Metaworld Chronicles

In modern times, Dragons tended to sleep, sometimes for centuries. This peculiarity was the basis for grand narratives of cataclysm where peaceful settlements would "happen" upon a Dragon den while mining rich seams of HDMs or harvesting countless rare herbs. In all cases, the mortals would invariably awaken the calamity and then cry foul.

Conversely, a Dragon could also choose not to sleep, arguably for as long as they wished, for such had been the circumstances of survival in the Primordial World.

Therefore, riding on Dragon juice, the Lord Regent of New Shalkar now abused this feature to level a mountain of paperwork. Together with her eidetic recall, she performed the work of a dozen executives, planning, signing, proofing, and projecting every major aspect of the city's construction for months ahead of schedule.

Of course, Regent Song was no Oracle of Delphi—and her projections are not of the future—but rather the budgetary concerns of cash flow, inventory and materials. A line of credit had also been established with the Germanic Dwarves, who would continue building their partnership, and her city, even in her absence.

Within the week, refugees would also flood into Shalkar. Before then, residences, public transportation, security checkpoints and healthcare facilities had to be constructed and skeleton staffed—with the missing roles to be assumed by the refugees.

As a responsible Regent, she had to ensure her future citizens felt the state's tender care. There would be dissidents, naturally—for the paradox of the human mind made them unique among the denizens of Terra. As The Bloom in White had intimated, the strange dimensions of human desire were unfathomable. For instance, even among the refugees driven from their homes, exorcised from the summer of their lives into a desolate winter of bureaucratic apathy, a non-small volume fought tooth and nail against having new lives in Shalkar Al-jadeedah.

To be saved, given a new home, employment and a future with their family wasn't enough! They desired to be rescued—but only on their terms!

But that was a fish Regent Song would have to fry another day. Her immediate concern was the October wedding. In a world without the internet, she would have to teleport to Paris and drop some serious HDMs. After that, she had to pick up the gifts she had sourced. With great foresight, Gwen had discerned that for a Dragon princess who lacked nothing and a military hero who wanted nothing, the only worthwhile bundle was the most outrageous baby and toddler's clothes, cribs, playsets and strollers magic could afford. Uniquely, hers would range from Elf-woven masterpieces to Dwarven-tinkered perambulators. All of which would drive Axyin's future play date parents to bouts of insane jealousy!

After consultation with her city's stakeholders, she, Richard, Petra and Lulan would attend the wedding as a group—with Lulu filling in for Ayxin's side of the family. Gwen's role would not be the niece of Jun nor the grandchild of the Songs. At Secretary-General Miao's behest, she was to be the Regent of Shalkar Al-jadeedah, a high-level Magister, a diplomat of the Commonwealth Mageocracy.

When she asked Richard to unpuzzle the politics, her smiling cousin had explained that the Secretary-General did not wish any unpleasantness to ruin her enjoyment of a state wedding. With the diplomatic immunity bestowed to her, she had the freedom to do as she wanted—but would also be bound by the role to answer to her diplomat-superior, the Duke of Norfolk. Gwen had identified the arrangement as a gilded cage, and she, an exotic Magical Beast. She was disgruntled—until Richard reminded her that if anyone, Ayxin was the exhibit.

A pregnant exhibit.

Gwen then felt truly sorry for her "Aunty".

She discerned that if her spouse had asked her to parade a swelling belly on national television, she would have asked if they also wanted a Shoggoth. However, Gwen knew her uncle, and she understood the desperation of the Communist Party's need to throw an auspicious bash to undo a time of general anxiety.

Since Erebus, every nation on earth, whether because of catastrophes of destruction, or conflict catalysed by unseasonal boons, sat on geopolitical pincushions. The same applied to the Demi-Humans, be it old civilisations like the Dwarves, who jostled against the horrors of the Murk, or the Kobold residents of Shalkar, who recently "vacated" their homes for Clan Ix.

In the darkness of a long Dungeon, even a small torch was worth its weight in HDMs.

Shanghai.

Putong Tower.

The ISTC Mandala flared quicksilver, depositing its cargo of transmuted individuals hailing from the ancient Abbey of Battle.

"Putong Tower welcomes our friends from England..." The presiding Magister, Wei-Wei Xing, bowed, instructing his fellow to perform likewise. "We greet our most honourable guests from the Ordo St George and Bath."

