#1-2

Name: Tatsumi and the Thousand Teigu

By: The Ruff Pusher

Synopsis: AU. Though he doesn't know it at first, Tatsumi is a descendant of the First Emperor. In a world much different from the original, how will he navigate the intrigues and intricacies of ruling the Empire as a young and impressionable youth, while dodging assassination attempts and young ladies at every corner? mature/will contain smut in future/will have elements of Diablo series

Original Link: https://www.fanfiction.net/s/12622179/1/Tatsumi-and-the-Thousand-Teigu

Ratings: M

Please support the author by visiting the link above. I'm just here to share this with you. If you're the original author of this story, then you can message me to remove it. I only upload chapters up to the recent ones. You can read more chapters on the original author link or search the title on the respective site.

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Summary: "1000 years ago, the Emperor struck a deal with Ancient Evils, turning forty-eight into a thousand, leading to centuries of prosperity. Now, the Emperor's last descendant must return to the Throne, lest darkness fall."

The boy's carcass was still steaming and sizzling, like a hot skillet meal, when they took it away.

"Fucking brat. Useless to the end." Honest bit into the end of a pork roast, his teeth crunching on the fat bitterly.

"What should we do, sir?" said one of his advisors. "Without the Emperor, the Judgments will fail in a matter of days! The Empire will-"

"I know better than you, moron. Stop telling me things I already know," Honest snapped, tearing off another chunk with no small ferocity. Without an Emperor, no one would sit on the Throne. Without the Throne, there was no Empire, and the vultures would take it apart, piece by piece.

He looked back at the Throne, so humble and quaint in design. Some had even said it looked far too simple and ordinary to be a powerful thing: silver and white and bronze clashing together in tacky form. But looks, in this case, were very deceiving. The Throne was not merely a symbol. It was the ironclad center of the whole Empire, and was the heart of its prosperity as a nation. Whoever sat on that Throne quite literally controlled the Empire.

It was far from an ordinary chair. The thing had a mind of its own, like the many Imperial Arms bestowed upon the Emperor. It would reject anyone who dared sit on it who did not bear the First Emperor's blood, turned them to ash upon contact, burning through armor and clothes.

Though even the descendants were not spared-those the Throne deemed "unworthy" were fried after a short while, cooked to a crisp like that poor unfortunate child they just carried off. There was no criteria for its killing of Emperors-bastards became Emperors over their more legitimate kin in that way.

At this point, Honest wouldn't have cared less for the Throne now that the kid was dead. The Empire could rot in pieces with his blessing-there were many contingencies for his taking positions in various states that would arise from its corpse, though of course his title would be smaller than "Chancellor of the Empire".

Still, not all was as hopeless as it appeared. There was at least one more trump card he could still play, one he'd held in reserve for many years. Though he had slaughtered many who bore the Emperor's blood, he spared this one thing, for an unlikely day such as this.

"Prepare the fastest airship you can find," he ordered. This would have to be handled with care and with utmost speed. News would have already spread of the young Emperor's unfortunate death, and with no apparent relations left the Empire's teetering position was made even more precarious. An Emperor must be anointed, even if it was possibly for the last time.

Now, who would he assign the work? They needed to be quite discreet, would be strong enough to take on whatever challenge with just a small token of men, and would be "trusted" to not betray Honest at the last second, for they would need to be entrusted with the truth of the person they would be escorting back to the Throne.

After a few second's thought, the Chancellor only saw one face appear in his mind's eye.

()()()()()

Airships were an unusual sight, even in the thousand years since the First Emperor's blessed reign. It was even more unusual in the farflung areas of the Empire, where traditional horse-drawn carriages and the occasional lumbering steam-powered trains were more common to see. Out here, on a remote snowbound village, such sights were was equivalent to fireside fairytales for each villager, who could only count on the word of the few merchants who deigned to pass by their humble hoves. And they may have just been hallucinating from the deep cold.

Seeing an airship appear was then just as amazing as seeing a dragon fly past. The thing's appearance even lent to the imagination: sleek in body, like a bird's, expelling fire and smoke from its nethers, with jagged, bat-like wings that never moved.

Even more surprising were the soldiers emerging from the thing's "mouth". The village's strongest defenders lined up to bar the sudden visitors, wary of an attack. The soldiers paused, also taking up formation all around the village, blocking the way in and out.

What was even more surprising for the villagers was the appearance of a strange apparition-a tall, statuesque woman who would not have looked out of place in this snowy environment. Her long, blue hair waved like snow reeds in the biting wind, and she stalked over the snow with a confidence known only to those who'd lived in this element for a long time.

"Greetings, I am an envoy from the capital," the woman said, caressing the villagers with her piercing gaze. Even the hardiest of their hunters froze at the sheer presence that exuded from her eyes-it was like staring right into the eyes of a danger beast. As a result, all of them held their tongue, as if their lips had been sealed shut by some frigid wind.

"I am here for a boy. A child, said to have lived here." She reached into the front pocket of her uniform, withdrawing a small sketch given to her by the Chancellor, which also had a hastily written description in the back. "Said to have the 'blood of the savage east', and... what the hell is this chicken script-bah." She threw the sketch towards the villagers, who watched it drift in the wind. "Basically, give me the kid who looks like that."

The village elder stooped to pick up the sketch. It was of a child, drawn by an unknown artist. "We do not have babies at the moment, honored one. But-" the elder turned to the other side, and scrunched up his eyes to read what was on there. "Hmmm...! Born to a woman who drifted here from outside. From the east...! Why, it can only be one of two people. Sayo's mother we took in when we found her at the hunting grounds, so it can only be either Ieyasu, or T-"

"Please, spare me your rambling, old man," said the woman. "If you know who and where he is, then do not tarry in producing him. My patience is as thin as the spring ice."

"Why yes, we do know him well. But it's..." the elder gestured, his eyes turning to the forest at the outskirts of the village. "He's... out."

()()())()()()()()()(

Down the boy ran, skidding through the snow as the beast lumbered through the forest, flattening trees with its massive paws. The frenzied bear had only eyes for its quarry, the being who had disturbed its slumber. Its mouth slavered at the thought of tearing the offending creature limb from limb.

"Hey, give me a break!" Tatsumi shouted, whipping over a branch mere seconds before the bear turned the whole tree to splintered bark. "It was just an accident you stupid thing!"

The rampaging bear did not hear, nor did it stop. The route Tatsumi had taken through the stonebark trees did not seem to faze the creature, whose tough hide withstood the sharpened splinters-each one sharp enough to pierce a man's chest.

