Chapter 21.2:【Tales of Fire and Ice】
The Arena
Tsukuyomi gripped his sword firmly in hand. He looked forward at his foe, allowing the audience he knew was watching, the words he knew they were saying, the arena itself, to all simply fade away into the darkness. Right now, to him, the only things shining in the night were he and his foe. Nothing else mattered, not even the past and future. He gave himself a quiet, bitter, yet lighthearted laugh, and shook his head with a slight smile. The scabbard had cracked. And yet, once the shock had worn off, it now seemed so incredibly trivial.
“...What have I been doing? I can’t believe I paralyzed myself for so long. Even after I met Mother, even after that day, I was just making excuses to be a coward. To never truly fight. But they all…wanted me to just do my best, didn’t they? They wanted me to fight just like that woman does. If so…”
He had fallen countless times. Won many victories. But before today, how many of those battles had he really given his everything to? He regretted every single one of them in hindsight. But now, the god of the moon brandished his sword with a determined light in his eyes.
“...Then that’s the only expectation I need to fulfill!”
He looked Zetian right in the eyes as he replied to her. His voice was as unwavering as his blade.
“Indeed. My father taught me so much. So did my mother. They are truly incredible. I’ve been…such a fool for not listening to them until now.”
Wu stood before him in silence. A blank look distorted her face for a second, as a sense of regretful jealousy almost took over, before the strength of her glare and stance returned twice as strong. Her presence was now like that of a ferocious dragon.
“Hah…how very lucky you are. To have someone at your side to raise you up like that. You’ll never understand what it means to fight truly alone.”
“W-W-W-WAIT A SECOND!” The distressed voice of Mammon pierced the ears of the fighters. “You should not be able to return to sanity! It's not possi-” “SHUT UP! No one has the right to decide what I can and can’t do, you hear me!?” The Empress barked out a command for all to hear, a symphony of the rage and frustration she obtained throughout her life.
Luoyang, Henan Province
It was nothing new, really.
Spears and swords surrounded her on all ends. Eyes that threatened to burn right through her soul- hollower than usual, but intending to kill nonetheless. The roaring and desperate sounds of battle raging around her. Once again, a blade was pointed at her rise to the throne, and once again, Zetian would fight with all she had to defend it.
Even against her own men.
The devilish talismans around the soldiers’ necks glowed with an eerie purple light, illuminating the bloody Luoyang streets below them. Zetian had ordered them locked away upon their discovery, but clearly, at least one of her ministers was less than trustworthy. A shame. Pushing all thoughts of future executions to the side, she looked upon her gathered allies turned foes, already braced for lethal combat. Her eyes narrowed as their leader stepped forward: a nobleman clad not in his usual fine robes, but regal battle armor, clearly prepared for this very day. A more ornate talisman that surged with dark power hung from his neck. Li Zhen, the Prefect of Yu, regarded Zetian with the same sneering smirk he had always worn around her.
The brother of the late Gaozong, and a young prodigy of the Li Clan, Zhen had opposed her from the beginning, almost obsessively so. As if being in her presence and seeing her rise was a reality he could simply reject. Even as the other clans and officials of China fell before her, acknowledging what she had become, Zhen and the Li Clan remained stalwart in their defiance. To Zetian, their eyes burned more than anyone else’s- Zhen’s insults, beatings, and even the cold silence he regarded her with were seared into her mind. It was almost preordained in the heavens that he would be her final obstacle.
“My greetings, Empress Dowager! I must offer my humblest apologies! After all, it’s a shame you’d be struck down like this, when you’re so close to the finish line.” Zhen laughed coldly. He drew his sword from his waist and stepped forth, before gesturing to the soldiers with pride as they all followed at his command. “You’ve slain so many of us Li without even batting an eye…but can you do the same to your own royal guard? That one’s been with you for thirty years, I believe, and that one twenty-five. Such loyal soldiers they are!” He laughed mockingly and patted the soldier next to him on the shoulder.
