On Astral Tides: From Humble Freelancer To Astral Emperor

Four Hundred And Twenty-One

“We’re out at last.” I said as we left the dungeon of the Sacred Flame, emerging back into the Boundary proper atop mount Atago. Immediately we were greeted by a host of Tengu, many hundreds of them, all watching and waiting with anticipation. I was first out, followed by Arangbō, and on seeing the huge Tengu the cheers were raucous and celebratory. As the rest of our group filtered out, the celebrations continued, until Chen Na came, dragging out the bubble shield containing the cowering Fungbō. It was then that Tarōbō strode forwards, the jewel of his staff starting to glimmer with energy once more.

“I see some new faces. How… puzzling.” He declared sternly. At his words, the Tengu parted, and Prince Shōtoku came running, followed by a surly and quite drunk Yasaka-san. On seeing Tsukiko-san, his eyes went wide, and he bowed, his smile broad and relieved.

“Tsukiko-sama, welcome back. It has been desolate with your absence, Tsukuyomi-jinja has felt so empty, like a spring without blossoms.”

I was a little surprised at his poetic turn of phrase, but Tsukiko-san handled it smoothly. With her bare, uncovered face making her a little self-conscious, so many people looking at her without her veil that served as both shackle and armour to her own self, she let her hair fall across her face, making her more comfortable, before she spoke, her tone gentle.

“Yes, I have missed my home, good Prince. A home I never thought I would see again. But Destiny I thought inviolate, yet hoped was in fact malleable, proved to follow my wishes, not merely my fears.” She paused, and realised the situation was about to change. “Yet now is not the time for our happy reunion. For we have weightier matters to resolve before this day is done.” She glanced at me, her ruby eyes still visible. “The atmosphere is tense.”

She’s right. The Tengu were celebrating to start with, but as the last of us left the rift, with Fungbō imprisoned and Shungbō missing, they’ve realised something is very wrong… They had fallen silent, waiting and watching, the stillness and their red, long-nosed masks giving the array of Tengu an almost funereal air. Only one spoke, and that was Tarōbō, his mighty voice breaking the tense atmosphere.

“Yet the count is short. Where is our Summer South, where is Shungbō?” he asked, and at that moment Fungbō cried out.

“Father, save me! I did nothing wrong! I was mistaken, the dark flame caught me unawares…”

“Shut up, you cowardly betrayer.” Arangbō thumped the shield, the force bubble rippling. “You have no right to petition Great Tarōbō…”

“I do!” he howled. Metal began to form on his skin, and he attacked the force bubble, though it held off the attacks, merely shimmering with a rainbow of aether as it shuddered. The watching Tengu began to talk amongst themselves, looking on with some puzzlement, some loudly proclaiming something must have gone awry.

“You cannot hold me, I am one of the Four Directions, the Autumn West! Byakko, by Byakko I am…”

“Enough!” Tarōbō boomed, slamming down the butt of his staff, and a surge of crimson energies cascaded from him, the very mountain underfoot trembling. “I ask again, where is Shungbō? Where is my son?”

I opened my mouth to speak, but Haanōbō beat me to it. “Dead, father. Dead.” Her faltering words grew harsher as she continued. “But not through battle. The fight was hard, but we all acquitted ourselves with the honour and might of those of mount Atago. Even our guests fought their hardest and…”

“Shut up you worthless fool!” Fungbō began ranting again. “If anyone is to blame, you are, for you…”

“I will not warn you again.” Tarōbō waved his staff, and this time it was targeted at Fungbō, a ripple of aether passing through Chen Na’s barriers, and suddenly Fungbō fell silent, his eyes glazing over, and a great surge of aether was drawn from him, sucked into the jewel on the long wooden staff Tarōbō wielded.

I see. The barriers aren’t flawless. I already know one weakness from Kyoto, and now another… As I thought that, Tarōbō nodded to Haanōbō to continue. “… did you know, Great Tarōbō? Father? About the great dead bear that guards the source of the Flame? It… it was a dreadful foe. Alone, we would have triumphed, but…”

“I knew. Though I do not speak of it easily.” Tarōbō looked at the Prince, whose joy from the return of Tsukiko-san was momentarily suppressed, a guilty look crossing his face. “Mount Atago holds many dark secrets. Hence why the mountain was given into my care, our care. A guilty conscience is a terrible burden. But the bear is dead. What… no, this is irrelevant. Shungbō.”

“The bear may have been dead, but it burned with the corrupted flame, that which he called Lost, giving it a semblance of life.” She nodded at me, continuing.

“That is right. It was a big, powerful monstrosity.” Arangbō agreed. “I myself was wounded, though I would have crushed it given enough time, I am certain. But when our guest here…” he also nodded towards me. “… was unleashing a final flame to finish it off, fire defeating corrupted fire, after making sure we were all safe…” he turned, glaring at the still dazed Fungbō. “… the result was the death of Shungbō, at the hands of our brother. He had held back his strength while we battled with our lives on the line, sowing traps, ready to seize advantage, and this was the fruition of his treacherous plans.” He said venomously, his anger rising again. “Worse, he tried to trick me into blaming Haanōbō and our visitors, urging me to help him kill them. When that failed…”

As Haanōbō and Arangbō took it in turns to describe the duplicity of their brother, the Tengu around us grew restless, while Tarōbō stood immobile, listening carefully, not missing a word. When the two were finished, I spoke.

