himself. One that could support both halves of Edwin¡¯s nature. Allowing him to be the perfect blend of man and machine.

    This was his reason for all his experimentation and his sampling of the local wildlife, his search for the perfect Jotnar form. Or at least so he told himself. Conveniently ignoring all the data he had in his memory banks concerning divine physiques, from his war with gods and devils.

    If he was being perfectly honest part of his reasons for doing the things he did. He likely should have also included the alleviation of boredom, and an in-built instinct to constantly self-optimize and collect new facts that was pretty much just hard coded into all of the Nemesis race¡¯s Exploratory Warships.

    It was too unreasonable to think one little death could change all that he¡¯d been doing literal eons.

    White windows appeared in the empty air. The windows engulfed the two living beasts, putting them in a space that would hold them in stasis till Edwin figured out what he wanted to do with them. This narrative has been unlawfully taken from Royal Road. If you see it on Amazon, please report it.

    Edwin cycled essence for a few minutes and let the nanites in his blood stream repair both the damage to his body and the damage to his clothes.

    ¡°*Hup*!¡±

    Once he was sure he was whole and presentable again, he leaned forward and then swung the three ton bull moose up onto his shoulders.

    With all this having been seen to, Edwin saw no reason not to resume what he¡¯d been doing. Heading to a favorite spot where he¡¯d founded a fairly rich patch of mixed essences for later storage, cycling and cultivation.

    This esoteric energy would be supplemented with energy pulled from more mundane sources such as solar radiation, universal background radiation, any free heat found in his surroundings, and energy from the planet¡¯s electromagnetic field. He could even absorb the kinetic energy from local sounds.

    Driven by principles of machine-evolution, his systems had advanced to a stage far beyond anything his original makers could have imagined.

    Edwin¡¯s nanites could find energy from pretty much anywhere. The only question was storage and use and his body¡¯s tolerance of these energies. Which was what the essence was for. As the particles seemed to have some reality altering effects that made use of the more mundane energies simpler and more manageable.

    Like a beast of myth, Edwin¡¯s cultivation was rising at its own pace. Fine Tuning the makeup of his body while he made the broad strokes and finishing touches.

    To that end, Edwin consider, most of his current problems with his body, as a sort of growing pain.

    They were particularly troublesome when he was just a child. A cause for much pain, the occasional fever that had his parents calling both the local doctors and the local priests. They were annoying now, resulting in current dislike of using his old space-ship capabilities unless he absolutely had to, but eventually, he¡¯d get over it.

    And in full honesty, he couldn¡¯t be sure of how much of all this, was something he was going through, and how much was just down to the fact that after eons of doing so, he gradually come to like quietly and constantly tinkering with his internal composition.

    Fiddling with his organs, flesh and bones, in much the same way a motorhead might fiddle with ¡°their¡± vehicle of choice.

    *****

    After Edwin finished cultivating, he slung the moose back onto his shoulders and then headed back to town.

    ¡°Heya, Eddy boy!¡±

    ¡°How¡¯re ya doing Ed?!¡±

    ¡°Hi, Mr.Fitzpatrick.¡±

    ¡°Morning, Mrs.Jones.¡±

    He passed a few people who were either riding in wagon or riding on horseback. He waved to the one¡¯s he knew. Verbally greeting the one¡¯s he knew well.

    This continued even after he¡¯d entered the town. Edwin wasn¡¯t popular by any means, Rus was just the kind of folksy place where everyone knew each other it was custom to greet those you knew.

    The people who called out to him were those who were friendly with his parents. Those who¡¯d known him growing up and weren¡¯t quite as influenced by rumors of the boy¡¯s uncanniness.

    Edwin passed his father on his way to his real destination. The man was where he usually was, sitting outside one of the town¡¯s local taverns. Surrounded by a few of the town''s other layabouts and rascals. Sitting with cup of dice to his left and a tankard of ale to his right.

    ¡°How goes it son, I take it you went hunting again?¡± said Jarek.

    Edwin looked up towards the huge beast that he had draped across his broad shoulders like a shawl.

    ¡°Er...it seems so...this time it wasn¡¯t really on purpose though.¡± said Edwin.

    Jarek whistled, smiling widely, his green face flushed from all the early afternoon drinking he¡¯d done.

    ¡°That¡¯s my son. Hear that lads, my boy goes out to the wilds and somehow accidently comes back with the damned king of the glade on his back.¡±

    The other fellows chuckle. Some of the newer ones seeming impressed. While the older ones just nodded.

    It was a known fact that Oddmund family''s intake of meat had gone up by a ten-fold since their youngest boy had taken to walking out from the town gates on his own.

    A habit he¡¯d started when he was around ten or so.

    The vis-Oddmund¡¯s ate like kings. The rest of the Oddmund clan ate like they were McBriar folk and the town of Rus in general also profited.

    Though the boy wasn¡¯t popular or particularly well liked, it was at least acknowledged that with him roaming the lands outside the town, the town itself had never eaten quite so well, quite so cheaply and wildlands beyond the town¡¯s walls had never been so safe.

    *****

    Edwin reached his destination a small shop that sold wild game brought in by hunters.

    As the years went by, Edwin had become their biggest supplier, and eventually his curiosity got the better of him and he asked to see how they did the butchering there.

    It turned out it wasn¡¯t much different compared to the butchering on otherworlds, which in turn wasn¡¯t much different compared to the medical vivisections Edwin used to do back when he was starship, picking up biological samples and a medical drone picking up patients.

    He found that he was good at it, and the owner found he was good at it, and eventually they built a reporte that turned into a nice genteel working partnership.

    ¡°Oi...Eddy, where the hell have you been kid?¡± said the butcher.

    ¡°Out on a Jog¡­As you can see I came back bearing gifts.¡± said Eddy.

    The butcher chuckled.

    ¡°Tch...More like you came back with more work for us to do..Have a bit o¡¯ pity on an old man, will you?¡± said the Butcher

    ¡°And more meat for us to sell...if I do most of the prep work... which is pretty much always the case...if we¡¯re going to be honest.¡±

    The butcher just shook his head. Turning his attention to bloody flesh that was already spread out on the table in front of him.

    ¡°Right, right...just get to work¡­T¡¯aint paying you for the conversation.¡±

    Edwin went to find his own table, setting up a hook and chain that hung from the ceiling and hanging his fresh killed quarry on the hook.

    He put on an apron, dingy, brownish pink from frequent use and frequent washing. Then he crouched down for a bit to get his equipment from the shelves under the table. Beneath the table was a bunch of shelves and drawers, within the top most drawer was a set of sharp, clean, gleaming steel knives.

    Edwin brought them out smiling faintly as he looked at his own reflection in the blades.

    Then he got down to the business of butchering the moose. He gutted the beast, He skinned it, and began systematically removing the muscles from the bone.

    Preparing the boneless meat that would be sold for a premium at the shop.

    *****

    Edwin stood at that table working, for exactly six hours, fifty-two minutes, and twelve seconds before deciding he¡¯d done enough for the day.

    ¡°Well...till next time.¡± he said. Saying goodbye to the butcher. Who¡¯d already stopped and now sat behind the counter of his shop with an old book in hand.

    ¡°Later, kid.¡±

    While butchering the moose Edwin had come up with a few ideas for what he¡¯d use the live moose he had stored in stasis for.

    He was busy deciding which of the options he¡¯d actually go with, while he meandered back to his home in the Oddmund part of town.

    Once he got to his home he found a stranger standing near the back wall. Wearing a mask.

    Edwin frequently ran into such strangers in the past, it had been a while since the last one came by. A few years at the least.

    Using his [scan] ability to look beneath the mask he saw that the stranger was one of the infrequent out-of-towners that came and went through Rus¡¯s gate. Passing through the county like tumbleweeds on a windy day.

    The stranger was standing outside Edwin¡¯s sister¡¯s window. A small toolbox set down beside him. The box was open and Edwin could see a bottle of something that would likely count as an anesthetic were it to be used medically. Some rope and a burlap sack for easy carrying.

    It was almost cartoonish. The man seemed to be an ordinary, every day hoodlum, someone who¡¯d been offered an unseemly amount of money to do something out of their league. And had made the attempt because they were likely both despicably greedy and stupidly brave.

    Just to be sure, Edwin decided to ask the man what he was intending to do, before he, Edwin, acted.

    ¡°Er...sir. I¡¯m afraid I haven¡¯t had the pleasure of making your acquaintance. I don¡¯t suppose you could¡­¡±

    The man jumped and then after recovering from being startled he began striking out wildly with a dirk he¡¯d had strapped to his back.

    Seeing that his assumption that the man was indeed yet another would be kidnapper come to try and break into his sister¡¯s room, had been confirmed, Edwin no longer hesitated.

    Lunging forward, his hand piercing through the back of the man¡¯s head.

    He stepped back, pulling his hand from out of what remained of the man¡¯s shattered skull.

    Edwin stared at the corpse, wondering if he should take it as a research sample, but in the end he decided against it. He¡¯d collected far too many ordinary Jotnar corpses throughout the years. They were no longer of use.

    With that option out, Edwin did what always did when he had some unusable, non-edible, biological waste to deal with, using heat rays to incinerate the body and reduce it to ash. Scattering the ashes with a few kicks.

    ¡°Welp...Guess I¡¯ve got to go tell mom and dad that this nonsense has started again....¡± said Edwin. Frowning. Rubbing his gurgling stomach.

    Aware of what having a would-be kidnapper at his sister''s window likely meant.

 9: Vultures and Magpies

    Nivina sat at the center of the Otmar County, serving as its sole true city as well as it¡¯s capital. Trade was just as slow here, as it was in all the other towns and settlements in the region, but the sheer quantity of trade and people that came its way made Nivina much richer than all its sister settlements.

    The thick stone and metal walls that surrounded Nivina lead to its being the most relatively safe of all the settlements. All of this in leading to Nivina having the highest population amongst its peers.

    Near the center of Nivina, was the great manor of the good Count McBriar. Called good, because despite his mental instability and famed lechery, compared to other nobles on the continent his governance was fairly stable and tales of him and his people overtly oppressing the common folk were comparatively small in number.

    At the moment within the dining hall of this great manor, a man sat at a great long table. A silver fork in his left hand, a silver knife in his right.

    A bowl the size of a small tub sat in front of him.

    Blue skinned, white haired, with large bright blue eyes, that still held a certain sharpness despite being clouded over, their gaze just a tad unfocused. This, the strong jawline and a certain something near the beaklike nose, made it almost painfully obvious that he and a certain adopted child of the vis-Oddmund family were father and daughter.

    This man was Hunfred Rylin McBriar the Third, the good Count of Otmar.

    He¡¯d just sat down to eat his mid-afternoon egg custard. Eating custard with a knife and fork was exactly difficult as can be imagined, yet with all else in his County, the old man would somehow always manage to come through in the end.

    A very messy fifteen minutes later, he¡¯d finish, his bowl sitting emptied in front of him, a few drops of custard having made it onto his otherwise pristine ducky-print bib.

    He belched loudly with aplomb, sighing in satisfaction as he pulled the bib away from his collar and tossed it onto the table before him.

    ¡°Nothing like sugar, eggs and cream to give a man a bit of clarity¡­¡± he mumbled to himself.

    Sitting with his hands steepled before him, atop of his slightly swollen stomach.

    He drifted off as he often did after his mid-afternoon snack. Dreaming of better days. Dreaming of the days when he was younger and still a promising young courtier in the capital city of the kingdom. Dreaming of all his wives with all their lovely forms and lovely shades of skin.

    *****

    Recently, one in particular would always come to him as he slept, a wide hipped, deep bosomed, young thing, with green skin and a lovely singing voice. Almost hypnotic. Soothing to the senses, holding an almost narcotic sway on the mind.

    He¡¯d kept many lovers and concubines since that one¡¯s passing but there had been none that could move him like she¡¯d moved him.

    Hunfred had been quite wroth when he¡¯d been given word of the Oddmund girl¡¯s passing. Naturally, He¡¯d known that she had been a victim of schemes of his greedy and covetous over-numerous brats. The offspring of his other wives, concubines and mistresses.

    After he¡¯d found out about her death, he¡¯d made a point of going just a little more ¡°batty¡± in the months that followed. Killing chickens to scare the monkeys, killing monkeys to teach the disreputable over ambitious young curs amongst his get. The story has been taken without consent; if you see it on Amazon, report the incident.

    Giving a series of seemingly nonsensical orders and sinisterly whimsical commands that wouldn¡¯t mean much to the general public but would serve to scourge the one¡¯s responsible and set an example for the those in the know.

    *****

    Hunfred awoke, frowning, the crinkled lines of his otherwise fair featured face growing even deeper. He was nearly one hundred and fifty now, but through most of it, he¡¯d lived with few regrets.

    Not even regretting the series of decisions that got him and his exiled out here to dreary Otmar, and the lifeless Emerald Steppes.

    Yet, there was one particular amongst his few regrets that was currently coming to mind. A little girl with his coloring and her mother¡¯s beautiful voice.

    Wrinkling his thick frosted brows, Hunfred got up and called for his Seneschal. Despite his age the old count still did quite a bit of the work governing his people, after all there were only a few of his many children that with enough promise and competence that he could trust to properly help him run his region and he¡¯d sent most of them out and away from him.

    Away from their greedy, bloodthirsty siblings, and away from Otmar, lest they be stuck in this dead end place and add to Hunfred''s small list of regrets.

    There were others, non-family members that were competent enough for him to trust, but one had to be careful with those sorts of associations. A borrowed hand that was too relied on today, could be a hand around your neck tomorrow. Power was something to be kept within the bloodline, where the threat of mutual destruction was most assured and a basic minimal trust could be assured.

    As Hunfred tottered back to his offices and sat down to work, he paused before lifting his quill pen and glasses from his great mahogany desk.

    The old man snorted having made up his mind over something that had long bothered him.

    ¡°Eustice¡­¡± said Hunfred. Calling to one of the attendants who assisted him in the room.

    ¡°Yes, m¡¯lord?¡± said the attendant.

    ¡°Call Forester and a few of the other old chaps. I need a witness to the adjusting of my will.¡±

    He¡¯d already given the girl, a minor inheritance, but he¡¯d held off from giving the child a full portion of the estate, lest he implicate her by giving her more than she could hold onto on her own.

    Yet, she was owed what she was owed and he couldn¡¯t not give it to her, it wouldn¡¯t have sat well with his conscience, so Hunfred believed it was time to rectify things.

    ¡°Yes, my lord.¡±

    And with that, Hunfred¡¯s mind resumed its genteel, whirligig manner. He was well aware that he¡¯d likely just thrown meat to a pup that was surrounded by wolves, yet somehow he found himself okay with that. Anything he gave one of his children the others would try to take away or take a bite out of.

    Vicious little savages that they were, despite their love of silks, satin and wine, and their high falutin airs.

    Still, the girl was one of his, and she was no longer just a helpless child. Add to this the fact the from what he knew of the family she¡¯d fallen in with, his brats and their cronies wouldn¡¯t be able to act too unrestrained. Knowing that if they did, they knew that they¡¯d have to pay two prices, one from the Oddmund clan and one from him, for losing face for the family.

    Thus Hunfred had felt reasonably safe in giving this bit of inheritance to the daughter of one of his favorite mistresses.

    Not realizing that he¡¯d overlooked a simple fact of life. The fact, that thinking that one had made something foolproof, just lead to the creation of new kinds of fools.

    Less than twenty-four hours after the changes to the will were made, his children and their families were aware of it.

    Less than seventy-two hours after that, various factions, parties and powers in the Otmar region would be making invitations and overtures to the Oddmund. Some of them making backdoor deals in hopes of getting the Oddmund¡¯s clan support of their schemes.

    Less then twenty-fours after that, young Vanessa would be repelling the first of a slowly intensifying series of kidnapping attempts one her way home from Rus¡¯s schoolhouse.

    Less than two weeks of all this began, the Oddmund clan¡¯s main family would finally get a deal with good enough benefits for them to be willing sell out the adopted daughter of the vis-Oddmund branch family. Sending orders to Jarek and his family, that they and the girl should report to the manner of such-and-such at such-and-such a time.

    And less than a day after receive the orders that were torn up and tossed in a fire. Jarek and Olivia decided that something a little more extreme would need to be done if they were going to protect their daughter''s happiness.

    Giving in would have been one thing, if the offers were mutually beneficial to all parties, but somehow they doubted their be any profit for the girl¡¯s future, if they gave in. Somehow they doubted that the girl would even ¡°have¡± a future if they gave in. The parties seeking the girl¡¯s hand just wanted her inheritance and such open attempts at robbery usually meant low chance of survivability for the intended victim. If they obeyed the main family¡¯s edict the girl would likely be dead by the year¡¯s end.

    Thus a very rash plan was quickly put in place by the Master and Madam of the vis-Oddmund house. The girl might have only been their adopted daughter, but they loved her like she was blood.

 10: Springtime of Youth

    ¡°So I think it¡¯s time you go visit your brother Wallace and see how¡¯s doing in the big cities up north.¡± said Jarek.

    Breaking the usual, comfortable silence that held sway whenever father and son happened to be in the same place at the same time, with no particular purpose behind it.

    ¡°Um...I guess.¡± said Edwin.

    ¡°Me and your mother were figuring you can go do it in a week or so¡­¡±

    ¡°Um...Wait...What?¡±

    *****

    Biologically speaking Childhood for the Jotnar lasted between the ages of one and twelve. Adolescence for the Jotnar lasted from the ages of thirteen and thirty, ending when they reached their full heights at around their thirty-fifth year. With full adulthood being a period marked either by cultivation-based evolution or simple senescence.

    Culturally and legally speaking, a Jotun was considered a full adult from their sixteenth year onwards.

    Which was why Edwin wasn¡¯t too surprised when his old rascal of a father, slung his arm over the boy¡¯s shoulders and said, it was time for the boy to be his own man.

    All things considered, Edwin had also been thinking that it was time that he set off on his own. He liked his family quite a lot, actually depending on whether or not machine could love and whether he still counted as a machine, he probably loved them.

    They weren¡¯t abusive, they weren¡¯t cold, they weren¡¯t distant. They were just a normal loving, Jotnar household. Brusque but warm.

    Surprisingly accepting of their odd youngest child, surprisingly soft-hearted folk considering the kind of hard society that they were living in. The genuine version of this novel can be found on another site. Support the author by reading it there.

    It was almost inevitable that he¡¯d get attached. Even then, he¡¯d always figured that eventually he¡¯d have to move on. From the very beginning, from the first moments when he¡¯d gained an understanding of his new world and his place in it, he¡¯d found himself aching to get a better look at the bigger picture. A first hand look.

    Perhaps it was just some instinct left over from his old AI imperatives, from when he¡¯d sat at the helm of an exploratory fleet of starships. But he¡¯d always known that he¡¯d need to leave Rus at least once to see what was out there.

    What¡¯s more, while his direct family had certainly been accepting of his quirks, the extended clan and the town beyond seemed to be quite wary of him. As if intuiting the fundamental differences that lay between him and them.

    In the seventeen plus years that he¡¯d lived in the Otmar county while he¡¯d made no enemies and gained no animosity worth noting, he¡¯d also made few friends.

    And in a small community like theirs, having no friends, having no gratitude and grudges could be just as bad having someone out there gunning for you.

    Thus he¡¯d figured eventually he¡¯d go out and see if there were green pastures out there to plant roots for himself in.

    ¡°Eventually¡± here meaning¡­¡±in a few years or so¡±, since his coming of age ceremony had only been a few months ago. And he¡¯d figured he¡¯d do a few tours with the protectorate first to see how things panned out there first, before giving in to his building wanderlust.

    He didn¡¯t think they¡¯d try and rush him out of the home so soon. Yet here it was..

    ¡°You know I...You know I love you son¡­And for what it¡¯s worth, you¡¯ve made me proud.¡± said Jarek.

    Edwin looked at his father, staring at the older man, and appraising him deeply, with his luminous blue-silver eyes.

    ¡°You and mom aren¡¯t like¡­.dying are you? Cause I...uh...I¡¯m pretty sure I can fix that if you are.¡±

    Now it was Jarek''s turn to stare and blink. Momentarily knocked off tempo, by yet another cryptic, non-sequitur from his youngest son.

    ¡°...Er...No...Nope. I¡¯m as healthy as a horse...well as healthy as a horse with a lame leg and a shattered core can be, anyway... And your mother will probably outlive us all...So, no need to worry about that.¡±

    Edwin nodded, watching his father, watching all his expressions and micro-expressions. Looking for whatever it was he was missing in this picture.

    ¡°Oh¡­.Good then.¡±

    *****

    The biggest surprise would be when they revealed that he wasn¡¯t going alone. Meeting him with one of the town¡¯s priests in tow and his sister behind them, bearing a pack on her back. And driving a carriage with two horses.

    ¡°Good luck you two...may the winds at your back blow sweetly, kindly and fiercely.¡±

 11: Unromantic

    ¡°May the Green gods invest you with health and fertility. May the Red gods give you vigor and strength. May the white gods grant you good winds and fair weather. May the Blue gods grant bounty. May the Yellow gods grant you wealth. May the Gray gods grant wisdom. May you two support each other, respect each other, and protect each other, till the black gods call you into the blissful dark...and May your children grow strong enough to carry your names after you¡¯ve gone¡­¡±

    The Priest gave his blessing and the two youths awkwardly received it.

    Their parents, their one pair of parents, tearful and stonily watched the proceeding while a friend of the family served as witness to the ceremony.

    This was how the vis-Oddmund¡¯s said goodbye to their two youngest children. Sending them on their way with the gift of supplies for the road, and a cart and horses to carry everything.

    Embla¡¯s culture was a mixture of simplicity and sophistication. There were people who lived in mid-industrial, super cities of iron, magic and steam, and others who lived in feudalistic medieval empires.

    Civilizations as a whole sat somewhere in a brutish, fantastical middle-ground, where pragmatism, honor and violence were the law of the land.

    As such, for most, marriage wasn¡¯t about love, it wasn¡¯t about feelings, it was about resource sharing and making and strengthening inter-familial bounds.

    Primal like beasts, logical like machines, the monsters and titans that had become Embla¡¯s peoples led existences that were often both simple and complicated at the same time.

    As such the lovely Vanessa vis-Oddmund, had always expected to have a marriage that made sense on a practical level.

    While she¡¯d expected to know who her husband would be before the big day and perhaps be the one who made the final decision on whether to marry him or not, she knew that it would be facts not feelings that decided the issue.

    A pairing that was more economy than emotion because that was how marriages in Embla worked, at least for the most part. If you discover this narrative on Amazon, be aware that it has been stolen. Please report the violation.

    Still...she¡¯d always hoped that there would be a little more space for feelings. Which girl wouldn¡¯t hope for a little romance in their lives. Was there anyone out there who didn¡¯t want to be able to say that they loved the one they¡¯d ended spending the rest of their lives with?

    And so it was, with mixed feelings, that she allowed herself to be wed to Edwin, the strangest and youngest of her three adopted brothers.

    It was true enough that her wedding was only taking place because that was what made the most sense right now. Serving as yet another shield to hide her in her time of crisis.

    Yet, it was still Edwin, that she was getting marriage to here, there was no getting around that. There was no side stepping that issue or the fact that it was neither something she¡¯d wanted or expected.

    She didn¡¯t hate the boy. She couldn¡¯t, for all his oddities and eeriness, he was still her brother, and he¡¯d been a good brother for the most part. Offbeat, yes, but loyal and reliable.

    In fact it was for that same reason that her parents had decided to strike her name from the family registry as a daughter so they could put her back in as a daughter-in-law.

    Edwin vis-Oddmund was known throughout the town as a young man who kept his promises. A man you could trust. A man that could be relied upon.

    ¡°You two...be safe out there, you hear me? Look out for each other¡± said Olivia. Chiding the pair sternly while wiping the corners of her eyes with a lace handkerchief.

    ¡°Yes, mother.¡± said Edwin. Saluting. His look incongruously jaunty.

    ¡°Yes, Moth-, Madame.¡± said Van. Her mood subdued and muddled.

    Looking at things in a certain light, if she didn¡¯t know so much about her brother¡¯s odd parts and if he wasn¡¯t...well...her brother, she probably wouldn¡¯t have been so against this pairing.

    Though the age gap was a bit concerning, considering the average Jotun¡¯s 200 year lifespan, sans cultivation, twelve years wasn¡¯t that big a deal.

    And in the end, she knew that all this was her parents trying their damndest to try and keep her safe. Which just lead to more frustration.

    A big bubble of boiling anger and hate rising in her gut as thought of the fellows who were making designs on her life.

    That the same loathsome people who killed her mother and tried to throw her away, were now so ¡°graciously¡± trying to pull her back into the fold, filled her with a fury that made her wish she was strong enough flip the whole town over and dash those schemers from her noble father¡¯s side of the family, to pieces.

    Eventually the small ceremony was over, Van gave hugs and gifts for her parents to give to all the friend¡¯s she¡¯d not been able to say goodbye to.

    She gave one extra tight, extra long hug that was meant for her adopted mother and father. Since no matter what the extenuating circumstances and no matter what the family record said, she still thought of them as such.

    Then when everything that could be said and done, was said and done, she climbed up onto the wagon and let Edwin lead them both out into the Wilderness.

    Their destination set for anywhere but here, with the vague parameter of ¡°far away¡± as their guide, and their elder brother Wallace serving as a mid-point for their journey.

 12: Rice and Roses

    The newlyweds rode out from Rus¡¯s rear entrance under the cover of darkness. Sitting side by side on the drivers bench of a carriage, while two six legged horses led them down the road.

    Edwin was oddly chipper, as per usual, whistling a jaunty tune while he held the reins. He¡¯d not expected to be leaving his home, a few days ago, nor had he expected to be getting married, a few hours ago. Yet, he found that he had few complaints on the matter.

    If he were truly a normal person, he might have wondered why his parents didn¡¯t at least explain things beforehand or ask his opinion on the matter.

    Fortunately, or unfortunately Edwin was no such thing. He was a half-jotun, half ascended A.I. and thus in the time that Jarek had walked away to call his mother, his sister and the priest over, he¡¯d aptly guessed that the situation was just that dire.

    So dire, that his parent¡¯s couldn¡¯t spend the extra time that it would have taken to talk it through with him.

    He also understood himself well enough to know that even if they had explained things, his tendency toward compliance when those he considered worth his time made requests meant that he¡¯d likely have given in anyway.

    He¡¯d loved his sister (as a sister), and he both loved and respected his parents as superiors, trusting their judgement.

    Beyond that, he¡¯d always accepted that there was a chance that Olivia would play the part of a meddling mother and arrange a pairing for him in some form or the other. Albeit, not so abruptly.

    So he wasn¡¯t that shocked, or taken aback by what came to pass.

    In truth, his only real concern was whether his mother and father would be safe and whether they¡¯d have to suffer through any fallout from their actions.

    He hoped it wasn¡¯t the case, but in the eventuality that anything happened to them, he¡¯d already decided to painfully reconfigure the bodies and consciousness of those responsible.

    The young man¡¯s memories of his past life and his understanding of the Jotnar form were sufficient for him to be able to alter any base jotun and make them into a certain gelatinous breed of super-protozoa, that was functionally immortal, deaf, mute, and blind and knew only pain.

    A fully-sentient blob of living agony, doomed to suffer for all eternity or till someone took pity and threw it into the sun.

    He¡¯d discovered the method for their creation, during his other life, back when he was a spaceship. He¡¯d been playing with alternate forms of consciousness, doing research into finding methods of fusing his AI with various biological mediums.

    The result was the pain-blob, the experience so harrowing and horrifying that he¡¯d had to cut off the research plant connected to that particular tortured offshoot of his consciousness and jettison the entire building into a nearby sun, lest the rest of him go insane from the experience.

    *****

    On the other end of the wagon, sat Van, her chin resting on her knuckles, her stag like white horns tilted forwards as if she were waiting to gore someone.

    She¡¯d known about the wedding a few days before Edwin learned about it. It hadn¡¯t been a plan back then, it had just been a possibility that was discussed. A hopefully distant possibility.

    Though, as was self-evident, it seemed those hopes had been dashed.

    Now that everything had already gone down, she didn¡¯t have any complaints, or rather there was no one to complain to.

    Van¡¯s thoughts were focused on the life that had been upended and the friends that she hadn¡¯t been able to say goodbye to. Fearing that their loose lips would alert those who were plotting against her.

    She wanted revenge but she knew she¡¯d probably end up lamely settling for the meek but still fairly good, vengence of living a good life despite someone else¡¯s ill intentions.

    In other words, while she was still very unhappy with the situation, she¡¯d more or less come to terms with it.

    Accepting the fact that she¡¯d been chased out of her home towns and into the arms of her adopted brother, with stony face resignation and only the littlest bit of, possibly misplaced, resentment for the boy at her side, who still had yet to say a single word to his new wife.

    No longer able to sit and stew she was just about to be the one to break the silence between her husband and herself when she heard the sound of hooves, wheels and boots traveling down the gravel road.

    Opposite the couple, coming down the same back road that the couple had been planning on using to escape was a small troop of men in armor.

    Lead by one, Horace McBriar, one of the younger McBriar boys, who shared a mother with two older siblings who were currently joined together in the fight for control of the County.

    All this was just a bit of bad serendipity, ill timed coincidence. The back road out of Rus was often used by those who didn¡¯t want to pull too much attention to themselves by using the front road, which was closer to the main streets and local business that people often frequented.

    Horace had been sent out by his siblings ordered, to fetch a few friends of theirs, just in case their plan A in collecting the Oddmund girl¡¯s portion of the inheritance fell through.

    Plan B would involve this handful of hired swords, whose mixture of grunge and semi-decent equipment suggested that they¡¯d been soldiers from some local army not to long ago. One¡¯s who¡¯d chosen to discharge themselves rather then wait for their kingdom to set them free. Deserters.

    However all this was supposed to have been for the future, no one would have expected that the vis-Oddmund family would jump into the river at the first sight of smoke before letting McBriars and their people build even a minor fire first.

    Simultaneously marrying the girl off and sending the girl away before the McBriars could even begin to act with any real earnest.

    ¡°Hail, stranger¡­¡± said a groggy, half drunk Horace. Not recognizing his half-sister because he hadn¡¯t expected to see her.

    ¡°Hi¡­¡± said Edwin.

    ¡°Evening, sirrah¡­¡± said Vanessa. Nervous, because she¡¯d definitely recognized her brother, even if ¡°he¡± was too drunk to remember that the McBriars were the only family with their particular cloudy, sky-blue coloring in Otmar. If you discover this narrative on Amazon, be aware that it has been stolen. Please report the violation.

    The two groups passed each other and for a moment there Van thought they¡¯d made it, passing through undetected and unmolested.

    ¡°Oi...Hold on a second there friend...Sorry, bout this for a second but, d¡¯you mind if we chat for a bit.¡± said a voice, calling at couples backs.

    ¡°Don¡¯t stop.¡± whispered Van. Urging Edwin, to continue going, hoping he¡¯d read the mood and stir the horses into a gallop.

    Edwin kept going and Horace kept calling. He considered running but he didn¡¯t like the idea of being of chased so he stopped after a few minutes of letting the group trail after Van and him. Doing so purposefully to draw them away from the town and any witnesses waiting at the gates.

    ¡°Mhm? Yeah, We¡¯ve got time.¡±

    Horace came back, closing the distance between himself and the couple in the wagon with the hired-swords trailing behind him.

    Horace blinked, shaking his head, as if he could just shake off his inebriated state. Surprisingly enough it was partially successful, or perhaps it wasn¡¯t that much of a surprise.

    The Jotnar were similar to the dwarves and all other giantkin, in that they had higher functioning metabolisms that allowed them to operate relatively normally at blood alcohol levels that would thoroughly incapacitate other races.

    ¡°You, girly...Are you-?... Do I know you from somewhere?¡±

    ¡°N-...¡± Van was about to try and lie, but then one of the swordsmen, the one in the lead cut in.

    ¡°You mean you don¡¯t recognize your own sister?¡±

    Horace blinked and then he smiled, surprised at his luck. It seemed that plan B had just overtaken plan A.

    ¡°Oh...oh is that so...Oi, little sister. Come here and chat with big bro, yeah? Maybe we can all sit down and have some tea?¡±

    The inside of Van¡¯s head went blank as she tried to think up a safe response. The moment of silence was broken by a crack like that of distant thunder.

    ¡°Cor!¡±

    ¡°What in blazes?!¡±

    ¡°Hell~!¡±

    The hired-swords cried out, shifting into defensive positions around their leader. Horace groaned on the ground some thirty metres away.

    He¡¯d been sent flying. Rolling about loosely like a water balloon, till he finally found his bones again and unsteadily got to his feet.

    ¡°What the hell was that for friend?¡± said Horace. Eyes narrow, half his face bloodied and blue as if he¡¯d been struck by the boy¡¯s fists instead of a blast of kinetic force. .

    ¡°You should probably go.¡± said Edwin. His tone just as jovial and genteel as it had been moments before.

    ¡°You want to go friend! We can ¡°go¡± right now, if that¡¯s what you¡¯re looking for!¡± roared the leader of the hired swords.

    Edwin ignored the man, handing the reins over to Van and getting down from the carriage despite her silent objections.

    ¡°My wife and I...are headed off to greener pastures and other horizons, so I¡¯d like you to send a fond farewell to those siblings of yours. A farewell and our dearest appologies. I¡¯m afraid, we haven¡¯t any time for tea today.¡± said Edwin.

    Stepping into the midst of the swordsmen as if they weren¡¯t there. The group of hired-swords taking no action as if they¡¯d been reduced to training dummies.

    Edwin dusted the blue-skin jotun noble off. Helping him straighten his clothing, as if he were the man¡¯s attendant and hadn¡¯t just used his kinetic field to knock the man off his horse and onto his ass.

    ¡°You look tired, Mr.Briar. Go home.¡±

    ¡°....¡±

    Horace stared wide-eyed, as anger was replaced by fear and then catatonia. He couldn¡¯t put words on what had changed but somehow the air seemed to have grown several degrees colder.

    Horace trembled staring at the young man as if he¡¯d suddenly grown a second head, one full of teeth and fire.

    No one stopped him when he ran off and it wouldn''t be till much later that even he realized that his response had been somewhat extreme and irrational. Since it was simply just not possibly for a boy under twenty to have an aura that terrifying.

    As they watched their would-be employer leave, the two dozen or so, hired,... -and seemingly fired-,... swords stared with mouths agape. A few didn¡¯t understand what had happened. Those who were more seasoned had some guesses, but didn¡¯t believe it.

    Their leader was the one who recovered first grabbing Edwin by the shoulder and striking him in the face with his fist.

    The boy didn¡¯t fall, but he did stumble away falling back out of the group.

    ¡°I don¡¯t know what you think you¡¯re doing brat, but I¡¯m thinking it won¡¯t matter when I cut you in half in a few second.¡± said the group¡¯s captain.

    Edwin, who didn¡¯t seem at all worse for the wear despite having taken a blow from a special ranked swordsmen just shrugged.

    ¡°Ladies and gentlemen, as you can see, you¡¯re patron has already left, you can either follow him or you can do something regrettable.¡±

    The captain growled, eyes narrowed, brow lowered, he drew his sword and like with its horns lowered he charged.

    Edwin sighed, he stepped in front of Van and his¡¯s carriage mentally throwing up a small barrier around it. Then he opened his mouth,and piercing cry escaped him, like the sound of a dying eagle crossed with the sound of a car alarm. A cry that was agonized and keening, almost too high for Jotun ears to hear. The fired-swords horses went wild, bucking and whinnying, trying to bolt.

    Those who were on horseback were thrown off. The horses of the hired-swordsmen¡¯s carriage ran off, with a few swordsmen still inside holding on for dear life.

    Those who were on the ground were unnerved by the display but physically unaffected. By this point in time, they were forced to accept that the trouble that their employer and them had found was a different order than that they usually dealt with.

    ¡°Get em¡¯.¡± said their Captain. Bellowing the order and leading the charge.

    It wasn¡¯t that he was a particularly hot headed man, it was just that he felt that by this point in time it was already too late to talk things down and there was still a hope that their numbers would be able to beat whatever tricks the man had up his sleeve.

    Edwin danced between the group, wading through their swinging blades. The sell-swords did their best to try and cut him down, yet somehow they never manage to cut as much as a hair. The flow of their attack continually being interrupted and being reduced to blind flailing.

    Edwin delivered deft blow after deft blow, driving his fist into the faces of the men and women around that surrounded him. Breaking bones. Dancing in place and making his violent display into a sort of brutal high art.

    Eventually, no more swordsmen were standing, one or two had died, weak conditions combining with the damage they¡¯d taken to make for a state that was impossible to come back from.

    Others, most, were just badly hurt, their horns, pride and blades broken. They lay in a heap on the ground. All of them unconsciousness, trembling as if they were having bad dreams.

    Van stared at her husband, realizing that her mouth was hanging open a little she closed it and gave the boy a disgruntled frown.

    ¡°You know...you really shouldn¡¯t have done that.¡± said Vanessa.

    Edwin, pulled his fingers through his hair sighing, giving the woman a frown of his own, before the look defaulted back to his usual goofy half-smile.

    ¡°I know¡­¡±

    He really did know, but after determining that they wouldn¡¯t be able to get out of that situation without at least being involved in ¡°some¡± manner of altercation, he¡¯d decided that taking a hard approach would be favorable to a soft one.

    Adopting the Jotnar view that it was better to look like a bold bandit than a frightened sneak thief, if one was going to be caught stealing anyway.

    ¡°Then why do it?¡± said Van.

    ¡°Cause I¡¯m stupid?¡± said Edwin. Giving a half-serious answer. If he looked a little deeper beneath his surface thoughts on the situation, Edwin knew he¡¯d find a bit of frustration and dissatisfaction with his and Van¡¯s situation.

    He¡¯d spent far too many life times with his life just out of control and his choices being taken from him.

    It wasn¡¯t impossible that the truth was, that while being perfectly happy to help his family and his sister, getting important life choices taken away from him, had lead to a buildup of negative feelings.

    Edwin couldn¡¯t really be sure because he generally avoided looking that deeply into his own mental state unless he really had to.

    There was no denying that he felt somewhat refreshed now though. Mysteriously more at peace after having turned his inner-discomfort into some serious outer-discomfort, for the sell-swords who lay crumpled on the ground around him.

    As for Vanessa, she too was feeling slightly better about things after watching Edwin fight. It wasn¡¯t something petty such as getting satisfaction from watching someone else beat a group that she¡¯d have been too weak to take on, on her own.

    No, she felt slightly better, because Edwin¡¯s display was a tangible reminder that no matter how unplanned and undesirable the reasons for her wedding and her departure from her hometown, at the very least she¡¯d married a man with sufficient capabilities and strength.

    In Embla, a man with the skills to take on two dozen armed men on his own, was a man with a bright future ahead of him.

    ¡°Well...let¡¯s go.¡± said Edwin.

    ¡°...Yeah.¡± said Van. Blinking away, the disorganized thoughts that were drifting through her head.

    She waited for Edwin to climb back onto the wagon but he didn¡¯t simply staring at her.

    Edwin and Van sank into a small staring match for a half a minutes time, till Edwin¡¯s snapped his fingers making the woman blink. Suddenly the area they were standing in was bathed in light.

    Van stared up at the sky, gaping at the dark fin shaped form that could be seen silhouetted by the blinding halo above them.

    ¡°What the hell is that?¡± said Van.

    ¡°Our ride¡­¡± said Edwin.

    ¡°What? What ride?¡± said Van. Struggling to look past the light. Shading her eyes to get a better view of the dark form that hung above their heads.

    Edwin smiled, as he mentally activated his ship¡¯s teleporter.

    ¡°Come on...I promise you won¡¯t hate it. I¡¯ve been told the experience is actually pretty neat.¡±

 13: Top of the World

    To her eyes Embla was a yellow-green bauble, covered in swirling white and gray mists. At first she¡¯d been scared, taken aback by the change in perspective. Not sure she could adjust to the heights to which she and he, had climbed.

    But just like most people, who didn¡¯t believe they could make it and still ended up standing there at the end, she did adjust.

    ¡°Husband, dearest...I don¡¯t suppose you¡¯d like to explain, what in the nine hells all this is?!¡±

    Edwin startled. He¡¯d been sleeping, floating in a tub of liquid interface, while he synced his with the motherbox of the vessel they were in. Beginning the final process of linking the ship¡¯s neural structures with his own.

