Han Min had Sein by the neck, rendering her helpless. There was no cloth to shield herself. Her powers were utterly useless.
She did not kick or claw at his hands anymore. She merely dangled, suspended in mid-air. As her final thoughts rested on the man she loved, something shifted within her.
After everything she had endured, and all Zeya had suffered these past five years, she was not willing to let go of life so easily.
Not this time.
Whatever thread of hope remained, she clung to it desperately. And just as darkness threatened to shroud her mind entirely, she heard a commanding voice.
"Take your filthy hands off my wife."
Sein's heart lurched. It was Zeya.
The sound of that voice sent a jolt through her body, purpose flooding her heart as energy surged through her veins.
What foolishness had clouded her mind?
He came for her.
She realised, in that moment, she had fallen foul of Han Min's trap of self-worth. That was how she had ended up in his grip.
Han Min immediately released Sein as though caught in the act, his eyes wide as he turned to face Zeya.
The sight of Sein lying on the floor caused Zeya to momentarily lose his focus. He quickly calmed his mind with a slow breath, determined to do what was necessary to save her.
Was he too late?
Not certain whether Sein was still alive, he stepped forward and drew his sword.
"Get away from Sein!" he ordered.
Han Min moved past Sein's body and approached him.
"How are you here?" he asked with a frown. "What has your mother done?"
Zeya ignored his questions and instead swept his gaze across their surroundings. The Spirit Realm was undeniably disorientating. Nothing appeared entirely solid, yet some unseen force still held the world together beneath his feet.
"Why are you here, Zeya?" Han Min's voice snapped his attention back to him.
Zeya gazed at the man, or rather, the supreme spirit, who stood with a calm, almost friendly expression as though nothing had changed. His heart hardened. This was not his beloved uncle. This was Spirit of Prosperity, the very being that had taken Sein from him.
The betrayal cut deep, sowing a poisonous seed of resentment in his heart.
Without a word, Zeya charged, raising his blade to strike. Han Min swiftly sidestepped, the attack slicing through empty air.
"Really, is this absolutely necessary?" Han Min asked, holding out his right hand.
A beam of light flared towards him, and a magnificent sword materialised. Han Min seized the intricate hilt, settling into a defensive stance. The blade shimmered, both translucent and solid, a spiritual weapon.
Zeya lunged forward with a thrust, baiting Han Min into reacting. Han Min answered with a counter-slash aimed low at his inner thigh. Zeya deflected it, using the movement to reposition for another thrust, but Han Min was always one step ahead.
Every brilliant assault Zeya conceived was met with Han Min's solid defence.
"I have taught you everything you know," Han Min said. "I know all your moves. I can read you like a book."
Undeterred, Zeya pressed on with his attack, fuelled by anger and hurt.
"You cannot win, Zeya," Han Min warned, deflecting Zeya's blade effortlessly. "Do stop all this nonsense. There is no reason for it. Leave this girl and return to the mortal realm."
"I shall never leave my wife," Zeya declared.
"Wife, indeed!" Han Min snapped as he stepped inside Zeya's guard with a precise thrust. "Do not fool yourself, boy."
Zeya gave no ground, angling his body just enough for the blade to miss him, then turning the pressure back on Han Min with a swift counter.
"I'm not deluding myself," Zeya responded in a measured tone. "Sein and I are married with the blessing of Spirit of Love and Marriage."
Han Min hesitated for the briefest moment, Zeya's words breaking the rhythm of their clash. Zeya seized the opening immediately, shifting his stance to utilise the techniques he had learnt from Thura. With a more aggressive rhythm, he surged forward, forcing Han Min onto the defensive.
Han Min arched an eyebrow. Zeya knew at once he had baited him.
As Han Min thrust forward with a stab, Zeya shifted aside instead of blocking. His blade circled around Han Min's weapon as he moved, turning the evasion into an immediate counterattack.
Not anticipating this, Han Min left himself wide open, and Zeya's blade cut into his side beneath the arm, carving deep through fabric and flesh.
Zeya expected him to stagger.
Instead, Han Min looked mildly annoyed. He glanced down at the cut in his jacket, inspecting the torn cloth as though it were nothing.
There was no blood.
