Yangon.
Kandawgyi Lake.

Within Karaweik Palace's golden exterior, "Matriarch" Mayuree, Lady Protector of Myăma and it's Frontier provinces, reunited with her friend and saviour. The embrace was heartfelt, for though nary a year had elapsed since Shanghai, a lifetime had transpired.

Wilted was the Mia of the past, a meek little Diviner fearing for her life at every turn; she was now robed in silk, satin and authority, a glorious vision of wealth and prosperity mirroring her burgeoning city on the Yangon River's lip.

Trailing the throne-hall, twin lines of servants from menial to civil bowed from the waist while seated on their knees, engaged in genuflection. Some venerated her out of genuine worship, for Mayuree remained an inheritor of the Eight-headed Naga's blood. Others yielded out of fear for the glimmering eyes lurking in the shadowy ceiling. A few final obstructionists, half-crouched, bided their time, too proud to confess their capitulation.

Yet, bathed in the presence of a Devourer capable of banishing existence from the karmic wheel, Mayuree could see that even the hardliners quaked with soul-trembling terror.

A year was a long time for a city in constant flux. After the IIUC, Marong's Shadowmen had performed a deep cleansing of the House of M's affairs with the aid of Ruxin's compelling Dragon-tongue. Then, in March, after Professor James Ma sent the pair a company of auditors, a second reckoning had shaken Yangon's provincial government. Each time, the infamy of the Devourer had been utilised by Marong to cow the opposition.

Now, with the insurgency in hiding, the Pillar of Jade installed inside the gemmed halls of the Shwe Dagon Pagoda and the newly furbished Yangon Tower guarding her reign; peace of a kind had returned to Kachin, Manipur, Yangon and Nagaland, forming a vast stretch of fertile Green and Orange Zones. Even as Mayuree received her companion of yesteryear, a million square kilometres of the Irrawaddy River's rich-silt shores awaited transformation into fertile rice fields, while up north, past the abandoned capital of Mandalay, Dwarf-made diggers crushed the jade-rich seams to pour a constant stream of revenue into Ruxin's emerald vaults.

And most importantly, the House of M, a consortium that once existed only to retain what little resource the royal family once possessed, was now a regional powerhouse controlling the South-East Asian jade trade with a near-monopoly. It also served as the largest financial institution in Indo-China, offering itself as the Mageocracy's lending proxy.

Yangon's new seaport, taking a leaf from Tonglv, added to the trade from the Ivory Coast, the Bay of Bengal, and to the fortress city of Singapore and beyond. Concurrently, in the wake of its industrial rebirth, new public infrastructure from Shielding Stations to public schools sprouted like new fungi after the yearly monsoon. For the first time in a long time, the colonial city's streets were choked with industrious labourers, while hopeful children grew assured that human tithings to the Tyrant were a thing of the past.

"I've missed you." Mayuree ignored the stares from her ministers as she held her guest's hand like a lovesick child. It was a struggle to voice just how she felt seeing her old friend again, for though their titles had changed, her feelings of awe and gratefulness remained Mithril. She was now a ruler with the fate of millions on her shoulders and Gwen, a renowned Combat Mage and Mageocracy socialite known around the world.

"I missed you too." Her friend held Yangon's royal majesty for a long minute, squeezing the girl against her tall and imposing figure. "It's good to see you again, Mia."

"I hate to intrude, but Master Ruxin awaits." Mayuree's beloved brother, Marong, stood by her side, every inch the demure servant, no longer possessed of the arrogance and pride he once carelessly exhibited. She was his queen now, Marong had explained, and he, her subject. The only privilege he retained was the right to smoke in the throne room. "Reunions can wait."

"I just got here." Gwen gave her brother a churlish reply. "What's the rush?"

"Well, we wouldn't want to upset a Dragon." Marong exhaled nervously through both nostrils, trailing smoke as he spoke. "We're in Lord Ruxin's debt— and unlike yourself, we're not his relatives."

"Bah, Russo's long-lived," Gwen insisted. "He'll be fine."

Mayuree watched her friend dismiss the caprices of a being capable of returning Yangon to the jungle at a whim. No doubt, Gwen had matured, for the unusual age her friend previously displayed now harmonised with the allure of a budding young woman. As for Gwen's presence— Mayuree could only compare the sorceress to the Thunder Dragon who now ruled the region through mutual accord with the Mageocracy.

"... or maybe you're right. Your office is a lot busier than I imagined." To her surprise, her companion appeared uncomfortable in the presence of open, slack-jawed worship by her servants and ministers. "Fine, Ruxin it is. I'll do it as a favour for my exchequer."

Marong bowed. "You have my thanks. The Teleportation Circle is in the lower levels."

Seeing that Gwen chose to humour her insistent brother, Mayuree relaxed. While technically speaking, they were safe from the Dragon for many reasons, Gwen's favour was central to the precious peace they had carved out of blood and jade in Yangon.

"It's a shame that Shanghai proved more troublesome than anticipated," Marong commented as they made their way past the prostrating ministers. "I suppose in the end, the House of M's hand in the Tonglv confrontation trod on the Communist's bottom line. The socialists are happy to eat their own, but when you invite a Dragon to a Human buffet..."

"It's fine." Gwen dismissed the bad news. "As long as Ruxin gets his cut of Tonglv, we're good. I still need that revenue."

"The Jade has more than made up for the limitation to our enterprises in Shanghai." Marong toked deeply on a dogend. "The communists are not going to give us the freedom to take the Centurion program beyond entertainment and hospitality. Their central bank is proving to be as zealous as Master Ruxin."

"Hahaha..." Gwen laughed. "Very well, then. Say Marong, I know we talk shop a lot, and I know Mia's happy, but how are you these days?"

"Well, if you must know, I am still losing sleep over Aung Sung's rebels, the lot of them..."

"I meant you, Marong." Gwen stopped her brother before he could continue to gripe about national security. "You weren't very forthright about working for Ruxin, though now I see you two are as thick as thieves. It can't be easy both managing your sister's estate and keeping a True Dragon satiated. There's little wonder you smoke two packs a day..."

Her brother regarded Gwen, exhaled a lungful of smoke, then reorganised his thoughts. "I am alright, I suppose. If Mia's fine, then I am fine. We talk a lot about this book you've published these days."

"Oh? Which one?"

"The Mockingbird," Mayuree said. "We're learning a lot to avoid our ancestor's pitfalls."

"Aww, that's cute. Still, you should take care of yourself. Learn to delegate and go easy on the smokes. I'll leave you a few bottles of the Essence-Maotai. Get Ruxin to reward you some of their free-range Draconic ingredients as well."

"I'll... take care," Marong replied. Mayuree could see that her brother appeared affected by the concern from the Dragon's niece.

"You better. After all, we've still got Legion to test and implement in Yangon." Gwen burst out laughing as soon as the words left her lips. "Once the Dwarves make enough progress through the Murk, I'll see if it's possible to get them to send us a contingent of Magitech Engineers and Runesmiths. For now, we better fatten up Russo before his hoard shrinks again, hahaha…"

Mayuree joined the pair, filling the cold halls of Karaweik Palace with warm laughter.

Nagaland.
Saramati Peak.

Ruxin never understood his immortal father's fascination with the human female that bore Ayxin, at least until he met the female called Ruì, whose name, "Ru—Yi—" meant "wished for" in the old dynastic dialect.

But, as a hermitic Dragon for whom very few events could elicit powerful emotions, Ruì's monthly visits did gift him with genuine pleasure, and for that, his immortal self felt well-pleased.

"Is she here yet?" Beside the throne of Jade, Golos paced.

"Please be patient, Lord Golos," trilled the voice of a multi-coloured individual with a woman's upper torso and the lower body of a bird. In her feathered arms, she held a trio of chirping Harpy-spawn. These had the lovely likeness of their mother, though their feathers had taken on the vibrant hue of spawn descended from the line of the Yinglong. The Lord of Nagaland glanced at the pair: reflected in his slitted irises, "Phalera" was at least the apex embodiment of her Avian race. Conversely, Golos' chimeric whelps, despite their wanting, luminous moon-yolk eyes, were ordinary mud.

"They are arriving now, Lord Golos," Sagol Kangba, Vairagi and Grandmaster of the Shadowmen of Manipur, softly whispered from the shadows.

Ruxin felt the ley-lines beneath the Jade Palace faintly pulse.

He counted to twenty, ignoring his impatient brother and his rainbow-coloured consort while engaged in meditation. When he opened his eyes again, the double doors to the palace opened, revealing the petite figure of his maid-servant, Tika.

Ruxin watched as the pathetic Naga removed herself from his sight. With the vermin gone, his eyes met with the smug and smiling mien of his crystal tree niece.

"Russo! How's it going?" Gwen broke into an enormous grin as she strode into the jade-plated hall, her heels clicking musically on the tiles. As usual, she attired herself in a manner advertising one seeking a mate, though Ruxin always suspected the display was a ritual, a ploy or a lure, like those monsters of the Deep that possessed light-emitting mana-organs. "Mate, guess what I've got for you?"

"M-mate?!" Golos almost jumped, his eyes darting between Ruxin and the sorceress.

"It's an expression, brother, from the land of the Elder Serpent," Ruxin explained with patience lest the Wyvern misunderstood. "You should know better than I the Calamity's glibness. Have you learned nothing in your travels with our niece?"

"… I've never been to the Calamity's homeland," Golos grumbled, peeking at Gwen from beneath his scaly eyelids. "Haven't met her mother snake either."

"That's for the best, I am sure. If you anger the Elder One, its wrath may very well reduce you to Essence cinders—"

The narrative has been stolen; if detected on Amazon, report the infringement.

The girl walked right past Golos.