The newly arrived entourage involved three Knights and a Companion. Two were Knight Lieutenants, sporting the dark officer's uniform of the Ordo Bath and cloaked in rich velvet and ivory Moon Moth silk. Both made a half-bow, their white gloves pressed upon the crest of the radiant sun.

Their descent was followed by a young man with ash-blonde hair and intelligent blue eyes, richly dressed in the uniform of the Ordo St George, attired in a double-breasted carmine jacket embossed with gold buttons and cut with a crested ivory sash.

Elvia Lindholm was the last to step from the raised dais of the ISTC. Compared to her companions, she appeared meek of stature but grand in the air of her presence, for she was fully cloaked in the pale blue regalia of the Knight Companion, additionally wreathed with rare mink, which made her flaxen hair all the more vivid.

As the Chinese Mages approached, it became obvious to her that the Magister's deference was not for her Knights but for her alone.

"O Anointed One." Elvia saw the man beam as he met her searching gaze. "Hosting the Yinglong's Vessel in our city is a great honour. I have made the best accommodations ready for your inspection. Would you like to rest now, or is there another pleasure I may first fulfil?"

"There is, Sir Xing. I would like to know..." Elvia spoke softly, for her mood had been grave of late, and their final arrival at the destination of everything she had worked toward had made her reticent. "If Magister Song has arrived in Shanghai."

"Magister Song?" It took the Chinese Magister a few moments to process the request, likely via Message channels. "Ah—The Regent of Shalkar has not. We are five days away from Mid-Autumn, and the Regent has informed us that she will arrive the night prior."

"Very well. Has my itinerary been modified since our last communication?" Besides her, Mathias pulled out a data slate. "We have not received an update since Monday."

"I must check with the Central Planning Bureau for Public Affairs." The Chinese Magister appeared apologetic. Though Pudong Tower was equal to the PLA Tower on paper, the PLA's big wigs comprehensively controlled every detail.

"Are we restricted to the Tower for the wedding's duration?" She asked. Awaiting their answer, Mathias casually placed a hand on the hilt of his Dwarven-made Spellsword.

"No—" the Magister quickly answered. "You have been granted total freedom, per negotiations with our counterparts in the PLA Tower. Is there anywhere you would like to go?"

"Yes." Elvia nodded. Shanghai was Gwen's city. Gwen had spent two and a half years here, knowing its nooks and crannies. "First, I would like to go to Fenbo Village."

"Fengbo... village?" The Chinese Magister appeared to be gently sweating. He quickly scanned his fellow Maguses and guards. "I've not heard of such a provincial region..."

"It's a restaurant near Fudan," Elvia explained, realising that perhaps, the place wasn't nearly as famous as Gwen had raved.

The Magister absorbed her request with every iota of his Astral Soul. "Are you meeting someone there? Milady?"

"I want to eat Beggar's Chicken."

"Beggar's... chicken?" The pause, Elvia felt, had lingered a little longer than could be considered diplomatic.

"Of course! We have prepared a limousine," the Magister recovered well enough. A few of his men immediately left, their arms raised to indicate the use of their Message Devices. "This way, Companion Lindholm—"

"Oh, and while we luncheon," Elvia swallowed the bile in her throat even as she recited the names. "Please arrange an appointment with Lord Ayxin. Likewise, before the wedding, I wish to meet Grandfather and Grandmother Song—and most importantly, I would like to commune with my fellow bridal party members, namely Magus Percy... for... reasons."

After a sumptuous meal of Beggar Chicken, Elvia and the crew were bundled into the limousine for the Yu Gardens.

"It's a historical manor that survived the Ming Dynasty," Magister Xing explained to the Knights and their Companion. "Central wanted Mistress Ayxin within the protection of the PLA Tower, and we wanted her within range of our Tower in case disagreements arouse—so we figured a garden complex with rockeries and ponds similar to Hangzhou would give her privacy and peace of mind. It's an extensive palace—one I hope would satisfy Lord Yinglong. Yu Garden sits at the heart of The Bund, close to every conceivable pleasure Mistress Ayxin may desire."

"Privacy is expensive in a city such as this," Elvia spoke in the stead of her sponsor, though she knew the Yinglong could not care less about the comforts Humans may provide. "I am well-pleased that the Party cherishes my Mistress. How fares our groom? Is he just as well?"

