Chapter 24: The Emperor - The Two Wretched Sons First Meeting
Personal System Calendar: Year 0009, Days 15-20 Month VIII: The Imperium
Imperial Calendar: Year 6854, 8th month, 15th to 20th Day
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Arrival
They had arrived at the Imperial Palace after two days of remarkably uneventful travel. The magical wagon train had transported them across distances that would have taken at least a few weeks on foot, delivering them to the heart of Imperial power with efficiency that still seemed miraculous to those from frontier settlements.
Emperor Janus had been informed of their arrival the moment they passed through the final portal into the capital region. He had been finishing his daily administrative work while waiting for his guests, reviewing reports and signing documents that would affect millions of lives. The Empire did not pause simply because the Emperor had scheduled a personal meeting.
At first, only August Finn was summoned to enter the throne room. No one else would witness their first meeting or whatever might emerge from it. This decision unnerved August's companions considerably, particularly given his tendency to speak his mind regardless of who stood before him.
They had already witnessed August mentally spar with Grand Advisor Solomon, one of the most powerful beings in the known world, and respond with brutal honesty when caught. Now he would be alone with someone even more powerful, someone who could reshape the continent with a gesture.
Erik had pulled August aside before he departed, gripping his shoulder firmly. "Try not to offend him like you did the Grand Advisor. This is the Emperor. He can have us all executed with a word."
"Just be yourself," Angeline had added, though her voice trembled slightly. "But maybe be a quieter version of yourself."
Master Ben had offered different advice. "Do not try to be anyone other than who you are. Janus has dealt with pretense and flattery for millennia. Authenticity will serve you better than attempted deception, even well-intentioned deception."
With those words of caution and encouragement, August had been led away while his companions were shown to their accommodations. The rooms prepared for them were luxurious beyond anything they had experienced, with soft beds, private bathing facilities, and windows overlooking gardens that seemed to exist in permanent bloom.
But none of them could truly appreciate the luxury. They could only wait and wonder what was happening in the throne room.
---
Approaching the Throne
August now stood at the gates of the Imperial throne room, and the magnitude of where he was standing finally became real in a way that previous experiences had not quite captured. The doors before him were enormous, easily forty feet tall and constructed from some dark metal that seemed to absorb light rather than reflect it.
Lining the approach were Dragonguard held in ceremonial posts. They stood with perfect military discipline, their massive frames creating an imposing corridor through which August had to walk. These warriors were not present primarily to protect the Emperor, no, they existed to be imposing, to demonstrate the Empire's might to anyone approaching the seat of power.
August understood this intellectually, but his body still reacted to their presence. He felt their gazes upon him, brief assessing glances from behind their ornate helmets. Each one was evaluating him, measuring his worth, determining whether he deserved to stand before their Emperor.
These were the Dragonguard responsible for protecting the Emperor and the throne itself, the First Cohort, known as the Shield-Bearers. They were selected from among the already elite warriors of the other cohorts, the absolute best of the best. Grand Captain Commander Lex Draconis, as impressive as he was, commanded the Twentieth Cohort. These warriors belonged to the First.
Leading August toward the throne room was Grand Advisor Solomon, who took leisurely steps that belied the significance of the moment. He knew what was happening, and August suspected the old wizard was amused by watching how he would react.
But August felt surprisingly relaxed despite the circumstances. His mind was already analyzing the Dragonguard stationed here, comparing them to Lex and his cohort, noting subtle differences in stance and equipment that suggested different tactical specializations.
As they approached the massive doors, even August with his limited supernatural perception could feel what waited beyond. Grand Advisor Solomon, as mighty as he was, was merely a mortal man who had achieved extraordinary power through study, practice, and longevity.
Behind these doors waited something different entirely. An incarnation of multiple concepts made flesh: human and god, mortal determination and divine heritage, history and present reality combined. It was something that should not have existed in this form but had been allowed, perhaps encouraged, to continue existing.
The presence reminded August of his own power in some ways, something that manifested on the physical mortal plane but originated from elsewhere. But the scale was incomparably larger. It dwarfed Grand Advisor Solomon, made the terrifying Dragonguard seem like children playing at war. The presence made August question why guards were even necessary if the Emperor possessed such overwhelming power.
