As the Emperor's Blades stepped into the mansion, they immediately felt the weight of unseen eyes watching them.
The plants throughout the estate were impeccably trimmed, yet something about them felt unnatural—almost as if they were not mere vegetation, but living beings disguised as flora.
Every servant they passed radiated an imposing presence. Though none matched the strength of an Emperor's Blade, they were undeniably far more formidable than ordinary soldiers.
What made the atmosphere even more unnerving were the snakes—slithering across the polished floors from time to time, their hissing echoing faintly through the halls. It sent a chill down the spine, though none of the Emperor's Blade flinched.
For professionally trained operatives, such strangeness was expected.
After all, immortals were known for their eccentricities. Long lives and vast knowledge often led them to cultivate strange habits and surround themselves with unusual things. That was their privilege—and their burden.
"Honored guests, Master Kashchey is currently painting," said a butler dressed in a pristine black suit, bowing politely. "If your matter is not urgent, may I request that you wait until he has finished? Refreshments have been prepared for your comfort."
With a courteous smile, the butler guided the Emperor's Blades into the reception room.
Though some of the Emperor Blade's were visibly displeased with the Duke's disregard for their presence, there was little they could do.
Smirnov's mission this time was not just a simple visit. He was here to replace the previous Emperor's Blade stationed with the Duke—an official transition of duty. His presence was meant to maintain communication between Kashchey and the Emperor, and more subtly, to monitor the immortal's activities.
After all, Kashchey had been a central figure in Ursus since its founding. His influence ran deep, and his power, even now, remained unparalleled. Close observation was both a necessity and a precaution.
Hours later, the butler returned to escort them to the Duke's study.
Finally, Smirnov came face-to-face with the man he had been sent to watch.
Kashchey was a Phidian—tall and slender, with white hair and pointed ears. He sat calmly before a painting, the tools of his craft still at hand. The work was a traditional Yan-style landscape ink painting, the ink still glistening slightly—freshly completed.
Upon noticing the Emperor's Blades, the Duke gave a slight nod, then returned his gaze to them, silent.
His eyes were sharp, gleaming with a deep, unmistakable malice. They made no attempt to hide his displeasure at their arrival.
Smirnov stared back in silence, but the weight of the immortal's presence soon forced him to look away.
"The Empire requires me to protect you, Your Excellency the Duke," he said, his voice low and formal. He had no intention of creating conflict. Kashchey was more than just another immortal—he was a cornerstone of Ursus, a figure of immeasurable power, and had served the Empire for millennia. He deserved respect—unless he proved a threat.
"I understand," Kashchey replied smoothly. "I've already prepared your accommodations. Beginning tomorrow, you may remain by my side—just as your predecessors have done for dozens of generations."
He offered a faint smile, but the malice in his eyes lingered.
As a master of soul manipulation, Kashchey had already peered into Smirnov's mind. He understood his fear.
"Have a pleasant evening."
With that, the audience was over.
Smirnov gave a brief gesture of farewell and followed the butler quietly out of the room.
---
"Maybe I should just buy a pair of glasses."
Kashchey shook his head with a sigh. The malice the Emperor's Blade sensed wasn't truly aimed at him—it was merely the residual [precipitation] of being a stream-of-consciousness immortal. That lingering emotional confusion often leaked out despite his control. Though Kashchey was better than most at managing it, traces would still surface unintentionally. The eyes, being windows to the soul, were the most likely to betray such emotions.
So, the hostility Smirnov had seen wasn't real—it was just an echo of the past.
"Why did I ever agree to a contest with that nerdy girl?" Kashchey muttered, irritated. "Why did I choose to challenge her on realism, my weakest style? I should've forced her to face me in abstract or impressionist painting!"
He thought back to his travels in Yan, where he had encountered another immortal—a painter like himself. By sheer accident, he'd trespassed on her territory, and in the spark of inspiration, produced a realistic landscape painting.
Then she criticized it.
Her! A mountain-dwelling recluse with no sense of modern aesthetics. She couldn't even tell realism from abstraction properly—and yet she dared to critique him.
Could Kashchey let that slide? Of course not.
They clashed through brush and ink for three hundred rounds, their artistic duel nearly alerting Yan's Supervisory Department. With no clear victor and authorities closing in, the two immortals begrudgingly exchanged contact information—agreeing to continue their battle another day.