"As expected of a beast, you're just a big pain aren't you?" He frowned. He couldn't lead it back to the village-too many people would get hurt, even if he knew himself and all the hunters there could combine to take it down. He relished the day when he could personally fight a danger beast to a standstill, even kill it, but his skills were still too raw and lacking. That was why he'd even gone out of the village even with a blizzard on the way.

The chance thought came to him that he might just die today. Wouldn't that be a hilarious way to die, just a bloody smear on some random bear's paws. "Fuck you!" he shouted. "I ain't gonna go down that easily, you f- oh crap!"

He'd made a mistake: jumping on a branch that was too brittle. His feet broke it, and he fell to the snow, his momentum lost, the beast coming ever closer.

Out came his dagger, held firmly in tense fingers. "I can do this," he thought to himself, watching two tons of killing muscle charge ever closer. Nothing in this world was invincible, and he would find this thing's weakness. Even if it killed him.

Laughing at the insanity of his actions, he dashed forward, straight into the jaws of death. But a moment later, the bear's side exploded, and a second later it was knocked to the side, as if a massive rock had barreled into it. He stared after the thing as it rolled far away, its blood trailing it through entire meters of snow. His head creaked back to the source and saw an unusual sight.

It was a beautiful woman, staring coldly at him, her arms crossed in front of her breasts.

"So you're him? Well come on then, 'Emperor'. You've got a job to do."

())))()()()()()(

The villagers watched Tatsumi being dragged away by the woman back to the airship. They could not even say their goodbyes, nor even protest at the unsightly treatment of one of their own: the woman had told them that her soldiers would remain here for the time being, until they would be recalled. Should anyone try anything stupid, the whole village would be torched until nothing remained, not even a memory.

"And mark this," the woman had said, before departing, "Each of these are veterans of a hundred battles. Challenge them if you please, though please give them the courtesy of a good fight." Such threats uttered behind a mask of pure sincerity, so they had no choice but wring their empty hands.

Still, it rankled, seeing the woman just manhandle a protesting Tatsumi, his clothes still dripping with bear blood and offal, into the strange flying contraption. Though an orphan, he was one of them. A moment later, the thing rose in the air, and turned before screeching away on the bitter wind.

"Who the hell are you?" Tatsumi repeated. He looked around him. The inside of the "airship" was a cramp mess, the short height and width of everything needing him to curl up into a ball just to sit. "And what the hell do you mean, 'emperor'? What's that gotta do with me?" The woman rolled her eyes, and looked away pointedly from him. He slammed his hand on the floor. "Hey! Answer me! You can't treat me like this!"

"Who is this innocent babe who pretends to be a man?" the woman said. She glared at him coldly, though there was a smile on her face. Her eyes flashed, and Tatsumi felt his throat lock up, as if he were choking. "Do not test me. This ride is discomforting enough; bark at me any more than necessary and I will freeze all the blood in you."

"Kkh!" Tatsumi squinted, struggling against the sudden paralysis gripping his body. Hell, it was like staring into the bear all over again. At the thought of his near death experience, Tatsumi sighed and relented. "I'm... I'm sorry. I'm just not used to being dragged around like this. And, I mean... you did kill that bear for me. So I'm grateful for that."

The woman waved dismissively. "That thing was not even worth my time."

"You're pretty strong, then."

"I always am," she said with a small grin, raising her hand and clenching it tight. "And you will need more than that to survive the capital. You shall not have someone like me to get rid of bears."

"The capital?" Tatsumi gaped. "Y-you're taking me there?"

"You're not the sharpest sword in the forge, are you kid?" She gestured. "The Chancellor has-"

"Tatsumi!" he shouted suddenly. The woman froze, as if she'd turned into a statue. "Tat-su-mi. That's my name. I'm not 'kid'."

For a moment he thought she would turn her glare to him once more, as she stared at him with her displeased eyes. Then, the moment passed, and she laughed.

"What's so funny?"

"An amusing child. You stare death in the face and dare to laugh. Hahaha! I'll remember you wherever your path leads, 'Tatsumi'."

"What's that supposed to mean, lady?"

"It's Esdeth," she said in turn. "You may call me Esdeth. I am no puffed up court 'lady'. I am a General of the Empire. I do not generally escort people like this."

"Oh. Huh. Well, you're escorting me? To the Emperor?"

"No," Esdeth said. "I do not like to repeat myself, so listen well. You are the Emperor."

()()()()(()(()(())((

"Ah, welcome, welcome!" Honest's jovial greetings nearly bowled over the smaller Tatsumi as he took his hands in his and shook it up and down, like he were violently swinging a sword. "It is good to see you... 'my lord'. Ohohoho, you have done a good job. A very good job, Esdeth."

She inclined her head. "I always do."

"Indeed, indeed. Now, we shall need you and your Beasts on hand at the capital for now. Expect my word should anything happen." Unspoken was the agreed-upon stipulation, a backup in case this backup failed. The Imperial Capital without the Emperor was just a city, however splendid, but it would be better to hold it more than any other territory in case the worst happened.

"I don't understand... um, sir. What am I doing here? And why's Esdeth been calling me emperor?" asked a guileless Tatsumi.

"All in good time," said Honest, leading the young man away. He shot one last look down the steps at Esdeth, before he plastered his face with sycophantic expressions. "You see Tatsumi, you are a special child, didn't you know that? In your blood runs the last traces of the First Emperor's own. Though you were born out of wedlock, and are, harrumph, forgive me for saying, a 'bastard'... it makes it no less a fact that you carry the Imperial blood. And that is more important than whoever gave birth to you, at least with regards to the Throne."

It was quite unfortunate that the Throne knew of the truly illegitimate, whom previous men of ambition had tried to install on it, only for them to be incinerated for their trouble. Since then, people like Honest learned to be more precise with the intrigues circling around the Imperial seat. Honest had done his homework, tracking down all of the rapacious Emperor Zuum II's "conquests" and making sure he knew every single one. Tatsumi's mother was herself a daughter of a scullery maid whom the Emperor had impregnated, the man allured by her foreign green eyes.

"Whoa..." Tatsumi breathed. "You mean I'm some sort of long-lost prince?"

Honest could almost chuckle at the wonder that stole over the boy's face. At a glance, he could already see the boy's measure. Simplistic and naive, though with a hidden edge that he should try to temper. The very fact that this country hick had endured an airship ride with Esdeth without a scratch already spoke volumes. The General was not known to suffer fools.

