Though her nerves remained a wreck from the affirmation of Kitty's demise, Gwen knew there was a time for self-loathing, and a time to put on a happy face. In her old corporate world, an ambitious woman must always keep up outward appearances, and so by the time she and Petra had arrived at the auditorium's backstage, Gwen had meticulously prepared a flawless face to meet the press.

"Gwen! How've you been?" Anita was the first to break ranks when she saw Petra, her whole face lighting up like a lumen-globe. "Ah- Miss Kuznetsova! It's an honour. Your work with crystal spell-storage is astounding!"

"Mao! Miss Kutznetsova?" Jiro appeared a split-second later. "Hi, Jiro Peng, I've been a fan of yours since my first-year!"

With constrained politeness, Petra made small talk with her admirers while her captain accosted Gwen for an update.

"Lulu and Dick are finishing up at T2. They'll be with us soon," Gwen assured her leader. "How's it looking out there?"

"A few hundred reporters, with CCVC 1 front and centre, flanked by the foreign press, followed by the regional broadcasters, then the independent press. There are likely Tower Magisters in the VIP, not to mention Party officials from Central."

"Woo-" Gwen whistled. "Tough gig."

"Ha!" Tei smirked. "They're here for Fudan in name only. I dare say they're here to witness Yangon's liberator."

"Not tonight they're not." She indicated her teammates. "Lulan fought the Naga too, Eunae kicked ass in the duel, you fended off two teams of Mages from the back of a convoy, Richard diverted streams to save La War..."

"Alright, alright..." Tei sighed appreciatively. "I get it."

Having heard Gwen rattling off their names, the others joined the conversation.

"I am so nervous, I can't breathe." Eunae paced back and forth. "What do you think they're going to ask? I saw some Korean journalists earlier!"

"Probably about how good it felt to thrash your family." Gwen patted her Cleric on the head. "As for nerves, we're all tense. Right? Tei?"

"I don't know." Her captain grinned. "I am not the one who has to describe how I fought off a mythic Naga."

"I didn't though," Gwen pointed out. "The dragon took it down."

"Tell that the propaganda corps." Her Captain shook his head. "We have thirty minutes until the national broadcast finishes, do you need to meditate? You look tired."

"I'll be fine." Gwen gingerly sipped her bottled-water through a straw as to preserve her perfectly pencilled lipstick. Sliding one foot over the other, she shook out her stiffening calves, causing Jiro to drop his jaws and Rene to punch him in the arm, eliciting a round of collective laughter.

"Tei..." Gwen packed her ambivalence in a box and moved onto more commercial matters. "...has anyone ever taught you about the power of branding?"

Lulan, Kusu and Richard arrived half an hour later, whereupon attendants ushered them into the dressing room before stripping then dressing the duo in black. Having affirmed Gwen's sentiment for Kitty, the team collectively wore sable, with the girls in assorted attires and the boys in dark pants and blazers. Additionally, Tei had brought armbands for all of them to signify that they were in mourning. Standing in a line, Fudan's team resembled a trendy troop of fascist fashionistas ready to model funeral couture.

Yet, despite the dour attire, the atmosphere remained jovial. From the rear, Jiro and Rene jested and joked with a jittery Anita. Lulan and Eunae studied patterns on the floor, terrified by eyeballs that would soon pin them to the wall. In front of her, Tei stood rigid as a statue, while Richard appeared lost in thought, staring in the middle distance.

In truth, it was only she and Mayuree who felt genuine grief for the passing of Kitty, while the other's sadness manifested as appeasement, enduring the inconvenience of mourning out of respect for their feelings.

Gwen sighed silently, weighing the sincerity of her malaise, questioning if her upset was genuine.

The music in the hall ceased.

"NOW!" the voice of Dean Luo could be heard. "Please welcome our contestants for the 2004 IIUC, Team Fudan!"

"Gwen." Tei made himself taller, though he remained half-a-head shorter than his heeled Vice Captain. "Focus."

"I am right behind you," Richard made his presence known.

"I know." The Void-sorceress fixed the envious length of her swan-white neck. "The show must go on."

A barrage of lumen-cores burst into brilliant action, bombarding the students as they entered Guanghua Auditorium, a place usually reserved for esteemed lecturers from foreign universities and state dignitaries.

When the curtains to the side-stage parted, thunderous applause filled the generous space of the vaulted hall, welcoming the heroic victors of Fudan's first victorious assembly in more than a decade.

First was the captain, Tei Bai, with his gaunt face and prim posture, every inch the Captain of the team, radiating an aura of reliability as he performed a militant face-forward, then bowed from the waist.

Next came the Vice Captain, triggering a fusillade of blasting-bulbs as she placed one white stalk before the other, crow-black from her hair to the hips and again where the lens kissed her clacking heels.

After which was the tallest of the men, cousin to the Void Sorceress, a Eurasian Water Mage confident as a prize-winning hound, grinning like a wolf.

Then came a trio of demure girls unnerved by the attention, walking in such proximity that their Dean intervened to distance them so that the reporters could have their individual body-shots.

Behind the stalking trio was Rene with her grey blouse and dark jacket, cutting a curt figure as she strode across the stage, commanding as she grinned for the adoring crowd.

Anita followed, leather-jacketed, wearing a black singlet and midnight-grey combat pants, steel-toed and dressed for war as she thudded across the hardwood floor, waving happily.

The final member was Jiro, pearly teeth flashing, gleaming and radiant, trailed by motes of fire that brightly hinted at his blazing nerves.

Nine were the members of Fudan that stood in front of their assigned seats, leaving the final seat empty.

"All rise!" the Dean commanded, and all who had the conscience to show respect for the dead rose from their chairs.

"We shall begin…" the Dean met Gwen's eyes with a subtle nod, surprising her with his understanding and empathy. "… with a minute of silence."

"Gunther! COME ON!" Alesia coiled her legs so that she was curled like a comfortable cat on the oversized couch. "It's starting!"

"Just a sec." Gunther passed his hand over the array of petite-fours and freshly-cut fruits, then dried his hand on the kitchen towel. At Alesia's behest, he had grudgingly cleared his timetable, dislodging his endless schedule of meetings, inspections and reports.

On the far wall, the enormous lumen-caster Alesia had installed especially for the occasion was bustling with life, rapidly scrolling through a montage of logos representing the many competing universities in the on-going International Inter-University Competition. During the preliminary rounds, the broadcasts were regional, and so it was with great effort and an exorbitant cost in HDMs that Alesia had managed to route the Chinese program through their contacts in Singapore, through to Darwin, through to Brisbane and then to Sydney.

A feat made possible only because Gunther had hastened the construction of the supercell Divination Engine atop Sydney's repaired Tower.

In the seventeen months since Gwen had left for Singapore and then was shanghaied to Shanghai, Sydney had made leaps and bounds in recovering from the Mermen invasion. When the Leviathan's senseless carcass had smashed its way into Sydney harbour and wedged itself at Darling Point, it had left a wealth of resources for the recovering city. Though Gunther's strategic-class invocation had guillotined the creature, its body remained very much vital, sustained by a macro-system of brain-like organs and Cores that existed throughout its island-sized body, forming a living Dungeon of sorts.

For three more months, the Brisbane Tower and the Melbourne Tower had remained at Sydney, oversupplying the city's cache of construction Golems and utility Mages. Together, the three Towers cleared debris, exterminated surviving Mermen and enabled the city's reconstruction.

Two months in, Gunther, aided by Tower Master Fei Lin of Brisbane and Guldric Uther of Melbourne, managed to retrieve the head of the Leviathan from the depth of the harbour, reclaiming an enormous Creature Core fit for a Tower.

As Sydney's Tower Core had been left intact thanks to Gwen's timely intervention, Gunther consequently traded the Core back to the Mageocracy for CCs. The windfall of Contribution Credits was then exchanged for strategic commodities and experienced staff, furthermore expediting the city's recovery.