Emperor Janus was unmatched even beyond this doors, even when doing nothing but sitting in contemplation.
Finally, the doors began to open. Before they did, Grand Advisor Solomon offered a final word of wisdom. "Well, this is where I leave you, young man. But before you enter, remember to be yourself and speak your thoughts honestly. The Emperor is more perceptive than I am, and he values authenticity above flattery."
With that, August stepped through the doorway and began the long march toward the presence of the Emperor. The throne room was vast, easily capable of holding thousands of people if necessary. But now it was empty except for August and the figure seated at its far end.
The walk felt like an eternity. August's footsteps echoed in the enormous space, each sound seeming to travel forever before fading. As he walked, he noticed them: the shadows that were not quite shadows, the presences that existed in the spaces between perception.
The Anino. The Emperor's personal spies.
He had seen them before in the village, watching from the periphery. He had not been concerned then, recognizing that they posed no immediate threat and served some observational purpose. Now he understood they were reporting directly to the most powerful individual in the Empire.
His recognition of them produced an immediate reaction. The Emperor, who had been reading some document even as August approached, set it aside and focused his complete attention on the approaching young man. The shift was palpable, like the sun emerging from behind clouds but with infinitely more weight.
August finally reached the base of the throne, where steps led up to the seat of Imperial power. He prepared to offer formal greetings as he had been taught by his companions, but before he could speak, Emperor Janus raised one hand in a simple stopping gesture.
---
The First Question
"Tell me, boy," the Emperor said, his voice carrying effortlessly through the vast space without any apparent strain or amplification. "How did you notice the Anino?"
August took a moment to gather his thoughts before responding. Honesty had been recommended by both Master Ben and Grand Advisor Solomon, and his own instincts suggested that attempting deception here would be catastrophically foolish.
"Sir, I have seen them before at the village, but I took no particular heed of their presence. I saw no ill intent in their actions, so I presumed they were simply observers sent to watch us, as others have been. They seemed content merely to watch, so I saw no reason to interfere."
The Emperor did not move, processing what he had heard. In the shadows that were not quite shadows, the Anino trembled slightly. They knew they were not meant to be seen by anyone except when they chose to reveal themselves. When they had been at the village, they had found nothing wrong with their concealment techniques. They had not realized they had already been detected, and this failure tarnished their reputation as the Empire's most elite intelligence operatives.
The temperature in the large room dropped noticeably. August felt the change and immediately worried he had said something wrong. He kept his mouth shut, waiting for the Emperor to speak again.
"I see," Emperor Janus said finally. "Very well, child. Now then, let us address why you are here. I wanted to see what manner of man you are, and I can already perceive that you are quite capable. To notice my own shadows, not the Empire's general intelligence apparatus but my personal operatives, means you possess something more than what you present to the world."
The Emperor leaned forward slightly, and his eyes began to change. His deep, dark cerulean irises took on an ethereal quality, shifting to a golden blue that seemed to contain entire galaxies. His divinity was activating, though the change was so subtle that someone not watching carefully might miss it entirely.
"First question, child," Emperor Janus said, his divine nature now fully engaged. "Are you a god's pawn?"
The question left August confused. A pawn of the gods? Why would any divine entity have interest in him? He was nobody, a survivor from a destroyed village who had somehow managed to build something new. What could gods possibly want with someone like him?
But then he gave the question a more serious thought, asking himself honestly: Am I a god's pawn? He did not know the answer with certainty, but he suspected it had something to do with the power he had acquired since surviving that fateful night when his village and family had been murdered.
"I do not know if I am a god's pawn," August said slowly, choosing his words carefully. "I do not fully understand the reality behind such a question, sir. But I do have something that might relate to what you are asking. A power that has kept me alive since I began my second life. It made me strong enough to protect what I love."
He paused, then continued. "It speaks to me at times, or it did. Since waking from my last battle, the power within me has gone silent. It is still there, I can feel its presence, but it is unresponsive to my queries. So I do not know if this is a god's power or not, sir. I cannot say with certainty."
Emperor Janus studied him with those divine eyes, reading not just his words but his heartbeat, his breathing patterns, the subtle muscle movements that might indicate deception. He found no fault, no discrepancies. August believed what he was saying. He was convinced of it wholeheartedly, which meant either he was telling the truth or he had been so thoroughly deceived that he genuinely believed the lie.