"Not just a prince, now. You must know that your relative, the previous Emperor, has died."

"Oh." A troubled expression came over Tatsumi's face.

Honest nodded, mirroring the sad sentiment. "Yes. A sad affair. One we have not yet announced, until we'd found a suitable successor. He was yet a child, you know. Cute and precocious... as young as he was, he could not yet father children, to continue the line. Do you know about that, m'boy? Sex?"

Tatsumi blushed. "Of course. I-"

"Then that is good! You're much older than he was, so you can manage it. Though we're getting ahead of ourselves, so don't go thinking of the harem you want to build just yet!" Honest chortled, making the boy flush even further.

He took the young man to the throne room. No sense in delaying even an hour in testing Tatsumi. The latter stared with awe at the seat of power, so intimidating even in its small and humble state. "Do you know of the legend of the Empire's founding, my lad?"

"Only bits and pieces," said Tatsumi, waving vaguely, his gaze still mesmerized by the Throne. He recited the tale, passed down for a millennium, a story widespread among the people of the Empire. "Someone came to the Emperor, once all the fighting was gone. He was gifted a thousand wondrous objects, which would later be called the 'Imperial Arms'."

"Ah, yes. A little condensed, but it is all true." Honest did not feel the need to mention the Wanderer's Bargain: the price for gifting the Emperor these things, nor of the hidden cost of each Arms-the Demon's Due. "Through these objects the Emperor had been able to uplift the Empire to a golden age, of sorts. Airships, railroads, and magical carriages of steam and steel. But what most of them doesn't know, is that all of it flows from this sole object. The throne. It is magical in itself. Through it one literally governs the entire area of the Empire. It is a secret known only to the Emperors, and their closest servants. I myself was taught this by our late Emperor's father-bless his soul."

"So what does it all mean?"

Honest pointed to the throne. "If you are truly the Emperor, then the throne will accept you. From then on you shall be crowned the next Emperor... Emperor Tatsumi, or whatever name you choose." Tatsumi gulped, another blush forming at the thought. "However, the throne will also reject whoever is not worthy. Bad things can happen." Tatsumi paled. "It has happened," Honest repeated, with a grim look on his pudgy features. Then he grinned, and clapped Tatsumi on the shoulder. "This is your chance. You can refuse, if you want. After all, not everyone wants to rule. It's tedious, no? But if you also wish to be Emperor, then you've a right to know the risks. Not every man can be Emperor, after all."

Tatsumi swallowed, and once more turned his gaze to the featureless throne. It looked so small and simple that he could not imagine it rising up to destroy him. He looked from it, to Honest, who merely glanced back at him with curiosity. A lifetime seemed to stretch from one moment to the next as Tatsumi contemplated his choice. On one hand, he had no idea how to rule: he was a simple guy from a faraway village, who'd learned to hunt and survive in the harsh wastes. He balked at the thought of shouldering the weight of an entire Empire on his shoulders. On the other hand, he had always dreamed of doing right by the people who'd raised him from birth. He and his friends had even spoken of a near future when they would gather their strengths and find work at the Capital from where they could earn and send money to their village. But with him as Emperor...

A fresh, giddy warmth stole through him, even as his grin widened. Yeah, why shouldn't I be Emperor? Tatsumi thought. It honestly sounded like a cool idea! He took a step forward, and nodded to Honest. The man bowed.

"If it is by your will... my lord." Honest did not bother trying to hide his wide smile as his gaze followed Tatsumi's ascent up the royal stairs to the throne at the top. Still, he subconsciously crossed his fingers behind his back, aware that the thing might just cock things up at the last minute.

I hope you're not a failure, child, thought the Chancellor. He braced, like he were trying to endure a sudden squall, as Tatsumi paused at the top, turned around, then sat down on the Imperial Seat.

()()()()()(()()(())(

There was more than token apprehension in him. After all, he had not been given enough time to think about it. He was acting more on impulse now, his heart beating hard and loud in his chest, as if he were still being chased by that monstrous bear. Thus, his entire body trembled as his buttocks settled against the throne. He closed his eyes, as if he were expecting an invisible blade to fall upon his head. Fear gripped his body, as cold and relentless as the blizzards of his home.

"Huh."

Moments had passed in silence. Tatsumi looked around, expecting but not seeing the danger of which Honest had warned. His hands gripped the armrests, and he shifted nervously in his seat. He glanced at Honest, who was staring intently at him.

"...Nothing's happening, wha-oh craaaa-"

Pain, like a thousand tiny sharp needles, lanced into his body. He jerked up from the chair, his back arching and his muscles convulsing. He screamed; his consciousness engulfed in white-

Contribution analyzed, said a booming voice in his head. Soul binding process initiated.

"Who is that?" Tatsumi shouted, speaking without a voice.

Initial scan of contribution complete. N-Nephalem match ratio is-is-is-is ninety-one percent. Proceeding activ-activ-activ-activation of pr-activation of protocols-cols-cols-protocols.

"I don't understand!" Tatsumi said. He paused. "Are you the thr-gaaah!"

There was little way to describe the insurmountable pain that shot through his whole spine, like tiny daggers running up and down the center of his back. The back of his head hurt from how he'd bashed it against the throne's back.

"Sir!" Tatsumi yelled into the limitless whiteness in front of him, calling for the Chancellor. "Sir Honest! Help!"

And just as he was about to throw up from the pain, the voice returned and said, Sync... kssht... process at fif-fifty persssssenttt... INITIATE USER DISPLAY.

()()()()()()()()()()()()

The child wasn't burning; that was a good sign. In fact, he recalled the last Emperor, who'd also thrashed within the binds of the Throne when he'd first sat on it. So Honest stood back and watched the process-at this stage he was gratified that the boy truly had the last bit of the First Emperor's blood in him, and that was a good start.

He blinked, and stared intently at the boy's body when it sagged, lifeless, against the throne. He peered for signs of smoke or fire.

"Sir Honest?" asked the boy this time, stirring from rest. He looked around; his eyes were shining! Well, that was another barricade scaled. The old Emperor had displayed those glowing eyeballs too when he'd sat on the Throne; that meant the Throne had accepted the boy-for now.

"I'm seeing a heck of a lot of things... Whoaaa... I think these're... numbers? I can't be sure. And there're letters here too. I can barely read... Yep, there's a whole bunch of numbers and letters here. Sir, are you there?"

