Eor4
## Chapter 7: Court Intrigues and Hot Springs (Continued)
"Thank you," Alpha Yue acknowledged, genuine appreciation in her yellow eyes. "The White Fang will not forget this consideration."
As the council meeting concluded and attendees began dispersing to their assigned tasks, Lianyu Xue'er approached Longxian with measured grace, her frost-edged robes whispering against the jade floor. Despite having been silent throughout the proceedings, it was clear she had absorbed every detail with her penetrating violet gaze.
"Your Majesty," she greeted with a formal bow, her voice soft yet precise. "I've completed the analysis of the arcane formations surrounding the twelfth gate's failure. There are... concerning patterns."
Longxian's attention focused fully on the young prodigy. "Explain, Lady Xue'er."
"The interference wasn't merely disruptive—it was redirective," she stated, producing a small jade tablet etched with complex formation diagrams. "The summoning energy wasn't dispersed; it was channeled elsewhere. Based on the spiritual resonance traces, I believe it was directed to a prepared vessel."
This revelation drew the immediate attention of those still present in the chamber. Artoria and Zenobia exchanged concerned glances before moving closer to examine the diagrams.
"A prepared vessel?" Artoria questioned, her tactical mind already assessing implications. "You mean they anticipated the summoning ritual?"
"More than anticipated," Xue'er clarified, her white pupils expanding slightly as she activated her Heaven-Reading Eye. "They synchronized with it. The interference patterns suggest they performed a mirror ritual simultaneously, designed to hijack the twelfth summon specifically."
"That would require intimate knowledge of our ritual preparations," Zenobia observed, frowning. "Suggesting either extraordinary divination capabilities or..."
"A security breach," Longxian finished grimly. "Someone with access to the ritual preparations."
An uncomfortable silence fell over the chamber as this possibility settled. The summoning ritual had been conducted with utmost secrecy, its preparations known only to Longxian himself, Chancellor Wei Ming, and a handful of trusted imperial cultivators who had helped gather the necessary materials.
"I've taken the liberty of analyzing the spiritual signatures of all involved in the ritual preparation," Xue'er continued calmly. "No direct corruption was detected, but there were traces of memory tampering on two of the material gatherers—subtle enough that they themselves would be unaware."
"Identify them," Longxian commanded.
"Senior Alchemist Bai Zhen and Formation Master Liu Qinghe," Xue'er replied without hesitation. "Both showed evidence of brief contact with death essence approximately three months before the ritual, though the traces were expertly concealed beneath layers of purification energy—designed to avoid detection by standard spiritual scans."
Xuan Duguang immediately moved toward the door. "I'll have them detained for questioning."
"Discreetly," Longxian cautioned. "If they were indeed manipulated without their knowledge, they remain victims rather than traitors."
After the Crimson Horizon General departed, Longxian turned back to Xue'er. "Can you determine what type of vessel might have received the redirected summoning energy?"
The young prodigy's expression tightened almost imperceptibly—the closest she ever came to showing distress. "That's where matters become... concerning. Based on the resonance patterns, I believe the vessel was biological in nature, but... altered. The energy signature contains elements of both living and dead essence in impossible harmony."
"A walking contradiction," Artoria murmured. "Life and death coexisting within one form."
"The essence of the Corpse Emperor's rumored abilities," Longxian noted, his golden-crimson eyes darkening with recognition. "The ancient texts describe him as 'neither living nor dead, but the impossible equilibrium between.'"
Further discussion was interrupted by a palace attendant's arrival, bowing deeply at the chamber entrance. "Forgive the interruption, Your Majesty, but Lady Ibuki-Douji reports the scrying preparations are complete. She awaits the Shield-Maiden in the Eastern Observatory."
Longxian nodded dismissal to the attendant before addressing the remaining council members. "We'll reconvene tomorrow after the scrying ritual provides additional intelligence. Until then, heighten security throughout the palace complex and begin preparations for potential deployment to the Black Lotus Ancestral Grounds."
As they prepared to depart, Lianyu Xue'er paused momentarily, her gaze meeting Artoria's with unexpected directness. Something unspoken passed between the two warriors—a mutual recognition of kindred spirits despite their different origins and apparent ages.
Artoria inclined her head slightly in acknowledgment, one swordswoman to another. Xue'er returned the gesture with precise formality before departing, the frost trail from her robes evaporating seconds after her passage.
---
The Eastern Observatory occupied the highest point of Jinlongya's central mountain, its crystalline dome offering unobstructed views of the heavens. By night, the structure seemed to glow with an inner light, spiritual formations embedded in its architecture enhancing divination and scrying practices conducted within.
Bradamante arrived with understandable trepidation, having changed from her hunting attire into more formal robes appropriate for a ritual setting. She found the observatory's interior transformed—the usual astronomical equipment had been moved aside to accommodate an enormous scrying pool at the chamber's center, its liquid surface shimmering with unnatural stillness despite the open-air environment.
Ibuki-Douji awaited her, the serpent empress's massive form coiled comfortably around the pool's perimeter. Unlike her usual provocative attire, she now wore ceremonial robes of midnight blue embroidered with silver constellation patterns that shifted position as she moved.
"Ah, the Shield-Maiden arrives," Ibuki-Douji greeted, her typical playfulness subdued by ritualistic formality. "Right on time—the moon reaches its zenith in precisely seventeen minutes."
"What exactly will this ritual involve?" Bradamante asked nervously, eyeing the scrying pool with suspicion. Its liquid surface didn't appear to be water but something more viscous and faintly luminescent.
"A spiritual resonance mapping," Ibuki-Douji explained, gesturing for Bradamante to approach. "We'll use your unique connection to the Midnight Court's master—however unwanted that connection might be—to locate and observe their preparations."
"Will it be... dangerous?" Bradamante couldn't help asking.
Ibuki-Douji's expression grew uncharacteristically serious. "All divination carries risk, especially when targeting entities of significant power. But I've incorporated multiple protective measures, and..." She paused, seeming almost reluctant to continue.
"And?" Bradamante prompted, her concern growing.
"And His Majesty insisted on participating personally to ensure your safety," Ibuki-Douji finished, a hint of her usual mischief returning. "Quite touching, his concern for you."
Before Bradamante could process this information—or the flush rising to her cheeks—the observatory doors opened to admit Emperor Longxian. He had changed from his hunting attire into ritual robes of imperial gold and obsidian, the Heaven-Cleaving Spear secured across his back despite the peaceful setting.
"Your Majesty," Bradamante bowed hastily, her earlier blush deepening. "You didn't need to—that is—I'm sure Lady Ibuki could handle—"
"This ritual targets an entity that has demonstrated awareness of our movements and capabilities," Longxian interrupted gently. "Spiritual backlash is a real possibility. Given the Midnight Court envoy's specific interest in your resonance, additional protection is warranted."
"How pragmatic," Ibuki-Douji commented with a knowing smile. "Nothing at all to do with personal concern for our charming Shield-Maiden."
Longxian ignored the serpent empress's insinuation, focusing instead on the ritual preparations. "Is everything ready?"
"Just awaiting the final ingredient," Ibuki-Douji replied, extending a clawed hand expectantly.
Longxian withdrew a small jade vial from his robes, its contents glowing with golden imperial qi. "Three drops only," he cautioned as he handed it over. "More would overwhelm the medium."
