The Second Archon war: Imperatrix Umberosa 20

Imperatrix Umberosa 20: The Prophet’s Storm 

Holding up the gem-like object, Eidolon frowned at it. From all appearances, it was an ordinary Cryo Vision. It felt cold to the touch, and while he couldn’t sense the Elemental Energy, Doctor Mother was inspecting what looked like a Dendro Vision, taking notes as she did so. 

“Remarkable. There is something different about this one, but yes, I can sense the elemental energy within it. You say this will grant anyone Vision Powers, anyone at all?” Doctor Mother asked, looking up across the table. 

Anatoly smiled, steeping his fingers before him like some sort of cliche anime villain. “Indeed it will. These…are Delusions.” 

Eidolon processed that, then snorted. “Because the real one is a Vision, so if you take up one of these, you’re Deluded? The Tsaritsa does seem to have a flair for theatrics.”

“Considering the actions of the Raiden Shogun, Venti, and even Lesser Lord Kusinali, I think a predisposition towards the dramatical might be an inherent Archon trait,” Doctor Mother said, setting down the counterfeit Vision. “These are indeed fascinating. Care to share how these are manufactured?”

“Typically in such a negotiation, that sort of information would be highly privileged,” the former oligarch said with a chill smile, and Eidolon suppressed his irritation at the man’s smug smirk. “However, in this case, it will do my position no harm to tell you clearly: They are made from the fragments of a dead god.” 

“What, did you loot the relics of a saint from one of the churches that have turned their coats?” Eidolon demanded. He was more than a little angered that the Tsaritsa was expelling and persecuting Christians, to a degree that not even the Raiden Shogun had ever done so, but then again, there were few if any Latter Day Saints in Russia. What happened to Orthodox apostates wasn’t Eidolon’s concern. 

Anatoly’s expression flickered, and Eidolon’s current Thinker suite reached several conclusions. The first was that his barb had struck a delicate nerve and that they WERE using Orthodox reliquarys for something. The second was that it had nothing to do with these so-called Delusions. 

“Come now, Eidolon. You know perfectly well what I mean by a dead god. After all, you’re the ones holding her remains. That is the entire purpose of this negotiation, after all,” Anatoly said, extending a hand, palm up. “Those same remains are the source of your own powers. Is it so strange they could be turned to other purposes?” 

“I suppose not,” Eidolon said, and this time his powers indicated that not only was Anatoly telling the truth, but he really did believe that the Garden of Flesh was real, and he was far more intimately familiar with how the bequeathing of powers worked than anyone outside of Cauldron’s inner circle had any right to be. 

“But we have yet to give you any vials. How then did you gain access to this?” Doctor Mother asked, but Eidolon thought both of them had a sneaking suspicion of just how this had been accomplished. 

“Come now. You’re the ones who sold the Vials to Vasili and his Red Gauntlet minions,” Anatoly said with a cold smile. “But do not worry. We do not blame you. It happened well before the Tsarita’s arrival, and you had no way of knowing that Archons even existed.”

“But how do Delusions stem from what you call the remains of a dead god?” Doctor Mother pressed. 

Anatoly spread his hands. “They are manufactured by the Tsaritsa herself. As she is a god, she has arts that no mortal mind can comprehend. However…if you are willing to work with us… she might be willing to share some of her techniques.” 

Eidolon and Doctor Mother exchanged looks. For his part, Eidolon’s mind was drawn to the Raiden Gokaden. Those blades were something more than even tinkertech. The weapons and arms that came out of Japan these days were so far beyond anything that any other nation could produce, or even any Tinker as good as someone like Hero was, that they were worth far beyond their weight in gold. 

Cauldron had obtained several blades and even a working Kairagi armor. Even their best Thinkers and Tinkers still hadn’t been able to fully puzzle out the closely guarded secrets of Japanese manufacturing, despite the things being mass-produced by the Japanese. 

