II-105 After

Hm? Kidnapping? No, I have not been kidnapping anyone. That’s the wrong term for what I have been doing.

What we have taken are prisoners of war for the Drowned Sky Sect. And rightfully so. I have rightfully captured them in the Base through proper combat, and so they are mine.

What am I doing with them? Well, many things. Mostly educational. No, you cannot see them. And if the Guilds want any of them back, they can pay me in Sins or Significance. The same arrangement they have with any other Circle.

Hm. Missing Counts? I would not know anything about that. Truly, it is insulting to the Circles to imagine they would allow some outside party—some pitiful upstart to capture their great leaders. Mind your words. I have not disrespected them so. Do not accuse me of doing such things.

Anyway. I must return to overseeing my training camp. If you have any other questions, please forward them to my Sect Spider, Mr. Rafael. He will be sure to ignore them on my behalf.

-Wei An Wei’s response to accusations of him developing “concentration camps for skill grinding”

II-105

After

In the aftermath of Wei’s little stunt at the Old Man’s gala, he and his sect retreated back to the Unblossomed for some much needed rest. Here was the worst thing about politics—getting involved in high society inflicted more stress than active combat. Even now, his disciples were worried and wary, wondering if the Circle of Pride was going to come for them now.

Not everyone was miserable though. Agnesia and Rafael were incandescent with joy. The former was finally going to seek out a Specialization Evolution while the latter hummed all manner of songs about butchering the capitalist pig-dogs. Ellena, meanwhile, kept her thoughts to herself until they finally returned home.

Wei allowed everyone some personal time for respite. It would be good for all of the outer court to decompress. Meanwhile, he had a debriefing with those he trusted the most. Them, and Bishop—who gleefully barged into Seever’s former office to half-complain, half-congratulate Wei on his most successful murders yet.

“You little motherfucker,” Bishop said, half-sneering, half-laughing. He had a cigar already lit and wagged his finger at Wei as he walked in. “You mad sonnabitch.”

“Do not speak of my mother that way,” Wei said, narrowing his eyes.

Bishop ignored him. “You have any idea how much of a shitshow this is gonna cause? The fireworks are gonna be wild. Insane. Doing that right inside the Circle. Chucking Lien’s body out like it was just trash.” The Trespasser whistled. “You got balls. Balls, not a lot of brain, but a whole lot of motherfucking fight! How did you pull that shit off?”

Wei eyed Mourning. “Not alone, in the end. But she was a fool to come to the Final End. And her husband and the Collectress weren’t ready for another hunter to come seeking them. They have lived coddled lives for too long. They didn’t anticipate their own deaths.”

“Most people don’t anticipate being killed in battle up in the Heights,” Bishop said. “Because it’s the Heights. Them motherfucks should have sued you.”

“I doubt it would have worked in the Final End,” Wei said. “The Tribulators are powerful, but they are feeble yet before the Hound. And they had little time as well.” Wei flicked his hand and conjured his new skeletal rifle for Bishop to see. “The Duke was not anticipating his end by more mundane means.”

Bishop froze mid-step and rushed toward Wei, taking the gun out of the young master’s hands. “This has a description.”

“That it does,” Wei replied.

The Trespasser popped the bullet out and cursed. “Shit. This is—”

“Yes. The Hound saw fit that I obtain a reward. I lost Kalrus’ gun during the process of the mission. But something better was returned to me.”

“Man, you’re a lucky little nepo baby, you know what? Everyone’s rolling over backward to kiss your ass.”

“And more will be doing that soon when I start making offers to Advance their Aspects.” Wei let his System come aglow around him, and he felt himself laden with shards. “I have taken much from my enemies and gained counsel from my mother. It is time for my Concepts to ascend. But not only those, but my sect as a whole as well. We are to be meek or passive no longer.”

“Great. Finally.” Agnesia grinned, and there was a feral quality to her gaze. “We’re gonna be butchering the bastards instead of being the ones getting butchered.”

Ellena eyed her daughter warily, but said nothing about Agnesia’s growing bloodlust.

“Indeed,” Wei said, keeping his quartermaster in consideration. “More than that, we will be expanding our operations and recruiting more people of great potential.” He gestured at Vendrian and Mourning who were now included in his inner council. “Some of you have already met.”

The Scion of Death eyed the others warily and gave them a gruff nod. He was bouncing on his feet, his posture building with anxiety and energy. Wei knew why. The man was a father now, and wanted to return to his son.

This led to the next thing Wei wanted to say. “But it is not only them. A fraction within the Circle of Wrath are interested in working with us. They wish to be more than the limits placed upon them by their Circle, and yearn to discover greater heights of possibility alongside us. Alongside me.” Wei smirked with growing pride. “I have negotiated a few things with them. We will be getting more of these guns soon. I will be handing them out for our lesser members. It will grant them some greater means of defense—but it will function as a warning against enemies rather than a crutch.”

