《Nero Walker (A Slow-Burn Litrpg)》 Prologue ¡°The soul alone is peaceful and doesn¡¯t require control. Our Mind and body are what impart emotions and can influence our soulscape. The body¡¯s interpretation of the world is given to the mind to evaluate and mirror onto the soul. A mind can be trained to interpret the body¡¯s signals however you want. So through our mind we can control both our body and soul. In short my child, stop thinking with your dick and don¡¯t be an idiot.¡± - God Emperor Nero to his 14th son when he found him battered, in his undergarments, and hanging from a wall sconce after hitting on a War Sister. I looked down and saw that I was rising from a body¡­ my body. As I rose, the world seemed to spin, and a thin gray haze replaced my surroundings with fog. Before long, all I could see was a cloudy expanse and I felt like I was spinning in a washing machine. I couldn¡¯t feel my limbs or close my eyes. If this was the standard post-death pickup, hopefully some disgruntled housewives would start a letter-writing campaign. Time passed and the fog darkened, transitioning into a void. From the darkness, lights started to come into view as the ambient haze faded away. I wondered if that was what I looked like, simply a little cotton candy ball that someone lit on fire. Some were larger than others, each a different hue. I¡¯m guessing that the one which looked blood red was a real asshole. The only white ones I saw were tiny, and I assumed they were probably just kids. Most were just a little off-white with different shades including blue, green, even pink. As I have no idea what that meant, and I couldn''t see myself, I let my focus move on and tried to see if there was anything else in the void. There wasn¡¯t. More time passed and nothing in my field of view changed. I wondered if I was supposed to be reflecting on my life or something. Giving it a try, I¡¯d guess about 10 minutes passed without anything changing. I had no real complaints, all my life''s hate was already vented on the internet, like it was supposed to be. With nothing to do, my mind wandered. I spent my time making up memes in my head. When that got old, I held mock debates with myself. Topics included whether or not vaping should have been considered smoking, and who was the best Doctor Who. In the vast expanse of the void, I came to realize a fundamental truth. There was nothing crueler than forcing someone to spend time away from their phone. Gradually, I noticed a change. My fellow light-balls and I started picking up speed and condensing into a stream heading upward. My sense of anticipation rose as the feeling of movement was like heading toward the top of a roller coaster. Looking up, I started to see several streams condensing into a river hurtling toward a giant glowing rift. I couldn''t help but think that this was a little too cliche, and any sense of excitement I had withered with the realization that after death you really saw a ''bright light''. Now in a stream, we were beginning to bunch up. I felt like I was on a subway with everyone¡¯s shoulders pushing into my personal space. Since I didn¡¯t have a body, I couldn¡¯t do anything to alleviate the discomfort. I wasn¡¯t freaking out, I was just pissed that people were still annoying me even after I was dead. Apparently being dead was like being really stoned, all muted and fuzzy, while the world around me was moving too fast. I felt like I finally understood the ¡°Grateful Dead¡± stoner lifestyle. OK, here we go. I was coming up on the main river. This was like when I was learning to drive and I had to merge onto the highway for the first time. Surprisingly, I was pretty stoned then too. Yep, there was the repressed panic in my gut, along with the feeling of ''fuck it'', and then I was barreling in while hoping for the best. I fought to influence my flight and ''leaned'' into the merge. My mind seemed to clear a bit of its fuzziness, yet not as much as I had hoped. Worse yet, speeding forward worked a little better than I intended, and I went right through the river. As the river was huge, I had figured I would have been swept into it, but since taking control of my flight I couldn¡¯t seem to feel the force of the river anymore. I felt something similar to panic since the cotton candy flame things were all over the place and I could no longer tell which direction was forward. Suddenly I shot out into the void, and I used my newfound maneuverability to instantly spin around and see the river continuing toward the light. Unfortunately, I¡¯d picked up some serious speed and was now heading farther away from the river and its destination. Without any better ideas, I put all my effort toward slowing down and reuniting with my fellow light-balls. I tried to angle my trajectory toward meeting them back at the light. Approaching from around 45 degrees off-center, I was once again heading toward the giant light. I figured I was back on track. Getting closer and closer, I saw that all the light-balls had merged into a solid beam of multi-colored plasma. Not going to lie, it was beautiful and held my attention longer than it should have. Eventually, I turned my attention back to where I was going, and looked at the light which now resembled a world-sized gateway. Within the light, I could see doors opened on the sides and the light was spilling out the front. Unfortunately, I couldn¡¯t exactly see what was on the doors as I was currently heading directly toward the flat edge. At first I was disappointed to miss out on seeing what was written, but then I realized that what heading toward the door actually meant. The author''s narrative has been misappropriated; report any instances of this story on Amazon. The feeling resembling panic returned, and I tried altering my course back toward the river. But I had gained too much speed, and my turning radius was no longer sufficient to alter my course. I¡¯d been picking up speed the entire time I had been staring at the soul river. Now, I felt like I was trying to turn a plane. Struggling was futile, as I could lean to swerve slowly, but not slow down to turn any quicker. In a flash of insight, I understood. Being an asshole and trying to take control of my merging without having to suffer traffic congestion, was probably ¡°fighting against fate¡± or some other such nonsense. These thoughts flashed through my mind while I went headfirst into the edge of the door and careened off into the void. Lamenting on how that could have gone better, I resigned myself to having to swing around for another pass. After finally stabilizing my flight, I looked back at the door and found myself completely confused. I could see that there were now multiple doors, with multiple rivers, being fed by multiple streams. The more I looked around, the more doors I saw. Thousands upon thousands of them, and they all looked the same. At least now that I was looking at them from angles, I could see that there were different designs on each of them. The sheer scale of what I beheld was amazing. I could see them all clearly. It was like I could see infinitely far, with perfect clarity, until my sight line found something in the void. It took some time to get a handle on my new perspective. The void I had been in was now gone, and in its place was a sea of doors. Each river heading into a door was formed from nothing. I couldn''t see where they began. It was as if they just appeared out of nowhere, only to end in a door. It was like a never ending sea of umbrellas. And as I pondered on the infinity of existence, I realized I had lost my door. This was an unfortunate development, which had me spinning around, looking for an information kiosk. Without any other options, I floated around making sure that I didn¡¯t get too close to any lights, while looking closely at the doors in order to see if I could recognize anything. Each of the doors had weird sculptures and designs with fantasy themed images. Well, they weren¡¯t all fantasy-based. Some of them were covered with tentacles, and those I stayed far away from. I even noticed one or two with bird themes. Others had flowers, trees, cogs, symbols, and numerous things I couldn¡¯t even begin to recognize. While some of them were so abstract that I had no clue what I was looking at. But as I had never actually ''seen'' my door, I remained completely lost. Yet, among my many virtues was patience. I took great pride in my ability to stand in front of a Chinese restaurant menu and look at every single dish while slowly deciding which one I felt like eating that day. With that being said, I never picked anything fancy and almost always ended up with broccoli beef. While floating through the infinite expanse of doors, completely lost, I realized that I was eventually going to go through a door with fantasy crap on it. I had played tabletop games too many times to NOT go through a door with elves, dwarves, and dragons. Even if I were 100% sure that I would get eaten immediately, I mean, come on¡­ magic and stuff. It was inevitable, just like broccoli beef. The first gate I saw that fit my desired theme had a bunch of races, and it seemed like it had some kind of tier-system as a bonus. I wondered if that meant there was a leveling system? We had a winner, and all that was left was me figuring out how to get there. Slowly lining up my path to head into the door, I made sure to maintain my distance from the soul stream. At the time, it just didn¡¯t seem important to force myself into the crowded path while we were all going to the same place. In retrospect, I¡¯m guessing that¡¯s why my experience was so unique. Taking my time, I floated through the planet sized doors into what was another door filled expanse. Below me, I watched as the soul stream immediately passed through a large ring and lost all of its color. Now a solid white, it started to break apart. Unraveling like a rope, each new stream headed toward its own much smaller door. I, however, floated on my own and just watched the process with cautious interest. Rather than picking a stream to follow randomly, I circled around to take a look at the doors and see what was on them. Maybe I could pick my race, or had some other choice I could take advantage of. As I got closer, I saw a door with beast type people on it. Some of them were wolf-like, others panther-like. All on one door, which I dubbed the ¡°Beastman Door¡±. Refusing to come to a quick decision, I checked the other doors. It took forever, but I saw doors for insects, arachnids, cows, etc. All of their streams seemed really dull looking. Apparently being non-sentient made you less bright. I spent a few seconds trying to decide if all of this was some kind of cosmic pun. Finally I saw it. THE door. A dragon door. Not even bothering to look around any more, I pointed myself forward and charged through. Well, I tried to go through. The stream heading into it was very bright. It was like a solid bar of liquid sun. Apparently I wasn''t bright enough, and I bounced off the door like I went headfirst into a gym wall covered with an impact mat. Although it didn¡¯t hurt, it was extremely embarrassing. I wasn¡¯t qualified to be a dragon. I could take a hint. Chagrined, I resumed my perusal of the doors. After I couldn¡¯t go in the elven door either, I realized I might be in trouble. What if my assumption about how the doors worked was wrong? What if I couldn¡¯t go through the doors, not because of my race, but because I was from a different universe? Could I get back through the big door? Luckily, I was just over-thinking things because I went through the human door just fine. Surprised that it was so easy, I looked around excited for my next choice. But, all I saw was a giant ball of light that dwarfed the stream next to me. It seemed to exert a pull on me. Holding myself back, I watched the stream head toward it. After looking around for a while, I came to the conclusion that there didn¡¯t seem to be anything else on this side of the door. At this point, I figured there was only one way forward, so I let myself get pulled toward the light. It seemed to take longer than I¡¯d thought it would to get pulled in. And the closer I got, the bigger the ball of light became. It just kept getting bigger, but I kept getting closer. Finally it was so big, all I could see was light surrounding me. For the first time since I had become a flaming light-ball, I started to feel pain. Starting off as a sunburn, it grew until I felt like screaming. And all at once, everything went black. Chapter 1 - A road to probably not nowhere I jerked awake as if I woke up from a zombie dream. Like a leg being asleep, my whole body tingled. My head hurt, my bones hurt, my joints hurt¡­ you get it. I rolled over groaned, prompting a dizzy spell. Then the memories hit me. ¡®What the fuck.¡¯ I was no longer dead. Now that I had a body, the delayed panic hit me like a truck. I screamed at the top of my lungs as my entire being shook with pain. All around me I heard barking and dragging. As my senses calmed down I looked around to see bodies and gear being picked through by wolves. It seems when a dead body comes back to life and starts screaming; wolves who were previously happy eating their meal, freak the fuck out. There were four wolves who ran back and two more who lowered their heads and growled. As a former dog lover, and avid nature channel aficionado¡­ I had no idea what to do. I slowly stood up and looked around. I was encircled by confused and hungry wolves. Well, judging by the bodies around me, they didn¡¯t seem that hungry anymore. There were several busted wagons and crates were spilled about. Some bodies had armor and were filled with arrows, others simply dressed in typical ¡°commoner¡± garb. So it seems the wolves didn¡¯t kill everyone here, they were just scavenging. Do wolves scavenge like that? Maybe I didn¡¯t watch enough nature channel. As I didn¡¯t seem to be hostile, the wolves slowly started to drag bodies to the woods away from the road. A road! I¡¯m on a cleared road with packed dirt. That means civilization. And dead bodies, especially dead bodies with arrows in them, mean people. As we all know, wherever there are people, there is someone else nearby trying to ruin their day. While these thoughts ran through my head, I kept an eye on the two wolves watching me, standing vigil while their brethren dragged away their meal. Leaving them to their dinner, I slowly made my way toward a carriage with the doors open. I really hoped this wasn¡¯t a horrid sight with a princess that I was going to have to avenge. Dead bodies of people killed in a war I could handle, but some things I¡¯m just not ready for. Peeking inside I see one male in fancy clothes lying down in the middle and two fancy dressed women with what looked liked sword-type stab wounds on their chests. OK good¡­ well not good¡­. But not as bad as it could have been. ¡®Yeah, that¡¯s what I figured dead bodies smelled like.¡¯ I dragged the bodies out of the carriage as the wolves eyed me from about 10 feet away. It was creepy how they just stared at me, ready to respond to any hostile act. I know dogs are smart, but that¡¯s just unnecessary. Once the bodies were out of the cabin, I got in and closed the door as best I could. Looking out through the window, it seemed that did the trick. The remaining wolves backed away. It annoyed me how they seemed to strut. ¡®From now on, wolves are on my shit list.¡¯ ¡®Now let¡¯s review.¡¯ I died falling out of my shower because I was too lazy to put a bath mat down. Then I went through what seems like some kind of reincarnation cycle, which I fucked up. Picked a door that looked interesting. Ignored the soul cleaning circle of ¡°whatever¡±. Then got burned by a big ass bug zapper. Woke up here, in what appeared to be a recently dead body. ¡®Crap, this body was dead.¡¯ I looked down and tried to take stock of my condition. There are some bloody holes in my crappy commoner shirt (which smells like shit by the way). It seems that the wounds scabbed over, so I¡¯m not bleeding. ¡®Do I feel OK?¡¯
Name Unclaimed Level 1
Race Human Growth 2%
Tier 1 Condition 87%
Age 14 Center 100%
Body 0 Mind 0
Soul 0 Confluence 10 If you find this story on Amazon, be aware that it has been stolen. Please report the infringement.
¡®Huh!?!¡¯ I guess I was right about this being a leveling world. No name, level 1, tier 1, and I¡¯m now a kid again. Growth, Condition, and maybe Tier 1; I could make guesses about those. A bunch of stats, some of which I recognize. ¡®What the hell is Confluence?¡¯ Regardless, this means that I took some kid''s dead body, but at least I¡¯m alive. Let¡¯s be honest, he wasn¡¯t using it anymore anyway. ¡®Have I always been this blase about death? I guess going to the other side solidified my belief in the after life, and my long held belief that bodies are just window dressing like the good Buddhists believe. Or was it the Daoists? Oh my god, now that I don¡¯t have the internet, I will never know.¡¯ It¡¯s weird that until just now it hadn¡¯t hit me that I was really in another world. In another body. Because I DIED. And how crappy a death it was. Spending a few minutes with my eyes closed and focusing on my breathing, I got myself back into a head space where I could start figuring this out again. ¡®So if I¡¯m in a world with a stat menu, then I should have a skills menu too right?¡¯
Skills Active Listening 0.8
Adaptability 1.5
Administration 0.3
Advocacy 0.4
Analysis 2.1
Assertiveness 1
Attention to Detail 2
Etc¡­.
Okay, so apparently it lists every damn type of skill a person could have. I looked through pages and pages of skills, all of which were below 10. ¡®I¡¯m surprisingly good at charades¡­ huh.¡¯ There needs to be some way to narrow this down to special skills or something. Oh, that was easy.
Skills None N/A
¡®Yeah that¡¯s about right.¡¯ As I stared at the empty skill menu, I thought about how simple my life used to be. Apparently, there didn¡¯t seem to be anything special about managing a cell phone store in a strip mall. Although, my focus probably shouldn¡¯t be on my skills, but on why I¡¯m not at 100% condition. I guess I¡¯m a little sore. Also a little hungry, and I could use a shower. ¡®Wait¡­. Showers better exist here.¡¯ I should take a look around and see what I can scavenge for myself. Maybe I can figure out what the hell happened here. It¡¯s been a few minutes, the wolves are probably eating or at least not around any more. ¡®If the great saint Murphy is here in this world I¡¯m gonna be pissed.¡¯ Stepping out of the carriage, I almost stepped on the bodies I had pulled out earlier. Watching my feet as I stepped over them, I held in the cringe of disgust at the brutality. Looking around there was a long line of carts and wagons, maybe 15 or 20. Some were broken, all of them had some damage. Arrows were lodged sporadically. There were ripped coverings, and blood was splattered across the sides. Each and every one of them seemed to be looted. I could see footprints and drag marks leading off into the forest. Also, the bodies were all facing up. Once I realized that, I froze. They must have all been searched for valuables. Upwards of 100 people, all dead and systematically cleared of valuables. I couldn¡¯t seem to wrap my head around the absolutely clinical barbarity. The bodies weren¡¯t disfigured or cruelly treated. All of the horror seemed methodical. I walked through the massacre, but couldn¡¯t bring myself to really check for loot or anything. Somewhat in a daze, I stopped to look up into the cloudy sky and took some breaths to try to get myself into a clearer head space. Perhaps I would have handled it better if I was in the army, or saw some tragedy in my life up until now. Unfortunately, my brain seemed to be treating this like it was one of those fantasy shows I used to stream. The bodies smelled, but they hadn''t been there for long, so they weren¡¯t rotting. ¡®This is starting to catch up to me.¡¯ I spent a few minutes building up to a panic attack. Then, another feeling started to slowly rise from my gut. I was annoyed, and a little ashamed. This was like the first time I got a flat tire. At first I felt terrified, but then my stubbornness fought back against the emotional interruption. ¡®Fuck it! This is MY world now. Don¡¯t overthink. Live in the moment and take things as they come. I didn¡¯t let fear take control in my old life, I¡¯m not starting my new life as a little bitch.¡¯ I thought to myself. ¡®Breathe in¡­ Breathe out.¡¯ As I mastered myself, like I did back in high school when I played football (don¡¯t be impressed, I was resoundingly unimpressive), I heard the clatter of horses in the distance. Looking toward the front of the caravan I saw a group of riders in what looked like medieval steel plate with bright blue tabards. ¡®Blue is good, the good guys always wear blue. Now I just need a justifiable reason for being alive and surrounded by dead bodies while I have a shirt covered in holes and blood, but suspiciously without wounds. No problem, good guys are always trusting.¡¯ Chapter 2 - Questions should have answers. The approaching soldiers rode 3 wide and went back pretty far. I guessed there might have been 25 of them or more. They split along the sides of the wide, packed dirt road and continued in single columns at a trot down both sides of the caravan. They adeptly avoided bodies while both looking at the trees and the dead. The soldiers were speaking softly to each other, their horses and armor only adding to the prevailing cacophony. The noise was loud enough that I couldn¡¯t help my eyes from darting around while I calmly kept my hands out to the side, palms up, seeming as innocent as I could. Riding up to me, the lead three soldiers (knights?) stopped within a few meters. ¡®Damn, those are some big-ass horses.¡¯ I thought. ¡°Boy! What happened here?¡± The leader demanded in a clear and deep voice. He sounded exactly like an annoyed cop that showed up at the aftermath of a bar fight. Apparently, this scene didn¡¯t shock him as much as it shocked me; and I thought the emotionally muted haze I had going on was bad. ¡®Ouch! What the hell was that?!?¡¯ My head spiked in pain, making me wince. As quickly as the migraine came, it left. ¡®Probably a language download or something¡¯ I deduced through my extensive knowledge of this trope. I looked down and put on the most sincere grimace I could manage. ¡°This caravan was attacked while I was sleeping in one of the carts. I managed to hide from the looting while I heard them killing everyone. I don¡¯t know who did this. The noise was horrible. Screaming, crying, and shouting. It was fucking horrible. The moment I thought I was safe, I came out and switched shirts with one of the poor people killed. I was planning to pretend to be dead if they came back. Luckily you all showed up. Thank you for being here!¡± I tried to look relieved and still solemn. ¡®Nailed it!¡¯ The troops had made a perimeter up and down the road. There were definitely more of them than I thought, at least 50 of them. Most of them were in chain mail and those metal conical helmets. ¡®Were those thick shirts called hauberks?¡¯ I wondered. Looking around, about half of them had dismounted and started gathering the dead while searching the area. There were a few in fancier armor that were doing some sort of investigation on the arrows and tracks. It all seemed very professional and not at all what I¡¯d assume a simple dark ages investigation would look like. The leader opened the front of his helm by pushing it into the top of his helmet, as though THAT was totally normal. ¡®OK, that was freaking cool. I have no idea how that works.¡¯ I thought. His chin was sharp, defined like can opener, and had a close shaved beard. As he was on a horse, I had no idea how tall he was. Regardless, he looked intimidating as hell. I wondered if he would look as imposing if I weren¡¯t forced to look up at him. I caught the look in his piercing gray eyes. The answer was yes. ¡®I wouldn¡¯t match stares with that guy if I were behind a door and looking at him through a peephole while holding a bat.¡¯ Realizing that somehow the three horses have turned a little to block off my escape routes and they were all staring at me (even the freaking horses), I involuntarily shrunk a little. ¡°Blackwood! How much of what he just said was a load of horse shit?¡± The leader said as he stared at me blankly. Like a bolt of lightning, I realized my mistake. ¡®This is a world with magic and skills and whatnot. They probably have lie detector magic, and intuition skills, and other things I haven¡¯t even heard of.¡¯ I realized I might be in some serious trouble. ¡°Sir, everything he said was a lie. But it was weird. My skill felt no deception. A child can lie better than him. It¡¯s like he purposefully wanted us to know, without a doubt, that he was full of shit. I don¡¯t get it.¡± The man on the right said in a slightly younger voice, while still hidden behind his full helm. The man in charge just cocked his head slightly to the side and said, ¡°Well boy? What do you have to say for yourself?¡± I was so caught off guard by being called out so efficiently that I just stuttered for a few seconds. In a tight, but slightly louder voice, the leader demanded ¡°Young man, you WILL answer any and all questions I put to you. Otherwise, I WILL take my wasted time out of your hide. Are there any Gurs in these woods?¡± Confused, I stuttered ¡°G-Gurs? I don¡¯t know what those are. But I¡¯m pretty sure based on all the wounds to these people, and the arrows, that this was a raid of some sort. They didn¡¯t seem to mess with any of the bodies other than killing and robbing them. But that¡¯s really all I know.¡± ¡°Truth¡± said Blackwood. For the first time the three exchanged glances, freeing me from the icy stare of the leader. Silence stretched as they seemed to communicate without saying anything. My eyes kept bouncing back and forth between them as I rubbed my sweaty hands on my pants. ¡®What is that weird feeling in the air? It¡¯s like I can hear talking from far away outside a window.¡¯ ¡°You don¡¯t know who the Islangurs are?¡± the leader said to me with a pensive furrow to his brow. ¡°Um¡­ No sir. Or my lord?¡± I really need to shut up. I can feel myself sounding like an idiot. Why can¡¯t I have just said that I don¡¯t know anything and just got here. The internet always said to answer questions simply and ONLY answer what you were asked. The man in charge didn¡¯t seem to blink. ¡°I am Captain Angelton. Do you know where you are? And what is your name son?¡± Stolen from its rightful author, this tale is not meant to be on Amazon; report any sightings. A name, I need a name. Magic might have some true name bullshit or something. Every book I¡¯ve ever read went with some variation of gamer tag, so that¡¯s easy. ¡°I¡¯m Nero. Nero¡­. Um¡­. Walker?¡± I could FEEL them confirming that I¡¯m an idiot. I already knew that they could tell if I was lying. What the hell was the point of that. ¡°Alright Nero, where do come from? How did you join the merchant train? And once again, do you know where you are?¡± the leader asked, this time with a full on smile. He didn¡¯t even bother to ask Blackwood if I was lying. Before I was able to reply, Blackwood interrupted. ¡°He¡¯s telling the truth sir. His name really is Nero Walker. I sensed no lie, even though it¡¯s obvious he just made it up.¡± Stunned, I just looked at him with my mouth open. ¡®OK, I guess that¡¯s my name now. Wait! Stat sheet!¡¯ I mentally opened my status page to see if my name shows up.
Name Nero Walker Level 1
Race Human Growth 26%
Tier 1 Condition 91%
Age 14 Center 100%
Body 0 Mind 0
Soul 0 Confluence 10
Opening in my mind, I realized that it wasn¡¯t a hologram or in my vision at all. The interface was purely in my mind, and I had no issue with it being open aside from my attention being pulled to it. The moment I realized my ¡°growth¡± had gone up, I thought ¡®How the hell did I gain experience points?¡¯ I sensed a list waiting in my mind. I opened it to see all my itemized gains. Line after line of small increases in skills like Analysis, Identification, Tracking, Composure, Meditation, Focus, Essence Sense (what the hell is that), and even Lying. Mouth agape I just stared forward with what must have been the most bewildered expression of my life. One skill stood out in bright gold. Skill Gained ¨C Local Common ¡°The world has a voice, and all shall share it. From now on, you will KNOW why someone is trying to kill you.¡± ¡°Boy, did you just awaken?¡± said the leader with his amused, and confident smile with his hands now resting gently on the pommel of his horse. ¡®What the fuck is going on, this is NOT a leveling system I signed up for.¡¯ I was under the impression when I went through the soul-door thing that I would transmigrate into a baby and grow up in a nice family, or an orphan or something. ¡®I¡¯m supposed to have a protagonist journey damn it. Where is my six months of living on my own in the forest while I learn to hunt and master my skills to become some kind of chosen one!¡¯ ¡°Um¡­ yes. I think I awakened.¡± I replied with a sour look filled with repressed rage. ¡°You don¡¯t understand anything that¡¯s going on, do you?¡± the Captain asked with what was now an even wider smile. His two men have seemed to have raised their helms and were all clearly having a great laugh at my expense. They sat there with their smiles as wide as can be, and were not in any way wary anymore. My temper was starting to slip and I could feel the embarrassment turning my face red, which just made it worse. I was failing miserably at my new life, and it brought back all the emotional trauma of the old one. In an instant, I KNEW what I was feeling and more importantly WHY. Like a cool breeze on a hot summer day, my emotions cooled. ¡®What the fuck do I care what these assholes think? Of course I¡¯m confused. I¡¯m not going to make the same mistakes I did before. I¡¯ll do better, every second I¡¯ll learn more. Eventually these (admittedly cool) douche-bags will look up at me. This world is my chance to become more than I was. I will seize my future in my hands and wrestle fate itself if I have to.¡¯ I swore to myself. It was like all the self-help, cringe, weeb culture that I had absorbed in my youth crystallized into one internal rant. Apparently, in this world, self realizations can actually happen. ¡°No Sir. I have no idea what¡¯s going on. I have no memories of joining this caravan. I just woke up a little before you all showed up and I was surrounded by wolves. I hid in that carriage ¡®till they left, then looked around for a bit. Then you all showed up. That¡¯s it.¡± I declared, while hoping that he had no more questions. The Captain rubbed his chin and asked ¡°But do you have any idea where you come from?¡± ¡°I just woke up here. I don¡¯t even feel like this body is mine. When I awakened I saw that I was 14, that¡¯s about all I know.¡± I replied while spreading my arms helplessly. ¡®Not any lies, technically.¡¯ Captain Angelton turned to Blackwood and asked ¡°Well?¡± ¡°Yup. Even the part about it being ¡°all he knows¡±. The poor kid has no idea what¡¯s going on. He is filled with confusion, but damn does he have a strong center. His psychic field is all over the place.¡± Blackwood chuckled. The Captain nodded to himself as if he had made a decision, then he straightened up in his saddle. Putting on an aura of command, he said ¡°Alright. Sergeant Blackwood, go see if Sergeant Williamson has found anything of use, and see if we have tracks. If so, send out Johnson and his squad to shadow them and find out where they lead, and see what¡¯s out there.¡± He then turned to the silent man on my left ¡°Borson, get the men moving. I want the dead collected with whatever goods that are left. Put them in whatever wagons are still functional and send 10 men to return with extra horses and tack and hitch them. Anything left over, I want off this road and cleaned up.¡± He paused and looked over to Nero ¡°Also have them bring an extra mount for the boy. I don¡¯t want to be here in an hour.¡± Both men replied with a crisp ¡°Yes sir¡± and turned their mounts to their duties. As they headed off, the Captain dismounted and walked his horse to the wagon I was standing near. He loosely tied it up and gave it a few pats then walked over to me. He was a big man, must be over 7ft. Wait, I¡¯m a kid. How tall am I? Maybe he was over 6 ft. Either way, He walked over in his full armor, wide enough to be confused for a tank. As I looked up at him, I thought about how great he would have done in the WWE, or as an actor for some streaming platform. ¡°Let¡¯s have a talk son¡± He said and put a large hand on my shoulder. I looked up and gulped. Chapter 3 - Receiving the facts of life from a stranger For Arch-mage Jennings, the past hundred years had been, in a word, ''dull''. While he enjoyed research, he had never been one to chase beasts, or fight in the mud like some moron too stupid to stay inside the walls. As such, it was through knowledge that he advanced, and his pursuit of the world¡¯s truths was unending. But now he was over a thousand years old, and with every passing year, he felt there were fewer things to learn. But today, something interesting has finally happened, and Arch mage Jennings felt invigorated. ¡°Did you feel it busting through the upper planes?¡± Jennings shouted over his shoulder into the hallway. He was in his personal scrying chamber, with various screens flashing in a semi-circle, his arms waving around frantically while he tried to trace the anomaly back to its source. Holograms depicting scrolling data were overlaid across a constantly changing views of ethereal clouds intermixed with brief images of lands. Pausing the search, he turned to the door that was 20 units away. ¡°Gods Dammit Mathers, if you don¡¯t get your ass in here in the next 30 seconds, I¡¯m going to flesh shape you into a sheep and stick you in a herd with an overly affectionate shepherd.¡± Jennings voice boomed out into the hallway. Enhanced with essence, his voice shook the walls. Finished with his threat, he returned to his investigation of the planes with utter focus. Coming into the room just as the Jennings turned away, Arch-Mage Mathers entered with his ears covered. He was a spry 550 and had long been accustomed to Jennings'' particular brand of wit. Slowing down from his quick walk, he smoothed his white beard, and looked at what Jennings was doing. ¡°I¡¯m here. Stop infusing essence into your insults and screaming them into the halls. People out there are working on projects that are actually useful. As it happens, I was working on how to increase the channel in the advanced targeted healing form. And besides, I don¡¯t want to have to sit through any more mandatory meetings on ¡®etiquette in the mage tower¡¯. Now what is it you are bellowing about?¡± Mathers asked, his tone full of repressed rage. Appearing to have ignored everything Mathers had just said, Jennings continued to work while speaking over his shoulder, ¡°Good. You¡¯re here. Did you notice it?¡± With a sigh, Mathers replied, ¡°Notice what?¡± ¡°You call yourself a mage and didn¡¯t notice it?!¡± Jennings snorted. ¡°Jennings, if you don¡¯t get to the point in the very near future, I¡¯m going to¡­ I¡¯m going to do something you won¡¯t like.¡± ¡°Good one,¡± replied Jennings. ¡°Now listen closely, there was an anomaly in the upper planes. It came through one of the reincarnation points, I¡¯m not sure what it is. I sent you the trajectory information and probable area of incursion. I need you to locate it. I have to see if the anomaly caused more of the origin to be revealed. ¡°There¡¯s been a planar incursion! You found a planar incursion as it was happening, and your first thought is to track its source!¡± Mathers clenched his fists as he yelled. ¡°Why didn¡¯t you just look at the damn thing, that will tell you where it¡¯s from.¡± ¡°I don¡¯t care WHERE it¡¯s from. I care what its journey has revealed. I¡¯ve traced its journey to a reincarnation point. Its been on quite the adventure. Look here,¡± he pointed to his display as a large bulb of light took up half the room. ¡°With this, I¡¯ve already confirmed several theories on how the soul is reintroduced into the prime material plane. You go find the anomaly, and we¡¯ll deal with whatever it is.¡± Mathers eyes were wide as nodded in astonishment. ¡°Of course. I¡¯ll let you know what I find.¡± Walking away, he shook off his sense of wonder, and focused on what was important. ¡°I¡¯m sure a planar fiend, or an extra-dimensional walker is simply not worth your time.¡± he muttered to himself while hurrying to his lab in order to find out the much more important details of this anomaly. ---------------- The Captain walked me over to the end of the cart then gestured for me to hop up. I obliged, and suddenly started to feel like a kid getting ready to receive the facts of life by my stern faced father. The captain started off his speech in a calm, quite tone while resting his hands on his belt. ¡°So since you remember nothing, I¡¯m guessing you had some kind of trauma or had a mental issue that was fixed by your awakening. Any of what I¡¯m saying seem familiar?¡± he asked. ¡°Nope. I don¡¯t seem to know anything about the world we live in. Do you mind giving me a general overview? Maybe some more information on awakenings?¡± I replied. He paused and looked up. ¡°Hmm¡­ honestly, I wish we had a Wayfinder here for you, but I guess I can give you a some general information.¡± Seeing my look of confusion, he sighed and continued ¡°Wayfinders are community servants that work at the Center. Look¡­ this is not what I¡¯m good at. Every group of civilized people, from a village all the way to a city, have a place where the people pool their knowledge and help each other grow. The Center is the core of our society. It has people that work for the community, and some of them are available to talk to and ask for advice. The Wayfinders are guides that help people grow and find their path.¡± ¡°Is that some kind of term for getting along with everyone or something? Like a home owner¡¯s association?¡± I asked with a frown. The captain snorted, ¡°What? No. People grow through their experiences. The path is about how someone uses their Confluence. It is about how well in tune your soul, mind, and body are. The better you control yourself, the better you can use your skills and abilities. And through use and reflection, you grow. Your center is directly related to how powerful you are, and how powerful you can become. Everyone wants to grow and it¡¯s easier to grow the more centered you are.¡± A light bulb turned on in my brain, and I held up my hand for him to pause. Concentrating, I opened my stat sheet. The author''s narrative has been misappropriated; report any instances of this story on Amazon.
Name Nero Walker Level 1
Race Human Growth 35%
Tier 1 Condition 92%
Age 14 Center 100%
Body 0 Mind 0
Soul 0 Confluence 10
So this is like some kind of personal growth chart. It''s annoying how much that makes sense, while also resembling a You-Tube video. Confluence, which is how ¡°Centered¡± you are. Maybe ''center'' is like their equivalent of mana or magic juice. I guess this is like how those monks back home spent all that time getting to know their ¡°inner peace¡±. However, in this world, finding that inner power has tangible benefits. ¡°So what is ''center''?¡± I asked. Seeing how I was paying attention again, the captain replied ¡°Your center is the core of who you are. You see the percentage in your identity? As you use abilities, or put yourself under stress, that number will go down. It will refill faster the more centered you are. You probably won¡¯t have to worry about it until you are at least level 10. Then you can choose your first pillar. Then you get a pillar at 50, then 100 and very few people get that far.¡± So if ¡°Pillars¡± are what I think they are, I won¡¯t be doing anything cool until level 10. ¡°So what is the average level for someone my age? And are pillars like talent trees?¡± I asked. He looked even more confused than before. ¡°You¡¯re a really weird kid, you know that? Everyone gets their identity on their 14th birthday, so you¡¯re fine at level 1. You seem really weak though, like all your skills are low. I don¡¯t know where you came from, but the Center there must have had some problems. As for Pillars, a talent tree is a really good way of thinking about it. You start at the base of the pillar and as you put in stars¡­ um¡­. Stars are the points you get when you level; then you gain more affinity or abilities in that pillar.¡± He casually gestured off to the side and a semi-transparent gold rectangle appeared to his left. ¡°This is a basic shield that comes from the Defense Pillar. There are other shields and other pillars but this one is pretty common¡± he said casually as he promptly dismissed it. ¡°Fuck yeah!!¡± I said, as I pointed with both hands at where the shield just was. ¡°That. That is what I¡¯m talking about. Full on magic powers. How common is that?¡± I asked with eyes full of greed and wonder. ¡°Ha Ha¡± the captain laughed. ¡°Abilities are everywhere. As for shields? Most people with some kind of protection type pillar will have one. And anyone with basic mage training will know how to summon one, even without a pillar specifically for protection.¡± As he said this, he turned toward his men and pointed out a few oddities. There were people using abilities everywhere, I just hadn''t been paying attention. Everyone seemed to treat it as normal, so it didn¡¯t draw any attention. Now that I actually LOOKED, I could see a few soldiers using some kind of telekinesis to pick up bodies and stack them in the back of some wagons. One guy was lifting a whole 10ft busted wagon with his bare hands. There was another guy that I¡¯m pretty sure was talking to a horse. ¡®So this is my new normal,¡¯ I thought. The Captain watched me become more amazed every time I noticed something. He went on to say ¡°Everyone gets some kind of ability at level 10, and most people pick up a spell or two. Magic is kinda hard and very few people have the free time to spend studying it. Not to mention that you need to have a powerful mind and soul to do much with magic. ¡°Usually just living your life will get you to level 10 by the time you are in your 20¡¯s. Growth becomes more difficult as you level. If you put in some effort to study and meditate, you could get to level 50 by the time you¡¯re 100. Most people¡¯s leveling speed falls off around level 30 or 40 unless you are focused and centered on growth. Put in the work and you could be level 100 by 100, as the nobles like to say. Only the elite are able to grow faster than they age. They are ageless in a way. Of course this all depends on you.¡± Did he just say 100, as in 100 years old? ¡°How common is it to live to 100?¡± I asked. Waving his hand like it wasn¡¯t a big deal. ¡°Unless you get killed by a beast, bandit, or some monster, most people live to 100. Stay in a city, you shouldn¡¯t need to deal with any of that. It¡¯s not that hard to get enough stars into your body and your confluence high enough to take advantage of your time. The big problem is that pushing for levels and developing your center is hard. It¡¯s not an easy life to focus on the climb. There is no way to avoid the personal aspect of the journey. You can¡¯t buy focus. You can¡¯t steal ambition. The world is large, and if you focus on the climb, you¡¯ll always be moving. It¡¯s a difficult life.¡± He finished the impromptu fortune cookie with a somber look on his face. It¡¯s rather interesting how power here is personal, while political power seems to be balanced away from the ¡°young master¡± stereotype. If some noble kid didn¡¯t get his shit together, he was never going to be ¡°centered¡± or whatever. That kid would probably be put aside for someone who was more powerful. I¡¯d have to see how the cities were organized, but if you can¡¯t buy levels; the people in charge will have trouble abusing the system. That brings up an interesting thought. I looked at the captain, who was patiently waiting as I worked through all he said. ¡°So what will happen to me? If I just awakened, I¡¯m assuming I¡¯m considered an adult. Are there any opportunities that I can take advantage of with absolutely zero skills and no history?¡± I asked. Nodding, he said ¡°When we get to town, I¡¯ll have someone take you to the Center. They¡¯ll know how to help you get your memories back, or at least point you in a direction. To be honest, I¡¯m not really good at this type of helping people. Usually my men and I are the avenging and preventing part of helping people. The army isn¡¯t intended for community outreach. That make sense?¡± He seemed a little embarrassed to not have a better answer. However, this suited me just fine. ¡°No problem Cap. You¡¯ve been a great help already. I have a thousand other questions, but they can wait for a Wayfinder.¡± I said, proud that I was starting to sound like I know what I was talking about. ¡°By the way, you wouldn¡¯t happen to have a spare set of clothes and any ideas as to how I can get this blood off me?¡± I asked as I held up my tunic that looked like a Jackson Pollock painting. The Captain laughed and walked over to his horse. ¡®I guess I¡¯ll be finding out the next step in town. One thing is for sure, I¡¯m going to be learning how to do that golden shield thing, and telekinesis, and whatever the hell else is available.¡¯ I thought. The men were still clearing the road and I watched closely as they did freaking MAGIC. I¡¯m going to learn it all. Seeing some horses grouped up, I realized that I don¡¯t care about talking to horses. In fact, that one over there is eyeing me like I stole his apples. Just as I turned back toward the captain, I was hit in the face with a bundle of cloth. ¡°Change into these. And most people can cast a basic cleaning spell on you.¡± The captain said as he turned away and started doing soldierly things. I had no shame and stripped on the spot. Maybe I could find someone willing to TEACH me a cleaning spell. Chapter 4 - Arriving at the Great Wall of Dorchester Captain Angelton walked toward Blackwood and Williamson, while keeping his eyes on the edge of the forest. ¡°Diligence is focus in practice,¡± he told himself, as he checked his sword for freedom of movement. ¡°Men! Report.¡± he interrupted them, as he walked up. The soldiers straightened up and saluted with an arm to their chests. The captain gestured for Blackwood and Williamson to come closer. He returned a quick salute to the rest of the men, and they returned to their business. In Williamson¡¯s hand was an arrow and a broken strap with a buckle. Showing the arrow to the Captain he said, ¡°It was the Gurs. No doubt about it. Looks like 30 to 50 of them. Small patrol, must have snuck past the front. I have no idea how they got this far North without anyone noticing. The scouts found the trail. It wasn¡¯t easy, but it¡¯s hard to hide a trail while they were carrying a lot of food and goods from the raid. We should find them before nightfall.¡± Williamson tossed the arrow and strap onto a pile of others and dusted his hands. Looking around he sighed and continued, ¡°This wasn¡¯t even a military convoy, these were just basic merchants and travelers heading to Dorchester. We found the manifest in the lead wagon. No persons of interest, or suspicious cargo. We even found the remains of everyone on the list. Well, some of them seemed pretty torn up by scavengers in the woods, but nobody seems missing. That just puts more stock on these being soldiers led by a knight and not bandits. I¡¯ve never seen a merchant train hit by bandits that didn¡¯t do a little kidnapping along with their reaving.¡± The Captain was looking around as he listened to the report. His sergeant¡¯s conclusions were justified, but worrying. ¡®This was too close to Dorchester. How did they get past the front and this deep into the Strates without anyone noticing. If this is the first we are hearing of them, then why hit this unassuming merchant caravan? What aren¡¯t I seeing?¡¯ he wondered. Looking at Williamson he said, ¡°We don¡¯t know if we¡¯re being pulled into a trap. When the scouts return with their report, send them right back out to do a sweep around the bandit camp, or wherever they are hiding. Something about this doesn¡¯t sit right. I want at least triple their number when we hit them. When we head back, I¡¯ll get the court mage to thoroughly scry the area, maybe there are other groups that are trying to draw out our numbers.¡± He then turned to Blackwood. ¡°What can you tell me about the boy. You find anything in the records?¡± Blackwood waved for him to follow, and walked over to a makeshift table filled with the records of the merchant train. Every bit of paper they could find was being searched with skills to deduce the history of the parties involved. He picked up a small ledger and handed it to Angelton. He pointed out an entry and said, ¡°Here is the boy¡¯s application for the train. He is listed as a guard banishment. Back in his home village of Oakleaf, he got into a feud with a local merchant over continuously stealing peaches. According to this, he didn¡¯t even need the food, just liked peaches I guess. His parents had enough when the village wayfinder and leader consulted them. According to this, they gave him a whooping and sent him to the merchant train guards so they could take him to Dorchester and sign him up for the guard. I guess they hoped he would get his annoying nature beat out of him in training. Doesn¡¯t seem to be a bad kid. However, there are a few things of note.¡± Shuffling some papers, he pointed out the boys picture. In the upper right corner of the page was a detailed drawing of the boy in full color that was done during intake with the merchant guard dispatch. They were always thorough, and it only took a few seconds to make a pretty accurate likeness of someone. Blackwood pointed out a few things, ¡°You can see that his eyes didn¡¯t used to be that weird pale blue he has, and his hair used to be brown. Even his age is off. He is supposed to be turning 14 in two months. We double checked if he is someone else, but the face matches, and everyone else is accounted for. I have no idea what happened. But I gotta tell you Captain, this kinda freaked me out.¡± Captain Angelton took the ledger with wide eyes. ¡°I¡¯ve never seen anything like this. I¡¯ve heard of premature awakenings under stress, but nothing with physical or mental changes.¡± Nothing about the kid was normal. He didn¡¯t seem dangerous, just weird. Regardless, dealing with issues like these wasn¡¯t his responsibility. ¡°OK, I¡¯ll take the ledger and application with me when I take him to the Center. I¡¯ll let them deal with this. We have Gurs to kill.¡± Almost like he planned it, the reinforcements from Dorchester arrived. Men started hitching horses to wagons and everything was put in order relatively quickly. As his men worked, Angelton turned to look for the boy who was the biggest anomaly in this mess. The kid was pestering a soldier to continue casting a clean spell on him. He seemed to be very intently staring at the soldiers hands and saying ¡°Again, please¡± over and over. ¡®Is he trying to learn magic by watching?¡¯ The captain wondered. It was very difficult to see the kid as anything other than an idiot. --------- Everyone was mounted up and we headed toward what I was told was ¡°Dorchester¡±. It was the largest local city and it was surrounded by towns and villages. As the largest city, it was where the army was stationed to protect the locals while being a preparation point for ongoing conflict with Islangur, which was far to the south. I was told that the region we are in is called ¡°The Strates¡± after the line of lords called Strattings that rule this part of the kingdom. From what I could tell, the area is huge, and the fact that a raid happened this close to Dorchester has all of the soldiers worried. I just wanted to see a map along with a globe. Without a frame of reference, none of this meant anything to me. I also learned that I can sense magic, or essence as it is commonly known. My pride was immeasurable until I found out that everyone can sense essence. In fact, most children can sense essence. Not only does it not mean anything special, it is also useless. At a basic level it is only good for knowing that something is agitating the local essence. So, I won¡¯t be learning any spells by following along with their casting. This had me inquiring about HOW someone went about learning spells. According to a nice soldier that didn¡¯t mind continuously casting clean on me as we rode (regardless of how many times he assured me that it won¡¯t help me learn it), the way to learn spells is also commonly known. A person has to first be able to influence the essence around them. Usually through meditation and focus you can adapt your ¡®feeling¡¯ the essence into ¡®probing¡¯ it. Eventually, you can manipulate it and finally start making patterns with the streams that are all around us. He called it ¡®essence weaving¡¯, ¡®patterning¡¯, or my favorite: ¡®stamping¡¯. You start with manipulating, or ¡®weaving¡¯, raw essence. Then you move up to creating patterns infused with essence. And when you are really familiar with the spell or pattern, you can stamp it into existence with your center. Stamping is the fastest way to cast a spell and the most powerful. It stresses your center like crazy, but you¡¯re directly influencing the world around you. I thought to myself, ¡®That sounds so bad-ass I don¡¯t even mind calling it ¡®stamping¡¯. Although it does remind me of people who used to collect stamps and wasted everyone¡¯s time by talking about them. I¡¯m pretty sure they also called that stamping.¡¯ As these thoughts rattled around in my head, I continued to bother the poor guy whose name I never bothered to learn. After an hour, I realized that I wasn¡¯t paying attention to where we were going. In the movies and stories, the camera always follows above the column of soldiers providing a grand view of the surroundings. For me though, I was surrounded by large smelly men that blocked my view of the forest, which stopped me from seeing anything in front of the column. So it was a pleasant surprise when we cleared the forest and started to spread out. Now that I could see a little more, I noticed that off in the distance there were large walls that must have been 100ft high, with towers spread about in a circle so large that the walls seemed almost flat. ¡®Now THAT is a fantasy city. And what the hell are they defending against?¡¯ I wondered. Covering a fair bit of distance before the walls was a city in and of itself. There were small businesses and homes all around the outside, but they looked so tiny next to the behemoth of a wall. The men just calmly rode on, used to seeing the great wall of Dorchester, as it was so named in my head. It took another hour before we finally arrived at the buildings outside the wall. I realized that the wall was much taller than I thought. There were some small walls and defenses, but nothing that compared to the wall I couldn¡¯t stop staring at. The damn thing became more imposing the closer we got to it. The people were dressed in what I thought was a typical medieval fashion. Wool clothes with leather belts and boots. The city was clean, and the roads wide. Plenty of space for everyone, though they did respectfully move out of the way for the soldiers. Nobody seemed to be afraid of them, so I guess it wasn¡¯t a totalitarian state or despotic rule. ¡®No joining the revolution it seems,¡¯ I grouched. Looking closely, there were people using random abilities all over the place. Glowing lines from a parent attached to a kids back, like those kid-leashes suburbanites used back home. And there was a vendor with a magic glowing sign above his door that said ¡°Veranus Enchantments for Home and Work. You need it, we have it. Be better than the others.¡± This tale has been pilfered from Royal Road. If found on Amazon, kindly file a report. ¡®Wow, even the subtext of the world is all about personal improvement. It¡¯s kinda depressing that I¡¯m going to have to get over the idea that people will pull others down to lift themselves up.¡¯ I thought to myself. It seems the fabric of this universe is completely at odds with the unhealthy competition I was comfortable with. I also just realized that I could read without any issue. ¡®Nice! It must be part of that skill for Common I got,¡¯ I thought. As I kept up my observation of the town, I saw that my first impression was incomplete. Although the focus was definitely about how great each merchant was, there were still subtle digs at the competition. Regardless of how personally awesome someone is, there are only so many customers out there. Businesses have to advertise, and maybe subtly imply that ¡°we¡¯re the best, so choose us over them¡±. ¡®I wonder if there is identification magic that can unquestionably PROVE one way or another if someone is better. Maybe there is a magic yellow pages that updates who the best is at giving haircuts in a locale. When a diner says they serve the best hamburger in Dorchester, they can actually prove it. That¡¯s trippy.¡¯ I mused as we moved through the town. Coming up to the wall, there was a giant tunnel with a spiked gate. Even with the gate up, it was very imposing. As I was in the middle of the column, I couldn¡¯t see what was happening up front, but I was content staring at the freaking abomination that was the wall. ¡®Is that 200ft? Maybe it¡¯s 1000ft. I¡¯ve never seen something that size, so my frame of reference is not helping at all. It must be the height of a downtown apartment building.¡¯ I thought in wonder. Finally, the men around me started to move again, and my eyes snapped back to my surroundings. I adjusted my seating as we entered the tunnel, my attention on my horse. I imagined I would have had more trouble riding, but when they aren¡¯t moving fast, I don¡¯t have to do anything. I just had to sit there and try not to do anything that would influence what the horse is doing. It had seemed perfectly happy to just follow the other horses. I checked my ¡°identity¡± (I still think it should be called status), and I didn¡¯t even get a riding skill. I suppose I¡¯d have to actually steer the horse in order to be considered a rider. ¡®A bunch of other skills went up though. Analysis, Observation, Listening, and a ton of others. Do people actually follow all this?¡¯ I doubted it. The tunnel must have been as wide as an entire football field. How much stone must be in this thing? Embedded in the walls were doors, and arches. Shadows covered small terraces for guards to rain down death to invaders. Looking at the ceiling, I noticed little bulbs of light up in corners that looked like they were hovering. They kept the tunnel well lit. This place was awesome. Through the opening on the other end, you could tell this was now the real city. Stone houses and roads, gutters with steel coverings, street lamps that were currently unlit. Multi story buildings with curtained windows and those plant boxes hanging from the side. It was unreal to the point of being cliche. This is almost too fantasy-like. Where is the inconsistency that pulls the eye? There wasn¡¯t even a weird smell. What happened to the horse droppings? It was so normal that I got a headache just trying to spot something out of place. The sound of the people going about their day seemed to inspire the column to start moving faster, and we quickly approached a walled off compound. It made sense that they were stationed near the gate. Like a bomb going off, everyone started to go in different directions. My travel companion (whose name I still don¡¯t know) told me to dismount, then immediately walked off with our horses giving me nothing but a nod and a smile. So, I just stood there in the middle of all this activity being completely ignored. It was impressive how no one seemed to be bothered by me just standing in the middle of everything. ¡°Alright young Nero, come with me.¡± I heard from behind me, causing me to jump a little. I turned to see Captain Angelton standing there, already changed out of his full plate and now in chain mail and without a helm, his blonde military haircut now on display. He still had his blue tabard and sword with him, but he looked significantly more relaxed. Yet, I noted that he was still unnecessarily large. Once he saw that he had my attention, he immediately turned and walked away. I hastened to catch up to him as we walked out of the compound. The Captain gave a nod to the gate guard. I tried to keep next to him, but I seemed to always be a step behind him. I got the distinct impression that he didn¡¯t want to talk to me anymore. His brow was furrowed and he walked with purpose. He seemed to have a lot on his mind, and was just trying to get this last duty finished before he could move onto more important things. As we passed by a food stall, I realized that I hadn¡¯t eaten since my miraculous body snatch. So I said ¡°Hey Cap, you mind springing for some food? Maybe a Soda or something? I haven¡¯t eaten all day and it must be close to dinner time, eh?¡± With a smile on my lips and a hopeful look in my eye, I levered all my considerable charisma to ¡®bum some grub¡¯. With a small glance to his side down to me, he replied without breaking stride ¡°What the hell is a Soda? Never mind, it doesn¡¯t matter. We¡¯ll be at the center soon, and they¡¯ll be serving dinner there. I¡¯ll introduce you to the in-taker, and they¡¯ll get you all set up. Don¡¯t worry son, Oglivarch takes care of her own.¡± I really need a map. I thought I was in the kingdom of ¡°The Strates¡±. Sufficiently chastened to hurry up and be quiet. I followed the Captain, admiring the buildings and people. Everyone seemed to have somewhere to be, just like back home. Surprisingly, I felt no home-sickness, or desire to return to my distant relations or semi-friendly coworkers. I felt free and in control. I luxuriated in all the new sights, smells, and sounds. I heard a soft chime all around me and the air seemed to thicken for a moment. My steps halted and I looked around confused as to what just happened. A couple passed by on my right and both offered their congratulations, as the man patted my back, and they resumed their day. I thanked them by reflex and turned to the Captain, who was staring at me with those piercing gray eyes of his. He walked right up to me, looming over me like a teacher who just caught their student cheating. ¡°Boy, did you just level? How the hell did you already level, you haven¡¯t done anything since we found you, right?¡± He damn-near accused/questioned me. I cleverly replied, ¡°Um¡­. One sec.¡±
Name Nero Walker Level 2
Race Human Growth 0%
Tier 1 Condition 100%
Age 14 Center 100%
Body 0 Mind 0
Soul 0 Confluence 10
Stars 1 Pillars 0/0
¡°Yup, I leveled. I feel great too, is that 100% condition, how does that work? Oh, I got a star. What do I do with it. Pillars are listed too, but aren¡¯t available.¡± I read out what I thought was interesting information, which apparently it wasn¡¯t because the Captain didn¡¯t seem to care. He almost growled, ¡°I¡¯ll ask again, and this time I expect a direct answer. How. Did. You. Already. Level?¡± Completely caught off guard and confused, I closed my identity and looked up at him. ¡°I have no idea why you seem angry, I didn¡¯t do anything. You¡¯ve had someone standing next to me almost the entire time I¡¯ve had a status page¡­. Um¡­ identity. Is it really so weird to level this quickly?¡± Without even batting an eye, he replied ¡°Yes. It¡¯s weird. You have to DO something to grow. You have to commune with who you are as a person. You have to acquire new knowledge and experiences. You have to become more than you were just minutes before. It¡¯s supposed to take time, and effort. You¡¯re not supposed to level by staring at that woman¡¯s ass like you were a few minutes ago.¡± I think I have a pretty good read on this straight laced captain by now and I was currently feeling great thanks to my recent level. So I smirked and crossed my arms like the little shit I was. ¡°First of all, you know that everything I¡¯m seeing is brand new to me, considering I don¡¯t remember anything. Second, I¡¯ve learned stuff. Like that vendor over there is selling something called ¡®maginopes¡¯ 3 for a 2 valens. And third and most importantly, that woman¡¯s ass was worth some introspection and consideration. You need to start looking around. There is NEVER nothing to experience.¡± I finished with what I hoped was a profound look on my face. I paused and looked down for a second to think whether or not that amazing last line made sense. ¡®Yup, checks out,¡¯ I decided as I nodded and looked back up at him proudly. The look on his face was priceless. If this growth thing works the way I think it might, I¡¯m surprised I didn¡¯t level again. He stood there in stunned silence, now standing like an immovable pole in the middle of the walkway as people passed by. Confusion and Contemplation clear in his features. I watched him struggle with what I said for a solid 15 seconds; it was glorious. Finally, he seemed to come back to himself and grunt, as if to clear the air. He resumed his calm but authoritative tone and said, ¡°Come boy, we¡¯re almost there.¡± I just chuckled and followed along. Chapter 5 - Paperwork is a multi-dimensional evil The Captain and I soon reached what looked like a large marble library with incredibly wide steps. The building had statues of what I assumed were important people, lining the side in recessed alcoves. The building rose into the air for several stories and the roof had crenelations that gave it a sense of grandeur. I whistled in appreciation as we walked up the stairs and through the large open doorway into what looked like the entry hall of a church, or a library. People milled about, looking at paintings or talking softly in groups. There were people in fancy Blue robes throughout the large hallway, interacting with people while looking all priestly. ¡®Those must be the Wayfinders,¡¯ I thought. Judging by the way this place looks like a church crossed with a college library, I should probably have had some insightful opinion. But to be honest, this is exactly what I expected. All along the walls were doors intermixed among large paintings of exceptional quality. The ceiling must have been 30 feet and had church-like murals with fancy architecture. The paintings didn¡¯t really seem to have a theme. There were ones depicting a beautiful meadow at sunrise/sunset, images of heroic battles, people working together to raise a barn on a clear day. If I were more snooty, I¡¯d say the theme was ¡°the greatness of man¡±. However, if I spent too much time on that thought, I¡¯d have to kick my own ass. While my mind was occupied on how to judge the paintings without feeling like a tool, Captain Angelton was speaking to a few blue robed guys and gals at what looked like an information desk. I decided I should probably pay attention to things that were more relevant, so I walked over to see what was going on. ¡°Here he is now. This is the boy I told you about. I sent you all the information we have on him, and here is his paperwork. As you can see his picture doesn¡¯t match what¡¯s in the file.¡± the Captain stated while pointing at something on the other side of the desk. ¡°What picture?¡± I asked. No one told me about a picture. I¡¯m in a book? Evidently they were ignoring me for the moment. The Wayfinder just flipped through the paperwork, and nodded with a thoughtful look on his face while rubbing his chin with his free hand. ¡°Interesting¡± he said. ¡°Leave the boy here, we¡¯ll take care of him. You have done your service Captain, and it¡¯s up to the community from now on.¡± The Captain nodded, as if this was expected. He turned to me and looked down to meet my eyeline. ¡°The Center will provide you with a path forward, as is their purpose. You can trust in them. It was good meeting you, young Nero.¡± He started to turn, then paused. ¡°If you need anything from me, you can find me at the Gate 7 army compound. I hope we meet again. You¡¯re an interesting kid; weird, but interesting.¡± And without even waiting for a reply or a thank you, he just marched off. Surprised at the quick separation, I watched his wide back shrink in the distance. He is always marching with a straight back and squared shoulders and seemingly leading with that amazing chin of his. ¡®What an odd dude.¡¯ I thought. Turning back, I put the captain out of my mind and looked across the desk to the blue robed guy. He was taller than me, which isn¡¯t saying much, and looked to be in his mid 30¡¯s. With a clean shaven and scholarly look to him, he¡¯d fit right in at a human resources department. It¡¯s like I could sense his inner desire to ¡®sort¡¯ me into group so he could fill out paperwork on my behalf. ¡°So Mr. Tipsman, let¡¯s take a walk and have a conversation about your future.¡± He said while seemingly annoyingly pleased with himself. He started to walk to his right and I followed to meet him at the end of the desk. ¡®Well this guy sucks.¡¯ I thought. ¡°If you plan to give out ¡®life advice¡¯, then you should probably introduce yourself first. Also, knowing the name of who you¡¯re advising is probably pretty important. My name is Mr. Walker, not whatever it was that you said.¡± I said snidely as we walked past the other people at the desk. I made sure that I was loud enough that everyone heard what I said, without being particularly abrasive. That wonderful talent that was so common in my old world: talking to the crowd while seemingly speaking to one person. ¡®Ha! Look at his face.¡¯ I thought while not displaying my inner smile. We met in front of a pair of large double doors. They were wide open, and I saw what looked like a hallway with meeting alcoves along each side. The hallway was obscenely long, and I doubted I could throw a football to the end. It looked like it was for bank managers to address customer service issues. There were doors interspersed with art between the desks, and the fancy theme seemed to be carried over. The blue-robe-guy walked on as if he didn¡¯t hear me, but I could see the tension in his neck. We walked along the hallway until he chose, what to me was, a random desk which he sat on one side and offered the other chair to me. He then ignored me as he got all set up. Putting his papers in row and pulling out a crystal paperweight or something, he moved a cup of pens to be more accessible. When he was happy with his preparations, he folded his hands on the desk and finally looked at me. I was not amused. ¡°Mr. Tipsman, you were brought to us by Captain Angelton of the Dorchester 7th Gate army command after finding you among a raided merchant train en-route from Hillpenny. My records indicate that you were asked by the leader and wayfinder of Oakleaf, along with the consent of your parents, to be sent here to join the guard after being found stealing. Do you have anything of relevance to add?¡± asked the smug little prick, his condescending sneer proudly on display. So this is where the power plays in this society come in. Instead of being about how rich someone is, it¡¯s about your history, and how personally powerful you are. Here power is derived from knowledge and accomplishments. People are still assholes, they¡¯re just a different kind of asshole. It seems that in every universe there are people behind desks fucking with people seeking to resolve an issue. I leaned back in my chair and sighed. Looking up at the ceiling as if begging for the strength to deal with incompetent people. I took a deep breath and said, ¡°Look guy whose name I still haven¡¯t been told. My name is Nero Walker. I don¡¯t know what your records say, but I¡¯m guessing that the records that you have were handed to you by the Captain. He knows that I have no recollection of anything that happened before I woke up surrounded by dead bodies on the road to wherever we are. I¡¯m betting he told you that. I¡¯m also betting that you, being the bureaucrat that you are, ignored everything he said and just started reading what he gave you. So I¡¯m going to take a lesson from pop culture and do the smart thing.¡± at which point I stood up and righteously raised my hand into the air, full of self importance and loudly declared ¡°I DEMAND TO SPEAK TO YOUR MANAGER!¡± All of the quiet conversations at the many little desks seemed to come to a halt. I glanced around at ton of confused faces. ¡®Ha! Never seen a blogger making a scene, have you.¡¯ I thought. Fast walking from the back of the hallway was a tall woman and another man, both in impeccable blue robes (maybe velvet?). She had her light brown hair in a tight, sensible bun and was only missing glasses to complete the ¡°I''m in charge here¡± look. The man next to her seemed to be in his late 40¡¯s and tired. Everything about the guy screamed ¡°my work is my life, and it¡¯s important to no one but me¡±. You could be reading stolen content. Head to the original site for the genuine story. I¡¯ve always loved the hard working middle manager that puts everything he has into his job. The woman on the other hand was the epitome of the corporate troubleshooter. This lady could walk into a room full of problems, and the only thing coming out would be her covered in ink stains and sporting a smirk. ¡°What¡¯s the problem here young man?¡± She asked before she even stopped walking. As soon as she reached the desk she elegantly paused and crossed her hands in front of her waist while looking every bit a leader. The man next to her pulled out a clipboard of some kind and started making notes. Meanwhile the guy-whose-name-I-still-don¡¯t-know paled as all the blood left his face. ¡°Mrs. Salvatore, there is no problem. This young man was brought in by a captain in the 7th from a merchant train. He has a history of trouble-making and is being sent to join to guard by his parents and local leaders. It¡¯s nothing I can¡¯t handle.¡± guy-whose-name-I-still-don¡¯t-know said as he stood up and interjected before I could speak. She turned her head to him and raised one eyebrow. ¡°I believe he asked to speak to your manager. Mr. Bennings, that would indicate that this situation is something that you can not handle. Please sit down and let the young man speak.¡± She then turned her attention to me, as the now named Mr. Bennings shrank back down to his seat. I made sure that my face showed none of my internal victory dance. I mirrored her pose with my hands crossed at my waist and said, ¡°Thank you ma¡¯am. I seem to be in a difficult position where my life is in this man¡¯s hands, but he won¡¯t listen to what I¡¯m telling him. I would very much like to tell you my story and see if there something that can be done.¡± She nodded, then turned to Mr. Bennings. ¡°Mr. Bennings, I will be taking over for now. Please stand next to Mr. Farthing and we¡¯ll see what we see.¡± She then ignored the man as he leapt to stand next to her second-in-command. Sitting down, she moved all the papers and whatnot off to the side and placed her hands, one palm over the other, down on the desk. She did her best to look as welcoming as possible. ¡°Hello. My name is Vera Salvatore, I¡¯m an intake specialist here at the Dorchester center. How can I help you today?¡± She finished with a pleasant smile. I almost wanted to clap. It¡¯s always so amazing seeing someone who is actually good at what they do. It doesn¡¯t matter what it is. When someone, seemingly without effort, paints the corner of a wall without using painter¡¯s tape. Or when those guys in the pit crew of NASCAR do a perfect tire change. Or one of my favorites, when a waiter or waitress carries a ridiculous number of plates, as though they were dancing, through a crowd. It¡¯s simply amazing. I returned her smile and started from the beginning as concisely as possible. She did not seem to be a person who tolerated her time being wasted. ¡°Earlier today I woke up alongside the remains of a merchant wagon train. Everyone around me was dead. I had no knowledge of who I was and my body didn¡¯t feel right. Not much later a bunch of soldiers showed up. I¡¯m sorry, but I don¡¯t know if I should refer to them as soldiers, or knights, or something else. Anyway, their leader was Captain Angelton of what I now know is the 7th gate division of the army. He gave me some basic information about the world and then told me he would take me to the Center to be given some help. He said that I was a ¡®newly awakened¡¯ and that I could find my path forward here. Although, he didn¡¯t say what that meant. When we got here, he dropped me off at the desk in the big lobby.¡± Here I paused and frowned for dramatic effect. ¡°Then this guy doesn¡¯t introduce himself and just says ¡®come along¡¯ then calls me by some name I¡¯ve never heard of. Then he starts accusing me of things. When I told him that I didn¡¯t know what he was talking about, he ignored me. When I tried to tell my story, he shut me down. That¡¯s when I asked to see a manager.¡± Mrs. Salvatore listened attentively and waited for me to finish. She then turned to Mr. Bennings and said ¡°Is anything he said untrue or that he left out?¡± Mr. Bennings seemed to sense a chance and then walked quickly to the desk and grabbed his files to show his side of the story. ¡°Here,¡± he said, ¡°this shows that his real name is Rody Tipsman and that he is a criminal that is being sent to the guard. I was simply following procedure. Once I had his acknowledgment that this was him, I¡¯d have called the guard and have him sent to his path. Everything else is irrelevant.¡± He finished proudly. Coldly reading the files. She flipped to the front page and saw the picture. Her eyebrows raised in surprise, then she looked over at me. After giving me a once over, she turned back to Mr. Bennings. ¡°Did you listen to a word he said? You have truth sensing like everyone else in intake. You KNOW that he had no idea what you were talking about. We guide people to find their paths. We DO NOT force a path on them. When we force a path that doesn¡¯t help a citizen, it stunts their growth and hurts our community. You and I will be having words later.¡± She paused and held up her hand. ¡°I don¡¯t want you to say anything. What I want you to do, is to go to the office break room, and sit down. Stay there and think about how you handled this situation. Furthermore, I want you to reflect on what you can learn from what happened. We will talk about this later.¡± She then turned back to me as though Mr. Bennings had dissipated into thin air. ¡®Wow. Now that¡¯s how you dismiss someone¡¯ I applauded in my head. ¡°Now young man, if you are not Mr. Tipsman, what would like to be called?¡± Mrs. Salvatore asked. ¡°I guess I go by Nero Walker. It was the first thing that popped in my head when the Captain asked my name.¡± I replied. She reached behind the desk and pulled out a fresh form of some kind. She then started to fill it in at an impressive rate. It must be some kind of ability to be able to write super fast. That is very cool, but I¡¯d rather be able to blow stuff up. Looking back up at me, she said ¡°Let me start off by saying ¡®thank you¡¯ Mr. Walker for being so understanding. Many people in your shoes would be very unhinged in your situation. Seeking the right path is not for the timid, and you are off to a wonderful start. ¡°That being said, where we go from here is a little complicated. The first thing we have to address is whether or not you want to follow the path that you¡­ or Mr. Tipsman was on before you awakened. Do you want to join the guard?¡± I took a second to think how I wanted to say this, ¡°I don¡¯t know what I want to do, but I want the option of doing it. Does that make sense?¡± She smiled and replied, ¡°Yes it does. You don¡¯t want your path dictated by choices and circumstance that you don¡¯t recall. How about this¡­ Either way you¡¯ll have to see a mind specialist to see if you can recover any memories. I can assure you that you will not lose agency. That is to say, you will not lose the personality that you are developing. The mind specialist will just see if they can help you remember. Sound good?¡± ¡®Crap. That sounds perfectly reasonable,¡¯ I thought. Without seeing any way out of it, I said, ¡°Um¡­ Sure. As long as there is no chance of me being rewritten or something.¡± That question of mind specialists made me think of my stats. On my identity panel there was a mind stat. Throwing my hail mary, I asked, ¡°I leveled on my way over here and got a star, would putting that in my mind stat reboot my brain and get my memories back?¡± Her head snapped up from whatever she was writing. ¡°Did you just say that you leveled on the way over here. Earlier you said that you awakened today.¡± She started going to the paperwork that Mr. Bennings left. ¡°You were forcibly awakened! You weren¡¯t supposed to turn 14 for months. That might also explain the physical discrepancies.¡± She seemed to be talking to herself now. ¡°I¡¯ll have to call Nick. The forced awakening, hair and eyes changing color, not to mention gaining his first level in an afternoon. This boy is an unusual, who knows what he can learn from him.¡± She stood up and started walking away. I tried replaying what she just said to try and figure out what the hell she was talking about. She suddenly stopped, turned around ¡°I am so sorry Mr. Walker, I just got ahead of myself. Please come along and I¡¯ll introduce you to someone who can help you.¡± She then turned to the man who came with her at the beginning, ¡°Jacob, grab all the paperwork concerning Mr. Walker and take it to my office. Then afterward send Mr. Bennings home. Schedule a review with him tomorrow. Then come back and cover the floor. I¡¯ll be taking Mr. Walker over to Nick¡¯s office. Got all that?¡± Her second in command was furiously scribbling on his clipboard. ¡°Yes Mrs. Salvatore. I have everything. No problem. It will all be taken care of. Would you like me to reschedule the end of day review for this shift, or would you like for me to handle it?¡± ¡°You can handle it. Thank you Jacob.¡± She replied. Jacob then turned back to the table and started collecting everything. ¡®What an intense dude.¡¯ I thought. ¡°Alright Mr. Walker, follow me. We¡¯ll be going to see Nicholas Salvatore, the head of the Research division of the Center for Dorchester. If there is something concerning the path, he¡¯ll know about it.¡± She said. I noticed the name and asked, ¡°Any relation to you? Mrs. Salvatore?¡± She proudly replied, ¡°Yes of course, he¡¯s my husband. We¡¯ve been together almost 50 years.¡± As she looked at most 35, I realized that I had no idea how old anyone here was. I¡¯m gonna have to start policing my preconceptions. I thought of her as a young go-getter headed for upper management. With this new information, I realized that she already IS management. And also, she is apparently part of a power couple in the Center. ¡®She must have some serious clout around here.¡¯ I thought. Chapter 6 - Seeing is believing in yourself Captain Angelton walked into the conference room, trying to focus. He couldn¡¯t get that kid¡¯s words out of his head. ¡®There is never nothing to experience¡¯. Has he been ignoring things he should be paying attention to? Almost like the world was proving a point, he nearly jumped when Sergeant Borson interrupted his thoughts. ¡°Sir, are you alright? You have the same look Blackwood does when he¡¯s trying to figure out if I made fun of him.¡± ¡°Yes, I¡¯m fine.¡± he said, firmly putting the kid into the back of his mind for the moment. He walked up to the table and focused on the matter at hand. The sergeant¡¯s noticed his demeanor and all six of them came to attention in their chairs. ¡°What do we know?¡± Captain Angelton asked. Sergeant Williamson spoke up, ¡°We received long range communications from the scouts. They tracked the raiders to a valley not far from where the caravan was hit.¡± He said as he waved his hand over the desk, and a hologram depicting the area came into being. He continued speaking, as small details started populating the image. ¡°There are around 100 of them. No camp followers, or other signs of them digging in. The camp looks temporary. The scouts are still doing an in depth search of the area, but all signs point to the camp being isolated.¡± ¡°Do the mages have anything?¡± the captain asked, while examining the image. Sergeant Tailing replied, ¡°Nothing useful. They thoroughly scried the area, and can clearly see the camp. The records say that the place was empty two days ago. No reports or indications as to where the raiders came from. They say that there isn¡¯t anything else out there, but I am leery of taking their word for it.¡± ¡°Alright, I have orders to see these raiders dealt with.¡± Captain Angelton stood up to his full height. ¡°We have 540 men between us, and we will maintain contact with command in case we need reinforcements. Let¡¯s kick this hornet¡¯s nest and see if we get stung.¡± The men all stood and saluted. ¡°Yes Sir¡± was heard in unison. Nodding to his men, the captain walked out first. ¡®Let¡¯s go see what this is all about.¡¯ he thought. ----- While walking through the halls I couldn¡¯t help but wonder who pays for all this. Just when I was about to ask, Mrs. Salvatore stopped and turned toward a door that looked suspiciously like an elevator. The elevator door opening confirmed it¡¯s purpose, and we stepped in. She pressed 5 and we started going up. The ride was smooth and I didn¡¯t hear any gears or mechanical-type sounds of any kind. ¡®Magic for the win¡¯ I said to myself, while admiring the glowing panel with buttons. The doors opened to a hallway with a desk and receptionist. A young lady was standing over a circular desk and speaking to a young man who was sitting down and taking notes. The young woman was looking down at a pad of paper while reading off food orders. The situation was so very normal that it could have been something I saw happening back home. In fact, it was so familiar that I felt nostalgic for a moment. Mrs. Salvatore and I just stood there listening to them go back and forth, where the woman would state a food order, then the man would ask for clarification, and they¡¯d continue on. Only to repeat their pattern over and over again. It seemed that patience isn¡¯t one of Mrs. Salvatore¡¯s virtues as she coughed loudly. Both the young woman and the receptionist paused their skit to look at us. ¡°Judy, in the future just hand him the paper with the orders. Better yet, just make a simple form and make it available for everyone on the Center-hub for this floor. Everyone who wants their lunch ordered can print out the form themselves. Then they can fill out said form with their order and turn it in here at the desk. That way everyone saves time, and the likelihood of the order being wrong is drastically reduced.¡± Mrs. Salvatore said in a lecturing tone. The young woman, apparently named Judy, turned to the receptionist and said, ¡°Brian, why didn¡¯t you think of that. Make a form and get them out to all the offices. Then they can turn in their orders here.¡± She turned and said ¡°Thank you Vera, that was a lovely idea.¡± She gave us a nod and a smile then started to walk off. I could almost see the steam coming from Mrs. Vera Salvatore¡¯s head. As amusing as it was, I liked the lady, so I figured I¡¯d fire a shot of my own. ¡°Excuse me? Judy, was it? You might want to leave the paper with the rest of the lunch orders for tomorrow. That way Brian doesn¡¯t have to collect the ones you haven¡¯t read at him.¡± I said with my own smile. Mrs. Salvatore standing next to me radiated a ¡®sugar won¡¯t melt in my mouth¡¯ aura, as she watched Judy return to deliver her paper. Dropping it off Judy said, ¡°Thank you, young man.¡± This time her smile was a little strained when she walked off. Brian took the paper and placed it off to the side, then turned to us with a bright smile. ¡°What can I do for you Mrs. Salvatore?¡± ¡°Please call Mr. Salvatore and ask him if he is available.¡± She said sweetly. ¡°Sure thing.¡± he replied. Find this and other great novels on the author''s preferred platform. Support original creators! He reached up and touched a small circle on his temple that I didn¡¯t notice. It lit up a pale blue. I was expecting him to start talking, but instead he just sat there and started shuffling his papers. The light on his temple went out, and he looked up and said ¡°He¡¯s currently in lab 1. He says he¡¯s all yours, and that you should stop picking on Judy. She has enough self-confidence issues without your beauty and intelligence adding to them.¡± Mrs. Salvatore rolled her eyes and started walking down the hall. ¡°Riiiight¡­. Thanks Brian, good luck tomorrow. Come along Mr. Walker.¡± She said. I followed while chuckling at the amazing fantasy office politics skit I just witnessed. I¡¯m hoping that Nick turns out to be a bumbling goofball that is constantly inventing things that don¡¯t work. There is just something amusing about a head of research being someone who constantly researches things that don¡¯t work. I think that¡¯s why everyone likes mad scientists. Wait, a scientist wouldn¡¯t get very far in this world if that were true. ¡®Son of a bitch. He¡¯s going to be competent, isn¡¯t he.¡¯ I thought to myself. Looking over at his wife, I tried to imagine what kind of man would be with such an exacting woman for 50 years. Before long we were at a metal door with no handles. We just stood in front of it for about 5 seconds with nothing happening. I was just about to say something when Mrs. Salvatore audibly sniffed. Then the doors opened with a slide. ¡®Magic automated doors¡­ nice.¡¯ I thought, while watching the doors disappear into the wall. The room was huge. It had segmented areas that looked like they were for spell testing and were able to be sealed off. There were books everywhere, along with tables and chairs. At the back of the room was a thin man of about 6ft with meticulously trimmed hair and a very stylish light red robe. ¡®Do only intake people wear blue? The army wore blue too. What does red mean?¡¯ I wondered. The man was staring at what looked like a hologram of a tree without leaves, while arguing with himself in muttered tones. ¡°Nick!¡± She half shouted. ¡°Thank you for taking the time to see us on such short notice.¡± Mrs. Salvatore continued loudly to break his concentration as we walked up. Sighing, Nick¡¯s temple radiated blue while he started pressing some glowing sections of the table as holograms disappeared. He then turned around with a sardonic smile and said, ¡°Lose the management voice Vera. I love you to death, but you know I hate that.¡± She smiled as she walked up and said, ¡°That is exactly why I do it. You always tell me you love me along with your complaints. Now come here, I want you to meet Mr. Walker.¡± Nick walked up and I put my hand out for a shake. He just stared at me with a confused look on his face. ¡®No handshakes here, got it.¡¯ I reminded myself, as I lowered my hand and offered a smile instead. Taking it in stride, Mrs. Salvatore said, ¡°Mr. Nero Walker here awakened today under unusual circumstances. He was found by the army at the site of a merchant train raid. He was supposed to turn 14 in three months. When he woke up there, he had no memories of the raid or anything having to do with his past. He even has a new name on his identity. In addition, this is what he used to look like.¡± She then raised her hand and a picture of my file appeared in front of us. As this was the first time I¡¯d seen this, I was extremely interested. Leaning forward, I took a good look at myself while trying to ignore the fact that she held a freakin¡¯ hologram in her hand. I was a thin-ish young man with average looks, tan skin and mud brown eyes and hair. The look on my face was that of a typical teenage angst ridden mouth-breather. I had an urge to tell the kid in front of me to stop being a little shit, comb his hair, and take the trash out. ¡®So that¡¯s me, huh.¡¯ I thought. Mrs. Salvatore noticed my interest and realized that this was the first time I¡¯d seen my file. She then said ¡°Here, Mr. Walker. This is what you look like now.¡± As she spoke the hologram turned into a mirror and I could see myself for the first time. To say I was shocked would be an understatement. ¡®I¡¯m a goddamn anime character! I don¡¯t get a super leveling system or a golden finger, but I get THIS!¡¯ I thought while trying to repress my rage. My eyes were such a pale, light blue that they were practically glowing. My hair had turned into spun silver; and while messy, it still looked beautiful. These features combined to turn my average looks into a pleasing fae motif. As I watched myself grimace, I realized getting worked up over it was pointless and moving forward was my only option. I took a deep breath, closed my eyes and let my preconceptions about what I¡¯ll see when I open my eyes just disappear. This time, when I looked at my reflection, I saw a calm face with a resolute expression. I nodded to Mrs. Salvatore and she dismissed the mirror. I turned toward Nick, who was looking at me like I was a particularly interesting puzzle. Mrs. Salvatore added further fuel to the fire by saying with a smirk, ¡°It¡¯s also worth mentioning that within an afternoon after having awakened, on the way over here from the gate, he leveled.¡± Nick¡¯s face snapped to Mrs. Salvatore and he said, ¡°What do you mean he leveled? Like he actually grew to a level 2 from a 1 in an afternoon?¡± He turned to me and said, ¡°Speak up, young man, what do you mean you leveled.¡± Mrs. Salvatore started laughing as she watched him sputter. I didn¡¯t really get the joke, aside from realizing that it was probably a little fast for a level. I just said ¡°Well I came across a lot of new information and experiences. I¡¯m told that¡¯s all you need for growth, right? I¡¯m sure it¡¯s a little fast, but it can¡¯t be that exciting.¡± With his mouth open in astonishment, he started shaking his head. He said ¡°No, No, No¡­ it¡¯s not just new experiences and information, it¡¯s ¡®internalizing¡¯ that new thought form. Interaction with the world under the new paradigm is a must. All while collecting the new experience into a part of your center. To put it another way, I can¡¯t just read a book at you and have you grow. You have to learn it, understand it, put it in a frame of reference to your past and incorporate it into your future. Growth is not easy, it takes work and dedication. It takes months for a level 1 to become a level 2. Typically, it takes a climber between 5 and 6 months for their first level. After that, the work really begins.¡± I replied flippantly, ¡°Grinding is a lifestyle.¡± Seeing the confused faces, I clarified, ¡°Like a grindstone. You just keep grinding in order to get sharper. It never stops. You can ALWAYS get sharper, get better.¡± Nick looked at me as if he were seeing me for the first time. ¡°Yes!¡± he said, ¡°that is was it is to follow the path. A ¡®grind¡¯. I love it.¡± He turned to the side and threw his hand at the wall like he was flinging mud. On the wall in large, bold letters it stated ¡®GRINDING IS A LIFESTYLE¡¯. He looked on proudly at what he had made. I couldn¡¯t help but chuckle. ¡°Sure man, you can use it. It¡¯s not like it¡¯s copyrighted.¡± Looking at their confused faces, I just sighed. ¡°Ignore that. So now what?¡± Mrs. Salvatore said, ¡°This is where I leave you with Nick. I¡¯ll go finish your paperwork for a new identity and get you a place in the Center dorms. We have associates who want to be Wayfinders training here, and there are rooms for rent available for them. Temporarily, the Center will cover your room and board. I¡¯ll also schedule an appointment for tomorrow with a mind-healer for you. After that we¡¯ll have another meeting and touch base.¡± Nick spoke up, ¡°Why does he need a mind-healer?¡± Mrs. Salvatore replied, ¡°Because he doesn¡¯t remember anything from before he awakened.¡± Nick replied, as though this was old news. ¡°Yes, but that¡¯s just because whoever was in his body yesterday is now dead. Mr. Tenpennies or whatever name was on the file you showed me. This young man right here.¡± He gestured to Nero, ¡°is a new person, a new soul. Probably a remnant soul that was dragged into the body through some cosmic fluke or tossed here by some sovereign to get it out of his domain. He¡¯s obviously not a revanent, zombie, lich, or any other kind of undead. He has a heartbeat. If he were a vampire, he¡¯d have a consciousness echo of whoever had the body before. Who knows, maybe he is a part of a soul from a shattered sovereign that reconstituted after death and went toward the closest available body on this plane. Even you should be able to feel his unique psychic presence. I¡¯ve never felt a mind like his before.¡± Every word Nick spoke was so ¡®matter-of-fact¡¯ that they hit Nero¡¯s psyche like hammers. All of those things exist here. There are dangers and wonders all around. This was a world of magic. He came from elsewhere and took over a dead body that was killed in a raid on a merchant train. The soul is a real tangible thing, and HIS soul is now in this body. For the first time since arriving here, Nero felt clarity spread through his very being. He KNEW who and what he was. ¡®Ding¡¯ He heard a soft chime as the world around him came into sharper focus and he felt alive. ¡°Well this is just bullshit!¡± Nick exclaimed and threw up his hands. Chapter 7 - Home is where your stuff is Answering his link, Jennings mentally barked at the interruption, ¡°What?¡± ¡°It¡¯s a kid¡± Mathers said. ¡°What does that mean? ¡®It¡¯s a kid¡¯? What¡¯s a kid?¡± Jennings replied, his train of thought completely broken. Mathers replied with a sense of self-satisfaction, ¡°The anomaly is a soul that somehow ended up near Dorchester in the southern Strates. Other than a left over mind imprint, there doesn¡¯t seem to be anything out of the ordinary.¡± ¡°You mean to tell me that a regular everyday soul caused that much of a disruption of the upper planes? You¡¯re wrong.¡± Jennings said matter-of-factly. ¡°I¡¯m not wrong.¡± Mather¡¯s replied, his joy at Jennings misery coming through the link loud and clear. ¡°Show me.¡± Jennings replied while gritting his teeth. ¡°Alright, I¡¯m on my way.¡± Mather¡¯s replied and cut the link. Arch-Mage Jennings closed his analysis of the anomaly, and waited for that blithering incompetent to arrive. He turned to the door just as Mathers walked in with a wide smile on his face. Not saying anything, Mathers just walked up to the console like it was HIS lab and started entering in scrying coordinates. The view came on and the men saw a young white-haired boy with wide eyes walking through a city. ¡°This boy is the recipient of the soul. It found a recently deceased body that it resonated with in a merchant caravan raid. You¡¯re looking at the city of Dorchester.¡± Mathers said and stepped back. ¡°Go ahead and look, you¡¯ll see that his soul isn¡¯t tainted with a planar signature. He doesn¡¯t have a parasite, and is clearly not a planar entity. He is just a boy.¡± Mathers finished, relishing the annoyance on Jennings face. Jennings manipulated the controls, and the display filtered through views. He checked everything he could think of. The boy really was just a reincarnated human with a remnant mind imprint. Jennings couldn¡¯t believe it, something must have happened to a soul that went through a planar disruption of that magnitude. Just as he was about to concede that the soul was perfectly normal, the soul in question leveled. The display threw up alert, after alert. The boy¡¯s soul was POWERFUL. Is he a reincarnated sage? Or a descended sovereign? Who was this boy? Filtering back to a basic view, Jennings pulled up the audio. The boy was speaking in a flippant tone, ¡°I have no idea why you seem angry, I didn¡¯t do anything. You¡¯ve had someone standing next to me almost the entire time I¡¯ve had a status page¡­. Um¡­ identity. Is it really so weird to level this quickly?¡± The Captain escorting him somewhere replied, ¡°Yes. It¡¯s weird. You have to DO something to grow. You have to commune with who you are as a person. You have to acquire new knowledge and experiences. You have to become more than you were just minutes before. It¡¯s supposed to take time, and effort. You¡¯re not supposed to level by staring at that woman¡¯s ass like you were a few minutes ago.¡± The boy smiled like he had pulled a prank. ¡°First of all, you know that everything I¡¯m seeing is brand new to me, considering I don¡¯t remember anything. Second, I¡¯ve learned stuff. Like that vendor over there is selling something called ¡®maginopes¡¯ 3 for a 2 valens. And third and most importantly, that woman¡¯s ass was worth some introspection and consideration. You need to start looking around. There is NEVER nothing to experience.¡± The boy said with a smirk. Jennings waved and the image went silent, but kept playing. ¡®What a clever little shit,¡¯ he thought. ¡°That totally normal soul just leveled after a few hours of being here. Did you see how innately powerful he is?¡± Jennings said while bouncing around while smiling. ¡°I was standing right next to you. This is unprecedented. We need to analyze this data in detail. I¡¯ll call the council. Let me know what happens.¡± Mathers said as he ran off. Jennings nodded and conjured a chair to sit down and watch the boy. What an incredibly great day this was turning out to be. As he watched the boy, he had a thought. Opening a connection to Mathers he said, ¡®When you come back, don¡¯t forget to bring snacks.¡¯ ---------- Mrs. Salvatore closed the door behind them, sealing them off from a furious Nick. Nero could hear him swearing that ¡°this is not how a path is formed¡± and ¡°where the hell did he put his copy of ¡®something-or-an-other''". Nero couldn¡¯t help but chuckle. He knew that this was a serious development, but seeing someone who was previously so ¡®in-control¡¯ completely lose it was hilarious. It reminded him of when a doctor came storming into his store because she couldn¡¯t get into her phone. Somehow, her cute little 5 year old daughter had gotten hold of the mom¡¯s iphone. And while they were shopping, she took the opportunity to change the password. The little kid stood next to her mom and told her, without fear of reprisal, that the phone could be unlocked for the price of ¡®one giant cookie¡¯. The completely together, professional woman, was flabbergasted when I told her that we can¡¯t unlock her phone without a complete reset, or she could recover her data from the icloud if she had it set up. For a good 30 seconds she just focused on breathing while staring at me. I empathized with her plight, but god-damn that was hard not to laugh at. Then, from the mouth of that little treasure, a sing-song voice could be heard loudly declaring, ¡°oonneee giaant cookiiee for meee¡±. It eventually all worked out, but it remains one of my fondest memories. Much like how the sight of Nick cursing while flipping through charts in a book will also one day be looked upon with delight. Stolen from its original source, this story is not meant to be on Amazon; report any sightings. ¡°Well, let¡¯s let him rest up a bit. I¡¯ll talk to him later tonight. For now, let¡¯s get you settled in the dorms.¡± Mrs. Salvatore said as she guided me toward the elevators. As we passed through the very large hallways of the Research Center, she filled me in on her updated plan. The new plan still had me staying with the new associates in the dorms, which can be reached only by going through the ground floor and then through the courtyard behind the Center hall (which I surmised was the fancy entry hallway that I saw when the Captain brought me in). She told me that she would take care of contacting the family of Mr. Tipsman and passing on the sad news of the caravan attack. Apparently they ¡®would be fine¡¯ she said as they had 12 kids in total. Since dying on the road was not unheard of, they can take comfort that the other 11 were still alive and well. I tried to wrap my head around the idea that the parents were unlikely to be crushed by the news of this body¡¯s previous host dying. Unfortunately, I found my powers of imagination did not meet the challenge, and I found the situation utterly baffling. Seeing my trouble, Mrs. Salvatore offered words of encouragement; which were, ¡°Everyone has a personal journey to stand victorious against the troubles that assault us every day. A parent¡¯s job is to arm their children as best they can, but they can¡¯t forget that those children have a journey of their own. Bad things happen, and to focus on them is to ignore all the opportunities for growth that are all around us, everyday.¡± After that we walked in silence for a while. I couldn¡¯t help but feel like that was a great outlook, but not a realistic one. I¡¯m thinking most people here just bury their troubles under platitudes, rather than face their issues, because that is what this society demands of them. Everyone ¡®being their best self¡¯ sounds great until people have to live in a world which exists longer than a meeting with their local self-help guru. For about 3 seconds I thought about contacting the parents myself, until I realized that absolutely no good would come from that. I¡¯d be a constant reminder of the son they¡¯d lost. It¡¯s best I never step foot in Oakleaf, or whatever that town¡¯s name was. Eventually we reached the dorms after walking through the large courtyard, which was more like a quad at a university. Stepping through the doors, I saw a veritable herd of people from teens to young adults and even some people who looked like they were in their late 20¡¯s. It¡¯s going to take a long time before I can make any kind of accurate guess as to what people¡¯s actual ages are here. In fact, the lady at the counter could be 100 for all I know, as she looked maybe 45. Regardless, she was a very attractive and fit black woman who wore her hair in a braid so tight that it pulled her face taut. Her hawk-like gaze locked in on us the moment we entered into her domain. She wore a burgundy robe without sleeves that looked like one of those cool battle robes. Yet, her most striking feature was her arms, they looked thick, not huge, but thick and carved from marble. Mrs. Salvatore introduced us, ¡°Ms. Cathleen Averett, let me introduce Mr. Nero Walker, a new addition to our center. His circumstances are unique, and I will ping you a full report later tonight concerning his history. It is not secret, but is not for common gossip.¡± Ms. Averett raised an intrigued eyebrow but otherwise said nothing. Mrs. Salvatore continued, ¡°He will be staying here with the associates, however he will most likely be spending the next few mornings with Mr. Salvatore.¡± At that, Mrs. Salvatore turned to look at me like I was supposed to say something. I returned a confused stare. Then looked at Ms. Averett and said, ¡°It¡¯s nice to meet you ma¡¯am. Thank you for giving me a place to crash, until I can get a job or find some way to make some cash.¡± I put my best smile on to ensure that I would be welcome. Not finding my answer pleasing, she leaned forward a little. Blatantly evaluating me from feet to forehead, seemingly finding only disappointment, she locked her gaze to my eyes and said ¡°You don¡¯t look like you¡¯ve trained a day in your life. How have you been spending your time boy?¡± She interrupted my response by holding up one hand. ¡°Don¡¯t answer that. I don¡¯t care.¡± Her black eyes seemed to glow as she stated, ¡°We¡¯ll fix your schedule right quick.¡± She then gestured without breaking eye contact to a wide hallway. ¡°Cafeteria is down that hallway and serves meals at all times.¡± Then she pointed at a large free standing board with papers all over it, surrounded by students. ¡°That is the Center Class-hub. Even if you are not taking associate training, you WILL be taking combat classes at least 3 times a week. I expect to see your name registered for basic combat training by tomorrow.¡± She finished with a mumble about ¡®soft people¡¯, and ¡®this country going to hell¡¯. She then picked up some papers and yelled ¡°Heather!¡± From a door behind the desk, a young woman came out quickly with a cup in her hand and said softly, ¡°Yes, Ms. Averett?¡± She didn¡¯t seem bothered by Ms. Averett¡¯s tone at all. The warrior woman then said, ¡°Watch the counter, I need to go hit something. Thank the gods this day is almost over.¡± Walking away, she continued her grumbling. Heather just smiled in amusement and took a sip of her drink. ¡°Are you two taken care of?¡± Mrs. Salvatore returned the smile and said, ¡°We need a dorm assignment for Mr. Walker here, and then he¡¯ll be going to get some food, then sleep.¡± She turned to me than continued, ¡°Don¡¯t mind Cathleen, she comes from an army family from the northern reaches. Up there they tend to focus on paths of physical dominance. If you prove that you''re tougher than you look, she¡¯ll treat you fine.¡± She paused for a second. ¡°Well, she won¡¯t treat you any worse.¡± While Mrs. Salvatore was speaking, Heather had collected an information packet and a fine chain necklace with a metal disc with a crystal embedded in its center. ¡°Here,¡± she said, ¡°this is your identi-key. The key will bond with your link and give you authorization to use Center facilities.¡± Apparently noting my look of confusion, she elaborated. ¡°The Center has an isolated hub.¡± ¡®OH. It¡¯s an isolated hub¡­. What the fuck does that mean?¡± ¡°Once you touch it to the door disc, the room will be locked to only open for you and the master key, which is in Ms. Averett¡¯s hands. I recommend you never give her a reason to use it. There are 3 standard sets of multi-sized robes, and toiletries are already in the room. The communal rooms are listed on the map, along with the game rooms, and the physical library. As long as you are within the center, and you have your identi-key on you, you can access the library through your link. Now, If you have any questions, this desk is always manned. Welcome to Center¡¯s Rest Dorchester and may you find your path wide and safe.¡± She finished with a well rehearsed dismissal, then turned back to whatever it was that didn¡¯t involve me. I said, ¡°Thank you¡± and took a few steps back along with Mrs. Salvatore. I slipped the key over my head and wore it as a necklace, copying everyone around me. The crystal on it lit up a light blue for a second, then went back to clear. I then turned to my current benefactor and smiled. ¡°I am so very glad that I met you Mrs. Salvatore. My day could have gone a lot worse had I not requested to see a manager.¡± She chuckled. ¡°The pleasure was all mine Mr. Walker. I¡¯ll be seeing you tomorrow afternoon. Nick will be in his office waiting for you at 7. Just go to the same floor we met him on earlier. That¡¯s floor 5 if you weren¡¯t paying attention.¡± She waited for my nod before continuing. ¡°I¡¯ll have more information on your options when we meet later in the day. Nick will give you all the details. Do you have any last questions, before I leave you to explore?¡± ¡°I have a thousand, but I guess I can wait for tomorrow. I¡¯ll be at Nicks after breakfast. I¡¯m sure I can figure out how to set an alarm.¡± I said with a good natured smirk. She just rolled her eyes and said ¡°You should have a sense of the time now that you¡¯ve awakened. You¡¯re not a child anymore.¡± She paused and furrowed her brow, ¡°Then again, you had a weird awakening. Before you go to sleep, you should head to the library and look up how to be in touch with your identity. Or just look it up through the link. After all, your identity is how the world sees you. And don¡¯t worry, even if you can¡¯t figure it out, I¡¯m sure Nick will track you down. I don¡¯t think he¡¯ll be letting you get away without a few intrusive conversations.¡± Then she walked off laughing like she saw a dad get hit in the nuts while trying to teach his kid baseball (you know, that pure laugh of the evil). I shook my head and headed off towards the cafeteria. I didn¡¯t exactly ignore the class board thing that was full of students, but I decided not to look in that direction. That seemed like a tomorrow problem. My immediate concern was food. Chapter 8 - Scientifically Spiritual is a thing here Sitting cross-legged he floated unimpeded in the middle of the room. He could see far into the distance, and he enjoyed watching the city go about it¡¯s day. Below him, his subjects were focusing on their own concerns, weaving the tapestry that was the Kingdom. King Oliver Oglivarch enjoyed watching his Kingdom from this tower. The expansive ceiling in his observation room was supported by tall ornate pillars that were interspersed along the edges in a circle. As there were no walls or furniture, the wind howled unimpeded. The harsh winds made the atmosphere unappealing to most people, so he was usually undisturbed by trivialities. This isolated room, sitting atop his tower, was perfect for pondering the state of his kingdom. His gaze, as of late, has been pulled south toward Islangur. ¡®It is not only through conflict with each other that we grow, the world presents conflict enough. Your path is flawed Barett.¡¯ The King thought to himself, not for the first time. His time of introspection and meditation was interrupted, as the door leading to the lower floors slid open on the floor to his left. Glancing over, he saw two of the ¡®Council of Leadership¡¯ rise up out of the floor. Both Lord Jessica Manchester, and Lord Johnathon Silverbrook wore equally deep frowns. They were two of the his most meticulous advisors, every day they brought something that ¡®required¡¯ his immediate attention. When the wind hit them, their robes started fluttering madly. The King spread his psychic field and calmed the surroundings, as there was no reason to subject them to his preferences. With grateful looks, they bowed deeply. ¡°Sire, Prince Benjamin has heard from the fateweavers, they say something has caused the matrix of fate to foretell of an uncertain future.¡± said Lord Manchester. ¡°We think it may have to do with an anomaly in the upper planes reported by the Council of Mages.¡± Lord Silverbrook added in a grave tone. The King nodded, and descended from his seat in the air. As his feet touched the ground, he summoned a robe to cover his bare chest. On his brow sat a thin crown, holding down his slicked black hair. His bright blue eyes met theirs and he gave them a look of exasperation. ¡°Don¡¯t let Ben¡¯s belief that fateweaving is infallible infect you. You both know the term ¡®fateweaving¡¯ is nothing but tradition. In fact, ¡®fate weaving¡¯ is an oxymoron. Fateweavers don¡¯t ¡®weave¡¯ anything. What they said just means that the variables the matrix was monitoring changed. It doesn¡¯t necessarily spell disaster. We really need to push a title change through committee for their entire order. Anyway, what was the anomaly?¡± The two council members exchanged a look, ¡°Not much is known yet, but there was an anomaly in the upper planes.¡± Silverbrook said. ¡°Yes, you just said that,¡± the king said with a sigh. He would have to find his own answers as usual; he didn¡¯t need a link to interact with the thought hub. ¡°Give me a moment, I¡¯m reading the report now,¡± he said, as he looked off into the distance. Crossing his arms as he mentally read everything that has been uploaded by anyone in his kingdom investigating the anomaly. ¡°They don¡¯t know anything about it. Wait¡­ Arch Mage Mathers just located it.¡± The king¡¯s eyes locked onto the Tower of Mages in the distance. ¡°It¡¯s just an extra-dimensional soul. It¡¯s possible that the new soul¡¯s path will affect some of our projections, but I doubt it will amount to much. Tell Ben to stop jumping at fate¡¯s shadow. And in the future, try to wait until you actually have something to worry about, before you jump to conclusions.¡± The King said sagely, and the wind returned. Taking the hint, the councilors returned through the floor as the King resumed his meditation session.