Even if Archons were false gods, they were beings of immeasurable power. Perhaps not on the same level as an Entity like Scion, but so far beyond current human ability, even with Visions and Shards, that gaining access to even a glimmer of their ability was well worth Cauldron’s investment. 

“So, what do you wish for in exchange for this knowledge?” Doctor Mother asked, scribbling more notes on her pad. 

“Nothing too onerous: we wish for access to the remains of the dead god, and to form a joint research project that will allow both our groups to find the tools necessary to one day cast down the Sustainer of Heavenly Principles and break his cycle,” Anatoly said bluntly. 

“Then the Tsaritsa has seen the End of the World as well?” Eidolon asked, frowning at this naked declaration of war against Scion. Not that he disagreed with the sentiment, but Anatoly was being most incautious. 

“Of course. Why do you think she instantly attacked the false god when she first arrived upon this world? In her Love, she wishes to rid humanity of the demonic parasite that would enslave and destroy her beloved children,” Anatoly said. 

“And how much time does she predict we have to prepare for this?” Doctor Mother asked. 

Anatoly laughed bitterly. “Who can say? She will only tell me ‘little time,’ which to an ageless immortal such as her, could be as long as a century or as soon as tomorrow. Either way, the need is pressing, for even if we have years, to overcome Heaven’s Tyranny, we have much work to do. We shall have need of all the weapons we can forge if we wish to save the world.”

Interesting. Eidolon’s abilities were telling him that for this part, Anatoly was parroting lines he didn’t truly believe, at least not fully. He was a true zealot for the Tsaritsa and her cause, but he didn’t seem to find the end of the world as a pressing concern. He did want to cast down Scion, but more because he represented a limit to the Tsaritsa’s, and therefore Anatoly’s, power. 

That was largely irrelevant, however. Whether or not Anatoly did really believe that Armageddon was coming, it surely was. There would be a great and final battle for the salvation of Mankind, and Eidolon would need to be there to lead the charge. Having the Tsaritsa as an ally…well, that wouldn’t hurt. It would be far more preferable than having her as a foe. 

One alien threat at a time. First Scion, then, in the aftermath, the Archons. Humanity would be free, one day, and it would be Eidolon who was their Savior. It had to be. 

“I think we can work out something,” Doctor Mother said. “But this will be tightly controlled. Knowledge of the Garden is highly restricted. Forget about access. We can’t just open this up to anyone.” 

“Of course. The current plan is only for Harbingers and high-level scientists selected by a joint committee to visit your site. The same would be true for your operatives that we train at our own facility,” Anatoly said, drawing out several documents. “We have a propose prepared already.” 

Eidolon took the papers, scanning them quickly before passing them to Doctor Mother, who pursed her lips and began carefully reading them. They wouldn’t come to an agreement today of course, but they would reach one soon, of that he was certain. 

At last, even he had to admit there seemed to be a glimmer of hope in the future. He caressed the Delusion in his hands, and felt the trembling potential within. 

And at last, he had a path to becoming Worthy. The next time an Endbringer appeared, there would be a far different outcome. 

It had taken 12 weeks of grueling travel, but at last, Kenichi had arrived in Seoul. The first time he’d come south, he’d bypassed the capital of the Unified Republic, heading south along the East coast through Goseong-gun, then to Busan and back up through the heartland to the West Coast to Gunsan-si, and now back to the largest city. 

And once he was done with Seoul, he could shake the dust off his feet of his accursed land and return to Japan to watch these Korean dogs fall before the Tsaritsa. 

As he walked, Kenichi’s worn sandals flapped against the asphalt of the road, his calloused feet feeling as though they were carved from wood. His hair and beard were long and unkept, with streaks of white and grey running through them now. His face was weather-beaten and sunburnt after three months on the road, and his voice was husky and raw. 

While he had begun this journey alone, he no longer traveled alone, much to his irritation. He had acquired more than a dozen very much unwanted ‘disciples’ that followed after him, and the road itself was lined with watchers who had come to see the Lightning Prophet. Many put out offerings as he watched by, or cried out for him to give them some word of wisdom. 

