He is deep in the "family business" when his dad hands him a short frumpy assistant. Not sure what to do with her or how she can be useful to him. 
She was hired to look after a young man. Make sure he eats and takes care of himself. Basically mother this annoying grown man.
Even though this is a fanfiction I believe it can be enjoyed by everyone,

I woke up in the dead of the night. 
It was cold. It was silent.
It was peaceful.

Ahh, I'm dead.
Yet I don't remember how.

And now I'm supposed to look over this kid?

You kiddin' me?!
What happened to a supposed 'afterlife'?!
I'm still on Earth, damnit!

Ahh, I'm dead.

That's what I had realized when I woke up.
Yet, oddly enough, I don't remember how I died.

Contrary to my expectations, the place I woke up to wasn't the afterlife.

Facing a little girl, I was suddenly told that I'm her Guardian Angel. 

I died, so how did I become the Guardian Angel of a child?

With numerous questions baffling me, I did my best to carry out my new duty as I tried to explore my forgotten past. 

What happened to me?
How did I die?
What exactly happened during the gap in my memories?

The more I learned of myself, the more the questions in me arose.

And I pray,
That the truth isn't something I'd rather not know.

...........................................................................................................................

Note from Author:
I wrote this without basing on anything in particular. 
In short, it's mostly imagination-based work so any widely known knowledge you have regarding angels and demons, you can just throw them out the window. Read my work with a blank slate. It's easier that way. 

By the way, this is my first book so I'd appreciate some comments and reviews so I can know better where to improve myself. 
That said, hope you enjoy my work~

They say I look like an Angel.
They say My name really suits me. My face rather.
They say I look so really innocent.

Pero sabi lang nila yun, Tingin lang nila yun.
Sabi nga 'Don't judge a book by its cover and its title'.

Hindi lahat ng mukhang mabait ay mabait.
Hindi lahat ng maganda ay maganda.
Hindi lahat ng Angel ang pangalan pangalan ay mabait.
And Vise Versa.
But I believe we have our own goodness and badness. Alamin nyo nalang yung akin.

PS; Hindi lahat ng nakikita nyo ay yun na yun at hindi lahat ng naririnig nyo ay yun na yun. Yung iba Hakahaka, di sigurado at madalas hindi kompleto.

Once again I'm Angel.
I mean.

Just read my story. Thank you.


  Ira indicated for Potter to keep an eye on the horses and weapons and remain outside. Once they moved inside the building, Ira paused, glancing at the young stranger. The commissioner saw the look Ira gave the gentleman.
  "Moana, this is Richard Seddon. Richard, this is Sergeant Moana Rangitira, who used to be one of our best constables, until a severe knock on his cranium rendered him apparently senseless," stated the commissioner, still furious.
  The two men shook hands, each appraising the other. 
  "A pleasure to meet you, Sergeant," said Richard, his tone warm and friendly.
  "Sir, what I have to discuss is extremely important... and sensitive," said Ira.
  "Richard, can you please excuse us for a minute?"
  "Of course, sir," replied Mr. Seddon, walking back up the stairs and disappearing through an open doorway at the top.
  "What is it, Moana?" asked the Commissioner testily, once he was satisfied his guest was out of earshot.
  "This afternoon, Constable Potter and I reconnoitred the outside perimeter of the depot. We happened across a place that offered a good vantage point for surveillance. On the ground, we found cigarette ends, sir... belonging to Russian cigarettes." 
  The commissioner's mouth opened, the importance of Ira's discovery sinking in.
  "We believe the depot was under Russian surveillance during the day and they witnessed the relocation of the prisoner. Sergeant McDonald and the other men are in danger, sir. The Russians probably followed McDonald to wherever it is he took them. I expect a rescue attempt anytime within the next hour and a half. I went to your home, and Mrs. Sinclair told me where we could find you. As far as the rifle discharge goes, witnesses observed Constable Potter confiscating a rifle from an intoxicated man," Ira explained.
  The commissioner was absentmindedly rubbing his chin, deep in thought. The darkened entranceway cast ominous shadows across his face, matching his mood. 
  "I apologize, Moana, and I commend you on your resourcefulness. Mr. Seddon will be entering politics soon, and I was tasked with interviewing him for... umm, membership here. The personal connections will serve him well on his endeavours. In light of all that was happening at the depot, I was unwilling to leave, but I had no option," said the commissioner, looking at Ira apologetically. 
  Ira didn't have much interest in the aspirations of Richard Seddon. He kept his face impassive as he waited for directions.
  "Go quickly, Moana. McDonald is at the Newtown station on Adelaide Road."
  "Thank you, sir," said Ira, halfway out of the open door. 
  Both Ira and Potter knew the Newtown station well. It was an old cottage, with a gaol cell attached to the building, and was often used to temporarily confine minor offenders overnight.
  "Godspeed, Moana, and God help them," said the commissioner as he watched Ira and Potter leaving with a clatter of hooves.
  
  As politely requested, Richard Seddon had entered the room at the top of the stairs to await the return of the commissioner, Harold Sinclair. The acoustics of the entranceway and stairwell were sufficient to amplify and project the conversation between the sergeant and the commissioner quite clearly. Intelligent and ambitious, Seddon would not forget the curious conversation he overheard. An extraordinary situation, he mused.
  
  Seddon's reveries were interrupted as the commissioner arrived, huffing and puffing, at the top of the stairs. Apologizing profusely for the disturbance, the commissioner informed Mr Seddon that he would approve and recommend his request for membership at the Freemasons' Pacific Lodge No. 2 during their next scheduled meeting. However, pressing business would preclude any further discussion or interview between the two men. After a warm handshake, the two men separated and each went his own way, the commissioner taking the fastest route to the depot.
  