Another month onward, loaded with loot from the Leviathan's divided remains, Sydney's sister Towers returned to their coastal homes, with the Tower Masters bidding their new colleague goodbye. It was at this junction that Gunther received the honorary title of Magister from the Mageocracy, who then urged him to complete the Rite, an inconvenience which Gunther had bypassed while serving his Master, Henry Kilroy.

And so, after a grudging concession, the newly minted Magister Gunther von Shultz returned to his work with renewed zeal. All throughout the city, new high-rises rose like mushrooms after autumn showers. Outside Sydney's metropolis, refugees awaited resettlement. Within the urbanscape, Gunther's Arbiters were inundated with claims of lost property from ex-residents looking to not only return to their life in the city but with hopes of profiteering. Worse still, dictated by the ugliness of human nature, waves of crime, unrest, riots and even small pockets of illicit claims of sovereignty inundated Sydney's security forces, unnecessarily complicating the restoration.

If you spot this story on Amazon, know that it has been stolen. Report the violation.

More than once, Gunther had to deliver the verdict of his office in a personal capacity, either through himself or through Alesia.

As for the long-term aftermath of the Mermen's incursion, raids up and down the coast continued throughout the next twelve months, sending Alesia and her apprentice almost perpetually away from home, working Sydney's new militia to the bone. Concurrently, hostage trading with the South Pacific factions of Mermen had been carried out by the Grey Faction, though more often than not, the mental state of men and women who returned to Humanity's fold were beyond the help of restorative magic.

But despite everything, real progress had been made. The coastal Shielding Station had been reconfigured and a new system of checks and balances implemented. The Tower itself saw a swift six-month renovation and restoration before spending the next six months floating between North Head and Watson Bay, cowing any and all ambitious demi-human tribes. Once the Leviathan was dismantled, the newly formed channel it had created furthermore allowed for the construction of a deepwater port, doubling the city's capacity for cargo carriers. New train tracks and tramways were built. Parts of old Sydney, districts like Blackheath and Root Hill which had long been in decline, were re-zoned for better housing capacity and utility access. Citizenship grants were likewise sent out to attract skilled migrants, while rural regions were re-connected through an expansion of inland Shielding Forts.

As a little side project, Gunther had allocated additional funds to Blackwattle High School, Gwen's old haunt, making it a Selective Academy. It soon received a new campus dedicated to the teaching of Magic, doubling its training capacity. Principal Bartlett, perhaps in a twist of ill humour, had named the new oval "Gwen's Field" in commemoration of the fact that Blackwattle had expanded in part to Gwen's serendipitous efforts.

In turn with the city's restoration, Oceana's Factional disputes had settled in Gunther's favour. Irene Ferris, now an ally, presided over what remained of the Grey Market. The Militant Faction was likewise satisfied with harvesting the Leviathan and exterminating the surviving Mermen, leaving Gunther's Middle Faction in control of Sydney.

"Ooo, look at that!" Alesia puffed out her chest. "Our little girl's gotten fatter! Ha! I knew it! The food in Shanghai must be something else."

Gunther took up a spot just on the edge of the cashmere couch, unused to entirely relaxing his body, then reproduced the fruits and cakes he had prepared.

"She's looking hale," Gunther affirmed his fiancée's observation while fondling a pear. In his memory, Gwen had been a bony lass of sorts, appearing perpetually underfed until their last encounter, where she had received a vital jolt from that ancient and unknowable existence.

The Gwen that now appeared on the lumen screen together with Chinese characters introducing her was bright-eyed and confident, with an air of arrogance and haughtiness she previously lacked. When Gunther had first seen the girl, she had appeared a puppy ready to please. When he had rescued her at Blackheath, Gwen had been half-mad with terror. At Rosebay, she had arrived like an avenging goddess. Now, she was merely in her element.

When the lumen-recorder trained onto Richard, Gunther recalled the duty he had left Gwen's cousin before sending him to Shanghai. The young man possessed a particular focus which, properly directed, was enough for Gunther to promise a Tower position in the event of his return.

"I don't give a shit who these others are!" Alesia grumbled at the wall. "Want more Gwen! Why are they wearing all black?"

As with most Chinese programs, the producers emphasised a by-the-numbers approach, beginning with introducing the contestants, Fudan's history, a short interview with the Dean of Fudan, then moving onto their opponents, Seoul University, Kyoto University, and finally Jiantong University. What followed was a short special on Burma, with details of the Frontier's geopolitics that Gunther knew, were now woefully outdated.

"Bloody hell, it has been an hour, and we've seen Gwen for twenty seconds!" Alesia complained, munching on a sausage roll.

"Patience." Gunther stole a bite, brushing Alesia's lips free of crumbs. "I have it on good authority that we will be seeing her plenty."

And they did, for even Chinese propaganda knew a good thing when they saw it.

Gwen's first moment of spotlight came in Yangon, in a building called the Secretariat, where she challenged Seoul U's three best casters from the Lee family to a duel. What spiced up the scene was the spliced footage of a Seoul contestant abusing Fudan's healer, a Korean girl, followed by Gwen's verbal, then physical reprisal.

"FUCK YEAH, GWENNIE!" Alesia hooted when Gwen slapped the young man so hard that even Gunther winced.

"She's absurdly strong, did you notice?" Gunther recalled the reports he'd been receiving from Fudan. "That was some force."

"Brilliant, bloody brilliant! Good work, Gwennie!" Alesia waved at the lumen-caster as though their sister-in-craft was in direct communication. "Did you see that, Gunther?"

Gunther humoured his lover with an affirmative.

The next scene to involve their intrepid sister-in-craft was her halting her flight northward to save a village that had been swallowed by a landslide, followed by a close up of the emotional faces of her teammates and the grateful villagers kowtowing to the student Mages.

They left out the critical footage! Gunther amused himself with the uproar Gwen had caused in the Grey Faction, who planned to question her regarding the method she had used to revive the dead woman. If Gunther had to guess, it probably had less to do with what she did, then what Essence she had channelled from the Rainbow Serpent.

"FUCKING SEOUL! Blackguards! Scum of the earth!" Alesia almost threw her glass toward the caster when Gwen caught the Seoul member plotting to flood their village. When her Caliban wounded the young man, forcing him to use a short-ranged Teleportation Ring, Alesia broke into gleeful, sadistic snickers of "Gotcha, arsehole!"

Gunther had to admit, the girl was doing very well. Sending her to Shanghai had turned out to be a far better ordeal than he'd hoped.

"OI, YOU FUCKERS!" Alesia soon splattered the wall with a half-bitten orange when Seoul's magma giant almost took out Gwen's team. When a Cloud Kill choked their sister-in-craft, forcing her to remain within melee range of the conjured Elemental, Alesia had half-a-mind to pay Seoul U a visit through the Teleportation Circle they had in the apartment's hidden room.

"Calm down." Gunther pulled her close as to save the fruit platter. "She's got this."

When a Thunder Wyvern appeared from nowhere to demolish Seoul U, Alesia burst into uncontrollable glee, pinching and punching Gunther so hard that he had to push her out of arm's reach.

After which, more and more, their sister-in-craft shined, first with her diplomacy, then her command of accounting, then her exposure of the corruption in the mines, then her impeccable management of the NoMs, indeed, there appeared to be nothing the girl could not do.

At Indaw, Fudan's party was ambushed, and again Gwen showcased her Lightning and Void Magic, taking down a tier 8 Naga with the help of her friends, consuming the creature with Caliban.

Unfortunately, that was when the footage ended. What followed was a sequence featuring the IIUC's chief proctor, a Magister who Gunther recognised as Lutz von Schlabrendorff, appearing to explain events that lead to Yangon's independence. He apologised for the lack of records on Gwen's battle with an entity called the Tyrant, citing classified and privileged information, then narrated the girl's titanic struggle with the beast, which resulted ultimately in a regime change that led to the re-entry of the Mageocracy into Burma.

