The Queen stared out of the window, fathoming her vast city once more, “The man believes himself to be completely under my radar. I’ve had my eye on him—no, my father has had his eye on him in the weeks before his passing. I, myself have never worried about whatever a mongrel like him and his people could to do us. He could spend a million years plotting to no avail; a roach always dies when exposed to the light,” she said.

The One-City Kingdom does not rely solely on one individual’s power to uphold authority throughout millions of li and mete out punishment swiftly, and decisively to the innumerable transgressors throughout history—if it were so, the domain underneath their rule would crumble at the slightest give to weakness. Furthermore, not every ruler is so dedicated to the stewardship of their title, for that reason there’ve been guarantees in place to make sure that each ruler’s reign, would be as stable as their predecessors.

The Queen did a sidelong glance to Kunima’s hands, balled and trembling. Inside them would be the strength to split a mountain in half if that mountain dared to offend her by daring to exist between her path; or blocking the sun her skin may desire.

“I’ll go kill him now,” Kunima said.

“You’ll do nothing.”

“But,” she said. “Yu, my Queen—”

The Queen silenced her with a hand. "Let me think."

Kunima was the one with the most self-control amongst her trusted. The Queen let out a stealthy sigh. Had it been Herritus, and not Kunima she’s consulting with he’d already be gone from the reach of her voice, flying off to start—and finish—a genocide within the night. With one word from her, by dawn the maps would be redrawn.

“I’ve no idea of what makes him so displeased with me.”

Kunima’s lip raised in disgust, “Who cares about the approval of an ant? An ancestor of minor accomplishment from a backwater, no-name clan that’s so obsessed with cannibalizing their,” she says, as sarcastic as she could muster, “promising young candidates in favor of only one with the family name.”

“If I wanted them to be erased,” the Queen flicked her eye to Kunima, “do you not think I wouldn’t have done it already?”

Kunima shifted her eyes.

“Myself, the Five Houses and the Upper Clans and Sects that swear loyalty and cooperation to their kingdom are untouchable to them. It’s not a Grittus clan that has me worried. It’s the fact that he may be unsatisfied.” She raised a small grin, “Unsatisfied men seek out other avenues to get their happiness or fall to escapism to stave off that anxiety.”

“In our world, an unhappy Ancestor means an unhappy clan, an unhappy clan means a group of rogue cultivators that will put kinks into the system, or at worse case—breed justification for outsiders or rebellious elements to lay siege to right a perceived wrong.”

“There is just cause to eliminate him—and clan by extension to prevent such things. However, if we go around annihilating everyone who has some sort of issue with us, who will be left to support our kingdom? Fund our designs? Would there even be a kingdom if my ancestor, the first ruler decided that it’d be in her best judgement to wipe out everyone so no one would feud with her? Sounds boring.”

She sighed. “This’s a kingdom of cultivators, supported by cultivators and the mortals on our coattails. Extreme measures will open the door to wanton slaughter, hooking us back to a past we ran away from.”

“Do you understand me now, Kunima? And…” the Queen’s eyes looked over Kunima’s shoulder, “Herritus?”

Her aide nodded. The warlord who smelled of blood without suppression also did as such; he blatantly defied an implicit order out of concern for whatever may be making his two closest friends worry so, and for that, she will not punish him. The man’s attention waned, and he retreated inside a slanted shadow.

Sometimes, she figured she may not be the best match for her aides. Had it been her father, or her father’s father, or so on, they would’ve let their subjects exterminate dissenters without even notifying them—even risking a lecture for doing so. She’s been received by her followers as the “weirdest” ruler for quite some time. She listens to their talks, even if with interpretation it edges to treasonous sympathies. Many of them take her as a bipolar and, distant from the throne.

They weren’t exactly wrong. She didn’t have a silver tongue for politics, nor did she possess the will to be there step-by-step during her reign, she just couldn’t bring herself to care wholeheartedly. So, she long ago adopted a hands-off approach—Kunima and Herritus can handle the mundane and repetitiveness of her station, and if there so happens to be a time that requires her specific appearance, like the Rosewater Exchange or otherwise, she’ll find it in her heart to do what’s required. Other than that…

Her lifespan was triple most of her subjects’. Any issue that arose this year could be gone by a decade of sleep.

But it seems like this one can’t be so readily ignored. Lackadaisical she may be, but even Silverwhite Yu won’t allow her family’s, her kingdom’s name to be tarnished during her reign.

“He was rather enthusiastic about the upcoming Exchange,” the Queen said.

“Yes, from what I remember it sounded like he has a new trump card in the making.”

“It must be his little boy.”

“That would be his grandson.”

“Right, the other one’s gotten a little old.”