The Emperor decided it was the former. This young man was being honest within the limits of his understanding.
---
A Revelation
"Then I shall enlighten you regarding what that power might be," Emperor Janus said. "It seems your knowledge is limited to what you have been told, and perhaps not even that much."
He settled back into his throne, preparing to explain concepts that most mortals never encountered. "For the longest time, this world has been without its own Prospect. At least, that is what I have been told by a fellow being who is privy to such information. Do you know what a Prospect is?"
August shook his head, indicating he did not.
"A Prospect is, in summary, a god's chosen champion. However, because gods cannot directly influence the mortal plane, what they call the Lower Heavens, they made an arrangement with something called the World System. This System acts as a middleman, a neutral ground that enacts divine will in the world below without direct divine intervention that would violate universal laws."
The Emperor continued, watching August's face for signs of recognition. "Through this arrangement, gods can select champions, Prospects they are called, and bless them with a unique system provided by the World System. There are these administrators who call themselves as the SYSTEM. One such being oversees a system for each world, sometimes multiple worlds. They are Administrators, beneath them serve Managers and those beneath them are their staffs. There are also Enforcers who enact the natural laws of the universe. If a god or mortal, it matters not which, breaks these fundamental laws, the Enforcers will come, and judgment will be rendered."
He leaned forward again. "Now I have shared what I have learned. Tell me, boy, do you have such a system? This power you speak of, are you a Prospect, a Player of the gods?"
The explanation was overwhelming, but August had heard key words that triggered recognition. Administrator. System. Champions. The voice that had spoken to him when he first awoke in this world.
"From what you describe, sir," August said carefully, "it has similarities to what I possess. In fact, I cannot say with certainty whether it is the same or something different. Mine has progressions and levels, like a game. If I recall correctly, it manifested when I returned from death."
He took a breath before continuing. "I have already told my story to your intelligence operatives during the village inspection some time ago. When I first woke up, I heard a voice. It informed me of being chosen, spoke of a death I had experienced in another life, another world called Aerthe. But the voice was talking to me and yet not to me at the same time. It must have been addressing another version of me, or perhaps the soul that had died in that other world."
"The voice identified itself as Administrator Magnus," August continued. "He has indeed guided me through my progression, though not constantly. There was also a woman's voice, and sometimes a mechanical voice. They have been the ones guiding me since I arrived in this world. So I cannot confirm nor deny what you have described, Your Majesty, but it may correspond to what you have said."
"Hooo," Emperor Janus made a sound of interest. "That is indeed an intriguing power you possess. But I will not pry further into its specifics. Remember, boy, it is disrespectful to interrogate your elders nor anyone about the sources of their power."
He stood from his throne for the first time, revealing his full height of fifteen feet. His body was perfectly proportioned despite the enormous size, an endomorphic build that combined strength with surprising grace. He wore comfortable clothing rather than formal armor, suggesting he had been conducting administrative work before August's arrival.
"How about a friendly match?" the Emperor suggested, though his tone made it clear this was not truly a suggestion but a command phrased as a request. "I will hold back significantly, of course. I wish to gauge how far you have developed, what you have become with this power you possess."
He descended the steps from his throne, each footfall creating small tremors in the solid stone floor. "After our match, I will let your village be. I have formed some conclusions about what you are capable of. It will be quite interesting to see how your fate unfolds. Will you continue to play the game, remain a god's pawn and source of entertainment? Or will you one day manage to cut the strings of fate that are definitely keeping you alive?"
It seemed the Emperor had already developed an understanding of how this so-called Prospect's and their systems worked, though August suspected he did not fully grasp how broken and unique August's specific system was compared to the standard systems generated by the World System.
"Very well, Your Majesty," August replied. What else could he say? Refusing would be both foolish and impossible.
---
The Match
For the first time, Emperor Janus ascended fully from his throne. His complete height of fifteen feet made him appear as a giant, though his proportions remained perfectly human rather than distorted. His clothing was comfortable and practical rather than ceremonial, designed for ease of movement rather than display.