Finally, the scene changed to an auditorium, where after yet more speeches, a Chinese General thanked Fudan for their contribution.

For this and Fudan's other achievements, the university received a total Contribution Credit rating of 3310 CCs, a new record for the Asian competition. Due to the immeasurable nature of Fudan's contribution to Burma's recovery, the team had also been granted a seeded position representing Asia in the international portion of the competition.

Fudan's Captain, a Clanner called Tei Bai, then gave a speech, citing his love of the Party, his gratefulness to his family, and his gratitude to Fudan. When it came to Gwen's turn, the green-eyed beauty thanked her friends, her family, her university, the Tower, the House of M, then added a little something that made Gunther smile.

"Everyone in Australia, if you're watching, I am only here today because of your support! I want to thank you from the bottom of my heart!"

"Oh, Gunther, I am so happy!" Alesia was half-laughing, half weeping. "Gwen's all grown up!"

"Yue's not doing half-bad herself," Gunther reminded her. "She's going to be jealous if you keep talking about Gwen like that."

"No way!" Alesia denied her favouritism vehemently. "Yue's our baby!"

Gunther almost choked on a date.

In recent months, Yue had been busy working toward her immutable reunion with Gwen. Alesia had placed such hope in the girl that when Gunther had located an appropriate Flame Spirit through a spendthrift session of throwing CCs at the Mageocracy's Tower network, his sometimes sister, sometimes queen gifted the Spirit to her apprentice.

It was an astounding gesture, though certainly Yue needed a boost if she wanted to stand beside her friend in the future. His wife's apprentice was talented in the pursuit of the Path, but there were human limits to diligence.

"…. oh yes, I am very proud of her." A familiar voice suddenly drifted through the air, followed by a zoomed close up of a weaselly face covering half the lumen-projection, a visage that Gunther had previously banished from Sydney.

On stage, Gwen approached Fudan's Dean, then bowed and kissed the old man on the cheek. She then turned to her instructor, a man both Gunther and Alesia knew, delivering a bow and hug to the sound of palms clamouring for more.

When the duo finally parted and the close-up panned away, Gunther felt his entire back drenched in cold sweat.

Feeling a catastrophic, Mythic-grade danger engender beside him, Gunther stole a glance at his fiancée.

Alesia's blue eyes were the size of hen's eggs.

__Scheiße!__ Gunther swore internally. He had been so busy, and his time with Alesia had been so scarce that he had entirely forgotten to ease her into the knowledge of Gwen's tutor.

"Did I just see that?" Alesia mouthed at the lumen projector. Then suddenly, the Fire Magus exploded. "WHAT THE FUCK? WHY IS THAT FUCKER IN SHANGHAI?"

For Gunther, the wide blue yonder outside suddenly beckoned. He needed no teleportation circles to move about the city. As Tower Master, he alone had a unilateral right of movement throughout Sydney's domain.

Alesia's tightly-wound figure began to shake, her whole body shivered with rage as she stomped about the room, biting one thumb and glancing about wildly for something to kill.

_Scheiße! Scheiße! Scheiße!_ Gunther's heart sank. When Alesia was like this, there was no stopping her.

"I need to go to Shanghai," she muttered under her breath. "Gunther, get me authorisation. I am going to end that piece of shit once and for all. He's using her! After he got Master, he's sinking his fucking teeth into Gwen! I don't give a shit what the Tower announced. Letting Walken live was a mistake."

"Alesia." Gunther swallowed.

"What?" the Fire Mage snapped, shedding embers from her hair. "Don't tell me you had something to do with this?"

"Ah…" the Tower Master of Sydney, Slayer of Leviathans, a Mage without peer in Oceania quailed under the accusatory glare of his wife-to-be. "Not exactly."

"Whose idea was it?" Alesia demanded. "Not yours?"

I have to tell the truth! Gunther felt his righteous mind instilling the Credo that Kilroy had drilled into him.

"It was Gwen's." Gunther felt physical pain as the white lie left his lips. He promised to repay Gwen tenfold when the opportunity came, though for now, he could think only of his selfish survival of Alesia's wrath. "She needed a higher tier Lightning Creature Mage to instruct her, and Walken had volunteered. After a good talking to, she managed to convince me."

"Oh…" Alesia's eyes moistened. "She went to Walken? After what that CUNT did to our Master? After Sydney? AND YOU AGREED?"

"Don't put it like that…" Gunther spluttered. "It's an exchange of services, no more."

"He hugged her, you bastard!" To Gunther's surprise, Alesia began to sob. "He was touching her. I am not blind, Gunther! I know what I saw!"

"Gwen's a friendly gal!" Gunther explained. "She's handsy..."

"HE KILLED MASTER!"

"Actually…" Gunther wanted to say that, having lost his position, power, and influence and wasted half-a-century of his life, Walken had paid for his transgression. However, a single glare from Alesia was enough to snap Gunther's lips tighter than an Ironshell Mimic's lid.

The two stood in silence, a rock quietly biding its time beside a raging fire tornado.

Alesia choked back a sob.

Sensing a lull in her violent anger, Gunther reached out with a hand to wipe a tear from Alesia's well-loved eyes.

"I am going to Shanghai," she said, batting away his hand. "I need to talk to Gwen, face to face. I am going to put some sense into her."

"I don't think that's a good idea." Gunther returned. "She's going to go to the international portion of the competition soon. You'll likely miss her."

"I don't care, I am not letting Walken near her, not for another minute more." Alesia wiped her eyes. When she looked up, her orbs were full of fire and defiance. "Are we on the same page, Gunther?"

Gunther gave her a wilted expression of resignation.

"Don't look at me like that!" Alesia growled. "I hate it when you do that! You know it!"

Gunther studied the ceiling.

"God damn it, Gunther! Look at me when I am talking to you!"

Gunther's shoulders drooped.

"Get me authorisation to travel."

"Yes, dear."

"I am teleporting the whole way."

"Yes, dear."

"Don't tell Gwen!"

"Yes, dear."

"Today! Tomorrow! As soon as possible!"

"Absolutely." He nodded, whispering a prayer for their youngest sister-in-craft. "It'll take a week at the earliest..."

"Tell Yue I'll be gone." Alesia levitated towards her wardrobe on the second level.

"Are we going to finish watching this?" Gunther struck a thumb at the lumen-caster, realising his future labours were likely to be worse. "I should get back to work."

"THEN FUCK OFF!" his answer came in the form of his jacket, indicating that for the foreseeable future, he would not be hugging his hot water bottle body to sleep. "Go fuck your Tower, you traitor!"


Richard was of two minds.

A few days after the press had stripped every shred of credible information from Fudan's infamous sorceress, he received his long-awaited CCs. As an unexpected boon for acquiring Mandalay, Dean Luo generously informed the contestants that the PLA furthermore contributed an additional 169 CCs to round their total to 500.

Which incidentally brought Richard's contributions to 1340 CCs.

Arguably, his Gwen-gambit had paid off more than he could have ever hoped. However, the dangers he was facing were concurrently above and beyond anything he could have imagined. His cousin bred trouble; he knew that, but to be trafficking with dragons, bargaining with demi-gods and slaying Nagas?

He would like to attend their next round with no regrets.

"Gwen, can I talk to you for a minute?" Richard felt tongue-tied as he made his case. Ever since his earliest days at Prince's, he had cherished the sanctity of his independence, which made his outlandish request ever more uncertain.

"Sure." His cousin yawned against the kitchen chair, so defenceless and overtrusting that Richard had to look away.

"I need a favour," he said awkwardly. "If you're willing to grant it."

"Of course, Dick." Gwen curled her legs, then scrutinised his face with bemusement. "What can I do for ya?"

Am I that unnatural? Richard stopped himself from adjusting his facial muscles less he appeared yet queerer.

Richard cleared his throat.

"Do you have 1000 CCs right now?"