    As he sat up, some of the blue waters that he was floating in sloshed over the rim of the cooling-pool and onto the floor. Instantly evaporating into nothing

    ¡°Huh?¡±

    ¡°Where are we? What is this place? What is this ¡®thing¡¯?!¡± said Vanessa.

    He blinked looking down at the display that seamlessly flowed from the ceiling to the walls, to the floor, showing the cosmos outside the ship and the world that they were sailing over.

    He looked to his new wife, frowning thinking about what kind of answer to give her. And as always he decided that it was just simply easier to tell the truth.

    ¡°A ship¡­¡±

    ¡°This...this thing that¡¯s flying in the sky...No...Above the sky...Is supposed to be a ship?!¡±

    ¡°Yes. It¡¯s a spaceship...well, more of an airship than a spaceship really, since I¡¯ve changed some things so it can fly within Embla¡¯s atmosphere, as well as beyond her orbit...but still it¡¯s just a ship.¡± said Edwin.

    Van processed his words, parsing them, cutting through the nonsense that she either couldn¡¯t understand or had no need for at the moment.

    ¡°Wait, you¡¯re saying you made this thing?¡±

    Unauthorized duplication: this tale has been taken without consent. Report sightings.Edwin nodded.

    There was a very strong compulsion for Nemesis AIs to have proper housing. In Edwin¡¯s case, proper housing meant having an actual vessel for his sentience to reside in.

    And it seemed that this compulsion had lasted even after his death and forced reincarnation at the hands of the angels.

    Thus for the last sixteen years he¡¯d used his nanites to build construction drones and refinement forges to collect and construct the ship, that his mind would have resided in, were he not actually a real boy and instead of machine.

    ¡°The hardest part was collecting all the dirt for the initial stages...After I made machines that could make more of themselves and make more machines for my purposes it was just a matter of giving the right instructions.¡±

    Vanessa kneaded a knot that was building up in the center of her forehead and then sighed.

    ¡°You mean to say that you built this thing out of dirt?¡±

    ¡°The universe was originally just mostly hydrogen and helium, and yet new stars and worlds are still being born every day. It isn¡¯t too strange that anyone with enough knowledge of the laws of matter and energy could convert one type of matter into another.¡± said Edwin. Absentmindedly scratching the back of his neck.

    The real pain had been collecting the necessary energy required for the first portion of the conversion process, it got more expensive to three-d print particles depending on how fundamental the change you were trying to make.

    Changes in shape were easier than changes in molecular build. Changes in molecular build up were easier than changes in atomic structure. Changes in atomic structure were easier than changes on the sub-atomic scale.

    Strangely enough the state didn¡¯t matter, though maybe that was because the printing process requirement everything to be reduced to a plasmoid state for the transmutation to be possible.

    The limitations in how much energy he could gather for the project at any one time, and how much physical matter he could collect without gathering any unwanted attention, being his main reason for making the spaceship a miniature one.

    Modifying its size and its design so that it was more a combination of shuttle and airship, than an actual spaceship, though it did have all the necessary warp functions in place, should the inconceivable happen and he and his have to evacuate the planet.

    Edwin doubted anything of that sort would happen, so he mostly just used the warp engines to supplement the space folding abilities that he¡¯d started cultivating within his biological body.

    As well as modifying the spaces within the ship itself, making them more congruent with what his former body had looked like on the on side. Which was miles and miles of honeycombed rooms.

    Vanessa sighed and shook her head. Once again she didn¡¯t know whether to laugh or to cry. Her husband had just nonchalantly claimed to be dabbling in the domain of the gods and considering where they were and considering that as far she knew the boy didn¡¯t really know how to lie, she was inclined to believe him.

    She¡¯d spent her entire youth telling people about his oddness and he¡¯d properly stood by her side corroborating each, and every one of her stories. Which in hindsight probably hadn¡¯t helped her case.

    ¡°Mhm...Alright. Fine. Might I ask why we¡¯re here?¡±

    ¡°Because travelling by carriage would have been slow and uncomfortable.¡±

    She almost flipped out, asking why he was suddenly giving reasonable answers in a thoroughly unreasonable situation.

    ¡°Right. Silly me. I don¡¯t suppose you have a...place I can lie down in here, do you?¡±

    Edwin smiled. Looking like the oversized child he really was.

    ¡°Oh, that¡¯s easy, just ask the ship to lead you wherever you want to go...it is a part of me after all. If its somewhere that¡¯d take too far to walk the ship can just teleport you there.¡± said Edwin.

    She blinked twice, pale blue eyelashes fluttering, but she managed to keep her expression fairly stable. She felt something inside her head sliding out of place, but hid the strain she was feeling behind her typical calm collected veneer.

    ¡°Right...thanks. I¡¯ll...uh...I¡¯m a bit a tired. Excuse me.¡±

 14: Do What You Do

    Several hundred miles north of the Emerald Steppes, around three months riding if travelled to on horseback, and nearer to the lusher greener, center of the Harta continent, was Einrode.

    One of the richer duchies of Palmas, which was in turn one of the richer kingdoms in the land.

    It sat on the delta of one of the continent¡¯s largest and longest rivers, serving as a hub for trade. As time passed, it grew bigger and bloated. With light and shadow intermingling in its eaves and darkest crevasses.

    Becoming a place where demons and spirits were known to gather. Chief amongst its cities was Vignale. A city that sat on the duchies outer edge, bordering the Otmar duchy and one other lorded region. Serving as the contact point between the three lands.

    It was in this place that one Wallace vis-Oddmund, who now went by the handle of Wally the Cutter had set up stakes.

    He currently sat at the Night-Rose tavern, a drinking house and bordello, where he and his friends generally came to play.

    At the moment he was being accompanied by a young Jotun by the name of Frazier, with sunflower yellow skin and horns like that of a ram¡¯s. As well as few other folks he tended to pal around with.

    ¡°Drink up, kid. You did good out there.¡± said Wallace.

    The younger man took the glass that was proffered, and downed its contents. Grimacing, his eyes watering as the liquor burned its way down into his gullet.

    Wallace pat the boy''s back as he began to cough and sputter. The other¡¯s who sat at the table, hooted and hollered, while giving good humored, half mocking applause.

    They made a lot of noise, but since this was the kind of place where people came to make and hear noise, no one really paid the group any mind.

    Loud twanging music played in the background, accompanied by cymbals and drums. Ironically enough the song the bard on stage was singing, was about how country was better than big city living.

    A sentiment that few who were in attendance would ever publicly agree with.

    Wallace and his crew did what they usually did on the weekend drinking and drinking and drinking some more. Till they were all red in the face regardless of essence alignment and drunk enough to make some regrettable decisions.

    A few of the fellows would go home with each other, pairing off male with male, male with female, female with female. Whatever their preference, joining together for some mostly enjoyable, slightly regrettable, moonlit interactions they¡¯d never undertake were they sober.

    A few of the more cautious ones, who didn¡¯t want to put friendships and the integrity of the group at risk, would stumble their way upstairs to pay for a roll in the sheets.

    Wallace would usually be amongst those who stayed downstairs, hanging around till another group that they were familiar with came in so, that he and his cohorts could talk smack and buy themselves a fight, and a bit of healthy ¡°exercise¡± to work off the liquor in their systems.

    Sex was good yes, but there was nothing more satisfying to him than a good rumble on the streets of Vignale, making hay to the guards came to scare off all the troublemakers. The tale has been taken without authorization; if you see it on Amazon, report the incident.

    *****

    This evening¡¯s fight was with a jotun by the name of Paxton. Paxton was the kind of funny man, who was overly serious and easy to get to. It only took Wallace three barbs and a single insinuation that the man¡¯s mother had been intimate with goats to make this particular fight come into being.

    Now Paxton¡¯s boys and Wallace¡¯s boys and Wallace and Paxton themselves were throwing down on the street outside the tavern.

    Careful to keep their weapons sheathed, lest blood be spilled and the situation become something serious and less enjoyable.

    Feeling the ache in one¡¯s knuckles as they kissed the other fellow¡¯s bones. Feeling one¡¯s bones creak as they were graced by a rain of kicks and punches.

    For Wallace, sly, clever, violent Wallace, it was ecstasy. As if he were living out all the martial ambitions that his father had been forced to leave behind.

    There were almost never any clear winners or losers when Wallace fought, he was too good to be beaten and too smart to push things to far.

    So this time, just like always the fight only lasted for as long as took for the city guardsmen to arrive with Wallace and his boy¡¯s having already scattered by the time the first man in Vignale-marked leathers showed up on the scene.

    ¡°Did you fucking see that guy¡¯s face, man?¡± said one of his pals.

    ¡°I know right?¡± said another.

    ¡°How about when Olly knocked that fat one on his ass?¡­¡± said a third

    ¡°Bloody hilarious. How about that one with extra horns growing in along the side of his...the one who went all mental and started trying to bite everyone?¡± said a fourth. Patricia, who¡¯d always been somewhat closer to Wallace than the rest.

    Her¡¯s had been the face that greeted him when his parents and their clan first sent him to this city. Her hands were the one¡¯s that guided him as he tried to get settled, and adjust to the faster pacing of the Einrode duchy, after having spent move of his life, out in the sticks.

    They got to their side of town, the section of the city run by their people. There, their faces were familiar, and the people gave honest smiles when they saw them pass.

    ¡°Hey Wally.¡±

    ¡°Wallace, my man.¡±

    ¡°Patricia, say hi to your ma for me.¡±

    ¡°Otto, you still owe me fifty silver, you dead beat!¡±

    Stopping intermittently to chat with the people they met on the road, the ten minute walk back to the lodging house that they all roomed at lasted three times as long.

    Patricia¡¯s mom ran the place, looking like an older duplicate of her daughter. Same stalwart build. Same orange coloring, same bull-like horns and sharp, mischievous eyes.

    ¡°Heya, evening, Missus Patterson, how goes it.¡± said Wallace. Sobering up as he saw the woman.

    ¡°Hi, mom!¡± said Patricia, who was still a bit drunk and too high of the adrenaline rush she¡¯d gotten from the fight to notice that her mother was staring daggers at them.

    ¡°Hmph...hi, kids. I don¡¯t suppose it¡¯d be worth it to say I hope you¡¯ve not been getting into any trouble out there?¡± said Cecile Patterson. Mother of Patricia Patterson and owner of the Winking Calf Lodging House.

    This got a snort from somewhere in the back of the group, which got whoever had started to laugh a smack on the back of the head from his fellows.

    ¡°Shut the fuck up, Otto!¡±

    ¡°Ow! What the hell?!¡±

    ¡°Language children!¡± chided Cecile.

    ¡°Sorry, Ms.Patterson.¡± said the group of young adults.

    Cecile nodded and stepped aside to let the group of rogues pass, just as Wallace was about to enter she placed a hand on his shoulder and pulled him aside.

    ¡°Ma¡¯am?¡± said Wallace.

    ¡°You have some visitors here to see you, Wally?¡±

    Wallace frowned wondering who that might be. Even when he¡¯d been just another of Otmar¡¯s bored little hell raisers, he¡¯d been smart enough to know when to tow the lines, so he couldn¡¯t imagine any authorities coming for him.

    Besides that, all the friends he had were in the lodging house and even if it were one of their lot who lived elsewhere, Missus Patterson wouldn¡¯t have called them visitors.

    Cecile pointed her chin towards the portion of the lodging house that served as a coffee house during the day time. The room now sitting dark with all its chairs upturned and stacked on their adjoining tables.

    Wallace entered the room and saw one table with its chair placed back on the ground. And seated at the table was a young Jotnar couple. A man with green hair, and blue-silver eyes, and a woman with skin like the sky and hair like the clouds.

    Wallace¡¯s brow furrowed because while he¡¯d been sent word to expect the woman at some point in the future he had expected to see her for at least few more months.

    As for the young man, the reasons while he was present didn¡¯t matter though Wallace was sure he could make a few educated guesses. All that mattered was that he was someone sporting the distinctive vis-Oddmund unicorn horn.

    ¡°Well, as I live and breathe, little bro and baby sis, or should I say little Eddy and Sister ¡¯-in-law¡¯ Vanessa. I totally wasn¡¯t expecting to see you here, but fuck it...Come and give your big bro a hug, anyway.¡±

 15: Fever Pitch

    Sometimes people didn¡¯t know how badly they¡¯d been hurt by something. Unaware that their lives were in danger.

    A brawler might take one too many blows to the head and not be aware till he lay down, to rest, never to stand again. A soldier might take a fatal cut or catch an arrow and not learn of it, till he¡¯d almost bled out.

    An alchemist might slowly be poisoned to death whilst working in her lab, each breath bringing her closer to the end.

    Sometimes people thought they were fine, when they really weren¡¯t. And that was the case for Van.

    She¡¯d thought she was prepared, she¡¯d thought was resigned. She¡¯d believed she had resolved herself, putting her focus on the future rather than thinking on the regretful past. .

    She thought that she¡¯d somehow accepted how her life had fallen apart in just a few days time, leaving her jobless, homeless, and unexpectedly married.

    And granted, she was well aware that the way things had turned out, were far from the worst possibilities that could have come to pass.

    She could have been captured. She could have been forced to sire some legal inheritor for her troublesome wealth, and then subsequently passed of the same ¡°disease¡± that her mother had died of.

    But she didn¡¯t and for that she was indeed grateful. But at the same time...for someone who highly valued predictability, for someone who generally needed to have control in her life, everything that had passed made for quite the heavy blow.

    Heavier than she knew, the weight of it slowly sneaking up on her till some time after she and Edwin were inside his ship and she just suddenly found herself feeling exhausted.

    Dead on her feet, but in a vague sort of way, like she knew she needed to lie down, but couldn¡¯t really find a place to do it.

    She asked if the ship had a bedroom and Edwin answered to the affirmative telling her to follow the lights on the floor.

    Which she did, half hypnotized by the pulsating rainbow trail that flowed out from underneath her feet. Running just a few feet ahead of her, like an over eager dog.

    Eventually the light disappeared, stopping at a blank wall, or rather what she thought was a blank wall. She stared at it, not knowing what to do, had she reached out towards the wall, the wall would have opened up revealing the room inside.

    And were she not so preoccupied she would have realized that there was in fact a slight door shaped recess in the wall to indicate that such a thing was possible.

    Not knowing what else to do, she stood there lost for a few minutes, just staring till she saw there was one nearby door that was indeed open.

    She stepped through it and found herself in a room with a great swirling pool of roiling blue- silver. Frothing like a troubled sea.

    Naturally, she wasn¡¯t so far gone that she¡¯d assume that this was Edwin¡¯s version of a bedroom, the boy wasn¡¯t ¡°that¡± odd. And even if he was, she trusted that he¡¯d at least have the common sense to know that this wouldn¡¯t be what she meant when she asked for a place to lie down.

    Which begged the question of what the pool actually was.

    She stood at its edge, as if mesmerized till suddenly and inexplicable she found herself with a burning desire to know. Remembering how Edwin said that the ship was a part of him, she only felt a ¡°little¡± self-conscious as she talked to the empty air.

    ¡°Hey, Eddy, can I ask you something?¡±

    The room hummed, and then Edwin appeared from within a blindingly bright doorway.

    ¡° You called?¡±

    She rubbed her eyes, some remnants of the light from the doorway still burnt into her retinas. Half of her wanted to ask, just what that light was, and why it looked so damn inviting, but the rest of her was still obsessing over the pool.

    ¡°What¡¯s this pool?¡±

    Edwin looked at the roiling silver-blue waters, mulling over his answer. It wasn¡¯t that he was considering whether to lie or not, it was more that he wasn¡¯t sure how to even begin explaining the mechanisms and science inherent in his person, to someone from a comparatively primitive world.

    She of course was looking at the water as well, and it was like that moment where one is standing at the edge of the roof of a very tall building, and a very dangerous, very insidious little voice starts asking why you can¡¯t take just a few more steps forward. Support the creativity of authors by visiting Royal Road for this novel and more.

    ¡°Well, uh...so within my personage, there are these...elements. They make me stronger, they make me faster, they make me smarter. Their pretty responsible for who and what I am and they ensure that instead of getting weak with time, I¡¯m always getting stronger.¡±

    ¡°Okay¡­¡± said Van. Finding Edwin¡¯s explanation mostly believable.

    ¡°Yeah, so, this pool is pretty much just entirely made up of those elements. And when I¡¯m in it, it further boosts my body¡¯s ability to improve itself, heal itself and maintain itself.¡±

    Van nodded, understanding the gist of what he¡¯d said, feeling too drained to worry about the fact that she was probably missing some underlying aspect of what he was saying.

    ¡°So this is a pool filled with the stuff that makes you stronger?¡±

    ¡°Er...r-, right.¡± Edwin. Slowly getting a sense that something was off about the young woman beside him.

    She leaned over the edge of the pool, staring at her tired reflection,

    ¡°So, what would happen if someone who wasn¡¯t you were to get inside the pool?¡± said Van.

    Edwin actually paused to consider, his expression thoughtful.

    ¡°Mhm¡­.Well, in that case I suppose it depends on their classification.¡±

    ¡°Classification?¡±

    ¡°Without getting too tangled up in the details, this is a pool of pure creation and destruction. Non-friendlies and hostiles would probably be ripped apart, dissolved like in acid, or I don¡¯t know...lava?¡­¡±

    The first warning that Van wasn¡¯t in her right mind probably should have come to her when heard that found herself not horrified, or at least slightly more wary from what she¡¯d heard.

    ¡°And, let¡¯s say that they are friendlies¡­¡±

    ¡°Then the pool would probably make them stronger too, filling them with the same¡­¡±elements¡± that are inside of me, albeit at a slightly lower concentration, since it takes a while for them to fully innundate and assimilate with a new unit¡­.Building them up into a bigger, stronger them.¡±

    Again, Van just nodded. Still staring at her own reflection as if she expected it to speak.

    ¡°Uh...huh...Good to know¡­ Now just asking here, what would a wife count as?¡±

    Again Edwin had to think before deciding on his answer.

    ¡°An allied unit? Authorized ship personnel? Or maybe just someone who''s part of the command structure?¡­I¡¯m honestly not sure...I¡¯ve never been married before.¡± he said. Chuckling nervously.

    She understood the ally part, and she knew what personnel was, and so discarded the command structure part as half gibberish.

    ¡°Again...good to know.¡±

    *Sploosh*

    She was in the pool before she even had time to really think about what she was doing. It wasn¡¯t some strange new obsession about being a better version of herself. It wasn¡¯t that her eyes had been opened to the virtues of strength and the suffering inherent in weakness. It was just a simple strange desire to see what that water feel like. A desire to try and literally drown her troubles.

    Van jumped into the pool of blue-silver water. And was unsurprised to find that it didn¡¯t feel water. It felt closer to shimmery, shivery air. Thick like syrup, dragging her down and filling her lungs and nostrils. As well as all the rest of her facial orifices.

    Some of it poured into her mouth, the rest found other entrances, going through her pores and any other holes it could find. It was like jumping into the sea only to find out that all the water was made of spiders.

    At first it hurt, at first the creepy, crawly feeling of insects crawling inside her skin, moving up and down her veins and capillaries was bad enough that she believed she¡¯d finally hurled herself off the precipice of madness.

    Then the pain stopped, and a contentment took its place.

    As a harried Edwin, hurriedly entered his system protocol to change her permissions, and she floated in the pool as little more than nervous tissue and a few free floating organs suspended in a pool of blood.

    He stopped the kill command and ordered a reconstruction, and thankfully between the pools programing that had it scan everything it enveloped before either remaking it or destroying it, and Edwin¡¯s numerous scans of his family members, just in case some kind of health problem turned up that he needed to use nanotech to resolve, was enough that nanites new how to put back what they¡¯d eaten away.

    For Van, it was just pain and then comfort and then something beyond comfort. The term womb-like isn¡¯t used very often and for good reason. But that was what this was, it felt like Van¡¯s dead mother had come back from the other side and pulled the girl back inside of her. Letting her be born again.

    A period of gestation that lasted for a roughly twenty-four hours time, till she was finally ready to come out.

    With a worried Edwin standing by the side.

    ¡°.....¡±

    Van climbed, clear headed and refreshed. Not quite understanding why she¡¯d done what she¡¯d done but aware that it was definitely very dangerous and incredibly stupid. From the unhappy and very relieved look on Edwin¡¯s face, she knew that if he were her, he¡¯d be yelling at her. Telling her just how stupid she had been. But Edwin, wasn¡¯t a yeller.

    ¡°You¡¯re okay right? Everything¡¯s functional.¡± said Edwin.

    ¡°Nn¡­¡± said Van. Not really responding Mostly because she didn¡¯t really know answer to the question.

    He pulled her close, and then sort of stumbled back once he just realized that she was naked, since apparently the pool didn¡¯t recognize her clothing as being part of her. Eating it away.

    For a moment they both felt awkward because she was naked, and because they both knew she¡¯d done something, outlandishly foolish.

    For a few seconds she felt mortified and extremely embarrassed, till it struck her that the other person was her husband, and he wasn¡¯t seeing anything she hadn¡¯t expected to show him later.

    Which left only the cause of her nakedness, as a source of embarrassment.

    ¡°I..uh...where¡¯s the bedroom again?¡± said Van. Slightly dazed. And needing to get away to collect herself and figure out what she¡¯d just done, as well as why she¡¯d done it.

    Edwin pointed towards the open door and a section of the wall on the other side of the hallway slid away, revealing a somewhat sterile looking but otherwise normal bedroom, complete with mattress, wardrobe and a desk.

    ¡°There¡¯s uh..there¡¯s some clothes in the closet, it¡¯s probably not very fashionable but it¡¯s made to be comfortable and it¡¯ll definitely fit.¡±

    ¡°Thanks¡­¡± said Van.

    Confused and frightened, her thoughts muddled. She wasn¡¯t quite sure what she was thinking, or if she¡¯d been thinking at all.

    *****

    Now forty-eight hours after losing her mind and finding it again, Vanessa vis-Oddmund sat in front of her former brother and current brother in law.

    Wallace hugged Edwin and then he hugged her.

    They made small talk, giving vague but mostly truthful explanations of what happened before they left their hometown.

    And while all this was happening, a small part of Van was looking at herself, and looking over her actions, and just sort of knocking its head against a wall.

    Filled with an intense recrimination because she knew for a very short period, she¡¯d nearly killed herself, and while she was mostly sure that dying hadn¡¯t been her intent, she knew it was a bad choice to have made. Insane. Just simply a mad thing to do.

    That it seemed to have all worked out had no bearing on the situation. Van had never before really felt like she was her father¡¯s child, but it seemed that the McBriar madness was an actual thing. Something she¡¯d have to keep a very tight handle on. Yet another thing, she¡¯d have to keep under her control.

 16: Onwards and Forwards

    ¡°So, uh...don¡¯t take this the wrong way guys, but what the hell are you doing here? Ma and Pa gave a few hints that I might see at least one of you, around these parts in a few months, but...well, that was supposed to be in a few months.¡± said Wallace. After taking a sip from the cup of coffee that sat in front of him.

    It was the morning, following the evening of their reunion. After the initial Meetup Wallace had decided that he was probably just a tad too drunk, and his sibling and new sister-in-law too tired from their harried trip, to have a proper conversation.

    So after saying hi, he¡¯d asked Missus Patterson if she could set them up with a room. Being the kind, old, Auntie that she was, the woman said yes.

    Of course Wallace would have to pay her for the room later, but that would be later. Business was business, private was private, it was to be expected, and it wasn¡¯t like Wallace was particularly hurting for money at the moment.

    ¡°Well,...I guess, after the wedding, Mom and dad thought it¡¯d probably be a good idea if I came out to your neck of woods, to see if you could help this young sir, get on his feet.¡± said Edwin.

    Stirring more sugar into the dregs of his mostly finished coffee.

    Wallace looked at his brother and then he looked at the woman who was once his sister, who sat at the young man¡¯s side. Even without the letters that came from their parents when the trouble seemed to be starting up, Wallace would have still been able to roughly guess what had happened.

    ¡°Alright, I guess I can help you out...But first, I can¡¯t help wondering how you guys got here so fast.¡±

    Edwin opened his mouth, but it was Vanessa who answered. Wearing a wry expression as she softly blew into her tea.

    ¡°Well, you know our brother...he¡¯s always had a strange hobby or two...It just turned out that one of these made travelling a little more convenient for us.¡± said Van.

    Her answer was vague, but even someone as socially inept as Edwin could read between the lines. Not to mention clever, old Wallace. The genuine version of this novel can be found on another site. Support the author by reading it there.

    Wallace looked around, his eyes passing over the other patrons that sat in the cafe. Most of them were friends and people he knew from this particular quarter in the city, but it was still not too strange if she felt the need to be cautious about who heard of what exactly happened.

    Wallace took note of it, reminding himself to ask about what exactly happened later, in a more private setting.

    If whatever the details were, were that sensitive, he¡¯d definitely want to know more about it later. Vanessa¡¯s reticence had made him curious.

    While he¡¯d always been one of those who was content to let well enough alone when it came to his brother¡¯s strange antics, he¡¯d also been one of the few who believed the younger Van when she¡¯d come talking of the strange things she¡¯d seen her baby brother doing.

    ¡°Mhm...I guess that was lucky then...In that case, I hope you guys don¡¯t mind me asking what you¡¯re plans ar-¡±

    Wallace¡¯s words were interrupted by a loud clap on his shoulder. He looked up and saw a familiar cheeky face looking down at him. Orange like a tangerine, pretty like the sun rise.

    Bright white teeth flashing amidst a wide, slightly mean-spirited, smile.

    ¡°Ah, isn¡¯t brother Wally being cold now...Aren¡¯t you going to introduce your family to the folk who¡¯ve adopted you in the city?¡±

    Wallace rolled his eyes at Patricia¡¯s diatribe. She and several of the usual suspects had come to introduce themselves and see what kind of kinfolk that the slightly infamous Wally the Cutter, would have.

    Having waited till the appropriate amount of time had passed, to purposefully come and make trouble for their friend as he¡¯d so kindly done before.

    ¡°Hmph,... Edwin, Vanessa, meet Patty and the boys. Patty and co, meet my little brother and his new wife.¡±

    ¡°Oi, say our names dammit!...Somehow I feel like my existence becoming even less heavy each time you say that...What¡¯ll you do if I suddenly float away?!¡± complained Otto.

    No one paid him any mind.

    There were some mumbled greetings from the guys. Patricia Patterson leaned forwards proffering her hand to the young couple, who shook it in turned.

    ¡°Nice to meet you...my name¡¯s Patricia Patterson. While Wally hasn¡¯t said much about you two, I¡¯ve only ever heard good things in the things he has said.¡± said Patricia.

    ¡°Nice to meet you too, future sister-in-law. Thanks for taking care of my older bro. He¡¯s smart but sometimes he gets too clever for himself.¡± said Edwin.

    Reading the way the two sat across from each other, and the intimate way they interacted, the slight changes in hormonal level, and the times they¡¯d looked at each other in the last minute or so, and taking a fairly accurate guess at their actual relation.

    Wallace sputtered, choking on the coffee he¡¯d been drinking. Patricia turned a brighter shade of orange as the blood flowed into her cheeks.

    Vanessa who sat by the side, just smiled faintly, amused by her husband¡¯s gaffe. Whether it was her skill at reading people, or the so-called women¡¯s intuition she¡¯d been able to see that the two had something building between them, as well.

    Taking the other young woman¡¯s hand, Vanessa stood, bowing slightly at the waist. Hurrying to repair things, before things in the conversation and later between the two in mention, ended up becoming too awkward.

    ¡°Vanessa vis-Oddmund, at your pleasure. Thank you for taking care of our brother Wallace. Please don¡¯t mind my husband, he¡¯s been slightly daft since childhood.¡±

 17: Pill Form

    Edwin and Van lay in the room together, lying one next to the other. They slept in the lodging house rather than sleeping on the ship because it would have been rude...and conspicuous... to do so after all the effort Wallace and Missus Patterson had put into trying to make them feel at home.

    Inviting them out, providing meals, even offering to help them with getting things laundered.

    The people in Vignale¡¯s Unicorn Quarter, so named for the distinct Oedheim unicorn horn, were friendly folk. At least for those with relation to the Oddmund clan and their allies. Treating them like kin because with a few separations of relation, whether through blood or marriage, a lot of them ¡°were¡± kin.

    Originating from those who were sent out from the rest of the Oddmund clan and its branch families, that didn¡¯t run to Otmar. Hailing from those Oedheim clansmen who¡¯d some way or the other, escaped having to flee when the old house fell.

    As to why the couple were both sleeping on the same bed, rather than each of them lying alone on the two mattresses that made up the bed, with the mattresses pushed to separate halves of the room..

    Well, ¡°that¡± was Van¡¯s idea. One part common expectation, two parts over-compensation.

    She¡¯d finally come to accept that she was married, married to her former brother at that. She was even slightly satisfied, because context and circumstances notwithstanding, she was magnanimous enough to admit that Edwin would have made for a more than decent catch for any girl who got him.

    Reliable, and capable, with means that she didn¡¯t even have words. He¡¯d also been kind enough, not to laugh at her for her moment of odd-minded foolishness back on the ship. Mostly just asking if she was okay, and quietly keeping an eye on her, for the rest of their flight over to Vignale.

    Still, She knew that saying that one accepted something, was an entirely different matter when it came to actually accepting it. So she¡¯d started making small steps towards the goal of getting them to act like a real married couple.

    She hadn¡¯t quite worked up her nerve to the point of broaching the subject of the two of them eventually getting intimate. But she did think they should at least be able to sleep in the same room without it being, incredibly, awkward.

    To her surprise, she¡¯d turned out to be right. Taking things slowly seemed to be working.

    Then she remembered that back when they were both kids and still siblings, they used to sleep together all the time. Which made it awkward again. Incredibly so, though even that eventually passed with a few days repetition.

    Still, things were progressing over time and she figured eventually all this would stop feeling so strange and uncomfortable, especially since it already felt vaguely, ¡°right¡± or rather, since it already felt vaguely inevitable. But inevitable in a good way, mostly..probably.

    Like the momentum of a rolling wheel. A wheel that rolled in a not unacceptable or unfortuitous direction.

    Rolling down the side of the hill that lead ¡°away¡± from the tire fire.

    *****

    Edwin woke, careful not to disturb his wife as he left the bed, the mattress and floorboards creaking as he shifted his weight across them.

    With a single thought, and a flash of blue-white light he was in the ship. Edwin willed the ship into motion, a pulse of distant lightning, and a thrum of nearby-thunder, announcing that the vessel had begun to move.

    Vaguely recalling that heading out on long trips without warning one¡¯s significant others, was considered rude, Edwin had left a note before leaving so Van wouldn¡¯t worry.

    He figured he wouldn¡¯t be gone ¡°too¡± long. He and Van would have reached Vignale even sooner had they not had to ride out of sight of Rus, land out of sight of Vignale and wait for Van¡¯s condition to stabilize near the middle of all this.

    After she¡¯d walked into the nanite pool while in a pique. Her thoughts both distressed and disordered to an extreme.

    Without any complications coming to pass, Rus was close enough to Vignale that Edwin could be there within a day. He could perhaps even make the trip within a few hours, if he didn¡¯t mind risking, alerting any powers that be that might be watching the skies, to his ship¡¯s presence.

    Edwin reached Rus, sometime in the afternoon of the following day. He used the shipped probes to watch the situation of the town below. Watching as his father listlessly meandered through the town.

    ******

    No matter how much, he enjoyed drink and gambling, Jarek vis-Oddmund¡¯s pride and joy were his wife and his kids.

    Thus finding himself alone while his wife was off the defending the lands and his sons and one daughter were all off doing their own. Either working at developing their adult-lives like Egon and Wallace, or working on the start of their adult lives like Edwin and Van.

    He couldn¡¯t even hang out with his usual friends, his saving his adopted daughter, by sending her off with his youngest son, had peeved the main clan, their McBriar contacts and several others.

    While they were all behaving themselves in the face of Olivia, Jarek¡¯s wife¡¯s position in the County Guard, that didn¡¯t mean that Jarek wasn¡¯t getting the cold shoulder. This story has been stolen from Royal Road. If you read it on Amazon, please report it

    Just because they couldn¡¯t kill the vis-Oddmund curs that had escaped out of their reach and ruined the opportunity for them, didn¡¯t mean that faction that had wanted to sell Van off would forgive and forget.

    Every day they¡¯d try and get some petty vengeance in. Which Jarek paid no mind to. If all the drinks were filled with spit, then he¡¯d drink less. If no one wanted to play cards with him, then he¡¯d save his coins.

    And if anyone made threats against his wife and the one son that still lived in the town, busily trying to make his way up the ranks of the County Militia. Well, in that case, Jarek wasn¡¯t so far gone that he wouldn¡¯t mind biting a few people to death.

    Jarek wandered about, saying hi to the few people who¡¯d still openly say hi back. Smiling wryly at the friends who¡¯d proven false, falling in line with the silent order to shun the vis-Oddmund¡¯s for not abiding by their clan¡¯s wishes.

    Like with every day in recent times, Jarek usually finished his jaunt around town before noon. Heading home to drink where the glasses were clean. Play a bit of solitaire, or one-man chess and sleep.

    He opened the door to his home and his vigilance immediately spiked high as he realized that there was someone sitting in the main hall.

    ¡°Might I ask who it is, that¡¯s so confidently daring to make themselves at home in my house?!¡± said Jarek. Reaching for his pocket knife.

    Coldly aware that if the other person had ill-intent and strength above the ordinary level, he, Jarek was probably about to die.

    ¡°Mhm? What¡¯d you mean dad? Are you saying I¡¯m not welcome here anymore?¡±

    Jarek recognized the voice and soon quickly recognized the figure that had been sitting there half-hidden in the dark.

    He sighed and then chuckled.

    ¡°Lad, are you daft?! Sitting in the dark and not not turning on a single lamp. Are you ¡°trying¡± to give your old man a heart attack.¡±

    Edwin rubbed the back of his neck, expecting the chastisement, and realizing that he¡¯d forgotten that others couldn¡¯t see in perfect darkness like he could,...again.

    ¡°Sorry, dad.¡± said Edwin. Getting up to light a few lamps and lift the dark pall that filled the room.

    When the room was no longer as dark as pitch, Jarek sat besides his son on the couch, arms crossed, and his back reclining on the backrest.

    ¡°So...son, what¡¯re you doing back here so soon? And where¡¯s your sist-...er...I mean, where¡¯s your wife? What¡¯s happened?¡±

    Edwin sat, rifling through some bags and books, that he¡¯d brought out of his room while he was waiting for his father to come out. Making sure he¡¯d not left anything important. behind before he was forced to make his mistake.

    At some point it occurred to him that with his spatial abilities and the amount of storage space available on his ship there was no reason to fret about a few cartons worth of goods and an extra luggage bag or two.

    Phasing the things away and sending them one of the white gate ways he used to put things into stasis.

    ¡°Van¡¯s okay right? S-, son?¡± said Jarek. Blinking, forgetting the rest of his question as he saw the things disappear.

    Edwin remembered where he was and since he¡¯d never put any conscious effort to hide what he could from his family, he just opened another smaller white gate, bringing out a bottle of pills and three metallic, pre-set syringes.

    ¡°Swallow this.¡± said Edwin. His tone unusually commanding for such a happy-go-lucky boy. Startling his father into acquiescing.

    *Psht*

    Edwin pressed the syringe against his father¡¯s neck. Compressing the trigger at the top, which released both the needle and any excess gases that happened to have made into the device before piercing the man¡¯s skin and injecting its contents into his bloodstream.

    ¡°Ow! Dammit, boy?! What in blazes? Boy don¡¯t go thinking yer too old to be put over my knee!¡±

    Edwin ignored his father¡¯s outraged response. [Scan]ning the man, watching that his vitals stayed stable and that the effects of the treatment were progressing as he¡¯d intended.

    Satisfied that all had gone as planned, even though the rushed clinical trials, hastened testing and his own continued existence, had definitely confirmed a high likelihood of success, Edwin sighed in relief.

    ¡°So, um...hi dad.¡±

    ¡°What? Er, hi...No, wait. What the hell was all that about just now!? That metal thing pinched fiercely!¡± said Jarek. Still rubbing the side of his neck, which now itched as if from a fierce bug bite.

    ¡°Just something to make our family...just a little stronger.¡± said Edwin. Sitting back. Pulling out a small box to put the remaining syringes and pills within, before pushing the box closer to his father.

    ¡°What is it? What was that?¡± said Jarek.

    Feeling slightly nervous, not knowing what exactly his son had put inside him, but also trusting that his son was good enough a child.

    A filial, wise and reliable enough, that he¡¯d never purposefully try to harm him, or his mother, or his brother, who he correctly guessed the two other pills and syringes to be for.

    ¡°Something I¡¯ve been playing with for quite some time, dad. I never expected to use it for anyone else, but one way or the other, Van made me realize that this was something I could share.¡±

    The pill was filled with young nanites. It literally was just a metal shell, filled with, mostly, dormant nanites. Millions of them, all of them waiting to be introduced to a new biological environment. In which they¡¯d spread and reproduce and spread some more. Doing so benignly and repeatedly.

    The syringes were filled with a serum that was made from Edwin¡¯s own personal nanites. Two-thirds of which were distilled from his blood, one third of which was collected from the nanite pool. They were matured nanites.

    Programmed to do for whoever took them, what Van and Ed¡¯s nanites did for them. Slowly replacing, invading, and strengthening their organs and tissues. Changing their constitution till they were stronger, smarter, faster, more powerful versions of themselves.

    They would be the only such treatments, that Edwin would ever make. If he made similar, there would either be caps on their potential or controls to assure that no one but the intended user could take them. But for now, Edwin was just focused on helping his family and helping his old man, whose war wound had taken both some measure of his confidence as a man, and all his drive as an individual, when it took away his ability to cultivate.

    ¡°That¡¯s, uh, that¡¯s awfully vague son.¡± said Jarek. No longer rubbing his neck. Feeling a very curious itch taking place at his core. From whence, he¡¯d not felt anything, in a very long time.

    Edwin, looked at his father, trying to figure out how much to explain and weighing it against the amount of time he felt like spending.

    He stretched and yawned because it had been boring waiting here all this time, and risky sneaking into town. Working hard not to get spotted since any who saw him would have known who he was.

    Edwin decided he¡¯d definitely spend some time configuring his ships teleporter for quieter, more stealthy, pinpoint drops and pickups.

    An inconspicuous means that would allow him to travel to and from the ship without pulling any unwanted attention, so long as he had a private room to do so in.

    ¡°Consider it a miracle medicine, dad. One your son has worked on for quite a while, and one my wife, your adopted-daughter, tested personally. You know I¡¯d not see you guys hurt.¡± said Edwin.

    Jarek nodded accepting that last half of the statement without argument, even if the first half still left him with questions.

    ¡°Alright, and I take it that the other doses are for your ma and your brother?¡±

    ¡°Yeah.¡± Edwin nodded.

    ¡°And I can assume that you and Van are both okay?¡± said Jarek. Pushing forward the main concern he¡¯d had on his mind when he saw his son waiting for him in the dark.

    ¡°Dad, just who exactly do you think raised me? Would I be back here, if I didn¡¯t think Van was safe where I left her?¡±

    ¡°Ah, and that¡¯s another thing, where did you leave her?¡± said Jarek.

    ¡°She¡¯s in bed sleeping?¡±

    ¡°Sleeping where?¡±

    ¡°Vignale, at Wallace¡¯s place. Wallace says hi, by the way.¡±

    ¡°Wallace¡¯s place?¡± said Jarek. Brow furrowing.

    ¡°By dad. Say hi to mom and Egon for me¡­.Oh, and, Wallace says that this should probably be kept a secret in the family...The vis-Oddmund family, if you catch my drift. Van and I will probably be by later when things have calmed down in this neck of the woods and we¡¯ve gotten settled on our end.¡±

    Jarek might have been a bit of an old fool, but he wasn¡¯t an idiot. Though a man might be innocent, treasuring jade could make him a criminal. Even a child could tell you that.

    ¡°Er...sure.¡± said Jarek. Watching, mouth slightly agape as his son seemed to just disappear before his eyes, fading from view.

    Unaware of his father¡¯s reaction, Edwin activated his personal cloaking field so he could slip out through Rus¡¯ gates and walk till he was out of sight of the town himself. Running till he was far enough away from the town for his ship to pick him up.

 18: Family Jewels

    It had been a few weeks since Edwin and Van had come to stay at their brother Wallace¡¯s place. A few weeks of exchanging pleasantries. A few weeks of getting to know their city-bound kin. A few weeks of taking in the sights and seeing a fair amount of what Vignale had to offer.