Zeya's eyes narrowed. Something was wrong. That strike should have landed.
Han Min exhaled softly, almost bored.
"My beloved jacket is entirely ruined."
He pressed his lips into a thin line, and having made a decision, threw his sword to the ground. Then he stepped towards Zeya, palms open in a clear gesture of peace.
Zeya stood still, eyes fixed on Han Min. Then realisation struck him. Han Min could not be hurt by a blade.
"Now I see how it was possible for you to be here," Han Min spoke calmly. "You are wholly a spirit."
Zeya gave a fake smile.
"How did you…"
"I was willing to die to find Sein," Zeya replied, anticipating his question.
"What did your mother tell you?"
"I know everything… Han Min," Zeya replied.
Being called by his name, Han Min smirked.
"How you tricked my mother into thinking she needed a son to secure her position," Zeya said, buying himself time. "How you've been manipulating her for your own selfish gains. You were the one who told my parents to send Sein away. Are you responsible for her death as well?"
A brief moment passed before Han Min responded in his usual soothing tone.
"I was acting in your best interests. Everything I have done…," he began, "every sacrifice, every decision, has been for you, my son. You must return. There is still so much to accomplish. And now that you know the truth, well, we can finally work wonders. Together, we shall build an empire not merely worthy of the history books, but one that will set a precedent for the world."
Zeya frowned.
"I will never work with you," he said flatly.
Out of the corner of his eye, Zeya saw Sein stir. The sheer relief of knowing she was alive drained the rage threatening to poison his heart. A lightness rose in its place as he lifted his sword.
"I shall continue to fight you," he said. "Until you return Sein to the mortal world. Otherwise you will have to end me."
"I do not wish to kill you," Han Min stated, displaying his open palms again. "I am sure you are aware now, you cannot defeat me with your blade. You have no devotees, and that sword is entirely useless. However, if it makes you feel better, go ahead, land another strike. Indulge in your temper tantrum."
Han Min stood, proud and regal, with chin lifted, waiting for Zeya to strike.
"If I cannot defeat you with my sword, then I shall beat you with my bare hands."
Zeya let his sword drop to the ground, with a metallic clang. He held up his fists, poised for attack, wishing to keep Han Min distracted and keep his eyes away from Sein's direction.
He knew Sein would be able to heal herself using her power. Once she was back to full strength, they could plan their next move against Han Min.
For now, the simple fact that she was alive was enough.
"Absurd! What are the youths of today becoming!" Han Min sighed, positioning himself to defend. "Very well, if you wish to indulge in this folly, then let us dance."
He signalled with his pale finger for Zeya to proceed.
"I shall restrain my powers to give you a fair chance," he added.
They circled each other warily, shoulders squared, breath tight, each trying to read the flicker of intent in the other's posture: a slight twitch of the hand, the angle of a foot, or a narrowing of the gaze.
This was a true fight. The familiarity of past training clung to their movements, but the purpose had shifted: every strike now sought to wound, not teach.
Zeya's fists cut through the air with lethal precision, aimed for Han Min's jaw. Han Min countered, his own blows sharp, deliberate, and controlled.
Their feet moved swiftly, delivering punishing kicks that thudded into ribs and thighs, the impact shuddering through muscle and bone.
But gradually, Zeya's attacks began to lose their edge. Han Min read them with increasing ease.
With a faint, smug expression, Han Min parried another strike, slipped aside from a jab, and stepped inside Zeya's guard. In a single fluid motion, he drove his elbow into Zeya's face.
Zeya staggered half a step back, then steadied himself, gritting his teeth as pain flared through his jaw. A sharp metallic taste filled his mouth. He spat, wiping the blood from his lip, and fixed Han Min with a hard stare.
"If you mean to stop me, you'll have to kill me. As long as I draw breath, I will fight you."
He had to keep Han Min focused on him. Step by step, he retreated, luring Han Min forward and drawing him farther away from Sein.
"Now you are being somewhat ludicrous," Han Min said. "How could I possibly kill my own son? I am simply a diligent father, removing what is harmful to you. I have watched you grow into the man before me today, guiding you, nurturing you, shaping you into not just a leader, but a warrior of the highest calibre."
He spoke with a calm, reassuring voice, watching for any sign of hesitation on Zeya's face.
