Chapter 452

Chapter 452

Well... Thats less than ideal.

An understatement if Ive stated one, but a leader must always appear calm and in control, even when he has no idea what hes doing. Its how Ive gotten where I am today, and honestly, I dont really know what else Im supposed to say in light of Zian, BoShui, and Yuhuans news. Two-thirds of the Society wants me dead and is collectively working towards it. Cool, cool, cool.

My matter-of-fact response earns me a wide-eyed look of reverence from BoShui and a muted scoff from Zian, while Yuhuan continues tapping her foot in barely restrained impatience. Well? She demands, arms crossed and eyebrow raised. What do you intend to do?

...Add the Society back onto my long list of enemies and continue training?

Somehow, I doubt thats the answer shes looking for. Taking a moment to think things through, I look around the table at my gathered allies for support, but there is none to be had. Lei Gong drinks his wine, Wu Gam sits in stony silence, and Dastan still refuses to look me in the eye. In the meantime, Yan is as lost as I am though she offers a supportive shoulder bump, and Zian is playing it cool, pretending he doesnt care about my safety even though hes clearly worried to the point of tapping his foot in sync with Yuhuan. As for Jing Fei, she actually doesnt care and is more concerned with serving Yuhuan tea and pastries which the Tyrant promptly ignores, but Song shamelessly helps herself to the food while keeping Mama Bun and Blackjack off the table. To round things out, BoShui has the utmost confidence in my prowess and is utterly composed and relaxed, the air of maturity and gravitas given to him by his neat moustache and short goatee ruined by his worshipping gaze.

Man... he looks so cool with facial hair and muscles. Should I grow a beard too? If only I could... Then again, Zian is clean shaven and also looks awesome. I cant wait till Im older and look more mature and grown up. Rubbing my chin in thought, I count the few sparse hairs and try to remember the last time I shaved before noticing Ive gotten off-topic. Any suggestions? I ask, hoping Yuhuan has an answer for me.

Tch. Annoyed by the delay to her studies, Yuhuan responds to my question with a question of her own. Youve sent word to your Mentor of the Wraith and Demon attacks, yes? What was his response?

Uh... Its only been three days since the attack. Seeing her nose wrinkle in confusion, I hesitantly explain, It takes five days for a message to reach the Northern Citadel. Which is what theyre calling the developing super-fortress where Dad is stationed at. Since Yuhuan is still not getting it, I add, ...and five days back, so I wont hear back from them about the Wraiths for another seven days. At the minimum, though I should be getting a letter from Mom and Dad regarding my failed patrol in two or three days.

Jaw clenched and teeth bared, Yuhuan growls, I understand the logistics of message delivery, but do you not have a way to contact them quickly in case of an emergency, such as the situation youve found yourself in now? My brother might recuse himself and step away, but I doubt the other factions will heed my warning.

Uh... No? I tried training Rocs flock to deliver messages, but theyre not big on solitary, long distance flights, and Im lacking in Cloud-Stepping Experts under my command, so as far as I know, the only way to reach Dad is by boring overland travel. Glancing at Song for confirmation, she subtly shakes her head and goes back to eating and soothing the grumpy Pong Pong, perched atop Mama Buns head as he glares this way and that, though most of his anger seems directed towards Fort Sinuji. He does this a lot lately, though I dont know why. Im not sure if its my paranoia getting the best of me, but sometimes, when I follow his gaze, I feel unsettled, or panicked even, like Im staring at an invisible predator lurking in the shadows whos waiting for an opening to strike. The feeling usually goes away after a few minutes, but the strangest thing is, once my paranoia settles, Pong Pong does too, though sometimes he finds a different direction to glare at and we start the whole process over again.

Muttering something about buffoons and amateurs, Yuhuan finishes massaging her temples and says, Without support from your Mentor, then your options are limited. Fixing Yan and Wu Gam with a look, she asks, Since Zian and BoShuis methods are undoubtedly compromised along with their retinues, what about you two? Have you the means to deliver a message to the Northern Citadel?