"Master Jun is very busy, considering Mistress Ayxin's need for rest," Magister Xing affirmed her knowledge of Jun's actions. "He's keeping a close eye on the wedding's preparations to ensure Mistress Ayxin has minimal exposure—the very picture of a model husband. Once you review the program, Companion Lindholm, you may consult Master Jun regarding additional concerns."

"I shall, once I have examined Mistress Ayxin's health," Elvia answered as politely as she could. Ayxin, as expected, had rejected all offers of health-check ups from the CCP's Healers. Elvia knew there would be nothing wrong with the child in her womb, but she still needed to ascertain the condition of her Patron's daughter before going forward with plans of her own.

After half an hour, the car pulled into an enormous gate beset by two stone Kirins each a storey tall. Kirins were the traditional guardians of China's east coast.

While disembarking, her three knights formed a vague triangle around her as the local Mage garrison assumed defensive positions.

Magister Xing flashed a jade trinket that indicated his rank and position within Pudong Tower. Messages were divined, and the guards returned to their posts, allowing Elvia's group entry into the central courtyard.

Within, serpentine corridors were built over a blue lake brimming with koi, its surface refracting the mana haze in the atmosphere. The walkways led to a series of multi-storey pagodas, themselves interconnecting nodes that pointed toward the enormous residences within the Yu Garden.

"Mistress Ayxin is expecting you, Miss Lindholm. Your companions will remain here." At the second set of meandering walkways, female Military Mages uncomfortably dressed as servants in modest qipao accosted the group, allowing only herself to proceed. Elvia accepted the conditions, diverting her companions to a pagoda with prepared plates of dim sim desserts and a Mage trained in tea brewing.

"Mathias, Sir Reginal, Sir Kass," Elvia bowed her head. "Please wait for my return."

The men relented without complaint. All of them had by now seen her—or rather—her pets, Sen-sen and Kiki, in the throes of combat.

Elvia crossed the final threshold alone, feeling like a bureaucratic scholar parting the last paper door to an empress' chamber.

Within, the rich scent of sandalwood incense aromatised the air. Elvia proceeded as one might in a Dungeon until she finally saw the reclined form of Ayxin, daughter to her Patron, half-lounged on a divan, looking down from the ceiling.

Elvia raised her head.

Ayxin was not in her Human form. Instead, the pearlescent Dragon took up almost a quarter of the enormous four-storey interior, an extensively modified space for accommodating its new Mistress.

Though she had often seen her Patron in her dream visions, the cut of Ayxin's Draconic true body still held Elvia captive. The demi-divinity was an aesthetic that made her heart ache: from Ayxin's mother-of-pearl scales to the brilliant feathers that crested its neck frills, the female Dragon was breathtaking.

Elvia curtsied as one before a monarch. "Mistress Axyin. As promised. I am here to accompany your ceremony and to examine your health."

Ayxin's head made a fatigued arch before resting a meter above her. "Father slumbers... he too is exhausted by my stubbornness."

"The Lord is aware," Elvia relayed what information she felt could be forwarded. "Of the events to come."

"Not events—but Calamities that shall soon come to pass," Ayxin's slitted eyes narrowed. Perhaps because of their mutual connection, Elvia could feel Ayxin's uncertainty—an emotion she had never imagined a Dragon could express. "But not what of. Will Father allow me the pleasure of knowing? Or shall I meekly endure like your Nazarene?"

"Lord Yinglong has made preparations," Elvia knew better than to decide for her Patron. "Milady should worry about the wedding and what comes after. The child will be months more asleep—but hungrier for Essence."

The enormous head drifted closer. Elvia comforted herself with a mote of her Patron's blessing as Ayxin's presence washed over her like the pressure from a forceful waterfall.

"Unlike Ruxin, I dislike plots," Ayxin protested in Draconic.

Elvia said nothing. The Essence in her body affirmed her silence wholeheartedly, resisting Ayxin's probing.

"Will... my child be safe?" Ayxin asked, half-sighing, half-resigned to fate. "Can you tell me that?"

"The young Master will be safe," Elvia promised.

"Will... Jun be safe?"

"Yes." Elvia's tone remained unmoved. Jun would be safe. The war hero would survive for Gwen's sake and Ayxin's.

"Then all is well." Ayxin released her Dragon Fear. "What else might matter? We each have our roles to play. Vessel. I hope Father has disbursed you well."

Elvia breathed once more.

Indeed. All had roles to play.

