His wife Herdinia was getting ready for, as she put it, a business trip. She was putting her makeup on at the dressing table. Few in the Empire realized it, but intentionally or not, this woman dictated the fashions of makeup and eyeshadow. For her part, she carefully followed the trends of the greater world.
Her things were already packed, her traveling clothes ready, and all she had to do now was make some finishing touches befitting to the status of first advisor to the emperor.
Suddenly, her hand with its brush froze in the air. Herdinia stopped and looked at her husband. Feeling her gaze, he sighed, put his communicator aside and raised his eyes.
“No, Herdi,” he said firmly.
“But why not, Tony? Ma Ju Ro is doing fine! Under him the economy is booming, which means our profits will be up! I believe in him!”
“I have no shadow of a doubt in that,” Anthony chuckled. “Otherwise I’d have no idea why you’d want to traipse after him into the wild north. Do you really have nothing better to do?”
“This is giving me something to do!” Herdinia answered sharply. “While you... forgive me, my dear, while you sit here and languish in idleness!”
“I’m just betting on another horse,” Anthony answered softly. He didn’t like to argue with his wife, preferring to pick his battles. “Rezsinius is younger, more ambitious...”
“Don’t tell me you’ve already been speaking to him!” The woman jumped up from her chair and stood before her husband. “Anthony! Answer me!
Cross impassively lifted his cup from the table and drank his coffee, smiling ever so slightly. The emerging situation had amused him, but everything had its limits. It seemed his wife had begun to take her role in the Empire and the family hierarchy too seriously. It was time to put her in her place.
“Herdi, I haven’t just spoken to him, I’ve also explained to him what is what in this world. You don’t think you’re the only one with the right to help their candidate?”
“You told him about Syahr’s place in the world?” Herdinia gasped. “You cretin, Anthony! What an idiot you are!”
“I don’t think so,” Cross shrugged. “He’d have found out anyway. Better sooner than later. At least he’ll have fewer illusions. Anyway, even now that he knows he’s striving for power over a genetic garbage heap, he isn’t about to give up. On the contrary, the ability to strive for something more has inspired him!”
“Maj will kill him, don’t even doubt it!”
“We’ll see,” Anthony muttered, immersing himself in his communicator.
He knew that at times like this, it was best not to clash too much with his wife. Once she cooled down, he’d be able to talk to her. She’d definitely calm down in her two weeks of absence, and a trip at sea would do her good. The only path to the North on land led through the radioactive Wastelands teeming with mutants, so the imperial delegation would have to first travel by sea along the coast, then land at the foot of the mountains and then travel the rest of the way on the awful local roads where the fertile lands of the North began.
By Anthony’s calculations, it would take a week to get there, they’d be there two to three days, then a week to get back. Half a month of freedom!
Cross already had his eye on a few nice examples from among the emperor’s favorites. Importantly — his former favorites. And still more importantly — those that knew the value of such trinkets as good perfume or a diamond ring, and thus of keeping their mouths shut. It didn’t matter that the diamonds were synthetic. None on Syahr knew the difference.
Immersed in lascivious thoughts, he absently noticed Herdinia leaving without saying good bye.
“So long, dear,” he said automatically.
Cross watched through a security camera as the imperial retinue left the palace. Time for him to get to work as well. If Herdi thought he was languishing in idleness, she was mistaken. He didn’t like to lose, so he’d decided everything in advance.
Decided, but hesitated. However, the conversation with his spouse was the last straw; in the same five minutes, she’d called him feeble-minded and accused him of indolence. Anthony would see what she would say when it turned out her husband was right. And he’d order the new emperor to not let Herdinia within a mile of state affairs!
Anthony walked into a part of the building hidden behind a thick steel door, a kind of huge metal egg concealed within the cliff. One of his ancestors had built the hermetically sealed bunker after a Cross was assassinated in a council session.
To enter the bunker, he had to go through a multi-level confirmation system. He used a voice command to start the identification process, then the system checked his biometrics: fingerprints, facial recognition, DNA analysis. The system concluded that he was alone, calm and not under duress.
The bunker contained combat stealth suits, exo-skeletons, plasma weaponry, molecular blades and a medical capsule. There was also a server that contained complete information on the Overseer’s activities and synchronized it to the cloud, communication systems, and huge supplies of provisions and drinking water in case something went wrong and the place had to be defended. Not every newly minted emperor had taken the true state of affairs calmly after their first conversation with their fourth advisor.
Anthony sent a request to the head of the entire Cross family — Tiranius — to speak on an encrypted channel. Syahr had become theirs by order of the shining queen Taira Ra’Ta’Cant, but competing racant families wouldn’t miss a chance to get hold of any intel they could. And the worsening situation with deliveries from the island wasn’t something Anthony could be proud of.
The answer came at once — although it was midnight on the other side of the world, Tiranius confirmed the communication session. Within three seconds, they were connected.