Bishop came back to return Wei his gun, but he gestured for the man to show Agnesia as well. As the Trespasser walked over and handed the weapon to the princess, she frowned as she took the rifle in hand. “It feels… odd. I have never seen a powder gun like this before.”

“It is not a powder gun,” Wei said. “It is a rifle.”

“A rifle?” She said, blinking. “How does it work?”

Wei grinned. “I’ll show you later. I’ll show everyone. For now, understand that this will allow you to kill someone’s spirit.” His tone grew severe. “Do not point it at yourself. And do not let the bullet hit you. It is a death sentence for almost anyone.”

“Almost?” Ellena said.

“It depends on where you are hit as a Trespasser. It still bleeds them. Leaves terrible wounds. But they can survive it if struck in the arm.”

“Bastards,” Agnesia muttered. “Everything is just so…” She stopped and winced. “Ah, sorry, Rafael. Master Bishop.”

“No, it’s fine,” Rafael said. “It is a terrible thing, to be a part of a class system without your own consent?”

“Hm? You have a System?” Wei said.

“I—no, I’ll explain more of the literature to you later, Wei,” Rafael elaborated.

“Tell me more things about how the pig-dogs need to be exterminated. I like that. I do not like the landlords dying. That makes little sense to me.”

“You just need more context.”

“My current context is that I own land and will kill anyone who tries to take it from me. A warrior will not be stolen from.”

Rafael nodded, though he didn’t really register what Wei said. “You just need more context…”

“Moving on… Master Bishop,” Wei said. “We must create a portal leading to the Base. Specifically connected to General MacArthur’s forward operating position.”

John Bishop shook his head at that. “I can get you a safe rift nearby set up. But a direct connection is a hell no from me, kid.”

“Hm? You still think they might betray me? Try to use this opportunity to invade our space? But we are in the Heights.”

“Nah, not that. But… spies are everywhere. And it won’t take much for someone to subvert a single soldier, walk them through, and then overload their spirit to do a little bit a damage to your newly rising sect? Hell, after what you just pulled, I would bet that every last Count and higher will be seeking to cut you down to size.”

Wei considered that and nodded. “Your advice is wise. I thank you. There is much I still have to learn regarding the grander strategies.”

Bishop was about to open his mouth, then paused. “I—you feeling alright?”

“Yes. Better. I spoke to my mother again after slaying Lien. She made certain things clearer for me, though not everything she recommended will be easy to accept.” Wei’s mind went bitter as he thought about his father. “But I need much more perspective when it comes to running my sect. I have been living my life as a warrior. Now, I must learn how to lead. And that does not happen alone and without allies.”

The Trespasser took a drag from his cigar. “Fucking kids sure do grow up fast these days. Yeah. Fine. I’ll get you set up as soon as I can. Sarah and the others might want to have another sit-down with you again. Right now, what you achieved might have exceeded their expected scope of performance. Shit, John Doe might want a piece of you tomorrow.”

Ah. Another thing Wei had been looking forward to. But despite how much he wanted to test the human Fighter, there were other things that took precedent. “Though that excites me, he must wait till the end of the week. I have delayed Agnesia’s progress long enough. Which reminds me: I hereby name everyone in this room inner court disciples to the Drowned Sky Sect. Take pride in knowing that I will do everything to make sure everyone here becomes dreaded powers beyond peer, and that the Circles will come to fear you as much as they fear me.”

The princess was beaming. Rafael muttered to her about all the boar-geese they were going to kill—but that she was one of the good ones, and wouldn’t be included.

Vendrian cleared his throat. “Wei, listen, I love that we’re having this moment—and I’m definitely grateful to be part of an organization that doesn’t run on slavery and torture but—”

“Ah! You wish to see your child and beloved. Apologies. Bishop. If you please. We must descend with utmost haste. And—”

Just then, a pulsing proximity warning passed a notification into his Class. Not only his Class though, but everyone else’s as well. A moment of tension passed through them, but it faded as they tapped into the Oculi surveillance network that Rafael set up. Out at the front door were three people. The first Wei was more than happy to see: It was Roggi, now resembling some kind of mechical bug thing. He was as large as Wei remembered, but gleaming wings of floral bright flapped behind him as he called for the doors to open.

Beside him—dwarfed by him—were two people Wei had no desire to see. The first was the Black Wind Sage, who looked on at Roggi with a stunned expression. The other was his son.

The young master sighed.

“I know Roggi but… Who are the other two?” Agnesia asked.

“Mistakes of birth and circumstance,” Wei spat. “Come. Let us welcome another of our inner disciples back. And see if we can deal with the lice that came with him.”

