55th of Season of Earth, Year 16 AL

  If Patriarch Swordpeak was an old monster that had witnessed history unfold, the Grand Scholar was a leviathan of the deep, orchestrating the flow of events since time immemorial. He was the man who decided what was proper and what was heretical, what innovation was allowed and what wasn’t.

  He was an exalt who had dedicated his time to books and sciences, but that didn’t mean his realm or strength were lacking. Under his sharp gaze, Greenthorn and Swordpeak flew away from the two former dukes. One or both of them had betrayed them. Still, they trusted each other and kept together, the Grand Scholar’s strength unknown but certainly terrifying.

  Their retreat left Grandfang and Palestalker glaring at each other for a split second. Doubt and wordless accusations flashed in their eyes, and like one, the two men flew away from each other, shouting the same thing - “You betrayed us!”

  At least it’s not six on two, Greenthorn thought with some relief. Not that fighting more powerful opponents three on five was an appealing prospect.

  The heresy hunters stared at the former dukes without saying a word. Their mostly golden uniforms fluttered in the wind, making for an imposing sight. Then, with the tensions at their highest, the Grand Scholar summoned a sword in his hand and decapitated the exalt to his right.

  The man didn’t even get to react before becoming a corpse, which the Grand Scholar promptly stored into his spatial pouch.

  “Yes, betrayers, the lot of us.” The Grand Scholar looked towards Greenthorn and Swordpeak, who stared at him in shock.

  “The Grandfangs betrayed you,” he said. “They have been the imperial family’s informants all along.”

  Fatigue showed in his sad smile, not one of exertion, but as if he was tired of everything happening in the world.

  “Lord Grand Scholar,” Patriarch Grandfang stuttered. “What’s the meaning of this? What’s happening?”

  “You betrayed your prospective allies to the imperial family. They sent the heresy hunters to help you deal with the traitors. Unfortunately for you and him, Saphireblade was the only one loyal to the imperial family in the leadership of the heresy hunters.” A hint of irony entered the Grand Scholar’s voice. “The only loyal man out of all of us is dead, so we traitors and betrayers now need to reach an understanding.”

  The Grand Scholar paused and stared into the horizon, everyone still tense, their weapons drawn. Only the two heresy hunters seemed relaxed and unconcerned that their leader had betrayed the empire and executed one of their peers.

  “A man must be decisive if he is to succeed,” the Grand Scholar said as a drop of blood brimming with mana fell from his sword. “And in these trying times we live in, you must be decisive just to survive. Saphireblade might have joined us had I approached him, but I couldn’t dare let my centuries of effort crumble because of one life, even if it’s the life of a man I respected.”

  He looked at Patriarch Grandfang. “And I don’t hold you in nearly as high esteem… Kill him.”

  The other two imperial exalts moved like lightning, but Patriarch Grandfang was ready. Without a shred of hesitation, he fled towards the empire. He had barely covered a mile with two exalts on his back when the air ahead of him shimmered. Lightning burst out from the ground, shredding the trees and treetops. It hit and paralyzed him for a blink, but in that blink, one sword cleaved his neck, the other pierced his brain.

  “Lord Grand Scholar,” the current Duke Grandfang went down on his knees, pleading. “We weren’t a part of our ancestor’s plot. We—”

  “You knew,” the old man interrupted the duke. “As such, you can’t be trusted.”

  Stolen novel; please report.

  The ninth realm heresy hunters moved as one, descending upon the Grandfangs.

  In a matter of moments, the three ninth realm experts and a dozen at the eighth realm were all dead, leaving only three sides in the sky - the terrified Palehunters, the cruel and indifferent imperials, and Greenthorn and Swordpeak, who were just observing the events play out, gauging the imperials’ strength.

  “What is the meaning of this, Lord Grand Scholar?” Patriarch Swordpeak asked after the quiet settled.

  “While unfortunate, we need to eradicate the Grandfangs. They will resent us and join the imperial faction. Not that your camp lacks traitors you’re unaware of. And while death is unfortunate, handing potential exalts to our enemies is a poor move to make, even for the sake of compassion.”