The cafeteria was another ridiculously large room. This one had long wooden tables organized in rows like a fancy dining hall at some ivy league university. Everything was buffet style along the walls, with employees moving around and refilling heated trays. The place wasn¡¯t filled to capacity, but it seemed like this was a busy time of day. I couldn¡¯t help but think back to what Mrs. Salvatore said; I¡¯m supposed to have an internal clock? My identity is how the world sees me? I found it annoying how everyone just keeps referencing things that I¡¯m supposed to know. For instance, what was ¡®the link¡¯ that she casually threw into conversation? ¡®Questions like these are going to keep coming up, considering that I¡¯m in an ENTIRELY different world. I need to find the local version of wikepedia.¡¯ I thought. I stood near the entrance, looking around like a tourist. People were forced to move around me to get to where they wanted to go. As I was starting to cause a backup, a waiter wearing green robes and an apron made his way through the crowd. When he saw he had my attention, he said ¡°Excuse me, you need help finding something? Or are you looking for your group?¡± ¡°It¡¯s my first time here. Do I just grab anything? Can I charge it to my room with this?¡± I asked, while holding up the token that Heather gave me at the front desk. With a puzzled look, he said ¡°The Center¡¯s Rest cafeteria doesn¡¯t charge for food. Your identi-key is just so your link can join the local hub. Didn¡¯t you pay attention during your introduction?¡± Not wanting to get into it, or go through my whole story again, I replied, ¡°I¡¯m just a special case, don¡¯t worry about it.¡± I waved it off and started to head toward the buffet. ¡°Thanks for the help, have a great day.¡± For me, the novelty of a new world is already starting to dim. I could already tell that the people here were going to annoy me just as much as they did back home. Probably even more-so than back home considering all their self-help bullshit. I wondered if I could exploit that somehow. Maybe I could market some motivational posters, or encouraging t-shirts. ¡®I¡¯m the change that I need¡¯, or ¡®Today is the first day of the rest of my life¡¯, and other such sayings that were totally common back home, but were probably considered clever and impressive here. Speaking of money, what the hell was going on with the economy here? How is all this free? Who pays for the Center? Weren¡¯t those market fruits ¡®two for a valen¡¯ or something? At least the food looked normal, with some odd exceptions. I saw some sliced ham, but the guy behind the counter was definitely not cutting it off a cooked pig. The guy was expertly removing slices of meat off a 6 ft long ¡®tube¡¯ of a torso. Both ends were cleanly sliced, and the whole thing was roughly cylindrical. I couldn¡¯t see any joints. Was it some kind of snake? ¡®Fuck it. It looks like ham. I¡¯m calling it tube ham,¡¯ I decided. I put a plate together, grabbed a pitcher of what I hoped was some kind of coffee, and threw a cup in my mouth. After collecting my meal, I found a seat as far away from anyone as possible. It was time to read the introduction packet and get some answers. While eating my meal, which was pretty good, I started reading. I made sure to begin from page 1 of the ¡®welcome to the center¡¯ indoctrination packet. The cover had a picture of Center associates working together and pointing at things. All of them were happy and good looking. It could be the welcome packet for any corporation, university, or even a cult I guess. I didn¡¯t skip the introduction because I figured there was information that everyone already knew. ¡®I¡¯ll need to be careful not to drink the kool-aid. However, this coffee is really good,¡¯ I noted. Royal Road is the home of this novel. Visit there to read the original and support the author. There was a lot of information that I pieced together from context. Like, the Center is a part of the government of Dorchester. Every city or town has a version of the Center. It manages civil functions like healthcare and education. ¡®OK, so it¡¯s a government healthcare/education system¡­ Is this whole place like Norway. Norway was like this, right?¡¯ I tried to remember. They offered classes on everything. I noticed that it was like a community center and ivy league university combined. While flipping through the class pages, I saw everything from accounting to monster hunting. ¡®Cool, they have pottery and ¡®beginning painting¡¯ classes. I heard that it was pretty easy to score there,¡¯ I thought to myself as I smiled at the idea of my future adventures with the hot housewives of the local community center. The introductions to the different ¡®branches¡¯ were very interesting. Branches were like colleges back home; e.g. ¡®branch of politics¡¯ ¡®branch of mathematics¡¯ ¡®branch of engineering¡¯ etc. The whole, ¡°If you¡¯re interested in pursuing a career in law, the branch of politics is essential to a strong foundation. Here at Center Dorchester we have a strong curriculum designed to help you reach your potential. Classes are available to all those who have completed¡­ blah blah blah¡±. There are satellite schools for children up to the age of 14. After the kids awaken they are considered adults in the eyes of the law and are allowed to choose where to go to secondary education. Basic secondary education usually lasts for up to 10 years, and then kids go out and get a job. It seems signing up for military service is really common. There are lot of mentions of monsters and dungeons, but I can¡¯t seem to find any information about them. It seems like the knowledge is so common, that no one bothered to include it. The economics section didn¡¯t help much either. Class descriptions talked about how to do accounting mostly. There were some interesting classes on appraising monster parts and dungeon town development. ¡®Is the kingdom expanding to find dungeons, or do dungeons just show up?¡¯ I wondered. Reminding myself to get some paper to write out questions for Nick, I continued my perusal. There was a really interesting section on the Center¡¯s association with the guards and the army. It seemed guards are the equivalent of the police. They are locally supported, and under the purview of the regional lords. It seems that in this world, the term ¡®City Lord¡¯ refers to whoever is in charge of a City, regardless of it¡¯s a man or a women. ¡®How progressive.¡¯ I thought, while chuckling. I could just imagine people being for or against it for tons of reasons. One side complaining that ¡®Lord¡¯ is a masculine name and a women in charge should be called ¡®Lady¡¯. The other side saying the calling someone a ¡®Lady¡¯ is inheriting a bias. ¡®Oh, there is a class on ¡®Lording¡¯!¡¯ I noted with excitement. Unfortunately, the class required a noble claim slot for potential ruling. The description was disappointing as well. It covered the standard departments, and how to address staffing concerns. I was hoping it was more spicy than just being a fancy version of a management class. In fact, everything in this world was very literal. When they talked about ¡®their center¡¯, they meant the actual center of themselves. As in, the metaphysical place that powers their abilities. ¡®That brings up a good point. Are there philosophy classes?¡¯ I wondered. Flipping through the book, there was a branch of philosophy. However, it seemed to focus on the scientific aspects; meaning that they only cover testing of verifiable data. For them, concepts like the afterlife and the self, were verifiable. I guess when you could actually TEST someone¡¯s soul you didn¡¯t have to stare at the stars and wonder what it all means. Even their psychology classes were about reading minds and emotions. The idea of privacy was just assumed. It seemed that it wasn¡¯t hard to keep people out of your head here. All the classes were about how to help people who voluntarily let mind readers muck around inside their head. ¡®Nut jobs, all of them.¡¯ I thought with a scowl. How can they be OK with someone going through their mind? Although, an even better question was how someone can dedicate their incredibly long life to reading other people¡¯s minds with the caveat that it was completely voluntary. Then there were entire classes that focus on the soul. Examinations of who you are, and what you want, all treating the soul like it was a jar that you can carry around and examine. Flipping through the pages, I got a sense of how people see the world. Imagination was a poorly developed skill. If everything that is esoteric can be measured, then no one does thought exercises. People don¡¯t sit around and think about what it would be like if they got turned into a gerbil. I looked up at the beautifully carved ceiling and spent a good 30 seconds trying to decide if that was a bad thing. I wondered if my imagination was why I was leveling so fast. ¡®I think differently.¡¯ I said to myself. When someone born here sees something they don¡¯t understand, they just look it up. That¡¯s probably where the world I left was headed. Why would a person try to figure something out, when they could just look up a video on it? At least when I¡¯m confused, I point my admittedly poor imagination-engine at whatever confuses me. It may not offer any immediate solutions, but I could always come up with a few ideas. First time seeing a tube ham? I try to think about what it came from, whereas people here will just go, ¡®that¡¯s weird. I wonder what that is¡¯, then move on. ¡®I wonder if there are creative writing classes. Yup. Here they are.¡¯ I noted with some enthusiasm. My happiness was short-lived, as the classes were focused solely on the writing. There were several writing classes about how to frame a story, proper grammar, and how to correctly reference scientific journals. There was even a writing class on how to correctly research your subject. ¡®I don¡¯t think it¡¯s wrong to research for a topic, but isn¡¯t creatively writing a defined concept a little¡­ oxymoronic,¡¯ I thought to myself. Closing my booklet and picking up my empty dishes, I stood up to leave. ¡®Whatever. I¡¯m done with this for now. I think I got the gist of it. People here are unimaginative but spiritual, in a very literal way. The Center is a government division that takes taxes and donations and turns them into a workforce and healthcare. The army is both local and national, the guard is local. Monsters and dungeons are dangerous, but profitable. Last but not least, I have a lot of schooling I need to catch up on.¡¯ I decided. Heading off to the library was easy, it was just on the other side of the dorm. Walking through the doors was like walking into any library. There was a large circular desk right at the front with librarians and stations. They all had the little crystals on their temples. I walked up to the front desk and introduced myself, ¡°Hi, I¡¯m new here and was just wondering how all of this works. How do I look up a book on a particular subject?¡± Smiling politely, the librarian said, ¡°There are two main ways associates can access information. Either use your link to access the library directly, or use the terminals to find a physical copy of whatever your looking for.¡± ¡°What exactly is a link?¡± I ask. With a look of pity on his face, he said ¡°You must be from a really small village.¡± He pointed to his temple. ¡°This is a link. It allows you to link to a station and access the information. You¡¯ll have to be careful not to use it for too long, as it can stress your mind and drain your center. Usually you go to one of the desks with a station, open a connection, then find what book you''re looking for. Then you disconnect and go get your book. Basic links aren¡¯t too expensive, and you can get them at most general stores. In the mean time, you can just ask me what you¡¯re looking for, and I can help you find it.¡± Seemed simple enough. Except that they have freaking brain interactive technology while still riding horses. ¡°I want a book on the basics of the ¡®identity¡¯ and skills. Oh, and an overview of leveling, the economy, and a map... And also pillars.¡± I said. He just stared at me like I was an idiot. ¡°OK, let¡¯s start with the book on identity and skills.¡± I amended my request with a smile. His temple lit up as he sighed, and he closed his eyes. ¡°This will work. ¡®What to know when you awaken¡¯ is a good choice. It is routinely checked out by new associates. Before I send you to the stacks, let me see if someone recently returned a copy.¡± he said. As he stood up and started going through some book carts, I thought about how much there is to learn. Looking around at the thousands of books and all the students working intently, I felt like I was really behind. I may not have been privy to most of the collected human knowledge back home, but I at least knew how to use a toaster there. Here, I was completely out of my depth. My incredible mastery at online searches for topic outlines wasn''t going to help me much here. Then my stubbornness and irritability reared its head and I thought to myself, ¡®Screw em, they can read all they want. I¡¯ve been baptized by comic books. Anime and fantasy culture are my pedigree. I got this.¡¯ The overly polite librarian returned with a thick book and interrupted my mental pep-talk, saying, ¡°Here you go. This covers the basics of what you need to know, now that you¡¯ve awakened.¡± Seeing his customer service smile, I couldn''t stop myself from responding with a sarcastic, ¡°Yeah, I can read the title. Thanks." Pausing to reign in my temper, I tried taking the edge off my cutting remark by adding a charming grin. "Can I take this with me?¡± I asked lightly. His smile now gone, he just placed a little brick on the counter and said, ¡°Put your chit on this, the book will be checked out under your name. You have 7 days to return it, or your account will be charged the full amount of the book plus a handling fee. Thank you, and may your path be wide and clear.¡± Then he sat back down, and looked behind me for the next person to help. I just chuckled and leaned forward to place my chit hanging on my neck to the brick, which flashed blue for a second. My smile was wide and clear, as I turned around and walked off to my room. On the way, I congratulated myself that I at least still had my acerbic wit, which was as sharp as ever. Chapter 9 - Living in a living world Lord Dorchen¡¯s day was not going well. He had ordered his idiot of a nephew executed. Which, of course, led to his wife throwing a fit (and his recently purchased Beskin vase). At least she eventually locked herself in her wing of the estate. Hopefully, she would stay there and not cause any other issues that he would have to deal with. He didn¡¯t understand why she cared so much, she should have understood why it had to happen. It¡¯s not like he wanted to kill the man. Was he just supposed to ignore the idiocy that the bastard displayed? There was a limit to his sufferance, and even being exiled to an estate as far from Dorchester as possible, that imbecile was still causing problems. He looked up from his status reports as the door to his office opened. Before his aide finished entering the room, Dorchen demanded, ¡°Report!¡± The aide gave a bow, then closed his eyes and activated his link. ¡°The Ghost division took care of the merchant train. There were no survivors, and all evidence should point them toward a rogue Islangur raiding party. All links were reported destroyed, and they looted everything to add to the confusion. 100 men have been left to stave off questions. The volunteers accepted the suicide price.¡± the aide finished his report and opened his eyes. Dorchen just nodded and sat in thought. The aide continued, ¡°What are your orders in regards to the estate. The guards on duty knew that they should not have let the merchant stay in the house. Should they be disposed of? We can bring in some more from the other estates.¡± Dorchen shook his head, ¡°No, the men are loyal. It was my nephew that offered the merchant passage through the gate. None of this would have happened if he just let the caravan set up in the assigned guest areas. To think, my plans have been put in jeopardy because my 40 year old level 24 of a nephew couldn¡¯t be bothered to WALK a mile to purchase furniture. Can you fathom how utterly clueless you have to be in order to not reach 30 by 40. If he had lived, he might not even have reached 50 before age caught him. To think a noble associated with the line of Dorchen was such a disappointment.¡± Dorchen¡¯s shoulders sagged. Time was not on his side, this diversion might buy them a day or two at most. All of his plans had to be moved up; drastically moved up. ¡°Sir, I thought he was your wife¡¯s sister¡¯s kid? He wasn¡¯t a Dorchen was he?¡± the aide asked curiously. ¡°What? No, he wasn¡¯t in the direct line. But he was still family by association. It doesn¡¯t matter. We have to push everything forward. How are the shipments for the Islangurs coming? There can be no trace left of what we were doing.¡± Dorchen asked with worry. ¡°The last of the shipments is ready to move, but it will take time to remove any traces of the production lines. As you know, the records have to be purged, molds destroyed, people paid to keep silent, or just silenced. It will be a few days.¡± the aide said. ¡°We may not have a few days. Just to be safe, start getting the plans for ¡®Rebel House¡¯ going. Don¡¯t activate anything, just get it ready.¡± Dorchen replied. ¡®Years of planning, falling apart because of a fat bastard who wanted to buy a chair¡¯ he lamented. ----- To find my dorm, all I had to do was look at the map included in my welcome packet. In the top left corner was my dorm number stapled to it. ¡®Convenient. Staples are multi-dimensional,¡¯ I noted. I followed the map, and the third floor was easy to get to. The halls were filled with people, some standing in the hallway chatting and gossiping, others making their way about their day. It was very college like; I expected it to be more like an apartment building. Once I found my room, I examined the door. It was a dark wood with a white plaque with the number 3.18 in shiny black. ¡®Ha¡­ at least I¡¯m close to ''pie'',¡¯ he thought. Along the right side of the door, there was a thin clear crystal-like strip, which I guess is where I was supposed to place my chit. I leaned forward and held the chit to the crystal. The entire strip turned blue, and I heard a click. Opening the door led to a room that was maybe 15ft x 10ft or around that. It had simple furniture, including a single bed, desk, closet; all the basics. The only thing of note was a small square mat taking up a corner. The over head lighting was nice, it looked like some kind of square that produced an omnidirectional calm light. I figured the mat might be for meditation. It made sense that daily reflection would be a thing here. In the closet there were three neatly folded sets of clothes, underwear included. The robes were a muted beige color. There was even a cute diagram explaining how to wear them. Maybe whatever job, or duty I signed up for in the future will earn me a cool color. But for now, standard beige will have to do. ¡®Should I return this shirt to Captain Angelton? Eh¡­ I¡¯ll wash it and keep it as a spare.¡¯ I decided. Maybe he¡¯ll swing by sometime to check on me. There was only one door which led to a large bathroom that was as long as the room. One side had a pretty big shower, the other a bath. I bet some study was done on bath-time reflecting being good for personal development. The sink had a small reusable box filled with a toothbrush and other sundries. The toilet looked like what I was used to, so no surprises there. Now that I¡¯ve had some food, it looked like my digestion has been kick started. ¡®Time to christen my kingdom,¡¯ I thought as I went to do my business. After I took care of my personal needs, I took a shower and tossed my clothes in a basket by the bathroom door. My boots were tossed at the closet. Wearing just a towel, I didn¡¯t feel like putting on a robe, so I went to peruse my book while air drying. I noticed that the room had a window behind some curtains which was nice. ¡®OK, let¡¯s learn about identity. Is there an index listing for clock?¡¯ I wondered. There in fact WAS a listing in the index for the clock, it was under ¡®time sense¡¯. I saw that it was in the third chapter, so I figured I¡¯d get to it, when I get to it. The prologue was all drivel about how being an awakened is the start of your journey. Who you are is represented by your identity in a simple and easy to reference format. Learning to ¡®feel¡¯ and ¡®understand¡¯ your identity is a lifelong commitment, and an important part of your growth. All I really took away from the introduction was that it seems when you awaken, you are deepening your connection to the ¡®essence of the world¡¯ and your ¡®identity¡¯ is how the world sees you. The skills themselves are representations of your individual progress to mastering skills that exist for everyone, and are ¡®carried on the essence¡¯. I think I remember an eastern religion having something like that. ¡®Wait, I remember this!¡¯ I thought with excitement. There was an anime that I used to watch that referenced the ¡®Akashic record¡¯. I remember looking it up to see what religion it came from. I found out that it wasn¡¯t from anything old if I remember correctly. The concept actually came from some new religion from the 1800¡¯s. They said it came from something else, but it didn¡¯t. It boiled down to something like ¡®the sum of all knowledge is recorded in the ether, and can be accessed by people with high spirituality¡¯. I was so pissed at the time. I went looking for a deep ancient revelation, and all I found was a relatively recent bunch of boring occultists. Regardless, here there is something similar. This world has a ¡®new age¡¯ spiritual field that is everywhere and all knowing. ¡®HAHA, they even use crystals!¡¯ I snickered. I was so amused, that I took a break to examine my chit. Yup, it¡¯s still just a small piece of metal with a crystal in the middle. With a shrug, I returned to my reading. Eventually, I ended up getting through a big chunk of the book, probably due to the fact that I tended to gloss over the ¡®interpretations¡¯ and ¡®opinions¡¯ of experts. I noticed that people here suck at extrapolating information. From what I could tell, their version of analysis went something like: ¡®we can prove conclusively that identity is merely a listing of your qualities¡¯, therefore ¡®3 pages of restating the same thing without any actual conjecture or offering conclusions¡¯. I had questions damn it. Can you only learn along prescribed paths? What happens if you learn incorrectly? What if you learn a crappy way to fold your laundry? Does practice matter? Love this story? Find the genuine version on the author''s preferred platform and support their work! At least they had all of the proven facts listed clearly, with references in the back of the book to famous studies. The section on leveling speeds was almost useless. While there were people who leveled extremely fast, getting to level 100 by 100 was very unlikely. The chart in the book said a ¡®fast¡¯ leveling speed could get a person to level 100 by the age of 1000. Whereas the ¡®average¡¯ leveling speed would put the level 100 age at 50121 years old, which was impossible according to the book. Someone could live to over 500, but their level would have to rise pretty quickly, and keep rising quickly. The term they used was ¡®age creep¡¯. From the bunches of charts and curves, the time between levels continues to rise, but the rate of aging stays the same. So while a person slows their aging significantly during their early levels, as the time between levels rises, eventually the person in question begins aging faster than they are leveling. Once ¡®age creep¡¯ has overtaken leveling speed, people begin to visually age. So anyone who looks over 30 has been caught by ¡®age creep¡¯. By the end of the chapter, I was completely confused. The charts showed that a person who leveled to 100 by 1000 was considered fast. 100 by 75 was considered very fast. 100 by 50000 would be average, and slow wasn¡¯t even calculated to 100. The life expectancy charts were also confusing. The faster you leveled, the slower you aged. That made sense in theory, but seeing the numbers made it confusing. For a very fast leveler, a person could take 1.39 years for their final level. While for an average leveler, it was 4555.6 years. Worse still, your leveling speed is not set, it varies as you go about your life. Every chart made sure to stress that these were observed averages, and were not to be considered factual. The subject was depressing, but also interesting. Especially as there was a note that at level 100 ¡®age creep¡¯ is reset and you are reborn or something. The book didn¡¯t elaborate, it just made the statement so that the charts in the book weren¡¯t used for Tier 2 ¡®age creep¡¯ calculations. Eventually, I decided that I wasn¡¯t going to understand it. So, I¡¯d just have to rely on a mirror to tell me how old I looked. ¡®It worked for hollywood, it will work for me.¡¯ I thought. When I moved on to a new subject, I was both relieved and hopeful. Unfortunately, the section on traits was equally depressing, but in a completely different way. I was damn-near heartbroken when I read the section on traits that you can acquire from mastering skills. The introduction to the section made traits sound like something to aim for. Yet, getting into specifics, I read the section twice because I figured I was missing something. I even checked my identity for traits and it turns out that I already had two. Unique birth ¨C You came to this world by facing the fires of reincarnation, rather than being ushered into a new life. Your soul is stronger for the experience. New sight ¨C Essence is new to you. Before you were blind, but now you can see. Variations in the world¡¯s essence flow are easier to notice. My golden finger is apparently just stating what already happened to me. The traits I got don¡¯t seem to really DO anything. Looking through the possible traits you could earn, all I could think was ¡®traits suck¡¯. For example, if you got a specific set of 25 essence skills above level 50, you could gain the ¡®essence focused¡¯. Although it sounded great, the text read as: Essence Focused ¨C You have immersed yourself in the essence of the world. You are able to stress your center more than before. ¡®Well, that¡¯s fucking useless. No percentage increase to magic damage? How about an increase in my mana pool or something?¡¯ I thought to myself. There was an entire chapter on traits and how to gain them. Not one of them looked particularly useful. ¡®I¡¯ll get them as I practice stuff. Considering my skills are like under 10, this isn¡¯t something I need to worry about.¡¯ I decided. Near the end of the most useless book I had ever read, I did find something interesting. I learned that your identity didn¡¯t receive information from the world. It was actually YOU who was receiving information. The world had an actual consciousness that had been born from all the sentient species that used this floating rock as a home. The world¡¯s information was all around, and as a person interacted with it the resulting conversation was interpreted by the mind as a person¡¯s ¡®identity¡¯. Just by being part of the world, a person receives a language download from the ambient essence. Not to mention that anyone can ask the world what time it is, with nothing but a thought. Languages and times both updated in real time by region, but it seemed the mental translation was automatic. It was amazing. Every word spoken was translated and incorporated into the language, with the meaning carried alongside the sound. ¡®I wonder what someone would hear if I called them some of the more oddly specific insults from back home. Would ¡®bitch¡¯ translate as ¡®a female dog¡¯ or would it be ¡®a whiny person¡¯ like I intended. Intention has to matter, right?¡­. And what about translations for acronyms? Or how about phrases like ¡®checkmate¡¯, do I say one word and then they get hit with an influx of context? Maybe I should write out a list of words to sneak into conversations, just to see what happens.¡¯ Nero wondered to himself. Luckily, the world didn¡¯t seem to want anything. The consciousness was really just a collection of the floating essence of what most people believed. So if everyone in an area thought it was 5 in the morning when the sun is in a particular place in the sky, then everyone automatically knew that it was 5. So, the time was really just what slice of the 30 hour day was locally accepted. The concept was baffling. I did think it was kind of cool that seconds, minutes, and hours were the same as what I was used to; at least as far as I could tell. The breakdown came from their central number to everything being 3. 3 aspects of a person: mind, body, and soul, held together by confluence. The whole thing about time being influenced by the world was mind-blowing. It wasn¡¯t even brainwashing or implanting knowledge, it was the soul equivalent of putting your hand in water to check the temp. You could get the basics of almost all knowledge if you could manage to immerse yourself in the ¡®essence flow¡¯. Although some things were easier than others to learn. According to the book, everyone could learn to communicate, gain an innate sense of time and direction, and an ability to sense and interact with essence. I closed my eyes and leaned back in my chair, still only in my towel, and tried to open my senses. Like trying to listen to a conversation that was going on down the hall, I heard it. I didn¡¯t HEAR it with my ears, it was more like I heard it in my head. There were no words, just a feeling that it was there. ¡®I wonder how long I¡¯ve been at this.¡¯ I thought. Then, suddenly I knew it had been around 7 minutes. I also knew that it was around 9:45 right now. The day lasts 30 hours and there are 300 days a year. 3 really is a very important number here. ¡®I swear if I find out that they worship triangles, I¡¯m beating someone¡¯s ass.¡¯ I thought with a frown on my face. On that note, I opened my eyes and decided to call it a day. I spread my towel out on the chair and walked over to my bed. I then realized that I had no idea how to turn off the lights. Looking around front door, I found a small crystal plate. When I touched it, it glowed a little. ¡®Cool.¡¯ I thought with a smile. It worked like a dimmer slide. If I tapped it once, it turned on or off. If I slide my fingers up and down, I could change the brightness. ¡®Learn something new everyday.¡¯ I thought. ¡®THAT would be a great t-shirt idea for this world.¡¯ Taking a look around the room, I couldn¡¯t find an alarm clock. Without any better ideas, I figured I¡¯d check the welcome packet before I went downstairs to the front desk. ¡®I really don¡¯t want to get dressed, just to go ask for how to set an alarm¡¯ I thought as I flipped to the section on room amenities. Apparently, the default room alarm goes off at 6. The alarm can be personalized and changed by accessing the room station through the link. ¡®Well, 6 should work. I don¡¯t have to be at Nick¡¯s until¡­ did Mrs. Salvatore tell me what time I was supposed to be at Nicks?¡¯ I wondered. ¡®Eh, whatever. I¡¯ll get there when I get there.¡¯ I thought, while putting tomorrow¡¯s problems in tomorrow¡¯s inbox for future Nero to deal with. As I laid down and tried to shut off my brain, My mind went over my first day in this weird world. ¡®Last night I was in another world. I died this morning, then took a ride on the after life express, then I stole a body. Now I¡¯m at a learning institution called ¡®The Center¡¯. And despite sounding like a haven for super villains, The Center isn¡¯t evil. Instead, it¡¯s filled with new age spiritualists on personal journeys of self-discovery and growth. In fact, the only evil I¡¯ve seen since I got here is the massacre that I woke up to. Wait a minute. If everyone here is so into personal development and what-not, then why the hell is there a war going on?¡¯ I wondered. Forcefully banishing the thoughts about complicated manners, I resumed my attempt to sleep. Sighing, I focused on things that I cared about as I slipped into Morpheus¡¯ embrace ¡®That girl earlier in the market really did have a nice ass. That Heather was pretty cute too, but she¡¯s probably 50. eh, focus on the ass.¡¯ I thought as I drifted peacefully into sleep. Chapter 10 - Introduction to the world at large, very large Waking up at 4 like she always did, Vera Salvatore was ready to meet the day like it was on purpose. Leaving her husband Nick in bed, she went to her personal training studio in the courtyard outside. After some light stretching, she did 30 minutes of martial training with her preferred weapon, the bo staff, and 30 minutes of intense unarmed forms. She then finished up her morning workout with some more stretching, this time focusing on extension. As she walked down the hall and into her bedroom, she saw Nick laying in bed like a lump. ¡®Every Morning!... I swear I¡¯m going to poison his dinner one of these days. That man is a constant migraine. Come on Vera, don¡¯t focus on the negative. You¡¯re better than that, and you love him. He is a great husband. He bought you that Castle and Son¡¯s hand-stitched pair of boots for your birthday, which he REMEMBERED.¡¯ She walked right past him as her internal monologue ran in her head simultaneously berating and praising her husband, like it did every morning. Meticulously groomed and ready, she took the time to double check herself in the mirror. She nodded to her reflection with a smile. Walking back into the bedroom to check on Nick, she found him laying on his back with his mouth open... like a putz. She sighed and walked over to the overly large bed. Picking up her pillow, she used it to hit him in his stupid face, ¡®SMACK¡¯ ¡°Get up Nick, you have Mr. Walker coming in this morning and you have to file a report on his status by 3pm for the intake board.¡± She didn¡¯t bother to stay and appreciate his resultant fight with her pillow. Walking downstairs, she felt much better. Starting the coffee maker with a wave of her hand, she sat down and activated her link. Joining the house system, she searched for any alerts or updates. Aside from a city-wide alert about the 100 man squad of Gurs that were killed last night, there was nothing important. She heard the chime for her coffee and got back up. She smoothed out her robes, and collected her favorite mug from it¡¯s place next to the sink. Memories of her visit to the ¡®Sanctum of Perseverance¡¯ ran through her head like they always did as she filled it with her artisan coffee blend. Now supplied with coffee, she collected one of her pastries from Pellitie¡¯s bakery, and sat back down to address her personal pings left over from the day before. ¡®Arg¡­ I¡¯m going to kill Bennings,¡¯ she thought. Yesterday after she told him that he needed to focus on ¡®helping people¡¯ rather than just following protocol, he took it upon himself to contact the parents of Rodney Tipsman and tell them that their son was the only survivor of a merchant raid by Gurs. ¡®Well, there goes my morning. That¡¯s the last brick in his house of failure. I¡¯m going to send him to Jenny over in disposal and reclamation services. She¡¯ll find him a job that even HE can¡¯t screw up. Maybe he¡¯ll learn something,¡¯ she thought with a sigh. Setting a reminder about dealing with the Tipsmans, she continued to go through paperwork while she sat and enjoyed her breakfast. Finishing the last bite of her pastry, she closed her link and just enjoyed the silence. That pleasant sensation lasted a good 3 seconds until the kitchen door opened loudly to Nick walking in. Opening her eyes, the first thing she noticed was that his hair was still wet. Much too loudly, Nick said, ¡°Good morning darling. That Nero kid is coming in at 7 right?¡± without waiting for a response he kept walking and waving his hands as pots and plates started flying out of cabinets. ¡®How can his hair still be wet? I bought him a hair dryer!¡¯ She wondered with a frown growing on her face. ¡°How great is it that some soul fused with a kid right near Dorchester. It could have happened anywhere. With all the essence activity down there, it could have happened in the middle of the war in the south. Then that soul would have just been kicked right back out when they died again. It¡¯s so interesting! You know, I¡¯ve gained a lot of growth from just talking to him. That kid is an experience engine. By the way, did Jonas ever get back to you about the non-military engine design that I submitted to the Travelers Board? What was I saying?¡­ Right! That kid Nero is something else. I really like that grindstone thing. It¡¯s imp-¡± ¡°NICK!¡± She interrupted. Everything in the room stopped. Nick¡¯s breakfast was half made and his toast was floating immobile in the air. She took a deep breath and said, ¡°It¡¯s 6 in the morning. Calm down. Nero will be in your office at 7am. Your report on him is due at 3. Jonas said that it¡¯s in committee, but no one thinks it¡¯s worth the effort; not when it¡¯s so much nicer to have an intelligent mount. And for the love of the gods PLEASE clean the dishes when you¡¯re done.¡± Seemingly having vented her frustration, and once again at peace, she returned to her coffee and closed her eyes. Sufficiently chagrined, Nick went back to his breakfast preparations in silence. Soon, they were out the door and walking across their courtyard to their private astra-platform for teleportation. Vera once again complained in her mind about the fact that they wouldn¡¯t allow private platforms in the lower city due to energy concerns. It cost enough for that to be a reasonable argument, but it didn¡¯t help her get to the office any quicker. Nick was talking about something which she was doing her best to ignore. ¡®Farthing better have his expense reports filled out for the c-103¡¯s or I¡¯m going to have him go through all of the duty sheets for last week. That will show him,¡¯ she thought as she and her husband stepped off the platform, now in lower 7th. -------- The alarm went off at 6, and I shot up in bed. Since I didn¡¯t have a link, I couldn¡¯t interact with my room station to turn off the alarm. ¡®That¡¯s number one on the list then,¡¯ I thought as I stumbled around trying to figure out how to make the noise go away. Seemingly without me doing anything, the alarm turned off. Looking around the room, I couldn¡¯t figure out what happened. I was wide awake, and I realized my morning was starting off with an overwhelming feeling of unfinished business. This did not bode well for the rest of the day. Shaking off my tension, I tried to get control of the situation. I walked over to the desk, still naked, and sat down to start writing a list of what I needed to get done. ¡®1: Ask the front desk about a link. If they don¡¯t have one, get one from Nick. 2: Breakfast. 3: Off to Nick¡¯s office. 4: Lunch.¡¯ Reminding myself not to forget the map I was given, I made sure to place it next to my pad of paper. Finished with my anemic list, I ripped it off the pad of paper and placed it on top of my map. Staring at the four short lines, I decided I needed another list. I labeled this one ¡®Things to poke Nick with¡¯: ¡®1: Economy/job¡¯ I wrote with relish. That¡¯s a nice easy topic to start with. And sooner or later, the state was going to want to kick me out, and I was going to have to pay for things myself. Thoughts of taking care of myself led to my next idea. I grabbed my sad first list and added a ¡®5: Sign up for combat classes¡¯. ¡®Combat seems to be a big part of life here, and maybe the basic class will have some magic,¡¯ I thought with a smile. With a nod to recognize how great an idea that was, I went back to the list for Nick. In bold letters, I wrote ¡®2: Magic training¡¯. Then I underlined it twice. As I tried to think of anything I was missing, I remembered that I was supposed to have a meeting with Mrs. Salvatore too. ¡®Why am I calling her Mrs. Salvatore and NOT calling Nick Mr. Salvatore,¡¯ I thought to myself, and then immediately answered my own question. ¡®Because Mrs. Salvatore projects an image of a professionalism with leadership qualities, and Nick comes off like someone who gets excited about ant farms.¡¯ Looking at my two, admittedly, thin lists, I adamantly ignored that I didn¡¯t have much to do and proudly thought, ¡®This should be enough to get started.¡¯ Time was wasting, so I grabbed a set of clothes and a robe from the cabinet, then headed to the bathroom for a shower. ¡®That time-sense thing is still weird,¡¯ I thought as I dropped my clothes on the counter and got down to business. After getting my appearance taken care of, I collected my lists and my map, then left for the front desk. The entryway was a mad house. Well, it was this world¡¯s equivalent of a mad house. Everyone was standing patiently while waiting in lines going back 15 deep, and all the clerks at the counter were occupied. The entryway was filled with people leaving to start their day, while the class-board-hub-station-thing for classes was surrounded by patient people waiting for their turn. This tale has been unlawfully obtained from Royal Road. If you discover it on Amazon, kindly report it. ¡®This is what the DMV would look like if everyone had their morning coffee, there was no traffic on the way, and the employees enjoyed their jobs,¡¯ I thought. Looking around, I decided to just ask Nick for a link rather than wait in line. Decision made, I headed off to grab a cup of coffee, and whatever they have that resembles a pop tart. After collecting a glazed pastry of some kind and a conveniently large paper coffee cup full of morning bliss, I made my way through the crowd toward Nick¡¯s office. Against all odds, I arrived on time. Leaving the elevator on the 5th floor I saw a new person at the desk. As I walked up, I could see them making notes while their temple glowed blue through their link. I waited patiently for their call (or whatever they call it) to finish. Once the little blue light turned off, the lady at the desk looked up and said ¡°Good Morning, how can I help you?¡± ¡°I have a meeting scheduled with Nick Salvatore.¡± I said. ¡°One moment please. Name?¡± she replied, and her link lit up again. ¡°Nero Walker¡± After a few seconds, she frowned and look confused. She then looked up at me and said, ¡°He¡¯s in lab 3. Just head down that hallway and follow the signs.¡± I gave her a nod and walked off. From a few feet away I heard her mutter, ¡°Good luck¡±. ¡®Well, that¡¯s not ominous at all. What the hell is he going to have me doing? I thought we were just going to talk about my identity and the world and stuff. Now that I thought about it, I had no idea what was supposed to happen. This should prove to be interesting at least,¡¯ I thought. The signs were easy to see, and I found the lab without issue. The doors were large and metal, but they didn¡¯t have a handle. Not seeing what I was supposed to do, I knocked on the door. Not hearing anything when I knocked lightly, I decided to give it a good whack. Soon one of the doors activated, and it slid into the wall and disappeared. Nick was standing there with a confused and annoyed look on his face. He looked around like he was expecting a group, and then his eyes focused on me. ¡°What are you doing boy? Why didn¡¯t you ping the door? You can¡¯t just bang on things. I understand you don¡¯t know anything, but common courtesy transcends stupidity,¡± he shouted as I just returned a blank stare. ¡°Well?¡± he asked. I decided that if he was going to be a hothead, I¡¯d return his snark in kind, ¡°I¡¯m guessing I¡¯d need a link to ¡®ping the door¡¯. I don¡¯t have a link.¡± ¡°How do you NOT have a link, You can¡¯t enter the city without being registered, and if you don¡¯t have a link you can apply for a temporary one until you can buy one. Everyone has a link, unless you live in the middle of nowhere.¡± Nick said. His logic was impeccable, but he was still wrong. ¡°Well, I came in with the soldiers from the merchant train massacre, then I got dropped off at the center. It just never came up. And I¡¯ve seen lots of people without a link on their head. People do take them off don¡¯t they? As a matter of fact, didn¡¯t you already know all this? Why didn¡¯t you give me a link yesterday? Aren¡¯t you supposed to be part of my ¡®intake¡¯ or whatever? Do I need to talk to your supervisor?¡± I asked in mock anger. That put Nick on his heels. Seemingly stunned, he didn¡¯t seem to know how to respond. ¡°What? I am the supervisor.¡± The confusion seemed to take the wind out of his anger-kite. Taking a step back, he lowered his tone and seemed to welcome me into the room. ¡°Don¡¯t worry about it, we¡¯ll get you a link. To answer your question, people do take their link off. They put them in their pocket and wait for them to ping. The city network uses them to find people and if someone gets injured they automatically call for aid. The military and guard usually have implants, or are high enough level that they don¡¯t need them. Although very few people in Dorchester don¡¯t need a link. Almost everyone has a link, because everyone uses the thought-hub. Hell, even higher level mounts have a version of the links.¡± Nick explained in a tone that calmed down the situation. Although his words did nothing but raise my eyebrows in panic. ¡°You¡¯re telling me that this is a police state! People are being tracked and monitored at all times? How is the network managed? Who holds the keys to ultimate power?¡± I rattled off questions in rapid fire as we stood just inside the door. Unconsciously, I refused to enter further into what appeared to be some kind of research lab. Large machines and crystal apparatuses were all over the place. There were even large open areas with dummies, both wood and metal, lined up for testing. Although the walls were still wood and fancy looking, this was definitely a domain of science. Nick¡¯s eyes widened and he looked confused. He leaned back and interrupted my rant. ¡°What the hell are you talking about? What¡¯s a police state? I understand the words, but you make it sound terrible.¡± I lowered my voice, now containing my burgeoning fear, and said in a whisper, ¡°A police state is where the population lives under threat of police action at all times. Every action they take is monitored and judged as to whether it is detrimental to the state. Harsh and immediate punishments are given out for anyone causing trouble.¡± Nick leaned forward, listening intently. ¡°And?¡± he asked, as if waiting for me to go on. ¡°You¡¯re alright with that?¡± I hissed. Nick gave me a look that I was increasingly becoming familiar with. It was his ¡®you¡¯re an idiot¡¯ face. ¡°I¡¯m too tired to talk to you without coffee. Just follow me and don¡¯t touch anything.¡± He walked off, rubbing his forehead, and headed toward a kitchen station along the wall. I could hear him mumbling complaints about ¡®frames of reference¡¯ and ¡®stupid assumptions¡¯. I followed, a little confused, and now much more suspicious about the links. Pouring himself a cup of coffee, he added some sugar-like substance, then gestured for me to grab one. He then sat down at the table, while sighing like an old man. Taking a sip, he took his time collecting his thoughts. Looking me in the eye, he said, ¡°I think you¡¯re having a context issue. Let me explain what the links are, and what they do. I¡¯ll also give you a little general world knowledge so you can stop being so ¡®shocked¡¯ all the time. I haven¡¯t been around you much, but your expressions are getting annoying.¡± He took another sip of his coffee and continued, ¡°Let¡¯s start with a little history. The history of this region is very long and much too large to cover in detail, so I¡¯ll be covering a broad view of the topics in question. This way I can give you some general information from which you can draw your own conclusions. By the way, I¡¯ve never met anyone who can give me a headache when I try to follow their line of logic. It¡¯s very annoying, while also quite refreshing.¡± Taking another sip, he held his hand out to the side and a shimmer in the air created a small hologram of the city, it was HUGE. He started his lecture as the hologram provided a visual aid. ¡°This is Dorchester. Founded by the line of Dorchen a little over 1800 years ago. It was ruled by that line until Linas Dorche took over and was caught embezzling funds. He was then executed by the Populators, which are best described as kingdom-wide guards that search out corruption and serve the people first, then the royals, then lastly the nation. Dorchester is currently ruled by Lord Heleema Cosgrave. The Cosgraves assumed control at the behest of the royals a little over 600 years ago.¡± While he was talking, I watched the hologram fly over and through the city until it abruptly zoomed out. Now I was looking at a large swatch of land with sections of mountains and lakes all the way of to the sea with some islands. There was a region highlighted in orange that covered most of the map named ¡®Oglivarch¡¯, with many dots like Dorchester peppered across it, many on the coast. ¡°This is Oglivarch. As you can see, Dorchester is just one of the cities near the southern edge. This region here,¡± a small section near the bottom of the map lit up in blue. ¡°This is known as ¡®The Strates¡¯. Dorchester is just one of the cities that are under Duke Michael Stratting. Well, his wife actually rules from here,¡± and a city named Stratting lit up in the selected area, quite far from Dorchester. ¡°The Duke is in the capital of Oglivarch, representing the interests of The Strates.¡± Another dot lit up much nearer the center of the country. My mind was blown. ¡°Hold on,¡± I interrupted, while waving my hands to ward off the information overload. ¡°I¡¯m never gonna remember all this crap. How big is this world, can you bring up a globe?¡± Nick shrugged, and took another sip of his coffee. The hologram zoomed out, and out, and then I got my first look at my new world. I couldn¡¯t believe it. There were tons of land masses, no continents as I knew them. There must be 50 of them. I watched in awe as the globe lazily spun above the table. I asked Nick, ¡°For frame of reference, can you show me where Oglivarch is on this map?¡± The globe spun to a stop and tilted a little. On one of the land masses, not even near an edge, was a tiny discoloration. ¡°That¡¯s Oglivarch on the continent of Plastia. Which is named for the great dragon that calls this continent her territory,¡± Nick continued, as though what he just said wasn¡¯t fucking crazy. I pointed at the little blemish of a country and said, ¡°You mean to tell me, that the entire country you showed me earlier, which was already big, is in just that highlighted section?¡± ¡°Yup¡± he replied. ¡°That doesn¡¯t make any sense. How is the gravity of the planet not crushing people right now?¡± I exclaimed. ¡°I don¡¯t understand what you''re asking,¡± Nick replied confused. ¡°You know what gravity is right?¡± ¡°Yes¡± ¡°You know how to use science to determine gravity?¡± ¡°Yes¡± ¡°And the math checks out that a human being can be on a mass this size and not compress into a pancake?¡± I asked incredulously. ¡°Um¡­. Yes,¡± Nick replied, still confused. ¡°Look Nero, I¡¯m pretty sure your soul came from somewhere pretty far from here. The soul doesn¡¯t really hold memories as such. It is simply WHO you are. Then the mind shines those memories on the soul and visa versa. So when your soul took over your body, which was at the time empty of a mind and soul, it imprinted the mind it had available. Although you don¡¯t remember everything, there are a lot of underlying assumptions you have about how the world works that are just wrong. That¡¯s not a bad thing. It¡¯s an entirely new perspective. Whatever function that happens during the cleaning process in the upper planes, didn¡¯t work correctly on you. You have a perspective from what is likely an entirely different section of space. Maybe a different plane. Definitely not anywhere around here,¡± Nick finished with a smile as he drank the last of his coffee and got up to get more. I sat there in silence trying to filter what Nick said through my understanding of what happened to me. ¡®Ok, no more assumptions. Or, at least, fewer assumptions,¡¯ I promised myself. ¡®This world is gigantic and I know nothing. I¡¯m gonna have to hug Nick¡¯s leg until I have some idea as to what I should be doing. This transmigration thing is not as easy as it looks in the webnovels.¡¯ Nick returned to the table, this time with a bagel in addition to his coffee. ¡°Now about the link. About 500 years ago, it was found that you could use essence crystals to create a mind link with a willing partner. Hugo Dieter was a genius, and he used this theory to create a large Thought Center for people to pool their knowledge. It didn¡¯t work at first, because everyone was fighting to find a mind in all the congestion that amounted to the first Thought Center. Luckily, Plastia got annoyed at all the noise the psychic field was generating and came to figure out what was causing all the shouting. You see, an interesting feedback happens when using a large essence crystal to filter more than 10 minds¡­ Doesn¡¯t matter, that¡¯s not relevant right now. Anyway, she showed up and scared the crap out of everyone. See, in the entire history of Oglivarch, people only knew of her through legends. So when a dragon showed up the size of an army outside the gates, then shrunk herself to be a woman and walked up asking to be shown¡­¡± Nick paused as he started laughing out loud, as if he was reminiscing about a college story. ¡°Sorry, this is my favorite part. Gods bless that man for recording the entire history of his discovery. Anyway, she walks up to the gates and says to the guard who is frozen in fear. ¡®Take me to the idiot who''s injecting his stupidity into an essence matrix loudly enough for me to hear it from across the damn continent.¡¯¡± At this point, Nick was slamming his hand on the table and howling. It took a while for Nick to finally compose himself and continue his lecture, ¡°Over the next few years, she showed Dieter how to create a programmable essence matrix to filter and store information. The Thought-Hub doesn¡¯t really allow for personal interaction, it would melt the brain to filter it on your own. So through a series of matrices, different functions were developed, with new ones being developed every day. If you don¡¯t want your information on it, no one will care. The tracking function, while automatic, is only queried as a byproduct of something else. That term you used before, the ¡®key to the kingdom¡¯, doesn¡¯t exist. It would be much easier to just have a mage scry for you, and teleport the guards to you. An entire division of Logicians are dedicated to trying to filter OUT information from being arbitrarily collected and unused in the Thought-Hub. The link became so widespread because it can¡¯t be weaponized, and it is safe. It really is just a place for you to store your information in a way that no one can get access to without your knowledge. If you want to get into the science behind it, feel free. No one is stopping you.¡± Nick finished his second cup of coffee, and stood up dusting his hands. Then, with a flick of his wrist, his cup flew toward the sink and landed without a crash. ¡°Now,¡± he said, ¡°Enough of you learning from me, now I want to learn from you. We¡¯ve already wasted enough time on things you could just read in a book. Come along now.¡± Then he walked off toward one of the testing areas. ¡®This guy is just begging to be fucked with,¡¯ I thought to myself, as I watched him walk off while just assuming I¡¯d follow. Chapter 11 - You must make sacrifices for science. Yes I mean YOU. When Director Charles Weatherby heard the Council of Leadership posited the possibility of a connection between the anomaly that occurred in the upper planes and the disruption of the fate matrix, Arch-Mage Mathers immediately contacted the leadership of the Fateweavers. Within the hour, he had arrived at the Tower of Magic. The two disciplines had had their disagreements in the past, but they would put those aside for the sake of the kingdom. The Director was a short man, with a penchant for staying indoors and avoiding unnecessary physical tasks. However, he knew that this situation called for his personal attention. The Tower of Magic had the most advanced scrying systems available in Oglivarch, and he needed to see what they were dealing with. ¡®Why did they make these blasted hallways so long,¡¯ the director groused to himself, as he huffed toward the scrying lab. Finally making it to the door, he took his time to fix his robes. Air swirled around him as he made sure that he was dry, and that no signs of his exertions remained. Adjusting his favorite hat, he gave himself a once over in a conjured mirror. Nodding to his reflection, he pinged the lab door and readied himself for what was sure to be a meeting that could affect the whole of Oglivarch. Receiving the signal to enter, Director Weatherby opened the door to Arch-Mages Jennings and Mathers vehemently arguing over some holographic data. In the center of the room was a large display following the movements of a young man going about his day. Confused as to what was going on, he interrupted the two bickering mages. ¡°What the hell is happening here, I was told that you identified the threat to the matrix of fate!¡± he said in a pompous voice. The Arch-Mages went silent and looked at him like they were surprised he was so worked up. Jennings then turned to Mathers and pointed a finger in accusation. ¡°What did you tell him? The boy isn¡¯t a threat, he¡¯s a scientific phenomenon!¡± Mathers stared back like he was insulted. ¡°I didn¡¯t say anything of the sort. Don¡¯t you go pointing your finger at me.¡± Weatherby sighed to himself, ¡®I hate dealing with mages. It¡¯s always like this.¡¯ He held up his hands and snapped his fingers while imbuing them with essence. A loud ¡®SNAP¡¯ echoed thoughout the chamber. ¡°Gentleman, how about you just tell me what¡¯s going on?¡± Jennings gave Mathers a look that dared him to start talking. Mathers huffed and went back to the displays. Sporting a triumphant smile, Jennings walked over to Weatherby and waved for his attention to be directed at the large display. ¡°Meet Mr. Nero Walker. A fourteen year old young man who was forcibly awakened when an extra-dimensional soul burst through the upper planes and settled into a recently unoccupied body just outside Dorchester.¡± Eyes widened in surprise, Weatherby looked at the display which was showing Nero walking through a courtyard. ¡°This is the anomaly? How can his appearance cause so much discord in the fate matrix?¡± Jennings snorted, ¡°That¡¯s because you barely try to follow the math behind the machine. Your order is buying into your own legend.¡± Seeing that Weatherby was about to object, he continued, ¡°Calm down and let me explain. You know that the fate matrix looks at inputs from across the kingdom. Those inputs are then followed, and a directional probability matrix is formed. You following me?¡± ¡°Yes, everyone knows this.¡± Weatherby crossed his arms over his pot belly and raised his chin. Jennings nodded, ¡°Just bear with me. Let¡¯s say for example, the matrix sees that every morning a baker shows up at his shop at 7 and his wife meets her lover at 8. Then it sees that the local department of maintenance announces that they will shut that baker¡¯s street down on a particular day, but someone forgets to file the paperwork to alert the affected locals. The matrix will then produce a prophecy within some percentage of error that the baker will come into conflict with his wife on that particular day.¡± ¡°While I recognize the cute way you explained the fate matrix, I fail to see your point,¡± Weatherby replied. ¡°Alright, now imagine the matrix notices that a boy who was meant to be dead just appeared resoundingly ¡®not dead¡¯, and starts going around interacting with people. What do you think the directional probability matrix will do with that?¡± Jennings finished with a smile. Weatherby¡¯s arms dropped to his sides and his head whipped to the screen to see Nero banging on the door to Nicks lab. ¡°Oh¡­. Oh dear.¡± he said quietly. Jennings nodded, his smile growing ever wider. ¡°Oh dear is right. The matrix of fate just needs to collect more data and it will start spewing out new probabilities. In no way, shape, or form, is the boy a threat. Now shut up and watch, I¡¯ve been waiting to see this since yesterday, and he conjured chairs for the both of them. Weatherby just sat down quietly and intended to just watch and see what the mages were so interested in. ----- As Nick started getting all his machines up and running, I went over the information he just told me. Was the world as large as it seemed? Maybe. Without globes of both worlds sitting next to each other, how would I know? I needed to stop comparing things to Earth. This was a new world, with new rules. I shrugged off my preconceptions, and inwardly promised myself that I was going to stop being shocked all the time. There was no feeling so unpleasant to me than being wrong or misinformed; and I¡¯ve been feeling like that since I got here. I stood up to walk over to the testing area. ¡®I need to be better. I am better. So the world is fucking huge? That¡¯s just more to see. So I¡¯m living in a dragon¡¯s backyard; one who does whatever the hell it wants? Cool, I chose this world because dragons rule. The world is probably filled with shit I¡¯ve never heard of? My previous world was tiny in comparison and I didn¡¯t know shit while I was there. My stupidity didn¡¯t stop me from building a battery out of a potato when I was in the 5th grade science fair. And it¡¯s certainly not going to stop me from learning how to do the dishes with magic. I hate doing stuff, and magic can make ¡®not doing stuff¡¯ a valid lifestyle choice,¡¯ I thought to myself. My internal monologue ran as I walked over to the testing area. I stood where Nick pointed, and he turned away to start messing with a machine that had nobs and crystals and little holograms that lit up. While Nick was occupied, I was finishing my personalized pep-talk. Slowly, the world came into focus and I heard the now familiar ¡®Ding¡¯. Nick immediately stopped what he was doing and turned around. ¡°What just happened? Specifically... tell me what exactly you did just now. In as much detail as you can manage, tell me how you leveled.¡± He demanded in a forcibly calm voice. He was practically vibrating while holding himself as still as possible. I still a felt a little high from my level as I turned my glazed eyes to Nick. ¡°Ah¡­ You pointed for me to stand here. I walked over here. Then I watched you with the cool holograms, then I leveled.¡± I said. Nick raised his hands to his face, and looked like he wanted to scratch out his own eyes. ¡°What were you thinking about? What was going on in your mind?¡± I thought back, trying to relive the past minute or two. ¡°Well, I was going over all that crap about the world that you told me. Then I came to the conclusion that I was an idiot, and it¡¯s best to ignore as much of it as I could, and forget about whatever I couldn¡¯t ignore. Then, you needed me for testing, so I figured I should focus on that.¡± I said, proud of my helpful attitude. ¡®Uh oh. There is that look again. Nicks ¡®you¡¯re an idiot¡¯ face. He looks older, tired. He should get more sleep,¡¯ I thought to myself, as I returned his stare with my most compassionate face, the one I reserved for dogs that are too old to fetch. Turning back to his machine without another word. Nick said, ¡°Just stand there and don¡¯t do anything. And don¡¯t use your star. I know it¡¯s hard to hold onto, but just hold on for a few seconds.¡± He started doing stuff, and fiddling with things, and then there were whirring noises and lights. It was all very impressive if you go for sciencey-hologramy-type things. Support creative writers by reading their stories on Royal Road, not stolen versions. I stood in the middle of the platform, as lights moved around me. I said ¡°I haven¡¯t spent any stars yet, I haven¡¯t gotten to that part of the book yet.¡± Wow, I can feel the essence in the air doing stuff. I have no idea what it¡¯s doing, but it feels like it¡¯s doing something. ¡°What do you mean you haven¡¯t used your stars. Don¡¯t you feel soul-bloated? Like an uncomfortable feeling where something bad will happen if you don¡¯t direct something. Almost like an instinct?¡± Nick turned around and all the lights went out. I blinked as the room returned to focus. ¡°Not really,¡± I said. I closed my eyes and tried to do an internal audit. ¡°I think I feel what you mean. Kinda like holding a ball and being ready to throw it, but not actually throwing it. Like a sense of anticipation. Is that what you¡¯re talking about?¡± I opened my eyes and turned to Nick. He stood there with his hands on his hips. ¡®Maybe that¡¯s just his normal face,¡¯ I thought. ¡°Yes. That¡¯s the feeling I¡¯m talking about. Since your level is so low, and you¡¯ll end up using at least a few stars in each attribute over your life; would you mind using your stars in your mind, body, and soul stat one at a time while I record them?¡± He said while forcing a smile. ¡°Is there anything I should know about using stars that you haven¡¯t told me. Because I can tell by the look on your face that you¡¯re up to something. I get that look on my face right before I convince someone to go for the extended warranty,¡± I said while squinting my eyes to see through his bullshit. Nick took a second to formulate a reply. ¡°Fine. It¡¯s very rude to offer input on how someone uses their stars. A path is very personal, and I¡¯d get a long talking to by a Wayfinder if they heard about me trying to direct anyone¡¯s path. That said, it would be very beneficial for my analysis of your identity to have me record it.¡± Nick grumbled. ¡°Well, I won¡¯t tell if you don¡¯t. Will you promise to hide anything freaky that you find, at least until you talk to me about it?¡± I hedged to see if I can get something out of my concession. Nick scoffed, ¡°I told you, paths are personal. I¡¯m legally obligated to go over your analysis with you in private. Everything we record here isn¡¯t publicly available. Aside from your soul signature that is, but that is merely used to identify you.¡± ¡°In that case. I¡¯ll agree to use my 3 stars on whatever you want, but I need you to do something for me.¡± I said. Nick went to the control panel and brought up a bunch of screens. He turned his head over his shoulder and asked, ¡°What?¡± ¡°You have to muss up your hair, raise your fists in the air, and exclaim in a shout that ¡®THIS IS FOR SCIENCE¡¯!¡± I said to him while my eyes conveyed how serious I was. Giving me a look of confusion, he shrugged and then proceeded to rub his hands over his head to muss up his hair. He then raised his fists in the air. And then Nick spoke the immortal words of every crazy-assed mad scientist in history. ¡°This IS for science!¡± He said in a strong voice, while not at all shouting or looking crazy. I sighed. ¡°Never mind, you ruined it. Let¡¯s just get this over with. Tell me how to do this, and when.¡± Nick lowered his hands. He just shook his head, and went back to his machine. ¡°OK¡­ Open up your identity, and when I say so, focus on your body stat and think about filling it up, as if it were a cup. Go slowly.¡± I opened up my identity:
Name Nero Walker Level 4
Race Human Growth 1%
Tier 1 Condition 100%
Age 14 Center 100%
Body 0 Mind 0
Soul 0 Confluence 10
Stars 3 Pillars 0/0
