Mercy didn't know how the meeting would go. She wasn't even sure if this would be one of the good kinds of meetings or the kind she would be expected to bow and nod as her Mother scolded her.

  "Uncle Fury?" Mercy asked as she stepped forward closer to the door of the house her Uncle had taken her to. "Do you think she's mad at me?"

  "What for?" Fury replied with a shrug. "Did you do something bad?"

  "I don't think so," Mercy hesitated.

  "Don't worry about it too much," Fury assured her. He placed his hands behind his head and lay on the ground, closing his eyes. "Whatever she says, don't take it to heart."

  "I just..."

  "Mercy," Fury opened one eye. "Mother has issues, too, even if she doesn't show it. Like if you keep her waiting for too long, she'll get cranky," he said, unbothered by the usual consequences of calling a monarch 'cranky.'

  Mercy exhaled, trying to relieve the tension in her shoulders. "Here goes nothing."

  "Mercy," Fury stopped her as she opened the door.

  Mercy turned to look at the Herald.

  His eyes were open, and he gave her a bright smile. "Great job."

  Mercy felt her heart grow lighter, and a big smile formed. "Thank you, Uncle Fury."

  When Mercy entered, she felt the space warp as she was brought to her Mother's domain. The domain was entirely made out of shadow, and Mercy felt her hair stand straight.

  "Mother?" Mercy asked the shadows. "I'm here."

  "Mercy," Akura Malice's voice called out from behind.

  Mercy turned and saw her Mother. Akura Malice's hair was made of dark shadows that moved like smoke as it rested against her back. Her skin was pale as sculpted porcelain, untouched by time or warmth. Her lips, painted black, formed a smile on a face too still to be human. Her eyes blazed with violet light—no whites, no pupils, just pure, searing purple.

  She wore a gown that looked spun from a starless void. Blacker than black, it shimmered with oil-slick iridescence, catching light that wasn't there. The dress clung to her form like ink on a blade—elegant and severe. Purple scripts glimmered along her sleeves and hem, shifting as if aware of Mercy's gaze.

  "Hello, Mother," Mercy said, her grip on Tsu tightening.

  "You've returned," Malice stated.

  "I have," Mercy nodded. "The clan needs me for the tournament, don't they?"

  Her Mother didn't reply, and the silence grew.

  "I need to help the clan," Mercy continued. It is sick , she didn't say.

  "You admit your loss?" Malice asked, her words mellifluous and graceful.

  Mercy was not Pride. That was not the virtue she carried. She was Mercy, and she would stay true to it.

  Mercy looked down. "Yes," she replied. "I will return to the family with my role and responsibilities therein."

  She didn't want to, but she needed to.

  Slowly, Mercy felt her Mother wrap her arms around her. Tears flowed down Mercy's cheeks as she was pulled into her Mother's chest.

  "I named you well," Akura Malice whispered. "You did not lose, yet you claimed so, knowing I can't take back my word."

  That was true. Mercy was a Truegold, and her spirit was sealed to a lowgold. Her Puppeteer Iron Body, gone. Now, through her own means, she had returned an Underlord.

  "I'm proud of you, Mercy," her Mother whispered into her ear.

  Mercy's tears flowed more freely. Her Mother had said precisely what Mercy's Underlord revelation was. But Mercy didn't cry because of that.

  She cried because her Mother's words felt empty to her. Hollow. Doubt had crept into her. Fear that this was another manipulation tactic by her family, like what Aunt Charity had done.

  "You're afraid," Malice stated gently, pulling back slightly to look at her daughter with her eyes. "You've seen the evil of the world."

  Mercy nodded.

  "You can always talk to me," Malice gently moved a strand of Mercy's hair and tucked it behind her ears.

  Mercy's grief blurted out in an instant. "I saw what we did. So many deaths. Unnecessary deaths."

  Malice made a soft smile. "You can change it, Mercy. That is why I made you heir."

  Mercy looked to her Mother earnestly.

  "You are the Mercy to my Malice."

  Slowly, Mercy's smile returned. "Thank you, Mother. I didn't know I needed that."

  The silence grew as mother and daughter embraced.

  Malice spoke first. "You have achieved Underlord without the clan's resources. You should wear that achievement with pride."

  Mercy hesitated. "I want to ask about Aunt Charity."

  Malice looked at her daughter knowingly. "Is it about how she targeted your friends?"