I could send Kyung, Yan offers, but the rude half-cat immediately interjects with a pointed, No, you cant.

The only person who hasnt chimed in is Wu Gam, and from the looks of things, he hasnt even been paying attention. Noting his covetous glance towards the pastries, I slide the plate over and offer him a snack, doing my best not to laugh as his ears wiggle in delight even though his expression remains as stoic as ever. Shoving a pastry in his mouth, he grabs one more in each hand and hesitates before sliding the plate away, though still keeping it within arms reach. My Mentor is unwilling to make the journey, he says, speaking around a mouthful of flaky dough. He claims it is too dangerous to leave me unsupervised with mole-Demons lurking about. With an apologetic shrug, he adds, Besides, though it would not be the most heroic of victories, if you die to these political machinations, then I will be free to court Yan.

Yans throaty laugh does nothing to dissuade Wu Gam, and as awkward as his forthright honesty is, theres something refreshing about a foe who is upfront about his motives. Well, thanks for asking. I like him. Is Original Gam listening or can Wu Gam Send without physical contact? Whatever. It doesnt matter. Stop comparing yourself to other people. Turning to Yuhuan, I ask, Cant we take this information to the Justicars and let them deal with it?

Naive.

Since the Tyrant doesnt seem willing to expound on her one-word reply, BoShui steps in to explain. Technically, no one at the meeting admitted to conspiring to kill you, else they wouldnt have let us leave so easily. Patriarch OuYang only said they were tasked with the removal of a certain young warrior, which could be interpreted in multiple ways. Though everyone present knew we were speaking of killing you, no one ever admitted it outright, so our suspicions will not be enough to convince a Justicar to compel an Oath. Even if we had enough proof, its highly likely our accusations would amount to nothing since they undoubtedly have an Imperial Scion guiding their actions, else they would never risk going against you considering your lofty status and powerful backer.

Lips pursed in a frown, Yuhuan wrinkles her nose and looks me up and down. And I suppose you think I should appoint you, hmm? Oh god no, but luckily, she feels the same way. You are far too crafty for my liking, not at all like how you appear. Little Zian, lend me your concubine for these matters. She may represent my interests so long as you agree to match the price of any obligations she commits me to.

...Shes a terrible judge of character if she thinks Im craftier than Jing Fei, but credit where its due, Yuhuan is a cutthroat merchant, negotiating to get paid twice if shes inconvenienced with the need to work. Dammit, I shouldve locked her in on a price for runic bullets and cannons before giving her all my ideas.

Zian immediately agrees, and while they discuss the details of their plan, I sit back and take a moment to breathe. Ive been under so much stress and pressure, my constant paranoia is turning into the new normal. Taking a cue from Pong Pong, I follow his angry glare towards Sinuji and search for clues of whats got his panties in a twist, but my search is fruitless aside from a fuzzy patch of clouds and a suspicious looking shadow. Aside from that, all there is to see is Zians camp to my south, then the walls of Sinuji beyond it, and a clearing which is bustling with activity. Theres nothing out of the ordinary for a military camp, but my mind continues to scream of indistinct danger, warning me to remain alert and guarded. Is that Han soldier staring at me? Are those craftsmen wandering by too often? Is that shadow moving? A full minute passes before my paranoia settles and fades, but it returns in full force a few seconds after I look away, only to disappear when I turn around once again.

What the hell is going on? Have I gone full crazy?

Not wanting to draw attention to Pong Pong, I keep a close eye on the tiny Divinity but all he does is glare at the clearing in Fort Sinuji. Minutes pass as I parse this latest mystery until Yans elbow jabs into my ribs. Keeping her forearm pressed against mine, she flashes a lovely yet dangerous smile and Sends, Keep staring at Songs breasts and youll wear a hole through her breastplate.

What? No! Im not staring at her breasts, Im staring at Pong Pong and trying to figure out why hes angry. Besides, Yan said it herself, Songs wearing a breastplate so theres nothing to see. Its not boob-armour or anything, its a solid slab of curved metal covering Songs large, weighty breasts beneath.