"Mistress," she allowed Ki-ki and Sen-sen to sneak out from her broad-brimmed robes. "I need to examine your well-being if you will allow me. It needs to be in your human form since that will be the form you will present yourself during Mid-Autumn. And I am only familiar with humanoid physiology..."

Ayxin's body glimmered, forcing Elvia to shield her eyes.

When the Dragon-wife of Jun Song was done, Elvia stood only a head shorter than the diaphanously robed Ayxin, looking every inch like a fairy from the Chinese wood-cut tales of the heavenly Jade Palace. Her hair was now a mixture of blues, with eclectic strands of silver-white or pale cobalt, making her exotic beyond belief. Ayxin's eyes were Draconic, no longer mimicking Gwen's but truer to her noble blood.

When Ayxin tried to shift her body, the Dragon woman stumbled, disorientated by the complex polymorph.

Sen-sen quickly caught its grand Mistress, infusing her limbs with a generous dose of Faith-infused vitality.

"Human bodies." Ayxin's brow was shiny with a fresh sheen of sweat as she re-orientated herself on the Dragon-sized armrest. "Are so frail."

"You needn't have to transform yourself now..." Elvia regretted informing the woman of her father's wishes so soon.

"Jun will be home soon." Ayxin shook her head. "He's not often at the Garden of late and won't be until all this is over. When he is home, I want to be in this form."

The tone of love and adoration in Ayxin's voice made Elvia stiffen her spine. She as well, for love and devotion, had taken on certain forms.

"Please don't push yourself." She touched a finger to Ayxin's wrist, allowing their Essences to conjoin. As the motes circulated through their Astral Bodies, she could feel the pulsing life within Axyin's transmogrified womb.

Within Ayxin's Astral Soul, her child of impossibilities slumbered, insensible to the cost of its existence. A total innocent, bearing no sin but the hopes and dreams of its parents.

Was the young prince a being of virgin birth?

According to Gwen, Ayxin was no virgin.

But regardless, the hypothetical dilemma had caused no end of dissent and debate at Elvia's Ordo seminary.

But virgin or not, Elvia affirmed the quickening of her convictions—she would shelter the sinless child—and by that good—a greater good shall beget.

Shanghai.

The Song Compound.

With three days left until the fated wedding, the entire city and the country had stirred to joyful action. China's east and south coasts, consisting of its most populous cities, had readied themselves for the greatest "party" since the fiftieth anniversary of the Party's founding. Red Lanterns with pictograms for prosperity and happiness were issued to all citizens and all Districts. Some cities had gone the full length of funding pyrotechnical displays, paralleling the mass Propaganda of "We Chinese, The Descendents of Dragons". Across its vast landholdings, even in the remote Frontiers, children sang full-throated limericks praising the Party and its alliance with the Yinglong while on lumen-casters, cartoons and dramas glorifying the banishment of mythical Drought Gods played back-to-back on every channel.

This year, Percy needn't pull strings to receive his Golden Week vacation, usually a metric to test a cadet's Guan-xi.

While the consensus was that there would be no exceptions for individuals missing families, mooncakes, or loved ones, those with connections in the Party almost always appeared just in time for banquets before sneaking back to the barracks. While penalties were harsh, they were often watered down by sympathetic superiors who themselves had done no less in times of peace. It was a humanised loophole in an unforgiving system that Percy had manipulated innumerable times in Tianjin, taking advantage of his role as the "Best Man" to the Dragon Princess to free up his duties.

For the last two weeks, he had religiously toured the old city's remnants, rediscovering the ancient wells of power left behind by the Kirin tribe. Some were easy to find, such as a mana-rich lode of jadeite hidden beneath a Confucian Temple of Piety. Others were problematic, having been built over a dozen times. Thankfully, the Ming Dynasty had only repurposed the sites, and the Manchurians who had arrived later knew nothing of their history. As a result, except for two nodes now made into shopping malls, Percy could transmute, tunnel, and ensorcel his way into six of the eight tetragram Mandalas.

Unfortunately, the "Eye" node was where Tianjin's regional Tower sat, rising from the riverside as a monolithic concrete atrocity of Communist Brutalism that stabbed into the sky like an inverted lance. From the deep ley-node beneath it, the Tower drank deep the mana meant for the upkeep of the Kirin's domain, using it to project the semi-sphere shield sheltering the deep-water harbour from oceanic threats.