Kenichi ignored them. He had only one goal left in mind, and that was to preach on the streets of Seoul itself. 

He was only a few kilometers from the city when a procession of black SUVs pulled out, and men in suits piled out. Kenichi made to just walk around them, until one man stepped forward and bowed deeply. “I am President Lee Hun-jai. Please, honored Prophet. Will you allow us to escort you to the Stadium we have prepared for you?”

That made Kenichi pause, turning to face the man who was still bowing to him, along with most of the others, save for his security detail. “You have a place for my preaching ready?”

“Of course. The people have anxiously awaited your coming, to hear the words of the Electro Archon,” the President said, straightening himself, but still speaking respectfully. 

“I must walk there, as was decreed by the Raiden Shogun. But I will speak when I arrive there,” Kenichi said. 

The president nodded, and then to Kenichi’s mild surprise, fell in with those morons who kept following him around, along with what looked like several other important government officials. Kenichi almost barked at them to go away, but it wasn’t worth the effort. 

He was so close to being done. 

The closer Kenichi drew to Seoul, the larger the crowds grew. They didn’t cheer is arrival; the atmosphere was somber, almost funerary. Several fools cried out, swearing loyalty to the Raiden Shogun and begging for her protection, either from the Tsaritsa or Maou the Golden, but Kenichi ignored him. They were unworthy. Only Japan would be preserved in perfect Eternity. 

As he walked through the city, the dark clouds overhead reflected Kenichi’s black mood. The crowds murmured at this clear display of the Raiden Shogun’s displeasure. Kenichi smiled grimly. These fools would see her power, but it was too late for them to abase themselves and swear to her. Kenichi had been there when she had first revealed herself, and he knew the Raiden Shogun to be a fickle god. 

When he approached the stadium, police had to clear a path for Kenichi and the trailing government officials through the massive crowds. He would have happily shoved his way through, but at least the clear path meant he could move more quickly. The Stadium itself was the Seoul Olympic Stadium, constructed years ago, when Parahumans had been barely more than a rumor, and not even the Demon Beasts had appeared yet. 

A relic of a bygone era. One that Kenichi was glad had passed. Now as the age of the Archons, ushered in by Raiden’s miraculous appearance. These poor fools had been left behind, as had so much of humanity. They had been…unworthy. 

Inside, the stadium was packed to maximum capacity, a sea of humanity crowded in from the highest bleachers to the packed field. Kenichi, followed by the President, made his way to a stage at the center. Microphones and cameras were set up for him already, but Kenichi ignored them. 

He slowly turned in a circle, looking out at those around him. There was no need to demand silence, not that he would have bothered. It nearly felt as though the stadium was empty, despite the massive crowd. The silence was oppressive, like a thunderstorm waiting to break loose in all its wrath upon the land. 

Good. Soon, they would learn to fear the Lightning’s Glow. 

From his position atop the stage, with the President and his entourage waiting respectfully behind him, Kenichi raised his arms and began to bellow his message. 

“People of Korea! Repent! The time of your destruction is near at hand! From the North, the Tsaritsa and her endless barbarian hordes gather, ready to gobble up all the land before them! Long has Russia coveted Korean lands, and soon its god will covet your people as well!”

There were moans and weeping, but Kenichi ignored the noise and pressed on. What did he care if these fools heard him? What mattered was that the message was delivered as he had been ordered.

“And from Heaven itself, Muao the Golden sits, waiting to pour out his wrath upon these lands! You think his destruction of your power plants was severe? He is cruel! He finds you UNWORTHY! And you are as ants before him! He will scour you from the world in an instant should you offend him!” 

“What must we do?” a quiet voice asked, amplified by the microphones. 

