I possess three divine hosts and all three are spectacular in their own ways. Each host represents and embodies its creator in some way or another. In the wake of me sending Rangos on a destructive and insidious mission, my senses and mind begin to adapt to my newfound power over the three hosts I have inherited, as well as a supernatural and omnipresent awareness of both my realms and the souls that rest in them.

From The Devil, I have acquired a host known as “The Fiends”. These are universally evil, inhuman creatures who are eager to enact my will as far as schemes, plots, and violence go. Demons, devils, and daemons make up this host, with each of the three subclassifications getting a unique type of “Exalted” ruler: demon lords, archdevils, and horsemen leading the three respective subclasses.

The Creator bequeathed me with a legion of celestials. These are powerful, heavenly beings who seek to spread goodness across the world, and will joyfully help me when it comes to good actions. Angels, archons, and argents make up the subclassifications of this host, led by angel lords, empyreans, and crowns respectively.

My last relative, Perandor, has gifted me his host of “Axiomites”. These are creatures of law and order who once served Perandor as his chief lieutenants and now serve me. While these creatures aren’t as broadly diverse as the other hosts, they too have their own specialties; one order is specialized in gathering and recording knowledge, another in administration and diplomacy, and the last focuses on the enforcement of laws and military actions. Their particular exalted individuals are humanoid beings of metal with forged wings that look like works of art.

My final divine realm, which was originally owned by my ancestors, does not contain a divine host but instead gives me something even better: the power to create my very own! My avatar inside of the mausoleum in which my family waited for me feels his shadow of a mind filling with knowledge of the divine formulae needed to create a divine host of one’s own making. And he begins to get to work, working to create the first servitors that are my own distinct creations.

At the same time, my divine senses begin to pick up something. I can sense that my “Chief Agent” in the matters regarding the vile leadership of the belligerent nation of Belens is active. My “Domain Sense” power, tethers a sort of sixth sense to my domains and allows me to know when activities related to my domains occur. Thanks to these esoteric senses, this sort of weakened cosmic awareness, I can sense the chaos that Ragnor is unleashing on the people of the small town even without being able to precisely detect what he is doing.

I glance at my wives, who are all casually following me and giving me a tour of the palace. They are, for the most part, lost in their own thoughts, aside from a handful of them who look back at me protectively.

“Dear Husband, are you feeling alright?” Pylia asks, approaching me from about the middle of the gaggle of women. Her pink hair glitters in the midday light of the sun reflected through a few panes of glass. I smile at her and nod gently.

“Yes, Pylia. I am just… lost in thought.” I tell the woman, gently. She smiles sweetly, but her eyes fill with concern and she takes my hand causing our informal procession to stop.

“Dear, please tell me if you find this hard. Who knows what all happened while you were sleeping? I don’t want you to collapse again.” She tells me, causing me to chuckle. Her hands are warm and her smile is hard to look away from.

A unifying trait for all of these women is that they are each truly beautiful. Not a single one of them looks average or plain, though admittedly they each have a different type of beauty. Pylia is heart-achingly beautiful, and to see her features wrinkled with worry pains me. I momentarily consider revealing the truth to her, but I am made of sterner stuff than someone who’d melt at the sight of a woman’s worry, even a woman as radiantly beautiful as Pylia.

I nod at the woman and without turning to face Atima I begin to speak to her. Though I don’t do so in a voice that belongs to me.

“Atima, my child…” I mentally utter, sending the woman a message using the voice of my distant ancestor, Perandor himself. Thanks to my ability to see in ways that are not linked to where my physical eyes are pointed I can see the self-proclaimed slave’s eyes widen in astonishment.

“Lord Perandor?” She questions, internally “channeling” her voice in the mental direction from which the words came. My lips flicker upwards in a vestige of a smile, but one that flashes across my face at a speed comparable to the speed of lightning so only I can detect the thing.

“Yes my child. I have come to tell you that justice begins as a slow-moving thing, but when the hammer falls gravity carries it far and fast. The hammer has begun to drop.” I tell her, cryptically. Her eyes open, plainly now, in confusion.

“My lord, what does this mean?” She asks, hoping that “Lord Perandor” will answer her directly. I do not smile this time, and instead, offer her an answer more to her liking.