February 12th, 1873, Adelaide Road, Newtown, Wellington. 1930 hours.
  Boris was walking up Adelaide Road. With him were fifteen Marines, all out of uniform and wearing civilian clothes. The Marines carried a pallet that they had hastily constructed aboard the ship, which carried their weapons. Cloth and rope, carefully and creatively arranged, hid their cargo.  It was highly unlikely that sixteen men, including Oleg Ivanov, walking through the streets of Wellington would not attract attention, so Boris thought that hiding in the open and having the men appear as boisterous sailors would work in their favour. The men had been singing an old seagoing shanty most of the way through Wellington, and the attention they received consisted of nothing more than annoyed glances and the odd door slamming shut as they passed by in full chorus, with Oleg reprising his character of Georgie leading the shanty:
  Fare you well, I wish you well! 
  Goodbye, fare you well; goodbye, fare you well! 
  Fare you well, my bonny young lassies, 
  Hurrah, my boys, we're homeward bound!
    
  The billows roll, the breezes blow, 
  Goodbye, fare you well; goodbye, fare you well! 
  To us they're calling: sheet home and go! 
  Hurrah, my boys, we're homeward bound!  
  
  We're homeward bound, and I hear the sound, 
  Goodbye, fare you well; goodbye, fare you well! 
  So heave on the caps'n and make it spin round. 
  Hurrah, my boys, we're homeward bound!  
  
  Our anchors aweigh and our sails they are set, 
  Goodbye, fare you well; goodbye, fare you well! 
  And the girls we are leaving we leave with regret. 
  Hurrah, my boys, we're homeward bound!  
  
  She's a flash clipper packet and bound for to go, 
  Goodbye, fare you well; goodbye, fare you well! 
  With the girls on her towrope she cannot say no. 
  Hurrah, my boys, we're homeward bound!



Author:
Paul W. Feenstra is a historical fiction novelist. Meticulously researched and detailed, his character driven novels create a dramatic window into our chronicled and complex past. Born in Wellington, New Zealand, in 1959, to Dutch immigrants, Paul still commutes to Los Angeles, California, where he worked as a multiple ‘Emmy’ nominated entertainment industry professional.


Believing God speaks to him through the archangel Gabriel, and anointed with powers, Te Ua unites his people through a common cause. He is determined to drive the imperial oppressors from Maori land and return New Zealand to the righteous.

In early 1860’s New Zealand, the beautiful region of Taranaki is engulfed in a brutal land war. Continuing with its unpopular policy, the New Zealand government, bolstered by British soldiers, seeks punitive and severe action against rebel Maori who openly resist the Government’s determined effort to confiscate their lands.  With regular army forces ill equipped to fight in the wilderness, the specialist highly trained ‘Forest Rangers’ are tasked to pursue rebel Maori deep into the rugged bush clad hills.

The Rangers newest recruit, Moana (Ira) Rangitira, a veteran of the Crimean war, shows remarkable and unusual skills, Maori fear and call him, ‘The ghost who walks’. Ira faces challenges that test his will to survive, and can he protect what is closest to his heart, or has everything been destroyed?

‘The Breath of God’ is the first novel in the Moana Rangitira adventure series.


Wake up! Wake up!
Who!who are you?
"I, I am your most beloved person . Are you done? You have been sleeping over 1000 years. Now it's time to wake up" – the voice is so warm and comforting to hear that anybody can fall into it.
Huh! What are you talking about? I don't understand.
Hahaha....!
.....
"You will know everything just try to find me, I have been always by your side. I am waiting for you for thousand years....you should wake up"- a mysterious wild and smirk smile sound blows into Rozel's ear. 
Rozel wakes up quickly , realizes that she was dreaming.  "That dream!! Again! What type of dream was that? What's happening to me? Who is he?? By my side...." she asked herself.
"Oh!no..it's just a dream . But his eyes, hair ...and those outfit just looking amazing like a jade white, bluish pupil ...huh! right he was so handsome  as if he dropped out from heaven ."
Rozel comes to sense quickly - 'why bother? Just a dream like as always.'
Rozel is a very lovely girl, though she is not beautiful enough but looks pretty; long hair and big eyes are presents that how pretty she is!  she lives in a small town in China, about her biological parents she doesn't know anything. Her foster parents looks  after her for many years . She never asked to them about her birth place and parents . Though her father; Yicheng  is a Chinese but her mother is a European. That's why Rozel's  name was picked up by Reona; her mother. They have no children and Rozel is the only one ; so, Reona  and Yicheng love her very much. 
Now she is in 20 and study in Science from a nearby college . It is not a reputed institute but better than others in her area. The scenery of her college is very charming, the peach blossom trees and maple trees are stands along the road . Rozel loves this trees very much but there was a unknown reason to love this road , but she never think about this matter. Now , it's autumn season, the maple leaf covered with the whole road .The strange smell of the winds , the beautiful scenery; these are something which are attached to her life ; suddenly,  a figure seems to be  appeared for a short time which is vanished quickly.  Again, Rozel doesn't understand why does she see  that dream every night and why does she feel something strange when she walking this path??? Suddenly she is  remember those words.. "just try to find me. I am always by your side". 
Rozel walks through the path. A girl  called to her, Rozel..Rozel! 
Rozel responds to her, 'it's you'.
 It's Leo , her best friend. Leo know everything about her problems.  She asked , 'you are not ok, right? any problem?'
Rozel is silent for a moment , then say ' what?' Leo say to her, " if you have any problem, you should share to me?" 
 " I see him in my dream tonight, he said that he was always by my side and also told me to find him. Today's dream was different from the other days. I don't understand what to do! should I talk to my parents about this matter ? Please ,tell me Leo , tell me, why do i  see this strange dream everynight and now who is he?? Why is he waiting for me? Who am i? ..." she starts to cry and tell everything to Leo.