Kenichi turned to see a distraught President, looking at him pleadingly. He leveled his finger at the man. “Repent! And pray to the Raiden Shogun! Perhaps her Eminence will consent to let you lick the scraps from her table. Grovel before her like dogs, and beg that she will shelter you from this coming storm! Where are your shrines!? Where are your offerings?! She asks you, WHO IS YOUR GOD!? Because only the Raiden Shogun could possibly turn aside the destruction that awaits you.”

And with that, Kenichi felt something lift. The President spoke to him again, but the words were pure gibberish. Tears leaked down Kenichi’s face, and he grinned. Stumbling, he nearly fell off the stage, then staggered to the exit. He was free of his curse. He could no longer feel the drive in his very soul to spread the word of the Raiden Shogun, could no longer understand the voices that cried out to him in Korean. 

It took a few hours, and it was well after dark when he managed it, but Kenichi made his way out of Seoul. He found a hill from which he could see the distant lights of the city, and sat down there. His apprentices tried to bring him food and shelter, but he batted them aside. He couldn’t understand what they were saying anyway. 

He wasn’t quite sure what he expected. Perhaps the Raiden Shogun would unleash the Musou no Hitotachi and wipe Seoul from existence. Or perhaps an Endbringer would appear and destroy them. Was it time for one of those beasts to arise? Kenichi had no idea. Nor did it matter.

For three days, he sat there, waiting for something to happen, eating only a little rice and drinking only water. On the third day, a strange eclipse occurred. The Moon had appeared in the daytime sky, only for it to be occluded, an Electro Symbol appearing upon it. Seeing that, Kenichi had smirked, and settled in for the righteous smiting of the foolish Koreans. 

Instead, his supposed followers babbled excitedly at him, dancing about and going so far as try to hug him. He was confused, and demanded to know why, what had happened? 

One of the idiots spoke Japanese, and excitedly babbled, “She has accepted us! She will protect Korea! Look!” 

A small TV was brought to Kenichi, and what he saw next left him numb with disbelief. 

Minutes after he had left, the President of Korea had turned to his people and asked them, “Will we, the people of Korea, accept the Raiden Shogun as our god? For centuries, Japan has been our enemy, and her people were those we hated for the wars they waged and the oppression we suffered at their hands.

“But the world has changed, and things are different. When Maou the Golden attempted to destroy us, it was the Raiden Shogun who sent her dragons to save us, who planted  Thunder Sakura Trees in our lands, at the cost of her own, to provide us with power. 

“Tomorrow, we will hold a vote across all of Korea. Will we take Narukami Shintoism as our national religion? Will we accept the Raiden Shogun as our god? This is not a decision the government can make. It is up to the people.”

“Fool,” Kenichi snorted. “You can’t vote on a god.”

“Just watch, Honored Prophet,” his supposed disciple said excitedly. “Look!” 

There were then news reals of the election. As Kenichi had suspected, there were protests. He’d already encountered Korean Christians and had nearly been beaten to death by them once. They’d at least tried, but his body had glowed with lightning, and his wounds were knitted faster than they could be inflicted. They had fled, and while there had been more attempts later, none had done more than inconvenience him. 

The vote had taken a full day, and the next day, the results had been counted. Apparently, they’d already set up the polling stations, all throughout the North and the South. 

To Kenichi’s shock and horror, the people of Korea had overwhelmingly voted to adopt the Raiden Shogun as their god. The final result with more than 90% voter turnout had been 72% in favor, 23% against, 4% undecided. The very moment that the President had announced the results, a Thunder Sakura tree had bloomed in the heart of Seoul, right in front of the Yongsan Presidential Office. 

And along with the tree, Tsukoyomi Raiden had appeared.

PEOPLE OF KOREA. MY MOTHER HAS HEARD YOUR PRAYERS. I HAVE HEARD YOUR PRAYERS. FEAR NOT: I HAVE BEEN SENT TO PROTECT YOU AS YOUR GOD. 

Tsukoyomi had drawn an ornate polearm, straight out from between her breasts, much like her mother. 

TO YOU, I SHALL BE DALNIM. FOR WHERE MY MOTHER IS THE LIGHTNING’S GLOW, I AM HER SHADOW. I AM THE MOON. 