Ibuki-Douji uncorked the vial with careful precision, allowing exactly three drops of the golden substance to fall into the scrying pool. The liquid responded immediately, swirling with newfound energy as golden threads spread throughout its volume like searching tendrils.
"Imperial blood," Bradamante realized with shock. "You're using your own blood for the ritual?"
"The connection must be anchored by something the target recognizes," Longxian explained calmly. "Since they specifically invited me to witness their ceremony, my blood creates the strongest possible link."
Bradamante's expression shifted from shock to determination. "I understand. What must I do?"
"Stand there," Ibuki-Douji directed, indicating a position at the pool's edge. "When the ritual begins, you'll need to submerge your hands to the wrist. I'll guide your spiritual senses to connect with the resonance point the Midnight Court envoy identified. His Majesty will stabilize the connection and prevent any attempted spiritual infiltration."
As the moon reached its zenith, visible through the observatory's crystal dome, the ritual commenced. Bradamante bravely submerged her hands in the strange liquid, suppressing a shiver as it seemed to cling to her skin with semi-sentient awareness.
Ibuki-Douji began chanting in an ancient language, her serpentine form glowing with accumulated spiritual knowledge. The pool's surface rippled in response, images beginning to form and dissolve as the divination sought its target.
Longxian positioned himself behind Bradamante, his hands coming to rest lightly on her shoulders. Immediately, she felt his immense spiritual power flowing through her, creating a protective barrier around her consciousness while simultaneously strengthening the scrying connection.
"Oh!" she gasped, suddenly very aware of both his physical proximity and the intimate nature of their spiritual connection. His energy felt... warm, protective, yet undeniably powerful—like standing next to the sun while somehow being shielded from its burning intensity.
"Focus on the pool," he instructed quietly, his voice close to her ear sending an involuntary shiver down her spine that had nothing to do with the ritual's energies. "Let the images come without resistance."
Bradamante nodded, forcing herself to concentrate despite the distracting awareness of his hands on her shoulders and his chest occasionally brushing against her back as he maintained his protective stance.
The scrying pool's surface suddenly clarified, revealing a stark landscape of blackened earth and twisted vegetation. At its center stood an enormous temple complex carved from obsidian, its architecture a corrupted reflection of imperial design. Surrounding the temple, thousands of robed figures stood in perfect, unnatural stillness—corpse disciples awaiting commands.
"The Black Lotus Ancestral Grounds," Ibuki-Douji identified, her voice taking on the hollow quality of deep divination. "But changed... corrupted beyond its original form."
The vision zoomed closer, penetrating the temple's outer walls to reveal its interior. At the complex's heart lay a massive ceremonial chamber dominated by an altar fashioned from what appeared to be fused human remains. Atop this grotesque structure rested an object that immediately drew their attention—a perfect miniature replica of the summoning array Longxian had used for the Pillar ritual.
"They've recreated our summoning formation," Bradamante observed with horror. "But the materials... they're using corrupt spiritual essence."
"Not just corrupt," Longxian noted grimly, his grip on her shoulders tightening slightly. "Look at the twelve points of the array."
As they watched, robed figures placed objects at each of the twelve positions around the replica array—objects that pulsed with familiar energy signatures.
"Blood samples," Ibuki-Douji realized. "They're using blood from each of the successfully summoned Pillars to forge connections."
"How could they obtain such samples?" Bradamante wondered, alarmed.
"The Black Lotus infiltrators," Longxian deduced. "Their true purpose wasn't assassination but collection—even failed attacks would yield blood samples from those who defeated them."
The vision shifted again, focusing on a figure approaching the altar—the scholarly-looking Wei Changze they had encountered during the hunt. He carried a ceremonial dagger and a crystal vial containing golden liquid that looked disturbingly similar to the emperor's blood used in their current ritual.
"Your blood," Bradamante whispered in shock. "But how?"
"The Grave Wyrm battle," Longxian realized. "I sustained a minor wound—barely a scratch. They must have harvested residual blood from the battlefield afterward."
As they continued observing, Wei Changze placed the vial at the center of the replica array, completing some critical component of the preparation. The entire formation began to pulse with sickly green energy, each of the twelve blood samples resonating in response.
Suddenly, the vision distorted violently, the scrying pool's surface rippling as if disturbed by an unseen force.
"We've been detected," Ibuki-Douji warned, her chanting increasing in tempo as she fought to maintain the connection.
Within the vision, Wei Changze looked up directly at their viewpoint, his scholarly features transforming into a chilling smile. His lips moved, forming words clearly intended for them to read:
"Watching so soon, Emperor? We expected nothing less. Consider this your formal invitation—witness the rise of what should have been your twelfth Pillar."
With those words, he plunged the ceremonial dagger into the center vial, puncturing the container of imperial blood. The resulting spiritual backlash exploded through the scrying connection, a wave of corrupt energy surging toward them through the divination link.
"Brace yourselves!" Longxian commanded, his imperial qi flaring brilliantly as he channeled massive defensive energy through Bradamante and into the scrying pool.
Bradamante felt the attack slam against Longxian's protective barrier—a malevolent force seeking to corrupt her connection and use it as entry into their location. For a terrifying moment, she feared even the emperor's immense power might be insufficient against such focused malice.
Then Ibuki-Douji joined her power to theirs, her ancient knowledge of dimensional boundaries creating additional protection. "Sever the connection!" she instructed. "Now!"
With a final surge of combined effort, they broke the scrying link. The backlash sent all three staggering backward, the scrying pool's contents evaporating instantly into noxious steam that fortunately vented through the observatory's open dome.
Bradamante found herself falling, disoriented by the spiritual whiplash—only to be caught securely in Longxian's arms. The momentum sent them both tumbling backward, resulting in her landing squarely atop the emperor in a position that would have scandalized the entire imperial court.
"Are you hurt?" Longxian asked immediately, seemingly unconcerned with their compromising position.
"N-no," Bradamante stammered, suddenly very aware of their physical contact—her body pressed against his, faces mere inches apart. "Just... startled."
"How touching," Ibuki-Douji commented dryly from where she had managed to maintain her balance, her serpentine lower body providing superior stability. "Though perhaps you might continue this charming tableau somewhere more private? We have rather urgent intelligence to report."
Bradamante scrambled to her feet with burning cheeks, offering a hand to help Longxian up before remembering that such familiarity was inappropriate with the emperor. She began to withdraw the gesture, but to her surprise, he accepted it, rising smoothly with a nod of thanks that only intensified her blush.
"The Midnight Court expected our scrying attempt," Longxian observed, immediately refocusing on the tactical implications. "They wanted us to see their preparations."
"A psychological tactic," Ibuki-Douji agreed, coiling her lower body more comfortably as she recovered from the ritual's exertion. "But they revealed valuable information nonetheless. The replica summoning array confirms our theory—they're attempting to corrupt our ritual's purpose for their own awakening ceremony."
"And they have samples from all eleven Pillars," Bradamante added worriedly. "Does that give them some control over us?"
"Not control," Ibuki-Douji clarified. "But connection. They can potentially track your locations, sense major power usage, possibly even eavesdrop on conversations if the proper rituals are performed."
"Then we use this to our advantage," Longxian decided, his tactical mind already formulating countermeasures. "If they can track the Pillars, we provide false movements—deliberate misdirection."
