Sovereign Shen Yu was understandably skeptical of Yoshika’s proposal. She could sense his doubt as he chewed over her offer of cooperation. She usually had a hard time reading xiantian cultivators—especially spiritual artists—but even the divine avatar of an ancient deity couldn’t keep his emotions completely private while invading her soulscape.

“Just what would this ‘cooperation’ entail, exactly?”

Yoshika’s tail flicked back and forth as she chewed on her lip—she was making this up as she went along, and she knew that her leverage was flimsy.

“I don’t think we’re ever going to be anything but enemies, but that doesn’t mean we can’t have mutual goals. Neither of us wants the demons getting their hands on the tear, and neither of us can prevent it from happening without the other.”

“Then give me what I want, and this will end.”

She shook her head.

“So will I, and even if I wanted to sacrifice myself for the rest of the world, I don’t trust you to protect the things I actually care about. What’s to stop you from just leaving this world to wither as soon as you get your hands on the artifact?”

“The seal was made to contain Chou’s legacy—it serves no purpose once the Bloody Sovereign’s Tomb has been opened. Once the tear is recovered, it can easily be removed.”

“I don’t believe you, and even if I did, that still leaves me in a difficult position. I’d rather not have my soul torn to shreds, you understand.”

He crossed his arms and grimaced.

“I spoke in anger before. You have been a troublesome subject, and I was frustrated. If you tell me how to find the Sovereign’s Tomb now, I will guarantee your safety.”

The concession was surprising, but Yoshika wanted to push for more. His word wasn’t good enough—she needed to be sure.

“That’s not a threat you can just put back in the box. You kidnapped me, trapped me in my own soulscape, then messed with my head to interrogate me with what I can only assume is soul magic. Only when that failed did you bother actually trying to negotiate.”

“What of it? Am I to pause for every mite and flea that crosses my path? There are billions upon billions of mortals just like you. On this world, you may be an outlier—but across the uncountable realms? You are a mere speck, unworthy of my attention until such time as you become an obstacle.”

“Well here I am, making myself an obstacle. And if you want to get through me, you’re going to need to play along.”

The divine avatar gritted his teeth.

“Make your demands, then. You have the attention of a true divine sovereign—use it wisely.”

Yoshika buried the snide remarks that came to mind about Shen Yu being an avatar. After her own experiences with Li Meili, they didn’t feel fair.

“I’m not going to tell you anything, but I’ll work with you to find the tomb and make sure that your chosen representatives can enter. I’m guessing that would be the Awakening Dragon’s special expedition?”

“Those are the representatives that Qin has supplied, yes. Unlike my peers, I was careful not to disturb the spatial integrity of this realm—I am represented only by this avatar.”

“And I’m sure it’s a total coincidence that the entire empire was at your beck and call from the moment you arrived. How is it that you know Emperor Qin, when the seal makes it ‘impossible’ to enter or leave the realm?”

He shook his head.

“That’s not your concern. I’m willing to accept your proposal on the condition that you do not enter the tomb yourself.”

“Absolutely not! That’s no different from me just telling you! You’ll kill me as soon as you have what you want.”

“Allowing you to enter is tantamount to giving you the tear myself.”

Yoshika blinked—that was a surprising level of confidence from a man who’d just likened her to a flea.

“What do you mean by that? I’m sure Zhen Long or whoever has just as much of a chance.”

Shen Yu scoffed.

“You are dao companions and true cultivators—rather than the shallow copies Qin has attempted to produce. Dao companionship is fragile, but powerful. Doomed to collapse, but undeniably potent before it does. I can sense that your balance is already beginning to waver, but for now you are effectively peerless among your generation. Beyond that I can see the shadow of the Bloody Sovereign in you—no doubt the loathsome sword’s doing. You walk a path of madness that will no doubt endear you to his insanity.”

That was...a lot. Yoshika wasn’t sure where to begin.

“Well thank you? I think? But I’m not budging on this. If I lead you to the tomb, I’m going in. And I still want your guarantee of my family’s safety—pull some strings with your lackeys and call off the war or something. Speaking of which—I want your support for the continental alliance.”

He narrowed his eyes dangerously.

“Is that all?”

She knew it was a rhetorical question, but she couldn’t help herself.

“I want Jianmo back, too. You did something to them, right? Captured or sealed them or whatever.”

“Then, to summarize, you demand protection for your family, access to the sovereign’s tomb, political influence over the Qin’s empire, and a sovereign-grade divine spiritual artifact all in exchange for nothing more than the right to follow you.”

Yoshika coughed.

“It sounds a little greedy when you put it that way.”

He stared at her flatly for a moment.

“I have conditions. If you must insist on entering the tomb, then you will enter alone. You will make every effort to ensure that my designated representatives enter the tomb. You will commit your personal forces to assaulting the demonic enclave, regardless of any political outcomes. Should my influence be insufficient to force your nations into peace, it will not be considered a breach of our agreement. You will commit all of this to a soulbound oath.”

“You mean like an oathstone? Where it will mess up my cultivation if I break it?”