It had been at that moment that the eclipse had occurred, moon appearing in the sky over South Korea, despite it having previously been on the other side of the world. A slow occlusion had occurred, as the stylized face of the Raiden Shogun had appeared on the surface. As the shadow had fallen, the features had shifted to that of Tsukoyomi, now Dalnim. When the full surface had been hidden, save for the glowing outline, it had flashed once, then faded slightly, though even then, the faint purple lines of Raiden’s elder daughter could be seen. 

Indeed, in the night sky over the Americas, the same occlusion of the real Moon had occurred, despite no eclipse being predicted. In a move scientists could not explain, the very surface of the moon had altered to show the features of a young woman. From that day onward, when the surface of the moon was illuminated, the features of the Raiden Shogun were visible. But when the shadows fell, it was her daughter’s face that could be seen from Earth. 

Earth Bet had seen the birth of its first god. But Dalnim Raiden would not be the last. 

At the time, Kenichi did not consider the import. Instead, he was stunned, completely thunderstruck for several minutes. When he finally did come out of his stupor, he yelled and raged at those around him, even picking up sticks and rocks and throwing them at his followers until they fled.

Then, Kenichi sat on the hill, and raged at the heavens. 

“How could you do this?! How could you say that they are worthy!? Is this your Eternity!? You promised Eternity to Japan! Not to Korea, or anywhere else on the world! How can you abandon us and your duty!” 

Though the Storm itself speaks to you, you do not heed the Thunder’s Call, answering instead to your own Vision. 

At last, hearing the voice of his god again, Kenichi felt a surge of triumph, but also anger. “You are the only true god! The god of Japan! You saved us in our hour of need, but we are the ones who support you! Without Japan, without me, what even are you!?”

Even when your master rejects you and the world spurns you, you will not stray from your Ambition of a timeless land.

“Yes, Japan should be timeless! Unchanging amidst the storm of the world! You came to call us back to what we should be! Why waste your time with this others?! They are not worthy of you!” Kenichi cried to the swirling storm within himself. 

Let the Lightnings come and the gods themselves reject you, Son of Eternity. 

In a flash, a Vision appeared in Kenichi’s outstretched hand. He stared at it for a moment, then hurled it to the ground in a towering rage. 

Then he hastily picked it back up and apologized to the Raiden Shogun, and sat down and laughed. Despite everything he’d done, despite his attempts to make the world align to his Vision, what use was his simple mortal will against that of Eternity itself? 

His disciples worked up the courage to come find him a few hours later, but Kenichi simply sat there and ignored them, meditating on Eternity. Perhaps now, he could return to Japan. Just at the moment, however, he was too angry at the Raiden Shogun to attempt that. 

The following morning, Kenichi awoke suddenly when he felt someone patting him down. He sat up, ready to yell at his idiot disciples again, only to see a pair of raccoon dogs freeze. One had been going through his robe pockets while he was still asleep, the other had dumped out the satchel he carried around and was pawing through it. 

“Thieves! Pests! Get away!” Kenichi shouted, standing up. 

To his astonishment, instead of fleeing, the tanuki talked back. 

“Sir, how could you accuse an innocent young girl like me of theft?” the female said. Kenichi blinked. It was painfully obvious that she was female, as she had a little miniskirt along with a jacket, both in black and yellow. 

“Yeah, I was just trying to give you a back rub, old man. You looked stiff and sore, sitting there on the ground,” the male said. He just had on a jacket with a longer cut. Both were wearing ballcaps, the male with his forward, the female backward, and both had little baseball bats they were carrying around. 

“Yokai. What are you doing here?” Kenichi asked suspiciously. “Did the Raiden Shogun send you?”

“No, I did. Are my pets misbehaving, again? If they are, I’ll have to…discipline them, fufufufu!” 

Despite the words, the voice was high-pitched, that of a little girl. And indeed, a moment later, a young girl with pink hair in extravagant purple and white priestly robes stepped forward, fanning herself with a paper fan.