“I didn’t expect it, I should have. But Shungbō resisted even in death, the Lost Flame having taken over his ruined body. I think you can be proud of how he faced his end. As for judgement…” I paused. “While he tried to kill me and mine, as well as Haanōbō…”

“No mention of me? I am hurt…” Arangbō snorted, humour a briefly soothing balm for the pain and bitterness he felt.

“Arangbō too, of course.” I amended, finding that after our initial poor reception, I had found the huge Tengu easy to talk to. “… what I’m saying is, while Fungbō tried to hurt and kill those I care about, and I find it very hard to forgive him for that… it’s not my friends and family he betrayed and killed. I leave the judging to you.”

“No, Autumn West would never…” one Tengu began, and others echoed him. As the chaos spread, Tarōbō once more brought order, the jewel glowing, soothing the restless, angry crowd, muting their emotions and drawing in aether.

“The proof is here before us. Shungbō is not here.” His eyes were blazing with fury as he surveyed us. Kana hid behind me, unnerved, and I raised my hand.

“Calm yourself, Tarōbō. I understand your anger, but you are upsetting some of us. Reign in your League, and we can resolve this.”

For a moment he glared at me, before, he inclined his head. The pressure dropped, and Kana peeked around me, relieved, while Motoko and Natsumi let out long sighs, clenched fists relaxing.

“Your words hold wisdom. Now…” he gestured with his staff, and the light came back into Fungbō’s eyes. “Autumn West, my son. Speak.”

“Father…” he said urgently. “I was… was…” his mouth worked, trying to force out words, and he looked horrified as he couldn’t. “Yes, I forced Shungbō into the path of… uh…” He bit down, silver and red blood trickling down his chin and dripping from below his shattered mask. “… I should have struck at that useless Haanōbō… no, I… it was not my… I wished they would all die! I am the only one you need, father!” At the words that spilled from his lips, an expression of horror could be seen on the half of his human-like face that was visible, the usual shame of having a bare face forgotten.

“I see. Your words of truth, stripped of your prison of emotions… they speak for you.” Tarōbō intoned, bowing in grief.

“Father, why am I…?” he began, only for me to cut him off.

“It’s obvious, you damn snake…” Kana looked at me reproachfully at that, and I laughed. “Can’t call someone a weasel as an insult, and it seems not a snake either now. Well, you damn coward…” I amended. “…it seems that Tarōbō is bringing out your true feelings, removing the shield of lies you are brandishing. So you might as well tell the truth. We all saw you, and what you did.”

For a moment there was silence, before Fungbō started to laugh. It quickly escalated, until he was roaring bitterly, tears joining the blood on his face. “I was influenced by the flame. It is no lie. The voice in my head, the one I had been hearing for a long time… I should be the one you praise, father!” Words spilled from him in an endless torrent, petty grievances, envy and hatred. He railed against his brothers and Haanōbō, calling her weak, and even cast ire against Tarōbō. “… we are proud, strong! I have always believed in you, Great Tarōbō, but… we should never have allowed this! The Sacred Flame is our charge, our responsibility! Now we seem feeble, pathetic, relying on outsiders. An alliance? I spit on that!” And spit he did, phlegm sizzling on the barrier.

“I see. Are you quite done?” Tarōbō asked, his voice colder than winter. Fungbō shuddered, realising he had gone too far.

“Father, I am sorry. I…” he hung his head, unable to speak.

“Release the barrier.” Tarōbō said to me, and after a moment of hesitation, I nodded at Chen Na. Even if he tries anything, with us all here he’s got no change. Although to be safe… All the girls moved away from him, followed by the confused Kinneka, who had little idea of what was going on. The bubble dissolved into a spray of aether, and he fell to the ground, prostrating himself.

“Great Tarōbō, have mercy. I was weak, I admit it, I fell to the temptation of the flame, but… I am your son!”

“As was Shungbō…” he said, his voice devoid of emotion. Raising his staff high, he slammed it down. “… you fool, my errant son. Do you think I made the decision lightly? When Shōtoku came with them, I was predisposed to despise them…” the Prince shuddered at the contempt. “… yet one by one, you all failed against him.” He looked at me meaningfully, before looking back at the surviving Directions. “Even the others all proved as worthy as any Tengu, and the Flame…” he gestured to the temple, where the flame burned, cleansed, though it had lost a little volume. “… it burns clean again. Besides, I was most wroth with you, Haanōbō of the Winter North.”

She dipped her wings and head in apology. “I have no excuses. I was defeated, despite striking first in ambush, and in battle since I was found wanting.”