Leo hold her tightly and says to Rozel , ' don't worry, there must be a solution. Now, let's go to class.' 
Rozel smiles and says , 'hmmm.....ok.'
Rozel and Leo comes to class quickly. After class , they go to the canteen for lunch. Suddenly that strange smell pass through her left  side. She gives him a look and sees a tall boy passes through her side but his face covered with a mask and also she can't see his eyes properly because most of the part of eyes covered with his long hair.. He is wearing a white shirt with the combination of peach blossom and maple colour which presents him as if he is an angel, a strange feelings starts in her mind which she feels exactly the same when she walks through those trees road. Many strange feelings moves into her mind and suddenly she sees that the guy is vanished!
What! 
'Did you see a tall boy a moment ago?' Rozel asked to Leo .
'No! Did you see something?' Leo gives her a look.
'I ...nothing, may be i am tired. That's why..it's ok . Don't worry Leo' - . Rozel smiled. Infact she even more confused what was happened that's why she didn't say anything to Leo.

Then Leo starts to tease her, "huh! Okk, avoid that mysterious guy and concentrates to me,  half of the day you talk about only your dream and that so called handsome.....ummmmmm!!!"
Rozel puts the whole meat into her mouth and says , ' Eat, my friend.'
Hahahahahaha.. okk', Leo laughs.
After lunch, the next class starts . Rozel is not a good student but she tries to get good numbers in her exam and the Leo, she is quite smart but lazy; she reads only for passed the exam.
Finally the class is finished and the two walking through the garden of the college. After parting , Rozel returns to home.
it's almost dark; she is lying on her bed for a while. Today, the night view from her window looking so beautiful. She looks into the sky and falls into a deep sleep. ..Suddenly she hears a deep voice,  someone is whispering to her ear -  "i will never leave you, i will protect you forever like as our past life ;   just one step dear, you will find me. 

<Walking into the road, if you are not believe me may be it's dark or if you believe me may be I will be appeared but .....>"

....!!!!!.....
....may be he smiles or may be is crying...!

 "When autumn's golden wind
    embraces Dew of jade
All the love scenes of earth, 
     however many,fade.
There tender love flows like a stream;
This happy date seems but a dream.
Can they bear a separate homeward way?"

suddenly  the voice is slowly moving away which is unable to hear properly; if someone try to hear, he/she will understand what is he trying to say. There is a deep meaning of it...!!


●[From 'Immortals at the Magpie Bridge' by Qin Guan (Northern song dynasty)]

"…Yes, as I've mentioned earlier, the conditions on Homeward Planet are horrible. To be accurate, without terraforming, it is impossible for the place to support life, at least we have not found any sign of life on it. Even though there is solid water, that is just solid water, it is not enough to cultivate life on this planet."
On the television, the few recent series of science shows had famous scientists from various fields talk about the problems regarding Homeward Planet, including its orbit around the sun, the surface environment, the temperature, ozone layer condition, the geological situation, age of the planet, the internal storage of water, and the like.
In fact, after the Hope left Earth, after the initial panic period, when humanity mastered level 2 space civilization technology, there was an active effort to improve the scientific knowledge of the normal citizens. This first method to do that was through mass media, like television shows. It could draw the people's attention and also increase their knowledge at the same time. This method had been used for decades. In fact, the scientific program every Monday could be said to be the most popular series.
The guest for this week was truly a rare guest, he was the lynchpin of humanity's physics world, the great physicist Silewei. He looked like a middle-aged man with his hair combed down and was wearing a sharp suit, looking like a perfect gentleman.
Silewei looked at the camera and smiled, "Of course, with our current technology, in the next 5 to 10 years, there will be an influx of level 3 space civilization technology. Under such conditions, terraforming a potential planet won't hard. Yes, the conditions on Homeward Planet are horrible, but compared to the other planets in the wide cosmos, it is already quite unique. It has the potential to be a life-preserving planet. I've mentioned earlier, this planet has plenty of solid water, and this means it has a large layer of dry ice. When the temperature of the planet itself rises, the dry ice layer will melt and the greenhouse effect will cause the temperature of the planet to continue to rise. According to calculations, and if everything goes according to plan, when all the dry ice on the planet melts, the temperature on the planet's equator will be like a summer afternoon, around 30 to 33 degrees.
"As the dry ice layer melts, the water will flow downward and collect at the low lands. At the same time, due to the increased temperature, the water will evaporate into the ozone and this is how we will get rain…
"These are the first steps our team has planned, a suitable ozone, a suitable temperature, and a suitable moisture and water level. These are necessary for life to form. Of course, these are not enough to make this planet suitable for human habitation. This is because the concentration of carbon dioxide in the air will be too high; its density will be high enough for an able-bodied man to die after taking in two deep breaths. I don't think anyone will want to live in a fortress like the City of Light Moon, right? Where you'll need to wear a spacesuit whenever you leave the city. At that point, what's the point of the move?
"Therefore, we need something to convert the carbon dioxide into oxygen. The long term solution is, of course, plants. However, based on our calculations, we only have a few species of underwater algae plant that will be able to survive in this environment. In reality, even plants need oxygen. With the current carbon dioxide profile on Homeward Planet, other than the few algae plants, all the other plants will die when the sun sets… So, the initial stages of converting carbon dioxide into oxygen has to be done by human hands using our technology. This will take perhaps 5 to 10 years or even longer. You shouldn't complain about the time needed, because a planet is simply too big and this is a planet even bigger than Earth. Plus, what is our population now? Only several hundred thousand people, so a few decades is not long. Ladies and gentlemen watching, I hope you'll be patient."
When Silewei reached this point, the host smiled and said, "Thank you, Professor Silewei, for explaining to us the process of terraforming this planet. Now let us watch a video on this Homeward Planet before we move on…"
However, Silewei suddenly interrupted, breaking the program's planned flow, "Dear host, please don't be that impatient. I've agreed to your interview this time, so I wish you can let me finish. This is a live broadcast, isn't it? Then, all the more reason for me to finish what I have to say."
There was a layer of sweat on the host's forehead, but she handled it like a pro. She smiled and said, "It seems like Professor Silewei has something important to tell us. Then, Professor, what do you wish to add about Homeward Planet?" The host purposely stressed the term "Homeward Planet," reminding Silewei not to reveal any sensitive information.
However, Silewei knew what he was doing. He nodded and continued, "Dear viewers, you might think everything is fine and dandy since the terraforming plan has reached this stage, right? Indeed, when Homeward Planet is transformed to this step, the atmosphere will be suitable for human beings and the carbon dioxide conversion will slowly be handed over to the planets. From the soil conditions we have seen, the place is incredibly barren. After all, no plants or animals have roamed this planet before. However, the soil does have a large amount of minerals and trace elements, so we only need to sow some seeds and add some fertilizers before the plants will start to grow. In five to 10 years, the new forest coverage will reach 15 to 18 percent of total planet surface. This combined with the plants in the ocean, the planet will slowly move towards becoming a green planet.
"What about temperature? It's perfect, the forest, the increased ozone layer, and the sea will keep the temperature constant and the temperature on the planet's equator in the morning will be preserved at between 28 to 30 degrees. Of course, the actual numbers might fluctuate slightly, but is that important? No, because we have nano body temperature homeostatic clothes. As long as the temperature is not lower than negative 20 or higher than 60 degrees, it will be a balmy 20 degrees for us.
"What about the environment? There will never be threats of wild animals unless we breed animals from Earth and new planet. Even if we do breed fierce animals like tigers and lions, they are like bunnies before the Black Dragons that protect us…
"Sounds like we will be able to move in the next 15 to 20 years, isn't this perfect? We only need to spend one-tenth of our lifespan to gain a planet where we can run free… Wrong! You're all wrong!
"Gravity! The gravity of this planet! Yes, I'm sure the many viewers watching who are knowledgeable individuals will say to me, 'but Professor, it's just 1.7 times Earth's gravity, that is not difficult.' And I'll reply, 'you all underestimate this 1.7 times.' Ladies and gentlemen, it seems like many of you don't think this increase will bring any difficulties. Those that are slightly overweight can go on the diet and the underweight can go train, but is it really that easy?
"Of course not! Gravity is truly the last biggest problem that we cannot solve! Do you know what this 1.7 times increase represents? It means that other than the specially-trained Black Star Troopers, even the healthiest citizen would have a hard time moving on this planet. Why? Because his or her heart cannot work under this different gravity profile! After all, our ancestors have been adapting to the gravity on Earth since their birth. It took them several millennium to get used to that G number… and you think we can accomplish that on the new planet with just a few days of training? Perhaps your muscle and bones can get used to it, but what about your internal organs?
"Think about it, my fellow humans, when we were on Earth, trekking up the Himalayas would cause light-headedness from breathing difficulties. And now, even the flatlands on the Homeward Planet will be 1.7 times heavier than what we're used to. Do you still think we can walk around with ease? Impossible!"
At this point, Silewei sighed and closed his eyes, adding, "Unless we use the anti-gravitational system to tweak the gravity profile of this new planet, this planet is inhabitable, but that will take several hundred years… May God bless us."
After the program finished, the human race at large was crying, some even attempted suicide. Of course, with the advancements in medicine, none of the suicide attempts were successful. However, they had committed a great sin. Under the human government law, suicide was as heavy a crime as rape, it was just below than homicide.
Under such a negative and despairing environment, the HE Research Center made an announcement. With the improvement in technology like genetics, the human strengthening project had been completed…
All the normal bodies would be able to achieve the level of superhuman (at least by old Earth's standards) in the next 10 years!
After the strengthening, the Homeward Planet with its 1.7 times old Earth's gravity…
Would be habitable!
Instantly, the human society erupted in feverish cheers!