“...Of course I can.”
Zetian’s reply was clear and sharp, lacking the honeyed arrogance she had grown into over the years. Li Zhen raised an eyebrow. The burning in her eyes hadn’t even flickered a bit. He had wanted to snuff it out, but now, even making it waver seemed like a heavenly task.
“Then come try it, Wu Zetian! Show me what made a subhuman like you into an empress!” He laughed and stepped away, behind a wall of Zetian’s most loyal and powerful soldiers. Without warning, they all attacked at once.
She didn’t even hesitate.
In but a single minute, without a hint of mercy or pause, Wu Zetian slaughtered the elite guard she had cultivated with her own two hands. The deaths were swift and brutal. These loyal warriors, perhaps even companions, were now merely the same as the fallen Li soldiers that littered the streets. But perhaps that kind of death was a mercy in itself. The talismans leeched at the very soul to empower their victims, and agonizingly drove both mind and body to death- so Zetian killed them quickly. It was most efficient to end them before they could grow more powerful. Yes, that was why.
“...Well done!” Zhen remarked. The blood shed by Zetian had begun to pool at his feet. Awe was visible on his face, a horrified form of delight, as he slowly began to smile. It was an expression fit for the descent of a god. Zetian paused with an almost incredulous expression.
“It’s a bit too late for that, isn’t it, Li Zhen?”
“On the contrary…this is the moment I’ve been waiting for. Finally, you’ve bloomed into a flower that Gaozong would be proud of!” Zhen’s smile was now jolly, the sneer he had worn for decades all but gone. He spread his arms wide in a grand gesture and laughed. Zetian remained silent, almost daring him to speak further. The Prefect of Yu happily obliged.
“I knew from the very beginning that you had the drive to claw your way to the top. Those pitiful princes, ministers, prefects, and dukes…they languish in their role, blinded by the comfort of their titles. They lack the fire that a ruler needs, the cold blood of those born in hell. Only someone like you, who knows what it means to truly rise, could be worthy of the throne!”
“...And that’s why the Li Clan never gave me my due respect, eh?” Zetian cocked her head back. The ever-present flame in her eyes was almost cold.
Zhen nodded in glee. “But of course! If a woman were to rule at Gaozong’s side, or any of ours, we would accept only the finest. And you, dear Zetian, have become something beyond my wildest dreams.” He approached her as his grin turned manic. “A mind, body, and soul of finest steel…yes! That carnage just now proves it! You are the only one who can be my empress!”
“You expect me to join you?”
“The Li Clan remains mighty, despite your actions against us. We are your only true opposition. If we join hands, my empress, heaven and earth shall be ours to rule! So thank you, truly…for meeting my expectations.” Li Zhen’s eyes softened further now, his smile almost fatherly. Zetian had almost forgotten what such a smile looked like, even if Zhen’s was one with venom behind it. It was a warm venom. One she was nearly tempted to crave.
It was a pity she would have to destroy it too.
Zetian clenched her fists, steeling herself. And then she spoke. “My rise, my rule, what I’ve done then and today…not a single moment of it was for you, or anyone else. This power is mine and mine alone. For all your talk about the throne, Li Zhen…you’ve forgotten the most important thing of all.”
“Oh?”
“That there can only be one ruler.” She lunged directly at Zhen, just as coldly as she had done her own soldiers. As if his words had truly meant nothing to her.
Li Zhen had always been a prodigy. A genius of politics and war, of swordplay, and even of martial arts, which he had turned to out of sheer boredom. For his entire life, he had wanted nothing more than an equal. He prayed fervently that some twist of fate would place Zetian by his side. Not Gaozong’s or anyone else’s. A one-on-one fight with her was, truly, the culmination of that dream. But as Zetian parried, dodged, and blocked every single one of his blows, as if he were but a child with a stick, striking back over and over with force that shattered his armor and bones, the prodigy of the Li Clan realized that he had made a fatal mistake.