“No. Your opponent was simply too much for you.” Tarōbō consoled her. “I should not have given into anger and taken your mask. Now, you have shown your bare face to another, and he has won you through force of battle.” Before the usual protests occurred, he continued. “I too felt the pull of the cursed flames. So I have some little sympathy. You call us weak, yet you have proved weakest of us all. And you slew your own brother, shattered the Directions.”

“I… I am sorry. I will repent…” he said. “Please father. Arangbō, Haanōbō…” he stretched out a hand from his prone position. Arangbō stood there coldly, and Haanōbō stepped backwards, disgusted. “… forgive me! I will make amends!”

“Will that bring back the dead?” I sighed, tired of his whining. What’s worse is, this self-pity must be genuine, under the light of Tarōbō’s staff. “There’s nothing worse than hurting one’s family.”

“Well said.” Tarōbō agreed. “And mount Atago, it is a family. You hate the idea of an alliance with outsiders, my son. As do I. Yet your actions have forced my hand. For the Directions are shattered, our defences much weakened. Now, I pronounce judgement.”

“Judgement? Father, I beg of you, have mercy…” Fungbō crawled in the dirt towards his father.

“Mercy? I am merciful. But…” He flicked his staff, and Fungbō’s shattered mask fell free, revealing his bare face, eyes bloodshot, face wet with snot, sweat, blood and tears. “… I am stone, as unyielding as the mountain that is our home. For there is the fifth Direction. The Centre.”

Raising his staff, further ruby earth element spilled free, shaking the mountain once more. The ground surged, and Fungbō found himself pinned by hands of stone rising from the ground. They prevented his escaping, as Tarōbō began to chant in a low, rumbling voice.

“Great Yellow Dragon, He whose spines are Mountains, one such being Atago, peak of our home, ancient, eternal, I call upon your mighty breath. Stasis, unchanging, immutable, let he who has betrayed the Mountain you bequeathed to us remain sorrowful until he has regretted and atoned his folly and false pride. Petrifying Breath, Sekkai-ka kokyū!”

“No, Great… father, please!” A shimmering yellow and red mist poured out over Fungbō, his hand outstretched piteously, and stone began to sprout over his whole body, until he was nothing more than a statue blending into the mountain. Most of my group watched on impassively, although Kana seemed to take it a bit hard, averting her eyes. Yeah, she’s definitely the most ordinary of us all, and has seen the least cruelty… I took her hand, and she smiled at me a little shakily, as Tarōbō slammed down his staff, breaking the shocked silence.

“I fear we are in no mood for revelry.” He said, his tone level, though my keen ears detected a slight quaver in his voice, hardly surprising after he was forced to punish his son. He’s not dead though. Is that worse? My Eye could see that Fungbō was still alive, frozen into a petrified form.

“But despite our losses… the Sacred Flame, our charge… it burns as eternal as always. And that is worth celebrating. So, we mourn, for loss and foolishness, but we rejoice that our faith remains unbroken. Offer to the flame, and to Atago!”

A wave of uncertain roars and cheers echoed out from the Tengu, their mood complicated, and as Tarōbō lowered his staff I thought I saw the glittering diamond of a tear at the corner of one of his eyes…

********

“Will you be moving back to Tsukuyomi-jinja?” Prince Shōtoku asked, his expression kind. “You have no path to the Mortal world as it stands, Tsukiko-sama. The shrine is humble, but we will make every effort to accommodate you.”

“That’s fine.” Haru said, dipping at the sake mug she held. “If you want that, I’ll have amenities shipped over. But it’s unlikely to be an issue for long. With Akio-kun’s tidal wave of ether he is pulling in, getting a Throne set up for you shouldn’t take too long. Of course…” she leaned forwards conspiratorially, but whispered incredibly loudly. “… I can understand why you might be wary of being under Akio-kun. You have a dear friend, right? Princess Mikasa? It’s always an option to go under her Throne, she should be able to make one too. Although…” her joking tone turned serious. “Honestly, I don’t think there’s anywhere safer than Akio-kun’s Territory at the moment. Even throwing a huge sum my way, which allowed me to consolidate my control over nine tenths of Kyoto and build up a Territory that’s got to be top ten in Japan, he’s still pushing for Rank four.”

“I have no concerns. When I entrusted my burden to him, I accepted this even if he was not the one I was waiting for, for he was the one that was here, offering his hand. To worry now would be hypocrisy. Besides…” her red eyes shone as she looked at me. “…I am still the Diviner. And also simply Tsukiko. I wish to be both. As for Yukiko… yes, I dearly wish to speak to her, and I shall listen to her input. Is that something that can be arranged?” she asked me, and I nodded.

“Yeah. In fact… I think that you need to meet all the Princesses and go through everything with them and us. No matter how minor, any scrap of prophecy, vision or knowledge might be key to our survival.”

“Looks like that British Princess will be visiting again.” Kana said to the others. “I can’t believe the circles I’m moving in. If I’d never have called out to Akio that day… life would have been so different.”

“In our case, we were fortunate Hinata was in the same restaurant as Akio that night.” Motoko pointed out. “While Akio likely would have caught the eyes of the nobility sooner rather than later, our chance might have passed us by.”