"You possess status, power, wealth, and, let us not forget, devastating good looks. You could have any woman you merely glance at and indulge in as many as you desire."
He gestured towards Sein with a flick of his head.
"Why that girl? She is simply beneath you. Trust me, you have far too little experience to judge these matters clearly. Infatuation is not the same as love. I shall find someone truly suited to you, someone of royal blood, refinement, and consequence. Leave the girl behind. In time, you will see she was never worthy of the future awaiting you."
"She is my wife. Sein is worth a hundred of you," Zeya said, his pale eyes cold. "Let me be perfectly clear. You are nothing to me. You may think what you wish, but you shall never be my father."
"Are those cruel words meant to injure me?"
Han Min remained composed, though a faint frown betrayed him.
"I see you are truly distressed," he continued. "Your yearning for a loving wife is palpable, but you must understand, she is merely using you. She is with you solely for your wealth and status. Were you a common man, she would not give you a second glance."
"You cannot manipulate me with your words, Han Min," Zeya retorted, secure in the knowledge that he was wholly loved by Sein.
"You are simply blinded by desire. It is not love," Han Min said. "Have I not cautioned you against such temptresses? A harlot of her sort will stop at nothing to ensnare your heart. She has you wrapped around her little finger."
Zeya's expression darkened, his jaw clenching as Han Min's words tried to take hold. He forced the thought away, breath steadying as anger sharpened into focus.
Then he launched back into the fight with a kick.
Han Min shifted his weight slightly and caught the kick with a firm forearm block. The impact barely registered.
"You must shake yourself free from this madness and see things as they truly are," Han Min urged as he stepped in to close the distance.
Zeya realised Han Min's reactions far exceeded his own capabilities. He needed to change tactics. How could he hope to defeat such a powerful foe? Han Min had countless followers behind him, while he had none.
He must keep a rein on his emotions and think clearly.
Meeting Han Min's eyes, Zeya let uncertainty creep into his expression, allowing Han Min to believe his words had taken hold.
"Tell me, what did she say to you?" Han Min asked. "Did she profess to cherish you? Did she vow never to leave you? Did she whisper that you, and only you, held her heart?"
Zeya seized his chance and drove his fist into Han Min's face. The satisfaction of finally landing a clean hit drained much of his fury.
"Love isn't just about words," he declared. "It's what you do for one another. The sacrifices you're willing to make… the compromises you're willing to accept. And the lengths you will go to make the other feel truly cherished."
He recalled the story of Han Min and how his wife betrayed him in the end. There was obviously no mutual affection in that relationship.
"And that is something you'll never truly grasp because you have never truly known it," Zeya added.
His last sentence seemed to hit a sore spot. The words struck deeper than any physical blow.
Han Min wiped his bloodied nose with his pristine white sleeves, creating a crimson smear across his cheek. As he glanced up with flared nostrils, he struck air. The invisible whip sent Zeya backwards, crashing to the ground.
Momentarily dazed, Zeya shook his head before recovering from the impact. He was no stranger to physical pain, but his whole body throbbed with searing agony.
Only then did the extent of Han Min's power dawn on him. He stood up cautiously.
How was he supposed to save Sein when he could not even defend himself?
"You deserved that," Han Min muttered, then his eyes softened as he continued, "You cannot win against me. The odds are insurmountable. Now come, do be sensible, son. Tell me, how shall we proceed from here?"
Zeya caught Sein moving again, her huddled form straightening as she pushed herself off the floor. He must allow her more time to fully recover.
"Agree to return my wife to me," Zeya spoke up. "And we shall discuss a way forward."
"I see," Han Min said, raising his palms up in acceptance. "This is becoming rather tedious. If you must indulge your whims and have her until you grow bored, then so be it. However, let us first agree on a few terms."
Zeya smiled, knowing he had managed to distract Han Min. He crossed his arms casually and said, "Absolutely, what are your terms?"
His mind raced as he searched for a way to defeat the supreme spirit. If Sein could freeze him in place with her cloth power, even briefly, he could dive for the spiritual sword on the ground. Surely a blade forged from Han Min's own power would be enough to bring him down.
But how would he communicate the plan to Sein?