His cousin blinked away her sleepiness.

"I've just reached 1340 CCs with our gains from the IIUC," Richard explained. "But I can only bring over one of my parents. That and we're going to be in a lot of danger moving forward, so I would like a favour to set my mind at ease - so I can be of use without reserve."

"Ah." A look of realisation dawned on Gwen's face. Her eyes softened. "Shall we go check? Right now?"

"Please." Richard put on a smile. "I want to migrate Kwan and Tali at the same time."

"Aww." Gwen reached in and gave him a warm hug about the shoulders, filling his nostrils with the scent of shampoo. In truth, being touched was something Richard loathed, though Gwen's tactile habits had since grown on him. "You don't have to be so awkward. I haven't seen you like this in so long!"

"I know you're not fond of them."

"Richard." His cousin pulled herself away. "Don't be ridiculous! Let me get changed."

When she returned, Gwen had attired herself in a long-sleeve tee and ankle pants, hiding her face and hair with a cap. They then made for T2 at the Guanghua Towers, bypassing the paparazzi hanging about Fudan B1 by jumping over the barrier fence. At T2, however, there was no masking her identity.

"You have 1230 CCs." An enamoured clerk exchanged his discretion for an autograph. "Would you like to see the spell-list?"

"Thanks, not right now." Fudan's headliner awarded the young man a winning smile before returning to a private room with Richard, who realised the broadcast showing her dogs tearing apart the Naga must have triggered an exponential demand for Morden's Hound.

"Who should I bring over?" she smiled at him. "Mum or dad?"

"Aren't there any spells you need?" Richard returned. "I seem to recall you needed Abjuration spells, not to mention Enchantment and new Evocation incantations."

"I'll fish them off Walken," Gwen smirked haughtily. "Come on. I thought immigration was your top priority, don't go soft on me now, big guy."

"You're my number one priority." Richard brushed off the double entendre.

"I bet you tell all the girls that." Gwen burst into laughter. His cousin then hugged him so tightly that he could hear his heart beating with honest anticipation. "Congratulations, Richard."

Richard clasped his cousin's shoulders.

The acquisition of 1000 CCs had taken him the better part of a year. Additionally, he had risked life and limb and sleep to purchase a condo near the second orbital ring for his parents, as well as enough crystals to restart their lives in Shanghai. With his Kwan and Tali settled, his filial debt would be repaid, and he would be free.

"I am happy for you." Gwen's voice played beside his cheeks. "I mean it."

He returned her blessing by raising and kissing her hand, something the Mageocracy taught as a part of its formalised doctrine.

"Well…" Gwen picked up her Message Device. "Shall we eat something to celebrate?"

Lulan found her cousin Jinwei standing politely by the training hall like a lost dog. After her acquisition of her Spirit, she had hardly left the Force Cage except to eat.

"Senior Li!" the young sorceress uttered in surprise. "What are you doing here?"

"Playing message boy." Her usually arrogant cousin's face was full of politeness, so much so that goosebumps appeared on her thighs. "I am going to be straight with you. The Clan would like to offer Kusu and yourself support. Not as a part of the Sect, but as family. With the advice your Captain gifted us, we hope for your understanding. Besides, Uncle Li misses his children."

"Advice?" Lulan cocked her head, ignoring the comment about her father. She knew that Gwen had told Captain Bai to speak to her Clan, but had been too preoccupied with her new Spirit.

"She said you're going to be our brand ambassador." Jinwei appeared equally flustered. "You're going to represent us on the international stage."

"Huh?" Lulan minced the word between her lips. "I am doing it for Gwen though, not for Huashan."

"But you'll be representing us." Jinwei baulked at Lulan's brutal honesty. "By exhibiting Huashan's skills."

"I don't care about that." Lulan shrugged.

Jinwei fought to keep his eye from twitching.

"Of course." He opened his palm to reveal a jade pendant. "This will allow you entry into our branch in Taicang, south of Nantong. Patriarch Dulian Li has said that if as long as you keep up the good fight, we're happy to open the Iron Hall to you and Kusu so that you can continue your studies."

"The Inner Hall?!" Lulan's ears perked up. "With the Clan's higher-tier techniques?"

"Er... yes," Jinwei affirmed her rhetorical question. "Additionally, regarding Nantong, if you could put in a word with Miss Song, the Patriarch's generosity would be boundless."

"Alright." His cousin eyed him up and down. "Shixiong, Can I ask for a favour as well?"

"Of course." Jinwei exhaled, finally relaxing. "What-"

Suddenly, a grip of iron took Jinwei by the wrist and pulled him into the training hall.

"If you want me to talk to Gwen, then fight me!" Lulan's toothy grin made him suddenly nervous. "Make me spew, or I am not telling her!"

Dai Fung had a dilemma.

Ever since he had graduated from university, he had never thought that there would come a day when he'd worry about not having done his homework.

And yet, here he was, fearful of losing the good opinion of a girl almost five years his junior.

When he had returned to Nantong to deliver the good news of the funding he had secured, his father had patted him on the back, then additionally bestowed him the thankless task of dealing with a conspiracy of secretariat officials from Central.

"Beijing wants to up-scale stage two; that or arranging for the schedule to be pushed up," a bespectacled official informed him. "We are looking forward to your continued expertise, Mr Fung."

Immediately, Dai knew he was twelve miles in the Front and knee deep in Undead. Since Gwen's departure, with a Centurion card in hand, he had wined, dined, partied, kissed ass and had his ass kissed in return by Shanghai's high society, but he had done minimal paperwork.

And so, upon hearing that their dragon-lady was no longer in a dour mood, he hastened back to the office with a large bouquet of rare and expensive flowers.

"Too risky, never intervene when a project is running smoothly." Gwen listened to Ruì annotate Dai's report, followed by the statements from central. Not far from the duo, Caliban munched on the flowers. "Tell them no."

"I don't think that's an option." The young man kept a respectful distance. No matter how tantalising the sorceress's delicious visage, what had begun as desire had transformed into admiration, then dread. "Our orders are to expand or expedite."

"YOUR orders. If so, then expand," Dai's boss's answer came without hesitation. "But it takes time to survey the land, clear the monsters, relocate the NoMs- about as much time as it takes for Stage 2's nominal time frame."

"But the report…"

"Easy, inject an estimate three-year projection in the annual report, with a provision for the delay. Prime our creditors with a twelve-month clause for their lending, if they pre-settle, offer a minimal rate of interest, for those willing to delay settlement, offer a guarantee of purchase, option the deposit with a six-month delay."

Ruì made furious scribbles into a data slate while Dai tried his best to catch up to Gwen's train of thought. Maybe she could be more convincing.

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"Some of the committee members from Central would like to speak with you if you could make a trip to Nantong…"

"Denied." Gwen shook her head, tapping her fountain pen against a balance book. "Tell them it's a conflict of interest, tell them I am on thin ice. Tell them General Secretary Miao would like to have a word if they insist."

"Why would Secretary Miao be interested in this?"

"Maybe they can call and find out." He watched her lips curl. "October is upon us, and my international round starts in November, which brings me to our next point. Why are these reports coming to me? I thought you and Ken are taking over matters in Shanghai?"

Dai appeared lost for words. It wasn't as though he could say he still had no idea how all this worked.

"Ruì?"

"Master Fung is trying his best, Ma'am," Ruì attempted to dispel their CFO's mounting displeasure with diplomacy. "He's doing very well in securing additional funding."

"By not checking accounts and making sure no one is stealing from us." Gwen's accusation struck Dai's fear right in the flesh. "Ken?"

"Yes, Ma'am?" Ken materialised beside Dai.

"What's the latest quarterly from Chief Ma?"

"Two members discharged from the board and er- forty or so from middle management, ten from central division, plus the usual on-site issues with shoddy materials, boundary marking and labour abuses."

"Losses?"