“I find it so very interesting.” Bell chuckled. Now that the trials were over, she was rather drunk, enjoying the sweeter sake. “I hear the princess talk, as well as Hyacinth. The mortal world is a fascinating place, it seems. I am jealous, I wish I could go there.”

“You would need to persuade Akio to give you a Throne slot.” Kana smiled. “I think there’s a few ahead of you in the queue, I’m afraid. But maybe if you did manage to persuade him to date you, Bell, you’d get bumped up.”

Listening to the conversation, Daiyu was remaining sober and alert. I met her dark gaze, and she shrugged, a barest movement of her shoulders, and inclined her head towards Tarōbō, who sat on the raised platform, overseeing the muted festivities. “The task is not yet completed. Only a fool would celebrate recklessly and allow the main prize to slip our grasp.”

“Yeah, that’s right. There’s still the duel with Tarōbō.” I agreed. “Though in his grief, I wonder…”

“No, Great Tarōbō carries the weight of the mountain on his shoulders.” Arangbō had wandered over, massive mug and platter of boar in hand, and he slapped me on the back heartily. Haanōbō had followed behind him, her head lowered, violet hair draped over her mask. “He grieves, as do I…” His eyes were hard as he looked at the piteous statue that was trapped Fungbō. “…what a fool. Jealous, pitiful fool. The Directions are only Directions as there are five of us. The Centre is the most important, but the other four… all are required. Idiot.” He slandered him again.

“Father will fight.” Haanōbō said quietly to Daiyu, taking a seat beside her. On seeing my quizzical look, she shrunk in on herself, and it was to Arangbō to speak for her.

“There is much grief here, but… also change. The Directions are broken, visitors including a kami…” he snorted bitterly, looking at the Prince, who was still fawning on Tsukiko-san. “…come to our homes and are honoured guests. The corruption of our Flame is halted, and… I have a new brother.” He slapped me on the back again, making sure to strike hard, and even through my high stats I winced. “For if you claim a sister, then I too am part of the package.”

I just know the bastard is grinning behind that crimson mask. “As long as Haanōbō is happy here again, I’m content. That’ll do.”

“Hardly.” He snorted, offended. “You won, defeated us all. Such can never be taken back. What does it matter? Is little Haanōbō no longer pleasing to you?”

“Brother, please be silent…” she hissed, embarrassed, and I shook my head.

“I think you’re missing the point. Not that it’s important.” I shrugged, gulping down some sake. “So, your father will fight? I don’t think either of us need to prove anything more. An alliance benefits us both, especially now.”

“It is a matter of face.” Daiyu interjected. “As he says, what is said cannot be reneged upon. The words of the powerful shape reality. It is a lesson you should learn. Making reckless proclamations forces us all to carry through. Hence you have to give up on Haanōbō. That matter is settled.” As the Tengu’s white wings dipped in a mixture of shame and embarrassment, Daiyu continued. “Tarōbō is the master of this place. He cannot merely agree an alliance without soothing both his pride and the fears of his subjects. Hence…”

“Hence battle. You are a smart one, little girl.” Arangbō approved. “Strong too. I see you enjoy the company of strong women. A wise man. Flowers are beautiful, but those without thorns are destined to fade in time.” he said to me, amused.

The two Tengu sat with us, and we ate and drank together, making small talk, until Tsukiko-san finally broached the subject I had been wanting to talk about since earlier. “Prince Shōtoku, I ask you… Akio, he discovered a kamuy corpse under the mountain, and the site of the Sacred Flame… it was not of the kami.”

At those words we were all listening closely, and I was surprised to see the normally impeccably composed Prince falter. “I… would not know…” he began, but Tsukiko-san was firm.

“Please do not lie to me, Prince. I have served Tsukuyomi and the Gods for my entire life. I gave them everything, even my life itself. That I have returned is no diminishment of what I paid.” She turned to me, and the smile she gave was a little unpractised and rusty, but it was heartfelt, and once more I knew my actions weren’t wrong. Those that have sacrificed deserve the reward that should bring and if there’s no reward, I’ll damn well make one!

“No, please speak the truth to me, Prince Shōtoku. Do you think Tsukuyomi would wish us kept in the dark, when he sheds light on the future to save us all?”

“I… genuinely do not know much.” He admitted. “I am… merely a kami.”

“Merely?” Kana was a little offended. “But the kami are the Gods of Japan!”

“They are.” Tarōbō said, his attention on us. “But…” I could hear the sneer in his voice. “The Gods, your Tsukuyomi… the others. Trust not in the Gods, child. I am not one who has fallen for their sweet words.”

“You knew of the dead bear, Great Tarōbō.” Haanōbō said. “And that it hides a dark secret. One you have not told your children.”

Prince Shōtoku looked a bit ashamed, but he remained silent as Tsukiko-san gave him a meaningful look. Tarōbō’s staff gleamed, drawing aether out of himself, and after he calmed down, he spoke. “The Gods of Japan, they are not of this world. The kami, the eight million, they are their children, in a way. Beings they have left in charge of this land.”