"You shall be under my complete control," Han Min began. "Return to the mortal realm and adhere to my every command, following meticulously the plans I lay out for you. You will unravel your noble deeds by releasing my followers and let them resume their delightful reign of terror, halting the resources from the north. And of course, we shall stoke skirmishes in the towns and villages, allowing the natural folly of mortals to take its course. We shall cultivate their fear, their hatred, until every soul is but a devoted disciple of mine. Utterly and irrevocably!
"This will ensure the elimination of Amptu for good. He will no longer be Spirit of War. You shall have that prestigious title. I have honed your skills since you were but a boy, moulding you into an elite warrior of the highest order. You are far beyond his measure. Together, we shall shake the very foundations of the Spirit Realm and make the adjustments that are long overdue." Han Min paused, his mind greedily clawing at the possibilities. "If you, however, deviate from my instructions, I will take away your toy. Is that clear?"
"This is what you truly desire?" Zeya burst forth, unable to hide his disbelief. "You seek revenge on Prince Amptu because he defeated you a thousand years ago? Is that truly what all this has been about? What utter… petty resentment have you been clinging to all this time?"
Han Min clenched his jaw.
Zeya had again aimed his words at a vulnerable spot. Han Min's fingers twitched, his hand poised to flick another strike at his son, but he restrained his anger quickly.
"Do we have an agreement?" he asked in a measured tone.
Sein heard every word of their conversation. She had regained consciousness as soon as Han Min released her throat. Remaining perfectly still, she assessed the situation whilst pouring her cloth power to heal herself. Once she was fully recovered, she cautiously sat up.
Zeya had been fighting Han Min, but clearly it was impossible to beat a supreme spirit. Still, he had persisted, and Sein listened, not daring to turn around. It was better to play dead and plan.
All the while she feared Zeya would be injured or killed. But she took reassurance in Han Min's words that he would not kill his son, though the word 'son' threw her.
What did he mean by it? Now was not the time to ponder this.
When the sounds of fighting stopped, a conversation began, and Sein continued to listen. Surely Zeya was not going to agree to Han Min's terms?
Perhaps he saw no other choice.
The thought of Han Min using Zeya like a puppet to do as he wished ignited something. Her chest tightened as she clenched her fists.
Han Min was a supreme spirit, and she knew she would not be able to defeat him using her power.
But there must be a way, she said over and over in her head.
Catching a glimpse of the beautiful, translucent blade Han Min had discarded on the ground, she wondered whether his sword would prove lethal. Could she use his blade to end him?
"As a spirit, it is up to you what you do with your power. One is only limited by one's lack of imagination." This was what Kumbi told her.
Before Zeya could respond to Han Min's terms, Sein acted quickly.
"My husband will not be agreeing to any of your demands," she said, slowly rising to her feet.
Han Min spun around to see Sein fully recovered, staring at him with calculating eyes. Her arms were raised, mimicking holding an imaginary bow, with one hand pulling the bowstring taut.
The men stared in astonishment at the majestic spiritual sword hovering off the ground. Before Han Min could process what was going on, Sein's fingers, held by her ears, moved with a fluid motion, releasing the held tension.
This immediately caused the sword to propel forward like an arrow, flying towards Han Min.
It was exceedingly fast, accurate, and deadly.
As the sword pierced Han Min's chest, he let out a guttural, "Urrgh!"
"You shall never control Zeya," Sein declared. "He shall do as he pleases."
Han Min fell to his knees, staring with wide eyes at his sword embedded in his chest. His gaze rested on the hilt where a thin piece of cloth was tied around it.
Moments before, Sein seized the possibility forming in her mind and quickly teased out a long strip of cloth from her sleeve end. With a flick of her wrist, she lassoed Han Min's sword with the fabric, guiding it to tie neatly onto the hilt with her mind.
This was how she had commanded the sword.
"It seems I underestimated you again," Han Min said, wearing a sly, fake grin. "Bravo, you have disposed of Lord Ray's body."
The man's eyes closed, and with a final breath, collapsed forward. The blade plunged deeper into his body, protruding from his back, as blood pooled beneath him.
The light that illuminated the environment suddenly vanished.
Before Sein knew what she had accomplished, she found herself in Zeya's embrace.