Wu Zetian was not his equal, and hadn’t been for a long time now. Perhaps she never even was. She had not simply met expectations- she had unquestionably surpassed them all.
BLACK TORTOISE’S SHELL
His strongest all-or-nothing strike didn’t move her an inch.
VERMILLION BIRD’S FLIGHT
Before he could even begin to follow up with a swing to her throat, she disappeared from sight. He turned around far too late. She was lunging for him.
DRAGON’S MIGHT
Zhen opened his mouth to choke out what he knew would be his final words. But faced with the wildfire burning in Zetian’s visage, with the bestial, almost hungering way she was now moving, what could he even say? It was only now that Li Zhen began to fathom what he had created.
WHITE TIGER’S CLAW
“Have we given rise to an empress, or a demon-”
Zetian’s whole body moved in a brutal downwards arc. The claw of a monster swept right through Zhen’s body, devastating it, tearing muscle and shattering bone, the armored, empowered prodigy little more than the weakest of peasants before its might. His life ended before he could even process his last, horrified thoughts.
Zhen’s corpse dropped to the floor in two. And next to it, with no one to see them in this secluded corner of Luoyang, as the battle began to die down, Wu Zetian simply looked upon her nemesis’ corpse, overcome by a hollow catharsis, the flame in her eyes now burning coldly. That last warm smile was something she had fought for decades to see, even if she herself had forgotten why. Yet it was unable to move her. Could she even move her own heart, at this point?
She had now slain Li Zhen with her own two hands. Her armies had already crushed many of the Li, and would end the rest of them soon. Zetian had conquered all possible opposition. But even as she stood atop a mountain of corpses and destroyed expectations, all those scornful eyes now looking towards her with reverence…she still felt that same empty, terrified hunger once the fearless rush of victory had passed. The hunger of a pitiful peasant girl destined for an unnamed and shallow grave. Even the throne wasn’t enough, nowhere near enough. She still wasn’t enough. She still had to prove herself more. Li Zhen and countless more had died, but their ghosts would gaze upon her forever.
The peak of the mountain was still a lonely place.
But even if it was lonely, it was safe for now. Neither blades or words, pointed towards her at all times, could even begin to reach her from where she stood. That was why Zetian had to keep climbing higher. All doubt and fear had to be banished. If she showed her constant hesitation, if any part of her was weak, then she’d fall in an instant, all the way back to the hell that lay below the earth. Back to the girl she used to be, and refused to admit she still was. To stay on the throne of heaven…Wu Zetian had to live as a devil.
Thus, Zetian remained standing. Not a single tear fell, and not a single tremor ran through her body. Whether it led to heaven or hell, she would continue walking the lonely path of an empress, paved with the corpses of friends and foes. She had no choice but to. Without hesitation, she ran to the raging battle ahead, not sparing a single moment of goodbye or prayer for her closest comrades. They had sacrificed themselves for a cold and ruthless empress, a ruler who would make China as strong as herself, and she intended to honor that.
Her country, her world, would never even begin to crumble. She would make sure of it. An empress never faltered, and an empress never relied on others. Even if the warmth- no, the absolute power she sought was impossibly distant, and fleeting in her grasp…she would chase it forever.
Even if she had to chase it all the way to the heavens.
The Arena
Zetian glared back at Tsukuyomi, her composure unshaken, but a burning, primal desire to conquer in her eyes. The moon god’s resolve remained unshaken. If anything, his face only softened with pity. But it seemed as if it was a battle to remain resolute, as if Zetian’s eyes were imposing her dominant will on the heavens themselves- it was as if Tsukuyomi was looking towards the peak of some unfathomable, treacherous mountain, and the dragon that reigned there as its ruler.
“The desperation of having nothing at all is what breeds the greatest hunger for power.” Solomon mused, a cool smile on his face. “And when one with such a craving actually reaches the heights that they seek, nothing in heaven and earth can stop them.”