¡°I¡¯m ready,¡± I told Nick, as the machine¡¯s lights were flying all over the place. ¡°Good. Push 1 star into your body stat now.¡± He was focused completely on a hologram of me. Only it was a multicolored me, and only a foot tall. There were so many lights around me that I could barely see my image. I returned my focus to my Body stat and I felt a small tension. It was that feeling when you were throwing a football, and you watched your buddy turn to you to catch it. He was waiting for the throw as he ran. You smoothly released it, and you just KNEW that it was going to hit him in stride. The perfect throw. Body ¨C Your physical manifestation on this plane of existence. This is YOU given form. The alert came into mind as a sense of completion filled my body. ¡®If I knew it felt like this, I would have spent all my stars in the shower last night,¡¯ I thought to myself as the essence around me shook. ¡°Holy Shit Nick.¡± I said. ¡°Does it always feel like that? That was amazing.¡± ¡°Focus Nero! Now push a star into your Mind stat.¡± I heard Nick say. Mind ¨C Both your tether and controller between this plane of existence and all the others. The Mind is subject to the body and soul, but guides them both. This is YOU. I didn¡¯t say anything. I didn¡¯t feel anything. I just reveled in the moment. I felt sturdy. I felt complete. I felt like I had just handed in a perfect paper to a teacher, or won an argument with a girlfriend. That moment when everything is right, and you are in control. ¡°Now the soul Nero.¡± Nick said calmly. Soul ¨C The core of who you are. The YOU that is eternal. I felt like I was back in the void. Devoid of emotion, yet recognizing they exist. I was a flame of creation, a master of my own destiny. I was immortal. All of a sudden, the feeling faded, and I was back in the lab. And now I was feeling sick. Dropping to my knees, I started throwing up. ¡®Gross¡­ coffee and donuts.¡¯ I groused to myself. I wiped my mouth and stood up unsteady legs, while trying to avoid my pile of breakfast. ¡°What the hell was that Nick?¡± I asked. Nick didn¡¯t even bother turning around. He was just fiddling with knobs and pressing buttons. ¡°Oh, the nausea? Yeah, that¡¯ll happen when you raise multiple stats without resting. I¡¯m surprised you actually made it through all three. I¡¯ve only ever heard about someone holding a star for long enough to be able to use two of them at once. The study ran for over 2 years. Franklin Archer conducted it. It was a big deal. Poor guy that had volunteered for the study had to be in bed for a couple days afterward. I can now confirm that it¡¯s the strain on your confluence that causes it. Interestingly, you have a high tolerance. Your confluence vs level must be amazing by the way. It¡¯s like your body, mind, and soul are really welded together in there.¡± Nick kept talking while he was working. ¡°Hey Nick.¡± I said. ¡°Yeah?¡± he replied. ¡°You¡¯re an asshole.¡± I said. ¡°Oh calm down. It worked out fine.¡± ¡°Anything that I¡¯d like to keep secret in there?¡± He hummed in thought. ¡°Not really. You¡¯re not abnormally strong, or smart, and your soul is normal enough. It is a little big though. Not really uncommon in any way. The only odd thing is your confluence. But that can be attributed to your unusual awakening.¡± I nodded, left the podium and walked toward the sink to wash my mouth out with water. ¡°Hey Nick?¡± I rinsed and spit. ¡°Yeah?¡± he said. ¡°I¡¯m telling Vera about the stars,¡± I said as I grabbed a bagel and fresh coffee. Chapter 12 - Would you notice if you got smarter? Lord Heleema Cosgrave was a stern woman. She had persevered through many trials to ascend to the head of her house, and to be worthy of the title of City Lord. One thing she was not prepared for, was the possibility of an Islangur incursion. If she had some notice, she would have been able to come up with a plan. However, she couldn¡¯t make a plan without information. Sitting in her office, she tapped her desk and looked out the window. ¡®How did they get this far North without anyone noticing. It¡¯s inconceivable for them to have avoided all contact to arrive here by foot. They must have been teleported. How many could there be?¡¯ She wondered. With a thought, she summoned her aide. Moments later, Ms. Chandler entered the office and waited for the Lord to address her. ¡°Has any more information been found concerning the Islangur raid?¡± Lord Cosgrave asked in a grave tone. ¡°No m¡¯lord. The mages still have no clue how they managed to hide themselves for so long, but they have located them now. The army is preparing to deal with them. Scouting reports are in, and the men are being assembled.¡± Ms. Chandler replied. ¡°Someone in Dorchester must be helping them. We may have to enact the ¡®Silent Vigil¡¯ protocol. This may be a prelude to something more. Hold off on it for now, but be ready.¡± Lord Cosgrave said with a hint of worry in her voice. ¡°Is there anything else we should be paying attention to, perhaps this is a distraction of some kind?¡± ¡°Nothing m¡¯lord¡­ Well there is one thing. The survivor from the merchant raid is of possible interest. The report the Captain on site said that the boy was odd. He took him to the Gate 7 intake Center to be evaluated. Other than that, The city is running as expected.¡± said Ms. Chandler. ¡°I want to see that intake report as soon as it¡¯s filed. That will be all for now.¡± Lord Cosgrave said, then turned her eyes back to the window. As her aid left, Heleema tried to see the angles. ¡®The game doesn¡¯t stop even if you don¡¯t know the rules,¡¯ she thought to herself as her brow furrowed in thought. ----- After threatening to tell his wife about the testing I just went through, I enjoyed watching Nick panic. I gargled some coffee, took a bite of my bagel, and tried to remove the lingering taste of my breakfast¡¯s second pass through my mouth. Meanwhile, Nick quickly closed all the holograms on his machine and walked over with a ¡®hey buddy¡¯ expression on his face. ¡°Come on Nero, it wasn¡¯t that bad. I¡¯ll even clean up the mess,¡± he said. With a wave of his hand, what looked like a ball of plasma appeared 10 feet away on the platform. There wasn¡¯t even any warning. No smell, or heat. It looked like a finger of fire just ¡®wiped¡¯ the mess away, and now the platform was pristine. ¡®Holy Hannah,¡¯ I thought, as I looked at Nick with wide eyes. He looked back at me, trying to see if that was enough to get him off the hook. Reaching up and mussing up his hair, he threw his fists in the air and screamed, ¡°IT WAS FOR SCIENCE!¡± ¡®Well, damn. It appears that I¡¯ve been check-mated,¡¯ I thought. ¡°Fine, it stays between us. BUT! You have to get me a link, and all the information on how to start my magic career. And the basics on pillars. Agreed?¡± I asked. ¡°No problem on the link and magic information. But the pillar primers and information are all in the public library and easily accessible through the dorms, you don¡¯t need me for that. The magic school is complicated. But basic spells are no problem,¡± he replied. ¡°No, that¡¯s not good enough. I want to be a tower building, army destroying, magic behemoth. I want to be able to wave my hand and rewrite reality. That¡¯s a thing here, right?¡± I asked. He rubbed his chin. ¡°I haven¡¯t really heard it described like that. But in the capital there should be mages like that. I knew a guy that leveled past 75, he was like 350 years old or something. He mastered elemental ice pretty deep, even had an ice pillar to really study it. That guy was a monster. I wonder what he¡¯s up to¡­. Anyway, if you study magic long enough, and manage to live that long, you could be all that. It¡¯s not easy though.¡± He said with a warning tone. ¡°Nothing worth doing is.¡± I replied. He widened his eyes. ¡°That¡¯s great! Let me write that down.¡± I laughed and enjoyed my bagel. It¡¯s almost time for lunch. ¡®Man, that sense-of-time thing really sneaks up on you,¡¯ I thought to myself. ¡°Hey Nick, what time do I have to meet with Mrs. Salvatore this afternoon?¡± Nick poked his head from behind a machine. ¡°Why do you always call her Mrs. Salvatore and you just call me Nick?¡± He asked. ¡°Because while she demands a person¡¯s respect, you demand a person¡¯s scrutiny.¡± I said without shame. Nick went back to what he was doing and I heard him mutter, ¡°wretched little shit.¡± He finally came back and tossed me a small box. ¡°Here¡¯s a top-of-the-line link. The manual is in there, and you just have to attune it to your psychic signature. They¡¯re really easy to use.¡± With a wave of his hand, the dishes in the sink started cleaning themselves. He then took my coffee cup, and poured what was left into a paper cup and handed me that. ¡°And your meeting with Vera is at 3pm. She kept hounding me to remember to turn in my report before then. Which by the way will say what we already knew. You are a new soul that happened upon a body that was unoccupied and took it as your own. You didn¡¯t kill anyone, and are not an undead. You pose no danger to anyone at all.¡± He finished. Unauthorized use of content: if you find this story on Amazon, report the violation. ¡°Hey! I could pose a danger. I¡¯m dangerous.¡± I stubbornly declared. ¡°Kid, you don¡¯t know any magic. You don¡¯t have a single combat skill high enough to register a skill resonance. Hell, the ONLY skill you have high enough to register a skill resonance is something called ¡®charades¡¯. The word seems like some kind of children¡¯s game but I don¡¯t understand how it¡¯s played. Nevertheless, I made a note of it. But even if that were dangerous, its level is still pretty low.¡± Nick said while dismissing my combat prowess with his damnable logic. ¡°Yeah, well¡­. I just got here. Give me a week or two.¡± I said full of false bravado. He just chuckled. ¡°Right. Take your coffee, let¡¯s head out and get some lunch. I have a report to write, and you have¡­ whatever it is that you have.¡± He said as he started turning off his machines with his link. ¡°That buff chick at the front desk of the dorms told me to sign up for combat classes or I couldn¡¯t stay there. So that¡¯s my afternoon plan. Then studying when I¡¯m not having the meeting with Mrs. Salvatore.¡± I detailed my itinerary as we left the lab. He thought for a moment. ¡°You mean Cathleen? Black lady that looks like she could carve a turkey with her stare? Yeah, better do what she says. I¡¯m a dab hand as a combat caster, but that woman scares me. I once saw her pound, and I mean POUND, an army Sergeant who said that living here in the South was just as harsh as living in the North. She challenged him to a duel on the spot. Moron just said ¡®sure¡¯ and followed her to the arena and his own destruction. Nobody could believe he was dumb enough to say ¡®yes¡¯. Funniest thing I¡¯ve seen in forever.¡± I smiled as we walked to what I assume was some kind of restaurant in the building. We took an elevator to level 2. ¡°She whooped his ass?¡± I asked, hoping for more details. ¡°The whole thing only lasted about 5 minutes. Most of that was her criticizing his footwork. Then BAM! Spin kick to open his shield while she followed with spear in a reverse grip. The spear went through his sword arm. Needless to say, he let go of his sword. Before the blade even hit the ground, she finished her spin, planted her feet and rolled his skewered arm over his shoulder. His entire body flipped and he landed flat on his back. On way through the air, Cathleen pulled out the spear and planted the butt into the dirt. She stood there like a war goddess passing judgment before he even finished planting himself in the floor. All of us watching were speechless. You forget how amazing people are when you see them everyday.¡± He said. ¡°Sounds like a one move victory. That¡¯s pretty hardcore.¡± I said. ¡°Oh, that wasn¡¯t the end of the fight. The guy stood up on shaky legs, with a bloody and torn right arm, missing his shield, and he tried to put up his fists. To be honest, I think it was reflex and not some supreme act of will. You could see in his psychic field that everything was dulled. Cathleen smiled and slammed the butt of her spear into the ground to keep it standing. She banged her fists together and said, ¡®Good¡¯. That was it, She charged him like a plontus heading for the last bundle of hay.¡± Nick was gesturing wildly while we walked down a hall. ¡°Hold up, what¡¯s a plontus exactly?¡± I asked. ¡°Huh? Oh, it¡¯s a species of cow that was crossbred with a monsterized bull held in captivity. It makes them larger, meaner, and always hungry. You know what a cow is?¡± he wondered. ¡°Yeah, but we¡¯ll get back to the story. But remind me to ask you about monsterizing or whatever. And for the story you should go with ¡®She charged him like a fat kid heading for the last piece of cake¡¯, it¡¯s funnier. But go on. What happened next?¡± I asked. ¡°HA! Fat kid heading for the last piece of cake¡­ that¡¯s good. Really rude, but funny. Anyway, what happened next was the ass-whooping of the decade. She shoulder charged the guy in the stomach. You saw her, she¡¯s rather short right? Well he was a big guy, probably was a full unit taller than her. And she folded him in half like a sheet of parchment. When the back of his head hit the mat¡­¡± He looked at me with his serious face. ¡°EVERYONE flinched. Then she hopped up onto his chest and got her legs under his hips to hold him in place. Then she started wailing on him. Tight straight punches and hooks. He tried getting his hands up, but it was futile. In no time flat, the mat turned red and match ended. The guy was out cold. If it weren¡¯t for his soul signature, I would have sworn she killed him. Cool as a cucumber, she stood up and wiped her bloody fists on her pants. She walked over to her spear pulled it out and shouted ¡®Medic!¡¯. Then walked off like she just finished turning in an expense report. It was awesome.¡± He finished. I laughed. Soon we were walking into a fancy restaurant with a polished wood motif, white table cloths, and sported a hostess station and everything. We got a table with no wait. ¡®Must be nice to be a guy in charge,¡¯ I thought. In no time at all, we were seated and being handed menus. I leaned forward and said, ¡°Hey Nick, you know I don¡¯t have any money right? And I have no idea what any of these dishes are either.¡± He looked up and waved like it didn¡¯t matter. ¡°No problem. Lunch is on me. I¡¯ll just order us something simple. You¡¯ll love it.¡± I looked around at the fancy d¨¦cor, and the nice silverware. Something seemed off, I just didn¡¯t know what. When the waiter came by, Nick ordered for the both of us. He also ordered a bottle of nice wine. He made small talk about the link and the opportunities for growth here at the Center while I was staying at the dorms. He even offered to get me into remedial classes through the link so I could remote study and catch up to my age group. That sense of something wrong kept growing. Maybe not ¡®wrong¡¯, but something is definitely not right. As the waiter poured my wine and delivered our food, it hit me like a bolt of lightning. ¡®I¡¯m on a date?!?¡¯ I realized. My eyes snapped up to Nick. I was just about to accuse him of shenanigans, when the memory of my assumptions about the link being way off base popped into my head. Aware that I might be jumping to conclusions, I took a minute to think things through, ¡®OK¡­ take a breath¡­ you can figure this out. Vera is his wife, and she is smoking hot. Maybe they¡¯re swingers? I can¡¯t see Vera swinging. Hell, I don¡¯t know how she puts up with Nick. He¡¯s such a cool guy. Wait. Was he this cool yesterday? No. He wasn¡¯t this laid back. He wasn¡¯t Mrs. Salvatore rigid, but he was very focused. I don¡¯t get any sexual vibes, it¡¯s more like he wants to be friends.¡¯ Maybe it¡¯s because I was never that successful in my life back on Earth, but I¡¯d never been wined and dined. This was a whole new experience for me. I didn¡¯t understand it. Yet, it was the only conclusion that I could come to. As I focused on my food, and the lull in conversation, my mind was filling up with all kinds of observations that I normally wouldn¡¯t think about. Although this guy looks like he is barely 40, Mrs. Salvatore said they¡¯d been married almost 50 years. That is a long ass time. He¡¯s also the head of a division, so he¡¯s successful. He¡¯s smart, political, and old. He shouldn¡¯t be acting like this. I don¡¯t think he¡¯s being really ¡®fake¡¯, I think he¡¯s just playing up the friendship angle. ¡®He¡¯s mirroring me!¡¯ I realized. This is the thing I saw on TV about how to act when you want to get into business with people. You take them out to a nice restaurant and be their ideal friend. I couldn¡¯t decide if I was emotionally hurt or not. I mean, to be honest, I had just met the guy really. He seemed nice, I liked his wife. They¡¯re both professional. His attitude subtly changed after he saw my results. No, it was when I told him that I had 3 stars saved up. It was after that when we started bonding. ¡®The study he mentioned! He said it was a big deal, and took two years. My data is private, he can¡¯t use it without authorization. HA HA¡­ I got you now. He really is just a big science nerd. He is trying to get my permission to write a paper or something on my identity,¡¯ I deduced. I finished my meal while I double checked my conclusions. The mental math seemed to check out. ¡®Time to check my hypothesis, better yet, I should wait to speak with his wife. She was ALL about a person¡¯s path and personal journey. This afternoon might be interesting,¡¯ I thought while pretending to focus on my meal. As I patted my belly, I looked up to a smiling Nick. ¡°Thanks Nick, this was nice. I better head out though. I have that meeting with Mrs. Salvatore at 3pm, and you have a report to write. I¡¯m sure we¡¯ll see each other soon,¡± I said. Nick seemed to hesitate, then said, ¡°Hey Nero, would you mind if I used some of your data for a paper. Since I¡¯m writing that report for the intake committee, I could just make a second one for the Center¡¯s Research department. I won¡¯t use your name, and our deal still stands about us not talking about the stars thing and me getting you some books on magic.¡± ¡°Well Nick, I can tell this means a lot to you. Let me think about it, okay?¡± I said. Since they don¡¯t shake hands here, I stood up and smiled. I gave a small bow, and walked off. ¡°See you around Nick, it¡¯s been a hoot,¡± I said. ¡®There are very few things in life as sweet as having a legitimate reason to leave someone else with the bill,¡¯ I thought to myself. Chapter 13 - Reunited with his one true friend ¡®That kid is a monster,¡¯ Nick thought to himself, as he mentally paid the bill for the meal. His face was pensive as he considered the past few hours. With a polite smile to the waiter, he got up and returned to his lab. From the moment young Nero banged on the door like a savage, the boy¡¯s psychic field was in chaotic motion. Nick had never seen someone who was observably mentally stable, and yet so extremely NOT at peace. It was like Nero¡¯s thoughts were bouncing around erratically. ¡®How does the kid stand it?¡¯ Nick wondered. Human beings seek a state of unity; it is an irrefutable truth. Nick could quote hundreds of studies that proved, without a doubt, that in the absence of stressors; human beings become introspective and seek to balance their mind, body, and soul. But, this kid Nero treats the entire world as a though it is a puzzle box he has to figure out. Being confused is not unexpected given his situation. But people look for more information, they don¡¯t try to form conclusions without any input. Is that his secret? Nick walked through the halls calmly, with his hands resting behind his back and his chin up. People nodded in respect to him as they passed by. He offered a nod in return. The subtle adulation of the associates was something that he had grown used to. ¡®Nero doesn¡¯t seem to care that I¡¯m the youngest research head of any gate in Dorchester¡¯s history,¡¯ he noted. Maybe Nero didn¡¯t know the details, but he must have noticed the how people treat Nick. After all, he is incredibly observant. With the observable data at his disposal, Nero should be more respectful, not to mention, wanting to mirror Nick¡¯s success. When Nick was young, he always did his best to copy the mannerisms and thought patterns of those above him, at least when he was in public. It¡¯s how he got to where he is. ¡®The boy acts like a combination of a sage and toddler,¡¯ he thought to himself. And how the hell did Nero come up with all those truisms? The words hold such meaning, such heavy, profound insights. The sector he came from must be very peaceful and united. The sheer venom he displayed when he thought the people of Dorchester were being mistreated by those in power was shocking to say the least. Perhaps the sovereign who controls the sector has figured out a way to eliminate suffering and conflict in his domain. Nick arrived at his personal lab and sat down. Waving his hand, his station lit up, and a bottle of whiskey and a glass flew over to the desk. He rubbed his chin as his thoughts separated into two distinct streams. While he got the room in order, he analyzed the data he collected from Nero, and brought up the Intake Center¡¯s Thought-hub. Nick reaffirmed his belief that Nero must stay at the Center. The boy needed to be observed during his growth. Nothing Nick has done up to this point is as important as discovering how Nero sees the world and more importantly, how he sees himself. With that in mind, he pinged Vera and awaited a reply. He felt the connection open, and heard, ¡°Is there a problem with Mr. Walker¡¯s testing? I have a call scheduled in 10 minutes with Mr. Tipsman¡¯s family, and if there is anything I need to know, now is the time.¡± ¡°No problems of any kind. You can tell them that the man inhabiting the body now is most definitely NOT Mr. Tipsman. Please express my condolences and let them know that there is no soul echo, or any remnant of the previous occupant. Their son¡¯s soul passed without issue, and is now moving onward toward his next incarnation,¡± Nick replied easily. ¡°That¡¯s great news. I¡¯m sure that will put their minds at ease. Is there anything to note about his testing that needs to be passed on?¡± She asked. Nick could feel that she was barely paying attention to the conversation. ¡°Well, there are a few things. However, there is nothing that violates the public health statutes. Everything of note is path related and protected by protocol,¡± Nick said, while picking his words carefully. ¡°Nicholas Marcus Salvatore. I¡¯ve known you too long to miss that mind fluctuation. What can you tell me without violating your oath? Choose your words carefully or I¡¯ll send Jesse to audit your combat capability again,¡± She said, as Nick felt her full attention drop on his mind like a weight. Nick hung his head. ¡®Always with the threats,¡¯ he thought to himself. Although he was very careful to NOT project that thought over the link. ¡°There was nothing wrong with his results. In fact, his data was remarkable. I won¡¯t talk about his path. But, if I could get him to agree, I¡¯d love to be able to use his testing data to write a paper or two.¡± He could feel Vera¡¯s scrutiny. ¡°I¡¯m not going to use his data without consent. He¡¯s just interesting. You saw how fast he leveled. And anyone with a strong mind can feel how unusual his psyche is. All of that is public domain, and not a breach of confidentiality.¡± He could feel his mind getting agitated, and took a calming breath. Shielding his thought, he said to himself, ¡®No good ever comes from arguing with Vera. Just breathe, calm your mind.¡¯ The silence hung over the connection, like a piano about to fall. In a cold voice Vera said, ¡°Nick, Nero¡¯s path is his. The law is absolute. If you interfere in any way, I cannot and will not help you. I let you do his intake testing because I thought you¡¯d find it interesting, NOT so you could acquire a test subject. You wouldn¡¯t have heard of him if I hadn¡¯t brought him to your lab. We both know you have a weakness for interesting phenomena, and this is a trial that you will have to face. How you manage the next few days may very well become integral to your own path. Now, is there anything you need from me, or are you ready to submit your findings to the Intake board?¡± Nick sighed and replied, ¡°I hear you and acknowledge the warning. The report stating that nothing dangerous was found will be on the hub within an hour. As for the future, I will be upfront with Nero, and hopefully be able to convince him to allow me to use his data. I will not blackmail or otherwise lie to get what I want. ¡®My path is in my control, and my decisions reveal who I am.¡¯¡± Vera chuckled. ¡°I always liked Henry Spencer. He was a wise man. In regards to young Mr. Walker, you have time. He¡¯s still young, and I¡¯m sure by helping him, he¡¯ll help you. That is how two paths can go in the same direction. ¡®When you try to force a path, you find obstacles everywhere¡¯.¡± ¡°Thank you darling, you are a credit to the title of Wayfinder. I¡¯ll see you at dinner,¡± Nick said with a smile. If you come across this story on Amazon, it''s taken without permission from the author. Report it. ¡°See you then, my lovable idiot.¡± She replied and closed the connection. Leaning back in his seat, Nick looked up at the ceiling. ¡®What am I doing? This is not who I am. I am a scientist. I follow where the data leads. Influencing the data will only produce flawed results. I need to approach the situation rationally, like I always have in the past. If important findings come, that will be a result of work, not manipulation,¡¯ he reaffirmed his path in his mind. Collapsing his disparate thought streams, he returned to one mind and focused the whole of it on firming his resolve to be the man he believes he can be. Nick heard a soft ¡®Ding¡¯, and the room started to shake as eddies of essence swirled around him. Nick¡¯s mind went blank in euphoria. He hadn¡¯t leveled in years, and he had forgotten the feeling. As everything calmed down, Nick placed his hands on the desk and panted. Out loud, and with an unexpected annoyance rising from nowhere, he said ¡°I don¡¯t know how. But this somehow... someway... has to do with that little shit.¡± He could almost hear Nero laughing from wherever he was. -------- Unaware, and uncaring of how his presence has affected those around him, Nero walked up to the board that listed all the classes offered at the Center with a smile on his face. There were a few people clustered near the board, looking at what at first looked like large sheets of paper, but upon closer inspection the text seemed to change. Confused, Nero looked around and saw that everyone has a link activated on their temple. With a grunt of annoyance, he stomped off to his room to figure out his link. As he walked through the halls to the elevator, he pulled out the loose sheets of paper on which he had written down his itinerary for the day. ¡°The first fucking thing on my list is dealing with the stupid link,¡± he mumbled to himself. Eventually finding himself in his room, he pulled out the box with the link that Nick gave him. It was a small, thin crystal with one gray and dull side. It was about the size of a thumb digit and maybe twice the width of a credit card. It seemed very sturdy, didn¡¯t bend, and when he tapped his desk with it; it made a strong solid sound. ¡®Maybe they are made by this world¡¯s NOKIA.¡¯ he thought in amusement. Seeing the box had a little 4in x 5in note card in it, he pulled it out to read the instructions: ¡°For first activation of a Link, place it on either temple and open a connection. If the link does not accept a connection, it may already be linked to someone else, and should be returned to your local distributor. Thank you for choosing Johnson Links, and may your path be wide and clear.¡± ¡®Seriously?¡¯ he thought. Well, Nick did say that they were easy to use. Nero placed the link, gray side down, on his temple, and felt it stick. When he felt the suction, he tested removal. Finding no issues, he then put it back on and shook his head around. ¡®That sucker is really on there. Would be nice technology for sunglasses,¡¯ he noted. Nero then stood up and walked into the bathroom to look at himself in the mirror. It was easy to see on his head, but it didn¡¯t draw the eye. Nero examined himself from different angles, trying to remember who usually wore one and who didn¡¯t. Shrugging, he returned to his desk and looked at the room station. He could tell it was the station by the fact that across the top, it said ¡°STATION¡±. It was about 2 ft tall and roughly rectangle shaped. The casing was a dull, unobtrusive gray, and didn¡¯t stand out in any way. He looked for a connection to the wall, or for any cabling, there wasn¡¯t any. It was just a small box that was bolted to the desk corner. ¡®I doubt they worry about people stealing it. Probably bolted so no one knocks it over. Everyone I¡¯ve met is uncomfortably law-abiding,¡¯ he said to himself, as he poked the station. Satisfied that he had done his preparations, Nero sat down and closed his eyes. Mentally reaching out to the link, he felt a connection form easily. There was a sense of options for the room and a welcome message/feeling that quickly faded. From this mental list, he felt that he could manipulate the lights, read how to use the laundry services, check out mental books that could be loaded into his link, see class schedules, and a whole lot of other options for the Center. He opened his eyes and refocused on the world. Nero could still feel the connection, but it was muted. Going back to the mirror, he could see that if he focused on the link, it would light up. He played with it a bit. ¡®No wonder no one mentioned any of the minutiae of living in the dorms. All the information is just sitting here waiting to be read,¡¯ he noted. Checking the time mentally, he wanted to see how long he had before his meeting with Mrs. Salvatore. He was connected to the station while that thought came on, and all of the sudden a section he hadn¡¯t noticed activated. There was a scheduled meeting for 3pm at Mrs. Salvatore¡¯s office in the Intake Hall, Gate 7. The ping was just sitting there, waiting for his acknowledgment. He thought, ¡°OK¡±, and it went away. ¡®Huh¡­ this is cool as hell,¡¯ he thought to himself with a smile. It was an odd feeling to be connected to the link. He could see why Nick described it as ¡®non-invasive¡¯. At no point did he feel like his mind was being violated. The link just felt like it was next to him at all times. As long as he stayed within arms reach, he could feel the link. He couldn¡¯t initiate a connection without it being on his head, but he could still feel that it was there. Every time they connected, he had to initiate it. It really WAS like a mental conversation. For the next few hours, Nero made a detailed study of everything on the Link. To be honest, he was just messing around. Although, from his perspective, it was very comprehensive. He learned the details of what it meant to live in the dorms, and why you could only sign up for classes at the Center¡¯s Rest hub. All in all, it was very informative and served to give Nero the first feeling of being grounded since he got to this world. He didn¡¯t realize how much he missed his phone. Eventually the time came for him to leave for his meeting. Proudly checking off the first thing on his itinerary, he left his room and headed toward the lobby. About 10 ft from the room, he felt his link lose connection with his room station. He felt around for access points as he continued on, and saw that most of them were closed. Closed stations felt like someone with their back turned, hands on their ears, saying ¡°la-la-la¡± and ignoring him. Nero could tell that there was a connection to the city, but it was weak and the city wasn¡¯t paying attention to him at all. As he walked through the lobby, he felt the connection with the classes board, now correctly named ¡°Center¡¯s Rest hub Associate Classes Terminal¡±. ¡®I¡¯m just gonna call it the classes hub. Maybe I should introduce acronyms to these savages,¡¯ he thought as he walked past the board. When he looked at one of the pieces of paper on the board, he felt that someone was already using it. Abruptly stopping mid-stride, he paid closer attention and moved closer. It seems that each 11in x 17in piece of paper was like a little screen that only one person could interact with at a time. When he found one he could connect with, options came up in his head that he could see mirrored on the page-screen thing, although the screen displayed more detailed information. He used the link to look up ¡®Basic Combat 1¡¯ and saw a detailed schedule of the class with availability and locations on the screen. It was very intuitive, and apparently based on a 10 day week. Either way, he didn¡¯t have time for this now, and closed out his connection. Eventually he made his way to the Intake hall, where he was greeted by an employee who politely gave him directions to Mrs. Salvatore¡¯s office. Without any trouble, he found it and was about to knock on the door when a weird feeling of being able to ping the door came from his link. As he stood there with his fist almost at the door, he looked around to see if anyone saw his moment of stupidity. ¡®I¡¯m clear,¡¯ he thought with a sigh of relief. After pinging the door, he felt a feeling of welcome and assurance that it was OK to go in. Chapter 14 - Starting from nothing with nothing ¡°Mrs. Salvatore, I have to say, these links are great. Why didn¡¯t I get one when I showed up? Did the guy whose body this was not have one? Isn¡¯t that weird? Can these things be hacked? There is so much information on it. How are you not on it all day?¡± Nero rapid fired questions as he looked around the room. It was neat and tidy, just how he imagined it would be. There was a large desk with a couple of comfy chairs and bookshelves along the wall. Throughout the room were some tasteful paintings and plants. All of the fancy wood furniture seemed to shine as the Big windows looking out onto the courtyard provided a warm light. Vera Salvatore just sat there listening to the verbal barrage while being reminded of the annoyance that was Mr. Walker. ¡°Mr. Walker, have a seat,¡± she said, as she pointed to a chair opposite her desk. Nero hopped into the chair and waited for her to say something. He saw her eyes furrow as if his presence was annoying her. ¡°Mr. Walker, is your link active? Why are you trying to have a conversation with a connection open? Are you in a link right now?¡± She said while staring at the active link on Nero¡¯s temple. ¡°Huh? No, I¡¯m just keeping the connection open because it¡¯s interesting to see what¡¯s available. Is that weird?¡± He asked. She put her head in her hands and said, ¡°Close the link and open your identity. You¡¯ll see why no one uses the link continuously.¡± Nero did as he was told and noticed the difference to how it normally looks:
Name Nero Walker Level 4
Race Human Growth 24%
Tier 1 Condition 100%
Age 14 Center 36%
Body 1 Mind 1
Soul 1 Confluence 10
Stars 0 Pillars 0/0
It seems that interacting with the link costs ¡®Center¡¯. ¡°OK, so I read that the center percentage was how much energy I have available for abilities and skills that can ¡®stress¡¯ me. I didn¡¯t know what ¡®stress¡¯ it talked about, but I¡¯m guessing using the link is stressful?¡± Nero asked. ¡°Yes, the link works with your psychic potential, it takes effort for your mind to perceive that level of world. The higher your mind stat, the longer you should be able to use it. How long have you been holding a connection?¡± She asked. ¡°I don¡¯t know, a couple of hours. Well, more or less since I got back to my dorm from lunch with Nick,¡± he said Vera looked surprised as she asked ¡°You don¡¯t have a headache? No symptoms of stress? Sore joints or a ringing in your ears? How much center do you have in reserve?¡± ¡°Um¡­ like 36% left. Is that bad?¡± Nero was starting to get worried. He took stock of himself. ¡°I think I feel fine. How do I know how bad I messed up?¡± She sighed, and muttered, ¡°So this is what Nick was alluding to.¡± The narrative has been taken without permission. Report any sightings. Looking at Nero like she was explaining how to color within the lines, she said, ¡°You¡¯d know if you were in trouble. Typically symptoms begin around 50%. No one continues to train past 40%. It¡¯s remarkable that you aren¡¯t feeling anything. I¡¯ll keep this in confidence. You don¡¯t have to worry, but I wouldn¡¯t share this information with just anyone. People will hound you for this secret; to figure out how you do it.¡± ¡°OK, that makes sense I guess. I¡¯m not going to get taken to some secret testing facility and get hooked up to machines in a dark room where they analyze my genetic structure under different types of pain or something, am I?¡± Nero asked while checking the distance to the door and windows. Vera¡¯s eyebrows nearly hit her hairline. ¡°No. I was more talking about how people would be bothering you if they found out. What makes you think people are going to abduct you, and place you in that kind of environment?¡± She asked, genuinely curious. ¡°I don¡¯t know. People always want what someone else has, so it wouldn¡¯t surprise me if they did anything to get it,¡± Nero stated what he would consider a fact. He shrugged and followed it up with, ¡°People suck.¡± ¡°Mr. Walker. People don¡¯t ¡®suck¡¯. Envy is a perfectly normal emotion. Managing it is a personal trial everyone has to deal with. More importantly, one¡¯s path cannot be influenced by another. You can learn how to walk your own path by watching someone walk theirs. But when you try to affect something out of your control, you lose control of that which you CAN affect. Do you understand what I¡¯m saying?¡± She asked, concerned about how Nero seemed to see the world. ¡°Um¡­ sure. That¡¯s a totally realistic position to take.¡± Nero said. He couldn¡¯t help but think that the only reason that works is because everyone here is on their own personal self-improvement kick for their entire lives. Vera leaned back in her chair and slumped a little. ¡°Why is it that every time we speak, I end up confused and slightly annoyed?¡± She asked. ¡°It¡¯s my charm. It sneaks up on you,¡± Nero said with an unapologetic smile. ¡°Anyway, what do you wanna talk with me about?¡± ¡°Very well. We can begin,¡± she said as she sat up straight, resumed her headmistress persona, and collected some pieces of paper. ¡°As you know, the body that you are currently in was originally one Mr. Rodney Tipsman. All of the paperwork has been filed and verification that he is now deceased has been logged with his local Center. Next, your soulscape evaluation done by Mr. Salvatore has been filed without any flags. I registered you a new citizen of Oglivarch under the name Mr. Nero Walker, 14 years of age, residing in Dorchester. You have a presence on the Thought-hub, an account with the Center, and legal standing within the city. You have no obligation to the city at the moment, and the Tipsmans request that you do not contact them. They understand the situation and wish you no ill will, but do not want to connect with you at this time. Finally, as a legal adult, newly awakened or not, you have a choice as to what path you take. As you are not an associate of the center, you will have to vacate the dorms by weeks end, that¡¯s 4 days from now on the 16th. Do you have any questions so far?¡± She said while running down a list on her desk and flipping pages over from a stack every couple of sentences. ¡°No, that sums it up quite nicely. What are my options to make money?¡± Nero asked. She seemed surprised at what Nero was focusing on. ¡°Well, someone in your position normally would focus on a training program of some kind. A job typically comes AFTER you have acquired some skill which you can market. I don¡¯t want to presume, but considering your background, I¡¯m not sure what skills you intend to market,¡± she said. Nero took a minute to think about his plan. He said, ¡°Just to be clear, there is no way that I can join some magic school with all expenses paid is there?¡± Vera smiled and replied, ¡°No. Without a strong education it would be very unlikely to get into any of the Center-point academies. Even then, scholarships are reserved for non-nobles who have shown great potential in leadership, sciences, and combat. I¡¯m sure if you had the requisite background, it wouldn¡¯t be an issue. However, as it stands, that isn¡¯t an option for you.¡± Nero nodded, not at all surprised. ¡®Center-point sounds cool though,¡¯ he thought. He then asked, ¡°What would you recommend?¡± She folded her hands and said, ¡°We don¡¯t usually offer recommendations, only options. Your options are severely limited, as I can¡¯t think of any privatized training facilities that would take you. I¡¯d say your only real choices are to join the army, the guard, or the center as a basic worker-associate. Worker-associates pay for their tuition and room and board by working every other day at an assigned job. You¡¯ll probably work in the kitchens, custodial services, or maybe I could see if someone will take you as a receptionist. Any one of those paths are easily available to you, and you can get started today if you want.¡± She finished with a smile. Nero was reminded of his high school guidance counselor who did her best to avoid calling him a lazy idiot while telling him that the community college was a wonderful option. They even offered a work-to-learn program that offered great opportunities. Chuckling and trying to dismiss the mental image, he said ¡°Mrs. Salvatore. No offense, but this is a world of magic and wonder. There is no way in hell that I¡¯m going to be a grunt in the army, a low paid rent-a-cop that starts at the bottom, or a janitor. And I¡¯m sure as hell not going to be flipping burgers in a world with freaking Dragons! I¡¯m going to learn magic. I¡¯m going to learn how to fight. I¡¯m going to fight monsters, and save damsels.¡± Nero stood up and started getting into his rant. ¡°I¡¯m going to win a war. Trick a dragon out of its treasure. See far off lands, and fuck an elf! No! A hottie of every race! I¡¯m going to do it all. I¡¯m going to see it all. And there isn¡¯t a damn thing anybody can do to stop me!¡± He finished with a shout. Standing there, with his hands in the air, he realized that he had gotten carried away. Lowering his arms, he noticed that he was facing a painting of some guy on a mountain watching the sunrise. He turned back to her and paused. She was looking at him like he was nuts. ¡®Was it the swearing? She doesn¡¯t strike me as the type of lady that would put up with that,¡¯ he thought. Vera smoothed the front of her robes, and adjusted the papers on the desk. Coughing slightly, she said, ¡°Well Mr. Walker, No one is going to try to impair your path. However, many of those things seem very unlikely. In the short term, you have to find something to do. I think the army can address¡­ some¡­ of those goals.¡± Nero paced back and forth. He was going to go for it. ¡°Does this link thing act like a phone? I mean, can I call Nick on this thing?¡± he asked Vera. Confused, she said, ¡°A phone? Yes. You just connect then think of reaching out to Nick, it will send him a ping.¡± Nero did as instructed, and felt someone¡¯s attention. Specifically Nick¡¯s attention. He could feel it was him. ¡°Nero my boy. You figured out the link. Nice job. I¡¯m glad you pinged, I wanted to talk to you about something,¡± he heard Nick say in his mind. ¡°Nick¡­ this is cool¡­. Anyway, hold that thought.¡± Nero started chuckling at his unintentional pun. ¡°My personal data is all weird and useful to you right?¡± he asked. ¡°What? Did Vera say something to you? I told her that I was going to talk to you about it. I¡¯m not going to pressure you or anything. It¡¯s just that it was the first time someone recorded the use of 3 stars in succession like that, and the data showed a remarkable full body activation. The essence fluctuations were very interesting. In addition to your wildly disproportionate soul strength, your mind is also an outlier. The big thing of note is that while, typically, a person pulls in around 20% of their soul strength to boost an aspect of their existence, each use of YOUR stars showed significant deviations from the expected essence allocation. I¡¯m sure the paper I write will get a lot of notice. They might even see it in the capital!¡± Nick said while ignoring the question and slipping into his Scientific blather. Nero shook his head in exasperation. ¡°Nick! Shut up for a second,¡± he interrupted. ¡°If my data is useful, I¡¯ll be cool with letting you use it. But my imaginary daddy taught me to never do something I''m good at for free. Since I''m good at having data, I¡¯m calling to bargain!¡± Feeling Nick''s confusion over the link, Nero went over what he just said. ''I should have said something about supply and demand. Crap,'' he thought with a grimace. Chapter 15 - Leveraging a Paycheck is better than earning one. ¡°You want me to pay you?¡± Nick asked Nero over the link, while his psyche radiated confusion. ¡°Well, you already owe me a few things for not doing that thing, remember? So how about this. You can be my sponsor. You give me room and board somewhere, access to books on magic, and all that I need to learn about this place. Oh¡­ Also get me combat lessons. In return, once a week, I¡¯ll stand on a platform and let you pelt me with lights to your heart¡¯s content. What do you say?¡± asked Nero. As Nero was having this conversation in his mind, Vera was sitting in her chair watching one side of the conversation. Nero was speaking his half of the exchange out loud, rather than just thinking it to Nick through the link. Alarmed at what she heard Nero proposing, she pinged Nick herself. ¡°Are you serious?¡± Nick said, then felt Vera¡¯s ping. Realizing the stupidity of ignoring his wife right now, he linked her to his conversation with Nero. Feeling the new addition to the conversation, Nero looked over at Vera. ¡®Wow, she has one hell of a mental presence,¡¯ he thought. As Nero could feel her attention was completely locked on Nick, he felt like a kid hiding in the garage from an angry mother. ¡°Nicholas Marcus Salvatore! You know there are procedures for human testing. You have to submit a proposal to the Center Research ethics board for approval. Then request funding from the research council, which you LEAD! Then assign a team to manage the experiment. You can NOT just hire people as lab rats and do whatever you think is interesting. There. Are. Procedures.¡± She finished with a mental growl, which was mirrored in the room with a huff. Nick flinched, and replied ¡°I didn¡¯t do any experiments, well not really. And I¡¯m not going to hire him as a lab rat. But... him being around could be useful to observe.¡± He sounded reluctantly hopeful. ¡°Obviously, the cost of what he is talking about is ridiculous, and we won¡¯t be doing any of it. But we could maybe hire him as a worker-associate in the labs? He could still go to classes on his days off, and on the days he works here, we can have him do janitorial stuff; cleaning and such.¡± As Nero listened to them go back and forth, he felt it was time to reassert control. Still out loud, he said, ¡°I¡¯m not cleaning anything. I¡¯ll join the labs as a worker-associate to get access to all the learning stuff from the Center. But on the days I¡¯m ¡®working¡¯ at the lab, I¡¯ll be studying to catch up. I¡¯ll help out with stuff, but no crap labor,¡± he said decisively. Nick replied quickly, ¡°That¡¯s fine with me. Mostly you¡¯ll just be in the way, considering you don¡¯t know anything of any real use and I¡¯ll only be putting you back in the Essence Forge when you use a star.¡± Vera mentally shrieked, ¡°You put him in the Essence Forge?!?¡± Nick said quickly, ¡°I didn¡¯t actively run it or anything. I just wanted to take a look at how his soul effected the ambient essence. Then I had the idea that I could record the essence pattern of his star usage like Franklin Archer did over in Batherton. He did that study on soul confluence interaction with stress, you remember? Doesn¡¯t matter¡­ The boy was fine, and I got some interesting data that could shed some light on how environmental essence factors interact with the soul¡¯s confluence on this plane of reality.¡± Nero was enjoying feeling the minds of the two as he listened to their exchange. It was interesting to feel people emotions on a psychic level. He always liked emotionally poking people, and this medium seemed well suited for it. Taking the opportunity, Nero interjected, ¡°That wasn¡¯t how I was supposed to be tested? What was supposed to happen Mrs. Salvatore?¡± A red faced Vera replied, ¡°He was SUPPOSED to use a soul-scope to verify that your soul signature was different than Mr. Tipsman. Then he should have checked to see if there were any signs of undeath by examining your body/mind tether. And lastly he should have measured your psychic field to ensure that your mind isn¡¯t damaged, which would constitute a danger to those around you.¡± ¡°Wow Nick, that ONE machine you put me in could do all that?¡± Nero asked innocently. The author''s narrative has been misappropriated; report any instances of this story on Amazon. ¡°Technically, the Essence Forge would have highlighted any issue with your soul signature, and the body/mind tether, if you tune it correctly. Which I did! As for the psychic profile, my mental acuity is high enough that I just had to look at you and realize your psychic field is fine. Weird, but fine,¡± Nick replied. ¡®Here it comes,¡¯ Nero thought with anticipation. Nero then asked, ¡°Then what was the point of me using stars while I was in the lights?¡± Vera¡¯s mouth dropped open. ¡°Stars! As in multiple Stars! Did you recreate that lunatic¡¯s experiment with him?¡± Her attention turned to Nero, ¡°Didn¡¯t you use your stars when you got them? Why would you hold onto them?¡± ¡°I didn¡¯t know how to use them, so I just held onto them. Nick explained it to me.¡± Nero said while smiling sweetly to Vera. Vera¡¯s attention pivoted to Nick, ¡°What does he mean you explained it? Did you tell him you were running an experiment on him, or what that machine could do to a human that was in it while it was manipulating essence? How many stars did you have him spend?¡± Without pausing, she kept blasting, ¡°Answer me Nick! How did you get him up out of bed, did you cast something on him to hide his pain? Do we need to get him to the Med-Center?¡± Vera¡¯s mind was vibrating like a real-housewives neck massager. Nero raised his hand to his face and hid his chuckle. Nick¡¯s mind was in full retreat, and waving the white flag. ¡°No dear. It¡¯s not like that,¡± Nick pleaded as Vera had him on the ropes. ¡°He wasn¡¯t feeling any discomfort from holding 3 stars, and I just figured that this was a once-in-a-lifetime opportunity for scientific advancement. He didn¡¯t suffer any negative repercussions.¡± Nero helpfully added, ¡°Aside from the nausea and vomiting, you mean. Other than that I was fine.¡± Vera was like a rottweiler on a chew toy. She said, ¡°You and I are going to have a long talk tonight mister. There are limits to my patience, and I¡¯ve been too kind lately; allowing you to do whatever you want in that lab. I know everyone on that research committee that you THINK you run. We¡¯ll be having a comprehensive review of this incident, and I don¡¯t want to hear any complaints, you hear me?¡± Nick said, ¡°Please Vera, calm down. Can¡¯t you see that Nero is messing with you. He¡¯s just trying to rile you up.¡± Nero winced. ¡®That was a mistake. NEVER tell an angry woman to calm down,¡¯ he thought while trying to shrink his mental presence in the link. ¡°Of course I know he¡¯s using the situation to see me get angry. I AM standing right next to him. If you can feel his amusement over the link, how do you think it feels in the same room with him. He¡¯s just a 14 year old boy with a two day old identity. YOU are an 87 year old leader in your field. You help shape policy for a living! Be better Nick. Not informing him what you were doing was abusing your position. I am furious right now.¡± She paused and took a breath, ¡°We will talk more about this later.¡± Her attention then turned to Nero and she said, ¡°Mr. Walker, please close the link with Mr. Salvatore.¡± Nero looked like he got caught with his hand in the cookie jar. He closed the link and returned to his seat. He glanced up with a half smile, shrugged his shoulders with an ¡®eh, what can you do?¡¯ look on his face, and said, ¡°I figured you should know what happened, but I got a free link and he owes me some magic books for agreeing not to say anything about it. This way, you find out and I get free stuff. Sorry, not sorry.¡± Vera broke into a full blown laugh. ¡°You¡¯re two days old and you tricked us into getting you a job where you don¡¯t have to do any work, get the center to feed and clothe you, all while focusing on acquiring magic training. You Mr. Walker, are a very dangerous young man.¡± ¡®See. I told Nick that I was dangerous,¡¯ Nero thought while smiling like a bandit. ¡°In all honesty, Nick was heading for trouble anyway. Every 10 years or so, he starts getting loose with the rules. Even so, he is a brilliant man that pushes the boundaries of what we know more than any other man in Dorchester. Yet, for all his intelligence, he lacks wisdom.¡± Vera said. ¡°Yeah, those two virtues rarely meet,¡± Nero replied. ¡°You don¡¯t seem that angry right now, was that all show?¡± he asked. Vera stood up to pour herself a glass of water. ¡°Not at all. I¡¯m not skilled enough in mental techniques that can mirror emotions. I was, and am angry. Maybe not as much as I led him to believe. He also didn¡¯t do anything illegal, using an Essence Forge to test you like that was stupid, not against the law. It¡¯s the equivalent of using an entire branch of the military to march a basket of produce across the city, rather than just use a messenger. Really, my anger comes from him just being very rude to ask you to use your stars for his research. That, and I¡¯m always a little angry with him. That¡¯s just a side effect of living with someone,¡± she said with a fond smile. As she sat back down, she smoothed her robes and double checked the placement of everything on her desk with her eyes. ¡°Now Mr. Walker, are you on board with joining the center as a work-associate? I¡¯m sure we can hire you as a lab attendant for Nick. He already has two of them, but they mostly work on their own projects and do his paperwork. Occasionally they help him do whatever experiment he is focusing on.¡± ¡°Yes, that¡¯s fine. I get everything I want, and only have to put up with his floating lights. I heard what you said about him having to go in front of an ethics board if he wants to do any testing on a human lab-rat. I¡¯m sure those people will do everything they can to ensure my safety. I¡¯m guessing it would harm their path, or whatever, if they went against their reason for having a job.¡± Nero said. ¡°Very well said, Mr. Walker. I assure you that your rights and path will be protected. I¡¯ll get the paperwork started today, and everything should be ready by tomorrow afternoon. Any time this week, you can fill out the forms through the link, and your file will be updated. In the meantime, feel free to use the facilities in the dorms to the best of your ability. I¡¯d also recommend signing up for a combat class tonight since you are staying on with the Center. Ms. Averett has already contacted me as she noticed during her lunch break that you haven¡¯t scheduled any combat classes.¡± Vera said while shaking her head. She then stood up and held her hand toward the door as if gesturing for him to leave. Nero stood up, and said ¡°Thank you for everything Mrs. Salvatore. I¡¯m sure I¡¯ll keep in touch. Hopefully we can get lunch or something.¡± He then bowed a little, and headed toward the door. Softly closing it behind him, he shook off how weird it was that they don¡¯t shake hands or have any ritual to signify the end of a meeting. People here just kind of agree ¡®oh¡­ we¡¯re done? OK¡¯, then walk off. ¡®Savages, every one of them,¡¯ he thought with amusement. Chapter 16 - Studying doesnt always lead to understanding Lord Cosgrave sat in her office going over the never-ending paperwork. She was looking at reports on essence crystal shipments that were of critical import. None of their local sources produced enough for their needs, as such her city relied too much on trade. Scowling, she cross-referenced the yearly yield numbers. Hearing her door open, she glanced up to see her aide walking in. Setting her papers down, she moved the holograms floating above the desk to clear her eye line. ¡°Yes, Jessica. What is it?¡± She asked. ¡°M¡¯lord, this afternoon the intake report was filed concerning the survivor of the Islangur raid. You wanted to know if anything of importance was included. I¡¯m sorry to say that there wasn¡¯t,¡± said Ms. Chandler. ¡°Any further reports of Islangur activity?¡± Lord Cosgrave asked. Shaking her head, Ms. Chandler replied, ¡°No m¡¯lord. The mages say that there is nothing out there, while Army Command remains skeptical. Could this not be an isolated incident?¡± Pausing in thought, Lord Heleema Cosgrave leaned back in her chair. There was nothing to indicate a larger plan was afoot. It was possible that the raid was just an unfortunate meeting in the woods. ¡°Alright, stand down preparations for ¡®Silent Vigil¡¯ and return our threat status to ¡®All is Well¡¯. Let¡¯s put this behind us and move on. There is nothing to be gained by giving this more attention than it deserves. Let the army continue their investigation if they want, but let¡¯s try not to waste resources.¡± She said definitively, then continued, ¡°Is there anything else?¡± ¡°No m¡¯lord,¡± Ms. Chandler said as she gave a slight bow and left the room to return to her duties. Lord Cosgrave gave a huff of annoyance, and returned to her examination of the regional essence crystal trade. ------ As he walked through the halls, the intake hall, and courtyard, Nero planned his evening. First food, then class scheduling, then hitting the books in his room. He decided to check his identity to see how much center he had. It was pretty low before he decided to call Nick.
Name Nero Walker Level 4
Race Human Growth 71%
Tier 1 Condition 100%
Age 14 Center 11%
Body 1 Mind 1
Soul 1 Confluence 10
Stars 0 Pillars 0/0
¡®Shouldn¡¯t I be on my ass right now?¡¯ he wondered. Nero remembered that Mrs. Salvatore said people normally didn¡¯t drop below 40% without having some serious symptoms. Pausing in a hallway, he leaned his back against the wall, out of the flow of traffic. Closing his eyes, he took stock of himself. ¡®I¡¯m a little hungry. Definitely thirsty. A bathroom might be a good idea. No sore joints or headaches. I guess I do feel a little tingly. It¡¯s like I¡¯ve been up all night and then had to work through the day. This feels exactly like I¡¯m staying awake on nothing but 5-hour energies and my vape. Wait? Did death cure my addiction. Well, that makes sense. I wonder if these crystal-worshipers smoke weed? Eh, I¡¯m sure someone is smoking something somewhere,¡¯ he thought. Nero resumed his walk to the cafeteria. On the way he looked out for a bathroom to hit. Eventually, he was walking into the lobby of the Dorms. As Nero started toward the dining hall, a sense of his impending DOOM came out of nowhere. He stopped and started looking around. His attention was pulled toward the front desk about 30 ft away. Ms. Averett¡¯s steely gaze met his, piercing the room like a spear of divine wrath. The crowd seemed to split open as if no one dared to cross her eyeline. She said nothing, and stood still as a cat waiting for an opportunity to pounce. Nero gulped, then reevaluated his plans for the evening. ¡®I should sign up for classes while I¡¯m here. It¡¯d be silly to go to dinner first. After all, it only makes sense,¡¯ he thought to himself. Without breaking stride, he pivoted to the classes-hub, the sense of Doom evaporated and everyone continued on with their day. Nero looked up the beginning classes for combat, specifically magic combat. The classes all had a basic essence theory class as a prerequisite, along with a note that you need to have been tested in combat casting proficiency before applying. Not dissuaded, he looked up the basic essence theory class. It¡¯s a six week class that meets every other day, that¡¯s five 3-hour classes a week. No prerequisites needed. He signed up for a class that begins in 5 days and meets in the afternoons. Nero applauded himself for beginning his journey in reality bending. He closed his connection to the board and started to turn away. Pausing with a foot in the air, Nero realized that what he just signed up for wasn¡¯t a combat class. He turned back, and reopened his connection. ¡®Too close,¡¯ he thought while he felt his back sweating at the image of Ms. Averett watching him. He quickly found a free class that anyone can join at the basic level; it met in the mornings, and would pair nicely with his future magic classes. That still left a lot of free time. Nero decided that it didn¡¯t matter, most of his studying would be guided by his reading preferences. Anything they can teach him, he believed he could learn from a book. As a bonus, he wouldn¡¯t have to be in class with people. He looked around at all the polite people, waiting their turn without complaint and with untroubled faces. ¡®Yeah¡­ I¡¯m not ready to deal with these people yet,¡¯ he thought to himself. He cut the connection then turned back to the front desk. Ms. Averett¡¯s attention snapped to him. ¡®Damn she has some fine senses,¡¯ he noted to himself. The narrative has been stolen; if detected on Amazon, report the infringement. Nero gave her a thumbs up and a smile, then walked off to the dining hall. As he moved through the crowd, he could feel her eyes following him. Eventually passing through the door, he gave in to a full body shiver. Shaking it off, he put it in a corner of his mind and promptly forgot about it. It was time for this world¡¯s version of steak and potatoes. After dinner, Nero returned to his room. He used the link to dim the lights a little, then cut his connection. ¡®Won¡¯t be using that for a while,¡¯ he thought. He pulled of his link and tossed it on his nightstand, along with his notes for the day and whatever else he acquired during his escapades. Throwing his robes in the hamper, his boots at the door, Nero grabbed a set of pajamas that he learned were in the bottom shelf of his cabinet. This knowledge was thanks to his afternoon fiddling with his link. Taking a shower and getting in his ¡®jammies¡¯, Nero curled up in bed with his book on identity. ¡®All knowledge is useful, even if it is just learning what to ignore,¡¯ he mentally told himself. He then spent the rest of the night going through the book until he eventually finished it. Aside from the sections on skills and relative strength ratings of the numbers, it was pretty chalk full of semi-useful information. He found out that stats points are really just multipliers of inherent potential. Putting it in gaming terms: A body with a zero stat is a normal human body. When a star is used, it injects potential that you have collected and reinforces everything with essence. Healing speed, strength, tensile strength of your skin, organ function, eyesight, even memory is enhanced. Apparently, the brain is part of the body stat. Every use of a star adds about 20% of an increase in performance. The interesting thing is, it stacks. Meaning that at one star it¡¯s x1.2 body performance, 2 stars = x1.44, etc. By the time you have 20 stars in a stat, it¡¯s like the stat actual performs at 38 times the level of a basic human. Even though people vary widely in their basic human potential, that¡¯s some pretty impressive improvement. This performance applies to all of the stats. Where the body becomes a better body, the mind becomes better at what it does. The mind stat is in reference to your sense of self. Willpower, focus, all of what makes you able to decide to do things. Nero decided to think of it as perspective. How strong is his perspective. A strong mind can break illusion magic, fight back against instinctual drives like fear and panic, and best of all, a strong mind can influence and interact with the world. The more powerful the mind, the more powerful the psyche. So when Nick was tossing dishes around the lab, it wasn¡¯t magic, he was going all telekinetic. ¡®I¡¯ll never have to get up to get a beer, or the remote,¡¯ he thought with a grin. Finally, the soul. The book said that a strong soul gives ¡®strength of identity¡¯. The entire chapter was filled with spiritual nonsense about planes of reality, and the endurance of personality. Nero was sure that all of it was scientifically accurate here, but it didn¡¯t mean that he understood it. They also proved, somehow, that the soul is really eternal. When a person dies, they just lose their mind and body. The ¡®Who they are¡¯ moves onto a new body via some complicated process that occurs ¡®in the higher planes¡¯. There was even a section on how the mind was sent to it¡¯s chosen afterlife, but the soul gets reincarnated. So, in this world you get an afterlife AND reincarnation. Does that mean that a person could meet another incarnation of themselves in the afterlife? Would they know? Since all of this was common knowledge, it stands to reason that death isn¡¯t treated like the sad and depressing thing that it actually is. There were parts of the chapter on the soul¡¯s strength and density, with charts showing relative growth and time curves. ¡®I don¡¯t understand any of these references, or any of this math,¡¯ he thought with a confused frown. In fact, all he really took away from the entire section was that he would be an idiot to ignore it. The most surprising reveal was that most people start with a confluence of 0. The confluence being how tightly the three aspects of a person are bound. It is supposed to be VERY important to keep your confluence at least as high as your highest stat. Otherwise your growth can stop, and then you are screwed. Once a person¡¯s growth stops, they are just waiting to die. When Nero read that, he double checked his identity, then promised himself to always give a big buffer with confluence. He didn¡¯t know why his confluence was so high; and for the moment, he didn¡¯t care. The last thing to note was that there were no benefits to a confluence being more than 5 points higher than a person¡¯s highest stat. There were even references to studies that were done to prove it. Someone had voluntarily raised their confluence alone for 20 levels. There was no discernible improvements to growth. In fact, the subject¡¯s growth seemed to slow in relation to their peers as the study went on. Whether that¡¯s true or not for Nero was unclear, but it was something to consider. Moving on, Nero found the entire skill section was disappointing. It boiled down to how strong a skill was in comparison to other people. Skill numbers went up without limit. There was a reference to a guy who had raised his skill in Baking to over 500. The guy made a great muffin, but when it came down to it, it was still a muffin. There were no super-human abilities that came from leveling skills crazy high. Granted a person with a 500 level skill in longswords would be a freakin¡¯ AMAZING swordsman, but he couldn¡¯t cut a mountain in half with his skill. Nero was heart-broken. One piece of information really stood out. Since skills are part of the world, as someone practices and learns a skill, they are absorbing the ¡®essence echo¡¯ of all those people who used the skill before them. Therefore, even if the skill itself is average, at least leveling a skill is easier here than back on Earth. The book had more than 50 pages of graphs and charts plotting growth curves and listing societal averages; those Nero only glanced at. More than half the book Nero considered ¡®fluff¡¯. In fact, the entire last chapter boiled down to ¡®your path is yours alone¡¯ and ¡®you can be anything you want to be¡¯. ¡®I swear I¡¯m going to hold a protest or something, these people are way too upbeat,¡¯ he thought with a grimace. Checking the time (28:24). Nero got up, tossed the book on his desk and went to the bathroom. There is a 30 hour day, with the 30 days in a month, 3 months in a ¡®trien¡¯, and 3 triens in a year. ¡®Somebody or something definitely is doing some magic-fuckery to mess with the laws of nature here.¡¯ he noted. Flushing the toilet, He brushed his teeth and then went to bed. Using his link to turn of the lights, Nero closed his eyes. He decided to check his identity before bed. ¡®This should be a habit I get into,¡¯ he thought.
Name Nero Walker Level 4
Race Human Growth 100%
Tier 1 Condition 100%
Age 14 Center 72%
Body 1 Mind 1
Soul 1 Confluence 10
Stars 0 Pillars 0/0
¡®How am I leveling so fast? Better question, why didn¡¯t I level when I reached 100% growth?¡¯ he wondered. Nero went over his identity, finding no answers to his questions. He noticed that his Center seemed to recharge much faster than the books implied as well. It had only been a few hours and he was already recovered, more or less. ¡®I¡¯m not telling Nick about this, he¡¯s just going to go all mad scientist and do something that makes me puke again,¡¯ he thought. Rolling onto his side, Nero tried to banish the situation to the back of his mind. ¡®This is bullshit. I was promised a world of dungeons and dragons, with levels and growing power, and all I get is a world of motivational speakers and social studies dorks. I¡¯m not meant for this. I was a cog in the crappy machine back home, I¡¯m not going to be one here too. I¡¯m just going to put up with what I have to. Meanwhile, I¡¯ll learn magic, read some books on monsters, learn how to stab things, and then I can do whatever I want. I¡¯ll find some ¡®socially disruptive¡¯ women and introduce this world to what a max level warlock can do!¡¯ He swore to himself as he clenched his fists while he laid in bed and scrunched his brow with his eyes closed as he imagined his future. ¡®Ding¡¯ he heard, then felt the essence around him flowing, gently ruffling the sheets. Nero sat up like a kid who heard the ice cream truck, eyes opening wide. His surprise was quickly followed by a look of fury. ¡®GOD DAMN PERSONAL IMPROVEMENT BULLSHIT!¡¯ Nero screamed in his mind. Nero had read about this. ¡®You have to know yourself to realize your growth¡¯. ¡®Nope, I¡¯m not dealing with this right now,¡¯ he emphatically decided. Patting his sheets to get comfortable, Nero ignored everything. While focusing on his imagined epic powers and future conquests, Nero drifted off to sleep. Chapter 17 - Nero makes it to class, technically. Captain Angleton kept his shield up with his left hand and adjusted his grip on his sword with his right. He moved with measured steps around the arena in order to ensure that he wasn¡¯t surrounded. Calm breaths pumped through his lungs. His heart rate was elevated, but steady. ¡®This is what I¡¯m made for,¡¯ he thought. His three opponents glanced at each other. They were all sergeants. They had all taken the oaths of knighthood in the Hall of Truth. They were all strong defenders of Oglivarch. They were all getting beaten, and badly at that. That was just the way it went when fighting the Captain. He was a wall¡­ that healed. They coordinated over their links, and with common purpose charged. With a strong push of his back foot, the Captain shot forward toward his chosen target, which was Sergeant Clark on his left. As Clark¡¯s spear was caught out of position by the captain¡¯s charge, his grip folded and he face planted into the Captain¡¯s shield. Stunned and flat-footed, Clark watched the Captain slip around the side to isolate him from his support. As the other two sergeants, Borson and Blackwood, tried to reposition, the captain pulled on the essence in the air. With a casual flip of his hand, his sword switched to a reverse grip and he thrust the hilt toward Clark¡¯s chest and a golden shield shot out toward the recovering sergeant. Borson and Blackwood could only grimace as Clark went shooting between them, his spear flying off in a different direction. ¡°Well, that¡¯s it for Clark. You wanna try screwing with his senses again, that kinda worked before. I¡¯ll blitz the bastard and take his legs,¡± Borson said over his link to Blackwood. ¡°It doesn¡¯t work on him, you know that. He just fights blind,¡± Blackwood replied. ¡°I¡¯m not hearing any ideas from you. Fuck it, let¡¯s just go,¡± Borson said, then charged. The Captain met Borson¡¯s charge with a wide, two foot tall, three feet wide shield that Borson decided to jump over. Borson leapt in the air, essence swirling around him. His two handed claymore lit up with a red haze as he screamed. Slamming into the Captain like a descending meteor, the explosive charge stumbled Blackwood even several feet away. The Captain had merely tilted his shield and leaned back a little to receive the massive strike. He didn¡¯t smirk or congratulate himself, he was already moving. With a slight side-step to the left, he further exposed his back to Blackwood, while pushing Borson¡¯s sword point to the ground with his shield. With his sword still held in a reverse-grip, the captain spun and led the sword point into Borson''s back, just below the chestpiece. Borson cried out and collapsed, dropping his sword and focusing on stemming the blood. The Captain¡¯s maneuver ended with his feet planted and his shield pointed at Blackwood who had tried to take advantage of the Captain having turned his back to him. Blackwood¡¯s shield clanged against the Captain¡¯s. His charge foiled, Blackwood focused essence into his psychic field to disrupt the Captains equilibrium. As his ability hit, Blackwood tried to hook the Captain''s shield with his own. Trying to stab over the top of their conjoined shields, he stumbled as the resistance disappeared from his shield. Feeling the Captain moving to his left he tried to reposition only to feel his leg suffer a deep wound at the knee. As Blackwood fell forward, he caught himself using his shield, slamming it¡¯s base into the ground to act as a crutch. He then froze as he felt the Captains blade at his neck, softly sitting on his shoulder from behind. ¡®I don¡¯t know why we even bother. Borson¡¯s an idiot for always dragging us into these matches. We¡¯d be better off just training with people our own level.¡¯ he thought, while sighing. Blackwood sat down next to a bleeding and cursing Borson, he watched the Captain sheathe his sword, and unsummon his shield. ¡®The bastard isn''t even breathing hard. Thirty minutes of careful fighting and he looks like he just attended a seminar on gardening,¡¯ he thought. The Captain raised his hand, and in the distance you could see an unconscious Clark being levitated toward the group. The Captain placed Clark down and closed his eyes. Essence swirled and his hands glowed gold. He held them palm out toward the three, and waves of healing energy moved forward, clinging to the wounds. Soon, Clark woke up and shook his head as if he wasn¡¯t surprised at what he found. Borson stretched and looked ready to go again. Blackwood however, didn¡¯t move. He just stayed sitting down and stared at Borson like he was contemplating murder. ¡°Alright men, good effort. Each of you has improved a great deal since the last time we fought. However, there is plenty of room for further improvement. As the win is mine, I demand thirty hours in the yard from each of you, on top of your scheduled training,¡± The captain said. He turned, and added over his shoulder as he walked away, ¡°I want it done by the new week.¡± ¡°Borson, this was the last time,¡± Blackwood grumbled. ¡°You always say that. We¡¯ll get him next time,¡± Borson replied easily. He stood up, dusted himself off, then collected his claymore. Lovingly checking it for damage, he unsummoned it. Doing some stretches, he worked out the kinks in his back from the fresh healing. ¡°I wasn¡¯t even in the room when you two assholes challenged him. Why the hell did it have to involve me?¡± Clark asked, as he went to collect his spear. ¡°We needed a third. During the meeting, I had said that we have gotten much stronger, and we could easily take the Captain now,¡± Borson said. He then waved to Blackwood, ¡°Then he says that we couldn¡¯t win even if we had a third. I called bullshit, and here we are.¡± ¡°Once again, what does that have to do with me?¡± Clark asked with his hands on his hips. ¡°Borson saw you first when we left the meeting room,¡± Blackwood shrugged while still sitting on his ass. His sword and shield were laying where he dropped them. Clark just shook his head, ¡°This is why no one likes you two. You guys suck.¡± Sighing, Blackwood stood up and collected his gear. ¡°Come on, I¡¯ll buy you a beer and you¡¯ll feel much better about it,¡± he said. As they walked out of the training arena, they passed the meditation area where Captain Angelton was going over the fight in his head. Internalizing each move, each decision, his mind wandered to his current worries. Command was concerned that they haven¡¯t found any sign of Islangurs moving in the area. Other than the small camp that they cleared out without issue, there were no signs of a larger presence. While there shouldn¡¯t have been any of them this far north to begin with, the collective opinion was that something didn¡¯t add up. The raiding detachment which performed the caravan raid didn¡¯t have any powerful mages, and the men he had brought to subdue them was overkill. There was no one in that camp that could cloak a group that size, let alone open a portal. ¡®How did they get here?¡¯ he wondered, not for the first time. The city¡¯s mages have been spending their center like water, trying to scry for signs of the enemy. ¡®Maybe someone in the merchant train saw something, so they had to be eliminated, even if it exposed the hidden raiders,¡¯ he thought. How large is their main force if they could sacrifice 100 men without issue? Every raider fought to the last. The survivors even detonated their center when faced with capture. Islangurs aren¡¯t that loyal to their country. Everyone in that cesspit of a kingdom is just out for themselves. Command has every gate looking for answers, and no one has any. ¡®I must be missing something. There is always a path forward. I just need a lead,¡¯ he thought. Using his link, the Captain brought up the report from intake concerning the sole survivor that was filed with the 7th Gate army detachment. The boy had no memories of the attack, no memories of anything. He was a completely new soul. The researcher that did his soul-eval did make a note that his perspective is completely foreign to this area. ¡®Maybe he noticed something that he didn¡¯t know was important,¡¯ thought the captain. Captain Angelton decided that he¡¯d track the boy down and see if he remembered anything, or had a lead he could follow. Feeling better now that he had a path to follow, he stood up and started back towards his office. ------- Nero walked into the library with a smile on his face. After getting an early breakfast, he had some time before his combat class for beginners. As he walked up to the front desk, he looked for the helpful guy he annoyed the last time he was here. Unfortunately, there was no sign of his favorite librarian. Nero wanted to ask for the sequel to ¡°What you need to know now that you¡¯ve awakened.¡± He was sure that whatever the guy said in response could be used to make the guy¡¯s smile crack. Putting thoughts of trolling people aside, he waited in line and walked up to an available librarian. ¡°Hello, I need to return this book. I can still look at it through the link right? Oh, and can I use a link at any station, or do I need to register or something first?¡± He asked. Taken from Royal Road, this narrative should be reported if found on Amazon. ¡°Any station is fine, the system will know if you have authorization for something. And all of our books are available while you are on Center property and are authorized for viewing. Is there anything I can help you find?¡± the librarian asked politely. ¡°Nah, I¡¯m good. Thanks,¡± replied Nero as he walked off with a dismissive wave. Looking around, he found a desk with a pad of paper on it and a small cup of pens. He sat down and connected to the station. There was a lot of information available; including options for searching for books, both through the link and hard copy. There were research journals available. Also news selections with current events and historical records. There were a lot of editorials, which were oddly listed under entertainment. A sports section had team fights, and singles for the Arena Center. There was something simply called ¡®The Game¡¯ championships in current events. Just going through the headers for all the different sections was more than he could handle. It all seemed familiar, but at the same time very different from what he was used to. Eventually he returned to his original purpose: magic. The information there was just as overwhelming. There were sections on current research journals, and academic information from Center-point. Center-point was the mage college with schools in every major city. Looking up the requirements to get in showed that Mrs. Salvatore was understating what a person would need to get a scholarship there. ¡®Typical elitist bullshit,¡¯ he thought with a scowl. At least it seems that the requirements are the same for everyone, but the nobles had a better chance of being able to pay for tuition. After all, they were rich. The average citizen would need to rely on scholarships. Luckily, the schools didn''t seem to prioritize a person''s background. ¡®Ha! If you¡¯re even related to a noble house, you¡¯re ineligible for a scholarship,¡¯ he noticed with a smile. It looks like they take a lot of people who aren¡¯t nobles, and have them work off the debt of education. After graduation they owe 50 years of service, that¡¯s a lifetime commitment. Even here, that¡¯s a big chunk of time. ¡®Maybe that isn¡¯t a lifetime commitment here. I still don¡¯t know enough to say for sure,¡¯ Nero thought. Exiting back a few steps through the link, Nero looked for information on how to LEARN magic. There was a section on basic household magic, simple combat casting, lots of references on where to learn specific things. He needed to find a section for children. ¡®This is humiliating,¡¯ he thought while he searched. Eventually he found the section for ¡®introduction to magic¡¯. Looking through the options for some simple hardcover books that he could get, a sense of the aisle and the titles were available in his head. Nero didn¡¯t need to write anything down. ¡®Neat. But then why do they even bother with stations for people to search for books? Can¡¯t I just use the link as I walk around?¡¯ Nero wondered to himself. Getting up he walked through the library. Enjoying the tall shelves and general ambiance, he eventually found the area he was looking for. The books were all the exact same height and width. Every one of them clearly labeled along the spine. ¡®It must be some rule they have to follow, that doesn¡¯t happen on accident,¡¯ he noted. The mental directions, available through his link, led him right to the books he wanted. He figured he¡¯d start with three books. The first was the textbook for his class that started next week, ¡®Understanding the basics of Essence¡¯. Next, ¡®My first spell tome¡¯, which was a small kids book with some basic elemental and household spells that he figured parents gave to their kids when they were in middle school. Lastly, ¡®Dealing Damage at Distance: An introductory guide to magical combat¡¯. The last book was meant for people who were already casters of some kind, but the title spoke to Nero. Once he figured out how to buy books, he was going to get a copy signed by the author. ¡®What a great title!¡¯ he thought. While perusing the aisles for other magical books, his sense-of-time warned him to get moving. Sighing, he decided to go check out his selections at the front desk, then head off to his combat class. The link was awesome, it gave him direction to wherever he wanted to go, and information on whatever he could think of. In fact, he had to actively choose to keep closing the connection because it was too easy to just leave it open and learn about whatever caught his eye. It was never in depth information, but general information was available for everything through the Center hub that was all around him. He could look at a painting and learn the name, subject, and artist just like he was walking around with an all knowing tour guide. He was going to have issues with his center if he kept using the link for everything.