"Your loyal servant is ever vigilant, my lord," Honest said with quavering voice. "How is your condition?"

"It hurt. Real bad," said Tatsumi. "And there were these strange voices at the start. Anyway, I'm looking at something really strange. What the heck is all this? Do you know about it?"

Honest hesitated, and then said, "Why, that is the magic of the Throne, my lord. I have not seen it myself, but my previous masters had said that those strange images are exactly what they saw." He sighed."From the Throne, the Emperor sees all that is within the Empire's domain. Those 'numbers' mean certain things: conditions all around our glorious Empire. You see a map there, right?"

"...Yeah. It's right below me. Holy crap! It's like I'm flying!"

"Yes, yes, that is how it is done. Look below you, do you see the capital?"

"Yes."

"Are there numbers, words on it?"

"Ummm..." The boy bowed his head, his glowing eyes squinting. "Yeah... I think. There's something called... prosperity? Yeah. Prosperity's at two thousand."

"Hah! That is at least two greater than the previous Emperor, my lord."

"Really? But what does it mean-"

"How about the others?"

"Umm... Well there's population: something about a million. And, er... Teigu count. Forty-six. What's that mean?"

"It means there are forty-six Imperial Arms within the capital's walls, my lord. It may sound difficult to believe, but the Throne is aware of, and lets the Emperor alone see, the numbers that are important to ruling."

"Whoa!" Tatsumi looked up, straight at the ceiling. "Then that means, the Empire's really poor? We've only got two hundred gold in the treasury?"

Honest grimaced, as if he had been personally attacked. Such a keen child... "It saddens me to admit it, but it is the reality of the current Empire, my lord. Constant rebellions from misguided fools have killed our people, disrupted our trade, and reduced our subject's morale to a pittance. A sad epitaph for the Empire the First built."

"Wait, 'Rebellions'. Holy...yikes. That's a whole bunch of them, in red over there." Tatsumi pointed and gestured with his hands, as if he were grasping at something only he could see.

"It is impressive how you've managed to master the Throne's abilities, my lord. As I'd said, the Throne is the lynchpin upon which the Empire relies. As Emperor, you will be given many such information from the Throne. Now, my lord, would you care to stand up from the Throne for now?"

"Huh? Sure, but why?" Tatsumi stood, and immediately, the glow that spewed from his eyes disappeared. He blinked, staring around the royal chambers like a blind man whose eyesight had been returned. Before his eyes, the maps that had been there, along with all the shapes and words and numbers had disappeared, like he'd been merely daydreaming.

"I... wow." He looked down and did a double take.

A whole bunch of people were now there below along the foot of the stairs, with Honest at their head. They were all prostrating on the ground before him, their foreheads practically touching the floor.

"My lord, congratulations. The Throne has meted its judgment. You are the rightful heir-last of the First Emperor's blood. May you guide us all to victory and peace... Emperor Tatsumi!"

"Hail, Emperor Tatsumi!" the others cheered.

Tatsumi scratched his cheek. "Ahh... that sounds kinda lame. Just call me Emperor for now, please. I gotta figure out a cooler one..."

"Very well then. As my lord wills," Honest said, hiding his sneer. "Hail our new and glorious Emperor!"

"Hail!"

()())()()()())()()()()()

The news came; though by then they had already long known.

"Is that right, ma'am?" asked the woman, with long, black hair. She stared sullenly up at the gold carving of the eye, which had until now been closed. Now, not long after news had arrived of the Emperor's death, the sigil of the Watcher had suddenly glowed above the chambers of their current hideout. "I thought he had died?"

"What does it all mean?" they asked among themselves, and their leader.

Najenda, who had seen it before, said, "It means that there is now a new Emperor," she said grimly. "And one who can control the Teigu, unlike that child. We've got no choice but to relocate. He can see us now."

"Understood!" they all said, then went along to their duties.

The scarred veteran looked back up to the eye. Would that they could blind it permanently, so that the people might live. The news of the child Emperor's death had filled them with hope: now, with the Eye's awakening, they knew it would be a long and bloody trail towards the new Emperor's neck.

"But do not fear, 'my lord," Najenda muttered, imagining a cringing, weak man behind the form of the evil, corpulent Honest, "Night Reid will give you peace, soon enough." One way or another, the Empire must fall, to break the Wanderer's Bargain once and for all.

...

The coronation ceremonies were loud and grand. A great motorcade moved proudly through the streets of the capital city, thronged all round by his many future subjects. Aerial ironclads, like floating fortresses, blessed the celebrations with their ominous shadows, while smaller, speedier airships made dazzling formations and flying tricks alongside. Several divisions of the Imperial Army showed off the impressive arsenal of war-machines, while lines upon lines of smartly dressed soldiers marched in unison to the beats of the drums and the roar of the crowd.

Of course, he wasn't there to witness it all. Tatsumi was still inside the palace, protected by all sorts of defense countermeasures and contingencies. In the meantime his body double was the one out there waving his hand from the back of a motorcar and showering in the adulation of the crowd, and then later attend the many tedious ceremonies that were to come.

Chancellor Honest had made it clear that the minute he'd accepted the Throne he would have to meet personally with various nobles and other elites in the Empire. It was a show of solidarity, as well as confirming for these esteemed personages that the Emperor was truly alive and healthy. So while his body double engaged the minor nobility and middle-named merchants at the various celebration parties, Tatsumi met with the more powerful names in the Empire, who each held significant chunks of important assets, like farmland or industry, or held top positions among the Imperial ministries.

The Chancellor did a good job guiding him through the various introductions. He definitely felt uncomfortable meeting with these people, like he was just an imposter wearing a skin that was unfit for him. Still, he did his best, and it helped that they were all deferential to him. What didn't help was that all the names and titles eventually became a blur of ink to him; many times he had to ask the Chancellor who so-and-so was, or what the Minister of Logistics' name had been. He was honestly grateful to Honest for putting up with a country bumpkin like him. Were it not for the Throne, Tatsumi definitely wouldn't have felt royal at all.

Three days passed in this manner. The education was brutal, but Tatsumi was convinced that this was but the small step on becoming the most awesome ruler he could become.

On that day, his body double was assassinated. He had been on another motorcade, as usual, a much less bombastic ceremony towards Imperial Army Headquarters, where he would have publicly addressed the generals and troops assembled. En route, his car had blown up, taking out a hundred people and annihilating a whole city block with him.