As they discussed immediate security protocols and intelligence dissemination, Bradamante found herself occasionally distracted by the lingering sensation of the emperor's protective energy flowing through her during the ritual—and the brief but impactful moment in his arms afterward. Despite the ominous discoveries, she couldn't quite suppress a flutter of something warm and decidedly unprofessional whenever their eyes met during the discussion.
Ibuki-Douji, ever observant, noticed these reactions with evident amusement but refrained from further teasing—at least for the moment. The situation was serious enough to warrant temporary professional focus, even for the mischievous serpent empress.
---
## Chapter 8: The Midnight Bath
The days following the scrying ritual saw the Dragon-Spire Palace transformed into a hive of strategic activity. Longxian ordered comprehensive security enhancements throughout the floating capital, while Zenobia and Artoria coordinated military preparations for potential confrontation at the Black Lotus Ancestral Grounds.
The White Fang delegation, recognizing the shared threat, extended their stay to participate in alliance planning. Alpha Yue integrated seamlessly with the imperial command structure, her practical battlefield experience complementing Zenobia's more formal tactical approach.
Seven days after the hunt incident, the Pillars found themselves working in various capacities throughout the palace complex, each contributing their unique skills to the preparation efforts. The pace was relentless, with most working from dawn until well past midnight to ready the empire's defenses within the one-month timeframe before the Midnight Court's ceremony.
It was during one such late evening that Tomoe Gozen found herself approaching the imperial archives, seeking ancient texts on purification techniques that might prove effective against the Midnight Court's corruption methods. The hour was late—well past midnight—and the palace hallways were eerily quiet save for the occasional patrol of Jade Guards maintaining vigilant security.
As she rounded a corner near the archive entrance, she nearly collided with a familiar figure—Emperor Longxian himself, similarly working late into the night.
"Your Majesty!" she exclaimed in surprise, instinctively bowing. "Forgive me—I didn't expect anyone else to be awake at this hour."
"Lady Tomoe," he acknowledged with a nod. "No apology necessary. Great challenges demand irregular hours."
She noticed he carried several ancient scrolls marked with the imperial seal—rare documents from the restricted section, based on their distinctive jade cases.
"Research on the Corpse Dynasty?" she guessed, noting the particular style of the cases.
"Indeed," he confirmed, a hint of approval in his expression at her observation. "The historical records of their first rise may contain insights applicable to our current situation."
"Any success?" she inquired, genuine interest in her voice. Unlike some of the other Pillars who maintained formal distance from the emperor, Tomoe's straightforward nature encouraged direct communication.
"Mixed," he admitted. "Much was deliberately obscured or destroyed after their fall. But there are references to a ritual called 'The Awakening of the Twelve Generals' that bears similarities to what the Midnight Court appears to be attempting."
Tomoe's crimson eyes lit with interest. "I'd be honored to assist in your research, if you'd permit it. My flame can reveal hidden text in damaged scrolls—a technique I developed during my time as a general."
Longxian considered this offer for a moment before nodding. "Your assistance would be welcome. I was heading to my private study to continue this work—would you join me there?"
"Of course!" she agreed readily, flames briefly flickering around her horns with enthusiasm before she consciously suppressed them. "Lead the way, Your Majesty."
The emperor's private study was located in a secluded wing of the palace, accessible only through spiritually warded corridors that verified the identity of visitors. As they walked, Tomoe noticed the guards' surprised expressions at seeing one of the Pillars accompanying the emperor to his personal quarters at such a late hour. She refused to be embarrassed by their assumptions—their work was vital to the empire's security, regardless of appearances.
Upon entering the study, Tomoe was immediately impressed by the space. Unlike the formal opulence of the public imperial chambers, this room reflected practical scholarly needs. Massive bookshelves lined the walls, filled with texts in numerous languages. A large desk dominated the center, its surface covered with maps, diagrams, and open reference materials. Most striking was the circular formation embedded in the floor—a simplified version of the imperial scrying pool, though currently inactive.
"Please, make yourself comfortable," Longxian offered, setting his scrolls on the desk and gesturing to the seating area nearby.
As they settled into their research, Tomoe found herself pleasantly surprised by the emperor's scholarly approach. He worked methodically through the ancient texts, cross-referencing information and making precise notes. Despite his reputation as a warrior-emperor, his academic discipline was evident in his systematic analysis.
"Here," she noted after an hour of study, pointing to a passage in a particularly damaged scroll. "May I?"
At his nod, she called forth a small, precisely controlled flame to her fingertip, passing it beneath the scroll's surface without touching the fragile paper. The gentle heat activated dormant ink compounds, revealing previously invisible text.
"Impressive technique," Longxian commented, studying the newly revealed passage with interest.
"A useful skill when battlefield communications were intercepted and partially destroyed," she explained, unable to suppress a hint of pride at his approval.
The revealed text described a ritual from the Corpse Dynasty involving twelve "vessels" positioned at cardinal points to channel necrotic energy into a central figure—the Corpse Emperor himself, apparently in some state of suspended animation rather than true death.
"This aligns with our theories," Longxian observed, comparing the text to his notes. "The Midnight Court isn't merely summoning an entity—they're awakening one that already exists in some liminal state between life and death."
"And they need twelve 'vessels' to complete the ritual," Tomoe added, frowning as she considered the implications. "Your eleven Pillars plus... whatever they created using the hijacked twelfth summon."
"Not necessarily vessels in the sense of containers," Longxian clarified, studying the text more closely. "More like... resonance points. They don't need the Pillars physically present—just something connected to each of you. Like the blood samples we observed."
Their research continued late into the night, the hours passing unnoticed as they pieced together fragments of ancient knowledge. Tomoe found herself enjoying the intellectual challenge as much as the emperor's company—his mind worked differently from hers, identifying patterns and connections she might have missed, while she brought intuitive leaps and practical battlefield perspective to their analysis.
Eventually, even Tomoe's oni-enhanced stamina began to flag, a yawn escaping despite her efforts to suppress it.
"Forgive me," she said, embarrassed by this display of weakness.
"No apology needed," Longxian assured her, setting aside his notes. "We've been at this for nearly six hours. Even immortal cultivators require rest."
Glancing at the water clock in the corner, Tomoe was shocked to discover it was nearly dawn. "I had no idea it was so late—or early, rather."
"Time passes differently during focused research," Longxian observed with a slight smile. "Before you return to your quarters, would you care for refreshment? The imperial hot springs are particularly rejuvenating after extended mental exertion."
Tomoe blinked in surprise at the unexpected suggestion. "The imperial hot springs? I wasn't aware such a facility existed within the palace."
"Few are," he acknowledged. "It's a private meditation space I rarely offer to others. But given the late hour and your valuable assistance, it seems an appropriate gesture of appreciation."
The rational part of Tomoe's mind recognized she should politely decline—visiting the emperor's private hot springs in the pre-dawn hours would certainly fuel palace gossip. But her straightforward nature and genuine exhaustion overrode such concerns.
"I would be honored," she accepted simply.
Longxian led her through a concealed door at the back of his study, revealing a short passage that opened into a stunning natural grotto. The hot spring occupied a cave-like space within the heart of the floating mountain itself, steam rising from several pools of varying temperatures. Crystal formations in the ceiling cast prismatic patterns across the water's surface, while natural ventilation carried the steam upward through hidden channels.