I nodded, understanding. Beside me, Daiyu, who was quite perceptive, also agreed. “It is as that being within Shiro, Taṇhā, says. If there are many millions of worlds, it is foolish to expect that these great Pantheons came from Earth. If so, why would things be the way they are? It makes no sense, but if we assume that they are visitors…”

“Yeah. The same thing with legendary weapons too, like Shaeula’s Fragarach. There’s no way that London has all these truly mythical weapons lying around, but if they are replicas… so then, the kami…” I realised what Tarōbō meant. “… the eight million are largely of this world, right? There might be some we consider kami that are from the Pantheons, but the majority, such as Shirohebi and Prince Shōtoku…” They are native beings, like the Fae or the Yōkai.

“Yes, I became a kami after my death.” The Prince affirmed. “I… was not here before, though I am not entirely without knowledge. But to learn what you wish I cannot answer.”

“But you know who can.” Tsukiko-san pressed him, and when he hesitated, Tsukiko-san applied further pressure. “The benefactor who turned aside the fate even Tsukuyomi felt was inevitable, Definite, is asking you for a small favour. I am asking too. I have given my life to Tsukuyomi, the kami, defending Japan. I ask than you illuminate us with knowledge, as the moon shines, piercing the darkness of confusion and ignorance.”

After a moment, the Prince sighed. “For you, Tsukiko-sama, and for Akio-sama, who has brought you back to us… there is the ruler of the Imperial Palace…”

“Oh yes, that’s one of the areas of Kyoto I don’t control.” Haru chimed in. Everyone was listening intently to the conversation, and Haru was no exception. “It’s just the Palace, and the Territories of the other Chosen of Kyoto. Oh, and this mountain.”

“The kami who dwells there is old. One of the first. He… he will know. Though I do not know if he will see us.”

“He will.” Yasaka-san said, consulting his Book. That surprised me, as he was usually unwilling to use his gift freely for me, but at my puzzled expression he snorted, amused. “I’m no fool. I know if you don’t get the answers you seek, you’ll be making me provide them. Best let someone else do it first. It’s less painful for me that way.”

He’s not wrong… “I see. So…”

“We’ll go, right? Since I’m the nominal master of Kyoto it’s only good manners and diplomatic.” Haru said to the Prince. “I think we should take a Tengu too, since it is an invite to mount Atago. You can come, Haanōbō. You might as well start getting used to how we do things.”

As they left, heading down the mountain, Tarōbō spoke again. “The truth is often unpalatable.” He looked at me, his eyes keen. “The Gods care little for us. You would do well to remember that. They act for their own aims. Just as we might tend to a garden, out of amusement or wants, they tend to us, but they are neglectful, and should we fall to weeds or pests, they will have no qualms leaving us to die out, infested by parasites, or worse, plough the fields fallow and seed it anew.”

“Yes, it’s certainly true that we aren’t a priority.” I had to agree. But Ortlinde seemed to wish for our success, and Tan has said little, but definitely alluded to the fact that the Pantheons have their own struggles, and are not able to devote resources to every world, or if they did, it would be an equal or greater disaster… fights for possession over us would probably lead to greater ruin… “And don’t get me started on how bad the aftercare is for Chosen. I was lucky, but poor Haru…”

“I received little advice as well.” Daiyu affirmed. “Though I doubt I would have listened. I was too arrogant, too sure of myself. Power that is not my own is power to be wary of. Cultivation is the way of control. A power given by others can be taken by others, or manipulated. Now I feel a little differently, but…”

“… Yeah, it’s still a bit of a worry. Hence why you need to Cultivate, grow strength that is yours.” I agreed. Motoko and Natsumi, who also sought their own power, supported Daiyu. “But… I think the Gods have their reasons. They clearly care to an extent, otherwise why would Tsukiko-san have been so cherished by Tsukuyomi?”

“I see.” Tarōbō rumbled, disapproving. “We shall see if you can still retain your enthusiasm, when the truth is out. Mount Atago and the Sacred Flame is not a kind story. But… first.” He stood, and leapt down from the dais. “We have unfinished business. Now, it is time. You defeated my Directions, and cleansed the Flame. Though the losses were grievous…” He steadfastly refused to look at the statue of his son, whom he had cursed with his breath. “…I can hardly blame you for that. Your claim to Haanōbō has been recognised. But an alliance…” he shook his head. “…you wish to tame the mountain which has stood in opposition to the kami? Then show you have the might to force me.”

Raising his staff, he pointed it at me, the glowing jewel shimmering, dull compared to before, but still pretty and sparkling. I stood, but Kana grabbed my arm, worried. “He’s strong. And you’re still tired. This isn’t fair! He should wait until you’re back at full strength.”

“It will be fine.” Bell said, shaking her head. “This is all part of the posturing and politics. We have the upper hand, and the lord of this mountain can hardly let that go unchallenged. Even if we conclude an alliance, there are still many matters where having the higher position matters.”