“Speak, Tony!” Tiranius ordered, wasting no time on ceremony.
“I need confirmation, First One,” Anthony said right away. “Our analysts have reviewed the reports and given their verdict — my suggestion has been accepted as rational. I ask for your personal confirmation.”
“It isn’t all so clear-cut, Tony,” the leader of the Cross family shook his head. “It was rational half a year ago, but now, by my data, the situation is stabilizing and the current ruler is handling it. Or rather, will handle it, once he defeats the competitor.”
“Does that mean ‘no’?”
“It means do what you think is necessary. You’re there, you know best. The responsibility is yours!”
“Understood, uncle.”
The connection cut out before Anthony could even say good bye. The head of the Cross family was a very busy man, and Syahr wasn’t even the family’s most profitable industry. Well, so be it.
He’d have to fly to the North. If he hurried, he could get back by nightfall. Anthony glanced over the armory and stopped at a compact single-use stasis field generator, which looked like a cone-shaped blue crystal. It would be a bad idea to give the northern wildlings anything deadly, but this thing would just break down into dust after use.
* * *
As he disembarked onto the shore, Luca stopped for a moment, closed his eyes and took a few deep breaths. His father was right. The air was fresher in the north of the Empire. It smelled of pine needles and sea salt, and these were the only scents in the cold, crystal-clear air.
His people were unloading the baggage and saddling the horses while he stood immobile, surrounded by his people, breathing freely. He wanted peace; for the country, for himself, for his mother and sister. There was one final step left — to get the northerners on his side and meet Rezsinius in battle. He planned to keep things bloodless if he could successfully sneak into his cousin’s camp and send him into a long sleep.
In the end, Kora, Weasel and Herdinia went with him, not counting thirty of Hector’s guards and the crew of sailors.
The first advisor had managed to convince Ma Ju Ro to take her along after all. The reason wasn’t just the rational argument that her feminine smile and knowledge
of all the industries in the Empire would be essential in the negotiations. It was also his departure from Keirinia.
With each passing day of their relationship, Luca realized that no matter how sweet and seductive his courtesan was, he was bored of her. Without the sex, there’d be nothing left. In turn, long conversations with his former secretary turned first advisor Herdinia Cross led to Luca starting to see her with a fresh perspective. He saw her sharp mind, her sense of humor, the unique color of her beautiful blue, purple-tinged eyes. Not to mention her perfect figure in light of the knowledge of who she really was. A racant. A person with perfect genes.
And even in the age difference didn’t bother the emperor. Biological years were a thing of the past for him under the weight of millennia of heritage from Esk’Onegut and the decades of life Ma Ju Ro’s body had lived.
Moreover, Herdinia actually loved him, unlike Keirinia. Her love may have been initiated by the sexual magnetism virus, but that effect had long since disappeared, giving way to real feelings. The one thing holding Luca back was that Herdinia was taken. He was happy to spend time with her, but he didn’t even allow himself the thought that anything more would happen. Most of all, he didn’t want to cause her problems.
So when Keirinia dropped her eyes and asked the emperor to allow her to marry a certain successful and handsome Reyk, Ma Ju Ro gave his approval.
At the same time, he relieved Kora of the status of courtesan, although that happened after they set off. His sister came to him with Kane and asked his blessing for their relationship. Weasel was so frightened of the conversation that as soon as the emperor opened his mouth, he closed his eyes in horror, then lost control and tried for a long time to embrace his ruler’s immense body...
Under Weasel’s direction, the horses were harnessed into teams, the packs unloaded and the group set off for the lands of the northern barons, surrounded by mounted guards. The ship’s crew stayed at anchor to await the emperor’s return.
Their path took them through a twelve-mile stretch of no man’s land. It wasn’t the Wastelands, nor the fertile land of the northerners. It was stony, lifeless soil with rocks jutting out here and there. The guard captain Tarson was worried about this leg of the journey, and for good reason; it turned out to be dangerous.
First they were shot at in a narrow gorge. Three guards were lightly injured, but the group managed to fight back. The wild band of mutants barely managed to run from Hector’s plate-clad warriors, leaving four dead behind them. That was the first time Luca saw the mutants. Monstrously misshapen creatures in whom it was impossible to see signs of humanity. One of the dead had six legs and four arms, and some sort of rot oozed from the body. The scythe-like nails on its fingers and toes were longer than a grown man’s hand.
“We’re lucky these were ordinary mutants. Probably first-generation, or exiles,” Captain Tarson said. He was from the North himself, which was why Hector had sent him to lead the emperor’s guard. “The supers don’t come here, they’re happy enough at Shelter.”
“Supers?” Ma Ju Ro asked.
“Supermutants, your majesty,” Tarson clarified. “The high shamans of the Wastelands continually make selections. The most powerful and smartest are bred, those who pass the challenges become supers, and from them the leaders are chosen.
Selection, Luca thought. Once I’m done with Rezsinius and the South, I’ll need to deal with the Wastelands. Maybe we can live in peace with the mutants?
