Hao Yun was no one important.

He’d been born a farmer. Then he became a refugee. And now he was a soldier.

…Though how that differed from a guard he knew not, he only knew that that was what he was now.

Truthfully, the distinction mattered to him not a whit. His superiors could call him whatever they liked, just so long as they continued to fill his belly and coin purse. He in turn would kill whoever they wanted.

Animals. Spirit Beasts. Instinctive tribesmen. Even Imperials.

Though, he didn’t fully understand why the latter were now an enemy of his lord. Few did. Rumours abounded of course, but little in the way of hard facts ever filtered down to the likes of him.

That was simply the way of things. Cultivators would do as they willed, and people like him would merely try to survive the consequences and provide what support they could.

One might argue that four walls and a full belly were a small price to pay for a man to turn against his homeland. Hao Yun would argue that those people were fools who did not truly understand how valuable those things were.

So, he cheered. Until his throat was hoarse and his breath was spent, he cheered for Lady Huang as she entered the arena on that first day. And when she’d emerged victorious, he had cheered even more.

A feat he repeated when Lady An fought her duel – and triumphed.

For even if he did not understand the import of these fantastical duels – or why they required this magnificent arena – his lord’s actions to safeguard the people of the Northern Provinces had bought the young man’s loyalty.

Though I might have preferred a more comfortable seat from which to cheer, he thought as he sat upon his jade throne for the third time in as many days.

Which, absurd as it sounded, was just long enough for the novelty of the incredible seat to wear off. Jade was many things, but comfortable was not one of them. He’d sat on rickety old stools more comfortable than the obscene mass of stone and jewels he was sat on now.

Oh, he’d brag about it till his dying day, telling all who’d listen about the time he sat on a throne fit for the empress herself. But in the here and now, he couldn’t help but think he’d have much preferred a cushioned wooden chair or even a rope swing over his current seat.

“And cultivators choose to sit in these?” he muttered to himself as he shifted about uncomfortably.

Fortunately, it seemed his discomfort would not be dragged out any longer than needed, as once everyone was seated once more, his lord’s voice issued clearly from his own steel throne.

“Well, this is it.” He spoke clearly and calmly, his voice audible across the entire arena. “Three days. Two victories. Soon to be three.”

Across from them, Lady Shi of the Inquisition frowned slightly at the Magistrate’s words, her gaze no longer marred by the blindness that had afflicted her just yesterday.

Clearly the enemy had a healer in their roster.

“A wise man does not count his hens before they are hatched,” the woman responded. “Though while this Shi will congratulate you Lord Johansen in managing to surprise us in both previous bouts, no amount of trickery of misdirection will avail your champion here and now.”

She swept her arm out dramatically. “For what is past was merely a prelude. The true fight begins only now, for one of the Celestial Empire’s greatest heroes finally graces the stage.”

…Nothing happened.

The area to which the Inquisitor gestured remained quite free of any champions, or much of anything really. Indeed, Huo was just beginning to wonder if this champion was in fact invisible, when the Inquisitor spoke one more.

“Ancestor, please.” The woman sighed. “The time for games has passed.”

Then it happened, preceded by a bracket of laughter that swept through the entire arena, the most beautiful woman Huo had ever had the pleasure of seeing appeared in the skies above, descending slowly to the ground on a wave of pink petals.

“Sorry kiddo,” the woman’s melodic words were as enchanting her features. “You were all acting so serious that I just couldn’t help myself.”

Yet it was not lust that dominated Huo’s thoughts – though he had no doubt he was quite alone in this. Rather, it was an overwhelming sensation of filial respect that pervaded his very being, as he gazed down at the goddess from which his entire ancestral line had sprung.

Indeed, it was all he could do not to bow in the face of the Divinity’s majesty as she casually fluttered a fan in front of her face, the outward facing side of the implement emblazoned with the image of a mighty phoenix.

He knew in his heart of hearts, this would be the moment he would regale his children with in the years to come. Forget the throne. Forget Ladies An and Huang. Forget the-

Huo’s heart seized.

“So this is to be my opponent?” Lord Johansen’s voice was almost casual as he regarded the literal god he was to face off against. “I must say, the last one I defeated was bigger. Much bigger.”

Oh Empress, his lord was insane.

Fortunately for all of them, rather than be offended, Lady Yating merely smiled, eyes crinkling behind the fan she placed over her mouth. “Hmmm, how uncouth. It seems Lord Johansen that despite the many women you surround yourself with, you have forgotten an age old adage. It’s not the size that counts. It’s what you do with it.”

Lightning crackled overhead despite their being clear skies mere moments ago as the woman continued. “And I think you’ll find that what I lack in quantity, I more than make up for in quality. Something you’ll soon find out, if you would only give me a taste.”

The armoured giant laughed in turn. “Is that a threat or a promise?”