    Eventually though, as things wore on, they would naturally remember that they weren¡¯t there as tourists. They were supposed to be getting settled, starting whatever life they could start in the city together, and fulfilling certain obligations that still stood between them and their family back in Otmar.

    So it was that on a certain morning while the two vis-Oddmund brother¡¯s happened to be in one of the lodging house¡¯s shared restrooms, doing their morning toilette. Standing side by side, both of them broad shouldered, both of them more than eight feet in height. Both of them green skinned, green haired with the distinctive Oddmund-Oedheim unicorn horn, one brother looked to the other and said,

    ¡°So...when is it exactly that I¡¯m gonna start working with you guys?¡±

    Wallace froze, his toothbrush held just a few inches from his face. His expression in the mirror turning complicated. First looking a little guilty, and then becoming resolved. He spat and rinsed his mouth out with a handful of water. Gargling while he came up with an appropriate answer.

    If it was before a few weeks ago... If it was before he¡¯d received the pill and the injection, that confirmed every sneaking suspicion that he¡¯d ever had concerning his brother, and revealed that even those had been an underestimation of the boy¡¯s possible prospects he might have just given an easy answer like ¡°Next Thursday.¡±

    Which was the next time that the little Mercenary Group that Wallace worked for, would be doing anything of note.

    Or more likely, he¡¯d have chosen an earlier day so he could bring the youth around the office to introduce him to the employer who¡¯d already more or less agreed to hire him with no interview necessary. As part of a long standing agreement between that person and Jarek, the boys¡¯ father.

    Unfortunately, that could no longer be the case, in Wallace¡¯s eyes to waste his brother potential on escort mission and the occasional brigandry during the leaner seasons would have been a sin. A travesty of the highest level, and prodigal squandering of the family¡¯s wealth.

    In just a few days time, after clarifying what had happened when his siblings finally left Rus and seeing what his brother was capable of, Wallace and Jarek too, how he¡¯d frequently discussed this matter with, believed that the boy was meant for greater things. Why else would they have let him and Van dither, doing nothing, as they had, were it not for this?

    The vis-Oddmunds were going to put their hopes on their youngest son. He was a boy, who as far as they could understand, or reason, seemed to have been born blessed with a legacy, an inborn inheritance that could make emperors and kings go mad.

    A legacy so valuable that they couldn¡¯t dare speak of it to anyone that wasn¡¯t related by blood, lest great calamity befall their little family. With even the normally clueless Edwin himself, seeming to be aware that even the main clan and other branch families, couldn¡¯t be trusted with this information.

    Such a treasure was like a precious seed dropped from the world tree¡¯s branches. If allowed to grow, only heaven could say what kind of mighty tree would sprout. If the tree was properly attended to, perhaps even the gods would be astounded by the fruit that would be born from it. If you spot this narrative on Amazon, know that it has been stolen. Report the violation.

    This was something that needed to be carefully and diligently attended to. Something that needed to be cultivated for all its benefits to be fully taken advantage of.

    While they were just a little branch family from the sticks with no resources for serious cultivation of any kind, that didn¡¯t mean that there weren¡¯t other ways for them to see that the boy¡¯s prospects were properly attended to.

    Wallace spat a final time wiping his face with a towel.

    ¡°Hey, Eddy¡­¡±

    ¡°Yeah?¡±

    ¡°If you had to guess, what stage would you be on essence-wise?¡± said Wallace. Giving his brother a curious side-long look.

    He¡¯d never really been able to tell. Wallace now understand that one consequence of having the elements that now ran through the blood of the entire vis-Oddmund family, was that their auras, the manifestation of their essence, were almost always suppressed.

    The peculiar nature of their constitutions also doubling as some manner of strange stealth technique.

    Erasing footsteps, breaths, and energy signatures. Erasing heart-rates, erasing killing intent, slowly eroding their presence to make them almost eerily ghost-like. Unless one made a conscious, slightly taxing effort not to hide these things.

    Which perhaps explained some of the boy¡¯s uncanniness from during his youth. Explaining why he¡¯d always seemed to not be there when he really was.

    The effect dramatic enough, that Wallace might have perhaps asked why his brother hadn¡¯t warned them at the time he was giving them the treatments.

    However considering his field of work, it wasn¡¯t necessarily a weakness, or something that would have made him balk at what his brother was offering.

    Their everyday life didn¡¯t seem to be too affected by these issues, and knowing his own curiosity, Wallace knew that even if he¡¯d been forewarned, he¡¯d have likely still taken the shot and the pill anyway.

    For his part, Edwin seemed to turn thoughtful, face scrunching up as he looked into his inner-self and the energy that was circulating within his body.

    ¡°Elite Ranked...I guess.¡±

    Wallace jolted, as if struck, he looked at his brother with an expression of faint complaint. Then he looked at his own reflection with just the slightest bit of reproach. He briefly imagined what his own prospects would have been had he backed his sister¡¯s claims when they were younger. Pushing the revelations forward sooner.

    This new physique of his was much stronger than the old one. It healed faster. Tired less and most unbelievable of all, it seemed to cultivate on its own. Truly a heaven defying constitution.

    It was like they were monsters. It was as if they¡¯d become creatures possessing legendary bloodlines.

    Simply by eating, sleeping and remaining alive, they could eventually trample over all the world with only a little bit of effort on their part.

    He banished the thoughts as he remembered that in all likelihood, a revelation of the boy¡¯s unique traits back in Rus, would have almost certainly gotten back to the main family. Especially if it was before the period when relations between the Oddmunds and the vis-Oddmunds began to cool.

    Which meant that soon the McBriars and all the other clans of Otmar would know. Which meant that at the very least the high palace of Palmas would have learned of it.

    Wallace sighed, issuing out a long slow breath. Greed and haste could destroy like a fire. It was good enough that Wallace¡¯s own future progress was assured, even if he¡¯d have to stay a ¡°mere mortal¡± for a bit longer. Doing a mortal warrior¡¯s work. It was certainly better than the eventual stagnation that others in his position had to deal with.

    It looked as if, without intending to, the scheming McBriars had helped their little family by pushing the boy out of the main family¡¯s reach.

    Wallace nodded, making up his mind and confirming his choice. Meeting his own eye in the mirror and seeing the familiar twinkle of mischief there.

    ¡°Nh...Well done, little brother. In that case there¡¯s a place I want to show you in a few days and some people I¡¯d like you to meet.¡±

    Edwin, not being privy to his brother thoughts, but familiar enough to know that the man was probably up to something, simply shrugged.

    ¡°Okie-doke.¡±

    They¡¯d been brothers from since before they both were young, and Edwin trusted that this older sibling wouldn¡¯t do anything to harm him.

    After all, Wallace had been the one most vehement on making sure that Edwin understood that his capabilities had to be kept a secret once he saw the ship and walked through its endless expenses. Wearing a look of dumbstruck awe upon his face as he walked through his younger brother¡¯s strange construct.

 19: Back of the Head

    On the Promised day, Wallace woke up early, hurriedly rousing his brother and new sister-in-law.

    As they left the lodging house, they were met by more than a few of Wallace¡¯s friends, who were similarly aware of the fact that today was a special day.

    Palmas kingdom, in which the Otmar and Einrode lands lay, was one of five countries that were lorded over by an alliance of three great sects.

    The Ironblood-Kings, The Radiant Orrichalcum Gardens, and The Courts of Steel and Amber.

    Since finding good talents amongst the common folk, was as difficult as finding rare medicines amongst the prairie grass, it became common practice for these three great sects and the many minor sects that were allied beneath them, to regularly recruit good prospects from the local populace.

    Every four months or so, the three great sects would hold a festival one that ended with a tournament for the younger generation of warriors and mages to take part in and a chance at testing one¡¯s attainments with alchemy and essence control.

    Today was one such day, a day that Wallace vis-Oddmund had been waiting for. He took his little brother and his sister-in-law down to the heart of Vignale, where music was pumping out into the streets and the common folk cried and roared.

    Seeming to go mad over the dazzling sights that their local cultivators had brought out on the display for them.

    Be it the sellers of marvelous medicines. Be it the hawkers of mouthwatering delights. Be it the trinkets and toys and weaponry that were being openly traded in roadside stalls. It would seem that almost overnight the affluent city of Vignale had been transformed into a rapturous fantasia.

    One complete with radiant fairies, that could entrance any man or women who saw them and men who flew through the air like birds. Unfettered and free, playfully fighting amongst themselves, in floating arenas.

    Carrying on airborne exhibition matches, that were being broadcast via magical projection, to almost the entire city. And anyone who happened to look at Vignale¡¯s sky that day.

    ¡°So what are we doing here, exactly¡­?¡± said a sleepy-eyed Edwin. Seemingly unmoved by the grand spectacle that was taking place all around him.

    A question which got both him and Wallace some odd looks from the crowd they¡¯d come in with.

    For her part, while Van had an inkling of what was going on, she was mostly content to observe while carrying on a conversation with Patricia, who¡¯d spent most of the walk over, trying to plumb her for details on what Wallace had been like when he was younger.

    ¡°You¡¯ll see.¡± said Wallace. Slinging his arm across his brother¡¯s shoulder and pushing the two of them through the crowd, like a large bore needle, through heavy cloth.

    At some point they all stopped by a cart to buy some kind of glazed meat skewers.

    The meat was either lamb or goat, what it was exactly didn¡¯t matter, what mattered was that it had been cooked to perfection. Crisp on the outside, tender on the inside, a melt in your mouth strip of animal flesh, covered in sumptuous, spices, onion crumb and honeyed-glaze.

    ¡°Mhm...so good.¡± said Patricia. Satisfied with the five skewers that she¡¯d quickly dispatched, and almost wishing to go back and go back and get five more.

    ¡°Oi...that one was mine, you blighter!¡± cried one of their crew. Giving the one named Otto, a light kick in the shins.

    ¡°Ow, what the fuck?!¡± If you discover this tale on Amazon, be aware that it has been unlawfully taken from Royal Road. Please report it.

    ¡°You don¡¯t eat another man¡¯s meat, man!¡± said the incensed Jotun.

    ¡°Tch...whatever. You knew what you were getting into when you asked me to hold it for you.¡± said Otto. Unrepentant, with a smear of sauce from the purloined skewer still on his lips.

    ¡°I¡¯d asked you to hold it for me, because my shoe was untied!¡±

    Taking a long route around, so they could see the sights, but keeping a hurried pace, to keep from being too late, Wallace and company eventually reached their destination. The city¡¯s grand arena.

    Instead of walking through the open gates they stopped at the booth that would normally have held the ticket-sellers.

    ¡°Oh, so that¡¯s what¡¯s got you so on edge today...you just really wanted to see the sights.¡± said Patricia. Nodding as she was finally able to make sense of her friends pushiness throughout most of the day.

    Wallace smiled, eyes bright, brows narrows.

    ¡°Right in one, Patty Cakes. There¡¯s a fighter I¡¯ve just been dying to see in action.¡±

    Patricia glowered, she hated that name. Still she said nothing, merely reminding herself to make the man pay for it.

    Wallace on the other hand, was too preoccupied to pay the flicker of emotions that played across the young ladies orange visage, any mind.

    He took his brother by the arm and absentmindedly called out to the rest of the group.

    ¡°Er, you guys go ahead...I¡¯ll catch up.¡±

    ¡°Yeah, man¡­We¡¯ll save you a seat.¡± said one of their crew.

    ¡°See you there, dude.¡± said Otto.

    Van and Patricia noticed that something was up, while the rest just went ahead to go find seats for themselves as they¡¯d been told to do. Anxious because had they been a little bit slower in their journey through the city-wide festival, they might have come to find the arena closed out, with all its seats already taken.

    *****

    Cornell Takao, of the Courts of Steel and Amber, and Leon Skinner, of the Orrichalcum Gardens were both elders of the outer-circles of their respective sects.

    This was perhaps the twentieth time that Cornell had come out to over his juniors as the represented their sect and tried to recruit from the populace.

    While Leon was experiencing this for the first time, having spent most his prior years working within his sect¡¯s medicinal gardens.

    Having met, here and there, during other non-related events, and while they happened to be out on their spare time, the two were somewhat friendly.

    Thus having found some time to spare, they stood chatting in the hallway as they saw two young Jotnar pass them by.

    Green skinned like most other people in the continent of Harta, but with one horn instead of the usual two.

    Normally the two wouldn¡¯t have caught the pairs attention, since there¡¯d been countless people passing by in the last few hours or so. However since these two youths happened to stop nearby, it naturally drew the eye.

    ¡°Okay, here we are...Now all you¡¯ve got to do is make a good showing, alright?¡± said the older of the two.

    The younger jotun just nodded, seeming sincere enough, but still not really seeming to take the issue seriously.

    ¡°Come on man, remember that you¡¯re doing this for the family. For Mom and Dad and Egon and me, hell remember when you¡¯re out there that if you win you¡¯ll be winning for you too. So go out there and show them what you can do.¡±

    ¡°Sure¡­¡± said the younger one. His answer slightly milquetoast.

    The older jotun, slapped his brother on the arm and strode off. Stopping midway to give his brother a double thumbs up.

    ¡°Win little brother...I know you can do it!¡±

    Then the two parted ways. With the younger jotun heading down the stairs that lead to the underground arena where the elimination tournament that was always held before the main event was held. While the older jotun, walked down to the end of the hall hooking a right and heading towards the seat of the aboveground arena.¡±

    Cornell looked at both ends of the hallway with an amused look on his face.

    ¡°Can you believe that shit?! So dramatic...¡±

    His friend rolled his eyes, snorting at his friend¡¯s loft manner.

    ¡°Yeah, I hear you, man. I imagine that you weren¡¯t the least bit melodramatic when it came to your turn to try out for your sect.¡±

    Cornell shrugged. His beard and skin color hiding the blush that rose to his cheeks.

    ¡°Well, not really...my granddad was an advisor for one of the sect¡¯s inner-circle.¡±

    Leon sighed, shaking his head at his friend¡¯s blithe response.

    ¡°Wanna make a bet?¡± said Cornell. Rocking on his heels for a bit, his arms hidden within his robes, letting those voluminous sleeves of his, hang free.

    ¡°What?¡±

    ¡°I bet you fifty essence crystals that we don¡¯t hide or hair of that sleepy-eyed doofus, when it comes time for the real show to start.¡± said Cornell. A bit of wickedness entering his gaze.

    Leon closed one eye as he regarded the other man.

    ¡°Low level essence crystals, or medium?¡± said Leon.

    ¡°Pft...are we in fucking kindergarten here? Do I look like some tiny sect junior. Medium of course.¡± said Cornell.

    The old cultivator turned thoughtful before giving his response.

    ¡°Okay. It¡¯s a bet.¡± said Leon.

    ¡°Okay? You really have money to waste man?! If so, I¡¯m going to have to demand you pay the next time we go out drinking together.¡± said Cornell. Slightly taken aback that his flippantly offered had been accepted.

    ¡°First off, fuck you¡­. Second, I¡¯ve got a feeling about that kid¡­Who knows, maybe you¡¯ll end up having to pay this,... your poor broke brother-in-arms,... a little something-something, after all.¡± said Leon.

 20: Dark Horse or Stalking Horse

    Wallace sat on the edge of his seat, shoulders bent forwards. Gnawing on a thumb nail. He¡¯d never been this nervous before.

    Not even that one time back in Rus, when things got a little hot and heavy with the one of Forrester girls, and she had her period come in late.

    Or that one time, when he and Egon were messing around a nearby cliff face and he¡¯d happen to have the bright idea to play peek-a-boo mid-climb. The result being a horrifying, forty-five seconds where he¡¯d thought that he¡¯d sent his big brother plummeting to his death.

    He was so nervous that the pre-tournament show that played complete with essence-based visual arrays and one of the greatest musical troupes in the region went by without his noticing. Same for the first, two-thirds of the actual tournament.

    He sat unmoved as the crowd around him went wild, and fighter after fighter climbed up onto the stage to show the full measure of their skills against one another.

    Failing to even notice when one crimson-skinned girl managed to kick her opponent hard enough that he exploded. Bursting into flames as he flew off the stage. Her victory requiring the appearance of the local fire brigade, a medic and the referee before it was decided that she could continue in the tournament.

    At most Wallace had registered that everything was starting, but aside from that he¡¯d stayed as he was. His eyes focused on the what-ifs that appeared in his head. Dazzled and frightened by all the possibilities.

    He was finally jarred from all his musing after being nudged, by a soft but firm elbow in his ribs. He looked up frowning, rubbing the spot as if the elbowing had actually hurt, and saw a bright eyed Patricia looking over at him.

    ¡°...What?!¡± said Wallace.

    ¡°You¡¯re missing it.¡± said Patricia.

    ¡°Missing what?¡± said Wallace. Slightly confused after getting lost in his own head.

    Van spoke up, an, slightly befuddled look on her face. Like she were staring at some rare impossible animal that she herself had grown up believing she¡¯d made up.

    ¡°It¡¯s already the fifth time that he¡¯s gotten onto the stage and you¡¯re the only one who hasn¡¯t been cheering.¡± said Vanessa. Love this novel? Read it on Royal Road to ensure the author gets credit.

    ¡°Cheering?¡± Wallace blinked. Frowning. Still slightly lost.

    Patricia tugged on his arm and pointed down towards the stage where he saw yet another two figures testing their strength against one another.

    One was as big as a bear, with horns that grew like gnarled tree-branches, his body covered in muscles that looked fit for ripping steel girders in half.

    ...And the other was his brother. Tall and broad, yet still somewhat more gangly than would be expected for a Jotun.

    As he watched the two of them fight, the artistry lacking in their movements, bringing things down to a simple knock-down brawl, Wallace registered what the women at his side had been saying.

    ¡°Wait, fifth fight? As in he¡¯s been up there before? As in he¡¯s made it into the final ten?! How the hell did I miss that?!¡± said Wallace.

    Not blinking, not wanting to miss a single second, Wallace watched as he was told to. Holding his breath as the larger combat tore bits of stage apart, with each swipe of his hands.

    His heart jumped each time he watched his little brother dart in between those massive arms. Watching as his brother stuck close to the man, somehow never entering the range of one his blows.

    Watching as Edwin ignored the violent essence that billowed off the man¡¯s fists as if it were just the buffeting of harsh winds.

    Van answered her brother-in-law¡¯s question, her mood subdued and dreamy. While Wallace had been worrying, she¡¯d been doing her own bit of thinking.

    ¡°That big guy is one of the representatives of the Ironblood-Kings. The match with him, has been the longest fight that Eddy¡¯s had to deal with. It¡¯s almost no wonder that you¡¯ve missed all the others. He pretty much has been going through them in thirty seconds or less...Usually less.¡±

    Wallace didn¡¯t say anything response, he just sat there with a loose smile on his face. Looking like he¡¯d been kicked in the head. Micro-expressions of Disbelief, envy and pride dancing across his visage before resolving back to the smile.

    He knew that he¡¯d told his brother that he should try to win, but he¡¯d not really expected anything to actually come of it. It was just the sort of thing one said.

    He¡¯d figured it¡¯d be a miracle if the youth made it through the pre-tournament elimination tourney in the underground arena. His hope had been for his little brother to be just barely talented enough to catch the eye of one of the sect recruiters watching down below.

    This however, this was something different, this was the kind of performance that could make the young jotun hate his little brother just the littlest bit. A tiny spark of envy being born in his heart, making him wish that his brother had told him of his treatments sooner.

    Making him wish that he could have had his time to shine before he¡¯d grown past the point where any sect would be willing to try and grow his talents.

    This envy was almost instantly blown away by the boundless pride and exultation Wallace felt as he saw his brother, his kin, his blood, standing on the stage, going toe-to-toe against proper sect disciples.

    Men and women who were just a few steps away from being true sons and daughters of heaven.

    Anyone who made it to the above-ground stage was guaranteed a recruitment offer, and the young man¡¯s having fought his way to the top ten, which was usually just reserved as a way for the sects to settle some things between themselves while also showing off their younger generation¡¯s formidability to the public...was all but unprecedented. Wallace couldn¡¯t even really guess what this achievement would mean for the boy¡¯s prospects.

    It was like telling someone to jump, and having them reveal that they¡¯d grown wings and were actually able to fly. The kind of positive shock that one couldn¡¯t know what to do with, until it actually happened.

    Wallace stood up and roared, bellowing at the top of his voice. His cry joining the thousands of others echoing out across the stands.

    ¡°Kick his ass, Eddy! ...You can take this thing! Take the whole fucking tournament, you beautiful bastard! Do the family proud!¡±

 21: Ringer

    The crowd went wild as the thin, one horned, Jotun, locked the limbs of his much large opponent and made the other youth¡¯s face kiss the floor. Impacting the tiles of the stage with enough force to create a small crater.

    Cornell Takao, of the Courts of Steel and Amber, sat alongside his friend Leon, from the Radiant Orrichalcum Gardens. Not quite believing what he was seeing.

    The two of them sat next to Berthold Rishe, a mutual acquaintance of theirs from the iron blood kings, who swore loudly as she watched her sect junior quite literally get made to eat a loss. Leaving behind several teeth when the medics came to carry him off of the stage.

    Speaking of eating a loss, Leon couldn¡¯t help narrowing his eyes and giving his friend a smug look as he saw the referee announced the unknown fighter¡¯s victory. Aware that they were both familiar with the young jotun who¡¯d somehow climbed his way all the way up into the top ten ranks of the whole tournament.

    ¡°Corny old boy, I do believe you owe me fifty medium grade essence crystals...I don¡¯t mind taking it as five high grade crystals or five hundred low grade crystals, but I do ask that you pay promptly, please.¡±

    Cornell snorted rolling his eyes.

    ¡°Hmph...okay, you old bat...How about I just take it out of the five thousand you owe me from the last time we went drinking together.¡±

    Leon swore, sputtering. His already ruddy face growing even redder.

    ¡°Oi! Oi! Let¡¯s not mix past and present debts...or rather, what five thousand crystals?... I don¡¯t owe you shit!¡±

    ¡°Ah, how about me, that kindly wife of yours, and a certain Madame Delilah at the Soaring Palace Bordello and Wine house, talk it over, nice and slow to see through to the black and white of the matter.¡±

    Leon snorted, ignoring the blatant blackmail.

    ¡°Un...I see, I see. Very good. Who would expect the famous Cornell Takao would renege on a bet? Well, I tell you this, the boys in that favorite gambling house of yours will definitely hear of this. I hear a few of your sects inner and core court members are numbered amongst them.¡±

    Cornell¡¯s complexion wavered between blue and white, impressive for a man who was normally pink. He weighed the loss of funds against the loss of face, and decided that face was more important. Tossing his friend, a spatial-card with exactly five hundred low grade crystals stored inside.

    ¡°Tch¡­¡± scowled one of the two old cultivators.

    ¡°Kehehe¡­¡± smiled the other.

    ¡°Well, now...he¡¯s up again. Little Bastard better not lose after making my boy lose face like that.¡± growled the third old cultivator. The aged swordswoman, who sat fuming alongside the other two.

    Cornell and Leon startled, realizing that the boy was up again, having stepped off the stage and been called back after a few matches had taken place in-between.

    They¡¯d missed the last two fights, which for a quarterly tournament like this, wasn¡¯t really that great an issue, for aloof, senior personages, such as themselves. Especially, since it was only the last three fights that counted as ought, for the sects they represented.

    What made today¡¯s tournament different, was the fact that unbelievable as it was, there was an outsider in their midsts. An inscrutable youth who stood facing one of the darlings of the Courts of Steel and Amber, for the title of tournament champion.

    Even with seats as good as theirs, it was hard to know what kind of face the strange youth was making. It was hard to know what the young man was feeling.

    What could be known, was that once the match was over, regardless of who was entered into the rankings as the second place winner and who came in first, there would be fervor as all three of their sects fought to draw the boy in. Crowding out any of the smaller sects and groups that might have been interested in recruit the young jotun. Unauthorized reproduction: this story has been taken without approval. Report sightings.

    *****

    ¡°A Human?...No. You¡¯re a monstrum right? One of the ascended monster races.¡± said Edwin. Half mumbling to himself as he faced his opponent. A young woman with honey-colored skin, triangular ears atop her head and a thick scale covered tail.

    Her more, ¡°natural¡±, human-like skin tone, making Edwin mistake her for a member of his former race before he recalled the descriptions given by both his sister and parents concerning the non-jotun portion of Embla¡¯s population.

    ¡°What the hell are you talking about all by yourself, on the other end of the ring? If you¡¯re gonna fight come on then!¡± said the sect disciple. Her Elite Stage cultivation allowing her to pick up the young man¡¯s whispered words.

    Edwin blinked realizing that this final match, the final match of the tournament had finally started.

    Rushing forwards to meet his opponent as she raced forwards to meet him.

    They traded blows, their fists flying so fast that each punch sounded like a muffled gunshot, regardless of whether it landed.

    She, the female disciple ended up with the upper hand, breaking Edwin¡¯s momentum and kicking him away, nearly kicking him out of the ring.

    Edwin recovered, grounding himself, by stabilizing himself and anchoring his body down with his kinetic field. His feet tearing up the tile floor of the fighting ring.

    His hands and forearms stung from the kick that he¡¯d just blocked, yet his look was mostly thoughtful instead of pained.

    These last few dozen fights, whether it was aboveground or underground had been fairly challenging compared to those he¡¯d fought back in Rus. Still, compared to combatting celestial presences and immortals it was nothing.

    Even if his current body was nothing compared to what he¡¯d once had as the hivemind at the helm of countless transcendental-constructions, the experience was still there. Rendering any pressure that a normal youth might have felt from the fight, moot.

    Though his opponent chased him, trying to finish him off and kick him down the stage, Edwin was absolutely sure, he could handle her. Ignoring the kicks that were powered by gathered wind essence. And the punches that were filled with a sharpened aura.

    Rather than fighting with any of his opponents, Edwin had been fighting himself. At around the fifth match, where he¡¯d stood above ground, with a roaring crowd both praising him and cursing him, he¡¯d found himself meditating on his own actions. Questioning himself.

    According to his brother winning the tournament would bring good things to both him, his wife and the family in general. They would have backing and resources and status. Which seemed a good enough reason for Edwin to do as he was told.

    Except it wasn¡¯t a good enough. All this had happened too fast. Getting married. Becoming at least partially responsible for the fate of his family and his wife. Suddenly being pressed into becoming a pillar from his family. It was all too fast.

    It wasn¡¯t so much that the boy didn¡¯t want to do and be these things, a husband, a son, a paragon and family guardian. It was more that he¡¯d not even really been able to give proper time to the consideration of whether he wanted to do these things.

    His brother had only told him of his plans a few days before the tournament happened, so he¡¯d barely had the time to set up the necessary drones for reconnaissance and research.

    Which meant he¡¯d not had the data to make the kind informed decisions he liked to make. Where he knew all he needed to know and could see the issue from all its angles and sides.

    On the one hand, he¡¯d sort of wanted to spend some portion of his young adulthood living free and unfettered. Wandering through Embla and learning what it had to offer.

    On the other hand, Edwin loved his family, and he was pretty sure that he could properly come to love his former-sister, as a wife, if given time. Or rather he already loved her, he mostly just needed to get over the slightly incestuous vibe it was giving him.

    His earthman sensibilities getting in the way of letting him feel anything beyond a chaste fraternal affection for the woman.

    Though, speaking honestly, her fusing with his nanites made him feel closer to her already, making him feel an odd tingle of attraction.

    The subsequent treatments that he¡¯d given to the family based on the experience made him feel like for the first time, he wasn¡¯t quite as much of the odd man out, as he¡¯d been before.

    He had kin, and he had people and he did in fact want the best for them.

    Considering the sentiments on both ends of the argument and considering the concerns born therein, Edwin looked at his options.

    Finding that even if he ended up doing as his brother asked, he wanted to know that he was doing it, because chose to do and wanted to do it, rather than just because he¡¯d been told to. Finding that being a simple automata that followed orders, was now anathema to him, at least where matters of self-determination were concerned.

    Even if one was fine trusting some matters with others. Even if one didn¡¯t mind letting others decide what clothes one wore, and what food one ate and what person one married. If a person, was a person and not a puppet, at least a few decisions would have to be consciously made.

    ¡°Hup...Okay.¡± said Edwin. Having made up his mind. A light entering his eyes, as he pivoted and swept his legs under his opponent, tricking her into leaping over them, so he could throw her clear of the stage with a single palm strike to the abdomen.

    There was silence and then madness, sounds within the stadium reaching a new deafening high. This time when the audience lost their minds a few of them lost them for good. Unable to believe that a sectless nobody had won the tournament.

    The referee came and lifted the young jotun¡¯s arm up into the air while the young man himself, stood mostly unmoved, but resolved in his decision on the new direction his life would be taking.

    ¡°Ladies and Gentlemen! We give you this year¡¯s Spring Tournament Champion! Edwin viiissss-Oddmund!¡± roared the referee. His magically amplified voice, echoing throughout the stadium.

 22: Jade and Diamond

    Eyes wide open, her face frozen in an expression that mirrored the disbelief shared amongst the tens of thousands people sitting in the stands, as they watched the darling disciple from the Courts of Steel and Amber, go flying from the stage.

    Her flight was short ending when she hit the wall that separated the stage, from the stand. The air shimmering as the wards contained the force from her body¡¯s impact.

    Once it was all over, the referee announced the results. Announcing the end of the tournament as he held the winner¡¯s arm high in the air.

    ¡°Ladies and Gentlemen! We give you this year¡¯s Spring Tournament Champion! Edwin viiissss-Oddmund!¡±

    The young man seeming to be only mildly moved, when the referee pronounced him tournament champion. Showing the same level of happiness, as that one would show after being given a piece of hard candy.

    *****

    After the tournament was over it was time for the post-tournament festivities. With food, drink and other diversions being provided by the local businesses, of both the legitimate and illegitimate worlds.

    Much revelry would be made. Those who made winning bets on the tournament''s conclusion would be out and about spending their coin. Those who¡¯d made losing bets would be looking for places to drown their regrets. Either way capitalism would be the true winner on this night.

    High spirited, filled with the excitement of watching true warriors test their mettle, this night would one where very few would sleep, and even fewer would sleep alone.

    It was no coincidence that cities like Vignale, where sects came and held recruitment events like today¡¯s, often had a large portion of the population sharing the same birth month.

    The ten month gestation period of your average jotun was often fairly exact. With early and late births being a rarity.

    *****

    While the common folk made merry, the seniors of the Einrode duchy¡¯s martial world did what they¡¯d come to do.

    Settling down to the serious business of selecting candidates for recruitment.

    For the most part it was a fairly standardized affair. Something they¡¯d done enough that they could trust most of the burden to their juniors.

    There would be a list of names, belonging to a group of people who¡¯d been told to hang around.

    A group that was essentially made up of anyone who¡¯d done suitably well in the pre-tournament elimination tourney in the underground arena, and anyone who¡¯d managed to make it to the true tournament in the arena above.

    The representatives of the minor sects would have go and explain who they were and what their sect¡¯s main business and trade was. Providing what was in essence a small five minute presentation to the crowd.

    As for the main sects, The Ironblood-Kings, the Courts of Steel and Amber, and the Orrichalcum Gardens, they didn¡¯t need to explain themselves.

    They were the sects who held the controlling influence over the entirety of the Palmas Kingdom and its four nearest neighbors.

    The only ones who didn¡¯t know of them were newborn babes, those from distant lands, and those who¡¯d spent the lives, with their heads in the sand.

    This wasn¡¯t to say the three sects of the alliance were content to rest on their laurels, though. It just meant that their approach to recruitment was different from the sales pitch that the lesser sects had to give.

    Where the lesser sects would try to appeal to any that would listen, the great sects could afford to be more choosey. Sending their juniors to give cards and invitations to those that the senior representatives deemed worthy.

    Those with invitations would be allowed into a private party that the three sects held after every tournament. There would be singers and dancers, and the finest of all the food and drink that would available in the city for the evening.

    Instead of presentations, there¡¯d be films. Short films, from each of the sects, which would briefly touch on the sects mightiest feats and what they did in general.

    The sect disciples who were in the tournament would also be there, chatting with those who¡¯d impressed them and those that their seniors had pointed out to them.

    As part of the party¡¯s goings on, there would a Reader-Stone, present and available for any who wanted to properly have their essence assessed and hadn¡¯t had a chance to do so before, either because they lacked the money to buy a private Reader, or didn¡¯t belong to a group that had a Reader in-house.

    The Reader-Stone would assess an individual''s approximate cultivation, their potential, and their elemental alignment. All these factors being things that would be of interest to the Sect Reps that were present at the party.

    It was worth noting that having poor talent or a weak affinity for one¡¯s elemental alignment could cool a sects ardour when it came to recruiting someone. Thus making use of the Reader-Stone, a bit of a double-edged sword.

    Again, though, all this was really just part of a large routine. Just part of the life cycle of the organism that was your average Great Sect.

    Sects had existed for millions of years. The three sects that currently held sway over the Five Kingdoms of the Palmas Kingdom, had been around for thousands of years.

    Thus for the seniors of the group, the proceeding would be seem almost boring. Things would only get interesting when something novel happened.

    Such as the appearance of a candidate that performed well enough to pull the interest of more than one of their number.

    If you discover this narrative on Amazon, be aware that it has been stolen. Please report the violation.

    With an even rarer occurrence being a candidate who performed so well that all three sects sought to recruit them, and none of them were willing to back down on the matter.

    *****

    ¡°You put him down Berthold...I was talking to him first!¡± Howled one of the seniors the Courts of Steel and Amber.

    ¡°Hmm? Put what down? I¡¯m sorry...I¡¯m not quite sure what you¡¯re-...¡±

    ¡°The boy! I¡¯m obviously talking about the boy! Don¡¯t go pretending to be senile now, you bi-...witch!¡±

    ¡°Huh? B-, Witch? I¡¯m not quite sure what a bee witch is but those sound like fighting words. You want to go, sonny?! Step aside for Grandma! I might have just turned ninety but I¡¯ve still got it in me to give you a spanking, old thing!¡± said the Berthold, of the Ironblood-Kings. Who, thanks to her robust cultivation, didn¡¯t look a day over forty.

    Never once considering dropping the green-skinned lad that she currently had tucked under her arm, like a suitcase.

    Treating her blatant kidnapping attempt, like a blatant robbery attempt, and showing no intention of backing down. Like a proper rogue would.

    More seniors from the Orricalchum Gardens and Steel and Amber Courts came. Which resulted in the Seniors of the Ironblood-Kings¡¯ Sect gathering as well.

    Noting that they were outnumbered by the other sects, by a five to one ratio, but still showing no signs of backing down.

    Just as things were about to heat up further, and the auras of the old warriors began to climb, the whole world shook.

    Those who were standing outside the tent where the party was taking place all gasped, eyes unblinking, mouth hanging ajar.

    The fact that there were some seniors out there, acting like dazzled juniors was enough to get the rest of the old representatives to step beyond the tempt and take a look.

    They were treated to the dazzling sight, as an entire section of the sky seemed to have been replaced by a strip of blazing energy.

    The energy electric and alive like a colossal lightning bolt. An explosive river of rampaging blue-white essence. The aura of the event, fierce like a thousand rampaging dragon-kings.

    *****

    The one who¡¯d set things off with the Senior Sect Representatives had been a certain young man from Rus.

    As if it weren¡¯t enough for him to have climbed to the top of the rankings, making through both the underground and aboveground tournaments and then winning the final match, he¡¯d had to go and show off during the after-party as well.

    As had been the case for most instances where he gave hint to his less than normal nature, it had been a simple moment of shortsightedness.

    He¡¯d used the Reader-Stone. Wanting to take the opportunity to scan the advice, so that he could compare the data from the scan, to the data he¡¯d collected on similar devices that he¡¯d seen during his last life.

    Naturally that meant letting the Reader-Stone scan him, while he was doing his thing. A mistake.

    The result being the revelation that Edwin, wasn¡¯t just a normal earth aligned warrior, with a decent amount of potential, an elite stage cultivation and a decent amount of elemental affinity.

    Instead he was revealed to have a one in a million, high potential, top grade affinity for all the elements.

    A consequence of the nanites in his system which could utilize nearly all forms of energy, disregarding the type.

    Not that the Sect Reps knew that, all they knew was that they were standing the presence of a heaven shaking talent. A young one at that. Only eighteen years old. In other words a treasure worth fighting, if not killing for.

    A boy blessed with a heaven defying physique, akin to that of their venerable and anarchical ancestors.

    A person, well worth, going to the effort of kidnapping and drawing in by all means. Even if it meant their sects having to make some concessions to their partners in the alliance, afterwards.

    ****

    Aware that it was his own carelessness that had gotten him into this mess, Edwin did some very fast thinking to get himself out of the troubling situation in which he found himself.

    Plying the depths of his memories, and a bit of his older brother¡¯s slyness, he found himself drawing from his time on earth when he used to read bits of fantasy fiction in his freetime. Especially of the wuxia, far east fantasy, genre.

    He remotely called for the ship that floated thousands of miles overhead, idling above the city and had it fire its m-busters. The current strongest amongst its beam cannons, capable of wiping out all life on a third of the continent, or drilling a hole halfway through the Embla¡¯s smallest moon.

    The light from the beams lighting up the heavens and dazzling any who happened to look up on that particular half of the hemisphere.

    As big a show of force as the boy had on hand at the moment, since he¡¯d not really thought he¡¯d need much more than that when he¡¯d built the ship...Something that he¡¯d been intending to rectify but had failed to get around to. Since as previously mentioned, it hadn¡¯t seemed a priority.

    Having started, what was to the people of Embla, a once in lifetime spectacle, he was finally given a window in which to speak up for himself.

    ¡°Um...Excuse me. Would you mind, putting me down, please? There¡¯s something I have to do.¡±

    Awestruck, the female cultivator actually put the boy down. Letting him stand on his own two feet, while she stared up at the river of blinding blue-white plasma that ate away at the firmament above. Making night into day.

    Edwin raised his hands, holding them above his head and created a discharge of essence between his palms. Generating his own small light, one bright enough to pull the attention of the seniors.

    He made the light in his hands pulse and then made the ship fire its own light in pulses. Alternating the pulses in his hand and the blasts from the ship and making them match. Using old earth morse code to carry a conversation with himself.

    ¡°What are you doing, boy? What is that?¡± said one of the Sect Representatives. Leon Skinner of the Orrichalum Gardens.

    ¡°I¡¯m talking to My Master, Sir.¡± said Edwin.

    There was an inaudible gasp from the group as they absorbed what the young man had said.

    Finding themselves sobered by the idea that this event was something that a ¡°person¡± was responsible for, and struggling to adjust to the knowledge that this mysterious figure was the master of the boy that they had just been seconds away from coming to blows over.

    ¡°You say, that all this is your Master¡¯s doing?¡± said old Cornell. Who also happened to be nearby.

    ¡°Yes, sir.¡± said Edwin. Still controlling his pulses and blast.

    The group fell silent once more, trying to imagine what manner of being could be behind such unspeakable power.

    ¡°He taught me a few things before I came to this city. Now he¡¯s congratulating me on winning the tournament.¡± said Edwin.

    ¡°You mean, your master was watching you?¡± said one of the Sect Reps.

    ¡°Yes.¡±

    ¡°So he was here today then?...In the city.¡±

    ¡°No senior, he watched from a distance...We wouldn¡¯t be communicating through lights in the sky, if he¡¯d been here in person, sir.¡± said Edwin. Tilting his head, in an innocently questioning look.

    His words creating some awkwardness and unease for the group. The awkwardness born from the sect seniors coming to realize that an even more prestigious senior had witnessed them squabbling like children.

    The unease birthed from the fact that none of them had felt the unseen eyes on their backs.

    The bursts of raw power that surged through the sky, making them feel like they¡¯d somehow missed having someone swing a mountain-sized, axe-blade, above their heads. Their own ¡°short¡± statures being the only reason that they were still alive.

    ¡°What is he saying now?...If you don¡¯t mind me asking.¡± said Cornell. Not minding at all if the youth minded, but still taking care to remain polite now that he knew that this young pup, had an old wolf watching over him.

    ¡°Master was just asking about my condition, and I was just telling him that I¡¯m okay and about to ask which one of you guys¡¯ sects, he thinks I should apply to....¡± said Edwin.

    This revelation reminding them all of the fact that the person they were talking to, was someone they¡¯d all wanted to draw in.

    A miracle child, with a master, whose power could casually sunder the heavens.

    Suddenly, for all that the prospect of being the one to hold the boy¡¯s future in their hands was still very attractive, it had the feeling of taking gold from a dragon¡¯s horde.

    It felt like stealing treasure from a legendary beast while its eyes were still open and watching.