Name Nero Walker Level 5
Race Human Growth 1%
Tier 1 Condition 100%
Age 14 Center 88%
Body 1 Mind 1
Soul 1 Confluence 10
Stars 1 Pillars 0/0
Nero had barely started his day, and he was already below 90% for his center. As he already had an idea on how to get to the combat class, which was on the other side of the courtyard, he closed his link and focused on his plan for the day. First, get his workout in, then lunch, then MAGIC. ¡®All day, everyday!¡¯ That was to be Nero¡¯s motto. One day, he will be an immortal wizard in a traveling tower. He had read too many stories for that NOT to be his dream. Arriving at a very large domed building with statues of warriors lining the walls. ¡®Gee, I wonder if this is where they learn to fight?¡¯ Nero thought as he chuckled at the obviousness of the building. Inside, there were people everywhere. Some of them were in mail armor, some in regular clothes, others in combat robes. The place looked like a fantasy convention. He looked around and saw large information stations interspersed throughout the entry way. But, thanks to his link, he already knew where to go with a brief flash of blue from his temple. He still had about a half hour until class, but he figured being early couldn¡¯t hurt. He had his small satchel filled with books if he got bored. Walking up to a pair of doors that were open, he peeked in and saw a large combat area with racks of weapons and a meditation area off to the side. It looked like a very large martial arts studio, complete with great lighting, mats for falling, and even some potted plants for ambiance. There were a few newly awakened kids off in the meditation area, and Nero assumed the guy doing a sword form in the middle of the combat area was the instructor. The guy looked maybe 25, had short blond hair and reminded Nero of those guys who were martial artists in strip malls. ¡®I guess it¡¯s true everywhere: If you can¡¯t do¡­ teach,¡¯ he noted with a chuckle. The more Nero thought about it, the less he was surprised. Why did he expect some uber-badass to be teaching a beginner combat class at the community center? Nero was really going to have to reign in his instinct to screw with the man. The poor guy was just doing his job, he didn¡¯t sign up to get picked on by a kid whose ass he wasn¡¯t allowed to kick. The instructor was probably the butt of a lot of jokes from real warriors. He probably can¡¯t stand up to them, but he could kick Nero¡¯s ass. ¡®Don¡¯t poke this dude, you know how it will end,¡¯ Nero reminded himself. Patiently waiting for the instructor to finish his sword-dance thing, Nero stood at the edge of the mat and folded his hands. Eventually the guy finished and sheathed his sword into nothing at his hip, and then bowed to the wall. ¡®Oh come on¡­ how does this guy not expect to get made fun of when he does shit like that,¡¯ he said to himself. Nero did his best to not cringe, and said, ¡°Hi, I¡¯m Nero Walker. I signed up for this class as I have no idea how to fight, and the description said this is where I start?¡± Looking over at Nero, the guy walked up calmly with his head held high. ¡°Good Morning, My name is Lance Stamford, you may call me Teacher, or Mr. Stamford. We take our training seriously here, and I expect you to come dressed for combat in the future. For today you can just take off your outer robe and take it easy. Just follow along with the class, and you¡¯ll pick everything up. If you have any questions, feel free to ask any of your seniors. Do you have any questions?¡± ¡®Of course this fuck-stick is named Lance,¡¯ thought Nero. ¡°No sir, I¡¯ll try to be better prepared for class in the future,¡± Nero said. Lance just nodded as if Nero¡¯s response was only proper, then walked away to resume being a tool. Nero went to the benches to drop off his satchel, robes, and boots in the corner. He sat down on a bench and started unclasping his boots, when he felt a presence at the door. Everyone in the room paused and looked over at the door. Calmly looking around, in strode Captain Angelton. ¡®Did he always feel like that?¡¯ Nero wondered. After visually inspecting the room, the Captain spotted Nero. Seemingly finding what he was looking for, he gave Nero a nod and turned toward the instructor. His presence offered a stark contrast between a would-be warrior and an actual warrior. He stood in chain-mail with his blue tabard, still wearing his sword as if it were a part of him. Without moving his feet or offering a greeting, he simply locked eyes with the instructor and raised his hand toward Nero. ¡°I need that boy, I¡¯ll bring him back before the classes end if time permits.¡± he said. He then lowered his hand and waited for a response. Everyone was frozen, Nero still had his legs crossed and a boot half off. ¡°Um¡­ Yes Sir. It¡¯s good to meet you Sir. I am Lance Stamford, I was part of the Gate 7 monster elimination squad. If there is anything you need, I¡¯m sure I can be a service. My background is in¡­¡± Lance stood up straight and started blathering. The Captain turned while the instructor was still talking, and started walking toward Nero. ¡°No. That¡¯s fine. Continue what you were doing, I¡¯m just here for the boy,¡± he said as he walked toward Nero. Standing over him he said to Nero, ¡°Come with me, I have some questions about the Merchant train raid.¡± He then noticed that Nero was frozen. ¡°What¡¯s the matter boy, just put your boots on and get up. I don¡¯t have all day.¡± While Nero was panicking, and unsuccessfully closing his boot clasps, Lance had walked over to the young adults on the meditation mats. He was explaining who the captain was, and how it was an honor to be in the presence of a great warrior. He then went into a story about his time ¡®in the service¡¯ and other nonsense. The kids were very impressed, and smiled as they listened to Lance¡¯s drivel. Nero finally stood up and collected his satchel. Looking at the Captain, Nero was reminded why the man had intimidated him before. ¡®The Dude is just big¡­ I thought it was just because I was sitting down, but this guy is large, with a capital ¡®L¡¯,¡¯ he thought. Seeing that Nero was ready. The Captain turned toward the door. Nero noticed the captain¡¯s movements were a little too smooth, the man was like a giant panther. Over his shoulder, the captain said, ¡°Come along, we¡¯ll borrow a conference room.¡± Nero nodded, and hurried to catch up. He didn¡¯t want to waste this man¡¯s time. Chapter 18 - Other people are the speed bumps on the road of life. The captain¡¯s long strides made Nero walk uncomfortably fast in order to keep up. Nero remembered that the captain walked like this when he brought Nero to the center. Apparently, the guy just walked quickly everywhere. ¡®It must be a stat thing,¡¯ Nero thought to himself. Nero decided to ignore the fact that the Captain had almost a foot on him, and tended to ¡®walk with purpose¡¯. Eventually the Captain led Nero to a small conference room off the lobby area, and he gestured for Nero to take a seat as he closed the door. The conference room wasn¡¯t large, but still kept to the Center¡¯s theme of wood walls and artwork. There were no windows, and lighting was supplied by the glow panels that were so common. ¡®At least this doesn¡¯t look like an interrogation room,¡¯ Nero thought as he sat down. Taking a chair on the opposite side of the table, the Captain waved his hand and a small notebook and pen appeared in his hands. He then looked up at a confused Nero and said, ¡°Now Mr. Walker, I want you to go over everything that you noticed from the moment you woke up, to when my detachment found you. You might have seen something useful that you don¡¯t realize the importance of.¡± Nero wasn¡¯t listening, he was staring at the pen and notebook. ¡°How did you do that? Was that an inventory?¡± Nero asked with an intense look on his face. ¡°Huh? How did I do what? I don¡¯t have any goods. What are you talking about?¡± The Captain said as he looked around for what inventory the boy was gesturing towards. ¡°What? No. The paper and pen. How did you get them? They weren¡¯t in your hands, then you did something, then you had them. How did you do that?¡± Nero asked, trying to be as specific as possible. ¡°Oh, right. You have no idea of what anything is. It¡¯s a basic personal spell based on translocation magic. It accesses an inter-dimensional space that I tied to my soul so I could carry things around. I usually store some weapons and other basic necessities in mine.¡± He said as if he was explaining something simple to a child. ¡°This is why I want you to go over what you saw. I noticed the report filed with the Gate 7 Command made note of your very unique way of viewing what is important. Maybe you saw something that everyone else would KNOW to tell us about, but you didn¡¯t think was important. You understand?¡± The Captain said. Nero was only half listening. With that spell, he could carry all his books. He could carry food. Would it spoil? Was it time-locked like the inventory spaces in the stories? Could it store other things, like energy, fire, or a giant rock? How much could he store? What are the spell¡¯s limitations? ¡°Are you listening, boy¡± The Captain said with annoyed look on his face as he rapped his knuckles loudly on the table. ¡°What? Oh yeah, totally. You want me tell you what happened after I woke up in the dead body. No problem.¡± Nero said, trying to backtrack in his memory like he was caught by a teacher while not paying attention. ¡°But, I already told you what happened. Why do you want to hear it again?¡± Nero asked? The Captain hung his head and sighed. ¡°Just tell me your observations of everything from the moment you woke up until you saw me. OK?¡± ¡°Uh¡­ sure. Well, I woke up to a bunch of pain. Then the pain went away. I saw a bunch of wolves eating the dead bodies, so I backed up slowly to the carriage. The wolves were acting weird, is that the kinda stuff you wanna know?¡± Nero asked. The captain made a note, ¡°Yes. How were the wolves ¡®acting weird¡¯?¡± ¡°Well, there was intelligence in their eyes. I could tell that they would ignore me if I didn¡¯t interrupt their meal. They divided into groups to pull the bodies away and left some wolves to stand between me and their meal.¡± Nero said. ¡°That¡¯s normal, even basic beasts in the open forest have some basic intelligence. Wolves have a strong essence bond among the packs, that¡¯s not unusual. Next.¡± The captain said as he crossed out what he wrote. ¡°Um¡­ observations right? Let me think.¡± Nero paused and furrowed his brow in thought. He went back over his experience that day, and the conclusion that he drew. ¡°Alright. So I found a few things that were interesting I guess. One, whoever attacked had looted all the bodies, and most of the goods right? Well, they didn¡¯t take any women or anything. Isn¡¯t that something bad guys do? Sex is a thing here right? I¡¯m not saying that raping and pillaging is good, but don¡¯t they usually go together? If these assholes were OK with killing and robbing a bunch of people, what stopped them from doing the really evil shit. So I thought that it must be soldiers under orders. Typically someone in charge sets limits on those below them. None of the bodies were disfigured or messed with. They just killed everybody as efficiently as possible. I didn¡¯t notice anyone singled out. Um¡­ So I thought that was weird.¡± Nero said as he stared off and kept going. Meanwhile, the Captain was taking notes and nodding with a thoughtful look on his face. ¡°Also, they looted everything. I had nothing in my pockets, no coin purse, not even a breath mint. I didn¡¯t have a link, which is apparently super common. I didn¡¯t check everyone else, but that seems weird now that I think about it,¡± Nero continued. ¡°That¡¯s a good point,¡± The captain interrupted and sat up in his chair. He stopped writing and started thinking about something. ¡°Wait. Can they use the links to hack into the system and upload a virus into everyone¡¯s head? Maybe they are using them to inject thoughts into the citizens to rebel! Or they could increase the input to create a feedback loop that melts everyone¡¯s brains. Maybe something more subtle. They could be inputing fake identities into the network so that they can move through the city, hidden from those in power. Can they link them together to make an enemy Thought-hub? Or maybe it¡¯s spy stuff, can they get into the city¡¯s database and steal military secrets, or battle plans, or troop deployments? Maybe some secret magic that Oglivarch has? Does Oglivarch have some super powerful spell that is all that stands between it¡¯s people and total destruction?¡± Nero rubbed his chin and went through all tropes that he could think of. ¡°What the hell are you talking about? The Thought-hub doesn¡¯t work like that. Where do you come up with this stuff?¡± The Captain looked in horror at the kid who harbored such ridiculous conspiracy theories. He shook his head to clear the confusion, ¡°They probably took them because someone¡¯s link registered a contact that would be flagged when they came into range of the city. If a link senses someone who is of note, or in a weird place, a note is sent through filters until it gets to someone who would need to know about it. For example, no link should register you in the female locker room. If one does, whoever is in charge of that area at that time will be notified of the anomaly. Everyone in the city has a psychic profile, which acts as their ID. It¡¯s useful for situations like today, when I decided I needed to speak with you. I thought about where you were; and because I¡¯m a captain looking for you in the course of my duties, I was given the information about your whereabouts. If it were say, 26:00 and I just was curious where you were, the Thought-hub would deem the thought irrelevant and none of my business. Think of the Thought-hub of the city as the collective ¡®will¡¯ of the city. It can be tweaked by the logicians who work there, but it can¡¯t be subverted. Does that clear things up?¡± The Captain asked. ¡°Not really, but I¡¯ll take what I can get,¡± Nero replied. ¡°So you think one of the links at the caravan registered the contact of a psychic profile that would have been recognized by the cities Thought-hub,¡± Nero rubbed his head like the sentence caused him pain. ¡°You mean someone didn¡¯t want to be ratted out by someone¡¯s phone registering a contact with another phone that shouldn¡¯t be there. All this means is that you have a traitor. I¡¯m guessing some asshole is going to make money off getting the bad guys to be near the city. Probably a disgruntled noble who was promised power once the invasion succeeds. I¡¯m guessing they are hiding the forces from your mages too. They are most likely gathering their strength and will invade soon, since they¡¯ve been exposed.¡± Nero nodded and leaned back. He crossed his arms with a smile, happy to have solved the plot for season 2 while still in season 1. The Captain shot to his feet, the color drained from his face. ¡°How do you come to that conclusion from what I said?¡± He said as he placed his hands face down on the table and leaned over with his most intimidating glare. Unauthorized tale usage: if you spot this story on Amazon, report the violation. Nero¡¯s smile faltered as he uncrossed his arms. ¡°Um¡­ it¡¯s always some rich asshole. And the only reason a traitor would care if he was discovered was if he were someone important. You said the Icelanders shouldn¡¯t be here, so someone had to help them get here. Also, what¡¯s the point of sneaking in one raiding band. No one would pay for that, they¡¯d pay to get an army. And the only people that fit all the plot-points are rich noble douche-bags. Why do people with power and money do anything¡­ well, for more power and money. What¡¯s going up for a noble? Killing the nobles above them and getting a promotion,¡± Nero finished quietly. ¡°Um¡­ not that I condone that type of behavior or anything like that¡­ um¡­ sir.¡± The Captain leaned back and stretched to his full height, placing his hands on his belt. He looked down at Nero like the boy was a puzzle with missing pieces. ¡°Boy, have you ever played the game?¡± he asked. ¡°Like the game of thrones or whatever? I saw every season¡­ well the first season. But I doubt you¡¯re talking about that. No sir, I haven¡¯t played the game,¡± Nero said, realizing this was NOT the moment to poke the Captain. ¡°What is your learning path right now?¡± The Captain asked. ¡°My learning path? I signed up for a basic combat class, and my introduction to mag¡­ I mean introduction to essence is starting next week. I am a worker-associate with a pretty sweet gig at the Research center,¡± Nero said, interested to see where the Captain was going with this. ¡°I¡¯m going to offer you the opportunity to take the basics of combat with the army. We have better instructors, and we have classes daily for new recruits. The intro to essence is fine, but I¡¯ll take a look into what basic combat caster classes we have. It¡¯s not a common path, but I¡¯ll see what I can do. You¡¯ve been a great help, and you have a sharp mind. Keep it well honed. I¡¯ll be in touch,¡± he said. The Captain then waved his hand, and his notebook and pen vanished. Giving Nero a nod, he just turned and left the room. Nero sat there in silence as he looked at the closed door. ¡°I guess we¡¯re done talking then?¡± He said to the now empty room. ¡®Fucking weird people, can¡¯t take two seconds to wish me a good day and shake my damned hand,¡¯ he mentally groused. Nero stood up, grumbled some more expletives as he strapped on his satchel, and then finally left the room. Checking his link as to how to go back to his room, he noted the time and realized he could go back to class. Thinking of Lance, he decided that an early lunch might be a better idea. It was only 10:15, and Nero was already done with this day. He walked down the hallways and found himself back in the courtyard. At least it was a nice day. Walking into the lobby of the dorms, he smiled and nodded to everyone. He was becoming more accustomed to the constant aura of courtesy. He was almost through the door to the cafeteria, when he was stopped short. Suddenly appearing in front of him was... the hawk. Ms. Averett popped into existence like she was summoned from the ether to catch the unaware. Standing with her arms crossed, her presence appeared as though it was always there, filling the hallway. Nero froze like a teenager caught smoking behind the gym. Unbidden, the words came out of Nero¡¯s mouth. ¡°I didn¡¯t do it. It wasn¡¯t me,¡± he said. A slight tilting of one side of her mouth was the only hint of a smile. She said, ¡°You¡¯re supposed to be in basic combat class with that fancy-man Stamford. Why. Are. You. Here?¡± Nero took a few seconds in order to reboot his brain. ¡°Oh, well I got pulled out of class by Captain Angelton to... Oh, he was the head of the army people that found me with the merchant caravan. He just wanted to ask me some questions about what I saw. Then he told me that I was going to be training with the army recruits. He said he¡¯ll contact me about it,¡± Nero said. He then smiled innocently, ¡°I didn¡¯t skip class. I was just following orders ma¡¯am. It¡¯s important to respect the chain of command.¡± Her eyes narrowed, ¡°Alright, I¡¯ll personally look into this situation.¡± As she lowered her arms and started to turn away, she paused and locked her side-eye gaze on Nero. ¡°Normally I wouldn¡¯t care, but your psychic field screams chaos. I can spot a trouble maker on sight. Did you know that I¡¯m the oldest of 7 children, and all of those little bastards are boys. Always causing chaos. I can feel you being mostly honest, yet shaping the narrative to your benefit. You¡¯re the kind of young man that can either be a demon or a god. I chose to work in the Center dorms for a reason. The young need help finding their path. You have my attention now, and I WILL help you find yours,¡± she said in a quiet yet firm voice. With those ominous words echoing into Nero¡¯s mind, she walked off. Nero stood at attention with his hands at his side, just watching her leave. He didn¡¯t want to move, or she might come back. ¡®What a terrifyingly competent lady,¡¯ he thought to himself while trying to shake off the encounter. Nero wondered why all the women around here were so intimidating. ¡®Where the hell are the women with book clubs that complain about¡­ whatever it is they complain about?¡¯ he wondered. Pondering what kind of ¡®book club¡¯ the hawk would attend, he shivered, and walked off. Nero decided to skip lunch and just go back to his room. Walking through the halls and taking a look at everyone¡¯s robes, he realized what he was missing. He was at this worlds equivalent of the ivy league, surrounded by this world¡¯s elites. There must be people in the city who don¡¯t do anything. They must have a bowling league equivalent, the home owner¡¯s associations; not everyone in this world would be like these people. There must be people that ¡®work to live¡¯, rather than ¡®live to work¡¯. Getting to his room, he entered and tossed his bag at the desk. He went to the bathroom to do his business and grab a glass of water. With a pleased sigh, he sat down at his desk. Nero looked around the room. There was no television. No mini fridge. No music player. ¡®You just ditched a class on learning how to fight, in order to study?¡¯ he said to himself with an amused smile. Shaking it off, Nero thought it best not to dwell on the implications. He had magic to learn. Seeing that his center was close to full, he noticed that he had a spare star. ¡®Oh yeah, I leveled last night,¡¯ he thought. Nero brought up his link to send a message to Nick. He carefully thought about sending ONLY a message to Nick. Nero tried to focus on the IMPORTANCE of it being a message, NOT a call. He got an image in his head of a red sheet of paper that was blank. ¡®I should call this mind mail, or m-mail,¡¯ Nero decided. Looking at the blank page in his head, he wondered why it was red. Dismissing the color as unimportant, he wrote out his note: ¡®Hey Nick, I leveled again last night. LOL. So I have another star available. I know you want to record me using them in your forge. Remember our deal. I get free room and board, a job where I don¡¯t have to do anything, and all the classes I want. You get to put me in the lights. Oh, by the way, you still owe me the magic stuff you promised me. It was your fault for telling your wife about the stars. I specifically didn¡¯t say anything about it:) I was very careful:p I¡¯ll be waiting to hear from you. - Nero¡¯ It couldn¡¯t hurt to remind Nick the benefits that he could gain by getting Nero a job and what-not. Happy that his machinations were moving forward. Nero buckled down, and pulled out his books. He planned to hide in his room until dinner, go eat, and then come right back and get into it again. He opened his ¡®Understanding the basics of Essence¡¯ book, got his pen and paper for notes ready, and took a deep breath. ¡®The Grind begins,¡¯ he thought with relish. That lasted about 5 minutes. Nero received a ping on his link. Focusing on the incoming connection, he was lambasted by the presence of Mrs. Salvatore. ¡°Nick was called into the Gate 7 army compound for a meeting with the command staff. I couldn¡¯t find anything out. Did you accuse him of something?¡± She asked in a tight voice before Nero could even say ¡®hi¡¯. ¡°Um, what? I mean... nothing. I didn¡¯t talk about Nick at all. The Captain¡­. The one who found me¡­ He showed up earlier this morning and just asked me about what I remember from the merchant train attack. We didn¡¯t talk about Nick at all. I don¡¯t know anything about it. Is there anything I could do to help?¡± Nero asked, completely confused. Once again, he was speaking his part of the conversation out loud. But now he was speaking to an empty room. If someone were watching, they¡¯d think he was arguing with the voices in his head. Nero could feel her mind calming. ¡°No, it¡¯s fine. I don¡¯t know why the army would be involved anyway. We¡¯ll figure it out. By the way, your paperwork is in for your work-associate status, and Nick has a meeting with the Research council tomorrow. Make sure to fill out the forms waiting for you on the Center-hub,¡± Vera said as she closed the connection. A little stunned, Nero just sat there like a lump. ¡®OK, good talk,¡¯ he remarked to himself. Nero looked down at the book he just started. Instead of reading anything, he just went back over the conversation with the Captain in his head. Nero couldn¡¯t think of anything that had to do with Nick. Wait, the captain referenced a file that must have come from intake. That was probably the file for his soul-check or whatever. That¡¯s the connection. He wondered if there was anything concerning the testing which could hurt him. Nothing came to mind. Is it worth calling the Captain, or Nick to stick his nose into this? He couldn¡¯t see any benefit to being involved. Either something comes up that he has to deal with, or he never hears anything about it again. ¡®Don¡¯t go looking for trouble, I already have enough on my plate,¡¯ he reminded himself. Nero decided to forget about the situation and get back to his magic studies. He¡¯ll get to the paperwork for the job later. For now¡­. ¡®The Grind continues¡¯¡­. Chapter 19 - Is sounding like an idiot evidence of idiocy? Nick had gotten up early to touch base with a few committee members in order to lobby support for his Nero-project. The amount of priceless data which could be gained from studying such an oddity was immeasurable. Who knows what interesting things will happen to the kid as he progresses along his path. Just being able to use the data from the 3-star test was enough to convince everyone he had spoken with. Not a single member of the committee refused to sign off on his proposal. Sipping his coffee, Nick went through his paperwork for the day. He was dealing with pings concerning the various functions of the Research Center, while also collating data from an experiment on essence crystal decay. As he worked, essence illusions were opening and closing in rapid succession while dancing across the workspace of his desk. Conclusions were being formed, and pings alerting him to issues were being addressed. Nick was in his happy place. His mind was at peace, and his productivity was soaring. His door opened without being pinged, breaking his concentration. He looked up to see Vera walking in. She was still angry with him. Nick sighed and saved his work. As his link turned off, he smiled and said, ¡°Hello dear, to what do I owe this surprise, I thought I wouldn¡¯t be seeing you until dinner.¡± She sniffed harshly. ¡°I put in the paperwork for Mr. Walker¡¯s work-associate status, it was pre-approved already. I also received a ping from one of your lab assistants asking whether or not I should be receiving copies of the syllabus for ¡®project-nero¡¯. Then he inquired if I knew who Nero¡¯s Center studies advisor was. Do you know anything about that?¡± She asked with a smirk and her arms crossed. Nick just stared at her, trying to think of how to word his reply, ¡°Um¡­ Well¡­.¡± ¡°Project Nero. Really Nick? Isn¡¯t that a bit much. The young man doesn¡¯t have an advisor yet, he is 14. He hasn¡¯t even joined the Center officially yet. What are you planning?¡± Vera asked with amusement. ¡®This is just like Nick. Planning years in advance for something that is only an idea. He already has a full lesson plan for our children, if we ever decide to get around to it,¡¯ Vera thought to herself. Just then, Nick¡¯s link lit up. His eyebrows furrowed and he looked slightly to his left. His eyebrows shot to his forehead and his face paled. ¡°I¡¯m sorry Vera, but we¡¯ll have to discuss this later. Don¡¯t worry about ¡®Project-Nero¡¯, none of it is bad. I¡¯m just fulfilling the requests the young man made. I may not have been clear enough with my wording. It¡¯ll be fine,¡± he said. Nick stood up and started shutting down his station. He walked to around the desk and paused. He flicked his hand, and formed a body sized mirror from essence. Fixing his appearance, he straightened his back and assumed a serious posture. Vera¡¯s hands dropped to her sides. Confused and a little worried she asked, ¡°Nick, what¡¯s the matter?¡± ¡°Nothing,¡± he replied. ¡°I just got a request to appear in front of Gate 7 army command at my earliest convenience. The ping said to make sure that all the data I have concerning Mr. Walker is available for the meeting. Apparently, this concerns Nero. I have to go.¡± He walked up to her and gave her a soft kiss and rubbed her shoulders. ¡°It will be fine. I don¡¯t know what this is about, but I¡¯ll handle it,¡± he said in a voice filled with reassurance. His efforts were in vain, as Vera was still worried. It was very rare for Center-Research to have any contact with any of the Gate¡¯s army divisions. Occasionally they had a conjoined interest at City command level, but very rarely at the Gates. ¡°Do we need a lawyer? Should I call Jessica?¡± Vera asked. ¡°I don¡¯t think so. I can¡¯t think of anything that has to do with Nero that would require army involvement. I¡¯ll let you know as soon as I can¡­ I really have to go,¡± He kissed her one more time, and walked out of his office. Vera stood there feeling helpless. Immediately shaking that feeling off, she squared her shoulders, and mentally reviewed her contact list. Most of the people in the Gate 7 area have passed through her intake hall, and someone must know something. She had contacts all over the city. Making a list in her head as to who she should ping first, she thought if nothing else works out, she could ping Nero. As Vera was contemplating whether Nero would be of any help, Nick was walking quickly to the on-site teleportation room. Even with his haste, it was still a few minutes and an elevator ride before he walked in. The attendant at the station looked up as he entered. With narrowed eyes she said, ¡°Yes?¡± ¡°My presence was requested by Gate 7 army command ¡®at my earliest convenience¡¯. That would require me teleporting there, and this was the closest terminal. I could do it myself, but it would violate several statutes to teleport outside of a hub without authorization,¡± Nick said as he folded his hands behind his back and took up a professional demeanor. ¡°Name?¡± The attendant asked. ¡°Nicholas Salvatore, Director of Gate 7 Center Research.¡± Nick said. Inside, he was rolling his eyes. She had full access to identify anyone that walks into this room, she was just being lazy. ¡°There is nothing posted on the schedule so you can¡¯t use the pad, but the teleportation attendant on duty at the army compound said he doesn¡¯t mind if you teleport yourself to their room on your own,¡± She said as her link deactivated, and then returned to her book. With a disdainful sniff at her, Nick waved both his hands around and he started to glow with a weak gold light. His eyes went glassy, and then he vanished with a pop. She gave a sniff of her own, and then forgot about him. Arriving with another pop. Nick looked around and realized he was facing the wall. ¡®Hmm¡­. I need to practice my trans-dimensional spatial awareness¡­ that was pathetic,¡¯ he admonished himself. He then started walking toward the attendant who had a very large smile on his face. This book is hosted on another platform. Read the official version and support the author''s work. ¡°Director Salvatore, I¡¯m a big fan.¡± He bowed, and continued, ¡°Your paper on essence flow-rate similarities among elemental spell forms was inspiring.¡± ¡°Oh¡­ yes, thank you. It¡¯s always nice to meet someone who took something away from my work. I¡¯m glad it helped you on your path. If you¡¯ll excuse me, I have a meeting.¡± Nick gave a shallow bow and walked out. The young man was very nice, but Nick had to focus. He¡¯d been trying to think of what this could be about, and the only conclusion he could come to was that the file he turned into intake sent up a flag. What he couldn¡¯t deduce, was the nature of the flag. Making his way up to the Command floor, he checked in at the desk, and was ushered to where there was a meeting already underway. His escort asked him to wait, then went through the large ornately carved wood doors. A minute later, his escort returned and said, ¡°The General and the commanders will see you now.¡± Nick¡¯s eyebrows raised. ¡®What the hell is a general doing in this meeting? What the hell did that little shit do?¡¯ he wondered. Nick didn¡¯t allow any of his apprehension to show in his psychic field, let alone on his face. He walked in and stood at the end of a long desk. In the middle of one side there was the general, easily identified by the gold border of his tabard. It was General Branson, Nick recognized him. He was the leader of Dorchester¡¯s army. The room also had 12 other commanders, and what looked like 2 Captains. It was a relatively full table. Nick also noticed that there were essence illusions of various information plates all along the walls. As he looked around he realized that very few people at the table were looking at him with any interest. ¡°Mr. Salvatore, thank you for joining us. We didn¡¯t expect you so soon, please come in and take a seat,¡± One of the commanders said, while gesturing to one of the open chairs. ¡°Well, your ping was worded in a way that inspired haste gentlemen. Now what can Center-Research do for you?¡± Nick asked, as he sat down and folded his hands. A few of the commanders looked at each other confused. Some were listening but didn¡¯t seem to care. There were even some who were completely ignoring what was going on, as they were focusing on their links. The same commander, who was seated next to the general said, ¡°I don¡¯t know what your ping said, but this isn¡¯t in regards to a cooperation with Center-Research. This is concerning an intake form that you filed as the technician who performed his intake testing.¡± Nick said nothing and just continued to hold his calm expression. ¡®Sometimes the best thing to do is say nothing,¡¯ he thought, as the room soaked in the silence for a few seconds. ¡°Well?¡± The commander asked. ¡°I apologize. I didn¡¯t hear a question. What is it you would like to discuss. As you know, the details of a person¡¯s path are personal and can not be disclosed by an evaluator in any circumstance. I also didn¡¯t get your name Commander.¡± Nick said while looking every inch the Director of Center Research for Gate 7 Dorchester. The commander looked around the room with a confused look on his face. The other attendants of the meeting were now all paying attention to the conversation and exchanging looks filled with confusion and interest. The commander who was leading the meeting returned his gaze to Nick, ¡°We were unaware that the young man¡¯s path was of interest. I am Commander Graves and what we were hoping to discuss with you was this rather long section of your report.¡± His link lit up and in the center of the table a copy of the report was projected. It flipped through several pages, then landed on a section titled ¡®Further Notes¡¯. ¡°In this section you describe the interesting way the young man sees the world. Your words were, ¡®Mr. Walker¡¯s soul most likely comes from a distant region of space. As his soul was not wiped clean of personality when he was traveling through the upper planes, he seems to have a great many preconceptions embedded in his mind. These preconceptions and modes of thinking are without any basis, and can only be explained by a residual latent mind from his previous incarnation. This makes him extremely interesting to talk to, because he views the world through a lens that is impossible to form in our society,¡¯¡± Commander Graves finished reading the highlighted section of the report which hovered over the desk. ¡°That?¡± Nick asked. Inwardly, he was relieved. It seems this had nothing to do with his arguably questionable choice of using an Essence Forge to perform Nero¡¯s intake testing. He coughed into his hand to clear his throat. ¡°Well, yes. The young man¡¯s way of looking at the world is interesting, but it isn¡¯t a danger to society. Every day he lives his life, those preconceptions are being rewritten. In a mere 10 years, those impressions of his previous life will all be gone. I¡¯m not sure I understand what it is you are asking?¡± Nick said with a hint of confusion. The commander had a thoughtful look on his face. He looked over to his left and said, ¡°Captain Angelton, perhaps you can recount to Mr. Salvatore what you told us when you requested this emergency meeting.¡± All eyes in the room turned to the Captain in question. Nick thought, ¡®An emergency command council meeting? What the hell is going on?¡¯ Captain Angelton stood up, looking every inch the stoic warrior he was. He stood at parade rest and spoke clearly and loudly, ¡°When I first met the boy, he was the lone survivor from a merchant caravan that had been raided. When I discovered that he had no memories of the actual attack, I dismissed him as an information resource, due to the fact that he did not have an eye-witness account of the attack. However, upon returning to the city, as I took him through the streets to drop him of at the Center for evaluation and registration, I noticed that he had a very odd way of seeing the city. He asked odd questions, and his head was on a swivel, taking in information from everything around him. Within just hours of awakening, he leveled right in front of me. He wasn¡¯t meditating, or having a moment of reflection. He seemed just as surprised as I was. When I asked him how he leveled, his response was very interesting. He said that ¡®He saw a lot of things that he could learn from¡¯, and then quoted the price of some maginopes that he noticed. Furthermore, he said ¡®You¡¯re not paying attention, there is NEVER nothing to experience.¡¯ That statement stuck with me. ¡°While I was reviewing what we found when we tracked down the Gurs who performed the raid on the merchant train, I realized we had too many questions. I didn¡¯t have any leads, but I had a feeling we were missing something. That¡¯s when the boy came to mind. I thought that maybe I just didn¡¯t ask him the right questions when we found him. Just because he didn¡¯t have any memories of the actual raid, he might have noticed something that I missed. He didn¡¯t know what information could be relevant, so it was my responsibility to find out what he knew. That line of thought led me to meet with the boy earlier today in order to hear a more detailed account of his first memories. ¡°Most of what he thought important or noteworthy was, as I thought, only interesting to him because he hadn¡¯t seen it before. However, he did make particular note of how the bodies were treated. From that he made some very astute deductions as to who the raiders were. Just by looking at the bodies, he came to the conclusion that the raiders were soldiers of some kind, and they were there for a purpose. Specifically they were looking for something. He then noted that among all the things taken, he was missing his link. From this he jumped to some ridiculous conclusions about the Islangurs using the stolen links to ¡®brainwash¡¯ people. I think he meant mind-wiping, but I didn¡¯t press it. The important thing was, it got me thinking about WHY they wanted the links. I told him my theory on how the links possibly registered a psychic contact that would be flagged when they joined the city hub. From that small piece of information, he made some very astute, and very worrying conclusions.¡± ¡°He speculated that the only people who would be worried about a contact being recorded somewhere they shouldn¡¯t be, would belong to a noble house. From there he made a rather convincing argument about how, in all likelihood, Dorchester has a traitor noble who is trying to take control of the city, and is currently amassing a hidden army of Gurs. Worried about the implications, I immediately requested an emergency meeting with command. Now, here we are,¡± Captain Angelton finished. During his entire speech his pitch never wavered, and his countenance didn¡¯t shift a hair. Nick was speechless. A traitor was ridiculous, and a hidden Islangur army on Oglivarch soil even more so. Where the hell did Nero get that idea? Nick rubbed his temples, trying to alleviate the oncoming headache. That boy, for all his interesting points, is a verifiable nightmare on the psyche. ¡°So you see why we called you. We need to know the likelihood that his conclusions have some basis in reality? We needed to bring in someone who studied how the boy¡¯s mind works to see if there is any worth to what he said,¡± The commandeer looked at Nick, apparently waiting for some sort of verdict. As Nick thought about how to word his response, he received a ping from the boy in question. The ping would have sat patiently in the Thought-hub, waiting for him to look at his messages, but the boy considered it important so the thought-hub listed it as ¡®urgent¡¯. As all of the commanders were currently looking at him, he sheepishly said, ¡°One moment please, I just received an urgent ping.¡± Reading the ping: ¡®Hey Nick, I leveled again last night. Lol. So I have another star available. I know you want to record me using them in your forge. Remember our deal. I get free room and board, a job where I don¡¯t have to do anything, and all the classes I want. You get to put me in the lights. Oh, by the way, you still owe me the magic stuff you promised me. It was your fault for telling your wife about the stars. I specifically didn¡¯t say anything about it:) I was very careful:p I¡¯ll be waiting to hear from you. - Nero¡¯ Nick tried not to show his confusion. Another level? Is the boy now level 5? How does he keep leveling, that was years of growth in two days! Looking at Nero¡¯s note again, he saw in plain language the deal the boy somehow got him and his wife to agree to. ¡®How the hell did that happen?¡¯ he wondered while reading the deal over and over again. Chapter 20 - The power of tropes is not to be underestimated Furrowing his brow in concentration, Nick went over every interaction he¡¯d had with Nero. Nick¡¯s mind was a powerful tool, and he focused the entirety of his energy into analyzing the past few days. Every step of the way, there was a logical progression. At no point did he feel he was tricked, or manipulated. Yet now, he was sitting in an army gate command center, while looking at a deal that gave Nero everything he wanted, while all Nick received was the ability to monitor Nero¡¯s star usage. Star usage was already a comprehensively studied field. Aside from being able to publish his finding concerning Nero¡¯s, admittedly interesting, feat of using 3 stars in succession, Nick had to admit to himself that he had made a really bad deal. The commanders were looking at each other in concern. The man sitting next to Nick asked quietly, ¡°Is everything alright Mr. Salvatore? Is there an emergency that needs your attention?¡± Nick looked up, his face showing confusion. ¡°Huh?¡± he said. Looking around he realized everyone in the room was staring at him. Visibly marshaling his features, he resumed his professional demeanor. ¡°Everything is fine. Nothing to be concerned about. One more moment please,¡± he said. Nick decided that Nero was more clever than he thought. Perhaps all the idiotic blathering overshadowed a deeply devious mind. In the future, he would have to be on his guard. Taking the opportunity, Nick sent a quick ping to Vera explaining that he was fine, and informed her of the purpose of the meeting. He also told her to be wary of Nero, the boy was smarter than they had assumed. Now composed, he was ready to return to the meeting. Smoothing his robes, Nick addressed the room, ¡°Concerning Mr. Walker. The young man is a very interesting contradiction. The Captain is correct in his estimation. While seemingly an idiot, Mr. Walker does tend to view things from a profoundly unique perspective. At the moment, I don¡¯t follow the line of logic that leads from missing links to an impending invasion, but I¡¯d prefer to hear what the boy said in detail. Do you have the memory of the conversation available?¡± he asked. ¡°Yes, I took the opportunity while this meeting was gathering to prepare a mind print of the conversation in question,¡± Captain Angelton said. He then waved his hand to bring up a hologram showing Nero sitting at table, slouching, and with his robes incorrectly tied. ¡®He really does look like an idiot,¡¯ Nick thought. As the conversation played from the beginning, everyone leaned forward and paid close attention to what was being said. The entire projection was from the perspective of the captain. So it was easy to see when something caught his attention, as the projection would snap to Nero whenever the boy said something inflammatory. The meeting room was quiet, with some occasional blinking on the temples of the commanders, as they would comment to each other concerning some particular point. When Nero started talking about using the links to ¡®implant thoughts into the populous¡¯, the entire room started chuckling. As Nero¡¯s theories spiraled into the truly ridiculous, Nick¡¯s head fell into his hands, and he thought, ¡®How can such a clever boy be such a gods be damned idiot.¡¯ When they heard Captain Angelton¡¯s theory, they all nodded, as that was much more likely. It could be the reason the Gurs bothered to raid a merchant train. It wasn¡¯t definitive, but it was much more reasonable than any of Nero¡¯s ideas. Nero¡¯s quick response caused them all to freeze in their chairs. As they heard the captain demand how Nero came to such a conclusion. They all watched in anticipation. The hologram projected Nero¡¯s uncomfortable smile. The Captain¡¯s scrutiny seemingly causing Nero to wilt in his chair. The boy¡¯s quiet voice rippled out through the room, ¡°Um¡­ it¡¯s always some rich asshole. And the only reason a traitor would care if he was discovered was if he were someone important. You said the Icelanders shouldn¡¯t be here, so someone had to help them get here. Also, what¡¯s the point of sneaking in one raiding band. No one would pay for that, they¡¯d pay to get an army. And the only people that fit all the plot-points are rich noble douche-bags. Why do people with power and money do anything¡­ well, for more power and money. What¡¯s going up for a noble? Killing the nobles above them and getting a promotion.¡± Nero finished quietly. ¡°Um¡­ not that I condone that type of behavior or anything like that¡­ um¡­ sir.¡± The commanders all leaned back in their chairs. One pointed out, ¡°That would explain how the mages were unable to scry for the band that we found.¡± Another said, ¡°It is conceivable that a local portal mage was able to get through the wards, if he were already familiar with them.¡± Suddenly, a loud gruff voice silenced the room. ¡°Quiet! I want to see the rest,¡± the general said with his hands folded in front of his face. When Nero was asked about the game, he raised his eyebrows at Nero¡¯s response. As the general watched Captain Angelton offer the boy training at the Gate 7 compound, he nodded along with the decision. Soon, the recording ended, and the hologram returned to Nero¡¯s intake file. ¡°That was good thinking captain. Going back to re-interview the boy was smart. You noticed how he is intuitive, but doesn¡¯t have the necessary information to make an educated deduction. That¡¯s command level thinking right there,¡± General Branson said. The general leaned back in his chair, seemingly in thought. The whole room patiently waited to see if he was done talking. Just as Commander Graves was about to speak, the general looked at Nick and said, ¡°You¡¯re probably the smartest man in this room. What would you say about what you just saw?¡± Nick¡¯s face had an ashen tint. ¡°In short? I¡¯m worried. Granted nothing of what Nero fears they¡¯ll use the links for is possible, at least I don¡¯t think it¡¯s possible. That being said, he makes a compelling argument for a noble traitor and an impending invasion. Did you really want my opinion on a military matter?¡± The general replied, ¡°You¡¯re here. You¡¯re smart. I¡¯m not going to ignore a powerful mind because he¡¯s a scientist. I want you to take a minute, and think it through. Our analysts have nothing but questions, and I want answers,¡± he finished with a growl. ¡°Very well. Forgive me, but I think better standing up,¡± Nick said as he stood up from the table and started pacing. He put his right hand to his chin, and his left behind his back as he walked along the side of the table. ¡°Starting with the facts we KNOW are true. A raiding party attacked a merchant caravan using Islangur weapons. They efficiently killed everyone, and then took their supplies, money, and links. An Islangur war band should not be this far north. It is hundreds of miles to the front, and there have been no reports of activity hinting of their travels?¡± He paused and looked around the room. ¡°No, they appeared out of nowhere,¡± someone said. Nick nodded, and resumed his pacing. ¡°That¡¯s it for incontrovertible facts. Not much to work with. What was found when the band was apprehended? What facts were obtained from the prisoners? Any documentation or material of interest?¡± Nick looked around, but kept pacing slowly. This story originates from a different website. Ensure the author gets the support they deserve by reading it there. Captain Angleton spoke up, ¡°Nothing was found. There were around 100 men, and every one of them either died or detonated their center to avoid capture. All of the stolen supplies were recovered. However, the stolen links were all destroyed. At the time I thought it was so they couldn¡¯t be tracked. There were no powerful mages, and the fight was relatively easy. Nothing of note was recovered. The victory was hollow.¡± Nick nodded, as he paced and assimilated the information. ¡°So facts and questions. They didn¡¯t have a powerful mage. So how did they get there? The only thing they did with the supplies was destroying the links. Why? They made sure to leave no survivors. What were they worried about us finding out?¡± Nick kept pacing and thinking. The room was silent as everyone tried to work through the problem. Captain Angelton said, ¡°That¡¯s why I felt I didn¡¯t have enough information. I figured that when you hit a difficulty in your path, the best thing to do is back up until the road was clear and see where you went wrong. The first thing that I encountered during this investigation was the boy, and I hoped he had something I missed.¡± ¡°Hmmm,¡± Nick muttered. ¡°OK. My conclusion based on the facts at hand.¡± He stopped pacing and stood behind his chair. Placing his hands on the backrest, he looked at the general and began. ¡°I would say that you have someone teleporting Islangur troops into the area, or at the very least a well funded army masquerading as Islangur troops. That someone must be either part of a group, or capable on their own of shielding a significant area from scrying. It is conceivable that they are being supported by an individual of enough importance that the Thought-hub tracks their location for their safety. Most people of significant office are actively tracked so that immediate help can be teleported on site, in case of emergency. So, if one of the links from the caravan had reported contact with said person, then a flag would be sent to control and an investigation would have started. Without any other recourse, a small portion of the troops was sacrificed to eliminate any evidence and preserve the fiction that the raid was simply one of opportunity. Since the raiding party was not insignificant, it follows that the main force is not small. With all that being taken into account, the only people in Dorchester who would have the resources to do this would, in fact, belong to a powerful noble house. Mr. Walker made a solid argument.¡± Everyone sat in silence, contemplating the repercussions of what they just heard. The general broke the silence, ¡°Although nothing is confirmed, I¡¯ve heard enough. This is a viable threat to the safety of the city. Upon returning to central command, I will be issuing orders for a quiet increase in our cities defenses. We¡¯ll use the cover of a beast tide preparedness drill.¡± He pointed at the people on Nick¡¯s side of the table. ¡°Everything we discussed here is NOT to be spoken of by any of you. Understood?¡± he demanded. ¡°Yes Sir,¡± Everyone but Nick said. Nick merely nodded. The General stood up, and everyone in the room followed suit. With steel in his voice, he said, ¡°Alright men, we have a rat to find. I don¡¯t want him getting spooked, so we need to keep this quiet. I also want to find out who is impeding our mages. Hiding an army is not easy, I want to know how they¡¯re doing it.¡± Nick interjected, ¡°I¡¯d recommend looking for a large warded area that is isolated and outside the city walls. There is no way to portal unknowns within the city walls, at least not without throwing up flags they couldn¡¯t handle. And hiding that many people would take a great deal of essence. A large scale ward is the only logical solution. Perhaps an isolated, large, noble estate?¡± The General nodded. ¡°Good point,¡± he said. He looked over to a particular commander and said, ¡°Look into that. Let¡¯s get started.¡± He then started walking out of the room with everyone on his side of the table hurrying to collect their papers and effects. The General then stopped at the door and turned around. ¡°Captain Angelton. I want you to follow through with that kid¡¯s training. Even if he isn¡¯t joining the military, Oglivarch could use someone like him. Work with whoever his advisor is at the Center and see if you can reach a consensus on how to best help him with his path. With minimal information, he got to where we are in seconds. I want that talent nurtured. Understood?¡± Captain Angelton stood up, slammed his fist to his chest, and said, ¡°Understood Sir.¡± The general lazily returned the salute then turned back to the exit. One of the aides held the door for him as his retinue all left. The remaining people in the room all collected their things. As everyone stepped away from the table, the holograms in the room went out, and the lights raised to a pleasant level. The wood room returned to a beautiful, medieval meeting hall. Nick made sure to catch the captain¡¯s eye and imply that they needed to talk; the captain nodded in understanding, while giving Nick a look of confusion. The other meeting attendees left one after another to get to whatever duties they put off so they could attend the emergency session. As the only two people left in the room, Captain Angelton stood patiently and waited for Nick to speak. Nick walked up, while trying to choose his words carefully. ¡°Captain. I have been working with Mr. Walker since he was delivered to the Center. He will be one of my lab-assistants under a work-associate placement. I have been preparing a specialized syllabus for him to follow to make the most of his¡­ unique¡­ mind. As he hasn¡¯t technically joined the center as of yet, he hasn¡¯t been assigned an advisor. In the meantime, I¡¯ll be happy to have one of my assistants contact you about what training options you¡¯d like to offer young Nero,¡± Nick said with a congenial smile. The Captain was much taller than Nick, not to mention a great deal wider, so his physical presence seemed to dwarf the scientist. Even so, Nick was not intimidated and spoke to him as if the captain were a young man that Nick was interested in helping out. Unfortunately for Nick, The Captain was actually not much younger than Nick. He was not a simple meathead, and didn¡¯t fall for the artificial tone, or Nick¡¯s soothing psychic presence. ¡°Mr. Salvatore, My curiosity was piqued when I read the intake form for ¡®young Nero¡¯. Imagine how I felt when I saw that the freshly awakened young man I dropped off at the center had an intake form signed by the director of Gate 7 research,¡± Captain Angelton said, and then smiled and crossed his arms. ¡°I was preoccupied with the Gur raiders, and wasn¡¯t paying attention when I first met the boy. Now I¡¯m paying attention. So I¡¯ll ask you if you can explain why you were the one to do his intake testing? Is he perhaps special in some way? Come to think of it, how is it that a boy with no memories is qualified to be a lab assistant for the head of research?¡± The Captain asked. Nick¡¯s smile broke, and he gave a heavy sigh. Offering the captain a wry grin, he asked, ¡°Do you have any dinner plans?¡± Confused at the sudden change of subject, the captain replied, ¡°Nothing I can¡¯t move, why?¡± Nick chuckled and turned toward the door. ¡°Come along, I think you better meet my wife. I¡¯ll walk you through how I came to know Mr. Walker. You¡¯ll also learn that he is a swindler and opportunist. Maybe you can get a better deal than I did when it¡¯s your turn,¡± he said with a jovial tone. The Captain followed him out the door, still confused. As they walked and talked, Nick was recounting his interactions with Nero. The captain was shocked when he heard what Nick agreed to do for Nero in order to be able to use his data (without getting into the details of what that data actually was). Nick paused in his steps as he got another urgent ping. ¡®Hey Nick, Did you know that your Essence Forge could have killed me?!? You owe me. I filled out the paperwork for the job. It¡¯s official, I¡¯m employed. So what do you want me to do with my star? Also I need you to show me how to ¡®focus a stream¡¯. I was learning a gust spell for sweeping the floor and the end table in my room broke. The station said that it will just charge the room for the replacement, so you¡¯ll be getting a bill for that. I listed you as both my advisor and my emergency contact. You weren¡¯t on the list for the available advisors, but it let me write you in. Also under the account information section, I just used you as my point of contact, then left the rest blank. I need you to set up an account for me, and do I get paid for being your lab assistant, or is it just the room and board, along with the other stuff? What am I saying, of course I¡¯m getting paid. Anyway, I think that¡¯s it. I¡¯m eating right now, but I¡¯ll ping you tomorrow if I don¡¯t see a ping in my inbox when I wake up. Oh, Mrs. Salvatore was worried about you getting arrested. I can¡¯t help with bail money but let me know if you need anything. What did you do to get arrested? You should be more careful, Mrs. Salvatore is going to be pissed if she has to keep bailing you out of trouble. Anyway, good luck, ttyl. - Nero¡¯ Nick stood in the middle of the hallway surrounded by military personnel going about their day. Captain Angelton had also stopped to see what had Nick so agitated. ¡°Are you alright Mr. Salvatore?¡± asked the captain. ¡°I¡¯m fine. I¡¯m just looking forward to what you¡¯ll have to promise Nero to get him into one of your combat classes,¡± Nick said. He then resumed walking, while he forwarded Nero¡¯s ping to Vera. He figured she¡¯d get a kick out of it. Chapter 21 - Customs are the true social lubricant. At 8:30 in the morning, Nero woke up to the wonderful sound of a working alarm. The night before, he had spent 30 minutes programming 3 alarms to hit one after another with a 1 second delay between them. The result was a delightful tune; one which was entirely NOT a waste of time. Greeting the new day with a smile, he stretched his arms over his head in victory. Stepping over the robes he had discarded the night before, Nero walked past his desk, which was littered with notes on magic and questions he wanted answered. While collecting his last clean robe from the cabinet, he noticed the new end table, that was delivered the night before, was still sitting by the door. Giving his backside a scratch, he went into the bathroom for his morning ritual. Only 20 minutes later, he was dressed and ready for the day. Shoving his dirty clothes into the provided laundry bag, he thought to himself, ¡®I need to get more clothes, this is my last clean robe. I¡¯m sure as hell not going to wear the starter commoner gear I woke up with.'' After grabbing his link, Nero threw his satchel filled with study materials over his shoulder, and left for the dining room. The hallways were relatively empty, apparently everyone started their day a little earlier than Nero. On the way to the cafeteria, Nero dropped his laundry bag through the laundry-shoot in the hall. The information in the link said that it would be returned to his room within 2 days. Resuming his walk, he idly wondered if he will return to see it sitting on his bed and folded like a laundry service in the movies. So far, he¡¯d been having a productive morning. Nero enjoyed the fact that this world had 30 hours in a day. Considering that he liked to sleep, he figured that he could get a good 10 hours of shut-eye, and still be up at 8:30. After a quick shower, he¡¯d be at work by 10, even with a coffee and a danish on the way, all while not having to rush. Making his way through the illustrious halls of the Center, Nero exchanged polite nods with the few people he passed along the way. ¡®Walking everywhere will be good for me,¡¯ he thought to himself. With a smile on his face and a pep in his step, Nero made it through the lobby, hoping to avoid the hawk. Luckily, she wasn¡¯t there, and the coast was clear. Heading into the dining hall, he wondered where everyone was. There were some people scattered throughout the very large room, but this was the emptiest he had ever seen it. Nero was unaware that most people were already in classes for the day. Shrugging, he decided he didn¡¯t care what everyone was up to. Blissfully ignoring the things he didn¡¯t want to think about, he went to get some coffee and a full breakfast. Nero had no reason to settle for a pastry, as he had nowhere to be. Seated and happy, Nero connected to his link (which he thought of as this world¡¯s phone-equivalent) to check his messages. The feeling of looking at his phone while eating his breakfast was glorious. Checking the pings that were waiting for him was easy. Unfortunately, It seemed he had accidentally ignored a few requests for his presence. Mrs. Salvatore had pinged him earlier in the morning. She wanted Nero to meet her at 7 in her office. Apparently, the meeting was going to be about a different, LATER meeting that she was going to have with Nick, Ms. Averett, and Captain Angelton. It seemed that Nero was supposed to attend that meeting too. Since the meeting about the meeting was confusing, he put it in the pile of ¡®things to deal with later¡¯. Labeling the message read, he moved on to the other pings which were waiting for his attention. Mrs. Salvatore had written another ping, this one had more information about the meeting scheduled for 8 which was the meeting the first ping had warned him about. There were other pings from each of the meeting attendees about various things, but he barely glanced at them, and just marked them as ¡®read¡¯. The situation was getting out of hand. Nero finished his breakfast, his smile now gone. With a sour look on his face, as his morning was ruined, he decided it was best to just go deal with the source of his frustration. After turning in his dishes at the cleaning station, Nero headed off toward Mrs. Salvatore¡¯s office. He thought it best to start with her, as she was the first ping sender of the day, and also the one who could probably fix all the other issues that were brought up in the very official looking m-mails. ¡®I need to remember to start calling them pings,¡¯ he reminded himself. Using his link to navigate the hallways to Mrs. Salvatore¡¯s office was no problem, and he soon found himself standing awkwardly at her door. He pinged it, and waited for the feeling of welcome. Tapping his foot and humming to himself, Nero internally congratulated himself on his patience. Instead of the feeling of welcome he was expecting, he received a connection request from Mrs. Salvatore. Mentally opening the connection, he was about to say ¡®hello¡¯, when a disgruntled Mrs. Salvatore beat him to the punch. ¡°So you¡¯re up. Why didn¡¯t you pick up the pings this morning, or at very least, read the pings I left?¡± she asked, without preamble. This text was taken from Royal Road. Help the author by reading the original version there. ¡°Um¡­ I always turn my link on ¡®do not disturb¡¯ before going to sleep. It was real easy, I just had to think about making myself unavailable and the option came up. What time do people normally get up here?¡± he asked. Over the link, Nero could feel it when she sighed. ¡°Just stay at my office, I¡¯m on my way,¡± she said and then ended the connection. Nero looked up and down the hallway. There were nice little wooden benches and little pedestals with artistic pots and other useless crap. Although, he thought some of the paintings were nice. The artistically carved wooden edge-work along the ceiling and floor wasn''t bad either. Nero walked over to one of the padded wooden benches, it was about 6 feet long and looked extremely sturdy. Bending over, he picked up one end to check its weight; it was pretty heavy. Setting it back down, he tried to ignore the looks that people were giving him as they passed by. Deciding that he should be more productive, he pulled out a book and sat down. A few minutes later, while Nero was reviewing how to construct the spell form for pulling water out of the air, he felt Mrs. Salvatore¡¯s gaze. Looking up, he saw that she was still at least 20ft away. He furrowed his brow in confusion. ¡®That is weird,¡¯ he thought. It appeared that he was getting really good at recognizing people by their psychic fields. Mrs. Salvatore walked past Nero while giving him a crisp nod that he charitably labeled as a greeting. Without breaking stride, she opened her office door with a wave of her hand, and walked right in. Nero packed up his book and followed. ¡°Sorry about missing the meetings that no one told me about,¡± Nero said, preemptively fending off the anticipated verbal assault. Mrs. Salvatore offered a ''sniff'' in displeasure, then sat behind her desk and summoned some paperwork out of thin air. ¡°Generally, people wake up around 5 or 6. They go to sleep around 29 or 30. Only children sleep more than 5 or 6 hours a day. Are you a child Mr. Walker?¡± she said. Not liking the tone, and fully intending to not fall into this dynamic with her, Nero sat down and crossed his legs. ¡°Yes, I am. As a matter of fact, I¡¯m 4 days old. If there is something I don¡¯t know, it¡¯s the fault of those who have been entrusted with my education." Before she could respond, Nero changed the subject. "By the way, was there any problem with the paperwork I filed last night? I should now be a worker-associate of the Center, right?¡± Nero asked with a smirk. Normally people were intimidated by her management voice, but Nero seemed immune. She sighed, and Nero could see the defeat in her eyes. As a result, his smirk only grew wider. They just sat there staring at each other for a good ten seconds. ¡°Fine Mr. Walker. Can we move on please?¡± she asked. Breaking eye contact, she stood up to get herself a cup of coffee from a tray with a pitcher and several mugs. Turning, she offered a questioning look to Nero to see if he wanted one. Receiving a nod, she poured him one as well. After handing him his mug, she then returned to her seat. ¡°Your paperwork was all filed. Apparently, the Center¡¯s hub didn¡¯t see anything odd about you choosing Nick as your advisor; probably due to the fact that paperwork was already filed for you to be assigned as his lab technician. Because of that, Nick was able to look up your whereabouts this morning through the link. When we realized that you weren¡¯t missing, and were just still sleeping in your room, we did what we could without you. Of particular note was Ms. Averett¡¯s attendance. Last night, she contacted Captain Angelton after finding out that he had spoken with you yesterday. I don¡¯t know how she knew, but she inserted herself into the discussion concerning your class options. She spent a good deal of this morning¡¯s meeting ensuring that you will be properly trained in combat. Nicholas was of the opinion that you would only take basic classes in order to keep in shape, while focusing your time on combat classes exclusively for mage-training,¡± she said. Sighing deeply, she continued, ¡°As your advisor, Nicholas should be dealing with all of this. However, as he has never BEEN an advisor, and to be honest, technically neither have I, we had intended you to be included throughout the decision making process. Alas, that plan failed miserably. It is now almost 10:30, and nothing has been finalized.¡± By the time she had finished speaking, Mrs. Salvatore had started to glare at Nero as if it were all his fault. Nero knew he better interrupt her before she built up a new head of steam. Speaking quickly, he said, ¡°Well, I was up late last night studying. You know, really hitting the books. Then this morning I had a really good, healthy breakfast, and then came straight to you when I realized you wanted to see me.¡± She snorted, as if Nero had made a joke. ¡°Right. Well, now you can go deal with Nicholas. I won¡¯t be seeing you much, as I have actual work to do. He will act as both your employer and your advisor, so from now on you will be his responsibility. I don¡¯t entirely approve of the deal you have with him, but it is not my place to interfere with your path.¡± She then stood up and gave a slight bow. Mrs. Salvatore then implied an end to the conversation by saying, ¡°I truly hope your path remains wide and clear Mr. Walker.¡± Recognizing the goodbye for what it was, Nero stood up. The entire situation felt so awkward that he had to ask, ¡°So is that how people say goodbye? I¡¯ve heard it a few times. I mean that whole ¡®path remains wide and clear¡¯ thing means ''goodbye'' right?¡± Mrs. Salvatore looked a little startled, she hadn''t been expecting a reply. Taking a second to formulate a response, she said, ¡°Well typically, if people are going to be seeing each other soon, they just exit the conversation at a logical conclusion point. But right now, since we have a likely prolonged separation, the phrase of wishing someone¡¯s ¡®path to remain wide and clear¡¯ is appropriate. It is a polite way to end an interaction on a professional level, as like with a teller, or a merchant. You don¡¯t really say it in a personal interaction. The phrase ¡®good bye¡¯ while clear in it¡¯s meaning, doesn¡¯t really MEAN anything.¡± Nero felt a little bad. ¡°I know this may sound odd, but you¡¯re one of the few people I know. I don¡¯t want our only relationship to be purely professional. Don¡¯t you have a saying for friends or something. Maybe like, ¡®see you later¡¯?¡± Vera¡¯s eyes softened a little as she smiled, ¡°There really isn¡¯t one. But now that you mention it, I¡¯d consider you at least an acquaintance. How about we see if we still know each other in a few years, and we can work up to friends.¡± Nero realized that people just took a really long view of personal interactions here. Lifespans being what they were, people required a lot of history to be considered a friend. ¡°Oh, well, even if I¡¯m not your friend, I consider you mine. Our interactions have been professional, but I know in my heart that you are looking out for me. I trust you, and I hope we''ll see each other around. Have a great day¡­ I mean, may your path be wide and clear,¡± he said. After he stumbled through his goodbye, Nero tossed her a wave, and then made sure to close the door on his way out. Standing in the hallway, looking at the door, he thought about how old she must be. She¡¯d been married 50 years. She could easily be over a hundred years old, and Nero wouldn¡¯t know. To Nero, she looked, at most, 35. With a frown, Nero couldn¡¯t help but think to himself, ¡®If people live these crazy long lives¡­ then how the hell do they think a 14 year old is an adult? Aren¡¯t years only 300 days here? If I had a calculator, I could figure out what that would be back home. Regardless, that is way too young.¡¯ Shaking his head at the local customs, Nero checked that he had everything he came with. Tightening the strap on his satchel, he walked off. Chapter 22 - Cultural ignorance can be adorable The general sat at his desk, glaring angrily at the report. The silence of the room was occasionally shattered by the sound of his flipping a page. The three men on the other side of his desk waited patiently for him to finish reading. Sunlight was coming in through slits on the walls near the ceiling, giving the room the feeling of a bunker. The room was filled with trophies and memorabilia that were meant for one thing: to instill visitors with fear of the man who sat behind the desk. Intimidation was part and parcel with the position he had held for the last 60 years. The three men could tell that General Branson didn¡¯t like the results of last night. The army was too loud with their investigation. ¡®At least there were some results,¡¯ he thought. Page after page, he read the report on the mage¡¯s interrogation. Sitting in his large chair, his brows furrowed at both the confirmation that something was rotten in Dorchester, and the lack of information as to what that rotten thing was. After long minutes, he set down the report, leaned back in his chair and released a huff. ¡°We know that the man was falsifying scrying reports from outside the walls. We don¡¯t have a client list, or any idea of what it was he was hiding. How long until we have a complete review of his last six months?¡± asked the general. ¡°4 hours at the earliest. But he¡¯s been linked to several major houses, not to mention shipping concerns, who knows what we¡¯ll find.¡± One of the men said. Tapping his finger on the desk, the general said, ¡°There is mention of a logician who was the mages point of contact. What do we know about him?¡± Receiving only silence in response, he slammed a fist onto his heavy wooden desk. ¡°I have a meeting with Lord Cosgrave in 2 hours. That is the earliest I can get her alone. I want something to tell her that amounts to more than, ¡®we think there might be a threat¡¯,¡± General Branson growled. ¡°We do know some things. Someone has been shipping things south that they want to keep quiet. Either they or someone else moved that raiding party from a region near the city. Both of those facts have evidence. In a way, the fact that we DON¡¯T know more should be concerning,¡± another man said. ¡°As for the investigation of the Nobles, it¡¯s difficult to find any actionable intelligence without making them aware that we are looking. We don¡¯t want to set them off early if they ARE in fact up to something,¡± the third man said, trying to point out the difficulty of his assignment. The General nodded. ¡°That¡¯s a good point. I want us to continue the readiness drills and get me a private meeting with Head Guard Dalton. Nobles are always up to something, so finding out that they are plotting something means nothing. The evidence suggests a force of arms, though. That can not be ignored. Whether Lord Cosgrave agrees with our conclusions or not, she should be made aware of what¡¯s going on. And for God¡¯s sakes, try to keep this quiet!¡± he roared. ----- While Nero was walking towards Nick¡¯s lab, he was taking his time. Leisurely passing through the lightly populated hallways, he noticed that very few people were moving with purpose. Most were just going about their day, each one politely smiling and nodding to each other. The wide hallways were sporadically filled with fancy paintings, pieces of art, and comfortable benches. Nero really LOOKED around as he made his way through the Center. The elevators were filled with nice carpet and they even had carved molding tastefully decorating the bulbous light globes. Everything seemed so professionally ¡®well done¡¯ and placed with care. Nero could imagine the guy who had dedicated his entire life and his personal growth to the study of carving; being the best wood carver he could be. All of the effort leading to him being able to carve that little flower on the crown molding. How many people here have a friend for life? Can someone even have friends, when they spend all their time being in search of their ¡®best self¡¯? It worried Nero. If every interaction was just an opportunity for a person to grow, was there no one in this world who focused on the path of drinking whiskey and stealing street signs? Did words like ¡®friend¡¯ and ¡®love¡¯ mean the same thing here that they did back home. How was the translation being done. Is it just the closest approximation? Eventually, his internal musings were interrupted by the outside world. The doors opened to the 5th floor of the Center for Research. Nero walked up to the desk and saw someone he recognized. ¡°Hey Bill,¡± he said. ¡°I¡¯m sorry, but my name is Brian. You¡¯re the young man that will be starting as Mr. Salvatore¡¯s lab assistant, correct?¡± the now correctly named Brian said with a polite and welcoming tone. With a blank face, not really in the mood to deal with the polite direction this conversation was going, Nero said, ¡°Yup. That¡¯s me. Where¡¯s Nick?¡± Not losing his smile, Brian replied, ¡°He¡¯s in his office. Just head down that hall, you should be able to track him down through the link. You¡¯re now part of the research-hub.¡± Nero¡¯s hands shook as he suffered a full body shiver. While walking away, he could practically hear the Center¡¯s associates chanting ¡®one of us¡­ one of us¡­ one of us¡¯ with their polite, yet creepy voices. His mood getting worse with every step. Nero wondered if he was just projecting the sinister undertones into the world around him. When he finally got to Nick''s lab, he pinged it. Standing there, with his arms folded and a scowl on his face, he mentally replayed all the horribleness and offensive courtesy that was core to this disgusting cesspool of kindness and understanding. Receiving the feeling of ¡®welcome¡¯ which indicated that he should enter; he lost it. Barging into the room, he projected in loud tone of voice that came out like a hammer on glass, ¡°What the hell is wrong with this world. Everyone here is so polite and considerate. Don¡¯t people bond. How can you find your best friend, or a group, or clique you want to hang out with if you don¡¯t share a common hatred.¡± Nero paused as an idea popped in his head. ¡°The Icelanders¡­ we hate them right? What is it we hate about them?¡± Nick was sitting at his desk with his mouth open and eyes widened in surprise. There were two younger looking individuals sitting across from him with note pads and pens in their hands. They were both half turned toward him, while leaning away from Nero¡¯s very loud entrance. Each had an expression of confusion and terror on their face. They looked like horrified bookends, with Nick¡¯s confusion in the middle. The image was priceless. And like fog in the morning sun, Nero¡¯s bad mood evaporated. He noticed that even the holograms on the desk had paused their scrolling. ¡°Um¡­ sorry to interrupt the meeting. I was told to see Nick. I¡¯m Nero, it¡¯s nice to meet you both.¡± Nero tried to backpedal into polite conversation, but failed miserably. As he had involuntarily stepped forward to offer a handshake in greeting, he had to lower his hand, and take a step back. ¡°Well, this is awkward. I¡¯ll just sit over here. You guys do your thing, and I¡¯ll just wait for you to finish.¡± Nero said, then walked over to a couch on the wall that had a small, convenient, coffee table. Right when he was about to sit down, he heard Nick say, ¡°Well that is the young man we were just speaking about. Please ignore him for now. You can clearly see that he is just as interesting as I said he was.¡± Nick turned his head to focus on the young woman on his right. ¡°Now Kendra, not much will change for you. You might have some additional paperwork that will need to be done in relation to filing Nero¡¯s test results and such. Also, you¡¯ll be in charge of smoothing out any ruffled feathers in the department. Try to make sure Judy doesn¡¯t go on a rampage again. It¡¯s not the end of the world if we don¡¯t actually use a lab that we scheduled. It wastes nothing¡­ never mind, ignore that last bit. Stop writing that down. You¡¯re not funny¡± Nick said as he noticed Kendra was writing down everything he had been saying. Nero noticed that they were doing exactly as he asked. They were ignoring him and had resumed their little meeting. A meeting which was apparently about him. From the angle he was sitting, Nero could only see the back of Kendra¡¯s head, but he could see the other lab assistant patiently waiting for his turn to hear his responsibilities with a small smile on his face. You might be reading a pirated copy. Look for the official release to support the author. ¡®These fucking people are courtesy robots, sent back in time to pacify the weak willed.¡¯ Nero thought with a sneer on his face. ¡°Moving on.¡± Nick continued while addressing to the young man on his left, ¡°David, I¡¯m afraid I¡¯ll be relying on you a little more than usual for the data collection at the essence monitor sites. I know you¡¯ve been splitting that with Kendra, but for now, you¡¯ll be doing it on your own. You know what to do, I trust that you¡¯ll handle it fine. And you did a wonderful job on the syllabus I asked you for. In the future, I¡¯d appreciate you not sending messages to Vera with the purpose of causing me grief, I know you do it on purpose.¡± He glanced at Kendra, whose shoulders were shaking with mirth as she held in a chuckle. Returning his gaze to David, ¡°You are also not funny.¡± Nick then stood up and walked around the desk, idly waving away the floating holograms, several of them closing as he did so. Gesturing toward Nero, he said, ¡°Now I¡¯d like you both to meet Nero Walker. He is a newly awakened young man with a very interesting background. I¡¯ve already briefed you on his circumstances, so let¡¯s just have you introduce yourselves.¡± Nick moved to stand in front of the coffee table opposite the couch where Nero sat. He was soon joined by his two lab assistants. They both stood there and gave a shallow bow. Before they said anything, Nero stood up. ¡°I still don¡¯t understand the social protocol of what I¡¯m supposed to do in this situation. Am I supposed to bow back to you, or nod, or something?¡± asked Nero. Kendra and David exchanged an amused expression. Kendra spoke first. ¡°What feels natural to you?¡± she inquired, apparently genuinely interested. Hearing the question, Nick seemed to come to attention. Interjecting himself, he said, ¡°That¡¯s a really good point. He might have some kind of ingrained response left over from his previous imprint. Like a gut instinct. Very well done Kendra.¡± David also nodded in appreciation. Nero¡¯s eyes fell, ¡°So my time as a lab-rat starts now then, huh?¡± he said rhetorically. Kendra¡¯s face lost its smile. She looked like Nero had killed her cat. David looked like he had been caught enjoying a dog fight. While Nick just looked tired. ¡°Nero, they don¡¯t know you. Can you not pick on them for at least a few hours? They think you''re serious. While I can tell that you are just being a little shit, they can¡¯t read you at all. Your psychic field is so chaotic that it¡¯s very difficult for people who aren¡¯t highly skilled in mind arts to read your emotions. Kendra will take your words at face value, and David can only tell that you feel ¡®something¡¯. So just please answer the question, I¡¯m interested in the answer myself,¡± said Nick. Nero could tell that Kendra enjoyed the joke once she realized Nero was just kidding, however David was a serious person like Mrs. S. ¡®He¡¯s going to be fun to mess with,¡¯ Nero thought. Figuring that there was no harm playing off his instincts from Earth as ¡®residual thought patterns¡¯ or whatever, Nero said, ¡°When I meet someone, I have an urge to hold out my hand in greeting. I also get the feeling that they should as well, and when they don¡¯t, I feel insulted.¡± Nick¡¯s eyes lit up. ¡°Interesting. Show me! Just do what feels natural, I¡¯ll mimic you.¡± he said and backed up a little into the center of the room so Nero could walk up to him. David and Kendra stepped off to the side to watch, interest clear in their eyes. ¡®These people really are just science geeks. ¡®Come see my totally foreign space-greeting!¡¯¡­ should I do the Vulcan hand-thing? Or maybe Wakanda forever? Nah,¡¯ Nero thought as he stepped around the coffee table to offer a handshake to Nick. As he raised his hand, Nick¡¯s face had a look of concentration. When Nero gave it a firm shake, Nick¡¯s eyebrows shot up. Nero then let his hand drop to the side. ¡°That¡¯s what I feel like doing whenever I meet someone.¡± He said. Kendra sounded like she wanted to clap. ¡°That¡¯s fascinating. I wonder why they would do that. The social ritual has to come from something,¡± she said. ¡°It could be anything. There is not enough data available. The gesture is too simple to extrapolate any purpose.¡± David said, while nodding in interest. Nick was off to the side doing handshakes into the air. His face was a mask of pure focus. Maybe he was trying to divine the purpose through repetition. Nero¡¯s good mood had been rekindled. He thought to himself, ¡®How can I stay mad at these simple creatures. They just don¡¯t know any better.¡¯ Addressing the room, Nero said, ¡°There is never ¡®too little data¡¯. You just lack imagination. I have no idea why I feel like doing it, but I could guess.¡± That statement evidently caught Nick¡¯s attention, so he stopped his ridiculous handshake testing. Walking over, he stood next to David and Kendra. Leaning over he whispered to them, ¡°This will be good. Pay close attention, and try to follow how his mind works.¡± Nero smirked and shook his head. ¡°Fine,¡± he said. He started pacing and let his mind wander. ¡°It could be that normally two people usually carry something in their hands that they tap with each other. No, that would screw up the gripping part¡­. It could be that they want to prove that their hands are empty, like a demonstration of not having a weapon. Or maybe the gesture originates from a world where there are creatures that look like people, but are cold blooded. So you must prove that your hands are warm or face a battle to the death. Maybe the species that I was part of had a different biology, and a handshake was actually transmitting a greeting signal through the contact¡­ Or it could be something as simple as a sign of offering your hand in respect, and the holding of the hands is accepting that respect,¡± said Nero, offering his random thoughts as to where the handshake could have come from. Come to think of it. Nero didn¡¯t actually know where the handshake came from. ¡®How could I have never watched a homemade video from some random sociology student about where the handshake originated?¡¯ Nero wondered. Nick looked pleased, and David and Kendra both looked at Nero like he was an idiot. Nero returned their regards with a shrug, then looked around for something to eat or drink. Spotting a tray of small biscuits and a pitcher of coffee, he helped himself. Sounding like a proud father, Nick said, ¡°As I told you both, Nero sees the world in a very interesting way. Where we tend to methodically search for answers.¡± Nick held a hand toward Nero and continued, ¡°He just jumps to conclusions based on minimal information. The fact that he is so often correct, is baffling.¡± Kendra and David just nodded in appreciation, apparently impressed with Nick¡¯s interpretation of Nero¡¯s bullshit. ¡°So now that you¡¯ve been exposed to Nero¡¯s eccentricities, let¡¯s have you introduce yourselves,¡± Nick said as he gave the proverbial floor to his lab assistants. Nero just stood leaning against the wall with a cookie, his coffee, and a smile. Kendra stepped forward first. She was a little over 5 feet tall, with bright blue eyes, and blond hair in a tight bun. She looked like a little Norwegian princess. ¡°I¡¯m Kendra Sterling,¡± she said. ¡°My background is in Monster spawning patterns and I completed a 6 year branch of Agriculture, with a focus on soil volatility and essence permeation. My focus shifted when I started to look at how beast waves affected the soil in affected areas. I¡¯ve been under Mr. Salvatore for 7 years, and I hope to get my own research appointment one day,¡± she finished with a smile. Nick interjected before David could step forward. ¡°In addition to being a brilliant scientist in the field of essence flow tracking, Kendra is a brilliant politician. She handles most of my social calendar and professional interactions. She is also in charge of all our grant requests and thesis preparations. If we need something, Kendra can get it,¡± he said, then waved for David to take his turn. David stepped up. He was only 5ft 6in tall and seemed to stand as straight as possible in order to gain an inch or two. With a very deep tan and slicked black hair; he was a very thin, very proper, little Roman aristocrat. With a proud tilt of his chin, he stated, ¡°My name is David Henderson. And I¡¯ve been with Mr. Salvatore for 25 years. I am his right hand. Whatever he needs, I provide.¡± He then gave a crisp nod and stepped back. Nero could see Kendra with a hand covering her mouth and trying not to laugh. Nick just sighed and said, ¡°David is a great assistant and I¡¯m lucky to have him. In addition to being my ¡®right hand¡¯, he is a very accomplished scientist. He caught my attention when he published a paper on how it might be possible to predict beast waves by ambient essence fluctuations. One of our first successes was that very proof. Currently one of our projects is a collaboration between both David and Kendra in which Kendra posited that monster spawning locations and essence breaks may have a correlation to beast wave signs as determined by atmospheric essence flows. It¡¯s a brilliant theory, and David used his expertise in essence collection to develop a possible testing method.¡± Nick finished his scientific babble with an enthusiastic smile. Both David and Kendra were smiling in pride and accomplishment. Nero wasn¡¯t paying attention, and caught himself when he realized Nick had stopped talking. ¡°Wow. That¡¯s¡­. something all right. Good on both of you. I¡¯m sure you¡¯ll fix whatever is wrong with it,¡± Nero said, pleased that he successfully covered his disinterest. All three of the scientists gave him a blank look, so Nero changed the subject by asking, ¡°So, where is my desk? And I have some questions for whoever will be teaching me magic. I have a class in three days, and I want to be ready.¡± David looked to Nick and asked, ¡°What class? I thought I was supposed to develop a lesson plan from scratch. Aren¡¯t you and I going to be teaching him magic?¡± He looked confused. Nick replied, ¡°Among other things. Nero, did you open the syllabus I sent you this morning? It¡¯s a schedule that I collaborated with Ms. Averett and Captain Angelton to create. We need your input before it¡¯s finalized. A lot of the coursework was chosen by David here. He is a Center-point graduate and an accomplished mage.¡± Kendra spoke up, ¡°Just send me the finalized schedule, and I¡¯ll make sure you get into whatever classes are needed. In the meantime, I have my own tasks to take care of, so I¡¯ll be off.¡± She started to walk toward the door, but then paused, turned around and walked toward Nero. She then held her arm out straight. Nero smiled, realizing that she was trying to shake hands, so he obliged. After two good shakes her arm dropped, and she just stood there looking at Nero. It got awkward quickly. ¡°Yeah, I¡¯m not going to be doing that. It feels weird,¡± she said. Without another word, she turned around and walked out. Nero turned to David and Nick who were both quietly muttering to each other about how ¡®it was weird¡¯ and ¡®there is no reason to adopt such a ridiculous ritual¡¯. When they noticed Nero judging them, they snapped to attention and smiled. Nick then took the opportunity to say, ¡°I have some things to do as well. So I¡¯ll leave you with David.¡± He then nodded to each of them, and walked out of the room. Nero watched Nick leave and wondered if the man really had anything important to do. Turning back, he was surprised to see David walking toward the sofa and ignoring him. ¡®When they end a conversation, they just STOP,¡¯ Nero thought. ¡®That¡¯s NEVER going to stop being annoying.¡¯ Chapter 23 - Always get it in writing Lord Cosgrave stood across from General Branson in her aide¡¯s office. The general had called her here for a private chat, and Lord Cosgrave was glad she had accepted the meeting. Crossing her arms and nodding, she said, ¡°This makes a lot of sense actually. Over the past 15 years, we¡¯ve had a steady drop off in local essence crystal production. There was no reason to assume embezzlement due to the fact that no one had increased production of any trade goods.¡± ¡°I¡¯m not seeing a connection.¡± The general frowned in confusion. ¡°You¡¯re not thinking like a noble,¡± she replied. Holding up a finger to punctuate each point, Lord Cosgrave said, ¡°We have shipments that are heading south, while being hidden. We have a raid with Islangur weapons in a place there shouldn¡¯t be any Islangurs. We also have a circumstantial evidence of a Noble house being involved. What do those facts in conjunction imply?¡± Answering her own question, she said, ¡°It leads to the very real possibility of that young man being correct. Either someone is hiding an essence crystal smuggling ring, or they are using those crystals for something else. Essence crystals in those amounts could power wards or run the production of any number of illicit goods. It¡¯s also possible that someone is planning a Noble War. Regardless, this is evidence of an illegal operation in my domain and I have grounds to call for the Populators.¡± The general was surprised. That was a bold move for the City Lord. Calling for the Populators had real consequences if there wasn¡¯t anything for them to find. However, looking at what they already uncovered, it WAS enough to merit their involvement. They¡¯d been called for in the past with less evidence at the time. ¡°All right, but let me make the call to the capital. We don¡¯t know if your staff can be trusted. While I¡¯m doing that, You should speak with Dalton. If this is just a smuggling ring that got out of hand, then the Populators will be enough¡­.¡± Lord Cosgrave finished the general¡¯s statement, ¡°But if it is a play for the position of the City Lord, the Populators will have to sit out until the conclusion. Afterword, the winner could petition for the Populators to leave and come back at a later date to investigate. Holding the title of City Lord could buy them time to remove any evidence of wrongdoing. Good point. I¡¯ll arrange with Dalton for a quiet increase in the keep protections. My children should be safe at the Center.¡± ¡°The Center isn¡¯t off limits in a Noble War. But I suppose we cut off their ability to get men into the city. In any case, your safety is paramount and the keep should be unassailable if Dalton is ready for them,¡± said the general, offering his opinion. ¡°I¡¯ll talk to my children, they can make up their own minds. This will be a good experience for them. They are adults, and they need to start making their own decisions,¡± Lord Cosgrave said with a dismissive wave of her hand. ----- Standing by the couch, David seemed to want to take charge of the situation. Taking the tone of a teacher giving orders, he said, ¡°Well Mr. Walker, you just go through what Mr. Salvatore sent you, and I¡¯ll be here to answer any questions.¡± He then sat down and placed his pad and pen neatly on the coffee table. When he was settled, his link lit up and he closed his eyes. Nero shook his head in exasperation, then looked around for a place to sit. Like a Dad finding a parking spot open near the front of the lot at Home Depot, his eyes found Nick¡¯s desk. ¡®That works,¡¯ he thought. Walking over, he admired the large, high quality, executive chair. He ran his hand over the rich dark red leather, and admired the brass studs. ¡®Fancy,¡¯ he noted with pleasure. Dropping his satchel on the desk, he sat down and made himself comfortable. Opening his link, he looked for Nick¡¯s ping that he had only glanced at earlier in the morning. He idly wondered how long pings stay in the Thought-hub. Focusing on the message, he saw it was an official looking notice, with a nice letterhead and bunch of titles. ¡®From the office of blah, blah, blah. We look forward to working with¡­ Your responsibilities will include¡­ nope¡­ not important¡­ there!¡¯ Nero noticed some links. It seemed that you can place attachments, or at least references to other documents inside a ping. There was a proposed schedule, a recommended reading list for personal growth, a diet plan, and an authorization for the offices of the center to use his intake testing data for scientific research. There was not, however, a contract of any kind. Nero wasn¡¯t going to fall for that. ¡°Hey David,¡± he said, bringing the young man out of out his link. ¡°Yes? What can I help you with?¡± David stood up and walked over. Noticing that Nero was using Mr. Salvatore¡¯s desk, David couldn¡¯t resist frowning, much to Nero¡¯s amusement. ¡°I don¡¯t see a contract agreement for Nick sponsoring my education, or anything else we talked about in return for my data,¡± Nero pointed out. ¡°A contract? Mr. Salvatore has already arranged the work-associate position for you through the Center. He is currently your advisor, and I¡¯ve personally sent you all the information on magic you requested. Was there something else to the agreement that I wasn¡¯t made aware of? Why would you need a contract?¡± he asked with a hint of confusion. Nero shook his head. ¡°No, everything is looking great, and he¡¯s lived up to his end of the bargain so far. But what about tomorrow? If I sign this now, and he decides that he already learned what he needs from me, what¡¯s to stop him from firing me? Next thing I know, I¡¯ll be mopping floors in the arena and developing an ulcer from the remedial classes that I¡¯ll be transferred to. Or maybe without his backing, the army will decide that I was interesting enough to forcibly enlist. Six months from now I could be covered in mud on the front lines of the war, fighting for a country that I hardly know. Is that what you want?¡± Nero asked incredulously. Unauthorized usage: this narrative is on Amazon without the author''s consent. Report any sightings. David looked shocked. ¡°And somehow all that will happen if you don¡¯t have a signed contract?¡± he asked with disbelief. ¡°It could,¡± was Nero¡¯s reply. ¡°With a contract guaranteeing my job and benefits until I graduate with a degree¡­ or I think you call it a focus or branch or something, I won¡¯t have to worry about my future. Come on David, I am giving an all-access pass to my data for SCIENCE. I should make sure that I¡¯m covered in case of unforeseen events, that¡¯s just simple logic.¡± David scrunched his face and replied, ¡°It seems like demanding a contract to ensure that Mr. Salvatore keeps to his word is unnecessary and insulting. However, you make a good point considering unforeseen complications. What would happen if he were transferred? Or if gods-forbid something happened to him. I can¡¯t argue against you seeking to protect yourself from eventualities outside of your control. I¡¯ll draw up something using a standard ¡®exchange of services¡¯ contract. We use them for hiring contractors. Give me a few minutes.¡± He then closed his eyes and activated his link. Nero was happy with the development. As he was about to go back into his link, his concentration was broken when a piece of paper started coming out of Nick¡¯s desk. He watched as page after page came out of a thin line just above the pad that provided a work area. ¡®An in-desk printer! Awesome,¡¯ he thought. David opened his eyes and reached over to collect the pages. ¡°I¡¯ll need you to tell me exactly what the deal was, just so there are no misunderstandings. Now that I think about it, you¡¯re absolutely correct to ask for paperwork concerning the agreement. ¡®Precision is professionalism¡¯ after all, and there is no reason to avoid paperwork, even if it feels unnecessary. That type of thinking only leads to mistakes. Good thinking Nero.¡± He leaned over with his pen poised to write, then patiently waited for Nero to dictate the terms of the deal. Nero was conflicted. On one hand he felt like he successfully swindled a great deal for himself by giving away what he felt was very little. On the other hand, unfortunately, was a happy David who was looking forward to doing paperwork. Even worse, David was congratulating Nero on his attention to detail and complimenting his work ethic. ¡®Way to suck the fun out a victory,¡¯ thought Nero. ¡°Well the deal was very simple. I¡¯d let Nick use my intake testing data for a paper he wanted to write, and then allow him to observe and test me during my future star usage. Mrs. Salvatore made sure to include a guarantee of ethical people making sure he doesn¡¯t kill me or anything. In return, I get a job with no responsibilities listed as his lab-assistant, free room and board at the center, access to classes and any instruction I want, and some spending money for clothes and stuff. Just write in whatever you think is fair, as I don¡¯t have any idea how much anything costs,¡± Nero said while holding up his fingers to count out the points. ¡°Yup, that¡¯s everything.¡± David had stopped writing, and was staring at Nero. ¡°That¡¯s what he agreed to?¡± he asked. ¡°Yup,¡± Nero said with a smile. ¡°OK, I¡¯d want that in writing too. How did they get this by the ethics board for the Research Center, not to mention the oversight committee for the Center¡¯s educational directorate?¡± David asked. ¡°No idea. That¡¯s not my responsibility. Check my contract,¡± Nero replied while sporting a wide, toothy smile and leaning back in the chair. He would have put his feet up on the desk, but he was too short, and the desk was too tall. He had to settle for placing his hands on his stomach to signify his victory. David finished writing, and stood up. ¡°It will take some time for me to get this signed by parties representing the Research Center and the Center¡¯s education department. In the meantime, maybe you should take the day. You should return to the dorms and get some personal development done.¡± He started off toward the door. Pausing, he looked back at a smug Nero and said, ¡°You¡¯re not playing a joke on me again, are you?¡± ¡°Nope, that is what Nick agreed to. Mrs. Salvatore was on the ping-call thing while we were discussing it. You can get one of those people who can tell when someone¡¯s lying to check my story if you want,¡± Nero offered happily. ¡°Right. I¡¯ll confirm with Mrs. Salvatore, and let you know as soon as I have the contract ready for your signature,¡± he said. David¡¯s shoulders were slumped in defeat, as he opened the door and left. Enjoying the feeling of doing business from behind Nick¡¯s desk, Nero chuckled a the sight. He did not envy the hoops David would have to jump through to get that completely legitimate contract signed. Putting the poor man¡¯s pain out his mind, Nero focused on his own paperwork. Looking around the really nice office, Nero decided that there was no reason to walk all the way back to the dorms, this room suited him just fine. He went and got himself a fresh cup of coffee and some more cookies. Sitting back down in Nick¡¯s comfy chair, Nero clapped his hands loudly. ¡°Time to get to work,¡± he said to himself. Opening his link, Nero started using the desk to print out all the attachments that Nick had sent him, along with a combat class list that Captain Angelton sent. The printer was just as intuitive as everything else had been when it came to the link. Nero must have printed out 50 pages. He looked under the desk, but couldn¡¯t see where all the paper was stored. Eventually, he gave up his investigation. Shrugging, he decided to ignore it. For all he knew, it created them out of the essence in the air. Looking around the room at all the wooden bookshelves, walls, and furniture. Nero surmised that if there was a wood essence, this place would be chock full of it. Maybe he could identify it. Closing his eyes, he reached out to the room. With his studies last night, he could feel the heat in the air. There was very weak wind, and plenty of moisture. One of the spells he studied was for cleaning dishes; it used ¡®purity¡¯ which was apparently pretty common. He could almost recognize it. ¡®How do people do this. There are so many ¡®flavors¡¯ just intertwined and floating around. I get that ¡®magic is everywhere¡¯ but this is ridiculous,¡¯ he thought. Nero was doing HIS version of essence meditation, which was much more violent than how it was described in the book. Typically, a person would open their mind, and allow the essence to flow through their psychic field, and around their body. By feeling the essence flow, they will be better able to recognize the innumerable essence types. Nero, however seemed to like to rip an essence flow apart and then scrutinize the strands with his mind. He thought it was a much more efficient way to learn how each type of essence felt. He had developed this technique the night before. Unfortunately, he hadn¡¯t remembered the lessons learned from his practice¡¯s aftermath. He should have remembered that this kind of practice made the essence in room become slightly violent. With his eyes closed in concentration, Nero didn¡¯t notice the air being affected. As the essence in the air shook, he continued practicing, completely unaware that his recently printed papers were flying all over the place. Several hours later, Nero was still immersed in his essence training. Without warning, the door to the office opened. Nick walked in like he owned the place, which he did, and stopped dead at the site of a small essence storm centered on Nero. ¡®Why is that little shit sitting in my chair?¡¯ was his first thought. Looking over the storm with his psychic field, he realized that Nero was just tearing through the ambient essence without rhyme or reason. ¡°What the hell are you doing?¡± He asked loudly. ¡°Huh?¡± Nero¡¯s concentration broke, and he opened his eyes to see Nick standing in front of him. Nick was staring at the papers still floating in the air. ¡°Crap, I forgot to use a book as a paperweight again,¡± Nero muttered. ¡°Don¡¯t worry Nick, I¡¯ll get this cleaned up in no time,¡± he said loudly. Hopping to his feet, Nero started picking up the papers while mentally reviewing all the types of essence he totally, almost recognized. Chapter 24 - You literally dont know what you dont know The King sat in one of his gardens manipulating the essence around him to stamp complex spell forms, and then releasing them immediately back into the air. Over and over he practiced. ¡®Successful repetition in preparation for combat is preparation for repetition of success in combat,¡¯ he thought to himself. Looking over the calm pond, his gaze landed on some ducks that were enjoying the day. As his bench was seamlessly integrated into the landscape, they didn¡¯t notice his presence. The garden around him was beautiful, which was why he often chose it for his daily practice. ¡°Sire, Director Weatherby would like a word,¡± said a voice from behind him, breaking his reverie. Sighing, the king waved his hand over his shoulder. ¡°Send him over,¡± he said. Director Weatherby watched his feet as he didn¡¯t want to disturb the King¡¯s preferred garden. ¡°Sire,¡± he said. ¡°The matrix of fate is starting to show some startling results. It may be a few days until a comprehensive report will be available, but I thought you¡¯d like to hear some of the preliminary findings.¡± The King stood up and faced the Director of the Tower of Fate. Noticing the director wringing his hands, he said, ¡°Charles, it¡¯s good to see you. What is my grandfather¡¯s toy showing the Fateweavers that has you so worked up?¡± Weatherby could feel the king¡¯s psychic presence in the air. Even with the king¡¯s exceptional control, the ambient essence made it clear that Weatherby was not it¡¯s master. Even the essence waited for the king¡¯s command. Coughing lightly, Director Weatherby ignored the king¡¯s familiarity and replied, ¡°Sire, the prophesied path for one of the cities in the south, Dorchester, has been significantly altered. The Cosgrave¡¯s will not fall, and the Noble War doesn¡¯t make sense. There aren¡¯t any battles being foretold. A lot of what is being shown is contradictory to what we previously thought. Even the prophesied beast tide has been moved up. We are very concerned.¡± The king nodded, and he took his time to formulate a response that wasn¡¯t insulting to their faith in the matrix of fate. He looked at the nervous Weatherby and said, ¡°Remember that the paths we walk are winding, and many things can alter our course. This is not the first time a prophecy has not come to pass, and it will not be the last. Each of us directs our own fate, and the matrix of fate was created not to offer a destination, but to warn of the impediments we will face.¡± Off to the side, the king¡¯s aide interrupted their conversation. ¡°Sire, there has been a call from Dorchester for the Populators. It¡¯s been routed to your personal hub.¡± As Weatherby¡¯s eyes widened, the king looked back at the Palace. Forming a connection, he read the request and chuckled. With impressive speed, he went through the related files, and collated them into a new report on Dorchester. With a smirk, he then opened a link to his Queen. Queen Marrisa¡¯s psyche touched mind and he felt her love through the link. ¡°What is it dear? I¡¯m currently meeting with Jenkins, there is a projected beast wave heading toward Newgate that we might have to deal with,¡± she said while seeming distracted. ¡°Leave it to another team. I want you and yours in Dorchester. I¡¯m sending you the relevant files now. I think you¡¯ll find it interesting. Let me know how it goes,¡± he replied. After a few moments, the king felt her confusion. ¡°What is this file on Project-Nero?¡± she asked. The king replied, ¡°You¡¯ll see. I¡¯m sure you¡¯ll love it.¡± While projecting his merriment over the link, he closed the connection. Turning to Weatherby and his aide, he laughed out loud at their confusion. ¡®It really is a beautiful day,¡¯ he thought as he looked over his pond. Meanwhile, the king¡¯s aide and Weatherby just waited for him to pay attention to them again. ------ Nick rubbed his temples and closed his eyes. ¡°In the future, please don¡¯t practice magic in my office. We have labs for that. Also, what were you doing?¡± Nick asked, then caught himself, ¡°No¡­. Don¡¯t answer that. We¡¯ll come back to that. What I came in here for is the contract you had David write up. Vera called to inform me that I¡¯m an idiot, and that I owe her a nice dinner. When I inquired as to the nature of my idiocy, she then quoted the contract which is now currently under review with the educational directorate. Why in the hell did you want a contract?¡± Nick asked, genuinely curious. To him, Nero asking for a signed and legitimized record of their bargain was so stupid, that he couldn¡¯t figure out the angle. Based on historical precedent, when it came to Nero, he was missing something. ¡°It¡¯s to stop you from changing the deal later on. Right now, you need me to sign over my intake testing data. Everything else is just a potential future gain for you. To put it another way, most of my side of the deal is front-loaded, while yours is back-loaded across several years. If you decide to go back on your word, I¡¯d be screwed without the deal in writing,¡± Nero said as he continued collecting, and organizing his papers. ¡°You think I¡¯d break my word? Do you think so little of other people?¡± Nick asked. Nero paused his collection, and looked at Nick. He didn¡¯t look hurt, or offended, he just looked interested in what Nero would say. So, Nero answered honestly, ¡°I don¡¯t expect people to break their word for no reason. But there¡¯s always a reason. Who knows what can happen. Maybe Vera decides to leave you for David, and you decide to retire to an island somewhere and sulk. What would happen to me then? Or what if one of the hundred things I¡¯ve never heard of happened, and your life would be a little easier by cutting ties with me. Contracts aren¡¯t for holding someone to their word, they are for enforcing a deal in case of unexpected crap showing up. It¡¯s nothing personal.¡± Nick smiled. ¡°Your mind is like a potential futures machine. All you seem to think about is what can happen, and how things can interact. It¡¯s fascinating to watch. I can¡¯t help but wonder about the world your soul used to reside in. It must have been such a peaceful place, with everyone heading off any potential dangers at all times. Or maybe it was an apocalyptic wasteland, and your soul was forged in the fires of survival. It¡¯s infuriating that I can¡¯t devise a way to track where you came from,¡± Nick finished with an unhappy growl. ¡°Uh, yeah. Tough break. Anyway, I¡¯m going to take off. I¡¯m hungry. I¡¯ll probably spend the rest of the day in my room.¡± Nero raised his hands in preemptive defense. ¡°Don¡¯t worry, no more magic practice in the dorms. I¡¯ll just be studying and going over the syllabus you sent me. I¡¯ll let David know what I don¡¯t care about.¡± He paused and looked down at the papers he¡¯d collected. ¡°Speaking of things that I don¡¯t care about. I noticed that I¡¯m supposed to spend every other morning with unarmed combat training. The sheet listed it as a class in the army compound. Then after lunch, I have room assignment with a note saying, ¡®combat caster trainer will be assigned¡¯. After dinner, I¡¯m supposed to self study. Considering this is all supposed to start tomorrow, I have questions,¡± Nero said, while shuffling through the papers, looking for the sheets in questions. ¡°Very well, ask away,¡± Nick said as he got himself something to drink and walked past Nero to take back his chair. ¡°Well, first multiple six hour sessions is a bit much I think. Also, Do I have to come back to the dorms for food? That¡¯s like a 20 minute walk both ways? Then, is the caster trainer a private tutor or something, how did you swing that? And not to focus too much on it, but 6 hours of unarmed combat training, followed by 6 hours of magic combat training; isn¡¯t that nuts?¡± Nero asked. Nick looked amused. He sipped a glass of whiskey and eased back in his chair. ¡°There are 30 hours in a day, and spending 18 of those hours in structured improvement is barely over half of that. That still leaves plenty of time for personal reading, and catching up on personal projects. It¡¯s completely normal to have 3 blocks reserved for work. ¡°As for your lunch and dinner, you can eat at the compound. You¡¯ll probably be using their practice rooms for your self study. Once you approve the syllabus and send it to Kendra, you¡¯ll be registered for classes and have use of the facilities there. As for the mage trainer, you can thank Captain Angelton. He said he knew someone who¡¯d be a perfect fit. I didn¡¯t ask him for details, but I trust him to know his business. ¡°By the way, I already removed you from the classes you had signed up for. Those weren¡¯t what you wanted anyway. The whole point of ¡®introduction to essence¡¯ is to help people develop a feel for essence flows, and you can already do that.¡± He looked sourly at all the displaced nick-knacks on his desk. ¡°And the good captain would never allow you to settle for a basic combat class, he¡¯ll want you training to actually fight. ¡°On the days that you¡¯ll be here, David will have a lab set up for you. He should have sent you your coursework and reading lists. You can consider it self study, but I¡¯ll make sure that David is available to answer questions. That should cover everything in our agreement, don¡¯t you think? Speaking of our agreement, how do you plan to use your star?¡± Nick asked, now actually showing some interest in what he was saying. Nero took a moment to absorb everything Nick just said. Rather than answer Nick¡¯s question, he shoved the papers he was still holding into his satchel. Then, he walked over to pour himself a glass of scotch, but didn¡¯t see any ice and decided to just have coffee. Finally grabbing some more cookies, he walked over and sat down in front of Nick¡¯s desk. Now comfortable, Nero looked up at Nick ready to answer. ¡®Why does Nick look annoyed?¡¯ he wondered. ¡°Well the book on awakening that I read said that each star infuses the essence of the world that you¡¯ve accumulated into the stat that you choose, but all the stats are important, so I¡¯ll be just putting one in each of them at a time, this next one is going to Confluence,¡± Nero proudly stated as he munched on his cookie. Nick nodded and replied, ¡°That¡¯s technically accurate. But there are many accepted stat distributions. Not to mention you should be taking advantage of your natural inclinations to make the most of your growth. There is a great deal to consider how to get the most of an essence infusion. Preparing your leveling path is the work of a lifetime.¡± Nick looked over to Nero enjoying his cookies, seemingly ignoring everything Nick just said. Nick squinted his eyes. ¡°Nero, did you actually READ the book, or did you just skim it?¡± he asked. Nero¡¯s attention snapped up. Nick¡¯s tone of voice sent him back to high school. He answered instinctively, with as much detail as he could remember. ¡°I read it¡­. For the most part. There was a section on what the stats mean with a bunch of graphs on population averages, but it was just for reference. Then there was a section on recommended stat distributions for balance in life, but that section was on how to set up ratio¡¯s for the stars. Since I figured I¡¯d just spread them out, it didn¡¯t apply to me. I also skipped the section on skill interactions, because I read that skills aren¡¯t like abilities. I¡¯ll be increasing my skills by just learning stuff, so there''s no reason to waste my time tracking that ridiculous list. All in all, I got the gist of it. I don¡¯t know why the book had to be so big, there are only 3 stats¡­ and the confluence thing.¡± Nero finished while enjoying his coffee. Nick¡¯s mouth hung open in amazement, his hands in his lap as he leaned into his desk. It looked like the desk was the only thing keeping his shoulders from dropping his forehead into the desk. ¡°That is ¡­. I don¡¯t¡­. HOW DO YOU KEEP LEVELING!?!?!¡± he shouted and threw up his hands as he shot to his feet. Completely caught off guard, Nero jumped in his seat and almost spilled his coffee. Giving Nick a glare, he shook the splashed coffee off one hand. ¡°It just happens. What the hell are you on about?¡± he asked in annoyance. Nick walked behind his chair and place his hands on the back. He gave Nero a serious look. ¡°Normally a parent or guardian would be there to help you break down your identity, but as you present yourself as such a mature young man I mistakenly assumed you would just read what you needed from a book. LIKE YOU SAID YOU WOULD. However, you clearly are incapable of learning without someone holding your hand.¡± Nero didn¡¯t like Nick¡¯s tone, not to mention what Nick was saying. He was about to give him a piece of his mind, but Nick continued on in a loud and authoritative, very un-Nick-like voice. ¡°I will not interfere or attempt to guide your path. But! Now that I¡¯m your advisor, I will at least make sure you understand the choices that your are so flippantly making. First, I want you to open your identity and then tell me when you can visualize it in your mind.¡± Ensure your favorite authors get the support they deserve. Read this novel on Royal Road. Nero gave Nick a dirty look, but complied while crossing his arms like a stubborn child. ¡°OK, I can see it.¡±
Name Nero Walker Level 5
Race Human Growth 88%
Tier 1 Condition 100%
Age 14 Center 96%
Body 1 Mind 1
Soul 1 Confluence 10
Stars 1 Pillars 0/0
¡°Now focus on one of your stats and attempt to learn more about it.¡± Nick ordered Nero while filling his voice with as much condemnation as possible. All of the sudden, one of the useless tables that he skipped in the book he had read on awakening made a lot more sense. One after another, he opened his detailed stat panels. A sinking feeling came over Nero while his face drained of color as he looked them over.
