Dai sunk into the office chair his missus-boss had ordered from Denmark, gliding a hand over the supple Salamander-skin.

With goods now re-routed from Tonglv to Dalian, the former high society playboy now sat on no less than three advisory councils. More and more often these days, Dai dearly desired a return to the careless past of nightclubs and fight-clubs.

But Dai knew that no matter how much praise his father may have heaped upon him, Tonglv's success couldn't be attributed to the triumvirate. Instead, it was the girl from the House of Song who had conceived of the stock-credit system. Without doubt, his missus-boss' unseen hand guided the canal into its present form, both through her sorcerous accounting and in establishing James Ma's audit team. Indeed, Gwen and Gwen alone was the reason Central showered accolades on the Fungs like confetti.

And at first, when the credit system all had been a pipe dream. Dai's father, Chairman Tu and Magister Quin had thought the single per cent of the canal's revenue a fruitless request born from naive confidence.

Now, six months since the canal's operation, Tonglv's turnover had already reached ten million TEUs thanks to its "free" passage for law-abiding parties. Following Stage Two, the third and fourth South Sea canals may very well push the Tonglv' capacity northward of fifteen million TEUs, rivalling Shanghai. Likewise, at the girl's behest, the establishment of micro industries servicing the port had blossomed, transforming rural Nantong into a burgeoning trading hub with the potential to rival Shenzhen. When Ruì submitted the financial year's income report, the canal's Withholding Fund had accrued twenty-three million HDMs. Presently, through accrued interest, investments, and real estate, Gwen received 124,000 HDMs annually gross, totally 71,522 after sundries, expenses, and taxes. As for Stage Two, considering that ninety-eight thousand acres had passed through the State Surveyor's office, something close to fifty million HDMs in land alone was incoming over the next two financial years— and all of this was just the beginning of the fund's true potential.

What the triumvirate now thought of the girl was a blood-gorged Stirge, well-wedged in their profits, siphoning their serum. Worse still, with each IIUC match, her fame, not to mention her grandfather's position in the CCP, grew more difficult to dismiss out of hand.

To Dai, Shen had lamented Gwen refusing to become the Fung family's daughter. If so, he would have given her everything the Clan possessed, Dai included. But, once news arrived of the girl's inevitable departure, both members of the CCDI and Tonglv's partners argued against the presence of a foreign Magus or Magister embedded in China's infrastructure.

Removing the girl from their contracted obligations, therefore, had been a foregone conclusion. Gwen's stake in the Tonglv Fund would be purchased at cost, and she could either take the severance or face scrutiny and censure. If need be, her reputation and alas, her position, may need to be severely weakened.

For Dai, once outside his father's penthouse office, the Fung's heir felt assaulted by a disturbing sense of oppression and injustice. Such a fit of indignation rose within him that he had almost stormed back inside to shout at the codgers.

Then, he took a deep breath. The Fung's heir knew that while a warrior followed his heart, a leader must think with his head.

Intellectually, he understood that what he should be doing was luring Gwen into a false sense of security, or perhaps, convince her to cut her losses and be satisfied with a Ring full of HDMs.

But the heart wants what the heart wants.
That was what it meant to be young.

Click!

The frosted glass door opened, revealing the lithe form of his unrequited object of affection.

"Young Master Dai." Gwen smiled as she passed, leaving a trail of perfume. "What's the news?"

Dai was up in a split-second. "Gwen— tell me the truth. Are you going away? Are you leaving us?"

With infinite patience, the object of his protest pulled out her seat, patted down her skirt, sat, crossed her legs, then faced him with a picture-perfect smile.

"Yes," she replied finally. "I'll be moving to London for some time. Cambridge has given me an offer."

Dai deflated. Returning to his visitor's chair, he sat, then sighed again. "So it's all true."

"It is." Gwen nodded. "But worry not, I am a free woman. I'll be back every other year to see my Babulya and grandfather. I still have to check up on Percy and Mina and Tai and everyone, and you, of course, AND to groom my interests here in Shanghai. I am leaving, but in a way, I won't be, not completely. This place will be my home away from home."

Dai looked up.
It was hard to believe that almost two years had passed since he had caught Gwen duelling in the House of M for change. To think that in so short a time, the girl was now an internationally famous Void Mage who ate a Beast Tide and then Shenyang. His father had even said that, in lieu of the IIUC broadcast, Gwen had faced a Lich and lived to tell the tale. Studying her mien, he could see that her youthful face was now more mature. The girl had lost some puppy fat, and what remained was sharper, more defined, like an enchanted blade half-showing its vorpal edge.

A pang of desire arched across Dai's heart. Even before he had arrived at her office, he had dithered on the choice before him. Now, seeing her face to face, his heart filled with a strange gladness.

Without obstruction, the warning slid from his lips.

"I think my father and the others are trying to usurp your shares in Tonglv," Dai suddenly intoned, finding the words liberating. "They're arguing that there's no way someone who is not a part of the Party can have so much influence over so critical a piece of infrastructure. I don't know what they have on you, but they should be enacting their plans after you leave China. If they scandalise your reputation, the triumvirate will vote you out. And if you're away, you would have to return to defend yourself in a public hearing."

"Oh?" Opposite, the recently minted Devourer raised a brow. "What about our Tower contract?"

"For the volume of Crystals you shall be receiving in the future, the PLA Tower is more than willing to go against Pudong..."

"To be expected." Gwen rolled her eyes. Even in her old world, the Party seldom honoured intellectual boundaries with foreign corporations. One such example would be Kawasaki's design of China's high-speed rail, where after the fact, Kawasaki was removed from China's patent filing as a contributor.

"I shouldn't be telling you this." Dai shuddered. He withdrew a clip of Halfling tobacco from his jacket and offered Gwen a hand-rolled stick from a Mithril fag case. "I really shouldn't..."

"And I appreciate it." She smiled at him with such warmth that his heart fluttered. "I won't forget your aid, Dai Fung."

Dai lit up.

"Dai." She watched him puff as the delicate smoke filled his lungs. The rare tobacco was a treat, even for him. A dozen sticks alone cost twenty HDMs. "Aren't you happy that I am out of your hair? You could finally be the son your father wanted, the big man of the Tonglv project. You did very well with selling Stage Two, you should know. The number of investors willing to part with their deposits has already generated enough HDMs to enable Stage Three."

"Miss you?" Dai swallowed, feeling a buzz from the heady smoke. "I would miss you very much, Gwen. You know that."

"A leopard can't change its spots, I see. Dai the flatterer." She chuckled, then leaned forward. Her breath was sweet, her eyes vivid and green and sparkling, refracting the Daylight Globes overhead.

Dai exhaled, blowing the acridness downward so that he wouldn't pollute the space between them. If she was going to kiss him, he felt a pang of regret, then he shouldn't have smoked. Still, nerves were nerves, and there was nothing like a stout lungful to unknot his inner torment.

Her face came so close as to be an inch from his face, but then vertigo struck.

Employing a mote of Void between her fingers, Gwen snuffed out Dai's cigarette, displacing the tip so that he was left holding a stump.

"Dai, go back to Nantong and carry on as though this meeting never happened." Her lips grazed his cheeks, her soul-searing gaze burning holes at the back of his brain. "I've got my side of things handled— and I promise I won't forget the choice you made today."

"Babulya, Yeye, I am home!" Gwen's husky voice hailed the central courtyard of the Song's family compound.

At the head of the banquet table, the Chair of the Confidential Communication Committee, soon to be promoted to a vice-Secretary of the Central Bureau, surveyed his family. Beside him stood his wife, Klavdiya, welcoming his tardy granddaughter, and over to her left was Gwen's seat, after which sat Percy then Jun. Across the table sat Nen with her son and daughter. Finally, the empty space beside Nen had been reserved for the absent Hai, his wife Qīn, as well as the kids' step-sibling, Sui.

"Dearest, come and sit next to Babulya." Klavdiya motioned for their granddaughter to take her seat beside Percy. The girl obliged, ruffling Percy's hair as she passed, eliciting a cry of protest from her brother.

"You're late," Guo complained, eyeing his granddaughter. The girl's attire, as usual, was far too westernised for his liking. A girl of her age should be well covered, especially in winter. That his granddaughter should be seen in form-fitting clothing would only invite undesired attention. Already, his colleagues had spotted Gwen's Lumen-pics on the back pages of the People's Daily no less than a dozen times, each time engendering a cascade of proposals.

"Sorry." The girl struck out her tongue childishly. "I had some Tonglv matters to absolve. My secretary was understandably upset, but everything is alright now."

Guo's lips twisted. The disparity between the girl's feigned child-like visage and the subject matter of a national infrastructural project was unsettling, to say the least. Already, news up the grapevine had warned that the masters of Nantong were hoping to squeeze Gwen out of Tonglv.

Of that, Guo was of two minds. As a long-serving Secretary of the Party, then Departmental Chair, and soon to be Inner Party Cadre, he knew the dangers of wealth. In a position of sufficient height within the Communist Party, personal wealth was a liability, for an abundance of assets inevitably resulted in conflicts of interest.

For many of his colleagues, the excuse, "My wife is good at business" only flew under the Scry when they remained in power. Once their inevitable retirement came, many were investigated by the CCDI, stripped of their estates, then sent to the Front.