It was the first time Tatsumi was upset; after all, the man had died because he had been doing his job. The city was put on lockdown as the assembled Generals personally used their skills to track down the perpetrators. Tatsumi was needed to appear in public himself to dispel the news of his death, and assure the people that he was still alive and well by demonstrating his use of the Throne.

Honest took him aside, away from the hubbub and ruckus, and said, "Before you do that, now is the perfect time to look inwards, my lord. That one was a lucky strike, and though we shall have a dozen other body doubles still, we must always be vigilant. It was my mistake to not equip you first. Do you recall that forty-six Teigu were said to be within the capital? Good, good. Twenty of those are kept within a secure vault at all times. We call it the Vault of the Emperors. It is there that you shall choose what kind of Imperial Arm you want to wear."

Honest took him to the deepest parts of the palace, far deeper than the various secret passages and boltholes (which he'd memorized on day one). Then they came to a large door, with the same color scheme as the Throne above, with various designs etched on its surface. Honest pointed to a vestibule on the door's right side. "There is where a mysterious mechanism, similar to the Throne above, will recognize your right as Emperor. It is also where the Teigu have to be placed upon the Emperor's death. Touch your hand over there, and wait."

Placing his palm inside the opening, he felt a pinprick sensation on his palm, after which a booming voice resounded throughout the antechamber. He and Honest looked up as the voice said, N-Nepha-bzzt-Emperor lifesign re-recognized... We-Welcome to the Vault of the W-Wan-Wanderer, Nep-Nepha-Nephal-bzzt-Emperor.

The doors opened with a rumbling like deep thunder. Light seemed to shine from within, nearly blinding Tatsumi. He beheld a shining room within, filled with all sorts of pedestals. Symbols shone on the wall, bright gold in color, while a grand yellow orb illuminated it all from the ceiling above. Tatsumi took a step forward, then two, then looked behind him to see that the Chancellor had not followed him in.

"The Vault only recognizes one of the Blood," Honest explained. "I can no more enter here and take from the Vault than I can sit on the Throne. You must be the one to go in and choose, your Highness. I shall wait here."

"Which one do I pick?" Tatsumi said.

"Whichever one my lord desires," said Honest.

Tatsumi frowned. "How will I know which is best? A human can only ever use one Teigu right?"

Honest nodded. "It is up to you, my lord." He made a show of hesitation. "But... well, I can tell you that for the last four generations, including your predecessor, the Emperors had chosen the [White Soulstone], a ring that granted them mysterious powers."

"The [White Soulstone], huh? I'll think about it."

"And then there is..."

"Hm?" Tatsumi tilted his head, seeing Honest had a difficult look on his face. "What's wrong?"

"It's nothing," Honest said, shaking his jowled head. "Carry on, my lord."

"No really. Please tell me, Chancellor sir. I'm deeply indebted to you; if it is in my power..."

"Well, I have always wanted a Teigu of my own," said Honest, launching into a speech long rehearsed. "But near all of them involve combat in some manner, which is impossible for a man of my stature," he joked, gesturing to his rotundity. Tatsumi grinned. "My whole life has been devoted to statecraft and service that I had no time to train myself in the martial arts. But I have heard that there is at least one of them inside: just a mere trinket, one which the Emperors have hidden here for a long time without use. It is called the [Flavor of Time]. I just wondered... well, if it could be possible, unless you chose that thing yourself..."

"Got it," said Tatsumi, already heading further inside.

"My lord?"

"I'll bring that for you. [Flavor of Time], right? I'll give it to you."

"B-but Master," Honest spluttered. "It's... it's..."

"It's fine, you don't have to be shy, Chancellor," Tatsumi said with a carefree wave. "I'm deeply grateful to you, and I'll see to it you're protected as well. I wouldn't know what to do, or who to trust, if somebody ended up assassinating you."

"I-I-I have no words, my lord," said Honest, sounding like he was all choked up.

"Just continue to help me from now on," said Tatsumi, as the door to the Vault closed once more.

()()()()()()()()()(

Behind the closed doors, Honest allowed himself to grin. Oh, what a wonderful way to culminate long years of tireless work! It had been impossible with the brat's father, who held the so-called Imperial Duties to high regard. And of course, his son had to get himself killed by the Throne, before he could wheedle the Teigu from the Vault.

But this new Emperor was finally able and fully willing to give him what he deserved. He had pored through the late Emperor's scrolls, deciphering the information of the Twenty Teigu that had been hidden away within this Vault, forbidden from every being used unless by one of the blood. Few even knew of the Vault's existence, its treasury merely part of the many mysterious Teigu that were never named or identified through the centuries.

Of all the treasures in that vault, the [Flavor of Time: Ourobouros], was the one he'd sought for so long. It was a pendant said to have the utterly delicious effect of granting a form of invulnerability, through what means he didn't know. But such a thing was perfect for an important man such as himself. No longer would he have to fear the assassin's blade, or at least that was the expectation.

Honest forced his giddy self to calm down and sober up. The thing might just have a weakness, or it would be an insignificant artifact, or it wouldn't even be inside. After all, there should be a reason why no Emperor since the First had ever used the pendant in the long history of the Empire. He was never one to fantasize on the what-might-bes.

()()()()))()()()()()(

The inside of the chambers was slightly cool, like his village on a sunny day. He looked around at the pedestals, scanning the different objects floating on top of them.

He approached the nearest one, which displayed an object looking like some sort of large war mace, and examined the inscription on the pedestal. He squinted: it wasn't in a language he understood. He held out his fingers to brush over the carvings, and immediately jumped back with a surprised bleat when the voice returned.

"Life-form pattern recognized. Greetings, nephalem. This one will aid you with the contents of this Vault."

"Nephalem? Who's that?" Tatsumi said, repeating the word that the mysterious loud voice had kept repeating since he'd sat on the throne. The voice did not answer his question, so he shrugged and looked back at the thing. "What's this then..."

He jumped when the voice returned, and spoke as if it were answering his question. "That is the [Warmace of Kahn]. Wielding it grants the user unparalleled strength, as well as a grasp on 'Sorcery'. It was wielded by an emperor from another world. It has sunk in the blood of many Fatalities, including his own."

"Sounds cool," Tatsumi remarked, though he was sure he wouldn't pick it up. He wasn't really a mace kind of guy. "Are there any sword-like Teigu in here?"

"Negative. The only other weapons are a bow and arrow, a spear, a flail, and a large shield."

"That sucks," Tatsumi said, frowning. He'd have liked it if there had been a katana-style Teigu inside. He turned away from the [Warmace of Kahn] and walked through the room, his eyes traveling over the other exhibits. He spotted a small ring, which he approached.