Body 1
Base Operative Level Stress
Presence 9 10.8 1.5
Durability 7 8.4 0
Recovery 13 15.6 0.8
Speed 11 13.2 0
Adaptability 24 28.8 6.8
Power 8 9.6 0
Mind 1
Base Operative Level Stress
Weight 20 24 1
Control 21 25.2 3.4
Field 8 9.6 3.8
Precision 22 26.4 7.1
Endurance 26 31.2 11.3
Focus 6 7.2 2.3
Soul 1
Base Operative Level Stress
Size 26 31.2 0.1
Density 101 121.2 0.1
Intensity 76 91.2 0.1
Pressure 23 27.6 0.1
Harmony 3 3.6 1.1
Adaptability 270 324 0.1
¡°I have no idea what any of this means,¡± Nero said quietly, his face reddening in embarrassment. Nick threw his hands up and started pacing. ¡°If only someone had spent the time to study each of the aspects of existence and created a book that you could reference to learn about how the world works. Maybe¡­ A detailed account of what it all means. How the various parts of a person come together to optimize growth. Wouldn¡¯t that be something!¡± Nick ranted as he walked around the room and waved his hands like he was having a great idea. ¡°How the hell is anyone supposed to pay attention to all these numbers? And what do these things mean?¡± Nero muttered. Nick returned to his seat, happy to see Nero looking confused and thoughtful for once. ¡°I don¡¯t know, maybe you should try focusing on them.¡± Body: Presence ¨C How charismatic and attractive you are. Durability ¨C How resistant to damage you are. Recovery ¨C How quickly you recover. Speed ¨C How quickly you move and react. Adaptability ¨C How you handle change. Power ¨C How well you function. Mind: Weight ¨C Your depth of thought. Control ¨C Your mastery of your thoughts. Field ¨C Your breadth of thought. Precision ¨C Your exactitude of thought. Endurance ¨C Your will to persevere. Focus ¨C Your scope in thinking. Soul: Size ¨C How large is your fire? Density ¨C How strong do you burn? Intensity ¨C How bright is your light? Pressure ¨C How hot is your aura? Harmony ¨C How much do you destroy? Adaptability ¨C How much can you take? Nero looked over the definitions that were so easily found, if he had just looked for them. He saw that Confluence just said: Confluence: The world will tear you apart. How well will you hold yourself together? Nero looked at Nick, sitting in his chair, arms folded neatly, with a smug smile on his face. There was no way Nero was going to dignify the situation with an apology. He mastered his thoughts and played it off like what he just discovered wasn¡¯t mind shattering information. He simply stated, ¡°Oh cool. So there are breakdowns of more stuff. That makes sense. It¡¯s not like an entire person can be boiled down into three little stats. I¡¯m guessing there is probably more to the identity that I didn¡¯t pay attention to. No problem, that¡¯s why there are books. I¡¯m sure David¡¯s reading list covers this stuff. ¡°Anyway¡­ I¡¯m not sure what I¡¯ll spend my star on. I¡¯ll probably look into the details a little more before I figure it out. Did you have a request for my star usage, I know you won¡¯t tell me what to do, but you are paying for the privilege to study me. I¡¯ll consider your request and if I think it makes sense, I may use it.¡± Nero finished with a sagely nod. Nick¡¯s jaw dropped, and a look of confusion washed over his features. He was completely caught off guard. He thought Nero might actually start taking things seriously in the light of such information that he CLEARLY didn¡¯t know before hand. ¡°Uh¡­ I thought it might be interesting to have you use two stars in succession on one stat. Since you were leveling so quickly, and you don¡¯t seem to have any negative symptoms of star pressure... I wasn¡¯t thinking about a specific stat,¡± said Nick. Nero was happy with the effect his acting had on the poor man. Comfortably back in control of the conversation, he stood up. ¡°No problem, that shouldn¡¯t be an issue in the future. I¡¯ll look into what direction I want to go with my stuff. I¡¯ll have to get back to you. As I said earlier, I¡¯m hungry. So I¡¯m going to take off, and I¡¯m sure you¡¯ve got important research stuff to do. So, I¡¯ll see you later.¡± He waved and headed out. As Nero left, Nick sipped his whiskey while going over the conversation. ¡®I¡¯m sure he didn¡¯t already know about the stat breakdowns. How abnormal are his numbers? I sensed surprise when he looked at them, but nothing exceptional. Does he even know what they mean? Would he even recognize an abnormal stat?¡¯ he wondered. Visibly shaking himself out his analysis, he decided to put the little shit out of his mind. He had work that needed doing. He¡¯d spent the last few days dealing with Nero, and he was falling behind on his other responsibilities. From now on, Nero will be David¡¯s problem. ¡®Maybe now I¡¯ll stop getting tension headaches,¡¯ he thought. Chapter 25 - Is there a pill for persecution syndrome? The Champions were assembled at the long-range teleportation platform, awaiting their team leader. All ten of them stood in silence, using their links for a last minute review of their squad¡¯s assignment in preparation for their deployment. Each of them was the very definition of a ¡®veteran¡¯. In fact, this particular squad had been serving together for over 200 years, some of them having been on other teams for many years before that. They knew their duties and fields of expertise, and by reading through the mission profile, they had a good idea what orders their leader, Champion Charity, would give out. Off to the side of the room, the technicians attended to their duties, careful not to disturb the quiet atmosphere. For them, it never got old to see the Champions in person. It wasn¡¯t uncommon for any of the teams to be deployed, but it was always unnerving how still they stood, and how the essence of the room was so still. It was said that no one could cast in the presence of a Champion without their permission. Champions were the soldiers of the Populators. Their order had been founded at the beginning of Oglivarch by King Leonard Oglivarch the first, known as the first among equals. He lived for 800 years before dying in solo combat with a wyvern, trying to regain the desire for life. He founded the current capital of Oglivarch, the city of Hennings, named for his first wife and queen. She died before the founding, while fighting for control of the city. As a champion of freedom, from her deathbed she extracted a promise from Leo that he would succeed in their dream. The Populators were the order of warriors who made that dream a reality. They wore specialized armor, the secrets of its construction known only to the order. Covered from head to toe in silver, with faceless helms and psychic halos, the Populators were feared and respected across all of Oglivarch. Where they went, growth followed. The doors to the chamber opened and Champion Charity walked in. Although she was only 5¡¯6¡¯¡¯, her tall strides made her seem like a giant. While she was in armor, Charity was her name. She had taken over from the previous Charity after years of brutal training. Countless challenges needed to be met before she earned the honor of carrying the mantle. This Charity had served the people for 500 years and was considered one of the most powerful of the Populators. Her squad was known to rarely call for reinforcements, and to never leave an assignment unfinished. Upon her entry, all of the silver helms turned toward her. The technicians watched in silence, as the Champions conferred over their private thought-hub. Making sure not to disturb the Champions, the technicians quietly double checked the transportation platform for any targeting errors, it was imperative that there would be no errors getting the Populators to where they were needed. ¡°You¡¯ve all read the mission briefing. Any questions?¡± Charity asked over their network. Receiving nothing but silence in response, she continued, ¡°I¡¯ll carry the command network, team leaders will host their own. The fate-weavers said that there might be a disruption in the local link network at some point, so do NOT join our networks to the local Thought-hub. Team leaders will be Diligence and Tenacity. Remedy, you¡¯ll be acting as a solo.¡± The Champions then split into their teams with practiced steps. ¡°Diligence, I want your team to teleport directly to the mage tower, take over their scrying hall, and find the enemy force. Locate and identify any local conspirators. Tenacity, you¡¯re with me. We¡¯ll be verifying the reports we received and I want to view the memory concerning the anomaly that was mentioned in the briefing. Remedy, you¡¯ll be going to the local thought-hub, I don¡¯t like what the fate-weaver said. His exact words were, ¡®there is a possible interruption of local link services¡¯, which could mean anything. Anyone have questions?¡± Charity asked. One of the Champions said in a curious tone, ¡°Is the anomaly mentioned in the report that kid with the soul from out-sector? The one that the arch mages are constantly scrying like it was their favorite new past time?¡± Charity sighed, ¡°Yes, that¡¯s him. Due to the fact that he is central to a lot of what is currently happening in Dorchester, I went to speak with Arch Mage Jennings. The crotchety old man finds the young man, named Nero Walker, amusing. Jennings was the first one to notice the soul¡¯s incursion onto our plane. He traced its path to outside our sector, and confirmed that the it wasn¡¯t tainted or a danger. His report noted that there was a residual mind imprint remaining even after its journey through the upper planes, how much of one is still in question. Although an oddity, the boy has not been determined to be a danger to Oglivarch¡¯s people. In fact, Council mage Matherson published a new scrying technique that he developed specifically to see what the kid was reading while muttering about ¡®scientists here being unimaginative fuck-wads¡¯. The irony of the situation made the story quite popular and I heard it from several people. ¡°Arch Mage Jennings went on to ask me to deliver the boy some books along with some cryptic words of wisdom. He also wanted to offer him a position in Center-Point Hennings. The King personally forbade the offer, but allowed the books and made sure that I would repeat his words in detail. ¡®His path is his own, and he¡¯ll get here eventually¡¯ were the King¡¯s words. I wasn¡¯t there, but I heard that after Jennings heard the King¡¯s decree, he was so angered that he might just go to Dorchester himself. All of that is immaterial to the mission. We will find the evidence, if it exists, of an Islangur incursion. If Nobles are involved in acts of treason¡­ We will burn it to the root,¡± Charity finished. All of the Champions responded as one, ¡°So that the forest may grow.¡± Charity nodded her head. It was the first time she had moved since she took her place in front of Champions. ¡°Any questions pertaining to the mission?¡± She asked, clearly ready to be moving. After taking a moment to make sure there were no questions incoming, she moved onto the long-range transportation platform. The squad moved into position behind her. Turning to the technicians, she spoke for the first time since she entered the room. ¡°Transport to Dorchester Central Keep Throne Room, authorization: The King¡¯s Will Be Done.¡± With a flash of light, the Champions vanished, and the technicians held their breath. One of them looked up and said, ¡°Dorchester Central Keep Throne Room reports a good transport, all Champions delivered in good health.¡± Shoulders sagged in relief, and the tension left the room. Smiles all around, they congratulated each other and went about the rest of their day. ----------- Nero walked back to the dorms in a daze. ¡®Did all those charts from the books really matter? There was so much math. Argh¡­.. I¡¯m going to have to go over everything again.¡¯ Plodding along like he was on his way to do chores, every step forward took effort. ¡®Maybe it won¡¯t be so bad. I¡¯m sure it¡¯s all important, but will it change anything if I just treat that part of my identity as information that is ¡®good to know¡¯ but not important. It could be like the details of a terms-of-service agreement. It¡¯s important to know where to find it, but you don¡¯t really HAVE to pay attention to it¡­ I¡¯ll go over the section again, but I won¡¯t stress about it,¡¯ he decided, trying to cheer himself up. Heading across the courtyard, he felt his stomach rumble. Checking his link, he looked for an easy way to get to the cafeteria without going through the large lobby. ¡®Dammit, the hawk better not be there. I can¡¯t take another person giving me shit today.¡¯ Timidly entering into Ms. Averett¡¯s domain, Nero looked around to see if he could spot her. The coast looked clear, so he increased his pace. Making sure not to jinx it, he didn¡¯t drop his guard until he was in line for food. After collecting a large helping of some type of lasagna and some steamed vegetables, he got something to drink and looked for an empty table. Although the cafeteria was pretty full, there were plenty of spaces to find some solitude. He put down his tray and used his link to find a copy of that book he kinda already read. This time he didn¡¯t intend to skip anything. Or at least he would thoroughly check to see if what he skipped was important. ¡®This is probably why I majored in communications,¡¯ he thought, completely ignoring the irony. It took Nero over an hour, and three coffee refills, to get a good overview of what the identity actually does. He was kind of right. The identity tracks what you are, but it also tracks how you live. The stress numbers are about how much ¡®stress¡¯ you put on a particular facet of your being. So to get more power, he needs to workout. Nero closed his link. Standing up, he remembered why he hated school. Ninety percent of what you learned was common sense. It was the ten percent that you didn¡¯t think about; that¡¯s where they get you. Heading back to his room, he thought about his numbers vs. the averages listed. Typically people in different regions had different starting numbers, which were based on how they lived their lives before awakening. Nero¡¯s numbers made no sense. Most people were between 10 and 20 at most in all their base numbers, even their soul numbers. His soul adaptability was like 270, and his density was over 100. ¡®I guess going through the afterlife and getting burned by a giant bug zapper does some serious shit to a person,¡¯ he thought. He also noticed that he had a lot of zero¡¯s in the ¡®level stress¡¯ column. The only way to increase those is to put effort into improving that aspect of his life. ¡®If I start focusing on this crap, I¡¯m going to turn into one of these drones,¡¯ he thought to himself as he looked around at all the people scurrying about. His ¡®operative¡¯ column was just about how much essence he has absorbed and how strong his numbers are in practice. That number is improved by adding stars to the overall stat. Although, he still didn¡¯t understand what stars actually did. But, for now, he was alright with knowing that ¡®more is good¡¯. Getting to his room, he noticed his now clean robes in a nice bag hanging off his door. ¡®Wow, they just leave this in the hallway?¡¯ he thought as he looked around. He felt kinda bad that he just assumed people would fuck with personal things left out in the open. Taking them off the door, a circle under the bag lit up on the door with a flash. Stopping himself from jumping back, he realized that there must be some magic protection type stuff protecting the bag from being moved by someone other than the room¡¯s occupant. ¡®OK¡­ so they aren¡¯t completely naive. And I¡¯m not an asshole for assuming people suck,¡¯ he thought with a smile on his face. Opening the door, Nero was surprised to see his room was exactly how he left it. He saw his desk covered in random papers, some of which were on the floor. ¡®This is a personal growth moment,¡¯ he thought with a sigh as he slumped his shoulders. Soon, his fresh clothes and robes were put away, and his desk was organized. He went to the bathroom, got a fresh glass of water, and sat down for some more studying. Before he opened his link to check out his ¡®digital library¡¯, Nero decided to check his center to see how much more he could take before he should switch to his physical books.
Name Nero Walker Level 5
Race Human Growth 89%
Tier 1 Condition 100%
Age 14 Center 52%
Body 1 Mind 1
Soul 1 Confluence 10
Stars 1 Pillars 0/0
¡®OK, I should switch to physical books for now. Did my leveling speed slow down, or is it still fast? Doesn¡¯t matter, levels will come when they come,¡¯ Nero thought to himself with a nod. Pulling out his materials for studying magic, he focused on memorizing the simple essence patterns that made up his beginner spells. One of the methods for learning was to pretend to imbue essence into a spell and visualize pattern. Eventually, a mage could be so precise with his thoughts that he would ¡®stamp¡¯ the pattern into being. Nero didn¡¯t aspire to be an average mage that just used essence, he imagined a future where he could ¡®stamp¡¯ his will into being. For right now, he had to carve the imagined essence. ¡®One step at a time. I¡¯m gonna be like one of those sword masters on the internet that can cut bullets. It all starts with practice,¡¯ he thought to himself, while burning that conviction into his mind. Nero was at it for hours, right up until his link interrupted his concentration. He had received an urgent ping from Nick waiting for a connection. ¡®I forgot to check the syllabus!¡¯ he remembered. Nero muttered a quiet, ¡°shit¡±. Opening the connection, Nero tried to head off the expected tirade. ¡°Hey Nick, I¡¯m just about done with the syllabus. I think everything David chose is great. I was just cross referencing the book list wi-¡¯ This tale has been unlawfully lifted without the author''s consent. Report any appearances on Amazon. Nick interrupted. ¡®Never mind all that. The army is going to be busy, there won¡¯t be daily classes that you can join. I just received word that the Populators are here. They must have been sent the moment the Capital learned of a noble house possibly turning traitor. I¡¯m just pinging you to make sure that you stay on Center grounds for the next few days. You have a habit of causing me headaches, and you being at the army compound is a bad idea,¡± he finished emphatically. Nero was confused, ¡®So no training with the army tomorrow?¡¯ ¡°No Nero. No training with the army tomorrow. Probably no training with the army for a while,¡± Nick replied. ¡°OK¡­ are we being invaded or something? And who are the Pop people?¡± Nero asked, still confused. The worry Nick was feeling had no trouble coming through the link loud and clear. ¡°Populators Nero. Don¡¯t screw up that name. They have been around since the beginning of the kingdom, and they are the backbone of Oglivarch. The name comes from when they would pacify a region of monster activity and allow for the growth of cities. Their ranks are recruited from the best of us. They are an elite cadre of mages and soldiers dedicated to the protection of the realm, maintaining the balance of power, and they answer only to the King. ¡°In fact it was the first King of Oglivarch who bestowed on them their purpose and name. He told them, ¡®You will burn out corruption and chaos, and leave only order and opportunity. The wicked will fear your coming, but the righteous will greet you with love. Go, and leave the path wide and clear for our people¡¯s growth.¡¯ It is a very famous quote from the founding of Hennings.¡± Nero did NOT think that this was a welcome development. ¡°So religious zealots have come to Dorchester from the Capital. Is there going to be a purge or something? Can I come with you, or am I on my own?¡± he asked in panic. As he was speaking, Nero stood up and started shoving things into his satchel. ¡°Come with me where? More importantly why do you think religious zealots have come to Dorchester? Nero, I can feel you panicking. What¡¯s wrong with you?¡± Nick asked. All of the worry from his connection was gone, leaving only confusion. Nero was almost ready to go, his satchel was filled with his books and spare clothes. ¡°Because you said that they¡¯re here to ¡®burn out corruption¡¯, doesn¡¯t that sound like religious zealots? I just need to know if you¡¯re going to take me with you when you leave. Wait, you¡¯re not going? I don¡¯t want to be in the city when the purges start. I always hated those movies where the main characters chooses to stay for some stupid reason. I¡¯m not ready for a rebellion. I¡¯ve barely started my training arc!¡± Nero practically shouted over the link. His heart was racing as he imagined the city was already on fire. ¡®Nero, I need you to calm down. There are no religious zealots. No purges. Or well at least you won¡¯t be purged. You¡¯re perfectly safe. Take a breath, and try to control your mind. I don¡¯t know what conclusion you have come to, but it¡¯s wrong. You don¡¯t have to run away. No one is leaving the city or fighting in a rebellion. I¡¯m simply pinging you to let you know that you won¡¯t be going to the army compound to train, because they¡¯ll be busy doing army things¡­. Are you calm now?¡± Nick asked. Nero had sat on his bed while Nick was talking. Clutching his bag to his chest with both arms. Nero said over the link, ¡°I¡¯m perfectly calm. So why are the ¡®poplators¡¯ here if they¡¯re not going to purge anyone?¡± Nick responded with a mental sigh, ¡°Populators Nero. Pop-u-lat-ors. As in, they populate. The name is very important, try to remember it. And I didn¡¯t say they weren¡¯t going to purge anyone. In fact, that¡¯s a pretty accurate word for what they do. I¡¯m just saying that you have nothing to worry about.¡± Nero snorted, and replied, ¡°That¡¯s not helping me keep calm Nick. Who is getting purged? And more importantly, why are we sticking around a place where there is purging going on?¡± ¡°Nero, I need you to listen very carefully. I shouldn¡¯t be telling you this, so don¡¯t tell ANYONE. Yesterday, The captain who found you, Captain Angelton, called an emergency command meeting. He brought up some conclusions you had made when you spoke with him. Specifically the one about how there might be more to the merchant train raid than it simply being a target of opportunity. He showed us his memory of your interview. Due to that, I can make some educated guesses as to what happened next. ¡°Most likely, Central command looked into the possibility of an enemy force being hidden outside the city. The only reason Populators would be requested is in the event of a Noble house committing acts against the kingdom. Therefore, I would guess Central Command found something yesterday, or this morning. I am surprised that the Captial moved this quickly though. It¡¯s possible that someone was already aware of the situation and plans were in place. Either way, the most likely conclusion is that the Populators are here to expunge some traitors, and the army will be fighting whoever is hidden outside the walls. None of this has anything to do with us. Does that address your concerns?¡± Nick asked in a calming tone. Nero was a little surprised that all of this was a result of the merchant train massacre that spawned him. Overall, it seemed like it was being handled in an infuriatingly logical manner. Much more calm, Nero said, ¡°So when you were talking about ¡®burning out corruption¡¯ and all that stuff, you were being literal. I should have guessed. Do you guys even believe in gods?¡± ¡°Of course we believe in Gods. There are plenty of records of people ascending to godhood. There are churches to different Gods in the religious districts, along with shrines to this sector¡¯s Sovereign. Although Sovereigns aren¡¯t technically Gods, as they don¡¯t have a divinity, they are also worshiped,¡± Nick responded, sounding rather offended. ¡°Look Nero, I have 3 conversations going on right now. It takes too much focus to deal with your questions at the moment. I just wanted to let you know that you don¡¯t have to go to the army compound in the morning. Come to my office at 7 tomorrow and I¡¯ll have either David or Kendra answer whatever asinine questions you have then.¡± Nick then promptly cut the connection. Nero wasn¡¯t sure if he had offended Nick, or if he was just annoyed at Nero. Deciding that it didn¡¯t matter, Nero checked the time. ¡®OK¡­ it¡¯s almost 22. Which puts 7 tomorrow morning 15 hours away.¡¯ he thought, and tried to work out whether he should consider this night time. Looking out the window, he saw that the sun had recently set. ¡®Fuck it, I¡¯m hungry now. I¡¯ll just budget 10 hours for sleep. That gives me 4 hours to eat and do some more studying¡¯ Nero stood up and did some quick stretches to alleviate the remnants of his panic attack. Unpacking his satchel, he left for the cafeteria with just his book on essence manipulation. Walking through the dorms, there was a noticeably different atmosphere. People looked stressed. The lobby was rather empty, Ms. Averett wasn¡¯t at the front desk, and only a few people were at the Class hub. The fact that the Populators were here must have made it into the gossip mill. It was reassuring to see that something could crack the calm and polite atmosphere that usually permeated the Center. After getting his meal and sitting down, Nero didn¡¯t bother pulling out his book. He was going over the day, and how quickly everything changed with the arrival of the Populators. When he had woken up that morning, he thought he was starting to get a handle on this place. By the end of the day, he knew that he didn¡¯t even understand his identity. ¡®Isn¡¯t that just ironic in a very literal way,¡¯ he thought. Walking back to his room, he tried to come to terms with the fact that so much happened without his involvement. Nick had met with the Captain and they had talked about the merchant train massacre. Mrs. Salvatore dealt with the family of the guy whose body he took. Ms. Averett is off doing something. The Captain is off investigating an invasion. A lot of things happen in the background. ¡®Am I not the main character of my own story?¡¯ he wondered. Shutting the door to his room and tossing his satchel on his desk, Nero looked out the window onto the courtyard. He decided that he didn¡¯t feel like studying any more. Sighing, he went to take a shower and get ready for an early night. Eventually finding himself in bed, he stared at the ceiling. Arms crossed behind his head, Nero thought about his goals, and how unlikely they were. Wasn¡¯t Nick like 90 years old or something? Magic would take a lifetime of study. He could make a basic flame now, but it took effort. He idly pointed his right hand toward the ceiling and started manipulating the air to contain some streams of light. A small globe of weak light formed in the air. ¡®It doesn¡¯t matter how long it takes, I¡¯ll master this. Even if most of the important things happening have very little to do with me right now, eventually I¡¯ll make this story mine,¡¯ he swore to himself. Closing his hand in a fist, the light snuffed out. ¡®Ding¡¯ he heard the world call. The essence in the air around him sung, and his sheets flapped in the wind. He came down from the high of leveling and checked his identity.
Name Nero Walker Level 6
Race Human Growth 0%
Tier 1 Condition 100%
Age 14 Center 100%
Body 1 Mind 1
Soul 1 Confluence 10
Stars 2 Pillars 0/0
Going over his stat breakdowns, he saw that his level stress hadn¡¯t gone back down to zero, and his gains weren¡¯t calculated. He thought he remembered something about the stars being an essence infusion. ¡®So level has nothing to do with it,¡¯ he thought. Maybe the stars solidified the gains when they were used. It was also abundantly clear that he should start doing crunches.
Body 1
Base Operative Level Stress
Presence 9 10.8 1.5
Durability 7 8.4 0
Recovery 13 15.6 1
Speed 11 13.2 0
Adaptability 24 28.8 6.8
Power 8 9.6 0
Mind 1
Base Operative Level Stress
Weight 20 24 1.1
Control 21 25.2 4.8
Field 8 9.6 4.1
Precision 22 26.4 11.6
Endurance 26 31.2 15.6
Focus 6 7.2 8.2
Soul 1
Base Operative Level Stress
Size 26 31.2 0.1
Density 101 121.2 0.1
Intensity 76 91.2 0.1
Pressure 23 27.6 0.5
Harmony 3 3.6 1.6
Adaptability 270 324 0.1
No longer tired, Nero decided to do some more studying. He wouldn¡¯t get anywhere without putting in the work. Around three hours later, Nero was passed out at his desk. Chapter 26 - An adventure is what comes after deciding to get involved. Captain Angelton took a moment to strengthen his control on the surrounding essence. Firming his resolve, he opened the door, and walked into the large training room. A center walkway cut through the massive 100X50 units in space. Each of the walls, the floor, and even the ceiling were lined with reinforced ablatum (which is a steel derivative, created by enchanters to have a strong identity and be resistant to essence influence). Lining the side of the walkway were sections for training, each with a target and a display. The captain walked down the center path, already feeling the essence currents pushing into his psychic field. He watched the man he had come to meet as streams of destruction pummeled four separate targets from the center of the room. Colors were shifting like a kaleidoscope, and the wind was randomly changing directions. On top of the physical effects, the psychic pressure only added to the uncomfortable environment. The captain was around 30 feet away, when he decided to stop and just observe. The man looked like he was at the center of an essence storm. His bare chest covered in sweat, the man bounced around a 10 unit radius in perfect control of his movements. ¡®No wonder they label him as a tactical asset,¡¯ thought Captain Angelton as he tried to pretend he wasn¡¯t intimidated. Standing at 5¡¯10¡±, the man was not large. yet his presence couldn¡¯t be ignored from even 30ft. away. With his shoulder length black hair in a tight combat braid, and bright green eyes, he was utterly focused on his training. Angelton fought to hide his bubbling anger, as he could FEEL the man ignoring him. After a few minutes of watching the man continue to spin in place while sending spells hurtling toward the walls, he decided enough was enough. ¡°Specialist Howard, you haven¡¯t been replying to my pings,¡± he said loudly. Although the room was filled with the sounds of explosions and wind, he knew that the man had heard him. Like a weight being lifted from the room, the essence calmed down and Howard reigned in his psychic field. ¡°It¡¯s because I read them, and my ignoring you WAS the reply,¡± the man said as he pulled a towel out of his personal space. Wiping himself down, he walked over to the Captain with a casual disregard of rank. ¡°I¡¯m not going to train a newly awakened kid. If you want him to be a war mage, send him to Center-point like everyone else. He¡¯ll have to go there to be certified anyways. There are more productive ways for me to spend my time.¡± ¡°Did you even READ the file?¡± Angelton asked. ¡°I glanced at it.¡± was the reply. With a sigh, Captain Angelton gave up on trying to make Howard care about the assignment. ¡°General Branson wants the boy trained, and we¡¯re going to train him. You¡¯re who I¡¯ve chosen to teach him magic. You start tomorrow, check the hub for the schedule,¡± he ordered. Turning around without waiting for a reply, the captain walked away. When he was almost to the door, he felt the essence pick up again. As the explosions resumed, Angleton spoke in a normal voice to the room, ¡°You¡¯ll get along great, you¡¯re both assholes.¡± Shaking his head in resignation, he closed the door and left for his office. He had a great deal to get done, and not a lot of time in which to do it. Walking down the hall, his link received an urgent ping from command. Opening the ping, Captain Angelton¡¯s footsteps faltered. He had just received word that the Populators had arrived. ¡®Apparently, less than a full day of preparation is all we get,¡¯ he thought grimly. Immediately opening his link, he contacted every one of his sergeants. He needed his men to be ready to move at a moments notice. Increasing his speed, he saw the hallways fill with people in a heightened state of readiness. Instead of the calm controlled movements of trained soldiers going about their day, he saw that all of Gate 7 was preparing for war. ----- Nero woke up with a splitting headache. The pain in his head was so intense that he struggled to get his to his feet. ¡®Where the hell is this pressure coming from?¡¯ he wondered. Nero looked around the room for an answer. He must have fallen asleep reading those ridiculous guides on stat development. Techniques on how to maximize level stress were not very interesting. Realizing the problem, Nero focused on the connections trying to make contact through his link; so many connections. He reached out and willed the link to block all his pings. Blessed silence returned to his head and he took some deep breaths. ¡®I fucking knew these things were dangerous,¡¯ he thought as he ripped off his link which was still glowing. Standing up he decided to head to the lobby for some answers. After he put on his pants, Nero¡¯s mind started waking up. ¡®What if this isn¡¯t just happening to me? That many connections coming into the links will paralyze the cities communications. This is a denial of service attack. The hub is being hacked!¡¯ Nero thought with rising panic. Throwing on a robe without a shirt, he went to the window to see what was going on in the courtyard. There were associates and Wayfinders standing in groups, either being separated or searched. Men in armor with red tabards were apparently now in charge. They seem to be looking for something, and he could almost hear one of the men below his window shouting something. Carefully opening his window, Nero strained to hear what was going on. ¡°We just require the location of the Cosgrave brats. Anyone who gives them up will be rewarded after the transfer of power. You all know the accords, no one will hurt you if you don¡¯t cause trouble. Just tell us where they are¡­¡± The guy kept blathering while more and more people were led into the courtyard. It didn¡¯t seem like anyone was being mistreated. ¡®What are the accords?¡¯ Nero wondered with a frown. Without access to the link, he didn¡¯t think he¡¯d find out any time soon. This tale has been unlawfully obtained from Royal Road. If you discover it on Amazon, kindly report it. Stepping away from the window, Nero could already hear soldiers in the hall demanding that everyone leave their rooms peacefully. Nero lamented the fact that his link was now useless. Already he was addicted to the ease and availability of the information it provided. He needed to make a decision based on what he knew. Should he just go with the flow like everyone else? They didn¡¯t seem to be mistreating anyone. Paralyzed with indecision, Nero glanced through the window and watched as the guards in the courtyard continue their attempts to find the Cosgraves. From what he had heard, Nero realized the Cosgraves must be related to the nobles in charge of the city. Realizing that this is a kidnapping and ransom plot, he finally decided that he should stay out of it. As he began to calm down, the situation in the courtyard changed. A young woman was pushed by her companions toward one of the guards. She was a very aristocratic looking beauty, with long flowing auburn hair, and pale features that Nero could appreciate from his window. She was 20 years old, at most, and looked like a typical hot college chick. ¡®Back on earth she¡¯d have a ton of followers, but here she is like everyone else. People here are stupid hot,¡¯ Nero thought, as he watched the events play out through the window. Straightening her shoulders, the girl said, ¡°You won¡¯t find my brother, he spent the night at the keep.¡± The entire courtyard had gone quiet at her appearance, and Nero could easily hear the leader¡¯s reply. ¡°We may not have been able to specifically scry for you, but we were able to locate the last known location of his link. We know he was here when we brought down the hub. Don¡¯t worry Mistress Cosgrave, we¡¯ll find him,¡± he said, projecting his voice so the entire courtyard could hear his confidence. The man then motioned for the men flanking her to bind her hands. Nero felt bad for her plight, but there wasn¡¯t much he could do about it. His head snapped to the door as he heard the soldiers outside start banging on it. ¡°Open up! You won¡¯t be hurt if you don¡¯t resist.¡± With a sigh, Nero slipped on his boots and opened the door. Two large men reached in and roughly grabbed his arms. While they pulled him into the hallway, he saw other groups of soldiers searching the rooms for stragglers. Following directions with his head down, he saw all of his dorm mates doing the same. Their overlapping psychic fields were filled with worry, and it was starting to make Nero light headed. As he moved through the halls, he just tried to focus on following the person in front of him. By the time his group was at the elevators, Nero was finally getting his mind under control. He mentally prodded the fields around him, affirming his control and closing himself off from those around him. ¡®So that¡¯s what the books were talking about,¡¯ he thought. Controlling his own psychic field was easier than Nero thought. ¡®The mind directs the body¡¯s psychic field of control, and the soul is the medium the mind uses to sense the essence in the air,¡¯ he thought to himself. As he continued to play with his psychic field, he went over his conclusions, fitting them into a framework based on what he had read. Finally being led into the courtyard, Nero didn¡¯t see anyone he recognized. Looking around, he saw that the soldiers were in mismatched armor, with their only unifying feature being their red tabards. The enemy soldiers looked like everyone else, there were men and women, large and small. They didn¡¯t really look like soldiers at all. Even so, it was impressive that they were managing to guard the thousand or more associates with so few people. There were maybe a hundred of them, at most. Nero tried to not draw any attention to himself, but all this did was draw MORE attention from his captors. The guards for his group made sure he stayed in front and within arms reach. Annoyed, Nero just wanted to go back to bed. Just when Nero was really getting bored, he heard a ¡®crack¡¯. He looked over to see the lady from before on her knees with blood pouring from her lip. The guards around him chuckled, and the man who hit her was standing there, looking very pleased with himself. ¡®So much for not hurting anyone¡­. Assholes,¡¯ he thought with some venom. Nero was no longer bored, he was pissed. Here he was, in a new world. Yet, he hadn¡¯t changed, he was still one of the ¡®sheeple¡¯. Once again, he was standing shoulder to shoulder in a group, waiting for some asshole to tell him what to do. How long did it take him to forget his promise to be the main character in his own life? Hours¡­ it just took hours¡­ and an impromptu nap. Soon, a commotion could be heard across the courtyard. As everyone looked over to see what was happening, Nero saw the guard on his right, the one standing in front of him, turn around. There was a knife in a sheath horizontally strapped to his belt. Glancing to his left and right, no one seemed to be paying attention to Nero. ¡®Am I actually considering this?¡¯ he wondered; Nero was shocked at his newfound desire for relevance. The commotion was revealed to be caused by the other Cosgrave. The young man was bloody and beaten, with his hands tied behind his back. He was stumbling toward the center of the courtyard, while being pushed and prodded by happy guards. Nero made the decision that a knife wasn¡¯t a bad idea after all. Reaching out delicately, he unclasped the button holding the knife in place. With a ''pop'', the snap released. Nero quickly pulled his hands back to his sides, just as the guard turned around. Not making eye contact, he acted as if nothing had happened. Nero could only hope that the people around him didn¡¯t give him away. The guard looked over Nero¡¯s group and didn¡¯t seem to notice anything, so he turned back to the center to watch the show. Nero looked up and saw the knife waiting to be pulled free. Rubbing his fingers while mentally preparing for his planned theft, he glanced around one last time. His hand reached out and smoothly unsheathed the knife, then he immediately reversed his grip to hide it along his forearm. Looking around, Nero seemed to have gotten away with it. Although the girl standing next to him was looking at him like he was an idiot. Making sure the knife was hidden in the sleeve of his robe, Nero turned his attention back to the center of the courtyard. The drama was still going on. Both of the Cosgraves were on their knees, with the young lady trying her best to hug her brother while her hands were tied. Nero didn¡¯t think he had ever seen the emotion of despair before. He saw actors portray it, and he saw famous pictures of it, but he had never actually seen it in person. It was heartbreaking. ¡®I guess I¡¯m not as much of a sociopath as I thought,¡¯ Nero congratulated himself with hollow levity. Looking closely, Nero could see the man in charge talking to a crystal. It was apparently their method of communication. ¡®They must be using those, since they brought links down. This is well planned,¡¯ thought Nero. The man must have received new orders. Nero watched closely as the leader started giving out commands. The groups of Center-people were corralled along the sides, and a few guards picked up the Cosgraves and started marching them out of the courtyard toward the front lobby. The guards were more relaxed now that they had the Cosgraves in hand. So, Nero took advantage of the opportunity to move to the back of the courtyard, putting as many people between him and the guards as possible. While the center-people were being moved around, he looked for a way out of the courtyard. He needed an open window, or a grate. In fact, Nero would have settled for a tree. Not seeing an opportunity to wander off, he tried to slide along the wall. All of the ground floor windows were closed, and he didn¡¯t think he¡¯d be able to open them quietly. Right before the guards leading the Cosgraves to their fate left through the wide doors of the entrance, the man in charge turned around to address the whole courtyard. In a loud voice, probably boosted by essence, he shouted, ¡°This was a legal action, performed in accordance with the statutes governing Noble Wars. As none of you fought, you will be considered non-combatants.¡± He then addressed his soldiers, ¡°As for you lot, we¡¯ll get paid when we drop these two off. Don¡¯t let anyone leave until you hear from me. The city-guard and the army should still be occupied, but if either of them show up, you know what to do.¡± After concluding his little speech, he finished it off with a typical villain chuckle. Looking around at the thousand plus associates and wayfinders who looked resigned to their fates, Nero was annoyed. ¡®Is it just the Center that houses these peace loving self-help types? Isn¡¯t a huge part of their culture combat? Why on earth are they all just standing here and not fighting back. They outnumber these guys 10 to 1 at least. I bet Ms. Averett didn¡¯t go quietly. There is fighting happening somewhere, and I¡¯d bet my left nut that she is in the middle of it. I wonder what kind of magic she uses¡­ Wait! I know magic!¡¯ he remembered with a grin. Chapter 27 - Educational programs can save your life. Lord Dorchen was wearing his old combat robes and staring at his reflection. ¡®How did it come to this?¡¯ he thought with a sour expression looking back at him from the mirror. He had been so careful, everything would have been ready in two years. A lifetime¡¯s work to return the House of Dorchen to it¡¯s rightful place, ruined by chance. He felt the door to his study being opened. His aid walked in and spoke in a quiet voice, ¡°M¡¯lord, all available men have been brought in. I have confirmation that we can start on your signal. The way is clear to the Center, your son is at the Thought-hub, and our agents in the keep are ready to bring down the wards.¡± With a rueful smile, Lord Dorchen met the eyes of his long-time aid and asked, ¡°How are the preparations for ¡®Rebel House¡¯ coming?¡± Shaking his head, the aide responded, ¡°There hasn¡¯t been enough time. Lady Dorchen refuses to entertain the idea of leaving. The hidden production facilities haven¡¯t been taken down, and there is still a trail to be followed. If the Populators are allowed to investigate, it¡¯s game over.¡± ¡°Did we confirm what happened to our mages?¡± Lord Dorchen asked. ¡°Found by the military and the guards. They started with the mage who was responsible for hiding the arms shipments, from there they pulled the threads to find the rest. We haven¡¯t found out what prompted the investigation, but there is no one left who can get our men past the walls. We¡¯ll have to make do with the 1000 men on hand. In addition, I¡¯ve armed everyone under your employ in the city. The original plan called for 5000 men just for the center.¡± The aide finished in a whisper. Lord Dorchen nodded and said in a firm tone, ¡°I¡¯m aware. But desperate gambits are for desperate players. If we¡¯re lucky, 500 will be enough to collect the Cosgrave heirs. We¡¯ll need the rest to force the City Lord into defense. I¡¯ll have to be in the keep to maintain the challenge. Are our forces ready outside the gates? We¡¯ll need the army occupied.¡± With a sigh, the aide replied, ¡°Yes. The moment you declare, they¡¯ll be teleported into position. Are you certain you want to do this? There is no way they are unprepared.¡± Lord Dorchen straightened his back and turned to face his aide. Summoning the pride of Dorchen, he replied, ¡°We will bring down their communications the moment I declare. They won¡¯t have time to mount a defense. The Populators arrival forced my hand, but my resolve shall not waver. I will be the City Lord upon the new dawn. Our victory will buy us the time we need to scrub the evidence. The word is given, we begin in an hour.¡± Mustering up some courage, the aid replied with a stiff back, ¡°Yes, m¡¯lord. Your will be done.¡± Then he left to attend to the preparations. After hearing the door close, Lord Dorchen¡¯s shoulders sagged as he looked back to the mirror. He had just needed another two years. ----- Behind Nero was a window he could get through, if it were open. He may not know a lot of spells, but he could manipulate essence.. Closing his eyes, he probed his surroundings with his mind. Finding the latches at the top and bottom of the 4 foot wide window, he decided to start on the bottom. Pulling on the strings of heat floating in the air was easy as breathing by now. He packed the ambient heat into the latch, feeding it more and more. Unfortunately, while the latch was heating up, too much heat was dissipating back into the air. Releasing his control he thought, ¡®This isn¡¯t working.¡¯ Nero decided to try the spell form that was used to gather water from the air. He¡¯d just substitute heat in the parts where there was usually water. As he focused, he could feel the latch and the surrounding parts of the window give in and start melting. Since his eyes were closed, and he was facing away, he didn¡¯t realize that a foot wide ball of fire had materialized directly on top of the latch. The surrounding air was being sucked in and caused everyone in the area to turn around to see what the hell was going on. Luckily, everyone recognized what was happening, and decided to ignore it. In fact, when Nero¡¯s attention shifted to the latch near the top, he realized that someone had opened it somehow. He looked around, and everyone was pointedly ignoring him. Aside from the disapproval in the air, no one seemed to be paying any attention to him. Slowly ducking down to hide his movements behind the crowd, Nero got to see his handiwork with his own eyes. He had completely obliterated the lower latch, not to mention that he had melted and warped a good portion of the window. Glancing at the upper latch, he wondered ¡®How the hell did they do that?¡¯ The answer came to him as if he heard Nick berating him for being an idiot. ¡®Telekinesis, I could have just grabbed the latch with my mind¡­. God damn it.¡¯ He reached out with his mind, and he could feel the window. It was pathetically easy to slide open the window. He scurried through the window and closed it behind him. Feeling like a moron, he buried his shame and went through the room to the door. ¡®Okay, I¡¯m free. Now what?¡¯ he thought as he went through his options. He could either try to find Nick, Mrs. Salvatore, or maybe try to find the army and help them. The two Cosgrave kids were probably closest. They didn¡¯t have much of a lead on him. ¡®I made the decision to do something. I¡¯m not going to bitch out now. Stopping them from taking those kids, even if they''re college kids, counts as something. It¡¯s time to be a main character in my own story,¡¯ Nero reassured himself. This story has been taken without authorization. Report any sightings. Checking the hallway for soldiers, he hurried towards the front of the building. He had to dodge a patrol by clenching his psychic field tight and hiding behind a pedestal holding some big ass vase, but eventually he got there. Rather than going out the front, he went into a room with a window into the lobby. The five guards were standing there waiting for something, and the Cosgraves were still bound. Realizing that he was late, Nero tried to come up with a plan. Looking around the room, he didn¡¯t have any good ideas. His eyes found a nice shield on the wall with two swords behind it. Walking over, he tried to pull the shield off the wall, and the entire plaque that it was attached to came with it. With a ¡®CRASH¡¯ the entire display fell to the ground. The sound broke the silence so completely that Nero just stood there like a cat that knocked over a lamp. Snapping out of it, he crouched down and went to peak at the lobby through the window. There were now only 3 guards with the Cosgraves and the man in Charge was looking toward the window he was hiding behind. Nero berated himself for not blocking the door, or at least setting a trap. His mind was filled with images of enemies being blown up while opening doors. All of the sudden, Nero had an incredibly dumb idea. He hid behind the desk and closed his eyes. He expanded his mind to feel as much of the room as possible. Managing to feel the door being forced open, Nero reached out to the guards that were coming into the room. He couldn¡¯t get a hold of them. It was like they carried a bubble of uncontrollable essence with them. They stopped in the middle of the room and looked around. ¡®That¡¯s their field of control,¡¯ he thought. He didn¡¯t need to control them though, he just had to stop them. Nero weaved a spellform to collect air and heat as tightly as he could directly between the two blurry clouds of essence. After a second or two, he felt it was hot enough, so he kept pushing air into it. Enough air in an enclosed space will expand as he heats it. He heard one of them say, ¡°You feel that?¡± Deciding that it was time, he started focusing on the temperature, giving it his all. When he felt his nose start to bleed, he let go. His sigh of relief was followed by a ¡®Boom¡¯ that caused the room to shake. Peaking over the top of the desk, Nero was shocked. The center of the room was destroyed. And the explosion covered a 10 foot radius. The two guards were embedded in opposite walls, they weren¡¯t moving. ¡®That¡¯s physics in action I guess. I just made a poor man¡¯s fuel air bomb. Who knew a youth spent throwing cans of beer into the fire would lead to this,¡¯ he thought with a grin. Nero walked over to take a closer look at the result of his first combat spell. The guards were very dead. Feeling a chill, he thought, ¡®How would I stop someone from doing that to me?¡¯ As he pondered how to combat an enemy mage, he heard call from the hall. ¡°What the hell was that? You guys OK?¡± Nero returned to the window for a peak, now there was just one guard and the man in charge. He cocked his head and thought, ¡®There is no way this works twice.¡¯ Finding an unbroken chair on the back wall, he placed it in the center of the room. Nodding to himself, he called out in a raspy voice, ¡°Hey, get in here and look at this chair.¡± Hiding behind the desk, Nero tried to repeat his performance. Closing his eyes and feeling for the chair, he set the spell form right above the cushion. Going slowly, he started gathering heat and air while waiting for his prey. He felt them pause at the door. Soon enough, they slowly walked into the room, and right up to the chair. One of them even whispered to the other, ¡°You feel that?¡± This time Nero covered his ears while he poured as much air and heat into his spell form before he lost control. Opening his eyes, he realized that this bomb shattered the window in addition to the two guards. ¡®Holy shit!¡¯ he thought as he admired the results of his hard work. He wiped his bloody nose on his robe, and walked back to the center of the room. Suddenly, he sensed fury coming from his left. Nero looked over to see an incredibly pissed Soldier staring at him through the destroyed window. Feeling cheeky, he said, ¡°It was like this when I got here.¡± And then he bolted for the door. Nero could feel the man hop through the window and give chase. Instead of running down the hall, Nero closed off his presence and focused it on the door. Waiting around the corner, he got his stolen knife ready. ¡®This is just like clothes lining someone chasing you around a corner. You got this,¡¯ he said to himself. The man turned the corner with a sword in his hand, but ran directly into Nero, who already had his knife at chest level, and was braced for the impact. As they collided, Nero fell back with the full weight of a running man in chain mail falling on top of him. The man was twice Nero¡¯s size, and bracing his feet for the impact did nothing. The sound of the sword sliding down the hall was the only good thing that resulted from the collision. Nero pushed the man off and hoped to find his knife in the man¡¯s chest, but he only saw a ripped tabard. ¡®Fucking chain mail. Of course a soldier will have armor,¡¯ he thought sourly, as he scrambled to his feet. Setting his feet and raising his fists for the fight of his life, Nero braced himself expecting to be tackled. However, when he looked over, he saw the man comfortably taking a knee. Amused eyes stared at Nero, while the man¡¯s hand wiped down the front of his chest like he was removing dirt. ¡°Boy, what the hell happened to my men?¡± the man asked while standing up. There was a flash of light from one of his hands, and his lost sword was returned. Nero had played enough games to recognize a boss fight when he saw one. Taking the opportunity for some dialogue, he tried to split his focus. While he was visualizing an essence bomb behind the guys back, he said, ¡°I¡¯m pretty sure one of them was a lady, dude.¡± ¡°Last chance. Where are my men? What happened in the room, and what caused the explosion?¡± the man said, while lowering his chin and getting ready to charge. The man began to emit a red aura, and seemed to be powering up or something. With a glazed expression on his face, blood began pouring from his nose, ears, and eyes and Nero muttered, ¡°When you get to whatever afterlife they have here, tell people that I said something cool.¡± and then he collapsed. The man had just enough time to utter, ¡°Huh?¡± before the essence bomb went off behind him. He shot across the hall face first into the wall. Had Nero been conscious, he would have been very proud. Chapter 28 - It wasnt me, Im going back to bed. The plan was working. They had made it into the keep through the maintenance gate without issue. His men had done as promised, and cleared the guards. No one knew they were on the inside. Lord Dorchen¡¯s palms were covered in sweat, he couldn¡¯t seem to slow his heart rate. Every second he waited for the ping was panic inducing. Finally, it came. ¡®We¡¯re in position to take the Center, we have confirmation that the heirs are on site. Awaiting the command.¡¯ said the team leader tasked with acquiring the Cosgrave children. He looked around at the eyes of his men, and saw their determination. The smell of the stables they were hiding in, couldn¡¯t cover the stench of weapon oil and leather. They¡¯d been preparing for this moment for years. Firming his resolve, his heart beat finally slowed, and he knew it was time. Opening his link, he sent the official challenge for the seat of City Lord. Immediately after, he sent out the signal for all his teams to begin their assignments. Two seconds later, all the links in the room lit up, and Lord Dorchen knew his son had succeeded in cutting off the city¡¯s communications. ¡®Now it¡¯s my turn,¡¯ he thought. ¡°All right men, it¡¯s time for us to do our part. Remember, we isolate her in the throne room, and this war is as good as ours,¡± he said loudly. Turning toward the doors, he joined his men as they surged toward the castle. There was no one to impede their journey through the gates, the guards were obviously busy dealing with the city wide link disruption. Everything was going to plan. As he and his men were almost through the large entryway, the gate at the entrance slammed shut. The giant metal monstrosity was shockingly loud as it dug into the ground. Its impact did more than just injure several soldiers, the gate effectively kept half of his force outside the castle. Along the balcony, guards poured out carrying crossbows glowing with enchanted bolts. Lord Dorchen and his men watched as the doors along the walls slammed shut, sealing them in. City Lord Heleema Cosgrave stood tall on the balcony at the end of the entryway, surrounded by her forces. With an essence assisted voice, her words echoed through the room. ¡°Lord Dorchen, your challenge is accepted. I assumed you¡¯d bring a larger force, my preparations may be a bit much. Regardless, order your forces to stand down. Concede defeat and you¡¯ll be turned over to the Populators, otherwise you¡¯ll die here and now.¡± Looking around, Dorchen realized it was over. Even if his men got the heirs, it wouldn¡¯t matter. Either he fought to the death here, or he surrendered and the Populators executed him for treason. He was finished. Without options, he met the stare of the City Lord. ¡°Congratulations, and may your path remain wide and clear.¡± He said to an entryway shrouded in silence. With those final words, he activated his escape cloak. It cost more than a mansion in the inner ring, but you can¡¯t spend money when you¡¯re dead. With a golden ¡®pop¡¯, he disappeared. ----- Nero awoke to the site of a bruised ponce shaking him. ¡°Are you alright?¡± the young man asked. ¡°I¡¯m fine¡­ did it work?¡± Nero asked, while raising himself to his elbows and looking around. The hallway was destroyed. The wall closest to the bomb had collapsed, and over his shoulder he saw the remains of the former guy-in-charge painted across the wall. He muttered, ¡°I should have woken up in a hospital.¡± Nero heard a voice quietly ask, ¡°Ask him if he knows where the mage went?" Noticing a head of auburn hair on his left, he realized these must be the Cosgroves. ¡°What mage? And What happened to the last guard?¡± he asked, trying to force his brain to start working again. The young man who had forced him awake said, ¡°We took care of the last guard. We need to know what happened to the mage that killed these men. Is he a Wayfinder that didn¡¯t hold to the accords? What can you tell us about him?¡± Realizing that they didn¡¯t know he was responsible for their freedom, he almost blurted out that he was the mage. But, something in the way the young man phrased the question caused Nero to hold off on taking credit. Feigning a look of confusion, Nero replied, ¡°Why do you ask?¡± The siblings exchanged a glance. Then the brother replied, ¡°If he broke the accords we¡¯d have to know his reason. There is a lot going on that you commoners aren¡¯t privy too. If he belongs to a rival house, we¡¯d have to offer compensation. It is not a good sign that he ran off after causing this much death and destruction. It¡¯s a good thing that you¡¯re covered in blood, and look the way you do. He must have thought you would be dead soon, or maybe he just wasn¡¯t paying attention. Regardless, if he realized you were alive, you may have become his victim as well.¡± He stood up and looked around the hallway. The young man added as an afterthought, ¡°We wouldn¡¯t have noticed you were alive either, if it weren¡¯t for my sister. She is a prodigy in the field of psychic detection.¡± The lady walked over and looked down at Nero who was still sitting on the ground. ¡°Were you awake when the mage was here? Did you see them?¡± she asked while staring at Nero. Stolen story; please report. Nero had a massive headache, and all his joints were sore. He was way too close to that last bomb. Deciding that he was no longer in the mood to play hero, Nero stood up and said, ¡°I didn¡¯t see a mage. Do the hallways or offices have cameras?¡± The two of them traded glances again, this time the girl shook her head and shrugged. The man turned to Nero and replied, ¡°There aren¡¯t any visual recording devices here¡­. Who are you?¡± Nero had waited two lifetime¡¯s to say this line, ¡°No one of consequence.¡± he chuckled to himself, causing his headache to flair up. Wincing in pain, Nero said, ¡°Look, we need to get out of the hallways. Do you have any ideas on where we can contact the guard, or better yet the army?¡± The two nodded in unison, then started walking toward the lobby. The woman started talking like she just assumed Nero would follow behind her while listening intently. ¡®Fucking rich people are multi-dimensional constants. Just like staples and silverware,¡¯ Nero thought to himself while following along. ¡°The closest safe zone should be the Gate 7 army compound. Gate defenses are required to remain active at all times, even during a Noble war. No one is crazy enough to break that rule, especially with the Populators here,¡± said the sister. ¡°Wasn¡¯t it a violation to mess with the links? Who do you think declared?¡± The man asked his sister while they crept through the hallway. Walking down the middle of the hallway without care, Nero just watched them acting like ninjas. He was tired, and he needed sleep. All in all, he was done playing Die-Hard. Stopping in place and putting his hands on his hips. Nero interrupted their quiet mutterings, ¡°OK, you guys are safe now. I have no idea what you guys are talking about, but I also don¡¯t really care. Good luck with your war, I¡¯m going to bed.¡± As he started to turn around, he heard them both protest. ¡°Aren¡¯t you coming with us?¡± and ¡°Didn¡¯t you already declare for our side?¡± both questions meant nothing to him, and he just kept walking off. Suddenly a large Silver man appeared a few feet off to the side, rippling into existence. Nero hopped back and immediately tried to cast, only to find the essence in the area completely out of his control. As the man stood there like a statue, the two Cosgrave¡¯s bowed and greeted the newcomer. ¡°Champion,¡± they said in awe. Completely Silver, with a featureless face and a glowing crown. The only thing that wasn¡¯t silver was his ornate white and gold tabard. He was as large as Captain Angelton and twice as intimidating. Turning his head to Nero, the silver man said in a deep, quiet voice that filled the hallway, ¡°You were the last active declared combatant. With your decision to retire, no more points can be accrued.¡± The champions head swiveled to the Cosgraves. ¡°Thanks to this young man, and your efforts defeating the remaining guard, you two will be recorded as finishing this Noble war as free and active, with one escape to your credit. No points will be awarded for making it to a safe zone. As your side is the victor, you are safe from sanctions,¡± he said, and the Cosgraves both visibly sagged in relief. Nero was unable to comprehend how the man was there. He was so used to sensing people¡¯s impact on the ambient essence that he felt like he was staring at something that didn¡¯t exist. ¡°Um¡­. My lord? Can I¡­ go?¡± Swiveling his head back to Nero, he said in an even tone, ¡°Yes Mr. Walker, you are free to leave. If you need medical attention the Center facilities will resume operation shortly.¡± Already walking backward down the hall the moment he heard ¡®Yes¡¯, Nero held up his hands. ¡°Nope, I¡¯m all good. Just gonna hit the hay. Great war by the way. Totally made sense. Happy to be a part of it. Hope to never see you again,¡± he said in a happy tone, then turned and started running. Nero only slowed when he started seeing associates walking around with their smiles back. They gave him weird looks as he walked down the hall covered in shrapnel and blood. He could hear them talking about their experiences during the Noble War, and discussing the posted results. It seemed the links were up and working again. Since Nero had left his link in his room, and he had no desire to talk to anyone, he would have to temporarily live in ignorance. Finally closing his door, Nero leaned his back against it. He embraced the silence of his room. Unfortunately, he could feel his link on his desk demanding his attention with urgent messages. With a sigh, he walked over and picked up his link. It felt like he could connect to it without even putting it to his temple. The moment he did so, his headache flared, and he cut the connection. Willing it to ignore even urgent messages, he tossed it back on his desk. The messages could wait for the morning. He started stripping off his clothes while walking toward the bathroom for a hot shower. Catching his reflection in the mirror, he was shocked. He had blood trails from the corner of his eyes, his ears, and his mouth looked like he had tried to eat something raw. ¡®I must have popped a blood vessel or two from the shock waves,¡¯ he thought. Washing his face in the sink, he could feel ripped skin from small pieces of shrapnel. He took a close look at his face and his hands to make sure that he didn¡¯t have any slivers of wood that he¡¯d have to pull out. Other than scrapes and a rather jagged scratch on his left forearm, he seemed alright; aside from a seriously pale complexion and alarmingly dark circles around his eyes. Stepping into the shower, his muscles loosened under the steaming water. Going over his fights, he realized that all the damage he had taken was from being near the bombs he had set off. Nero decided it might be a good idea to get a book on combat casting, sooner rather than later. In retrospect, it probably wasn¡¯t a good idea to fight with adapted household spells. ¡®Although, my bombs did their job,¡¯ he thought. His thoughts couldn¡¯t help but return to the fact that he had actually done it. He had gotten involved in the story. As a result, he had killed people. Granted they were assholes. They were responsible for kidnapping and trying to overthrow the government. Nero wondered if he should feel bad? ¡®Fuck it, I¡¯m not going to waste my time second guessing my actions. I DID something. I saw something I thought was bullshit and did something about it. If people have a problem with it, they can lodge a complaint. I¡¯m no longer going to be a complainer, I¡¯m going to be a do¡¯er¡­.. wait, I don¡¯t think that¡¯s a word,¡¯ he thought while luxuriating under the hot water. Eventually, Nero got out of the shower, did his business, brushed his teeth, and headed to bed. Idly checking the time, and finding that it was 4 in the morning, he tried to reach out to his link from the bed. He could almost connect, but it was too far away. Grunting, he got up and used the link to confirm his stance on ignoring his pings and made sure to turn off the alarm he had set. After making sure his window was covered with the drapes, he was finally ready to put this crap-of-a-day behind him. Chapter 29 - Called to the principals office. Sitting in a room designed to observe armies, thirteen mages were drinking and eating while arguing about their favorite subject. On a large holographic display was Nero walking through the halls with Sergeant Blackwood. The table the mages shared was large, but they had replaced the chairs with their personal preferences. One of them had set a small auditory illusion to play background music for ambiance. ¡°Fine!¡± Jennings shouted, interrupting the rooms private conversations. ¡°All those who think he¡¯ll break level ten within a year raise your hands.¡± 7 hands shot up. ¡°So you five think he won¡¯t.¡± Jennings stared at them like they had insulted his favorite webcomic. One of the mages put down his mug. ¡°None of us are saying the boy isn¡¯t amazing. We¡¯re just saying that it is likely that the increased leveling speed is a result of the experiences that came with the mind remnant from the original soul. That experience has to run out eventually, he¡¯ll have to contend with the leveling speed drop off that everyone faces,¡± he said in a firm tone, clearly stating his perfectly reasonable analysis. Jennings just nodded, and replied in an equally calm tone, ¡°That¡¯s a simplistic interpretation of the facts, worthy of a simpleton. You all saw his initial readings. To say that the mind remnant is responsible for his leveling speed isn¡¯t wrong, but it¡¯s incomplete. He is leveling quickly, not only because of residual experience, but because of how DIFFERENT those experiences are. Who knows what he¡¯s seen, or how those experiences have shaped who he is. It¡¯s the lens through which he sees the world which is truly responsible for his leveling speed. And that ladies and gentlemen is why he won¡¯t slow down as much as you think.¡± The entire room took a minute to ruminate on the arch-mage¡¯s words. One of the mages broke the silence, ¡°Replay the part where he threatened us with destruction if we got in his way. The look in his eyes was amazing. He is starting to understand how much work he has in front of him, and he doesn¡¯t care at all!¡± Another piped in, ¡°His eyes were intense. I haven¡¯t seen a look that fierce since the Bedlam vs. Chandler arena fight. Remember that one? The determination could be felt through the scry.¡± One voice drowned the others out, ¡°No. Replay the fight during the Noble War. I still can¡¯t figure out how he determined the ratio of air to heat essence. Not to mention, why didn¡¯t he hold the spell together with a containment form, why rely on his psychic field? It was insane, he almost killed himself.¡± Most of them laughed at the memory of Nero¡¯s last words before he passed out. Jennings manipulated the screen, while making sure the recording of current events was still happening. ¡°I don¡¯t think he knows the containment spell form. He was just using whatever he had available in his knowledge base. If you look closely, you can see that it was an adapted condensation spell form. People use that to fill their tea kettles in the field. The fact that he could use his psychic field with that kind of precision before level 30 is the real matter worth studying.¡± His words were met with nods and small conversations, as the recording of the Noble War replaced the current hologram. ¡°Alright, quiet everyone! It¡¯s starting, he just woke up. Look closely and you can see the moment he realizes that it was his link which was causing the pressure on his psychic field.¡± Jennings said causing the room to fall silent. ----- Nero was shocked awake by something trying to enter his head¡­ again. Glancing at the edges of the curtains, he realized that the sun was up. ¡®So it¡¯s been a few hours. It could be worse,¡¯ he thought to himself. The realization that it was 12:15 came unbidden, forcing that fact into his brain. ¡®Stupid Time-sense!¡¯ Nero groused at the intrusive thought. Rolling out of bed, he stretched his back, and ignored the link that was trying to get his attention. ¡®I thought I put that damn thing on silent,¡¯ he thought as he scratched his ass and walked to the bathroom. 30 minutes later, Nero finally decided that he was ready to address whatever it was that was SO important. Freshly showered and finished with his morning rituals, he walked over to the desk. As he got closer to the desk, he found that he had no problem connecting to his link without actually having to put it on. So he just sat in his chair, put his hands behind his head and closed his eyes. It seems he still had a bunch of messages from the night before waiting for him. This morning was a series of urgent pings from Captain Angelton. Rather than reading them, he decided to just ping him. The moment the connection opened, Nero felt the Captain¡¯s annoyance. ¡°Good morning Captain, I saw you called. What can I do for you today?¡± Nero said in a cheery voice. ¡°Urgent means important Nero. I¡¯m well aware that you were ignoring me. That is very rude, and considering the events of last night, it is also very stupid,¡± said the Captain, his tone cold enough to chill Nero¡¯s blood. ¡°Well, I had set my link to ignore all pings. I just assumed it was broken again. By the way, who was it that told me that links couldn¡¯t be weaponized? I swear he was someone I used to respect. I just can¡¯t think of the name. Eh, I¡¯m sure it will come to me. So, what was it you needed so urgently?¡± Nero responded in a mocking tone. Keeping his tone cold, the Captain said ¡°Your presence is required at the army compound. The military can ignore privacy settings if the matter is deemed urgent. The links are working fine. If we didn¡¯t know you were in your room, we would have already sent someone to collect you. Come to the gates, I¡¯ll have someone waiting for you. You have 20 minutes.¡± He then cut the connection. ¡®Well, he¡¯s pissed. That¡¯s fine, I¡¯m pissed too,¡¯ Nero thought. Picking up his link, he put it on his temple. He¡¯d need it for directions to the army compound. After getting dressed, Nero left his room while making sure he had all his books in his satchel. He assumed that when he got there some ponce would have him wait somewhere. It was 13:15 and the hallways were empty. Nero didn¡¯t remember when he went to bed, but he felt much better than he thought he would after all that happened. ¡®I should just check the damn identity,¡¯ he reminded himself.