“Wait, that makes no sense!” Legion interjected. “So she can control Demon Mind because…”
“Indeed. Wu Zetian has always been a human with the ‘greed’ of a demon. Perhaps even beyond one. That is her path as an iron empress, unchallenged by any in China. Only someone like her, one with an ‘ego’ that burns like an infernal flame, could ever harness Mammon to this extent…” His confident smile unwavering, Solomon turned his attention back to the arena.
“...You must have suffered greatl-” Tsukuyomi began.
“You shut up too, you patronizing asshole! As if I would care about the validation of those stuck up bastards, or even oh-so-almighty gods like you.” Tsukuyomi’s attempt at consolation was shut down by the ravings of Wu Zetian. Her words resonated with the moon god, the fiery glare she met him with shaking him to his core. She took a step forward and spread her arms, a grin and snarl simultaneously on her face as she continues.
“From the beginning, my throne has been mine and mine alone. I’ve fought, bled, and killed for no one except me, I clawed my way to the peak with my own two hands! And I’ll crush anything that wants to take that from me- I don’t care if it’s the heavens themselves! For I am…the Empress of China!”
A familiar figure in the audience smirked gleefully. “Wonderful! Show them the dragon’s fire that consumed all of China! Show them everything you are, my Empress!” Li Zhen roared out pridefully, the rest of the Li Clan with him. Their stands were surrounded by many of Zetian’s other fallen foes, watching intently. Li Jingye, Empress Wang, Sun Wanrong- regardless of their feelings, they all stood firm in their support, placing their faith in the one who had unquestionably crushed them all.
It didn’t matter what she had done to them, at least, not here and now. Zetian’s might was the single, immutable truth uniting them, a grand temple that had been built upon all their corpses. And they would uphold that embodiment of their China until the very end. As the Empress returned to her fearsome martial stance, firm as iron yet ready to rage like a flame, Tsukuyomi steeled himself and took a breath.
‘She does not have her demonic form activated…This is my chance! It’s now or never!’ He grasped his damaged haori in his hand and slung it towards Wu. The Empress was surprised with the newfound courage of Tsukuyomi, yet prepared herself all the same. It took only a single swipe of ‘Tiger Claw’ to shred the haori into pieces, but the brief distraction was enough for Tsukuyomi to reach her. His sword flashed through the air towards her leg, forcing the Empress to jump up with a feral glint in her eyes. He looked up, knowing just what to do next- but the brief moment of pause he gave before doing it was more than enough. Zetian lunged forth and swung, landing a palm strike to his ribs, and very nearly taking his head off with a turning kick, still grazing his cheek even as he ducked away. Tsukuyomi stepped back, grimacing but resolute as Zetian rushed at him once more.
“Don’t you dare hesitate like that again, boy!~”
“...You’re right! No more regrets!”
As he swung to intercept her, Zetian batted his blade down to the god’s side and closed in on the opening before Tsukuyomi. However, the young god steeled himself. It was just as he had planned- the creation of a second chance to execute that maneuver. Without hesitation, Tsukuyomi spat the blood pooling in his mouth into the eyes of his monstrous opponent.
“I can… NO! I WILL WIN!” He declared to the heavens, to the tune of a demented snigger from his opponent, before bringing the blade to her neck. A beheading fit for royalty. Yet, the Empress’ demonic eyes flashed open through the blood, and his blade was stopped firmly by her palm. Zetian diverted it to the side with a manic expression.
“What the..? Wait. Her pupils changed?!” Shock and horror palpated in Tsukuyomi’s brain as he realized that the demon mind had once again brought Zetian into her demonic state.
In the stands, Solomon laughed to himself as he observed the battle below. “It would appear that greed is truly the quality of a dragon, and you have achieved the pinnacle of it….well done Wu Zetian~”
“Oh my. So this is the ‘hunger’ that made her such a mighty empress…” Amaterasu mused to herself. Izanagi was now sweating slightly, his arm trembling in rage.