Endless sky and infinite space, the cosmos isn’t some paradise waiting to be found, it is full of darkness and danger, death and terror of the great unknown. However, for that glittering swath of blue, we have no fear! For the longevity of men, we have no regrets! Nothing shall stand in our way because it is finally our time, our age! The age of cosmos exploration! 


"Today, we honor those who have given their life in duty. Their bravery and commitment has given us all pause, and will forever burn them into our hearts. Thus, we entrust our comrades to the waves. Able Seaman Pehrsonn, shipwright Alyn..."

As Bas counted off all the fallen from the last combat, Atau looked over the bodies covered in rough cloth. In the end, their losses had been far more than he could have ever imagined. Six men had died as they tried to cross past the enemy vessel, a failure Atau would never forget. He would carry their souls together with those of all the other men he had failed in his time as a captain.

Around the barred up dead stood their crewmates, their heads held low. Maybe a third of them were Ekuo's watchmates. Their hands still held the brandy they had been promised for Ekuo's success, the brandy he himself would never have a chance to taste. For the moment, morale was terrible. Of course it would be. Funerals were never nice, but they would be even worse for a Yaku like Ekuo.

With worry, Atau watched as two of his crew stepped up to sew shut the cloths before the burial.

"Wait!" the captain shouted. Confused looks in their eyes, all the men turned to him.

"How will he fight with his body bound like that?" Atau asked, as if it was natural. Although the men looked at each other in confusion, no one had the courage to ask the captain for the meaning of his cryptic words. So Atau would have to explain himself.

"As a Yaku warrior, Ekuo will have to battle the underworld right below our feet if he wishes to reach paradise. Don't seal up the bag. It's what he would have wanted." Another of the newest ghost members on his ship added.

Although they didn't understand, the other men had come from all corners of the massive Arcavian continent. Everyone was used to each other's strange habits. After all, an average ship's crew had almost as many cultures as men in it.

While the other men believed in all sorts of ghosts and gods, among the dead only Ekuo was a Yaku. Like any other Yaku, he would hope to be barred up underground until decomposition. However, this sort of handling wasn't possible on the high seas, where the body would rot and fester to spread disease among the crew. They had to dump the body, and Ekuo would be left to fend for himself as he made his way through the depths of the underworld and into the afterlife among the stars.   