Name Nero Walker Level 6
Race If you stumble upon this narrative on Amazon, be aware that it has been stolen from Royal Road. Please report it. Human Growth 9%
Tier 1 Condition 87%
Age 14 Center 98%
Body 1 Mind 1
Soul 1 Confluence 10
Stars 2 Pillars 0/0
¡®Well my condition isn¡¯t as bad as I feared. But 9% growth? Isn¡¯t that too low? Do I still have to ¡®process¡¯ the experience or whatever that stupid book said?¡¯ Nero wondered. Thinking back, he leveled last night and then he did some studying. After a brief unintentional nap, he had his adventure. There he did a bunch of sneaking, pick-pocketed a knife, even had some combat. He killed 5 guards solo, does that not count for experience? ¡®I had a boss fight! I deserve a level at least,¡¯ he thought with a grimace. If it wasn¡¯t the fighting, then what caused his growth? He couldn¡¯t figure out this ¡®growth¡¯ system at all. The books said that ¡®a person¡¯s growth is a result of incorporating into their center the following: information gained, utilization of skills and abilities, observations, and reflections. Work your body, mind, and soul to grow.¡¯ To Nero, that just meant that anything you do will cause you to gain experience. Unfortunately, walking the halls and taking the elevator didn¡¯t help him figure anything out. By the time he finally went through the front of the Center, he realized that he wasn¡¯t going to suddenly understand anything, so he decided to just ignore it. The roads were exactly like he remembered. Identical to how they looked when the captain dropped him off at the Center. Nero enjoyed walking through the crowds and soaking up the atmosphere. He realized that this was the first time he had left the Center since he got here. These people seemed more REAL than those in the Center. Nero could see people arguing with merchants, and some people even moved like they were late for something. The entire experience was refreshing. Although everyone was still polite, it wasn¡¯t that suffocating polite that the Center had going on. Eventually, he reached the entrance of the Gate 7 army compound. Nero expected to see some damage to the walls, or some signs of fighting at least. Surprisingly, everything looked fine. The soldiers on duty seemed fine. There were no signs that they fought off an army the night before. ¡°Mr. Walker!¡± he heard. Nero turned to see the guy who was with the Captain when he was found at the merchant train. ¡°Blackwood, right? Do I call you mister or am I supposed to use something else?¡± Nero asked the man as they met at the gate. ¡°Sergeant Blackwood. Regular army is either called by rank or by the appellation ¡®Defender¡¯. Oh, and guards are just called ¡®guard¡¯. They don¡¯t like being called Defenders,¡± he said with a smile. Gesturing with his hand out, he ushered Nero through the gate. Blackwood gave the guard station a nod as they passed through. ¡°So what¡¯s this meeting about? And more importantly, is there food around?¡± Nero asked ¡°I¡¯m sorry, but I¡¯ll be taking you directly to the Captain. I don¡¯t know why he wants you, but he said to bring you straight there,¡± Blackwood said as he directed Nero through the compound. The entire place seemed like ¡®business as usual¡¯. Everyone was focused on their jobs, and it was obvious to Nero that no one was suffering from the events of last night. ¡°What happened last night? Didn¡¯t you guys fight a war or something?¡± Nero asked. ¡°I wouldn¡¯t call that a war. We met the rebels in the field, well outside the walls. There was more blustering than actually fighting. In fact, the only place that saw any action was at the keep, and even that was light combat I heard,¡± Blackwood said as they walked through the halls. Before Nero could press for more information, they had arrived at a pair of doors that seemed to be their destination. ¡°I¡¯ll be right outside while you¡¯re in there. Since you¡¯re here today, after your meeting I¡¯ll get you set up with what you¡¯ll need for classes and show you where the cafeteria is,¡± he said as he opened the door for Nero to go in. Nero heard a quiet, ¡°Good Luck¡± as he went through. Walking in, Nero saw a typical conference room. There was a large table with 5 chairs to each side. In the center of the table, there were even some water pitchers along with glasses arranged in a circle. The walls of the room had some military themed art. The only surprising thing in the room were the occupants. Nero¡¯s eyes barely glanced toward Captain Angelton before he was surprised by who he was with. She looked like a mini-version of the Champion he had met last night. Her entire body was coated in a thin film of silver. It was obviously some special kind of armor, but it wasn¡¯t thick like plate-mail. Nero thought it was only as thick as a wet-suit, and probably even thinner in some places. Her gauntlets and greaves looked a little thicker, but not much. She had no discernible face, and the only thing on her head was a thin ring that resembled a slightly glowing crown. Covering her upper body and most of her legs was an ornate white and gold tabard, belted with a thick silver cord. She didn¡¯t have any discernible weapons, but considering everyone with some levels had a pocket space, that didn¡¯t mean anything. Overall, she looked like a 5¡¯5¡± techno-organic knight from a sci-fi/fantasy tabletop game. ¡°Um¡­ Hi. This might be a rude question, but why can¡¯t I feel you in the room. Are you a robot of some kind?¡± Nero couldn¡¯t help but ask. Her presence was so muted, that he felt like she didn¡¯t exist. ¡®It seems I¡¯ve gotten used to being able to feel a person¡¯s psychic field,¡¯ he thought. ¡°My mind is my own young man,¡± she replied in a surprisingly human voice. ¡°The word ¡®robot¡¯ evokes a feeling that you meant an automaton without a mind or soul. Interesting, I suppose they could be useful for industrial applications; where care and attention aren¡¯t required.¡± The Champion turned to Captain Angelton and said, ¡°You said the boy will ask simple questions with complicated answers, but this isn¡¯t sage-like wisdom. It¡¯s intelligent ignorance.¡± Nero couldn¡¯t tell if he should be offended. Walking around the table, she moved toward Nero and said, ¡°I would like you to open your mind to me, I would see where you came from.¡± Immediately backing up to the wall, Nero held up his hands. ¡°And I would like to respectfully tell you to go fuck yourself, you¡¯ll get into my head over my dead body. MY mind is my own old woman.¡± he replied with venom. ¡°You feel threatened? Why?¡± she asked while pausing, then immediately took a step back. She was treating Nero like a frightened animal, and Nero did not like it one bit. ¡°What do you mean WHY? You just said you wanted to mind rape me,¡± shouted Nero. He turned to the captain and asked, ¡°Who is this chick? Is she one of the Populators? I thought they were here for some nobles. I mean, that¡¯s what I figured out, no one told me.¡± The Captain just looked amused. It just made Nero more annoyed. Holding up his hands, he said, ¡°Calm down. Yes, she is a Populator, and they are here to investigate a disruption to the realm. This Populator is,¡± he gestured to the lady who was waiting patiently a few feet away. ¡°Champion Charity. She recognized you as being the source of an anomaly from the upper planes which was felt by the mages in the Capital. The anomaly happened when you arrived here. She believes that you come from outside our sector of space. She was just trying to help you, there is no reason to be so defensive.¡± ¡°The Captain is correct. I did not mean to frighten you, young one. I merely wished to provide you with some answers. Reading the remnants of whatever mind used to accompany your soul shouldn¡¯t be difficult. The opportunity will remain until I leave here. Let us move on from this topic. How have you found our world?¡± the strange silver lady asked. Taking a minute to calm down, Nero realized that the Populator didn¡¯t mean any harm. To her, going into someone¡¯s mind was like therapy. Mentally trying to focus on her question, Nero asked himself, ¡®What DO I think about my experiences so far?¡¯ Chapter 30 - Some answers arent helpful. Lord Heleema Cosgrave sat on her throne, displaying to all that she had achieved victory. The halls of the throne room were filled with nobles waiting for the city-lord to dispense her will. The War had lasted twenty minutes, and all the noble house heads had been forcibly teleported to the throne room at the conclusion to witness the results. A Noble War, especially one overseen by Populators, was a rare event, and protocol must be followed to the letter. The room was silent in anticipation of the city-lord''s address. Noting the heavy atmosphere, Lord Cosgrave barely raised her voice, and relied on essence to address her subjects. ¡°I hereby declare an end to this Noble War. With vi -¡± ¡°The Noble War has not concluded,¡± Champion Charity interrupted from the side of the room. She was backed up by three of her Populators, standing in a row like statues of liquid silver. The room erupted with questions. ¡°Silence!¡± Lord Cosgrave¡¯s voice ripped through the throne room, returning quiet to the room. Turning her stern visage to the Populator, she simply said, ¡°Please elaborate Champion.¡± Champion Charity nodded, and stepped forward to address the audience. ¡°As the link system is currently unusable, there are still pockets of activity that fall under the conditions of the noble war. The Gate 7 Center is currently being assaulted by mercenaries, and Dorchester''s army is still in the field. Until communications have been restored, those areas are still in play,¡± she said. Seeing the Lord¡¯s face pale at the mention of the Gate 7 Center, she clarified, ¡°I understand that your heirs are there. However, until either a relief force is sent to accept the Dorchen force¡¯s surrender, or communication is restored and the enemy force submits upon learning of their loss, they are still active pieces. ¡°If it eases your mind, the Dorchen forces seem to be trying to capture your heirs, not kill them. That is all I¡¯m allowed to say at the moment, even that could be construed as help, so be thankful and put away your scowl.¡± Champion Charity finished with her voice wrapped in ice. The City Lord reigned in her anger at the situation. Gesturing to Head Guard Dalton, she said, ¡°I want a detachment of guards dispatched with a writ detailing Dorchen¡¯s defeat sent to the Gate 7 Center as soon as possible. You¡¯ll have to ride, as the lower Gate 7 astra-platforms would be locked down and the wards charged when the communications went out.¡± As Head Guard Dalton went to work, Lord Cosgrave addressed the nobles, ¡°It seems we have a bit of a wait. Please enjoy the hospitality of the keep until such time as the Noble War comes to its inevitable conclusion.¡± ----- Captain Angelton and Champion Charity waited patiently for Nero to calm down. He took some deep breaths and pondered the Champion¡¯s question. ¡®What DO I think about this world?¡¯ he wondered. Nero walked to the opposite side of the room and took a seat at the table. ¡°In a word? Confusing. I understand what everyone says, but the context isn¡¯t there. Every question I get answered just creates more questions. And I¡¯m constantly finding myself in situations that make no sense. Like why are you dressed like that? I¡¯m guessing your armor is special? Does your crown mean that you''re royalty? What do the different tabards mean? Just walking into this room put me on edge. It¡¯s exhausting,¡± he said with a sigh. As Nero talked, he poured himself some water from the pitchers in the center of the table. ¡°A better question is why you woke me up for this? Why am I here?¡± Nero asked, now slouching in his chair with a confused look on his face. ¡°That would be my fault,¡± said Champion Charity. ¡°I told Captain Angelton that I would like to meet you while I was here. Currently, the other champions are attending to their assigned duties, and I had some time.¡± Captain Angelton sat down opposite Nero, and said, ¡°I should be taking the blame for waking you up. Based on the report concerning your involvement in the Noble War that took place last night, you should have had plenty of time to get a full night¡¯s rest. I assumed, incorrectly, that you would be up at a reasonable hour. When you didn¡¯t answer my ping, I saw that you were still in your room. In the future, please answer your urgent pings. If an army captain sends you an urgent ping, one which overrides your privacy function, you might want to answer it. You made the Populator wait on you, that is not a good idea. ¡°Speaking of the Populators, apparently you were already aware of their presence in the city. When you met Champion Memory last night, he wasn¡¯t sure if you recognized what he represented. But, I¡¯m guessing you spoke with Mr. Salvatore.¡± The Captain noticed Nero¡¯s worry when he mentioned Nick, and immediately reassured the young man. ¡°Don¡¯t worry about Mr. Salvatore, he doesn¡¯t know anything that he shouldn¡¯t have told you. The Populators being here was never meant to be a secret. In fact, we were hoping to use the fact that they had been called to prompt the rebels to attack. Which they did last night,¡± he said with satisfaction. ¡°The Islangurs are rebels?¡± Nero asked. Champion Charity took a seat next to Captain Angelton. ¡°The Islangurs were a ruse. Within an hour of our arrival yesterday, we broke the ward hiding the rebel army. It turned out to be a mercenary force backed by what was left of the Dorchen line. Apparently, the Dorchens wanted Dorchester to return to their control. With more money than sense, they gathered what could be considered a large military force for this area. They were hiding a small army of around 250,000 in one of their mountain mines near the eastern wilds. ¡°We found the connection to the merchant caravan that your body¡¯s previous occupant was with. It seems they had made a detour to one of Dorchen¡¯s estates while en route to Dorchester. One of the merchants had spent the night at the main house. The man we questioned didn¡¯t know exactly what had happened, but the result was Lord Dorchen executing his nephew, and immediately ordering the raid. He demanded the destruction of any evidence that connected the merchant to Dorchen. In order to cover up whatever mistake the nephew had made, they used the cover of an Islangur raid. That was their first mistake. All that did was show that they had the ability to source Islangur arrows and armor. ¡°Due to the evidence the army compiled, Lord Cosgrave called for the Populators. When Lord Dorchen realized his plot had been discovered, he issued a formal challenge for the city-seat, at which point our hands were tied until the challenge was completed. The mercenary forces weren¡¯t ready, and Dorchen didn¡¯t have a way prepared to get them into the city, thanks to the army¡¯s thorough investigation of the mages guild. Therefore, his army was forced to break up and surround the city. They then offered a formal challenge, and the army was forced to respond. ¡°Dorchen did have a few hundred mercenaries at his estate within the walls. Their hastily prepared plan was to assault the keep from the inside, and use the Cosgrave children to force Lord Cosgrave to concede the challenge. It would have been considered a poor win, but a win none the less. With him ascending to the seat of the city lord, he would have been able to petition the Populators to return with a new writ authorizing the investigation of a city lord. He hoped to buy enough time to remove any evidence of his illicit dealings. The plan had an outside chance of working, since he used his position as a logician to subvert the central Thought Hub. ¡°Unfortunately for him, Lord Cosgrave was prepared for the inevitable assault. However, she was not prepared for her children to be targeted, due to the fact that most nobles would not have had the nerve to assault a City-Center, even if it was technically within the rules. ¡°Dorchen¡¯s gambit at the keep failed. He did, unfortunately, manage to flee before his forces officially surrendered. Therefore he wasn¡¯t taken into custody at the conclusion of the keep battle. ¡°Your actions last night were unnecessary. As such, I would like to know why you got involved. Technically, under the rules, you became a participant of the winning side. In fact, you finished with the highest score of any combatant. That score is based on several factors, including level disparity of combatants and contributions toward victory. As the battle at the keep was barely a battle, the only real combatant was you. So please enlighten me as to why you thought it was a good idea to fight for a cause not your own?¡± Unauthorized usage: this tale is on Amazon without the author''s consent. Report any sightings. Nero was silent in the face of the excessive information dump. Taking a minute to formulate his response, he drank his water and leaned back in his chair. ¡°So those men didn¡¯t need to die,¡± Nero asked quietly. ¡°No. They did not,¡± Champion Charity said simply. There was no judgment in her voice, she was just stating a fact. Apparently, she was still waiting for Nero to answer her question and she waited patiently for his response. Nero sighed, and tried to choose his words carefully. ¡°I didn¡¯t know 90% of what you just said. Also, even after hearing it, I only understand about 60% of it. All I know is that last night, my home was invaded. People came in and rounded us up. They took two people, one of them had the crap kicked out of him and the other was a young woman that the man in charge smacked around. That shit doesn¡¯t happen when I¡¯m around. No one seemed to want to get involved, like it wasn¡¯t their problem. As for me, I didn¡¯t like the idea of letting invaders take what they wanted without anyone fighting back. So I fought back. I¡¯m sorry those men died, but they made the choice to enter into a fight that put us on opposite sides. Nobody comes into MY house and starts shit. They wanted a war, so I gave them one.¡± Nero finished with a growl. Champion Charity nodded at Nero¡¯s stare. ¡°You did nothing wrong. The situation could easily have gone another way. Had Dorchen been even partially successful at the keep, the children would have been killed. Either he would have threatened to harm them to ensure Lord Cosgrave¡¯s cooperation, or he would have had them killed when he was the confirmed victor. He wouldn¡¯t have repeated the mistakes of the past. So, I¡¯ll repeat myself as you seem to be struggling with your actions: You did nothing wrong.¡± Nero nodded at the reassurance, banishing any doubts to the back of his mind. ¡°You said Lord Dorchen got away, so what will happen now? Will he return in the sequel?¡± Nero asked. The champion seemed to understand what Nero was asking and said, ¡°First, he is not a lord anymore. His house was stripped of its title by the Populators. He didn¡¯t know it, but he lost before he even offered the challenge. He was found to be supplying the Islangurs with arms and armor, therefore he will be killed. We have already executed his wife and children who were of age. Luckily, he didn¡¯t have any un-awakened children. Three of my squad are currently clearing out all the mercenaries that refused to surrender for their association with a traitor. Three others are hunting Dorchen through his teleportation trails. He is only a semi-accomplished mage, so he shouldn¡¯t get very far. The remaining Populators are issuing decrees and parsing the spoils of victory. Speaking of the spoils, congratulations. The Captain here will assist you with those after we finish speaking.¡± Nero was shocked. He couldn''t help but focus on one thing she had said, and barely heard the rest. ¡°Did you just say that 3 of you guys are currently facing the mercenaries? Weren¡¯t there like 250,000 of them or something? Isn¡¯t there going to be a battle?¡± Champion Charity nodded, ¡°Yes, there would have been a battle if the Populators had not found a reason to be involved. The City would have had to send out its army to deal with the rebels and find Dorchen. However, since Dorchen left the keep grounds during the challenge, he forfeited his claim. Therefore, he was no longer a challenger, and became a simple rebel lord. There are no accords protecting a rebel lord.¡± Shaking his head, Nero said, ¡°That¡¯s not what I¡¯m talking about. I don¡¯t understand any of that anyway. I¡¯m talking about the fact that three dudes are fighting an army, and you just assume that they¡¯ll win.¡± Tilting her head to the side, she said, ¡°A single Populator would be enough for the mercenaries. It would be too expensive to have a real mage in Dorchen¡¯s employ, let alone one that would stoop to following his orders. This is a small city, there aren¡¯t any real powerhouses here.¡± She turned to the Captain and continued, ¡°Not that there aren¡¯t people with the potential to grow. It¡¯s just that by the time someone reaches a reasonable level, they would move on. People with power have to see the world, and experience things that Dorchester can¡¯t offer. There aren¡¯t even any real dungeons near this city, I think there are few small ones, and some pocket arena¡¯s that make up most of the local essence trade. The essence in this region is too thin. It¡¯s been that way for hundreds of years.¡± Nero nodded to himself. There is a huge world out there, and he needs to get his head around the idea that a city of the size of Dorchester should not be impressive. He had looked up the population and been amazed at the size of the city. 1.5 million and 30 gates. 30 army compounds, centers and slices of civilization that he has lived in for the past week. He¡¯ll need to start going out of the Center and getting some experience in this world. ¡°OK. This place is tiny. Understood. What¡¯s the level range for this area then?¡± Nero asked directly. Captain Angelton spoke up, startling Nero as he had kind of forgotten he was there. ¡°Level 70 would be the upper echelon of the city. I myself am level 52 and am 71 years old. I would be considered a very fast climber. Normally people don¡¯t share that information, so I would ask you to keep that to yourself. It just seemed like you needed an example.¡± Trying to do the math in his head. ¡°I¡¯m sure this question is going to be rude, but I don¡¯t mean it to be. You¡¯re not going to hit level 100 by the time you''re 100 years old are you?¡± The Captain chuckled. ¡°No. Not a chance. Very few people actually make that climb. If nothing changes, the chances of me making Tier 2 are very low. Most likely, my leveling speed will die off in the 70¡¯s, and I will make it to around 300 years old before age creep catches up to me. Of course, that assumes that I stay in this region and don¡¯t seek out new opportunities. But to reach level 100 by the time a person reaches 100 years old? That is only a dream for most people. Until I met you, I didn¡¯t think I¡¯d ever meet someone who had the chance. If you keep going the way you''re going, that isn¡¯t an inconceivable goal. But for most people, reaching level 100 may take up to a thousand years. Each of the last levels can take 20 years or more . There are many people in the capital fighting age creep while focusing on the last 20 levels.¡± The Champion chimed in. ¡°That brings us to one of the things I wanted to speak with you about. The mages in the capital have been watching you. In fact, the arch-mage who discovered the anomaly in the higher planes that brought you here has spent most of the past few days watching you. He is a mean old bastard and takes great pleasure in your condemnation of our kingdom¡¯s way of thought. Your meeting with the local research head was very amusing. Not to mention, no less than three committees were formed to investigate the possibility of weaponizing the links in ways you suggested to Captain Angelton here.¡± Nero interrupted her, ¡°They¡¯re watching me? How? Wait¡­ Better question; did the links go down last night because I said it was possible?!?¡± She replied, ¡°No. We already knew the method Dorchen used. There are already safeguards in place. He wouldn¡¯t have been successful if he didn¡¯t have access as a logician.¡± From her pocket space, she produced a small stack of books. ¡°These are from the arch-mage who first noticed you. His name is Jennings. He and some others have been scrying on you. If you don¡¯t like it, learn to diffuse your essence signature.¡± She paused then tilted her head at Nero and continued, ¡°On second thought, ignore that last statement. I have the feeling that you¡¯re the kind of person who would actually try. You are YEARS away from being able to do that, so focus on learning things that are actually useful to you for the moment,¡± she said and patted the stack of books. ¡°These books are from Jennings, he said ¡®The crap you are reading is for morons; learn smarter.¡¯ He also asked me to tell you: ¡®Leveling is based on how well you integrate the experiences of life, it¡¯s ¡®what¡¯ you absorb that dictates how fast you grow, and how tall you grow is based on whether or not your life is well fed.¡¯ I¡¯m not sure what he meant for you to take away from that, but he wouldn¡¯t give me any clarification. He offered to bring you to the capital, but the king overruled him. The king believes that your path is your own, and while help on the path is appreciated, being dragged alongside someone else¡¯s path is not in your best interest. I see that being observed bothers you for some reason, but try not to focus on it. Live your life. They¡¯ll get bored of watching you eventually,¡± she finished, and handed Nero the books. Nero looked them over: ¡®Combat for mages¡¯, ¡®Seeing without Sight¡¯, ¡®Controlling the world around you¡¯, and ¡®Leveling Simplified vol.1¡¯. The irony of there being multiple volumes of a book called ¡®Leveling Simplified¡¯ was not lost on Nero. As thankful as he was for the books, the fact that some old bastards were watching him annoyed the shit out him. Looking into the air, he threw up double middle fingers and said, ¡°I know you¡¯re watching. You peeping bastards better not fuck with me, because I might be nothing right now, but one day I¡¯ll be an old bastard just like you. Think of what you¡¯d do to someone that screwed with you, and then imagine what I would do.¡± As Nero finished, he was stuffing the books into his satchel. He muttered about how if they really wanted to help, they could have included a book on personal dimensions. He looked up to see the Captain hiding a smile behind his hand. The champion still looked like a robot. Annoyed, and wanting this meeting to come to an end, he said, ¡°OK, is there anything else?¡± The Captain looked to the Champion. She stood up from the table. ¡°No Mr. Walker, you are free to go. Remember to discuss your reward from the Noble War with the Captain.¡± she said as she gestured to Captain Angelton. Looking down at Nero, she said, ¡°For me, I¡¯d like to thank you for your time. You are a very interesting young man. Considering your personality and penchant for being in the middle of things, I¡¯m sure I¡¯ll hear of your exploits all the way in the halls of the Capital. Even Champion Memory will remember you, he has been playing with basic spells infused with unconventional essences to everyone¡¯s annoyance.¡± She turned to the Captain and continued, ¡°If I have any further need of you, I¡¯ll contact you. In the meantime, I¡¯ll be at the keep.¡± Without another word, she turned into light and popped. She looked like a very weak light bulb exploding. Nero stared at where she had disappeared, and rushed to her side of the table. He waved his hand through where she used to be. The essence in the room had returned to normal, and she was just gone. ¡°What the fuck, Cap? Did she just teleport? People can do that? Of course they can do that. How hard is it to learn?¡± Nero babbled at the Captain. Holding his hands to stave off the over-eager young man, the captain said, ¡°Yes she teleported. And most people can¡¯t just do that. It is a relatively difficult spell in the first place, and beyond that, you need authorization to teleport within city limits. But, she is a Populator and can do whatever she wants. When they are in the City, they represent the highest authority.¡± ¡°That¡¯s awesome. I¡¯m putting it on my list. Now let¡¯s get some food, I¡¯m starving.¡± Nero said, and then walked off without giving the captain a chance to argue. ¡®I think I¡¯m getting the hang of ending conversations. The trick is to just be the one leaving, that way THEY are the uncomfortable ones,¡¯ he thought while chuckling. His amusement was short lived, as he left the room and saw a patiently waiting Sergeant Blackwood. Closing the door behind him, Nero resigned himself to some more pointless bureaucracy. Chapter 31 - A meal and a show It took two hours for city-wide communication to be reinstated. Head Guard Dalton, along with his men, were just arriving at the center when their links came online. They had collected 1000 guards during their race through the city, and the men poured into the entryway. Dalton used his link to check on the situation. It seemed that the Cosgrave heirs had already made their way to the local guard station. Even the mercenaries were already disarmed and waiting for processing. According to the reports he was receiving, they were alerted to the events at the keep by a Populator that was recording the events on site. ¡°Sir, you should see this,¡± said one of his men while pointing to one of the walls. Walking over, Dalton saw a destroyed room with a window overlooking the entryway. It looked like an explosion had gone off inside. Some of his men were examining the damage, while others were pulling something out of holes in the walls. Walking closer to the window, he tried to see what they¡¯d found. Grimacing, he realized that they were dead bodies. Crushed, bent, and generally broken dead bodies. ¡°What the hell happened here?¡± Dalton asked in a clipped tone. ¡°No idea Sir, Evidently an explosion was set off in the room which killed 4 of the enemy force,¡± he replied while they both surveyed the room through the window. A guard poked his head through what was left of the door, and said, ¡°We¡¯ve got another one in the hallway. He¡¯s kinda stuck in the wall though. It looks like another bomb went off out here.¡± Dalton looked to his men and exchanged a look of confusion. ¡°Give me a second to sort through the reports I¡¯m getting,¡± he said. Filtering out the acceptances of surrender, logs for teams addressing the communications issues, he found what he was looking for. It appeared that all of this was caused by a 14 year old lab-tech who saved the Cosgrave heirs from an embarrassing result. The little lord Cosgrave noted in his report that ¡®the belligerent commoner was just taking credit for a rogue mage¡¯, but the Populator on site is the more believable witness. ¡°It was a 14 year old Center associate responsible for all this. Hold on, let me find out which medical center he¡¯s at,¡± he said, while searching for Nero¡¯s current whereabouts. The guards were exchanging quiet words, praising the damage and pointing out a particularly brutal result. More and more guards were passing word about what happened, and how this was all done by a ¡®center brat¡¯. Smiles started to grow on their faces as they debated the details of what was obviously an epic fight. Head Guard Dalton¡¯s brow furrowed in confusion when he found Nero sleeping peacefully in his bed, and not in a medical center. Opening his eyes to the eagerly waiting guards, he said, ¡°The kid¡¯s asleep in his bed. Apparently he¡¯s fine. He¡¯s not in the medical center.¡± One of the guards pushed forward a little, and she said with a wide smile, ¡°What¡¯s his room number? I¡¯ll go get him.¡± That started off a loud debate over who was going to collect the little hero. Dalton interrupted the chatter, ¡°Calm down. No one is bothering him. Let the young man sleep. I¡¯m sure we¡¯ll hear the story soon enough. Do you all have any idea how many points he must have earned for this?¡± That set off another round of smiles and laughter, and Dalton just grinned as he took part in examining Nero¡¯s handiwork. ----- Nero saw Sergeant Blackwood sitting on a bench outside the conference room. Giving him a slight wave, he said, ¡°Alright big guy, let¡¯s get some food.¡± Blackwood stood up and looked over at the door. ¡°Is Captain Angelton done with you?¡± he asked. ¡°Even if he¡¯s not, any further conversation will take place while I eat. My link isn¡¯t showing me directions to the cafeteria, or mess hall, or whatever you army-types call it. So let¡¯s go. Chop, Chop,¡± Nero said as he clapped his hands. Sergeant Blackwood smiled at Nero¡¯s antics. ¡°Sure thing. Just follow me,¡± he said. As they walked to the cafeteria, Blackwood pointed out the buildings he thought were important. Nero was shown the training hall, which was a large stone building 3 stories tall and without windows. The requisitions depot, various armories, and Command centers which were all surrounding the dining hall. Blackwood made a point to remind Nero that he should use the correct names. While people would probably understand him if he made a mistake, they would label him a fool. Reading the subtext of the conversation, Nero had a feeling that the prevailing belief around the compound was that he was an idiot. Although Nero didn¡¯t know where they got that idea, he wasn¡¯t too worried. With a shrug, he ignored Blackwood¡¯s warning. ¡°Why are all these buildings made out of stone, and why don¡¯t they have windows? Even the Command Center doesn''t have windows below the upper floors,¡± Nero asked. ¡°Technically it¡¯s not stone. It¡¯s a type of essence infused cement. The formula isn¡¯t a secret, but it¡¯s very difficult to make. Most of Dorchester¡¯s important infrastructure is made from the stuff. As for the windows, no idea. I¡¯ve never really thought about it. Why do you focus on weird observations that don¡¯t mean anything? Why aren¡¯t you interested in the fact that we have 5 separate armories? Or that there are two Command Centers?¡± Blackwood asked, as they made their way into the dining hall. Nero looked around and shrugged. ¡°It didn¡¯t seem important. Probably different types of weapons for each armory. The command centers are probably the result of a really clever bureaucrat. They probably made the decision in some committee and it became a dumbass tradition. It¡¯s probably totally useless now, but is a nice thing to mention during tours.¡± Standing in the chow line, Blackwood looked at Nero with annoyance. ¡°That¡¯s actually pretty accurate. Do you want to hear the story anyway?¡± he asked, sounding hopeful. If you find this story on Amazon, be aware that it has been stolen. Please report the infringement. Nero looked up at his guide with pity, the man sounded kind of pathetic. Feeling a little bad for the guy Nero said, ¡°Sure. Hit me with it.¡± Smiling, Blackwood started what Nero could only assume to be a very interesting story for most people. Only half listening, he collected his meal while he scoped out the soldiers. There were people of all ages, some were even teenagers like him. ¡®It seems the recruits aren¡¯t separated from the veterans,¡¯ he thought with some interest. As they sat down to eat, Blackwood finished his rendition of the ¡®epic of the two compounds¡¯. The story boiled down to the army having two command centers: one for local issues, one for campaign issues. That¡¯s how the first king did it, and they still do it that way. Everyone thinks it should be changed, but the decision never gets out of committee. Just as Nero thought, it was a stupid story and Blackwood should feel bad for telling it. Since Sergeant Blackwood was Captain Angelton¡¯s right hand man, he was in the loop with a lot of information available for Nero to plunder. Taking the opportunity, Nero started to ask some questions that had been bugging him about last night. He found out the general rules for what was called a Noble War. Blackwood walked him through how they normally went, and what made last night¡¯s different. Of particular interest, was how the accords protect civilians during changes in power. After hearing how everything worked, Nero was surprised, as he thought the system sounded great. The people in charge wanted to stay in charge in order for their houses to get tax breaks. Noble Wars were just jockeying for position. The higher a house rose in the city rankings, the better their benefits. That¡¯s it. Yet, they can¡¯t abuse the system to help themselves, or promote their family into positions of power without oversight. Everything was very public. The tax breaks were based on how high in the political arena a Noble house rose. The corruption that Nero was used to back home was written into law here. According to Blackwood, it was obvious that increased responsibility should result in tangible benefits. Nero was amazed that everything was so organized. For example, in order to not affect the standard functioning of a city, and to not negatively impact the populous, noble houses had to declare when they were vying for a takeover of position. Noble Wars had specific rules that severely limited the amount of damage they could do to the civilian population. Those rules were commonly referred to as ¡®the accords¡¯. But, if a civilian wanted, he could throw off the accords, and join the fight as an independent. Otherwise, everyone involved in a Noble war was either part of house, or worked for a house. The army here was actually a division paid for by Dorchester, which was currently ruled by the Cosgraves. To Nero, that alleviated some of his distaste for his fellow Center associates. They actually believed that they were safe during the Noble War, as long as they didn¡¯t get involved. Wanting some clarification about that, Nero asked Blackwood how the merchant caravan massacre fit in to the accords. Sergeant Blackwood had nodded and said, ¡°That¡¯s a good question. The raid was just one of Dorchen¡¯s many evils. He relied on the fact that he hadn¡¯t formally declared a Noble War, technically that was a private action. Since the war hadn¡¯t started yet, it didn¡¯t violate the accords. He paid the families of the men he sacrificed and in effect created suicide troops. Then he used his status as a logician at the Thought hub to wipe the records, making the men disappear. He did everything he could to make it seem like it was Islangurs who raided the caravan. It wouldn¡¯t have held up in the long run, but he could have easily swept it under the rug after he succeeded in his gambit for the position of Dorchester¡¯s City-Lord.¡± As Nero heard that, he thought, ¡®Only a rich asshole would think that by technically NOT breaking one law, he absolves himself of any wrongdoing while performing banditry. That¡¯s rich-guy logic right there.¡¯ Finished with their meal, Blackwood walked Nero over to the main command hub. Getting approved for his link to work while in the compound was as easy as it was weird. Nero had to stand in a painted circle on the ground, while a clerk did something behind a desk. That was the whole thing. Nero stepped into the circle and two seconds later he heard the clerk say, ¡°Got it. You¡¯re good to go.¡± The clerk then turned back to whatever it was that they was doing before Nero showed up. ¡°That¡¯s it? We had to walk over here for that?¡± Nero asked Blackwood as they left the room. ¡°What did you expect?¡± Blackwood asked with curiosity. ¡°I don¡¯t know. It doesn¡¯t matter I guess. Next up is the armory for my gear, right?¡± Nero asked. ¡°Yup, you¡¯re in the system now. I¡¯ll send you the confirmed schedule. You¡¯re going to love your magic combat instructor,¡± Blackwood said with a smile that raised Nero¡¯s hackles. ¡°You¡¯re not going to tell me any details, are you?¡± Nero asked. ¡°Nope. And hurry up, I have other things to do today,¡± Blackwood said as he led Nero to the recruit armory. About an hour later Nero finally stepped out of the armory, now completely drained. ¡°Your system is stupid,¡± Nero said to an amused Blackwood. ¡°Why do you say that?¡± he asked. ¡°It takes two seconds to isolate my psychic signature and allow me to link to the army compound, right? Then I get here and I have to go through a bunch of paperwork and crap in order to get a bunch of gear that I can¡¯t even take with me. If the gear has to remain in the compound at all times, either with me while I¡¯m here, or inside a locker¡­. in the compound¡­. why the hell do I have to sign it out? It doesn¡¯t make sense to make me responsible for gear that I will hardly ever see,¡± Nero said through gritted teeth while staring at Blackwood like the past hour was all his fault. The sergeant scratched his head. ¡°When you put it like that, it¡¯s hard to argue the merits of the system. Just keep in mind, you¡¯re still responsible for the gear, and in 10 years or so it will be important to have the paperwork registered. It matters a lot more when you have a personal space. For now, just pick up your gear before classes and then drop it off at the end of day. Make sure to do your maintenance on it before you put it away for the night. A lot of recruits forget about that, and it¡¯ll come back and bite you.¡± Nero nodded, and tried to shake off his annoyance with the pencil pushers. ¡°Sure. Well, now what? That¡¯s it right?¡± he asked. Blackwood shook his head, ¡°Didn¡¯t you look at your pings? Captain Angelton is waiting for you in his office.¡± ¡°I currently have a backlog of pings going back to yesterday before the war. I can''t look at any new ones until I get the old ones taken care of,¡± Nero said, while using the link to find the captain¡¯s office. Before Blackwood could respond to his wisdom, Nero started off at a brisk walk. Hurriedly catching up, Sergeant Blackwood said, ¡°It doesn¡¯t work like that, you can still receive new pings. Messages, voice records, and new pings are all still available. The hub just saves the old ones for you to look at later.¡± Apparently Blackwood thought Nero was serious, so he decided to run with it. ¡°Let¡¯s just agree to disagree. I¡¯ll start going through the old ones now, so I¡¯ll need some quiet,¡± Nero said while they walked. Blackwood tried to keep silent, but he couldn¡¯t shake the feeling that something was wrong. While they were walking, he watched Nero, and he was 90% sure that Nero was NOT checking his pings. The kids psychic field didn¡¯t LOOK like he was checking his pings, and he wasn¡¯t struggling to pay attention to where he was going. Someone under level 30 wouldn¡¯t have the control to walk like that while checking their pings. ¡°I know you¡¯re not checking your pings,¡± Blackwood accused as they got back to the command hall. ¡°Of course I am. And you just broke my concentration. Shame on you Sir. Shame on you,¡± Nero said with a smile, and kept walking. Blackwood realized that he wasn¡¯t going to win this encounter. Without any other method to demonstrate his anger, he could only glare at the self-satisfied Nero. They walked in silence while Blackwood¡¯s anger cooled. Eventually, they reached the hallway leading up to the captain¡¯s office. Nero pinged the door the moment he saw it. He figured that he would receive the OK to come in before he had to break stride. Apparently he timed it pretty well, because he received the feeling of welcome at the same time he got to the door, and as a bonus, Nero got to see Blackwood¡¯s face covered in disapproval again. After entering into the austere military office, Nero saw Captain Angelton sitting behind his desk with some holograms open. It seemed paperwork was both digital and physical in the army. ¡®Probably have to do both in triplicate,¡¯ Nero thought. Seeing the captain¡¯s face staring at him while contorted in fury, Nero empathized with his plight. ¡°He must hate paperwork as much as I do,¡± thought Nero. Chapter 32 - That mail youre ignoring might be important. After last night¡¯s Noble War finally ended, the nobles had gathered in the Hall of Judgment to discuss the aftermath. The Hall of Judgment was built with concentric raised circles, allowing the houses to take up slices of the room. The center was an open circle for when supplicants or people addressing the court of nobles needed to be viewed by all in attendance. There were tables arranged around the floor for the various families to present their Head of House. Behind the house heads, was the next raised circle, reserved for the heirs and immediate family. Next came the attendant¡¯s ring, where aides and guard captains were able to observe the proceedings. Finally the highest ring was lined with chairs for visiting nobles, and other elites of the city. In the first circle, opposite the large entryway doors, sat Lord Cosgrave in her throne. She looked around the incredibly large room, and noted that it was filled to capacity with all the nobles interested in the subject of today¡¯s meeting. ¡®If I could only get them to care this much about matters of trade, Dorchester would thrive,¡¯ She thought to herself with a rueful chuckle. She forced her attention to return to the noble standing in the center of the room, displaying the results from their analysis of the Thought-hub. The noble in question closed the holograms they were displaying and said to the room, ¡°In conclusion, I can say that the Thought-hub is currently working at 100%, and the interruption of service is unlikely to be repeated with our proposed measures.¡± The City Lord nodded, and said, ¡°Thank you Lord York. Your quick diagnosis of the problem, and subsequent work to reinstate communications is a testament to your expertise and work ethic. You¡¯ll be appointed as the Chief Logician, now that the position has been opened.¡± Firming her tone, she ordered, ¡°Do better than your predecessor.¡± With a bow, Lord York returned to his seat in the second ring. The audience started to perk-up, everyone thought that the next subject to be addressed by the court would be what they were all here for. Sensing their interest, Lord Cosgrave addressed the hall loudly and clearly. ¡°You are all correct. The distribution of spoils from the Noble War is the next matter on the docket. As we had the pleasure of Populator oversight, we have been meticulous in our point tallying. I¡¯ll give the floor Champion Charity to dispense her judgment.¡± Lord Cosgrave said as she gestured to the Champions standing like statues off to the side. Champion Charity stepped forward into the central ring. She raised her hand, and some holograms appeared displaying images of the notable events of the Noble War. She addressed the crowd in a loud, clear voice. ¡°Most of what you expect is probably accurate. House Cosgrave won a resounding victory. No combat points were awarded, but maneuver points were won in staggering amounts. Anticipating the enemy¡¯s actions, and planning for them, made up the most of their points. In addition, as this war resulted in the destruction of a noble house, rules of acquisition by right of conquest apply. Therefore, most of what was House Dorchen¡¯s is now House Cosgrave¡¯s. Yet even with their splendid performance, they weren¡¯t at the top of the leader board.¡± The holograms detailing the point totals and assignments disappeared. In their place, a giant hologram appeared showing point totals for an individual and why they were awarded. Alongside the tally was a large image of Nero sporting a grin. Champion Charity said into the stunned Hall of Judgment, ¡°It looks like you¡¯ll be needing to plan a small party Lord Cosgrave. Gate 7 army command will explain it to the young man in question.¡± ----- ¡°OK Nero, I would have liked to get this done earlier, but you left before we could get to it. I understand you were hungry, so I¡¯ll let it slide,¡± the captain said while he rearranged the papers on his desk, getting the information regarding Nero ready. ¡°I just did what everyone does to me when a conversation is over, they just leave. Is that not right? Everyone¡¯s done it to me multiple times,¡± Nero asked with some curiosity. He had been rather proud that he finally got to do it to someone. Now, he wondered if he missed something. ¡°Yes and No. First, the conversation has to actually BE over. Also, the person who is the highest in level or status is typically the one who decides when a conversation is finished. It¡¯s not really a rule, it¡¯s just common courtesy,¡± the captain replied angrily. Nero rubbed his chin and thought about it. ¡°I can see how that would work. But I reserve the right to ignore it when I feel like it. Now what did you want to talk with me about. Something about rewards from the Noble War right? After speaking with the good sergeant here, I understand that I participated as an ¡®independent¡¯ who joined the winning team,¡± Nero said with a smile. The captain glanced over at Blackwood, then sighed. Looking at the papers on his desk, he said, ¡°Yes, As the Populators were watching over the Cosgraves, they witnessed your exploits and confirmed your entrance into the Noble War. The damages done to the building are listed as battle damage and therefore paid out from the spoils before distribution. You are not responsible for them.¡± After he finished speaking, he took the page he was reading from and put it face down next to the stack. Taking a moment, he read a bit from the page now on top. He then looked up a Nero, ¡°Next, I will be addressing your standings. Since you don¡¯t know what that means, I¡¯ll try to put this in perspective for you.¡± His gray eyes hardened as locked eyes with Nero. ¡°In a city of over 2 million private citizens, you were the only civilian to declare as an independent. No one at the keep, the thought-hub control center, or anywhere else decided to get involved,¡± he said. Nero just nodded, as this wasn¡¯t surprising. The captain continued, ¡°Granted the situation was unique, but there was very little reason for civilians to interfere at all. I¡¯m trying to say that what you did was very dangerous. Granted it was heroic and it worked out, but it was still very stupid. Do you understand that?¡± Nero kept his smile up, ¡°Yup. Stupid. Got it. Now what did I win?¡± The Captain¡¯s eyes lost a little of their light as he picked up the paper and leaned back in his chair a little. ¡°Well, this Noble War shouldn¡¯t have happened, and through some strange circumstances, you ¡®won¡¯ a lot. You won the position of the highest rated independent participant since you were, in a way, the ONLY participant,¡± the captain said while reading off a page. ¡°Then, you also won some points for being the main reason that the Cosgrave heirs were freed from captivity,¡± he said, while flipping another page. ¡°Then, you won points for killing 5 men in what was considered single combat. Single combat being defined by melee or magic combat with the possibility of death on both sides without having support or aid. Bonus points were added for you being a civilian. Then more for the level disparity,¡± he said and Nero could hear the sergeant behind him starting to chuckle. ¡°Finally, your biggest point gain was the creation, deployment, and testing of a new combat spell. According to the report, it was some variant of a water condensation spell that you used as an environmental spell. On a side note, I¡¯d like to see you demonstrate it if you don¡¯t mind,¡± he said, then flipped the final page. Sergeant Blackwood started laughing. ¡°A water condensation spell?¡­ I hadn¡¯t heard that part.¡± Ignoring his sergeant, Captain Angelton continued, ¡°As a result of no one else having a significant combat encounter, and Dorchen abandoning the field before any battles really took place, that resulted in you being the highest rated combatant in a Noble War which involved the destruction of a Noble house. This entire situation is ridiculous.¡± By the end of his speech, he was gritting his teeth and forcing the words out. Blackwood couldn¡¯t stop laughing and was starting to lose his breath. If you come across this story on Amazon, it''s taken without permission from the author. Report it. Raising his voice to be heard over Blackwoods laughter, the captain said, ¡°According to the rules of spoil distribution, the award for your contributions is a small portion of Dorchen¡¯s estate and a minor noble title. You¡¯ll join the court of Dorchester and take on some responsibilities that Dorchen had. As you have no skills to speak of, I have no idea what the city-lord will assign you. Your class schedule will have to be updated, and you¡¯ll be moving into the central ring. Lord Cosgrave will probably assign you a proxy to represent you in court. You¡¯ll probably also get a business manager for your new interests. The details will be discussed with you by the city-lord herself. She has requested the army bring you to the keep for dinner. I¡¯d recommend getting some new clothes.¡± After he finished, he huffed and closed the file on the desk. Blackwood was out of breath from laughing. While panting, he managed to get out, ¡°That is all confirmed? Nero¡¯s going to be a noble? He¡¯s going to be going to their parties and dealing with those people in the central keep? I can¡¯t believe it!¡± Blackwood¡¯s face was beet-red and he was having trouble breathing. He stood up and started stumbling toward the door. Over his shoulder he tried to say, ¡°I¡¯m sorry Captain¡­ I can¡¯t ¡­. This is just too much¡­. He¡¯s going to the keep!¡± The Captain and Nero could both hear Blackwood laughing his ass off down the hallway. They sat in silence until the distant echos of his laughter finally dissipated. Nero sat there, completely stupefied. He had expected money, maybe a medal or something, nothing like a title and responsibility. Raising his eyes to meet the captains, all he saw was him waiting for a response. ¡°So this isn¡¯t an elaborate prank or something? Can people just get promoted to nobility like that?¡± Nero asked. ¡°How do you think noble houses are born? They can be earned through meritorious deeds on the battlefield. The details and requirements are all clearly accessible to the public. The rules are quite clear, and though human error sometimes occurs during tabulation of results, this Noble War was arbitrated by the Populators. This isn¡¯t a prank. You will be a noble with all the responsibilities that that entails,¡± the captain said, trying to get Nero to realize how serious this was. ¡°But I just hid behind a desk and blew up some people. How does that count?!¡± Nero practically screamed. ¡°Listen, I¡¯m not going to go through this again. Just go over your pings. You have less than two hours to get ready. I¡¯ll meet you at the Center entryway where I dropped you off. Then we¡¯ll be heading to the keep using the astra-platform at lower 7. General Branson has ordered me to act as your escort for tonight. After you leave here, please stop by a tailor on your way to the Center. Your basic outer ring robes aren¡¯t going to go over well in the halls of nobility,¡± he said in a tired voice. It was obvious that he wasn¡¯t looking forward to the assignment. ¡°Two hours?!? Why didn¡¯t anyone tell me?¡± Nero asked, standing up in a panic. The incredulous stare from the captain froze Nero in place. ¡°Read. Your. Pings. And from now on, try to wake-up at a decent hour. Maybe in the future, you¡¯ll stop getting into these situations. And I said LESS than two hours. Now go!¡± said the captain through clenched teeth. Seeing that the captain was starting to lose it, and since Nero felt like venting his frustration with the situation, he decided to push a button or two. ¡°But I don¡¯t know where the keep is?¡± Nero asked in a quiet voice, trying not to smile. He was pretty sure that the captain was on the edge of a meltdown. ¡°Nero, I swear to the gods that if you make me tell you to read your pings again, I¡¯m going to find a way to hurt you in a way that is both legal¡­ and repeatable. You get me?¡± He growled. Nero realized that he might want to start backing away. ¡°Copy that Cap. I¡¯ll be sure to speak highly of you in the halls of power. In fact, I think you may be one of my best friends,¡± he said with a smile as he headed toward the door. Right before he closed the door, Nero took a mental screenshot of the captain shooting to his feet while gripping his desk with white knuckles, his face was the color of a ripe apple and there was a visible vein bulging on his forehead. Laughing quietly, Nero rushed off. Eventually calming down, he made his way toward the front gates of the compound, Nero tried to figure out what to do with all this new information. ¡®I¡¯m going to be a noble. I¡¯ll of course have to sell out immediately, and start singing the praises of class disparity. More tax breaks for the rich, and more restrictions for the poor,¡¯ Nero thought to himself sarcastically. As he quick-walked toward the Center, he had a great idea. Opening his link, he pinged Nick. ¡®This is going to be great!¡¯ he thought. Immediately upon the connection opening, Nick said, ¡°Nero, I¡¯ve been worried sick. Why were you at the army compound? I¡¯ve been waiting for you to contact me all day, I¡¯m sure you have questions about what happened last night.¡± Nero was touched by Nick¡¯s concern, but he was not dissuaded from causing Nick to suffer the panic he had just gone through. Nero replied, ¡°Yeah, I have a ton of questions about a lot of stuff. But first, do you know where I can get clothes that would fit in with the nobles, and they need to be in my size?¡± Nero felt his mentor¡¯s concern over the link. Nick asked in budding panic, ¡°Noble robes? Do you have to go to a tribunal? What¡¯s going on?¡± Nero felt like it was time to dump the information into Nick¡¯s head and wait for the explosion. ¡°Well, it¡¯s like this. Last night I won the Noble War, and because of that I will become a noble myself. I have to go to the keep in a little bit for some paperwork and snacks. Since I need some noble threads, I called you. You see, I don¡¯t have any money, and our agreement includes you paying me for my hard work. Now I have to go, I have a lot of pings waiting for me to read. I¡¯ll be at your office in 20 minutes, maybe an hour. Thanks Nick. Oh, and make sure that the clothes are the right colors¡­ that seems to be a thing here,¡± said Nero. Then he cut the connection before Nick could reply. After laughing for a bit, Nero continued walking while trying not to worry about what might happen, and just live in the moment. It took a while, but he eventually calmed down. After putting away his concerns, he started paying attention to the world around him again. ¡®This is the same road that I walked down a week ago with the Captain. Although a lot has changed, not much has either. I¡¯m still broke. I don¡¯t think the paperwork for my job ever went through, so I¡¯m still unemployed. I haven¡¯t been to a single class. I still don¡¯t really understand the leveling system here,¡¯ he thought to himself. Chuckling, Nero spent a few minutes taking stock of his new life. Looking around at the people going about their day with smiles on their faces, and a drive to grow in their hearts; he didn¡¯t feel too bad. ¡®For all that I haven¡¯t actually done anything, I did do the one thing I really cared about,¡¯ he thought, as he raised his palm while he walked. He corralled heat and air into a fireball over his palm. ¡®I learned magic¡­. Everything else is just details,¡¯ he told himself. Nero paused his steps and frowned. Putting out the fireball, he looked around, trying to see what made him feel like he was missing something. ¡®Why do I feel like I¡¯m waiting for something¡­ Oh!¡­ I just had a self reflective moment after a big event while standing in the street where I started my journey. This would be a great time to level. It would really have tied it all together,¡¯ he realized, and then opened his identity.
Name Nero Walker Level 6
Race Human Growth 36%
Tier 1 Condition 93%
Age 14 Center 89%
Body 1 Mind 1
Soul 1 Confluence 10
Stars 2 Pillars 0/0
¡®Wow. Not even close. I¡¯m going to have to work on my dramatic timing,¡¯ Nero thought with a shrug. He resumed his walk to the Center, all the while ignoring pings from Nick and surprisingly Mrs. Salvatore. Nero just wanted to walk in peace, and enjoy the moment. He¡¯d deal with everything later. Problems are future Nero¡¯s department anyway. Chapter 33 - Smart fighters always bring back up.
¡®They got on that fast,¡¯ he thought.
¡®I really need to learn how to fight,¡¯he thought as he heard the people around him talking.
¡°Where have you been? You¡¯ve had Nick climbing the walls with worry, he said that you¡¯ve gotten into some trouble with the nobles and that you need clothes,¡± she said. Her tone reminded him of a mother probing for information, waiting for the chance to pounce on any perceived weakness.
¡°Before anything else, please tell me if any of your messages need to be read. I have a massive backlog of pings, and I need to clear them out. I have orders to ¡®read my pings¡¯ from Captain Angelton.¡±
¡°I don¡¯t know what you still haven¡¯t addressed in your link, you¡¯ll have to deal with that yourself. Mr. Walker, please tell me what¡¯s going on, and I¡¯ll do my best to help you deal with it. I understand that you¡¯ve only been in this world for 5 days, and helping people on their path is quite literally my job.¡±
¡°Fine, but can you join Nick into our ping from wherever he is, I don¡¯t want to tell this story twice,¡±he said.
¡°Nero, I got some robes that should work for you. We don¡¯t have time to get you a haircut or anything, but we¡¯ll make do. What time are you being called to court?¡±
¡°You got me robes already? You just believed what I told you?¡±
¡°Hell no,¡± Nick replied. ¡°I pinged Captain Angelton. He let me know the situation. As I¡¯m currently your Center advisor, it falls to me to help you on your path. And it seems your path is leading you to the inner ring. Are you at your dorm room?¡± he asked.
¡°Can someone please just tell me what¡¯s going on?¡±
¡°Nero, let me explain. You¡¯ll just confuse her.¡±
¡°Explain away.¡±
¡°Last night, Nero chose to involve himself in the Noble War. He ignored the accords, and fought as an independent. The details are less important than the results. It seems that he fought five men in combat, including the leader of the mercenary force that assaulted the center. Nero killed all five, and aided in the liberation of the captured Cosgrave heirs. Due to the fact that his battles were the only actual combat that occurred during the entire war, he took the highest place in the rankings. If you don¡¯t realize the implications of that, don¡¯t worry, I had to have them explained to me as well.
¡°According to Captain Angelton, since this battle resulted in the elimination of House Dorchen, it puts this Noble War into one of the higher award categories. When the points were tallied, it resulted in some serious consequences for Nero,¡± said Nick.
¡°What kind of consequences,¡± she asked.
¡°I¡¯m going to be a noble. I¡¯ve got to attend a dinner or something. The captain is picking me up in like an hour. You guys wanna come? I¡¯m guessing the food will be good,¡± he said.
¡°Hence, Nero needed some better clothes. We¡¯ll also have to revisit his lesson plan, and schedule. All that work with the previous syllabus¡­ what a waste,¡± said Nick bitterly.
¡°Don¡¯t worry old man, I¡¯ll still keep up with my part in the deal. We¡¯ll just have to amend the contract. We haven¡¯t signed anything yet anyway.¡±
¡°Nick, I¡¯ll get you a change of robes and meet you at Nero¡¯s dorm. We¡¯ll not let that nest of vipers at Nero without representation. Bring his robes and meet me there,¡± she said and cut her connection.
¡°She¡¯s not a big fan of nobles, huh?¡±
¡°The Salvatore¡¯s are a noble family. Technically, I¡¯m a noble. However, I gave up the game and am an independent branch house. I just never completed the noble rites to found my own house. My family and Vera don¡¯t get along. She likes to focus on helping people with their path through the Center. Where my family tends to focus on advancing society''s path from a larger perspective; through business,¡± Nick replied.
¡°I¡¯m looking forward to seeing her give the side-eye to everyone when we get there. She¡¯s an amazing woman Nick. Anyway, when are you getting here? I still gotta take a shower, so I¡¯ll just leave the door unlocked. Wait, can I leave the door unlocked?¡±
¡°You can change your entry authorizations through your room¡¯s station. I¡¯ll be there soon, and I¡¯ll walk you through how to tie your robes. For once you might actually look like you know how to dress yourself.¡±
¡°Hey, I followed the little diagram thing that was in the cabinet. Anyway, I¡¯m almost there. The door will be unlocked, just come on in. It¡¯s room 3.18 if you don¡¯t remember.¡±
¡°3.18. Understood,¡± Nick replied and cut the connection.
¡®So it looks like I¡¯m going to the ball. I wonder if I¡¯ll meet my fated enemy. Maybe some noble heir will be all offended at my being raised to nobility, and I¡¯ll have to defend my honor. I bet I¡¯ll be face-slapping some brats in no time.¡± Chapter 34 - House guests always ignore boundaries Mage-Adept Cranston looked at the communication mirror with confusion. ¡°I don¡¯t understand. You want me to help him, but not be seen helping him. Don¡¯t be nice to him, or mean to him. Help him a little if he asks, but don¡¯t be too helpful. Stay far away, but watch him closely. Respectfully, you¡¯re not making any sense,¡± he said. He was in his private wing at the Mage Tower in Dorchester. No one could trace this communication mirror, and it was only supposed to be used to contact the Mage Tower of Hennings when special circumstances demanded it. Cranston had been called here by a secure signal, implying an alarming level of importance to this meeting. In the mirror he could see the entirety of the mage council. They all wore severe expressions, as though this was of significant importance to Oglivarch itself. The head of the council, Arch-Mage Jennings, was leading the meeting in person. That fact alone sent a shiver down Cranston¡¯s spine. Cranston had never forgotten the circumstances which caused him to leave Hennings. After he had made a small mistake with a dungeon break calculation, Arch-Mage Jennings was furious. Luckily, his father had called in a few favors, and Jennings wasn¡¯t allowed to call him to a duel. Seeing Jennings humbled by the Council of Leadership remains one of Cranston¡¯s fondest memories. Arch-Mage Jennings stood up and walked toward the communications crystal. In a cold voice he said, ¡°What is there to understand? We have been watching the boy since he arrived on this plane. He is a phenomenon that must be carefully studied and nourished so he can grow. I will not let some piddling nobles in the middle of nowhere cut his journey short with their stupidity.¡± Echos of ¡°Hear, Hear!¡± and banging on the table came through the mirror from the other council members. ¡°But isn¡¯t he already off limits as a new noble? No one will want to risk sanctions by the royal family by interfering with his path. What is it you want me to do?¡± he asked, clearly trying to hide his annoyance with the situation. Jennings could be seen visibly shaking in repressed anger. He turned and went back to his seat while shouting, ¡°Mathers! Talk to this fool. I can¡¯t deal with this crap.¡± Mage Adept Cranston watched as Mathers calmed down Jennings. The other council members were mumbling to each other and all of them carried looks of disapproval. This was not looking good for Cranston. Taking a spot in front of the communications crystal, Mathers folded his hands and took on the aura of teacher trying to get a child to see the bigger picture. ¡°By now you should have at least read SOME of what the boy has accomplished since arriving here 5 days ago. His exceptional leveling speed, incredible deductive skills, an ability to cast spells far beyond what he should be able to cast, and most importantly¡­ his perspective. We want that talent nurtured, not smothered. You must help him, but give him room to grow on his own. Directly influencing his path is not what we want. But we want you to protect his path from local forces that would like to see him stumble. Do you understand?¡± He asked. Cranston crossed his arms, and tried to choose his words carefully. ¡°I went over all the information that we have on him. I can see why you think he is a bit unusual, but I don¡¯t see what all the fuss is about. He lucked into a position of nobility, and if he survives I¡¯m sure he¡¯ll grow into something special. However, if his rapid rise causes the world around him to rebound and snuff out his life, that¡¯s just his fate. Respectfully, I refuse to take on this responsibility,¡± he said in a tone of utmost professionalism. Mather¡¯s shoulders sagged, and the entire council went silent. The quiet was instantly blasted away by Arch-Mage Jennings shouting, ¡°Enough! Sending that little bastard out to Dorchester didn¡¯t teach him anything. I¡¯m going there and putting a flaming foot so far up his ass his hair catches on fire.¡± Mage Adept Cranston paled as he watched Jennings march out of the room. The council remained in silence, but they now looked at Cranston in pity. Trying to calm the situation down, Cranston said, ¡°Fellow mages, you know I¡¯ve served the tower for almost 80 years and in all that ti-¡± Interrupting what was sure to be a grand speech, Mathers held up his hand for Cranston to shut up. The council¡¯s looks of pity were gone, and in their place was the cold disinterest Cranston was more familiar with. Mathers, however, looked giddy. He locked eyes with Cranston, and said, ¡°Good Luck, I¡¯m sure Arch-Mage Jennings will be there within the hour. I hope I¡¯ll see you again, if not, that¡¯s just fate.¡± The Mirror in Cranston¡¯s tower went out, and he just stared at the closed connection in confusion. ¡®What the hell just happened?¡¯ he wondered. ----- Nero was brushing his teeth while staring at himself in the mirror. A light application of air essence had cleared the fog on the mirror from his recent shower. As he leaned forward to check on the little shrapnel wounds that peppered his face and forearms, he reminded himself that people healed faster here. Most of his wounds were gone, and after his second shower of the day, he felt great. After reminding himself that he had a dinner to get to, Nero finished up. He applied some type of roll-on deodorant, then opened the door to his room. Nick was standing over Nero¡¯s desk and going through the various notes and papers that were lying around. With a smile, Nero greeted him, ¡°Hey Nick? Where¡¯s my threads?¡± Realizing that someone was talking to him, Nick looked up from the notes in his hands. ¡°They¡¯re on the bed. Just do your best, and I¡¯ll show you how to fix whatever mistakes you make. You can¡¯t go to the keep looking like an idiot,¡± he said with a dismissive gesture, then returned to his study of Nero¡¯s notes. Ignoring Nick¡¯s attitude, Nero grabbed the pile of clothes and returned to the bathroom. Getting dressed wasn¡¯t all that complicated. Nobles dressed in a slightly better version of what the people at the Center were issued. Pants and a shirt, with a nice leather belt and soft leather boots. The Robe was another matter. It was two robes, one with no sleeves and some ties on the side. The outer robe had big sleeves that ended at mid forearm, and was tied with a thick leather belt. Nero did his best, and admired his reflection. Nodding to himself through the mirror, he returned to Nick for a second opinion. Opening the door, he said, ¡°Hey Nick, what do you think? Do I make this look good, or what?¡± Glancing at Nero, Nick did a double take. ¡°Why didn¡¯t you adjust it?¡± he asked. ¡°What do you mean? Did I miss a tie or something?¡± Nero asked while holding his arms up and looking for anything dangling. ¡°Just feel for its essence signature, and try to feed it what it wants,¡± Nick said. Closing his eyes, Nero did as instructed. He could feel a sense of anticipation from the clothes, even his socks. Trying to just ¡®accept¡¯ the feeling, he started pulling in some essence from the room. The clothes seemed to not like that, and retreated. ¡°Use your center, the room doesn¡¯t know what size you are,¡± Nick said. Then muttered a quiet, ¡°Idiot.¡± Nero had a feeling of release and he felt himself ¡®open¡¯. The clothes shrunk and tightened, changing their subtle dimensions to more accurately fit his form. It felt like being hugged, the clothes even radiated a sense of ¡®being complete¡¯. His senses started to spread out and he sensed the door behind him; it was patiently waiting for the opportunity to open. The walls were strong and immovable. The thin carpet was self satisfied, and wouldn¡¯t allow anything to blemish it¡¯s beauty. ¡°Stop that. You¡¯re going to empty your center, and you have too much to do today,¡± Nick reprimanded Nero. Pulling his senses tight once again, Nero opened his eyes. ¡°What the hell was that?¡± he asked. While organizing Nero¡¯s notes, Nick said, ¡°Everything has an identity. You were just using yours to recognize and interact with the world in a more visceral way. It¡¯s called delving, didn¡¯t you read about it? I saw your notes on the subject.¡± Unauthorized usage: this narrative is on Amazon without the author''s consent. Report any sightings. Nero¡¯s eyes widened as he nearly shouted, ¡°That¡¯s delving? I thought delving was using essence to inspect objects and people. I set the shirt Captain Angelton gave me on fire when I tried it. I thought I couldn¡¯t do it yet.¡± Nick gave Nero his ¡®you¡¯re an idiot¡¯ stare, and said, ¡°You obviously were trying to force ambient essence into the shirt, rather than using your own essence. What did you expect to happen?¡± Nero shook his head, ¡°I don¡¯t want to get into this with you right now. Do these clothes look alright?¡± Walking up to Nero, Nick gave him a once-over. He adjusted his belt, and smoothed the fabric a little. Nodding, he said, ¡°It should be fine. Now sit down and wait for Vera, I want to go over your study materials. Some of this is very interesting.¡± Nero hopped up onto the bed. ¡°What¡¯s interesting about my notes?¡± he asked ¡°Most of what you wrote down are questions and conclusions. I wouldn¡¯t call these ¡®notes¡¯,¡± Nick said while slightly raising his voice and waving the papers around. He continued, ¡°Notes are concise rephrasing or simplified summaries of accepted information. You, however, evaluate everything you read and try to extrapolate limitations. Some of these theories you have here are completely wrong. But, I have to admit, some of these theories are rather interesting.¡± Nick flipped through pages and started talking about how these notes related to something-or-another. Since Nick wasn¡¯t paying attention to Nero any longer, he decided to treat Nick¡¯s impromptu lecture like a high school science class. After making himself comfortable on the bed, he started checking his messages. Nero deleted a bunch of pings from Nick and Vera about the Noble War. If he wanted information on the accords, he could just look it up. There were several pings concerning his point totals and results from Dorchester¡¯s Council of Leadership. Those he saved, he might need them for reference. Finally he got to his the several pings from Captain Angelton. The first few were just demands for Nero to come to the compound. After deleting those, Nero finally found some useful information. Unfortunately, just after he read about what being a noble means, Nick interrupted. ¡°Are you even listening to me?¡± Nick asked loudly. Closing his link, Nero looked at Nick with fake interest. Before Nero could try and spin the situation to his advantage, his dorm room door opened, saving him from Nick¡¯s wrath. Entering the room with a scowl, Nick¡¯s wife started talking the moment she saw her husband, ¡°What are you doing? We need to get moving. Here are your robes, get changed.¡± Waving her hand, garment bags appeared and flew toward Nick¡¯s face. Then she walked up to Nero¡¯s bed, snapped her fingers and pointed at her feet while saying, ¡°Nero, get over here. Your hair is a mess. I thought you¡¯d be smart enough to prepare a little. This is your first showing as a noble. As such, everyone¡¯s initial impression of you will be solidified tonight.¡± Nero got up and suffered her ministrations, while Nick went to the bathroom to change. ¡°So, I was just about to read the ping about all this. What should I be expecting?¡± Nero asked. While Mrs. Salvatore was adjusting Nero¡¯s robes, she replied, ¡°From what I¡¯ve been able to find out, you¡¯ll be having dinner with General Branson from central command, two councilors from the noble court, the court mage, and the city lord herself. I don¡¯t know if anyone else will be in attendance, but I heard the servants at the keep were instructed to treat this event with all seriousness.¡± ¡°How did you find all this out?¡± Nero asked, shocked at her investigative prowess. Sniffing to herself, as if the very thought of there being something she couldn¡¯t find out was absurd. She replied, ¡°I know everybody. With a few pings, I could tell you what anyone in the city is doing. Now, send me a copy of your invitation.¡± Nero was impressed. He knew Mrs. Salvatore was a big shot around Gate 7, but he assumed that her position had no bearing in the upper class of the city. He opened his link and forwarded everything that Captain Angelton had sent him, along with all the information from Dorchester¡¯s keep. He figured that should keep her happy for a while. ¡°Alright Nero, give me a moment, and we¡¯ll see what¡¯s going on,¡± she said as she turned the one chair in the room toward the center and sat down. She resembled a queen holding court as she closed her eyes and started in on Nero¡¯s pile of information. Nero just smiled at her antics and returned to his seat on the bed. Grimacing, he realized he was in that awkward period before an event. He had nothing to do, but didn¡¯t have time to start on anything. So he opened his identity to see if anything happened with his growth in the past hour. Maybe he could get some clues as to what caused his rapid leveling.