  The Grand Scholar’s voice held not a hint of compassion, despite talking about it. Swordpeak nodded slowly, and Greenthorn knew thousands of people had just died, even if they were still drawing breath. And he wondered just how many would die should he and Swordpeak survive and the Grand Scholar join their side.

  “What I meant, Lord Grand Scholar,” Swordpeak said, “was why did you attack your informant and kill your subordinate instead of fighting us?”

  “Really, Windcutter? You’re asking a question with such an obvious answer? Since when do you beat around the bush instead of cutting straight to the point?”

  “What is your intention, Lord Grand Scholar?” Patriarch Swordpeak kept his voice civil, but his taut muscles revealed he was ready for sudden violence.

  “My intention is to stop my braindead kin from killing us all. In the old world, I would’ve done that with words, talking with strategists and ministers, but this one doesn’t favor brains as much as fists. For some reason, truly intelligent people struggle to reach the peak, while those of simpler thought tend to perform better.” He smirked at Patriarch Swordpeak. “No offense meant.”

  “Could you please elaborate?” While the Grand Scholar had confirmed he intended to rebel against the rest of his family, assuming an enemy’s enemy was your ally was one of the biggest and deadliest fallacies in war.

  With a hint of shame, Greenthorn realized he was glad he wasn’t the more senior of the two, and that having someone else do the negotiating while feeling left out was a relief.

  “Why, certainly. We’re in the middle of the saurian weald, surrounded by enemies on all sides, and there’s a whole host of potential traitors down below; it’s certainly the right time for a chat.”

  The wizened old man sighed through his nose and glanced down before turning towards the rest of his heresy hunters. “Clear out the rabble; leave the Palestalkers’ camp alone. They only have a handful of spies, and I’ll deal with those myself, later.”

  The men and women saluted and flew into the jungle, their descent followed by screams.

  “Now, you wanted me to explain what’s happening?” the Grand Scholar said, his calm voice overpowering the grim background noise.

  “Well, it’s very simple, really. My family’s plan is to destroy this world, move on to the next, destroy that one, and to continue to do so as long as they can, living happy, privileged lives all the while. Once, when I was much younger, I pointed out several problems with the plan, and nearly paid the price for not believing in our leadership. So, like any intelligent man, I held my tongue and disseminated the information over the years in search of allies also willing to use their brains.”

  Greenthorn frowned, thinking, and Patriarch Swordpeak spoke, “What kind of problems?”

  “Well, I started with the optimistic ones. What if we enter a new world, overflowing with mana, and instead of scattered selfish creatures like the saurians, we encounter a united civilisation? What if there are other gods walking around? What if it has a lower concentration of mana? Won’t the same thing happen as when we enter a dead zone?”

  Greenthorn shuddered. Dead magic zones drained mana from the awakened; the higher one’s realm, the faster and more violent the process.

  “What if we enter a world of pure water or fire? In fact,” the Grand Scholar continued, “the odds of us finding a world that meets all our needs should be impossibly small. I had those doubts and many more, but when I asked the first question, I was met with brainless faith. Trust the gods, they said. As if those gods cared about our well-being. The records I’ve read clearly stated our ancestors were immediately thrown into a life and death battle against overpowering saurians, only surviving because of the knight armors, pieces of magical equipment that soon proved obsolete in our current world.”

  The screams below died; the two exalts and the accompanying grandmasters had made short work even of the Grandfangs’ gathered elite.

  “There, I entertained your bit of curiosity,” the Grand Scholar said as his companions rejoined him, not a speck of blood on their green and gold, which was mostly gold. Meaning they were all members of the imperial family. “Now, shall we discuss the next steps, or should we execute you for betraying our family and killing Saphireblade? I am patient, and have quietly crushed more than one misguided attempt at rebelling. I have left you alone because you seemed the most capable and best-organized movement that has ever risen against the established order. But I have been known to make false assumptions.”