Then she tripped over her overly ornate robes and landed flat on her face, which prompted sniggers from the tanuki twins. 

“WHAT WAS THAT?!” the girl snarled, looking up furiously, though her ornate headdress obscured her view. 

Instantly, the two tanuki were at her side, helping her up. “Oh, mistress, we were just weeping at your misfortune!” the girl said. 

“Yes, mistress, so rude, the ground. Bad ground! No tripping Yae Miko!” the boy said, smacking the ground with his baseball bat. 

“Impudent fools. Get off me!’ Yae snarled, and the two tanuki stepped back, looking contrite. 

“Didn’t even have anything good on him,” the girl muttered out of the side of her mouth. 

“Yeah, not even food. What kinda lame-o did we come over here to find?” the boy complained. 

“The boring old kind, that somehow, Her Excellency has seen fit to bless with a Vision. Now quit goofing off and look serious you too!” Yae snapped. 

“”Yes, mistress!”” the tanuki said in stereo, and turned into a pair of greyhaired youths. Thankfully, the boy’s transformation included pants. 

“Lady Yae,” Kenichi said, bowing deeply. “To what do I owe the honor of your visit?” His heart fluttered in his chest. Was he finally being called back to Japan?

“Ei is pleased with your efforts,” Yae sniffed, trying to adjust her dirtied robes and failing miserably. She looked ridiculous, a child playing dress up. But, she was one of the Raiden Shogun’s familiars, and Kenichi would have to tolerate this annoying little brat. 

“Then, I am no longer exiled?” Kenichi ventured. 

“Don’t be ridiculous, you stupid mortal,” Yae barked. She flounced up, and then Kenichi forgot he was dealing with what looked like a six-year-old with fuzzy pink ears, as an enormous kitsune with twin tails of dark flames was circling around him. 

Have you any idea how foolish you have been? This was your chance, Kenichi the Exile, to redeem yourself after your deplorable failure in attempting to assassinate Lord Barbie Toes. And what did you do? 

“Lord…Barbie…?” Kenichi shook his head, even as the two greyhaired teens sniggered in the background. “I did as I was commanded! I brought the word of the Raiden Shogun to Korea, and-”

The Kitsune’s jaws snapped shut milimeters from Kenichi’s nose and he cried out, falling back on his posterior as the yokai loomed over him. And attempted to drive them away from the Raiden Shogun by preaching doom and destruction instead of acting as the goodwill ambassador you were appointed as! 

“I…I was simply trying to…to make them prove they were worthy! To make them see how generous-”

Lie to me, little mortal, and I will dine on your entrails and give your gibbets to Caelus and Stella to make a hot pot with! The fox demon snarled, placing a burning paw atop Kenichi’s chest. The breath whooshed out of him, and he looked to the side to see the Tanuki twins had gotten a pair of chef’s hats out, and produced a fire over which they were rigging a large hot pot while licking their lips. 

He swallowed, then felt the rage burn inside him. He clutched at his Vision, and glared up at Yae. “And why shouldn’t I? I, her most loyal and faithful servant, was exiled for trying to get rid of another pretender god! How was I to know she simply wanted to talk to the drunken fool instead of eliminate him?! If me, her most loyal follower wasn’t worthy, how could these Korean dogs be worthy!?”

You stupid, arrogant, selfish little man, the kitsune laughed. What makes you think any of you pathetic mortals are worthy of the Raiden Shogun’s protection? You think you are worthy because you are Japanese? Please. The Raiden Shogun could have easily formed a bond with the Koreans, or the Filipinos, or even the most ignorant peasants from Africa, and they would be just as deserving of her Divine Blessing as anyone else.

“But, we of Japan are the Chosen of Eternity! It is we who-”

Who were saved from having our little islands sunken beneath the waves by the Demon Beast Leviathan by the Grace of her Excellency, the Supreme Otaku, Yae said, sounding amused now as she cocked her head to one side. What, exactly, did you do to deserve her? Try to kill her several times because you couldn’t see how she was your savior? Hmm, yes, very worthy. 