"This is magnificent," Tomoe breathed, genuinely impressed by the space's natural beauty.
"A fortunate discovery during the palace's construction," Longxian explained. "The mountain's core contains natural spiritual veins that heat these waters, infusing them with restorative properties particularly effective for flame cultivators."
Tomoe's interest peaked at this information. As an oni with flame affinity, she often struggled to find suitable recovery methods in this foreign world. "Truly? Then I'm doubly grateful for the invitation."
A slight awkwardness settled between them as practical considerations became apparent. Longxian, sensing her hesitation, gestured to a small alcove. "Changing screens and appropriate attire can be found there. I'll use the opposite alcove. The largest pool is divided by a natural rock formation providing privacy while allowing conversation to continue if you wish."
Relieved by this thoughtful arrangement, Tomoe nodded and made her way to the indicated alcove. Inside, she found simple bathing robes of red silk—coincidentally (or perhaps not) perfectly suited to her coloring. Changing quickly, she emerged to find the emperor already settled in the far side of the largest pool, respectfully hidden from direct view by the jutting rock formation he had mentioned.
She slipped into the water on her side, a sigh of pure pleasure escaping as the hot, mineral-rich liquid enveloped her tired muscles. The spiritual properties were immediately apparent—her flame essence responded eagerly to the water's unique composition, absorbing compatible energy and accelerating her natural recovery.
"You were right," she called across the dividing rocks. "These waters are perfect for flame cultivation."
"I thought you might appreciate them," came his reply, his deep voice carrying easily across the space. "Your flame techniques are unlike any I've encountered in Xuanyuan—more primal, more directly connected to your essence rather than methodically cultivated."
"A product of my oni heritage," she explained, relaxing further into the therapeutic waters. "In my homeland, flame manipulation came as naturally as breathing. Here, I've had to adapt my techniques to work with Xuanyuan's different spiritual principles."
"Yet you've maintained your distinctive style," he observed. "I noticed during your battle with the Grave Wyrm—your flames don't just burn physical matter; they sear through spiritual constructs directly."
Tomoe felt unexpected warmth that had nothing to do with the hot spring. His detailed observation of her fighting style suggested he had paid closer attention than she'd realized.
"You have a good eye for combat techniques," she complimented, sinking deeper into the water until it reached her chin. "Most observers don't notice the spiritual component of my flames."
Their conversation flowed easily from there, discussing battle techniques, flame cultivation methods, and eventually shifting to broader topics. Tomoe found herself sharing stories of her homeland and previous battles—tales she rarely recounted to others.
"You miss your original world," Longxian noted perceptively during a brief lull in conversation.
"Parts of it," Tomoe admitted. "The familiar mountains, certain cultural traditions. But in truth, I was often... isolated there. My mixed heritage made me neither fully human nor fully oni."
"And here?" he inquired.
She considered this question seriously. "Here, strangely enough, I feel less out of place. Perhaps because everyone in your Pillars comes from somewhere different. Our shared foreignness creates its own belonging."
"An insightful observation," Longxian commented. "Unity forged through shared difference rather than shared similarity."
The philosophical turn in their conversation continued as the sky outside began to lighten, dawn approaching. Neither seemed inclined to end this unexpected moment of connection, finding value in the exchange of perspectives.
Eventually, however, practical considerations intervened. "The palace will be awakening soon," Longxian noted regretfully. "We should return before our absence is noticed and misinterpreted."
"Of course," Tomoe agreed, reluctantly preparing to leave the rejuvenating waters. "Though I confess, I'm not particularly concerned with palace gossip."
"A refreshing attitude," Longxian chuckled, the sound echoing pleasantly through the grotto. "Most at court are paralyzed by such concerns."
As they prepared to exit from their respective sides of the pool, a sudden tremor shook the grotto—slight but noticeable. Loose stones tumbled from the ceiling, splashing into the water as the entire mountain seemed to shudder briefly.
"What was that?" Tomoe asked, instantly alert despite her relaxed state moments before.
"Uncertain," Longxian replied, his voice sharpening with concern. "But the defensive wards should have prevented any—"
His words were cut short by a much stronger tremor that sent a large section of the dividing rock formation crashing into the pool, obliterating the carefully maintained privacy barrier between them.
Instinctively, Tomoe ducked underwater to avoid the falling debris, surfacing moments later with a gasp—only to find herself face-to-face with Longxian, the emperor similarly having moved to avoid the collapsing rocks.
For a frozen moment, they stared at each other in startled proximity, the situation suddenly far more intimate than either had intended. Tomoe was acutely aware of the thin silk robe clinging to her form beneath the water, just as she couldn't help noticing the emperor's powerful physique partially revealed by his own disarranged attire.
"Are you injured?" he asked, his golden-crimson eyes showing genuine concern rather than embarrassment at their situation.
"No," she managed, finding her voice despite the unexpected fluttering in her chest. "You?"
"Unharmed," he confirmed, already shifting his attention to the tremors' cause even as they maintained their awkward proximity. "But this feels like—"
A third, more violent tremor interrupted him, accompanied by the unmistakable sound of combat above—spiritual energy discharges and shouts echoing through the stone.
"We're under attack," Tomoe realized, all personal awkwardness instantly forgotten as warrior instincts took over.
Without another word, they both surged from the pool, propriety abandoned in the face of immediate threat. Longxian gestured sharply at the far wall, causing a hidden door to slide open and reveal a weapons cache.
"Emergency preparations," he explained briefly, retrieving the Heaven-Cleaving Spear while tossing her own weapons to her with perfect accuracy.
Tomoe caught her blade, immediately channeling flame along its length as they prepared to confront whatever threat had penetrated the palace's legendary defenses. The intimate moment in the hot spring was set aside—though not forgotten—as duty took precedence.
But something had undeniably shifted between them, a connection forged through shared intellectual pursuit and surprisingly comfortable conversation, then sealed in that moment of unintended intimacy. Whether it would develop further remained to be seen, but Tomoe found herself hoping for the opportunity to find out—after they dealt with whoever had dared attack the Dragon-Spire Palace.
---
Meanwhile, in another section of the palace, Artoria Pendragon had been awakened by the first tremor. Unlike most of the Pillars who had been assigned quarters in various wings according to their functions, the Grand Marshal maintained chambers near the imperial command center for immediate response to emergencies.
She was fully armed and armored within moments of the first disturbance, Excalibur at her side as she strode purposefully into the main corridor. Palace guards were already mobilizing, though confusion was evident in their movements—whatever assault had begun, it had somehow bypassed the outer warning systems.
"Status report," she commanded the nearest guard captain, her regal authority undiminished by the early hour.
"Unknown, Grand Marshal," the captain replied tensely. "The tremors originated from the lower vaults, but communication with that section has been cut off. We've dispatched investigation teams, but—"
Another tremor, stronger than the first, shook the corridor, causing decorative elements to crash to the floor.
"Mobilize all available forces," Artoria ordered. "Priority one is securing the emperor's location."
"We've already attempted to reach His Majesty's quarters," the captain informed her. "There's no response, and the protective formations are preventing entry—standard protocol during security breaches."
Concern flashed across Artoria's face before she mastered it. "Then we secure the palace perimeter and work inward. Where are the other Pillars?"