"Oh my god!" the Devourer squealed, passing under Ruxin's eyes with an impertinence that reminded him of Ayxin in her youth. "Phalera! Is that—"

"These are our children." The bird-being came closer, her avian eyes full of happiness. "This is Verynse, Phynase, and this is Lysaphse."

"SO CUTE!" The girl reached out to pet the chicks' heads. "Do they bite?"

"Don't you dare devour my girls!" Golos warned the girl. "Despite their affinity for Lightning, they're not tasty at all."

Gwen gave Golos a glance. It was evident what the girl thought of his brother's intelligence.

Amused, Ruxin observed the girl as she picked up a chirping harpy-chick and began to speak to it as though her intelligence had dropped to an infantile stage as well. The girl's affection surprised him, for the chicks were crude fledgelings with muddy bloodlines. A True Dragon spent aeons developing intelligence and mastery in the egg; these fledgelings were bred and spawned within eight months in a mortal shell barely large enough for a Golos-portioned omelette.

"Calamity, I want a favour." His brother was without tact as usual. "Can you spare my kids some of your Primordial Essence? I want them to grow up strong enough to fight the Da-peng!"

To Ruxin's surprise, Gwen looked to him for advice. "Fine by me. But would your Father mind, Ruxin? "

"No." Ruxin shook his head. "Their blood is... thin."

Phalera lowered her head in shame.

Gwen turned to Phalera. "Then I'll thicken their blood. One drop enough? We can re-dose when they're older. Does this make me their fairy God Mother, haha..."

"YEEEE!"
"YAAA!"
"EEEEE!"

The chicks eagerly opened their mouths to receive their blessings.

What horrors would these bird-beings become if they're weaned on the Essence of an Elder Serpent? Ruxin felt a tingle of morbid curiosity. A part of him desired to put a stop to this affront to the Elder Serpent, but as a Dragon millennia away Unformed Land, he was also bored enough to want to see what would happen.

With the doses delivered, the chicks fell asleep to digest the enormous potential now injected into their tender bodies. Golos loudly boasted that his kin could grow big enough to wrestle Big-Birds while Phalera prostrated to show her gratitude.

"Enough." Ruxin silenced his chittering family. "Gwen, Ruì said you had something to show me?"

"Ah ye." Gwen gave the chicks one last pat while their parents beat a retreat away from the irate Ruxin. Ruxin watched the girl walk into the middle of the throne chamber. "Here looks like a big enough space. You ready?"

"For?" Ruxin cocked his head. As with their kind, the girl liked her showmanship.

Gwen grinned.

"For your investment returns." She flashed both hands, revealing four Storage Rings. "Alright, Hoss. It took me a lot of effort to prepare this."

In the next moment, a wave of raw mana blew over those still sitting in the throne room. A small rive of clattering crystals poured onto the jade tiles, made far more impressive by the fact that on solid stone, the crystals jingled and clattered, skipped and jumped, flowing over one another like liquid. Each hexagonal rod, representing a single HDM, radiated the astral energy contained within its elemental prison, enriching the air with their tangible presence.

Near the door, Golos and his avian consort stared. Ruxin did not condemn his bumpkin brother for acting the idiot, for the young drake had never seen their father's treasure hoard.

As for himself, he felt his Essence quickened, just a little.

"Two million-odd HDMs is a lot less impressive in person than I imagine, but here it is. That said, if I gave you the same profit in ten-thousand HDM credit chips, it would be less impressive still," Gwen explained, drained from the exhaustive act of using mana to unload the HDMs from her ring. "I was originally going for raw Air, Water or Lightning crystals, but the volume of ore was near-impossible to stow without paying out for even bigger rings."

The Dragon's eyes narrowed suspiciously. The pile was majestic and glimmering, but really, it was big enough only for Gwen to make a bed. Without the compression applied by the Mageocracy's minting engines, raw HDM crystals made a rough collection, hugely varying in purity and element. The girl was right that if she had materialised the same volume in freshly mined crystals, the "hoard" would make a comfortable bed for Ruxin— but that would be an unergonomic gift.

"Well done. I thought you said ten years," Ruxin recalled from his perfect memory. "Is it wise to return so much crystal so soon?"

"I said I would flood your vault to the brim and then some in ten years." The girl waded through the ankle-deep pile of crystals. "Not to mention..."

His niece made a circle with her arms.

"All this— This is just the beginning. Give me your complete confidence because soon, I'll be needing A LOT more crystals. You're my Bank of Ruxin, remember?"

"I am your..." Ruxin's chest cavity tightened. Unsure of what to think, he motioned to Tika by the door. "Tika, move the spoils to the treasure room. Every last one."

Tika's shoulders drooped as her eyes swept over the small mound of crystals scattered all over the hall.

"Sorry," Gwen gave his servant an insincere apology. Ruxin wondered what his niece would think if he told her that here was the Naga that had eaten one of her "friends". Would the girl demand Astaka's Core there and then? Undoubtedly, knowing their relationship, he would be happy to oblige.

"Well then, that was an entertaining display," he confessed. "What do you wish as a reward? An item? Sorcery? Creature Cores?"

The girl approached. When she stood close enough to touch, Ruxin considered his conversation partner. The girl's Astral Body had grown since their last meeting. Not immeasurably, but more contained and controlled, akin to a compressed HDM versus its raw, excavated form. She was also glancing at his brother's bastards while making moon-eyes, cooing with her lips at the Essence-drunk infants.

"I want a favour, one only you can give, though you may not be willing to give it."

Ruxin grew suddenly worried.

"Name your demand— though I should forewarn you that unlike yonder 'Gogo', a True Dragon's first-spawn cannot and shall not be a Dragon Carp—"

"What? No!" Caught by surprise, the girl almost swallowed her tongue, a reaction that made Ruxin relax his spine-ridge.

Near the door, the stricken Thunder Wyvern fled from the shameful past of his adolescence. The Yinglong's 'first-spawn' nodded. His brother had learned shame since travelling with Gwen.

His niece shuddered at the thought of the carp-grubbing Thunder Wyvern relieving himself. "Nah, Russo, we're not partners in that sense. I would like you to speak to your Father about what plans Daddy Dear has for my friend, his shiny new Faith-filled Vessel— your er... 'aunt'?"

Shanghai.
Hongqiao.

When she first transmigrated into her present world, Gwen lamented the fact that air travel was rendered moot by marauding Air Elementals.

Now, armed with riches beyond the wildest dreams of most Magisters, she much-preferred the Conjuration-empowered workarounds used by the residents of her present reality.

The longest flight she had taken in her past life was a business trip to Argentina involving a four flight from Sydney to Auckland, thirteen hours to Santiago, then another six to Buenos Aires. Including transfers, she had remained lucid and awake for over thirty hours, finally alighting drunk and sleep-deprived, slathered with gritty, half-runny foundation.

Comparatively, in a world sans air bussing, she took a few minutes to teleport from Nagaland to Yangon, then an hour to transfer from Yangon to Kunming before arriving at Chongqing for customs processing. There, forgoing the Panda-folk yet again, she stepped into the ley-line Circles connecting Chongqing to Shanghai's Hongqiao interchange, appearing a split-second later at her desired destination.

All-in-all, the trip took two hours. Less time than it took to drive to Kensington's air lounge, check-in, buy coffee, wait for boarding, then embark.

Her travel arrangements proved so expeditious that she had arrived ahead of her escorts from the MSS, ensuing a quiet lull that gave her some time to catch up on her conversation with her Draconic banker.

All-in-all, her detour to post-Colonial Myanmar proved fruitful.

Last night, over dinner, when she had questioned her business partner about the intentions of his Demi-god patriarch, the perfect-jawed drake had evasively provided some food for thought.

First, the Thunder Dragon explained that thanks to his new abode, he was no longer affiliated with his esteemed father in any way Dragons were concerned. They were now competitors, and only after another aeon when his father soared into the Unformed Land would he return to the Yinglong's court. Assuming the other Asiatic Dragons had not themselves ascended, his "Uncles" would help Ruxin defend his father's legacy from foreign Dragons, such as the three-headed green-lizard in Siberia. Beyond that, if their scions wished to contest Ruxin, then Huangshan was his to defend. Alliances like this were why True Dragons lauded unsullied bloodlines, as the ancient kin would only aid those who bled the same Essence.

Then the topic moved onto Elvia, whose predicament she had explained to Ruxin. In the past few months, she and Elvia had patched up much of their grievances, though their friendship continued to suffer from the air of secrecy between Elvia and her patron. As her friend had not forbidden Gwen from seeking discovery, she had interpreted Elvia's reticence as an invitation.

With his role exacted, Ruxin explained that his father's position had always been a neutral one not dissimilar to the Middle Faction's propensity for avoiding extremes. As a skilled Soothsayer who was the first to "ying" or "heed" the call of the Jade Emperor, thereby acquiring the title of Yinglong, his father seldom acted rashly.

In his opinion, Elvia Lindholm must be a central character in a future event; a lynchpin in an interplay of cosmic convergence regarding a matter his father held dear. As to when, what, why, who, and how, Ruxin had no idea— but the centrality of her flaxen-haired companion was beyond doubt.

"Whether his blessing bodes ill or weal, I do not think our father will allow his Vessel to perish. Alas, I must also challenge your claim of foul play. Have you considered that perhaps, all of this could have nothing to do with you? For instance, this "Evee" of yours, you say that she is now a part of an elite Sect of Sorceror-Monks?"

"Er… the Order of the Bath, yes," Gwen had to admit Ruxin made an excellent if disturbing observation. It was Draconic arrogance to think that whatever the Yinglong had planned must revolve around herself like Jupiter's moons, but why else would Elvia be chosen? "They're an order of do-gooders, generally speaking. With the 'altruism' being whatever brings repute for the House of Windsor and 'bad' being whatever would paint them with ill-repute."