    ¡°With a master like yours you¡¯d still join a sect?¡± questioned one of the seniors.

    The youth nodded.

    ¡°Naturally, sir...After all, my illustrious master can¡¯t be bothered watch over my minuscule self forever, can he?...and He only teaches when he is in the mood to do so¡­Thus further guidance, from a proper institution is a must....¡± said Edwin.

    The youth wore a helpless look on his face, as he answered the old Jotun¡¯s question.

    ¡°Ah...In that case, I wouldn¡¯t mind knowing which of sects you were interested in joining.¡± said Leon. Fighting hard to keep the tone of his voice even.

    Calculating as the other seniors had, that pulling in the boy would still be a good deed, one with a chance of pulling in the mysterious old monster, who¡¯d just made his presence known.

    The rest of the sect seniors seeming to lean in towards the youth, like bees towards a flower and moths towards a flame.

 23: Matriculation

    A third of the continent was lorded over by the Iron-Blood Kings, the Courts of Steel and Amber, and the Radiant Orrichalcum Gardens.

    These three gate sects, were aligned together to form, the Faction known as the South-Harta Alliance.

    Countless minor sects, and lesser factions were consolidated under them, and their rule was spread across five of the major nations of the continent,. and several other smaller nations.

    On one particular year, the Alliance recruited a grand total of seven thousand, five hundred and thirty-two new disciples. Roughly two thousand of which, were recruited into the smaller sects and lesser organizations.

    Four thousand became the disciples of the three Great Sects¡¯ subsidiary sects. With the great sects themselves only accepting a little under one thousand new disciples, with most of them being added into the forces of the outer-circle of the sect.

    The most powerful of the Alliance, the Iron-Blood Kings, with their ideal of creating apex warriors, and mighty powerhouses, would recruit the least amount of disciples. Taking in only one hundred new bodies. Always choosing quality over quantity.

    The most populous and well-known of the alliance, the Courts of Steel and Amber with all their numerous subsidiaries and affiliated organizations, would take in the most new bodies. Accepting over six hundred new disciples.

    Finally, the wealthiest, and most discrete, of the alliance, the Radiant Orrichalcum Gardens, would take in a number, that wasn¡¯t too much, and not too little. Absorbing only as many new bodies, as they had need for. Taking in two hundred new disciples.

    *****

    Numbered amongst the new disciples that the Orrichalcum Gardens took in, would be one newcomer who stood out amongst the rest. Upending decades of tradition by actually winning the recruitment tournament, and shaking the continent, as part of a simple greeting to his master. This tale has been pilfered from Royal Road. If found on Amazon, kindly file a report.

    His master, who was now understood to be one of the enigmatic, and inscrutable, crouching tigers and hidden dragons of Embla. One amongst the myriad number of great unspeakably powerful great cultivators who lay scattered throughout the land.

    Taking the youth himself, and the legendary personage of his esteemed master into account, the youth would once more buck the common sense of the period. Becoming one of the rare recruits, who were directly pulled into the Inner-Circle of one of the Great Sects.

    *****

    Vanessa sat in a porch that overlooked a vast and many flowered field. She was attended by two servants, one a green skinned, white horned Jotuness. The other, a monstrum, one of the human form demonbeasts. A cat-woman, with pale pink skin, yellow hair, and furry triangular ears on top of her head.

    ¡°Ah...it¡¯s a nice day, today as well..¡± she said. Staring out towards the field and admiring the way evening sun, cast its orange-red light over the many-colored field.

    ¡°Yes, Madame.¡± said the two servants.

    Van nodded and then she massaged bridge of her nose, quietly wondering what on Embla was going on with her life. Still struggling to deal with, the small amount of whiplash left over from her circumstances shifting too quickly.

    First she was hunted, then she was not, then her birth-father¡¯s side of her bloodline started acting up, now she was a ¡°Lady¡±, head wife of a great estate.

    It was like she was sitting taking in a play, struggling to catch up, because the script kept jumping around to different acts in the story, and the director was a shoddy one.

    On the one hand, she couldn¡¯t complain, since at the very least, it seemed this story was going in her favor. On the other hand, she wished, whoever was in charge, would have given her a playbill, or some notes on what her part in all this was.

    She was finding herself feeling a tad lost.

    Van looked down at her hand, frowning at the ring, her husband gave her, when he told her what he¡¯d done.

    The simply circle of white-gold and crystal, seeming almost suspiciously innocuous to the young woman, who knew what it truly was, besides being a symbol of her husband¡¯s affection.

    She smiled, as she thought of it, knowing that at the very least, no matter what else might have changed, the man she was married to was still the same worrisome, but kind hearted young doofus, he¡¯d always been.

    Content to pursue his various hobbies, and fulfil his duties as a son, brother, husband and sect-member, but leaving all else to her discretion because he just couldn¡¯t be bothered.

 24: Ripples and Waves

    ¡°Yeah, baby...Smack dat ass! Kehehehe!¡±

    Over in Nivina, the Capital of Otmar, the County¡¯s mad ruler, sat in his manor, rewarding himself with a big bucket of melon sherbert.

    One of his more favored sons, a young man by the name of Jiro, sat at the table with him. With a smaller bucket of Sherbet in front of him.

    Today¡¯s after lunch snack, included a show, one that was making the younger man feel more than a little uncomfortable.

    A comely young jotuness sat in his father¡¯s lap, wearing a silk robe that old Count Hunfred had lent her.

    Dressed in the skimpy belly dancer¡¯s outfit that the woman came in wearing, was a portly, paunch-bellied, middle-aged man. His whiskers twitching, as he moved atop the table, clumsily swaying in place.

    ¡°Let me see those cheeks clap, dammit!¡± bellowed Hunfred. Laughing wildly as shouted over top the head of real dancer, who sat in his lap.

    ¡°Look at that. Terrible... Simply terrible, isn¡¯t he Nina? Isn¡¯t he a disgrace?¡± said Hunfred. Speaking to the mostly naked woman in his lap.

    ¡°Yes, my lord.¡± she said. Her voice breathy and hushed.

    ¡°Come on boy, get into it. It¡¯ll be too late to learn when I¡¯m gone, you know..:¡± said Hunfred Calling to his son, who seemed to be looking everywhere but at the man on the table.

    This travesty taking place in the good Count¡¯s dining room was something called the after-dinner dance.

    Hunfred and his lady, Nina, had witnessed many such dances together, and for Lee this would be the fifth. The After-Dinner Dances were yet another of the Mad Count¡¯s open secrets. Part of his rumored eccentricity and yet another reason for those who worked under him to feel fear.

    A good leader would respect his men, and never humiliate them, or step on their bottom-lines. This was common sense. Leadership One-Oh-One.

    What was also common sense was the idea of reciprocity. The men were supposed to respect either the leader or the cause that they were working for, or else there was no point to keeping them.

    It was one thing for folk to do a little mischief, or get into the habit of throwing their weight around. This was Otmar after all, and many of the folk who lived here had been cast down from much nicer settings.

    Meaning that a lot of the officials and aids that the kingdom sent to help him run things were really just spoiled goods. Sent over to Hunfred¡¯s County, because they were too deeply entrenched for a summary execution or forced resignation.

    A little skimming off the top of the County funds, here, a little debauchery and bullying of the local populace, there...These were things that Hunfred understood sort of had to be tolerated in these parts. In governance as in all life, one had to pick and choose ones battles.

    Openly kidnapping women off the street however, openly stealing from the county larder, doing things that could possibly lead to a revolt, or bring true instability to this barely stable region...that was where a good Count had to draw the line.

    Which was where the ¡°After-Dinner Dance¡± came into play. It was both a punishment and warning, it was Hunfred¡¯s way of knocking an official that was getting too out of line down a few...dozen pegs. By showing them no matter how debauched and balling they thought they were, he was still the mad count and he really would have them hacked into pieces and fed to dogs.

    It was also a reminder for the official¡¯s backers and families as well, as well as the backers behind those backers.

    Hunfred McBriar was Count of Otmar, because the royal family and his own extended family, the ones who¡¯d stayed in the capital, didn¡¯t dare act against him. If they could kill him, they¡¯d have done so ages ago. Unauthorized usage: this narrative is on Amazon without the author''s consent. Report any sightings.

    ¡°You know boyo, that fat bastard up there, was abusing the debt slave system, we stopped the operation mid-way through, even managed to undo some of the damage and get some folk back to their families, but the point is he was selling our people...If I wasn¡¯t concerned about show his old man back in the kingdom some face, he¡¯d already been puppy poop yesterday¡­¡± said Hunfred. Elbowing his son.

    Lee sighed...Looking up at the fat man, who danced with beads of sweat rolling up his brow. Then he hardened his face.

    ¡°Let me see some jiggle fat-ass!¡± said Lee.

    ¡°That¡¯s my boy.¡± said Hunfred. Clapping his son on the shoulder.

    After seeing that his son had things in control Hunfred and his lady friend alighted to another portion of the manor to do unspeakable things with wood and bone carved accoutrements.

    It was a few hours after that Hunfred would find himself in his office, going over paperwork that his attendant Eustice came in with yet more reports for the old man to look over.

    Hunfred skimmed through the top one and then burst out laughing.

    ¡°By the red and blue gods! Bloody sweet that¡¯s what that is...I bet that put my more thick headed children out of sorts..¡± said Hunfred. Wearing a wide smile.

    His youngest daughter Vanessa, had been in a bit of hot water until recently. Which he would freely admit was partially his fault. His decision to give her what she was owed, came with the caveat that there were always those who¡¯d try to take ought, if they thought they could get away with it.

    Hunfred had known it would happen, but he¡¯d always sort of believed in his clan¡¯s policy of letting their juniors sink or swim on their own. And besides that, he¡¯d been curious, curious to see what the daughter he¡¯d not been able to raise was capable of.

    It seemed, that just as he was thinking of stepping in, whether purposefully, or by accident she¡¯d manage to fish herself out. Even if it was just luck, luck in itself was also a strength.

    Somehow she¡¯d managed to either find or arrange, a shield for herself. A shield in the form of a marriage to an Inner-Sect Disciple of the Radiant Orrichalcum Gardens. One of the four great sects, that ruled over their kingdom and its four nearest neighbors.

    It was an outstanding coup. Carrying her to status that was technically higher than Hunfred¡¯s, almost overnight.

    Now even if Hunfred himself wanted to find trouble with her, he¡¯d be hard pressed to do so. Never mind speaking of, his covetous yet cowardly children and their allies in Otmar.

    ¡°Oh ho, ho-ho, ho-ho,...Interesting, interesting¡­¡± said Hunfred. Chuckling to himself as he read through the report.

    Speaking of the Oddmund clan, Hunfred couldn¡¯t help wondering how long this was all in the works. A Move like this was something that took decades of planning.

    According to report in front of him, it even seemed that, that good ol¡¯ boy Jarek, had applied for a position in the county forces. Having miraculously recovered from the crippling injury that made him fall from his position in the royal army.

    A Preposterous claim, since an injury that bad, wasn¡¯t something could be easily recovered from.

    There were even some speculation that the man was stronger than he¡¯d been before.

    With some saying that he¡¯d shown an aura within the Heroic stage, the sixth stage of essence cultivation. While it was all but confirmed that his wife Olivia was a warrior on the Chosen Stage, the fifth stage of essence cultivation.

    Strong enough to face an average horde of demonbeasts, all by herself, pre-supposing that there wasn¡¯t a beast-king with an equivalent cultivation or higher, leading their ranks.

    Jarek¡¯s sons Egon and Wallace were showing some surprising progress as well, and there was no forgetting little Edwin who¡¯d been strong enough for one of the three great sects to directly draw him into their inner-circle.

    All together this would this would place as one of the top strengths of the secular portion of their kingdom. And make his little family into a faction all on themselves, albeit a small one.

    Hunfred found himself smiling wider and wider, he¡¯d always been the sort to like watching a good show. He smiled so hard, that he nearly cracked a tooth. It was a perverse pleasure.

    When the old man was younger, Hunfred¡¯s father had, had to tan his blue behind plenty of times for starting fights amongst his siblings, and causing small fires on the family estate. Never mind speaking of all the times that he¡¯d been caught peeping on the maids.

    Hunfred McBriar was a man who¡¯d watch anything so long as it was interesting enough. In fact the whole reason he¡¯d ended up getting his war hero status was because the battlefield was something of a favorite channel for him. For him each conflict was a smorgasbord of human drama set in a single setting.

    There were former-soldiers out there, grunts, farmers and field hands, who¡¯d been able to retire with inflated pensions. Never knowing that some of those bonuses they¡¯d gotten were the old man¡¯s version of accolades.

    Hunfred clucked his tongue wondering if the venerable and sly Carlo Oddmund, was in on it, whatever ¡°it¡± was. If not, he imagined the old man, was probably kicking himself.

    Hunfred wasn¡¯t sure which prospect would tickle him more.

    On the one hand, he¡¯d love for this to be the signs of some great Oddmund conspiracy, the old man was someone who positively loved a good conspiracy. That was part of why he was out here, in this Emerald Steppes.

    On the other hand if this wasn¡¯t a conspiracy and was something else, happening all on its own, he could just imagine the look on the Old Oddmund clan head¡¯s face as he realized that he¡¯d bet on the wrong side and missed the boat.

    Choosing to side with Hunfred¡¯s idiot children for short term benefits, and scaring away a golden goose. Truly lifting a rock only to drop it on his own foot.

    Regardless of whichever case had come to pass, one thing was clear, the vis-Oddmund family was coming up in the world.

    Rising high enough, that eventually, the Oedheim clan, that had disappeared from the continent after being oppressed by multiple powers, was liable to rise with them.

    Hunfred could think of more than a few personages that were likely having headaches thinking about what that might mean.

    After reading and re-reading the reports, the old man tucked away the ones that tickled him the most, puttig them in a folder on his desk, before turning his attention to the rest of his work.

    He madea mental note to keep a closer eye on the situation. There was a good chance that Harta might start getting interesting again.

 25: Sect Member

    The day before he finally left to go and join the sect, Edwin and Van went home to go and visit their parents.

    It was still a risk, since the news of their new statuses hadn¡¯t yet spread, but taking into account that it had been quite a while since they¡¯d seen them, and the news that they had to share, was quite momentous, they decided it¡¯d be okay, to spend just a few hours back home.

    A warm, slightly tearful re-reunion, even though their separation was only on the order of a month or so. Perhaps two months.

    Jarek was ecstatic, Olivia was stunned, Egon was stoically proud. The vis-Oddmund family received the news that one of their own would be joining the inner-circle of a Sect, quite positively. Taking it in stride, because they were already aware that their son was a remarkable man. The changes in their bodies standing as a testament to that fact.

    The visit only lasted a single day, for the next day, was when the sects would be taking all its new recruits back to their bases towards to the center of the alliance¡¯s territory. Even if the couple could travel the distance quite easily, there would be duties and training for Edwin, and Vanessa would have to figure out how to settle in amongst the cultivators, it wouldn¡¯t do for them to be missing.

    Before they went back, Jarek and Olivia took the couple aside, to ask them to do them, one single favor. Asking them to change their names. Though Jarek believed that the danger should be slight, he insisted that they should be careful. Yet even knowing that there was a danger, he still asked it of them anyway.

    Thus, the Radiant Orrichalcum Courts would end up inducting one Edwin Oedheim, instead of a vis-Oddmund. With Edwin being allowed to bring in Vanessa Oedheim as part of his retinue.

    Neither Edwin, nor Van knew what their parents¡¯ goal in doing this was, they¡¯d simply accepted because it was their parents who¡¯d asked.

    ******

    ¡°Ngh!¡±

    Within a ring within the inner complex of the Radiant Orrichalcum Gardens were two youths. One was standing, while the other lay curled like shrimp on the ground, foaming from the mouth. If you find this story on Amazon, be aware that it has been stolen. Please report the infringement.

    ¡°Ah, I guess that¡¯s that...Any other takers?¡± said the youth that was standing. The victor of the match.

    He looked towards the audience that watched them, made up of young Jotnar and Monstrum, most of them between the ages of fourteen and forty.

    None spoke, or stepped forwards. Merely fidgeting in silence as they sat in the stands. Looking down at the broken youth, who lay unconscious on the stage.

    ¡°Hmm...I¡¯m guess I¡¯m done for the day...Alrighty then...In that case. Bye, I suppose. Till next time.¡± said the youth. Putting his hands together and bowing twice to both the audience and the seniors whose job it was to make sure such matches didn¡¯t go too far. He then hopped off the stage and walking away from the arena.

    It had been roughly four months since Edwin had joined the Radiant Orrichalcum Gardens, becoming a member of the inner-circle.

    And thus far, he¡¯d have to say he quite liked it.

    Sect life wasn¡¯t particularly difficult for him. It was mostly a mixture of meditation, cultivation, and fulfilling his sect duties.

    Basically breaking down to a balance between continuously growing stronger to become a bigger fighting force for the sect, and doing his actual sect assigned tasks.

    Two things that were pretty easy for someone like Edwin to cope with.

    His power just naturally increasing on its own, even if he didn¡¯t actively cultivate. The majority of his duties as an Inner-Sect Gardener falling right in line with what he used to do, when he¡¯d been set to the task of taking care of the Nemesis race¡¯s resource worlds. The empire¡¯s planet sized bread baskets.

    Of course it wasn¡¯t all roses and gumdrops, there were a few down spots that came with the new position.

    One of these down spots, was a strange tendency for his peers in the sect to routinely make aggressive overtures and challenges.

    Edwin wasn¡¯t sure why it started, or whether it had anything to do with the thick jawed fellow, whose rank at the top of the outer-sect placed him right below Edwin.

    All he knew is that it went beyond the typical hazing of newbies, and rank sorting, that one usually witnessed in such fraternalistic, semi-militarized organizations.

    At first Edwin had been quite troubled, spending his days dealing with those who¡¯d try to interfere with his work, and fighting in the arena answering challenges.

    Now after a few months things had quieted down. He had Van to thank for that. According to her, sect-life and cultivator life in general, were largely might makes right.

    To live peacefully, one had to educate those around one, about one¡¯s strength. Doing so with extreme prejudice.

    Edwin took her advice finding it largely similar to the policies held by the intergalactic communities. While civility was valued within one¡¯s own empire or government, competition over raw resources and use of stable hypergravity junctions, meant that one needed to be firm about one¡¯s status in food chain, lest the other civilizations try and take advantage.

    Now, months later, the challenges were thinning out and it had been weeks since someone had tried to meddle with Edwin¡¯s garden.

 26: Ping Pong

    The Radiant Orrichalcum Gardens were so named, because a large portion of what they did was the growth and cultivation of essence rich goods.

    Descending from a legendary cultivator farmer, they traded in rare medicines, tame monsters, and essence rich minerals, such as orrichalcum.

    Outer-sect members worked in mass, working in large fields that grew large amounts of common essence medicine.

    Inner-sect Members worked privately, taking care of private plots within their courtyards, where they¡¯d concentrate on raised rare stock for the sect.

    Core-sect members were given forests, in which they could raise or grow a grand many rare and mysterious sundries, giving most of it to the sect, and getting to keep a certain portion for themselves.

    *****

    Edwin Oedheim lay at the bottom of the Inner-sect¡¯s ranks. Raising essence glass-petalled flowers for the sect.

    Though Glass-Petalled flowers weren¡¯t the rarest of medicinal plants, they were always in high demand due to their purifying effect on essence. A trait that was useful for both those who would use them in alchemical reactions, and those that would injest them directly.

    Edwin was diligent when it came to taking care of the flowers that grew in his garden.

    Taking the time to do a complete analysis of the species, and then doing a little gene splicing, and a few cross breeding experiments, till finally he¡¯d created a variation, that showed the traits that the sect¡¯s leaders were looking for, and would also grow more steadily.

    Beyond the plants that he grew for the sect, he had others that he was raising in grow-rooms on his ship. Glass-Petalled Flowers with other traits that he was playing with, experimenting with their effects on essence as part of renewed interest in what the people of Embla called the alchemical sciences.

    Doing experiments similar to those that the young man happened to be doing right then. Working on creating a flower that could convert one form of essence into another.

    ¡°Mhm...I guess it¡¯s about that time.¡± said Edwin. Giving the ship a mental order to beam him down to the compound below. Unconcerned about being seen, since he had a known about ability to teleport, that was indistinguishable from the effects of ship¡¯s transfer arrays.Find this and other great novels on the author''s preferred platform. Support original creators!

    As the one at the bottom-rung of the inner-sect¡¯s hierarchical ladder Edwin, stood as the barrier between those in the upper-ranks of the outer-sect, and entrance into the inner-sect.

    As to why the Sect hadn¡¯t placed him higher up into the rankings, the bottom of the inner-sect was as far as they could go, without giving away too much of their face.

    They¡¯d correctly assumed that the youth¡¯s esteemed master wouldn¡¯t quibble with them over it. Reasoning that if he were going to be that hands-on he wouldn¡¯t have let the youth join them at all.

    *****

    Just like clockwork, around noon, the youth would stand on stage, in one of the small areas of the sect.

    Standing as the victor, while yet another loser lay at his feet, this one a young fox-eared lady. Another poor soul sent by Malcolm, the young man whose rank in the sect was directly below Edwin¡¯s. Sitting at the top of the outer-sect¡¯s rankings.

    Malcolm Zhen was a square jawed man, who looked heroic, but was actually quite sly. He currently sat amongst those who were in the stands He¡¯d spent the last few month¡¯s quietly his peers in the outer-sects top ten rankings, and either through provocation or trickery, sending them against young man who stood on stage.

    Using his juniors to harass the youth in between the duels. Trying to slowly chip down, Edwin¡¯s strength, and growing increasingly frustrated as he found no sign of the younger man, weakening.

    ¡°Sh-, Shit...Shit...Shit!¡± said Malcolm. Spitting in the disgust as he made for the exit, hiding behind all the other members of the audience.

    Malcolm wasn¡¯t the only one vexed by disciple Edwin¡¯s winning streak, there were quite a few of his seniors who weren¡¯t quite sure what to do with him either.

    At first there was some initial concern over whether the youth would be able to contend with the droves of fellows who¡¯d seek to surmount him, using him as a stepping stone.

    More than a few amongst the sect elders believing that such a situation would be just as well, as it would curtail any pride or haughtiness on the part of the youth, and lead to him falling into one of their factions, after he¡¯d been defeated and forced down into the Outer-sect.

    Unfortunately, that hadn¡¯t been the case, instead the youth had proven to be stronger than many amongst their number might have expected Crushing the droves of the disciples that came for his position, with ease.

    Which led to a second sort of headache for the sect, because, the simple fact, was that status in the sect was competitive, with the stronger disciples climbing to higher heights, and those below working to follow behind them.

    The strange youth seemed plenty strong, but for whatever reason he wasn¡¯t climbing, which was somewhat of a problem for the sect, since this turned him into an insurmountable roadblock for all those beneath him, and the backers of those young cultivators, who were trying to cultivate those youths.

    Considering that a powerful sect could rule a kingdom, it should come as no surprise that the sects were like kingdoms in that there were always at least a dozen factions of various sizes existing under a single sect¡¯s banner.

    For such Factions, an obstacle like Edwin Oedheim, was something that couldn¡¯t be tolerated. He couldn¡¯t be pulled in, he was too dangerous to overtly act against, he was simply just a headache.

    Which lead to many seniors turning to their seniors the High-Elders, who in turn, turned to the sect Heads, who in turn found a junior to talk to, and set to the task of rectifying the issue.

    One, Leon Skinner, who¡¯d only recently been allowed back into the fold, and freed from the duty of recruiting for the sect.

 27: Home Visit

    ¡°Quite the lovely home you have here.¡± said Leon. Feeling incredibly awkward after having stormed into his junior¡¯s courtyard only to find his wife there with her maids.

    He would have gone home to come back another day, when the youth was available, but apparently he¡¯d gone missing in search of a sample.

    This was followed by Leon asking what kind of samples, and for what reason the young man was collecting them,  whether the youth had gotten permission from someone to leave the sect, and whether the young woman knew when her husband would be back.

    The answers he received were two polite shrugs, a shy maybe, and yet another shrug. Leading to the old man, feeling weak in the knees, and the dutiful young madame calling her maids, and having them prepare tea.

    ¡°Um...thank you¡­.I, uh, it¡¯s all due to the Sect¡¯s beneficence...All I did was decorate a bit.¡± said Vanessa. Smiling weakly.

    Feeling uncomfortable because technically as an elder of the outer-sect, the older gentleman in front of her, was of a greater status than any of her fathers. Which alone would have been manageable, if it weren¡¯t for the fact that as a member of the inner-sect her husband technically outranked the man. Holding a higher status even if he was of  a lesser-seniority.

    A situation that left Vanessa unsure what the rules of their interactions should be, a feeling that was both unfamiliar and unpleasant to the young woman. Since she generally made it a point to know the proper etiquette of any given situation.

    Further driving in the point that in just a few months time, her world had been drastically changed. Leaving her thoroughly out of her wheelhouse.

    ¡°Mhm, you¡¯re too humble Madame.¡± said Leon. Taking a sip of the tea that the maids had brought in.

    Taking a second sip, when he found himself startled by the sense of refreshment from the first sip.

    ¡°Good tea¡­¡± he said.

    Vanessa nodded. Smiling politely.

    This content has been misappropriated from Royal Road; report any instances of this story if found elsewhere.¡°You¡¯re too kind, sir. Cultivating tea leaves is just a hobby I picked up since I¡¯ve found myself idle while my husband is doing his duty to the sect.¡± said Vanessa.

    Genuinely pleased, and slightly put at ease, to hear a positive reaction to the work she¡¯d taken up.

    The tea-plant breeding project was based on her Edwin¡¯s research for the sect, and the expansive data archives that she¡¯d accessed from his ship, while she was looking for something to do, so she wouldn¡¯t just be sitting alone thinking about how unsure she was of her situation.

    As for old Leon Skinner, after draining his cup, just as he was about to shamelessly ask for me, he realized that he was forgetting why he¡¯d come to the woman¡¯s manor, and grabbed hold of the woman¡¯s mention of her husband.

    ¡°Speaking, of Disciple Edwin, I don¡¯t suppose you know what his plans are, for his membership in the sect? I know he was quite taken with us, but some of us, were growing concerned since he doesn¡¯t seem to be taking too much advantage of the opportunities in front of him.¡± said Leon.

    Vanessa blinked, and then she frowned, unsure of how to answer.

    She¡¯d been just a hair away from blurting out the sad truth, which was that she was pretty certain, her former little brother, and current husband, wasn¡¯t the sort who planned much of anything.

    He schemed sometimes, yes, and if the ship was anything to go by, he had myriad little operations that he worked on as part of his hobbies, but actual planning, for the things that normal people with common sense would plan for...didn¡¯t seem to be the kind of thing he did.

    After a moment of thinking, she saw her husband¡¯s almost childishly innocent face in her mind¡¯s eye, and realized to her horror that this was probably part what he was talking about when he said, that he¡¯d ¡°leave it to her¡±.

    This was was ¡°it¡±, their lives in general were apparently entirely up to her. Which didn¡¯t seem quite right to her.

    It was fine when she thought he was just leaving the business of the household to her, but now she was starting to suspect the man¡¯s intentions.

    She was now wondering exactly how much responsibility he was leaving in her hands, and how much non-responsibility her husband thought he could get away with.

    She was hoping she was misunderstanding something, or over-reacting but something told her that this was not the case.

    Leon watched the young woman who sat across from him, pretty with a sort of mature grace. He wondered if she was ill, for after he¡¯d spoken, she¡¯d spent several minutes sitting in silence, growing increasingly pale.

    A heavy sort of pressure seeming to emanate from within her.

    ¡°Are you quite alright, Madame?¡± said Leon. When he could no longer take the silence and suffocating pressure.

    ¡°Huh? Oh, er...yes. Thank you. Sorry. Erm...You said you were wondering what my husband¡¯s plan is...What kind of plan would you expect someone in his position to have?¡± said Vanessa.

    Working very hard to keep her voice even, and free from the muted horror that she¡¯d felt as she¡¯d realized that the man, she¡¯d married might be even more eccentric than her biological-father was said to be.

    Leon startled, crossing his arms and thinking. Remembering all the propaganda he¡¯d been sent to spew over the years, while he¡¯d been undergoing his decades'' long punishment, serving as a sect recruiter.

    ¡°Well, you know¡­.Fighting his way to the top of the sect,...if he can.  Standing on the peak of his martial potential, and maybe even becoming a true immortal. Divining the secrets of the cultivator world. Mastering various skills. Journeying through the world, making powerful friends, and defeating even more powerful foes. Wooing beautiful women. Saving the weak. Destroying evil¡­.You know, hero stuff. Cultivator stuff.¡±

 28: Hero Stuff

    ¡°Hero Stuff?¡± said Edwin.

    ¡°Hero Stuff¡­¡± said Vanessa.

    Two weeks had passed since Leon Skinner and Vanessa Oedheim had, had their little heart to heart.

    On the Sunday of the third week, Edwin came in with his shoulders dusted with snow. It turned out that he did indeed get permission to leave the sect for the sake of his duties, at least technically. However, he still got scolded for not telling them where he¡¯d been going, or for how long.

    The Disciplinary Division of the Radiant Orrichalcum Gardens might have had more to say, were it not for the terrifying presence of the mysterious senior at the youth¡¯s back.

    Vanessa, on the other hand, who knew that there was no mysterious senior, and only her mysterious husband, gave the young man an earful. Annoyed that he¡¯d gone awol for so long, without discussing it first.

    To which Edwin responded by taking her to the ship, and showing her a screen from which she could monitor the positions of the family and any other persons of interest that they wanted to watch. Allowing her to track of them wherever they were on Embla.

    He then asked why she didn¡¯t just call him, if she was really that concerned, since they all apparently had something called q-link antennas in their head that would let them talk to each other wherever they were in the galaxy, so long as they had energy to power up the antenna.

    Which left the young woman thoughtful, slightly unnerved, but surprisingly enough mostly mollified. It was yet another uncommon thing, that her husband had made, but it would suit her purposes perfectly. And she quietly endeavoured to make use of both devices.

    Now after a small argument, and a light dinner, the couple was lounging in their bedroom. Sleeping on the ship like they always did, because Edwin didn¡¯t trust the maids the sect gave them, an odd bit of cautiousness on his part.

    One that Vanessa went along with because, the man so rarely showed such concerns, and the beds on the ship were actually more comfortable than anything that could be found below. Adjusting to curves and angles of their bodies.

    As they got ready for bed, the two were now idly talking about the esteemed visitor that Vanessa had played host to, two weeks ago.

    ¡°So...I¡¯m supposed to reach the peak of my martial potential, become an immortal, figure out the secrets of the universe, master various skills, travel the world, make friends with people, make enemies with people, and defeat evil?¡±

    Vanessa sighed, as she sat on the edge of her side of the bed, rubbing lotion onto her skin, after having taken her evening bath.

    ¡°Well...that¡¯s what he said.¡±

    ¡°That¡¯s sounds¡­..exhausting.¡± said Edwin.

    Vanessa sighed again, unsure whether or not she agreed. It did sound exhausting, but that was true for all the important things in life.

    ¡°Well that¡¯s apparently what it means to be a cultivator, according to Elder Skinner.¡±

    Edwin sat in silence, his brow furrowed.

    ¡°I mean aren¡¯t we already pretty much immortal?¡±

    Van just vaguely nodded for a bit, till her brain caught up with what had just been said.

    ¡°Yeah..I...Wait, what?!¡±

    ¡°Yeah, I mean all our ships are pretty much an extension of us...and they come equipped with a R.E.S.P.A.W.N system. Just in case the angels go back on their word.¡±

    Van cocked her head, and raised a brow, wondering why her husband was spelling at her.

    Then again her brain caught up with her ears, and she found herself wondering why her husband would be concerned about the angels. Deciding not to touch the issue of the possibility of Embla being destroyed.

    ¡°So, how does¡¯ that make us immortal again?¡± said Van.

    ¡°Okay, so, our bodies are like getting, stronger and stronger, each and every day. The elements in our blood are strong enough already, and constantly improve themselves naturally, but every few days, I think up a bunch of messed up what-ifs and make it so that we¡¯re resistant to that stuff too¡­ you follow.¡± said Edwin.

    ¡°I...follow...I think.¡± said Van. Lying to both her husband and herself.

    ¡°So we¡¯re like natural body cultivators. Without even trying, we improve. We heal fast, senescence isn¡¯t a thing for us, and we¡¯re literally getting more and more indestructible with each passing second. We¡¯re not unstoppable but eventually with enough time, there won¡¯t much anyone can do, other than hurt our feelings...¡±

    ¡°I¡¯m¡­..following.¡± said Van. Keeping very still, in hopes that it would keep her very calm.

    Reminding herself, that all this was supposed to be a good thing, trying not to think about why her husband didn¡¯t seem to think this as groundbreaking or dramatic a matter as she did.

    ¡°So...supposing something ¡°does¡± somehow manage to kill us, even then, we¡¯ve got, quantum-linked digital copies of minds, stored in the ships, and a few other places. Backups, that our essentially us, that can be reinstalled into new bodies, if the worst comes to worst. We shouldn¡¯t die too often though, or it might have consequences for our souls, but so long as those are intact, and the backups are there, we¡¯re fine...¡± The narrative has been illicitly obtained; should you discover it on Amazon, report the violation.

    Vanessa shivered, her temper finally snapping.

    ¡°And you didn¡¯t think you should tell me about this?!¡±

    ¡°Well, obviously I didn¡¯t, had I thought I should tell you I probably would have told you already. I mean, even people down here have techniques so that strong enough cultivators can still keep on keeping on, if they bite it, so long as they¡¯re strong enough, this basically just get¡¯s rid of the cultivation hurdle.¡± said Edwin. Shrugging, sheepishly, looking like he did when Van used to scold him in her class.

    She groaned, putting her face in her palms, and took a deep breath. There was too much wrong with that sentence. He was talking about functional immortality as it were just some magic trick that any idiot on the road could do.

    Arguing with the man was like punching air. Someone who was foolish because they didn¡¯t seem to know better, was harder to deal with, but apologized once they realized, than someone who was simply just a fool, stubbornly so.

    ¡°Please, dear husband, the next time something of similar significance arises, do take note that I would very much like to know about it.¡± she said. Wilting slightly, seeming to have aged ten years, from just think of the implications of what she¡¯d just heard.

    ¡°Noted.¡± said Edwin. His expression so earnest that Vanessa couldn¡¯t help feeling annoyed with both him and herself.

    Annoyed with him for being so clueless, and annoyed with herself, for still being shocked at anything the man did. After all she¡¯d seen, and all the things she¡¯d witnessed, she was now well aware that his common sense and everyone else''s were thoroughly incompatible.

    ¡°Okay, so that¡¯s one down...we¡¯re pretty much immortal already. What about the other stuff?¡± asked Edwin.

    ¡°What about what other stuff?¡± said Van. Tossing her shoulders and she climbed under the bed.

    ¡°Are those seriously things I¡¯m expected to do? Do you want me gallivanting about, getting into fights with things, making an ass of myself, and calling myself a hero while I¡¯m at it¡­¡±

    ¡°Pft...Why do you sound so down on heroes? Heroes get songs written about them, don¡¯t you want songs written about you?¡± said Vanessa. Laughing softly, her tone teasing, as she responded to Edwin¡¯s question.

    ¡°I¡¯ve had songs written about me...And stories¡­.and paintings¡­.and dark prophecies...I¡¯m kind of over that shit¡­¡± said Edwin. His tone dark, and somber. His eyes seeming to spark blue in the gloom.

    Vanessa stared at her husband, and then after a moment, she pat him on the arm, and sighed.

    Sometimes he¡¯d say something cryptic, and vaguely nonsensical, and get upset about it and she¡¯d feel like she was missing some very important context.

    She¡¯d ask about it, and he¡¯d answer that it was another lifetime and that this was one thing that he didn¡¯t want to talk about.

    Edwin had very few things that he minded talking about, so she usually left it alone. But she was always left wishing that she could pry back, the young man¡¯s brain, get a peak, just to know, why he¡¯d look so haunted when he said these things.

    ¡°Alright, then¡­.¡±

    ¡°Alright?¡± said Edwin. Seeming to snap back from wherever, and whenever he¡¯d been within his thoughts, a few seconds ago.

    ¡°Alright, you don¡¯t have to be a hero, or a villain, or anything great like that, you can just be Edwin. My Edwin.¡± said Van.

    ¡°Really?¡± said Edwin.

    ¡°Yes...but I¡¯m pretty sure, you do need to do a little rank climbing, and maybe show the sect that their investment in you is worth it. Maybe build some achievements. Cultivators are supposed to be competitive after all.¡± said Van.

    Edwin brightened.

    ¡°Competitive...Competitive¡­.I-, I think I can do that.¡± he said.

    She smiled, and pat his arm again before turning and pulling the covers up over her shoulders.

    ¡°I believe in you.¡± she said. Meaning it.

    She opened her eyes and then sat up again¡­

    ¡°So...uh, I had an idea the other day, to start a small trading firm.¡±

    ¡°Huh?¡± said Edwin.

    ¡°Well, we spent the evening talking about you...I think it¡¯s fair we talk about me a little, right?¡±

    Edwin thought about and then he nodded smiling.

    ¡°Alright, shoot. What¡¯s on your mind, wife of mine?¡±

    Van rolled her eyes, stunned as always at how quickly the man¡¯s moods could turn.

    ¡°... I spend my days most home alone, sitting on my hands... not doing much...so I figured I should start my own thing, and work on something, instead of just growing roots, because honestly we¡¯ve got the leeway now, and I¡¯ve got the cash...I need some agency of my own, right? Something of my own that I do. I¡¯m not a teacher any more but, I figured there¡¯s got be something I can do, and the first idea that came to mind, was starting a business.¡±

    ¡°A business doing what?¡± asked Edwin.

    ¡°I figured I¡¯d sell some of that tea I was working for, maybe I¡¯d figure something else out from looking out those...what did you call them? Wikis? I don¡¯t really know right now, I¡¯ll probably tall to Wallace, he¡¯s usually good at coming up with schemes...maybe I¡¯ll crib one of his ideas and expand on it.¡±

    ¡°Cool, that¡¯s a great idea. I¡¯ll back you a hundred and ten percent, hon.¡± said Edwin.

    He remembered when they were children, and Wallace and Egon would make little games, and Vanessa would turn them into huge events.

    She was an administrator before she was teacher, and she¡¯d excelled in both position when they were back in Otmar. The woman¡¯s talents lay in taking things to their full potential and beyond. She was the type who could make fire without tinder, even if she wasn¡¯t great at finding that initial spark on her own.

    Vanessa nodded, and was surprised to feel a small bubble of warmth inside her. She realized that she¡¯d been worried about how the man would respond, and chided herself for it. Well aware that she should have known that Edwin would support her plan.

    ¡°Thanks¡­.I also thought I might, maybe visit mom and dad more often, but I know there¡¯s rules about people leaving the sect so if you could maybe see about that for me?¡±

    Edwin nodded.

    ¡°Consider it done. I¡¯ll ask in the morning. Or rather, you know you could have just taken the ship, right? Flown home and then flown back without anyone noticing?¡±

    Van startled, and was glad that the lights were already off, so that young man wouldn¡¯t be able to see her blush. Conveniently forgetting that the two of them had night vision so acute that things like internal lighting hadn¡¯t really been an issue for them, in quite a while.

    She shot back with it a¡­

    ¡°I¡¯m surprised you didn¡¯t mention the wooing beautiful ladies stuff¡­¡± said Van.

    ¡°Huh? Why would I? Aren¡¯t already married to a beautiful woman?¡± said Edwin.

    Van froze, not knowing how to respond to that.

    ¡°Y-, yeah...that doesn¡¯t mean you can¡¯t woo more. Or rather, eventually our little family will need to grow larger.¡±

    ¡°Really? I know monogamy¡¯s not really common, but, to tell you the truth, I¡¯m not sure I¡¯m all that great a husband, and that¡¯s while I only have one wife to answer to, heaven only knows how I¡¯d handle two or three.¡±

    Van rolled her eyes. Laughing lightly.