"About 120,000 HDMs, Ma'am." Dai noticed Ken glancing at him, causing his face to flush.

"And how much has Mr Fung brought in for us?"

"About 400,000 HDMs in future investments are pledged. About a quarter have signed with Tonglv."

"Now." Their boss shifted in her swivel chair. "How many of those that Dai brought in were involved in defrauding the treasury, making a quick buck on land sales and scamming our inventory?"

Ken choked. "Ma'am?"

"The answer is about half." The ice maiden tapped a report stubbed so excessively that it was almost twice the thickness. "Dai, what are you bringing into Tonglv? How do you even hope to double the expansion when your net gain for your father's state-sanctioned enterprise after six-months is less than what I could make in a month?"

Ruì almost swooned as the numbers unravelled itself.

"How could I know?" Dai protested. Was he supposed to read the reports weekly or what? Who had time for that?

His missus boss lifted herself from the leather chair.

"I am not going to ask about your Centurion account's expenditure." She leaned against the table and rested her leg in a way that left a heel tapping the wood with disapproval. "I am also not fussed whether or not you're making money for us, but you have to realise, I won't be here in November, in December, all the way through to February, assuming our victories continue unabated. That's FOUR months, Dai, almost half-a-year. Is there going to be a Shanghai office left when I return?"

Dai sulked, his usually masculine face twisting in agony. "I can fix this."

"No. You can't," Gwen interrupted him. "Terence. Effi."

"Yes, Ma'am?" The two approached.

"Count for me how many times Dai consulted the two of you."

For Dai, the patterned herringbone carpet suddenly became very interesting.

"Ruì?"

"Master Fung is very sociable," her secretary offered her best opinion of their walking, talking avatar of nepotism.

"Dai, what's the canal's turnover for September?"

"…" Dai hesitated. His tormentor may as well have asked him for the price of a banana.

"... I see." Gwen's voice remained collected. "Did you forget why I hired Terence and Effi?"

"For accounting?"

"FOR YOU!" her voice snapped at him like a whip. "You don't have to do the accounts, damn it, but you need to know them! How in Tonglv's name are you even pulling in investments when you don't know the state of the canal's balance sheets? What are you investing? Which division? How much land is left?"

"I—"

"Did you know that the canal's orbital ring-road is contracted to Leiwong Construction, who sub-contracted to Tai-Wei, who then subcontracted it to Jianhong, an NoM firm for a quarter of the initial price? What the hell happened to competitive tender? Why is seventy-five per cent of the cost going into a drain? Why not build a TWELVE lane highway with Jianhong for half the price? When this gets upstairs, Chairman Tu will choke you like a lame dog, assuming your father doesn't first."

The angel-faced harpy sighed, then patted a petrified Dai on the shoulder.

Dai wanted to leave, but knew he was firmly entrenched in their unhappy union, riding the buckling dragon with only the abyss below.

"Ruì, brief Mr Fung." Gwen's disregard battered his bruised ego as she brushed past him. "I am going out for lunch."

Half a campus away, Marie-Roslyn Wen observed a strange numbness in her fingers.

"I am happy for you."

"Thank you, Master." Petra remained her polite self, though Wen wondered if the girl was at all being sarcastic. "Nephrite makes a curious medium."

They had been working on the regeneration-prevention properties of the Void Element on non-magical mammals when Wen's eyes narrowed at the peculiar presence of a crystalline cube the colour of mutton fat.

"Master, Gwen was kind enough to gift me with a Spirit," Petra had intoned flatly, suggesting her cousin had shouted a lobster dinner. "I managed to attune with it."

"Oh."

After the initial shock, Wen was glad her faculties had remained unruffled - for it was unbecoming for a British-educated, sixty-year-old woman without a Mineral Spirit worth its weight in Cores to demonstrably suffer a meltdown. "Very good, may I see what it does?"

"Atlas is a wily one," Petra had agreed to a demonstration. "A tier 7 or 8 Naga spirit, I am told. As such, it will take some time to master its many natural abilities."

"Ah—" Wen nodded. "I see. Many abilities. Very good."

Wen's apprentice passed a cube over the table. "The nephrite cubes are stronger, more stable. I do believe they could hold spells of equal tier to the complexity of glyphs used to seal the manifesting effect."

Wen palmed Petra's fist-sized cube, inspecting the material, noting its superior hardness and composition.

"I have not tested the full extent of Atlas' storage capacity, but I do believe that currently, out of a total of sixty cubes, I could generate another twenty. With future mastery, I would venture to say that doubling my capacity is within the realm of possibility."

"How wonderful," Petra's instructor croaked. "What else?"

"Considering the nature of Nagas, I experimented with multi-casts. Currently, I can activate one additional cube per spell-cycle." Petra threw a cube into the air, where it appeared to be caught by a semi-invisible appendage. "It's quite interesting; please observe — Light!"

The spell cube erupted into feeble daylight. A few seconds later, a new spell cube engendered.

"I am trying to figure out how to manifest more arms—"

"An arm? Your arm?" Wen interrupted her student. "Gwen gave you a humanoid, sapient Spirit?"

"A draconic one, yes," Petra demurely affirmed her master's enquiry.

Magister Wen inhaled.

"Mine was a leftover," Petra assured her Master that the gift was nothing too serious. "Lulan got the Jadeite Naga Spirit; it's stronger than mine by at least a tier."

Wen realised she must have closed her eyes for a moment, that or she blacked out, she wasn't sure. When she came to, Petra was shaking her and asking if she was alright.

"I did tell you that the Dean wanted you on Gwen's team, didn't I?" Wen changed the subject. "I received confirmation of your eligibility yesterday."

"No, Ma'am," the young woman replied. "Now, I know."

"You will be my eyes. I need you to record everything Gwen does, take notes on how her Void manifests in the field, how she uses her magic, how her enemies react, how her power grows. I'll teach you the diagnostic magic."

"Of course," Petra agreed. "I am your co-author after all."

"That's true," Wen acknowledged the fact. As Walken would say, when there's a common benefit, trust is a simple thing. From behind the sample cage, she observed her assistant's comely face, which some would say was more striking than even that of her cousin's. Had Petra elected to remain in her old profession, she would have been celebrated, feared, loathed, loved, possibly even worshipped, but fate was a funny thing to gift a girl like that with the Mineral trait. "Anything else Atlas can do?"

"That's it for now." Petra pointed to one the cages. "Master, G14 has died."

"Drat!" Wen rubbed her eyes, suddenly exhausted, an unbecoming display from a senior researcher such as herself. "I am going to take a break. As for you, lower the dosage and up the Positive Energy for F01."

Ding!

"Master?" her student demanded of her. "Gwen's requesting a luncheon..."

Sunday week.

The Song Estate.

"Oh my, you shouldn't have!" Gwen's babulya gushed at the precious stones crowding the table.

"Klavdiya's right, you really shouldn't have," Guo remarked drily.

"Ah…" Only under the watchful eye of Guo did Gwen acknowledge the hypocrisy of her gifting looted loot from Kachin to her family. "… Mayuree gave these to me as a sort of get-well gift after the Naga incident."

"Humph!" Guo grunted. "I take it these are worth many times their weight in crystals."

"Nothing I can't make in half-a-month," Gwen promised with a smile. "Think nothing of it. I'd much rather share it with Percy than sell it for HDMs at the House of M Auction."

"Thanks, Sis! Can we keep these, Yeye?" Percy palmed an apple-sized block of mutton-fat nephrite. "What are these good for?"

"The smaller pieces are for single-use protection charms like Absorb Elements," Guo explained, tapped the stones with his fingers. "The larger ones can be combined with Cores to make passive wards like Contingency Mineral Shields or Mage Armour. The Jadeite makes charms that banish extra-planar creatures, like your sister's Familiars."

"Ho Ho." Percy made a face at his sister.

"Assuming you find someone to scribe it." Gwen raised her chin. "Got pocket money to spare?"

