Four hours.
That was all it took for the charges against Nuan to be dropped. It helped that Ciel had provided his old friend with a coherent script instead of the usual vague, ominous wordings. Mandrake had simply appeared above the panicking officials, declared that an old friend was returning to join his court and presented evidence of Nuan's innocence. The formal appointment, however, would take place tomorrow.
Da Ming was, needless to say, abuzz with activity regarding this mysterious compatriot of the God-Emperor. Yet the man in question felt far from happy with the arrangements.
"Is the ceremony necessary?" Ciel asked Mandrake across the campfire.
"Not particularly," Mandrake admitted, "but the court needs to understand what power you hold. Perhaps you might even take one or two of my daughters to cement—"
"Absolutely not," Ciel stood up. "Look into the mirror, buddy. You are exhibit number one of how much an imperial harem can ruin things."
"Didn't you say you're going to confront Yume and Balor? You can't do it without your Authority, old friend."
"I'll manage."
"But you've already taken in the Curtis girl. What's wrong with taking Nuan and Shuguang?"
The Lord of Union remained steadfast in his refusal. "Shove that offer, Mandrake. But speaking of Curtis," his eyes narrowed, "Xiahana's father contacted you about dealing with Etaceh, right?"
Mandrake massaged his forehead. "Yes," he answered, "and let's say I strongly recommend against setting foot on the Western Continent."
"Never planned to. That witch would already be invincible by now," Ciel stood up and left the firelight. "See you tomorrow, Mandrake. Should I expect any problems from your end?"
"Not when Ming holds my seal," the Emperor said to the retreating shadow. "Are you sure about using—"
"Yeah," said the Lord of Union. "It would be too burdensome to change symbols."
Ciel departed, but he wasn't Mandrake's last visitor that night. A few minutes after his old friend left, two more scheming women paid him a visit.
Morning came as Ming Xuan and Shuguang arrived at the city as Ciel's escort. Their men carried Decimo's dissected corpse to complete the procession. The body, nailed to a plank, sent shockwaves through the city. Da Ming's gates clanged open as crowds gathered to watch this mysterious man's arrival.
The Lord of Union approached, garbed in a glazed gray, long-tailed blazer and fiber-woven innerwear. His steel-tipped boots clinked against the ground as he made his way from the lower-caste district, through the bustling trade quarter, and into the inner city of Da Ming's nobility. Everywhere he went, curious gazes followed.
Xia, her platinum blonde hair tied and new white robe dancing in the winds, tried to remain inconspicuous in the procession. They soon approached the Dragon Palace. Therefrom, Ciel stepped into the gold-painted hall, adorned with phoenixes, like a hero returning to save the empire. He gave a brief, almost imperceptible nod to Mandrake, then nearly performed a double-take at the assembled audience.
The First and Second Prince, still wrecked from their ordeals, stood in attention. Yi Tong's body, wrapped in bandages and encased in a body cast, struggled to stand upright. Beside him, Er Long glared with fury, though in better shape save for his missing arm. All officials behind them regarded Ciel with a mixture of curiosity and apprehension.
"You said Nuan went back early," he whispered to Xia, failing to detect any trace of her in the room.
"She's here, trust me," she replied with a wink.
The royal interpreter cleared his throat. "I have received the missive; according to the God-Emperor, you are—"
Ciel raised his hand and looked at Mandrake, seated behind his golden veil. "May I speak?" he asked.
"You may, my old friend," the Emperor responded before anyone could protest the breach of decorum. They had rehearsed this moment, and neither Lord would allow any interruption or misinterpretation.
"Thank you, my old comrade." Ciel cleared his throat and seized control of the moment. His eyes swept across the assembled court. "I believe you all want to know who I am."
He took a measured step forward. "The answer is simple. Your Emperor and I are fellow comrades. Together we have fought formidable foes." His voice carried weight with each word. "But due to an enemy's action, I was forced into a slumber for several millennia."
He surveyed the room, letting the revelation sink in. Only then did he continue, "Fortunately, my old comrade, Mandrake, found me when I woke." A slight smile played on his lips. "He asked me to conduct investigations he could not: a stress test against crises our enemies sought to plunge this peaceful land into."
Mandrake then spoke, his deep, mysterious facade taking the room by surprise and misguide awe. "What is your verdict then, Ciel of the Lord?"
"Epic bloody failure," his answer struck the room with the weight of iron.
Ming Xuan and Shuguang, who knew the plan from the start, winced imperceptibly in the eyes. They had to admit the two men's expertise in deception had reached an unrivaled height. Both hadn't slept a wink last night, perplexed by this strange reality, bullied by shame and hindsight.
Ciel ignored his co-conspirators, who sported sleepless bags under their eyes like raccoons. He pressed on, each word coated in a disappointed veneer.