Atau's grip tightened around the wooden handle of Ekuo's axe. It was a beautiful piece, as expected of a real Yaku warrior. Great balance, sharpness and weight, polished to a brilliant shine. Now it had lost its master.

With the slow movements of a priest at a ritual, Atau opened up the cloth above the dead warrior's face. Just as he had in the aftermath of the battle, he stood before the body battered by the enemy fire. Although Ekuo had been spared the misfortune of a direct cannon hit, his actual fate might have been worse. When the cannons had crushed through the hull, splinters had shot all over the warrior's body.   

His cause of death was obvious: An especially large piece of wood, broken off in the form of a stake, had lodged itself into his face below Ekuo's right eye socket. Somehow, Atau was reminded of a plug, and wondered what happened if he pulled it. Even the seasoned captain's stomach churned upon the thought, even more when he considered his own role in the sailor's death.   

To get it over with, he opened up the cloth up to Ekuo's chest before he stepped back. Like this, the warrior wouldn't be defenseless.

After everything had been readied, The crew mates who had held the needles carried the cloth and body over to the ship's starboard side. With a splash, lookout Ekuo went on his last journey. Throughout the entire process, the captain's eyes never left his fallen crew.   

Only now did Atau look around again. When he did, he realized the lookout's watchmates still held their brandies in their hands. Without a word, the first of the men marched over to the waves, before he poured the drink into the water with his left and formed the wheel of Arcavus with his right.

Once the ice had been broken, the men came ahead one by one, to pay their respects to their fallen comrade. Everyone gave their comrade something along on his journey. Silent, the captain raised the weapon he still held in his hand, to inspect it in detail. Of course, after Ekuo's death his axe would return into the possession of the warrior's master, back to Corco. By all right, now it was no longer Ekuo's.

*Laqhis won't mind,* Atau thought as he stepped up to the balustrade.

With a splash, the axe followed its master into the depths of the sea.

"Now he's got booze and an axe. What more could a man want on a journey?" he mumbled.

__________________________

Once all the men had been buried at sea, the survivors resumed their journey north, or at least they tried to. Ropes squeaked and moaned as they they spanned the distance between the Homeward and the Sparrow's Flight, another ship of their fleet. Like an sleigh, the Homeward needed to be pulled along. Although it felt like an insult to her, there was nothing Atau could do about it.

They had managed to stem the tide and plug the leaks below the water line, but the enemy cannons had still ripped through their walls like paper and taken all those men with them in the process. Even worse, the enemy's second, final salvo had hit when they had been halfway past the Homeward. Their position and angle had caused a hit square in her rudder.

"Looks like our plans might have to change again." Atau mumbled. Before him, there was a buzz no less busy than the one he had seen right before battle. However, this time the men were busy trying to repair all the damage that had been done. The enemy's cannon balls had fired all the way through their hull and even damaged the main deck. Meanwhile, their grapeshots had mangled their sails. Like a miracle, at least the main mast and the keel had remained unharmed, but the Homeward would need support from the rest of the fleet until they could dock and repair the damages.

"Captain, we won't sail back into Porcero?" Bas asked.

"If we were in better condition it wouldn't be a problem, but now we're in trouble. We can't turn south and go for Port Ulta since there's still a fleet of Bornish behind us. At the same time, we can't sail back, because we just don't know how many of their ships might wait for us in Porcero. Damn it!"

Just before his fist hit the wood of the balustrade, Atau caught himself. Soft and gentle, his hand landed on the tormented wood. She had already suffered through enough for today.

"Why would I be this arrogant? I thought that was Laqhis' strength," he mumbled again. Before Bas could ask what he meant, a sailor's shout interrupted their conversation.

"Captain, here's one of the cannon shots, just like you asked!" The man brought a heavy ball of iron up to the command deck. After the battle was over and the men buried, Atau had asked his crew to search for the enemy cannon balls. After all, they hadn't just fired grape shot, the enemy had fired just about anything they could find. If they analyzed their ammo, they could learn much about their enemies. They would need to. Before Bas could take the ball, the captain had already moved over and taken it for himself. With a frown, he weighed the iron in his hand.

"That's at least five pounds," he said and threw the ball over to Bas. "No wonder they managed to break the Homeward."

Just before it sank to the floor, the lieutenant managed to regain the power in his arm and pushed against the force of the thrown iron. "They're using heavier cannons," Bas stated, wide-eyed.

"Yeah, those cannons of theirs are at least five pounders. I've been stupid, doing the thing Laqhis does all the time. Since we haven't been using any heavier cannons so far, I assumed the Bornish would be the same, but they've leaned a lot since we last fought them. They probably don't have a lot of those heavy cannons yet, but the sea just got a whole lot more dangerous."

"So we can't return to the port," Bas concluded.

"Now less than ever. Since they have heavier cannons, that even means we got lucky in our fight." A bitter smile flowed around Atau's face.

"Lucky!? But if we had known about their power, we could have returned fire and destroyed them without trouble. After all, their ship was in terrible condition! We would have never lost as many men had we been allowed to maneuver around them!"

"That's why I said we were lucky. Since they have larger calibers, they'd also have more range. We were lucky that the terrain forced us so close together, and that they were on their last legs already. In an even battle on the open sea, we would be at even more of a disadvantage. We would be chasing their shadows while they could bombard us from distance."

As understanding dawned on Bas' face, all color drained from it.

"So what do we do?" he asked. Atau decided to take the cannon ball back before his shocked subordinate dropped it.

"First, we need to set course for someplace else. Somewhere the Bornish would never expect:" Atau looked north, beyond the horizon. "Let's go pay a visit to an old acquaintance. Bas, tell the fleet to change course North north east. We're headed for the bronze coast."

__________________________

When he had been visited by Taquais, Brym had been confused, even more so after he was told that Lord Saliena had called for his presence at the harbor. Normally, the lord of Porcero wouldn't call anyone, even less so on such short notice. Most of all, the lord would almost never wander into the commoner's quarters of the city. As someone who despised the fishermen and merchants of his empire, how could he ever deign come close to them? Only when Brym had seen the ships along the port of the city did realization dawn on him, even more so when he had seen the flags of Cahlia and Borna.