“Do not insult her Excellency, fox! Or you will taste the Lightning!” Kenichi threatened, and his fist crackled with Lightning. 

The muzzle that was shoved his face dripped sparks as the Divine High Priestess of the Narukami Shrine laughed at him, and Kenichi nearly wet himself. Oh, mortal. I would love to see you try. Ei might have decided to spare you, but I certainly would love the excuse to kill you here and now as an example to upstart mortals who get too big for their own kimonos. So, please. Do attack me. I’ll try not to torture your soul for too long before I devour it.

“I…I apologize,” Kenichi said, nearly wetting himself all over again. 

I apologize…what? The yokai growled.

“I apologize, Lady Yae! Thank you for your benevolence!” Kenichi said through gritted teeth. 

“Hmph.” The shadowy demon vanished, replaced by a pouting little girl. “Well, you’re no fun. Fine. I have business to attend to. Don’t cause any more trouble, or it will be a race between Mushu, Keiga, myself, and Princess Tsu, or whatever she’s calling herself now, to see who can smite you first. Ei said you’re out of chances, and even Ami is exasperated with you. Come, minions. Let’s go.”

“You mean we can’t cook him? But I’m hungry,” Stelle whined, holding up the ladle she was using to stir the hotpot.

“Eh, let’s go, this place is boring,” Caelus said, his chef’s hat and the fire vanishing, though the hot pot stayed floating in mid-air. “I saw some promising trash cans on the way here! I think I smelled fried chicken! The Korean kind is WAY better than katsu!” 

“Really? Well, if you find some, give me half,” Yae ordered. “I can’t properly dumpster dive in these robes. We’ll go out later and find some good dumpsters.”

“You…dig through trash cans?” Kenichi said in disbelief. 

“Of course!” Stelle said, her own chef’s hat disappearing with a pop. “That’s where humans put all the really good stuff.”

“Did you know some people don’t even eat the crusts on pizza? That’s the best part!” Caelus said, rubbing his belly. 

Yae nodded, wiping a bit of drool with her long sleeve.“Yes, such wasteful creatures. Well, back to the limo. We need to go meet with President Lee Hun-jai and his cabinet to discuss the establishment of an official shrine system in Korea.”

“Wait!” Kenichi said as the Yokai trundled off. The paused, turning to look at him with clear disgust in their faces. As if they weren’t the ones talking about getting their dinners from trash cans. “What about my exile?”

“Are you stupid?” Stelle asked. She looked at Yae as Caelus rolled his eyes and nodded. “I think he’s stupid.” 

“You are officially exiled to Korea for the rest of your days,” Yae said slowly, clearly annunciating each word as though speaking to a small child. “If myself or any of the others see you, we will kill you. And depending on which of it is, may or may not eat you afterward.” 

“But, I…I…” tears of rage filled Kenichi’s eyes. He had done what he was asked!

“If you’d done your job any more poorly, you would have had a visit from Kokusho, not me. But somehow, Ei knew that you’d behave this way, and still sent you. I guess she realized that despite your best efforts, you’d manage to convince the Korean people they needed her. Though her flaws are myriad, the world’s worst chef does seem to know how to accomplish her goals. Even if she is absolutely exasperating in the process,” Yae said with a theatrical sigh. 

Then she simply left the stunned Kenichi, once more sitting silently upon his hilltop. In time, his disciples would return, and Kenichi would demand they build a shrine to the Raiden Shogun on the hill. It would end up becoming one of the most prominent shrines in all of Korea, with Kenichi as the head priest, ministering to the spiritual needs of the people of this foreign land for the rest of his life.

He did an excellent job and hated every moment of it. 

Ei found the entire thing to be the best joke she’d seen in a century and a half. 

Author’s Note:

Next chapter, it’s Samsara Time, baby.