"Then what are the chances of your 'Evee' engaging in battle against some great Calamity? Like this 'Sobel' and her 'Spectre', independent of you? With her vital facilities, could she not preserve someone pivotal to some balance in the human world— and therefore our world?"

Gwen had sighed, unconvinced by the Dragon's musing.

"We keep a precarious balance among our kind." Ruxin's patience proved impressive. "Through her, for example, Father could prevent the slaying of a Chromatic whelp, thereby averting a generation of War or another Beast Tide. Either way, whatever branch of fate Father chooses to prune or preserve, I doubt Father cares about you as much as you think. That and you over-estimate our patriarch's interest in the Human world. Father could doze for a century, and all the humans we now know would be dust. Now, if you were involved with the Elder-kin, that would be—"

"Russo, you keep saying 'we'," she had remarked after measuring the Draconic scale of time against her Human urgency. "Why?"

Ruxin had given her a strange look, which when paired with his perfectly Polymorphed face, made for a comical combination. "I forget you're younger than an egg sometimes. Though I suppose time will be a better teacher than I."

After that, their conversation returned to the matter of business ventures from Yangon to London.

Gwen briefly closed her eyes, trying to imagine how her Evee was doing in Ireland. Was Mathias keeping her safe? Was the expedition keeping the Fomorians in check? The Bestiary had said that the violent and ancient fae could grow powerful enough to hunt Dragons should the fabric between the Planes grow thin-enough to allow the ancient elementals free rein. If Caliban couldn't eat Elves, how about a fey?

"Magus Song?" A pair of bowing bodies shook her from her mental revelry.

"That's me." Gwen looked up to see a pair of vaguely familiar faces.

"Good morning, Magus." The stoic-looking Chinese Mage snapped a salute. "I am Officer Wei, and this is my partner, Officer Yung—"

"… I know you guys." Gwen left the lounge, shaking out the fatigue from her body by circulating a mote of Essence. "You guys came for me when I was in Singapore."

"Ah." Wei's face grew instantly clammy. "Maybe that was… another Wei?"

"My memory is perfect." In heels, Gwen stood half a head taller than the man who once arrested her. "I mean, your partner's even wearing the same shirt."

Wei glared at his partner accusingly.

"… I like this shirt." Officer Yung complained to the devastated Wei, far less affected by Gwen's recognition of her former captors. "Besides, we were perfect escorts. She vomited on you last time, and you helped the Miss clean up."

"You fellers still working for Gramps?" she asked, genuinely nostalgic that Guo's goons were still around. She didn't dislike them, for although she possessed no fame, wealth, nor power the last time they met, Wei was very professional.

"Promoted. Wei's a Departmental Head now." Yung laughed infectiously. "Word from above is for us to accompany you while you're here in Shanghai."

"A guard detail? Surely I am a trustworthy individual." Gwen snorted. "I spent almost two years in Fudan without burning the city down, and then I fixed Tonglv and cleaned up Shenyang. Secretary Miao even commended me."

"Miss Song, we're not here for your protection or as your guards," Wei explained while staring down the passersby who stopped to stare. "It's just that. You have no idea just how famous the face of SPAM might be in Shanghai, especially after news of what you managed in Tonglv became common knowledge. For the duration of your stay, orders from Secretary-General Miao is to filter your visitors through the Ministry of State Security."

"May I speak to anyone I wish?"

"That's your freedom, ma'am."

"But if unsolicited people want to speak to me..."

"Then they'll have to go through us." Wei nodded with solemnity. "You're a Class VI War Mage, Magus Song. And a Mageocracy one at that..."

Gwen straightened out her dress, then took a deep breath.
Only nine months, and how things had changed...


Gwen's Mary-Janes clacked against the tiled interior of the Song compound, leaving behind the palatial MSS saloon with its Divination-warded windows.

Almost three years ago, when she walked through the redwood door frame for the first time, she hadn't recognised a single soul residing within its quartered courtyard. This time, she arrived with the bearing of a returning prodigal scholar-bureaucrat newly lauded by the Emperor, missing only the scarlet shower of firecrackers.

"Gwen, welcome back!"
"Granddaughter, welcome home."
"Gwennie! We've missed you!"
"Yo! Yo! Yo! Gwenabitch back in da house!"
"Sis Gwen—!"

"Welcome home, sis…"

Each of the familiar faces and voices staked an unmistakable feeling of gratitude deep into her crystal-wrapt heart, striking at the foundation of her being.

Gwen felt an unseen tension unwound like a ball of yarn.
This life, she had made the right choices.

Percy's smile fought to reach his eyes, then deserted him altogether once his sister grew distracted by their grandmother.

In any other elite family at the tier of the Songs, a young man with his accomplishments would have been hailed as a once-a-century prodigy. Nonetheless, he felt like a support prop for his sister's prima donna mid-air pirouette.

What infuriated Percy bitterly wasn't the usual story of sibling rivalry that plagued households like theirs but the complete acceptance the Songs demonstrated.

"Don't worry, Percy." His Babulya had set him aside every so often when news of Gwen filtered through the Party's information Shield Wall. "Your sister's path can't be walked by anyone else."

"Always making trouble, never a quiet moment!" Guo's dismissal continued unabated, often accompanied by a self-satisfied smile. "Ignore her, Percy. Gwen's not someone you need to concern yourself with."

"Focus on yourself, Percy— Gwen's on a different plane." Jun too had laughed off Gwen's overseas accomplishments as fact. "What else can I say when Ayxin's brother is her business partner?"

"Forget your sister." In Suzhou, even the apathetic Hai had assured him with a wink as young Sui bounced on his lap. "It's best not to be concerned at all. Much more relaxing that way, hahaha…"

Finally, Percy turned to Mei, only to cough up clotted blood when his girlfriend had given him a hypercritical glare.

"The way I like Sister Gwen is different from how I like you. Why are you so obsessed with Sister Gwen anyway? You're not bothered by Aunt Ayxin, are you?"

Percy bit his lip; the Kirin Amulet nestled between his collarbones grew warm as his emotions churned.

Dismissal.
Apathy.
Nonchalance.
These were the reactions that stoked the balefire smouldering inside his chest.

Was he not trying hard enough? Percy ground his teeth in frustration. Could he try any harder? Xiangming High School was already the pyramid's peak when it came to burgeoning young sorcerers in China. Its ranking within the Municipality of Shanghai was the product of unbridled meritocracy, a congregation of top talent filtered through tests and trials. Almost two years on, within his cohort, Percy Song stood near the top as a member of the school's Discipline Committee. Likewise, in the Municipal Militia, he held the position of a Cadet Officer with the rank of Junior Lieutenant.

Outside of school, thanks to Uncle Jun's recommendation and his grandfather calling in favours, he and Mei had also participated in every significant Purge action after the reclaiming of Shenyang.

His magical accomplishments as well were nothing short of miracles:
Tier four Abjuration.
Tier four Evocation, encroaching on five.
Tier three Transmutation.
He had a registered spell list of over thirty invocations.
And he possessed the prodigious ability to replicate all relevant magic taught to him by his instructors with a success rate unmatched by others of his age from the same school.
AND he possessed charisma, a good face, a national hero for an uncle, as well as a grandfather who retired from a public security Committee Chair, only to fall into an actual inner-Party Committee Chair.

But the reaction anyone ever enacted whenever Percy became known, be it a military camp, a function, or a gathering of Guo's inner-Party officials— was a knowing nod followed by the everpresent, backhanded comment, "So that's Gwen Song's brother…"

His frustration was also engendered by the fact that his sister's accomplishments had long abandoned the realm of Spellcraft, while he could only push forward by punishing his health. Salt was a gentler Negative Element compared to Void or Ash, but it was a Negative Element nonetheless. The Amulet kept the Negative Energy drain down to a trickle, but even a trickle could wear away fertility and vitality if abused. To combat the diminishment of his body, Percy ate Wildland food until he was sick even though he knew that there was one satiation his Astral Soul desired.

Vitality and Essence.

But without a Tower Master's backing that Gwen received, he had few opportunities to utilise Drain Life— of late, only one on the Northern Front, another during a Purge in Hangzhou's Lake District, where he enjoyed enough privacy to bolster Transmutation and Abjuration. On these adventures, Mei had followed him everywhere— serving both as his alibi as well as a gatekeeper to the constant temptation that threatened to spill.

Thankfully, in a recent expedition to the Yellow Sea, he had the luck of picking up a tier of Illusion from a Rogue Mage, a useful skill for an uncertain future.

With Gwen gone for ten months, his concern for her had diminished somewhat, becoming preoccupied with what opportunities he could garner by taking on Quests.

Now, with the prodigal princess returned, he felt paralysed by her radiant presence.

"Gwen, welcome back!"
"Granddaughter, welcome home."
"Gwennie! We've missed you!"
"Yo! Yo! Yo! Gwenabitch in da house!"
"Sis Gwen—!"
His girlfriend and party member, Mei, ran to embrace his sister while the rest of the family filled the compound with laughter.

The genuineness of the felicitous atmosphere felt like Cloud Kill stabbing at his lungs. For the banquet, other than Jun and Ayxin, Hai and his new family, the whole Song Clan had gathered for his sister's return.

When had he last heard the family laugh like this?

"Welcome home, sis…" Percy forced himself to think of simpler times when he and Gwen lived under one roof in Forestville, surviving off sambal eggs on toast. Back then, it seemed a strong wind could blow his paper-thin sister away from the apartment balcony. Now, her brilliance could bake raw terracotta into bricks.