"Lord Herak, please meet young warrior Brymstock di Pluritac. As King Corcopaca's local administrator, in charge of the southern kingdom's goods, he oversees much of the trade in my little port town."

With large steps, the tall lord of Porcero walked towards the stubby Brym. By Saliena's side walked a man very much his equal in physique. However, the rough leather clothing and shiny bronze mask which covered the upper half of the duke's face equipped him with a menace the well-manicured Lord Saliena could never hope to match.

"Yes, we know each other quite well." Although Herak's eyes could not be seen beneath his mask, his smile had turned into a terrifying grin. In contrast, Brym retained his own mask. With his usual smile, he stepped forward and stretched out his hand.

"Duke Herak, what great fortune for us to meet again so soon. I hope we can cooperate well in the future, just like we have done in the past! If there is anything you wish to know about the local customs and the local geography, please do not hesitate to pay a visit to our little shops. Of course, you will be welcome to stop by even without a reason. Everything for an old friend."

While they spoke, Herak held on to Brym's hand, and the bear of Borna began to squeeze. Like his namesake, he showed off his inhuman strength. Although he was a cultivator of many years himself, a biting pain ran up Brym's hand and into his arm. Even so, he remained calm as he finished his little speech of fakery.

"Sure, young man," Herak said at last. "I am very interested in everything your master has built here."

As the local lord looked back and forth between the two Bornish, Herak's grin became wider.

"Ahaha, we will do whatever we can to accommodate Lord Herak. After all, now we are in the home of House Pluritac. This time, we should strive to be as hospitable as Lord Herak was back in Borna."

With a scoff, Duke Herak released his hand at last.

"Lord Saliena, although I have spent much time at sea, I really dislike the smell of seaweed and merchants in this place."

For a second the lord looked over to Brym, before he turned back to his new guest.

"Ahaha, yes, they are quite the plague, though occasionally useful. Please follow me to Ceros Castle. I am sure there is much common ground for us to talk over."

Ignored by all lords and servants around him, Brym massaged his pained hand and looked after the two figures. As he thought over his situation, he was reminded of one of his big bro's common saying.

"Well... shit."

A prince sent into exile, without the means to fight back.

A young man trapped in an unfair world, without the status to bring about change.

Combined, they will have both means and status.

Armed with advanced knowledge from a strange world, will Prince Corco be able to cut through the injustice, regain his birthright and bring enlightenment to the country of his ancestors to create a paradise of true peace, equality and prosperity?

“Okay, first step: Let’s make some Brandy.”

…that’s a maybe then.

Hermit’s Note: My take on the kingdom building genre, which often suffers from weak characters, low stakes and contrived challenges. Buildup will be slow, with Book 1 focused on business managment, Book 2 focused on a battle for succession and only Book 3 getting into the depths of kingdom building. There’s plenty of inventions before that point though, so if you’re here for the clever use of modern tech you’ll find quite a bit to like even early on.

Updates three times a week.

If you want to support me and my writing endeavors (or you just want those side stories and advanced chapters), you can do so on patreon: https://www.patreon.com/hermitscave