With each successful excavation, Percy had become more convinced of his Patron's past usurped destiny, one that mirrored his own. After the wedding, once the mote of its original Essence had reinvigorated the Kirin, Percy could return to the city and "cultivate", as his Patron had so archaically prescribed, into an existence rivalling the Sea Dragons.

What Percy Song had not expected was that the moment he stepped into his home, a visitor was already waiting on his pleasure.

"Percy, do you know of this Elvia Lindholm?" Mei asked beside him of the reported guest. "That's who they're talking about, right? The Vessel to the Yinglong?"

Percy shrugged. Like Mei, he had no idea why Elvia was here, though the rationale for her presence was sound and logical. If they were both going to be on Lumen-casts in two days, it would be natural to be acquainted before final rehearsals, especially if his sister, Gwen Song, wanted in on the action.

Steeling his nerves, Percy buttoned his uniform, covering the Kirin pendant.

With Mei in tow, he made his way through the crimson-lit courtyard with its blazing lanterns to arrive at the main hall.

Inside, his babulya and grandfather were having tea, smiling gently at a richly robed Cleric who looked younger than Mei, sitting demurely in the guest's parlour.

"Percy, my boy! You've arrived!" his Yeye was kind enough to rise from his seat. Astutely, Percy Dimension Doored inward, bowing as he went, forcing his grandfather to return to his redwood chair.

Once the oldies were appropriately satisfied by the show of filial piety, not to mention the supernatural smoothness of his Spellcraft, they returned to nursing their teas.

"Good evening, Companion Lindholm." Percy bowed from the waist. "We're not strangers, but you are the Yinglong's Vessel."

"Percy." Elvia stood, then curtsied. "My word, it has been a long time. The last time we met, you were just a boy! Now look at you! So handsome! Gwen would be so proud."

It was only now that Percy noticed that others were in the room, seated deeper into the rows of spaces provided for guests. One was a blonde-hair youth studying him with a solemn intensity.

The other two were older, and their gazes were less devoted to peeling him like a banana.

Their uniforms were nothing short of outrageous.

Knights of the infamous English Ordos! Percy's mind registered the emblems. The English Empire's oldest surviving militants with a history that traced back to the Faith Wars of the Holy Crusades.

Could he take one on? Percy wondered. His craft had grown more significant than anyone in the PLA could have imagined—but he had also never fought a Faith Magic user. If indeed their sorcery exceeded the practical understanding of Spellcraft, he had little desire to find out.

"You look the same as always." Percy grinned at the Healer currently inspecting him like a side of char-siu. "Not a day over... sixteen? Was that how old you were that time we met in the city? Sister was taking you out for lunch—I think—that or you were shouting her—"

"I was shouting." Elvia's countenance blossomed like a flower at the recollection. "Your sister wasn't always so wealthy, you know. I dearly miss those days."

The two of them shared a well-earned smile, breaking the ice.

"This is Mei," he introduced his future spouse. "She's my fianceè and partner for Aunty Ayxin's wedding. Do you have a partner, Miss Lindholm?"

Mei waved.

"Mathias will accompany me," The girl indicated to the Knight. Percy gave the man a nod and a sunny smile; the man nodded back, withholding all expressions. The laconicism, Percy guessed, probably made the man more attractive to the ladies, for he looked exactly like those picture books Knights of the Ordo that he had read at Prince's.

"Did you have time to sight-see?" Percy asked, sitting beside Elvia while Mei sat further away to give them space to converse. "Shanghai is a changing city, very metropolitan."

"We visited a restaurant already," the Healer explained, describing the Beggar Chickens she and the Knights had demolished. "They have a picture of Gwen by the door, endorsing the chicken..."

Percy attempted to imagine the scene—three Knights of the Ordo and a sweet saintess Vessel—four gweilos eating clay chicken with their hands shoulder-to-shoulder at a stall, attired in dress garbs.

The vision was... amazing.

"Will you stay after the wedding?" Percy asked, unsure of how to proceed. "I am not sure if Gwen will be staying, but if you are..."

"I will. I suspect there will be a great deal to do after the wedding," as Elvia spoke, Percy found her utterly unreadable. Knowing that Elvia was not a Radiant Mage, he could only assume that this was the effect of her absurd Affinity for Positive Energy.

Against the pale flesh of his collarbones, the Kirin Amulet throbbed.