"The [Bl-krsht!-The [White Soulstone]. It protects the wearer from all abilities that affect the mind. Said to be filled with the radiance of angels, the ring grants the user endless Sanctuary."

"Yikes. It doesn't feel that useful. And the other emperors chose this?" Tatsumi was beginning to think this Vault wouldn't have anything to offer him. He looked at the small fragment that rested on top of the ring. "Hey, the stone's not even white!" It was black, with angry red lines running through it. "I wonder if this was the Wanderer's idea of a joke or something.

"Hey, weird voice guy. Can you point me to the Flavor or whatever?" Immediately, a different, auburn light illuminated a pedestal some distance away. It was a pendant, exactly as the Chancellor had said, with the carving of a snake eating its own tail.

"The [Flavor of Time]. It will work to prevent the fatal blow. Those who Brave life must also learn to not Fault death."

"I'll take it, if you please," said Tatsumi, snatching the pendant from the pedestal. He looked around, wondering if something would happen, but nothing did. He smiled, and pocketed the pendant. "Now as for my own Teigu... Jeez, I have to look through everything in here?"

"The [God Hands]. Allows the user to destroy anything with one punch. Its full potential may only be unlocked by a strict Herculean training regimen lost to the annals of time."

"But what if the enemy can see my punches coming? I'll pass."

"The [Emblem of Fire]. Allows the user to destroy enemies beyond the capabilities of ordinary mortals. It was said to be forged by draconic gods from other realms to defeat their adversaries."

"That sounds vague as heck. But I'll take a raincheck." If he ever found something like that bear again, anyway.

"The [Breath of Heaven]. Gives life, even from the brink of death, but never to the user. Love is never an act for the self, but the selfish feeling of selflessly giving of oneself to another."

Tatsumi looked at the mask-shaped object thoughtfully for a long time before shaking his head and moving on. It was useful, but it didn't sound like it would protect him, and that was the point the Chancellor even brought him here. He went through the whole room, examining all nineteen of the Teigu in there, and found nothing which resonated with him.

Still, it wouldn't do to leave empty handed. He went back and chose to take the one Teigu that would protect him from surprise attacks. He'd just leave the rest of the fight to his own abilities, which he'd promised himself to train vigorously from then on.

"The [Cloak of the Almighty]. Wreathes the user in protective shadows, which will bring him to safety when needed. It was worn by the victor of the Thousand-Year Blood War, who was said to have won through his legendary powers of prophecy."

Tatsumi threw on the black, nearly transparent cloak, which blended in with the rich-looking royal regalia he was forced to wear in public. He waited for signs of the Teigu reacting, and was pleased that nothing seemed to come. He then went to leave the Vault, like a customer satisfied with his purchase.

"You... you have it?" Tears came to Honest's eyes when Tatsumi presented him with the amulet. The portly man practically prostrated himself at Tatsumi's feet, even going so far as attempt to kiss his robes. "Oh, my lord! My just and wonderful lord! I shall follow you to the end of my days! I gladly receive your gift!"

"Uh... yeah. I'm glad you like it, Chancellor. As I said, I'm really grateful to you. I hope you continue to take care of me in the future."

Shaking his head in amusement, Tatsumi lead the way back up to the surface. He therefore missed the genuine grin of accomplishment on Honest's face as he stared at the intertwined serpents, even going so far as to nibble on the pendant, as if to confirm its reality.

"Mmmm... Flavor..."

()()()()()()()()(()()()

It turned out that the perpetrators had been some minor terrorist group, who had used their connections to a brigade in one of the divisions to procure some high-grade explosives. They all, even the division whom the guilty belonged to, were rounded up and sent to the Imperial Dungeons for sentencing.

"They are to be hanged?" Tatsumi asked incredulously, staring at Honest like he'd grown a second head.

"Of course, my lord," the man replied, as if it were a matter of course. "That has been Imperial law since the time of the First. Traitors and murderers are to be executed in such a way, unless, of course the ruling Emperor has some other means in mind?"

"No, but I thought..." Tatsumi whirled, looking out the window down at the city sprawled out below. "I thought they'd spend time in prison, or something."

Honest made one of his long-suffering sighs. "My lord, while the sentiment is... praiseworthy, and heartwarming, there is no way out of Imperial justice, unless you pardon them outright. And if you do, then most of the people would be angry at you, for many of their kind had been murdered by this rebel scum, and seeing you pardon them would send the wrong message, that their Emperor is too soft, and lenient."

Tatsumi frowned. "I'm not."

"Then there's no problem," Honest said, spreading his arms wide. "If you wish, you could rescind the bylaw that also demands the death of whoever was involved with the murders. There may be traitors there too, but perhaps there are innocent ones as well."

"They're going to be killed, too?" Tatsumi cried. "Yes! Yes, rescind it. Don't kill them. Send them to prison, or exile, or something!"

"As you wish," said Honest, finding the boy's innocence refreshing and cute. For now, he was in a honeymoon phase of acceding to the boy's every whim, particularly after gifting him the Teigu so freely. But later on, he would have to show a firm hand, and demonstrate to the boy the realities of ruling the whole Empire.

Though Honest wondered why the boy thought prison was better than death. There were far more horrible things to contemplate in there that would make the average person wish for death.

()()()()()()(((

Within a complex of caves far away from the eyes of the Emperor, a small group had just finished installing the final touches to their newest hideout. Several figures carted in a small, golden box fastened to a pedestal.

"Gaah!" said one man, who collapsed to the ground after the pedestal had been placed. "Remind me never to pull off Cube-carrying duty, Bulat."

"Come on, it's not that bad, Lubbock. Just needs a little work from the gut." said the other man, who was currently clad in some strange armor.

"That's because you're using the Teigu!" Lubbock cried. "And with the Cube out of commission, I can't use it with you. Gosh I can't believe I miss Incursio."

"Yeah, 'cause we all know the armor and strength was the coolest bit," said a girl sarcastically, who arrived next to them and dropped her bundle on the ground. She wore twin-tails, and stuck her tongue out at Lubbock. "And not the invisible part, where one can 'theoretically' sneak into the women's side of a public bath unnoticed."

"Use it, don't abuse it," succinctly said a glasses-wearing woman behind her, also dragging some objects with her by the rope.

"You know she's just gonna lop off your balls if you try it again, Lubbock," said the first girl.