"Lady Zenobia is coordinating defense from the command center. Ladies Jeanne and Brynhildr are securing the visiting White Fang delegation. Lady Kenshin was last reported near the spiritual nexus points, reinforcing the foundational arrays."
Artoria nodded sharply. "And the others?"
"Unconfirmed locations, Grand Marshal."
This information did nothing to ease Artoria's growing concern. With the emperor unreachable and half the Pillars' whereabouts unknown during an apparent attack, the situation was far from ideal.
She made a quick decision. "I'll proceed to the lower vaults to assess the source of the disturbance. Maintain communication through spirit talismans if possible."
As she moved with purposeful speed toward the palace's lower levels, Artoria encountered Lianyu Xue'er ascending from that very direction, the young prodigy's robes singed and frost-patterns destabilized—clear evidence she had already engaged in combat.
"Lady Xue'er," Artoria acknowledged, immediately noting the girl's battle-ready posture. "You've encountered the intruders?"
"Shadow cultivators," Xue'er reported concisely, her white pupils contracted to pinpoints as her Heaven-Reading Eye actively scanned for threats. "Unusual composition—partially physical, partially ## Chapter 8: The Midnight Bath (Continued)
"Shadow cultivators," Xue'er reported concisely, her white pupils contracted to pinpoints as her Heaven-Reading Eye actively scanned for threats. "Unusual composition—partially physical, partially spiritual. They're targeting the Imperial Seal Vault."
Artoria's expression darkened. The Imperial Seal Vault contained not just symbolic items of authority but actual imperial treasures infused with the collective spiritual authority of generations of rulers. In the wrong hands, such artifacts could potentially destabilize the entire empire's foundation.
"How many?" she demanded, already mentally calculating battle strategies.
"Seventeen detected," Xue'er replied, her frost-edged robes rippling with barely contained combat energy. "I eliminated seven before they deployed formation-disrupting talismans that forced me to retreat. They're using some kind of death-essence concealment technique—they feel... hollow when struck."
"Like the envoy we encountered at the hunt," Artoria noted grimly. "The Midnight Court is making its move earlier than anticipated."
"They're searching for something specific," Xue'er added, her gaze unfocused momentarily as she processed information through her Heaven-Reading Eye. "Their movement pattern suggests targeted acquisition rather than general destruction."
Without further discussion, both warriors moved toward the lower vaults, their combat styles automatically harmonizing despite having never fought together. Artoria led with defensive positioning while Xue'er maintained vigilant rear guard, her frost techniques ready to counter surprise attacks.
They descended through increasingly damaged sections of the palace, evidence of fierce combat marking the walls and floors. Bodies of palace guards lay fallen at strategic checkpoints, their spiritual cores extracted—not just killed but harvested for essence.
"This was coordinated with precision," Artoria observed grimly. "They knew exactly when and where to strike for maximum effect."
"The tremors were diversionary," Xue'er agreed, her analytical mind calculating enemy tactics. "Designed to draw attention to the structural integrity while they penetrated the vault defenses."
As they approached the final corridor leading to the Imperial Seal Vault, they encountered their first active opposition—three shadow cultivators emerging from the darkness ahead, their forms seeming to flicker between solid matter and spiritual essence.
Without hesitation, Artoria charged forward, Excalibur's invisible blade slicing through the first attacker with holy precision. To her surprise, the enemy didn't collapse immediately but rather separated into two semi-substantial forms that continued attacking from different angles.
"Physical and spirit forms operate independently," Xue'er called out, already engaging the other two attackers. "You must destroy both simultaneously!"
Understanding immediately, Artoria adjusted her technique. Using Invisible Air to create a swirling vortex around her blade, she struck again—this time targeting both the physical and spiritual components of her opponent with a single attack that harmonized material and immaterial energies.
The shadow cultivator shrieked as both aspects of its existence were severed simultaneously, collapsing into rapidly dissipating essence.
Meanwhile, Xue'er demonstrated why she was considered a prodigy even among the empire's elite. Her sword technique "Glacier Lotus Execution" manifested as blooming patterns of frost that expanded with each strike, binding her opponents in progressively restrictive formations until both shadow cultivators were completely immobilized, their dual natures frozen in perfect stasis.
"Impressive technique," Artoria acknowledged as Xue'er delivered the final, merciful strikes to her immobilized opponents.
"Your adaptation speed is equally notable," the younger warrior replied, a rare hint of respect in her typically detached voice. "Most require multiple encounters to develop effective counters to dual-state enemies."
Their brief moment of mutual professional appreciation was interrupted by a massive spiritual discharge from the vault ahead—power so intense it temporarily destabilized the corridor's structural integrity.
"That's imperial-level energy," Xue'er identified, her white pupils dilating with concern. "Only His Majesty should be capable of such output."
A sudden, terrible possibility occurred to Artoria. "Or someone using imperial artifacts against us."
They rushed forward, emerging into the massive circular chamber housing the Imperial Seal Vault. The scene that greeted them confirmed their worst fears—the vault's primary doors had been breached, and in the center of the chamber stood a familiar figure: Wei Changze, the scholarly-appearing Midnight Court envoy they had encountered during the hunt.
He turned at their arrival, a triumphant smile playing across his refined features. In his hand, he held what could only be the Ancestral Emperor's Seal—a jade artifact of immense spiritual significance to the Dragon-Spire Empire.
"Ah, the King of Knights and the Frostlight Prodigy," he greeted them with mock courtesy. "I'm honored by such distinguished opposition. Though I'm afraid you're slightly too late."
"Return the imperial artifact immediately," Artoria commanded, Excalibur raised in unmistakable threat.
Wei Changze merely chuckled, the sound echoing unnaturally in the cavernous space. "I think not. This particular item is essential to our ceremony's success. The crystallized imperial authority of thirty-six generations... such potent spiritual essence."
"You cannot hope to escape Jinlongya with that artifact," Xue'er stated coldly, frost patterns accelerating around her as she prepared to attack. "Surrender now and your death will be merciful."
"Escape? My dear prodigy, who said anything about escaping?" Wei Changze's smile widened as he raised the imperial seal. "I merely needed to activate it within the palace boundaries."
Before either warrior could respond, he plunged a ceremonial dagger into his own palm, allowing blood to drip onto the seal's surface. The artifact pulsed with sickly green light as corrupt essence merged with imperial authority in an unholy union.
The entire floating mountain shuddered violently as foundational arrays began to destabilize. The very air seemed to fracture as spatial disruptions spread outward from the corrupted seal.
"What have you done?" Artoria demanded, maintaining her balance despite the increasingly violent tremors.
"Created a resonance point," Wei Changze explained conversationally, as if discussing scholarly theory rather than active sabotage. "This mountain will now serve as the twelfth anchor for our master's awakening. The Dragon-Spire's own imperial essence, corrupted and repurposed to serve the Midnight Court."
With those ominous words, his form began to dissolve into shadow essence—not teleportation but some form of spiritual transmission.
Xue'er, recognizing his escape attempt, unleashed her most powerful technique without hesitation. "Heaven-Eye of Ruinous Fate!"
Her white pupils expanded until they dominated her eyes entirely, cosmic patterns swirling within as she literally cut through probability itself, creating a moment of unavoidable destiny collapse around Wei Changze.