"Originally, the plan was to observe how you dealt with the crises caused by the Blackwing," he explained, adding extra detail to the half-truth. "Therefore, we used our battle with these terrorists as an opportunity to assess your response. My expectations were admittedly low, seeing the poor state of the people and the lacking road defenses of this empire."
He paused to further compound his next verdict. And what a verdict it was: "Yet you all, somehow, have performed worse than my expectations: Nuan Yulong, framed within days; Blackwing easily recruited most of you for their dirty work; and, last but not least, the First and Second Princes hindered each other more than they helped the Third Prince. What in the name of the Void is this?"
A gulping sound echoed through the hall as men, both courageous and cowardly, swallowed down dread that tasted as sour as acid. A tense silence filled the hall as Yi Tong and Er Long tried to maintain stoic expressions. None of the men dared blink.
Ciel then rested his case: "We need to clean the house. The Blackwing activity must be dealt with, and the Yulong Empire's people and their strength must be empowered. That is my conclusion."
"Very well," the Emperor's voice echoed. "Ming Xuan, unseal and read my missive."
Ming Xuan came forward with a scroll written by Mandrake at Ciel's behest and given to him in secret to avoid official meddling. He scanned the document, eyebrows scrunching at certain parts, but proceeded without delay:
"By words of the Emperor of Yulong, Ciel Lord shall be appointed as Grand Marshal. His authority shall be superseded by none but the Emperor himself. Under the sigils of the Five Petal Flower, the Office of the Grand Marshal shall be responsible for reformation of the Empire and restoration of its public virtue and order. He shall cleanse the corruption of terrorists and heretics, and oversee our battle against hostile actors meant to threaten our livelihood and tradition."
Ciel nodded, making a silent smile of satisfaction. The platinum-blonde woman behind him smirked, knowing her plan was about to launch.
The jade doors of the Dragon Palace swung open. A maiden emerged in a red fitted dress that blended various features: high waistline, snug bodice, mandarin collar, and a side slit down its length. She flowed into the golden hall. Her draping embroidered silhouette of translucent yellow trailed behind, highlighting her shapely form and newly styled hair with nature's perfect craftsmanship. Her long orange sleeves hid fidgeting fingers, but not the hunger in her golden eyes.
The entire court recognized this visitor. Ciel, eyes widened, realized a scheme had been sprung against him. He spun to the likeliest culprit.
Xia waved at him, smiling with glee as the Third Prince put her checkmate into words:
"To give the Grand Marshal more legitimacy and connection to the Dragon Palace, I, Mandrake, the God-Emperor of Yulong, shall wed him my daughter, whose name he has cleared. For it is our way to faithfully repay a life debt to the benefactor. Let it be known General Nuan Yulong, the Massacre Princess, shall retire from the frontline and attend to her husband as his confidant. Thereafter let her be titled as the Marshal's Dragon."
"Wait—" Ciel protested, but the situation only worsened.
"Hereby, we accepted this offer from the Marshal's fiancée, Princess Xiahana La Louve of Curtis, who came to seek our aid against the unjust assassination of our dear friend Richard La Louve. In promise for her full cooperation and oath of sisterhood with my daughter, the Yulong Empire openly condemns King Richard’s assassins. We will work to bring his murderer to justice under our new Marshal's name."
The Lord of Union looked at the God-Emperor sitting on the throne. He could swear Mandrake had given him a thumbs-up behind the veil. He cursed himself; he should have known better.
Those two must have approached that idiot last night and pitched this idea, maybe even guilt-tripping the dragon into helping. Ciel had underestimated them all. Nuan was more determined than expected. Meanwhile, Mandrake had enough survival instinct to increase the number of Celestial Brides as much as possible before their confrontation with Yume. He, also may or may not, have wanted to drag his old friend down to suffer in this hell of women's problems.
The problem was Xia. Getting revenge for her father was one thing, but why did she decide to share her man like this?
Ciel, pondering that mental question, found his answer in the First Bride's look of relief. She must have deduced there were more battles to come. He recalled how many beatings she had taken on this adventure. The Princess of White surely knew she would be stuck fighting these battles alone if nothing changed, and thus decided to forgo her position as sole wife for survivability and convenience.
"Dammit—" Ciel muttered, but before he could find an escape, Nuan reached him.
She met his eyes and whispered, "Got you."
Nuan Yulong leaned in and clasped her mouth around his. A channel of energy connected them, and Nuan nearly lost herself in the ecstasy of euphoria as she latched onto Ciel, who had no energy left to resist.
Ming Xuan finally closed the page on the history book alongside his slack-jawed sister: "With this kiss, let the Court of the Grand Marshal, my brother, be brought into existence. For the glory of the Yulong Empire."
"For the Glory of the Yulong Empire!" the court chanted.
Xia joined the chorus, but with mischievous mirth as she watched her husband struggle to pry himself from her newest sworn-sister.
On that day, the Second Bride was born.