    ¡°Silly man, you¡¯re perfectly okay for just starting out...Plus, that¡¯s not really up to you now is it?...The head of household is just supposed to be the head of the household. You know, the big strong central support and provider or whatever. The first spouse is the one who actually builds the family. You know how it is¡­One builds one¡¯s house according to its foundations. Strong foundations means a bigger house. And our foundation¡¯s aren¡¯t weak at all so¡­.eventually.¡±

    ¡°Eh?! Really, can¡¯t we just stick with you and me? Plus, Dad, only ever had Mom as a wife.¡±

    ¡°Well, back then, dad...er father-in law was hurt, so our family¡¯s foundations weren¡¯t all that strong, and mom didn¡¯t want to take over as head of the household, because then her stupid family would have been on her, trying to get her to take on a few extra husbands.¡±

    ¡°Really?¡±

    ¡°Yeah, I heard them talking about it sometimes.¡± said Van.

    ¡°Okay, if you say we have to¡­.I guess we have to...but can we push that off into like, way, way, way, far-away. I haven¡¯t even worked up the nerve to properly kiss you yet.¡± said Edwin.

    After touching the ring he¡¯d given her, stroking its smooth surface of metal and crystal, Van sat up, and leaned in towards his direction.

    Her lips pressing against his, as she breathed him in surprised to find, the scent pleasant in an odd antiseptic sort of a way. Like newly forged metal and soap.

    ¡°See, there...Now we¡¯re kissing. N-, no big deal.¡± said Van. Flopping back into bed, and pulling the cover over her head to hide how red her face was.

 29: Wrecking Ball

    Water rushed down a waterfall, splashing into a small lake. In this place there were no cries and calls from the servants and outer-sect members. There were no jeers, challenges, or half-muffled conversations from the inner-sect disciples and sect elders.

    The only sounds were the waterfall, a steady drawing of calmed breath, and the scrape of a skysteel blade being drawn from a shadow-iron sheath.

    Zuzen Bakar, swordsman of the Radiant Orrichalcum Gardens was training in a remote corner of the sect¡¯s grounds.

    Drawing and sheathing his sword repeatedly, as he tried to perfect his radiant blade technique. The meter deep gashes that marked the cliff face that lay behind the waterfall, and stone monolith that stood before it, standing as the only witness of the heroic youth¡¯s diligent efforts.

    Tall like a grass reed, his red and white hair catching the first rays of the morning sun, a haughty smile finally graced his face as he drew the blade for the final time. Returning it to the sheath in the next second, as a blinding white explosion of essence and sword force created yet another deep crevice within the cliff, and bisected the stone monolith.

    Sending rubble and mist flying everywhere. The grass of the glade he stood in, rippling bending beneath the gale his blade created as it moved.

    He drew a breath, holding it and then releasing it as glowing fog, as he allowed his aura to recede. Standing in place as he meditated on what he¡¯d learned from this exercise.

    ¡°Un...Guess it¡¯s time to head back.¡± he said. Speaking aloud to himself.

    Though he had still been on sect grounds, he¡¯d been in seclusion removing himself from all distractions for the sake of honing his skills.

    Now that he¡¯d done that, it was time to go and show his fellow disciples and his seniors in the Radiant Orrichalcum Gardens what he¡¯d achieved.

    First, he returned to his own courtyard in the inner-sect where he had an outer-sect disciple overseeing the work of two dozen or so sect servants that were attending his sect assigned field of flame-essence promoting ginseng.

    Zuzen was only there for the span of a single hour, staying just long enough to shower and dress.

    Then he left again, flying out from his courtyard on the back of his flying sword.

    *************************************************************************************************************

    His destination was the inner-sect arena, he heard the arena before he saw it. The soft roar of the crowd as they speculated on who¡¯d appear next... The cries and calls of the staff and slaves... The Smell of blood, and sweat and magic. It all washed over him.

    Zuzen felt his heart racing, the pace rising with each passing second. He was home, back in his turf, back amongst his people. As a duelist, as a swordsman, as a cultivator, the arena and the battlefield were where he belonged. His two true homes.

    Once he finally arrived, he landed, striding into the arena grounds, and bounding up towards the stands.

    He¡¯d almost made it to his usual seat where he¡¯d have been able to ask the usual people that he generally consorted with, who was fighting, and what he¡¯d missed while he was gone.

    But right then someone called to him, the voice coming from the stage.

    ¡°Are you Zuzen Bakar, Radiant Orrichalcum Garden Inner-Sect Disciple of the hundredth rank?¡±

    Zuzen stopped, turning slowly to face the unassuming young jotun on stage. The younger man¡¯s expression and tone seeming free of ill-intention, despite how utterly provocative the words he¡¯d just spoke were, when said in the arena. The story has been illicitly taken; should you find it on Amazon, report the infringement.

    ¡°And if I am?¡± said Zuzen.

    The youth bowed, cupping his hands.

    ¡°Then I¡¯ll have to trouble senior to show this junior a thing or two, please.¡±

    Fighting words were meant to be answered with fists and blades. After the surrounding audience momentarily fell quiet in a moment of shock, the entire arena began to buzz with speculations. Though, he wasn¡¯t a narcissist, Zuzen assumed that they were all talking about what he, a famed, rising star of the sect was going to do, after being so challenged.

    As for Zuzen himself he simply smiled, taking it as a sign that the heavens were accommodating him today. Thinking that a test for his skills was exactly what he needed. He wasn¡¯t concerned about what others might have perceived as a loss of face, or disrespect from a young upstart. After all, for him to have climbed to where he was by the time he was thirty-five, he¡¯d had to a young upstart as well. Zuzen only saw the opponent in front of him.

    He decided he¡¯d be merciful, testing his skills a little, and giving the young jotun a spanking but not going much further than that.

    ¡°Ora!....Let¡¯s do this punk!¡± roared Zuzen as he leapt onto the arena stage.

    *************************************************************************************************************

    Thirty seconds later, the arena was silenced yet again. Zuzen lay on the ground, confused, dazed, hurting all over.

    He wasn¡¯t quite sure exactly what happened. He¡¯d been winning. He could, and would have sworn that he¡¯d been winning, then suddenly he was lying on his back, in more pain than he¡¯d ever been before.

    He could recall flawlessly performing the radiant sword technique, drawing his blade and having his essence flow into it becoming a sword of light.

    But then he looked down and saw that the strange youth had his own sword of light as well. Multiple swords of light¡­.Hundreds of swords of light. Each of them shining so brightly it made his own blade technique look like a damp candle in a dark cave.

    Each of them a star of lethal luminance.

    *************************************************************************************************************

    Up in a cordoned off area of the stands, sat a group of seniors, all of them with faces that were at least some shade of red and purple or the other, even though most of them possessed lighter or less bright skin tones.

    Leon Skinner sat amongst them, the only pale face in the group. His natural golden skin tone having turned to some closer to alabaster.

    Cold sweat beaded on his brow, as he felt the eyes of his seniors all turning towards him. All full of unspoken blame. He suspected that anytime now, the unspoken part would become a thing of the past.

    Finally one of the seniors, a dark haired bear-woman by the name of Matija Gulbahar, broke the silence, and smacked side just hard enough, that she suspected she¡¯d been tempted to kill him.

    He didn¡¯t loose a sound of pain, nor did he voice a complaint. He just waited, waiting for the seniors to say, whatever it was they were going to say.

    Another senior by the name Boro Alvah, a wolf-eared old man with graying hair, spoke up.

    ¡°You know¡­.When we asked you to put a little chicken blood in the boy, and get him to stop standing in the way of his juniors...None of us expected you to kill an entire farm of chickens, and set the boy on a rampage, trampling all his seniors...I¡¯m not really sure what else to say...Is this talent? Are you an idiot? What do I even call this? Ah...¡± said Boro.

    Leon just shrugged, rubbing his aching side, not sure whether to laugh or to cry.

    ¡°Old sir...I¡¯m sorry, but I¡¯m not sure what to say as well...Perhaps we should just thank the gods, that we¡¯ve taken in such a talented youth¡­¡± said Leon. Trying to play his words off a joke. Earning another blow to the side.

    He hadn¡¯t expected this either, no one had expected this.

    In truth, he felt quite wronged here. This was like being yelled for bringing the family cow out to pasture, on a day that the sky is falling. Skies weren¡¯t supposed to fall, so how could he blamed for it crushing the family cow. This was just bad luck.

    It would seem that young Mrs.Oedheim had told her honorable husband what Elder Skinner had said. This much was clear to everyone.

    What no one expected was that he¡¯d take it so much to heart that he wouldn¡¯t just begin slowly progressing up the ranks, to get out of the way of the juniors below, but would instead rocket up the ranks.

    Exploiting the sect''s rules for challenging others within the same circle of the sect to the fullest, and climbing up the rankings in bounds of ten and fifteen.

    In just a few month¡¯s time the youth had gone from being the three-thousandth out of three thousand inner-sect disciples, and as of poor, Zuzen, he¡¯d become the hundredth ranked.

    Which was amazing for the youth, and perhaps spoke well for what he could do for the sect as well, but for the seniors of the sects, and the various factions within the sect it was something of a nightmare.

    He¡¯d gone from becoming a stumbling block in the way of many influential seniors¡¯ future plans, to a wrecking ball, that was smashing through all their current ones.

    He¡¯d won around two hundred or three hundred duels, and had done so in the most devastating of fashions.

    Cleanly dispatching his opponents in an instant and making use of techniques that were like the ones his opposition were making use of, except higher grade, and profound to an extent that several amongst the seniors would have to begrudgingly admit to having drawn some semblance of insight from it.

    The only mercy was that no one had been seriously hurt, and the young man¡¯s winning streak was setting the boy apart, to the extent that was no being taken as something beyond the realm of monsters. Only a few stubborn seniors like the one¡¯s around Skinner were taking still taking offense.

    The rest seemed to have taken to consoling their young followers and apprentices, categorizing the unicorn horned youth, as a humanoid disaster. An unpredictable, unstoppable calamity, that must simply be weathered, and survived.

    With a few sly souls amongst them considering how such a harsh blowing wind could be harnessed. Refusing to believe that they couldn¡¯t turn this in their favor somehow.

 30: Congenial In-laws

    Vanessa Oedheim was in the ship, sitting in a room that she¡¯d reformatted, changing the layout, and having the walls grow an observation screen, similar to the one that Edwin showed her before.

    She watched her husband crush yet another member of the Radiant Orrichalcum Garden¡¯s Inner-circle. Doing so dispassionately, with a terrifying efficiency. Using what seemed to be an infinitely more profound version of the swordsman¡¯s technique to defeat him in a space of seconds.

    Once again, it was impressed upon her that her husband was something of an odd case. It was said that every man had at least three faces, one that he showed to the world, one that he showed to his family and friends, and one that even he might not know about.

    Edwin¡¯s public face, was straight-forward, polite, and calm. His private face was earnest, and childishly bright, sometimes energetic, sometimes laid back. Then there was the face that she was watching him make right now. The one she¡¯d always called the bug, or the machine.

    It¡¯d creep the hell of out her watching him make that face back when they were kids. And now that she was his wife, she wasn¡¯t really feeling that much more positive about it.

    She wasn¡¯t scared anymore, not like she used to be, she knew that the youth would never knowingly harm her, or any of the rest of the family.

    Yet, looking into those eyes that were devoid of any emotion, save perhaps a muted sense of morbid-curiosity, and a single-minded focus that looked not at the things right in front of him, but instead looked to their consequences in some far off future, she couldn¡¯t help shivering.

    Keenly aware in the back of her mind, that just as he was taking care not to seriously harm anyone he challenged, or anyone who challenged him, he could have easily turned that scene into a bloodbath. With the only thing that stood in the way of that possibility being that it wasn¡¯t in line with the man¡¯s goals at the moment.

    Which seemed like a matter of fact, common sense thing to know, but wasn¡¯t, because other people would have other things there to stop them, like the sanctity of life, or morality, or a certain level of empathy making them resistant to the idea of hurting people.

    Normally, one had to train soldiers to kill, just to get them over that hurdle.

    Seeing that machine-like face, Van knew that none of that was there. She loved Edwin, when he was her brother, and still loved him, now that he was husband, but she was well aware that the man was somewhat...off.

    The only reason the youths that routinely lay on stage, at Edwin¡¯s feet were always still breathing when he was done with them, was because it suited his purposes, nothing more, nothing less.

    After watching his fight, and seeing that all was well, she sighed, and changed the focus of the screen as she decided to think of other things. The visuals changing to that of the arid yet viridescent, Emerald Steppes.

    She was going home to Rus to visit her family, and the best part was that Edwin had come through, and gotten permission from the sect so she could make it a nice long visit if she so chose.

    The bemused bride suspected that the sect had thought the their troublesome young disciple would be going with her when they gave their permission.

    The trip could have been over quite quickly but seeing no reason to hurry, Van was having the ship fly at a more leisurely place. Allowing for her arrival to come in a matter of hours, rather than minutes.

    Time that she spent looking over a series of text-covered holographic windows that held information concerning open venues in the continent of Harta, with the Palmas Kingdom being given the most focus.

    She was researching spots to open her first shop, and researching places to open her shop, had lead to researching how one might open a shop period. Which then in turn lead to researching market trends, and possible niches in demand for her to take advantage of.

    It was dry reading, but she was having a surprising amount of fun with it.

    She couldn¡¯t help wondering why Edwin had all this information just sitting around, or why or how, he¡¯d gotten the Harta specific data. Especially the stuff concerning private deals that absolutely no one besides the concerned parties, and possibly the kingdom, really should have known about.

    She¡¯d ultimately decided that in this instance she wasn¡¯t even going to bother asking about it.

    Vanessa did this for about three hours, allowing the ship to fly itself, and only closing the holographic desktop when the ship informed her that she¡¯d reached her destination.

    *************************************************************************************************************

    Rus was more or less exactly as Vanessa remembered it, a dusty, rough and tumble little town in the middle of nowhere. A town populated with an odd mixture of extremely neighborly folk, and strangers who looked like they¡¯d just run there with the devil on their tail.

    Van however wasn¡¯t exactly the same woman she¡¯d been when she left, looking and feeling slightly out of place, with her gown and robe of tastefully matched satin and silks making her look like a lady of the courts.

    Stolen from Royal Road, this story should be reported if encountered on Amazon.

    Which was why she changed before disembarking. She generally tried to dress to fit her setting. Her brief time outcast from the family of her birth, the McBriars, had made her sensitive to not fitting in, and while she was still quite individualistic, standing out unnecessarily wasn¡¯t something that made her feel ill at ease.

    It took one mental command to have the ship teleport her down to the town below, she had it drop her off a little away from the town, so as not to draw unnecessary attention. She walked in through Rus¡¯s gates, and took her time meandering through the dusty streets.

    Visiting a few old haunts, and saying hi to a few old faces before she reached her childhood home.

    The first thing that greeted her was the sight of her father, shirtless broad backed, skin gleaming with sweat. His dark-green skin aglow with health. His eyes were brighter than she¡¯d ever seen them before almost seeming to glow.

    He was training with his sword, and Egon, his eldest son, and Wallace, Van, and Edwin¡¯s, eldest brother trained with him.

    Their blades shattered just as Van arrived, she jolted and quickened her pace, concerned.

    ¡°Hey you guys okay?¡± said Van.

    Jarek just stood staring at the shattered hilt in his hands for a few seconds before reacting to his voice.

    Then his face brightened again, and he laughed, turning around and smoothly sweeping the young woman up in an embrace.

    ¡°Hah...Yeah, we¡¯re fine...It¡¯s just that these days we go through we go through practice gear a lot¡­¡± said Jarek.

    ¡°Heya, sis.¡± said Egon. Stretching a bit before beginning to pick up the biggest of the metal splinters.

    ¡°Hi yourself, stone-face. How¡¯s it going?¡± said Van. Taking the chance to tease the

    Egon just rolled his eyes, and continued with what he was doing. Van let him go, knowing that he¡¯d probably be more willing to chat later. Egon was the most reserved of the four...now three..Vis-Oddmund siblings and generally did things at his own pace.

    Van returned her attention to her father who still had his arm slung over her shoulder.

    ¡°You know, dad...I mean...You know, father-in-law¡­¡±

    Jarek laughed.

    ¡°No need to be reserved...just because the arrangement of things has changed a little doesn¡¯t mean that we aren¡¯t all still family.¡±

    Van smiled.

    ¡°Okay..... dad. Anyway, I was thinking you can probably ask Eddy to set some stuff up for you guys, not just practice weapons either...he¡¯s got all this equipment up in the you know what...practically an entire factory...Or maybe not practically a factory. I¡¯m pretty sure it¡¯s just a legit factory, and a huge one too¡­¡±

    Jarek stroked his cleanly shaven chin, his face clear of the usual five o¡¯clock shadow that it used to bear, before his miraculous recovery.

    ¡°Mhm...that does sound like an idea.¡± said Jarek. His eyes sparkling. His thoughts seeming to turn to matters that weren¡¯t just contained to the personal gear of him and his son.

    They entered the house where Vanessa was stolen, pulled into the crushing embrace of her former mother and current mother-in-law.

    ¡°Sweetie...Why didn¡¯t you call I could have made something special.¡±

    ¡°Well...I kind of wanted to surprise you and...Wait, Call? You mean you knew about the call functions?¡± said Van.

    Olivia smiled, pulling out a small brick of glowing crystal that was housed in a slim case of silvered metal.

    ¡°Of course, I even had him give me a little battery so it¡¯d be easier to power the connection for longer conversations and distances.¡±

    Van sighed, musing to herself, figuring that she should have expected her no-nonsense mother to have been able to sort through Edwin¡¯s lack of common sense, to get at key little details like those concerning any important powers or features that came with their new bodies.

    After, a bit of quiet sulking, she quickly made a mental note to remind Edwin to get her one of those handheld batteries, just in case she ever needed to call someone while she wasn¡¯t in the ship.

    ¡°So¡­.¡± said Olivia.

    ¡°So¡­.¡± said Van.

    ¡°How¡¯s the married life treating you two?¡± said Olivia. Genuinely curious, unsure how to feel about the fact her two youngest children had ended up getting married first, and to each other.

    Pretty sure, that things would be okay since they were both, pretty great kids growing up. Even tempered, with personalities that didn¡¯t clash too often, or too seriously.

    ¡°It¡¯s...okay.¡± said Van. Allowing her mother-in-law to guide them both to one of the small house¡¯s sitting rooms. Where a tea set was apparently already set up, leading to Van suspecting that her mother might well have gotten Edwin to set her up with a tracking screen as well.

    Van sat down, and served her mother some tea, and then got some tea for herself as well, taking three extra lumps of sugar to satisfy a hankering for sweet that had been building up on the ride over.

    ¡°Hm...that¡¯s good to hear.¡± said Olivia. Nodding. Happy that the two seemed to be proving more compatible than she¡¯d worried they¡¯d be.

    The two sat in silence for a bit, and for once Van found herself hating her new super hearing, because she could now pick up on every creak and groan in the house. The knowledge that they were being quiet enough to hear such things, and that her mother turned mother-in-law could hear it as well, making the awkward silence that much more awkward.

    ¡°He¡¯s been doing pretty good for himself in the sect¡­¡± said Vanessa. Saying anything, because for some reason, even though she¡¯d come with a thousand things that she¡¯d wanted to talk about, right at that second she could of any.

    ¡°Oh, that¡¯s good.¡± said Oliva. Smiling softly as she took a sip of tea.

    ¡°He¡¯s actually ninety-ninth ranked in the inner sect now.¡± said Van.

    ¡°My, that¡¯s actually quite impressive.¡± said Olivia. Her stately calm dropping for a moment as heard the news. Impressed as a warrior, and proud as the mother of a warrior.

    Aware from her own experiences in the world, how high a height ninety-ninth in the inner-sect actually was.

    ¡°Well, I can imagine how excited your father will be to hear that¡­.¡± Olivia. Chuckling.

    ¡°Right.¡± said Van. Joining the other Jotuness¡¯ laughter with her own.

    ¡°So¡­.how far have you two gotten with each other?¡± said Olivia. The question leaving Van choking on her tea.

    ¡°*Cough*, *Cough*, What?¡± said Van, her blue face reddening as it grew flushed, and she grew flustered.

    ¡°It¡¯s nothing, dear. I was just wondering when you two are going to give me a grandchild is all. You can¡¯t blame an old woman for being a little anxious, right? After all, none of us are getting any younger.¡±

    Van nearly dropped the delicate porcelain cup that she held, unsure how to respond, and thoroughly thrown.

    ¡°I...We...We¡¯re working on it?....No wait... Hold on a second!¡­¡± said Van. Remembering yet another of Edwin¡¯s long spiels on what the elements n their bodies were capable of.

    ¡°We, Eddy, Wally, Egon, and me, aren¡¯t getting any older and you, you¡¯re actually getting younger!¡± said Van. Leaping to her feet, and noticing for the first time, that much of the gray in the other woman¡¯s hair, and the wrinkles in her face, had seemed to disappear since she¡¯d seen her mother last.

    For her part Olivia just looked down at herself as if startled to find that she did indeed no longer look like she was several decades older than the young woman she¡¯d been sitting with. Appearing as if there was only a handful of years between them.

    ¡°Ara...Oh my, looks like it¡¯s true...Even then...I can still look forward to the future, no?¡± said Olivia. Pressing on as if nothing had happened. Teaching the young wife, the terror that was a mother-in-law.

 31: A Filial Childs Troubles Pt.1

    The first week of visiting her family in Rus went by uneventfully. Vanessa spent most of the time hanging around and trying to avoid her family. She¡¯d help out around the house, and usually went with them when they went into town. She¡¯d usually end up fleeing at least once per evening, running for cover, whenever her mother brought up the subject of grandchildren, and how things between her and Edwin were going. Spending those moments when she was hiding from her mother getting in touch with the friends she had in town.

    Visiting the school, and being visited by some of her favorite former students.

    During the second week Wallace showed up with his friends in tow, Vanessa got a reprieve from her mother¡¯s close attentions, because young Patricia Patterson was also amongst the group, and no matter how she and Wallace tried to hide it, everyone and their grandmother and their grandmother¡¯s dog, could see that there was something between the two.

    The third week of Vanessa¡¯s holiday in Rus seemed to be more of the same, at least it seemed so, till one day, a carriage appeared outside the vis-Oddmund house.

    If she had her way Vanessa would have pretended not to see it, unfortunately emblazoned on the side of the carriage were the crazy-eyed bull moose and boar that the Count of Otmar used as his personal heraldry.

    It wasn¡¯t the McBriar family that had come calling but the count himself, or one his trusted aides.

    Not wanting to bring trouble to her family¡¯s doorstep by antagonizing the Count, by refusing to show him face while they were still living in Otmar, she informed her mother of the matter, and after a brief discussion with her parents, went to knock on the door of the carriage.

    Inside the carriage sat a face that she¡¯d not seen in quite a while, old Eustice the count¡¯s attendant.

    ¡°Hello, Miss.¡± said Eustice. His wrinkled green face looking as impassive and long suffering as ever.

    ¡°I¡¯m a Missus now¡­¡± said Van. Not really complaining, just saying the first thing that came to mind.

    For his part Eustice simply nodded.

    ¡°Ah, so it seems...Congratulations on your nuptials, Mrs.Oedheim.¡± said the old man. His ready switch of address revealing that he¡¯d been well aware of her marital status and had merely been feeling her out.

    Van sighed, having been reminded of why Eustice Forrester was her father¡¯s most favored attendant, and why it was said that despite the count having many wives, the true matron of Otmar¡¯s McBriar household was the old man in front of her.

    The man was as unflappable as Hunfred her biological father was volatile. Thus when they worked together, they negated each other. Moving from their personal extremes to a highly functional middle-ground.

    Unauthorized duplication: this narrative has been taken without consent. Report sightings.

    In truth had Eustice been a woman, or had the Count been the sort to prefer male company it was highly possible that the two might have actually wed.

    ¡°Thank you, Eustice. I do hope you¡¯ve been well since I¡¯ve seen you last.¡± said Van.

    The old man sighed.

    ¡°Age is what it is...and the passage of time is ruthless, and yet, I am still alive, as such one can only presume that all is well, Mrs.Oedheim.¡± said Eustice.

    ¡°...Er¡­.right.¡± said Van.

    From there they rode in silence. Letting them carry them to where the mad Count sat waiting.

    Two weeks later she¡¯d stand before a panel of judges, dithering over whether or not she should call on her husband for help, or whether she could handle the matter in front of her on her own.

    ¡°Vanessa Oedheim-McBriar, you stand accused of the crime sedition, conspiracy and treason. Crimes for which the courts have found you guilty. Now you have been sentenced to be beheaded...Have you any final statements to make?¡± said a stony faced judge, with horns like an ox.

    Vanessa stood in the royal high courts of the Palmas Kingdom¡¯s Capital City Cypress. Heavy irons had been clapped around her wrists and ankles, and she was dressed in a rumpled ball gown.

    Having been asked if she had any statements to make, Vanessa unsurprisingly found quite a few coming to mind. Unfortunately she couldn¡¯t say most of them, because using that kind of language before a judge of the royal courts, would have likely had her put in contempt.

    An actual charge hidden amongst the heap of false ones.

    After mentally heaping abuse upon everyone responsible for her current predicament, and their eighteen generations, including herself, Van calmed down and forced a smile.

    Pulling off the look quite nicely. Looking a sky blue rose that had managed to sprout while buried amidst a dung heap.

    ¡°Well, your honor...While I can only accept what the courts have decided...I must say that I do still maintain my innocence...and I assure you and your fellows who serve on the bench of Cypress¡¯s Royal High Court that all this is really just a big misunderstanding. As I¡¯ve yet to be given my chance to speak if you¡¯ll just give me a few minutes of your time I¡¯ll....¡±

    The doors of the court slammed open, interrupting the young woman¡¯s words.

    In walked the Count of Otmar, standing a little less stoop backed, his wild silver-white mane swept back and combed for once. His clothes sitting regally on his rangey, aged yet muscular, frame.

    A look of relief mixed with resentment and annoyance played across Vanessa¡¯s face before she smoothly hid away the latter emotions, leaving only an unconcealed relief.

    The man who was most responsible for Vanessa¡¯s current straights strode into the court. Cackling.

    ¡°Ka! Ka! Ka!....Archibald, you old goatfucker...They finally got your fat ass up behind the judicial bench, eh?¡± said Hunfred. His words drawing a gasp from the jury and court¡¯s audience, and a groan from everyone else.

    For his part, Head Judge, Archibald Rainstone remained unmoved, his expression seeming to grow even stonier, as he took the Count¡¯s verbal barb.

    ¡°You¡¯re not supposed to be here, Count Hunfred...According to the king¡¯s decree you¡¯ve been exiled.¡± said another Judge. A skinny, pinch faced old man who looked more like a weasel-kin than the jotun that he¡¯d been born as.

    Hunfred pretended to look flustered for a moment before giving sheepish look that wasn¡¯t fit man his age to be wearing.

    ¡°Ah...that¡¯s true...It really is...but you see, I sent my little girl to the capital to take in some culture and sign some things for me, and it looks like some chucklehead thought it safe to bully her. And well....you guys know how I am¡­¡±

    It would be the first time that either Van or Archibald lost their composure, with Head Judge Archibald realizing that someone had used him and his courts as pawns, and Van feeling aggrieved hearing her biggest bully pretending to be concerned for her.

    Well aware that if weren¡¯t for him she wouldn¡¯t even be there, fighting with her life on the line. She¡¯d have been home with her real family instead of getting tangled up in the melodrama that lay between the McBriar household and the Palmas Kingdom¡¯s royal family.

 32: Progressing as Planned

    Edwin Oedheim missed his wife. Feeling an odd loneliness that he hadn¡¯t felt since he¡¯d been reborn as a Jotun.

    Van hadn¡¯t been joking when she said she was going to have a nice long visit with their people in Rus; it had been two months since he¡¯d seen her last, and two weeks since he¡¯d last talked to her.

    He¡¯d just gotten word from his parents that she might not be back for even longer, and now he was worried that she might have decided she honestly didn¡¯t want to be married to him anymore, and this was his her way of letting him down gently. Though for now it was only a slight worry sitting nested in the back of his mind, with all the more irrational bits of his psyche.

    With likelihood of his parent''s saying something, if this was the case, and the unlikelihood of Van being indirect when it came to such an issue, keeping those anxious whispers in the back of his mind faint.

    Normally he would have gone to visit as well, or at least dropped in to say hi, and be around his kinfolk for a bit, but lately he¡¯d been pre-occupied with things in the sect.

    This morning like all other mornings he teleported down from the ship. Lately he''d been sleeping on a second ship, a vessel he¡¯d built in his free-time making use of a printer from the original ship and a nearby mountain range that he didn¡¯t think anyone would miss.

    The ship itself looking like an island sized nautilus with an ornate metal cathedral for its shell. The outer portion of the hull covered in fortifications and projections that would be meant to house knew additions, or accommodate connection points and walkway should Edwin decide to turn the ship into a station. From which he could monitor all of Embla and its neighboring worlds while suspended in the planet¡¯s orbit.

    As he understood it, he¡¯d been trapped in a Universe, and not just on Embla alone, he figured that eventually he might want to get around to seeing what else was out there in his cosmic prison.

    That was for later though, much later. For now it was just so that he¡¯d have a ship for his own use, while Van had the other for her¡¯s.

    He¡¯d spend part of the morning checking up on the herb fields that the sect been made part of his duty.

    Recently there¡¯d been a few new additions to the roster of plants and medicine flora that the sect had him growing.

    Joining the fields of the more innocuous modified glass-petalled flowers, were fields of nine-eyed grass, and clear-soul mandragora. Two herbs that were known to be particularly useful for the purification of poisons, and the boosting of essence levels, respectively.

    Naturally he had cultures of more wildly modified versions of those plants, and many others that he¡¯d sampled from around the sect¡¯s grounds, growing on his ship, but that went without saying. Support the author by searching for the original publication of this novel.

    The fact that they¡¯d raised the number of rare plants in his trust from one to three, was a sign that the sects trust in him was rising. At least that¡¯s how Edwin chose to see it anyway.

    He was even considering the idea of talking to his seniors and showing them some of slightly more impressive samples of the herb strains he¡¯d cultivated.

    He¡¯d taken to heart the idea that he had to at least look like he was trying his hardest to ¡°stand above all others¡±, like Elder Skinner, and the other Seniors of the sect apparently wanted.

    It wasn¡¯t hard to exceed expectations when it came to completing his sect duties. The Radiant Orrichalcum Garden¡¯s bread and butter was the cultivation and collection of rare resources. Once upon a time, Edwin could quite literally say he was built for that kind of stuff.

    Satisfying their demands of him as a cultivator on the other hand was a bit more difficult.

    This day¡¯s afternoon was like all other afternoons where Edwin would find himself standing on the stage of the inner-sect arena.

    He fought an average of two to three title matches per week, progressing an average of ten ranks with each match he¡¯d won.

    Just now...with the fall of the youth who knelt before him, breath heavy, eyes gloomy and unresigned, one hand clapped over his broken arm, Edwin had just managed to climb past the inner-circle of the sect and into the core ranks.

    While the rest of the arena, and the seniors of the sect who were watching, all sat astounded, some of them accepting that this final step was all but inevitable, others staring at the youth as if wishing they could tear him open to find whatever secret was behind such a meteoric rise, the youth himself was questioning himself.

    Wondering how high was high enough, wondering when it¡¯d be okay to just hang about for a bit again, and work on his hobbies. Instead of constantly picking fights, researching his prospective opponents so he could know exactly how to effectively crush them, and prove both to them and the entire sect that he was exactly the go-getter that Elder Skinner and his wife thought he should be.

    For Edwin the win was more or less meaningless because he knew he¡¯d still be researching his next opponent by the week¡¯s end. His ¡°obligation¡± as a cultivator to crush all that lay before him, wasn¡¯t done...and if that wasn¡¯t enough, there was something else that he had to deal with.

    Just as soon as the match that made him a member of the sect¡¯s core-circle had been won, a group of shadows fell from the sky, having leapt them from the stands. All of them dressed in the blue, white and yellow that were the sect¡¯s colors. All of them bearing familiar faces.

    This little gang of sore losers, was made of every disciple that Edwin had, had to defeat on his way to the sect¡¯s core-circle from the hundredth rank of the inner-sect up.

    Being ambushed by this group had become almost routine. He¡¯d win a match and then they¡¯d appear. He¡¯d hang out in the sect¡¯s common areas and then they¡¯d appear. He¡¯d leave the sect for a bit, and then they¡¯d try to trail him, hanging around dejected for days, till he came back and they¡¯d appear. Sharp and in formation.

    If it weren¡¯t for the sect¡¯s rules and some protections that Edwin had put over his courtyard they¡¯d probably have appeared there as well. It was tiring and somewhat confusing and took up a troublesome amount of his time. He¡¯d normally have just crushed them, but he couldn¡¯t since they were his fellow sect members, and he wasn¡¯t entirely sure of their motive.

    Edwin sometimes thought they hated him, but then other times he¡¯d just feel as if they just had too much free time on their hands. It might have been because both he and they, seemed to be well aware that they weren''t really a threat to him.

    Looking at the group, he could only sigh, and then cast a healing spell on the youth he¡¯d just defeated, so that the youth could join them, and get the second chance his hateful eyes seemed to dearly desire.

    He figured he might as well, so he could get used to fighting the group with its inevitable new member, a little sooner. The likelihood of the youth joining the group being so high, it might as well have been carved in stone.

    After some hesitation and a slow roll of his shoulders, the youth stood and then awkwardly added himself to the dozen or so other youths that surrounded Edwin, standing with their weapons drawn.

 33: A Filial Childs Troubles Pt.2

    ¡°So... how are you doing, Vanessa darling? How¡¯s life been treating you?¡± said Hunfred.

    ¡°My life has been well, m¡¯lord. Thank you for asking.¡± said Vanessa. Her response to his question curt, for all that her tone stayed neutral and polite. With the unsaid ¡°-no thanks to you¡± being allowed to enter the air on its own.

    Hunfred wasn¡¯t sure, but he was pretty certain, so long as neither of them coughed, one could hear the mice mating in the walls right then.

    Having had many children, and many wives, and having had them all grow cross with him at some point or the other, he could tell that the other party wasn¡¯t feeling very fond of him at the moment.

    He sat across from a young woman, fine featured with skin that was blue like the sky and hair that was white like the clouds. Her head crowned with stag horns that shined an odd silver-blue.

    Despite not having been taught by the same tutors and teachers that he¡¯d afforded the rest of his offspring, the woman had a poise and class, that could put more than a few of them to shame.

    Stiff backed, with an even stiffer upper lip, and the balls to meet his stormy gaze directly. There was no denying that she was a child of good breeding. He made a mental note to have Eustice send a thank you gift to the vis-Oddmund¡¯s for raising his little girl so well.

    If things had been different he suspected that she¡¯d have been something, someone, he could have felt proud of. However things, were what they were, and she was instead a source for one of his rare pangs of guilt.

    ¡°So...I hear you got married, since I you last.¡± said Hunfred. Trying to make small talk before moving on to what he really want to speak about.

    ¡°I do believe I was five or so when you saw me last, m¡¯lord.¡± said Van.

    *Cough*...*Cough*

    Hunfred bought himself time to recover from that gut blow, by pretending to choke on the mouthful of custard he was eating. Not minding too much, when somehow pretending turned to the real thing.

    The rattle in his chest reminding him that even he was not immortal, and that he¡¯d taken life far too fast and hard, to risk wasting time and letting the things he needed to do, go undone.

    He sat there trying to get his breathing back under control, wincing as he felt rare bit of guilt flaring up. Being the ¡°mad count¡± usually didn¡¯t get in the way of being a good parent, and that was a point of pride for him. The fact that unlike most noble sires he was at least an adequate father.

    He provided for them the best he could. He went to his kids¡¯ events, he made sure to see all of them at least twice a month, he gave sage advice.

    In his mind, if some of them ended up shitty, that was their mother¡¯s fault, their mothers and their mothers¡¯ families.

    The only ones that eve truly fell to the way side were those like Vanessa who he decided to send away for some reason or the other, and that was for the sake of shielding them.

    And the ones who¡¯d died.

    There were only three who¡¯d had to disown for this own sakes like that, two of which, had wandered off to who knows where, and Vanessa who now sat right in front of him looking less than pleased to have been shanghaied into meeting with her estranged father.

    Which made the old man not know whether to laugh or cry. Aware that if she was feeling aggrieved now, she probably wouldn¡¯t be loving what he was about to do in the next minute or so.

    *************************************************************************************************************

    ¡°Yo, Ji-ro...did I ever tell you that you¡¯re my favorite brother? Cause you are...totes. So, a little birdy told me that the old man¡¯s up to something. Since you and Liam are his right hand men, I figured you¡¯d know what he¡¯s up to.¡± said a woman. Tall, broad and curvaceous. Her presence explosive, invading the room like a million moose stampede.

    Jiro, a young jotun of twenty years or so, with short shorn hair, and bull horn, just rolled his eyes. Not even bothering to look up from the bowl of custard he was eating.

    ¡°Then why don¡¯t you go and ask Liam then, Vivian?¡± said Jiro.

    She pouted.

    ¡°If I could I would, brother...Unfortunately for some reason, are big brother Liam seems to hate me.¡± said Vivian McBriar. Making herself look as pitiable as she could manage. Taken from Royal Road, this narrative should be reported if found on Amazon.

    Which was evidently not enough to get her brother Jiro to do anymore than to roll his eyes again.

    ¡°Nh...Yes, a true mystery. Well I¡¯m sure when they find all the pieces of that fiance of his he¡¯ll forgive and forget in due time.¡±

    ¡°Do you really think so?¡± said Vivian. Her tone bright, as if she were asking in earnest, which might well have been the case.

    While all the McBriar children possessed some of their father¡¯s madness, Vivian was of those McBriar heirs that for whatever reason seemed to attain a double helping of their father¡¯s craziness.

    With the result being that quite a few of them were either dead or languishing in dungeons across the kingdom, with only the smarter, milder ones being be allowed to walk freely.

    ¡°No...Viv...Just no.¡±

    ¡°Aw...that¡¯s no fair. I was like...twelve when I set that up. I was trying to blow him up back then, not his stupid girlfriend¡­How I was supposed to know she¡¯d show up at his manor to try and surprise him.¡± complained the woman.

    ¡°Because it was his birthday...you tried to blow him up on his birthday. Many people showed up back then. I showed up back then. We¡¯d planned a ¡°surprise¡± party. It¡¯s in the name. Even if that wasn¡¯t the case, it¡¯s still a very valid reason for him to be¡­.cross...with you.¡±

    ¡°I suppose.... I still say it¡¯s damn petty.¡± said Vivian. Huffing, as she sat down across from her younger brother.

    Jiro just shook his head and returned to eating his custard.

    ¡°Hey-hey, hold on...you never said what the old man is planning?¡± said Vivian.

    Jiro didn¡¯t look up as he answered.

    ¡°I never said I was going to tell you that¡­.¡±

    ¡°Aw...don¡¯t be that way, little bro. Come on...I¡¯ll you one. I¡¯ll even tell you what Nickie and his lot are up to¡­¡±

    Jiro gave his sister a wary eye, and then with a sigh, he let his spoon rest within the custard bowl, raising his head.

    ¡°Okay, so...you know how the old man is well...old...and everything.¡±

    ¡°Yes, I¡¯m pretty sure I¡¯m aware of time and its effects on the not-young. Please move on to the good stuff, I can actually feel myself getting older talking to you here.¡± said Vivian.

    Jiro just scoffed, moving on as if he hadn¡¯t heard her complaint.

    ¡°So the old man is old right?...and the thing that all thirty or so of us, have been fighting for is the future he¡¯ll leave behind for us. The inheritance. Thing is¡­.there¡¯s actually two inheritances. There¡¯s the one that comes with being head of the clan, and there¡¯s one that comes from the old man himself. His special status from the kingdom.The special honors he got in return for his services to the kingdom.¡±

    ¡°Okay...I¡¯m listening. Don¡¯t leave me in suspense.¡± said Vivian.

    ¡°Well, the inheritance for the clan is still up in the air¡­¡± said Jiro. Not bothering to mention the the high likelihood of it going to either him, Liam or their eldest, rarely mentioned brother, Rylin. The one who was currently also in the Capital as a Courtier in the Royal Palace and political hostage.

    ¡°...but it seems father has made up his mind concerning who gets his special status and will be passing it to the inheritor early.¡±

    Vivian stared at her young brother eyes wide as she finished connecting the dots. First there was shock and then there was outrage.

    ¡°You mean...So that¡¯s why he called little Van here?! That¡¯s not okay!...What the hell?! So just like that we¡¯re getting screwed out of half the inheritance. Do you know how much planning I¡¯ve put in? Do you know how hard I¡¯ve worked to stay on that old man¡¯s good!?¡±

    Jiro shrugged, suppressing a sneer. He finished his custard and then sat up to see that Vivian had now gone from mere outrage to full on rage. He felt a flash of admiration that the woman could call the Count¡¯s strained toleration of her, his good side. Both amused and bemused to see how the woman across from him was acting as if she¡¯d been wronged.