The Midnight Court envoy's confident expression faltered as he felt his carefully calculated escape route severed by the young prodigy's extraordinary bloodline ability. His partially dissolved form began to destabilize, forcing him to rematerialize within the chamber.
"Impossible," he hissed, genuine surprise replacing his earlier confidence. "No mortal technique should be able to interfere with Court-sanctioned transmission!"
"I am no ordinary mortal," Xue'er replied with cold precision, blood trickling from her eyes as the taxing technique took its toll.
Seizing the moment of vulnerability, Artoria launched forward with blinding speed, Excalibur aimed directly at Wei Changze's heart. "For the empire!"
The Midnight Court envoy barely managed to deflect the attack with the corrupted imperial seal, the collision of holy weapon and corrupted artifact creating a catastrophic energy discharge that sent all three combatants flying backward.
Artoria recovered first, rolling to her feet with practiced efficiency. But as she prepared to press her advantage, a new tremor—more violent than any previous—shook the entire chamber. Massive cracks appeared in the ceiling as the mountain's structural integrity began to fail catastrophically.
"The corruption is spreading through the foundational arrays," Xue'er realized, her Heaven-Reading Eye perceiving the spiritual connections unraveling throughout the palace. "If it reaches the central nexus, the entire mountain could destabilize."
Wei Changze, despite his compromised position, laughed—a hollow sound devoid of human warmth. "Precisely. Your options, ladies, are quite limited. Pursue me and allow your precious palace to collapse, killing thousands... or save the mountain and allow me to complete my mission."
It was the worst kind of tactical dilemma, and both warriors recognized it immediately. The lives of everyone in the palace—including the emperor, the other Pillars, and countless innocent staff and officials—weighed against the escape of this single enemy agent with a corrupted imperial artifact.
"Go," Artoria commanded Xue'er, making the difficult decision instantly. "Your frost techniques can stabilize the arrays temporarily. I'll handle him."
For once, the proud prodigy didn't argue, recognizing the strategic necessity. With a curt nod, she turned and sped toward the central nexus chamber, frost trailing in her wake as she channeled maximum power in preparation for the massive stabilization effort ahead.
Left alone with Wei Changze, Artoria raised Excalibur once more. "Your scheme ends here."
"Does it?" he questioned, his form starting to blur again despite Xue'er's earlier interference. "The damage is done, King of Knights. The imperial seal is corrupted, the resonance point established. Even if you kill this body, my essence returns to the Court."
"Then I'll ensure there's no essence left to return," Artoria declared, golden light beginning to emanate from her invisible blade as she prepared to unleash Excalibur's true power—something she had refrained from doing since her arrival in Xuanyuan due to its potentially catastrophic collateral damage.
Seeing her intent, Wei Changze's expression finally showed genuine alarm. "You wouldn't. The structural damage would—"
"Ex—" Artoria began, golden light intensifying around her.
Before she could complete the attack, a new presence entered the chamber—a golden comet that slammed into the floor between them with earth-shattering force. As the dust cleared, Emperor Longxian stood revealed, the Heaven-Cleaving Spear in hand and his battle aura radiating imperial authority so intense it temporarily stabilized the failing structural arrays through sheer force of will.
"Your Majesty!" Artoria exclaimed, both relieved and concerned by his timely arrival.
Longxian took in the situation instantly—the breached vault, the corrupted imperial seal in the Midnight Court envoy's hand, the critically destabilized foundation arrays.
"Lady Artoria," he acknowledged with a nod before turning his full attention to Wei Changze. "You dare corrupt an imperial artifact within my palace?"
Despite his increasingly desperate situation, Wei Changze maintained his scholarly composure. "Emperor Longxian. Your arrival was... factored into our calculations, though admittedly expected slightly later."
"Return the seal," Longxian commanded, his voice carrying the weight of imperial decree—a spiritual pressure so intense it forced Wei Changze to his knees despite his extraordinary cultivation.
"I... cannot," the envoy managed through gritted teeth, blood beginning to seep from his eyes and nose as he resisted the imperial command. "The process... has begun. The twelfth anchor... is established."
Longxian's expression remained impassive, but the spiritual pressure emanating from him intensified further. "Then you are no longer required for its completion."
With speed that even Artoria found impressive, Longxian closed the distance to Wei Changze, the Heaven-Cleaving Spear aimed directly at the envoy's chest. Yet instead of piercing flesh, the weapon stopped mere millimeters from contact as Longxian reversed his strike at the last possible instant.
"Sovereign Flame Law: Soul Cauterization," he intoned quietly.
Golden flame erupted from the spear's tip without physical contact, bypassing Wei Changze's body entirely to strike directly at his spiritual core. The envoy's eyes widened in genuine horror as he felt his very essence being systematically incinerated by the emperor's technique.
"Impossible," he gasped, his scholarly facade crumbling as primal fear took its place. "No physical technique should be able to target spiritual essence directly without—"
"I am not limited to physical techniques," Longxian stated simply, maintaining the soul-burning connection. "The Heaven-Cleaving Spear exists in multiple planes simultaneously. Your Court should have researched more thoroughly before challenging its wielder."
Wei Changze's physical form began to destabilize as his spiritual essence was systematically destroyed, not merely damaged but erased from existence. In his final moments, however, he managed a chilling smile.
"It changes nothing," he whispered, blood now flowing freely from his eyes, ears, and mouth. "The seal... is corrupted. The twelfth anchor... established. One month hence... the Corpse Emperor... rises..."
With those ominous final words, Wei Changze collapsed—not into death essence as previous Midnight Court agents had, but into true nothingness, his spiritual core completely eradicated by Longxian's technique.
The corrupted imperial seal clattered to the floor, still pulsing with sickly green energy despite its wielder's demise.
Longxian approached the artifact cautiously, his expression grave. "The corruption is deep—interwoven with the seal's foundational essence. Purification will be challenging."
"Can it be cleansed?" Artoria asked, joining him in examining the corrupted treasure.
"Not completely, not immediately," Longxian admitted. "But I can contain the corruption and prevent it from spreading further through the palace arrays."
As he reached for the seal, Artoria noticed something unusual about his appearance—his hair was damp, and beneath his hastily donned battle robes, she detected what appeared to be... bathing attire?
Before she could process this observation, Tomoe Gozen burst into the chamber, her flame-wreathed blade ready for combat. Like the emperor, she showed signs of interrupted bathing—her hair unbound and likewise damp, her usual armor replaced by what appeared to be a hastily secured red silk robe beneath minimal battle gear.
"Your Majesty! The upper levels are secured, but—" she began, then stopped abruptly upon seeing Artoria already present and the enemy neutralized.
An awkward moment of silent assessment passed between the three of them—Artoria noting Tomoe's unusual state of dress and her simultaneous arrival with the similarly disheveled emperor; Tomoe registering Artoria's questioning gaze; and Longxian, focused on the critical task of containing the corrupted seal, yet not oblivious to the sudden tension between his two Pillars.
"Lady Tomoe," Artoria acknowledged with professional courtesy, though her green eyes held unmistakable questions. "Your assistance with structural stabilization would be valuable."
"Of course," Tomoe agreed readily, moving forward to examine the spreading cracks in the chamber walls. If she felt any discomfort at the obvious conclusions Artoria might be drawing from her appearance, she showed no sign of it.