“I am saying, dear Princess, that the day when Belens breaks is coming. The day of your people’s restoration will be happening soon. Prepare yourself and your family.” I warn, not speaking particularly sternly but more so speaking forcefully. This causes Atima’s eyes to widen in awe, and for a smile to flash across her face.

This change of expression reveals something to me and brings a smile to my own face even as I close my eyes to feign momentarily basking in the sunlight of the long hallway we are wandering down. I now have confirmation that while Atima herself is seemingly fine with her fate, on a personal level, she well and truly craves justice for her people. I am determined to give my bride what she desires and to that end, I devote a part of my mind to scheming ways to bring the nation of Belens to its knees.

Atima attempts to subtly wander over to Hyrria, the most loyal devotee of Perandor among my wives. The slave-like woman takes the elf’s hand and grips it lightly causing the blonde elf to turn and face the refugee princess. I continue to move along the hallway, while Yukimiko of the Suosoit walks close to me and whisperingly questions if I am okay.

“I am fine, love. I am just enjoying this moment of peace.” I reply, somewhat truthfully. The fact of the matter here is that I am enjoying what I already know will be one of the last moments of peace I have for a while. In the days to come, I will have to make use of each of the various abilities that have already manifested themselves deep within me in order to bring the leaders of Belens to their knees.

At the moment I can hear distant gossiping that I am back on my feet, and the panic this causes the staff of the palace. Hearing this is amusing and makes me turn, my eyes still shut, to Melanin and whisper to her what I can hear.

Melanin is an oddity in the harem. I can easily recall details about the striking woman who has quietly stuck closely to me this entire time. She is a heroine of the faction of my people who worship The Devil, and she is a secret weapon installed in the harem who is fanatically loyal to me above all things, just in case I have cause to fear betrayal by one of my brides. She is scantily clad in an outfit that barely hides her breasts and more intimate locales. A pink mask covers the part of her face that surrounds her eyes and I can feel the powerful magic she wields radiating off of her.

She laughs when I tell her what I can hear, and she doesn’t question what I have told her. She’s the sort that if I tell her something she won’t ask me questions, she’ll just accept what I have to say. She’s not dissimilar to Hyrria or Sophila in that regard, though she has a much darker attitude and she delights in mischief and chaos, which is why I told her about the chaos we are approaching.

“Oh how fun!” She says, excitedly, and I watch her titter lightly. She seems almost energized by the chaos we are approaching. I study our surroundings as we march deeper into the palace.

The architecture of the people of Juttun seems… rather extravagant. I have not traveled as much as I would like, and while I know better than to make assumptions about the architecture as a whole based on what the style is in the capital I also have enough awareness to know that what is here is undoubtedly considered cutting edge and fashionable, due to the fact that this is the capital.

The style of building I can see here is all ornate and supposed to be representative of the highest ideals possible in the empire. It is emblematic of what is done when time and resources are not an issue. And to be fair it is striking.

The scenery that surrounds me is a buffet for the senses. Clean, perfumed air wafts towards me from throughout the palace. I can hear, using what I know to be human levels of hearing, magical music that drifts lazily throughout the palace providing a soothing ambiance that can help keep people calm even in tense situations. This place soothes the senses in unnatural but subtle ways.

Even the hallway I am in, one of the first I’ve seen so far that is entirely indoors, is beautifully maintained. I can tell that however much I am paying Sellis, one of the leaders of the palace staff, I am not paying her enough.

Partway through this trek, I hear the sounds of mad dashes being made in the general vicinity of where we’re heading. I also hear frenzied muttering, by individuals who work in the palace. We shuffle down the hallway and eventually make it into the throne room of the palace.

The hallway we’re in ends as we pass through a doorway into the throne room. The area in front of us is a beautiful, lengthy room where a surprisingly tasteful throne sits atop a plain dais. My brides all gather behind me as I approach the throne, and when I do I hear the quiet gasps of the staff of the palace, all of whom are surprised to see me once again on my feet and walking.

I glance to my right and feign surprise when I see the palace’s staff gathered at the other end of the room, and when I lay my eyes on them I watch them all bow and curtsy to me, all while quickly moving their heads to not make eye-contact with me. I let out a quiet chuckle, and I hear a few of my wives do the same thing.

I turn my attention back to the throne and I walk towards it. I step onto the dais and I cross the distance that remains between me and the thing with ease before I plant myself back on the literal seat of my power. When I do I hear excited gasps from my wives. I clear my throat and I motion for the castle’s staff to approach me. It is time that I address my disappearance and that I reassure those who kept the palace relatively peaceful during the time I was indisposed.