"Show me everything you have, boy," Emperor Janus commanded. "Use your full power if you wish. This hall will never break, no matter what forces we unleash within it."
August understood immediately that victory was impossible. Even if he spent multiple lifetimes training, the man before him had transcended mortality entirely. Emperor Janus was a deity in truth, not merely in title. And he was someone proficient in combat at levels August could barely conceptualize, possessing the ability to use his entire being as a weapon with perfect efficiency.
So August did the only thing he could: he released everything under his conscious control. He did not know if he could tap into that divine transformation he had experienced against the Shadow Demon Dragon, but he would use everything else available to him.
August became fully equipped within a single second, his enchanted armor and weapons materializing from his magical storage space with practiced ease. The speed and smoothness of the transition impressed even the Emperor, who made a small approving sound.
August was first to attack, knowing that hesitation would accomplish nothing. He sent an arrow toward the Emperor's direction, not truly expecting it to hit but using it as a distraction while he closed distance.
Emperor Janus avoided the arrow's trajectory with the smallest possible movement, a minute shift of his upper body that demonstrated perfect economy of motion. The arrow passed harmlessly by, and the Emperor's attention remained locked on August rather than tracking the projectile.
August performed a lunging attack with his spear, coating the weapon with his Lightning Edge skill to increase both speed and attack power. The electricity crackled along the shaft, and his forward momentum was explosive.
Emperor Janus parried the strike with his vambrace, a casual deflection that sent the spear flying aside with tremendous force. The acceleration of his own attack combined with the Emperor's parry sent August tumbling in that direction. He managed to regain his balance quickly, rolling and coming up in a defensive crouch facing his opponent.
The Emperor was indeed a god of war. He remained essentially stationary, having moved perhaps two steps total during the exchange. He was studying August, analyzing his techniques, his thought processes, his tactical instincts. He offered no comments, simply observed, allowing the boy to demonstrate his full capabilities.
But this would not be a proper sparring match if the Emperor remained purely defensive. He had been letting August attack freely, but now it was time to shift to offense and see how the boy handled being on the receiving end.
Emperor Janus raised one hand, and a massive sheathed blade appeared in the air beside him. The weapon was immediately recognizable to anyone who knew of its Imperial history and the banner that they flew, a blade that had been with Janus for nearly his entire impossibly long life.
It was a living blade, a mythical weapon that grew alongside its owner. Though its shape had changed over the millennia, adapting to different combat styles and situations, the core remained the same. It possessed its own personality, its own temperament that mirrored its owner's nature. A blade must conform to its wielder, enhancing strengths and compensating for weaknesses, if Janus even possessed any.
As the sword began sliding from its sheath, power swirled and filled the space. The air grew heavy with the stench of death, not merely one death but millions, perhaps billions of slain enemies. The blade had absorbed their dying moments, their final thoughts, their screams and hatred and resentment. These remnants lingered within the weapon, whispers of extinction given form.
The blade was named Mortem-Null Draconis, the Sovereign of Sorrows.
---
The Sovereign of Sorrows
The weapon was not forged in a single moment, nor by mortal hands alone. It had been shaped over centuries of use, each battle refining its edge, each death deepening its hunger. The blade's core was carved from an ancient dragon's bone, the remains of a traitorous beast that Chronusfyre Solumbra, the Dragon Prince who had been Emperor Janus's closest companion had slain before it could ever betray him. That betrayal had ended with the dragon's death and his bones, claws, teeth, scales, core and every usable part had been repurposed into a set of terrible weapons and armors.
The dragon bone, teeth and claws in particular had been tempered through union with Mytherium steel, that legendary "Century's Own Mortal-Metal" - a living fusion of Arkanium and Elmisium that pulsed with contained starfire. The deep platinum sheen was threaded with veins of shifting azure that danced like captured lightning along the blade's length. This was no ordinary Mytherium, but rather the result of one of history's few successful Rites of the Mortal Flame, forever bonded to Emperor Janus himself during its creation.
The combination of dragon bone, claws teeth and Mytherium created something that existed partially outside normal reality. The Mytherium's property of hardening in response to wielder intent merged with the dragon materials residual power, creating a weapon that could cut not just flesh but concepts themselves, severing the ties between body and soul with each strike. The metal's crystalline memory allowed it to adapt and reform, while its soul-reactive nature absorbed the essence of every being it slayed.