  Mercy nodded. "Lindon and Yerin would have been ruthless if the tables were turned," she admitted. "But Sadi and Whitehall wouldn't have. Why target them? Weren't we supposed to be allying with the Wastelands?"

  Malice waved a hand dismissively. "Charity has her own reasons. We don't always see eye to eye. However, I would not worry about it too much. We exchanged words right before I sent Fury to bring you here."

  Was that why Aunt Charity had been so quick to snap at Pride and the other Underlords in the courtyard?

  "But," her Mother continued. "I wouldn't be so quick to despise her if I were you."

  Mercy looked up to meet her Mother's eyes and waited for her Mother to continue.

  "It was, after all, Charity that protected you when you left the clan."

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  Mercy stood rigid, confused by what her Mother had said.

  "It was she who convinced me it wouldn't be that bad of an idea to let you leave the family. It was she who ensured your protection in the Blackflame Empire despite my orders."

  Malice winked.

  "It was Charity who struck a deal with the Beast King to keep you safe in Ghostwater as you were surrounded by enemies. She felt responsible for being part of the reason why I allowed you to leave. And thus, she thought she ought to try and get you to return now that we need you."

  Malice's gentle smile returned.

  "Her actions are always what she thought was best for the clan. She skirted around the edges of my command to keep you safe. We don't always see eye to eye. But I can assure you of one thing, Mercy," Malice lifted a finger.

  "She cares about you."

  Her Mother's words struck Mercy deep down.

  She knew the world was not black and white, and neither was her family. She just didn't realise how grey it was.

  "I guess," Mercy started.

  She didn't think she had it in her to forgive the Sage for the harm to her friends and the needless deaths of their vassals. But one thing she knew she could give.

  "I might owe her a thank you."

  Yerin's sword rang like a bell as she sent her Rippling Sword towards Eithan. He lifted his right leg up and joined his hand above him like a contortionist.

  Her striker technique missed. And he hasn't even moved from his spot. Neither had his smile.

  Yerin gritted her teeth.

  "Eithan!" she yelled, her knuckles turning white as she gripped her sword tighter. "You promised you would be serious! I have no one else but you to train me!"

  He had shown her what he could do. How he could cause all the defensive scripts in the training arena to light up. The pressure he exuded. And he did all that without Madra.

  "I'm not learning anything!" Yerin yelled in frustration.

  From her side, her Bloodshadow also growled in similar frustration. They had gotten the Bloodshadow a sword of her own. It wasn't made of Wintersteel like Yerin's, but it was decent enough.

  Eithan's smile did not waver as he answered. "I have dedicated myself to being the best mentor I can be," he said, crossing his heart. "Can you see what I am trying to teach you?"

  Yerin faltered. The way Eithan had spoken reminded her of her master.

  "Just tell it to me straight!" Yerin yelled. "I am a sword artist, not a philosopher. I strike at my problems."

  Eithan's eyes grew distant for a moment as if contemplating something unspoken.

  "Do you want me to do that, Yerin?" Eithan's smile disappeared.

  "Yes," Yerin replied without hesitation, and her Bloodshadow growled in agreement.

  Eithan nodded, and he met Yerin's eyes as he spoke coldly.

  "You're master was weak."

  Yerin felt rage flooding through her. "You dare bring his name up?" she seethed. She had to stop her Bloodshadow from attacking outright with her will.

  "I said it," Eithan replied with a serious tone. Slowly, Eithan pulled out the end of a staff from his soul space.

  Not a staff. A broom.

  "Attack me like how your master would," Eithan continued, his smile returning slowly. "I'm sure you could still hear his remnant."

  Yerin hesitated. That was what she had been trying to do this whole time.

  "I'll show you why I said what I said," Eithan continued.

  Yerin swung her sword, sending another wave of Rippling Sword at Eithan. Beside her, her Bloodshadow did the same.

  With a single swing of his broom, Eithan cut through her attack.

  Her master's remnant screamed at her to feel the sword aura in her spirit. Understand what the aura wants. And reach for it.

  To strike.

  She swung her sword again, empowering her striker technique with her sword arm. To her surprise, her Bloodshadow returned to her core and...

  ...empower her?

  The sword aura rang in unison.

  "Better," Eithan commented as he leapt towards Yerin, swinging his broom. "But you are heading in the wrong direction."

  Yerin's technique shattered beneath Eithan's swing, and then she raised her sword arms to protect herself from Eithan's strike.

  But it never came.

  Instead, he tapped her head gently with the hairy part of his broom.

