Fay clawed at her own hair and tried to think with the clock on her throat.

Words would be a rope or a noose. Radeon wanted the right ones. He always did.

"Five," he said.

Her mouth went dry. She knew, the answer was not comfort. It was not excuses. It was truth.

"Four."

"Master," she blurted, her voice cracking. "I, I wanted to hold on to what we had. I dreamt of you each day. And when you cast me out there, I, I felt betrayed," she said, weeping, certain of her hurt.

She paused, heart beating too loud in her ears.

"I." Her tongue stumbled. "I was there for almost a year. I would not dare lie to you again, not even by a single word. May Heaven strike me down if I deceive you, or scheme, or harbor ill intent toward you. Just please. Don't take this away from me."

Radeon watched her plead the way men watched a condemned neck search for mercy. He did not flinch at her oath.

He would not have spoken it himself. He knew too well what heaven was. A machine, exploitable, bribable, full of gears that could be forced to turn.

Even so, he felt it. A subtle surge. Luck stirring, as if the world itself had taken note of her promise and shifted a fraction in his favor.

For an emperor like him, punishment was not an emotion. It was a due. A debt collected.

"I'll let it go. But you're under me now as a slave. Refuse, and we're done. Right here."

Fay did not hesitate. Panic made her fast, but hunger made her faster.

"Yes, Master. This disciple agrees," she said, lowering her gaze. "My tongue is crude."

The words tumbled out too eager. In her mind it was not only survival. It was an opportunity.

A door half open. No one would close it on her again.

Her thoughts slid somewhere darker, softer, and shamefully warm. Nights. His attention. The use of her.

"Fay." Radeon's voice snapped the leash.

Radeon felt the turn in her. That quick bloom of lust. It was predictable, almost boring.

"Take care of your needs regularly," he said. "Not once. Ongoing. If you need a moment each day, handle it. Quietly."

Heat rushed to her face. Fay accepted it because she had already been stripped down to honesty.

Dirty. The word clung to her. Radeon had said it was only her body, and bodies demanded their small obedience.

Then he cut through before her mind could wander into filth again.

"What I'd appreciate is you prioritize cultivation. Don't neglect your needs, but don't let them run you like this again."

"Yes, Master. This disciple will do it. You have my word."

He could not blame her. She was young. Worse, she was full of vitality now, swollen with the early gains of cultivation.

He could alter her nerves in secret and make this problem smaller, but then she would never learn what she needed most.

Control that came from her, not from his hand.

"Let's go," Radeon said, already turning.

Fay followed close. She caught the scent of his hair as it fluttered with his movement. Clean and manly.

She stored it in her mind like a thief sneaking the bread away.

He gave her no more words. His mind had shifted to methods. Buddhist ways.

Old work from an old friend, Ksitigarbha, a sutra written by his own hand after conquering hell. Radeon did not pray. He used.

He began to speak under his breath, each syllable placed like a step.

"By this merit, may all spirits be liberated from suffering and attain happiness."

His visage changed. The air around him seemed to harden into clarity.

The Tiyanak hissed. Ghost lurers wearing infant shapes. They scattered from his light at first, but they did not burn.

Their hunger did not flare. It softened, soothed like a dog hearing its master. They followed instead.

From a distance at first. Ten became hundreds. Hundreds became almost a thousand, padding behind him in a shifting mass, curious and quiet.

Fay felt the calm wash over her too. It was gentle, like warm water on a bruised hand.

Yet the sight behind him still made her shiver. Just one of those things had nearly taken her life.

They came to a wider passage, near enough to a chamber. Empty.

The massive group of Tiyanak poured in after them, crowding the mouth of the place as if eager to watch what Radeon would do next.

He lifted his chin and began the chant again, louder now, and the words carried through stone.

"Om. I dare say my heart is clear, and intention pure. Ghosts are living beings. Mind unmuddied. Teeth not made to enact violence."

Radeon did not stop chanting. His voice kept the same calm cadence. His hands did not idle either.

Tiyanak crowded close. He brushed them aside in groups, not striking, not flinging.

Radeon moved them the way a farmer tossed an empty sack by the roadside, uncaring, firm, and at ease. They tumbled and crawled to the far side.

The cavern walls came into clearer view. Radeon's eyes caught the first mark.

Sword slashes. A meter deep. Fresh. The moisture in the air had not yet softened the cut with moss or slime.

The stone still looked raw where it had been opened.

He shifted, chanting without a hitch, and swept another cluster of Tiyanak away.

A ripped bag lay there, torn as if something had grabbed and pulled until the seams gave up.

Inside, four Explosive Talismans still sat intact, edges crisp, ink not yet bled by damp.

Radeon plucked the bag up and tossed it to Fay.

"Hold onto it," he said.

Fay caught it with both hands. It felt like holding someone else's last chance.

Then they went deeper into the darkness.

With each step the scars of battle thickened. Gouges. Cracked stone.

Radeon could feel the lingering qi, not one imprint but many, layered and frayed.

The residue prickled at his senses. Recent. Violent. Unfinished.

They walked slowly, minutes stretching long. Fay matched his pace, talismans pressed to her waist, ready at a moment's notice.

Then the shape appeared ahead.

A large wooden stake rose from the ground, too deliberate to be a natural splinter.

It stood crooked, planted as if someone had meant to pin something there.

Radeon lifted a hand. Fay stopped at once.

"Stay alert," he sent through silent qi, the warning slipping into her mind without sound.

He did not advance straight toward it. His feet began to shuffle backward, retreating.

His chant continued, unwavering, and the Tiyanak behind them moved with it, drifting, gathering, keeping their strange quiet.

Fay followed his retreat, eyes fixed past the stake. She did not ask why. Her feet only followed.

A sudden inhale pulled at the air.

Something drew breath behind the wood. The stake shuddered as if pushed from the far side.

A bump swelled in the darkness behind it. Then a face eased out.

Huge. Too close. Eyes bulging. A tongue uncoiled, long as its body, dragging over stone like a living rope.

"Master," Fay whispered, fear raising gooseflesh along her arms. "Wh-what is that?"

"Preta," Radeon answered.

Hungry ghost. It moved when they moved, tracking their steps with that obscene tongue and those staring eyes.

One clawed hand slid out and clutched the stake as if it needed the wood to keep itself from rushing them.

Radeon's chanting did not change.

"Fay," he sent. "If I tell you to run. Burst everything you've got."

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