Name Nero Walker Level 6
Race Human Growth 36%
Tier 1 Condition 94%
Age 14 Center 76%
Body 1 Mind 1
Soul 1 Confluence 10
Stars 2 Pillars 0/0
¡®So no growth, but my center dropped a bit. Must have been the ¡®delving¡¯ or whatever,¡¯ he thought. Nero looked over his skill notifications that he usually ignores. There were hundreds of them. He learned nothing from them, except for the fact that ignoring them was the right call. He was about to open his expanded stats, when Nick came out of the bathroom. Wearing a burgundy and black robe, Nick looked very proper. Seeing Vera using the link, he turned his attention to Nero. ¡°About ready to go? Did Vera fill you in on the plan?¡± He asked. Raising his eyebrows in surprise, Nero replied ¡°There¡¯s a plan?¡± ¡°Vera always has a plan. Get whatever you need together. She¡¯ll tell us what to do soon enough. It¡¯s best to be ready before hand,¡± Nick said quietly. Nero got to his feet, and collected his satchel. Joining Nick near the door to the hallway, they both watched Vera sitting by the desk with a frown on her face. Opening her eyes, she smoothed her robes and stood up. ¡°I¡¯m perfectly capable of hearing you while I go through the relevant data. We¡¯ll be among nobles once again, so I¡¯m going to ask you both to try to rein in your personalities,¡± she said. Nero and Nick exchanged a look, both implying that the other was the one she was talking about. With a sigh, she said, ¡°Let¡¯s just go, we¡¯ll talk on the way. Captain Angelton will be meeting us at the Center entryway.¡± Following her out of the room, Nero and Nick waited for orders. Walking down the hallway, Vera said, ¡°Now Nero, I went through everything you sent me. First I¡¯d like to -¡± Nero interrupted, ¡°I sent you like 10 pings, how the hell did you go through all of them?¡± ¡°Mr. Walker, do not interrupt people. It¡¯s rude. And although you sent me a great deal of information, my first pillar is ¡®efficiency¡¯. I have progressed far enough to have the ability to go over paperwork with an enhanced speed. You¡¯ll have to hold your followup questions, as there is a lot of information that you need, and we don¡¯t have a lot of time.¡± Nero snorted as he matched her quick walk. ¡°I know that saying this is a mistake, but aren¡¯t you being a little dramatic,¡± he said. Nero could hear Nick chuckling as Vera just sighed and replied, ¡°Nero, there is a lot happening that you don¡¯t understand. You are technically a noble now. The moment the paperwork was filed, you became a ¡®new noble¡¯. That title ¡®new noble¡¯ has several important factors that you need to be aware of. First, you cannot be attacked, targeted, or be the subject of a Noble War for the next 100 years. This was put in place because the life expectancy of new nobles was less than a week, unless they found a Major house to back them. Around 2000 years ago, the crown decided that if they wanted to keep the upward viability of the new noble system, they would step in and act as a backer to all ¡®new nobles¡¯. ¡°Second, tonight¡¯s dinner is to introduce you to the city lord and have her receive your pledge of conduct. The pledge is something all noble houses have to abide by. Since you constitute a new noble house, you are the house head. As the head of a noble house, you must make the pledge. Hopefully, we can get that done tonight. ¡°Third, you will have to schedule your noble trials. As a new noble, you will not be allowed to put them off. They must be completed in a reasonable time frame. This is a problem, because you are only 14. The trial of combat would result in your death. The trial of knowledge is impossible for you; you don¡¯t know anything. The trial of service is a possibility, but you don¡¯t know how the systems of the city actually work. Which brings us to the trial of legacy, which although possible, is also a really bad idea,¡± she finished with a grimace. Nero was digesting everything she just said. His tentative plan had been to refuse the title of nobility and request a payout. But if that wasn¡¯t an option, he¡¯d have to move to plan B. Nero¡¯s problem was that he didn¡¯t have a plan B. As they reached the Center entryway, she said, ¡°I see you¡¯re starting to understand the gravity of the situation. If you¡¯re not careful, you could very well die in the next few days. And I for one, do not want that to happen.¡± Nero looked at her, and could see the worry in her eyes. Nick placed a hand on her shoulder and gave it a squeeze in support. ¡°Don¡¯t worry Mrs. Salvatore. I¡¯m very hard to kill. I¡¯m like a cockroach. I¡¯m sure I¡¯ll fit right in with the nobles,¡± Nero said with a smile. Cracking a smile, she said, ¡°I¡¯ve taken the liberty of using Nick¡¯s position as your advisor to get both him and I into the dinner with you. You don¡¯t have to face this alone. We are well versed in dealing with the noble court, and we¡¯ll do our best to support you.¡± Nick nodded along with Vera¡¯s words. ¡°Well, thanks in advance. Let¡¯s go find the captain and get to the keep. By the way, how do we get there?¡± Nero asked, as he moved the group toward the entrance. Chapter 35 - Cab rides are just tours without anyone explaining anything The King and Queen of Oglivarch were enjoying their dinner. Rather than use one of the many dining rooms, they typically ate outside after the sun had set. They both enjoyed the stars. In his youth, the King had even developed a method to tune the palace¡¯s wards to remove the light pollution from the capital. Hurrying into the courtyard, the king¡¯s aid came to a stop. He waited for the king to notice him, but it was the queen who addressed him. ¡°What is it Walter?¡± The queen asked, while sipping her wine. The king looked over from his side of the table, with a smile on his face. Walter realized the king probably already knew, but he had to be certain. ¡°Your Majesty, I came to inform the king of an unauthorized departure of a sky ship. However, based on his smile, it seems he might already be aware of the situation.¡± The queen looked over at her husband. He had the look of a prankster enjoying the moment his prank landed. ¡°What did you do?¡± She asked in exasperation. ¡°I didn¡¯t do anything,¡± he replied. With a sniff, she ignored him. Turning to Walter, she said, ¡°Tell me what we know. Have pursuit craft already been deployed?¡± ¡°No Your Majesty, not at this time. It seems that Arch-Mage Jennings attempted to requisition a direct transport to Dorchester. Naturally the request of such a transport raised some eyebrows, but the reason for the request was what caused Lord Hastings to report the incident to the crown. Apparently, after receiving word that his request was denied, he went straight to the sky docks. He stole the royal pleasure yacht. He sent a ping to the crown¡¯s public inbox with a receipt of sale. He says he rightfully owns the sky ship because, and I quote ¡®that brat said he owed me one a couple hundred years ago, and if he didn¡¯t, he should have¡¯. As Jennings is the head of the council of mages, no one disputed his claim that he had purchased the sky ship. Without even filing a flight plan, he took the ship. By the time I heard of it, he was already outside the city and in the wilds of Oglivarch,¡± Walter finished with a sigh. The queen looked back at the king. He was stifling his laughter with his hand. The king said, ¡°Tell her what his reason was for the transport.¡± Walter sighed at the kings antics and said, ¡°The wording was rather crass. He said he had to immediately go to Dorchester because, and I quote, ¡®Some little bitch of a noble is masquerading as a mage and playing games. He was put in Dorchester because if he stayed in Hennings, someone would have killed him. He managed to piss me off from the other side of the kingdom, so I¡¯m making good on my threat.¡¯ Obviously, when the Lord Hastings read this, he alerted the Council of Leadership. I wanted to make sure that the information wasn¡¯t being kept from the king. Hence, why I am here, interrupting your dinner.¡± The queen turned to the king and said, ¡°Really Oliver? You¡¯re just going to let him go murder the man? You know the Cranstons in Cranpool will be livid.¡± The king nodded with a smile. ¡°I¡¯ve already sent word to them. Specifically, the reason Jennings is heading there. Lord Cranston was justifiably angry. So, I sent him the memory of the meeting that was logged in the Tower of Mages. As a result, he not only understands, but offered an apology for petitioning for royal intervention all those years ago. You don¡¯t need to worry, the poor man ¡®masquerading as a mage¡¯ has been dead for a while, Jennings was just waiting for an excuse to make it official. The man was an idiot and gave him one,¡± the king said, then sipped his wine while grinning. Narrowing her eyes, the queen said, ¡°You wouldn¡¯t let this play out like this unless you had a reason. What is it?¡± The king looked at his wife, and she didn¡¯t seem to want to let it be. ¡°Fine,¡± he said. ¡°That anomaly in Dorchester is interesting. I didn¡¯t want to affect his path, but Jennings wasn¡¯t going to let the kid be in danger. This way, I let Dorchester gain a new noble house, Jennings gets out of his tower and gets his revenge, a mage who let a noble house hide troops is dealt with, and I put a sky ship above Dorchester in case I need it there. There were other reasons, but those were the main ones.¡± The queen looked pleased, and said, ¡°I always love the way you play. As far as I know you¡¯re still the only person who has beaten the matrix of fate in the game. But is the boy that important?¡± The king shook his head and said, ¡°Not at all. The boy is interesting, but the events he sets in motion are much more interesting. Think about what would have happened if the Dorchens had won the city seat. They were arming the Islangurs as a noble house, what do you think they would have done when they gained real power. I can¡¯t predict what the kid will do, and I find that fascinating. Who knows? They might not even have to evacuate the city during the coming essence shift.¡± ----- Captain Angelton waited at the entrance to the Center for Nero to show up. He hoped the young man was on time. While reviewing his orders through his link, he nervously paced at the foot of the steps. This was not the time for Nero¡¯s mischief. He let out a relieved sigh when he saw Nero walk up with the Salvatores. At least they got Nero presentable. ¡°You two did a great job. He looks almost respectable. I¡¯ll be sure to let you know what happens. So expect a late night ping,¡± he said. Mrs. Salvatore responded, ¡°That won¡¯t be necessary. We¡¯ve procured invitations. You didn¡¯t think the Center would allow a young associate to face such a change in their path without their advisor present, did you?¡± Surprised, Captain Angelton could only nod and say, ¡°Of course, well, let¡¯s get going then.¡± As they started walking, Nero followed along as best he could. Everyone was taller than him, and he found it annoying. Their immediate destination turned out to be a carriage station. It was like a really efficient taxi station. The moment they arrived, a carriage pulled up and Captain Angelton provided the destination, ¡°Lower 7 transport hub 1.¡± During the ride, Nick and Angelton provided the majority of conversation. Nick was demanding a recounting of Nero¡¯s meeting with Champion Charity. Nero wasn¡¯t really paying attention, as he was just enjoying his first experience in a carriage. Stolen story; please report. Nero was surprised how smooth the ride was. He assumed there were magic shock absorbers that went along with the magical internal-lighting in the cab. They passed through Dorchester¡¯s Lower 7 district at a relatively quick pace. As the ride progressed, Nero could see the buildings becoming fancier and taller with every block. Soon, people could be seen wearing more robes than regular clothes, and Nero figured that robes were the suits of this world. He looked over at Captain Angelton who was dressed in chain-mail and his hauberk, and said, ¡°Sorry to interrupt your riveting conversation, but why aren¡¯t you dressed up like us?¡± The captain turned to Nero and said, ¡°I¡¯m a knight Nero. My oaths require me to always be ready to defend the realm. I made the choice to forgo the niceties of life, and dedicate myself to a purpose. I have 43 years before I will wear anything other than armor. That¡¯s when my tour is up. Although I¡¯ll probably re-enlist, and being an officer in the army requires one to swear themselves to the code. You¡¯ll probably never see me in anything but armor.¡± The Salvatores both looked like they respected the decision, but Nero had some questions. The cab was pulling to a stop, and Nero bit his tongue to stop his interrogation. He was going to have to stifle his urge to know everything, because he knew that tonight he was going to be introduced to a lot of things that would tickle his curiosity. The teleport station was a large building with a ticket booth, and benches for waiting. It reminded Nero of what he thought Grand Central station looked like. He had only seen it in movies, but the grand ceiling and busy atmosphere was exactly like he remembered. Instead of getting tickets, Angelton led them to a private area with a small guard station. The captain offered the guards a nod, and then led Nero and the Salvatores to a private teleportation room. It was a large room with two people sitting at a desk, monitoring some holograms. There was a large platform which was circular, and near the ceiling was an equally large glowing ring hanging above it. The stone platform was lit up like it was under a spotlight. Nero could hardly see the walls of the room. The whole room looked familiar, he¡¯d seen something like this in old science fictions shows. ¡°So this is exactly like a medieval version of a teleport room,¡± Nero muttered. Nick apparently heard him, and responded with a smile, ¡°You think we¡¯re unenlightened? How did you expect to cross half the city in a reasonable time frame?¡± Following them up onto the platform, Nero paid close attention to the symbols etched into the floor. He said, ¡°I don¡¯t think you¡¯re unenlightened, I said medieval, which probably translated weird or something. I just meant that a wood room with a futuristic teleporter struck me as odd. Don¡¯t worry about it. So how do we do this?¡± Before Nero finished speaking, his senses blanked, and then quickly returned. It was like getting hit in the face with the flash from a camera. Looking around, he could already see the Salvatores and the captain stepping down from the platform. Examining his new surroundings, Nero realized that this wasn¡¯t the same room. Hurrying to catch up, he shouted, ¡°That¡¯s it? We already did it? Don¡¯t they warn people or something?¡± Nick gave Nero a look over his shoulder. ¡°Everyone scheduled for transport was ready. If we weren¡¯t ready, why would we have gotten onto the astra-platform. Stop talking nonsense. Just stay close, and keep your mouth shut.¡± With a ¡®hmmph¡¯, Nero shut up and promised himself that he wasn¡¯t going to act like a noob anymore. He would keep his eyes open, but hold any and all questions until he was somewhere private. Soon they were taking another cab. This part of the city had really tall stone buildings, and had a very different atmosphere than lower 7. The people all had their noses in the air, and walked with purpose. Nero watched the people along the sidewalks interact, and could tell he was in the upper class area of the city. The smiles were gone, but the courtesy remained. ¡®This is what New York would look like if the style section said that ¡®Kindness was all the rage¡¯ this season,¡¯ Nero thought to himself. Nero wondered how a city full of socialites like these functioned. Did they have auctions where they fought to be outbid? How did charities work here? If service was what you were supposed to do, how did people prove that they were better than everyone else? The cab finally arrived near the keep walls. They were tall and wide, with large gates every couple blocks. Nero estimated that the keep must be 10 square blocks at least. He could see towers and wide rooftops with crenelations behind the walls. There seemed to be a lot of buildings inside the keep. While they were waiting for their turn to be checked in at the gate, Nero couldn¡¯t hold in his questions. ¡°I thought the keep was a building, how is this ALL considered the keep?¡± Nero asked Nick. ¡°Originally, the keep was just the large central building which could serve as a retreat position and center of government. Over time, keeps grew as cities grew. Now a keep is defined as the central governing position of the city. As you can see, there are still walls to provide a fall back position. However, now it mostly serves to keep out unauthorized people. After all, if an invading beast wave got this far into the city, there would be no point in falling back. The buildings in the keep are the administrative centers for all city services and orders,¡± he said. Captain Angelton chimed in, ¡°The local chapter of the Knights of Oglivarch is here as well. I stayed there for a while after I was promoted to captain. It is in what used to be a church of Serine, before they moved to the temple district.¡± While their carriage moved through the gate, Nero watched as the inner keep was revealed. There were towering buildings along with a great deal of open spaces and gardens. Every building had courtyards and fountains. There were statues and walkways, benches and awnings. Nero thought it looked like a landscaping catalog threw up; it was overdone to the point of being ridiculous. Eventually they reached what Nero thought was the castle. It was a huge building with towers and ramparts. It even had a drawbridge and a moat. The moat had floating flowers and looked well maintained, it didn¡¯t look like it was for defense at all. The entire castle seemed like a parody of what a castle looked like. Then Nero took another look, and tried to think about WHY he thought castles looked a certain way. He was used to seeing ruins. A building that was ancient but well maintained would actually look like this. There was no reason to let the walls fall to disrepair, or for the landscaping to be purely functional. Why couldn¡¯t they do both? Nero reminded himself to take things as they come, and not to judge things without information. He refused to act like a tourist. Pulling up to the keep, they got out and were met by the staff. It wasn¡¯t exactly a private affair. There were people coming in and out of the castle, and it was more like a servant and butler waiting at the airport with a sign that said ¡®Nero Walker¡¯, than a special honor that welcomed him as a guest. Once their identity was confirmed, they were ushered into the castle and put in a room off to the side. As expected, they were told to wait, and they would be called for ¡®soon¡¯. Checking out the room, Nero thought it was a typical fancy-person waiting room. Yet, he was disappointed to find that there weren¡¯t any cookies or anything. Plopping himself down on the couch, he said, ¡°Well, at least the couch is comfy.¡± Mrs. Salvatore sat opposite him, while Nick and the captain looked around the room and made appraising remarks about the art. ¡°So, is this your first time at the castle or whatever this place is called?¡± Nero asked. Sighing, Mrs. Salvatore said, ¡°Nero, I need you to listen to me. If you insult someone here, they can invoke the right of duel. Refusing to duel is shameful, and can have economic and social consequences that you can¡¯t afford. You have some protection as a new noble, but if a case can be made that YOU started it, then you are on your own. I haven¡¯t had time to go over the relevant laws, so just watch your words.¡± Nodding, Nero said, ¡°No problem. I¡¯m the picture of a well behaved young master. But seriously, what¡¯s this place called?¡± ¡°This building is either called the castle, or the central keep,¡± she replied. Nick chimed in, ¡°Also, make sure you don¡¯t make any promises, or agree to anything without checking with us first. And this is important, do not accept any challenges to a game. Bet nothing, accept nothing. Do you understand?¡± Nero replied, ¡°Yup. I got it. Trust no one. Everyone here will smile at me while trying to stab me in the back.¡± He turned to Captain Angelton, and continued, ¡°The captain knows what I think about rich assholes. I wouldn¡¯t trust them with a butter knife.¡± Nick asked Vera, ¡°So do you have any plans on what to do about his noble trials?¡± Vera nodded and replied, ¡°Yes, I have a few ideas. We¡¯ll have to see how Lord Cosgrave wants to play it. I¡¯m also interested in why the court mage and the general are at this dinner, instead of the royal heirs. From the reports of Nero saving them, I figured they¡¯d offer a formal thank you. This would have been the perfect venue for that. This is unusual, even for an unusual situation like this. We¡¯ll just have to play it by ear, and make sure Nero doesn¡¯t get himself killed.¡± Nero had his feet up on the table, and was leaning back into the couch. ¡°Hey, I¡¯m not completely without¡­¡± he trailed off, like he couldn¡¯t think of the word. ¡°Guile!¡± he shouted. ¡°Yeah, I¡¯m not completely without guile. I can be all noble and whatnot. You don¡¯t have to worry, I got this.¡± He was met with blank stares. The door to the room opened into the silence, and the butler said, ¡°Dinner is served, please follow me to the dining hall.¡± Chapter 36 - Noble Neros first dinner at the keep The door to Lord Cosgrave¡¯s office opened and Lord Hector Salvatore walked in. He was 6¡¯ tall and walked with confidence. His thin black hair was cut short and styled with product. He had a thin goatee, with impeccable grooming. He walked to the center of the room and offered an elegant bow. ¡°You wished to see me city lord?¡± He asked in a silky voice. Lord Cosgrave tapped her fingers on the desk as she appraised him. ¡°What can you tell me about your brother and his wife?¡± She asked. Confused, he asked, ¡°Which brother, m¡¯lord?¡± Raising an eyebrow, she said, ¡°After today¡¯s meeting in the council chamber, you can¡¯t guess the topic of conversation?¡± Taking a second to think, Hector furrowed his brow and went over what he knew. Looking back to Lord Cosgrave, he said, ¡°I¡¯m sorry, m¡¯lord. I can¡¯t think of what connection anyone in my house has to last nights events or anything covered in the council meeting. I assure you, as far as I know, my house had no connection to the former Lord Dorchen¡¯s machinations.¡± Shaking her head, Cosgrave replied, ¡°No Lord Salvatore, this isn¡¯t about the Dorchens. This is about the new noble.¡± ¡°I¡¯m even more confused. We don¡¯t have anyone in our house in lower 7, how did he ¡­. You mean the boy has some connection to Nicholas and Vera?¡± He asked, eyes wide in shock. Lord Cosgrave chuckled. ¡°Yes, Nicholas is the boy¡¯s advisor. His wife did the boy¡¯s initial intake when he entered the city. Apparently, they are thick as thieves. In fact, when I sent for the boy, Vera Salvatore got an invite to tonight¡¯s dinner through her connections with the general¡¯s staff. She managed to do it without the general even being aware. What I want to know is, what kind of people are they? I don¡¯t know much about your brother, I don¡¯t think I¡¯ve ever met him,¡± she said. Attempting to cover his shock. Lord Salvatore coughed into his hand, and said, ¡°Yes, you probably never interacted. Nicholas left the noble court and the house almost 50 years ago, when he married his wife in fact. He always avoided the political aspects of being a Salvatore. His only concern was scientific advancement. He made our father both proud and annoyed in equal measure. His rapid rise through the research center is a testament to his dedication to his craft. With respect, Vera is the one to watch out for.¡± ¡°How so?¡± Lord Cosgrave asked intently. ¡°Her maiden name is Pendleton,¡± he said. Lord Cosgrave leaned back as if struck. ¡°She¡¯s related to the Pendletons. The Grand house Pendletons?¡± She asked for clarification. Shaking his head. ¡°Not really. Well, kind of. Her grandmother was Natasha Pendelton, but her mother left the family to start a new house. I believe they are best categorized as a branch house, but haven¡¯t formally completed the noble trials. I believe the mother is only waiting to find the right husband, she had five or six consorts if I remember correctly. She has also completed the other trials, and hasn¡¯t appeared to be in a hurry to marry. ¡°In any case, Vera was raised in Hennings and moved here to work in the Center almost 75 years ago. She met Nicholas and he left our family for her. She is a formidable woman. Do not take her lightly, as she grew up playing the game in the capital. From what we learned when we checked up on her history, she spent a great deal of time destroying people who crossed her. She prefers to eliminate escape routes and then cause her opponents to make a mistake. I¡¯ve personally seen two of her duels, she is a devious fighter and relies on subtle essence manipulation. If she wanted Nicholas to be the Lord of the house, I would have stepped down rather than deal with her. Does that answer your question?¡± he said. Nodding, she replied, ¡°Yes. You have succeeded in conveying how dangerous she is. But I need to know what drives her. What does she want? You make it sound like she decided she wanted Nicholas, so she took him. Is he really that browbeaten? Can that avenue be explored?¡± Shaking his head vehemently, he replied, ¡°No, No, No, you misunderstand. I¡¯m sorry I wasn¡¯t more clear. She met Nicholas, and found a fellow purist in the pursuit of perfection. Let me put it this way, she has the ¡®efficiency¡¯ pillar. She is exacting, always has been. She likes watching people grow, that¡¯s why she got into the Center. Within a few years, she was leading a team. I believe she is currently the head of intake for all of lower 7. I guarantee you that she knows everyone there. She treats people like projects. When she met Nicholas, she just helped him focus on what he thought was important. She saw greatness in him. He was always a scientist, but his successes were a byproduct of his skill. When he met her, he became a force of nature in the scientific community. She is his rudder. They are actually perfect for each other. Trying to get between them, would result in disaster. ¡°In fact, you remember my late sister? About 20 years ago, she tried to bring Nicholas back into the fold by impeding his work through political maneuvering. Vera noticed immediately. Rather than fighting back, she systematically destroyed my sister¡¯s interests. Her friends distanced themselves, her business contacts dried up, and rumors hounded her. It took six months for her to figure out that it was Vera. I believe that Vera somehow let my sister find out in a way that made her too furious to think straight. She challenged Vera to a duel without thinking it through. Vera accepted, then took my sister¡¯s hands followed by her head within an hour. No one in the family even knew it was happening until it was over. ¡°I personally went to Nicholas to ask for an accounting of what happened. He hadn¡¯t heard anything about it. When I told him that our sister was dead, he just asked, ¡®What did she do to piss off Vera? Was she insane?¡¯ As a result, the house of Salvatore doesn¡¯t currently have any dealing in lower 7. I hope that clarifies things,¡± he finished. The door to her office slammed open, and Lord Cosgrave¡¯s aid rushed in. ¡°M¡¯lord, we¡¯ve just received word that the head of the mage council in Hennings has registered a flight plan to Dorchester. The flight plan states that he is already en route. He¡¯ll be here within the hour.¡± Both Lord¡¯s Cosgrave and Salvatore were stunned. ¡°Why is he coming?¡± Lord Cosgrave asked. ¡°I think you¡¯ll need to read his reason for visiting personally,¡± the aide said and sent it to Lord Cosgrave through the link. Opening her link, Lord Cosgrave skimmed the flight plan. Finding the section on ¡®reason for visit¡¯, she read: ¡°That little bastard Cranston is going to be dead soon, and Dorchester needs a new court mage. I¡¯m it.¡± With her face paling, Lord Cosgrave looked to her aide and asked, ¡°Does Mage Adept Cranston know?¡± Shaking her head, the aide replied, ¡°Not that I know of. Should he be alerted?¡± Lord Cosgrave replied, ¡°No, never stand between an arch-mage and his target. It won¡¯t save the target, all it will do is get you killed as well.¡± Turning to Lord Salvatore, she continued, ¡°A place just opened up for dinner at the keep tonight, would you like to join us?¡± ----- Nero looked at the dark wood walls, fancy floating lights, and artwork on the walls. ¡®They¡¯re really leaning into the aristocratic theme here. Oh look, suits of armor, how original,¡¯ he thought. If you come across this story on Amazon, be aware that it has been stolen from Royal Road. Please report it. The butler was wearing tight gray robes and walking with his chin so high Nero wondered if the man could see where he was going. Checking on the captain and the Salvatores, Nero realized that the display of wealth didn¡¯t faze them at all. He¡¯d have to make sure that he didn¡¯t stare like a commoner, or whatever they call the peasants here. Eventually they were led into a dining hall, Nero couldn¡¯t bring himself to call it a room. The table was massive, and the place was larger than most bars he used to frequent. The chandelier was a rotating series of lights that kept the room¡¯s lighting even and pleasing. The entire room screamed sophistication and class. Lord Cosgrave stood up at the head of the table and gestured for them to sit. She said, ¡°Welcome, and thank you for joining us. We have a lot to cover and I¡¯m glad that we can do so while enjoying a meal. Let me introduce everyone.¡± Nero took his assigned seat between Nick and Vera. He noticed that Mrs. Salvatore looked at the seats like the placement implied something. Captain Angelton was on the other side of the table next to some guy in a blue tabard with gold trim. The silverware was shiny, and everything looked like the cover of a magazine. The whole situation made Nero hesitant to touch anything. Lord Cosgrave remained standing, and gestured to her right. ¡°This is Arch-Mage Felix Jennings, the new court mage. He is here representing the Tower of Mages.¡± Gesturing to her left, she said, ¡°Here we have Lord Michael York. He is the newly appointed head of the Tower of Logic.¡± Going back to the right, ¡°This is Lord Sarah Bennings. She is the director of the Tower of Law.¡± Continuing on the right, ¡°And here is General Branson, currently in command of the army central command in Dorchester.¡± Finally, she gestured to the man sitting in the second seat on her left, right next to Nick. ¡°This is Lord Salvatore, Nicholas¡¯s brother. When I heard that your advisor and his wife were joining us, I took the opportunity to invite him,¡± she finished with a smile, and sat down. As if that were a hidden signal, servants descended on the table like a swarm. They placed glasses of wine and water, followed by a salad of some kind. In less than 30 seconds, everything was in place and they vanished like smoke. ¡®Do servants gain abilities that make them awesome at this crap or something, that was nuts,¡¯ Nero thought. Lord Cosgrave spoke up again, ¡°Before we eat, let us give thanks,¡± she said and bowed her head. Everyone bowed their head in turn, and put their hands in their laps. Nero followed suit, while side-eyeing everyone, to see what was happening. ¡°We thank you for your bounty, and will endeavor to grow in recompense for that which we¡¯ve culled,¡± she said, then opened her eyes with a smile. ¡°Please enjoy,¡± she said and picked up her fork. Nero almost wanted to clap, the lady really knew how to do an introduction. Before anyone could even touch their food, Vera spoke up. ¡°M¡¯lord, I¡¯d like to thank you for this wonderful meal. Too often when dealing with subjects of this magnitude, we confine them to conference rooms and places commensurate with the severity of the issues at hand. Having Mr. Walker for a meal before he even gives the pledge of nobility is truly touching,¡± She said while offering a toast to the city lord. Judging by the smile on the Arch-Mage Jennings face, and the looks the other dinner guests shared, Nero was sure he was missing something. He reminded himself that he couldn¡¯t know everything, and whatever happens will happen. Digging into his food, he ignored everything else. ¡®Is this a beet? I don¡¯t remember what beets taste like. I¡¯m calling it a beet,¡¯ he decided with a nod. Lord Cosgrave sipped her wine, and replied to Vera, ¡°Mrs. Salvatore, you¡¯re welcome of course. I just thought that since Mr. Walker was so new to this world, some of the rigid doctrines we nobles have to endure should be eased into. There is no reason to force him to follow the letter of the law.¡± While chewing on what he thought was a carrot, Nero muttered, ¡°The devil is in the details, ignore him at your peril.¡± And then washed it down with some water while never raising his eyes from his plate. ¡°Yes!¡± Jennings shouted. Everyone at the table jumped, when Arch-Mage Jennings slammed his palm down on the table. With a wide smile, he continued, ¡°That is a wonderful thought form. A demon waiting to trick you, while you gloss over the details while focusing on the bigger picture. A threat right in front of you, that you ignored to your destruction. Did you just make that up? That¡¯s fantastic.¡± The arch-mage was nearly bouncing in his seat. Everyone¡¯s attention turned to Nero. With some salad dressing on his lip, and his fork paused in front of his face, Nero looked around at everyone watching him. Delicately setting down his fork, he wiped his mouth with his napkin, and said, ¡°I¡¯m sorry for my outburst. I was just reminding myself not to let the surroundings dictate my mindset. Just because I¡¯m at dinner, doesn¡¯t mean this ¡®is¡¯ a dinner, you know?¡± ¡°Right you are, my boy. Keep your eyes on your opponent at all times. I¡¯d like to show you the game. I¡¯m very interested in watching you play,¡± Jennings said with a smirk. Nero could sense a kindred spirit in the man. Although he looked about 45 years old and was dressed like a suit, he obviously had the soul of a troll. ¡°I¡¯d love to see it. But I think Mrs. Salvatore would skin me alive if I were to agree to anything without first asking her opinion. I¡¯ve decided to appoint her my proxy for all my noble-type stuff,¡± he said, and then returned to his salad. It took a few seconds of silence for Nero to realize that no one was moving. He looked up and saw that everyone had frozen. Even Lord Cosgrave was wearing a repressed frown. Looking over at Mrs. Salvatore, he saw her smiling ear to ear. Nick, however, seemed like he was trying not to laugh. Breaking the silence, Vera addressed everyone in a loud voice, ¡°I humbly accept the appointment as House Walker¡¯s proxy and will do my best to serve its interests. May our house grow to the sky, and cast a long shadow.¡± She then leaned into Nero¡¯s personal space and said, ¡°I know you have no idea what you¡¯ve just done, but I won¡¯t betray the trust you¡¯ve shown me. Now don¡¯t say anything else, and just eat your meal.¡± Nero nodded in confusion, then looked at Nick. Nick had started a small quiet conversation with the man who was sitting next to him. Apparently, the man was his brother. ¡®Small world,¡¯ thought Nero. Small talk took over the dinner, as everyone brought up topics pertaining to the city as a whole. The recent Noble War was mentioned only in that Lord York had taken over one of Lord Dorchen¡¯s responsibilities. Lord York was the new head of the logicians, in the aptly named Tower of Logic. General Branson praised his men for their foiling of the plot, while Angelton tried to turn away any praise. Lord Benning went into a long boring rendition of laws and how cleverly the Dorchens maneuvered the situation to their advantage, while highlighting the ¡®brilliant¡¯ countermeasures the city lord used to win the day. Nero kept his head down, and focused on the courses that were presented. Succulent meats, and tasty soups came in waves. All of the portions were small, but they just kept coming. Eventually he got bored, and started playing with the ambient essence. He was careful not to actually do anything, but just shaping it a little shouldn¡¯t cause any issues. While Lord¡¯s Benning and York were arguing with Nick about ¡®psychic filtering¡¯ in regards to something or another, Nero was leaning back in his chair patting his belly. Meanwhile, he was staring at the essence above his plate, playing with a simple spell form for cleaning things. Nero thought he figured out the part of the spell form that was for targeting. If he changed the essence input from ¡®purge¡¯ to ¡®heat¡¯, wouldn¡¯t he have a way to melt stuff? ¡®Purge¡¯ was the essence associated with returning something to its intended identity. Nero figured that when he delved something, that was it¡¯s base identity. So ¡®purge¡¯ just removed, or more accurately, separated the stuff that wasn¡¯t part of that identity. Unbeknownst to Nero, Arch-Mage Jennings was watching the essence forms that Nero was making, while grinning from ear to ear. ¡®The boy is sitting at a table of some of the most powerful people in the city, and is picking apart spell forms like an adept. What is he trying to form? Why is he¡­ uh oh,¡¯ he thought. The entire table¡¯s attention snapped to Nero as he targeted his glass with his brand new ¡®heat inversion spell¡¯, patent pending. The glass in question iced over and the liquid froze solid. Nero frowned, and muttered, ¡°Too much heat was pulled. There has to be a better way than manually throttling the input. Maybe if I use the input section of the water condensation spell, I¡¯ll be able to adjust it like a faucet.¡± The table sat in silence as Nero muttered to himself and manipulated a spell form at the table. ¡®I just flip the essence flow, change the input, use the targeting form, and boom a temperature spell,¡¯ Nero thought. While he was playing with his new spell, which he now called ¡®the hotter/colder spell¡¯, the table was watching his glass go from solid ice, to melting, then boiling, then back to solid ice. Finally after the 7th cycle, Nero noticed everyone watching him and his glass. He said, ¡°Uh¡­ don¡¯t mind me, keep talking about¡­ what you were talking about. It was really interesting. That part about the proper way to do it, I totally agree with. And the other thing about the wrong way to do it, that was absolutely true too.¡± Nick dropped his head into his hands, and everyone else just sat in shock. Arch-Mage Jennings started clapping. ¡°Brilliant! My boy, that is the most crude variable temperature spell I¡¯ve ever seen. You used parts of at least three separate spell forms, but it worked! Why were you using ambient essence like that? How did you do that?¡± he asked excitedly. Looking around the table, Nero decided to play his trump card. In a voice full of sincerity, he said, ¡°I¡¯m sorry, but all research related questions will have to be addressed to my advisor. And, on the advice of my counsel, I¡¯m going to shut up now.¡± Chapter 37 - Nero demonstrates his chops Lowering his new ship out of the clouds, Arch-Mage Jennings opened communications to Dorchester. His console lit up with a hologram of the local traffic tower attendant. Although they probably hadn¡¯t seen a sky ship in the last decade, all cities were required to have an available docking port. The attendant looked like he was trembling at attention. ¡°Dorchester sky-dock 1 sees you Mage 1. You are currently flying royal flags, is there someone on board we should be aware of?¡± Snorting to himself as he brought the royal yacht down toward the landing platform, Jennings replied, ¡°Yes. I¡¯m on board. That¡¯s more than enough for you.¡± Standing even straighter, if that were possible, the attendant replied, ¡°Yes Sir, of course Sir. We¡¯re ready for you to begin landing procedures.¡± While Jennings listened to the man blather, he was sealing the docking clamps. In no time at all, he walked to the door and checked the time. ¡®One hour and 36 minutes. Not bad for a trip from Hennings to Dorchester. ¡®Top of the line¡¯ ship indeed.¡¯ he thought with a smile. Outside the ship, standing on the platform, was the local transit agent with a bunch of papers. Jennings could tell that the woman would be a stickler for procedure, so he started talking as he walked up. ¡°Good Afternoon. Depending on what happened after I left Hennings, I either borrowed or stole this boat. In any case, I¡¯m leaving it here. There is a very real possibility that someone from the capital will be sent to collect it, so don¡¯t be surprised if someone shows up with paperwork to that effect. Now, I¡¯ll be the new court mage here, so if you have any questions, feel free to call my office. Thank you for your diligent service, and may your path remain wide and clear,¡± he said, then with a loud ¡®woooosh¡¯, he flew off into the city. The transit agent hadn¡¯t had a chance to say anything, or confirm receipt of the yacht. Grumbling to herself, she went back inside and started a scathing report to the Council of Leadership on their new court mage. Meanwhile, Jennings was hurtling through the air toward the local mage tower. Using his link, he deftly inserted himself into the local thought hub. Using authorization protocols, he updated his local identity, and looked up the current whereabouts of his target: Mage Adept Cranston. Finding that he was currently at the city lord¡¯s castle, Jennings veered toward the keep. ¡®Hiding like a little bitch isn¡¯t going to save you,¡¯ Jennings thought to himself while growling in anger. Within three minutes of arriving in Dorchester, Arch-Mage Jennings was landing in front of the castle gate. The guards on duty were standing at attention and didn¡¯t say anything, or even make eye contact. ¡®So, someone is expecting me. Interesting,¡¯ he thought. Once inside, he started toward Cranston¡¯s current position. Walking the hallways, everyone stayed out of his way, some even bowed. Overconfidence has killed many a man, so Jennings took the time to strengthen his essence shield. He even added a filter to ensure his air was clean. After his defenses were set, he spread his psychic field out as subtly as he could. His feather light touch was nearly impossible to detect. As he progressed through the halls, his senses found Mage-Adept Cranston arguing with a group of people near an arena in the basement. Smiling, he quickened his steps. As he walked down the stairs, he saw the doors to a large arena were open, and a bunch of fancy nobles were facing off against Cranston. Some of them were trying to calm the man down, while others were looking at him like he was already dead. Jennings enhanced his voice with essence and spoke loudly into the room, ¡°Mage Adept Silas Cranston, you have been found guilty of refusing an assignment given to you by the Mage Council of Oglivarch. Do you wish to dispute the charges?¡± Jennings was vibrating in anticipation. The Dorchester Council of Leadership were in awe of the essence storm that was accumulating around the Arch-Mage. Lord Heleema Cosgrave had considered delicately intervening, maybe attempt to prohibit the duel on the grounds that Cranston was her subject. However, that idea evaporated in the face of Jennings'' wrath given form. Cranston stepped back from the nobles and faced Jennings at around 30 paces. The nobles realized that there might actually be a fight, and promptly ran to the side of the arena. Jennings chuckled as he watched them all hitch up their robes and skedaddle. ¡°The orders were ridiculous, and I will not waste my-¡± Cranston started. With a blast of essence, Jennings interrupted the blithering idiot with a personalized plasma lance spell. Hitting Cranston¡¯s essence shield head on, it sent the mage adept flying into the opposite wall. Walking forward, his control spreading out like a fog, Jennings spoke in a cold voice, ¡°Your refusal to follow your oaths has been noted. Many years ago, you managed to save your hide by begging for royal intervention, but now this is a matter of mages. It will be settled like mages. Get up you sniveling piece of shit.¡± Stumbling to his feet, Cranston pulled on the ambient essence to reinforce his shield. His face set in a snarl, he held his arms to his side and started gathering what he could. ¡°You were a commoner once, I¡¯ve heard the stories. Know that I will tear down your -¡± With a flick of his wrist, Jennings pulled Cranston¡¯s weave apart. As the weave broke into pieces, Jennings made sure to pull as much of Cranston¡¯s center as he could. With a shriek, Cranston fell to his knees and clutched his chest. ¡°I don¡¯t want to hear your blather. This is a kingdom of merit. I¡¯ve been here a thousand years, and I¡¯ll be here a thousand more. We have never stood for incompetent leaders and we never will,¡± Jennings said with a growl. Arch-Mage Jennings ripped into the ambient essence and forced his control into all of the essence in the giant room. He could hear the shocked gasps of the onlookers as they felt, probably for the first time in a long time, that they could not feel anything anything outside their body. Cranston just looked up in horror as his meager shield was violently torn from his body. ¡°While technically this execution is for refusal to follow your oaths, I want you to know that for me it is about Moorshire. Your laziness and dereliction of duty resulted in the death of over 150,000 people, and today they get the justice that they were denied by petty politics,¡± Jennings said, his voice echoing with power as the walls of the arena shook. Waving his hand, a pillar of fire erupted over Cranston. Extending from the floor to the ceiling, it was 3 units wide and so bright that the nobles hiding in the corner had to avert their eyes. As the pillar went out like a light being turned off, the arena seemed dark in the aftermath. It was as though the light that remained was ashamed it couldn¡¯t compete with the pillar¡¯s brilliance. Jennings looked at the charred remains, and wiped his hands like he just finished throwing out the trash. Turning to the nobles, Jennings said with a smile, ¡°I read on the Mage Tower calendar that there is a dinner for a new noble tonight. What¡¯s on the menu? I haven¡¯t had anything to eat in hours.¡± The narrative has been illicitly obtained; should you discover it on Amazon, report the violation. ----- Vera took advantage of the stupefied silence in the dining hall, and said, ¡°That¡¯s good advice Mr. Walker. Dessert¡¯s coming soon, so focus on that.¡± Nick looked to Arch-Mage Jennings and said, ¡°Young Nero here hasn¡¯t had any formal mage training. He has been getting into books on magic and experimenting. I¡¯ve looked at his notes, and I don¡¯t think he will be casting like a regular mage. He seems to interact with essence flows directly. I don¡¯t know why, and I haven¡¯t had a chance to ask him. I¡¯d be honored if you wanted to aid in his first lesson. We keep having to reschedule it.¡± Lord Bennings interrupted any response. ¡°That¡¯s all well and good. But he shouldn¡¯t be practicing at the table. Furthermore, there are more important things to address. Like we need to have him make the pledge, and figure out what we¡¯re going to do about his trials. He can¡¯t take them at 14, that would be barbaric. We also have to formally induct him into the nobility, and Lord Cosgrave still has to decide the distribution of spoils from the noble war, not to mention assigning responsibilities to House Walker,¡± she said in frustration. Immediately, the entire table heard Nero mutter, ¡°I¡¯d rather have that magic lesson if it¡¯s all the same to you.¡± Arch-Mage Jennings burst into laughter and chuckles came from everyone, including the two military men. With a smile, Lord Cosgrave said, ¡°I understand young man. But soon you¡¯ll be Lord Walker, and with that comes some responsibility. You and I have some decisions to make.¡± Nero looked at Vera, then turned back to Lord Cosgrave. ¡°No I don¡¯t, the first round of negotiations is with my counsel. Mrs. Salvatore will represent my interests. You guys can rough out a plan, then she¡¯ll explain it to me. It¡¯s better for everyone¡­ well it¡¯s better for me, but Mrs. Salvatore seems to approve, so I¡¯m going with it,¡± he said as he saw Vera¡¯s smile widen and her face morph into a fighter gearing up for battle. He looked to the arch-mage and Nick and said, ¡°You guys wanna take the dessert to go and head somewhere to talk magic and drink?¡± Without waiting for a response from the table, Jennings shot to his feet and said, ¡°Gods yes. Come along director of research, let¡¯s show this young man how magic is supposed to be cast.¡± Nick stood up and gave a wry grin to his wife. He said, ¡°Vera dear, please don¡¯t go overboard. They haven¡¯t done anything to us. Just look out for Nero, there¡¯s no need to unleash hell.¡± Jennings and Nick were already heading for the door, so Nero stood up. He bowed deeply and said, ¡°Thank you very much for dinner, Lord Cosgrave. It was lovely, but I guess I have to go with them. Until I¡¯m officially a noble or whatever, they both outrank me.¡± He leaned over and gave Vera a side hug. ¡°Thank you Auntie Vera, let me know what you decide.¡± As he went to meet Nick and Jennings at the door, he heard Vera¡¯s reply. ¡°I know what you''re doing, and I find it amusing enough to play along. Don¡¯t worry, your interests will be looked after, have fun.¡± With a quick wave over his shoulder, Nero and the two overgrown children went to go play with magic. Arch-Mage Jennings said, ¡°I know the perfect place to walk you through some beginner spells. I was there earlier, they should have cleaned it up by now.¡± As Jennings led them down the hallway, they heard a voice come from behind them. Captain Angelton was taking long strides to catch up. ¡°Hold on. I¡¯d like to observe if you don¡¯t mind. I¡¯ve been wanting to see the spell Nero developed. I¡¯ve seen the aftermath, and now I want to see the spell.¡± As they continued on, Nick turned to Nero. ¡°So you developed a spell?¡± He asked. Nero nodded as he ate his ice cream. He was the only one that picked one up on his way out of the room. It was very similar to vanilla, but it had a white chocolate syrup with some kind of jelly on the side. Overall, he liked it. However, he thought cookie dough with hot fudge would have been better. ¡°Well, what was the spell?¡± Nick asked, exasperated that Nero wasn¡¯t paying attention. ¡°Hmm¡­ Oh, it was a bomb,¡± Nero said. Turning to Arch-Mage Jennings, he asked, ¡°Hey, why couldn¡¯t I cast anything at the mercenaries. All of my essence threads fell apart when they got anywhere near them.¡± Jennings raised his eyebrows, and said, ¡°Essence threads? I¡¯m not familiar with the term. I understand what you mean, but it isn¡¯t right. Do you mean essence flows?¡± ¡°No, I could throw essence at them, but I couldn¡¯t control it while it was near them. I read about essence flows, that whole coaxing and filtering essence is really hard. I just grab what I need and shove it where I want it. It¡¯s much easier,¡± Nero said and then he went back to his ice cream. Annoyed, Nick said, ¡°Nero, what about your spell?¡± Nero swallowed, and replied, ¡°Oh right. Since I couldn¡¯t figure out how to cast magic near them, I had to come up with some kind of area of effect. So I made a bomb. I tried to just push a bunch of air together, but it was too hard. So I used a spell form from my household spells book. It was a spell form for condensing water vapor out of the air to make water. I figured that if instead of air and water essence, I used air and heat, I could condense hot air into a more controllable space. Then the more air I packed in, the more pressure would build. Right before I lost control, I threw in as much heat as I could. The air wanted to expand, and then the containment failed, and then it exploded. I put like a room full of air into a little ball then heated it up. It was awesome. I was lucky there was a desk to hide behind, cause damn did that spell work. Unfortunately, I was a little too close when I set off the last bomb, but it still worked,¡± Nero finished, then went back to his ice cream. Nick and Angelton were confused. That shouldn¡¯t have worked at all. Jennings chimed in, ¡°I was lucky enough to observe the fights he mentioned. Although a lot of what he just said is accurate, some of the details are a little bit off. He did use air and heat in a water condensation spell form. However, he used his psychic field for containment. Furthermore, he modified the spell form to accept an unrestricted flow of essence in only one direction. The spell form acted as the initial containment field. He also was compacting air essence, not air. He relied on the heat essence to warm the small amount of air until it almost ionized into plasma, then he flash-converted the air essence into air while right on top of the proto-plasma. The resultant change in pressure created a very large shock wave.¡± Both Angelton and Nick were nodding, as if impressed with the spell. Nero, however, was not amused. Nero said, ¡°How come you get appreciative nods when you said exactly what I said while talking like a tool?¡± Finished with his ice cream, Nero paused in the hallway and walked over to a servant who was going about their business. ¡°Hey man, you know where the kitchens are? I gotta drop off this dish,¡± he asked. The servant looked surprised, and replied, ¡°You can just hand it to me sir. I can take it.¡± Nero gave him a questioning look. ¡°You sure man? I don¡¯t want to put you out. I¡¯m sure you''re doing¡­ whatever it is you''re doing. I don¡¯t mind,¡± he said. Smiling, the servant said, ¡°Yes, sir. It¡¯s fine, I can take it.¡± Shrugging, Nero handed him the dish and said, ¡°Alright man, thanks. Let them know it was really good. But maybe they should add some cookie dough, and replace the white chocolate with fudge. They¡¯ll love it. Take it easy.¡± Rejoining the trio, Nero said, ¡°Sorry about that, let¡¯s go.¡± Nick was chuckling, and said, ¡°You¡¯re going to make a terrible noble.¡± Apparently, they had arrived at their destination, as Jennings waved open the doors and said, ¡°Here we are. This is an arena room, we can use this without fear of destroying anything.¡± Nero asked, ¡°Why does it smell like bacon?¡± Arch-Mage Jenning¡¯s smile wavered as he said, ¡°No reason.¡± Captain Angelton¡¯s expression didn¡¯t break as he chimed in, ¡°That¡¯s not bacon, this is an arena. Take another guess.¡± Nero looked confused for a moment, then realized that he was smelling cooked people. ¡°OK, that¡¯s just gross,¡± he said. After having a full body shiver, he chose to ignore the smell and moved on to more important things. Nero clapped his hands in anticipation and asked, ¡°Now who has something in their personal space that I can blow up?¡± Chapter 38 - Self-taught perfection in action. Lord Cosgrave, and those remaining at the lavish dinner table, watched as Nero, Nick, and Jennings left to go have an impromptu magic lesson. She looked over at Vera Salvatore and grimaced. Noting the woman¡¯s wide smile, she realized this was going to be an unpleasant conversation. Before she could take control of the conversation, the general spoke up, ¡°Angelton, I want you to go with them. Try to get that boy interested in tactics and combat. I don¡¯t want a tactical mind like his to be locked in some tower. Right now he is looking for a path, and he needs options. Give him some.¡± The Captain wiped his mouth with a napkin and stood up. With a bow to the table, he said, ¡°Thank you for the meal M¡¯Lord. It appears I have a duty to attend to.¡± With long strides the captain left to catch up with the mages. Lord Cosgrave took the opportunity to seize the initiative. ¡°Before anything else, we¡¯ll address the distribution of spoils. Of course, Mr. Walker will have to take the pledge before he receives anything,¡± she said, nodding to Lord Bennings who was about to mention the applicable laws. Vera said, ¡°That¡¯s acceptable. The trials and his future will be addressed in due time. What were the specifics of his reward?¡± Lord Cosgrave replied, ¡°The Noble War results were tabulated and posted by the Populators. They acted as arbiters since they were here. Their findings stated that Mr. Walker earned 20% of the Dorchen fortune, elevation to the rank of minor noble, and a residence in the city he defended.¡± Lord Bennings clarified, ¡°The residence was to be a Dorchen property, but does not count toward the 20%. It was listed as a separate reward, it must be taken from the spoils before they are divided, and then awarded separately.¡± The general and Vera both smiled, as Lord Cosgrave grimaced. Nick¡¯s brother, Lord Salvatore, just sat there looking uncomfortable being included in this conversation. Lord Cosgrave gave Lord Bennings a cold stare. ¡°Thank you for the clarification. Now the details of what constitutes the 20% were left to MY discretion,¡± she said. Turning to Vera, she said, ¡°I mean no insult to House Walker, but as it is a new house, without backing, and considering the head of the house¡¯s age, I¡¯m reluctant to offer any interests. I propose that Dorchester hosts an auction for the Dorchen interests and assets, and 20% of the proceeds will be considered the award.¡± Vera nodded in understanding. ¡°That sounds very reasonable. But, in the interests of precision, I¡¯d like to clarify a few things. First, the Dorchen¡¯s mansion located in the inner ring is the obvious choice for Lord Walker¡¯s city residence. You could consider it the award for Mr. Walker¡¯s heroic actions while saving the lives of your children. Second, considering that my husband has a standing invitation to start a branch under House Salvatore, Mr. Walker is not without backing. Third, age and history has never been a valid factor in considering the distribution of spoils,¡± she said with a polite smile. Turning to Nick¡¯s brother, Lord Salvatore, she continued, ¡°I¡¯ve spoken with Nick and he is delighted to accept your offer. He will be applying for the patent of nobility tomorrow, and we look forward to a prosperous working relationship with you.¡± Looking over at Lord Bennings, ¡°And isn¡¯t it customary for the house receiving the award to host the auction? I appreciate the city lord¡¯s efforts to help a new noble find his place in the city he defended with his life, but the fees associated with an auction of this kind should be substantial. The profits will be substantial as well. I¡¯d like to request an auditor from the Tower of Law to oversee the accuracy of the accounting. We wouldn¡¯t like any irregularities to become an issue.¡± Lord Cosgrave looked at Lord Salvatore¡¯s shoulders, and watched him wilt further into his chair. He wouldn¡¯t be of any help. The general was looking at Vera like he had never seen her before, but was now treating her as a dangerous ambush predator. Lord Bennings just sat there smiling and admiring Vera¡¯s attention to protocol. With a sigh, Lord Cosgrave said, ¡°All good points Mrs. Salvatore.¡± If she couldn¡¯t skim from the auction, perhaps Lord Cosgrave could redirect the focus of the discussion. There was no way that Vera knew about the Dorchen¡¯s business interests. After all, the woman worked in a Center, those people are always focused on paths over profits. Lord Cosgrave said, ¡°The idea of an auction was just an idle thought. Of course it would be simpler if one of the interests could be transferred to House Walker directly. Finding one that constitutes 20% of the Dorchen fortune exactly would be difficult, but accountants can be very precise. I¡¯m sure within a month, an accurate audit could be performed.¡± Vera smiled politely, and took a sip of her wine. ¡°Another splendid suggestion m¡¯lord. I do wonder who would be running the interests during that month. As the Noble War ended last night, come tomorrow the interests will be adrift. A firm hand will be required to make sure that they retain their value, and don¡¯t sell off portions to family friends and associates. I¡¯d again ask for an auditor from the Tower of Law. They have an entire division to examine unethical business practices just for occasions like these. I¡¯m good friends with the departmental head, I could ping her if you¡¯d like?¡± Vera said, causing Lord Cosgrave¡¯s smile to tighten. Lord Salvatore¡¯s back was sweating. He could feel the pressure in the room building. He¡¯d seen this countless times, over many years. No one, absolutely no one, got one over on Vera Salvatore. She already had the optimal outcome determined before she sat down. The discussion they were having was a farce. He could only offer a pained smile in commiseration with Lord Cosgrave. Vera Salvatore sat in her chair, the image of calm, sipping her wine and smiling politely. She didn¡¯t seem in a hurry to push the conversation forward. She just directed her polite, unblinking stare at the city lord, and waited for the next turn in the game. Lord Heleema Cosgrave was tapping her finger on the table. How had she never noticed such a viper in her city. Her thoughts went back to her mother¡¯s teachings. She had told Heleema, ¡°There are always sleepers. Be cautious with your moves, because you don¡¯t know who you will provoke. Some people prefer not to get involved. Most of those people will buckle under your pressure. However, there are some who don¡¯t get involved because they fear what they do when they become involved. You can¡¯t plan for them, no amount of preparation can prepare you for their entrance into your game. All you can do is minimize their impact on your interests. You must feed them an enemy, or give them a reason to resume their lives, even humble yourself if you have to. And remember, they didn¡¯t want to be involved. As long as their reason for waking is addressed, they¡¯ll go back to sleep. Your game is not with them. It is with your original opponents, for they are always awake and they hunger for what you have.¡± Nodding as if she had decided something, Lord Cosgrave¡¯s posture relaxed. She leaned back into her chair at the head of the table and said, ¡°Mrs. Salvatore, your suggestions are welcome. You have a keen mind, and I''m sure that you can offer great insight into the matter at hand. What would you suggest we do to address House Walker¡¯s spoils?¡± Raising an eyebrow in surprise, Vera saw the city lord¡¯s play for what it was: a surrender. Lord Cosgrave hid her smile, as she noticed Vera¡¯s smile dim. The woman was unhappy that the game had ended. She now had the measure of Mrs. Vera Salvatore. As long as the woman wasn¡¯t provoked, she was content to live her life in peace. Perhaps, in the future, that trait could be of use. Stolen from Royal Road, this story should be reported if encountered on Amazon. Vera sighed and said, ¡°Thank you for your words m¡¯lord. I think it might be easier to just transfer a small shipping interest to House Walker. As I am the silent director of ¡®Precision Shipping¡¯, I can offer some help to House Walker with running the interest. If I am not mistaken, Dorchen shipping accounts for approximately 18% of their annual profit.¡± Everyone was both surprised and confused at Vera¡¯s knowledge of the Dorchen interests. Seeing their confusion, she continued, ¡°As I knew the Dorchens were the source of the spoils, I made a few pings during dinner. With the addition of 20% of their account balances, verified through the tower of law, that should be enough to address the spoil distribution until such time as the Tower of Law can oversee a fair auction for the remainder of the Dorchen estate. That should fulfill the reward requirements, am I correct Lord Bennings?¡± With a look of shock, Lord Bennings replied, ¡°Yes. That should account for 20% of the Dorchen estate, and the Tower of Law would be happy to see to the dissolution of the estate. It shouldn¡¯t take more than a month or two.¡± Lord Salvatore spoke up, ¡°When did you start a shipping company? How did I not know about that?¡± Vera replied with a smirk, ¡°I didn¡¯t start a shipping company. I acquired it from your sister when she demanded an official duel. All of her assets became mine after my victory, as stated in the agreement she made when she demanded my presence in the arena. You assumed I¡¯d sell them... I didn¡¯t. And since House Salvatore wasn¡¯t associated with my husband at the time, they weren¡¯t required to be informed of what I did with them.¡± Lord Cosgrave was happy with the outcome. Although she gained substantially less than she could have, she managed to put Vera Salvatore back to sleep. It had cost her nothing, only lost profits that weren¡¯t hers to begin with, and some pride. Her mother would be proud. ----- Captain Angelton summoned a large square shield in front of them. It was relatively translucent and glowing with a golden hue. Both Arch-Mage Jennings and Nick didn¡¯t appear very impressed, but Nero was fascinated. Nero poked the shield with his finger, and it was like touching a floating wall. Stepping to the side, he examined the edge. It looked razor sharp, and he didn¡¯t want to test it. While he was doing his examination, the other three just watched on in amusement. ¡°Alright young Nero, enough waiting. I want to see your spell in action. Just treat the dummy like an enemy, and hide behind the shield,¡± Jennings said while sounding rather impatient. ¡°Fine. But someone is showing me how to make a shield. If I had one of these, I wouldn¡¯t have blown myself up,¡± Nero finished with a mutter. Focusing on the dummy, Nero spread his psychic field and took hold of the ambient essence. He didn¡¯t notice as the three old men exchanged perplexed looks. Using air essence to sculpt the spell form, he started pumping in air and heat essence. It seemed easier to compress his spell than he remembered, but he chalked it up to not currently being in a life and death situation. It only took a moment for Nero to decide that it was ready. He released his hold on the heat essence, so that it would transfer the collected energy into the compressed air. The air essence condensed into actual air and the temperature spiked. Rather than hold on to the spell form, he let it explode, but this time kept his psychic field active to watch the result. The collected air flashed a bright white, and his spell form was shredded as the bubble expanded. The light faded as the air pressure equalized. The explosive decompression caused the dummy to fold at the hip and launch toward one of the walls. It stayed airborne for longer than Nero expected, but it didn¡¯t reach the wall. It just slid to a stop in a tangled heap. The bubble of air reached the shield, and it flashed a solid gold. The air whipped past the observers and they felt the room shake. Silence held for a second, until Nero said, ¡°Huh, the spell form really only collected the compressed heat essence. The explosion was just air pressure, I thought I remembered fire, but it was just really hot air.¡± The three older men watched as Nero narrowed his eyes in thought. His eyes widened and he practically screamed, ¡°FUEL! I need to add something to burn. Hydrogen and air can burn together I think. And most of the spell form isn¡¯t needed. I just need the section that collects the heat and air essence. I can hold the heat essence while it¡¯s in the compression bubble, along with the actual bubble. When it gets too hard, I can just let everything go at once. I don¡¯t have to concentrate on the filter part at all. I bet that it was only there to help convert water vapor in order to make the water essence solidify better.¡± Finishing his analysis with a nod, Nero turned to the men. They were all just staring at him. Captain Angelton was sporting a smirk. He just snorted and went to examine the blast site and the dummy. Nick looked mortified, like Nero just launched a cat with a homemade potato gun. It was Jennings who sported a crazy grin and said, ¡°That was the dumbest, most brilliant thing I¡¯ve seen in years. Over the scry I could see the essence, but I couldn¡¯t see how you used your psychic field. You cast like an idiot. It¡¯s amazing!¡± He finished with his hands waving around in jubilation. Nero liked the tone, but not the old man¡¯s words. ¡°What do you mean? I¡¯m casting like the book said. How about you stop your word vomit and show me how you¡¯re supposed to cast the spell,¡± he said and crossed his arms. Nick was shaking his head in exasperation. He stepped in front of Nero and held his hands up to Jennings. ¡°Please don¡¯t take offense at his words. He doesn¡¯t understand who you are. I apologize on behalf of House Walker,¡± he pleaded. Jennings looked confused, then started laughing. ¡°Don¡¯t worry director. I¡¯m not offended. The boy just wants to learn some magic. What kind of an arch-mage would stifle that kind of enthusiasm.¡± Turning to Nero, Jennings said, ¡°Come here boy, stand next to me. Spread out your psychic field, but don¡¯t exert your control.¡± Nero shot Nick a dirty look, apparently offended that Nick apologized for him. Standing next to Jennings, he let his psychic field spread and sensed the essence in room. ¡°No, No, No. You¡¯re trying to control the essence. Just open yourself up to feel it. You¡¯re wasting your energy doing it the way you''re doing. The lightest touch is all you need, you can feel other people¡¯s fields of control,¡± Jennings coached Nero. Getting the hang of it, Nero realized that he had never just let the essence flow around him without impeding it. He never tried to just feel the essence. With the lightest touch, he could now feel where his control ended. He also sensed the small bubbles of essence around Nick and Jennings. Although he couldn¡¯t control anything within their control fields, he could ¡®see¡¯ the essence they were using. It looked like they had a bubble of control extending an arms length all around them. Jennings also had a tightly woven mesh of condensed essence in a field around his body, like a full body wet-suit. ¡°Is this why I couldn¡¯t affect the essence near the mercenaries? I couldn¡¯t even sense anything near them,¡± Nero asked. Nick replied, ¡°Yes. Everyone has a field of control based on a combination of several factors. The inherent control distance is emitted from your body and soul. The area of your psychic field is a combination of your mind and body. It takes a strong mind to influence essence within an opponents inherent control distance. Doing so is called, ¡®breaking their circle¡¯. Once you control the essence surrounding someone, that is usually when the fight ends.¡± Jennings nodded and said, ¡°That¡¯s correct, but let¡¯s just focus on casting for the moment.¡± Nero interrupted, ¡°Hold on, what¡¯s with all the essence wrapped around your body?¡± Jennings eyebrows rose. ¡°You can sense that? Remarkable. It¡¯s an essence shield. When in combat, mages use them to protect themselves. It isn¡¯t an easy technique, and most people only bother when combat is eminent. However, I tend to keep one active at all times. I never like to be unprotected,¡± he said. Nero focused on trying to understand the shield. Nodding he said, ¡°It¡¯s only paranoia if no one is out to get you. And someone is always out to get you.¡± ¡°Well said. Now pay attention to the spell form that I create. You watching? Good,¡± Jennings said. He watched as Nero focused all his attention on the air in front of them. Jennings formed a simple essence collection form using his center, and then created a ball of hydrogen and some oxygen. He allowed a small flow of heat essence to enter it, and the ball ignited. Nero used his psychic field to see the spell form appear from what appeared to be ¡®Jennings essence¡¯. His jaw dropped, as the ball of air and fuel were pulled out of the ambient air. When the heat essence seemed to flow of it¡¯s own accord toward the ball, and simply brush it, the ball ignited. Nero¡¯s eyes were wide as he watched the floating ball of fire hover in front of them. In a hushed and reverent whisper, Nero said, ¡°You have your own essence. Just how powerful are you?¡± Jennings kept the spell form feeding the ball of fire, and turned to see Nick bursting out in laughter. He couldn¡¯t keep his amusement in check and joined in. It was their laughter that clued Nero in to the obvious. He was missing something. Something obvious. As they tried to control their laughter, Nero said in a cold tone, ¡°You guys are dicks.¡± Chapter 39 - Maybe he should have gone to class. Mistress Deidre Cosgrave was a 17 year old child, and she knew it. She was always the smartest one in her class, but comparing herself to the people she admired, she knew she had a lot to learn. She respected her mother, the city lord, along with those who had experience and guile. One day she would be like them, and people would ask for HER opinion. Until recently, she had considered her brother Derek an intelligent young man. He was 19, and seemed to radiate a quiet wisdom and nobility. However, over the last year she started to notice things that called that opinion into question. She saw the cracks in his facade. Growing up, she wondered why her mother was always radiating her disappointment with Derek. Now she couldn¡¯t help but see what her mother saw. His flaw was that he always thought he knew better. Her brother¡¯s voice brought her out of her thoughts. ¡°Deidre, I found it,¡± he said with pride. She shook her head, ¡°This is a bad idea. The risk is not worth the reward.¡± Sitting in the observation room, Derek was filtering through the castle feeds to find the dinner that their mother warned them to avoid. Derek had agreed to stay away, but thought watching the dinner was a brilliant counter-move. Deidre could feel the disapproval from Katerina, their Center Advisor. It was radiating from the corner of the room. Katerina had been in charge of their education and training since they were children. She was always there when they needed her, but still let Deidre and Derek make mistakes. ¡®Mistakes are the fertilizer for growth. If you don¡¯t learn from them, you¡¯re not using them right,¡¯ she had told them. Katerina had not said a word as Derek outlined his plan. And now Deidre looked at her standing by the door, arms crossed in disapproval, watching Derek manipulate the security cameras. Reassuring his sister, Derek said, ¡°We aren¡¯t doing anything wrong. Besides, this is a secondary observation room. No one will know we were here. I just want to see what¡¯s so special about this commoner that is being raised into nobility. Maybe we¡¯ll even find out something about the Arch-Mage that showed up.¡± The holograms in front of them displayed Nero walking alongside a captain and two people that Deidre recognized. One was the head of Gate 7 research. She had seen Nicholas Salvatore give a lecture on essence infusion. The man was brilliant. At the end of the lecture, she had met his wife. She remembered the woman being very exacting. At the time, Deidre noted how Mrs. Salvatore didn¡¯t radiate any emotion other than calm. She wondered what they had to do with the boy they were now escorting to meet the city lord, her mother. She and her brother watched them sit down to dinner, and Deidre noticed that Derek was focused on the screen like it owed him money. His brow was furrowed, and his eyes never left Nero Walker. They all watched Nero deflect questions, and push all of the responsibility off on the Salvatores. Perhaps the Salvatores would back his new house? Vera Salvatore was going to act as his House¡¯s proxy. Vera¡¯s husband was a branch head? No doubt, that was a bold choice. Every word out of Nero¡¯s mouth was both idiotic and careful. He was a very difficult young man to read, just like he was when she and her brother had met him last night. Deidre felt Katerina approach and look over her shoulder at the screens. Apparently, she was interested in the boy as well. Katerina¡¯s psychic field radiated her curiosity like a beacon. Derek zoomed in on Nero as the nobles made small talk and probed each other¡¯s personalities. It was obvious that the real conversation had yet to begin. Deidre couldn¡¯t figure out what had her brother so interested, Nero didn¡¯t look like he was even paying attention. Then she noticed the glass on the table. The dinner party went silent as Nero was casting something. Soon Arch-Mage Jennings was nearly bouncing in his seat with approval. Deidre looked at her brother, and could see the resentment in his eyes. She thought back to her mother¡¯s prediction and warning. As usual, her brother kept his own counsel, and was ignoring their mother''s advice. They watched as Nero absolved himself of the responsibility of negotiating with the city lord, while convincing the arch-mage and the director of gate 7 research into offering a personal lesson in magic. ¡®Did he plan this? Was he using the absurdity of casting at the dinner table as a lure? Was gaining the attention of the new court mage his goal all along?¡¯ she wondered. Derek was using the hallway feeds to follow Nero and the mages, and they were soon met by Captain Angelton. ¡°Bring up the dining room. That is the current front of the game. He has retreated from the front and is gaining allies, but he left his proxy surrounded. We need to see why,¡± Deidre said in a voice that brooked no argument. Katerina nodded and radiated pride in her student. Derek only sighed in annoyance, and changed the cameras back to the dining room. They rolled back the recording to see what happened after Nero left. Witnessing their mother being artfully countered, all of them felt a pit in their gut. Vera Salvatore even turned their mother¡¯s allies presence to her advantage. Deidre let out a gasp of surprise as she recognized her mother¡¯s withdrawal from the game. Derek had a frown on his face and seemed to ask the monitor, ¡°I don¡¯t understand. Did you just let that woman win? You left a fortune on the table. What¡¯s your game mother?¡± Katerina spoke from behind the two Cosgrave heirs, ¡°When you find yourself in a position with nothing to gain, you don¡¯t fight for advantage. The goal isn¡¯t to always win, it¡¯s to never lose. Lord Cosgrave won, and she did it by surrendering the enemy¡¯s territory. You have a lot to learn Master Cosgrave, and it¡¯s time you realized that.¡± With a wave of Katerina¡¯s hand, Derek and Deidre¡¯s chairs were pushed aside to make way for her to reach the console. Manipulating the controls, she switched the cameras back over to Nero. He was in the arena, having his lesson. ¡°This is who you should be concerned about. Did you see how the boy presented himself as a joke? But look at the facts. He walked into a room with the weakest position possible. He¡¯s a new noble, with no backing. Yet, he leveraged his pieces perfectly, spoke nothing but riddles, and left with converted allies. I¡¯m finding it increasingly difficult to believe that his successes are accidents. Did his plan begin when he found out that he would be a noble? Or was it last night, when he declared as an independent?¡± She said. Manipulating the holograms to show the captain examining the explosion. She focused the image on the splayed and broken limbs of what was once a military training dummy. Katerina took a step back from the console, as if to clear the area so the Cosgrave heirs could see clearly. Crossing her arms, she said, ¡°This Nero Walker is not an enemy to target. He is an obstacle to be avoided. I agree with your mother¡¯s play. There is no reason to fight unless we manufacture one.¡± ----- Arch-Mage Jennings and Nick reeled in their laughter. Adopting sheepish expressions, they exchanged looks. Their silent conversation resulted in Jennings taking the lead. ¡°Nero, we¡¯re sorry for laughing. I assure you that we weren¡¯t laughing at you. It¡¯s just that your question was very amusing. It¡¯s because of how you cast. You see, everyone is taught to cast using their center to form the spell forms, then isolate the flows of essence to do what the spell requires,¡± he said in what he hoped was a kind and considerate tone. Support creative writers by reading their stories on Royal Road, not stolen versions. Nero nodded, and rubbed his chin in thought. Turning to Nick, he asked, ¡°It¡¯s like earlier when you had me use my center to ¡®activate¡¯ or ¡®bond¡¯ with my clothes. I don¡¯t know what you call it. But that was me using my center, right?¡± Nick replied, ¡°Yes. That¡¯s your center. Normally, that is how a person casts spells. I don¡¯t know where you got the idea to just manipulate raw essence like that. Didn¡¯t the books mention flows? Instead of letting the essence move as you guide it, you seem to grab hold of the essence and force it to do what you want. In addition, you used ambient essence to create spell forms. That¡¯s just madness, the only reason it didn¡¯t explode was that you were using air. What made you think of that?¡± Nero looked at the two in confusion. ¡°I was casting a spell in the air, you think I¡¯d try to use earth or water? The spell form would just crumble apart when I added the essence components. I would use water to cast in water, and earth to cast in the ground. I can see how using your center probably makes things easier. Wait¡­. Is that how you stamp? You just ¡®will¡¯ the pattern into existence with your center?¡± Nero asked. Without waiting for a reply, Nero pulled from his center and created a standard light spell. Instead of creating it with air, then feeding the component essences of light and air, Nero ¡®stamped¡¯ the image of what is was supposed to look like into being. The spell form appeared, and starting sucking in the light and air flows from the essence all around them. Almost instantly, a ball of light appeared. Shocked gasps came from both Nick and Jennings. ¡°Did you see that?¡± Jennings said in a loud voice, apparently talking to Nick. ¡°I saw it. I saw it. He did a pattern stamp on his first try. In fact, he imparted it so strongly that the essence leapt to fill the inputs. I didn¡¯t see any flows being directed, did you?¡± Nick replied as he leaned forward and seemed to concentrate on the floating light. Nero was ignoring the two old men as they went back and forth. His focus was on the pattern, it was losing it¡¯s ¡®permanence¡¯. When he first created it, he felt the world almost lurch. It was like he was demanding that the pattern exist, but with every second passing his demand was turning into a suggestion. Nero watched as the essence stopped flowing toward the inputs. Taking control of the essence flows, he coaxed them into place, and he watched as the spell form kept up the conversion from the light and air into a ball of light. Yet, the spell form was still weakening. He needed to add another flow, one which connected his center to the spell form in order to feed its identity. It¡¯s existence was predicated on his will. While the mage and researcher were arguing over the little ball of light, Captain Angelton had come over to observe Nero¡¯s spell. As they had their lively debate, Nero was focusing on his findings. As his smile grew, Nero watched with mad delight as the ball flickered and changed. He played with adding heat and using an intent filter to add hydrogen. He was feeling the world warp to include his wishes into reality. ¡®This is what being a mage is. Not forcing essence to do what I want, or convincing it with a nudge. Magic is imparting my will on reality. The building blocks of that reality are all around me. I am the architect. I create the shape with my very being, and the world places the blocks. I will it, and reality is rewritten!¡¯ Nero thought with wonder. An idle thought popped into Nero¡¯s head, and he opened his identity.
Name Nero Walker Level 6
Race Human Growth 84%
Tier 1 Condition 100%
Age 14 Center 48%
Body 1 Mind 1
Soul 1 Confluence 10
Stars 2 Pillars 0/0
Nero watched as the percentage counter for his center ticked down. He thinned his connection to the spell, he didn¡¯t need to use so much to keep the spell going. He found a nice balance, and realized that if he was careful, a spell could be held for about a minute per percentage point. While he had his identity open, he noticed his growth. He was still looking at a level a day, more or less. That was 100 times faster than the books characterized ¡®fast growth¡¯. That was interesting, but it wasn¡¯t his focus. As he reminded himself about priorities, and his intention to be a super mage with a traveling tower, he saw his growth go up by a point. ¡®That¡¯s the secret to leveling. Knowing what you want, and going for it. Learning along the way, and paying attention to what¡¯s important. The fucking self help posters had it right all along. I need to keep my goal in my heart, and keep my eyes open on the journey,¡¯ he thought to himself. Nero closed his identity, and released his center from the spell form. It started to deteriorate again, but more slowly than before. He was sure there was something to deduce from that observation. However, now was not the time. Returning his attention to the conversation going on around him, Nero heard Captain Angelton speaking, ¡°¡­ considered a tactical asset. I can¡¯t think of anyone in Dorchester that could serve as a better combat instructor.¡± Jennings snorted, ¡°I¡¯d serve just fine, but I don¡¯t want to infect him with my preconceptions. It is imperative that we give as little input as possible. The three of us have to offer enough information for him to come to his own conclusions, without arbitrarily setting limits. Based on his history, this Specialist Howard seems like a fine choice. 5 days a week with you and him at the compound should cover physical and magic combat. The remaining 5 days will be split as needed between the director and me. While you focus on combat, we will focus on the world. Everything from the essence cycle, to theories on the origins of the identity.¡± Captain Angelton and Nick were nodding along. They seemed to collectively notice that Nero was now paying attention. Nick asked, ¡°What do you think Nero? This is your path after all. You need to decide on where that path leads.¡± Nero looked up at the three very serious men. ¡°Um¡­ That all sounds good. But I think you¡¯re forgetting about Mrs. Salvatore. She¡¯s off planning my immediate future with the city lord. Until she weighs in, I will agree to nothing. Since I¡¯ve arrived here, she¡¯s had my back. I trust her,¡± he said quietly, but firmly. Nick smiled and nodded. Jennings and Angelton shared a look, then gave Nero a nod in approval. Jennings said, ¡°Following the advice of your house¡¯s chosen steward is a good policy. I¡¯ve been watching her demolish the city lord in the game, she has served your house well.¡± Nick chuckled and said, ¡°Vera always gets what she wants. Always. It¡¯s gotten to the point that I don¡¯t even bother to argue, unless it¡¯s for fun. Getting her riled up is¡­ well, that¡¯s not important. But you can split your mind and observe at this distance from the dining hall? That¡¯s incredible. Arch-mages really are the peak of the kingdom.¡± Nero piped in, ¡°Look, this was great and all. But it¡¯s been a long day. Nick, I need you to show me how to get back to the dorms, and tomorrow I need to use my stars. I should have another three to go by the morning. I¡¯m thinking confluence, soul, and mind for them. I still don¡¯t really understand the stress part, but they¡¯ll offer the most growth I think.¡± Jennings responded with a hungry look, ¡°Nero, would you mind if I observed. I know it¡¯s incredibly rude, but I promise not to interrupt or steal any of the director¡¯s work. I just want to be in the room and observe the essence flows.¡± Captain Angelton was lost, he asked, ¡°What are you all talking about? Stars like in his identity?¡± Nick just shook his head at Nero sharing his secrets without concern. Turning to the two men, he said, ¡°Nero is letting me measure his growth while he uses his stars. He doesn¡¯t seem to suffer soul-bloat like most people. Because of that, he tends to save his stars. With his ridiculous leveling speed, the origin of which is still a mystery, they have accumulated.¡± Nero spoke up, ¡°Yup. And I need to get to spending them. I think I got smarter last time, and I heal really fast now too. Everything is better with just one star. I¡¯m looking forward to the increases. I read that ¡®stat stress¡¯ should be considered. Anyway, we¡¯ll talk about it tomorrow. I need to head to sleep.¡± Patting his satchel and making sure he had everything, Nero continued, ¡°Nick, I¡¯m sure you want to wait for Mrs. Salvatore, but I just need you to point me toward the teleporter thingy. I¡¯m sure I can get directions on the way.¡± Turning to Angelton and Jennings, he said, ¡°It was nice hanging out with you guys. Cap, you got to show me how to do shields some time. And you Mr. Arch-mage will be showing me a lot of stuff. I¡¯ll consider your continued instruction payment for attending my testing. Nick sets the rules, but I¡¯ll allow you to be there in exchange for showing me stuff. Deal?¡± Jennings nodded, and said, ¡°That sounds fair. Do you have everything you need on you right now? Or do you have to return to the dining room?¡± From the corner of his eye, Nero saw Nick and Angelton smile. Narrowing his eyes, he looked at Jennings and said, ¡°Yes. I have everything on me. Why?¡± Nick patted Nero on the shoulder and said with a smile, ¡°Nero, he is an arch-mage. They live by different rules than the rest of us. Remember when you told me that you wanted to be an army destroying, reality-warping¡­ whatever? Well, that would be an arch-mage. I¡¯ll see you tomorrow at 7 in my lab. Sleep well.¡± Both Nick and Angelton then took a step back. Before Nero could say anything in response, he saw Arch-mage Jennings wave his hand. Nero¡¯s world turned white and gold, then he blinked and he was in his dorm room, stumbling as the disorientation hit. Looking around, Nero realized that Jennings had forcibly teleported him directly into his dorm room. Taking a second to let the stunned look fade from his face, Nero tossed his satchel on his desk and kicked off his boots. Figuring that the bastards were scrying him, he pointed both middle fingers in the air and said, ¡°Thanks for the lift, but you guys are still dicks.¡± Chapter 40 - The end of a long day Arch-mage Mathers was standing at the back of the council hall. He had been summoned to account for his colleague¡¯s actions. He wasn¡¯t worried, the entire procedure was going to just be a theater production for the nobles. If there was one thing he and his colleague, Arch-mage Jennings, agreed on, it was that nobles were a necessary evil on par with cafeteria lines. The entire kingdom was organized in a way that could only function with the House system intact. By fostering the honor and reputation system, the first king had done a masterful job of leashing the economic power houses of his time. In ages past, those with power abused their positions. But, by codifying the benefits of nobility, and punishing transgressions harshly, the nobles now fight each other to be considered ¡®better¡¯ than the others. The entire system was brilliant, while also being inherently sad. It was a depressing realization for all involved when they had to accept that politics and caste systems were an inevitability. However, the data didn¡¯t lie. No simulation ever came close to the stability that this system provided. With all that being taken into account, Mathers still hated coming to these council meetings. He looked around the room. Hundreds of attendants in the balconies were silently watching the proceedings. In the middle of the room was a circle under a soft, but bright light. The nobles sat at their large unnecessarily ornate tables surrounding the supplicant¡¯s podium. The gold motif on the royals thrones set them apart from the dark mahogany wood that made up the rest of the room. ¡®This could all be done through pings. This is such a waste of a morning. I wonder what Jennings discovered during Nero¡¯s test?¡¯ he thought as his mind wandered. The council speaker¡¯s voice interrupted his thoughts. ¡°The council calls to the podium Arch-mage Mathers of the Hennings Tower of Magic. Voice of the mage tower, come forward and be heard,¡± intoned the obnoxious man. Mathers was lazy, and didn¡¯t care if he showed it. Instead of walking up the steps from the recessed floor, he floated up to the podium. ¡®This room is stupid. No room needs to be this big. Most people at the back aren¡¯t even a high enough level to see or hear what the hell is going on. Morons, all of them,¡¯ he thought as he tried to hide his annoyance. Landing lightly, he gave a bow. Looking at the king, he said, ¡°Sire, you have called, and the tower has answered. What can we do for you?¡± The king sat on his throne, legs crossed and a smile on his face. ¡°We would like an explanation of Arch-mage Jennings¡¯ actions yesterday. I¡¯m sure you¡¯ve heard what he did, and the results of his trip to Dorchester. As he hasn¡¯t returned, you will have to answer for him,¡± the king said in a tone that was without emotion. He could have been asking about the weather. Mathers nodded. Putting on his most serious face, he said, ¡°We of the Tower of Magic apologize for the confusion that Arch-mage Jennings must have caused. It was, however, unavoidable. Yesterday, a sworn mage of the tower refused his orders, and went rogue. It was the court mage of Dorchester. As the kingdom and the tower both take oaths of service seriously, the head of the tower went personally to deal with the renegade.¡± Mathers looked solemn as he spoke the heavy words. The entire hall gasped in surprise. An oath-breaker! A court mage oath-breaker at that! How scandalous! One of the nobles on the council spoke up. ¡°What was the order that he refused? Was the order lawful?¡± she asked. Apparently, she hadn¡¯t bothered to read the brief. The king looked over at her with frown of disappointment. ¡°The council should be aware that it has no place in the running of the towers, only with setting policy. But, I will allow this question. All will know what prompted the renegade¡¯s actions. Speak plainly Arch-mage, and let all doubt be dispelled.¡± Mathers knew what the king wanted, and he played his part accordingly. ¡°The council of mages had ordered the court mage to watch over a new noble. He was to protect him from nefarious schemes and foster his growth from a distance. The new noble was raised that day, and had earned his title as an independent during a noble war. His heroics saved the lives of the heirs of the city lord, and showed remarkable insight into new ways of manipulating essence. ¡°When ordered to protect the young man, the court mage thought that the task was below him. His words were that ¡®if the boy dies, then that is his fate¡¯. As everyone here knows, new nobles have 100 years of protection under the crown. The tower¡¯s orders were in support of that edict,¡± Mathers finished with a voice of iron support for the crown. Nodding, the king said in loud voice, ¡°I allowed the tower of magic to act in accordance with their principles. The orders were just, and to ignore them out of pride was an insult to the oaths that the renegade swore. Arch-mage Jennings did his duty. Although the outcome was tragic, it was necessary. No one is above the law of Oglivarch. Any other questions?¡± Another noble, who didn¡¯t seem to be intimidated by the speeches spoke up, ¡°I have three questions. Why hasn¡¯t the Arch-mage returned? Do you lead the tower in his absence? And who will be appointed to the court mage position in Dorchester?¡± The king sighed in annoyance, and gestured for Mathers to just get on with it. Mathers looked at the noble in disgust. ¡°Matters of the tower, as previously stated, are not your concern. However, if you must know, then Arch-mage Jennings will be staying in Dorchester for a while. He is going to go through the Tower of Magic in Dorchester with a fine tooth comb to see what else your son ignored. So far he has found evidence that your son ignored the bribing of mages who were responsible for hiding an army, and a rather extensive smuggling operation. That operation included arms and essence crystals being sold to Islangur. The Arch-mage has been there less than a day, who knows what else he¡¯ll find. For the foreseeable future, he¡¯ll be stuck there cleaning up your son¡¯s mess, ¡®Lord¡¯ Cranston. ¡°As for the Tower of Magic here, I will lead the mage council for the time being. I¡¯ll be more than happy to personally address any of your concerns. Anywhere. Anytime,¡± Mathers finished with a sneer. As Lord Cranston paled, the king addressed the council. ¡°The matter of treason is being addressed. The Populators have already purged the House responsible, but the investigation is ongoing,¡± he said. Letting the silence hang over the hall, the king¡¯s eyes swept across the nobles in calculation. ¡°Does anyone else on the council wish to be heard?¡± he asked. Without waiting for a reply, he looked to Mathers and said, ¡°Thank you for your presence Arch-mage. Your wisdom is missed when it is absent. May your path remain wide and clear.¡± As Mathers bowed, and floated down from the podium, his flight stumbled as he heard the king¡¯s voice in his head. The man bypassed Mathers¡¯ essence shield like it wasn¡¯t there, and said, ¡°Well done. And tell Jennings that he can keep the yacht he stole. He¡¯s right that I owe him more than one. And tell him to watch out for the guild of assassins, apparently Lord Cranston met with them earlier this morning. I don¡¯t know who their target is, but I doubt it¡¯s Jennings. Cranston couldn¡¯t afford the price, and they don¡¯t have anyone that would try.¡± Returning to the tower, Mathers had a lot to think about. ----- Nero opened his center, and willed his fancy clothes that he borrowed from Nick to loosen. He felt them accept the command, and await further instructions. Amazed at the quality of the enchanting, he carefully put them away in their garment bag. Nero planned to return them unwashed, because he didn¡¯t know what washing something like them entailed. ¡®Are they magic dry-clean only?¡¯ he wondered. Walking into his bathroom, Nero spent a moment or two debating on why he didn¡¯t care that someone could be spying on him at the moment. While relieving himself, he decided that there was nothing he could do about it, so he didn¡¯t need to care. If someone wanted to watch him shower, when there were so many more attractive people in the world, than he¡¯d just be flattered and forget about it. In no time at all, he was under the hot water of his large shower head. As the heat released the tension in his muscles, Nero¡¯s mind went over the day he had. Thirty hour days were long, he decided. ¡°Since last night, I¡¯ve met nobles, learned how to properly cast magic, saved a princess (or close enough), killed men in combat, and won a war. This world is ridiculous,¡± he muttered to himself. Saying it out loud seemed to make it more real. Turning off the shower, he grabbed his towel and headed into his room. Looking at his desk, he saw all his notes stacked up in neat piles. ¡®Thanks Nick,¡¯ he thought with a smile. The books all recommended meditation for growth, but Nero thought it was unnecessary. He¡¯s never been a ''meditation'' guy. Besides, there weren¡¯t any candles or incense. No vapes, or edibles for that matter. He¡¯d have to level by just laying in bed with his thoughts. Ruffling his hair with his towel, he figured he was dry enough. Nero laid down in bed, and double checked the alarm for tomorrow. Even with everything that has happened, he still could manage 8 hours easy. It was mind-blowing how much could be done in a 30 hour day without TV, the internet, or some other distraction. Looking up at his plain white ceiling, he realized that this was his life now. If you spot this tale on Amazon, know that it has been stolen. Report the violation. Tomorrow, he would use his stars, and solidify his growth. Opening his stat breakdown, he took a look at his progress.
