The Avenueâs four Paragons didnât only represent their organization. They represented their whole Alliance. If something were to happen to them here on Northern soil, then the entire government of the East would be forced to retaliate.
Things would have played out differently if the alien threat didnât exist, but they did, and they were coming. Once again the North would be first to suffer. It was unwise to start a war with the East under these circumstances.
Hearing the query, the Wine Masterâs cold gaze fell upon the Epochrion. His voice was soft, but unfriendly. âThe Clairvoyant isnât dead. Thatâs hardly leaving the Avenue undefended.â
The Terminator was slow to react. He may have only been one level of Paragon beneath the Clairvoyant, but the gulf between them was immense. That was as true in their contributions to humanity as it was to their strength. This was also why he feared the idea of another Clairvoyant so much.
The Terminatorâs voice was hard by contrast. âYou thought bringing so many people here would frighten me in to letting her go, Wine Master? You forget â this is the North!â
âThat is exactly what I think,â the Wine Master tepidly replied. âAnd now that Iâm here, do you think we would put Junâer in harmâs way? Pharmacist⊠show him.â
A smile spread across her pretty face, and she set the bundle in her arms to the ground. Junâer began to walk forward with a stiff and awkward gait.
Everyone here was among the best Adepts of humanity. With their incredible powers of perception, it only took half a moment to realize the truth: this was a robot!
The Terminatorâs face fell. âImpossible. I felt her powers myself in the Arena. I know she was real.â
âOf course she is,â the Wine Master replied. âIf she werenât why would we go through all this trouble? I was waiting in the corridors when the tournament finished. A quick exchange, and that was that. The details arenât important.â
Indeed they werenât, and to explain any further would be an insult to the Paragonâs intelligence. The Wine Masterâs powers lie in interdimensional manipulation. Absconding Junâer to safety was a simple matter, as was replacing her with this metallic substitute.
Defeat was evident to the Terminator, and it was starting to fray his nerves. Heâd been outsmarted, and all his strength couldnât change the fact. The Avenue had prepared well.
Their objective wasnât here. What was the point of any further conflict? Especially when the Bookworm and Keeper seemed to have such little regard for Northern life. They were already prepared to inflict massive damage to Luo if provoked. They had defensive measures in place, of course, but who knew how well theyâd fare against a cadre of Paragons.
âGood, fine! You may go. But Jun Yongye and Xuanyuan Shishi are not your responsibility.â The Terminator was grasping for a victory.
âThey are not part of the Avenue,â the Wine Master confirmed.
âBut they are my fellow apprentices,â the Pharmacist interjected.
The Terminatorâs face darkened even further. The art of the sword was an ancient technique passed from master to student, so her assertions were plausible. It made him furious.
Jun Yongye languidly sauntered over to the Pharmacistâs side. He smiled. âYou wonât be keeping us here either, even if youâre Paragons. Xuayuna, letâs head out. We donât want to bring our friends anymore trouble. Sister, weâll find you when you get back.â He nodded once toward his companion. Then, pausing for a moment, the swordsman looked toward Lan Jue and nodded as well.
Xuanyuan Shishi arrived at his friendâs side. There was an odd flash, and then the two changed before everyoneâs eyes. Two swords â one red, one blue â hung suspended in air. They glimmered brilliantly and then, piercing effortlessly through the ground, vanished.
It was an unanticipated exit, to be sure. Neither the Terminator nor the Epochrion knew they could do that.
The Pontiff waved his scepter, and an aura of holy light spread out around him. He looked prepared for battle. The Epochrion fixed the Wine Master with her silent, shimmering gaze.
The Terminatorâs chest heaved, fighting his anger. After a moment, though, he eased. His voice was hard as iron. âI am honored to have so many illustrious Paragon guests on Luo, but youâve taxed my hospitality. I ask that you leave as quickly as youâre able. Men! Send them off!â
The Terminator dissolved in to a jet black column of energy, then vanished. It had seemed frank, but it was more fatal than the Easternerâs had known. He could feel the Pontiffâs lust for blood, and letting that loose would have hurt his people as well as theirs. Everything would have been thrown in to chaos. In light of these unfortunate revelations, fighting would have achieved nothing. After all, there was their common enemy to consider. He would have to swallow the bitter pill of todayâs embarrassment.
With the Terminator gone, it signaled the Northâs defeat.
The Pontiff didnât stick around. He took his entourage and left. The Dark Citadel made their exit as well, in another direction. The Pontiff was here and Satan was not, so they werenât interested in starting trouble. They knew what kind of man the Pontiff really was, and given half a chance he would destroy them all.
They had been on a razorâs edge, but now the atmosphere cooled. The Avenue delegation could breathe a sigh of relief. The skies overhead brightened anew, which signaled the departure of the Keeper and the Bookworm.
The Arcane Magnateâs voice hung in the air after his figure disappeared. âWeâll wait for you on the airship. Hurry up.â It was also Junâerâs hiding place. They would need to get there quickly to protect her. Those last two words were deliberate.
Lan Jue also heaved a sigh. Thanks to the Pharmacistâs medicines he was recovering, but the fight against Jun Yongye had drained him. Complete recovery would take time. This was a much preferred alternative to fighting.
The Gourmet broke his reverie. âLetâs go. Weâll have to fly there ourselves.â Without regarding the Wine Master, he led them in to the air and toward the air hangar. Only two remained.
The Wine Master and the Epochrion exchanged looks. The old manâs calm face was belied by emotive eyes. They looked pained.
âHave you been alright?â The Epochrion spoke first.
âVery well.â He answered.
The Epochrionâs small voice was almost a whisper. âItâs been a long time. You havenât changed at all.â
A sad smile spread his lips. âJust older. But really it is you who hasnât changed. As young and beautiful as you ever were.â
âYou should go, too,â she quickly interjected. âThe Terminator can calmly deal with a situation, but the military isnât so level-headed. You should be careful, even on the way home.â
A silvery flash sprang out from the Wine Masterâs hand, and the scepter it clutched vanished. âI didnât only come here to protect my people. Iâve had questions on my mind for the last forty-two years, and today Iâm going to get answers. We may never get another chance.â
There was a moment of silence, before the Epochrion looked up at him. âAsk.â
The Wine Master took his time. His hands slowly clenched in to white-knuckled fists. âWhy did you leave? Was it really just a disagreement in philosophy? Did you take our relationship in to account?â
She didnât answer. The Wine Master couldnât hide the emotion from his face any longer.
âMy whole life Iâve only ever loved two things; wine⊠and the Clockmaker.â âHe fought to calm himself, managing to a degree. âThere are a few shops on the Avenue that lie empty. The Horologium, and the photography studio still await the day their owner returns.
There was a clear note of disappointment in her voice. âGo back? Iâm sorry, Wine Master. I know how you feel about me. Thatâs part of the reason I left.â
The Wine Master looked at her, shocked. âBecause of me?â
She sighed. âTime passes so quickly. People think I control it, but do I? I sure donât think so. No one is the master of time, because it cannot be controlled. Forty-two years⊠neither of us are young anymore.
âThereâs a lot I never said for fear of hurting you. But youâre insistent. The truth is, I never loved you. My heart always belonged to someone else, someone who loved my sister instead. I couldnât accept it and left. It wasnât all you, either. You were too good to me, and I couldnât repay you the way you wanted. I felt I had no choice but to go.
âThose disagreements of vision were just an excuse. The real reason was I couldnât stand to face you, or even face myself. Thatâs when I met the Terminator and decided to leave. Perhaps it was the best decision for me, at the time.â
The Wine Master was at a loss for words. He didnât know how convoluted the truth had been â or how cruel.