"Sein, thank goodness you're alright," he said. "How on earth did you do that? That was truly extraordinary."
In the darkness, she felt his lips pressed to her cheek, his breath heavy.
"I was going out of my mind when I found out he took you," he confessed. "I thought I'd lost you forever."
Sein held out a hand, fingers searching until they rested on the familiar jawline. She nestled her head on his shoulder, soaking in his reassuring presence.
"You came for me," she said, giddy from the immense relief that poured into her as she clung to Zeya.
Before Sein and Zeya could exchange any more words, they were interrupted by a shimmering light. It dazzled and crackled with energy, bursting brightly and blinding them momentarily. As they squinted against the glittering sparks, a figure of a man slowly emerged.
Zeya immediately pushed Sein behind him, anticipating Han Min. Sein did not sense any ill intent and placed a hand on Zeya's back to reassure him.
The spirit that appeared was tall and slender, wearing traditional clothes of silk-woven sarong and an ornate collarless jacket. He snapped his fan shut, grasping the jade handle.
As the light returned to normal levels, Sein immediately recognised him. She peered at his elaborate shoes. It was the spirit who granted her spirit-hood.
"Come now, Han Min. The game is over. You have lost and you must accept the consequence," the spirit spoke in a singsong tone to the surroundings, his eyes twinkling. "Relinquish your supreme-hood and be a wandering spirit."
"If the game is over, then I have won."
A harsh, recognisable voice filled the room.
"I have far more devotees than Amptu, which means he will no longer be Spirit of War."
"The tide has turned, Han Min. Latest count, Amptu has more followers. You have rather tragically lost the favour of your ultimate super devotee. A considerable blow, indeed. But it is your own doing. Your son's actions have shattered Queen Opame's faith in your divine status. You never should have taken your son's wife."
"You have meddled too much by bringing her back," Han Min objected, his presence lingering like a shadow just out of sight, unable to take on a form. "This is hardly a fair game."
"What can I say?" the spirit shrugged. "Nothing is fair in life. Nothing is fair in death. And nothing is fair in spirit-hood."
"You treacherous fool," Han Min said. His voice seemed nearer. "Bask in your fleeting triumph while you can; you may rule the Spirit Realm at present, but nothing in this world is permanent. This petty game of yours may conclude for now, but mark my words, it is far from over."
"Have you not realised after all this time, Han Min," the spirit retorted, looking smug and haughty. "Every soul craves love and belonging. It is an ingrained instinct, written in the very essence of each individual. Driven by the desire for survival. Love rules all mortals. And therefore I shall always rule the Spirit Realm."
"Nothing in this universe truly lasts forever!"
A gust of wind swept past as if a mighty door had been slammed shut. Han Min's presence was gone. A strange calm settled in his aftermath like a rainstorm clearing the air of all impurities.
"What games have you been playing with our lives?" Zeya demanded, his icy stare directed at the spirit. "And what, exactly, gives you the right?"
The spirit's attention rested on the couple. He gave a sheepish grin as he approached.
"Come now. We are all spirits here," he began, tapping the end of the fan on his chin. "There is no need to be cross."
"You are Spirit of Love and Marriage," Sein exclaimed, realising now he resembled the statue that was in the pavilion during the Festival of Spirits. "You blessed us!"
"Indeed," he said with a slight bow of his head. "You came to me to be blessed, did you not? You secretly desired him… and he secretly desired you. I made the perfect match."
Then he gave a significant glance at Zeya.
"And in return for your gracious devotion, I kept my word. You are bound together for eternity. Even beyond death."
When Sein frowned at this, he added, "It was this bond that allowed your husband to track you to the Spirit Realm."
"When you granted me Spirit of Cloth," Sein said, eyes narrowing, "you mentioned something about a playing field. Was that to help you win your game?"
"Since Han Min used his power to eliminate you, I used my power to grant you spirit-hood," the supreme spirit admitted. "Which makes things even, does it not? Though no one foresaw the turn of events. It is a shame you were caught up in our little game. But that is due to a certain important person falling in love with you." His eyes flicked to Zeya before continuing, "And in the end, love wins all."
With a graceful flick of the wrist, he opened the fan, its delicate folds spreading wide as he began to fan himself.