Longxian, meanwhile, had begun a complex containment ritual around the corrupted seal, golden imperial qi forming intricate patterns that gradually enclosed the artifact in a protective barrier.
"This will temporarily neutralize its influence on the palace arrays," he explained, his focus entirely on the dangerous task at hand. "But the corruption remains. The Midnight Court has successfully established their twelfth anchor point within our stronghold."
"What does that mean for our defense strategy?" Artoria asked, setting aside personal observations to focus on the immediate tactical situation.
"It means they've gained a significant advantage," Longxian replied grimly. "With this anchor in place, they can potentially establish direct spiritual connections to the palace from their ceremony site. We've become, in essence, part of their ritual array."
"Can we destroy the anchor?" Tomoe suggested, her direct nature seeking the most straightforward solution.
"Not without potentially destabilizing the entire mountain," Longxian shook his head. "The corruption has intertwined with our foundational arrays. Destroying it outright could cause Jinlongya to fall from the sky."
The implications were sobering. Their supposedly impregnable stronghold had been compromised at a fundamental level, and the timeline toward confrontation with the Midnight Court had been dramatically accelerated.
"We need to convene the full council immediately," Artoria decided, already mentally prioritizing response protocols. "And assess the total extent of the damage and infiltration."
"Agreed," Longxian nodded, completing the containment barrier around the seal. "Lady Tomoe, please assist with palace-wide stabilization efforts. Your flame techniques can reinforce weakened structural points effectively."
"At once, Your Majesty," Tomoe acknowledged, moving toward the exit with purposeful strides.
As she departed, Artoria found herself momentarily alone with the emperor as he carefully secured the contained seal for transport to a more permanent holding facility.
"You arrived... quickly," she observed neutrally, choosing her words with deliberate care.
Longxian met her gaze directly, neither defensive nor apologetic. "I was awake when the attack began. Lady Tomoe and I had been researching ancient texts regarding the Corpse Dynasty much of the night."
"I see," Artoria replied, her tone revealing nothing of her thoughts on this explanation. "The resulting intelligence will be valuable to our council deliberations."
A hint of something—perhaps amusement, perhaps appreciation for her discretion—flickered in Longxian's golden-crimson eyes. "Indeed it will. Your tactical assessment of the situation here was impeccable, as always, Grand Marshal."
This subtle shift back to formal titles effectively closed the subject, redirecting focus to the crisis at hand. Artoria accepted the redirection gracefully, though privately she found herself experiencing an unfamiliar and rather unwelcome sensation she eventually identified as jealousy—a emotion the King of Knights had rarely encountered during her original reign.
The realization was both surprising and somewhat disturbing. Her purpose here was to serve as Grand Marshal, not to develop personal attachments to the emperor she served. And yet...
Setting these troubling thoughts aside, Artoria refocused on the immediate security concerns. Personal feelings, whatever their nature, would need to wait. The empire was under direct attack, and her duty was clear.
---
## Chapter 9: Ripples and Revelations
The aftermath of the Midnight Court's infiltration transformed the Dragon-Spire Palace into a hive of frantic activity. Emergency councils convened throughout the day as damage assessments flooded in from various sections of the floating capital. While casualties had been mercifully limited—primarily restricted to guards directly confronting the shadow cultivators—the structural and spiritual damage to the palace's foundational arrays was extensive.
By mid-afternoon, the full extent of the situation had been clarified. Seventeen shadow cultivators had infiltrated the palace through what appeared to be temporarily established death-essence tunnels—spatial shortcuts that had somehow bypassed the outer defensive perimeters. Their primary objective had been the imperial seal, with secondary teams targeting key structural points to create diversionary damage.
The emergency council chamber was filled to capacity as Longxian, now properly attired in formal imperial regalia, addressed the assembled Pillars, White Fang representatives, and imperial officials.
"The situation is grave but not catastrophic," he stated, his commanding presence bringing focus to the chaotic aftermath. "The palace foundations have been stabilized, though certain sectors remain unsafe until permanent repairs can be completed."
"How did they penetrate our defenses?" Zenobia questioned, her tactical mind already analyzing vulnerabilities. "The outer perimeter wards should have detected any death-essence incursion immediately."
"They didn't break through the wards," Lianyu Xue'er explained, her analytical insights proved critical in understanding the attack methodology. "They bypassed them entirely using what my Heaven-Reading Eye identified as 'fold-space tunneling'—essentially creating temporary passages through the void between spaces."
"Such techniques require immense power and preparation," Beni-Enma noted, her judicial expertise including extensive knowledge of forbidden methods. "The energy cost alone would be prohibitive for most cultivators."
"Unless they had external power sources," Ibuki-Douji suggested, idly examining her clawed nails. "Say, for instance, the accumulated death essence of an entire corrupted territory channeled through prepared vessels."
This observation drew thoughtful silence from the assembled council. The implications were troubling—if the Midnight Court could channel power across vast distances to fuel localized techniques, their effective range was far greater than previously estimated.
"The corrupted imperial seal represents our most immediate concern," Longxian continued, gesturing to a complex containment formation at the chamber's center where the affected artifact hovered in suspended animation. "It has become what the Midnight Court referred to as their 'twelfth anchor'—a resonance point connected to their awakening ceremony."
"Can it be purified?" Jeanne inquired, her expertise in holy purification techniques making her question particularly relevant.
"Not conventionally," Longxian replied grimly. "The corruption has merged with the seal's fundamental essence at a level that defies standard cleansing methods. Attempting forceful purification might destroy the artifact entirely—which would destabilize the imperial authority patterns woven throughout the empire."
"And we can't simply destroy it for the same reason," Artoria concluded, having already analyzed this option during earlier strategic sessions.
"Precisely," Longxian confirmed. "Which leaves us with limited options. We must either find a way to sever the connection between the seal and the Midnight Court's ceremony site, or..."
"Or we must prevent the ceremony from reaching completion," Zenobia finished, already visualizing battle plans. "A preemptive strike against the Black Lotus Ancestral Grounds."
"Both approaches must be pursued simultaneously," Longxian decided. "Lady Ibuki, Lady Beni-Enma, and Lady Jeanne will focus on researching methods to neutralize the corrupted seal's external connections without destroying the artifact itself."
The three named Pillars nodded their acceptance of this assignment, each bringing unique expertise to the complex spiritual problem.
"Meanwhile," Longxian continued, "we accelerate preparations for direct intervention at the ceremonial site. The Midnight Court's timetable appears unchanged—one month until their planned awakening. But our intelligence gathering must intensify immediately."
"The White Fang offers its best scouts," Alpha Yue declared, her yellow eyes gleaming with predatory anticipation. "Our shadow-walkers can penetrate territories undetected where conventional forces would be discovered."
"A generous offer, accepted with appreciation," Longxian acknowledged. "They will coordinate with Lady Dobrynya's reconnaissance units to establish a comprehensive surveillance network around the Black Lotus Ancestral Grounds."
As the council continued assigning specific responsibilities, Bradamante found herself partnered with Uesugi Kenshin and Lady Yan Feiyu for a specialized task—analyzing the fighting techniques of the shadow cultivators they had encountered to develop effective countermeasures for the coming conflict.