  "I get it," Yerin said through gritted teeth as Eithan leapt away. "I am not him. I have a Bloodshadow, while he doesn't. I'll only be a pathetic mimic if I keep listening to his remnant."

  "A start," Eithan replied.

  Yerin closed her eyes, allowing the sadness from the thought of her master to run through her.

  "I'll be gone for a few days," Eithan suddenly continued, and Yerin looked up to see him leaving the training hall.

  "What?" she called out after him. "Aren't you supposed to be training me?"

  Eithan smiled at her as he looked over his shoulder. "The strongest techniques are often developed on their own. Find what techniques make you...well, you. I don't only believe in you, but I know that you have what it takes."

  Yerin growled in disbelief.

  "I'll be back in a few days to check on your progress," Eithan waved. "But I am also needed elsewhere."

  Eithan felt very satisfied as he left the training hall. Yerin had picked up what he was trying to teach her quicker than expected. Maybe he had underestimated Yerin's determination.

  Maybe she was right; she needed to be told straightforwardly. Most people he tried to teach previously hadn't done so well when told plainly.

  Or maybe it was the knowledge that her master was also a flawed human being that had helped her figure it out quickly and accept Eithan's words.

  He brushed the thought away quickly. That thought would only go on and on if he did not nip it in the bud now.

  Besides, he was nearing his destination now.

  His ears perked up as he heard the conversations beyond the door.

  "Are you sure about this, Saeya?" Naru Gwei's voice echoed beyond the large gold door.

  "Yes," Naru Saeya replied.

  Eithan felt the shuffling of papers and Saeya signing documents through his Bloodline ability.

  "This would eat through almost all of our treasuries, not even considering the opportunity cost," Naru Gwei warned.

  Naru Saeya slammed her fists on her desk, shattering the wood in half.

  "Gwei," she hissed. "My brother may have taken a relaxed stance, and he paid the price for it. I have answered your queries. As much as I appreciate your advice and scrutiny, I currently do not have the luxury of time. So now answer mine. Can you do it?"

  Silence.

  "Yes, Your Highness," Naru Gwei replied after a long moment. "I can see it done."

  Then the Captain of the Skyswon stepped towards the door of the Royal Office, and Eithan tidied his clothes in anticipation.

  "Eithan," Naru Gwei rumbled as he opened the door and saw Eithan standing idly with a wide grin. "Eavesdropping on royal affairs?"

  "Captain," Eithan bowed. He was, after all, still a member of the Skysworn. "I'm afraid I was summoned here."

  Naru Gwei looked like he was about to start yelling, but he sighed uncharacteristically. "Do try to be gentle towards her. Our family had lost much recently."

  Eithan smile shifted to a more sympathetic one. More understanding. "I promise," he replied genuinely.

  "You both know I can hear you, right?" Naru Saeya called out from inside her office.

  Naru Gwei straightened at her words.

  "Come in, Eithan, and shut the door behind you."

  "Captain," Eithan saluted Naru Gwei.

  Naru Gwei rolled his eyes and left.

  "You summoned me?" Eithan asked as he entered, shutting the door behind him.

  His eyes threatened to bulge out of their sockets as he looked inside Saeya's office. He had known it was messy through his Bloodline ability, but seeing it with his own eyes...

  Well, let's just say he suddenly had the urge to pull out his broom, duster, vacuum cleaner, table repair kit, paper clips, binders, mop, air freshener, trash bags—a lot of trash bags—and a very strong cleaning agent.

  He turned his gaze up and saw Saeya flying close to the ceiling, her goldsigns out, and her signing papers while using the top of the bookshelves as a makeshift desk.

  "Are you in need of a janitor?" Eithan jested. "Because you called a perfect one to sort out this mess for you."

  "Almost done," she raised a finger, asking Eithan to stay silent momentarily.

  He began taking papers from the floor and arranging them neatly in different piles according to the departments.

  When the Empress was finished with the last of the documents and sent them through several different chutes, she let out a long sigh.

  "Finally done," she muttered.

  By then, Eithan had finished repairing the desk and even added two extra chairs from his void key. Not to mention, not a single piece of paper was left on the marble floor.

  "Wow," Saeya muttered as she looked at the neater state of her office. "I knew you, Aurelius, were good. Didn't think you yourself to have such a talent."

  "We serve to impress," Eithan bowed theatrically as his gloves and other tools disappeared into his soul space.