"He'll be working soon." Guo's suspicion finally relented. "He'll be apprenticing under a kill-team from the Ghosts. Percy needs to be whetted before he grows blunt."

"You're pushing him too soon," Klavdiya complained. "Hai hated it when you sent him to Hebei."

"It's my idea," Percy intervened. "I want real combat! I want to fight monsters, and I want to see the Front! Not even Gwen has been up north, have you, Sis?"

"Nope." Gwen ruffled her brother's hair. "The Undead, eh? Can you handle it?"

"Salt purifies the dead!" Percy smirked arrogantly. "Yeye said so."

"That it does," Guo said.

"Hey, Sis," Percy snorted through haughty nostrils. "How about a duel? Want to see how much I've grown?"

Gwen made an "O" with her lips. "Ho? Feeling antsy?"

"Percy has recently attained tier 4 in Evocation." Guo's chest visibly puffed with pride. "And tier 2 in both Transmutation and Abjuration."

Gwen clapped. Being what Walken termed an Omni-Mage was no reason to make light of her brother's labour. It wasn't as though she could snort and suggest Percy spell-drain yet more vagrants.

"Do we have a Force Barrier?"

"In the training hall." Percy pointed a thumb toward the east wing. "After I blew out a wall, Yeye had his guys install a mid-tier training barrier."

"You remodelled the hall?" Kalvdiya glared at her husband.

Considering how Gwen had for months shared a single bathroom with Richard while sleeping in an unfurnished trainer's room, Guo appeared embarrassed by his spendthrift.

"Yeye, never mind that." She had since long gotten used to the favouritism, seeing it as immutable as Alesia's temper. "Come on, Percy, let's see what you've got!"

Magus Alan Ma stood just outside the fortress-like Hongqiao ISTC hub, counting the seconds in his head.

He was waiting for a beautiful sorceress, a chore that would have been the envy of his peers- until he opened the woman's dossier.

Alesia De Botton.
Female.
Age thirty-six.
A Combat Magus possessing both Evocation and Transmutation: estimated to be between tier six and seven. A veteran of the Coral Sea conflict, unofficial apprentice to the late Henry Kilroy, active in the field since she was fourteen. In 1997, Alesia destroyed the library of a Tower Magister in Sydney over a dispute, losing her military rank. Since then, she served as an independent Tower operator under Henry Kilroy. During the battle of Sydney, she managed to activate a strategic-class Spell of Mass Destruction single-handedly. Engaged to Magister Gunther von Shultz, Tower Master of Sydney. The PLA Tower considers De Botton a Class I individual with a category IV danger rating.

A Class I individual was on par with a state dignitary, while Category IV implied she was capable of wiping out a district, and that suppressing the sorceress would involve a Party lead by a Combat Magus. Neither classification made Alan's job easier.

_Psht_!

The double doors opened.

"Miss De Botton!" Alan intervened before the woman's long strides took her from the entrance.

Physically, Alesia De Botton was both stunning and commanding, though what had enthralled Alan was the sheer volume of red wrapped around the sorceress's hourglass figure, splashing the monochrome concrete exterior of the city with a rare pigment of retina-searing scarlet.

The Scarlet Sorceress paused.

"And you are?"

Alan forced himself to calm. Here was a woman who had killed more sapient beings than Alan had eaten bowls of rice.

"Alan Ma, at your service, Ma'am." Alan bowed. "I am your contact from the PLA Tower. While you're in Shanghai, I shall be your liaison. If there is anything you need, please do not hesitate to ask."

"You got the car I wanted?"

"Yes Ma'am, it's been arranged at Pudong's behest."

"Good." De Botton removed her sunglasses, revealing a pair of strikingly lapis irises that seemed to dig into Alan's soul. Startlingly, she appeared melancholic, and some of her make up was smudged. "Is there anything I should know?"

"Please refrain from engaging in combat while in the city-"

"Of course, I know that." His guest nodded. "Do you know the way to Fudan?"

"Fudan University?" Alan was taken aback by her request. "I do—"

"Good, I'll drive." The Fire Mage replaced her glasses, then wrinkled her nose as she glanced up at the enormous girth of the PLA Tower looming over the city like a monstrous spider. "Let's hurry, tiger. I've got people to sear."

"See, Ma'am?" Alan doublechecked his Ioun Stone, but his VIP was already several strides ahead, making for the wine-coloured convertible in the distance.


"Eat up! Eat up!" Gwen peeled another Crystal-Shell Scampi for her brother, reserving the creamy prawn head for herself to suckle. After the match and feeling mightily hungry due to her workout, she had decided to shout the family a Wildland feast at Sails, a restaurant owned by the House of M. Not wanting to waste the opportunity, she also called Tao, Mina and Petra, though the latter declined, citing that she was synthesising unspeakably sophisticated magic.

"A young boy needs more protein to grow!" She spooned a famously steaming scallop onto Percy's plate, feeling particularly motherly after the long absence. "Percy, I give you permission to invite me to your formal."

"Not on your life!" Percy endured his sister's teasing. "And I can eat by myself..."

"Hahaha." Gwen poked at her brother with the peeled prawn. "Feeling salty over getting arse kicked?"

Percy snapped at the prawn, almost biting her fingers, eliciting much mirth from their extended family.

"Here." Tao likewise slapped a fillet onto Mina's plate, fulfilling his filial duty. "Eat up."

Mina's lips twitched. She turned to Gwen. "Your IIUC match was amazing. You should have called us over before you fought Percy. I wanted to see your magic for myself!"

Initially in the brother-on-sister duel, Gwen had restricted herself to tier 4 spells and below in addition to setting Ariel and Caliban to watch. Taking advantage of the fact that Percy could Blink but not Dimension Door, she played tag with her brother throughout the duelling cage, occasionally blasting Percy with jolts of lightning while he gave chase, bounding from wall to wall like a jacked-up Pika, throwing salt shards that ricochetted from her double-shields. Eventually, Gwen managed a Warding Bolt and Call Lightning, leaving Percy awkwardly stuck between defence and offence. After her brother grew frustrated, she allowed him to go all out, pelting her with Salt Bolts, blasts, sprays, cages and explosions while she leisurely summoned her hounds. What followed was Percy howling in frustration as a half-dozen horse-sized Deerhound chased him about the chamber, yelping and sparking as Percy leapt and Blinked, ultimately pinning him and giving him paralysing licks.

Outside the barrier, Guo and Klavdiya had grown slack-jawed. It was one thing to hear about the prowess of their granddaughter, and quite another to see her in action. The effortlessness with which Gwen toyed with Guo's pride and joy was painful to watch, ratifying the reality that indeed, Gwen had already fought several bouts against Titan and Mythic class beings.

"I prefer a date over six-feet tall." Gwen continued her poking, seemingly determined to displace Mei. "Maybe a set of nice stilettos will get you up to speed."

Percy growled. So far, he managed a meter sixty-six.

"Yo a Transmuter, dawg, polymorph another six-inches and yo be golden." Tao wiggled his pinky, then snapped a snow crab's leg in two. "Dang, dis some expensive shit, Gwen. You making bling?"

"I am indeed making the bling." She made a gang-sign with a prawn-head and a crab claw. "Hows the crew?"

"My bros be doing finer than yo ass—"

"Alright, alright" Mina intervened before their grandfather could sour all the sashimi with a scowl. "Tao, you came to ask Gwen something, just say your damn piece, and say it properly!"

"And what would that be, Peaches?" Gwen sidled closer to her cousin, watching his eyes pivot.

"Er…" Tao began to sweat. "When you heading to the states, dawg."

"Hmmm? Why?"

"I hear yoz going ta be going overseas soon, worldwide! I ma hit up the west coast on biz, ya know? With pops. I wanna be dere when you do. We can cruz and chill in dem hills."

"You want to hang out in LA?" Gwen gestured in surprise with a scampi-tail.