"Come one, Mine, Sheele, I apologized already! And besides, it ain't like I'm abusing it to gain advantage. I just wanted... a peek."

"Try again. Kill," said a cold voice from behind. They turned to look at the slender, black-haired girl, who was sitting on the ground. She glared daggers at Lubbock, who swallowed at the threat of certain murder present in her crimson pupils.

"I-I-I promise..."

"By the way, Akame, why ain'tcha helping out?" asked the one named Mine.

"Help is done," said the girl. She pointed downward, to the mat laid out on the floor.

"There's still a bunch of other stuff to carry in," Lubbock said, exasperated.

"Never mind that, it's just more opportunities for me to show my stripes!" said Bulat, who marched back towards the cave entrance.

Lubbock looked around, debating on whether to give in to his tiredness and rest like Akame, or gain "man points" with all the ladies present by showing up Bulat, perhaps by carrying more things than him.

Unfortunately, such thoughts were interrupted by an insistent sounding beep coming from one of the objects that Sheele had carted in. Lubbock, who was closest, went to pick it up. Activating the small device made a sound like static come from within.

It was a communication device, one-half of the last pair they'd stolen from the Empire. Such things were guarded jealously by the Imperial armies, who used the object to communicate over vast expanses of territory. Speaking into one paired to another would transmit one's voice to the other device, and vice versa.

"Copy! Copy! Is this you guys?" came a garbled sound from the other end.

"Yes! Copy! Copy! It's us, ma'am!" Lubbock replied enthusiastically, shouting right into the device.

"Stop shouting into the thing!" came the reply, delivered with equally loud pitch that made Lubbock reel back, his ears ringing. Akame snatched the phone, then brought it to the others who'd made an informal circle while Lubbock rolled on the ground clutching his head.

"So you've managed to transport the Cube safely?" asked Najenda, their leader who was on the other side of the communications device.

"Everything's fine. We're ready to re-install Incursio again."

"Ahh, belay that. Things are moving up that we won't need to Cube Incursio. I'm having one of the Away team transferred over to you; she'll be there in a couple of days. Her Teigu's going to be the one more useful for our next assignment."

"I thought Incursio would be good to improve our fighting capability," said Sheele.

"That's true, but this next mission will require just a bit more finesse. The Revolutionary Army's managed to find itself a useful 'in', and I've gained permission to use our new position to our advantage. Thus, it would be better for us to share that other Teigu instead of Incursio."

Kanai's Cube was one of the most famous and most powerful Imperial Arm to have ever existed. Though having no powers of its own, it instead allowed one Teigu user to "bind" their Teigu within the Cube, who would then in turn be "tapped" by other Teigu users to use the bound Teigu's abilities as if it were their own, without penalty.

Bulat's Incursio, for example, had been used so far by all the members of Night Raid: so in addition to their own Teigu, they acquired the abilities of Incursio-without the physical manifestation of armor. It was therefore a little weaker for those who weren't the original wielder, as they would not gain the protection of armor. For Teigu like Pumpkin, the inherited ability would only be the increased combat power during dangerous situation-the intangible effects, and not the physical Teigu itself. Akame's Murasame became a feared tool when Cubed: any strike from a bladed weapon from the other members would invoke the sure-death ability of the dreaded blade.

The Cube had been used in much the same way by the First Emperor's elite group of soldiers, who were tasked to remain in the shadows to help stabilize the realm. Since then, the Cube had been under the purview of the Empire's assassination arms, and had helped secure vital victories against overwhelming odds even through small numbers.

Though sounding quite miraculous, the Cube still demanded its own Due: using the Cube would bind the life of each Teigu user bound for that moment. Prolonged use would permanently bind their lives: the death of one would be the death of all. Night Raid overcame such grim fatalism by promising to never die in their missions.

Depending on whomever was asked, the Cube's theft was either the most brilliant maneuver, or the most embarrassing blunder ever in the sphere of intelligence and counter-intelligence. Its acquiring by the Revolutionary Army had involved many steps and many major players on both sides of the conflict, which ended in the deaths of many of its agents and sympathizers, though in the end they achieved the goal of obtaining the powerful Cube. It involved several scandals, the bankruptcy of the Imperial Bank, a mass slaughter of a traitorous Imperial garrison by the Ice Queen, the Chancellor tearing apart a whole roasted pig through sheer apoplectic strength, the loss of several thousand rebel troops, and also led to the recruitment of Akame into Night Raid.

Najenda then petitioned the Cube for herself, claiming that the artifact would find little use being an object of study and research rather than being practically applied in battle. The Cube was then in Night Raid's arsenal ever since.

Still, it made relocating bases that much of a hassle. The thing wasn't exactly light. Imperial agents were searching high and low for the stolen object even now, and carelessly revealing it at town, where people had memorized the image of the object plastered all over the wanted posters, would only summon them within five minutes.

"I shall inform you later about the specifics-holy shit!" The others looked among themselves, surprised by Najenda's sudden exclamation. Then they heard her cluck her tongue. "Damnit. It's already started."

"What is it, ma'am?"

"The 'good Emperor' has just laid down a Judgment. Fantastic."

"Oh no!" All of them paled. All of them knew of the capricious Judgments, massive, god-like spells that scoured the landscape of an entire region, the size of several-hundred acres. The Emperor could ravage the region with quakes, could call down blizzards in summer and sandstorms in winter; could even prevent non-Teigu users, the ordinary folk, from speaking at all. For the most part, Judgments had been used in the past to simply exterminate a rebellious region, wiping the offending peoples from the map like ants to be flicked aside.

Yet the Judgements could also enforce prosperity: granting rain to water the crops, mana to fall from the sky, sun to dry out the floods, and bounty to spring forth from the ground, ready to eat. All the gold could be turned to silver, and vice versa; all sickness purged and wounds healed.

The latter types of Judgments were what helped stabilize the Empire during the first few centuries. Eventually, successive Emperors grew more self-centered and wicked, only doling out Judgments to punish, and hoarding blessings selfishly for regions they favored.

"I got to-we got to get out of here," said Najenda. "I'll talk to you again guys, just stay low for now, I'll get word to you soon enough!"

"What's going on, ma'am?" Lubbock shouted, his voice weak and desperate.

"Don't shout! And it looks like the Emperor wants to drown this whole region under endless floods. You guys be ready, this sort of tyranny's exactly what we're fighting."