"Percy…" His sister's face opened like a white flower in bloom, the joy on her face so striking as to make his chest contract with self-loathing guilt. Hugging Mei and then setting his girlfriend aside, she gifted him her full attention.

"Oh, my..." Gwen's measured eyes were twin smiling half-moons. "You've grown! My little Percy is finally a little man…"

Guo agreed wholeheartedly with Gwen.

Not so much that Percy was a "little man", but that his grandson had indeed matured into a hardworking young man rarely seen in Shanghai's privileged circles. To Guo, Percy was so studious that sometimes, he wondered how in Mao's name an ingrate like Hai managed to seed a son so talented and humble with a partner whose only talent was her looks.

When his friends at the Bureau insisted that it was Guo's superior genes that must have been inherited, the Committee Chair modestly declined— instead referring to his peerless wife, Gwen's dear Babulya. Knowing their colleague's ego, those old dogs at the Committee had jeered his humblebragging, demanding that he thank his ancestors neither Gwen nor Percy had inherited his bulldog exterior. Stone-faced, Guo had threatened to audit their expense accounts while his peers toasted.

Nonetheless, whatever the opinion of the other Committee Chairs in the Secretariat group, his grandson remained a rare child.

Of Guo's compatriots, few of their grand or great-grandchildren amounted to anything. Some, such as the public scorned power progeny, only understood coercion and intimidation through their father's influences. Others, such as the Fu-er-dai, were akin to the trumpeting, tongue-twisting Tao, spoilt by freedom and privilege.

Such occurrences were an insult to the older generation. In their minds, when the country still fought incursions from the Undead, Centaurs on the Steppes and caste-driven Elemental-sycophants across the Himalaya range, what kind of man-child aspired to make music?

And not even propaganda music, but western music!
And not even classical western music! But Hip-Hop?!
Where was "Hip" "Hop" when he and Klavdiya death marched from Harbin to Tianjin? The same Juche-damned Undead that laid waste to the north were still roaming the earth, and the heir of Wang enterprises wanted to waste his life rhyming non-sensically about hoods? Preposterous.

With some measure of self-caution, Guo forced himself to calm. Of the Song's youngest generation, there was Mina, Tao, Percy, Gwen and now Sui.

Mina was an able socialite, polite, meticulous and helpful to her father. As a healer, she could take either route as a businesswoman or follow in Klavdiya's footsteps.

Tao was dead to him.

Sui was still too young to be judged, though he doubted the Liu Clan would allow their 'heir' to be anything but upstanding.

Percy was a boon he had duly received from the ancestors.

But his granddaughter continued to bewilder Guo.
In their way, he and the girl had made their peace. Yet, he felt a wariness when dealing with her that did not extend to other members of the family, not even his Demi-daughter-in-law, who possessed a mind that could move mountains but the guile of an infant.

If you come across this story on Amazon, be aware that it has been stolen from Royal Road. Please report it.

In recent months, he and Secretary-General Miao had kept their confidential Message Devices open to their counterpart in London. The news that had filtered through to Guo via the CCDI's international channels had made him immeasurably proud but also hesitant as to whether an Elemental had pierced the veil and usurped Gwen's Astral Body.

According to London, post-Tonglv, his granddaughter had busied herself with real estate on the Isle of Dogs, aided by indentured Dwarves who had contributed Runsmiths, Engineseers, Alchemists and even their precious Fabricator Engines, all to serve the whim of a teenage girl.

Demi-humans?! Guo wanted to vent his bewilderment. What in Tao's "ill-rhyming" business was his granddaughter doing with Demi-humans from the deep floors? Was this what she meant by having lived in the "land down under"?

Then the girl started a printing press.
He recalled Miao had given him strange looks.
Shouldn't Gwen be in a preparatory course for Cambridge? What was the correlation between printers and bridging-courses?
But then, of course, news arrived that she started a Newspaper and not only that, its circulation was eating established publishers alive because it was free and wholly crafted to cater to NoMs.

"… is the girl spreading the Teachings of the Red Book?" Miao had announced with reverence. "By Mao, what a precious child!"

But when they received copies of the paper, Miao and Guo's brows grew full of wrinkles.
_Baking recipes?_
 _Celebrity news?_
 _Latest Magitech for NoMs?_
 _Paid Classifieds?_
 _A trading post?_
 _Investment tips for the Non-Magical citizen?_
 _The Count of Monte Cristo?_

Without a doubt, Capitalism had gnawed away the girl's good senses.
Over the next few editions, Guo also bore witnesses to numerous lumen-pictures of Gwen wearing semi-living diaphanous leaves that did away with her dignity, burning his eyes with fiery shame even as Miao coughed and tried not to laugh.

"I have three grandsons, one her age— " The Secret-General spoke to the ceiling. "The oldest is older by a decade, though that might not be a bad thing. My youngest is graduating from Tsinghua this year and has been tapped to enter the CCDI as a junior cadet, training from the ground up."

Guo recalled staring at his counterpart, his mind numb with possibilities.
It was one thing to be the relative of a Dragon-princess who had chosen his son out of the blue— and a whole other thing to join hands with the director of the CCDI. While any other Committee Chair would drool at the opportunity, Guo knew well there was no such thing as a free lunch. Eventually, when Miao lost power— every macaque taking shelter in the grand trunk that was the Middle Faction would fall into the Yellow River and drown in the wake of Clan Miao's passing.

Politely, Guo declined the suggestion.

After the newspaper, the girl's press released a book in support of justice for NoMs.

Not economic justice, Guo noted with displeasure.
Just "justice" in the sense that NoMs deserved it as much as a man dying of thirst deserved a drink of water. The context made no sense to him, nor did the uppity attitude of the Arbitrator father. He much preferred the French novel about the secret treasure of Napoleon and its cautionary tale about a man consumed by his desire for revenge.

Then after that, Miao passed a memo that Gwen had made an eye-watering amount of crystals in the short span she had resided in London. The total volume wasn't near as much money as she had generated through Tonglv, but the implication was different. In Tonglv, his granddaughter's crystals were bundled with stakeholders far beyond her lonesome power to move. Though she could freely spend her proceeds, moving the wealth elsewhere was something the Party would dissuade with extreme prejudice. In the "Free" West, however, she could exploit the masses as she pleased.

As for the amount, the volume of Crystals she dispensed to Ruxin was around two million.

Guo had to write out the numbers in Elementally derived Middle Eastern numerals to make sure there were six zeros behind the "2", after which he stared at the paper. Had the Songs ever possessed that many Crystals in the course of their millennium-old history? He asked himself. Their ancestral home in Hubei might be worth that much, but who in their right minds would sell the land of their forebears? Only the rootless capitalists!

"Nainai! Ye-ye!" Gwen bowed from the waist. The girl was wearing the dress her grandmother had gifted her upon their first meeting— a gesture that made Klavidya tremble with emotion.

But for a Chairman of the Confidential Communications Committee who had sent two of his best men to keep his granddaughter well-segregated from the masses, he understood his feelings a little too well.

Between him and his wife, Guo would leave the loving to Klavdyia.
As for himself, Guo wholly embraced the anxiety, fear and weariness that came with guiding Gwen. With Ayxin at least, he understood that she was an actual daughter-in-law who happened to be a Dragon. With Gwen, however, he couldn't shake the idea that perhaps, she was a Dragon masquerading as a Human granddaughter.

Once she polished every dish on the banquet table, Gwen chewed the fat with her cousins and her baby brother. For her present trip, she had only a night and day in Shanghai, and then she would teleport to Singapore, where Gunther and Alesia would await her arrival.

Each to each, Gwen regarded her present company. Of her family in China, it went without saying that her bond with Babulya was most precious. Klavdiya's care was without condition, and though grandmother and daughter had shared no similar interests beyond each other's lives, the exchange between them felt the most genuine.

Closely behind was Percy, bound by two lifetimes of affection. Listening to Percy's unassuming digression of his endless commendations and accolades, she could see the pleasure on Guo's face and the genuine happiness her grandmother felt for her husband and their heir.

Beside Percy, Tao yawned.
Gwen chuckled. "The Big Peach" occupied a particular spot in her bosom. It wasn't that they had anything in common other than lineage, but that The Big P's unbridled passion and his devil-may-care attitude toward what other's thought tickled her pragmatic heart in strange ways. Her cousin had talent— she knew this; how else could a rapper perform a multi-instrumental Illusion solo alone? What his elders did not understand was that Tao was a man born in the wrong place and in the wrong time. She was confident, however, that given time, she could make good on the promise of touring the USA with Tao in tow. Though she knew nothing of recording crystals in the states, just from the rudimentary music industry in the UK, Australia and China, she could see that consumer entertainment was a Wildland Black zone.

"Are you and the 'boys' doing well?" she caught the colour of her grandfather's face changing as Tao told his tale of trying to bring hip-hop to Shanghai's masses without success, lamenting that Gwen was "making bank" while he wallowed in mud.

"Me and da bois are doing good," Tao assured her nonetheless, throwing a few arcane gestures her way. "Big Dog collects your pictures, for the lonely times…"

Tao wiggled his brows.

Mina covered Tao's face with a napkin.

Gwen laughed out loud, undeterred by Tao's dubious charms. "As an infamous someone, how's my 'cred' on the homefront, Peaches?"

"Higher than a Roc, dawg!" Tao declared. "Even mah motherfucker's impressed. He says yo development of the Isle of Dawgs is naffink short of a miracle. The old bastard's got a lot to learn from you."

"Ah-Wang says it's too bad he didn't have the foresight to work with you more closely while you're still in Shanghai," Tao's mother joked half-seriously, so desensitised by Tao's indecency she no longer noticed it. "Can you help Tao, Gwen? Our Peaches rarely listens to anyone, not even Ah-Wang, but he seems to listen to you."