***

Wei greeted the reshaped Forgekin with a wide embrace and brilliant smile. No longer was Roggi a foul smelling horrible rot-bug. Instead, he was listed as an Alchemized Metamorph. Fundamentally, what this meant was that Roggi was now mostly made of gold, sprayed and vomited streams of molten gold, and lived off of eating gold. Apparently, it was a rare race evolution for a Forgekin, and the Terrible Surgeon with the Lodge offered for free—at the risk of killing Roggi if the surgery went wrong.

Thankfully, everything was well, and the Terrible Surgeon would be spared Wei’s wrath.

No one was going to kill Roggi and get away with it.

As Roggi flexed his wings, Wei saw prismatic patterns dancing through their translucence. The floating bugs that Roggi could summon were also butterflies now—generally, all the rot and waste was turned into something far more aesthetic, and Wei thought Roggi closer to be a being bred between greed and decay.

“Well, so long as you are pleased with your new form, then I shall be as well,” Wei said, patting the Forgekin and laughing.

“Aye,” Roggi said. “Might not be an actual butterfly but… gah, it comes close enough.”

“Ahem. Esteemed senior.” The Black Wind Sage was somewhere behind Roggi’s bulk, and so Wei could not see him. This made it easier to pretend not to hear him either.

“Come in Roggi. And close the door behind you quickly.”

Then, the Black Wind Sage did something shameless. He squeezed between Roggi’s legs with a martial salute and a pleading expression on his face. “Great Patriarch, please, I beg of you—just a moment.”

“A moment has passed!” Wei snapped, before booting the man in the head as lightly as he could. This still caused a blast of force to ripple out, and the Black Wind Sage went sailing well over the steps in leading up to the former Inheritor consulate, and he made a distinctively unmanly noise as he collided with one of the houses below.

“Father!” Wei heard the Black Wind Sage’s son cry out.

“Wei!” Ellena said, horrified at what he just did. “What possessed you to do such a thing?”

“He shamed me and every other Cultivator in existence. He was supposed to fight Slit of Storms!” The young master growled as he waved for Roggi to come in. As the Forgekin stomped past Wei and found himself greeted back the heckles and jeers of his brothers, Wei found his eyes widening to the Black Wind Sage crawling back up the steps with a massive lump on his head.

“No!” Wei said, summoning his lawyer. “Sue them! Sue them now! Get them away from here before they contaminate my sect with shame and weakness.”

“Sure thing boss—” The small demon said. “But for what?”

“Anything! Trespassing!”

“Trespassing it is!”

“Wait, esteemed patriarch—”

The lawsuit when through. A few seconds later, a nest of golden chains swept over both father and son, holding them in place as the doors to the Unblossomed slammed shut. Wei let out a nervous breath. “That was close. Vermin almost slipped in with our golden friend.” Wei shook his head and took in Ellena’s dumbfounded expression. “Apologies. I am shamed on their behalf. Know that most of us are better than they.”

“I—” the former queen said.

“Bishop!” Wei cried aloud. “Let us away! There is someone I am keen to avoid, and so we must descend to the Base!”

***

It took Wei a bit of time to cut a stable path leading from their new spawn point in the Base to MacArthur’s forward operating base, but the expedition this time was far smoother. Especially with the Sinners of Wrath not bombing him with artillery anymore—rather protecting him with more wards and forces.

He received a hero’s welcome as he passed beyond their opening walls again. Trenches filled with cheering soldiers fired their guns into their air, all of them chanting “Zhanny Fucking Cultivator” and “Pai Mei Junior” over and over again. Wei still didn’t get the references, but they seemed happy, and so he accepted things as they were.

Standing behind the trenches just outside the ballistic missile launch silo were another group of people. General MacArthur, Kalrus, William Yu, Aerea, the newly-named baby Justice, and all the slaves Wei saved were gathered and waiting. At such a sight, the young master felt his chest swell with pride.

“Life is good,” Wei said.

“Well this place is horrible,” Ellena said, her gaze haunted. “The way those people were fused to the wires—their screams… how we have to cut them—”

“It is a mercy and an ample source of shards,” Wei said, offering her a soothing statement. “Don’t worry. We will clear them out soon enough. For now, there is much to celebrate, and much to—”

Wei grutned as Vendrian blasted past him, nearly knocking him over. The young master glared at the blurring form of the Scion and shouted. “I know you are very excited about your child, so I will forgive this. But I expect an apology later.”

Vendrian didn’t reply. Wei assumed he heard him.

“You’re likely never getting that apology,” Mourning said, the cracks lining her blade slowly healing. “He doesn’t do that.”

Wei snorted. “We’ll see. But he can have today.” And as he watched Vendrian pick up Aerea, swing her around, and pull his son close to his chest, he grinned. “Hm. Come. Let us all take turns holding the child for good fortune first. That will make discussions better.”