Before the sun was even in the air, our caravan of wagons and horses had already begun to move down the overgrown path that could barely be considered a road. My dad was determined to put as much distance between us and the clearing as possible before more of Irene’s undead arrived at the scene. Our hope was that we could reach a major crossroads before they caught up to us, allowing us to hide the wagon trail and hoofprints of our horses among the hundreds of others that would litter a path like that.
I personally felt that it was a pointless endeavor and that we would have to face the full force of Irene’s undead sooner or later no matter what we tried to do, but we were still moving north either way so it did not matter enough for me to dash my dad’s hopes.
All through the morning, I noticed more than a few curious stares from the nearby mercenaries. I ignored the stares as best I could, purposefully avoiding the mercenaries when we were preparing to leave this morning. None of them had confronted me yet, but I knew that my little display last night had left many of them suspicious. Green flames were incredibly rare under the best of circumstances but mixed with Irene’s undead, and the conversation I had with her, I would not be surprised if the mercenaries had already guessed who I was.
My identity was no longer a secret now that Irene knew. If she failed to capture me, it was only a matter of time until she started telling more people in an effort to gather allies, but I still did not want the information spreading too quickly. I might have to think of some way to deal with the mercenaries, just in case.
I bit my lip as I looked over at Charly as he furiously scribbled ideas on a piece of paper. I sighed and pulled at my hair in frustration, causing him to look up.
“What is it?” he asked.
“Nothing, I am just… debating what to do,” I said with a glance at the mercenaries.
Donte sat up using one hand to steady himself as the wagon shook after hitting a large pothole. “I sparred with a few of the mercenaries last night. They were not kidding about being strong. What is that bronze glow they used to increase their strength? It is almost like fighting someone with an innate talent.”
“Each of the Thirteen Divisions has their own method of matching the strength of a Demonkin,” I explained while lowering my voice, “Soldiers of the second division mutates parts of their body, the Ninth Division has their glyphs, and the Seventh Division has what they call the Divine Body. It is not an innate talent, but something that can be taught and trained. By drinking a special tonic and following a specific exercise with chaotic energy, and years of practice, members of the Seventh division are able to activate the Divine Body, greatly increasing their strength and durability. You can tell how powerful someone’s Divine Body is by the telltale sheen on their skin when the ability is activated. Bronze is the weakest Divine Body, followed by silver, and bright gold is the strongest. There are only a few gold Divine Bodies in the entire Seventh Division, but each of them is easily a thousand times stronger than a normal human.”
“That’s incredible!” Donte shouted in excitement, “Can I learn it too?”
“Technically yes, but…” I paused as I glanced at the nearby mercenaries. “The method of creating a Divine Body is a closely guarded secret of the Seventh Division. If they knew someone was freely teaching the method here, they would not hesitate to start a war, and would not stop till every single person taught had either sworn allegiance to their division or was dead.”
“They would go to such an extreme?” Donte asked.
I nodded. “They have in the past. I have no doubt they would do so again here. To the people of the Seventh Division, The Divine Body is not just a technique to gain strength. It is a part of their religion. The Seventh Division constantly clashes with the rest of the thirteen because of their beliefs and will not hesitate to declare war on one of them if for any perceived slight.”
“It sounds like you do not like the Seventh Division very much,” Donte said with another glance at the mercenaries.
“Of course not,” I said with a low growl, “I cannot even begin to count the number of times those fanatics have picked a fight with the other calamities and me. Samson, the Brute Calamity, is considered one of their greatest sinners. On top of having an innate talent that increases his strength and power, Samson also learned a variant of the Divine Body in his youth. He did not even know what it was back then, but that does not stop the Seventh Division from declaring him a criminal and heretic. If it was not for the support of the Fifth and Eighth Divisions willing to go to war over the matter, and Samson’s oath to never teach the Divine Body to others, there is no doubt he would be dead by now.”
“So, I can’t learn it?” Donte mumbled in a crestfallen sigh.
I patted Donte’s shoulder in solidarity. “Do not feel bad about it. The Divine Body can take up to a decade of training before a normal person can even achieve the bronze level. So even if you could learn, it would not be very useful for you. Only those who have a long bloodline of family that also practiced the Divine Body have any hope of ever reaching gold. For everyone else, it cannot compare to an innate talent.”