“I guess you’ll find out soon enough.” The fan snapped shut with a resounding clack, revealing the almost lupine smile held beneath.

Not that Huo really noticed. His mind was still trying to process a single horrifying concept.

Was… was his ancestor flirting with his lord?

Certainly, her words could have been taken for a threat, but there was no mistaking the almost coquettish slant to her tone or posture.

Indeed, the more he looked, the more he could only conclude that the goddess – his ancestor! – was actively flirting with Lord Johansen.

…The thought made him feel a little faint.

It was just wrong. Like stumbling in on your parents in the process of making a new sibling – only worse somehow!

And he didn’t know why any of it surprised him.

He knew what cultivator women were like. Everyone did. Every man had that fantasy at some point; the fantasy involving the arrival of a parched cultivator lady who desperately needed something only he could provide.

Even if deep down, every mortal man knew the impossibility of that particular fantasy.

Yet somehow, Huo had thought – hoped! – that a Divinity would be different. Above such mortal desires.

Fortunately for the young man’s slowly unravelling world view, that was the moment the Inquisitor chose to interrupt the growing byplay between the two incredibly powerful beings.

“Ahem,” Lady Shi coughed. “Once more, I offer you this chance to surrender, Jack Johansen. The feats of yourself and your underlings have certainly impressed this Inquisitor. Surrender now, and I will guarantee you a position of great prestige within the Empire. Your trespasses thus far have been great, but competence allows one to be forgiven much.”

The man’s metal helm glanced up toward the Imperial scion.

“Nah, I don’t think so.”

The Magistrate spread out his arms and between one eye-blink and the next, his armour changed. Gone was the round and simplistic metallic design for which he had become known, instead replaced by gleaming red scales and harsh angles.

Even in death, the discarded flesh of the Red Death exuded a subtle menace that had more than once member of the audience flinch back.

“I’ve already killed one Divinity since arriving in this land,” the man subtly stretched out, the shiny black clawtips on his fingers glistening in the light as he did. “What’s one more?”

No one dare spoke, but from her position high up on her own throne, Lady Huang did allow herself a small chuckle. A chuckle that froze in her throat as a wave of deadly intent washed over the entire arena like a wave breaking on the shore.

“Careful Jack.” Huo could barely hear his ancestor’s teasing tone through the waves of unrelenting intent they were putting out. He’d been trained to resist it by Lady An, but comparing the two was like comparing a candle to a forest fire. “Don’t go getting overconfident now. Nothing’s more unappealing to a lady than a man with too high an opinion of himself.”

Through blurry eyes, Huo realized that Johansen hadn’t even flinched. His posture was as casual as it had ever been, even as waves of killing intent roiled around him like the crashing of a thousand waves.

“I could say the same of a woman whose ego is bruised by even the smallest slight,” the man said. “Please cut that shit out. It’s embarrassing both of us.”

Yating’s glare only grew as a small snarl slipped across her divine features, before finally fading as the feeling of total dread that pervaded Huo’s entire mind dissipated.

“It was just a little reminder.” The Divinity sniffed. “Not to get too big a head, just because you killed some outland divinity. I think you’ll find that those of us born in the Empire are different beasts altogether when compared to that rabid creature.”

“So you say,” Jack muttered, clearly unconvinced, before he turned back to Lady Shi. “So I assume this bout is going to have the same rules as last time? First one to put the other in the ground wins?”

The Inquisitor visibly twitched, her tone suspicious. “You’d put your very life on the line?”

“Seems only fair.”

That seemed to confuse the Inquisitor, as if what Lord Johansen just said didn’t make sense, though whatever reason she had for said puzzlement, it seemed to pass quickly as she recovered. Her eyes flitted to Yating for just a moment, before turning back to the armoured man.

“We need not resort to that. Not with the true enemy on our doorstep. The Empire needs every able bodied son and daughter it can muster.”

Johansen cocked his head. “I see. You didn’t seem to feel that way when you were getting your people killed wrecking my town a few days ago.”

Huo felt his fists tighten at the reminder. He’d lost friends that night. Two of them.

Yet the Inquisitor was unrepentant. “We both made mistakes. I had hoped a swift slap would have you settle down. It seems though that I underestimated your hubris and resolve.”

She gestured to Yating, who was still grinning. “As you can see, Jack Johansen, the Empire won’t make that mistake again.”

For the first time since he’d started talking, the Magistrate didn’t sound amused as he regarded the Divinity. “No, I suppose not.”

“Oh?” The Laughing Goddess cocked her head. “So you’re taking me seriously now?”

“I always take you and people like you seriously. Even if I don’t show it.” As he spoke, black goo seemed to leak out of his armour to puddle on the ground, before rearing up like rattling snakes.

Shi coughed once more, interrupting the mounting tension between the two super-combatants. “I suppose that leads us to our proposed conditions for this bout.” She paused. “Seeing as neither side can afford to lose either of you at this juncture, this bout will be to surrender or unconsciousness.”