With a wave of his hand, a nearby servant stepped forward, holding a small cage. Inside, a feathered beast rustled nervously, its eyes sharp and restless.
Kashchey reached in and gently grabbed it by the wings, holding it up to eye level. The creature hissed—but then stopped.
"You love freedom," Kashchey murmured, projecting his thoughts directly into the beast's mind. "And I love freedom. Therefore—you are me."
The feathered beast went still, as if understanding.
Kashchey carefully packed his painting, securing it to the beast's back. It nodded, almost human-like, before flapping its wings and taking off through the open window.
"I wish you a safe journey," Kashchey whispered as he watched it disappear into the night sky. "After all… I still hate pain."
---
Far away, in a secluded corner of Shangshu, Yan State—
A woman with long, dark green hair sat at her desk, quietly immersed in her art.
She had a graceful frame, and a long, dragon-like tail curled around the chair. One hand held a wooden drawing board steady, the other guided an oil pen with delicate precision.
Furrowed brows shadowed her focused expression.
The woman, named Dusk, studied her canvas carefully.
"Though I still don't fully understand this 'oil painting' technique," she murmured, "its unique characteristics—so different from ink painting—are truly fascinating."
She finally lowered her pen. On the board was the image of a Terranoid creature with a serpentine tail. The face was vague—an indistinct figure that looked both male and female, young and old. Only the eyes stood out, filled with unmistakable malice.
"That'll be the next challenge," Dusk muttered. "I'll face him in oil painting. This test piece will serve as a declaration."
With a mischievous glint in her eye, she picked up her ink pen and began sketching a small, blue rat-like creature.
"Hmph. Not everyone deserves one of my paintings. He better treasure this."
The strange creature squeaked, swallowed the painting, and scurried out, vanishing into the shadows.
---
Sui Regulator—an institution in Yan State tasked with managing matters related to the "Twelve Fragments" of the gods.
At that moment, a Lung-blooded man sat quietly, listening to a report from his subordinate.
"Sir, one of the Twelve Fragments—Dusk—has recently been observed making unknown contact with individuals outside our purview. Shall we intervene?"
"No," the Lung man replied with a calm shake of his head.
"Continue observation. If she shows signs of agitation or hostility, you may terminate the investigation. Dusk is the most pacifistic among the fragments. Instead of wasting our time on her, focus on investigating the recent rumors regarding the reappearance of the Nian Beast."
"Understood, sir."
After the subordinate departed, the Lung man entered a dark chamber deeper within the compound.
There, he took his place on a throne-like seat and activated an Originium transmission array. Faint glows shimmered in the air as projections of Yan's top officials appeared around the room.
"This is a favorable development," rasped a voice from the shadows. "If Dusk is building emotional connections, it will strengthen her Terranity. That can only aid her long-term integration into society."
"I object!" barked another figure. "This is a dangerous deviation from protocol! Are we willing to let her slip beyond our control? Must we be reminded of the era of the giant beasts? Eight hundred thousand soldiers died suppressing them! We cannot dishonor that sacrifice!"
"The purpose of Sui Regulator," a third voice interjected calmly, "is to foster mutual understanding. If we're seen as jailers, they will withdraw further from us. I support continued observation, not surveillance. Let Dusk be."
After a tense exchange of opinions, the council reluctantly agreed to the Lung man's proposal. One by one, their projections vanished.
Snort.
Some still failed to grasp the true reason the Feranmuts were feared. It wasn't just their strength or their longevity—it was their complete lack of need from Terranity. That detachment had made them incapable of integrating into society. And yet, their power alone was enough to endanger the very land they resided in.
If a being can fulfill all its needs independently, it loses its incentive to interact with others. Over time, it forgets how.
Dusk, in her apathy toward the world, was slowly drifting in that direction. The day she could no longer relate to the fleeting lives of mortals would mark the beginning of a threat far more dangerous than open hostility.
Yan could not afford that.
"I hope my decision is the right one this time," the Lung man muttered to himself.
His expression suddenly shifted—strange, unfamiliar. For a moment, it was as if someone else entirely were looking through his eyes.
"…Let's see which old friend my sister has taken an interest in."
---
T/N: Some "human" words in this chapter have been changed to "Terran" based on feedback from my previous Arknights fanfiction. What are your thoughts? I think it feels strange, especially on Arknights' Rhodes Island itself, where there is literally a department named the Human Resources Department...