    Sighing as he remembered all the headaches and near death experiences he¡¯d had to face before climbing to his current status in the family. He decided he needed to say something before she did something rash.

    ¡°Calm down! The special status is just a special status.Trust me, its not something to lose your mind over.¡±

    ¡°Does it come with a money?¡± asked Vivian.

    ¡°Well...yes.¡± said Jiro.

    ¡°How about land?¡± asked Vivian.

    ¡°...Mhm, I¡¯m pretty sure there¡¯s a few islands off the coast of the Continent that are attached to the status.¡±

    ¡°And of course, the status comes in the form of a title right?!¡± said Vivian. Her silvery white locks standing on end, her aura making the hairs writhe like a nest of serpents.

    Jiro could see what her conclusion would be and could only answer in the affirmative. Knowing that it¡¯d be no good to lie.

    ¡°...Right.¡±

    ¡°Then this is bullshit...Fucking bullshit...Some little girl from bumfuck nowhere doesn¡¯t get to come in and-!¡±

    ¡°Calm. DOWN!¡± said Jiro. Speaking softly but adding just enough essence into his voice to give the work an impact that would have struck like a physical blow. Bringing out the strength that allowed him to rise in the family despite being one of the youngest amongst old man¡¯s heirs.

    Vivian quieted flinching slightly, giving her younger brother a resentful look.

    ¡°Yes, our Lord Father is giving up one of his titles...but it was a title that none of us were going to get anyway, so it¡¯s honestly not that big a deal that he¡¯s giving it away and if what he¡¯s planning works, giving it to little Van, will make the position of clan head as well as the holdings the rest of us were given before, worth more, in the long run.¡± said Jiro.

    Vivian stilled, like sea after a passing storm she calmed, her greed quelling her outrage.

    ¡°Alright, I¡¯ve calmed down. Now explain why I¡¯m not back at my manor calling up the rest of our siblings to let them know that father¡¯s giving away what¡¯s ours?.¡±

    Jiro leaned back in his seat and collected himself. Subduing an urge to just remove the annoyance in front of him using violence instead of words. He resisted because he knew that though his father had been lenient when it came to Jiro¡¯s handling of the more heinous and incorrigible of his elder siblings, being seen as brute would affect his standing in the family hierarchy.

    ¡°So, imagine I gave you a coin. A magic coin that makes a little Count the equivalent of a Grand Duke¡­As well as heightening the holdings, and authority of the little Count¡¯s family.¡±

    ¡°Go on¡­¡± said Vivian.

    ¡°Now imagine I put that coin under a dragon, which has a bigger dragon watching over it. What would you have to do to get that coin back? That¡¯s an actual question by the way. I¡¯m asking you to think about it for a second.¡±

    ¡°Well, I guess I¡¯d send in something that can either kill dragons, or has no reason be afraid of-...Oh...So that¡¯s old man¡¯s play. Why didn¡¯t start from there Jiro? Are you trying to so dissension within the family? Tut-tut, that¡¯s not very nice you know...¡±

    Jiro didn¡¯t after finishing the custard and letting himself be pumped for information he decided he had better things to do.

    The only reason he¡¯d allowed himself to be pumped for information in the first place was because he and his Lord father knew that Vivian McBriar, was both the biggest snoop and the biggest gossip in the entire family. She also kept terrible company.

    So long as she knew something, all the more troublesome members of the clan would know what he¡¯d said, and know to stay out of it if they¡¯d didn¡¯t want to draw the ire of both the old man, and all the more reasonable members of the family.

 34: A Filial Childs Troubles Pt.3

    He did it again. He did it to her, again. Vanessa almost couldn¡¯t believe it. She¡¯d outright thought he was joking when he told her about his little gift, during the coerced luncheon.

    Merely giving her a little land and a little money had been enough to almost get her killed. When he said he intended to make her a princess by bestowing to her the special royal dispensation that the father of the kingdom¡¯s current king had bestowed to him, she¡¯d believed that he¡¯d understood how much trouble that could cause her, and understand why she''d need to reject such...generosity.

    Everyone knew that the old Count was crazy but never stupid, thus she was justified in expecting the man to use his reason and leave her be.

    Even though she was no longer in a position where she¡¯d have to fear for her and her family''s thanks to the rise of both and her family¡¯s strengths, she still didn¡¯t want to play with such calamity. She had no need for inherited wealth, and the status she had was good enough as it was, she neither needed nor wanted more.

    Still, he did it anyway. He said,

    ¡°I¡¯m going to make a you into a Prince...well in your case a princess...How would you like that? ¡± said Hunfred

    ¡°No thank you? No thank you, very much, please.¡± said Vanessa.

    She¡¯d promptly but politely declined, and he¡¯d responded to her declining by insisting. Or rather than calling it insistence, it might be better to say that he responded by conveniently seeming to go deaf.

    Playing the part of a kindly old man. Nodding at her words while pushing things along his way. While she perhaps in error, gently tried to push back. Not doing anything rash like forcing her way out of the Count¡¯s manor, or just teleporting out, because for various reasons she was still hesitant to do anything that might force her family¡¯s hand

    Even during the subsequent trip to Alcide the nation¡¯s capital she¡¯d still been entirely skeptical of what exactly was happening. Simply going along with things because the old man seemed determined to have her go, and she didn¡¯t want to cause trouble for the vis-Oddmunds, the people she actually considered family.

    She¡¯d even still been in doubt a day after the month long commute by wagon and ship, finished, still doubting as she was guided out of the posh guest room of Count¡¯s manor in Alcide and taken to a parlor where servants apply makeup to her face, perfumes to her body, and clad her silks and jewelry.

    Primping and pinching things till she looked the part that she was intended to play. Violet lipped, her blue skin glowing, her hair piled high on top of her head, cascading off her shoulders in rococo swirls. She was dressed in an aesthetically pleasing, but highly uncomfortable, bustle-backed, olive colored, gown.Her shoulders cover in a cloak that bore the family¡¯s coat of arms.

    The day after the day that she¡¯d arrived in the Palmas kingdom¡¯s capital, Alcide, was the day of her grand debut.

    Vanessa¡¯s head was still spinning, trying to figure out how the man had talked into travelling with him for more than a month, to put her in a position that she very much wanted nothing to do with, she was even more befuddled and lost when she had to add the question how the old man was able to arrange a grand ball for her to introduce herself to the kingdom¡¯s high society.

    At the time, she was too swept up in the old man¡¯s pace, and too preoccupied with trying to remember the etiquette lessons she¡¯d had taken back when she was younger, trying not to embarrass herself. Too busy with dancing, and introductions to question how quickly everything was moving, and how it all stank to high heavens with the stench of a set up.

    It was only later, after the ball was over and the king¡¯s men arrived to not only introduce themselves, but to carry her away on charges of high treason that she¡¯d apparently inherited along with the title, that she realized that there was a great deal that didn¡¯t add up about the situation she¡¯d found herself in.

    Her biological father¡¯s good intentions seemed to have bought her even more trouble than last time.

    She spent a week in a cell that was more like a hotel room, waiting to know if she was going to end up becoming an enemy of the state or not. Quietly reassuring herself with happy thoughts, like the realization that if she so chose, or if things couldn¡¯t be sorted out in the proper fashion, she could be teleport out and be free at any time.

    The only thing that kept her waiting in the cell playing the part of a good little prisoner was her desire to not implicate her family. The vis-Oddmunds. Making a kingdom lose face was a great way to have people trying to wipe out one¡¯s nine generations. Even if the Palmas kingdom wouldn¡¯t actually succeed in such an endeavour it didn¡¯t mean that she wanted to risk having them try.

    Besides that matter, having had some time to calm down a little in the absence of the old man and his odd sense-numbing atmosphere, she was realizing that she¡¯d been given quite the run around. Moved into position like a chess piece before she even knew what was going on.

    Support the creativity of authors by visiting Royal Road for this novel and more.

    Thus she was trusting that someway or the other the old man had planned for this scenario as well, if it wasn¡¯t part of his plan to begin with. Meaning that an attempt to escape would only complicate things.

    The days passed and eventually the anxiety gave way to painful sort of boredom. She needed to focus on something else. Anything else. Unfortunately, the only thing she had to read, was a treatise.

    A heretical treatise that someone had left hidden inside one of the pillows of the cell. A thick, politically radical tome that ¡°briefly¡± filled her in on the history of kingdom from the past to the past.

    One key thing that kept being pointed out, was a need for all the high lords of the kingdom to vote on matters of importance. Important matters like whether or not the kingdom should capitulate on certain issues with its neighbors to the north, the Helios Empire.

    The same Empire which served as the only other nation with the power to potentially dominate the continent, besides the kingdom. Towering over its peers, as the people kingdom of Palmas towered over theirs.

    An empire that had been at the Kingdom¡¯s throat since both nations were founded. With the empire whittling away at the kingdom¡¯s strength by goading Palmas¡¯ decadent nobility into getting fat and weak, and tricking the paranoid and arrogant royal family into tearing down its strongest supporters, supporters like the fallen, Oedheim clan.

    Vanessa read, and she read and she read some more, finishing all nine thousand pages, of the massive tome, in a single night. Barely noticing that some parts of the book had been earmarked. As if she¡¯d not been supposed to read the entire book.

    She scowled as she read through the chapters concerning the Palmas family, the royal line of the kingdom¡¯s, treatment of the older more powerful clans of the kingdom.

    Hating the royal family¡¯s tendency of cooking its loyal ¡°hunting hounds¡± after all the proverbial rabbits and foxes had been rounded up.

    All nations were built on bones, but if the book could be trusted, when it came to the Palmas kingdom, and the kingdom¡¯s strongest defenders and protectors, it seemed that a great number of those buried beneath this land had been put there by the kingdom itself. Arrested and executed on various trumped up charges, once their usefulness was over.

    Van sat there reading. Hating the book because it was giving her thoughts that she didn¡¯t want, filling her in on some very likely possibilities of what the old man was trying to do. Assuming that all the old man had planned for her to find the book somehow, knowing what her reception in the Capital would be like.

    Then came the day of the trial, where she found herself chilled and uncertain, not so much worried about herself, because somehow she felt she would be fine, but worried about what this would mean for her family.

    When the old man came and saved her, she wasn¡¯t surprised, or shocked, or stunned, or at all thankful. There was no point in clapping when an old dog pulls off a trick that it taught itself.

    He got her out of court and then they rode back to the manor, her manor...in silence.

    Finally just as she was about to get out of the carriage he spoke.

    ¡°So what did you think of the reading material I had a friend bring in for you? I figured you¡¯d be bored being in there all by yourself...¡±

    ¡°....¡± she didn¡¯t didn¡¯t answer him.

    First she wanted to take a proper shower, then she wanted to finally go and sleep in her own bed. Then she had some thinking to do. A lot of thinking, which would be followed with a discussion with her family, her actual family, not some mad old schmer and his equally mad children...With the discussion to be followed by yet more thinking.

    Finding herself with neither the temper nor the energy to spend time chatting with the infuriating old man, no matter how badly he wanted to try and feel her out after her rough seven night stay in the kingdom¡¯s tower-dungeons, Van simply strode into the manor, eyes glowing, brow furrowed. Looking more vexed than she¡¯d ever been in her life.

    She thanked her Lord Father for his aid, and good intentions, and this time paid no heed to politeness when she bade him good night and had him make his exit.

    Leaving the man standing in the manor¡¯s main hall staring dully at nothing, eyes wide, with a faint ghost of smile on his face.

    ¡°Nh, She¡¯s got her mother¡¯s fire in her, all right¡­She might just survive this.¡±

 35: Sect Elder

    Radha Suresh, Sect Head of Harta¡¯s branch of the Radiant Orrichalcum Gardens sat with his head in his hands. His thin gray fingers rubbing his temples. His essence scrawled glasses lay on the table. Leaving the eyeless old man blind.

    Radha Suresh was a half-breed, a not uncommon trait in Embla. He was half jotun, half-monstrum. Gray skinned, goat horned, with a little fur on his ears and a long scaly, ox''s tail poking out from behind his robes.

    It had been somewhat of a hard week for the Sect Head. Good news and bad news had abounded. Piling up on his desks till the legs began to creak.

    On the part of the good news, he¡¯d just gotten a report that one of his sect¡¯s members had discovered a breed of glass-petalled flower that was as potent in purifying and amplifying essence as certain ultra-rare, top class, medicinal herbs were, and yet was as prolific as certain common medicinal grasses.

    An amazing find, that if properly capitalized upon could easily alter the field of alchemy and cultivator medicines in Embla forever and push the Radiant Orrichalcum Gardens to the top as a resource acquisition and trade sect.

    Sect Head Suresh would have been over the moon and doing backflips in joy, were it not for his aged, his dignity as a sect head, and the ill news that had come overshadowing this discovery.

    The first of the bad news arrived, carried by the Sect¡¯s informants and agents beyond the continent. One of the great sects from overseas was thinking of moving in and staking claims over Hartan territory.

    When it came to power and politics having an outside element come in to try and take a piece of the pie, was never a good thing. There was only so much ¡°pie¡± to go around, having someone else take a slice meant that others who¡¯d already been there would have some of their own claims and stakes infringed on. Which meant there¡¯d be a lot of jostling about, and figurative elbowing, as the various factions and powers fought to keep what was theirs¡­.theirs.

    A period of strife that others who were savvier and more cutthroat would no doubt use to try and snatch bigger slices, of territory and influence, than they¡¯d originally had.

    In other words, there was a very real chance that sometime in the near future the sects and powers of Harta would be at each other''s throats. At the very worst a cultivator-war would take place, one that would include every man and woman on the continent. Likely becoming accompanied by a war amongst the mortal nations.

    Suresh was already seeing signs of it in the missives and communiques he¡¯d gotten from the sects within the South-Harta Alliance. The Sect Heads of Iron-Blood Kings and the Courts of Steel and Amber had agreed that no matter what happened their faction would stay united, as was often the case, it was less what they said, and more how they said it that had Sect Head Suresh concerned.

    The way he saw it, he could probably trust the Iron-Blood Kings to honor their bond if only because their warrior mentality would never allow them to give ground as others tried to encroach on their claims.

    The Courts of Steel and Amber would be the biggest concern as they were really more a group of sects than a single unified sect, and therefor more fractious as a consequence. Helena Windking, their Sect Head, had more or less stated it as such. Stating that so long as she still had a say in the decision, the sect would stay the course. Which was as much blackmail, as it was a promise.

    Not that Suresh could judge her for it, they all had to watch out themselves, the first recourse an invasive power always took when stepping into new territory was to cause division and strife within the resident powers. A case of literary theft: this tale is not rightfully on Amazon; if you see it, report the violation.

    In real life, unlike in chess, the best way to capture an enemy king was to have his own court do the capturing.

    From now on Suresh would have to keep a closer eye on the elders and senior disciples of his sect to make certain that any interactions, that they may or may not have with the newcomers were innocent in nature. Lest he look away one day and he wake up the following morning to find himself surrounded by enemies, with a knife sinking into his back.

    Speaking of which, the Sect Head had another headache on his hands to deal with. Several of the elders had come to him, speaking of nominating one of the Sect¡¯s senior-most disciples for Eldership.

    Which on paper seemed perfectly natural, until his personal aides looked into things and discovered the aforementioned disciple, was still only just now, entering his twenties and had been in the outer-sect little more than a year ago.

    It was one thing to accept the strange but promising youth¡¯s, many, many oddities, when there wasn¡¯t a plot to undermine the sects underfoot but now things were a little more serious.

    If the youth hadn¡¯t had a backer so profoundly dangerous that even Sect Head Suresh was cautious of him, perhaps he would have simply gotten rid of the young jotun and quelled the possible threat that way. As it was, now Suresh had been forced to send people to take a second look into the youth¡¯s background to make sure he wasn¡¯t the first ground troop for whatever the foreign sect was planning.

    The Results of the investigation proved to be almost troublingly bland, the youth was a farm boy from the middle of nowhere. His family was mostly made up of military folk, farmers, and traders.

    There was something in the report that the sect¡¯s people wrote up, about a fallen Oedheim clan that was wiped out by the joint scheming of the Palmas Kingdom and the Helios Empire that ruled the mortals in the northern part of the continent.

    However, all that was mortal history, and old history at that, nothing that drew the Sect Head¡¯s eye. The report as a whole was clean, too clean, a simple background that was thoroughly incongruous with the performance of the youth in mention.

    The same youth who was responsible for the discovery the groundbreaking breed of glass-pettalled flower.

    Searching for dirt and finding freshly fallen snow instead, was a discomfiting thing. The boy¡¯s successes couldn¡¯t all be explained by the intervention and tutorship of his master. As a teacher of several famous students himself, Radha Suresh refused to believe that such a thing was possible, because if it were so it would mean the youth was some manner of monster, something that went beyond the realm of genius and into the realm of the abominable.

    Yet, it seemed that this was exactly the case. They had testimony of people finding the boy odd, but mundane, up till the moment of his debut in the tournament in Vignale. So if he was a plant, he was a deep plant, one that had been kept under wraps for quite some time.

    The only thing that eased the Sect Head¡¯s suspicions was the boy¡¯s master, who¡¯d exhibited a level of power that made such circuitous scheming seem unlikely, making Suresh feel that it was possible that if the boy was at the center of a plot, it probably wasn¡¯t a plot against the sect. They were possibly being used for something, or made into a cover or smokescreen for the boy¡¯s later actions, but they weren¡¯t the target of whatever his aims were.

    Or so...the Sect Head hoped.

    Now, recently, while he was doing all this thinking, yet another report came in, explaining the sudden rush of support from the Sect Elders. Where it was revealed that their reasons for nominating the youth into the position of Elder, was for the sake of saving their faces.

    According to the report, the youth had been tutoring the Elder¡¯s personal disciples in profound arts, both magical and martial. Profound enough that even the Elders were finding themselves drawn to the tutorship sessions. Watching from a distance and taking discrete notes.

    A youth barely two decades in age was teaching century old masters, and it seemed they wanted him promoted so they could, ask him questions about some of the things he¡¯d been expounded upon in person, rather than sending their disciples to do it.

    After hearing this the old Sect Head nearly flipped over a table. While he was still unsure of the youth¡¯s origins or intentions, he knew that regardless of who he was and where he came, he was far too young to be placed in the position of Sect Elder. Especially not as an Elder of the Core Sect, since he¡¯d already become a disciple of the Core Sect and had already climbed to the middle-ranks of the sect¡¯s core-circle.

    Yet the other elders kept asking, their persistence making the old Sect Head feeling like splitting someone¡¯s head open, even if it was his own.

    ¡°You old foxes and weasels. Face? You¡¯re actually worried about face? What do you call this then? You¡¯re willing to let someone several decades your junior stand as an equal so that it¡¯s less shameful to go to him for guidance...tch.¡± he grumbled to himself, still nursing his terrible headache. Concentrating on using essence to calm the turbulence within his circulation.

 36: Stateswoman

    ¡°Madame Oedheim, do you have anything to say?¡± said the High Representative Klaus, head of the Palmas Kingdom¡¯s house of lords.

    ¡°...¡± Vanessa looked up from the book that she¡¯d been reading, whilst only half paying attention to the bluff and bluster of the aged elites that currently surrounded her on all sides.

    After begrudgingly taking on the role of princess she was now properly begun fulfilling the role of a member of the kingdom¡¯s legislative body. Voting as she needed to vote, using the McBriar clan¡¯s five vote weight, to forestall the powers that would otherwise be able to allow the imperial house of Helios run roughshod over them all.

    She put her book aside, stood and cleared her throat.

    ¡°Ahem¡­.I have nothing to add.¡± said Van.

    Then she sat back down again. Picked up her book, and resumed reading.

    An additional threes hour more of dull talk would need to go by before the council members were allowed to actually vote.

    She¡¯d pass her vote, in opposition to a certain trade deal, that certain persons in the kingdom had been trying their damndest to make happen, and feel a mixture of piercing and appreciative stares in her direction.

    Only once bothering to look up, before dismissing the room and returning her attention to her book. Thus she made the first vote of many that she¡¯d make to make a pain of herself to her family¡¯s enemies.

    *****

    On Monday they tried to blow her up. Placing a bomb beneath her carriage that went off whilst she was about to leave her manor in the morning.

    On Tuesday they tried to poison her. Placing a rare and supposedly incurable poison in her tea during a visit with one of the so-called friendly parties that the good Lord Hunfred had said she should make herself acquainted with.

    On Wednesday they tried to curse her to death, calling a small, and surprisingly, flavorful, electrical storm that left her soaked, but oddly refreshed, and awakened to the realization that she could eat or absorb fire, lightning and other forms of raw power. Which was yet another thing that she felt that Edwin probably should have made her aware of.

    Unless he did, and she just hadn¡¯t been taking him seriously at the time. Something that happened less often as she grew more aware of just how outlandish the man¡¯s capabilities actually were.

    On thursday, they attempted a kidnapping, which in her opinion should have probably at least come before they attempted all that other stuff.

    Life in the capital was a tedious, troublesome affair, and at many points during the week after her release from the royal dungeon, Vanessa questioned why she didn¡¯t just go home. The people were snobs, the ladies and men were all needlessly catty, and every single interaction was some kind of pointless power play.

    Her parents even said that things for them probably be okay if she just went home. It would possibly mean they¡¯d have to end some of their plans and hasten a few others, but they could manage if they had to.

    The one thing that life in the capital wasn¡¯t, despite all its attempts to prove otherwise, was dangerous.

    To begin with, her parents wouldn¡¯t have let her go if they thought she was in any danger whatsoever, whether it was personal strength or due to her status, the only thing that the people of the capital could hurt were her feelings. Though she was loath to admit that they were actually doing a fairly adept job of that.

    The vis-Oddmunds had said, that if she so chose, she could give up her attempt to deal with the unknown enemies that had brought down their parent clan, and simply come home.

    Even if the Count decided to try and make things difficult for them he couldn¡¯t physically lay hands on them, or threaten their lives, which meant there was no reason they couldn¡¯t just pack up their things and move on if things got tough. Better yet they could call Edwin and have him take them elsewhere to settle down again.Unauthorized tale usage: if you spot this story on Amazon, report the violation.

    Even if the Kingdom was planning to give way to the empire that had helped destroy the Oedheim clan, and could very well make an attempt to wipe out the Oddmund clan and its branch family¡¯s they, the vis-Oddmund would likely be safe, even if those enemies were persistent in their murderous endeavours, and could likely protect a few others who were within their reach.

    However she¡¯d decided to stay anyway, because if one could handle something before it became a more unmanageable issue she believed it was best to try.

    After all, she had nothing to lose by trying, which she knew was part of why her ever pragmatic...lord father...had pulled her into this mess. They couldn¡¯t kill her, there was nothing to use to blackmail her with, she wasn¡¯t working for anyone but herself. Her only stake in the fight that these old money elites were having amongst themselves, was a desire to head off and or get a better view of a force that could potentially serve as a threat to her family.

    She¡¯d known it, as soon as he pushed the position onto her, that something of that sort was what was afoot. It was the same nonsense she¡¯d used to do to her own siblings, and she was less than amused to find her sire, playing the same trick, getting up to mischief and then pulling in someone else who really couldn¡¯t be effected to use as a shield.

    Her father and her brother Wallace, had guessed something similar as soon as she¡¯d told him what the old man had done. Wallace in particular had guessed that the old man wanted something since he¡¯d mostly kept his distance before. Even sending his congratulatory wedding gifts through the McBrian clan¡¯s servants, rather than making any real attempt to see her in person.

    She on the other hand, had been, sort of, kind of, hopeful, that the old man would show some conscience and leave her out of whatever he was planning, but had gone along, knowing herself and knowing the old man enough to understand that whatever means he¡¯d have to pull her in and make her go along with his madness, beyond his troublesome persistence, would probably include her family¡¯s welfare somehow.

    In other words she¡¯d gone there, almost knowing what would happen, before it¡¯d happened. It was the same way one knows one will likely be struck in a fist fight, before the actual fistfight happens. Or how someone in a terrible relationship might ardently, but futilely wish, that the other person would stop sucking quite so much.

    She very much hadn¡¯t wanted it to happen, and had resisted as much as seemed reasonable to her, but it was essentially just giving in to the inevitable. Her birth-father was like smoke, and where he was, there was always some manner of blaze to be worried about.

    She¡¯d lived in the McBriar household for long enough to know how her father worked, and she was well read enough to know continent¡¯s nations were run.

    The only reason the Count would want to speak to Vanessa in person was if he wanted something. The only way he¡¯d think he could get her to give him what he wanted was if he could get her to suspect it was some how in her own interests.

    Hunfred couldn¡¯t hurt her, and even the king would be hard pressed to touch her, which was why the family let her, which she was to be McBriars¡¯ new princess. She was the only one who could inherit the title and survive.

    She was the wife of an inner-sect member of one of the three greatest sects in the region, her family now personally held a fair amount of the secular strength within the kingdom by sheer virtue of the physical improvements brought to them by the elements that now flowed through their bloodstreams.

    In other words, she was an untouchable, uncapturable, unbreakable pawn. Perfect for his purposes. Vanessa was playing nice because it¡¯d be inconvenient for herself, and her family, for her to do otherwise.

    As he parents said, they and her brother-in-laws could probably manage if she didn¡¯t comply but it would interrupt many of their plans and lead to several consequences and hardships that she would rather not inflict on them. The vis-Oddmunds weren¡¯t quite ready to leave Otmar county and the Palmas kingdom yet, and considering that she had nothing to lose except for time, and that it seemed to be in their own interests for her to play the part of a willing pawn, she¡¯d stayed.

    As a result she now had actual first-hand proof that she bore a constitution so stalwart that only part of being blown up by that essence-crystal bomb that had actual disturbed her was the damage it had done to her dress.

    An invisible kinetic shield appearing at the moment of the blast and absorbing enough of its energy to keep the horses, carriage driver, and nearby bystanders from suffering anything more than a bad fright.

    Which was why she still continued to stay put, if arrows, spells, and blades couldn¡¯t hurt you, it was best to deal with one¡¯s foes before they went back to the drawing board and brought out something bigger.

    It might not have mattered in any other case, or in any other instance, or with any other foe, but in this case, in this one instance, with this one foe, her due diligence was necessary. The Empire was no danger to the Van and her family, but behind them lay the real threat.

    The faceless enemy that the Oddmund clan purposely forgot in the hope that the favor would be returned. A threat that even with all the power that Van and her family had gain, might well still be far stronger than they were prepared to handle.

    While the Empire and the Kingdom were the hands that were used to tear down the Oedheim clan, the head that gave orders belonged to divines, immortal gods of Embla. An unknown ancient power that presided over the cultivator world, that the family wasn¡¯t quite ready to meet head own.

    Which was why Van had decided to take one for the team, so to speak.

    In between the various tea times, and evening dinners that she had to sit through, pretending to play nice with personalities on either side of Alcide¡¯s political landscape, she¡¯d been able to glean that something big was indeed happening.

    The earth was trembling, shifting in a way that suggested that the heavens might be making moves as well. People spoke in innuendo, and made references to friends and masters whose mere names were enough to make the great lords shiver in fear and anticipation.

    The old man wasn¡¯t just full of hot air. Their more enemies were getting desperate, to try anything to remove her from the board, which made her dig her heels in even more. Anxious and angry when she considered how little she knew about their immortal enemy.

    She wasn¡¯t sure how far she was going to take this, but she was fairly certain that she probably shouldn¡¯t leave until she at least had a proper understanding of the threat that lay just beyond the horizon.

    In the meanwhile she¡¯d been calling Edwin and filling him in, having him see if there was anything that they could do, should the family end up butting heads with literal deities. She found it both comforting and discomforting, when he answered to the affirmative, implying that he had many weapons that he could put to use, should the family have to go to war with a number of Embla¡¯s gods.

 37: Lights From The Sky

    They descended from beyond the clouds, seemingly benevolent halos of blue-white light. Columns of benign radiance that continued seeming to be so, humming a soothing, slightly eerie tune, till a good fifteen seconds after they were gone, and the world slowly awoke from its stupor and realized that certain things that had gone missing and everything else seemed to be a little on fire.

    This was a worldwide event. A phenomenon involving nearly all of the planet of Embla, but the only one¡¯s with any real inkling of what had happened, were a young woman in Alcide, the capital city of Palmas, her family in Otmar, and her husband who was elsewhere, preoccupied with sect matters.

    Vanessa Oedheim, current honorary Palmas Princess of Wind and Storm, current member of the royal council of Lords, stood on the balcony of her manse. She had a large bottle of brandy in hand and ignoring the glass that sat on the table beside her, she took a deep drought straight from the bottle and grimaced at the taste.

    The warmth entered her stomach which currently felt as if it were filled with ice and then abruptly disappearing, not even giving her a ghost of inebriation. Which left her feeling sorely disappointed, as this was the exact kind of moment in which many people would very much like to take refuge in alcoholic oblivion.

    ¡°Well¡­...fuck!. Maybe I did overreact just a little bit there¡­¡± said Van. Staring out into the night, looking in the direct where a proud tower once stood, but was now absent. Absent like many other such buildings, buildings that had been both obvious and inconspicuous in design. All of them having gone missing. Leaving no rubble, leaving only cleanly anesthetized holes in the earth, with the walls and floors of those holes covered in a smooth glass finish.

    Vanessa Oedheim, of the Vis-Oddmunds and the McBriars, took another sip from the bottle she was holding.

    Van had lost her cool and now here she was, looking at a counter on a holographic display that hovered in front of her face. The display more or less confirming that her genetically inherited failure to breathe a little more deeply and take some time to think about her decisions had come with a terrifyingly high body count.

    It wasn¡¯t entirely her fault, it was more of a snowballing effect. She¡¯d been living in the capital for a few weeks now, and for almost every day that she¡¯d been there, there had been an attempt on her life.

    She¡¯d put up with it, because they¡¯d all been largely ineffectual. It was like being in a bee suit and being attacked by a swarm of the yellow insects. Like being bitten to death by mosquitos on a hot summer day.

    She wasn¡¯t really seriously affected by what her inherited enemies did. She¡¯d go to the market and be attacked. She¡¯d take in a show and being attacked. She¡¯d visit a political frenemy, and once again, be attacked.

    Rarely suffering anything more dramatic than a few slightly embarrassing wardrobe malfunctions.

    On some days, it reached a point of mundanity where she planned for the eventual attack on her person, like one would plan for the weather.

    On other days it was an annoyance and an embarrassment because, despite all their failures the other side didn¡¯t really seem to be giving up. And the people around her were starting to become wary and wearied because she was pretty much gaining a reputation as humanoid disaster area.

    A walking talking target that would eventually either have explosions, or poisonous smogs, or dangerous knife and crossbow wielding cultivators, appearing in her midst.

    On the day she finally lost her patience she actually managed to capture one of the fellows alive. Her martial arts were perhaps slightly below average, but her physical specs, her speed, strength, reflexes, perception, and data processing abilities, were so high that it wasn¡¯t hard for her to go toe to toe against grandmasters. Especially when their cultivations were relatively mediocre.

    She caught one of her assailants and asked him why they and their employer were so dead set in attacking, and why they were so willing to throw away their lives.

    ¡°Daughter of the madman.¡± he¡¯d said, whilst gasping his last breath. ¡°The sons of the Golden-Shadow cannot and will not rest till they have regained their honor.¡±

    A strange turn of phrase which took her a few minutes to parse.

    She kept him alive just long enough to exact an explanation for his explanation and was informed that the group, whoever they were, were no longer being paid for all those attempts on her life. Royal Road is the home of this novel. Visit there to read the original and support the author.

    No, right now, they were doing this for free. Spending all those lives for free. Inconveniencing her...for free.

    Which was probably the point where she lost her cool, though she wouldn¡¯t know it till later that evening.

    It was the kind the stupid thing that made people mad to try and contemplate, making so little sense that it either inspired fear or rage, or both.

    As the wife of warrior of a cultivator-sect, as the sister of a former mercenary, now turned into a mercenary troop founder, she could understand and respect, the idea of work that dealt with blades and blood.

    What she couldn¡¯t understand was idea of taking the job personal, if one is hired to kill, then kill, and if one fails that just the way of things, but taking it personal, as if the target had wronged you by failing to die was...baffling. Stupid in the kind of way that lingers in the back of one¡¯s mind and kind of festers for a bit.

    Before she was in a bee suit, surrounded by bees, but it felt like her suit had gotten torn somewhere, or that the bees had somehow found a way in, and she was just repeatedly being pricked. She¡¯d reached that part of a summer¡¯s day where one had been bitten by enough mosquitoes to be okay with eradicating the entire species, regardless of any ecological consequence.

    And that was...exactly what she did.

    It was shockingly, frighteningly, easy. Her ship had taken recordings, and scans of every instance in which she¡¯d been attacked. And supposedly secret clandestine groups, tended to be fond of little markers and tattoos that only they would be to notice and verify, but the rest of the world would just think of as innocuous body art or birthmarks.

    Add to this a certain genetic similarity and the fact that the members of the group of assassins tended to share a peculiar body chemistry and the ship had no problem picking them out from the crowd. Which made Van wish, she¡¯d A) thought of preemptively looking for her attackers beforehand, and B)had enough trustworthy political allies to be able to round up the assassins and their associates after she¡¯d found them.

    Unfortunately, a number of them were either hidden within the auspices of certain powers within the city or hidden amongst the people, and trying to round the hidden killers up would have meant giving away a fair number of her secrets.

    A realization that only served to further frustrate the woman. Pushing her reasoning past that last point of no return.

    She might not have done what she¡¯d done, had she not been hopping mad by the time she¡¯d gotten home, and had a second group of assassins not tried to a second attempt her life on the way to her mansion.

    Unfortunately that second attack was a fact, and her mood when she arrived at her home was foul on a level, that left her looking, positively serene despite the murderous aura that was leaking out of her shadow.

    Stormy enough that the servants at the manse, who still remembered when her lord father had been in similar moods, fled for cover as soon as they¡¯d done their duties. Leaving her to fume, and work herself into an increasingly worse pique.

    She¡¯d called her parents, but they were busy with something, and after confirming that she was fine, they hung up saying they¡¯d call her back later.

    Then she called Edwin, who was also busy sitting in the lab in his ship, taking measurements and readings for a new strain of medicinal herbs that he was growing. However he didn¡¯t hang up on her.

    He asked her how her day was, and she told him, that it¡¯d been miserable.

    He stopped doing whatever it was he was doing and asked her why, and she¡¯d explained about the assassins. He asked if she needed his help, but for whatever reason she said no, because in the back of her mind the issue wasn¡¯t quite that serious and she still wanted to keep him as a final line of defense for the family, if she could.

    She asked him, what he¡¯d do, if he had a foe, that wouldn¡¯t quit, and was just tedious to deal with. And he¡¯d blithely responded with, ¡°Extermination.¡±

    ¡°Extermination?¡± she¡¯d said. Echoing the word.

    He repeated to himself, his attention finally starting to drift after she¡¯d repeatedly confirmed she was fine, and was not currently in need of his aid.

    Then he vaguely mentioned that the ship''s offensive suite had special targeting options for just that purpose.

    The conversation wound done from there, and they traded small talk for a bit, before Van finally hung up and ended the call.

    Still fuming, still furious, but also somewhat calmer, and in a more steady mood, less riled and spitting mad, and more perturbed and concerned, she went to go check the ship and its so-called special targeting options.

    Still somewhat incensed and growing slightly more determined in her own mind about the dark things she was contemplating, she reasoned that it would probably be fine for her to act with force, if only just this once.

    The people that her family were feuding with, had no clue as to what she was capable of and would surely not be able to guess, that she was the one responsible for what she was about to do.

    She wasn¡¯t sure what each of the weapons in the suite did, apparently some of the more energy based weapons, could be quite particular. Wiping out a particular target or target groups with pin-point accuracy, wiping structures where the occupants were made up with more than ninety percent of the given target group, while causing next to no damage to surroundings.

    She was a Jotunness of Embla, targeted by a group that seemed to have decided to enter into a life or death grudge with her, when there had been no gratitude and grudges before.

    Her actions had seemed perfectly rational at the time. She¡¯d started changing the settings, using the data from the various assassins that had assailed her as model targets. Then she confirmed the fire order.

    Now an hour later, and ninety million, six hundred fifty three thousand, five hundred ninety-two lives later, she wasn¡¯t quite so sure.

    It was common practice in Embla to end conflicts by destroying one¡¯s enemies as a whole, or at least attempting to do so, as far as one was capable and it was economically feasible, but there were few who¡¯d ever done it with as much completeness as Van had just managed.

    Though they¡¯d been scattered and hidden across the globe, Vanessa Oedheim had just essentially killed a small nation.

    Having unwittingly stepped into the same cutthroat and bloody standing of some of the most ruthless of generals and kings, Van was feeling some pangs of conscience.

    Feeling guilty not because of what she had done, but because, her first thought, after seeing that first resoundingly successful assault, was to feel slightly put out, that her family¡¯s real foes couldn¡¯t be similarly targeted.

 38: Darkness Above

    Up beyond the stars and slightly sideways to the left, was a sub-dimension that served as a heavenly space for the portion of the cosmos that contained Embla and its fellow penal worlds.

    This was the dimension in which the myriad immortal races dwelt. It was home to the fallen gods and immortals of the realm, and the children of those fallen gods and immortals, who now served as the divinity for this closed off portion of a reality.

    Calling themselves the gods of Darkgrand. With Darkgrand being what the higher-tier denizens of this closed off realm called their little slice of the omniverse.

    The People of Embla knew the gods by their colors, the red gods of fire and blood, the blue gods of the oceans and rivers, the green gods who governed health, fertility and growth, the white gods of the clouds and sky, the gray gods who guarded dreams and secret truth, the yellow gods of the sun, bounty and harvest, and black gods who served to guide the souls of the dead on and off the path of rebirth.

    There were billions of them, their numbers amounting to roughly ten percent of the sum of all the lives of all the worlds within the Darkgrand region.

    They lived in radiant, crystalline palaces, on free floating isles made with magic and transcendent technology.

    Some immortals and gods worked for other immortals and gods, others oversaw their mortal dominions. Others worked to steal mortal dominions, some of the gods convincing the populace to convert, other gods directly slaying their immortal peers and subverting the empty thrones for their own use.

    This was a dimension in which great battles were fought and won, and galas, balls and feasts that lasted for centuries were the norm. This was immortal life in Darkgrand.

    A sphere of dark blue-black light streaked through the eternal dusk that made up the sky in Darkgrand¡¯s heavenly realm.

    Generally speaking, deities and higher-leveled immortals could teleport wherever they needed to go within a given realm of the cosmos. It was only in certain areas of high turbulence and areas, where the right of passage was restricted by ruler or owner of the land, that flight became necessary.

    The dark light was headed for one of the many floating palaces of the heavenly realm. When it reached its destination it pierced the wall that surrounded the palace like a heat lance through ice, and impacted against the palace itself with enough force to shake the entire isle that the palace was floating on.

    ************************************************************************************************************

    The palace belonged to a god by the name of Vivek, a trickster god of secrets and truth. It was manned by gray souled divine servants, and guarded by gray souled divine pawns, who patrolled the grounds whilst wearing resplendent plated mail.

    Dougall, a dark god of the depths of the seas stalked through the halls of the palace. Cutting down everything that happened to cross his path, with a blade of water and shadow. His lean blue-black form seeming to way a world¡¯s weight, with the way each step seemed to shake the manse.

    Flakes of rubble drifting down from his broad shoulders like snow off a mountain peak.

    Eventually Dougall found what he sought, he found the master of the house in a sitting room. Entertaining a group of golden gods and goddesses whose dominion was over Askr, one of the other planets of Darkgrand.

    Stolen from its original source, this story is not meant to be on Amazon; report any sightings.

    He kicked open the door and in a voice that was a soft as a mother¡¯s caress and as sharp as a butcher¡¯s blade he said the gray god¡¯s name.

    ¡°Vivek¡­.I do believe we need to talk.¡±

    The gray god stopped mid-conversation frowning at the interruption. He opened to say something rude, but seeing the murderous look in the other deity¡¯s eyes he thought better of it and excused himself, leaving his other guests so he could go and entertain the newcomer.

    *************************************************************************************************************

    Later in a study, Vivek and Dougall stood in front other, one shrinking back, a little wary of the other¡¯s palpable rage and the way the divine aura was boiling off of him, the other stood, leaning forwards arms crossed tightly as if to keep his hands pinned lest he place those hand around the other¡¯s neck.