Seeing that Shi Wuchen had not held anything back in launching his attack, Kong Luoyue rose to the challenge as well. His wrists flicked, the onyx Stealth Marker went up and down respectively and reflected each other's dark gleam; he seemed to have camouflaged himself, blending into the dark, creating a stark contrast against the spreading autumn sky.
The sight was like a ghost melting into the dark night, as natural as nature itself. There were only two ghoulish, glinting specks that seemed like the last embers of the night, blinking and flickering ceaselessly.
Then, Shi Wuchen sprung up with his sword shining in the air. A swathe of autumn chill cut the space open like a gushing waterfall, and as it landed, its speed triggered the wind of fall that billowed across the field.
Halfway through the technique, the sword light turned into an overwhelming autumn rain that showered the ring completely, becoming a wide-ranged mass attack.
There was a saying that real experts could along always tell the truth. The Demiurge-Flawed Ten, who were making noise about eliminating Shi Wuchen from the Nine Supremes, looked serious now that they saw this technique of his. They did not expect Shi Wuchen's swordsmanship to have developed to such an astonishing level, largely exceeding their initial estimations.
The sword intent was brimming. It was at this point that Shi Wuchen finally spoke, "Kong Luoyue, I'd like to see how many techniques of mine you can take on when you're so full of yourself about having a killer weapon. This is the first sword style of Dreary Misery, Enveloping Fall After Summer. I don't mind telling you, this form is called the Start of Autumn!"
Kong Luoyue maintained a straight face as he turned into a cloudy fog like a ghost, abruptly creating a hundred feet of distance between him and Shi Wuchen. Mist gushed as the two black glimmers of the Stealth Marker raced outwards, transforming into two high and low black rivers midway. The rivers were flowing rapidly, with turbulence chasing after water, and finally, they soared into the sky, blocking the autumn rain and wind like it was retaliating against them.
At the same time, a cold voice rang out. "The gate of hell opens, the river of darkness flows!"
The rising autumn vibes and the ghoulish fog intensified once more with two soft clangs. For an area of a hundred feet where the pair fought, the forces escalated, covering five hundred feet of space. There was even a green-robed silhouette that sprung up like a projectile.
It was Shi Wuchen, becoming one with his sword, charging towards the clouds with unnatural swiftness.
As Shi Wuchen's sword light shone across the sky, two dots of gleaming light chased from below; it was like two lights of hell that had never gone out flickering in the river of the underworld, looking more intimidating than it had before.
Everyone's attention was on the battling duo. They watched as the escalating sword light unfurled in the sky, turning into dots of stars and falling in a fan-shaped formation. The stars then transformed into a sky full of frost as they fell halfway through!
"Relentless autumn chills, raindrops, and frost! Take this form of mine, White Dew!"
The delivery of another tyrannizing attack caused the dark tidal river of hell to draw back. With a drawn-out howl, Kong Luoyue's dark form shot out like an arrow; he was avoiding the attack at an incredible speed but the two rays of chilling gleams in his hands spun instantly in countering Shi Wuchen's sword style.
"Look back from the Homeward Terrace in Hell!"
"Look back once more!"
"Take a step on the Homeward Terrace and look back thrice!"
The ghoulish Stealth Marker churned continuously and transformed once again into an upward flowing river of darkness. The water was tidal, accompanied by a massive cloud of fog. The overall aura seemed stronger than Shi Wuchen's autumn-styled sword forms.
As they spectated the match, Dong Qitian shook his head and Yun Yang frowned while the eight Demiurge-Flawed looked sympathizing. The winner could already be guessed from here as Kong Luoyue was already on the losing side.
Although the current situation was still stable for the pair, and Kong Luoyue even had a slight upper hand by doing a combination of three forms, what was the actual state of things?
Shi Wuchen had only executed two forms up to now, using Start of Autumn and White Dew of his Tri-Autumn swords art. He had yet to perform techniques in mid-autumn and depth of autumn. Yet, Kong Luoyue had already countered with four forms.
What was happening currently was one thing but Kong Luoyue was already in a passive state based on their individual skill repertoire.
This was discernible, not only to Dong Qitian and Yun Yang but the rest of the Demiurge-Flawed Ten as well, thus they had an approximate judgment towards the battle.
As was expected, Shi Wuchen's sword light flickered as it formed a siege from top and bottom. Immediately, there was another ray of chilling glint that tore out of thin air from the center and ambushed Kong Luoyue.
"Autumn that separates heaven and earth! Autumnal Equinox!"
The icy gleam birthed a sword that came from the flow between the heaven and earth; spearing through the air; not only had it pierced Kong Luoyue's thick fog, but it also went straight for his throat.
In spite of it, the flying sword had subtly halted all of a sudden right before it reached Kong Luoyue. The tip of the sword fell a centimeter lower, slightly missing the predetermined aim.
Kong Luoyue's crisscrossed Stealth Marker was gearing up for an attack, a frightening ghost head still in the process due to a lack of force, but the halt of Shi Wuchen's sword, a hair's breadth of tilt from its tip, gave him an opportunity. Kong Luoyue's eyes were shining as he took in a deep breath riding on the time he was given; the skull that was formed dissipated instead as he cried out, "Let's do this!"
The Stealth Marker welcomed the attack head-on, colliding against the incoming Tri-Autumn Sword in the most direct and explosive way. A boom could be heard, green cloth could be seen fluttering; Shi Wuchen tumbled outwards and landed softly while Kong Luoyue drew thirty feet back, wobbling, unable to gain his footing.
There was a sense of gladness that flashed across Shi Wuchen's gaze.
Kong Luoyue stabilized himself as he smiled bitterly, raising his head and announced grimly, "I've lost."
"You haven't used your Stealth Marker's needles. Won't you regret if you admit defeat?" Shi Wuchen asked after a moment of silence, to which Kong Luoyue replied angrily, "You can stop gloating. We know the match. Are you amazing now that you're a tiny bit better than me? So what if I used the Stealth Needles? So you get severely injured and I get killed?"
Shi Wuchen laughed. "Brother, this elder brother acknowledges your favor."
"Who wants your acknowledgment?" Kong Luoyue pouted.
As he spoke, the Stealth Marker that he had already pulled back to his grasp vanished with a flick of his wrist. He turned and walked back, talking loudly, "F*ck this, I lost! Yituo actually got so much stronger than before? This doesn't make sense!"
The rest of the Heaven-Demiurge Ten laughed. "Still criticizing Yituo now when you can't even defeat him!"
The group became rowdy with laughter and chatter.
A smile hung itself on Yun Yang's face, comfort filling him.
Shi Wuchen had undoubtedly taken the upper hand in the match. Everyone could see it. However, if they were to fight with their lives, Kong Luoyue might not be the losing one. Once he were to use the Stealth Needles, the worst-case scenario would be a heavily injured Shi Wuchen and a dead Kong Luoyue.
There would be another more probable consequence – both of them would die together!
Kong Luoyue gave up on his trump card that he had long planned for, the Stealth Needles, during the final moment when the result was decided. It could be said that he showed mercy, holding himself back. Yet, Shi Wuchen had also done the same in the last second, never fully launching his ultimate kill and pulling back his punches even earlier.


The drug is only poison if it doesn’t become medicine, the man perishes into ashes ultimately if he doesn’t become god!
The remarkably intelligent Supreme avenges the empire’s vengeance and personal grudge. Firm and unyielding, tender and kind, he is tangled in love, resentment, good, and evil. The unparalleled divine art quashes the world’s injustice while the unwavering loyalty weaves eternal brotherhood.
The heaven’s way is flawed, the humanly world lacks justice;
Evil runs rampant in the worldly realm and in the ethereal world;
I mourn for your kindness, I rage for your indifference;
Beyond where the law rules, I shall perform the execution.
Subdue the world by martial force, the injustice shall be exterminated;
I yield the saber in my hand, I carry the passion in my heart;
My love nestles in my embrace, the treacherous rests under my blade;
The world is overseen with nonchalance, there is no more regrets in this life.

Squeals of excitement from the little puppies she saw last morning woke her as she looked around, innocence and spirit fresh in the air. The sunlight did not defeat the cold, but a pleasant weather evinced the harmony of the heat and frost.

People walked about cheerfully, many into the café, the tiny canines frolicking around them in invitation. Some would bend down and scoop them up while others gave them treats or mildly entertained their presence. It was evidently past noon –an hour of engagement and lunch.

The events of when she was last awake were still vivid in her memory as she smiled her fragrance down upon her neighbourhood.