"Mr Wang's far too kind." Gwen pushed away from Tao's father's excessive endorsement. "And I'll do my best with Peaches."

"No need to be humble," Mina said. "We should all thank you, my father included."

"How so?" Gwen raised a brow. "I am not even in China."

Her cousin glanced at their grandfather. Seeing as Guo did no object, she leaned closer conspiratorially and began to explain to her the Song and Wang's present fortunes.

"After you sold Tao's talent to father, he's decided not to force him." Her cousin's eyes were gleaming. "Which leaves me..."

To Gwen's delight, Mina explained that since Tao had decided to embrace music, she was now the heir apparent. While usually, women did not inherit the family business, that cultural prejudice had been made moot by Gwen's showing at the Isle of "Dawgs", as Tao puts it. Further on, Mina remarked that Gwen's rising social capital and their grandfather's "friendship" with Secretary-General Miao also served to bolster her influence over Wang Enterprises, and this wasn't even taking into account Ayxin's relationship with Jun. Indeed, three years ago, Guo was slated to retire from his role. Now, their grandfather sat above his old superior, not far under Miao himself.

All-in-all, the Song family had reached a new height of influence and power in an epoch characterised by China's burgeoning globalist ambitions, now accelerated by the rapid retreat of the Cult of Juche from Manchuria.

"Aren't you the one to thank for all of this?" Mina asked.

"Bloody hell—" There was a barely audible groan. When Gwen looked up, she saw Percy rolling his eyes.

"Tell us about the Doofs!" Tao cut in just as the atmosphere grew strangely anxious. "Does their music have rolling rocks in it?"

Gwen burst out laughing at the Translation Stone's rare misnomer. Her Master's Ioun Stone was so great she had utterly forgotten that they were conversing in different languages.

With some added spice, she told the story of her drunk-singing the Dwarves into submission with a rendition of Misty Mountain.

With the youngsters talking away, plates of dumplings made by Klavdiya arrived. Between mouthfuls of minced Wildland boar cut with garlic and chives, Gwen answered questions about her adventures in London, especially her work with Dwarves and her meeting with the Elves— two Demi-human races absent from the long homogenous "Central Country".

Naturally, Peaches grew enthralled by the topic of ageless Hvítálfar women, while Gwen promised Mina she would gift her one of the Elven dresses.

"I hope your venture in London isn't another Tonglv," her grandfather spoke after observing the children's chatter. "The Fungs deserved what they got— but to have a Dynastic Clan plucked like a boiled pheasant…"

"I heard that Professor Ma's classes are using your drafts as case studies," Gwen's Babulya changed the topic of conversation to divert her grandfather's incoming rant about Capitalist evils. "The new students are publishing papers to try and analyse the economic impact of your actions. Your old Professor's on the up-and-up, he and his NoMs are now an established branch of the CCDI's Internal Revenue Audit Committee."

"That's good because Tonglv is in phase three now." Gwen pictured the endless array of enterprises drooling over land and licence sales. Phase III was the redevelopment of Nantong into a city of manufacturers. If successful, she even had plans to build her future Divination Towers there. "It's out of my hands, though. I've signed it all away."

"I know, dear." Her Babulya sighed.

"Yoooo! That's what my Dad's most impressed with," Tao said. "To let go like that, at the right time, with the right poise, my motherfucker says you've got balls. Dragon Balls."

Gwen almost dropped her dumpling.

"Are you doing things by the book in London?" Guo asked suspiciously.

"I've paid all my taxes if that's what you mean." Gwen gave her grandfather an ambiguous smile. "Everything is double audited, internally and externally. There's a great deal of philanthropic work under the IoDRP as well, mostly headed by Evee— do you remember Elvia Lindholm?"

Guo rested his chopsticks. "Is what I've heard about your friend true?"

"That she's joined the Order of the Bath?" Gwen tested the water. Her grandfather wasn't referring to her thinking of dating Elvia, was he? If so, then either Petra or Richard was a lot less reliable than she had imagined.

Guo raised a brow. "The Ying..."

"—Ah." Gwen wiggled her brows in turn. "Yeah. That's true. You can put it in the bank."

"What's the world coming to?" Guo shook his head. "Chinese Dragons are now possessing Gweilo Vessels?"

"Maybe the Yinglong is a Yin-long?" Tao guessed at the topic of their conversation, using the Chinese homophone of "heeding" interchangeably with "lascivious" to infer to the sexual infamy of Dragons.

Guo, who'd been moodily chewing a dumpling, suddenly choked and began to cough.

"Tao!" Her Babulya was shocked. "If Aunty were here, she'd make you beat yourself black and blue."

Gwen grimaced, trying not to imagine the "Big P's" furious self-flagellation. "Babulya, how's Uncle Jun, anyway. It's a shame I've missed him this time."

"They're training in Huangshan," her Babulya advised with a wink. "Ayxin's getting impatient, so they're going to try where the Yinglong's Essence is strongest."

Gwen immediately dismissed her Babulya's candid vision of Uncle Jun and Ayxin trying to conceive even as a peculiar analogy invaded her head.

Ayxin and Jun, swimming back to the holy mount to breed, climbing the jade peaks to fertilise eggs?

What were they, Salmon?

"Ah, well." Gwen shrugged. She had no time to fly to Huangshan. Besides, it would be beyond rude to pass over her father's head and not say hi or stop to see Sui, her new baby brother, so leaving the meeting for next time would be best.

"How's Lulu doing?" she asked Mina; not flying to the mount also meant missing her Sword Mage.

"I am glad you asked. Are you free after dinner?" Mina asked in turn.

"Sure." Gwen had until the next morning to Teleport to Singapore. "What's up?"

"Lulu and Kusu are both at the House of M, waiting for you."

"Why didn't you say so?!" Gwen chided her cousin, who glanced at Guo.

"Go!" her grandfather growled. "None of you are children anymore. Do what you want. Just don't cause trouble."

"Trouble?" Gwen snorted dismissively, hooking her outstretched arms around Percy and Peaches' necks. "Do we look like the type to cause trouble?"


Shanghai.
The Old Districts.

The M on the Bund, Gwen felt, was the right choice for a reunion.

The first time she was "taken out" by her cousins Mina and Tao, it was to this cafe by day, underground fight club by night. Here, she met Dai, fought her first duel in Shanghai, and was near-arrested for cockfighting. After that, thanks to actions by Mayuree and Marong, the M on the Bund had become a favoured haunt for her new circle of friends, mainly because she had been poor and Mia had footed the bill.

Now almost eighteen-months into the epoch of Centurion Credit, the House of M stood as a playground for the wealthy and privileged in Shanghai. The source of the House's prestige lay with Marong who had secured the once riotous venue by proportioning out profits to influential Party members, choosing to harness social capital over wealth.

In this way, the House of M was now the venue of choice for the Guan-er-dai and the Fu-er-dai. Here, the progenies of power resolved disputes through duels, found happiness in questionable pursuits and exchanged grey market goods, all under the watchful eye of their guardians— as well as Marong's Manipuri Shadowmen.

Prior, there had been a collective hush when the military-plated vehicle arrived. Now, Gwen inspired a sucking-in of breath as she stepped onto the curb, aided by Wei.

Gone was the demure china-blue apparel she received from her Babulya. Instead, she wore a naughty black dress purchased from a London designer with a flair for the Elven.

Quickly adjusting her hem, she waited as Tao and Mina rendezvoused with Percy and Officer Yung from the second saloon, then made for the entrance.

"Esteemed young Misses and Sirs." The six or so doormen bowed before accosting the group. "Do you have an invitation?"

Before Wei acted, Mina snatched at the air like a Conjurer performing a trick, revealing a Centurion Card. The sight was enough to draw a collective murmur of awe and envy from the queue, to which Gwen nodded with pleasure at the reaction. From the crowd's longing glances, it meant the marketing Marong had put in place at her behest was working well.

The security Mages hurriedly unhooked the velvet rope barring entry to the club. "Welcome to the M on the Bund, Ma'am. May I ask for your preferred destination? The jazz lounge, karaoke, the M Club or the duelling ring? We shall ready a suite before you arrive."

Gwen looked toward Mina.

"The duelling ring."

Gwen raised an arched brow.

Mina gave her a secret smile in turn.

"This way." The leading concierge half-turned— then suddenly paused. A hint of recognition abruptly registered in the man's eyes, changing the tone and pitch of his voice. "Ma'am, may I enquire if your Ladyship is the esteemed Miss Song?"

"Dat's right, bitches!" Besides her, Tao could no longer contain his smugness. Wherever there was a crowd, Gwen observed, Tao's inner Peaches threatened to spill. "Mah 'Cuz' here is the world-famous Devourer of Shenyang!"

Gwen winced the moment the words left Peaches' flapping lips.
As expected, the unhappy, chittering queue of gawkers checking out the giantess fell into a stunned stillness.

"So that's Gwen Song…" someone murmured.
"It's her; I recognise the... eyes."
"Mao, she looks exactly like her SPAM advert…"
"Can a Void Mage live in a tier 1 city?"

For Gwen, it had been some time since a peanut gallery had turned her into a curio. Perhaps it were the cultural differences between Shanghai and London; East versus West; or simply that there were more Magisters in London than one could shake a Wand at. In London, not once had the actual public stopped to stare as though an Owl Bear was giving birth on Broadway.

Then, to her surprise, the tightly packed crowd began to disperse.

"Looks like you're more famous than you think, sis." Percy smirked.

The departing crowd collectively chose taciturnity, bowing, nodding, curtsying and backing away with forced smiles. Within the minute, the hundred or so well-dressed party-goers flocked for the shadows, leaving Gwen's party watching woodenly by the entryway.