He sensed a deep yearning—not just for the Yinglong's Essence, but the rich seam of Positive Energy the girl exuded. Of all the Mages he had thus encountered, the Kirin Pendant had never acted so enthused, indicating just how much of an elixir the girl would be for his "cultivation".

But draining the friend of his sister, a Vessel, and a Knight Companion of the Ordo was so ludicrous that even Percy felt a shuddering of the soul.

Quietly, he drank his tea, made a show of despairing at the lukewarm temperature, and then heated the water with a showy cantrip.

"Are you looking forward to the wedding?" He asked. "There's a lot for us to discuss, for sure."

The Cleric, to his surprise, sighed. "Mistress Ayxin is very tired from her exertions," Elvia explained. "I'll be taking care of her, but even then, I would advise Secretary Miao against asking my Mistress to maintain the form the Chinese public desires for the duration of the entire celebration."

"I hear Aunt Ayxin is very... sleepy of late?" Percy felt his heart palpitate. Against his chest, the Kirin Amulet performed likewise.

"She's extremely lethargic," Elvia confirmed. "I met with her earlier. For the day Wedding, we will be retreating directly to the Yu Gardens after the show and tell. Your uncle will be very busy once that happens, considering the speeches and the public praises to come. I hear the Lumen-cast program is almost ten-hours long, from midday to midnight?"

"We can appeal," their Babulya replied with genuine concern. "Our daughter-in-law will be the top priority."

"We have Secretary Miao's full support," Guo added confidently. "Miss Lindholm, if there's a medical rationale for Ayxin to retire early, do not hesitate to let us know."

"I'll help," Percy offered himself selflessly. "I'll carry my Aunt back to the Yu Gardens alone if Uncle Jun isn't there... assuming I am strong enough."

The gathering laughed, including his grandfather, who rarely shared their delight in anything.

"Then, in my Patron's name, I shall thank you all." The Cleric stood and bowed, which made them all rise to return the courtesy, lest the Dragon felt insulted.

All lowered their heads while Elvia remained bowed, awaiting the Vessel to be seated before they could lift their heads.

"Master Percy." The cordial atmosphere was cut short by the unusual tone of the pale blonde priestess. There was no Dragon Fear, Percy was sure of it, but still, his heart skipped a beat. "Would it be too much to ask if I wished to speak to you alone?"

The Kirin Amulet flared hot under his t-shirt, matching the palpitations of his heart.

Unwise. His Patron warned. Tread with care. Prepare to shelter.

His little finger tingled. A man in his position must have preparations, and Percy had two Contingency Rings prepared. One to the PLA Tower in Shanghai, gifted by his Yeye, and the other to Tianjin, bestowed by his Regional Secretariat. If the Yinglong were to attempt something untoward, his first rule of thumb was to retreat to the shelter of unknowing allies and then observe how the crisis may play out.

"Of course." Percy made sure not to falter. With a nod at his grandparents and then Mei, the pair left the banquet hall for his Yeye's study, where he knew Guo had protective Mandalas embedded.

The Cleric followed, unperturbed by his choice of location.

Once inside, Percy shut the double doors, then bid the Yinglong's Vessel take a seat while he took up the chair usually used by his grandfather.

Unhappily, the girl sat next to him in his babulya's chair.

"What would you like to speak to me about?" Percy asked, fighting the strain in his facial muscles.

"Your sister." The Cleric was uncommonly forthright.

"Oh." Percy maintained his guard, his hands growing clammy. "What of Gwen?"

"She loves you," came a reply he had neither inquired nor expected.

He forced himself to raise his head. From the tone of Elvia's voice, Percy suspected that this wasn't one of those lectures from Yeye where he could hang his head and think of Sydney until it was over.

The Kirin Amulet pulsed. A meter away, the young woman's eyes were two pools of limitless ultramarine, so pure and clear that he felt consumed by their sincerity.

"Gwen can be a bit difficult." The Cleric reached out with a gentle gesture. When her fingers made contact with his icy hand, he felt the invasion of a warmth that possessed depthless compassion and empathy. "She has had a hard life. Yet, each time she and I are together, she speaks about her family in Shanghai, how happy they made her, her babulya, her uncle, her cousins, and her little brother."

"Not Yeye?" Percy chuckled. He subtly attempted to remove her hand, but the girl's fingers had somehow arrested his own.