If Gwen could receive a fair buyout for her share, therefore, he had no complaints. No girl needed millions to live comfortably in London, and he would prefer to enter the Party's leadership without the shadow of a millionaire granddaughter.

"Uncle Jun!" The girl positively squealed when she embraced Guo's second son from behind, cuddling Jun's face with her own.

After her dear babulya, the girl remained closest with Jun. As for her strange fascination, Guo had initially found their intimacy disconcerting, though now with the Dragon Princess in the picture, he could breathe easier. Still, Gwen's disregard for respectful distance was displeasing all the same.

"Tao! Mina!"

More hugs were exchanged. Guo kept his face stoic as he awaited his turn. He wasn't a tactile person, not even with his wife, so the kisses and the hugs seemed to him unnecessary gestures.

"I saw the vid-casts!" Mina gushed, cradling Gwen's hands. "You were brilliant, cousin! Brilliant! Everyone at my school is talking about you. They wouldn't stop asking me questions!"

"Haha, I hope I wasn't a bother."

"No, no, none at all!"

"Yoyoyo Wassap Gwenabitch? Looking fly!"

"I've missed you, Peaches. What have you been up to?"

"Crushing it, ya know? Cruising with mah crew, Big-Dog and Mack-Daddy, they enquired after yo ass."

Guo shuddered. Wang's son was an aberrant existence, a blight upon the Song family. A goblin who talked in tongues while making obscene hand gestures. More than once, Gwen had attempted to convince Guo that the boy had a prodigious talent for "music". It was an absurd proposal, for Guo had yet to see the man-child touch a single instrument. Instead, the infernal fruit persisted in making percussion sounds with his lips, an act that appeared as though Tao was perpetually fellating the air. "You looking sweeter than ever, hoe. Got yourself a sugar daddy yet? Or dare I say, yo a sugar mama yet?"

"Working on it." Gwen laughed, apparently unperturbed by the strange words emitted from Tao's filthy lips. "I am sorry we're not going to America, Peaches, but the opportunity will arise. The States are definitely on my shortlist."

"It's cool, yo! We jam later!" Tao crossed his arms, his fingers forming a fork, making Guo's blood boil. "Peaches in the House!"

Finally, having finished greeting Nen, his granddaughter arrived, having come full circle.

"Yeye—" Gwen curtsied, lowering her hips and raising her head so that for a moment, rather than a sorceress who could level Shenyang, she appeared a docile grandchild. "How is your back?"

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"It's better," Guo replied formally, all of his ire melting away as though snow in spring. He wanted to reach out and touch her hair, or give her a pat on the shoulder, but with Klavidya watching, his hand refused to move. A Patriarch should be stoic. "Sit, the food is getting cold."

Gwen gave him a hug anyway, one Guo enjoyed with relish until Klavdiya caught him smiling.

The family sat.

"Thank you all for coming." Guo wasn't one for big speeches or to mince words. "Jun especially, I know your duty with the Princess is taxing."

"It's a burden of love, Father," Jun confessed readily. "Ayxin sends her regards. Have you been taking the ginseng?"

"Sparingly." Guo inclined his head. "Thank her for me. And no more gifts we can't repay."

"Alright, father."

"If you tell your brother..." Guo paused, then sighed. "Tell him Percy is doing well. Better than he was at the same age."

Percy beamed.

Gwen made a face at her brother.

Guo then turned to Gwen.

"Has Jiang Luo finalised your transfer papers? What of the others?"

"The Dean's been very good to me." Gwen tapped her Storage Ring to indicate that her papers were done. "Richard and Petra will leave separately. There's a matter I wish to inform the family, actually."

"Inform", Guo noted, not "inquire". As much as he had grown fond of Gwen, the girl's propensity for independent action was an unsettling and unwelcome characteristic.

Swiftly, the servants plated the banquet. One by one, Guo "opened" the dishes by taking a small portion for himself and Klavdiya.

"Tell us later." Guo snatched the head of a Sea Bass, depositing the gaping upper torso in Gwen's bowl. "Eat up. I know how much you Void Mages need to replenish your vitality."

The girl grinned back. Without a smidgen of lady-like behaviour, she delivered the creamy eyeball to her lips.

"Eat up… eat up…" Guo relaxed, wondering why the only Chinese part of his granddaughter was her ability to pack away any and all cuisine. "Jun tells me you'll be meeting with Ayxin's brother?"

"Yes!" Gwen replied between mouthfuls. "It's to do with Tonglv. Which, by the way, is the matter at hand."

"Gwen, what are you planning to do with Tonglv," Jun interjected, apparently more in the know than Guo himself. "Ayxin says you're going to see her brother in Yangoon?"

"Nothing too serious, really." Gwen picked at the fish head until she extracted the cheek meat. With an expression of happiness, she popped the flesh between her lips. "But let's just say any would-be schemers may be stealing from the mouth of a not so proverbial dragon."

Myăma.
Yangon.

Marong, viceroy of the House of M, presided over the meeting between his two benefactors. One of whom was the woman responsible for his emancipation; the other, his liege.

Arriving with Gwen was his sister, who had returned to take custody of the family business. There was little need, however, for once Ruxin reigned over the family, no noble dare raised their eyes at Mayuree's stewardship. Just the opposite, the historically Naga worshipping people of his nation fell into line now that a real Dragon had become their lord and patron. The old nobles had been so supportive that the Shadowmen of Manipur complained of having nothing to root out other than bland corruption and the occasional assassination.

Presently, a foursome of Dragons gathered under the perfectly conditioned temperature of Karaweik Palace's vaulted throne room. To Marong's knowledge, his benefactor was still in the dark regarding the plea-bargain he had made with Ruxin— though now the truth hardly mattered. That the House of M deferred to their Demi-God neighbour was a fitting gesture even if they were in the heart of Pudong.

Upon the former golden throne, Ruxin lounged on a divan. In his human form, the first prince of Huangshan was a flawless, pearl-skinned gent with platinum hair and irises of gold. Loosely attired, Ruxin appeared a regal wonder in his gold-threaded robes; his hair, ears and fingers all adorned with priceless gems and jadeite.

Ayxin meanwhile, was as delicate as she was striking, a blooming metallic flower in robes of ivory and rose gold. With her racially ambiguous mien and metallic-coloured eyes, she was the picture of majesty, despite borrowing the mortal fashion of the human cities.

And to the side, looking very much like a mutt, sat Golos, squatting on the steps. Despite becoming larger and meaner than before his participation in the IIUC, the Wyvern's innate morphic-magic remained amateurish. It was a sore point that both elder drakes complained of their thin-blooded little brother. Whatever Golos' development appeared to be, it seemed only to aid the Wyvern's brutishness.

"I fear you shall have to explain again," Ruxin commanded from up on high.

"That's alright." Gwen's heels clicked on the jadeite tiles. "As I said— I have transferred to you all of my Chinese investments. Marong here has lodged the transfer with Pudong. Take a gander, I've included a five-year forecast as well."

Marong, who had stood behind his Master, knelt first, then presented the data slate Gwen had prepared.

"Your lordship— Miss Song's one per cent stake presently generates as much as seventy-thousand HDMs per annum. In Tonglv's Phase Two, she may receive several hundred thousand in dividends. In the future, her share may generate far more... for as long as Tonglv stands."

Ruxin tapped the slate, then frowned. For some infernal reason, Human Magitech disagreed with the prince.

"Allow me, Lord." Marong obliged. Once they reached the bottom of the slate, Marong sensed that his lord's mood vastly improved.

"And in turn?" The Thunder Dragon raised a silvery brow. "You want me to preside over the fate of your mortal kin?"

"And a few friends." Gwen rested a hand on her arched hips. "And of course, collateral borrowing from your treasury for 'OUR' future ventures."

Marong's master tilted his head, his golden irises capturing the girl in their reflection.

"Your grandparents. Your cousins. A Dai, and a Ruì? And this Lulan and Kusu Li. Shall I bring them to my lair? That is the safest place."

"Oh, no, NO." Gwen shook her head. "Just name drop a few times. Arguably, you don't have to do anything, Marong will keep an eye on your investments. But if something goes south, if 'The Great Dragon of Kachin" could pass a note to the CCDI's Secretary Miao, that would be great."

"There's no need for Ruxin to intervene. I'll take care of Jun's progenitors," Ayxin cut in, her golden irises flashing. "I alone am enough to keep the humans cowed."

"I don't doubt it." Gwen smiled with teeth. "But you said yourself that your Draconic-powers and Spatial Magic are limited while inside the Shield. You couldn't even sense the scale you used to spy on me."

"It kept you safe." Ayxin raised her chin. "As was my promise to Jun."

"Yes, thank you, 'Aunty'," Gwen replied churlishly. "For my Uncle, I'll give you the benefit of the doubt."

"Ungrateful brat." The Dragon-princess hissed.

"That's me." Gwen turned away from her uncle's spouse. With a teasing smile, she continued her banter. "That said, I do appreciate your aid. Although, if you want me to feel grateful, then tell me that you did it for my sake, out of the goodness of your own kind heart."

"You think far too highly of yourself." Ayxin glared. "Your grandfather's right. You're an impertinent whelp."