Mortem-Null Draconis was a living relic. It did not merely kill; it remembered what it had slain.
The echoes of countless fallen lingered within its core. Rage, despair, defiance, all bound together in a silence heavier than any scream. When drawn, the air thickened with the stench of extinction, as though the world itself recoiled from the weight of what the blade had ended.
Like its wielder, the blade adapted. It grew. It conformed.
Its temperament mirrored Janus perfectly: unyielding, resolute, merciless when circumstances required. The wielder's strength was amplified, weaknesses concealed, though whether the Emperor possessed any weaknesses remained debatable.
It was not merely a weapon. It was history given an edge. It was death given will.
The blade existed in three states depending on how much power the Emperor channeled through it:
Here's an enhanced version of the three stages incorporating the Mytherium properties:
The Three States of Mortem-Null Draconis:
Stage One: The Dormant State - The Bone-Ash Shroud
While sheathed, the blade appeared almost fossil-like, the dragon's bone, claws and teeth created a greyish and porous like ancient petrified remains. The Mytherium steel in this state seemed to invert its nature - instead of its characteristic platinum sheen, it appeared dull and lightless, the azure veins dormant and dark. The living metal's consciousness slumbered, its soul-reactive properties contained within the scabbard's enchantments. In this state, the stench of death was suppressed, manifesting only as a slight chill in the air that made animals flee instinctively and caused sensitive individuals to feel unexplained dread.
Stage Two: The Unsheathing - The Maelstrom of Sighs
As Janus drew the blade, the Mytherium awakened. The steel began to glow with its true nature - a dark, iridescent platinum sheen like oil on water, with veins of azure lightning coursing through its length in rhythmic pulses. The Arkanium component responded to the Emperor's intent, hardening to impossible densities while the Elmisium's crystalline memory aligned the blade to its perfect killing form. The dragon bone core pulsed with a rhythmic, low-frequency vibration - the echo of the ancient dragon's dying core merged with the living metal's consciousness.
This was when the stench of extinction truly hit. The air didn't just smell of rot; it smelled of nothingness, as if the oxygen itself was being deleted from existence. The Mytherium's soul-reactive nature created a pressure that could be felt in one's chest - the combined weight of billions of absorbed deaths pressing against reality. You could hear the "silence heavier than any scream" as a physical pressure against the eardrums, the Arkanium converting emotional resonance into pure dread.
Stage Three: The Awakened State - The Void-Drake's Maw
When battle reached its peak and the Emperor released more of his power, the blade fully conformed to Janus through their eternal bond. The Mytherium veins expanded dramatically, the azure lightning spreading like glowing muscles or a nervous system wrapping around the dragon core. The metal flowed between solid and liquid states, reshaping itself through pure thought and intent - the ultimate expression of its mana-reactive malleability.
The edge became so impossibly sharp that it created spatial distortions - tiny black rifts tearing through reality itself as the blade moved. This was the Mytherium pushed beyond its normal limits, the starfire contained within its structure leaking out in controlled bursts. The platinum surface rippled with contained cosmic power, revealing glimpses of the fundamental forces trapped within its crystalline lattice.
At this stage, the Sovereign of Sorrows became fully sentient. The echo of Janus's consciousness embedded in the Mytherium during the Rite of the Mortal Flame merged with the absorbed memories of billions slain. The blade would whisper directly into the Emperor's mind, granting him access not just to combat techniques but to the very essence of every enemy he had ever defeated - their fears, their strengths, their final moments all became his to command.
The living metal's awareness extended beyond the blade itself, sensing threats before they manifested and guiding the Emperor's strikes with preternatural precision. In this state, Mortem-Null Draconis was less a weapon and more an extension of Janus himself - starlight given form, death given will, and a god's power made manifest through mortal craftsmanship.
---
The Final Clash
Emperor Janus moved with terrifying speed despite his enormous size. The fifteen-foot giant closed the distance between them in two steps, Mortem-Null Draconis cutting through the air with a sound like tearing fabric, the spatial distortions creating visible ripples.