"Their dual-state existence presents unique challenges," Lady Yan observed, her elegant demeanor belying her lethal combat expertise. "Conventional weapons strike only their physical aspect, while spiritual techniques affect only their essence-form. Both must be neutralized simultaneously for permanent elimination."
"Lady Artoria mentioned you developed an effective counter during the vault confrontation," Bradamante said to Kenshin, whose silent presence somehow dominated the conversation despite her minimal participation.
Kenshin nodded once. "Frost binding. Immobilizes both states simultaneously. Temporal stasis effect."
"My shield can create similar effects with holy energy," Bradamante realized, already visualizing how her techniques might be adapted. "If I modify the barrier's resonance pattern to engage both material and immaterial simultaneously..."
As discussions continued throughout the chamber, smaller working groups formed naturally as Pillars and imperial officials with complementary skills clustered to address specific aspects of their multi-faceted defense strategy.
Artoria found herself working closely with Xuan Duguang and Zenobia, the three developing primary battle strategies for the eventual confrontation at the Black Lotus Ancestral Grounds. Despite her earlier personal discomfort regarding Tomoe and the emperor's apparent closeness, she maintained perfect professional composure—her centuries of experience as a king allowing her to separate personal feelings from tactical necessities with practiced discipline.
"The terrain favors defensive positioning," Zenobia noted, studying detailed maps of the target location. "Multiple elevation changes, limited approach vectors, naturally enclosed by mountain ranges on three sides."
"Which means we need overwhelming force applied with surgical precision," Xuan Duguang concluded, his extensive battlefield experience evident in his assessment. "Strike hard at identified weak points rather than engaging across a broad front."
"Agreed," Artoria nodded. "And we must anticipate supernatural defenses beyond conventional formations. The Midnight Court has demonstrated capabilities exceeding traditional necromantic sects."
Their tactical discussion was momentarily interrupted when Tomoe approached their table, her usual direct manner unchanged by the morning's awkward encounter.
"Grand Marshal," she addressed Artoria formally. "Our research uncovered references to a specific countermeasure against Corpse Dynasty awakening rituals—a flame purification technique that might prove effective against their ceremonial formations."
Artoria acknowledged the information with professional courtesy. "That could provide a critical advantage. Please share the details."
As Tomoe spread ancient texts across their planning table, explaining the complex fire techniques with enthusiastic expertise, Artoria found herself studying the oni-blooded warrior with new perspective. There was no guile in Tomoe's manner, no subtle competition or territorial behavior that might be expected if she were deliberately pursuing the emperor's favor. Her straightforward nature extended to personal matters as well as combat—whatever had occurred (or not occurred) between her and Longxian, she clearly saw no reason for it to affect their professional relationship.
This realization, strangely, made Artoria's uncomfortable feelings harder to dismiss rather than easier. The simple purity of Tomoe's approach highlighted the complexity of her own emotional response, forcing her to acknowledge that her reactions stemmed from personal attachment rather than professional concern.
For the King of Knights, who had spent her entire previous life suppressing personal desires for the sake of ideal kingship, this self-awareness was both unsettling and oddly liberating.
Her introspection was interrupted when Emperor Longxian approached their planning table, his attention focused on the tactical layouts they had developed.
"Your initial assessment?" he inquired, golden-crimson eyes scanning the battle plans with practiced efficiency.
"Three-phase approach," Zenobia replied promptly. "Initial perimeter containment to prevent escape, followed by targeted strike teams eliminating key defensive points, culminating in a core assault team penetrating to the ceremonial site itself."
"The core team composition is critical," Artoria added. "We'll need balanced capabilities—offensive power, defensive protection, purification expertise, and tactical flexibility."
Longxian nodded thoughtfully. "Recommendations?"
"Yourself, obviously," Xuan Duguang stated without hesitation. "The Heaven-Cleaving Spear's multi-planar capabilities make it uniquely effective against the type of entities we expect to encounter."
"Lady Artoria for tactical command and holy-aspect combat techniques," Zenobia continued, gesturing to the formations they had outlined.
"Lady Tomoe for purification flames to counter corruption effects," Artoria added, her professional assessment untainted by personal considerations.
"Lady Jeanne for defensive barriers and spiritual protection," Xuan Duguang suggested.
"And Lady Xue'er," Longxian concluded, surprising them with this addition. "Her Heaven-Reading Eye can identify vulnerabilities in their formation structure that might otherwise remain hidden."
The planning continued late into the evening, every aspect of their response meticulously developed and potential contingencies addressed. Throughout it all, Artoria maintained perfect focus, pushing aside personal distractions to concentrate on the monumental task ahead.
It was well past midnight when the council finally adjourned, with each participant assigned specific preparation tasks to begin at dawn. As the chamber emptied, Artoria remained behind, reviewing the final battle plans one last time to ensure no details had been overlooked.
She was startled from her concentration by Longxian's voice. "You should rest, Grand Marshal. Tomorrow brings heavy responsibilities."
Looking up, she found the emperor standing nearby, his expression reflecting the same tired determination she felt. They had been so focused on crisis management that they had barely exchanged personal words throughout the long day.
"As should you, Your Majesty," she replied, straightening from the planning table. "Though I suspect neither of us will find sleep easily tonight."
"A ruler's burden," he acknowledged with a slight smile. "Permanent companion to the crown, regardless of realm or title."
The observation struck Artoria with unexpected force—a simple recognition of their shared experience as rulers that few others could truly understand. Despite their vastly different origins and circumstances, they both knew intimately the weight of sovereignty and the isolation it often imposed.
"I never properly thanked you," Longxian continued after a brief pause, "for your quick response during the attack. Your confrontation with Wei Changze prevented further casualties among the palace staff."
"I was merely fulfilling my duty as Grand Marshal," Artoria replied automatically, though she appreciated the acknowledgment.
"Perhaps," Longxian conceded. "But duty alone rarely produces such exceptional results. Your commitment to this empire—a realm not your own—goes beyond mere obligation."
Artoria considered this assessment thoughtfully. "When I accepted the position of Grand Marshal, I gave my word to serve with all my ability. The realm's origin matters less than the honor of that commitment."
"The code of a true knight," Longxian observed with evident respect. "Rare in any world, I suspect."
A comfortable silence fell between them—two rulers who understood duty, sacrifice, and the burden of responsibility in ways few others could comprehend. For a moment, titles and positions faded, leaving simply two kindred spirits recognizing something fundamental in each other.
"The coming conflict will test us all," Longxian finally said, his voice quieter but no less resolved. "But I find myself grateful that when facing such a challenge, I have warriors of your caliber at my side."
"We will prevail," Artoria stated with quiet certainty. "Whatever the Midnight Court plans, whatever this 'Corpse Emperor' might be, we face it together."
Something shifted in Longxian's expression at her words—a subtle softening that revealed, briefly, the man beneath the emperor's mantle. "Together," he repeated, the single word carrying unexpected weight.
As they finally departed the council chamber, walking side by side through the quiet palace corridors, Artoria found her earlier discomfort regarding Tomoe fading into perspective. Whatever relationships might be forming among the Pillars and their emperor, their shared purpose and commitment to protecting the realm created bonds that transcended simple categorization.
The path ahead would be challenging and dangerous, but in this moment of quiet understanding between two rulers who had each carried the weight of a crown, Artoria found unexpected comfort.