Okay, now Im imagining them, but only because Yan brought it up.

Yans eye-roll tells me she doesnt believe me, but protesting wont help now that my cheeks are burning with shame. I told her about Pong Pong and how we met, but I dont think she fully comprehends how incredible the tiny turtle really is. Im not talking about his power level either. We only had the one encounter in his Natal Palace, but he understood enough to not only recognize me, but also make a request for more shrimp before sending me away. Understanding abstract concepts and utilizing non-verbal communication are huge steps in intelligence, to the point where most humans have enough trouble with either concept, but Pong Pong has proven himself capable of both.

Too bad I cant muster the courage to visit his Natal Palace again, but Id rather not risk finding out what happens if my spiritual body dies. For all I know, hes grumpy because he wants more shrimp and Chi Tea.

With their plans laid out, the meeting comes to an abrupt end as everyone leaves to do their own thing, including Yan who shoots me a smoky glare before leaving arm in arm with Kyung and Song. Without Pong Pong to justify my paranoia, I push aside my delusions and head to my yurt, where Ping Ping lies in wait with a turtley smile as I get to work. My bathing area has become a permanent fixture in these past few days, as I spend most of my time inside practising how to materialize and Hone Water Chi. Progress is slow considering it takes ten percent of my maximum capacity every time I materialize Water Chi, but luckily it costs nothing to fail at that first step, which I do more often than not, else Id be constantly taking baths to replenish my Water Chi reserves.

Well... more baths than I have been, which were a lot. Even with so many failures, it doesnt take long to go through ten tries.

The most infuriating thing is how my Natal Palace is supposed to be used for efficient Chi practice, but its too easy materializing water in there to make improvements in the real world. I spoke with Song on this matter, but she doesnt have the same problem. While she controls everything in her Natal Palace, she still has the same issues with Chi manipulation in there as she does out normally, which is supposedly normal. It seems my circumstances are unique, though how this prowess came about is a mystery. Maybe it has something to do with my Natal Palace diving abilities, or maybe its because of how I first formed it, while under the influence of the Demon formerly known as Vivek Daateis mind-fuckery. Either way, my Natal Palace is too malleable to be of use, so until I figure out how to limit my powers in the void, Im stuck practising in stupid, inefficient reality.

Itd be so much better if I could bring my powers of imagination out into the real world. If I cant have real bear arms, then I could at least craft bear arms out of water, which is at least dream-adjacent...

Maybe Im oversimplifying things, but when you get down to the nitty-gritty of it, all of my problems stem from a lack of strength, whether it be personal or political. If I were strong enough to dominate my opponents instead of beating them by luck, then it wouldnt matter if I behaved in a tyrannical and overbearing manner, because Id have the capital to back it up. If I had a powerful political ally like the Ryo or Dienne families, then the Society wouldnt have free rein to maneuver me into a dead end. If I had value beyond my talent, then the Empire would have no choice but to shelter me, because Id be an invaluable asset in years to come, rather than the possible nuisance they view me as now. Look at the Tyrant; she walked into a meeting with three Patriarchs, called them all a bunch of idiots, and walked right back out without repercussion. When will I get to do the same?

As things stand, until Dad gets my latest letter, theres nothing for me to do except train and tread lightly, so I continue my efforts until all my Water Chi is spent. Instead of asking my Death Corps to fill the tub again, I flop down next to Ping Ping and lean against her for a break. Sweet as usual, the big girl nuzzles me ever so gently, as if sensing my discouragement and cheering me on. Warmed by her affection, I pat her cheek and Send, If only you could teach me your water-bending ways, Ping Ping. She doesnt understand my words and never Sends back, but giving voice to my frustrations makes me feel better and she recognizes the sound of her name and happily squeaks in response.

Three days without a significant breakthrough, so I suppose I should rethink my approach. Maybe its time I took another look at Chi-infused water...

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