"HA. You females should fight it out." Golos looked up. "The winner can take the Ash Mage."

"SHUT UP, GOLOS!"
"GOGO, that's disgusting!"

Golos rolled his eyes.

Marong looked from Gwen to Ayxin, then to the smiling Ruxin and back. He could scarcely believe his eyes and ears. That Gwen acted the equal of these beings who were centuries old and descended from an ancient Mythic was incredible.

"Tell me again of the venture you're planning." Though his Master found the females' rivalry amusing, a Dragon's crystal hoard was paramount. Despite Gwen's well-catered promises, the idea of allowing his "Financial Advisor" intimate access to the currency financing his future ascension made the Thunder Dragon uneasy. "Speak less in tongues."

Below, Gwen motioned for Marong to return to her the data slates she had prepared. With her other hand, she extended her arm, exposing a slender wrist.

"Let's start from the beginning. This is a Message Device. It has an inscribed Core that emulates a Diviner's Message Spell. These are made by various manufactoriums around the world, and they require a Divination Tower to function outside of direct Line of Sight."

"Yes. I know of these Magic Items." Ruxin nodded. "Humans are incapable of communicating with their kind over long distances and so must rely on their craft, correct?"

"That's correct." Gwen detached the bracelet with a silent command, then left the bangle hanging from Marong's fingers. "Let me show you."

Their presenter incanted something under her breath. In the next moment, a series of geometric shapes appeared in thin air. It took him a moment, but Marong recognised the spell as Minor Image.

"As someone who has been paying through the nose for LR Messages to London, I am simply aghast at the business models employed by the Towers for regulating their Message network. Did you know that the Towers erect Divination Stations entirely out of their own pocket? Imagine that! Telecommunication is one the most important aspects of human civilisation, and they're just letting any Mage with access to a Message Device use it willy-nilly! The Divination Stations and its maintenance are paid for by the Towers! Out of pocket!"

The images materialised until a mono-coloured, bright green map the shape of Shanghai and its surrounding provinces solidified.

"Up on this coverage map. I have colourised the sections of Suzhou, Hangzhou, and Nantong Frontiers currently possessing Divination Stations and or Towers. You will note that much of the surrounding regions, despite housing millions of customers— remain unserviced."

"I don't quite follow." Marong's Master frowned, as did Marong. That Frontiers lacked Divination Towers and that Mages had to use Diviners or portable Divination Engines was no surprise to anyone.

"This is where a prospective entrepreneur should come in." Gwen pointed to her bosom, then to Ruxin. "Do you know why the coverage for Message is so horrible, and why humans have so much trouble every time we leave the tier 1 cities? It's because the Message Towers have limited range and scope. Once in a Green Zone, our Devices become virtually useless without a line of sight to our party member. We're blind and deaf out there! Disconnected! While working on Tonglv, I looked into the rationale behind the lack of Divination coverage, and I've found the reason; very stupid reasons— funding and upkeep."

Gwen closed the first polygon image, then raised another in the form of a Tower that resembled the Queen from a western chess set.

"But that's where we come in. As far as I am concerned, there is an easy way to resolve this issue of coverage. By establishing a new Divination-based business I shall dub ' _Network-Carriers_ ', we shall front up the HDMs necessary to expand Divination Towers into the Green Zones."

"Have you not said that such an investment is futile?"

"But NOT for us—" Gwen raised a finger. With another gesture, she conjured up several bar-graphs showing the cost of constructing the Towers. "The Divination Stations, Towers, whatever— are a mature form of Magitech, so mature that minimal improvement has been made since the seventies. Our only concern is if IT IS POSSIBLE to generate more revenue than we spend. This is why I am interested in an experiment."

In front of Marong, Gwen made a bright orange map of greater Sydney. The city itself was covered by a large yellow dome, followed by intermittent spots here and there, appearing like the pox.

"Consider Sydney. Outside of the city, there are countless Green Zones where the land is tilled for agricultural output. Yet, most of the folks living in this region have no way of communicating with the Magisters in the city. They would need to write letters, or physically relocate a town with a Divination Tower, a prospect that remain few and far in-between. In times of emergency, timely aid is nigh impossible."

Gwen wagged a digit, and a ring of blue enveloped Sydney's central districts. As far as Marong was concerned, it was the most peculiar use of Illusion he had ever seen.

"This is where we come in. We will raise Carrier-Towers to provide the coverage. Then, we will introduce Glyph algorithms that tie individual devices to 'accounts'. I know the Towers have Magitech Enchanters capable of this capacity because they charge me for my calls with Evee. Anyway, when a customer uses our network for Messages, their mana signature generates a monthly invoice— charging say, a quarter of an LDM per Message, per thirty-second block. Of course, we tithe Messages both coming in and going out."

"In this way, we attain economy of scale. For greater Sydney, for example, about two million individuals reside across the Frontier, and three million in the tablelands. Assuming a brisk business— say, 200,000 Messages across the entirety of a city of ten million souls a day, that's 350 odd HDMs per twenty-four hours in gross revenue. And that's just the beginning."

Another line-chart illusion demonstrated growth potentials. The number of digits indicated on the charts was enough to raise even Ayxin's brows.

"The Divination Beacons themselves last several decades, despite using present Enchantment algorithms and medium-tier Creature Cores. For this reason, with sufficient warding, we really don't have to worry about wear and tear. By that virtue, so long as our Carrier-Towers remain standing, they will continue to generate a small but steady stream of disproportionate revenue."

"Why hasn't anyone else done this?" Ayxin's question cut to the bone.

"Good question!" Gwen spun toward the princess. "The answer is simple. This is a project that requires a confluence of favour, land, materials, HDMs, Magitech— and me."

Gwen conjured the shapes of a dozen different Towers she had seen being used across Shanghai's Frontiers.

"A problem with the existing system is that each of the Towers builds its own Divination Stations with varying degrees of quality, range, and compatibility. Some cheaper Message Devices, such as those for NoMs, may fail to work entirely. Likewise, the Cores used by the Divination Towers are wildly inconsistent, meaning their processing capacity remains inconsistent. During peaks like natural disasters or monstrous incursions, it's not at all strange for Divination-communication to fail."

"And this is where we shall create a bull's market." The girl exalted, opening both arms. "Through mass production, we can lower costs by venturing into standardisation utilising production lines. After that, we plant the Towers, starting with low-risk Green Zones with high economic yields like Sydney and the future Yangon Tower. By working with the resident Mage Towers— such as those my brother-in-craft and Marong control. This will give us a working model to sell to local governments. Of course, once our Carrier is up and running, we shall invest in proper R&D of patented Divination Mandalas."

"And if someone else does mimic this proposal of yours?" Ruxin rested his chin on his knuckles. "Surely, there are better-positioned brokers in Shanghai?"

"GOOD POINT!" Gwen thrust out her chest. "BUT Ruxin, don't you wonder WHY Marong there is doing so well hawking your jadeite? Don't you find it strange how the Tonglv folks owe me their success? Do you know that without me, the Centurion Card and the House of M's credit lending would never exist?"

"Arrogance!" Ayxin hissed, her eyes flashing.

"Let her speak." Ruxin handwaved his sister. "She has cause to be arrogant."

"Thanks, Uncle," Gwen cooed, beaming broadly. "You see, what you uniquely possess isn't Spellcraft, but rather an syergistic system of accounting and billing. What you have... is ME! What I offer you is unadulrated efficacy in managing the Network-Carrier business. What will cost others many times their material investment, we shall attain with impunity. In this, you are a world leader. Trust me."

"Trust you?" Golos snorted. "I've still got missing scales—"

"SILENCE!"

"Gogo! The adults are talking!" Gwen snapped at her Wyvern.

Marong stifled a grin when Golos cowered.

"Marong, can you show Ruxin my bangle?"

Marong raised the Message Device.

"THAT is a Hitachi MSB-211. A horribly marketed Device but one of the best for its size and function. A lower-working tier Mage cannot afford a Device such as this— BUT, together with Marong's Centurion credit program, THEY CAN! What we can do is offer a twenty-four months contract which offsets payment for the Hitachi, including a monthly Message stipend. For example, let's say one such device is usually 130 HDMs, our customer will now pay, over the course of twenty-four months, 245 HDMs. However, the boon is that he or she gets to utilise a high-tier Divination Device without an upfront payment..."

Marong shivered when Gwen's maniac grin split from cheek to cheek.

"AND they're locked into our Carrier-Service, AND they're automatically a gold-member of the Centurion program."

Ruxin rose from his chair.

"… but we're getting too far ahead—" Gwen giggled gleefully with the sincerity of a pyromaniac, setting Marong's nerves on edge. With a hand, she retrieved the Message Device from Marong's fingers. "AND in the future. There will be no need for voice Messages. We will create a series of devices for TEXT! TEN TEXTS per LDM! And TEXT AND VOICE PACKAGES! For corporate, private, and individual users. We can tailor all to suit—"

Once the arithmetics caught up, Ruxin's expression grew troubled. "And your share…"

"For now, I'll take one per cent as before. If I fail, you still have my Centurion income and my Tonglv credit as collateral. In the future, though, our Carrier-Corp may grow so large that not even a princeling of Huangshan can hold down the greed it will engender from others. With enough authority, we may yet become the most loathed corporation in the world! BUT, if and when that happens, I would suggest we issue shares to placate said parties. We shall retain control, of course, but the point stands. We can absorb more allies into our fold. Our network will swallow every place. What we will create, dear Uncle, is a Leviathan!"