Elvia chuckled in turn. "Less so, I'll admit. Percy. I know from Petra that you and Gwen have had some differences due to your mutual inheritance, but I can vouch for her unconditional love for you. Are you willing to believe me? A Faith Cleric of the cloth?"

The girl, Percy could swear, wore a fucking golden halo.

However, since his Mind Magic devices had not triggered, his vision could only be contributed to being dazzled by an earnestness that could be metaphysically manifested. A part of him wanted to suddenly cry, to utter his sister's name and confess.

On his chest, the Kirin Amulet throbbed.

His heart rate slowed, restoring the clarity of his emotions. Quickly and thankfully, the rush of heat and colour left his cheeks.

"I love her as well," the white-gold vision that was his sister's companion confessed to something amazing. "So much that sometimes, I find it hard to be myself. But I don't think I'll ever possess what she feels for you. And that makes me incredibly jealous."

This time, Percy successfully withdrew his hand from those dangerously soft digits.

"She saved us, you know. All of us," the girl continued as though in a trance. "During the Royal National, she saved me and Yue. Then again, when Sydney was attacked. From the IIUC to Shalkar, your sister's calling card is to save the desperate and downtrodden... then give them gainful employment and a pension."

Percy attempted to read between the lines of the Cleric's words. All he could recall was those sermons from Prince's—the psalms about the Nazarene—about salvation and saviours. Was his sister one of those? The notion was simply absurd.

"I... see," he muttered. At least now, he knew this wasn't a ploy from the Yinglong but a kind-hearted wish fulfilment attempted by one of his sister's stooges. "That's nice of her."

"Gwen saves." Elvia's eyes once more pierced his soul, forcing sweat to ooze from his neck and back. Thankfully, his quasi-magical clothing showed no sign of his discomfort. "One day, she could save you too, Percy."

Percy caught the weighed words like a brick wall receiving a Catapult from a high-tier Transmuter.

But it wasn't gladness that he felt.

He discerned no need for his sister to save him. Hadn't he communed with the Kirin on his own? In the last three years, Percy Song, alone, had navigated the paranoia of the PLA, plucked the talents from those Rogue Mages, and uncovered the secret places of the Xia, all without the aid of others. He had trained day and night, abused his body to exhaustion, and threw himself into mortal danger in every engagement with the Undead. These were his achievements. Not Gwen's, not anyone else's.

She might "Save him?"

Was he a damsel in distress?

Was he like this mewling Vessel of the Yinglong, begging him to be nicer?

To say that the simmering irritation inside him was igniting into something of a rage would be an understatement.

"Thank you for your concern." His facade faltered, but he held on. "My sister's affection is something I've always cherished. You're right. I should be more thankful for it, considering the power she now wields."

The girl's warmth waned.

It was a mere flicker, but Percy caught the subtle signs of a sad sigh before Elvia's blazing flames of affirmation and boundless compassion continued their retina-searing brightness.

He felt a bit thrilled by her dimming confidence. He knew very well the position this blonde Vessel held for his peers in the PLA. He also knew of his sister's obsession with her. Seeing Elvia like this was a strange pleasure and a gentle affirmation that he had confidently walked the right path.

They talked a little more about their past, their mutual lives in Sydney, Lilith's and Prince's, and then the ritual was done.

"Shall we return?" Percy gestured toward the direction of the hall.

Wordlessly, the pair reentered the hall, where his family entertained the Knights.

DING—

A Message chime chose this precise junction to blossom beside them, simultaneously filling their ears with the capsuled voice of its originator.

"It's from Gwen!" His babulya was the first to address the returnees. "How fortunate!"

Percy silently played the Message, as did they all. It was indeed from his sister. As Gwen's sultry, husky arrogance filtered through his Divination Sigil, he once more felt the Kirin stir, this time from the excitement of what would soon come to pass.

His attention, however, was arrested by a bonfire of positivity erupting beside him.

The ever-lovely Elvia Lindholm seemed to grow more beautiful than he could imagine, becoming so blissfully happy that a flora Sprite accompanied by a root-vegetable leapt from the folds of her clothing and began to dance a jig.

"She'll be here—tomorrow?" Percy repeated the only part of the Message that mattered. For some reason, his scalp crawled. "To watch the rehearsal?"

"Yes," came an affirming cry, not from his babulya but from the Vessel of the Yinglong. "Aren't you excited, Percy? Your sister, the Regent of Shalkar Al-jadeedah, shall be personally overseeing your performance!"