Johansen’s gaze did not shift from his staring match with the Divinity. “That’s a tall order. This isn’t exactly someone I can hold back against easily.”

Sparks flickered out from his claws. “To that end, I’d much rather just kill her and be done with it.”

Shi’s eyes widened, even as Yating said nothing, her gaze flinty.

For his part, Huo desperately hoped that the Magistrate didn’t actually end up killing his Ancestor.

Nor did he want his Ancestor to kill the Magistrate…

And why were they enemies again?

Finally, the Inquisitor rallied. “I offer you a chance to save your life and you reject it? Are you insane?”

Finally, Johansen turned to regard the Imperial Scion. “Honey, I stole one of your cities, shattered an army of over a million Instinctives, and still found time to splatter the Divinity sent to stop me halfway across the province. As far as I’m concerned, this is just the next step in that plan.”

Shi coughed. “Well, I must insist on the rules as they stand. You are both too valuable to risk needlessly.”

The armored man cocked his head, and Huo could almost imagine the slow smile slipping across his broad northern features.

“Alright, but let’s make it a little more interesting.”

This time Yating responded. “How so?”

The man’s hand moved towards the Rooster Goddess, a single finger jutting out. “If I win, I want you.”

The silence that followed that statement was profound. Even the Imperial Scion seemed lost for words.

Fortunately or unfortunately, Huo’s ancestor wasn’t.

“How so?”

“An oath of service. Ten years. A blink of an eye for the likes of us, but I’m sure I could think of a way to make it memorable.”

“Absolutely-” Shi started to say, only to be interrupted by the goddess.

“Deal.”

“What!?” The Inquistor whirled towards her champion, but the goddess only had eyes for the man across from her.

“Of course, that assumes the same holds true in reverse. Another divinity for a boy toy sounds like it might be interesting after all.”

Huo could well imagine the smirk on his Lord’s face as he responded. “Naturally.”

“Yating!?” The Inquisitor hissed.

“What?” The Rooster’s face remained everpresent as she turned. “Your mother likes to keep all the guys that might keep up with me to herself. It’s not like I get many chances to let loose. And if I’m about to fight another Divinity for her greedy ass, I’d like to get something out of it.”

Huo felt slightly green.

“F-fine,” the Inquisitor grunted resignedly. “You’ll fight to surrender or incapacitation. The loser will owe ten years of service to the winner. An accidental killing will be seen as a loss on the part of the killer and the term of service will be extended to eternity.”

“Fine by me,” Jack laughed.

Huo’s ancestor bounced from foot to foot, her spur-blades jingling as she did. “Ooh, I’m feeling all tingly just thinking about it.”

Above the pair, the growing clouds had darkened and blackened. From one moment to the next, the entire arena was bathed in gloom as the sun was blotted out.

Then rain started to fall.

Thick and heavy.

And that was when Huo realized something. Nor was he alone in that realization.

“There not actually going to fight here, are they?” Someone on his right asked, trepidation coloring their tone.

Huo, for his part, was already halfway out of his seat before a voice crackled through his – and everyone else’s earpiece.

“If any of you shame the army of Ten Huo and our liege by trying to flee now, I’ll cut you down before you make it to the stairs.”

Huo didn’t doubt it. The rumors of Gao the Dragon Killer had most assuredly made the rounds of Fortress Town Five. And Huo knew that while he might die if he stayed to witness the clash of these two titans, he’d definitely die if he tried to run.

“Combat shall begin in three. Participants make ready.”

So he’d sit on his incredibly uncomfortable – and now wet – chair, and pray.

“Three.”

Across from him, he could see the same unhappiness that he was feeling reflected on the face of a Sect Member.

“Two.”

It seemed the Inquisition had made a similar threat to General Gao.

“One.”

He said a quick prayer to his ancestors – before realizing the irony of doing so.

…Yet when the final syllable left the voice of the ethereal speakers, Huo didn’t die in a fiery conflageration of mystical techniques.

Both combatants flew directly up – each on a tale of flame.

Up and up they went, until they pierced through the stormclouds flying over head.

Then and only then did a battle of the ages commence – as mystical technique after mystical technique lit up the storm from within.

And down below, Huo and the other could only shudder to imagine the carnage occurring within.

---------------------

As Jack fired another firework off to the right, watching it explode into a shower of green sparks, he turned to where Yating was hovering in front of him.

“Do you think they’re buying it?”

The Rooster-God just shrugged as a fireball the size of a house materialized above him, before he casually tossed it into a nearby cloud, where it detonated with the force of a fuel station going up.

“Probably. Just make sure to make this little show explosive enough that no one’s dumb enough to come up and check.”

Jack responded by dropping a boulder out of his inventory. One that he calculated would land just a few dozen feet to the right of where the Imperial’s seating area was.

Then he dropped another.

Just a little closer.