Kunima sneered. “Must’ve hatched a golden egg in the mud. Does he suppose that someone of his line could ever challenge the Rosewater Rankings?”

The Queen shrugged slightly, “Some need delusion to be able to live.”

“However, it would be interesting if there’s something more to this, wouldn’t you agree?”

“What’re you saying?” Kunima said.

“Nothing, really.” The Queen stepped back and turned for the door. “I have an idea, follow me.”

Kunima and Herritus shadowed behind their Queen, who took them on a journey nearly spanning the entire keep. Silverwhite Keep was massive enough to be a city unto itself. The few who are allowed a place inside think of the keep as the ‘true’ capitol city of the kingdom, and the outside was only for the tourists and unproven subjects to frolic. Even her own House weren’t allowed within these walls despite their very name being on it as the royal family. The Silverwhite’s operated on an inflexible meritocracy. If they were inside the keep, not on business but as a guest—they were a son or daughter of heaven. By the time any individual makes it inside the castle that person is already a widely famous figure, being here is just for formality; and extra padding for if they flaunt superiority over their peers.

By now, the early morning sun was heating up the city’s stone and scattering as the rays washed over the spires and skyscrapers. For the mortal world, the crowds would have already been up to the neck—the people would be racing to check in for work; shoveling dung and the like, but alas, this is a city of cultivators, for cultivators. Many are in closed-door meditation and won’t foreseeably be out till the afternoon. In a way, the cultivator’s afternoon is the mortal’s morning.

A few of the male servants blushed on sight, and the Queen was lost as to why, until a shoulder tap and a glance from Kunima answered. She ruefully smiled, then, with a casual wave of her hands a white and gold regalia replaced her nightgown. A not so little number of Sect Heads and Patriarchs would vomit blood if they knew First to Third Evolution Shade Beasts were merely cut up and used as material for clothing. And the taxes that bled them were a pittance added into the cost of the royalty’s silverware.

As they arrived at an antechamber, the royal guardsmen stationed there saluted their Queen—and their warlord. The metal on their spears shimmered, as if confused what universe it stood in. Severance Blades, made to disconnect and disrupt the body’s synchronization with its dantian; hamstringing at best, crippling the victims at worst. The Royal Guard were staffed with the best and equipped with the greatest Hannamith’s wealth had to offer. In a thought experiment at Rosewater University, it was surmised that the Royal Guard could indeed, at maximum efficiency be a strong threat to the monarch’s power. An insane idea that had both professors expelled from their positions, but an intriguing one—should the world’s rivers flow in reverse and the sun rise in the west, and the Royal Guard turned against the one sworn their soul’s loyalty to, they could be… problematic.

Silverwhite Yu remembered her father ordering the report to be destroyed. Ever since then, regardless of the trouble coming from the North, she always had an eye on those outside her circle.

“Is she inside?” the Queen questioned.

They nodded. “Young mistress has been very active as of late, I don’t think she’s even slept yet.” One of them said.

“Good, we’re going in.”

“As you wish,” without either of them making a move, the door evaporated and what greeted them was a twisting vortex, holding a mishmash of colors.

After the trio walked inside, it was as if they stepped a million li over to another continent. What lay ahead of them was a jungle of sorts. The life here was as abundant as it seemed, with insects crawling within every inch of their sight. Oddly enough, the flies that are characteristic with these biomes didn’t so much as graze them; they were invisible, undetectable and when a stray fly was in the midst of colliding with one of them—it rolled off a barrier as transparent as air. To our outsider’s perspective it looked like these flies all had the same idea of just randomly changing course soon as they reached near the group.

Privileges of the strong.

Later, they stopped at a clearing. Not natural whatsoever—it was a jungle, and there isn’t a mandate from a God to suddenly stop growing here. The trees that would need ten men to wrap around looked as if they were abducted from the area, leaving a stump with a clean cut through. Other thick pieces of branch and trunk were diced into perfect cubes, and each one looked like an exact duplicate of the previous. The Queen let her eyes wander. The earth was bearing fatal scars, some so deep the wildlife that fell in still cried for help.

Lastly, there was a persistent smell… of blood here. Did a war happen, and all victims and participants vanish without so much as a body around? Or were the parties that efficient in cleaning up their waste?

A bestial roar came from their side. The trio lazily looked to it—some blend between a lion and a scorpion made its presence known through its growls. Manticores are Shade Beasts not common in the lower realms, as the Juva concentration is too sparse to nurture one to adulthood. But here, things worked differently.

It howled hate at them. Its scorpion tail snapped so fast it blurred space around it, rendering an innocent boulder adjacent to dust. The group couldn’t be motivated to lift a finger, despite this. The manticore charged; maw open, fangs still moistened by blood from an earlier kill.

Herritus, at the end of his patience, looked to a direction and said: “Will you stop playing games, Ling?”