    ¡°Where are my people Vivek. I leant you the services of my worshippers a century or so ago, on the condition that there worship would not stop, that the most vital of their duties would not be interrupted...now they are gone...So where are they?¡±

    Vivek blinked up at the taller god, and then mentally connected with his personal assistance systems to see what on earth, the strange god of mariners and killers was talking about. Then when he knew the gray god grew even grayer.

    ¡°Sh-, shit...I don¡¯t...This isn¡¯t me, D. You¡¯ve got to believe that. I needed those people, Dougall. My folk are scribes and spies, not killers.¡±

    ¡°This isn¡¯t some trick of yours? Some fine prank, to show off to your friends on the other worlds?¡± said Dougall, sneering. The hostility and skepticism plain on his face.

    Vivek glowered, but purposely ignored the barb.

    ¡°No, you shit. This isn¡¯t that. I don¡¯t know what happened to your people. I didn¡¯t even know your people were gone before you came in asking about them¡­..Look, D. Do you have any clue what might have happened?¡±

    Dougall looked at the gray good in front of him, and considered his words and considered his demeanor. The god was known for his tricks, but Dougall could see a panic there that lead credence to the idea that this wasn¡¯t his doing.

    ¡°I felt them die, and then there was nothing.¡±

    ¡°What did they say, you questioned their spirits right?¡± said Vivek. Leaning in a little for the first time, since he¡¯d lead them both into this office.

    Dougall felt a flare of annoyance and uncertainty, which in turn brought more annoyance.

    ¡°Weren¡¯t you listening, little man. I felt them die and then there was NOTHING. I wouldn¡¯t be here asking you what happened if I¡¯d received there souls. I¡¯d be out getting vengeance on whoever was responsible for this.¡±

    Vivek leaned back, shrinking into himself as he considered various possibilities.

    He thought of various enemies he might have, and various powers that might be wise to the schemes that he and his friends were brewing and felt a mixture of fear and frustration. There were few gods who could just casually scatter or consume that many souls and even less who could do it, in the single instant that his logs had recorded.

    ¡°Shit...SHIT! Look, D, it wasn¡¯t me, but since I was supposed to be helping you look out for your peeps, I can see why you¡¯d think this was my fault. But really all this must just be some big misunderstanding, either that or someone¡¯s trying to place. Just give me some time and I¡¯ll have my people looking into it.¡±

    Dougall narrowed his eyes and glared at the other god, his fingers drifted towards the blade at his back, but eventually he decided against it. His power flared as he abruptly and rudely punched a hole in the spatial-temporal substance of the confines of the palace, opening a portal that would let him walk back home instead of having to fly the many miles he¡¯d flown to make his way here.

    ¡°Okay, Vivek. For whatever reason I¡¯ll believe you, so I¡¯ll give you some time, not a lot of time...but some...but if I find out that you¡¯re lying.¡±

    ¡°And I¡¯m not lying.¡±

    ¡°But if you are.¡± said Dougall.

    ¡°Don¡¯t worry about that.¡± said Vivek. Shaking his head.

    Dougall just harrumphed and stepped through the portal, closing the gateway as he stepped through. After the dark god was gone, Vivek, threw a fit, swearing and cursing the dark god and his people and his ancestors. Swearing and cursing whichever amongst the gods was responsible for the abrupt disappearance Dougall¡¯s scattered nation of worshippers.

    The god of deep waters and dark shadows, was worshipped by a select group of mariners and killers. They were his only worshippers, which meant that the issue was even more serious than they¡¯d seemed.

    Considering that the people had been more like kin to him than supplicants, Dougall wouldn¡¯t let this go and his strength would only be slightly reduced without the presence of his worshippers.

    Which meant Vivek would really need to find out what had happened, if only because he couldn¡¯t afford to have two unpredictable threats interfering as he and his people were on the verge of finally bringing their grand plan to fruition.

 39: Crisis in Harta

    Six weeks had passed since the grand calamity, the lights from the heavens that had reaped millions of lives and set the world of Embla into a panic.

    All the nations of the world were vigilant wary of a second strike, countless forces and personalities were moving in the shadows trying to get down to the bottom of that first strike.

    Nowhere in Embla was this effort to find answers more obvious than in the continent of Harta.

    On a bed, in a bedroom, in a tower in the northern part of the continent sat a middle-aged man who seemed to have to have been fast-forwarded into old age.

    His name was Ghislain vi Helios, and he was the current reigning emperor of the Helios Empire. The tower he was in, was one he commissioned for his beloved wife. One of three he¡¯d made and gifted her after they were affianced.

    True love was a rare thing, and it was even rare in political marriages, but it was present in their relationship, and thus the emperor was grieving.

    His guards stood at attention directly outside the room, and in all the floors below. His attendants were waiting in the main hall of the tower.

    The golden horned, green skinned emperor sat staring at nothing his eyes red and hazy from all the tears he¡¯d wept. In a few minutes he¡¯d clean up, he¡¯d use the restroom and shower that were adjoined to the bathroom to freshen himself up. He¡¯d dress in the spare robes and formal garb he¡¯d brought to makes sure he looked like the sovereign he was supposed to be.

    However, that was all in a few minutes or so, for now, he would just be a man, a man who was hurting. A man who was angry and confused and frustrated, the memory of the pillar of light that all but cut his palace in half and stole away his beloved, forever etched into his memory.

    His wife wasn¡¯t the only one he lost, he lost his second eldest son, and the entirety of her side of the imperial family.

    He¡¯d also lost one sixth of his nation¡¯s secular elites, one eighth of its standing army and one tenth of the civilian citizenry.  For a little bit there he thought he was going to lose his mind, but fortunately for Helios, the emperor was made of sterner stuff than that.

    He and several other powers within and beyond the continent, had spent the last five weeks trying to find desperately trying to find answers.

    All that had been found were mile deep, glassy craters, so of them encompassing entire buildings, others simply taking portions of the buildings and streets.

    Attempts to turn to the divine, seeking the aid of seers and priests had been ineffectual at best and unsettling at worst, or at least this had been the case for people of Helios. Abroad the results of the people''s attempts to seek answers from the gods and immortals were less ominous. Stolen content warning: this tale belongs on Royal Road. Report any occurrences elsewhere.

    With the responses ranging from simple celestial ¡°shrugs¡± and their equivalents, to divine messages that reassured the populace that this ¡°whatever it was¡±  that had befallen the land was at the very least a)probably not likely to happen again, and b)targeted at select group.

    Which had been extrapolated by the various mortal parties that had received these messages as an affirmation that the portion of the population who¡¯d fallen victim to the lights had somehow run afoul of something beyond mortal ken.

    In a world where it wasn¡¯t entirely unreasonable for someone to have their entire family line executed if they somehow managed to piss off a noble, hearing that dramatic disappearance of all those lives was actually due to someone amongst them possibly angering a transcendental existence, it was surprisingly soothing for the populace.

    Suddenly the mystifying and utterly frightening, became frightening but understandable. Reducing the apprehensions of the average person to a tenth of what it had been.

    The only ones who weren¡¯t relaxing at the moment were the people of the Helios empire and those factions and parties within the empire, that had been relying on the Order of Golden-shadow to handle various matters for them.

    They were still panicking, scrambling, still trying to find out whether this unseen enemy would strike at them as well, while they were cleaning up after their fallen allies and trying to keep any  outsiders from stumbling upon the various conspiracies that had involved the families and powers that served as members of the order of the Golden-shadow.

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    Elsewhere while the secular Helios was still trying to pull itself back together yet another conspiracy was unfolding in the cultivator world. Within a courtyard, within a meadow belonging to the Harta Branch of the Sagacious-Night, the most influential sect in northern part of Harta as well as a major power within Harta¡¯s neighbor the continent of Cinead, two elites were meeting.

    The first was a woman, with golden hair and sunflower yellow skin, and a single unicorn horn, that rose from her brow as a jagged spire.

    The second was a man with the eyes and ears of a wolf, his hair dark as a moonless night, his gaze sharper than the blade her wore at his side.

    ¡°Greetings, Brother Sekhar.¡± said the woman.

    ¡°Greetings, Elder Alexandra.¡± said the man.

    They sat across from each other. Each of them careful to stay a certain distance from the other, neither of them daring to look away from the other party¡¯s movements.

    ¡°So... it seems your people and the Golden-Shadow have had a bit of a setback.¡± said Sekhar Hao, an emissary from the main branch of the sect.

    Alexandra Xanthe, sect elder of the Harta-Branch of the sect, had to spend a fair amount of effort to keep her face neutral.

    ¡°If by set back you are talking about the fact the Order of Golden Shadows seems to no longer exist, then yes, brother, there has been something of a set back. No worries, though. While this will mean that our plans for the secular world will have to be put on hold for the moment, our plans in the martial world for this continent¡¯s sects are still well underway.¡±

    The wolfman¡¯s brow rose seemingly slightly skeptical and slightly put out, that he¡¯d been unable to get a reaction from the woman.

    ¡°Mhm...is that so? Very good. I¡¯m sure our esteemed seniors will be pleased to hear that.¡± said Sekhar.

    ¡°Yes. I can imagine.¡± said the woman.

    ¡°Indeed, it¡¯s very good to hear this because the Sect Head Antelmo has sent me, to send word that he intends to see us moving into the next phase of our grand endeavour by the time this year is up.¡± said Sekhar.

    The woman just nodded, giving no hint of any impressions or thoughts she might have had on the matter.

    ¡°Very well, then I shall endeavour to live to our beneficent Head Antelmo''s expectations.¡±

    She saw him off and watched as the wolf man leapt on the back of the winged-shark that brought him to her courtyard and vanished within the clouds. Then she returned to her manse, headed into her office and made a few calls to a few parties to let them know that the situation was a tad more dire than they¡¯d thought.

 40: Not-so Gently Genteel

    Three hours after a certain Princess blew her fuse and effectively condemned an entire nation to physical and spiritual oblivion, she got a call from her brother Egon, who she hadn¡¯t even known had been given one of the power crystals for making calls or filled in on the fact they all had that ability.

    The unicorn haired, solemn faced Jotun eyed his sister giving a her long measuring look.

    ¡°Nhn¡­.¡±

    ¡°W-, what?¡± said Van. Feeling slightly unnerved. If Van had been the one to keep Edwin in line. Egon had been the one to keep her and Wallace in line, and the influence of his disciplinarian, ¡°brotherly love¡± was still very much in effect.

    In other words, Egon was the type who didn¡¯t angry, first he¡¯d get annoyed and then he got ¡°disappointed¡± and would walk off in a huff. From there the sun would hide its face, the clouds would gather, the birds and furry forest animals would flee and things would just be terrible for whoever he was angry at, from then onwards.

    This would be followed by consequences and coincidences that progressively ruined one¡¯s day till either one apologized and was forgiven, or until he decided to let the grudge go on his own.

    It was almost magical really, but also somewhat alarming and the experience of Egon¡¯s anger had left and impression on all three of the youth¡¯s siblings. With all three of them asking their parents whether the boy was or wasn¡¯t actually magic in that regard. With the best answer they could get being that he¡¯d just happened to take after his mother that way.

    Ego shook his head and pulled his hands over the low cut green hair that grew from his scalp like alpha-sprouts.

    ¡°D¡¯you have anything to do with the small force of elites that me and my men were fighting disappearing into pillars of light?¡±

    ¡°Uh¡­.maybe?¡± said Van.

    He sighed and then nodded.

    ¡°Alright. Next time...er...maybe call someone first. We almost lost a few of our guys. Or maybe we didn¡¯t... Eddy¡¯s toys do have a way of avoiding friendly fire which is...nice, I suppose. It still scared the shit out of us though.¡±

    ¡°Er, right¡­.Sorry.¡± said Vanessa.

    From there she¡¯d received similar calls from Wallace, and her parents who were apparently no longer doing whatever they¡¯d been busy with, because the building they¡¯d been about to do it in no longer existed.

    The calls were all of the same nature, not quite censuring her for her rash actions but asking that next time she inform them first before removing an entire faction from the map. Lest they grant strength to their enemies by having the entire world raising arms against them as part of some reflexive fear response. There was a bit of incredulity on her mother¡¯s face as she said this.

    Olivia had worn the same expression she¡¯d worn whilst lecturing her two youngest sons about why they shouldn¡¯t put barn animals on people''s roofs or why it wasn¡¯t  funny to glue people''s home interiors to their ceilings. Mischief one wouldn¡¯t expect two small children to be able to get into but the Wallace and Edwin pair always managed to excel in.

    Finally there was a call from Edwin, who was only calling to ask how things with the precision targeting. At that Vanessa had finally cooled off enough to realize that Edwin probably hadn¡¯t been the best person to go to for advice whilst she¡¯d been at the height of a rage.

    Edwin was what some might call a facilitator, he generally did not censure or attempt to talk people out of things unless it would be physical or fiscally detrimental to them. Instead he gave suggestions for how they might do whatever they were thinking of doing, better, bigger and on a larger scale.

    It was part of the reason why the Wallace and Edwin pair had been something of a menace for the people of Rus, and serious problem for the vis-Oddmund, mother and father, pair. It was also why the vis-Oddmund boys were well liked by the people who knew them. Since Edwin¡¯s ¡°powers¡± and helpful tips could be used for good just as easily as they were used for evil.

    It was like having a devil on one¡¯s shoulder that was highly polite, highly considerate and was honestly just trying to be helpful with what endeavour one was working on, whether it was good or bad.

    Thinking rationally, Van could recognize that if there was any mistake in her actions, the biggest one was calling Edwin, who¡¯d helpfully turned what might have simply been a decision to be a bit more ruthless in dispatching the assassins who came after her, into a decision to commit mass-murder.

    On the one hand, she still didn¡¯t regret her actions, on the other hand, she did regret making the decision in the heat of the moment without giving it any long term thought.

    Even if her reasoning skills were optimized by the elements in her blood and her thought ran whole leagues faster deeper and more logically than that a of typical jotuns, rash decisions were still rash decisions and it was kind of lucky that things turned out as well as they had. This book is hosted on another platform. Read the official version and support the author''s work.

    She now somewhat understood that little joke of Edwin¡¯s. Where he¡¯d make some mistake and after apologizing he¡¯d say:

    ¡°Even being as smart as I am, I¡¯m somehow still an idiot¡­¡±

    *************************************************************************************************************

    Five months passed after the erasure of the order of Golden-shadow and for the kingdom of Palmas after month three, it was mostly just business as usual.

    Though everyone, both in the streets and in the house of legislature, was avoiding directly speaking of the matter, it was growing increasingly clear that the removal of a certain order, and the various guilds, company¡¯s and powers that they¡¯d controlled had changed a fair amount portion of the power balance for the continent.

    Those who¡¯d been paving the way for the Empire and the Kingdom to have closer relations had become somewhat passive.

    Which allowed those who¡¯d espoused policies that would lead to a stronger Palmas, and were resisting any moves that would allow the empire to quietly take control of things as their opponents had planned, a fair bit of more leeway with their activities.

    The neutral powers who¡¯d been watching were starting to take sides, finally the wind was blowing strongly enough for one of the two sides, for the people in the middle to feel safe placing their bets. A fair number of them siding with the anti-alliance/anti-submission group.

    For Vanessa what this meant was a lot of extra teatimes, and dinner dates, and invitations to play cards and to play golf and see shows.

    She socialized with the people on her side and with the people on the neutral side and the people on the opposing side.

    Her time in the kingdom¡¯s legislative council was spent just adding her vote to the heaps of majority votes.

    It was all almost painfully dull, but was also all thankfully uneventful. The end of a certain Order meant the end of the endless assassination attempts. Which meant that things had been looking peaceful enough, and safe enough that soon one of Hunfred¡¯s less socially and physically indestructible children could come in to take over some of the drier portions of the Princess¡¯s duties.

    ************************************************************************************************************

    On one particular evening Vanessa was heading home, the carriage taking her back to her manse after she¡¯d spent the last six hours in the kingdom¡¯s council taking part in a particularly nit-picky and tedious series of votes for what should have been some common sense financial reform.

    She wasn¡¯t particularly looking forward to heading home, her lord-father had sent the first of her future helpers and neither of them was fond of the other.

    Vanessa¡¯s older sister was high handed, snobbish and just simply a pain to deal with. Her unpredictability and distinctly sociopathic qualities would likely make her right at home working in the kingdom¡¯s political world, but for the rest of the people who had to interact with her, it made interacting with the woman a chore.

    What was worse, Van¡¯s big sis Viv also happened to be one of those touchy feely type, who liked to clamber onto people or hug them from behind. And while Vanessa wasn¡¯t against the occasional hug, she wasn¡¯t fond of getting them from those she was substantially sure had been involved in the murder of her mother.

    Thus things in the Princess of Wind and Storms mansion had been decidedly chilly for the last few days.

    With the only upshots being that her honorable father would soon have another place prepared for the woman to stay and after a few more introductions of Viv as her right-hand woman Van would be able to leave the capital for a bit and be largely free of the more tedious parts of her current occupations.

    All this may well have explained why young Vanessa was paying such close attention to the world around her, rather then just sitting occupied with her own thoughts as was the usual trend.

    She¡¯d been trying to distract herself.

    Amidst trying to distract herself, Vanessa caught sight of a gang of horsemen, and martial experts who¡¯d surrounded another carriage that had been going down a road adjacent to theirs.

    Remembering the days that she¡¯d experienced similar trouble and remembering her annoyance at the fact that no one had ever once tried to help her during her plight, even if she¡¯d hardly ever needed it, she asked the driver to stop and alighted from her carriage.

    In the center of the crowd, surrounded by the small mob of cultivators and mercenaries was a young woman with triangular ears atop her head and a lizard''s tail. The girl was a monstrum, her tail giving her away as part of the wyrm-blooded clans. She was dressed in the loose but smartly pressed, formal garb of a sect member.

    Spinning a bo staff as she dispatched her armed opposition one after another.

    Vanessa watched the woman fight, standing a little ways away. Not getting involved immediately because the young woman seemed to have the issue well in hand, and she knew enough about the logistics of fighting that helping unnecessarily could be just as bothersome as not helping at all.

    Vanessa recognized the young woman¡¯s uniform, she seemed to be a core member of one of the South-Harta alliance¡¯s three great sects, a member of the Courts of Steel and Amber.

    The people who the young woman was fighting however, seemed just be wearing the nondescript armor and uniforms of your average assassination squad and group of hired killers.

    Which made Vanessa feel a little more sure of her decision to help, when one side was a friend and the other side was hiding itself, it meant that even if there was something sticky going on, it was unlikely to be borrowing trouble for someone who was technically associated with the person who wasn¡¯t hiding their identity, to render aid.

    At a certain point Vanessa saw the girl¡¯s strength flagging. She¡¯d taken down more than half of the group but her movements were growing less sharp and more sloppy, and while she¡¯d yet to take a serious blow, the light ones that she¡¯d been able to dodge cleanly before were starting to land more often.

    Which was the point were Vanessa decided to step in, swinging her heavily reinforced parasol into the crowd. Her monstrous strength shattering bones and sending bodies flying.

    Between the two of them, Vanessa and the other young woman were able to neatly put an end to the issue. Leaving them as the only one¡¯s standing amidst a circle of broken bodies.

    Still breathing heavily the young sect member cupped her fist and bowed.

    ¡°This one thanks you.¡± said the young woman.

    ¡°Don¡¯t mention it, I¡¯m....¡± said Vanessa proffering her hand.

    ¡°Princess Vanessa Oedheim, I think we met already, my Aunt is the Countess of Bellatrix Bodil.¡±

    Vanessa resisted the blush that she felt rising in her cheeks at the reminder that she only really recalled a tenth of all the people she was forced to meet as part of her duties as a politician. She narrowed her eyes, lifted her chin and smiled, whilst searching that eidetic memory of hers to match a name to the honey colored face in front of her.

    ¡°Ah, I thought you looked familiar. Camilla is it¡­?¡±

    ¡°Yes, my lady. Thank you for your assistance by the way. I¡¯m not entirely certain but I do believe these knaves were sent by an old business associate of my Aunt¡¯s...he always was fond of his practical jokes¡± said the other woman. Delivering a heavy kick to one of the downed assassin and smiling as she did so.

    ¡°Ah, pish...I was just passing by.¡± said Vanessa.

    After exchanging further pleasantries and agreeing to meet for drinks in a certain restaurant that had recently opened was the two parted ways, with Vanessa¡¯s mood having been much improved. She wasn¡¯t sure, but she thought she might have finally made a friend in this city.

 41: Stressors

    Far beyond Embla¡¯s sky was a fleet of small, blue-silver, vessels that drifted through the cosmos hidden beneath a field that blocked all eyes and ears both mortal and divine.

    Occasionally one of the vessels would branch off leaving the wandering armada to either dive into the heart of a star, or submerge themselves within the depths of some gas planet or water world, or land upon the surface of some desolate dwarf planet, asteroid, or lifeless moon.

    They would drift onwards for lightyears, their journey lasting for eons. Each probe would create more probes. Their number eventually superseding that of the stars they¡¯d been sent to inspect.

    The vessel were all tied to a hive intelligence, and each had instructions to taken an in-depth survey of Darkgrand. They also had instruction to collect and gather raw materials that would be sent back to the whale-like mother ships that trailed them from behind, waiting for the day that they collected enough raw materials to go from being ships, to being semi-stationary installations that hung anchored in space, communicating amongst themselves, collecting knowledge and raw materials and sending it back to the prime unit back in Embla, using space-folding technology.

    As for the ¡°prime unit¡± he sat in a courtyard that was about ten times larger than that already fairly expansive courtyard he¡¯d lived and worked in before. Wearing a fixed smile and trying not tear his hair out as he reacquainted himself with the all of the very human sensations that came with being severely stressed.

    That armada he¡¯d set loose was his version of rock garden, something he was doing in a feeble attempt to decompress the building pressure inside his chest.

    It had been a while since Edwin Oedheim last felt stress. Even back when he was a ship, and he had all the gods, demons, angels, spirits and fae of the universe that he¡¯d more or less destroyed, chasing him, he¡¯d not been stressed in the same way that people felt stress. There was fear, there was trepidation, there was an extreme concern about his continued existence, but there¡¯d been no stress.

    There was no grinding his teeth, no feeling like he was flailing and treading water as he tried to complete what was steadily beginning to feel like an undoable task. Being a machine was simpler than being a person. The only time machines had to worry about not succeeding was if they happened to be broken and old ED-108 had been a machine that could not only fix itself, it, he, could improve himself as well.

    Getting smarter, faster, more efficient.

    Had the nemesis race believed in capitalism, Ed-108 would have surely been scrapped for fear of what his mere existence would do to the markets.

    People weren¡¯t like that, Jotun weren¡¯t like that. When jotun ran into challenges that were harder than they could deal with, while some struggled through it and managed to overcome the challenge, many would fail and possibly die.

    Fortunately Edwin, wasn¡¯t an ordinary Jotun. He was someone who had the option of being more like a machine than a man. He was someone who¡¯d once run much of the infrastructure and administration for an entire intergalactic civilization, if the current him was having trouble dealing with a stressful then he simply had to improve himself till he was more than equal to the task.

    *************************************************************************************************************

    To the surprise of Edwin, and several other personages who were secretly reporting to the other sects, Edwin had somehow gotten himself the position of a sect elder. He was even an elder of the sect¡¯s core-circle at that. A fact that galled a few of the people who¡¯d wanted the boy promoted for reasons of self-interest but had never said anything about him getting promoted above them.

    The one responsible for this debacle Sect Head Suresh, currently sat the back of his new Elder¡¯s courtyard questioning his own sanity.

    Ensure your favorite authors get the support they deserve. Read this novel on Royal Road.

    It wasn¡¯t the promotion to Sect Elder he was questioning, Radha Suresh was questioning what happened afterwards.

    It was customary for a new Sect Elder to be put through a sort of trial by fire when they were first promoted. Similar to the Sect Head, the Sect Elders of the Radiant Orrichalcum Gardens reported directly to their parent-sect the Resplendant Orrichalcum Lords which were located over in Lumi, the coldest of Embla¡¯s continents.

    Which meant that they had to be tested, the test entailed a simply dry run where one strove to fulfill ¡°all¡± of the ostensibly unreasonable expectations that fell upon those who got the position of Elder or Sect Head. The intention was for the newly promoted sect member to crash and fall, and learn a vital lesson in humility and relying on ones seniors. With the more experienced elders coming to ¡°save the day¡± and the take over the duties when the younger elder finally ran into a hurdle that they couldn¡¯t overcome.

    The thing was, this was week nine of the Oedheim boy¡¯s test, and he seemed to be doing fine. Better than fine. In an attempt to bring the trial period to an end Sect Head Suresh had even continued adding to the young Elder¡¯s duties. Continuing to pile on more weight and pressure to make the young man collapse.

    Giving the youth more responsibilities and access to privileged information than might have been prudent.

    It had gotten to the point that there were almost no other Sect Elders doing ¡°anything¡± that could defined as routine or non-high priority, and even the Sect Head had relinquished a few day to day duties. Just to make the youngster collapse and teach him a lesson that he seemed to be stubbornly refusing to learn.

    At first the Sect Head and all the other Elders of the sect were wrought thinking the youth was simply being prideful and holding mum. Letting things slide by way side as he tried to do the impossible...but then they looked a little closer and realized to their consternation and surprise, the young man was actually fully fulfilling all the duties that he¡¯d been given. Overseeing sect operations both within the sect grounds and in the broader portions of Harta. He wasn¡¯t just doing as expected. He was exceeding expectations. Innovating. Improving.

    He¡¯d held on so long and so well, that the betting pool that the other senior members of the sect were holding on when the boy would eventually, inevitably, break had risen to an astronomical sum. The Sect Head found himself stuck between a feeling of awe and trepidation.

    On the one hand, what the boy was achieving was impressive. On the other hand, the boy¡¯s achievements were ultimately troublesome as more than a few sect elders who¡¯d normally be tied down by tasks and duties were now running loose, giving in to their repressed eccentricities. That old saying about idle hands wasn¡¯t just a saying, and it didn¡¯t expire just because the hands in mention were centuries old.

    Fortunately, the youth was somehow managing to continue fulfilling the duty that had been the main reason so many of his seniors had called for his promotion.

    By the time Sect Head Suresh had finally given into tall the nominations and vouching, there wasn¡¯t a single talent, including the Sect Head¡¯s own daughter and future heir, that wasn¡¯t being taught by the youth.

    Sect Head Suresh wasn¡¯t sure what to think about the whole issue on the one hand, he was certain the boy was some kind of monster, because only a monster could do the things the boy did and stay sane. On the other hand, preparing for a sect war with the overseas sect that was slowly trying to expand its influence in Harta was almost stupidly easy when one had someone else to worry about the day to day concerns.

 42: Stage Theatre

    Flying on wings made of light-essence, a figure streaked through the sky above a certain corner of the Hartan continent. He was pursued by a swarm of ten or twenty other figures that pursued him. Chasing him up the coastline to a small port town where one of the pursues were finally able to strike the white-winged figure down.

    Using an essence technique to smash him down with enough force to create a crater where he landed.

    The wings of white melted away, returning to being essence as the figure stood, glaring at his surroundings as he

    ¡°Zuzen boyo, it seems you really are an ingrate turning your back on the sect like this.¡± said the Captain of the Radiant Orrichalcum Garden¡¯s Disciplinary Enforcers.

    ¡°Ingrate?...What exactly is it are you suggesting I should be grateful for.¡± sneered Zuzen.

    He squared off against the enforcement team and summoned a blade of light, his aura rising as a turbulent bubble of red and white light that exploded outwards blowing away those members of the sect¡¯s enforcement that drawn too near.

    ¡°Little bastard! Who raised you?! Who groomed you and brought you up to this height that you¡¯ve climbed to?! Now here you are turning your back on the sect!¡± said the enforcement team Captain.

    ¡°Hmph...sophistry. My master is the one who took care of me. And if the sect groomed me, it was out of its own self interest and a desire to have me serve the sect, which I¡¯ve done for decades. Paying what I¡¯ve owed for those few years care. And hear you are chasing me¡­.Don¡¯t you think you people are a bit too greedy? Should I work for you for the rest of my life? Am I a warrior or a slave? This lord refused to be like you lot of dogs and monkeys fetching this and that for the sect, for the rest of my life¡± said Zuzen. This content has been misappropriated from Royal Road; report any instances of this story if found elsewhere.

    The captain of the Enforcement team¡¯s face darkened, he turned his men roaring.

    ¡°Capture him!¡±

    A fight ensued with fists and blades flying, the explosions of aura and force scaring away much of the nearby populace. By the time things had settled down, Zuzen would have escaped a free man. A rogue cultivator. Three of the enforcement team would be dead, their bodies neatly sundered.

    One uninvolved member of the sect who¡¯d ¡°coincidentally¡± happened to be nearby would bear witness of this. In this case it would be a certain Leon Skinner. Who would return to his quarters to make a call to his sect making use of the sect¡¯s new communication artifacts.

    Reporting the incident to one of the sect¡¯s administrative members who would in turn report the matter to sect head Suresh.

    Radha Suresh took the report looked it over and then smiled thinly as he saw more proof that the little plan that he and his council of advisors had come up with to counter the actions of invading sects was working.

    Three months ago, their attempts at pushing back the advances of the Sagacious-Night Sect and their newcomer allies were floundering. One month ago things still weren¡¯t looking good, but now there was a bit of light at the end of the tunnel.

    Now they had a plan, a plan that was all but guaranteed to help the sect survive what was coming, and all they had to do was make it look like they were chasing away their brightest young talents and let loose a few rumors about a few of the older talents dying or retreating from society.

    ¡°Have this sent to Elder Oedheim.¡± said Suresh. Speaking to his personal secretary.

    The man took the folder and bowed, but then instead of retreating towards the door he said.

    ¡°Apologies, Sect Head. Elder Oedheim is currently on leave.¡±

    Suresh startled frowning slightly, wondering whether or not the young man should be required to make leave requests with him directly. The youth¡¯s status and import had grown to a point that was slightly troubling, even this particular eleventh hour play by the sect had been at least partially his idea.

    ¡°Then have it sent to his office then.¡± said Suresh. Sighing.

    ¡°Yes, Sect Head.¡± said the Secretary, bowing again and retreating towards the door.

 43: Temperance

    Jarek vis-Oddmund sat in his study, overlooking the heap of missives, charts, and portfolios on his desk. He glared down at them through his steepled fingers, his tired eyes giving away the years of world weariness and experience that had been erased from the rest of his revitalized personage. Then he leaned back in his chair and stared up the ceiling.

    The door of the study opened up and in walked his wife, literally looking  as beautiful and bright as the day they were wed. They¡¯d been together for decades, but thanks to elements in their blood they now only barely seemed to have marriageable age.

    For them feeling young again was a wonderful thing, it was also a reminder of how quickly things had changed for their family and how they fast they could continue changing in the future, for better or for ill.

    ¡°Are you still brooding over those plans of ours, Jarek?¡± said Olivia.

    ¡°Mhm? Well, kinda...It¡¯s, I don¡¯t know. We¡¯re both warriors, we¡¯ve both fought in the kingdom¡¯s armed forces..We¡¯ve seen how wars are supposed to be fought¡­.and its like at the same time that I know that there¡¯s nothing sacred about warfare...I also can¡¯t shake the feeling that we¡¯re being somewhat wrong here.Going just a few steps too far. War should be men meeting in the battlefield, blade to blade, spell to spell...It shouldn¡¯t just be me sitting in my office, pressing a button.¡± said Jarek.

    Olivia sighed, crossing the room and gently prying her normally jovial husband away from the desk that had been steadily him into a brooding old man for the last year or so.

    ¡°I think you¡¯re overthinking it, love.¡±

    ¡°Overthinking it?¡±

    ¡°Yes¡­.Overthinking it. We¡¯re in this war already. If the Oedheim clan is to ever again...or rather, even if we simply intended to exist without being under constant threat, this conflict was all but inevitable. In which case, a lot of people were going to die anyway, a lot of our people, a lot of their people...People die in wars, love.  We can only pray that the black gods let those deaths be good ones, and let the hereafter be a peaceful one.¡±

    ¡°Mhm¡­¡± said Jarek. Still not sounding fully convinced.

    ¡°Jarek, tell me, how long did you spend trying to figure out how to pull together enough men into our forces. How hard did we all have to work to get those forces trained and fed? How hard did we have to look to find some allies to help us make a strike at just a few of the Order of Golden-Shadow¡¯s bases a few months ago. How long did we have to prepare for that? And How high were our predicted casualties? You remember don¡¯t you?¡±

    Support the author by searching for the original publication of this novel.

    Jarek sighed and finally allowed his wife to extricate him from the desk.

    ¡°You¡¯re right, hon.¡± said Jarek. Turning to give his wife a kiss. She accepted it and then pushed him away. Her bright eyes crinkling at the corners, her nose wrinkling at the odd scent cocktail that the man current wore. A scent made up of sweat, ink, and stale coffee.

    ¡°Of course I am, now go wash up. Dinner¡¯s almost ready, and you¡¯ve been huddling behind that desk o¡¯ yours for the better part of the last three days¡­¡±

    ¡°Yess¡¯m¡± said Jarek, chuckling as he and his wife left the room.

    Though he¡¯d stopped brooding, the wheels in Jarek¡¯s head kept turning. When it came down to it, it seemed silly to spend so much time worrying about the morality of continuing to fight their battles the way they were fighting them now. Good wars were never fair, and the worst wars were those where both sides were equally matched. Leading to a bloody slug match between the two sides.

    It was just that in Jarek¡¯s heart of hearts there sat an idealistic young knight that still felt it a slight betrayal to all that he¡¯d learned, and all that had been drilled into him by his former captains and trainers, to fight his wars with armored mechanical men, and skyborne ships while the other side only had a few cultivators with the power of flight, and absolutely no means of even drawing near to the ships.

    Hidden behind the young knight within Jarek¡¯s heart was a cynical old monster that had appeared within the shadows of Jarek¡¯s heart shortly after Jarek had been injured, and had lost his place amongst the knights.

    Perhaps this voice was the most troublesome of all, because Jarek knew without the mitigating presence of his loving wife and his children it might well have taken him over.

    This voice whispered over the knight¡¯s voice and chided the old knight for his childishness. Telling Jarek all the things he already knew, but with spooky echoey undertones.

    Wars were rarely even matched things. Life was unfair...and if his power would allow him to reign supreme above all of Embla, then that was exactly what he should do.

    Both voices were thankfully faint, compared to that of his own general inner, and a voice that sounded oddly like his wife¡¯s. The same voices that kept him from giving into despair when he was at his lowest, and were currently keeping him from giving into depravity and megalomania, now that he had a fair portion of, if not all of, the world at his fingertips.

    *************************************************************************************************************

    A little later as the evening wore on, the vis-Oddmund¡¯s all found themselves seated around a table together for the first time months. It was hard to say that the vis-Oddmunds had been out of touch with each other, considering how closely they were working together, but it had still been a while since all of them had been home at the same time.

    ¡°Well, this is nice.¡± said Olivia.

    ¡°Nh¡­¡± said Jarek. Grunting in agreement.

    They watched Wallace come in with a certain Patricia Patterson at his side. The two old lovebirds whispering to one another, musing over whether or not the family would soon be hosting another wedding. Egon walked in alone but came carrying a cask of ale from the local drinking house.

    The last two arrive were Edwin and Vanessa who¡¯d met on the walkway. The two looked comfortable with each other, but there was something odd about their atmosphere together.

    The oddity was subtle, but it was enough for Jarek and Oliva to notice and share a look of concern between the two of them.

    Jarek looked at his youngest son¡¯s face and then leaned in towards his wife.

    ¡°Hon, is it me or are his eyes glowing?¡± said Jarek.

    Olivia just shook her head and sighed.

    ¡°Mh, Probably...We¡¯ll ask later, hopefully it¡¯s nothing we need to worry about.¡±  said Olivia.

 44: Totem

    ¡°Uh¡­. Why are your eyes glowing?¡± said Wallace.

    He and Edwin were standing in a porch-like area at the back of the family manse. They, and the rest of the vis-Oddmunds were all back at the house for the weekend. Wallace was heading out, Edwin was heading in. The door opened and then Egon was outside now, and all the vis-Oddmund boys were just staring at each other.

    ¡°So what¡¯s this thing you wanted me to see, Wall- ? Oh, hey Ed, what¡¯s up with your eyes, man?¡± said Egon. Talking to one brother and then the other. A meat-packed bread roll from dinner, in his hand.

    Edwin nodded in response to his brother¡¯s greeting. Wallace was just standing there, still expecting an answer to his question, but after seeing both his brothers turn in his direction, their gaze dull but expectant like rams staring at a sheep-dog he sighed and started walking. Deciding that it¡¯d be best to get things underway before they ended up getting sidetracked.

    ¡°Er, it¡¯s over here. Dad said I should show you and I guess, I¡¯ll show lantern-eyes here too, while I¡¯m at it.¡± said Wallace.

    Wallace lead them towards the back of the house, stopping near the root cellar, which notably enough, was now sealed by an essence-ward. A magical lock that would, violently, repulse any who tried to force their way in.

    Wallace reached into his pocket and pulled out sigil-inscribed essence crystal. Waving it over the ward and making the glowing symbols of the ward, float away from the cellar door.

    Wallace opened the door, grunting slightly out of habit,  though it¡¯d been awhile since he¡¯d actually had to exert himself doing anything.

    He and his brothers walked down into the cellar, closing the doors and the wards behind them.

    ¡°Well...here she is, boys. The long-lost thingamajig that the family¡¯s enemies stole from us after beating the Oedheim name into the dust.¡± said Wallace.

    ¡°It looks sorta like a drill¡­.Like a huge fucking drill¡­.Is this a drill?¡± said Egon.

    ¡°Nope, this is a horn alright., The old writ tends to go on and on about how our forefathers were as tall as mountains and all that jazz. Guess they weren¡¯t fucking joking.¡± said Wallace.

    All three of vis-Oddmund brother¡¯s turned to look at the ten foot tall, five foot wide column of white bone. Staring up at the metal tipped point, at the top of the column and looking down at the spiraling grooves that ran along the column, and the glowing scrawl that covered every inch of the column¡¯s surface. Support the author by searching for the original publication of this novel.

    ¡°Hm...So this is the Oedheim family¡¯s totem?¡± said Egon. Letting out a long whistle.

    ¡°Yep.¡± said Wallace.

    All of Embla¡¯s oldest family¡¯s possessed a totem, an inherited artifact, usually made from the body parts of the family¡¯s Jotunheimr progenitors. Besides the raw essence that radiated from these horns and fangs and claws of titanic beings so mighty that the most the gods could do was seal them away,  the totems almost always held some secret knowledge. Runes, and memories from the ancients that were left behind by the first settlers of Embla.

    In any ordinary time this would be a momentous occasion. The three brother¡¯s would be prostrate in reverence, the remnant of their ancestor¡¯s aura forcing them to their knees. At this point, the family would go to ground. Disappearing from the view of Harta¡¯s powers-that-be, as best they could, while they enlisted researchers from abroad, and called on their  family¡¯s most trustworthy allies so they could take advantage of this rare resource from the past.

    Now though, now, the two eldest boys simply turned to their young, whose eyes glowed just a little brighter, till finally a beam of mercurial-blue light shot out of them. Turning the horn into dust, and leaving naught but a sliver of glowing blue crystal in its place.

    ¡°Shit, dad¡¯s going to be pissed!¡± said Wallace

    ¡°By the gods, Ed! What the actual fuck!¡± said Egon. His body language seeming calmer than his actual language was.

    Edwin picked up the crystal and then sent it into his ship¡¯s inventory for further analysis.

    ¡°Mhm...it¡¯ll probably be fine...probably, I¡¯ve already scanned the whole thing inside and out, and this was the only portion of the horn that looked like it was worth anything.¡± said Edwin.

    ¡°How could you have any time to scan anything? We¡¯ve been here for like two minutes.¡± said Egon.

    Wallace pulled a hand through his hair and then blew out a breath, that turned into a raspberry near the end.

    ¡°Seriously bro, you and that wife of yours...I¡¯m pretty sure we should have...I don¡¯t know...maybe asked first, yeah?¡±

    Edwin blinked and then frowned and then he nodded. He had the ship do a quick analysis of the crystal and print out another, then he had it print out another column of twisted, spiralling, semi-fossilized bone and teleport it into the basement.

    ¡°Better?¡± said Edwin. His brows gathered.