"The girl's gone wild!" Ayxin leapt to her feet. "She's drunk on crystals!"

Marong's master stood, half-fulminating with barely suppressed lustiness. "And what will you call this—"

Golos also stood for appearance's sake, feeling awkward that everyone else was standing.

"—Network-Carrier..." Marong articulated helpfully, his hair standing on end, his scalp positively crawling.

"I have the perfect name." Gwen's eyes sparked as she approached the dais. "As our Towers shall be many, I shall dub our new venture— _PROJECT_ _LEGION_."


"Trust me, Marong and Mia will take care of everything."

Of all the employees at her office, Gwen considered Ruì her head girl. Having invested so much of herself in Tonglv, Ruì was also the most distraught when the office received notice that their boss was leaving for London and that the Shanghai office would be shut down.

"It's been a pleasure, Ma'am." Ruì fought back the choking sobs even as she packed.

"Ruì, don't be so dramatic." Gwen wrapped an arm around the NoM girl's shoulders. "Look at how happy everyone else is!"

Effi and Terence returned awkward grins.

Gwen smiled back.

After she had returned from Yangon, Gwen had set into motion a domino of events that would culminate in Dai's prediction of her ousting. Of course, when the hammer drops, she should be in London, and her greedy business partners would find themselves staring down the dagger-toothed maw of a Demi-God.

"I don't want the severance." Ruì's courage was commendable. "Miss, can't I keep working for you in another capacity?"

"YOU ARE!" Gwen squeezed her assistant's arms. In a way, she understood why her PA was so upset. From Ruì's humble origins as an NoM Economics graduate, she had tasted the sweet nectar of authority. It meant that now, the prospect of a regular desk job could no longer satisfy. Borrowing Gwen's terror, Ruì commanded Ken without reserve, and Dai had listened to her requests without complaint. For her to return to a workplace where she dared not stare a Mage in the eye would be the equivalent of caging an Elven Druid in a concrete cell.

"Worry not! You'll be working for Marong, and Marong's a business partner of sorts! The House of M's balance sheets might be short a zero or two compared to Tonglv, but it's getting there. Rest assured, I shall need your capabilities in a few years, not to mention you have to pass on your experience to others."

"… I obey." Her assistant relented, though Ruì's agony remained barely disguised.

Gwen exhaled, feeling a little vexed, but mostly delighted by Ruì's tears. Competence was an endangered bird, but when combined with loyalty, it was rarer than a Colossal Dodo.

In the event of the Shanghai office's dismissal, she had arranged new positions for each of her workers. Effi and Terence were given middle management positions in Professor Ma's audit team as well as a generous severance package. Ken, whose resume included corporate espionage, received a cheap thank you card. Dai was accounted for by Ruxin and Marong, meaning his privileges should remain unassailed in the event his attack of conscience exposed itself.

And for Ruì, Marong had arranged for the girl a managerial position overseeing the Centurion accounts, working on accruing HDMs for Project Legion. If anything she looked forward to the day Ruì talked shop with a five-hundred-year-old Thunder Dragon. If her NoM secretary knew the truth, Gwen chuckled. How would she react?

"Ruì— Ruì?"

The girl looked up from studying the carpet.

Gwen gave the girl a final hug. Once the doors of the office were shut, they would no longer be employer and employee, but friends, at least for the foreseeable future. "Chin up! The best is yet to come!"

"Please come back soon!" Ruì stiffened in her arms. "Until then, I'll work hard!"

Marie Roslyn Wen, future Meister and current Magister— scrutinised the butt-ends of her research papers, each taking up a sizable chunk of her desk space.

Her first paper, "Investigation of Void to Vitality Conversion", had been abandoned due to the inherently unstable nature of Gwen's fluctuating health. She had initially paired the study with research into Druidic Essence, but outside forces had put a halt to that entirely.

Her next proposal, "Affinity Scales for Void Magic: A Systematic Comparison", had mustered enough data saturation for a modest publication like the Asian Pacific Journal of Spell Craft, but was far from the longitudinal data pool required for recognition from Harvard or Cambridge.

Conversely, "Void versus Matter Interactions, a Material Data Compilation", was far more comprehensive. Thanks to a wealth of citations and support from the PLA, her third endeavour had been published in the "Sino Journal of Spellcraft", seeing wide circulation both in Asia and overseas.

Her crème de la crème, the article with the most extensive interest from overseas Towers and Universities, was "Void and the impact of Consumption on the Caster: A Case Study". It was an ambitious paper that linked Sobel to Gwen, using Gwen's abilities as a yardstick to define the "morphic impact" of Essence Consumption, culminating in Gwen's attainment of Omni-magic.

The article was followed by a sixteen-month investigation entitled, "A Longitudinal Study of the Extended Use of Void Magic". Unfortunately, Wen had only one test subject. Fortunately, most Void related studies only had two or three samples anyway, not to mention their samples rarely survived the "longitudinal" aspect of the study.

Now gazing at the work she had produced over the past year and a half, even Wen had to admit she felt proud. Carrying out groundbreaking studies was an opportunity that came once in a lifetime, and in Gwen, she had unearthed a treasure trove.

And in a few months, assuming she successfully defended her research and provided citations to satisfy Cambridge's review board, she would ascend. For this, she had Klavdiya to thank, and Wen promised herself that both her friend and her granddaughter would be mentioned in her acceptance speech.

_Meister_ Roslyn Marie Wen!
China's first Meister in a decade!
Wen shuddered at the audacity of such a thought.

To join that august group of researchers at the forefront of Spellcraft!

_Ding!_ Her Message Device chimed.

"Master," Petra's voice jolted Wen from her lucid daydream. "Gwen's scripts are ready."

"I'll be out in a moment," Wen answered, sweeping a hand over her notes so that they deposited neatly in her Storage Ring.

Outside, seated in her laboratory at Henglong, was the freshly attired subject of her studies. Beside Gwen stood Petra, her Apprentice, as well as the unwelcome vision of Magister Eric Walken.

"Let's take a look." Wen took possession of the data slate from Petra's hands. Quickly, she scanned the numbers. As before, the statistics filled her with apprehension. A year ago, she would have screamed. Now, she just felt numb. "How very impressive."

"I should think Vice-Chancellor Butterfield would be plenty satisfied," Walken agreed. "Whether it's Gwen's thick skull, skin or her talents, the girl is without equal."

"Oi!" the girl slapped her mentor on the back, sending the Magister stumbling, disregarding the disguised compliment. "Excuse you, Eric."

"Gwen— if your Spellcraft knowledge was as absurd as your Omni-talent, you'd be receiving a Meisterhood," Eric Walken replied jovially, not missing the chance to flash a mocking glance toward Wen herself.

"Hmmph!" Wen snorted, dismissing Walken's snark as common jealousy. "Let's see…"

“Evocation 5.51 to 5.62”
“Conjuration 6.01 to 6.23”
“Transmutation 3.85 to 4.07”
“Abjuration 2.67 to 3.01”
“Divination 1.72 to 1.78”
“Illusion 2.48 to 2.56”
“Enchantment 1.46 to 2.11”

“7.01 (7.44) to 7.12 (7.57) for Lightning.”
“4.72 to 5.23 (5.33) for Void.”

"Great progress indeed," Wen read out the Affinity readings even as her eyes scanned the biometrics. "And a VMI of 345. It does look like your Conjuration has struck diminishing returns. The principle craft of a Soul Mage is Conjuration, you should know. Still, there are increases across the board. Did you have your fill of Mages in Shenyang?"

"If you mean Necromancers, then yes," the Englishman interjected before the girl could answer. "No different to an Orc Shaman or Troll Priest. In fact, I would venture to say that thanks to Gwen, a greater good has been attained. Won't you agree?"

"Sure." Wen chose not to pursue the matter. Once she left Shanghai, Gwen would no longer be her subject, and as such, her relationship with the girl was soon at an end. Through one another, they had each gotten what they wanted. The girl received her recognition and her placement in Cambridge, and she, her title. In so far as mutual benefits go, the exchange had been holistic and satisfactory.

"… Anyway, it would appear your Shoggoth Planar Ally provides very little vitality, feedback, or Essence," Wen translated the biometric data. "If I were you, I would focus more on Caliban's Consume. That is a talent which I am increasingly lead to believe is unique, existing so far only through yourself and Sobel."

"I see." The girl's knitted brows frowned unhappily.

"If you could somehow uncover more of your Master's research, it may help your cause." Wen helpfully dispensed a spot of advice. "I do recall he had a Dryad, yes? And something of a laboratory called the 'Grot'. Surely the man kept notes, journals, Spell Tomes. It's a pocket dimension, after all. Mages, on the whole, enjoy squirrelling away the things precious to them."

"Wen has a point," the weasel-faced Walken agreed. "Gwen, when you were in Sufina's Grot, did she mention anything about Henry's library? I've seen thousands of Tomes in his possession. In my memory, Kilroy was quite the collector. I borrowed from him on more than one occasion, and he never seemed to lack a publication, no matter how rare or obscure."