“Nothing so trite. Such trinkets are unnecessary to those who know the proper spells. A soulbound oath becomes part of your path, and is reinforced by your cultivation. Should you break it, your cultivation will not be destroyed, it will destroy you. Your own power will turn inward, your entire essence becoming a single deviation great enough that the heavens themselves will smite you from existence and free you eternally from the cycle of reincarnation.”

Oh, was that all? Not so unlike an oathstone after all—since either way she was dead. Unlike the last time Yoshika took an oath like this, she didn’t think Sovereign Shen Yu was bluffing.

“I don’t have personal forces. And let me bring five friends with me.”

“Make the command of your allies—if they choose to disobey you, then I will not consider it a breach. You are already two people, but as a matter of good faith, I will make an exception for your spirit familiar.”

“Two friends, and familiars don’t count.”

“Done.”

“Then—wait, really?”

Shen Yu sneered down at her.

“I grow tired of this. You overestimate your own importance, and your demands are largely trivial. Every moment we waste, the dragons grow closer to opening the tomb.”

“Wait, I thought it was the demons you were worried about.”

He scoffed.

“Even if they managed to get something coherent enough to traverse Chou’s realm from their disgusting gu rituals, they would tear each other apart with infighting before I even needed to act. No—it’s the fiends that concern me. I never expected them to work with the demons.”

Yoshika scratched her cheek—she was missing a lot of context.

“Okay, so how do we do this—agh!”

She doubled over in pain before she could finish speaking, and Shen Yu loomed over her, glowering.

“I already have access to your soul, child. Your compliance is more than enough to conduct the ritual. Should I fail to uphold my end of the bargain, you will be released from your bonds.”

Yoshika thought that her experience with Eunae’s geas would prepare her, but the soulbound oath was far less gentle. Where Eunae’s magic subtly guided the soul into changing itself, Shen Yu’s was pure brute force.

It was a bond, like those she shared with her friends, but with herself. It didn’t change who she was or alter her mind, but she could feel it wrapped around her soul and pervading every part of her cultivation. If she broke her promise, it would break her right back.

When Yoshika finally regained her senses, she found herself back in the physical realm, in an unfamiliar room without any decoration or defining features beyond its spartan emptiness.

Sovereign Shen threw a blade to the floor between her bodies, where it stuck out of the ground.

“Your ‘master’ or what’s left of it. The demon overestimated itself—thinking that just because I couldn’t destroy it, I wouldn’t be able to kill it. Consider it a gift, and a warning. Do not cross me again, child.”

It took a moment for Yoshika to process what he was saying as Jia pulled the sword out of the ground. She didn’t recognize it at first—it didn’t feel like Jianmo’s aura, and it was missing the distinct red jewel in its pommel.

“What did you do to them?”

“It tried to hide behind its master’s construction to prevent me from extracting its soul. It would have been no obstacle to me in my true body, but this avatar has only limited soul magic—otherwise, I wouldn’t have needed to bother with you either. But since you have them yourselves, I’ll give you a lesson about creatures with cores. Be they fiends, elementals, demons, or even humans—any creature with an essence core is that core.”

Yoshika stared at the empty socket where Jianmo’s core had been, disgusted.

“So, what, you just took it out?”

“It was hardly that simple, but yes. I had expected the demon’s soul to emerge from hiding once I did, but it was stubborn to the last. I doubt it was able to survive for long without the core—especially with that seal on the blade.”

Ignoring the pit in her stomach, Yoshika tried to push some of her essence into the sword, but it slid off like water on a duck’s back. She could feel something in the sword repelling the mana around it.

“That’s why you were willing to part with a ‘sovereign-grade divine spiritual artifact’ so easily. With Jianmo dead and a seal on the blade, it’s just a particularly sturdy hunk of metal.”

Shen Yu laughed, his mirth strangely disturbing to Yoshika’s ears.

“Utterly worthless. Perhaps a fascinating oddity to mortals and houtian cultivators, but ultimately little more than a grave marker. Enjoy your memento.”

Yoshika clutched the blade to her chest and held back tears. She hadn’t really known Jianmo that well. They had been a poor teacher, and an even worse friend. Their relationship was one of mutual convenience—using each other to advance their own goals.

But Jianmo didn’t deserve this. Tortured to death by some sadistic old man with a god complex—and so what if he actually was a god?

There were few people that Yoshika truly hated. Lee Seung, for the abuses that Jia and her sisters had suffered. Yeong Jiwoo, the first person Eui had ever killed, and the only one she didn’t feel bad about. Bai Lin, for her cruel and sadistic treatment of spirits and half-spirits, including Eui. Yan De, for treating Yue like an object to be bought and sold, and for all the suffering his clan had brought her. And now, the divine sovereign, Shen Yu.

She could scarcely imagine ever reaching a point where she could even bring Yan De to account for his crimes, much less Shen Yu. But nevertheless, she swore it. As strongly or stronger than the oath that compelled her to cooperate with him for now—Shen Yu would pay.

Until then, Yoshika gripped Jianmo’s blade tightly and put her faith in her erstwhile teacher. Jianmo wouldn’t die that easily. There had to be something left of them in there, trapped within the seal, just waiting to be unleashed on the world once again.

She promised that it wouldn’t take ten thousand years, this time.