“I see, but…” Kana was still shaken, and Motoko took her hand.

“It will be all right. All we need to do is believe in Akio. Just like always. He does not look afraid, does he?”

“No, he doesn’t…” Kana agreed, and Natsumi also reassured her.

“Akio might be tired, but he recovers fast. And this isn’t life or death. Defeat will set back our plans, but when lives aren’t on the line, we might as well cheer him on and enjoy the show.”

“I have no idea what is going on…” Kinneka, who had been indulging himself in meat and booze, grimaced, fangs showing. “…but that Tengu, he is stronger than the ones in the Parade I know. Perhaps only that black-hearted Emperor can exceed him.”

“Bah, Sutoku is merely a bitter, defeated pretender.” Tarōbō snorted. “Ōtakemaru would be enraged to be compared to such. If you had met the Oni called the greatest mountain peak, you would be naught but a smear on his fists. Now… if you wish to make me submit, prove your strength!” He raised his voice, calling to the watching Tengu. “I, Tarōbō, he who accepted the charge from the kami to guard this stolen mountain, one that they were too guilty to touch, will fight. This charge I will not lay down easily.” He fixed me with a stormy glare. “So far your words have indeed proven confidence rather than arrogance. But I am old and powerful…” His League surged, and I felt a weight of oppression, before my own roared within me, filling me with might. The Tengu withdrew, Daiyu and Bell helping the other girls back, and a circle of open space formed around us. “… so come! The world is changed, the Gods are meddling once more, and mortals walk the sacred lands. I accept change must come, but… it will not come without my resistance, all my strength roaring!” His wings flapped as he turned a mocking hand towards me. “Come, fight!”

You don’t need to tell me twice! I was tired, and my reserves of many elements were critically low after the sequence of battles and trials, but I had recovered somewhat during the brief feast, and I always had other trump cards to play. Rushing forwards, I poured my strength into Body Enhancement, and moved rapidly, muscles straining. My fist swung out at Tarōbō, who merely snorted, insulted. Crimson energy shimmered, and the ground around me twisted into a series of jagged stalagmites, tips shining like rubies, forming a pair of great jaws, or some sort of wicked bear trap.

“Yellow Dragon, of the Centre, bite down!” Tarōbō crowed.

“Nope.” I vanished in a shower of violet energies, aether sizzling in the air around us. The jaws clamped shut, but I was gone, appearing behind Tarōbō, Void Motion taking me into his blind spot. He turned rapidly, his stats on a par with mine, and his staff blocked my kick, though his hand trembled.

“You are a tricky one.” Tarōbō sneered. “But you are too hot-headed. I will drink your desires…” The staff shone, the light trying to siphon off my aether, but I simply pressed my attack, punches and kicks raining down, and Tarōbō was forced to use his wings, clad in summoned stone, to ward them off. I felt pain in my knuckles as I continually struck stone, but eventually the defences shattered and he leapt backwards.

Got you! Wind threads I had wove tore into his flesh, blood spilling and feathers scattered into the air. Tarōbō roared, pained, before he swept his staff and aetheric light blasted aside my threads. Panting, he glowered at me. “I do not understand. The jewel should drain your anger, your…”

“Anger?” I said, surprised. “There’s no anger left. If anything, I feel sorry for you, having lost a son… two sons.” I corrected. “You apologised to Haanōbō, and her place is secure again. You’ve offered hospitality, despite hating outsiders, and have kept your word. There’s no anger or rage in this fight.”

“I see.” Tarōbō paused, laughing loudly. “I have misjudged you again, it seems. Most amusing, most amusing indeed! You truly seek an alliance, how unexpected. Yet what has come before…” I allowed him to ponder, despite it being the perfect time to attack. This isn’t about winning, it’s about convincing… anyway, there’s another reason the jewel isn’t affecting me. My Spiritually Pure Physique seemed to be making a difference as well.

Ignoring the cheers and cries of the Tengu around us, Tarōbō mused for a few moments more, before shaking his head. “I thank you for letting an old Tengu think.”

“No problem. Realisations in battle are often valuable.” I allowed.

“Yes, they can be. You seem young, but you have likely endured much, to be such a philosopher.”

“Quite a bit.” I agreed. “But I’m hardly philosophical. Just learning from experience. So, shall we start a proper duel?”

Tarōbō laughed at that. “Yes, to do less would be insulting. If you would give me a moment.”

“Be my guest.” I stepped back as he called upon the Yellow Dragon once more.

“…as the flame burns within your rocky spine, so too shall I blaze. Spirit of the mountain descend, Yama-Ikari!”

The Sacred Flame shuddered, and droplets of it were absorbed by the crimson earth element surging from Tarōbō. It was drawn into him, and his League surged, climbing steadily. Flames wreathed his body, and the ground around him melted, becoming a liquid stone that cascaded over his exposed body. Steam rose from his wounds as the hot stone cauterised them, and he was soon covered in a layer of stone that glowed yellow and red. Holding his staff, he nodded at me, his ornate mask hiding his expression. “We are the mountain, and the mountain is us. If you wish to take our mountain, you must defeat us both!”