"I— I don't know." The girl shook her head. "When Master died, we were in and out in a hurry. Even when I studied with him, I never saw such tomes. Master always had the right book on hand every time we conducted lessons."

Unauthorized reproduction: this story has been taken without approval. Report sightings.

"Can you return to this 'Grot'?"

"Not easily." The girl bit her lower lip. "I also don't know if Sufina still remembers us. You know what happens when a Familiar is freed for too long."

"They go feral," Petra joined the conversation. Wen could see that her apprentice had been edging to beg a question of her own. "Speaking of which, is that a Spirit reading on Caliban?"

"A smidgen." Wen checked the in-depth diagnostic data. "Gwen, were you able to spell-shape your Void Element?"

Gwen shook her head again. "I am afraid not."

"Still a ways to go then." Petra gave her two cents. "That or the nature of Elemental Void makes IFF infeasible."

"I hope not." The girl raised a brow, glad for the change in topic.

"Petra has a point," Walken joined in. "I don't ever recall Sobel possessing IFF either. In the Tower, some of her creatures ate one another."

"But Caliban can identify friends," Gwen raised a point. "It knows when NOT to eat."

"A cause for investigation then." Wen tapped the slate impatiently. "Do you know if it can transform into its last victim? By all accounts, you almost died, and the Necromancer was formidable indeed. Going by our previous experience…"

The girl closed her eyes, then opened them again.

"No," she returned. "The best Cali can manage is Big Bird."

"The Da-peng?"

"Yes."

"A shame." Petra sighed. "Cali could really use a humanoid form."

"Gods, that's a terrifying thought." Gwen grimaced.

"I don't even know where to begin." Petra laughed.

Wen handed her slate back to her Apprentice, Klavidya's grand-niece. In their five years together, Petra had gained much from her tutelage. It was a shame that once the girl's research was completed, she too would leave.

But such was the way.

In Wen's world, some were there to be used, and some made use of others. In this way, things finished cleanly. Why should there be sentimentalities and complications of the heart when the academic mind could be well provisioned?

An excess of emotion was precisely the reason Klavdiya's granddaughter would not graduate a perfect Omni-Mage.

Thinking of the mewling girl, Wen could only snort at the girl's bleeding heart, her initial reluctance to Consume Choi. Deep down, she wanted to query the girl regarding her shifting moral goal post. What was it like? She wanted to say, how will you justify consuming a quarter of Shenyang, including its thousands of NoM serfs? That the girl continued to maintain her mask of Magely virtue was both ridiculous and grotesque. And that Eric Walken continued to groom the girl's facade only added to the absurdity. Hypocrites! She wanted to point her finger at their righteous noses. How dare you judge my research, you walking, talking contradictions!

But as always, her mineral-minded patience prevailed.

"Gwen." Wen made her case as clear as crystal. "As we shall no longer be seeing one another again in the capacity of mentor and instructor— nor subject and researcher, I hope our relationship will remain amicable."

Their eyes met. Hers were glassy, the girl's glimmering with a power that was difficult to discern.

"Of course, Magister Wen." The girl extended a hand. The vulnerability she had shown prior instantly evaporated. "Good luck with your Meistership. Please continue to look after Petra. She is very important to me, and I would be distraught if her studies were neglected."

The two shook. The girl's grasp was firm and wholly immovable.

"Till we meet again." Wen quickly withdrew her hand.

"See you in London..." The girl's reply was curt and professional. "... and good luck."

Without warning, Wen felt as though a Wraith had stalked across her grave.

"It's settled then? I shall be going first?"

Walken squirmed, decisively uncomfortable beneath a wall of magically induced, unnaturally blooming roses.

The source of his embarrassment was many: the girl opposite, the pollen, the gawkers inside the shop, and the paparazzo camping outside. When he and Gwen had entered, Walken had hoped that their observers were merely drawn by the sight of a beautiful young woman in a tapered pea-jacket. But then someone recognised Gwen from the Vid-casts, and now they were Magical Creatures caught in an exhibition.

"... Unless you want to come with me to Sydney?" the girl teased, stabbing at a strawberry cheesecake with a wooden fork.

"I shan't try my luck." Walken straightened his spine. Failing to find comfort, he focused on sipping his Earl Grey. "Your sister-in-craft may have gotten over her immediate contempt, but who knows? It's one thing to part ways without her itching for a Fireball, and quite another to invite me to dinner at her home."

"I suppose you're right." Gwen sipped her latte, crossed her long legs, then smacked her lips. "But didn't you say there was 'domestic strife' in London? Where are you going to stay?"

"I'll rent a room in Cambridgeshire. Vice-Chancellor Butterfield has requested for a meeting." Walken held his porcelain one-handed, appearing natural and poised, befitting of an Englishmen whose youth was shaped by Eton's wand-wielding parsons. "I'll request a meeting with Lady Grey as well, see what we can do to ready your induction by Michaelmas. There's the matter of your stay as well. Cambridge does have dorms for students, but I doubt you would wish to share a room with a stranger."

"I wouldn't mind if its Evee." Gwen raised her latte in a mock-toast. "Sweet, innocent Evee, at long last."

"The Nightingale College is in London proper, south of Wandsworth Commons, and all of its healers are well sheltered from the likes of you." Walken let rip a snort. "No, you cannot stay at their dorms. Cambridgeshire is an hour as the crow flies and just over two hours by public transit. You can visit on the weekends— assuming you can fish up a Flight licence."

"Nooo! I refuse to be away from Elvia when she's so close!" the girl whined, crushing her shortcake. "Eric, I command you to make it so!"

"And anger the Nightingale School?" Walken drew back. "I mean, I won't stop you, but you're on your own."

"Fine." The girl leaned back in her seat. "And back on topic. What are you planning to do about your family? Audrey and Beatrix and Angie?"

"They'll find out about my return sooner or later." Walken cringed. He had not hidden from Gwen the fact that he hadn't parted from his family in gentle terms. "I'll have to break the news tenderly."

"With gifts, of course." Gwen's eyes sparkled. "I can't materialise Spirits, but in terms of gemstones and jadeite, I could source something convincingly sincere. You can't just work some fresh scones, marmalade, that sort of thing? It worked wonders on me."

"That's because you are both a Void-fiend and a piglet."

"Humour, Eric? That's unbecoming of you."

"Well, maybe with the girls." Walken inhaled, then exhaled slowly. "Audrey isn't an easy woman to please. There's also the fact that her family's peerage is higher than mine, so things have gotten complicated."

"It's not like you cheated on her." Gwen snorted. "Career man goes off and does career things. You can always write it off as doing it for the girls' futures. People have been forgiven on shittier excuses. Trust me, just look at my daddy dearest. The prick's a flaming bastard living a perfectly happy life, consequence-free."

"Please don't compare me to your father." The Magister made a face. "Look, I'll do my best."

"You usually do." Gwen motioned for the bill. "Is that it? Fair travels then?"

"Let's hope so." Walken stood, happy to be out of sight of the ogling pedestrians. He collected his coat from the chair, then slipped into the cashmere jacket. "Until London."

"Until London." Gwen slipped on her jacket as well, though her attire was evidently not designed for warmth. "And Eric?"

"Yes, dear?"

"Good luck with the girls."

"Thanks." Walken readied himself for the Shanghai winter, soon to be London snow. An old man, he lacked Gwen's enviable constitution to withstand the cold. "I don't envy the weather in London, not at all."

"TO US!" Gwen raised her tankard.

"To Gwen!"
"Gānbēi!"
"Cheers!"
"To London!"
"To richbitch Gwen!" Peaches prematurely slammed a round of Maotai, warping his already misaligned vernacular coherency.

Glasses clinked for the dozenth time.

Around the hotpot sat Yue, Whetu, Richard, Petra, Mina, Mayuree, Marong, Tao, Kusu and Lulan, each pouring one out for their Gwen-touched futures. Initially, Gwen had invited her IIUC teammates as well, but each of them had left Shanghai or were occupied with their respective Clans and families. Filling in for their vacancy were Percy and Mei. A request that her brother had declined at first until his "Mei mei-mei" insisted.

And among the round table of Mages, each capable of levelling hamlets of varying sizes, sat the harmless Ruì, wholly lost and too terrified to speak. After only a single thimble of mana-rich Maotai, she laid against Richard, warm and satisfied.

"I can't believe it's been a month!" Lulan sat cosily beside Gwen. "I knew you were leaving, but this is too soon."

"Lulu, I am not leaving for good." Gwen allowed the girl to mimic Ruì. The magically fermented red sorghum was a potent concoction indeed, not to mention she had enhanced the bottle with a tendril from the Ginseng Spirit. The precious elixir had been a farewell gift of sorts, ensuring that all of her close friends and cousins would remain hale and vital. "I'll be back now and then. Once you've made a name for yourself, you can visit London as well."

"I don't know if I can meet everyone's expectations," Lulan whispered by her ear. "Gwennie, I am just a swordswoman, I fight monsters and people. That's all I know."