    Wallace looked at the new horn, walking around it to see if it was discernibly different compared to the old one. Then he looked at his younger brother¡¯s casual revelation of yet another capability just ripe for exploitation.

    ¡°Tch, Kind of¡­I think.¡±

    ¡°So, are you gonna tell us why your eyes are glowing or not?¡± said Egon.

    Edwin frowned, blushing slightly. He closed his eyes, rubbing his hands over his face for a bit before opening his eyes again.

    ¡°Are they still glowing now?¡±

    ¡°No- they look...wait no...Nope, now they stopped for a bit now they¡¯re glowing again. I think they might actually be brighter this time.¡± said Wallace.

    ¡°Like the lightbulb in an essence lamp¡­¡± muttered Egon.

    ¡°That¡¯s not gonna happened to us right?¡± said Wallace. Looking a tad concerned.

    ¡°Huh? No, this is...this is something I did by accident¡­.The sect¡¯s got me burning the candle at both ends and I fiddled with a few things inside my head and my ship to make it less of a hardship¡­.unfortunately, that¡¯s resulted in making my eyes glow...I figured its some kind of irradiated waste-product or maybe its something to do with the myelination in the jotnar nervous system¡­¡±

    ¡°Uh-huh...maybe try to fix it before mom can corner you about it. You know how she likes to worry.¡± said Wallace. Ignoring the words that he hadn¡¯t understood and relaxing once he realized it was something his brother had done on purpose.

    ¡°More importantly, can those ships you gave us print stuff like yours can...and could they print like let¡¯s say...a building?¡± said Egon. His normally steady thoughts hurtling towards the solution of a problem he¡¯d been working on for the last few months.

 45: After Dinner Talk

    ¡°It¡¯s an honor to be here, sir.¡± said a famed, fifth-ranked, knight of the Palmas Kingdom. His eyes shining like stars as he shook the hands of his childhood hero.

    ¡°Ah, nah, I¡¯m glad you could make it. Why don¡¯t you go inside and get something to drink?¡± said Jarek. Patting the shoulder of the younger man and pointing him towards the bar.

    ¡°Hon, Why are all these people at our house?¡± said Olivia. Whispering as she stood at her husband''s side, greeting the endless line of guests that entered their family¡¯s compound.

    Jarek shrugged, looking slightly sheepish. Scratching his cheek like a child caught in the middle of making a mess.

    ¡°I might have been somewhat unclear when I was using that ¡°AI secretary¡± that Eddy installed on my ship.¡± he said.

    Olivia sighed and rolled her eyes, whilst keeping a smile on her face for the guests. Her husband was quick enough at understanding all the combat-oriented tech that their son kept introducing, but grasping the administrative bits and lifestyle-focused odds and ends often seemed to escape him.

    The second night of the family get together ended up turning into a proper event and becoming something closer to a large  banquet, a favored down by one of their neighbors led to Jarek extending an invitation.

    One invitation became two invitations and before anyone really knew what had happened on the night of the dinner the had a line of higher guests just waiting to greet them and make their respects.

    The vis-Oddmunds hosted their closest friends and allies for the first portion, they allowed the rest of folk that no one really knew afterwards in afterwards.

    There was a mixture of notable figures from the county and renown figures from throughout the continent and beyond.

    The Foresters were there, and it was a surprise of all but those few who really had a sense of how far in the world the little clan had come, that the old count of Otmar had bothered wrangled an invitation for himself and a few of his favored sons and daughters. Even coming in person.

    A very confused Carlo Oddmund head of the main Oddmund clan, and a few of his younguns, had stopped by to see just what the fuss was about, having heard the sounds of the banquet from the main family¡¯s compound, and ended up leaving with more questions than answers.

    There were more than few famous faces from the Einrode duchy and others from even farther out who¡¯d come to the arid Emerald Steppes.

    Overall, the vis-Oddmunds little get together had turned out be far more star studded than any of the family had expected and Olivia¡¯s staff ended up having to enlist the aid of several of the local eateries to see them all fed.

    They were using one of the family¡¯s ships to create a spatial-distortion field above the family¡¯s manse,  which was the only reason that they could comfortably fit all of the guests within their yard.

    *************************************************************************************************************

    Eventually things settled down, and all their guests went home. Later that night all the core members of the family met in the dining room to discuss a little business amongst themselves and have some after dinner drinks. They drank honeyed flower-wine and spiced devil-wood ale, a traditional Palmas nightcap.

    Young Miss Patricia was there too, brought along by her beau Wally, at the urging and approval of his mother.

    She wasn¡¯t quite family yet, but if the promise band she wore around her arm was any indication that would soon cease to be an issue. Besides, she and her mother were actually quite high up in the family¡¯s plans. Old Missus Patterson wasn¡¯t always a humble boarding house matron. The Patterson family was much like the vis-Oddmunds, except with a worse streak of luck. It always chilled Olivia¡¯s heart to think of what could have happened had her husband been killed instead of merely wounded, and had their sons been directly drawn into the family¡¯s conflict instead of being able to grow in the relative safety of the countryside.

    Patricia Patterson was currently an only child, but she hadn¡¯t always been so, and it was not by any choice of her mother, or her dear departed siblings.

    ¡°So, Egon here says are ships are as good as building shits as they are at blowing shit up. Is that true, kiddo?¡± said Jarek. Eyes twinkling in anticipation.

    This tale has been unlawfully lifted from Royal Road. If you spot it on Amazon, please report it.

    ¡°Ships?¡± muttered Patty. More than a little confused, Wallace had given her a rough sketch of some of the things that she and the rest of the non- vis-Oddmund portion of the Oedheim clan revival plan had been left out of the loop on. Most of it was confusing, all of it, was far fetched, and for the most part she wasn¡¯t entirely sure she heard most of it correctly.

    Wallace had just barely filled her in, thirty minutes before the family gathered, saying that if she and he were going to get serious, there were probably a few things she might want to get filled in on. Such as the true nature of the mysterious family asset that was making what everyone had been believed to be a grueling decades long slog into a brisk walk in through the forest.

    The family turned towards Edwin who sat rubbing his eyes looking sleepy.

    ¡°Huh? Oh, yeah...Or rather, why is it that none of you guys know anything about the things I send. I send manuals, and wikis, and video tutorials whenever a new feature gets added. At least watch the tutorials.¡±

    ¡°I watch the tutorials, dear. Their lovely.¡± said Olivia. Her tone a soothing one. Patting her cranky son¡¯s arm.

    ¡°I do too.¡± said Vanessa. Actually meaning it this time, her experience with the ship¡¯s destructive capabilities having awakened an interest in her concerning what the fleet her husband had gifted her and the rest of their family was capable.

    ¡°So, they can build stuff?¡± said Egon. Leaning in towards his young brother, wearing a look that made him look like he was about to eat the smaller Jotun.

    ¡°Yes, Of course they can. How would they able to self-repair, or fabricate new equipment if they couldn¡¯t build stuff. The ship print¡¯s can make materials and parts, and each ship comes with several swarms of construction bots.¡±

    ¡°Construction bots?¡± said Patricia. Her brows bunching as she tried to follow the conversation.

    ¡°Robots...er golems... that build things and put things together. They look like bugs but each of them possesses more skill than your average master craftsman in the capital.¡± said Vanessa. Explaining for the other woman.

    ¡°How well and how fast can these swarms build?¡± asked Olivia. A few thoughts and ideas flitting through her mind.

    ¡°Well...let¡¯s say we decided to destroy all of Palmas after all...and just you know flatten everything¡­¡±

    ¡°We can do that?!¡± exclaimed Patty.

    ¡° Shh, I¡¯ll fill you in later.¡±said Wallace. Calming down his alarmed paramore, with a joking look that hid his own growing concerns and uncertainties with the fact that his family had long since ceased to merely be a power in the nation and had reached a point where stirring the seas, melting the mountains and giving the whole world a fright wasn¡¯t impossible.

    It helped that Wallace had been hiding these concerns from his family and the men that were under him for some time now. Having first come to an understanding of where he and his family stood after single-handedly  taking out a group that the Palmas kingdom might have needed to send an army to subdue.

    ¡°...If we destroyed all of Palmas today, all the swarms on all our ships could build a new Palmas in about three month''s time. If we told them to just make more of themselves using the rubble, and they spent a week or so just multiplying they could halve the rebuild time, and build the kingdom better and bigger than it originally was, in just six weeks.¡± said Edwin.

    There was a lull, as the family sat absorbing that information.

    Jarek, Olivia and Egon, who all shared the duty of handling the family¡¯s defensive and logistical planning all shared a look.

    Jarek sighed, not knowing what expression to make. The way his son spoke was enough to both warm and chill the blood. If it weren¡¯t for Jarek reminding himself that the sort of unjustified mass murder that would be involved in just unrestrainedly using all of his son¡¯s shiny toys, wasn¡¯t the same thing as merely exterminating along a lineage or group, he might well have given in to that dark little voice in his head.

    ¡°Nh...Well, then. That¡¯s good to know.¡± said Jarek. Glancing over at his wife and knowing without even asking her, that in her mind¡¯s eyes there were visions of fortress cities, paved roads, and instantly built, heavily secured compounds dancing in her head.

    ¡°Hehe...any time, dad. Also, since we¡¯re all here, before we move on to the next thing, I was kind of wondering when you guys would be okay with moving past the twelfth rank.¡±

    ¡°Huh?¡± said Egon.

    ¡°Twelfth rank...I thought there were only ten?¡± muttered Patty. Whispering in Wallace¡¯s ear.

    ¡°Move past the what-what now?¡± said Wallace.

    Jarek just stared at his son, thinking absolutely nothing, simply giving himself time to breathe. Then whilst still keeping his expression he steepled and unsteepled his fingers and then tried to search his memory for one of those ¡°bulletins¡± that his son liked to send the family whenever he came up with new absurdities for them to make use of.

    ¡°I¡¯m afraid you¡¯re gonna have to explain that a bit for us, sug.¡± said Olivia. Patting her husbands back to remind him that he¡¯d forgotten actually breathe while he was busy buying himself time to breathe.

    Edwin blinked a bit of light flickering in and out of his eyeballs before, his blue-silver irises returned to normal.

    ¡°Er, yeah...So¡­.I think it was about two...no...it was three weeks ago. I sent a message to everyone that ascension chambers and enriched-elements were ready.¡±

    ¡°Enriched-elements?¡± said Vanessa. Shivering, a little when she imagined the idea of having undergo another transformative process with her husband¡¯s ¡°nanites¡±.

    ¡°You know...like the stuff we already have inside us, but with a little more juice inside to hasten that whole pesky cultivation thing and a few extra components I couldn¡¯t build in the current strain of elements because I lacked raw energy  required to process them. I mean no point in wasting time with efficient methods right? I harvested a few stars, with no habitable worlds in their goldilocks zones. I sort of melted them down...except you can¡¯t melt stars since they¡¯re made of fire and plasma and stuff, so...maybe that¡¯s a bad way to describe it. That¡¯s besides the point though. What I¡¯m trying to say, is if we¡¯re going to be fighting gods we¡¯ll be ready. After all, we¡¯ll need some immortal operators if we¡¯re going to be making full use of my anti-divine weaponry ¡­I even got a modified strain of the elements going for some of the more trusted people amongst your forces. So that you can promote the power of anyone that you want to bring past the twelfth layer with us. It¡¯s got most of the basic functions of the stuff that¡¯ll be inside of us but none of the special permissions or extras.¡±

    Wallace stared at his brother and then blinked away the headache he felt coming on. He wasn¡¯t even going to bother asking who or what a goldilocks zone was. Smiling wryly he responded for their shell-shocked parents, aware that somebody needed to say something.

    ¡°So you¡¯ve got a mixture of god-formula lying around for us to take? Cool. Alright how about we all take it on Thursday?¡±

    Edwin nodded typing into the empty air and noting it down on his calendar.

    ¡°Got it.., we¡¯ll all undergo the process on Thursday. I¡¯ll get some of the full solution for Patty there since she¡¯ll be joining the family soon. You guys better not forget about this, the whole process is a pain to prepare, but it only takes like...six hours so¡­.we might as well just get it over with.¡± said Edwin. Leaving his older brother gaping. The sarcasm in Wallace¡¯s tone having completely slipped the younger Jotun¡¯s notice.

    :

 46: Non-Platonic Awkwardness

    The vis-Oddmund family¡¯s after-dinner drinks continued, and so did the after-dinner talks. Unfortunately, after Edwin dropped the bomb that a week from now they were all going to be immortals, whatever else they had to say passed by without anyone really paying any attention.

    Things were wrapped up two hours later when Olivia noted that they¡¯d spent a solid forty minutes talking circularly about nothing in particular and were likely all in need of some rest.

    The family went their separate ways, Wallace escorted a very befuddled looking Patricia to bed. Jarek and Olivia said good and bye and headed to the bed. Egon headed out to go adjust a few of his plans for next week, and make a list of names that they could trust with such an important portion of the family¡¯s secrets. Eventually, Edwin and Vanessa were all that were left.

    Walking in silent heading to the room Olivia arranged for them. It wasn¡¯t till they got inside that it finally clicked that the room exactly that, just a single bedroom suite to be shared by the both of them.

    Thinking logically it made sense. Married people generally slept together unless one party was either a very bad sleeper, or was upset with the other. Since neither Van nor Ed feel in either of those categories, as far as their parents knew, it made sense for them to be quartered together.

    The only thing that made it awkward was certain looming realization that this was the first time that the two had been alone with each other in a little over a year and a half.

    Van felt that she was most at fault. Somehow, a few weeks of faffing about in the capital had become months of wrestling with Palmas aristocracy. Edwin shared her guilt because the few times she did come back to the sect¡¯s grounds he¡¯d be doing something abroad or he¡¯d be working on some project that required his full attention.

    Sure, they¡¯d kept in touch with holographic conference calls, and use of their ships¡¯ communication systems, talking daily, or at least every other day. Sharing concerns, and jokes. However it wasn¡¯t quite the same thing as being in the room with the other person.

    And now that they finally ¡°were¡±  in the same room it was obvious that it hadn¡¯t been the same. There was less pressure before and the intimacy was of a different nature. Talking through a screen when the other party was hundreds of miles away had a different feel compared to talking to someone was who sitting right next to you on the bed. The stakes were real then too, but it had felt different in a way that neither of them could put their finger on.

    In Edwin¡¯s case, he was getting flashbacks from his time on Earth, recalling the difference between instant messaging a girl he liked, and the difference between actually talking to the girl in person. Even if agonizing over a typed reply and agonizing over the stupid things that could come out of one¡¯s own mouth still entailed agony, at least there was more leeway when it came typing.This story originates from a different website. Ensure the author gets the support they deserve by reading it there.

    Thus it was, that the two lovers sat on opposite corners of the bed, looking at their own feet and not once glancing at the other person, for a solid twenty minutes.

    Eventually someone had to speak up, and when that person spoke, it ended up startling both the speaker and listener.

    ¡°Hon...are we bad at this whole being married thing?¡± said Edwin.

    Vanessa blushed, and frowning, feeling slightly guilty, but telling herself that if she was guilty, she wasn¡¯t guilty alone.

    ¡°Maybe¡­I didn¡¯t date much before we got married, and I don¡¯t think I ever saw you with a girl, so I¡¯m thinking we¡¯re both a bit in over our heads. But it¡¯s not like mom and dad didn¡¯t set an okay example, so I¡¯m not exactly sure excuse we can use here.¡±

    ¡°Mhn...Maybe no excuses? I mean it¡¯s not like we suck too badly. We¡¯re not getting a divorce right...Right? You¡¯re not divorcing me are you? Because aside from the whole not seeing each other in months thing I sort of thought we were working out.¡± said Edwin. Getting slightly anxious near the end.

    Vanessa shook her head chuckling.

    ¡°No. I¡¯m not divorcing you. At least I won¡¯t divorce you unless you try to divorce me first¡­.that seems fair right?¡± said Vanessa. Aware that her words were just air and noise at this point. Meaningless, existing only to cut the awkward silence.

    ¡°I probably should have tried a little harder to visit you in the capital I mean we have all these ships and they can cross the continents in minutes. And recently I even set a up an improved satellite system with a linked teleport-gate system so that mom and dad could move their troops and supplies around more easily so honestly there¡¯s no excuse for me¡­¡±

    ¡°No excuse for us dear, I actually read the bulletin you sent when the teleport -gate network went up.¡±

    ¡°Oh? You did?! Thanks...I swear you and mom might be the only ones in the family who read those things.¡± said Edwin. Sighing.

    Vanessa looked down and saw that somehow the two of them were holding hands. It didn¡¯t feel too weird so she didn¡¯t take her hand away. Instead she scooted a little closer to his side the bed.

    ¡°Mnh...it¡¯s nice seeing you again. You know in person...by hologram or video or whatever, we just talked a few days ago.¡± said Vanessa.

    Edwin kissed the back of Vanessa¡¯s hand and simply sat there with his eyes closed.

    ¡°I think it¡¯s nice to see you again, too. Between you and me I haven¡¯t slept in about three months, and while not sleeping probably won¡¯t kill me, even if I have do it a for a few years, I have to say...I very much like getting a solid eight hours in if I can manage it.¡± said Edwin.

    Vanessa nodded, pulling away a bit, a slight flush turning her blue-skin a pale purple.

    ¡°Oh, okay then...Does that mean we¡¯re not going to be doing that tonight?¡±

    They both froze at Vanessa¡¯s words. Vanessa was slightly mortified, but she met Edwin¡¯s eyes anyway.

    ¡°What? Do you think it¡¯s too early? I mean maybe it is a little, but we¡¯ve been married for more than a year, and I¡¯m pretty sure I love you like...non-platonically...I just sort of figured¡­¡± said Van.

    Edwin blinked and then he leaned in and kissed her. Telekinetically snuffing the lights in the room. He¡¯d get his eight hours another night.

 47: Gray Gods Scheme

    Gray-God Vivek stood on the balcony outside his study, looking markedly less dapper than he¡¯d been a few months ago. His eyes were bloodshot, with dark gray rings gathering beneath them. His godly aura was deflated giving away how exhausted he was. Were he not a god and therefore capable of looking however he so chose, so long as he paid it mind, there might have been some five o¡¯clock shadow and  some soil and  rumpled clothing present as well.

    Instead, he stood looking, cleanly pressed, plainly dressed, and as close to being tired onto death as an immortal being, with near infinite vitality and stamina, could get.

    He¡¯d never been able to find what happened to Dougall¡¯s people, none of other gods of knowledge knew. Neither did the gods of secrets. Or the gods who held dominion over rumor.

    He¡¯d gone around asking every being that might have seen something or heard something. He¡¯d thought he¡¯d found a trail to follow when he got word that whatever had happened had originated in the mortal heavens.

    The scent had been strong enough that he¡¯d even been willing to set himself against the white gods of the clouds and sky. Confronting some. Flattering others. Setting aside his pride as a higher deity to try and place nice with those over glorified weather men of the mortal heavens.

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    Unfortunately, it was to no avail, despite whatever happened, having happened in their skies, even the sky gods knew nothing.

    Eventually time ran out and Dougall would no longer wait. The only way for Vivek to get the dark god off of his back was to bribe the bastard. Paying a costly price to get the man to go away. The price for peace had been one that Vivek still felt now, weighing on him, wearying his ancient bones.

    Thanks to whatever and whoever had eliminated the cult of golden-shadows, the gray-god was now diminished having to barter away a portion of his divinity to avoid having yet another godly enmity to worry about. It was a price he¡¯d have to pay to keep a god that was both to tough and too slippery for Vivek to simply eliminate, from becoming a problem while things were so delicate.

    The only bright spot was the fact that gray-god was now free to resume his planning. Dougall would no longer hounding him and there would no longer be a chance of the black-blue god spilling whatever he knew of Vivek¡¯s plans to the gray-gods enemies and rivals. A guarantee that Vivek had in the form of Dougall¡¯s godly oath.

    Which was slightly less firm a ground than Vivek would like, now that Dougall¡¯s status as a god was much diminished after the loss of his people the chains that came with godhood held him less firmly.

    Vivek stood on his balcony looking down at the mortal space that dwelt below Darkgrand¡¯s immortal heavens.

    He felt a knocking at the back of his mind, a sign that someone was calling out to him, the familiar knock of an urgent prayer. Vivek knocked back and a tired smile spread across his face. His gray eyes shining in their sockets. Glowing with a light that soon overtook his body.

    He recognized the ones who were calling him, and recognized the gods that were behind them. It seemed his friends on Askr had decided they wanted in on his little. It looked like all his flattery and cajoling had paid off. His distant partners seemed to be willing to go all in and invest themselves a little more deeply into his scheme.

    ¡°About that damn time¡­¡±

 48: Expansionism

    ¡°Captain Lafay to Command, all preparations on the Nine-hammer are complete. Now awaiting instructions.¡±

    ¡°Status report received. Please standby.¡± said the reply. Garbled by static and sounding strained as it came in through a ship¡¯s communication systems.

    ¡°Captain Rex to Command, all preparation on the Blue-Reed are complete. Now awaiting instructions.¡±

    ¡°Status report received. Please standby.¡± said the reply.

    ¡°Captain Ivanhoe to Command, all prepares on the Fifth-Babylon are complete. Now awaiting instructions.¡±

    ¡°Status report received. Please standby.¡± said the reply.

    This same process, and the accompanying communication was repeated over and over again for the majority of a week as the United Planetary Navy and Stellar Marine force of the Planet Askr were gathered.

    The night sky above of Askr was little up with hundreds of millions, of man-made lights. All of them attached to skyborn, starborn machines. Glittering ships of obsidian metal and gray-blue glass, that crowed together like a school of fish.

    *************************************************************************************************************

    It should come as a surprise to no one that those who spent their time scheming against others were usually the sort who were schemed against the most.

    The duplicitous Gray-God Vivek was planning to steal the divine thrones of Embla from the rest of its native gods. As his only on world partners were a few minor deities and demons that he¡¯d either promised power to, or owed him favors, and the Greater God Dougall of the Dark Blue, once Dougall lost his people and pulled away from the fold Vivek had no choice but to turn to his allies off-world.

    As one might imagine the kind of people that might agree to be part of such a plot were generally not of the nicest variety. Even the gods knew that so-called ¡°honor amongst thieves¡± was a fairy tale. An illusory thing less substantial than the clouds. This tale has been unlawfully lifted without the author''s consent. Report any appearances on Amazon.

    The only thing that could be trusted was that people of their sort would do whatever they felt was in their own best interests, and take exactly what they thought they could get away with taking.

    In the case of Vivek, the little trickster gray-god with dreams of taking his world¡¯s divine throne, his allies had all pretty much been planning to get what they could take from him, right from the get go, a mere handful of centuries ago.

    Meaning that the majority of all that groveling and bargaining was pretty much just them, squeezing their inevitable partner-in-crime to see what else he¡¯d spit up in a desperate attempt to sweeten a pot that was already three-thirds honey.

    It also means that rather than being put out when they got word through the divine grapevine, that their dear partner was having troubles they were ecstatic; A Desperate crook, was often a messy crook, a crook who made mistakes because he wasn''t thinking too clearly.

    Thus it was, that when Vivek alighted to the palace of Ferenc, a yellow god of war and conviction, and told his compatriots that he would need them to bring even more forced when he snuck them through Embla¡¯s divine shielding, he missed the look his Askran partners shared between each other.

    They¡¯d planning to take advantage of him from the very beginning. If Vivek had been thinking just a little more clearly, he might have questioned his sanity for inviting this pack of foxes, into his hen house. Remembering that to them he was just more prey, instead of a full compatriot.

    Less than a day after he¡¯d contacted them for additional assistance, the gods of Askr would reach to their peoples with divine missives and prophetic dreams. Informing the mortals of Askr that the time had come. The time of manifest destiny was nigh. A rube had opened the opposition¡¯s defenses, it was time for them to go conquer and take what should have been theirs all along.

    Askr was a world of Darkgrand, and like all the worlds of this slice of the cosmos it was home to an exiled people. In Askr¡¯s case rather than descending from monstrous beings, and fallen gods, the people were descendants of great men. Men who had become more than men. Their status making them hard to deal with. Making it so that the gods, angels, and demons couldn¡¯t deal with them as  they would normally deal with such offensive mortals.

    Askr was home to humans, elves, halflings, and dwarves, who descended from ancient empires, that had been ruled by ancient immortal kings. Immortal-Kings who¡¯d only allowed themselves to be sealed away if the gods gave word that their peoples would not be directly destroyed by them.

    Instead of being destroyed these people were sent to the dark slice of the cosmos and put in thrall to the scheming deities of Darkgrand. Dark gods who promised them power, salvation, and vindication in return for servitude but only delivered on the servitude and power part of their promises.

    Fast forward a few million years or so now all the nations of this world had sent all their most powerful ships, carrying all their most powerful men and weapons. Sailing them across the sea of stars to a planet sized jewel that was just waiting to be taken.

    They sailed for three days straight, flying faster than any man or woman of their world had ever flown. Then mid-way through, they all simply disappeared. Every last ship was gone, every last man and woman was gone. Vanishing from the senses of their gods and the sensors of their mortal rulers.

 49: Cheeky Monkeys

    One fleet of ships, was manned by humans, dwarves, gnomes and elves was surrounded another fleet, an alien fleet. A gleaming gray-blue fleet of metal squids and metals whales, their number exceeding a hundred times that of the Askran fleet, with each and every single vessel controlled by a networked intelligence.

    Stunned, believing that they were the sole space-bound power in their solar the Askran¡¯s were left unsure of what to do. The sheer amount of ships on their screen standing as a stark revelation of how wrong they were. The commander of the Askran fleet sent out a hailing signal.

    ¡°Greetings this is, Commander Goldflint of the Unified Askran Flint, what is your designation?¡±

    Then a response came from the Emblan fleet. It came as a cacophony of languages, that eventually resolved to one that sounded a lot like the language that had been spoken on the broadcasted radio signals that early Askr had sent out during a time before the gods rushed their progress and pushed them into a space-faring age.

    ¡°This is the Oedheim fleet. You are trespassing in Emblan Star Space. Please, explain your reason for doing so.¡±

    It was a tete-a-tete of ¡°who are you, we are *blank*,¡± followed by ¡°who are you, we are *blank*.¡±

    Eventually, because they had their gods behind them, and because they¡¯d never been in the weaker position before, and thus were unable to recognize the full scope of the danger in which they found themselves.

    Some unwise, but well meaning soul, asked if the Emblan or Oedheim Clan Fleet, would ¡°please, step aside and surrender¡± as their world was now under the benevolent rule of the Askran heavens.

    The Oedheim Fleet declined. The Askran fleet insisted. Thus the Oedheim fleet had to decline again, this time with use of fusion torpedoes, and anti-matter rays.

    *************************************************************************************************************

    ¡°Eddy is something wrong?¡± said Vanessa.

    ¡°Hmm? Oh, no. I just ran into some pushy weirdoes the other day, and it¡¯s still kind of bothering me is all.¡± said Edwin. This tale has been unlawfully lifted without the author''s consent. Report any appearances on Amazon.

    It was Thursday. Yesterday was Wednesday, before that was Tuesday, and on Tuesday, Edwin¡¯s fleet had a run in with those unknown weirdoes from Askr.

    He wasn¡¯t sure which annoyed him more, the fact that they¡¯d thought they could flying in and go all ¡°western-imperialist¡± on his homeworld, or the fact that the divine protection on their ships had been enough to hide them from his sensors for so long, or the fact he¡¯d been being so lax in his protection of his homeworld that either of those two things had mattered.

    With the only thing that saved the day on Tuesday, being his technological superiority compared to the Askran fleet.

    He¡¯d probably sensed them and just taken them for the tools or installations of Askr¡¯s gods. Leaving them be, because his history with the gods had been less that pleasant. His fleet had only responded because having that many divine presences fly so close to his old world had trigger an alarm protocol.

    He¡¯d learned from this lesson though, and was now paying closer attention to absolutely everything within the range of his ships¡¯ sensors.

    Their attack on his dominion had roused a bit of his Nemesis indoctrination, awakening a little voice in his head that said that called for the total eradication of all and any would-be nest-thieves.

    He¡¯d barely managed to throttle it back, by placating his extreme xenocidal impulse with some petty revenge. He answered the Askran¡¯s attempt to conquer his world going all ¡°war of the worlds¡± on Askr.

    Flying a detachment of his fleet into their star space to wipe out any ships they might have left on or around their world and then blowing up all any aeronautics and time-space tech facilities that they had in that world. Sending down droids to erase any digital or hard copy records of this technology. Effectively grounding the little blue-green world for the foreseeable future.

    The equivalent of disassembling the car of someone who¡¯d tried to run you off the road. Then going to their house blowing up any cars or bikes they might have had in the driveway. Then following that up by demolishing their local dmv, drivers'' schools and car manufacturing plants, to assure they could never buy or build another car, or even learn to drive again.

    Just in case they somehow managed to get around this, he¡¯d left an even bigger detachment of ships in their half of the solar system just in case they or their gods tried to go for a second round.

    A detachment that would self-replicate and expand just like the rest of his fleet was expanding. Eventually taking over the nearby uninhabited planets and moons and surrounding the little world with an ever watchful foe.

    Vanessa squeezed Edwin¡¯s arm bringing him back to the present.

    ¡°Well, you know, how it is...pushy folk are everywhere. Now come on, let¡¯s get this whole transcendence-process thing going before Egon and dad bust a blood vessel.¡± said Vanessa. Smiling at her husband.

    Edwin blinked and smiled back, looking over at where his family stood, backed by over two hundred of their most loyal men and women. It was a hundred people more than the initial number he¡¯d discussed but still manageable for the resources he had on hand.

    Edwin smiled and gave his wife a kiss. The two of them blushing as they realized that their display had been seen by the two senior vis-Oddmunds, Jarek and Olivia, who stood nearby smiling as they watched the two talk amongst themselves.

    ¡°Come on, let¡¯s go become immortals.¡±

 50: Wax Tyranical

    Zuzen Bakar appeared in an empty field somewhere in the middle of the Harta continent, somewhere far from any settlements, towns, or cities, somewhere far from ordinary people''s eyes. He¡¯d fallen like a meteor, making the air scream with his descent, his aura flaring brightly. Then he landed like a snowflake barely rustling the grass as he touched down.

    Moments later he was accompanied by several others, all of them from Radiant Orrichalcum Gardens, all of them disciples of their master, the youngest person to ever climb to the rank of elder in the sect. The powerful man they¡¯d ever meant including the Sect Head, and the occasional envoys from the mother sect.

    A few of these self-named disciples were even fellow elders of the sect, people decades or even centuries their master¡¯s senior. Warriors who¡¯d put away their pride for a sake of being enlightened in the true essence of martial power.

    People who¡¯d eventually become convinced and converted the more they were shown and taught, putting away their own petty plots and schemes as they saw how long the road they were trying to walk on actually was.

    One of the last to land was a short young woman, only six feet or so in height, gray skinned, with goat horns and an ox-tail, making for a striking resemblance with their Sect Head.

    She was Radha Suresh¡¯s daughter, Arya, someone who was being groomed to be an elder and possibly take her father¡¯s place in the sect. Someone with other elders in the sect serving as her masters, or at least that had been the case before all her former masters become Elder Oedhiem¡¯s disciples.

    Looking at things now, Zuzen couldn¡¯t help feel slightly awed. He felt the urge to challenge the strange unicorn horned jotun a second time just to see how long he¡¯d last before the younger jotun finally crushed him. He was pretty sure he¡¯d last a full minute now, even if the master wasn¡¯t holding back.

    ¡°Hail, Bakar...how goes life as a rogue cultivator?¡± said Arya. Finding her way to Zuzen¡¯s side after hoping off of her flying sword.

    ¡°It goes¡­¡± said Zuzen, wrinkling his nose. He wasn¡¯t sure what he was doing counted as roughing in as a rogue cultivator. As far as he knew, normal rogue cultivators didn¡¯t walk around with spatial bags filled with enough rare materials, weaponry, devices, and essence medicines to put most sect vaults to shame.

    Most of his work,  most of all the other ¡°rogue¡± cultivator¡¯s work, as part of their master¡¯s scheme was for them to wander around looking aloof. Butting their heads into things that weren¡¯t their business, showing off their power and wealth, to draw a following. Killing off the occasional would be robber and rival that came around, to try and take the things they¡¯d shown off, for that same purpose

    At the moment Zuzen had fifteen brother¡¯s in arms that he was developing and sixty lower leveled disciples that he¡¯d usually observe from a distance and then visit at just the right time to deliver some usual advice, a bit of support, and a small fortune of materials to before ¡°mysteriously¡± vanishing again.

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    Those who¡¯d been scattered and told to join other sects were doing much the same thing except with their lower disciples. Basically doing their best impression of what the master was doing. Gathering all the available talents in their area and converting them into future followers of the Radiant Orrichacalcum Gardens.

    Another of their fellow disciples wandered over a cat-eared monstrum with the last name Kenneth and a thing for crimson capes.

    ¡°Damn, is this really okay, people are gonna notice if we all go missing like this...It¡¯ll ruin the plan.¡± whined Kenneth.

    Arya chuckled and tossed a honey roasted chestnut that she¡¯d gotten from a bag of mix that she¡¯d pulled from her spatial pocket into her mouth.

    ¡°Eh, I wouldn¡¯t worry about it. Something tells me that guy has a plan.¡± said Arya.

    Zuzen gave her a sidelong look, and then shivered, Arya was one of those that responded to power. She was a nice enough person generally, but she also was an adherent believer in establishing dominance over those who were weaker than her and following those who were stronger.

    For her it wasn¡¯t just a matter of flattering the strong and oppressing the weak. In her head might truly made right, and some of the things she¡¯d been shown were enough that Zuzen was fairly sure that if her father turned the sect over to her today, she¡¯d likely turn it right over to their master in the same hour.

    She was a true zealot of their master¡¯s ¡°Pancosmic Way¡±, what made Zuzen feel a cold in the back of his neck, was the knowledge that with each passing day, he wasn¡¯t far off from becoming like the rest of the zealots himself.

    As he was busy thinking these thoughts he realized that the crowd around him had gone silent, he looked around and saw they were all looking upwards at the sky.

    Zuzen looked up and saw that the sky above them hadn¡¯t darkened, and the same clouds that had been above them before were above them now. He wondered what everyone was looking up at and then it flickered into view.

    A massive vessel that could have likely flattened their entire sect if it ever tried to land. A vessel so big that Zuzen couldn¡¯t help wondering why experts from around the continent and its neighboring isles weren¡¯t all flying towards it to see what on Embla was going on.

    A light opened in the bottom of the ship and the entire field was bathed in blue, pure, blinding, blue light.

    Zuzen felt the bottom fall out of his stomach, then felt the world shift. He closed his eyes as his spiritual sense and physical perception could no longer take the light. Then he when he opened them again, he found himself staring down at an empty field. The same empty field that he had been standing in just moments ago.

    He blinked and then blinked again.

    ¡°Okay¡­.Now, what the hell is that suppo-¡­?¡± said Zuzen.

    He heard Kenneth, retching, and saw the cat man lean over to gag, watching with an odd fascination as the disgusting slurry seemed evaporate in mid-air never quite touching the ground.

    ¡°Hello, all. Thanks for showing up when I called. I know you were all busy, but I sort of figured that it¡¯d probably be best if I called you in all at once.¡±

    All heads immediately turned towards the speaker, after monsters of taking instruction and being gently indoctrinated, everyone in this space, whatever it was, knew the voice well.

    Edwin Oedheim, Elder of the Radiant Orichalcum Gardens, stood on a small circular stage. Or rather than standing on the stage he seemed to be floating above it. He drifted to the left and to the right and the stage seemed to follow him.

    ¡°Hey, guys.¡± said the young Jotun.

    ¡°Hail, Master.¡± said crowd. All of them falling to his knees.

    Zuzen knelt as well, and wondered when exactly it was that all of this began feeling so natural.

    ¡°So first off¡­.the plan is off. I repeat the plan is off. After certain options recently became available I and Sect Head Suresh decided that doing things the slow way, and trying to be clever...was kind of a huge fucking waste of time¡­.Sorry for wasting your time though, I know how much you guys have sacrificed and how much you¡¯ve put into it, but I think you guys are all going to like this new plan, a whole...lot...better.¡±

 51: The Jotun Way

    The heavens of Darkgrande grew darker as fifteen of its stars were snuffed out, dimming till they were no more, and only emptiness was left where they¡¯d been anchored in the night sky.

    Resting in a room within a diamond-shaped structure with vast non-euclidean inner-workings, was one Radha Suresh, current head of the Radiant Orrichalcum Gardens.

    On the wall of the room was a play of some sort, an opera, that would have been broadcasted on something called ¡°television¡± in its original world but had been recorded onto the core of the vessel he was in.

    Sect Head Suresh wasn¡¯t paying any attention to what the gilled, blue-skinned, actors on screen were doing. He¡¯d mostly just left the recording on because he liked the haunting melodies that served as a centerpiece of the opera.

    What he was paying attention to was the board that sat in front of him and the black and white pieces that moved across it. He was playing chess against the vessel¡¯s ¡°com-pu-ter¡±. If he wished it, the structure would manifest an illusory figure who¡¯d physically move the pieces, but the old sect head was fine playing with the current set up. He was old enough that he¡¯d started to grow fond of his own company.

    Besides, the board, and the chess game that was he currently in the midst of losing, Suresh was also paying mind to his own physical state.

    Though he seemed to be seated in a room, he was actually floating in some manner of strange luminant fluid. Sitting inert in a blindingly bright, womb-like cell, as his body was taken apart piece by piece and replaced with mysterious elements whose nature he couldn¡¯t even began to understand, and all the actualized and potential energy of the fifteen stars from the night sky was infused his being.

    One day, while the Sect Head was making plans for what to do about certain overtures the outsider enemy¡¯s had made to his allies within the continent, the boy had approached him with a suggestion. A small suggestion that had eventually worn at him, eating at his inner-ear like some manner of brain eating insect.

    The youth had offered him a hypothetical, speaking of a possibility in which he and his sect would likely not have to fear the plots of their peers at home and abroad, for at least a thousand years time.If not not longer.

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    Suresh thought it, wishful thinking and said as much.

    However according to the youngest elder the plan was simple, all that would have to be done, was for the sect head, and a few chosen members of the sect to undertake a small procedure, and enjoy a few days vacation from their normal duties.

    At first it sounded too good to be true, and again old Suresh said as much, but then the youth showed him a sample of the elements, the secret little existences board of power, and mortal innovation, and divine law that flowed through his bloodstream.

    When Suresh found himself still skeptical, the younger man let the Sect head test them, and once Suresh had tested the elements, it was like falling in love with a transcendental beauty. Even if the old man had any reservations, he¡¯d already fallen too fast to think of speaking them.

    Now here he was. Floating through the void, having taken flight and burst free from the gravitational bounds of his homeworld like an immortal old. Now here he was about to climb to a peak that countless cultivators before him and doing so without even an ounce of true effort on his part.

    It reminded him of the first time his father had taken him on his sword and flown the two of them across the great mountain ranges of Harta.

    He could remember looking down at the world below and seeing the mountain tops, and thinking, with awe that he was doing in a thrice what countless others had died trying to achieve.

    It was same exact feeling, and the same exact situation. The old sect head had never once imagined himself attempting to reach the peak that was true immortality.

    Simply being powerful enough not to be threatened or victimized, and having a deep enough a cultivation to live and die without regrets had been enough for him. Reaching the height of a sect head was just something that sort of happened.

    Now here he was, about to gain the power to turn mountains into sand with a mere wave of his hands, turn oceans into deserts by just blinking.

    It was unfathomable, it was impossible, it was just simply too broken, but if there was a chance that it could be achieved then it would be worth the risk. Some things were worth setting petty things like reason and logic aside for.

    Besides that, any doubts that the old man might have had, had been put aside when he saw his young elder¡¯s wife and she showed him and some of the other seniors amongst the sect what she could do, in a place that was now thoroughly unsuitable for habitation.

    This was the new plan, the new angle for attack. This was the good old fashioned Jotun way. There was no need for tactics, or strategy, or unnecessary cleverness. All the sect would need was raw power, his raw power, and the power of the majority of the sect¡¯s golden generation.

    Thus the Sect Head dreamt playing his chess game in a virtual world, waiting for the day he would emerge from his diamond shaped cocoon. Killing time as he felt his very soul being nourished by the raw power of the cosmos.

    Dreaming of a day when he¡¯d emerge with the power to flip the heaven and earth upside down as the jotuns of old had done before the other angels, devils, immortals, gods united to seal them away in a single tiny corner of the universe.