Mammon, meanwhile, was quivering, too shocked to even speak. Just what kind of relentless beast had Solomon bound him to? The demon, who walked through hell itself without a hint of fear, now felt as if he was in the presence of a monster.
Wu positioned herself in the same stance she had performed her White Tiger Assault in, before firing herself precariously towards the panicked God. Tsukuyomi’s eyes widened. He was too slow to dodge. He didn’t have enough momentum to parry. He couldn’t guard, or he’d be crushed under the blow’s pure power. Every option began to fade away in his mind, the Tsukuyomis of every possibility crushed by their foe…
Except the one he had finally found confidence in. The only way to advance was to move forward. Even if it was just this once, for a single strike and the rest of the battle afterwards, he was done hesitating. Here and now, he could go all out. He rushed forward, his blade surging with light.
This was the final stage of the self-mastery he had cultivated. At the end of the path of moonlight, the thousands of victories and twice as many failures forming it…simply stopped existing. The only truth remaining was this moment. To master one’s self meant to put one’s present self, all that they knew they were, into every single swing. And after so many years, Tsukuyomi’s blade and heart had finally become one shining light.
WHITE TIGER’S ASSAULT
PERPETUAL MOON CYCLE: HALF MOON
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Tsukuyomi raised his blade up high, and sent it cascading down like a waterfall of pure surging moonlight, almost meteoric in its descent as radiant power wildly trailed behind it. At the same time, Zetian’s raging, hungering claw of a hand shot upwards in that same bloodthirsty arc of destruction.
“Oh my.” Thoth gasped. “Their power is beginning to approach that of Lucifer himself!”
“This is gonna be bloody.” Crowley cackled, gently rubbing his hands together.
“Yes! Crush that boy, Empress!” Li Zhen yelled. Both his fists were clenched in anticipation.
“...G…GO FOR IT, TSUKUYOMI!” cried out Izanami, raising one fist and nearly standing up from her chair.
It was a clash of pure unwavering will. Hell’s raw tenacity and heaven’s steeled resolve met in the form of a fist and blade, the flesh and light that burned in their hearts trying to consume the other entirely, the blast of their collision a passionate roar towards the sky.
“I won’t lose!” Tsukuyomi declared, tightening his grip and clenching his teeth.
“Eat shit!” Wu snarled, the grin on her face almost hungering.
With one last shout from both sides, as they poured all that blazed in their souls into the clash, it ended in a single, explosive instant. Tsukuyomi was blown away along with his sword, and tumbled across the arena floor, as Zetian was forced backwards in a burst of blinding moonlight, hissing in pain and nearly falling over- but standing her ground nonetheless as she dug one foot into the ground behind her.
Gaozong breathed a sigh of relief from his seat. Qin and the Li clan nearby, meanwhile, let out an invigorated cheer. “What a clash!” said the First Emperor with a grin. “Just a little more, and victory will be hers to seize!”
On the other side of the arena, Izanami yelped a bit, clutching Lucifer’s hand briefly. Tsukuyomi’s siblings looked on with concern, but not fear. Everyone in the room knew Tsukuyomi still wasn’t done. But just how much more did he have left to give?
“Tsukuyomi…damnit…” Metatron muttered, adjusting his glasses anxiously. Michael remained watching, his smile unusually firm as he spoke.
“Worry not, brother. His soul is still far from exhausted. And as his family, it’s our duty to watch until the very end…and to believe in him more than anyone else can!”
“...son of a bitch…” Wu mumbled to herself, observing the deep, frostbitten cut that had torn at her fingers. Small drops of blood seeped down and pooled below her, yet she stood tall and defiant. The blade had shattered upon impact and the claws had crippled Tsukuyomi to his knees…
“At least you died like a warrior, I will give you that mu-”
“I’m…not...done…yet…” The croaky voice of Tsukuyomi beckoned in her ears. Alarm and confusion arose, as Zetian watched the feeble god lift himself up with an empty, half-dead look on his face, yet determination in his eyes. ‘When did he become so persistent? I have crushed him time and time again, destroyed his blade and stolen his pride…From where does he draw strength?!”