"You're more than that, Lulu." She refilled Lulan's glass. "Besides, Kusu will look after you. Won't you, Kusu? Failing that, Marong and Ruxin will back you up. There's Ryxi as well, he's the one who is going to be teaching you."

"I don't understand why the Lord of Nagaland would want to help me." Lulan's eyes had gone misty, though Gwen suspected it was from the alcohol. Of the girls, Petra was a silent drunk, Yue was the loudmouth, Mayuree was the sleeper, and Lulan was the apologetic worrier. "Me? A mortal? Going to Huangshan? Am I living a fairy tale? Would a hundred years pass before I descend the mount? They say a year on the mount is a decade in the mortal world! What if I miss you?"

"Ryxi better not take a bloody century to train you." Gwen caressed the girl's hair. "Else you're going to be our older sister, hahaha…"

"I too would prefer if she remained my younger sister." Kusu coughed. Unlike Lulan, he was taking his time with the Maotai.

"OUR little sister." Gwen held Lulan against her bosom, staring down the sweltering Kusu. With her other hand, she picked a generous portion of sliced Auroch and deposited the lot into the bubbling chilli soup. "You'll like working for Marong, Kusu. In the future, Lulan is going to need you."

"That's all the more reason for me to be cautious." Kusu's words were wiser than his twenty-odd years. "What could someone like you need from someone like me?"

Gwen snorted. "For one, I need Lulu, and you guys come as a package, am I right?"

"I wouldn't presume to dictate Lulan's life." Kusu eyed his sister's clingy form. "I just want what is best for her."

"Good. Because what's good for Lulu, will be good for you." Gwen smirked. "And while I don't presume to know what is best for her, what I can do is provide her with a rare opportunity to unlock her potential. If Ruxin can send her to Huangshan to learn the old arts, then she'll be all the more valuable to the PLA— and me. With my Uncle Jun and Ayxin looking after her as well, what more is there to fear? As long as Lulan doesn't get drunk on arrogance and start bitch-slapping the Secretaries' scions, she'll be right as rain. You hear that, Lulu?"

Lulan straightened herself. With her delicate profile still brimming with emotion, the Sword Mage retrieved the cooked meat from the boiling oil, mixed in the spices, then deposited the savoury, chilli-covered treat in Gwen's bowl.

"I don't know if we're ever going to repay you." Kusu regarded the girls.

"Lulu can repay me with her, you know..." A smile touched Gwen's lips. With one hand, she gripped Lulan's waist possessively.

Kusu paled, suddenly perspiring.

"...Friendship." Gwen finished with a chortling snort. "Kusu, you have to let her go eventually. She's her own woman. If she does get involved with a nice young man and wants to settle down in China, that's fine with me. As far as I am concerned, Lulu's a mate, and she owes me nothing."

"A mate? She's too young." Kusu chewed his lip. "Please don't joke about that."

"I want to adventure and quest with Gwen!" Lulan shouted a little too loudly. "And Richard and Mia as well! We'll hunt the Demi-humans and the Undead, forever!"

Gwen broke into a hearty laugh, savouring the compliment. "How good it is to be young!"

The table joined in the laughter.

"Spoken like an old aunty!" Yue's acute observation jolted Gwen from her revelry. "You know you're the second youngest, right? You sound like a crone."

"It's true, I was born with an old soul," Gwen confessed.

"Well, Aunt Song, have you packed yet?" Her oldest friend retrieved a few pieces of daikon from the boiling broth, popping the steaming vegetable into her mouth. "Our ISTC is booked for Tuesday afternoon. Master is making Gunther cook."

"There's not much to pack." Gwen flashed her Storage Ring. "Can you believe that I've been here for almost two years, and the only things I've acquired are for my wardrobe?"

"That and a reputation." Yue raised her glass. "And crystals. Mountains of crystals. FRIENDS! TO THE DEVOURER OF SHENYANG!"

"To the DEVOURER!"
"Gānbēi!"
"Cheers!"
"To Sydney!"
"To she who swallows!" Tao wiggled his brows as Gwen drank, his face red with excitement. In phonetic Chinese, the wordplay was far less explicit, though the impact on the table was no less impressive. "The SWALLOWER of Cities!"

"—C—Cough!"
"O Gods, I can't breathe."
"The chilli's in my nose!"
"Percy! You're turning purple!"

"ERRGH—" Gwen hacked and coughed, her face turning unwholesomely red as the Maotai shot up her nose. "Bloody hell— PEACHES— If that goddamned moniker spreads, I am going to feed you to Caliban!"


Of all the goodbyes, it was the inevitable handwringing at Shanghai Hongqiao's ISTC terminal that Gwen dreaded the most.

As anticipated, there were high sentiments from all her relatives, though none was more so heartbroken than her dear old babulya.

"I'll come back and visit as soon as I can," Gwen promised, cradling the old woman in her arms while the others watched. "Give me a year or two, and I'll teleport back. A few thousand HDMs and a hundred-odd CCs are no obstacle for your granddaughter."

"You have to take care of yourself in London!" Her babulya had held together reasonably well the previous week, though not so now. "And this Lady Grey, how do we know she's trustworthy?"

"She's an old friend of Gwen's Master," her grandfather intoned with annoyance, embarrassed by Klavdiya's public display of devotion. "And the Morning Star himself promised the Marchioness would look after Gwen. Stop worrying, dear. She is in good hands."

"It's true!" Gwen kissed her babulya on the forehead, cradling the small babushka in her arms. "I'll be well sheltered. Besides, who can take me on? I've got Cali and Ariel! At worst, I'll throw in Golos. They'll have to bring an army."

"That may be— but a girl should only be so arrogant," Guo criticised her overconfidence. "You'll be meeting some of the finest Mages in the Mageocracy. I would venture to say that there are at least a dozen competent casters among them."

"Pufft!" Tao snorted. "That's why the Party's lily ass exchanged Gwen for English Magisters, true dat?"

"That's classified information," Guo growled, his eyes narrowing dangerously. "Who told you this?"

"Cao…" Tao paled.

"He heard it from me," Gwen apologised. "Yeye, Babulya, I know the two of you have done so much for me since my untimely arrival—"

"I don't know about that, Yeye didn't do shit!" Tao objected. "He wanted to cage you like a bitch!"

"I'll put YOU in Tianlanqiao in a moment!" Guo's face turned scarlet.

"Peaches, shush!" Mina pulled her brother back. "What's wrong with you?"

"Tao's just agitated," Gwen intervened. Moving between the human fruit and their grandfather. "Peaches, you'll miss me, right?"

"You know it!" Tao made a gang-sign. Then, the black sheep of the Wang and Song deflated. "It was fun having you, Gwen. Thanks for coming to mah shows and helping with my lyrics. And for Petra not kicking my ass. And for talking to the old man about music."

"The pleasure's all mine." Gwen pulled both cousins in for a big hug. "Okay, gotta go. Give Uncle Jun my love."

"I will, dear." Her grandmother embraced her again. "Come home soon."

"I'll call as soon as I find a place." Gwen squeezed her grandmother, absorbing her babulya's boundless affection by hugging her tightly against her torso.

Finally, Gwen turned to her conflicted brother.

"Keep up the good work, bro." She grabbed both his hands and squeezed. "I'll wait for you."

"No need." Percy leaned in for a hug, finding his sister meeting him halfway. After rocking the young man back and forth so that the pair appeared floating at sea, Percy pulled himself away. "I am going to catch up to you, Sis. While you train, watch me make our family proud and powerful."

"Good!" Gwen patted his head. "Kick some ass out there, bud. But always remember— stay safe. And don't make Mei cry, else I'll come back here and beat you raw."

"That was the sappiest farewell I have ever seen," Yue greeted Gwen on the opposite side of the barrier. "And I've seen plenty of Frontier send-offs."

"Sorry," Gwen apologised. "I am not used to having a family."

"Nah, it was cute." Yue shrugged. "It makes me happy, you know? Back when we were kids, you were all kind of gloomy and depressing. Your mum was a psycho bitch, and Morye was a right cunt, shit was the pits."

"Yeah." Gwen glanced at her still-waving family outside the Force Barrier. To her amusement, even Guo was waving, albeit discreetly. "Those days are behind me."

"Thank fuck."

"You sure you're okay not going for the parade with Whetu? Team spirit and all that? Promos and stuff."

"Nah, I am a merc," Yue said. "Whetu and the boys, they're the heroes."

"I suppose. It's a shame I couldn't hang out with the Kiwis some more."

"I am more so surprised Dick's not coming with us."

"He's going to settle his family down, then meet us in London. We're on entirely different enrolment schedules. I've also got a lot on my plate before I can attend classes."

"Yeah, like running a bloody empire of greed. Are you as rich as Lulan's yapping? Or is she mostly hot air?"

"Ha!" Gwen grinned. "I've got enough to get by in London. I can borrow crystals to invest as well."

"How much have you got on you?"

"What, right now?"

"Yeah."

"In HDMs?"

"Sure."

Gwen held up six fingers.

"Six hundred HDMs?" Yue snorted. "Very impressive."

Gwen gave her friend the stink eye, demanding to know if she was as thick as her bosom was mighty.

"Six THOUSAND?"

Gwen snorted through both nostrils.