"Tao's doing well with his shows," Mina explained. "Our Dad's been to the states a few times on business, so it shouldn't be too hard for Tao to apply for a visitation permit."

"Why do you want to come with me?" Gwen cocked her head. "Why not get a travel agent, or go with a tour group?"

"Whats a tour group?" Tao's brows formed the Chinese pictogram for eight. "Naw, I was jus thinking, ya know? Your crew, mah crew, hanging out. Full Gansta! Maybe bring Petra..."

Gwen again turned to Mina for a translation. Mina rolled her eyes.

"I wouldn't recommend bringing Tao," Guo intervened, his expression darkening. "The Americans aren't a part of anything, not even the Mageocracy. They're a big country but hardly unified like we are. In their cities, the bourgeoisie lives like kings while the proletariat lives like the meanest animal."

"I ain't going to find trouble," Tao protested vehemently. "I am going for music! For art! Ya dig?"

"Erm…" Gwen felt torn.

"He won't bother your delegation," Mina passed on what Tao had failed to communicate in his gobbledygook lingo. "I think Peaches wants to time his visit with your IIUC so that he could have some backup if he gets into trouble. Where he wants to go isn't exactly the safest parts of the city. He'll be with his boys, and you guys could meet up if you can spare the time."

"Yeah, we need some hunnies—"

"Peaches!"

"Ah…" Gwen realised the truth. She clapped her hands. "Assuming we're in L.A, I am happy to do that. Peaches?"

"You da top, Gwen!"

"I am going to speak to Bao," Guo grumbled darkly.

"Oh, come on, dawg!"

"Yeye," Gwen intervened. "Maybe this is good for Tao. He can see the world outside of Shanghai, open up his horizons. Maybe he can find himself over there and come home a changed man."

"A tour at the Front would make him a changed man."

"A changed man, Yeye, not a CHANGED one. I don't think Aunty Nen would like that." She patted her grandfather's hand. "At any rate, I fully support Tao wanting to better himself."

"Erg." Mina shot her brother a look of contempt. "Gwen, you put it so eloquently."

"Yeah, you tell em!" Tao threw Guo a "W", though Gwen halted him from digging himself deeper.

"Work out the kinks with your father, alright, Peaches? Also, I have no idea when I am going. It could be next month. It could be as late as February."

"Leave that to me." Tao puckered his lips. "You just do your thang."

"Alright…" she tugged free a crystalline glob of flesh from the twitching lobster. "I'll let you know."

The coming Monday, Gwen forced herself to return to training with Walken. Making big bucks, feasting with family and chumming with her cousins was all very relaxing, but her true vocation was the tireless pursuit of magical prowess.

"I have confirmation from the Dean that Petra will be joining the international portion of the IIUC," Walken informed her when they stopped to rest. "Are you surprised?"

"Not really..." she confessed.

Walken waited for Gwen to explain herself.

"...for one, you and Marie have been raging on about this Omni-Mage business. And though Petra's skillset isn't optimal, her Spellcubes are extremely flexible, AND she's the only one Wen can trust to keep an eye on me. Not to mention Wen's probably frothing at the mouth for more data. Additionally, with Petra, we shouldn't be suffering another Mind Magic incident, I hope."

Walken smiled. "Well done."

"To be straight, I think you're hyping up the Omni-magic thing." Gwen summoned a mote of Enchantment, then allowed the golden glow to fizzle. "I don't feel much different."

"It'll take time and research," her instructor assured her. "Rome was not built in a day, after all. Do keep in mind that the Imperial Metric for magic isn't exact. Spellcraft represents our best observations of magical phenomena. With your unprecedented range of Schools, who's to say you won't break new ground? Hmm? Von Shultz's Radiant magic is a good example. What Kilroy did with that boy was nothing short of a miracle."

"So, I should continue to experiment with Signature Spells like Chakram?"

"Naturally, though you have much more distance to cover yet. Of course, you could rely instead on the expertise of others. Not every Mage can be Archmage Bilby Bigglesworth, or his master, the Magi Morden."

"Are you volunteering, Eric?"

"I am humbled by your expectations." Walken bowed, tipping an invisible hat.

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Gwen chuckled. After Burma, she felt that the taut tension that existed between them had slackened somewhat. She would never forgive the man for what he did in Sydney, but she was beginning to see where Gunther had been right- that it was far more useful to keep Walken within arm's reach.

After the pleasant prophecy of good things to come, two more hours of Conjuration followed through a concourse Walken had conjured. By its end, Gwen had run her mind haggard with spell-fatigue.

In the afterglow, Walken conjured a chair and lied back against the spine. "Gods, I am no longer even a middle-aged man. I should remember that."

"Your VMI and mental fortitude are impressive," Gwen remarked. "I am struggling to keep up."

"I hate to imagine what you would become in a few decades." Walken materialised a wet towel to place on his forehead. "Ah, that's better."

"What do you think we should do next?"

"You want to keep going?" Walken made a face. "I veto your enthusiasm."

"For tier 6 Conjuration, I mean," she snorted. "I'd love to learn Teleportation Circle, but I lack proficiency in scripting Mandalas."

"Well…" Her instructor rested his eyes. "In terms of added combat utility, I would venture to learn Bilby's Hand, something in between Evocation and Conjuration. The Evocation variant allows for push, pull and crash, while the Conjuration variant allows for longer duration and more complex manipulations. Henry, I recall, had a variation which allowed for significant dexterity, and could even act as a shield. Lightning isn't the best medium, but with your current VMI, raw mana or Void would make a viable option."

Gwen's lips puckered into an 'O'.

"If you want raw power, there are loftier targets." Walken produced a thermos, then poured each of them a cup of Cylon. "How do you like that Titan-class magma one-eye Seoul summoned."

"Strong as all hell." Gwen nodded eagerly. "Can you conjure one?"

"I can." Walken nodded. "Planar Ally isn't a rare spell, just an expensive and bothersome one. It takes weeks to set up initially, even for the best of Conjurers, then after that, at least an hour to recreate the mandala. It also requires you to be an Enchanter, or have an Enchanter on hand."

"We got Petra and me."

"You're an illiterate Enchanter," Walken remarked drily. "Worse than a novice."

"Petra, I choose you!"

Walken snorted.

"Even so, we're talking about Quasi-Elemental beings here. Back before the IMS was a thing, folks worshipped them as Gods. A Planar Ally isn't a Familiar you're summoning, but a living, thinking, elemental being with individual agendas."

"Such as?"

"Depends." Walken sipped his tea. "A mundane Mage summons an Avatar of Fire, a Djinn, something like the demi-humanoid Salamander Chen Hufei has tamed, but much, much more powerful. Its first instinct is to burn everything, turn each and everything it sees into its habitat in the Elemental Plane of Fire. To the Salamander, the Prime Material is too cold, too moist, and it hates it here. Should you, the Conjurer, try to bend it to your will, you're surely going to piss it off, so your first fight is with the very thing you conjured."

"Erg…"

"The spell has control mechanisms built into it, of course, but it varies from caster to caster, monster to monster, and Mandala to Mandala," Walken explained. "We know that there are civilisations of Elemental beings that exist in the Planes, just as they do in our world. If you take up extra-planar studies as a Post-graduate in Europe, you may know more, but for now, there are three steps: conjuration, subjugation, then contract."

"Which consist of?"

"Elementally aligned crystals generally work well," Walken continued. "Creature Cores make better bargaining chips, as are particular forms of flora. In the olden days, Druids and Shamans would offer willing or unwilling colleagues, kins, maidens, kids, whole villages, the enemy city. You name it."

"And in exchange?"

"They perform favours. Though your Kyoto allies may know more, likewise, should you encounter Spirit Casters or Blood Priests from the Inca regions, they have unique rites with far more intricate methodologies. In that regard, the Mageocracy's knowledge is vastly inferior. The Commonwealth favours predictability over all else, after all."