Once more, Gwen looked toward Mina questioningly.

"What you did to Dai," Mina explained while shaking her head. "And by extension, the Fung Clan has become a fabled allegory among the youth."

"What 'I' did?" Gwen's tone turned churlish. She could understand if these assorted progenies wanted to kiss her hand or her feet, knowing their fetishes, but to turn from her like she was a Void Plague?

"Word on the street, Gwennabitch," Peaches illustrated with rare sobriety. "Is that those who woo you or attracts your ire will suffer the pain of excommunication from their House or Clan. The journalists call you the Saviour of Shenyang, dawg, but in the hood, we call you the C—"

"Peaches!" Mina hissed.

"— Calamity!" Peaches blurted forth the four-syllable word.

"… Calamity it is." Gwen breathed out with a sigh. Looking at the empty line, she supposed a deserted club was better than no club. "Alright, come on. Let's hope Lulu's got better luck with the guests."

In the underground arena of the infamous House of M, Shanghai's midnight children spell-duelled for honour and ego.

Officially, there existed not even a remote possibility that any an illegal activity would be condoned by a Party whose watchword began and ended with social "Harmony". Unofficially, such a facility HAD to exist, and if it must, then it might as well profit its backers.

Compared to the Devourer's infamous initial visit, the "House Arena" now sported a tier of Abjuration akin to IIUC competitions. On the floor, shape-shifting terrain-plates that generated any number of exotic battle-settings sheltered Anti-magic Wards to keep contestants cool in the heat of battle, enveloped by continuous Walls of Force.

Usually, a cacophony of squealing women and hooting men ran circles around the oval area, placing bets, quaffing drinks and baying for blood.

Tonight, however, even the premier Adjudicator Magus Ji Meng Yuu remained unusually reticent.

In the VIP box, Kusu Li checked his Message Device for the umpteenth time.

"Are they here yet?" Ruì downed a shot of mana-rich rice wine, her teeth still chattering after what Lulan had done to her last victim.

Kusu wanted to know the answer to that question as well. Checking his device once more, the Sword Mage from Huashan felt so anxious his bladder throbbed. From memory, driving from Wujiaochang to the Bund couldn't have taken more than forty minutes, even taking traffic into account.

"The Winner is Miss Lulan Li!" A burst of Illusion-empowered fireworks smothered the ceiling, followed by scant cheers and a few half-hearted claps.

On the far side, a contingent of Healers, one at least at the rank of Magus, dragged a rag-dolled body out of the arena. Beside them, an NoM crew wiped the blood from the Wall of Force.

"You." The petite figure on the stage pointed to a group of ashen-faced young men and women sitting like Wildland quails at a street-side butcher in Wuhan. "You're next."

A young man, the object of his sister's finger, twisted his face with an expression of undisclosed inner agony. Kusu could see that he and his lackeys knew they had stepped on a Warding Glyph, and they had apologised, in a way— but Lulu was neither one to take on apologies nor sycophantic pleas.

"Miss Li." The young man stood, straightening out his suit to soothe his nerves. "If you do not accept our sincerity even after what you did to Pei, then you're truly making an enemy of the Sun family."

"The Arena, NOW." His sister's face was all rime, and her voice was December frost. "Or apologise to Ruì. Or I fight you out there. No rules, no healers, no magic dampeners."

The young Mage's lips twitched; for a young master, grovelling to an NoM peasant was a fate worse than Lulan. It didn't help that somewhere in the dark, Kusu could hear the sound of people failing to suppress their glee.

The Sword Mage's temple throbbed.
Here was the reason he never allowed Lulan to visit seedy places like the M on the Bund. Ever since her Heart of Iron days, his berserker sister was always low on what Gwen coined as emotional intelligence. It took an insidious mind to navigate the twisted path outside; his sister's thought process, conversely, was as straight as a shot of Panzerschreck.

A few days ago, when news arrived that Gwen would stay over for a day in Shanghai, Lulan had flown back from Ryxi's abode hoping to see their friend and saviour. Over the last nine-months, Lulan had greatly enhanced her fighting potential by training in the ancient methods provided by the White Serpent of Huangshan, her Shifu. Having mastered the early stages of the Plum Blossom Sword, she had wanted to show off her progress to Gwen, whom his sister had professed to serve as a vassal when the Devourer earned her Tower and by extension, semi-autonomous extraterritoriality.

When she spoke to Mina about duelling Gwen, Mina had recommended the underground arena run by the House of M. With her Centurion Card, Mina explained, they could eat and drink to their leisure, as well as book the fighting pit at a moment's notice, assuming Gwen could attend. As a result, Lulan had dragged Kusu, herself, and the hardworking Ruì out to meet Gwen.

And as expected, almost without fail, trouble found them.

Sun Liyun, the Mage Lulan was currently chopping down to size, was the son of someone who was someone, or so Kusu figured. His bodyguard, a man Lulan had pulverised with a single Heart-Seeking jadeite slab at medium range, was a Magus of no small renown at the M's duelling floor.

Kusu felt sorry for the bastard, for Sun's highly paid bodyguard had stepped into the arena only because Lulan had earlier sent three of Sun's "friends" to the infirmary.

The first bout had ended with a Cloud Striking Palm that shattered a woman's jaw, the next with a round-house that mashed a man against the wall. Yet another concluded with a sword swing that turned an Abjurer's arm U-shaped, then after that came the bodyguard, though none of their bodies had satiated Lulu's bloodlust.

But Kusu couldn't blame his sister, not this time.
As the old saying goes, "If you don't try to die, you won't die."

The whole event happened earlier when Lulu had ordered an expensive drink called "Sex on the Beach", arriving concurrently at their VIP booth with a boisterous group of Guan-er-dai headed for the stall next door.

The moment Sun's eyes had rested on his sister, the Mage's lips curled, a reaction understandable to Kusu.

Lulu was the most beautiful beauty he knew, more beautiful than even the Flower of Fudan, attractive enough that passersby suffered from whiplash. Every so often, he wished that Lulan would look more like Ruì, who was mundane, not tall, nor skinny, nor pale like nephrite, just pleasant enough to look nice.

Opposite, Sun Liyun was a perfectly handsome, perfectly educated, perfectly rich kid with HDMs to burn. The young man and his buds were out on the Bund for a good time, probably after studying hard all week, and Kusu had no desire to see the sod arrive at the morgue with nary enough bits for his family to identify.

"Hey, beauty." The young man had begun with the softest white rice pick-up Kusu could imagine, so lame that Kusu had gone into crisis mode. How did this Sun not recognise Lulu's lovely face? He had baulked. His sister wasn't as famous as Gwen, but she had graced the billboards for a few months after the IIUC. And though news of Lulan had died down after she left for training, who could forget a face like his sister's?

Lulan had responded by raising a hand and shaking her head, dismissing the catcall.

Naturally, the Guan-er-dai were undeterred.

"Go away," Lulu had next replied. Kusu recalled feeling very proud of Lulu's self-restraint.

"Beauty, give us some face." Sun Liyun then proceeded to the next stage of auto-erotic asphyxiation without even a wrinkle of the brow. "So that you know, I am Sun Liyun."

Watching Sun's face filling with hope, Kusu had decided he wanted to save the young man's bright future from himself.

"Mr Sun's fame is well known!" Kusu had raised a glass of water, for neither he nor Ruì liked alcohol. "Unfortunately, we are waiting for an important guest. If Mr Sun doesn't mind, please permit us to grace your presence at a later date."

"You are…?"

"Kusu Li." Kusu had bowed his head respectfully but not in subservience. "Of Mount Hua."

Technically, he and Lulan were no longer linked to the Clan. Still, as Elder Li was now digging for ore in some Orange Zone and the Clan had given its "Outer Sect" prodigies unanimous support, Kusu was well within his right to wield the Clan's title.

Thankfully, Sun had bought the bill. Raising a glass of amber liquid, he toasted Lulan. "Well met. I've always admired Mount Hua. To your health."

Turning to his sister, Kusu had furiously wriggled his eyebrows.

Sighing, Lulan raised her liquor and drank.

Kusu was half-way to relief when, to his complete chagrin, Sun's companions then approached with smirking fox-faces, each holding a glass.

He wanted to facepalm.
How many ways did these people want to die? Did they write wills before coming to the House of M?

"Hey, you— why don't you drink to Brother Sun's health as well?" One of Sun's female companions had pointed to Ruì.

Ruì's face had grown instantly two shades paler. While working for Gwen's holdings in the House of M and overseeing Tonglv and Ruxin, she knew her position well. Outside of the company, however, an NoM was an NoM.

"I don't think Brother Sun cares for a common—" someone behind Sun had hollered half-way before suddenly realising the lack of mana radiating from Ruì's body. "Wocao! She's an NoM!"
"Whahaha— they brought that here?"
"Why is there an NoM in the VIP box?" someone protested. "Kick the filth out!"
"You sure know how to play, Brother Li," another voice roared. "With a sister like that, you're still turning to NoMs?"

The narrative has been stolen; if detected on Amazon, report the infringement.

Against the jeering, Ruì had assumed a mousy demeanour, her eyes studying the floor.

_Splash!_

Before Kusu could stop her, Lulan had picked up the glass that one of the men had placed on the table and threw the contents in a wide arc toward Ruì's tormentors. Instantly, a half-dozen Mage Shields sprung up, protecting their casters from the cocktail but at the cost of no small chaos among the clamouring crowd.

Kusu had then positioned himself in front of Lulan, knowing that a single Shattering Sword from his sister would reduce this crowd of future "leaders" into strips of Dragon-carp bait.

_Please don't attack!_ Kusu had prayed to his ancestors. He wasn't sure if he could tank the spells from these Guan-er-dai with his implements, but he knew they would not survive if Ruì so much as lost a single hair.