"SIXTY THOU—"

"One-zero-zero-zero-zero-zero—" she whispered the numbers across a silent Message. "And then some. Marong had it prepared for London. I am going to need an office, among other things."

"Christ of Naz—"

"Shhh!" She pulled the Evoker closer. "— and I've banked up just over 3000 CCs…"

Yue slapped away her friend's wayward hand. "Oi, now you're just showing off. Peaches' ain't kidding, Dragon-girl."

Gwen giggled, grinning like a shot Wyvern. "What can I say? You're talking to a bona fide rich-bitch."

When Gwen had come through her first ISTC Station, she had been so sick that she could hardly breathe. Now, with her Conjuration hitting the upper-middle tiers and her conduits brimming with VMI, she could barely feel a tickle as she translocated across thousands of kilometres.

Their first stop was Singapore's ISTC, one of the most extensive networks in the southern hemisphere. At the island nation's vast sorcery-inclined shopping mall, Gwen purchased some new clothes, a dozen pairs of shoes— all magical, and some local specialities for Gunther and Alesia. Yue followed her clicking heels, disturbed by the ease of Gwen's capitalist-spendthrift, lacking the words to voice her working-class agitation.

Two hours and a sumptuous meal later, the duo entered another ISTC platform and made for Sydney. This time, there were no complications or abductions, only a flash of Conjuration and a horrid feeling that a part of them remained thousands of kilometres away.

"Welcome to Darwin," a troop of Tower Mages greeted the new arrivals. "Please register your multi-passes at the Administration Block."

After receiving their stamps and Glyphs, the girls made a snack out of fish and chips, then awaited their turn. Forty minutes later, they embarked on yet another ISTC array, hopping from Townsville to Brisbane, then to New Castle, and finally Sydney.

"Huzzah! HOME AT LAST!" a cry of jubilation interrupted the hurried transit of travellers in Sydney's newly built ISTC terminal.

From the exit gate, the staff and the guests were enchanted by the visage of a svelte young sorceress floating across the marble floor, making for the exit.

Once outside, the girl spread her arms wide as though praising the sun, then twirled, tantalising the onlookers with her pale limbs and long hair.

"Arrrgh!"

To their surprise, the sorceress retreated no more than a few seconds later, escaping back into the shade to join her companion, a flustered Asian sorceress in military cargos and a tank top.

"Affinity predicaments?" Yue stepped into the sun beside her friend. "We're just into December, but the avo's always a right broil. Is the Aussie summer proving too much for you?"

"I could feel myself cooking." Gwen scrutinised the snail sheen of sweat covering her arms and legs. Gingerly, she examined herself for sunburn. "The Radiance index here is insane! And there's no mana miasma to diffuse the sunlight either."

"Ha! Would you like me to get you a parasol and a cup of tea, my lady?" came Yue's mocking laughter. "You're not even in London yet, and you're already acting like a shrinking violet. Ah, well— I suppose the London fog should agree with you."

"Ah, well indeed—" Gwen circulated Almudj's Essence, not wanting to show up to Alesia and Gunther's supper partially Polymorphed into a lobster.

"Whoa—"

"What now?"

Unlike in Shanghai or elsewhere, her body was brimming with vigour, as though empowered by something far more substantial than herself. If she were a religious person, she would almost believe herself at the mercy of a higher power. But, the feeling lasted only a second. In its aftermath, everything, even the air and the asphalt beneath her Mary Janes felt intimate and connected.

Gwen inhaled deeply, held the air in her lungs, then exhaled.

"What freshness!"

Yue glanced at the shuttle busses, each vomiting lungfuls of unspent mana.

The narrative has been taken without permission. Report any sightings.

"Good for you," she said finally. "So, should we take the T-Circle, the shuttle bus or a taxi? The city's completely changed since you left. Knowing your sense of direction, you might end up back in China."

"Let's share a cab." Gwen beamed, once again stepping into the sun; this time, she felt as though bathed in warm water. In the distance, she could hear the laughing of kookaburras. "Along the way, you can tell me all about it!"

"So, where you lovelies from?"

To demonstrate that some aspects of Sydney remained immutable, the taxi driver kept glancing at his rearview mirror at the two girls seated behind. Compared to the vigilant Yue, Gwen didn't mind the occasional gawker. Her dress wasn't exactly Victoriana, and her contoured calves were arguably a tantalising distraction.

"First time in Sydney? Where to? I could show your ladies the best view of the CBD if you're keen. We're on the up and up. Sydney's an up-and-coming tier 1 city!"

"Mate— keep your eyes on the road," Yue warned their driver. To show that she meant business, the sorceress materialised an ID, one that displayed her Military Rank and her Public Practice of Magic number. Thanks to a ruby-red "5" beside her Schools of Magic, the driver grew instantly attentive.

"Yes, Ma'am!"

"We got business at the new Tower. Head north after Kinsington, then swing through Paddington until you hit Town Hall."

"Right away, Ma'am!" The driver half-saluted. "No problem."

The midday traffic through Kingsford proved light as the girls made for the heart of the city. Along the way, Yue ran a running commentary on Sydney's altered landscape.

"You'll see it once you get to Master's place..." Yue spoke at length about the carcass of the Leviathan still parked in the harbour. Thanks to the tsunami that engulfed the coastal suburbs, everything eastward of the Royal Botanic Garden had to be rebuilt from scratch. Once the Mermen inhabiting the organic treasure trove were purged, the Leviathan had then been worked to the marrow, transforming Elizabeth Bay into a maritime strip mine.

Together with the east, most of Sydney CBD's quadrants had been demolished by the invasion as well. Thus far, only the central segment from Macquarie Street to Barangaroo had been reconstructed. Likewise, the crumbling, historical architecture of the city had been all but cleared, leaving wide avenues ripe for modern urban planning.

As their taxi passed worksite after worksite, Gwen saw that Gunther had tirelessly transformed his home, ensuring Sydney could no longer be easily invaded. In between the gleaming concrete and glass, the Tower Master had installed watchtowers, Divination Beacons, Shielding Stations and Barrier Checkpoints, forming an intra-city defensive grid.

"Wow— look at that! Amazing."

The biggest difference, in so far as Gwen was concerned, was the appearance of Sydney Tower. In the past, her Master's residence had been primarily a concrete fort. Built in the early 80s under Henry Kilroy's guidance, it's sole purpose was as a military installation. Now, taking a leaf from Singapore and Hong Kong, Gunther had revamped the Tower by building an extension beside its original self, marrying curved glass and transmuted steel with the sandstone facade of the brutalist original. Side-by-side, the two buildings possessed an asymmetric appeal, symbolising not only the power and wealth of Sydney's Tower Master; but both the city's past and its bright future.

"The new roads are so wide!" Gwen cooed, very much a bumpkin entering the big city for the first time. "Whoa, Martin's Square is now a pedestrian zone? And there are so many shops! I haven't seen half of these brands! Where are they all from?"

"Mostly Europe," Yue answered, trying her best not to imagine Gwen buying up the inventory. "Gunther gathered A LOT of Mages in Sydney. Thanks to the reconstruction, our employment market is incredibly lucrative right now. Master says Sydney has the highest concentration of low to mid-tier Mages in Oceania."

"What about the NoMs?" Gwen scanned the streets. In so far as she could tell, an equal volume of NoMs and Mages jostled through the crowded avenues.

"They're mostly relocated to satellite hubs outside the CBD like Parramatta, Castle Hill, Lakemba, Blackheath and so on. Now that the old NoM districts are gone, they won't be able to afford the city's centre. All the buildings here are brand new."

"That's terrible." Gwen frowned. "How about public transport? Did Gunther provide new lines to those areas?"

"The city council's working on building tramlines into the suburbs where NoMs refugees have rebuilt. They started when I left a few months ago, but I don't think there's been much progress."

"What are the refugees doing for crystals?"

"Menial jobs, I'd imagine." Yue pointed to a crew of hard-hatted workmen digging out a pit on the road, supervised by a Transmuter in a hi-visibility jacket. "Most of the folks our family used to know from Forrestville are labourers now. You know; installing drywalls, running mana conduits, tiling, flooring, carpentry, that sort of thing. Gunther says that the NOMs are getting by just fine. I am just happy that mum's doing alright, I got her a position in the Tower's refugee relief unit. She's working the soup kitchens."

"That's kind of her..." Gwen checked her reflection against the blurring city. Indeed, some things remained immutable, even under a benign dictator like Gunther.

In the rearview mirror, she noticed that their driver was once again glancing at them. This time, it was their topic of conversation that made the man beyond curious. That they kept name dropping "Gunther" now and then was also highly suspect— for what business could two young women have with the highest office of Sydney? The most perplexing thing, Gwen mused, was probably why two chicks on a first-name basis with the premier Mage of Sydney had to take an NoM's taxi.

"Yunnie, does Aunty like working for the Tower?"

"I made sure the staff knew she was the mother of Yue Bai, Apprentice to the Scarlet Sorceress." Yue scoffed. "Anyone trying to bully mum will be served to the homeless, medium-rare."

"Jesus." Gwen snorted. "And you didn't get a visit from HR?"

"H-what?"

"Never mind," Gwen withdrew her Gwenism. "How's Uncle Bai?"

