Radeon had long since stepped past the boundary that men called immortal. Past whatever lay beyond eternal.
The titles meant little to him. They had never sat right in his head.
"Master, allow me to pour you a cup."
He cradled the porcelain teapot in both hands and tipped a thin line of steaming amber into his master's empty cup.
Qi threaded from his fingers into the stream. It held the liquid steady against the mad mountain wind that clawed at the broken peak where they stood.
Not a drop spilled on the scarred stone between them.
Jekyll watched in silence. He lifted the cup. Took one slow sip. The lines at the corners of his mouth folded into a faint smile.
To Jekyll, this Giovanni was no more than an amusing child. Over the centuries he had taken hundreds of disciples and taught thousands.
Some had carved their names into history. More had vanished along the path.
To Jekyll this one. Giovanni. Whatever they called him. Was another tight green bud among many.
Competent enough. Quick enough. But not yet worth stirring the deep roots of the whole forest for his sake.
Jekyll had a personal policy. A bottom line he respected.
A bottom line his own master had beaten into him before Jekyll put that same man six feet under with his own hands.
Merits should never be set aside. Reward what is done well. Punish what is done poorly. Simple. Cruel. Clean.
Men would hate you for you didn't. They would expect more each time you acknowledged their worth.
Expectation turned to hunger. Hunger turned to resentment. His master had warned him of that. Died by that rule all the same.
He took Giovanni's bag without a word. The weight and the faint metallic clink told him enough. Work of the array masters.
To Jekyll, Giovanni was not a boy with slippery fingers and quick excuses. Not after he had come back from the Skyflight Sword Court camp.
Despite being part of the Hemal Tithe Cult, Jekyll disdained the act of pilfering through belongings of others.
Jekyll wondered if it was the boy. Or his own neglect.
To ease the hard knot of guilt in his chest he made a nearby cache float. There he
Refined ore. Ink stones. Used array cores that still functioned. Useful for those with interest. Useless to Jekyll himself.
His interest had always been in cultivation and the harsher arts that came with it.
Jekyll the pale bag Radeon he assumed he had pillaged. This time he placed it back into Giovanni's hands himself.
No qi. No technique. Just his fingers brushing the boy's knuckles and a thin smile that never reached his eyes.
"Within a week, I expect clear progress on this little interest of yours. By then, see that you have something worthy of my attention." He said it, then turned his back to look out at the distant scenery.
For now, this was the smallest respect Jekyll could offer this young disciple.
Radeon knew men like him. Traditional. The kind who spoke with a silent stare and a long, probing look. Their eyes were doors that opened only once.
A window to speak. A narrow slice of time when questions could be pushed through before the gaze slid away and shut again.
"Master, this disciple would ask. If a siege is coming, how do you wish me to prepare?"
"Do not trouble yourself with impatience. You would do well to leave this place at once. You know the road to Hemal Tithe on the central continent. I shall see you there," Jekyll said, then waved a hand to signal he could go.
Giovanni had always hated how easily Jekyll could speak of hard things, as if distance were minor inconveniences.
The Hemal Tithe Cult's main stronghold was not some nearby alley you could stroll into on a whim.
It was tens of thousands of miles from where he stood, maybe more.
Radeon watched Jekyll a moment longer. The man's master closed his eyes and leaned back into his chair, calm as a judge who had already passed sentence. The visit was over.
"Master Jekyll, this disciple will take his leave," he said, then bowed.
Radeon slipped out of the room and eased the door shut behind him. No sound. No trace.
Then he was already moving. He took a slow, deliberate descent, the way Giovanni always did it, measured and careless on purpose.
He could feel Jekyll still watching him, seeing him off without a word.
So Radeon added a touch of speed, not enough to look hurried, just enough to be gone a breath sooner.
He had to catch the errand boys. His only clean way in was when they started to scrub the place down.
At the next landing he saw them. A small troop with their weapons bared.
Buckets that sloshed, brooms that thumped, rags slung over narrow shoulders.
Each one carried a thin pulse of cultivation in their abdomen.
Breath Tempering. Early and Middle Stages. Hadn't seen much action, those lightly calloused hands says it all.
For a breath, he weighed them. He could strip one of them of identity and no one would ever know.
Then he remembered the tight rule of his own path. Even at cornerstone, the Paradoxical Devouring Art bound him to three.
Not a true limit, not in the way iron bars were limits, but a safety net he had tied around his own throat.
If he stepped past it, he would feel himself slipping, not stronger, just less himself.
His thoughts would wander off, and he would act like the very people he consumed.
Sail Knife was a worrywart to his family back home. Giovanni always tried to squeeze little benefits from Jekyll.
He did not want his mind altered into compliance. He wanted to stay himself.
For now, Giovanni, Sail Knife, and the wood body would suffice.
Radeon forced his mind forward and followed them through half a dozen corridors, keeping his pace ordinary, his breath even.
He knew these errand boys ahead would greet him. That was the first hinge.
Once greetings were exchanged, anything that went wrong after would stick to whoever looked out of place.
And Giovanni looked out of place.
He was no alchemist. This side of the compound belonged to furnaces, vials, and men who stank of metal and bitter herbs.
The living quarters lay on the other end, where a combatants. Here, every face was counted.
Worse, Master Jekyll was still on watch at his post, which meant any disruption would be seen and measured.
Giovanni would become the cleanest suspect the moment a crate went missing or a seal broke.
Radeon would not let that happen. Not to Giovanni. He found the face useful, and he meant to keep it.