Donte nodded, but his frown did not disappear. “I still think it would be exciting to learn.”
“Just focus on training the skills you already have for now. There are many incredible things in the realms beyond this one. So long as we survive Envy’s invasion, maybe you can find something even better than the Divine Body.”
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It was just past midday when I spotted the first pair of orange eyes. More correctly, Sylvie spotted the orange eyes when a falcon dive-bombed her while she was scouting the area for me. The attack was so sudden, I did not have any time to intervene. The flacon’s claws tore a few feathers from Sylvie and left a long scratch on her back, but missed closing around her tiny body by the barest of margins.
My blood went cold when I saw Sylvie in danger. I jumped up, snatching Charly’s crossbow from his hands, and started firing wildly into the air. With a single adjustment of its wings, the falcon easily flew out of range of the crossbow bolts. Not a single shot hit, but the resulting explosions kept the falcon back long enough for Sylvie to safely return to the wagon.
Sylvie hopped around angrily as she let out a torrent of whistles directed at the falcon. However, when the falcon flew closer, she quickly scampered behind my leg.
I glared up at the falcon as I handed the crossbow back to Charly. Sitting back down on my cushion on top of the wagon, I scooped up Sylvie and held her close to my chest. I smoothed her torn feathers best I could as I spoke, “Irene has found us.”
My dad grimaced and nodded. “I was really hoping we could throw her off our trail. I did not consider her using animals like you do. So long as that thing is following us, we will never be able to escape her sight.”
“Is Sylvie ok?” my mom asked with concern.
I ran my finger along the small bird’s feather with a small smile. “She will be fine, but I cannot let her scout for us anymore. Irene needs my undead to create more of her own. If there is an opportunity, Irene will not hesitate to capture Sylvie or Nox and grind them up to make her ink.”
“We need to do something about her,” my dad said with growing frustration in his voice, “Even without her undead Irene has enough influence to mobilize part of the Novus military. I do not like having a threat like that following us wherever we go.”
I held Sylvie tight while I considered the problem. “Dad, can I see the map?”
“Sure,” my dad replied as he handed me a few folded pieces of paper.
I unfolded the maps and studied them carefully for a few minutes, trying to connect the rough drawings of terrain with what I could remember from my time as empress. After a few minutes of silence, I finally thought of something that could help us.
“Here,” I said while pointing at a nondescript mountain on the map, “We can cut through Seco Mons about two days northeast of our current location.”
“Seco Mons? I have never heard of it.” my dad said skeptically as he glanced at the blank spot on the map.
“I am not surprised,” I replied as I folded the maps back up, “Seco Mons was created nearly four hundred years ago when I first became empress. An enterprising and slightly insane man with an innate talent to manipulate rock and earth had an idea to turn his mountain town into a trade hub. He used his talent to carve a series of tunnels through the nearby mountain, allowing travelers to bypass the normal winding paths so long as they paid a fee. The project took decades for the man to complete, but after he found silver deposits in the mountain, he was able to hire some help and finally complete the great mountain pass of Seco Mons. For about a hundred years after his death, Seco Mons remained a center of trade for the region, but after an earthquake collapsed part of the tunnels and made the rest unstable, the entire pass had to be closed.”
“You want us to travel to a place deemed too dangerous for travelers over two hundred years ago?” Charly asked in surprise, “How do you even know the entire pass has not collapsed already?”
“I don’t,” I said with a shrug, “But Seco Mons had five different exits carved in different locations across the mountain. Only one had completely collapsed when I ruled. If the rest are still somewhat intact, it could be the perfect place to lose our tail, or set up an ambush for any undead brave enough to follow us into the caves.”
My dad fell quiet for a moment while he considered what I had told him. He then glanced over at my mom with a questioning glance.
“It is worth a shot,” my mom said while pursing her lips, “If we can really cut through that mountain, it could take a week off our travel time to get to the Kala Kingdom. We need to be cautious though. I would rather fight Irene’s undead than face a cave-in. If the passage is too unstable, we will turn back, regardless of the circumstances outside.”
My dad nodded. “Let us just hope we are not jumping into the fire to avoid the frying pan.”