“Fine by me!” I agreed. Pulling Storming Moonlight, lightning crackled across the blade. “I’ll get serious too. Otherwise it’d be disrespectful.”

“Mountain Wrath!” Tarōbō boomed, and the ground exploded, a geyser of rocks flying towards me, all blazing with flame. Ashes rained down from the sky, forming a cloud that obscured vision, but my Eye saw through it easily. I should be able to manage one more Prominence Twilight, if I push myself…

My blade sliced through a large blazing meteorite, the halves passing by me. Wind element surged, knocking others off course, and the ground shuddered with heavy impacts. Light element flashed, and lasers chased Tarōbō, who moved with grace, flying through the air. The indigo beams struck him, and his armour shattered, only for it to regenerate, the molten stone flickering with flame quickly repairing itself. On seeing that I switched strategies, closing in with Void Motion, and my sword struck his stony wing. Lightning flashed, and Tarōbō lost height, his wing numbed.

“Petrifying Breath, Sekkai-ka kokyū!” he called out, and breathed a fog of earth elemental energies towards me as I plummeted. I used wind to disperse it, then I unleashed light and wind together, a brilliant explosion of light and pressure forcing those below us to look away.

“Flashbang!” I called, bolts of light chasing the falling Tarōbō. His armour held, but he was pierced through several times, blood scattering. Arangbō called out in shock as it looked like Tarōbō was going to strike the ground, but at the last minute his wings opened and he flew, gliding over the debris-strewn mountain, soaring up overhead again. Flame and stone bullets rained down on me, and I took several impacts, but with wind and my own earth element shielding me, they were only minor.

“A nice attempt, but you can hardly breach my defences. I am as unyielding as mount Atago, and as driven as the Sacred Flame!” he called down to me. “Besides, I can fly. You move well, but those who crawl on the ground can…” He dodged as I used Void Motion, my spatial element depleting fast. This time though he was expecting it and wasn’t caught unawares. “…never reach the skie…” His words were cut off as Storming Moonlight appeared in a spray of violet energies, piercing his back, lightning shocking him, burning him internally, smoke rising. His wings spasmed and he fell again, and I had one more Void Motion in me, so I appeared above him, wind surging in a whirling typhoon.

“Jupiter Descending!” I cried, my fist slamming into the hilt of the sword, driving it deeper, Tarōbō coughing blood. “Callisto falls!” It would work better if I had ice element, but… naming things is hard… I let my remaining Spirit Water flow down the blade, and that magnified the intensity of the lightning, allowing the conduction to face less resistance. As more acrid smoke rose from his wounds and he coughed further blood down his chin, I seized a wing, and wrapped it in cutting strands of wind, the stone armour fighting it even as feathers were sliced apart and fresh blood bloomed.

“Impressive…” Tarōbō managed, gasping. “I have a fresh understanding of how my Directions were outmatched. But I…” he drew in a breath. “… am not so naïve!” He spun, throwing me off, and before we hit the ground he swivelled, rising again. “Kami Sekkai-ka kokyū” The pockmarked mountain erupted, geysers of petrifying gas soaring towards me, and even with my swift evasion and jade aura of wind, my legs were caught in the blast, and I felt a tingling pain as the elements tried to invade my body. I landed heavily, rolling to my feet, Tarōbō overhead again, looking down on me, though his badly scored wing made staying aloft a great effort.

“Akio, are you…” Kana began, but I waved her to silence, not even glancing back.

“Yeah, this is good, but…” My Spiritually Pure Physique and Ether Healing were fighting the petrification, allowing me to move. “It’ll take more than a little to….” Flaming rocks fell, and I swatted them aside, wincing as the impacts raised heavy bruises on my arms. “… how about letting me finish what I was saying?” I unleashed darkness element, more as a distraction, as I still hadn’t worked out how to use it to great effect in battle. Tarōbō’s eyes narrowed, and he waved his staff, and the element was drawn in, the glow of the jewel at the tip intensifying.

Took the bait, huh? Light flashed, and he dodged, only to be struck by a number of brilliant beams coming from behind, as they reflected off a smooth mirror-like sheen of wind I had conjured with aether and wind element. His wounded wing gave out, and he hit the ground heavily. My sword was still impaling him, and he wrenched it out, blood gushing, before fiery stone sealed the wound again. As he cast it aside, he shook his head. “Your efforts and tricks are admirable. But my Mountain Armour Of The Spirit is unyielding, and cannot be broken. If damaged, it simply melts and reforms, and it protects not just my body but my spirit. The perfect defence.”

“No defence is perfect. Even Chen Na’s barriers have their flaws.” I disagreed. “I’d wager I can break it, but we already have what matters on the line, so…”

“Yes. We do.” He agreed. “Now, how long can you stave off my Mountain Breath Of Petrification? Longer than poor, foolish Autumn West, alas.” He spared a glance for his fossilised son. “Yet… no, I shall end it cleanly.” Tarōbō moved, racing towards me, the ground fountaining up, more gas surging, and I dodged, only for him to use the debris as a diversion, much as I had.