"Esteemed Guests!" Thankfully, the voice of Magus Yuu, overseer of the duelling arena, had burst around them like a Fire Bolt. "If you have grievances, look no further than to the arena. Should you fight out here, I hope you can face the consequences."

They had all turned to gaze at the wizened old organiser. Yuu was a veteran and a well-connected Abjurer with actual skill; how else could he become the custodian of a place as rowdy as the House of M's night club?

Before Sun Liyun could address the respectable Magus, Lulan had Misty Stepped into the arena without a word, her expression a dense slab of cold iron hungering for hot flesh.

"You— you— you and you." His sister had raised her sword hand. "Come at once."

Kusu had figured that Yuu must know Lulan's identity, for the triage Mages were already standing ready beside the duelling box. At the same time, Yuu's nonchalance also gave Kusu a good idea of what Sun Liyun was worth and how influential his family may be. Additionally, the Magus likely knew Lulan's spells— for though Elemental Magic could be dampened and made harmless, the "mass" of a raw slab of hyper-dense jadeite could not.

"I'll teach this little bitch a lesson, Brother Sun." A young woman, an Evoker by the looks of her, had leapt into the arena in defence of her man. "She'll be kowtowing in no time."

And the rest was spleen-splattering history.

Kusu knew the only way to save Sun now was if Gwen arrived to change his sister's mood. Once again, he raised the Message Device to his face, dialling in the Glyph code with a flourish.

_Ding!_
 _Ding! Ding!_

The sound came from the entryway.

"THANK MAO!" Kusu almost burst into tears. "Gwen! Miss Song! Over here! Over here!"

Responding to Kusu's wild gesticulation, all eyes turned toward the silhouettes descending the stairs.
With Gwen's arrival, Kusu's worried eyes ignited with hope.

That undeniable, alluring mien!
That poise and presence!
That air of confidence!
In all of Shanghai, there was no equal to the face of SPAM.

In front of Gwen, two grim-faced Mages with the aura of throat-slitting razors opened the path for their newly arriving guest. Besides the leading sorceress, Kusu hailed the appearance of Mina Wang, heir to Wang Enterprises, juxtaposed by the half-hunched, swaggering "Wassap!" that was her brother. Behind the trio, Kusu could see that the Song's rising star, Percy Song, moodily followed.

"Gwen!" Lulan's murderous mood changed at once, erasing Sun and Co's presence from her mind. With a heel-stomp, his sister Misty Stepped from Sun Liyun's circle to greet their saviour, her ponytail wagging with happiness.

Gwen embraced his sister before Lulan could bow. "Lulu! I've missed you as well. What's happened? Oh hey, there's Ruì as well. Hi Ruì, good work with Russo!"

Ruì stood and bowed.

Kusu turned to regard Sun Liyun and saw that the young man had gone completely white. The heir to the Sun Clan might accept that a beating from his sister was at least an honourable way out, but he now faced the Shanghai spokeswoman for SPAM.

For the city's established families, the Devourer of Shenyang was an impressive title but not one that gave them pause. After all, it wasn't as though Gwen could unleash her Shoggoth in Shanghai. But as the victor of Tonglv and one who had single-handedly uprooted the Fung Clan with its millennia-old roots, there was a standing order to keep a wide berth between themselves and the Worm Handler of Fudan.

"Trouble?" Gwen looked to her bodyguards, who began the process of removing Sun Liyun.

"It was a misunderstanding!" Impressively, Sun made his choice before Gwen's men even opened their mouths. Striding forward toward Ruì, the young man bowed from the waist, then remained stooped as he spoke. "We had no idea Miss Li and her friend were affliiates of the granddaughter of Chairman Song. With all my heart, I humbly beg for forgiveness. To show sincerity, we are willing to accept any punishment!"

Ruì looked to Gwen, then Lulan, then to Kusu. "I don't mind..."

"Well said, Master Sun," Kusu interjected before Gwen or his sister could speak. "Take care that this never happens again. Now go."

"Thank you!" Sun gave Kusu a nod of gratitude as he passed. Wasting no time, he gathered up his entourage, then quickly skulked from the scene, leaping up the velvet steps with the aid of Expeditious Retreat.

Kusu exhaled. It wasn't easy saving a whole Clan from self-annihilation.

Opposite, Gwen chuckled, then held his diminutive sister's hand with a self-satisfied smile.

Around the club, those whose curiosity overruled the warning from their elders stayed, while the other half of the guests chose to relocate to other parts of the club.

"Well done, Sis." Percy laughed when Gwen's expression grew concerned. "I haven't seen a room clear this fast since someone in the barracks said they found a bite-mark on their ankle."

Gwen gave her brother the evil eye before turning to Lulan. "Wow, Lulu, you look fantastic. That aura! And the mana! Your growth is incredible! What were you doing just now? Showing the youngsters here the ropes?"

"Ryxi has taught me well," Lulan said, then without waiting for the ice to thaw, his sister retracted her fingers from Gwen's grasp, then delivered the cargo that had been stowed rent-free in her mind. "Gwen, I want you to duel me seriously."

The Devourer of Shenyang stared at his guileless sister. Kusu understood her dismay, for Gwen had not even warmed her buttocks before being asked to fight with all her might.

Gwen stared at Lulan, her eyes measuring the Sword Mage from head to toe. The Omni-Mage must have read his sister's sincerity, for the next moment, she gave her consent.

"Alrighty then." The girl grinned. "Let's see how far my Lulu has come."

"Miss Song." One of the men accompanying Gwen coughed politely. "You're supposed to stay out of trouble."

"Just stretching my legs." Gwen smiled back. "Besides, Lulu's a teammate and a future employee. We're revising our training."

Kusu observed their saviour, sensing that something about Gwen had changed. Both physically and mentally, she seemed in tune with her now older self. During the start of the IIUC, Kusu always felt that the youthful mien possessed by Gwen did not suit her mature presence. Now, Gwen appeared more comfortable in her skin.

"Oxford or Harvard?" Gwen asked once she was inside, kicking off her heels and stowing them as she twirled her long hair into a tightly knotted bun, revealing the slender nape of her neck.

"Harvard." Lulan Misty Stepped to join her, likewise removing her shoes, one heel still dripping blood. "Use Caliban or Ariel, and buff how you will."

Kusu felt his chest constrict. "Lulu, be careful."

"We'll stop when it hurts," Gwen's assurance was not very reassuring.

Those spectators who had not left by now gathered close, happy that they were going to witness a battle to brag about in their old age but also wary that should the barriers fail, there would be no old age to worry over. But they stayed nonetheless, firstly because they were young and reckless, and secondly because of the hormones fogging their brains. It was a phenomenon that Kusu understood, for no one drew eyeballs as readily as the Devourer other than his sister, and now the both of them were in one spot.

"Caliban! Ariel!" Gwen conjured forth her Familiars. To Kusu's untrained senses, Ariel manifested as its IIUC self. Conversely for Caliban, Kusu felt the snake had grown by magnitudes.

"Shaa!" Caliban rushed for Lulan.

"Cali! Back!" Gwen commanded the creature. "Fight first, then hug!"

"Shaa! Shaa!"
"Ee! Ee!"

"Agility! Strength! Constitution!" Their IIUC vice-captain matched Lulan buff-for-buff, missing only Lulan's signature Iron Skin. "And one more thing so you can go all-out— Sanguine Mantle!"

In front of a wide-eyed audience, the Void Sorceress produced a vial of scarlet serum, unstoppered the contents, then released a free-floating ball of liquid to hover about her person.

"New spell?" Lulan assumed a fighting stance, one that Kusu recognised as the opening form to Huashan's Plum Blossom.

"New Abjuration," Gwen answered as an insidious, inky Void-sphere enveloped the contents of the vial. "Whatever happens, until my vitality's depleted, it'll keep me on my feet, so feel free to go hard. Should I start, or do you want to go first?"

"We'll go at the same time."

"Alright." Gwen raised her hand. "Ariel! Lightning Bolt!"

The invocation half-formed before Gwen had even finished the incantation, demonstrating a passive Affinity that bordered on complete mastery. At once, twin bolts of Lightning leapt from Ariel's horns while from Gwen's fingertips, a bright blue arc erupted into a thigh-thick bolt of pure power, turning the dark club incandescent.

"Plum Blossom Sword— Verdant Spring!" Lulan announced her attack for the benefit of her competitor. Unlike most Western magic, the esoteric arts of the warrior ascetics focused entirely on internal discipline, striking with the force of a cyclone but the subtlety of a gentle breeze.

The moment the Lightning blazed, Lulan was gone, leaving only a slab of iron to act as a grounding rod for Gwen's assault.

In the blink of an eye, his sister closed the distance between them, her hand forming the somatic incantation for summoning Huashan's signature sword strike.

"Shield!" Gwen's famous double-glazed barrier erupted in the form of an enormous semi-dome large enough to keep two Lulans at bay, taking full advantage of her abnormally large VMI. The unorthodox defence was enough to catch Lulan flat-footed, as she hadn't anticipated Gwen to spellshape her barrier. "Void Seeker!"

The speed at which Gwen completed her incantations left Lulan little room for hesitation. In quick succession, she stepped on Gwen's shield, using the hardened barrier as a springboard to dodge the incoming chakram of Void.

"Parry!" A rough slab of half-formed iron ate up the target-seeking disk of Void. "Heart-Seeking Sword!"

_CLANG!_

Such was the speed of Lulan's spell that the sound of the blade striking the double-glazed barrier happened a split-second after her invocation.

"Good work, Lulu." Gwen remained unmoved. "Cali! Ariel, Ball Lightning!"