"Dad's alright. He got a cushy managerial position thanks to Gunther. We're no longer living in Forrestville, by the way. The Bais are moving up in the world! We bought a new place in Vaucluse, not far from the ferries. We got those now too, by the way."

"Nice." Gwen recollected scenic Vaucluse from her old world. "That's right next to the water. Not worried about another Mermen invasion?"

"Not with Gunther in charge. That Leviathan's provided plenty of materials to upgrade all of our Shielding Stations. Its skull now serves as a permanent military installation. We've got it towed to the Watson Bay inlet, right at the entrance into Sydney— they're calling the new island Mermaid's Head."

"Classy. I suppose there's always a boon after the bust."

"There's only a boon if your city happens to have an arse-kicker capable of decapitating a Leviathan five kilometres out, with minimal preparation and no Tower backup."

"True." Gwen wondered if Gunther had gotten even stronger since his world-famous battle. "Gunther was Master's Ace."

"Pufft, then what does that make you? The cat—"

"Ma'am," their driver interrupted. "This is as far as I can go."

The taxi pulled to a stop.

Gwen materialised four LDM sticks. "Keep the change."

"Cheers," the driver intoned reverently, happy for the sorceresses to depart his coarse and common vehicle.

Outside, two guards in Fascist-white quickly accosted the girls. Different from the uniforms in Gwen's memory, the Tower's imposing attires had taken on a para-military aesthetic. The men's Merskin belt, Gwen noted, sported both a wand and a Sonic Suppressor.

"Girls. You're in a restricted area. Please leave." The first guard placed a hand on the knob of his weapon. When Gwen responded to the man's menace with a wholly unconcerned smile, his tone softened. "Sorceresses, why are you here?"

"Mate, we're here to see the Tower Master." Yue drew a Glyph in the air, which Gwen assumed to be some sort of passcode. "Take Gwen here to the Teleportation Platforms and inform Master Shultz that his little sister has arrived."

The guards regarded one another.
The one that had addressed them suddenly slapped his thigh.

"You're Gwen Song!" The young man opened his mouth wide enough to swallow an egg. "I've seen you on the Vid-casts—!"

The second guard slapped the first on the back.

"That's Miss Gwen Song you're speaking to, Private Jones." The senior of the two saluted. "Corporal Gris, at your service, Ma'am."

"Hello." Gwen inclined her chin politely. "Sorry for the hassle."

"No trouble, Ma'am." The Corporal bowed. "Please, this way. Jones is just a little star-struck."

With the guards leading the way, the two waltzed into the Tower's interior. Along the way, Gwen made pleasant small talk as she had always done, leaving the men well impressed.

"How come they didn't recognise you?" Gwen leaned in beside Yue. Now below the Tower, she was delighted to see that the exterior cladding refracted the sunlight like the scales of a certain Rainbow Serpent. Inside, the multi-storey foyer was breath-taking, more akin to an ultra-luxury hotel rather than a central government office.

"I don't much like coming here." Yue shrugged. "Master doesn't either. She says there's too much hot air. We generally spend our time in the Frontier zones."

"But the IIUC Vid-cast..."

"Gwen, you underestimate how memorable you can be." Yue smacked her on the bottom. "Now get! I've got places to be."

"You're not coming with me?"

Yue pointed a thumb to a sign that had the words "Teleportation Circle Access", followed by an arrow.

"Nah, all that classified stuff you and Gunther are going to sprout is going to give me a headache. Besides, you're going to chill with your family..." Gwen's friend parted from her without so much as an adieu. "... and I am going to see mine."

"Come in," Gunther's baritone voice resounded.

Gunther's secretary, a middle-aged Diviner, opened the double-doors for Gwen. Located at the top floor of the new Tower, the oval office offered a horizon to horizon vista of Sydney's harbour and its south-western suburbs.

"Brother!" Gwen made a bee-line for her sibling-in-craft.

In the two years since Henry's passing, Gunther had been her rock, fluidly assuming the stewardship of their Master's orphaned Apprentice.

"Sister." Gunther stood, as imposing as always in his surreal handsomeness. With outstretched arms, he caught the girl running toward him. "You look good. You're a young woman now."

"Gods, I missed you." Gwen buried her face into her brother-in-craft's chest. "You have no idea how happy I am to be back here. I swear to God, a bloody lifetime has elapsed since we last spoke in person."

"The feeling's mutual." Gunther awkwardly patted his "Sister" across the back. "Also, that's some strength you've got in your arms. Please try to refrain from squeezing out my insides. I am not a tube of toothpaste."

Gwen laughed, releasing Gunther just enough for him to feel his spine realign. With great relief, he directed her to the visitor's chair.

"First things first," she declared, flashing Gunther's Contingency Ring before chanting the secret Glyph to deactivate its magic. With a deft pull, she removed the ring from her ring finger, then placed the thumb-sized, un-glamoured diamond in front of her brother-in-craft. "Here you are— Thanks for the loan, Gunther, but your live-saver is killing me."

"You should keep it." Gunther appeared puzzled by her rejection. "It makes me happier knowing that you're safe."

"No thanks, Gunther. You forgot to mention that your heirloom is a unique artefact the likes of which the world will never see again." Gwen lamented. "You told me this was a 'decent' Contingency Ring. You DID NOT say that it was an irreplaceable, last of its kind Magic Item crafted by the House of Asscher, whose chief inscriber passed away a decade ago."

"Regardless, the utility is what makes it precious." Gunther shrugged. "What use is it otherwise?"

"How about you save it for Alesia." Gwen pushed the ring forward. "Or Gunther Junior. He or she would need it, knowing Alesia."

Gunther smiled secretively. "Are you sure?"

"I am sure. Besides, I've acquired one of my own." Gwen flashed the Continency Ring on her ring finger. "It's a Gavin Company 'Brilliant Round' from South Africa. Like yours, it's also an Eye Tyrant's Core. A friend of mine put in a good word with the company."

"A friend?"

"A Mineral Mage from Pretoria."

"The young Hertzog?" Gunther nodded. "He's from good stock."

Gwen cocked her head; her thick lashes fluttered uncertainly. "Gunther, have you been spying on me?"

Her brother-in-craft leaned back in his executive's chair. Despite the inhuman hours spent at the desk, Gunther did not morph into a "Dad" as she had hoped. Conversely, where Magus von Shultz the Combat Mage had reminded her of a warring Apollo, Tower Master von Shultz took on a gentler, bookish air.

"I kept tabs," Gunther replied, studying her face. "The Master of your other companion, Meister Bekker, doesn't have the best reputation. And Jean-Paul Bekker isn't exactly known for acts of chivalry."

"He was a cool guy."

"Cool— and cold, and ruthless, and just weird enough to be dangerous." Gunther picked up his ring, then slipped it onto his left index finger. "I've gotten wind of the deal he offered you, and no, Meister Bekker does NOT have my blessing."

"O, Gods..." Gwen's face turned instantly scarlet.

Gunther raised both hands. "I won't interfere with your life, Gwen, but I won't be kept in the dark. Is that agreeable."

"I should say no." Gwen half-leaned against the table, nibbling her bottom lip. "But such is life, I suppose. I mean, are you going to give me privacy if I chucked a tantrum?"

"No," Gunther candidly replied. "You're our little sister. You haven't even come out to society yet. You're also a Class VI War Mage."

"A what?"

"After Shenyang, you've been compartmentalised as a strategic asset." Gunther's smile betrayed the seriousness of his words. "There won't be limitations to your freedom as such, I've seen to that— but your general whereabouts and those with whom you associate will be made known to us. In Sydney, I can keep you out of the Tower's eyes and ears, but once you're in London…"

"I understand." Gwen nodded. "The perils of power, huh?"

"Especially when combined with youth," Gunther returned. "Once we're done here, I am going to send Emily to help you with getting your ID updated. For now, I'll grant you an Unlimited Class V Public Practice of Magic Licence. You should be able to use spells up to tier 5— but as always, there will be penalties if you abuse your privileges. Even as your brother-in-craft, I won't show favouritism in enforcing the rules of my city."

"Thanks, but I won't be in Sydney for long."

"How long?"

"Two weeks? I am going to visit Opa and spend some time down at the Hunters. Hang out with Yue and Alesia, probably. Other than you guys, I am all alone."

"That's all?"

"That and I brought you this—" Gwen passed a hand over Gunther's table, materialising five tomes, each as thick as her wrist.

Gunther picked up a leather-bound volume and flipped through the covers. The content was, demonstrably, both familiar and arcane.

"Accounting? Auditing? What is this?"

"A gift of knowledge for all the help you've given me. These are Professor James Ma's internal memos, collated into a manual for NoM trainees. I would venture to say that this is the sole reason Tonglv kept within budget AND managed to generate profit without wankers skimming the proceeds." Gwen's explained. "For a Tower Master up to his neck with delegated infrastructural projects, I'd imagine they're going to be quite invaluable."

"Really? That's quite the gift." Gunther opened the first volume on corporate governance. After scanning the first few pages, he nodded. "But why NoMs?"

"Ah, now that's a million HDM question." Gwen's eyes grew mischievous. "But I know how busy you are, so let's save the details for dinner. I wonder, what fine cuisine will the most bad-ass Mage in all of Oceania prepare for his prodigal sister?"