  Saeya began skimming through the neatly arranged pile of documents. "You even arranged it to the right departments and urgency," she commented.

  Eithan couldn't help but widen his smile. It was not often that people recognised his real talent.

  "The Emperor-," Saeya paused. "My brother," she continued in a hushed and more painful tone. "Didn't have the best arrangement convention."

  "He had assistants," Eithan replied gently.

  "Pssst," Saeya rolled her eyes. "Useless the bunch of them were. I asked them to provide me with the Empire's cash flow statement, balance sheet, income statements, and KPI ratios. They didn't even know the difference between EBITDA and net income. They never even did a proper audit," she complained.

  Eithan just smiled. The Sage had chosen well.

  "Did you know how much he spent on his wives every year?" she exclaimed.

  Eithan had a rough estimate, but he pretended he didn't know. "I was never privy to the Empire's spending to such a detail."

  "Two million high-grade scales! That can be put to so much better use!"

  "A real philanderer, he was," Eithan replied as he thought of the late Emperor.

  "Yes," Saeya concurred, sinking into one of the new chairs Eithan had placed, her tone turning soft and wistful. "Yes, he was."

  Then, she shifted her gaze away from Eithan and looked out the large window behind her.

  Eithan saw everything through his Bloodline.

  The swelling of her eyes.

  The quivering of her lips.

  The tears she quickly blinked away.

  And the things he couldn't sense but knew.

  The grief she tried to suppress.

  "I miss him too," Eithan lamented, looking down at the pile of documents on the desk, his voice cutting through the silence.

  Saeya nodded.

  "Less than an hour," she replied.

  Eithan looked up toward Saeya, her form framed in silhouette by the sunlight streaming through the window.

  "That was all the time the Sage gave me to grieve for him before I had to step into my new role."

  Eithan remained quiet. There was nothing to say.

  She turned back to face him.

  "I'll get straight to the point," she began. "Why I summoned you here specifically."

  Eithan straightened.

  "When we were facing the Seishen Kingdom, I witnessed you fighting three Underlords," she stated.

  "I was barely surviving," Eithan corrected her. "And wasn't it you that kept up with two Underlords head-on alone?"

  She shook her head. "No, you weren't." She pulled out three papers from inside her pocket and laid them on the desk before Eithan.

  They contained details of the Underlords Eithan faced.

  "Rank two of the Seishen Kingdom Underlord," she pointed to the first.

  "Rank four."

  Then, she pointed to the last one. "Rank one."

  "I was lucky," Eithan tried.

  "I know you're hiding your strength, Eithan," she replied. Lifting the three papers with wind aura, she ignited them on top of the candle on her desk. "And I'll respect your wishes. I haven't told a single soul."

  Eithan gulped. "Why did you summon me, Saeya?"

  The Empress leaned back in her chair. "I have engrossed myself in Empire duty since we returned. Now I feel comfortable enough to focus on my training and leave the rest to my uncle for the time being."

  She leaned closer.

  "You faced three ancient and high-ranking Underlords while protecting the entire crew," she whispered. "If the Empire is going to flourish, then we cannot be seen as weak. As Empress, I must show my power in this upcoming tournament. Will you teach me, Eithan?"

  He watched the fierceness in her eyes.

  The determination.

  The relentlessness.

  The desperation.

  How can he reject?

  Eithan cleared his throat. "On one condition, Your Highness," he replied.

  "Name it."

  For the second time today, his smile almost disappeared. But he maintained it.

  "I always thought that my previous methods of teaching were too harsh and shifted to a more gentle hand and encouragement of self-discovery. Let them make their own mistakes so they can learn from them. At least, that was what I plan for my current students, " Eithan began.

  Saeya had heard and read reports on Eithan's teaching methods on Yerin and Lindon. She wasn't sure what he meant by 'gentler.' If that was a gentler way, then she feared the fates of his previous students.

  Eithan continued. "But recently, I have been told otherwise. And I am questioning myself if I was not giving my students the best direction and guidance by being a gentler teacher."

  His smile grew wider, almost manic.

  Saeya almost flinched, but her determination easily waved her fears away.

  "We have around nine months until the tournament. Eight if we count the journey towards Nine Cloud. That's not a lot of time," Eithan folded his hands.

  He met her eyes when he spoke next.

  "I will break you like nobody has ever before," Eithan answered. "You will suffer to the point of breaking and beyond that. And I will force you to endure. But if you agree...," he paused for dramatic effect.

  "I will not let you fail."