The Wastelands occupied the entire central section of the Empire, sending its venomous tentacles into the clean lands: the capital West, the fertile North and the desert, but rich and hot South. The West of the Empire was overgrown with impenetrable ancient forests, and not only did it teem with deadly beasts, it was also covered in a mist of poisonous acid fumes.
Man couldn’t live there, but the lands were raided for wood and the special fruits of the Tassurian trees which were later boiled down to make drugs. But even the mutants didn’t live in the center of the Wastelands. Two-horns’ curse at the Core was so strong that even the dwellers of the Wastelands rotted alive there, throwing up their innards.
“Well, at least that’s how it was when I was a boy,” the captain said. “My father told me tales, he was a guard on the Wastelands border in his day...”
Everyone listened to Tarson with interest. The wounded were bandaged, they’d almost passed through the dangerous leg of the journey, so now they merely enjoyed an unusual journey. But it was too soon to relax.
The arrows turned out to be poisoned. By the evening, the three wounded fell into a fever, spitting up brown liquid with the contents of their stomach. Then, one after another died in convulsions.
Ma Ju Ro rushed to help, but failed. It took more time to find and create an antidote than the victims had left to live. The problem was his negative Tsoui balance. After Luca’s bloodbath on the pirate ship, the Wheel had penalized him heavily.
Tsoui points: -41. Current balance: −18.
Negative Tsoui balance!
Punishment for traveler Luca’Onegut until zero or positive Tsoui point balance is achieved:
— Wheel Energy regeneration slowed by 1000%
— Metamorphosis talent effectiveness reduced
Swearing, Luca still prepared an antidote just in case, and saved it in his internal reservoir.
The antidote came in handy very soon. Rushing to leave these apparently lifeless, but as it turned out entirely inhabited lands by nightfall, they galloped into a suspiciously quiet narrow pass between two cliffs jutting out like fangs.
“Stop!” Weasel shouted, the first to notice something was wrong.
The leading guard suddenly fell chest-deep into the ground, and a second sank after him into the unnatural earth. The others managed to rein in their horses.
Both the trapped guards howled in anguish. After determining the edge of the anomaly, the captain threw a long rope to his people, and managed to pull both out of the pit. By then, nothing was left of their equipment; their clothes were turned to rags and their plate armor hissed with a vile yellow smoke. Blood streamed from innumerable minor wounds. Both the guards were seriously burned up to their chest, their skin peeling off in crimson strips.
The emperor healed them, but not fully, merely neutralizing the same poison that had been on the mutants’ arrows, stopping the burning and injecting them with nano-substances to regenerate their tissues. By habit and for the look of the thing, he continually muttered praise to the Sacred Mother as he healed them.
He managed to amaze everyone except Herdinia, judging by her skeptical glance. She had seen the so-called Sacred Mother, Queen Taira Ra’Ta’Cant, that morning on the television. She was sure that no prayer in her name could heal such wounds unless the patient was in a medical capsule.
“Is this how you healed mom?” Kora whispered.
Luca nodded and sent her sister to the guards for protection. He himself went with Tarson and Kane to look at the obstacle.
The basin was just ten feet wide. The cliffs prevented them from going around it. Carefully investigating a drop of the liquid from the armor of one of the victims, Luca realized what it was. The pass between the cliffs was covered by a perfectly rectangular reservoir indistinguishable from the surrounding ground. It wasn’t filled with water, but acid.
It was home to snake-like creatures with an extremely venomous bite. They were what had chewed up the guards.
Tarson muttered that if they returned to the sea, then they could find another path, but right now they were only three hours from the closest lands of the barons.
“Put the wounded in the carts and send them back to the ship with six guards. Tell everyone else to mount up. We’re going to jump over the acid pit and reach the castle walls by dusk.”
After a short argument, it was done. Tarson and Kane put the girls on their horses, mounted behind them. It’s a good thing I’ve lost some weight, Luca thought as he looked at the deadly acid puddle beneath his jumping horse.
They reached the castle of Baron Rasmus after dusk, in the darkness. An escort met them and they were accompanied along the rest of their path by people with torches, shouting cries of welcome to the emperor.
The baron had been informed of his coming the day before, and had made preparations. Ma Ju Ro was welcomed with festive lights, wreaths, the piercing melodies of northern songs, and tables creaking under the weight of delicacies.
The other barons were expected to arrive by lunchtime the following day, and until then there was a little time to relax from the long journey. After giving the baron his due for his hospitality and talking to him and his family, Ma Ju Ro pleaded tiredness and went to rest in the chambers given to him by the castle’s lord.
After midnight, he heard a quiet knock on the door. It was Herdinia.
This time they didn’t hold back, and gave in to their passion with an ardor known only to those truly in love and together for the first time.
Blood of Fate (World 99 Book #1): LitRPG Wuxia Series Page 34