Sein and Zeya remained silent. To think their lives had been shaped by some spirit's game was both appalling and deeply unsettling, as though mortal suffering existed merely for the amusement of supreme spirits.
Spirit of Love and Marriage guessed their thoughts and gave a rueful grin.
"When you have existed for as long as we have, it can become incredibly dull. Granting wishes and prayers day in day out… much like a repetitive strain for the mind," he said, flicking his fan shut and tapping his temple. "You do what you have to, to make things bearable to continue century after century. Still… it was delightful while it lasted. And now we have someone new in the ranks of supreme-hood. A breath of fresh air, indeed."
Then appraising Zeya with an arched eyebrow, he continued, "I trust you are far more reasonable than your father. And I trust you will not be utterly opposed to Amptu as Spirit of War. Finally, I shall have a bit of peace in this realm."
The reference to Han Min as Zeya's father made her stomach churn. Sein opened her mouth, but no words came.
"I have stripped Han Min of all his power. Thus, it is my pleasure to grant you, Zeya Arkar, spirit-hood," the supreme spirit declared. "It will be a delight to follow how you fare, being Spirit of Prosperity."
"I have no desire to be Spirit of Prosperity," Zeya said, folding his arms.
"You do not have a choice in the matter, son. I am surrendering my supreme-hood to you, as was agreed."
Han Min's voice was heard, but its source was further away than before.
"In time, you will walk my path, once power and glory have consumed you. After all, you are your father's son."
Zeya's shoulders stiffened as his brow furrowed.
Seeing the distress on his face, Sein turned and cupped his cheeks in her hands. She gently drew his attention to her, meeting his pale eyes with absolute conviction.
"You will never be like Han Min. You have the genuine affection and admiration from the people who surround you. I love you. Your men respect and admire you, and they will follow you anywhere. You will never need to resort to underhanded tactics to control them. You will be what Spirit of Prosperity ought to have been. And I'll always stand by your side."
Zeya's lips curved, his eyes softening, then leant forward to seek her lips.
"Gracious… this is far too much to bear."
Spirit of Love and Marriage's melodic voice was heard, sparks shimmering in the air like miniature fireworks. He had already retreated.
"There is so much love between the two of you. Young love, like the first flush of spring, blooming with a vibrant energy, unspoiled by the trials of time and filled with the scent of possibilities. What it is to be young… and in love!"
As the sparks faded, they heard him say, "You may return to the mortal realm. You are free to do as you wish."
Sein and Zeya stared at the empty space where Spirit of Love and Marriage stood, processing what they had just experienced.
Sein took a deep breath, then as she exhaled, suddenly it dawned on her.
Spirit of Love and Marriage was right: everyone sought love and belonging. She had been searching for it all her life. But having a loving family had not been enough. Contributing to Sagyo's community and finding purpose had not brought her peace. Even being adored by Zeya had not made her feel whole.
Now, she realised she needed to love herself first and foremost. This newfound self-acceptance and compassion dissolved her doubts and feelings of unworthiness for good.
For the first time in her life, she was secure in the knowledge of who she was, what she was, and felt completely content.
"We have an eternity before us. What shall we do with our time?" Sein asked, eyes shining.
"I'm certain we shall make very good use of it," Zeya replied, holding both her hands in his. "Firstly, we must return to the palace. I must ensure Khin Yu is not executed for what he did."
Zeya recounted the meeting with his parents and how it ended, which allowed him to follow Han Min into the Spirit Realm.
"Did Khin Yu really do that? Did he really say, go to her?"
"Absolutely," Zeya said, eyes glistening. "He's been looking after me for so long that I scarcely noticed just how much I rely on him. He is, without question, someone dear to me. We must return and save him."
"My opinion of Khin Yu has certainly changed," Sein said. Then her eyes sparkled with emotion as she continued, "You were willing to forgo your mortal life to save me… and for that I am eternally grateful."
"I promised to protect you with my life, and be by your side for as long as I shall be," Zeya said quietly, slipping his arms around her waist. "I am wholly yours, my heart, my loyalty, my very being."
Before Sein could respond, he pressed his lips to hers, a tender gesture that conveyed a depth of emotion words could not.
Pulling back just enough to meet her eyes, he murmured, "I meant every word."