"Well, I've got lots of Crystals," Gwen declared confidently. "And I could also prepare Cores if need be. What are we talking about, ten-thousand HDMs?"

"To begin, then more with each additional favour. I shall invite Wen if you're truly interested. She's the superior Mandala scribe." Walken then indicated to Caliban, who was playing by rolling itself like a cigar back and forth across the hall, sparking mana flares from the barriers. "That and ready a sturdy containment field. Can you imagine what would come out, if that's the calibre of beings you're trafficking?"

"Righto," Gwen called Caliban and Ariel to her, then made them invisible for the outing. "I'll let Pats know."

Outside, Gwen felt a chilling breeze the moment she exited the training hall with Walken in tow, feeling as though someone or something had walked across her grave.

Puzzled, she checked her attire, consisting of spats under her skirt and a conforming sports top under a jacket. Though the temperature had cooled in autumn, she felt plenty warm thanks to her draconic-constitution, so why was it that her thighs were covered in goosebumps?

"What's wrong?" Walken caught his student shivering.

"I am not sure." Gwen reached behind her head and gingerly probed Ayxin's scale, noting its dormancy and thanking the Yinglong that she wasn't having another draconic-episode. "I think something tripped my Divination Sigil."

"That's not good." Walken glanced about the place. "Aella!"

The Couatl materialised.

"Ariel!" Gwen sent out her Familiar as well.

Both creatures surveyed the perimeter.

"Where you headed now?" Walken put on a newspaper cap as they entered the dying sunlight.

"Supper with the team," Gwen indicated to the north of the campus. "There's a new bun shop. Think Petra will mesh with the others?"

"She has her ways." Walken grinned. "I wonder if her ice queen exterior is her true self, or if she's deliberately trying to alienate her past. To my understanding, Moscow's Mind Mage training for their agents involves very peculiar benchmarks for sociability."

"I like her just the way she is," Gwen confessed. "If she's suddenly all flirty, I don't know…"

Walken looked up, seeing that Aella had returned.

"Safe!" Aella announced, accurately mimicking human speech.

"Ee ee!" Ariel agreed.

The two then proceeded across the campus, nodding at star-struck students as they passed, suffering the occasional lumen-bulb. In the distance, the sound of motor-hoons in their obnoxious vehicles filled the air. Once she and her instructor paced past Fudan's Handan Campus, Walken paused, indicating that he would now part from her.

"Eric, where do you live?" Gwen felt suddenly curious as to where a former Magister and one of the ten most powerful human beings in Australia would make their home. All around them were high-rises in concrete and glass, surely one of them held her instructor's penthouse.

"Er…" Walken appeared visibly uncomfortable. "Why?"

"I am curious." Gwen noted the man's tenseness and grew proportionately curious. "Well?"

"I'd rather not say."

"Oh, come on, Eric," Gwen chortled derisively. "A Magister like you, in which one of these buildings do you make your lair?"

Walken pointed to a flat between two gleaming, multi-storey buildings.

"NO WAY!" Gwen gestured at a brick and mortar flat wedged between two buildings, an old 80s communist-bloc apartment straight out of Nineteen-Eight-Four. "You live in that?"

"It's homely enough." Walken evaded the subject. "In Oxbridge, I lived in a dorm the size of your bedroom for five years. In Sydney, I lived in the Tower. It was far easier that way. Didn't Henry live in his Grot? It's no different."

"What about your family?"

"They're here and there, scattered across Europe and Oceania. I have daughters. You know that, right?"

"You're still married, aren't you?" Gwen wanted to know why Walken had so much free time to spend in Shanghai.

Without warning, Walken abruptly parted from her, crossing the street with such haste that a car screeched.

"Eric..." Gwen realised she might have stepped on a landmine. She berated herself for the intrusion, realising that perhaps, even Eric had limits to his patience. "Well fuck—"

But her instructor was already gone, leaving her feeling like an ass.

_Click._

Walken closed the door to his flat, simultaneously activating his defensive rings. He had felt watched the moment he and Gwen crossed the campus, and now he knew it wasn't Gwen that their watcher was watching.

The mouldy flat was crowded with old books and unpacked boxes. It wasn't so much that Walken lacked the will to tidy the place, but that the unit was a temporary abode and he saw no need to make himself overtly comfortable in a home that arguably, he may need to abandon quickly.

And now, it would appear he had an unwelcome guest.

Upon the latch, he had placed a piece of semi-transparent Moonlit Moth silk. The material was hypersensitive to magical interference and readily dissolved when magic touched the locking mechanism. It was a mundane, non-magical method of detecting magical intrusions, one he had learned from Kilroy long ago. With Mages having access to Lock and Unlock, nothing short of an offensive barrier would deter intruders, and Walken wasn't about to invest in a site he used only to rest his eyes and stow mundane materials.

Still, his intruder had chosen wisely. Aella was too large to fit into the old flat, meaning an unsuspecting Walken would not be able to conjure his Familiar.

_Should he attack first?_ He wondered, then decided against a preemptive strike on the basis that if this were some PLA Ghost or a spook from the Militant Faction, killing their agent would only invite more suspicion.

As he placed his coat on the hanger and stowed his scarf, he readied a Dimension Door- one that would safely deposit him outside. That was another reason why he had chosen the old flat - 80s buildings lacked the complex arcanistry of materials that disrupted teleporting into and out of the structure itself. Concurrently, blowing away a decrepit old apartment was far less likely to attract the ire of powerful people, and more importantly, influential cohabiters who would demand answers.

Inside the crowded, paper-strewn living room, he felt a presence.

"I see I have a guest," Walken intoned as he entered the corridor, addressing the silhouette within. "Is it too late to welcome you to my humble abode?"

A few streets away, Gwen's mood was lightened by a satisfying feeling of schadenfreude when she spotted a haphazardly parked convertible in a loading zone being ticketed by a patrol officer.

Loud cars belonging to well-to-do Fu-er-dai wasn't unusual, though what caught her attention was the offensive way it had been parked, for four distinct tire marks lead from the opposite lane, suggesting that the car had slid into place with a great stink of rubber and mana exhaust.

Curiously, the vehicle was a glaring crimson, Italian-made convertible, resembling an old-world Alfa-Romeo married with a 918.

"Ma'am, is this your vehicle?" a youthful officer demanded of her, seeing that both the foreign car and the girl appeared prohibitively expensive.

"Nope, I am just admiring." Gwen sidled closer, catching a crimson shawl behind the driver's sea, the kind that a woman with a head full of autumn-coloured hair might use to prevent her flaming tresses from blowing out while driving.

Could it be? She studied the vehicle for more clues, feeling uneasier by the minute. If her Sister-in-craft had come to Shanghai, surely she would be informed. Gunther would have called, meaning she should be at the ISTC, picking up Alesia in person, then whisking her away to the Waldorf Astoria for tapas, jazz and drinks.

The officer cast her a curious glance before resuming his patrol, likely wondering when he'd seen her face.

"Excuse me." A middle-aged Asian man suddenly materialised from the crowd, his expression the exact opposite of calm and collected. "Are you Gwen Song?"

Gwen immediately placed herself behind the convertible, creating some distance between them. There were many NoMs about, and a fight would only endanger the public. Not far, the officer was still out and about.

"Who's asking?" She sent Ariel overhead. There was a subtle stink of ozone as her Kirin grew in size.

"Alan Ma, at your service." The Mage inclined his head while spreading both hands to show that he meant her no harm. Very slowly and carefully, he held out his identification. "PLA Tower. I hold the rank of Magus. My Uncle, James Ma is your instructor."

At the mention of her colleague's name, Gwen relaxed Ariel's hypersensitive vigilance.

"Miss Song." The Magus was sweating like a greased up pig. "I take it that you did not see Magus de Botton?"

With a sudden clarity, the source of her unease became clear.

"SHIT!" Gwen swore loud enough for the whole street to hear. "WALKEN!!"