CHAPTER 693: 693

But in the Empire, worship of gods had become a silent, forbidden practice. A cultural taboo. Something done secretly behind closed doors if done at all. The Empire tolerated no higher authority, not even divine ones.

So when druids openly mentioned gods, shared stories of divine nature...described magical paths one could attain without payment, schooling, or permission...

It was as if they had torn open a sealed vault inside the minds of the people.

For the first time in generations, ordinary humans began to imagine spiritual growth, magical expression, and divine connection outside the control of the Empire.

They dared to wonder, What else has been hidden from us and What else could they have had?

And while the nobles panicked, while officials scrambled to monitor these gatherings, the druids remained blissfully unaware.

They believed they were merely fulfilling their sacred duty.

Helping the land, Helping the creatures and Helping the people.

The idea that they were destabilizing an entire empire never even crossed their minds.

To them, the humans were simply lost children finally learning how to listen to the world again.

And that innocence, more than anything, terrified the Empire’s rulers.

Meanwhile, the ease that once softened Chen’s expression was gone. Each new report about the godlings chipped away another layer of his composure. He had expected them to be chaotic, unpredictable forces that might stir up trouble here and there, but ultimately harmless and redeemable. What he had not expected was the deliberate unravelling of the empire’s structure... the very framework he had spent years maintaining.

And he could not openly go back on his word now. Not after making promises, to his people, and to himself. But as the godlings continued to tug threads loose, Chen felt a different sensation rising inside him. Anticipation that this would draw his father out of hiding.

The empire’s social order, its traditions, and even the deeper mechanisms that sustained it... all of it bore his father’s influence. His father had been a silent architect, a shadow guiding the empire’s shape. Certainly, the old man would not sit back and watch the system he molded crumble.

Especially not now, when the vampires were stirring.

If the vampires made a hostile move against the empire, if they responded to his provocation and decides to act, would his father remain silent? Would he let a future conflict ignite unchecked? Chen doubted it. The humans and the empire on this continent should be importnat to his father.

Chen needed, desperately to predict his father’s next steps. To understand what the old man might do, if only to preserve what little peace of mind he still had. The cursed spirit hovering at the edge of his consciousness was an ever-present reminder of the danger he lived in. A reminder of how fragile his safety was. How fragile his freedom.

His mental state needed to be clear, stable, undisturbed... yet how could it be, with his father hidden from sight and pulling strings? Every day Chen woke half-afraid that he would open his eyes and discover it had all been a dream, that he was still his father’s pawn, still trapped in the endless cycle of obedience and fear.

The thought alone made his stomach tighten.

He tore his gaze away from the latest reports. There was nothing more he could do about the godlings, not without risking their ire and creating new enemies he could not afford. Action would only escalate things. And escalation was the last thing he needed.

But he could still plead.

He could appeal to the godling’s reasoning, perhaps even their compassion, reminding them that their actions had consequences far beyond their whims. That they were shaking the livelihoods of people who had done them no wrong.

Perhaps, if he spoke carefully enough, they would listen.

Perhaps.

Chen did not approach the godlings himself. That would have been reckless and it was not yet time for them to meet. Instead, he summoned a handful of his most trusted officials men and women seasoned enough to understand the gravity of every word they spoke, yet calm enough to stand before these godlings.

They knelt before him in the dimly lit chamber, the heavy scent of incense mingling with the tension in the air. Chen handed them a sealed decree, its surface marked with the imperial crest and a thin trace of his own mana signature, a subtle signal that the message truly carried the emperor’s intent.

"Deliver this with care," he said quietly. "You will not embellish. You will not hesitate. Speak exactly as written."

The eldest official bowed deeply. "As His Majesty commands."

When they departed, Chen felt the weight in his chest grow heavier.

The godlings received the officials in a courtyard that had been reserved and renovated for them according to the godlings needs.

The officials bowed, maintaining the fine line between reverence and dignity. The eldest stepped forward and unfurled the decree.

"In the name of His Imperial Majesty," he began, voice steady, "we humbly relay the emperor’s gratitude for your presence and your intent. His Majesty acknowledges your pursuit of greater understanding and your request for passage."

The official continued carefully, "His Majesty asks for your understanding. This request touches upon a law that has not been invoked since its creation. Its procedures are complex, its safeguards numerous. To ensure the integrity of the empire and for your safety as well, it requires preparation."

A Werewolf godling scoffed softly. "Preparation? We are godling. We have no need for your bureaucratic obstacles."

The lead official bowed his head even lower. "We do not doubt your greatness. But the law was crafted not to hinder, but to protect. Even the emperor cannot override it without due process. His Majesty earnestly asks that you grant him time. He swears that permission will be provided... but only once all safeguards are properly aligned. To rush this would endanger both the empire and yourselves."

The courtyard fell silent.

Another official stepped forward, adding gently, "His Majesty also humbly requests that until this process is complete, the godlings refrain from altering imperial structures, political, social, or metaphysical. Your actions ripple far and deep, and the livelihoods of countless people shift with every change. The empire does not wish to constrain you, but to prevent unintended harm."

The officials braced themselves, uncertain how the godlings would react.

A ripple of wind swept across the courtyard, carrying with it the rustle of feathers. From among the godlings, a Harpy stepped forward, tall and regal, wings arched like curved blades beside her. Her talons clicked sharply against the stone as she approached.

Her eyes, cold pinned the officials where they stood.

"Before we proceed any further with you," she said, her voice ringing with an unnatural clarity "there is a matter the empire must address. Why has your emperor interfered with our communication with the outside world?"

She tilted her head slightly, a gesture both curious and threatening.

"It is... difficult not to interpret such actions as an offense."

The other godlings watched in silence. Some were amused, some irritated, some unreadable, yet all were focused on the officials now, waiting to see how they would defend this accusation.

The officials felt sweat gathering at their brows beneath their formal crowns. This they were not prepared for and they certainly had not expected the godlings to confront them about it directly. They believed this was a situation where both knew the truth but chose to be ignorant of it.

The eldest official stepped forward, hands trembling just enough to betray his nerves.

"Honoured one," he began, voice respectful but tight, "we deeply regret any misunderstanding. The empire has not acted with hostility. The interference you speak of is... an unintended consequence of our protective wards."

The Harpy’s wings tightened behind her. "Protective," she echoed, dripping with scepticism.

"Yes," the official said quickly, lowering his head even further. "The empire maintains several layers of field, some old, some recent to shield our citizens from external spiritual disturbances like the curses and undead spirits. These wards were not designed to target or impede with your communication. They react to fluctuations of energy and spiritual resonance automatically."

Another official added, cautiously, "Since your arrival, these systems have become strained, confused, if we may say so with unfamiliar mana signatures. They may have responded defensively. This was not... not a directive from His Majesty."

The Harpy godling’s gaze sharpened. "Then why," she pressed, "was no effort made to inform us? To warn us? You let us believe we were being purposefully silenced."

A murmur rippled through the godlings, some nodding in agreement, others grumbling, others appearing more annoyed that they had misinterpreted the situation.

The officials exchanged anxious glances. This was exactly the type of misunderstanding Chen had intended: one wrong phrasing, one miscommunication, and the godlings could perceive insults where none were intended. They should be happy for achieving this, but now face to face with it, they realize their life is the one in the line.