“Anna-Lucielle, you keep within the monk ranks. Layna, ready your webs.”
Both women nodded, and we proceeded through the doorway with my zombie panthers in tow.
The giant swordsman followed behind us as we entered a massive hall, so large that a dragon could easily have taken flight in here, and even Frost Giants would have looked tiny. The floor was a deep-black onyx, polished to a glossy sheen, separated by a red carpet that extended two hundred yards to steps leading to a throne. The whole way was lined with elite warriors like the huge man who’d just opened the doors.
“Come,” I said to my party, “time to meet this emperor. Yumo, remember what I said?”
She growled something under her breath but nodded when she looked up at me. I didn’t want her attempting to assassinate the Emperor at the first opportunity.
We walked past countless rows of massive golden pillars, carved in the likeness of dragons, supported the roof and ceiling. The walls were a deep shape of burgundy, and were hung with many beautiful tapestries. Statues, painted in vivid colors, lined the walls, and hundreds of large, ornate braziers were positioned throughout the hall. Smokeless fires burned in them with bright flames, illuminating the space with golden light.
Now that we were closer, I could make out a husk of a man seated on the throne. He wore yellow and golden robes that almost looked like bedsheets. His wispy gray hair was a chaotic mess, and his appearance, despite his opulent robes, was more like that of a disheveled street urchin than the ruler of a great empire.
“Who dares disturb my rest?” the Glorious Emperor of Yeng boomed as we approached.
“Well, that was unexpected,” I muttered.
The volume and power of his voice was disproportionate to his sickly, emaciated appearance.
Despite the severe blow to my pride, I knelt. The rest of my party also dismounted from their panthers and knelt behind me. It was best to at least try to get through to the Emperor in a respectful manner first, before resorting to more antagonistic measures.
“I am Vance Chauzec, Lord of Brakith in Prand, and God of Death, Your Majesty, and I come in peace, with an offer of my aid.” I said.
“You come to my Lotus Court with your band of fools in their colorful garb, your painted whores, and some flea-bitten wild panthers. What is the purpose of this intrusion, other than to annoy and insult me?”
“Fuck this,” I said, and the Emperor’s warriors bristled in their places but didn’t draw their weapons. “I’ll speak plainly. I know you have the lost Dragon Gauntlet in your reliquary. Name your price for this item, and I’ll gladly pay it. I’ll also rid Yeng of the Warlock and his reptilian beasts. As long as you allow my army to pass through your realm.”
The Emperor cackled, and spittle flew from his cracked lips. “You think I would be foolish enough to grant you so powerful a relic so that you can run off with it? What sort of idiot do you take me for?”
“Help me, or don’t help me. Either way, I’m going to get the Dragon Gauntlet. I can assist you with your little Warlock problem, in exchange for the item. . . or I can take it and leave you to deal with the Warlock yourself.”
“What makes you think I cannot handle that charlatan without your help?”
“I know half your army has deserted, and that you have neither the strength nor resources to stop him. So quit fucking around and give me the gauntlet.”
“There’s an aura around the Emperor,” Anna-Lucielle whispered to me. “I think I can. . . “ She grunted, and her face screwed up with effort. “There it is. I’ve dispelled it.”
The Emperor’s visage suddenly changed. While he had certainly looked ancient before, now he looked like a plague victim. The skin on his face was a sickly green, and the whites of his eyes had turned a vile yellow color. When he smiled mockingly at me, I saw that his gums were black, many of his teeth had fallen out, and his tongue was gray. He looked more like a corpse that had been rotting in damp soil for weeks than a living man.
For a few moments the Emperor was completely silent, but then an evil grin spread across his face. His laughter was soft at first, but it soon became a booming barrage that resounded through the enormous hall. The power in that sonorous voice could not have come from the skeletal body that was making the sound.
“Who do you think you are, ignorant foreigner, to come here and tell me about the state of my own kingdom, as if you, not I, are the Emperor of Yeng!” He jumped up from his throne, his face a contorted mess of pure wrath. “I—”
Suddenly his expression changed completely, and the fury and wrath were gone from his eyes. In its place was only a pathetic pleading, an expression of abject fear and terrified confusion.
“Help me, God of Death, please, help me,” the Emperor croaked, his voice suddenly sounding as weak and reedy as his broken body looked.
Then, the rage returned in force and with it the Emperor’s strength. He jumped to his feet again, his fists clenched and his eyes ablaze with crazed anger.
“You will not take my prize, Vance Chauzec, God of Nothing,” he snarled, his voice booming and powerful again. This time, the voice was not the Emperor’s but a very familiar voice.
I had heard it on the warship, the night after I’d defeated the Transcendent Sails, and the Warlock had teleported himself onto my ship and attacked me.
Could it be that the Emperor was the Warlock? Did that even make sense? No, the Warlock wouldn’t be sick and decrepit like this. It made more sense that the Emperor was possessed by the Warlock.
“That’s not the Emperor,” I whispered