()()()()()()()()()()

It had happened like this:

Before the month was out, Tatsumi was expected to master the intricacies of operating the Throne. What had been thought to be a tense and long learning process with the child Emperor was expected to be made easier with the older Tatsumi, who had been able to grasp the basics of operating the strange "User Display" from the start.

Using the throne, he had a bird's eye view of the whole Empire, from border to border. It would even be more accurate to say that it was a "god's eye view", being that he was able to see everything happening all throughout the Empire as it was happening. It meant he was able to peep on the advancing entourage of villagers he'd invited to the capital. He laughed at Sayo and Ieyasu, who'd grown steadily more terrified of the strange machines and creatures they'd encountered along the road.

He could not hear them, though. That was perhaps too much powerful for the nigh omniscient Throne. The more useful features of the Throne were the bits of information it fed to him about certain places on the map. On the greater map, for example, he saw the places where the Revolutionary Army was camped, but although he was able to "zoom in" on those places, he could not see any sign of an army or a base. Honest had said that most rebellions had learned to operate underground, where the Throne could not see, and the Revolutionary Army had long evaded the Throne's eye through this technique. When he asked how the Throne even knew there were threats in the first place, Honest had shrewdly replied that the Throne might be tracking the Teigu that had fallen to hostile hands, and was able to categorize them as threats in that way.

Still, no matter how it happened, it helped that the Empire had a general view of where threats came from, even if Tatsumi could hardly act on it without first getting off the throne and informing the general closest to the action via the "comm-devices".

The magical display also showed him other things. In the capital, for example, he could count out the population numbers, along with how many males, or females, how old each were, what jobs they held, and how much they'd contributed to the imperial tithes. Again, people were able to evade the Throne's scrutiny by going literally underground, and there had been a thriving "basement city" for hundreds of years where the general ne'erdowells went to, freed from the Throne's roving eye.

Along with population was happiness, though Tatsumi didn't know how the Throne knew that. Then was the number and condition of the Teigu, the amount of gold in the treasury, the armies currently stationed in the capital along with their compositions to the last soldier, (all of it was above ground, for obvious reasons) the number and type of aerial ships, the production and flow of various trade goods like wheat and cattle and fruits, along with the number of factories currently operating within the walls. Above it all was a value he had yet to understand, which he ignored for later.

It was the same thing with the other smaller cities and townships surrounding the capital. But what he did find strange, in looking out over the many cities of the Empire, was that the number of prosperous cities and happy people rapidly decreased as one went farther and farther from the capital. Prosperity was practically negative in the rebellious regions, and the frontier towns were bereft of happiness, big fat zeroes that coincided with the scarce amount of population.

In examining the data, Tatsumi had a thought that perhaps Honest was right. Looking down from above, he was able to see that prosperity was practically nonexistent in places where the Revolutionary Army was camped. The people were fewer, and were very unhappy in those places where the Empire could not enter. Thinking on those bright red splotches staining the map made Tatsumi very angry, and he almost wanted to squash out the rebels with his own two fingers.

Alas, though he very much wanted to ride at the head of a vast army to deal judgment, he knew the sordid business of military leadership was better left to the generals. What he knew of fighting was of confronting weaker Danger Beasts, and not with ensuring the troops were supplied, or their morale. Perhaps he could join in on a meeting sometime, try to learn something...

"Available Judgments?" Tatsumi mouthed to himself, pulling that value close. He was surprised to see that it was exactly the unknown value he'd seen plastered all over the map. The regions closer to the capital, for example, were under something called the "Judgment of Plenty", whatever that meant. Though he was able to conclude that it was a good thing, judging by the immense happiness of the population within.

There were different types of Judgments outside the border of prosperity. These farther areas were afflicted by less positive sounding Judgments, like "Plague" or "Pestilence", that made him wonder what sort of Emperor would punish his own people like that? So thinking, he attempted to remove the Judgement of Plague on a certain region.

"Error," came the voice. "Judgment slots are full. Please reassign Judgments to stabilize the flow of-the flow-of-to stab-the flow of energies."

"Can you be any less, vague, mysterious voice?" Tatsumi asked. "Fine! How do I 'stabilize' it?"

"Rem-retra-Removing the Judgment of Pestilence, without adding appropriate Judgments for balance will be deemed invalid, and ignored. Please think on it, Neph-nephalem."

"So I just need to add another to remove one?" When the voice didn't return, he shrugged and looked again at the map. Well, that made things easy. He'd just remove add "Plenty" to all the other regions, then remove the Pestilence-

"Huh. That'll just make it so that region doesn't get any sort of benefits..." Tatsumi frowned, his brain trying to work through the problem. True, the bad Judgments would be removed, but he couldn't add "Plenty" there without removing some other Judgment. His eyes moved across the map, and found areas of "Plenty" that he was sure were under Revolutionary control. "Well, you don't need those." He began reshuffling the Judgments all around the map.

"Error. Require one punishment-type Judgment on a sector before execution."

"Whaat? What sort of Judgment is that?"

"Pestilence and Plague are examples of punishment-types. The Judgments have been color-coded for your convenience."

"Whaaa... oh, that's better." He saw that the various Plagues and Pestilences he'd offloaded on the Revolutionary territories were shaded a darker red, while the ones with Plenty were shaded a pleasant green. "I'll need to add another one, huh..." He looked around, and spotted an enemy territory. "Now which one...?"

Plague and Pestilence were old hat by that point. He pored through a long, scroll-like list of names ("color-coded for your convenience") of other Judgments. "Oh? Typhoon sounds nice. Yeahhh... Get a load of that, rebel scum." After confirming his choice, a small sound like a bell chime sounded in his ears.

"Confirmed. Initiating Judgment."

He sure could feel the power thrumming through the Throne in that moment. No, it was more like-it was as if the very land itself was a living thing, and he had just ordered it to do something. He sat back on the throne, looking extremely pleased with himself.

())(()()(()()()()()()()()

"Chancellor, isn't that?"

The boar-head was dropped to the ground as Honest began sprinting back up to the palace. The unmistakable sounds of thunder and warfare echoing in the skies on a clear and peaceful day meant only that the Emperor had meted out his Judgments.

But it was too early for that! The boy was not supposed to act without his supervision!

"Stupid, stupid child!" Honest seethed. "You'll ruin everything!"

Throughout the city, people looked up to the sky, their everyday life suddenly darkened by the announcement of a shift in the Emperor's mood, as some unknown cities and towns out there were Judged. They were assured, at least, that attention would not go to this very city-at least, they hoped the new Emperor wasn't that capricious.

...