An ingratitude of little children, dressed in similar attire, that walked down the side of the street took possession of her attention, some holding hands while others hummed an unfamiliar, blithesome tune. A boy, who seemed like he had just attained his teenage years only recently, led the lot, being older than the rest, as if an invisible belt of responsibility had bound his concern to the younger children. A plump woman of about two decades in age, with an infant in her arms, followed this little assembly like she was making sure none of them was lost.

An older woman, a bystander for precision, seemed to have engaged her in small talk while the children walked on, led by the lad. The young man who had taken the little pups earlier, the probable proprietor of the café in the perception of a silent beholder gazing for the past few days, stepped out and smiled cordially to the children, holding the glass door framed by dark wood open to receive them. Shepherding the little ones inside, the boy called to the merry lady and interrupted her jolly conversation, "Mom, are you coming?"

With a jolt of unintended acknowledgement, she lent the lady a brief nod coupled with a pleasant smile before hurrying over to the join the rest of her little family, a hand reaching to sweep a few strands of hair behind her ear as she walked indoors.

Odd. In the fleur's observation of the families that walked by, most children bore a striking semblance with their elders, or at least shared the same tone of skin. This peculiar family had no such, each child a different colour, a discrete kind, save the satin garments they all wore and a bond of affection that wove them in unison, like an unseen covenant that could not be shattered by anything that wasn't hate or spite.

The flower continued, her curiosity kindled, as she bowed to watch what would betide within the walls of the café with such delightful company, through the large glass window which revealed the contents of the bread-place, tempting passersby to rest therein.

Tea and cookies, cupcakes and jam, bread and cream, delicacies that would rouse hunger in hearts at their very mention were distributed in jolly spirits as a calming and light-hearted pleasantness seemed to fill the warm place like the robust aroma that comes with caffeine.
Fairy lights adorned the walls as climbing plants along a balcony, in shapes that would be forged at the wake of some talented ice-skater dancing across a frozen rink. Pictures of food or menus of the homespun dishes decorated the walls causing a display that proved artistry rivalling modesty, a blend that rendered a cozy ambience.

The sight of children laughing like the scars of their past bore no shackles on their present mirth was a merry indeed and the happy flower enjoyed the amusement as quiet conversations made between bystanders on the street reached her abstracted attention:

"Ermengarde is still young..."

"She enjoys adopting the orphans..."

"They're all such angels though!"

"Did you hear about the new child?..."

"Oh, such a sad past..."

The voices grew fainter and fainter as she was slowly reclaimed by the weight of her weakness, but managed to watch, with fading consciousness, till the guests at the café headed homeward, happiness in their hearts and food in their stomachs, gifts from the young man running the Coffee Place tucked in their possession. Then Delirium spread her grace over the senses of the bluish bloom till they were lost in the ocean of a dreamless sleep.

~
Her cognisance mildly surfaced when she heard the quiet gruff voice of an old man sounding, with a whiff of the mysterious, yet familiar scent that always brings with it, the dark of the night.

"...never seen one like you before... though you look weak... I can't tend to you, you're a wild thing... blooming around a time like this..."

The sound of his chuckles perturbed her rest and she daintily woke to pay regard and found the man from earlier replacing the scented candles in the lamppost. Had he honestly been talking to her, a flower whose presence was eclipsed from human notice, reserved only for the attention of poetic hearts, for she wasn't of their kind, like she was his companion?

It touched her that she would be considered so. He conversed like she wouldn't respond, a soliloquy, but as an illusory audience, she felt like this old man had certainly brought lustre to her fleeting life.

The old man smiled as he dismounted the ladder he was on, wrinkles on his face testifying a collection of years and contentment. His breath emerged as clouds of warm mist against the freezing chill of the hour, audible heaves then muffles by the scarf around his neck that he drew to cover his nose.

The scarf around his neck...

A familiar design into which the coloured knit was braided together as a woollen scarf, bound to be affectionate enough to bring warmth to the shoulders that has bedecked itself with the dense fabric fashioned like a shield from the cold. She was sure she had seen it before, as if in a dream, left on the street for the man to take along with some food. A thoughtful gift from a mysterious donor laid by, last night.

When the man had descended and collected his belongings, there it was, yet again, a parcel of food with a tiny letter that bore a cursive font of his name. Glazed old eyes searched the place looking for the generous soul that had been granting this kindness upon his hunger, but there wasn't a shadow under the light he had just lit to testify the presence of anyone having left him the food. Perhaps an angel from above? Or an elusive human that evaded the praise for their compassion? It was more miraculous than sinister.

The single tear that streamed down his cheeks disappeared into the cuff of his thick sleeve that he has wiped it with, as the man walked away, touched by this glint of sympathy.

Resting happily, the flower gazed about the empty street as the old woman paid her nightly visit to the bench beneath the lamppost, the book from yestreen in her possession. The flower watched as she sat down and opened what looked like a collection of papers woven together into the make of a homespun book.
Grasping the Title on the face of the softback was not a pleasure granted to the blossom, but she watched as the lady opened to a fresh leaf after flipping through all those with text written into them. She pulled a quill that was tucked in her bun and began writing. The fleur could not decipher the words that were forged into sentences for there was distance between herself and the ink that spread itself into the shapes willed by the Author.

She yearned to know, to understand the stories that were illustrated into the leaves of the book, conceived in the mind of a human whose life was a symphony of such stories in itself.

She watched till the lady spent her night at the street, writing away into the book like she was designing stories that would come to pass. The light from the candle stood an unfaltering favour as she wrote and wrote, dipping her quill from time to time into the glass bottle of ink by her side till the earliest hues of the break of dawn spread themselves over the scene.
Rays of sunbeam pranced down, bringing with them tiny specs of dust dancing about in the grace of the light. A touch of magic had distinctly blended with the beauty that had spread its conquest over everything around her. Only a few spared regard to this pleasure, though.

Musing over the ambience, she slowly nodded to sleep, enchanted by this simple delight.

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