“Sekkai-ka kokyū!” he cried out again, belching more petrifying fog, and this time I was ready. A deep halo of darkness, surrounded by radiant light, was at my back, and the earth element, heavy with flame, was drawn into the vortex.

“I too want this to end quickly. Prominence Dusk!” I cried, and the earth element was corroded by darkness, turning to dust, and the flames changed from yellow to a dark, inky bruised shade of purple and black. It flew back at Tarōbō, who turned to dodge, only for his foot to sink into the mountain, rock turning into thick mud. “I’m good at earth element too. Bottomless Swamp!”

As Tarōbō stumbled, one good wing flapping frantically, he was bathed in the tide of dust and black flames. The mountain shook as there was a great explosion, and all I could hear were the shocked words of Kinneka as a reflection on how it looked to those watching.

“We must have been insane. My sis and me, we’ve poked the wrong tiger… such a high-level battle, it’s like watching those two musclebound idiots Red and Blue argue over a barrel of sake…”

As the detonation cleared, Tarōbō was still standing, though his armour of rock and flame had disintegrated, the corrosive effect of dust element effortlessly eating through it, the spiritual properties burned in the dreadful black flame. Tarōbō was injured badly, bone showing through at his shoulder and ribs, his yellow robe little more than rags. On seeing me still holding off the petrification, he laughed bitterly.

“Quite the impressive counter. I should have expected such. But… this old Tengu is far from done.” The energy from his staff surged, and it flowed towards him, only for him to drop the staff as I desperately pulled the dregs of my spatial element, charging it with aether, and released water bullets, moving them through space. The accuracy suffered, but enough pierced his hands and caught the staff to send it tumbling from his grip in a spray of blood, silver mist rising.

“Yeah, you Yōkai have a lot of tricks. But so do I.” Pushing my body to the limits, I was on him, grabbing his arm, and my fist struck his mask, shattering it. Underneath was an inhuman face, red-skinned and with a long, avian beak in place of a nose, though his eyes were still human-like and expressive. He made no effort to hide his face, instead belching out more petrifying smoke, though without his chants the volume and potency was comparatively feeble. Holding my breath through instinct I slammed my foot down on his leg still mired in the swamp, breaking it, and he stumbled, right into a counter that I had picked up from Tsumura Arts, and he flipped, landing on his back in the quagmire, being drawn down. A little aether was channelled, and soon I was holding Storming Twilight and the Staff Of Muted Desires, my foot pressed down on Tarōbō, our earth energies clashing, the swamp I had conjured bubbling and boiling, stirred by the aftermath of the clashing forces.

“I think I win.” I said, fragments of stone flaking from my legs, the petrification defeated. For a moment Tarōbō merely blinked at me, before he barked a harsh laugh.

“Such arrogance. You are nearly as exhausted as I. Yet…” He looked at the staff I was holding. It was a strange feeling, energy coursing through me, as the discharge he had called for was now entering my body, rather than his as he intended. “…somewhat less beaten, it seems. I am disarmed, and my greatest weapon is in your hands. Perhaps my Directions are not so dissimilar to me after all. Very well. I concede your triumph outsider. No, Akio.”

I moved my leg, reaching down to help him out of the sucking swamp, only to nearly topple in myself as a vast surge of aether flooded me, reminiscent of when we slew Duke Myrcolaxriath. Desperately I began to funnel it back to my Territory, while amber letters poured across my vision, momentarily disorientating me.

You have gained control of this Territory as the master of the Anchor has conceded it to you. Your class, Conqueror, has increased from level 17 to level 19. You have gained control of the Sacred Flame Of Mount Atago. As your Territory Anchor is too far from here to integrate this Territory with your own, you are unable to integrate this Anchor. You can return it, destroy the Anchor or since you have a Vassal Territory that is able to integrate the Anchor, you can cede it to your Vassal, Suzuki Haru.

You have gained in strength. Your level has increased from One Hundred and Thirty-Seven to One Hundred And Thirty-Eight. Your Material…

Wait, why has he conceded it to me? This was about an alliance… I briefly considered returning it, but quickly decided to pass it over to Haru. I felt us connect for a moment, and her surprise, before the weight left me, though I was still funnelling ether back, the great reserves kept deep within the mountain these long centuries now mine. On seeing my strange expression, Tarōbō barked a laugh.

“An alliance… I am too proud. This mountain would weep were I not to risk all in battle. Yet know, even though I concede this defeat, we will hold the mountain, and never return it to the kami, for reasons you will no doubt soon know, no matter your wishes. Now, my son…” he said, shocking me. “…help me up. I am in ailing health, and my heart is heavy with grief. This has been a day of surprises, both for good and for ill.”

My son? What the hell? As I helped him up, shocked, the booming laughter of Arangbō echoed over the mountain, and as I glanced at the petrified form of Fungbō, I was sure I could see horror in his lifeless, stony eyes…