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Tsukuyomi looked down and noticed the blood that swam below him. ‘Am I dying? No…I can’t die yet…I don’t want to die…I suppose father, mother, and Michael would want me to live… Right…? I must try that, right father? This forbidden technique…’
The broken blade glowed before him as he exhaled a frigid air. Blood was coughed onto the ground, yet froze upon meeting his mist-like breath. His arm, covered in blood, cracked and began to tremble as it was now coated in shards of ice.
Wu looked towards him carefully, “I don’t like this at all.” Her instincts were raging at her. Primal instincts of the first of mankind suffering an age of ice, the opposite to their glorious fire, that killed all indiscriminately.
“I am sorry that you must experience this, Lady Zetian…It is a horrid power…Forgive me”
As Zeitan assumed a defensive stance, Tsukuyomi brought his blade before him, a fragile look in his posture.
“Tsuku…Yomi…!” Lucifer’s eyes widened, in a way they hadn’t since his earlier match. “Son… You truly… Have grown up…” His quiet voice held a mixture of realization, pride…but also a hint of anxiety, one of the emotions he discarded long ago. Metatron remained silent, sweat pouring down his brow, as Hanuel’s eyes widened next to him.
“He can’t be…!” Hanuel muttered. “Just what is he doing!?”
“Ahhh, Tsu-chan is about to do something splendid~ I wonder~ How will Wu-chan manage?” Dionysus' relaxed voice didn’t exactly match his eyes burning with passion and excitement.
“HA! What the fuck is he gonna do now?” Moros chanted, his eyes enchanted with excitement, his fingers burying into his hands as he awaited Tsukuyomi’s move.
“Hooh boy. I’m beginning to feel what I felt back in the center of the Hurikan again.” Da Vinci thought to himself in the infirmary, still in too much pain to speak.
Izanagi watched with a snarl, taking a deep breath of frustration at what he believed was Tsukuyomi’s incompetence. Amaterasu simply continued to watch unperturbed, an interested twinkle in her eyes. She turned to the sword-wielding god nearby and spoke with her head tilted curiously.
“Oh, Mikazuchi. Isn’t he doing the same thing as you? Or is it another one of his father’s techniques…” Amaterasu’s words were light, almost teasing. The masked god shook her head and crossed her arms as she replied with a sigh.
“Of course not. Every ‘sword’ in the world is different. Whatever he’s about to do…is something that only he can pull off.”
“This is your final test Zetian, will you manage to overcome your final obstacle, prove to everyone who ever doubted you, how wrong they were…Or fall trying” Even the ever-so collected Solomon had his full attention on the fight.
“Oh? No matter…whatever that brat god tries, our empress can overcome it! Isn’t that right?!” Li Zhen shouted. A confident smile was on his face as the cheers of his clan erupted around him, Gaozong watching intently nearby.
“Well gods, angels and men!” Thoth announced triumphantly. “Prepare yourselves, because the climax of the battle starts here!”
“Please, Tsukuyomi…win and come home.” Izanami’s voice was strangely calm, her hands clasped together as if praying. All her anxiety and confidence towards her son seemed to have vanished together, leaving only the nothingness of what was to come.
He twisted his grip on the handle, pointing the tip of the glimmering moonlight at himself. He took a deep breath before plunging it deep inside him, twisting the blade in his guts.
“The fu-!!!” Wu was startled by his suicidal display, before realising the temperature had dropped far below its former warmth. She looked to the ground and only barely avoided the expanding permafrost that encased the castle. Had she not jumped, she would have surely been trapped.
The blood that dropped from his back shot out with the thrust of the sword, yet seemed to freeze instantly. Their chilled form intensified, and became reminiscent of the wings of an angel.
The frozen wings of glimmering ice, the coming of Fimbulvetr…