"Shaa— Shaa!" Cali came on in its spider form with all its limbs waving in the air, sending the guests recoiling from the barrier wall with ashen faces.

On Lulan's side, a surge of Transmutation in the form of "ki" informed Kusu that his sister was getting serious. A brief vision of a six-headed Naga formed behind Lulan, visualising the Spirit inhabiting her Astral Body.

Behind his sister, as though Lulu possessed additional eyes, two blades of jadeite three meters long pierced the encroaching Caliban, momentarily pinning the spider Fiend to the floor like a specimen.

In front, four rods of jadeite as thick as Gwen's waist, half-mixed with rusty chunks of oxidised iron intercepted the barrage of target-seeking electricity, giving Lulan enough time to perform half-a-dozen Misty steps around the closeted battle area. Once Lulan was confident Gwen grew disorientated, she let loose the spell she had been nursing.

"Shattering Sword!"

Since her training, Ryxi had absolved Lulan of much of the pastiche arts borrowed from Spellcraft, modern magic and Huashan's remaining manuscripts. The long-ranged spell that Gwen had devised for her friend, Panzerschreck, had now become amalgamated into its final form— The Flower Shattering Sword.

"Dimension Door!" Gwen must not have possessed the confidence she could stomach the killing blow with her Shield alone, and so re-appeared nearer the ceiling mid-invocation. Her choice proved correct, for the sword first stabbed into the double barrier with a Clang! Then erupted into ten thousand shards of razor-sharp jadeite.

To buy time, Caliban directly transformed into its Big Bird form, sending the spectators reeling while simultaneously parrying the fragments with its metallic feathers.

"Ee!" Yet another twin-bolted pair of Lightning flashed across the area, near-striking Lulan as she twisted and turned through the air with supernatural agility. Having perfected the step-formation technique from Ryxi, his sister's movements grew too erratic to predict, especially with her at-will usage of Misty Step.

"Petal-Plucking Sword!" Lulan extended an arm. The Spirit of the jadeite Naga grew fully visible for a brief moment.

"Blade Barrier!" Gwen's spell and Lulu's sword strike manifested concurrently, sending the whirling generators containing the battle into a frenzy.

From nothing, a vast array of spinning blades of force, now wreathed in lightning, materialised both on Lulan's path of assault and her retreat, instantly transforming Lulan's forward momentum into self-defeat. Ahead of her, Gwen hovered, but in her way were three sets of rapidly spinning, star-shaped force-swords. Behind her as well as everywhere in the oval were these same rotating mincers, each crackling with electricity. What's worse, below her awaited Big Bird Caliban, its neck distended, waiting for her to lose momentum.

But if Lulan forfeited now, then she wouldn't be Lulan.

"Lulu!" Kusu saw his sister enclose her fist, pulling the blades closer so that they wrapped her like a suit of armour. Then, maintaining her head-long rush, she charged in-between two sets of whirling blades.
_SPAK! SPAK! CLANG!_
 _CLANG! SPAK! SPAK!_

An ear-grating array of noises denoting the meeting of an immovable object and an unstoppable force, throwing such a shower of bright sparks that the interior of the underground abode once more turned incandescent.

"Lulu!" Kusu shouted. "Control yourself!"

Though Gwen had resolved much of Lulu's chi issues regarding the Heart of Iron, Kusu's sister had lived with the excess Yang energy in her body long enough to turn her bane into a boon. Even so, there was a cost; compared to the others in their Clan, Lulu's berserker form was as pronounced in power as it was burdensome on her psyche.

When finally the light died down enough for all to see, Lulan emerged from between the blades, her clothes in tatters, her skin whipped and welted and her hair a whole crop shorter than before.

Kusu winced. He liked Lulu with long hair, as did Ryxi, who liked to dress Lulu in moon-silk attires from the Tang and Ming dynasties.

"Shield!" Gwen had not anticipated that Lulan would rush through a deadly, Mage-mincing barrier. "Lightning Bolt!"

Lulan discarded her sword shell, opting for a quick finish.

Just as Gwen's barrier formed, four more sword-slabs smashed into the dome, turning the surface opaque.

This time, Lulan chose to eat the Lightning Bolts to maintain her forward momentum. Watching the hysterical upper-tier energy dance across his sister's singed skin, Kusu felt his organs grow suddenly old.

But the sacrifice was enough for Lulan to reach the double-glazed shield. "Shivering Blossoms!"

Kusu's throat constricted.
When had his sister grown so great?
Gwen was arguably the most peerless Mage he had ever worked with, possessing the largest mana pool known for someone not already a Magister.

Yet, Lulu was going to make the hope of the Mageocracy yield in a one-on-one battle? Were the girls not best friends, Kusu would almost imagine that Lulu was scheming to use the Devourer of Shenyang to prop up a reputation for herself, or at least put herself in a position to promote China's burgeoning nationalism.

The "Blossoms" struck.
With a sound of suddenly shattering glass, Gwen's Shield disintegrated. Lulan reached in and conjured another sword, this one just long enough to hover an inch away from Gwen's quivering white collarbones.

"Do you yield?" Lulan huffed, her chest rising and falling rapidly as her organs worked furiously to replenish the energy drained by the rapid series of non-stop movements.

"Do you?" Gwen smirked in turn. "Look down."

Kusu looked up at the same time as Lulan looked down.
The air shimmered, then Caliban's Spider Form re-appeared.
Gwen wasn't flying, but instead standing on Caliban's segmented torso.
Presently, just as Lulan had a sword to Gwen's throat, Caliban's all-consuming maw was less than half a meter and a split-second away from dragging Lulan into the abyss with an array of hissing tentacles.

"How?!" Ruì gasped, unable to help herself.

Both Mina and Tao made their awe known, as did Gwen's guards.

Below, the Big Bird Caliban shimmered, performed a convincing "Shaa!", then faded from view.

_An illusion!_ The crowd murmured in turn.

Still, who was the victor? Kusu wondered, then realised the stupidity behind his naive conjecture. Hadn't Gwen had earlier activated something called Sanguine Mantle? Assuming the spell was anywhere near as stout as her shield, the girls' exchange wouldn't be at all equal. At worst, Gwen would be maimed and incapacitated, while Lulan would have taken a long trip down to tentacle town.

"I lost." Lulan retracted her sword with an expression of self-loathing.

"You held back," Gwen said. "No Vibration Sword earlier? You could have cut through my shield anytime. My Mantle didn't activate, but who knows if you're able to slice through it."

"You held back on using Void Spells," Lulan said, shaking her head. "If that had been Void Bolts and a Void-aligned Blade Barrier…"

"We're not duelling to the death, Lulu." Gwen unsummoned her Blade Barrier, but left her Familiars. Once the girls alighted, Caliban and Ariel both rushed to comfort Lulan, giving her face a tongue-bath even as they made figure-eights between her legs.

"I wanted to be of use," Lulan mourned her loss, both hands keeping Gwen's pets at bay.

"You ARE of use, or will be," Gwen assured her, joining the huddle. "Gods, Lulu, you have no idea how kick-ass that was. I was sweating buckets! Buckets! Touch my back; I am drenched!"

With Gwen's kind words, Kusu saw that his sister's expression took on a note of undisguised happiness. As expected, his Lulu was no match for the wily capitalist.

"I'll go back to training," Lulan promised. "I'll get better. Learn more Sword spells from Ryxi! I'll work twice as hard!"

"Don't work too hard." Gwen wrapped her arm around Lulu's neck. "Jeebus, my Sanguine Armour's all sticky. And your dress is ruined."

"I don't mind—"

"I know you don't, but I mind, and Kusu minds..." Gwen shot him a wink as she materialised a towel. So intense was the battle and its aftermath that it was only now that Kusu realised his sister was showing an awful lot of skin. He did have spare clothes for Lulu, but to walk out now and bring out a set of women's tracksuits may engender some very awkward rumours.

A Dimension Door later, the pair was back in the lounge area.

"The change room is this way." Magus Yuu and the staff from the House of M was ready to wait on the two women, eager to satisfy any requests they might make.

"Good. Come along, Lulu. I got you a half-ring worth of goods from London. Elf-made dresses, Lulu. I saved you a set. You'll never guess who they used to belong to..."

"I'll help." Mina left the VIP box and joined the pair, leaving Kusu standing alone with Percy and Gwen's thuggish-looking escorts. "Are we picking the dresses now?"

With his blood pressure finally down to a safe level, Kusu found himself a seat. Opposite, Percy nursed a glass of wine, his expression a mask of deep thought. Ruì blended into the background through an NoM's innate ability to seem unassuming, while Gwen's guards stood on either side of the women's change rooms, drawing curious looks from the remaining audience.

"Your sister's special." Kusu surmised he had found a kindred spirit in Percy, who also shared complicated feelings for his overachieving sister. "Must be tiresome having a sister like Gwen."

"Yes," Percy mumbled tiredly, his evasive eyes telling Kusu everything he needed to know. "It's a hell of a thing."

"But you wouldn't trade her for anyone else, right?" Kusu laughed, the handsome vision of Lulan duelling Gwen playing over and over again in his mind, making his chest burst with pride. "I sure wouldn't."

"I wouldn't trade my sister for any of yours either." Tao looked around smugly when Percy appeared to mull over Kusu's proclamation. "Mina's the _best_ sister ever, she's taking over the family business, did you know? I am FREE, BITCHES! How's that for a great sister? Eh?"

"To great sisters." Kusu raised a glass of rice wine.

"To our bitch'n sisters!" Tao cracked a can he earlier swiped from Sun's table. "Come on, Percy, grab a beer!"

Sighing deeply, Percy raised an unopened can. "To Gwen."

"To Mina!"

"To Lulu!"

"To FREEDOM!"