The staff responsible for the place’s upkeep and security all take careful steps towards the throne. It takes a few moments for them to make it to where I feel comfortable that I can speak to them without using some sort of supernatural ability.

“Workers and security of the palace, you have my gratitude. I am grateful to you, not only for your efforts during this chaotic time but for the work you do in general. I was indisposed for a short while, but I recognize how frightening that could have been for you and I am truly sorry for the chaos and turmoil my momentary unavailability caused.” I begin, willingly humbling myself and apologizing to the staff. My words are sincere and I watch the faces of my staff absorb the admission before I continue to speak.

“The work you all have done to keep this palace safe, and calm, and to ensure that was a home worthy of my beautiful brides is commendable. I wish to give you all a reward, not only for your loyal, consistent service but also for rising above and beyond the call of duty when I was away.” I tell the staff, causing their eyes to widen to delight, and for them to smile at each other as I not only compliment them but also as I foreshadow my plans to reward them.

“In the days to come, I would like for each of you to approach Sophilia and tell her about what might constitute a better reward for you, whether it is a bonus for this time, a vacation at some point in the future, or something else, within reason. I shall endeavor to grant it if it is realistically possible. I cannot make a firm promise as to what is and isn’t possible, but I believe that your service to your emperor and to the empire as a whole merit a reward.” I explain, honestly.

I can hear a few of my wives quietly cheer, even as I watch the staff excitedly cheer and praise me. I can sense their loyalty to me increasing even as I gaze at them and smile gently. Truthfully, I’ll honor most requests I can realistically imagine the soldiers, maids, chefs, and other staff asking for since I have something akin to infinite power. I mean what I say, and I want to do my best to be an honest emperor, at least when possible.

My wives excitedly watch me speak to the gathered crowd, and I can easily sense the collective elation of my family. The beautiful women are delighted to see that almost as soon as I have seemingly recovered from the odd state I was in I am up and ruling, and doing so magnanimously. I quite like that my wives, for the most part, are the sort who are excited to see a ruler rule justly and reward exceptional service.

Not every person here even knew that I was temporarily indisposed, but enough do that I am willing to reveal some version of the truth to the people who work in the palace. Curiously, the people who didn’t know tend to be the most excited about the prospect of a reward. This also helps reinforce the notion that there is honor and opportunity in working in the palace, which I like.

I silently allow the staff of the palace to mutter to themselves and congratulate each other for a few moments before I smile and begin to speak again. When I next speak I allow my voice to carry throughout the room.

“I look forward to seeing you all in the days to come and to granting you the rewards you deserve. I am lucky to have such a talented staff, and I am happy to justly compensate you for the valuable labor you all perform for the empire and for me personally. Now please return to your duties so that I may privately address my brides.” I state, in a rather official voice. The staff all wave at me and begin to depart, heading back to their stations as they think about what to approach Sophilia for in the next few days.

My brides quickly walk out in front of me and gather before the throne on which I sit. When they are all gathered in front of me I smile lovingly at them, even as I ready myself for another formal speech.

At the same time, I form an avatar by mentally devoting a portion of the vast incorporeal sea that is my mind, in the inner sanctum of the imperial cathedral devoted to Perandor. This feat is only possible because of how popular a divinity Perandor was prior to his absconding to go to a new world and begin the process of conquest and ruling all over again. Thanks to the popularity of the faith devoted to him I can easily form avatars wherever his faith is at its most concentrated, even if I've never been to the place in question. This particular avatar gazes at its surroundings and begins to smile. He has an important task and is eager to get started.

In front of him is a tiny man dressed in the shimmering white robes of a high-ranking hierarch devoted to Perandor sprawled over a small desk that is dimly illuminated by a flicking candle. The man carefully but inelegantly scrawls something onto a large piece of paper spread out neatly on the desk. He is clutching a small quill and carefully attempts to write the angular symbols used as letters in the alphabet of Juttun.

The avatar begins to wait, not in so much of a rush that he’ll interrupt one of the highest priests of this influential and popular faith. The fact that this priest is a priest devoted to him does not cross the avatar’s mind, which is amusing to me as I watch this all unfold. Regardless, I do not push the avatar to be particularly speedy, as we have plenty of time. We have all the time we need for revelations.