“Yes, milord.” A voice said.

A line of light and the beast paused. With its eyes still locked on the group—its two halves drifted from one another like a block of wood. The blood geyser contained enough nutrients to regrow the clearing a hundred times over, for the next century. Not a single drop will go to waste by the starved wildlife. Behind the beast’s remainders, a white figure.

It blurred, and the girl came to a stop next to the Queen. She forgoes kneeling. Thinks it beneath her no matter the superior’s station. In yesteryear, after Silverwhite Yu was crowned as Queen of the One-City Kingdom, she was obligated to submit with a kneel. She refused. The only soul within the city who dared to. She didn’t care that she would die for it, just that she didn’t want to. She respected her Queen; Just didn’t want to kneel, and that was all it was. A normal ruler would’ve had her head tossed to the dogs. But the boldness brought a size of respect for the girl, and for that, she was spared.

The only one who can.

The girl’s sword, though it just savored in manticore blood, it was spotless. Exquisite in its whiteness, the blade had an inscription that faded after a breath. The slender hilt was assuredly custom-made to user’s preference. She released her sword. But why? It was going to fall in the mud. Suddenly, it halted like an invisible hand had caught it already, and the sword returned to its master’s sheath without her doing anything.

“Greetings to you, honored cousin,” in place of a kneel, she bowed.

Acceptable enough, thought the Queen. She smiled and pulled her in for a hug. “It’s so good to see you.”

“Feeling’s mutual.”

When they separated, to anyone it was clear of their relatedness. The high cheekbones, silklike hair and all-encompassing beauty made her look like a teenage version of the Queen. She just so happened to take on a weird personality. “But let’s cut to the point here. My Queen, the Royal Steward and the High Warlord of the One-City Kingdom wouldn’t come down here to interrupt my training for some light conversation, I take it.” Silverwhite Ling said.

“Not today, no.”

“Is it about what happened at dinner last week? Mother apologized—”

“No, no, no.” The Queen shook her head. “Nothing of the sort. I have a task for you, actually.”

“I need you to participate in the Rosewater Exchange.”

Everybody was startled.

“I don’t follow,” Ling frowned. “My admission to Rosewater University goes without saying.”

“To the point as you asked, you’ll be a participant in the tournament. And the only thing you have to do is—be yourself.”

The two aides behind her paled.

Silverwhite Ling paused, then, carefully said: “Is this a request from my cousin, or my Queen?”

The Queen knew it might come to this: lips hanging downwards.

In a way, the very idea of lowering herself to fight the weak was an insult to her pride, her Silverwhite—her royal—her inborn pride, and the strength that gives her the unalienable right to it. “I’ve no desire to stomp insects. Why not ask the other juniors in the family, or get a pawn from the other houses to do your bidding?”

The Queen put a hand on her hip, “Because there’s something in it for you, of course. I wouldn’t task my cute cousin to go bully children without a reward, would I?” She snapped her fingers, and in the palm of her hand a vial was held. The liquid housed inside sparkled and was as clear as water yet as thick as sludge.

Ling’s eyes widened; her fingers held back by the decorum instilled in her. “You wouldn’t…”

“Serve the crown, and you’ll be rewarded. It’s as simple as that.”

Kunima took a step forward. “Milord, surely this is a flagrant violation of the integrity befitting your role as the University’s representative, if they find out—”

“If?” The Queen’s aura stirred. “Tell me Kunima, who will tell them?”

Their breaths caught in their chest. The once excited wind died at an instant. Silverwhite Yu’s side-eye carried many threats, and as her right-hand remembers, that look has been the end of so many cultivators. Kunima retrieved that step, and the world began spinning again.

“Forgive my misstep,” Kunima said.

Yu smiled, “Besides, if my father and I know that old shit well, he’s already got his cheat prepared in advance.” The Queen waved a hand over Ling, “I would call this more like…insurance. Also, to remind you not to slack off, I’ll even give you the first dosage.”

The Queen’s finger sent the vial floating, and before it even made it to the recipient’s palm, she snatched it out of the air and stared at it ravenously.

“Our family’s greatest treasure and secret; in my hands now,” Ling clutched it to her chest.

“How long will the effect last?”

“For a dosage of that size? About a hundred-twenty hours.”

“The amount of insights into my Sword Aspect I could claim…”

“I’d recommend you go straight to the 11th King. His Sword Aspect is your predecessor.”

“I will take your advice,” this time, she bowed deeply. “However, I can only feel sorry for whoever instigated your wrath, cousin.”

“To help ease your conscience, I will let you know that… there may be traitors amongst them.”

Ling’s eyes went cold. “Understood. In two years’ time I will participate in the Rosewater Exchange as per your instruction. My sword follows your will.”