August, recognizing the danger, swapped his weapon to a sword and shield making a desperate block, channeling every technique he knew into reinforcing the weapon. Lightning crackled, fire erupted, wind enhanced his movements. Every element he could control manifested simultaneously in a final desperate defense.
The weapons met with a sound that transcended normal acoustic range. The throne room, massive as it was, resonated like a struck bell. The force of the collision created a shockwave that would have killed normal observers, but the room's enchantments absorbed and dispersed the energy harmlessly.
August felt his arms go numb from the impact. His spear held, testimony to its quality and his reinforcement techniques, but the force transmitted through it drove him backward. His feet carved trenches in the supposedly indestructible floor, the enchantments flickering momentarily before reasserting themselves.
Emperor Janus did not press his advantage. He held his position, blade extended, studying August's defensive technique with the same analytical interest he had shown throughout their match.
"Good," the Emperor said simply. "You survived the initial contact. Most would not have. Your reinforcement technique is crude but effective, and your instincts are sound. You knew you could not dodge, so you committed fully to the block."
He pulled back slightly, giving August space to recover. "Again. This time, I will strike from a different angle. Adapt."
(At this time Emperor Janus used only a percentage of his power enough that it could be felt at the receiving end)
The match continued, with Emperor Janus varying his attacks to test different aspects of August's abilities. High strikes, low sweeps, feints, combinations, everything a master swordsman might employ against an opponent. Each time, he limited his power just enough that August could barely respond, keeping the pressure constant but not overwhelming.
August defended desperately, his mind racing to anticipate each new attack. He began recognizing patterns, not in the Emperor's technique but in his own responses. He was learning, adapting, evolving under pressure in ways that would have taken months of normal training.
This was what Master Ben had meant about the value of fighting opponents far beyond one's current level. The experience compressed learning, forced growth that could not be achieved through safe, controlled practice.
After what felt like hours but was likely only minutes, Emperor Janus finally stepped back and sheathed Mortem-Null Draconis. The oppressive atmosphere immediately lifted as the blade returned to its dormant state.
"That will suffice," the Emperor said. "You have shown me what I needed to see."
August collapsed to one knee, utterly exhausted. He was not physically wounded, the Emperor had never actually struck him, but the constant defensive effort had drained his stamina completely. Sweat poured down his face, and his arms trembled from the strain of blocking strikes that felt like being hit by collapsing mountains.
"Thank you, Your Majesty," August managed to say between gasping breaths.
"You possess potential," Emperor Janus said, returning to his throne. "Raw, unrefined potential that will require years to properly develop. But the foundation is solid. You do not rely solely on your supernatural advantages but have trained your body and mind as well. This will serve you better than you know."
He settled back into his seat, once again the administrator rather than the warrior. "I will not interfere with your village. It may continue to exist and develop as it has been. However, I am placing certain restrictions. First, you will report to Grand Advisor Solomon once every two years regarding your status and any significant developments. This is not negotiable."
August nodded his understanding.
"Second, if I call upon you for service to the Empire, you will answer. I do not expect to make such calls frequently, if ever, but the option must remain available. Do you understand?"
"Yes, Your Majesty."
"Third, and most importantly, think carefully about what I said regarding gods and pawns. You possess power granted by forces beyond mortal understanding. Consider whether you are truly free or whether you dance on strings you cannot see. The answer may disturb you, but it is better to know than to remain ignorant."
The Emperor gestured toward the door. "You may rejoin your companions. They are undoubtedly worried about what has transpired here. Inform them that you have the Empire's protection, within reasonable limits, and that your village is recognized as an independent settlement allied with the Empire."
August rose unsteadily, bowing deeply before turning to leave. As he walked back across the vast throne room, his mind churned with everything he had learned and experienced.
Behind him, Emperor Janus watched the young man depart with an expression that might have been satisfaction or perhaps concern. He had seen something in August that reminded him of himself at a similar age: potential combined with determination, power tempered by the desire to protect rather than dominate.
Whether that would be enough to survive whatever fate had in store for him remained to be seen.
The doors closed behind August, leaving the Emperor alone with his thoughts and the silent presence of the Anino now returning back to the halls and lurking in the shadows, undoubtedly embarrassed at having been noticed by someone who should not have possessed such perception.
The meeting was concluded, but its implications would echo for years to come.