Body 1
Base Operative Level Stress
Presence 9 10.8 6.3
Durability 7 8.4 2
Recovery 13 15.6 14.6
Speed 11 13.2 4
Adaptability 24 28.8 17.2
Power 8 9.6 0.7
Mind 1
Base Operative Level Stress
Weight 20 24 13.2
Control 21 25.2 19.8
Field 8 9.6 31.2
Precision 22 26.4 36.5
Endurance 26 31.2 41.5
Focus 6 7.2 86.6
Soul 1
Base Operative Level Stress
Size 26 31.2 2.1
Density 101 121.2 0.8
Intensity 76 91.2 0.3
Pressure 23 27.6 3.9
Harmony 3 3.6 26.3
Adaptability 270 324 0.8
The last time he looked at it was yesterday. Since then, his level stress was pretty heavily focused on his mind. That made sense, since he mostly just thought a lot. The body stress was probably from being blown up. Nero was clueless about the soul stress. Stars were the key to changing his stats. He¡¯d have to remember to ask Nick about how level stress is calculated. And how much it will affect the base when a star is added. How high should he get his numbers before he adds a star? Should that even be a concern? Banishing the questions, he tried to analyze what caused the numbers to go up. The identity system must have some benefit, other than just tracking progress. Nero thought the secret might be in what caused the stress. He closed the window, and thought about what he went through from when he woke up, until he laid down in his bed. He always kinda knew that he wouldn¡¯t care about killing someone in combat. Whether he was desensitized by video games, movies, or he was just a sociopath, it was no surprise to him. The surprising thing, was how well he handled being around all those important people. He had just focused on not making mistakes. In the future, he¡¯d have to adjust his mindset. Playing a defense only game was a recipe for losing. Nero decided that he would have to sit down with Mrs. Salvatore tomorrow and make some plans. ¡®The room really freaked out when I called her my proxy. It must be some title or something. I think she gave an oath or something,¡¯ he thought with a cringe. That¡¯s something else he¡¯d have to get used to. Nero was going to be a noble, once he got around to taking the pledge. He decided to treat it as a job. He¡¯d put up with nonsense and be surrounded by idiots, but he¡¯d get paid. That Arch-mage he met was interesting. Nero bet that the man was a lot older than he looked. Jennings was crazy powerful, and acted like no one in the room mattered. The man was also overly interested in Nero. ¡®I bet he is one of the people who¡¯s been watching me. Wait! Didn¡¯t that silver chick with the stripper name say that some guy named Jennings gave her books to give to him? Son of a bitch, did he come from the capital?¡¯ Nero pondered the implications. He decided that he would focus on the positives. The guy knew his way around a spell tome. He was willing to teach Nero. In fact, the guy already taught Nero a better way to cast. Reminding himself to reread his books with the new information in mind, Nero put the old man out of his head. He felt his body relax as he laid in bed. With a smile on his face, he tried to remember the feeling he had when he was casting his light spell. ¡®I took my first steps on my path to magic. I imparted my will, and cast a spell. A real spell. I did magic. This is just the beginning. Tomorrow I will learn how to shield myself, and at least ONE true combat spell. From there, I¡¯ll build my mage tower brick by brick. It will be glorious. Someday, I¡¯ll be the guy in the room that doesn¡¯t seem to give a shit,¡¯ he thought to himself, swelling with resolve. He felt the level coming. The essence flowing around him, and through him. The soft chime announcing the level was lost in his humming. Nero felt like he was one with the universe. As the essence quieted, Nero released a breath and sank into his bed. He went to sleep thinking that the day turned out all right. Chapter 41 - How bad is it? Both Nick and Captain Angelton looked at the scrying screen Jennings was projecting. They watched as Nero realized where he was transported, and promptly gave them a double helping of middle fingers. Chuckling, Jennings dismissed his scry. He turned to his compatriots and said, ¡°Let¡¯s head back to the city lord and your wife. I¡¯m sure they¡¯ve made some decisions. I want to make sure that the boy¡¯s growth isn¡¯t impacted by all this noble nonsense.¡± Without waiting for a response, Jennings started back toward the dining hall. Both Nick and Angelton followed. Neither was going to argue with an arch-mage. As they walked down the halls, they discussed the oddity that was Nero. Captain Angelton did his duty and reminded them that they needed to make sure the boy learned how to defend himself. Whether he was protected was irrelevant. There were many dangers that they couldn¡¯t intercept. Jennings walked them past the dining hall where they had eaten dinner, and said, ¡°The dinner guests have moved on to a sitting room.¡± With a chuckle, he turned to Nick. ¡°You should check on your brother, he¡¯s looking a little pale. I think he¡¯s terrified of your wife.¡± Nick responded, ¡°Most sane people are.¡± Jennings pinged the large wooden doors as the trio walked up. After receiving a welcome, he waved them open. ¡°So, what¡¯s been decided?¡± he asked without preamble. The city lord, Lord Cosgrave, was sitting in a large chair resembling a throne, while sipping tea. Her response was equally to the point. ¡°House Walker has been allotted the spoils, and we are now discussing the trials.¡± Sitting in the comfortable ¡®after dinner¡¯ room, was General Branson, Lord Bennings, Lord Salvatore, and Nick¡¯s wife, Vera Salvatore. After walking into the room, the trio took their seats among the couches. Nick relaxed next to Vera, while Captain Angelton joined the general, and immediately reported what happened with Nero. Jennings however, didn¡¯t seem to find a place that was up to his standards. Walking next to the city lord¡¯s chair, he hopped into the air and crossed his legs. He hovered in the air, evidently quite comfortable. His smirk was wide as he said, ¡°That boy is intriguing. He skipped essence weaving and went straight to stamping. I didn¡¯t even show him how to do it. He just saw me cast using my center, and copied me. It was remarkable.¡± Waving his hand, he poured himself some tea with sugar. As the teacup floated over, he asked, ¡°Now where are you with the trials? He is too young for them. Lord Bennings, isn¡¯t there some law or procedure that is applicable?¡± Lord Bennings nodded. ¡°Yes. As I¡¯ve explained to the city lord and house Walker¡¯s proxy, a schedule has to be made, but not enforced. This situation isn¡¯t common enough to have a procedure in place. The closest thing would be a disinherited noble heir. They could found a new house, but without royal protection. They must complete one trial within a year, but it doesn¡¯t matter which one. I have been recommending service. With some help, House Walker should be able to complete that trial with some effort,¡± she said. Lord Cosgrave said, ¡°I¡¯ve offered the city¡¯s assistance, but Mrs. Salvatore said she wanted to speak with Mr. Salvatore first.¡± Nick looked to his wife with a raised eyebrow. ¡°Oh? How can I help?¡± he asked. Vera said, ¡°Well, aren¡¯t you and he working on a paper or two. It¡¯s his identity which is the subject of the data. Wouldn¡¯t that constitute a service to the people? I know that the identity of the subject is usually not published, but it is never a secret. Is that a viable avenue to explore?¡± Jennings was the one to respond. ¡°Technically, service requires the noble to do something. Being a test subject, even if it is immensely helpful, doesn¡¯t qualify as service. Make sure to check with the Tower of Law, but I believe I¡¯m correct. I¡¯d recommend the combat trial and service to be done in unison. Nobles up north do it that way all the time. Have the new Lord Walker go kill something that constitutes a danger to the public. That way he knocks out two trials at once,¡± he said. Lord Bennings offered a nod and said, ¡°The arch-mage is correct. Subjecting oneself to testing doesn¡¯t qualify. However, a beast quest would be acceptable. Isn¡¯t the boy too young for that though? I¡¯ve never heard of someone under level 20 attempting one.¡± The city lord snorted. ¡°That¡¯s because it would be madness. A beast quest can only be issued for dangerous animals or monsters, class 3 or above. The hunting guild has it¡¯s own laws that have to be followed, and cannot be interfered with. It will take years before the boy is ready to fight at that level.¡± The general looked over at Captain Angelton. The captain spoke up, ¡°I doubt it will be that long. Based on his leveling speed, he¡¯ll be level 20 in two weeks.¡± Jennings started laughing. ¡°None of you have figured it out yet? Not even you Mr. Salvatore?¡± he asked with a smirk. The city lord looked around the room, and saw only confused faces. ¡°Please let us know what we¡¯re missing arch-mage,¡± she said without a hint of shame or embarrassment. Seeing that no one was rising to his provocation, the arch-mage sighed. He missed being around people that he could irk. Everyone in this city was so afraid of him, he could insult them to their face and receive nothing but a smile. It was irritating. Jennings said, ¡°Lord Walker is an old soul. His body is trying to catch up to the strength of his soul. His mind is acting as an intermediary. I bet his soul and mind stats are exceptional. As such, he¡¯ll start slowing down drastically around level 10. Some of the mage council believe that he¡¯ll assume a normal leveling speed at that time. A few, myself included, believe that he will still be a fast leveler. Regardless, he won¡¯t continue to gain a level a day. The only thing we agree on is that he¡¯ll stabilize in a few days.¡± Everyone in the room nodded. Some sighed in regret, others in relief. Captain Angelton said, ¡°Even if his leveling speed drops off drastically, he is still a formidable young man. I am looking forward to training him. After a few days, I¡¯ll have a better idea of his potential. At that time, I could make a recommendation as to whether or not he can be made ready for a combat trial within the year.¡± Lord Cosgrave said, ¡°That would work. We haven¡¯t discussed the legacy trial. We could just arrange a marriage. That would satisfy the requirements.¡± Nick burst out laughing. ¡°That¡¯s a wonderful idea. Just please let me be there when you tell him,¡± he said. ----- Nero woke up without issue for the first time in what felt like forever. His link didn¡¯t receive any urgent messages, and his alarm woke him with the jaunty tune he programmed. Wearing his center-robes, he went to get a bagel and a coffee from the cafeteria while on his way to Nicks lab. Waving to the attendant at the front desk on the 5th floor, Nero sipped his coffee and pinged the door the moment he saw it. He tried waving his hand to open the door with his psychic field, but only managed to rattle the doors. Frowning, he continued his approach. As the doors slid into the walls, Nero remembered that they slid rather than opened. Cursing himself for ruining his epic entrance, he saw Jennings, Kendra, and Nick discussing some data on a holographic screen. They were ignoring him, and didn¡¯t seem to have noticed his mistake. ¡®Nice, no one saw¡­ so it didn¡¯t happen. I¡¯m still having a perfect morning,¡¯ he thought with a smile. ¡°Good morning all. I have 3 stars to use, but first I have some questions,¡± he said loudly, interrupting them, as he walked up to the trio. Jennings said, ¡°Welcome Nero. Sleep well?¡± Nick and Kendra were still ignoring Nero and muttering to each other about the data on the screen. Nero replied, ¡°Yup. Slept fine. What¡¯s so interesting?¡± He gestured to the screen that was evidently important. Arch-mage Jennings pointed to the screen, and said, ¡°That¡¯s data that was recovered from the mage tower here in Dorchester. It seems the previous court mage was allowing the mages under his employ to ignore a great deal of things. At Dorchen¡¯s request, some mages had moved the testing nodes for a study the director and his aides were doing. It seemed that they were worried that their mercenaries could be discovered by accident, so they removed all the nodes from the mountain, and placed them in a valley instead. Nick and Kendra are trying to see if anything can be salvaged. It may be that the 3 years of work they¡¯ve done is now worthless.¡± Nero looked at the data, and had no idea what any of it meant. Perhaps he was being contrary, but Nero felt like pointing out the obvious. If the guy from the 5 minute video on the accidental discovery of penicillin was to be believed, screwed up data still produces results. Looking at the data as if he understood it, Nero said, ¡°You''re presuming that the data is useless, because it isn¡¯t what you were looking for. But you should be looking at what the data IS telling you. There is always something to be learned from observation, maybe not what you were looking for, but something.¡± Nick¡¯s eyes narrowed as he looked at the screen. Kendra spoke up, ¡°Oh no, that can¡¯t be right.¡± She manipulated some little knobs as her link lit up on her temple. The display turned into a 3d model of the city and it¡¯s surroundings. Mountains and valleys were beside lakes and rivers. Nero assumed the little dots on the map were the essence testing nodes. The city actually looked small in the map. Nero said, ¡°Holy crap, how big an area did you monitor?¡± Nick responded without turning around, ¡°Just the area within Dorchester¡¯s influence. Kendra, overlay the essence flows with the new locations.¡± With a bit of snark, Kendra replied, ¡°What do you think I¡¯m doing? Hold on.¡± If you stumble upon this tale on Amazon, it''s taken without the author''s consent. Report it. The 3d map gained, what to Nero, looked like a meteorological overlay. It had some numbers scrolling above it. Suddenly, the little lines and clouds started moving in a 20 second loop. Nick said, ¡°Taking this into account, the flow was not as even as we thought. I have no idea what this means, but Nero¡¯s right. It means something.¡± Kendra responded, ¡°You don¡¯t recognize it? Here, look at it without the flow overlay, just look at the density distribution.¡± She manipulated the controls to show little pillars over each dot changing height throughout the 20 second loop. Jennings chimed in, ¡°Can your onsite hub extrapolate a density threshold?¡± Nero was getting bored, and was about to go refill his coffee. As he turned to leave, Nick shouted. ¡°Gods be damned! If that¡¯s accurate, then we can correlate flow data to spawn patterns,¡± he said in excitement. Nero said, ¡°So is something bad happening, or are you just being nerds?¡± Jennings was the one to answer Nero, as Kendra and Nick returned to their scientific babble. ¡°If the data is to be believed, their collection net may be a much more accurate early warning detection system for monster waves and dungeon spawns. In about six months, Dorchester looks to be in some danger. It¡¯s too early to tell from what though,¡± he said. Nero nodded, and gestured for Jennings to follow him to the kitchenette. ¡°That¡¯s super interesting and everything, but I don¡¯t care. Let¡¯s grab a coffee, I said I had questions,¡± he said. Jennings chuckled and followed Nero. As Nero poured some coffees, and the nerds collated data off in the lab, he said, ¡°OK. Two main things. What do stars actually do? And how is ¡®level stress¡¯ related to their use?¡± Sitting down, Nero was focused on Jennings like a dog watching a treat. Sipping his coffee, Jennings leaned back and crossed his legs, enjoying Nero¡¯s undivided attention. He figured, rightly so, that this level of interest was rare for Nero. He started his lecture with a gesture to the nerds, ¡°What they''re looking at is somewhat related. Sentient species use their identity to codify or organize their essence collection. When you grow, you are collecting essence from the surroundings and condensing a star. When enough essence is collected, you level. It¡¯s that simple. ¡°The star is then stored in your soul. You use your mind to direct its use through your identity. Following so far?¡± he asked. Nero nodded, and said, ¡°Yup, you collect experiences and create a star when you level. That part I get, but what do they DO?¡± Jennings took another sip and nodded. ¡°When a person has condensed a star from a level, they are able to apply it to an aspect of their existence. For example, they apply a star to their mind. The star then infuses that collected essence in its abstract form to reinforce the person¡¯s mind stat based upon how much stress that sub-stat has sustained. For example, say that they had been training their control, the control sub-stat would have a lot of built up stress. The star¡¯s essence potential would reinforce the mind to consider that the new normal. Does that explain the relationship well enough?¡± Nero replied, ¡°Yeah, kinda. But how much will the base go up? The book I read had a lot of charts and stuff, but was light on the examples. Let me give you a hypothetical, a level 5 has a 20 ¡®control¡¯ sub-stat in his mind, with a level stress of 10. What would happen if he added a star when he reached level 6?¡± Jennings snorted, ¡°Your hypothetical needs work. A level 5 wouldn''t have a ''control'' that high in the mind stat, at most he would have a 10. Even that would be monstrous, you don¡¯t see 20¡¯s in stats until around level 15. But for the sake of argument, the level stress is based in relation to the base stat. So since the stat is at 20, and the stress is at 10; your hypothetical person would gain a point or two in their base stat. It¡¯s almost impossible to get level stress high enough to increase a stat by more than 3 points.¡± Nero was getting nervous, his stats were really screwed up. And he didn¡¯t know if that was a good thing, or a bad thing. Was he uber-buffed, or was he going to explode if he used a star. He brought up his stat breakdown, and decided to take a chance and ask Jennings a question that was actually relevant.
Body 1
Base Operative Level Stress
Presence 9.1 10.92 6.3
Durability 7 8.4 2
Recovery 13 15.6 14.6
Speed 11 13.2 4
Adaptability 24 28.8 17.2
Power 8 9.6 0.7
Mind 1
Base Operative Level Stress
Weight 20 24 13.2
Control 21 25.2 19.8
Field 8 9.6 31.2
Precision 22 26.4 36.5
Endurance 26 31.2 41.5
Focus 6 7.2 86.6
Soul 1
Base Operative Level Stress
Size 26 31.2 2.1
Density 101 121.2 0.8
Intensity 76 91.2 0.3
Pressure 23 27.6 3.9
Harmony 3 3.6 26.3
Adaptability 270 324 0.8
Nero wouldn¡¯t give up all his secrets, he¡¯ll probably never tell anyone about his soul stats. But maybe his focus stat should be alright he thought. He figured a 6 was pretty normal. ¡°Alright, I¡¯m going to ask a specific question. But this stays between us, agreed?¡± Nero asked with his most serious face. Jennings seemed curious, and said, ¡°Sure. What¡¯s your question?¡± With a sigh, Nero said, ¡°I have a 6 in my focus sub-stat for my mind, but my level stress is at 86.6. If I put a star in my mind, what will happen?¡± Jennings froze. Nero saw his brain crash like an old computer trying to display 4k video. As the seconds stretched, Nero snapped his fingers in front of the man. ¡°Hey!¡± he said. ¡°How fucked am I? And what can I do about it?¡± Jennings came to, and replied in a trembling voice, ¡°Um¡­ Nero. I have no idea what would happen. I can¡¯t conceive of a person having a level stress 14x the base stat. Normally, I¡¯d say that there is never a danger to leveling, but that is based on historical data. Data which, I don¡¯t think applies to you. I¡¯m guessing your focus might double? But whether or not you can handle the influx of essence into your mind is another matter entirely.¡± Nero sagged back into his chair. ¡°Well¡­ shit,¡± he said. Jennings took a sip of his coffee with a worried look on his face. ¡°Shit indeed,¡± he replied. Chapter 42 - Hungry minds can usually be pacified with books Nick and Vera had gotten home later than usual. The dinner with the city lord and the elite of the city was an unexpected and exciting end to their day. The course of their lives was altered, and they needed some time to decompress. Vera sat in a deck chair on the veranda. She looked up into the night sky and debated the choices and moves she had made. Why did she do what she did? Was it really time to enter the game? She had a plan, why didn¡¯t she stick to it? Nick came through the doors with a bottle of wine and two glasses. Seeing Vera in quiet contemplation, he kept silent. After pouring the wine, he sat down and passed her a glass. Vera noticed the offered wine, and gave him a smile as she took it. ¡°Well, the privacy screen is up. We can talk. Say what you have to say,¡± she said with a rueful smile. Nick just leaned back and chuckled while taking a sip of his expensive wine. Vera huffed and said, ¡°We were going to get into the game eventually, this just provided an opportunity.¡± Nick raised an eyebrow and said, ¡°That¡¯s what you''re going with?¡± Vera turned to look at him and said in a serious tone, ¡°It¡¯s the truth.¡± Nick nodded and replied, ¡°Sure. Part of it. I think a lot of it had to do with that little troublemaker. You like him, admit it.¡± Vera looked back to the sky and took a minute to think before she said anything. ¡°I don¡¯t deny it. The young man is interesting. He makes me laugh. I know we talked about children. But we had a plan. We decided to firm our position before you took the trials. With nobility, our children would have many paths open to them,¡± she said. Nick said quietly, ¡°He¡¯s not our son Vera. We¡¯ve known him less than a week. I admit I like him. He is a breath of fresh air. He¡¯s funny, and always provides excitement. But you¡¯ve tied our future house to his now. Why did you accept the position of his proxy? You of all people know what that means.¡± Vera sighed and took a sip of wine. When she didn¡¯t say anything, Nick continued, ¡°As his proxy, you will rise or fall with him. You know I will never leave your side, so I¡¯m now tied to his house as well. In fact, you¡¯ve essentially tied all of House Salvatore to House Walker. My brother is too afraid of you to cut my branch. Just tell me why?¡± Vera kept her eyes on the sky. Nick watched her lips purse and her shoulders tighten. In a tone of steel, she said, ¡°Because of his potential. His drive. When he was in my office, the essence practically sang in his presence when he talked about his goals. He will be great. I¡¯ve been helping people find their paths through the Center for decades. I¡¯ve seen people with goals fail, and people be surprised when options opened. But I¡¯ve never seen someone like Mr. Walker. He knows exactly what he wants and has no shame about doing anything to get it.¡± She turned to face Nick and met his eyes with a smile. ¡°He blackmailed you with me standing right in front of him. There was no fear, no hesitation. He just implied that there was a record of you doing something you shouldn¡¯t have, and that his silence and allegiance were for sale. His price was that you would help him on his path. His position compared to yours was laughable, but he won. He won, Nick,¡± she finished and leaned back in her chair. Nick smiled at the memory. ¡°He is a remarkable young man. I don¡¯t deny it. But the fact remains, he isn¡¯t family. I¡¯m more than happy to help him. I¡¯d even put myself in danger to help him. But you¡¯ve tied us together, and that isn¡¯t like you,¡± he said with concern. Vera sighed and said, ¡°During one of our meetings, he asked if we were friends. I told him that it¡¯s possible we could be in a few years. He said to me, ¡®Even if I¡¯m not your friend, I consider you mine¡¯. He trusts me. He believes in my character. He has offered me his trust. I don¡¯t think of him as our child, I think of him as my friend.¡± Nick smiled. That was what he wanted her to admit. She needed to hear herself say it. He said, ¡°I think of him as my friend too.¡± Vera raised her glass with a smirk and said, ¡°To House Walker, may their path be wide and clear.¡± Tapping his glass to hers, Nick responded, ¡°And may House Walker¡¯s enemies feel the chill of their impending defeat.¡± ----- Nero stood on the testing platform with shaky legs. He saw Nick and Kendra working the controls on the essence forge, as Jennings watched the proceedings with a frown. Trying to take deep breaths to calm his nerves, Nero couldn¡¯t stop his eyes from darting around the room. He knew he didn¡¯t have a choice. He needed to use his stars. It should be fine. No one in recorded history had ever had a bad result from using a star. Their function was well studied, and their only danger was when they WEREN¡¯T used. Repeating those facts in his head, Nero wrung his hands. Jennings didn¡¯t like what he was feeling. But, this was just the kind of excitement that he came to Dorchester to find. This situation reminded him that the unexpected doesn¡¯t always lead to something fun. He had silenced his connection with the mage council, their blathering in his head was breaking his concentration. However, he could still feel them watching through their scry-link. As he looked at Nero with concern, he hoped for the best. Nick and Kendra were focused on the forge. This time, Nick was stressing the importance of full spectrum recording. When Nick recorded Nero¡¯s earlier star usage, he was just doing a standard scan. Now he was planning on an in-depth analysis. His palms were sweating in anticipation. With a nod to Kendra, Nick activated the forge. The essence collection and monitoring nodes lit up. He spoke over his shoulder, ¡°Nero, we¡¯re ready. Just push a star into your mind stat. It will be just like last time. Whenever you¡¯re ready.¡± Nero opened his identity.
Name Nero Walker Level 7
Race Human Growth 0%
Tier 1 Condition 100%
Age 14 Center 96%
Body 1 Mind 1
Soul 1 Confluence 10
Stars 3 Pillars 0/0
As the lights from the forge floated around him like a swirling kaleidoscope, he focused on his mind stat. He felt the potential. The feeling was much more than an empty bowl, it was a waiting chasm. With the lightest touch, he pushed in a star. Jennings senses were entirely focused on Nero. While Nick and Kendra were looking at the data, he knew that the data could be reviewed later. Suddenly, his psychic field picked up a growing essence storm. Nero had closed his eyes, so he could fully focus on what he was doing. As usual, he didn¡¯t notice how his inner battle affected the outside world. His mind stat was sucking the essence from his star reservoir. He could feel his soul emptying, and his mind blooming like a flower in the morning sun. Unconsciously, he raised his arms in acceptance, and his feet left the floor. He was hovering an inch or two off the ground, held in the air by the surrounding essence. The story has been stolen; if detected on Amazon, report the violation. Jennings jaw dropped open as he saw the ambient essence aid a star infusion. He didn¡¯t know that was possible. The entire storm lasted less than 5 seconds. It looked like the essence just picked Nero up and gave him a quick hug. It was like an incredibly tiny tier transition. He remembered the essence storm that accompanied the one he had seen many years ago. The entire city of Hennings was affected. That gave him an idea as to what made Nero so unique. Nero felt his stored stars empty like they were sucked out of him through a straw. He felt as though the choice wasn¡¯t his. He collapsed to his knees and huffed in air. The aftermath was an entirely unfamiliar pain. It was like having the air knocked out, but deeper. The feeling quickly faded, but Nero was panting and rubbing his chest at the memory. The lights from the essence forge were still flying around, and Nero heard Nick say, ¡°Wow Nero, I¡¯m not understanding what I¡¯m seeing. But we can review the data later. While your center is still in flux, let¡¯s move on to your next star. You decided on Confluence, right?¡± Nero checked his full breakdown, then realized he didn¡¯t understand what he was seeing.
Name Nero Walker Level 7
Race Human Growth 0%
Tier 1 Condition 100%
Age 14 Center 100%
Body 1 Mind 4
Soul 1 Confluence 10
Stars 0 Pillars 0/0
Body 1
Base Operative Level Stress
Presence 9 10.8 6.3
Durability 7 8.4 2
Recovery 13 15.6 14.6
Speed 11 13.2 4
Adaptability 24 28.8 17.2
Power 8 9.6 0.7
Mind 4
Base Operative Level Stress
Weight 26 46.8 0
Control 29 52.2 0
Field 23 41.4 0
Precision 39 70.2 0
Endurance 46 82.8 0
Focus 48 86.4 0
Soul 1
Base Operative Level Stress
Size 26 31.2 2.1
Density 101 121.2 0.8
Intensity 76 91.2 0.3
Pressure 23 27.6 3.9
Harmony 3 3.6 26.3
Adaptability 270 324 0.8
Nero sat back from his knees, and sprawled his legs out while leaning back on his palms. Ignoring the lights, he muttered, ¡°I don¡¯t understand any of this shit. What the hell is going on?¡± Jennings was watching closely, and he could see that Nero¡¯s psychic field had substantially grown in strength. The air around the podium was humming. He was going to have to teach the boy some control, and soon. ¡°Nick, turn off the forge. I think you¡¯ve gotten all the data your going to get today,¡± said Jennings. Nick looked over his shoulder, and saw Nero sitting down on the podium with a confused and angry expression. Raising his eyebrows, he turned to Kendra. ¡°Let¡¯s shut everything down. I want you to personally create a private file, and use my office to organize the data. Wait for me there, I¡¯ll be with you as soon as I can. Don¡¯t tell anyone about this. Do you understand me?¡± he asked in a serious tone. Kendra just nodded with a stunned expression. She whispered, ¡°I have no idea what I¡¯d say. What did we just record? The essence distribution makes no sense, and the amount is unprecedented. No one should be able to incorporate that much raw essence, let alone have the environment add more to the infusion.¡± Nick nodded, and replied, ¡°Look, I don¡¯t have any answers. I didn¡¯t expect this. And until we know more, we¡¯re going to treat this as protected data.¡± Locking his eyes on her, he continued, ¡°Kendra, It¡¯s his path. The path of a noble, we can not let this data out.¡± Kendra seemed to regain some of her composure. ¡°I understand. I know I¡¯m not entitled to any answers, but I¡¯d like them. I¡¯ll be in your office organizing this mess into something readable. Please ask Nero if I can be of any use. I would very much like to be part of this study,¡± she said with her hunger for knowledge on full display. Nick nodded and offered her a strained smile. ¡°Thank you,¡± he said. As Kendra and Nick were turning off the essence forge, Jennings stepped onto the testing podium. ¡°Nero, are you all right? How are you feeling?¡± he asked in a quiet, cautious tone. Nero looked up at him with a dull stare. ¡°When I started to use a star, my mind just swallowed everything. It felt like my consciousness was opening like an umbrella, while my soul was emptied like a balloon,¡± he said in a flat voice, devoid of emotion. Jennings watched as Nero pulled his feet in and stood up slowly. Rising to his full height, Nero looked different. Jennings¡¯ scrutiny isolated the differences. Nero¡¯s eyes had changed. His posture was different. The boy was gone. A serious little man stood where the boy used to be. Jennings nodded to himself, as his theory seemed more and more likely. Nero looked at Jennings and said, ¡°I need to speak with you and Nick. You two ¡®brilliant¡¯ men are going to explain exactly what is going on with me. Right now.¡± Kendra hurried for the door, and Nick walked up to the podium. Jennings sighed and said, ¡°All right Nero, I have a theory.¡± Chapter 43 - Where babies come from, the Nero edition Master Derek Cosgrave was doing his best to appear calm and collected. He walked through the streets of Dorchester, politely nodding to the bowing commoners. It wouldn¡¯t do to show his feelings to his subjects. He was an heir of Cosgrave, and he would act like it. Yet, his mother¡¯s words haunted him. He had barely slept the night before. After watching her dinner with that Nero Walker, he couldn¡¯t forget her warnings. He had skipped breakfast, and was in the training hall trying to work through his feelings, when he received the message that prompted his current trip. He had received a ping from a Great Noble house that demanded his immediate attention. It was a request from House Cranston for a long distance scry-meeting. His personal aid said that the request was sent in secret, and it specifically asked him not to mention it to anyone. Normally he would have asked his mother or sister their opinion regardless of the request for secrecy, but House Cranston had said the subject of the meeting would be Nero Walker. For Derek, there was only one explanation; they were watching the events happening in the keep. Their intelligence was too good. A Great House could wield a great deal of power, and if they were following the events in Dorchester, than they would know if he spoke to anyone. He was well aware that he was no great player, but he knew the game well enough. Eventually, he made his way to a scrying hall in the Tower of Mages. He chose to use a public meeting hall, rather than the one in the keep, in order to hide the scry-meeting. Entering the code into the console, he sent the connection request, and took a step back. He forced a dignified expression onto his face, and crossed his hands behind his back. The hologram appeared around him, and he was facing two men. Derek thought the man on the right was a servant, as he was wearing house robes, and his chin was facing the floor. But the man on the left was clearly a noble. His robes were impeccable, and seemed to glow with an inner light. The man was tall, and his bearing spoke of refinement. His gray hair was cut short and parted neatly. Cold gray eyes regarded Derek with intelligence and intrigue. ¡°You must be Master Derek Cosgrave. Your image was accurate in our files. I am Lord Nilan Cranston. Thank you for your prompt response, as we don¡¯t have a lot of time,¡± said the man with a soft but firm voice. Derek gulped, and tried to keep his voice from shaking, ¡°Lord Cranston, the pleasure is mine. What can House Cosgrave do for you?¡± Lord Cranston¡¯s face could have been carved from marble. It offered no hint to his mood, as he said, ¡°I do not require anything from House Cosgrave. I have contacted you to offer an opportunity. The opportunity will aid your house, but it is really an opportunity for you. I¡¯m aware of a great deal of what has happened in Dorchester, and I know about your problem. I only offer a solution.¡± Derek tried to read between the lines. This wasn¡¯t his area of expertise. He was a plain spoken man. A warrior. This double-speak was his sister¡¯s thing. His mother would already have a counter-opportunity to offer the man. Squinting his eyes in confusion, he couldn¡¯t understand what Lord Cranston was trying to say. ¡°Lord Cranston, to what problem are you referring? House Cosgrave has just won a noble war, and all is well. Is there something I should be made aware of?¡± asked Derek with concern. Lord Cranston¡¯s aide coughed lightly, trying to hide his laugh. And for the first time, Lord Cranston¡¯s stoic face showed some movement. With one tiny corner of his mouth showing a hint of a smirk, he said, ¡°Nero Walker. I¡¯m referring to the new noble.¡± Even more confused, Derek said, ¡°How is he a threat to House Cosgrave?¡± Lord Cranston realized that Derek was an idiot, and it was time to be more direct. ¡°Walker isn¡¯t a threat to your house, but to you. Didn¡¯t you listen to your mother? I¡¯m offering you an opportunity to cut him down before he grows into a threat. I have a plan in place, but it requires someone from the city lord¡¯s house to implement. Your mother is too cautious and your sister is incapable of action without her mother¡¯s approval. You are the one who is threatened, and you are the one in position to do something about it. Is that clear enough for you?¡± asked Lord Cranston. ¡°Um.. Yes. Thank you. May I have a moment to think?¡± he asked. Lord Cranston snorted and replied, ¡°Take your time boy, it¡¯s not like I have more important things I could be doing.¡± Stunned, Derek tried to think it through. Well, the man obviously had a reason to want Nero Walker dead. Asking him what that reason was would be pointless. Yet, Lord Cranston seemed to agree with his mother about the danger the new lord posed. Was that commoner turned noble really that much of a danger to him? Deciding that he should err on the side of caution, Derek looked up to see Lord Cranston impatiently waiting for a response. Clearing his throat, Derek stood at attention and said, ¡°On behalf of House Cosgrave, I thank you for your help in this matter. What would you have me do?¡± With a cold smile Lord Cranston replied, ¡°Follow the plan, and the boy will be dead by tonight.¡± ----- Sitting at a table near the kitchenette, they were still in the lab. Nero was cupping his glass of water with both hands as he looked across the table to Jennings and Nick. With a serious, but calm voice, Nero said, ¡°All right. What¡¯s the theory? What¡¯s with my stats and levels acting all weird?¡± Nick spoke first, ¡°Before that, I¡¯d like to hear what you experienced. Your sensations and observations are essential to understanding what¡¯s happening.¡± Nero took a deep breath, then replied, ¡°Everything started off normal. But when I started to use a star, my mind stat felt like an empty vessel demanding to be filled. The stat sucked in all three stars, and then seemed to pull in even more from the essence floating around me. And, I could also feel the chamber in my soul, the one where stars are stored, it felt like it was being squeezed. My entire soul felt like it was shrinking, while my head felt like it was expanding. I might have to trust you guys with some hard numbers; because without them, I don¡¯t think you¡¯ll understand.¡± Jennings was keenly aware of the mage council watching through a scry. He didn¡¯t want to turn off their entertainment, but he also didn¡¯t want Nero to share his personal identity numbers. It would feel like a betrayal of Nero¡¯s budding trust in him. He decided to steer the conversation toward a more general direction. The council would get something to talk about, and Nero wouldn¡¯t have to get into specifics. ¡°Nero, let me tell you what I think is going on,¡± Jennings said, while holding up his hands to stop Nero from speaking. ¡°I think this all goes back to how you came into this world. I think it was a mistake to think that your mind suffered any amnesia from your journey through the upper planes. I think you remember everything. Isn¡¯t that right?¡± Jennings asked. Nick and Jennings both watched as Nero paled. He seemed to hide his agitation better than before, but it was still obvious. Staring at Jennings, Nero seemed to come to a decision. His shoulder¡¯s slumped and he took a big drink of his water. ¡°I remember everything. As Nick would say, I came into this world with a fully developed mind. I¡¯ve already figured out that my previous experiences and personality have been speeding up my leveling. But I don¡¯t see the connection to the stats in my identity, or why my leveling isn¡¯t slowing down. I was hoping you two had some ideas,¡± he said with a wry smile. Nick was vibrating in his chair, ¡°You remember everything? Where did you come from? What was your past life like? Do you remember the journey through the planes? What did you see?¡± Jennings didn¡¯t seem surprised. He just nodded as if his theory was confirmed. He looked to Nick and said, ¡°There will be time for that later, buy him a drink or something. The planes of reincarnation are not unknown to the mage tower. I¡¯ll send you some books to read. It¡¯s one of my hobbies to explore the upper dimensions. Right now, Nero needs some answers.¡± Nick nodded, and forced himself to calm down. ¡°Quite right. So what does this mean in a more practical sense?¡± he asked. Support the creativity of authors by visiting Royal Road for this novel and more. Jennings didn''t answer, he just pointed to Nero. Nick looked over to see Nero frozen in stunned shock. Nick and Jennings shared a look, and decided to give Nero some time. Nero was flabbergasted, and he couldn¡¯t stop his mind from racing through the worst-case scenarios he had imagined. Many times, he had played out the reveal of his previous life, and it never went like this. Instead of the shock and accusations he expected, he received curiosity. Not even overwhelming curiosity. It was like they found out that he used to be in the merchant marines, and now they just wondered what that was like. They sat in silence while Nero stared off into space, trying to come to terms with what he had just heard. It took almost 5 minutes before Jennings saw that Nero was paying attention again, and then he proposed his theory. ¡°Here¡¯s what I think happened. You lived a life somewhere else, and when you died your soul was released into the upper planes. Something happened that pulled you out of the cycle of reincarnation. You don¡¯t have to tell us anything, it¡¯s not our business. But whatever happened, you ended up crossing over to our outer realms. Rather than being purified of the remnant mind that was ingrained on your soul, you carried it with you through reincarnation. As your soul wasn¡¯t clean, it couldn¡¯t latch on to a new body upon reaching the upper planes. ¡°You see, a baby requires a fresh soul, one it can grow with. However, your soul couldn¡¯t find a suitable vessel, so it just floated around the upper planes. I doubt you could even sense time there, so you could have been floating for a very long time. Eventually, circumstances aligned by chance. A body that was near death released a soul. I¡¯m guessing it was a very weak soul, and it couldn¡¯t hold onto its material body. But the body was capable of holding a strong soul, and your soul was pulled like a kite on a string. The recently ¡®dead¡¯ body acted like a magnet and drew your soul through the planar walls. ¡°When a soul is pulled into a body, it is usually small enough to slip through the planes without issue. But your soul was so large that it ripped a path open. That tear was what I observed from my tower in Hennings. When the body received the new, more powerful soul, it was reinvigorated. Your ¡®birth¡¯ used the essence the soul brought with it to heal the body and you were born anew. As your soul already had an identity, it immediately created a mind and now here you are. Sound right so far?¡± Nero was amazed. He¡¯d met smart people, but Jennings was like Sherlock Holmes had a baby with Stephen Hawking while using Gandalf as a surrogate. All Nero could do was nod and mutter, ¡°I remember looking for a world of magic and wonder. I saw a gate that called to me. I threw myself toward the light. I just remember burning, then waking up at the merchant caravan.¡± Jennings leaned forward. Slapping his hand on the table in excitement, he said, ¡°That¡¯s the missing piece. I assumed your mind was already attuned to the magic of a different realm. We would have had to study the differences. But you¡¯re implying that your previous world didn¡¯t have magic at all. When you say ¡®wonder¡¯, I hear adventure and excitement. You CHOSE this world with that in mind. Don¡¯t you see?!?¡± He was waving his arms around frantically with a wide smile. Nick and Nero were both surprised and confused at Jennings¡¯ outburst. Nero said, ¡°I see you freaking the fuck out. I¡¯m assuming that we¡¯re missing something significant.¡± Jennings nodded and said, ¡°The choice Nero. You were an insubstantial soul. Souls are essence infused with an identity, or in other words, realized potential.¡± Nick started nodding as he interrupted with an excited shout, ¡°Oh! I see! His memories were there, but his soul was the motive force. It¡¯s still shaping the container. He came to this world with the promise of magic and adventure in his very soul. His unconscious formed before his conscious mind took control. Using the framework of his memories, a mind was created. That explains his obsession with magic. His utter disregard for doing anything productive.¡± Nero was feeling his pride rise and fall along with Nicks words. He grimaced and said, ¡°Hey, I¡¯m not being influenced by anything. In a world of magic and dragons, I¡¯m not going to focus on boring crap.¡± Jennings chuckled. ¡°Nick¡¯s not saying you don¡¯t have a choice or anything. He is simply pointing out that your body, mind, and soul are being influenced by your inner desires. That typically starts to occur at higher tiers. What you¡¯re experiencing is a VERY weak case of ¡®unity¡¯.¡± Nick¡¯s eyes lit up with wonder. ¡°That¡¯s possible?¡± he asked. Jennings nodded proudly. ¡°That¡¯s my theory. It explains his absurd casting ability, level breaking psychic field, and ridiculous leveling speed. His entire existence is quite literally built for the pursuit of magic and adventure. The first tier is about finding your purpose. Nero here, came into this world knowing what he wanted. It¡¯s been less than a week, and he has grown toward that goal like it was the only light in the room. ¡®Unity¡¯ can be achieved during tier 2 by embodying a goal or an ideal. It¡¯s usually based on a person¡¯s pillars, but during Nero¡¯s testing, I saw the world recognize his purpose while he was on the podium.¡± Nero nodded. He thought it made sense in a way. He was only a soul that created a mind and hijacked a body. As his stats showed, his identity was all over the place. With a curious look, he asked, ¡°OK. So now what? What do I do with that information?¡± Jennings thought for a moment, and said, ¡°Well, you live your life. Your mind had grown too fast, and required more essence to form. From now on, make sure to keep your confluence higher than your other stats, and you shouldn¡¯t have a problem. You¡¯ll balance out as you level. Just keep in mind that you won¡¯t be able to compare yourself to anyone. Your situation is so unique, that your level is relatively meaningless. I¡¯m guessing that some of your stats are probably the same as someone who is around level 50. You just don¡¯t know anything yet. And your soul is probably very old, and very strong. Good news is that you¡¯re probably able to ignore most illusion magic. Your sense of self and connection to the world around you is too strong.¡± Nick nodded and added, ¡°You should just follow the plan you had before. Learn what you want, and live your life. Your stars should be in balance now. Don¡¯t let your level stress rise too high, and you shouldn¡¯t have any problems.¡± Nero said, ¡°I think my book showed level stresses really low though. Like under 20.¡± Jennings spoke up, ¡°20 would usually be considered a monstrous level stress. Typically you shouldn¡¯t get higher than a 6. Yet, there are always outliers. You should be safe as long as you stay under 50, maybe 60 at the highest. Also remember, you¡¯re still adapting to this realm. It will take time and levels for your body, mind, and soul to reach equilibrium. I¡¯d be surprised if you still had problems after level 10. Just focus on your training. Now that you¡¯re going to be a noble, you¡¯ll have plenty of options.¡± Nero stared at Jennings and said, ¡°That''s the most useless explanation I¡¯ve ever heard. I¡¯m just as confused as I was before you started talking. And what options are available, now that I¡¯m a noble? Can I go to magic school?¡± Ignoring Nero¡¯s question, Nick chimed in, ¡°Speaking of your upcoming nobility, Vera has some things to speak with you about. She wanted to have lunch with you. Thank you for honoring her by appointing her as your proxy. She won¡¯t admit it, but she loves getting into it with nobles.¡± Jennings chuckled. ¡°That woman is really fun to watch. She is a superb player. I wasn¡¯t surprised to see that she was raised in a noble house. I¡¯ve met her mother, another formidable player. Nero made a wise decision choosing her as his proxy,¡± he said. Nick stood up from the table, and said, ¡°You¡¯ve got a few hours before lunch, so just stay here and read. I have to go calm down Kendra. What would you like me to tell her?¡± Nick watched, as Nero rubbed his chin in consideration, seemingly lost as to how he should handle more people knowing about his past. Nick tried to help by adding, ¡°All of your data is useless by the way, so you don¡¯t have to worry about it being published. However, I would recommend keeping your history quiet. Much like your uniqueness it would be a bother to continually answer questions. Maybe you could write a book on your past life or something. Or just keep it secret. Your choice.¡± Nero fidgeted in his chair. He wasn¡¯t very proud of his past life selling cell phones and trolling people on the internet with provocative memes. ¡°Well, if you trust her, you can tell her everything. Just let her know not to spread it around. And my data isn¡¯t useless. It¡¯s like the data that was screwed up by Dorken or whatever his name was. The data just shows something different. What you learn from it is up to you,¡± said Nero. Nick smiled and replied, ¡°Right. I¡¯ll review everything I have. I¡¯m sure there is something to learn from what we observed.¡± Turning to Jennings he said, ¡°Feel free to stay here with Nero, or do whatever you want. Is there anything you need from me?¡± Jennings understood Nick¡¯s gesture of respect, and replied, ¡°No thank you. You¡¯ve been very accommodating. Go about your day. I¡¯ll stay with Nero for a bit. With Nero¡¯s permission, I¡¯d like to look at the data you collected.¡± He turned to Nero, to see his reply. Nero shrugged, ¡°Sure, you seem like a stand-up guy. Just show me how to do that shield thing you do, and 3 combat spells. Then we¡¯ll call it even.¡± Nick started laughing. He turned to Jennings, ¡°Never ask Nero for anything without being prepared to pay for it.¡± Nero added, ¡°By the way Nick, nowhere in our agreement did it state that your end of the deal was canceled if my data turned out to be worthless. Just because your assistant, David, never finished the contract, doesn¡¯t mean that we don¡¯t have a verbal agreement. I¡¯m a noble now. That¡¯s a promotion that comes with lawyers.¡± He leaned back into his chair with a satisfied smile, and crossed his arms in victory. Nick¡¯s jaw dropped. Then he started laughing again. ¡°Of course Lord Walker. I¡¯ll abide by our agreement, but I¡¯m sure we¡¯ll have to amend it over lunch with Vera. As your proxy, she¡¯ll have an opinion on how you should be spending your time,¡± he finished with a smile of victory all his own. Nero¡¯s smile dropped. ¡°She will. Won¡¯t she,¡± he muttered. With a bow to Jennings, Nick left the lab. He was enjoying his moment of victory, until he heard Nero¡¯s parting shot. ¡°I¡¯m sure she¡¯ll have a comprehensive lesson plan that you¡¯ll have to follow along with me. In addition, I think you¡¯ll be taking the trials with me, Lord Salvatore,¡± Nero shouted to Nick¡¯s back. Chapter 44 - When you cant teach, do. The Dorchester Hall of the Huntsmen was busier than usual. Every hunter and seeker in the area was taking advantage of the aftermath of the Noble War. Although technically, the source of the excitement was the fields of dead bodies left in the wake of the Populators'' purge. Yesterday, they had taken on an entire army of mercenaries and those who weren¡¯t massacred were scattered into the surrounding wilds. Ulric Linderman was looking at the postings as his fellow huntsmen were gently jostling each other for a peek at the request board. He thought that this would be a perfect opportunity to take his apprentices out into the field. He could have them collect gear, and get some experience, while minimizing the risks. As he was taking notes on the particulars of a gear collection quest, he received a ping from the last person he wanted to hear from. With a sigh, he pushed his way toward the exit. The wide doors were packed with people from all over Dorchester, and it had taken him over an hour just to get to see the request board. The crowd made way for his 6¡¯8¡¯¡¯ frame, and he strode through the weak southerners like a knife through butter. Ulric¡¯s face was set in a rictus of anger, which definitely contributed to people getting out of his way. After crossing the street, Ulric made it back to his rooms at the lodge. He noted that his apprentices stood up to greet him. With a wave of his hand, they immediately sat back down. They could tell he wasn¡¯t in the mood. Stomping past them and into his private room, he locked the door, then enabled the privacy screen. As he felt the ward go up, he activated his link. ¡°What do you want? I told you I¡¯m unavailable for the next few years,¡± said Ulric. Ulric could feel the amusement over the link. ¡°You know the deal, orders are orders and all that,¡± said Chance. They hadn¡¯t spoken in over two years. Not since Ulric requested leave from active status in the Assassins Guild in order to train his new apprentices. Chance should have known that it would be years before they were ready to be inducted. Taking their history into account, Ulric knew that this ping would be nothing but trouble. ¡°Just say what you need to say. I¡¯m busy,¡± said Ulric. ¡°A request was made in Hennings for a target in Dorchester, and you¡¯re still listed as a local contact. Considering the details of the request, you¡¯ll understand why you were chosen,¡± said Chance. Intrigued, Ulric said, ¡°Send over the details.¡± Receiving the file, Ulric wasted no time and went through it. Ulric couldn¡¯t believe that the guild accepted this madness. Who in their right mind would be so stupid as to target a new noble? They are relying on a loophole. Technically it was a valid argument...probably. In any case, Ulric still thought the client was insane. Returning his attention to Chance, Ulric said, ¡°They are really offering a quarter of a million common valens for this? They have to know what the repercussions will be.¡± Chance¡¯s good cheer was obvious over the link. ¡°Who cares? The very nature of the contract negates a ¡®silence¡¯ clause. What happens after the target is dead has nothing to do with us. As long as we follow the letter of the law and abide by the assassination accords, the guild will be safe. The question is, do you have someone that can do it? The requirements rule out almost all of our assets. You¡¯re the only one in the area who has access to a piece that can play.¡± Ulric took a minute to think. The target was an easy first kill for an apprentice. However, even in the best case scenario, he¡¯d need new identities and a new city. ¡°No. The money is good, the target is good, but the aftermath is an unacceptable cost. I¡¯d need to buy passage to another city, and an identity sweep for two apprentices and myself. The need to start over makes this cost too much,¡± said Ulric. ¡°Don¡¯t worry about any of that. Full identity sweeps and travel in a protected convoy will be provided upon successful completion of the assignment. That¡¯s in ADDITION to the quarter million valens. This needs to happen today. The window is closing,¡± replied Chance. Ulric was surprised. How much was the guild getting paid for this? Shaking his head, he banished that line of thought. He didn¡¯t need, or want, to know. Rubbing his chin, Ulric tried to think it through. It was a lot of money, and a solid plan. Chance interrupted Ulric¡¯s pondering by upping the payout. ¡°Fine, we¡¯ll go up to 300,000. No more. And it has to be today,¡± he said. Ulric straightened to his full height. His hesitation was gone. The deal was too good to pass up. ¡°Alright. Consider the contract accepted. You¡¯ll be hearing the good news in a few hours,¡± said Ulric. Cutting the connection, Ulric dropped the privacy screen. Taking a breath, he read the file again to make sure he didn¡¯t miss anything. Nodding to himself, he walked back into the common room. His apprentices looked up as he walked in. Caleb was oiling his sword, and Rose was tightening her arrow heads. Seeing Ulric stop and cross his arms, they put down their gear and stood up at attention. Both looked ready, they obviously knew something was up. ¡®Well, they were expecting a couple nights in the woods, not a contract,¡¯ he thought. Ulric¡¯s took some time to evaluate them. The contract could only go to one of them. They were both around 18, both level 8, both had been with him for years. Both were dedicated to the path of the hunter. It would be their differences that would determine his choice. If you discover this tale on Amazon, be aware that it has been stolen. Please report the violation. Caleb returned Ulric¡¯s gaze with a smirk. His wiry, 5¡¯6¡¯¡¯ frame made him an ideal assassin candidate. His black hair and tan complexion blended well with his black leather combat harness. As he preferred to fight with blades, he would be well suited for an arena match. Rose was 5¡¯7¡¯¡¯ and thicker. She was fit, and wore her brown leathers and cloak like she was meant to be in the wild. Her light brown hair was cut short, and her blue eyes sparkled in expectation. Although she could win in the arena, she preferred to kill from a distance. Having made a decision, Ulric smiled and said, ¡°Well, it looks like we have a job. Caleb, how do you feel about killing a new noble in a completely legal arena challenge?¡± Rose looked to Caleb in surprise. Caleb¡¯s smile took on a dangerous glint as he replied, ¡°Legal? That means people will get to see how good I am, you think they¡¯ll broadcast it under the arena banner?¡± ----- Arch-Mage Jennings chuckled as he went to get a cup of coffee, he really enjoyed the banter between Nick and Nero. His trip to Dorchester was turning out to be quite amusing. Nero saw what Jennings was doing and said, ¡°Hey, can you grab me a cup while you¡¯re up. Just black is fine.¡± Smiling, Jennings poured Nero a cup of coffee. He was also enjoying the way Nero treated him. He hadn¡¯t been treated as an equal in a long time. Even Arch-Mage Mathers held a certain respect for him, though they argued plenty. Nero though, he just respected him as a mage. There was no awe. Jennings hoped that wouldn¡¯t change when Nero found out more about him. ¡°Here you go,¡± he said. Handing Nero the coffee, Jennings returned to his seat. Watching Nero take a sip, he said, ¡°So you want to know how to cast an essence shield. Why? You won¡¯t need one for years.¡± Nero gave Jennings a look like he was an idiot. ¡°I¡¯ve been here like 7 days and already was in a fight. A magic fight. I was lucky that I didn¡¯t get myself killed. I¡¯m not going to be one of those morons who doesn¡¯t accept the world around him. I¡¯m in danger, so I need to learn how to fight,¡± he said with conviction. Jennings raised his eyebrows at Nero¡¯s resolve. ¡°As a new noble, you¡¯re under the protection of the royals for the next 100 years. You¡¯re not in danger.¡± Nero just shook his head. ¡°Let¡¯s agree to disagree. Now, tell me how to cast a shield. Then we¡¯ll move onto some combat spells.¡± Chuckling Jennings said, ¡°Fine, but I doubt it will help you. Follow me, we¡¯ll need some space.¡± Standing up, Jennings didn¡¯t forget his coffee. He led Nero to a corner of the lab with some training dummies and isolated areas for spell testing. Turning to Nero, he narrowed his eyes as he saw that Nero had taken his cup of coffee as well. Deciding not to make an issue of Nero¡¯s disregard for decorum, he said, ¡°An essence shield is not a spell. It is using your psychic field to collect and cycle the ambient essence into a film to cover yourself. Everyone does it naturally as their psyche grows. However, mages have perfected it. While warriors rely on their essence infused bodies, and their essence fields; we mages solidify our fields into a shield. A well done essence shield is like a coat of armor. You can anchor spells to it, use it to fly, make teleportations instantaneous, and much more. It is a very advanced technique that requires years of practice. Condensing your psychic field is a matter of will and focus. Nero, are you listening?¡± Nero was already playing with the ambient essence. Rather than looking Jennings in the eye, he was using his psychic field to examine the thin field of essence that always surrounded Jennings. With his increased stats, he got a much clearer picture of what it actually was. While Jennings was talking, Nero sipped his coffee by reflex as his mind worked on copying the arch-mage. Realizing that Jennings had stopped talking, Nero looked up and said, ¡°Yup. Mage-armor. Got it. Here, hold this a second.¡± Nero handed his coffee cup to the stunned arch-mage. Jennings was so surprised at Nero¡¯s behavior that he took the cup by reflex. As Nero stepped back, Jennings was about to start up one of his legendary rants. He could feel the amusement of the mage council in his head, and it was infuriating. Before Jennings could say anything, he felt the essence around Nero begin to swirl. Snapping his mouth closed, he focused on what was happening. Nero had his eyes closed, and was using his psychic field to grab all the essence within a few feet. Rather than pick a flow or type, he just mentally clasped a big fist. Around his body was already an area that interacted with essence, he assumed that was the beginnings of his essence field. Collapsing his mental fist, he held the essence in a clinch over the field. The two fields didn¡¯t seem to want to interact. They were fighting each other. With a frown, he opened his eyes and released his hold. Taking two steps forward, he walked right up to Jennings. The man just cocked his head with a smile. ¡°It¡¯s not so simple. It¡¯s amazing that you could even condense a field, you should be proud,¡± he said. Nero gave him a deadpan look, and replied, ¡°Just give me a sec.¡± Nero turned the entirety of his psychic field to the study of Jennings'' shield. It was flowing over him at insane speeds. It was like looking at an essence waterfall, one that was flowing over the field Jennings body emitted. Though it looked like a film, it actually extended a couple inches off his body, it just stayed near him. Nero poked it with a psychic finger. Jennings jumped a little, and said in annoyed tone, ¡°What are you doing?¡± Nero nodded to himself. He looked up at Jennings and said in a matter-of-fact tone, ¡°Your explanation sucks. It¡¯s not a film at all. You¡¯re creating an area of ¡®your¡¯ essence. You''re taking ownership of the area around your body. It gets weaker the farther away from your skin it is. It¡¯s not a film, and calling it one is just wrong. Now be quiet for a second.¡± Jennings couldn¡¯t remember the last time someone had so ¡®thoroughly¡¯ told him that he was ¡®wrong¡¯. He¡¯d been corrected, his conclusions questioned, his thought process challenged. But he was stupefied to the point of silence by being told so directly that he was ¡®wrong¡¯. Nero stepped back to give himself some space. Once again, he reached out with his psychic field. Nero could sense the entire area was blanketed by Jennings consciousness, but it wasn¡¯t actually under his control. The arch-mage was just lightly laying his presence over everything and using it to monitor his surroundings. Nero briefly considered how much Jennings was currently paying attention to, but he quickly banished the useless thought. Nero reached out much further this time, and collected all the essence he could comfortably grab without straining his mind. Rather than squeezing, he just encircled the essence with his field and pushed it toward his body. As the essence around him compressed, he could see how his natural essence field interacted with it. There was no difference between the essence he collected, and the ambient essence in the air. He couldn¡¯t feel a difference, aside from the fact that it was now ¡®his¡¯. With a smile, Nero let the essence he¡¯d collected move however it wanted. Slowly, he kept collapsing the field tighter and tighter. Soon he started to feel some tension in his head, as if there was a weight on his mind. It was the mental equivalent of holding your abs tight. It was uncomfortable, but he could deal with it. The collected essence was under pressure and as a result it was cycling around his body like river rapids. Examining it, he compared it to Jennings''. Although he was several feet away, he thought they looked the same. Opening his eyes, he saw a stunned Jennings. Nero ignored his expression, and said, ¡°So how is this like armor? It¡¯s just like wrapping yourself in essence. I don¡¯t see how that will stop a knife.¡± Jennings had watched as Nero created a very respectable essence shield. His attention snapped to Nero standing there with a frown on his face, and his hands on his hips. Jennings muttered, ¡°What was that?¡± Nero rolled his eyes, ¡°I just don¡¯t see how doing this with essence will do anything. It¡¯s just me claiming the essence around me, and compressing it.¡± Jennings eyes narrowed, and he waved his hand. A spear of light several inches thick shot at Nero and struck him in the chest. Nero¡¯s eyes widened as he was lifted off his feet and flew backward into the wall. Bouncing off, he landed on his hands and knees. In order to demonstrate their new distance from each other, Jennings said loudly, ¡°Without an essence shield, that would have gone right through you.¡± Walking up to Nero, Jennings watched the boy patting his chest. With barely any effort, Nero rebuilt his shield like it was a reflex. As Nero stood up, Jennings said to him, ¡°It¡¯s a thin film of essence that intercepts and absorbs things that you don¡¯t want to touch you. Whether it¡¯s a knife, an arrow, or a spell made from foreign essence. When you called it mage-armor, you weren¡¯t wrong.¡± Nero reached out and retrieved his coffee cup from Jennings hand. Taking a sip, he replied, ¡°I¡¯m calling it mage-armor. It¡¯s not a film. Stop calling it that.¡± Jennings pursed his lips in annoyance and hissed, ¡°It is a film. That¡¯s what it is described as, because that¡¯s what it is. Nero¡¯s blank eyes met Jennings in a stare down. Without breaking eye contact, Nero took another sip of his coffee, and said, ¡°Agree to disagree. But for the record, you¡¯re wrong. Stand there in your wrongness and be wrong." Jennings eyes widened, and he could feel cheering from the mage council. With a huff, he turned around and walked back to the center of the testing area. ¡®Perhaps giving those bastards a way to monitor us was a mistake. That little shit is going to give them ideas,¡¯ he thought. Chapter 45 - Popularity has its downsides. City Lord Cosgrave was in a meeting with several department heads from various city services. They were discussing the recent influx of hunters and adventurers clogging gate 15. The short but methodical actions of the Populators had left bodies with loot spread all over the woods, along with localized essence storms assaulting the entire area. The woods had always been dangerous, but now they were a death trap. Looking up from the paper in her hands, She looked at the scry-record of what¡¯s left of one of Dorchen¡¯s estates. The buildings were in ruins, and creatures stalked the grounds. Their black skin looked wet, and their snouts made them look like severely mutated hounds. Apparently, they were spawning from somewhere among the rubble. Lord Cosgrave groaned in annoyance. ¡°How long ago was this recorded, and what¡¯s the spawn rate? Also, has the Hunters guild been alerted?¡± she asked. One of the paper pushers lived up to his title, and sorted through his folder for the answer. Without warning, the doors to their conference room slammed open. The wood creaked as they were stopped by their hinges. Lord Cosgrave¡¯s aide, Ms. Chandler strode in with a look of concern plain on her face. ¡°M¡¯lord, may I have a moment of your time?¡± Ms. Chandler asked, as she sent a message to Lord Cosgrave¡¯s link, ¡°It¡¯s a code cyan.¡± Standing quickly, but with grace, Lord Cosgrave addressed the room, ¡°You all know what to do. Make sure the Hunter¡¯s Guild is alerted, and send them all the information we have. Ask the army for support if you have to. The numbers must be culled quickly, we don¡¯t want to give the essence time to condense into permanent spawn zones. It¡¯s much easier to prevent them now, than to clear them out later.¡± With a nod, she followed a nervous Ms. Chandler into the hallway. The pace was uncomfortably quick as they walked to the city lord¡¯s office. Lord Cosgrave leaned over and asked, ¡°What¡¯s this about?¡± Ms. Chandler whispered, ¡°Master Derek seems to be aiding the Assassins Guild. He escorted an assassination team to the Tower of Law, where they offered a formal assassination challenge to ¡®the commoner Nero Walker¡¯. As the contract was requested by House Cranston, who no longer has a presence in Dorchester, it required someone from the city lord¡¯s house to sign off on it. Master Derek was there to act as House Cosgrave¡¯s heir and representative.¡± Stopping in the hall, Lord Cosgrave¡¯s jaw had dropped. She was staring at Ms. Chandler as though the woman was spouting gibberish. ¡°When did this happen?¡± She asked. Ms. Chandler folded her hands in front of her waist and pursed her lips. ¡°Less than 10 minutes ago. One of the associates there realized that something didn¡¯t seem right. He contacted the guard to report the event, because he recognized Mr. Walker¡¯s name from the Noble War results. The local reports have been running articles on Mr. Walkers rise to nobility and the intricacies of the laws concerning our recent Noble War.¡± Taking a deep breath, Lord Cosgrave forced herself into action. Resuming their march to her office, she said, ¡°I don¡¯t understand. Lord Walker is a new noble. The law is quite clear, he cannot be challenged for 100 years. Why is the Tower of Law allowing it?¡± With a wave of her hand, the ceiling high doors to her office opened while she and her aide talked. Closing the doors behind them, Lord Cosgrave went straight to the wet bar and poured herself some wine. Ms. Chandler replied, ¡°The associate at the Tower of Law was very helpful with his report. It seems that House Cranston took advantage of the fact that Mr. Walker hasn¡¯t taken the pledge yet. It¡¯s a technicality that only applies because he met with you personally, but didn¡¯t take the pledge. In the strictest sense of the law, that means that he refused to pledge. Until he does so, he will remain a commoner. Had that meeting not taken place, Mr. Walker would have remained a new noble under protection of the crown. For the brief time that a new noble stands before a city lord, they are under the city lord¡¯s protection, not the crown¡¯s. Therefore, Master Derek could allow a challenge.¡± Lord Cosgrave paled, ¡°It would appear to all those who witnessed it, that we were playing the game to remove Mr. Walker before he could become a noble. It would be legal, as our House didn¡¯t initiate the challenge, only allowed it. The crown will be angry, but will be without recourse. They¡¯ll change the law immediately, but that won¡¯t help Mr. Walker. Wait¡­ What was the reason stated for the challenge? If I recall, a noble house can only initiate an assassination challenge to a commoner under specific rules.¡± Ms. Chandler nodded, ¡°The challenge listed a blood grievance. It seems that the mage council executed our previous court mage, Lord Cranston¡¯s son, because he wouldn¡¯t agree to protect Mr. Walker. Arch-Mage Mathers stated so in open court, for all the nobles to hear. It¡¯s another technicality. Lord Cranston¡¯s son was executed for refusing orders, but he is stating that a blood grievance still applies. Technically, his noble son fell so that a commoner could rise. That allows for the noble house to ¡®test his blood¡¯, to see if the sacrifice is worthy. Hence the assassination challenge. ¡°As the challenge is lawful, guards have been dispatched to collect Mr. Walker and take him to the gate 5 arena. He will be facing one Caleb Nadric. 19 years old, level 8, specializing in close quarter combat with swords and knives. Apparently he has some skill in wind manipulation and has been trained by a High Hunter since he awakened. As he is within one level of Mr. Walker, it is a legal blood challenge.¡± Lord Cosgrave took a gulp of wine, and said, ¡°So to sum up. My idiot son dragged my house into an assassination attempt on a new noble who has the eyes of the mage council following him, in addition to the protection of the crown. All right, we¡¯ll just have to deal with it. The assassination attempt is completely legal, so we can¡¯t stop it. Therefore, we need to prepare for repercussions from our new court mage and the crown itself.¡± Ms. Chandler helpfully added, ¡°Don¡¯t forget Vera Salvatore.¡± Lord Cosgrave¡¯s shoulders slumped. ¡°If Nero doesn¡¯t kill Derek, I¡¯m going to. Collect my daughter from wherever she is, we better be at the arena to mitigate whatever damage we can.¡± Support the author by searching for the original publication of this novel. ----- Nero was walking through the halls of the research center, mentally going over the three combat spells he learned. He found the principles of combat casting extremely interesting. Absently, he used his psychic field to flex and release a little of the pressure from his essence shield, or ¡®mage-armor¡¯ as he called it. Arch-Mage Jennings said that Nero shouldn¡¯t keep the shield up, as having it active drained his center. Nero didn¡¯t notice any particular drain though. His center was hovering around 70%, even after some serious magic practice. His guess was that everyone else was just doing it wrong. With his link still in his pocket, Nero mentally reached out to it. Connecting through his field was easy, and he didn¡¯t understand why everyone didn¡¯t do it. Sending a ping to Nick¡¯s office door, he kept playing with his mage-armor. Receiving the signal, he walked in with a smile. ¡°Hey Nick, ready for lunch?¡± he said. Nick was leaning against his desk as his two lab assistants were seated in comfy chairs taking notes. He looked up to Nero and said, ¡°We can leave in a minute.¡± Nero nodded and went to grab some cookies from the tray that Nick always seemed to have by the coffee. Kendra sent Nero a ping without looking at him. Raising his eyebrows, Nero accepted the connection. ¡°What¡¯s up?¡± he said. While she was listening to Nick go over some duties and assignments, she looked like she wasn¡¯t paying attention to Nero at all. Over the link, she said, ¡°I wanted to thank you for your trust. Nick told me what you said, and I appreciate that trust. I won¡¯t abuse it. If possible, I¡¯d like to join the research team. I think I¡¯d be able to help you on your path. It will be exciting and I think I could learn a lot.¡± Nero was munching on a cookie, and staring at her while he poured himself some coffee. He thought it was kind of creepy how she could be talking to him, while looking like she wasn¡¯t. Rather than think too much about it, he just said, ¡°Sure. I don¡¯t mind. Just tell Nick that you¡¯re now part of team Nero. Don¡¯t worry, I¡¯ll get us some team robes or something.¡± Right as he closed the connection, the doors to Nick¡¯s office opened and in walked three very large guards. Nick stood up with a frown on his face, and he squared his shoulder as he demanded, ¡°What can I do for you?¡± The lead guard was a large woman with what looked like a bat on her hip. She said, ¡°We¡¯re here for Mr. Nero Walker. He¡¯s been formally challenged in the arena. As it is a lawful assassination challenge, it falls under the accords.¡± Seeing Nick¡¯s growing anger, she continued, ¡°If you would like to submit a complaint, feel free to accompany us director. However, we won¡¯t be stopped from taking him.¡± Nero was in a great mood from his combat practice, and he continued to munch on his cookie. Wanting to head off any unpleasantness, he said, ¡°Sure, I¡¯ll go with you. Don¡¯t worry Nick, it¡¯s fine.¡± Every head in the room snapped to him as his cheery tone was so unexpected. Nick gave him a confused look and said, ¡°You¡¯re just willing to go with them? No questions asked?¡± Nero took the last sip of his coffee and set the cup in the sink. Walking over to the guards, he spoke over his shoulder, ¡°You thought the nobles would let a nobody like me join them without doing anything? You¡¯re adorable, you know that?¡± Waving goodbye to Kendra and David, Nick¡¯s lab assistants, Nero maneuvered around the shoulders of the giant guards. ¡°Are we going, or what? I¡¯m missing lunch for this,¡± he said. Exchanging confused glances with each other, the guards followed Nero out. Nick just stood there and watched the group leave with a stunned expression. ¡®Vera¡¯s going to go on a Gods be damned warpath,¡¯ he thought in horror. Nick caught up with Nero and the guards as they were getting into a carriage. While Nick enjoyed the ride while sitting next to the guard leader, Nero was sandwiched between the other two. Nero did his best to make small talk about what the guards usually dealt with, and whether or not they liked their job. Overall, the ride was rather pleasant for Nero. He enjoyed being among the working class again. The longer he stayed in this world, the more he saw parallels to his old one. People at the Center were like the activists. They had grand ideas, and believed in things. Nobles were like the rich assholes. Most people were probably like these guards. They just went about their day, and tried to avoid having to deal with annoying people. Nero¡¯s compliant attitude caused them to treat him with respect and they answered all his questions with smiles and stories. Eventually, they came to a teleport center. They had to go to a different gate for the arena. Of course, this caused Nero to be interested in jurisdictional questions. He asked where they usually ¡®guarded¡¯ or whatever it was called. It turned out that their squad was assigned to the Tower of Law. They were a special squad for high profile retrievals. Picking up Nero apparently required a fantasy S.W.A.T. team, and his pride was immeasurable. As they finally arrived at the arena. Nero got out of the carriage to stare in wonder at the giant structure. It was bigger than a football stadium. Made of solid white stone, Nero thought the coliseum in Rome would be jealous of the arena¡¯s splendor. Instead of columns, there were crystal pillars that glowed with essence and displayed the fights that were currently under way. There were people everywhere, walking in and out of giant archways with flags and banners waving all over the place. Looking around, Nero saw people dressed in every manner of medieval theme he could think of. There were knights in full plate, walking alongside commoners and nobles. Carriages were everywhere, along with horses. The excitement in the air reminded Nero of the one time he went to a UFC match. He felt one of the guards put a hand on his shoulder, and he looked up to see him gesture with his head. Nero nodded, and followed. Raising his voice a little to be heard over the crowd, Nero asked, ¡°So what happens now?¡± The guard next to him, who he had found out was named Bill, said, ¡°We take you to the adjudicator, they should be near the sign-in podium. They¡¯ll take you to the challenge room, fill out some paperwork, then you fight. I¡¯ll be watching, so die well. Make the bastards bleed at least. Spit in their eye till the end.¡± Nero looked up at the big guy. Bill was like a caricature of the stubborn bruiser. He would have fit in well in the Hollywood version of Boston. Nero smiled at him and said, ¡°Will do big guy. Hey, what do I get if I win? You know, in addition to not dying.¡± Bill looked confused. ¡°I don¡¯t know. There¡¯s always a payout I think. Make sure you ask. You really think you have a chance?¡± he asked as he looked down at Nero with appraisal. Nero¡¯s grin widened. ¡°Is there betting?¡± he asked. Bill returned the smile and replied, ¡°Sure is. It¡¯s a formal challenge, so it will be shown on the arena banner too. The recording will be available over the link. If the odds are good, I¡¯ll bet on you. Keep your chin up, and face it head on. My dad always said, ¡®When your path is blocked, you can either go around and waste time, or go over whatever is in your way, it¡¯s always your choice¡¯.¡± Nodding at the big lug, Nero looked around to appreciate the large archways, spectators, and vendors. He couldn¡¯t help but get caught up in the moment. The guards led Nero and Nick through a hallway off the main corridors. Finally being led into a large conference room, Nero was surprised to see so many people. Looking around at some unfamiliar faces, he said with a smile, ¡°OK. So who here wants me dead? Raise your hands high, I need to know who to kill after lunch.¡± Chapter 46 - Sure, but what do I get out of it? Arch-Mage Jennings was sitting at his desk in the Mage Tower of Dorchester, going over the records of their operations. His feet were up, and he was sipping his coffee as one part of his mind was cycling through multiple reports. But a majority of his mind was preoccupied with analyzing the impromptu ''class'', if he could even call it that, which he had just had with Nero. Through his weak scry-connection to the Mage Tower in Hennings, he could still sense the mage council arguing and shouting at each other. Nero¡¯s antics were enough to cause them to hold an emergency meeting. Shaking his head, he wondered if the boy was right. Have they just been stagnating? Right as he was about to open a separate connection for a scry-meeting with the mage council, they beat him to it. Sensing them reaching out to form the connection, he pulled his feet off the desk and stood up. He focused, then reached to complete the connection, a floating window appeared and he saw Mathers along with a few others standing there with looks of concern. Jennings raised his eyebrows in surprise. ¡°Judging from the looks on your faces, this isn¡¯t about Nero¡¯s theories?¡± he asked. Mathers shook his head, and replied, ¡°No. It seems the king had tried to warn me of something, but I didn¡¯t realize it at the time. We just confirmed that House Cranston has paid the Assassins Guild to initiate a formal assassination challenge against Nero. The guards in Dorchester are escorting him to the arena as we speak.¡± Jennings brow furrowed in anger, ¡°On what grounds? And what type of challenge specifically?¡± Mathers said, ¡°A blood challenge. They used the old ''honor rule''. If you recall, they used it ages ago to dissuade noble killings. It was from back when we had that conflict in the north. It''s still technically in the books, but it hasn¡¯t been applied in forever since the new noble law trumps it. Lord Cranston found a loophole and somehow got the Cosgrave heir to go along with it.¡± Jennings reached into his memory for the details. His face looked confused as he asked, ¡°But that requires the challenger to be within one level of the challenged? Right?¡± Mathers took a second to think, then burst into laughter. As the others in council room caught on, they all started laughing as well. Jennings joined in, but with some effort he managed to get out, ¡°I have to get to the arena. I have some bets to place.¡± Without waiting for a response, Jennings forced the connection to close. He caught his breath while still smiling. Walking over to the balcony attached to his office, near the top of the tower, he brought up the city plan on his link. Unfortunately, he couldn¡¯t find the listing for the challenge. They must not have posted it yet. Frowning, he spread his senses out as far as he could, trying to find a hint of Nero¡¯s essence trail. Lifting off into the air, he wrapped himself in a complicated shield of essence to appear invisible, and then flew off to follow Nero to the arena. ¡®This is going to be great, I wonder what the odds will be,¡¯ he thought to himself. ----- As the room stood in silence, with everyone staring at him, Nero heard Nick¡¯s whisper, ¡°Vera¡¯s in the building. She¡¯ll be here soon.¡± Nero looked over his shoulder and nodded. Showing no fear, he sauntered into the room. Looking around, he recognized the Cosgraves, the city lord with her two heirs. They were standing alongside Lord Bennings. And it seemed they even invited that general from his dinner at the keep. Unfortunately, he didn¡¯t recognize anyone else. Nero said, ¡°In all seriousness, you guys wanted me here. So let''s talk.¡± Expressions varied, but Nero¡¯s favorite was the city lord¡¯s, she looked so mad that Nero wanted to take a picture. Although, her son¡¯s was a close second. Lord Bennings coughed lightly then spoke in a professional tone, ¡°You have been called to answer a formal assassination challenge issued by House Cranston and executed by the Assassins Guild. Citing a blood grievance, the challenge was reviewed then accepted as an assassination challenge by Master Derek Cosgrave of House Cosgrave, representing the current holder of the city-seat of Dorchester. Until the challenge is resolved, your ascension to nobility will be postponed. Do you understand the challenge?¡± Nero offered a blank look and crossed his arms. ¡°Who the fuck is House Cranston?¡± he asked. A lot of the people in the room paled, but Nero noticed the people on the left side of the room smiled. There was a giant guy wearing black leather, who was obviously the assassin. There were two teenagers with him, a guy built like a spring, and a chick that looked like she spent her free time doing squats. Nero looked over at her, and tried to appreciate her form without making it obvious. Lord Bennings spoke up, forcing Nero to pay attention again, ¡°House Cranston is a Great House from Hennings,¡± seeing as that meant nothing to Nero, she continued, ¡°Hennings is the capital of Oglivarch.¡± Nero shrugged, then said, ¡°Cool. So what does that have to do with me?¡± Before Lord Bennings could reply, the doors behind Nero opened and he sensed Mrs. Salvatore barge into the room. He couldn¡¯t hide his grin as he felt her barely-controlled fury. ¡®I should have stopped at a vendor for some popcorn or something,¡¯ he thought. Vera walked up to stand at Nero¡¯s side, and in a cold voice that filled the room she said, ¡°As proxy to House Walker, appointed in the presence of the city lord, why was I not notified of this farce?¡± Although she addressed the room, Vera¡¯s eyes made it clear that she was speaking to the city lord. With a tight voice, Lord Cosgrave replied, ¡°We only recently learned of this challenge. My son acted without my knowledge. Are you aware of the particulars of the challenge?¡± Vera¡¯s eyes took on an edge of violence, as she said, ¡°I obtained the details of the challenge on my own. Your office must have forgotten to forward them to me. As this is obviously an abuse of loopholes within our laws, you as the city lord have the power to stop this. Yet, it seems that you are allowing it to proceed unimpeded.¡± This tale has been unlawfully lifted from Royal Road. If you spot it on Amazon, please report it. Lord Cosgrave held Vera¡¯s stare and replied, ¡°To step in now would be an insult to House Cranston. My son made a mistake, I will not compound that mistake by making one of my own. House Cosgrave will abide by the law, and Lord Bennings has assured me that the challenge is legal.¡± Vera nodded, then replied with venom, ¡°House Walker has heard your words. We will remember them when our lord makes his pledge to Dorchester.¡± With a cruel smile, Derek Cosgrave retorted, ¡°If he has the chance, that is.¡± Nero realized that the anger in the room was getting to the point that someone might start throwing chairs, so he decided to step in. ¡°OK, so I¡¯m going to have a death match with an assassin. Since all the very noble ''nobles'' are on board with it, I don¡¯t have much choice. Now let¡¯s get to the important part. What do I get if I win?¡± Nero asked while crossing his arms and smirking. The room was staring at him, and Lord Bennings spoke as if she was reciting from a list in her link, ¡°The rules state that a blood grievance can be called after the death of a noble with a direct lineage to the head of their House. In the event of their victory, the challenged will be entitled to the assets of the noble that died. The funds and interests are to be held by Tower of Law until an accurate accounting can be made. As the Mage-adept Cranston was the noble in question, his assets were offered as collateral for the challenge. In addition, the Assassins Guild has to offer one half of the contract price to take the place of the challenger.¡± Nero returned a confused stare at Lord Bennings, then he turned to Vera and asked, ¡°What the hell did she just say?¡± Vera smiled, and said, ¡°A lot Nero. You¡¯d get a lot.¡± Nero held Vera¡¯s gaze, and then sent her a private ping. He could see her eyes slightly widen, but she accepted the connection without saying anything. Over the link, he asked, ¡°Can I bet on myself? More importantly, can we keep it secret?¡± Vera said out loud, ¡°It is very expensive for a noble house to offer this type of challenge. It seems that someone really wants you dead. Even if the challenge is legal, the repercussions from the crown will be felt for generations.¡± As she spoke out loud to Nero, she sent him a private response, ¡°How much do you want to bet? As far as I know, you don¡¯t have any money. It will be a while before your awards are processed.¡± Nero nodded in response to both statements. Over the link he replied, ¡°Didn¡¯t I win a bunch from the Noble War? Can¡¯t I use that as collateral?¡± And out loud he said to the room, ¡°Well, some people just don¡¯t like me being this attractive. It makes them feel threatened.¡± Vera didn¡¯t respond over the link. Closing the connection, she turned to the room and said, ¡°When will the challenge take place?¡± Lord Bennings replied, ¡°The paperwork has already been filed, and Mr. Walker was just formally notified. We will head to the reserved central arena from here.¡± Vera responded, ¡°I¡¯d like to request an hour to review our options and go over Mr. Walker¡¯s estate paperwork.¡± Lord Bennings nodded, then replied, ¡°That¡¯s acceptable. You can use the conference room across the hall. However, as the challenge has been formally ratified, guards will have to accompany Mr. Walker to ensure his participation.¡± Nodding in acceptance, Vera turned and walked out. Nero smiled at the room and said, ¡°I guess I''ll see you all in an hour. Toodles.¡± As Nero left, he saw Nick looking at Vera in confusion. When they made it to their conference room, the guards kindly agreed to wait outside the door without issue. Nero rubbed his hands with greed while asking, ¡°OK. What¡¯s the plan? How do I bet what I won from the Noble War?¡± Nick tried to speak up, but Vera held up a hand, silencing him. ¡°Nero, are you really going to bet everything on this?¡± she asked. Nero gave her a surprised look. ¡°You expect me to wait for an opportunity to spend it? Isn¡¯t this a death-match? If I lose, I¡¯m dead anyway. You worried about what I''m leaving you?¡± Nick couldn¡¯t hold in his questions any longer and blurted out, ¡°What the hell are you two talking about? Are we not going to try and put a stop to this insanity?¡± Nero looked at Nick with a grin and said, ¡°Some assholes went to a lot of trouble to try and kill me. But like most people here, they¡¯re idiots. First, I¡¯m going to kill their assassin while laughing at them. Then, I¡¯m going to go collect my winnings and send them a thank you basket made up of assorted nuts. Salty nuts. Do you understand what I¡¯m hinting at?¡± Nick just shook his head and replied, ¡°I hardly ever understand what you¡¯re saying.¡± Turning to Vera he asked, ¡°We¡¯re just going to let this happen?¡± Vera¡¯s eyes were hard as she said, ¡°We don¡¯t have a choice. Too many powerful people want to see this to happen, and even Lord Cosgrave is staying out of it. We¡¯ll just have to rely on Nero to win. Can you do it Nero? Can you kill a man in the arena, in front of thousands of people, and in cold blood?¡± Nero¡¯s smile fell, but he replied, ¡°Look, I¡¯m not a murderer or anything. But since I¡¯ve come to this world, I¡¯ve come to realize that this is the way it is. And I¡¯ve already killed men during the Noble War. Yes, it was unpleasant, but they started it. I¡¯ll meet aggression with aggression. Don¡¯t worry about me. I¡¯ll win.¡± Vera held his stare for a moment, then nodded. ¡°Very well. As your proxy, I can place a bet for you with the arena bank. They¡¯ll have an auditor on hand to confirm the availability of funds, and we can offer your winnings from the Noble War as collateral. Although I''m sure they won¡¯t offer full price of your assets, it will still be a substantial sum. Do you want me to put it all on you to win?¡± Nero¡¯s smile returned as he said, ¡°Yup. Everything I have, put it on me to win.¡± Vera offered a quick nod, and then turned to leave. As Nero and Nick watched her go, Nick said seriously, ¡°Nero, just because you survived some mercenaries, it doesn¡¯t mean you¡¯ll survive an assassin. These people have trained for years in the art of killing.¡± Nero responded easily, ¡°Can we just take a minute to acknowledge how ridiculous it is that you people have laws governing assassinations? When I found out that you guys regulated kickbacks and standardized rich people appointing their friends to impressive positions within the government, I was impressed. Finding out about Noble Wars, and that you regulated fighting to avoid impacting the lives of the commoners, I was amazed. But regulating how to assassinate people? That¡¯s too much. Do you have laws on how to legally do everything?¡± Nick was taken aback at Nero¡¯s question, and replied, ¡°Of course we do. Isn¡¯t that the point of laws? So that the best way to do something is agreed upon, and everyone follows the rules?¡± Nero shook his head and said, ¡°But isn¡¯t there something that is truly banned? Like morally wrong? What about prostitution or cannibalism?¡± Confused, Nick said, ¡°What¡¯s morally wrong with prostitution and cannibalism? Prostitutes are protected by the same laws as everyone else. Their industry has some more regulations because it affects public health, but calling the industry morally wrong is illogical. And why would anyone want to eat people? Nero, you¡¯re not making any sense.¡± Nero looked at Nick as if he couldn¡¯t believe the words coming out of the straight-laced man¡¯s mouth. ¡°So everything is approached in a logical manner? What about how people feel about things?¡± Nero asked. Nick was getting frustrated. ¡°Nero, what the hell do feelings have to do with governance? Everyone feels differently about things, that¡¯s free will. Laws based on anything other than logical arguments, backed up by verifiable data, would lead to chaos. What the hell kind of world did you come from?¡± Walking over to a chair, Nero took a seat and thought about how to answer that question. Looking at Nick, he said, ¡°Right and wrong was determined by belief systems and social pressures. There were arguments all the time. Everyone chose sides and debated the validity of their side using whatever facts they wanted to consider true. People got to pick and choose the argument that they felt was the most accurate representation of their world-view.¡± Nick gave Nero a look of pure horror. ¡°How did that not lead to madness?¡± Nero nodded with a fond smile, and replied, ¡°It did¡­. and it was awesome.¡± ¡°That¡¯s the craziest thing I think you¡¯ve ever said,¡± Nick said. ¡°In less than an hour I¡¯m going to walk into an arena for my scheduled assassination attempt, which will be overseen by the local government. Now THAT¡¯S crazy,¡± Nero said in response. Chapter 47 - The fight youve all been waiting for. Rose watched the target leave with the guards and his attendants. The boy, Nero Walker, was nothing like she expected. She couldn''t decide whether he was an overconfident idiot, or he just didn¡¯t understand what was going on. She felt kinda bad for him. But then she remembered that cruel smirk of his. She decided that he knew exactly what he was doing. Rose looked around the room, and while everyone was talking politics, and strategy, she thought back to what Nero had actually said. He was planning on killing those who wanted him dead. At the time, she had thought he was joking. But his eyes weren¡¯t laughing. His smirk was cold. He truly believed he¡¯d win. Looking around, she saw that Ulric had pulled Caleb off to the side of the room and they were having a quiet conversation. Caleb looked excited and ready, while Ulric was as serious as ever. With a sigh, Rose decided to take a seat at the table everyone was ignoring. While being discreet, she listened to the city lord berate her son. Lord Cosgrave hissed, ¡°You¡¯re not listening to me, Derek. I understand what you¡¯re saying, but you''re not thinking things through. Yes, this is legal. Yes, you have backing from the capital. Yes, the boy will die. Just because all of that is true, doesn¡¯t mean that the royals won¡¯t be upset, not to mention the mage council. You have to realize that the head of the mage council is currently in Dorchester¡¯s mage tower, acting as the court wizard. He is only here for Nero Walker. What do you think he¡¯ll do in response to us allowing the boy to be killed while under our protection?¡± Derek Cosgrave had a stubborn look on his face as he replied, ¡°What CAN they do? The law is clear. They have no recourse. They can¡¯t legally sanction us. Lord Cranston planned this too well. You said the boy was dangerous, and now he will no longer be an issue. I don¡¯t understand why you are so angry. I thought you¡¯d be proud that I solved the problem, and even gained us an ally in the capital.¡± Rose thought that the Cosgrave heir had a point. All he did was allow another house to play their game in Dorchester. He lost nothing, and gained allies. Lord Cosgrave¡¯s daughter spoke up in a harsh whisper, and Rose leaned in to hear what she was saying. ¡°Brother, you aren¡¯t considering all the ways that we can still be hindered. Without the mages, our eyes are blinded. Without the royals, our hold on Dorchester will rely solely on our own strength. A thousand small things you take for granted can be taken from us. Not to mention the real threat that you are both ignoring,¡± she said. Lord Cosgrave looked curiously at her daughter and asked, ¡°What real threat? Mrs Salvatore? She will be difficult to deal with, but as long as we raise Mr. Walker to nobility after his death, her teeth will be pulled for the most part. She will have served as a proxy to a fallen house. House Salvatore won¡¯t stick their neck out for her.¡± Shaking her head frantically, Deidre Cosgrave said, ¡°Not Mrs. Salvatore. Nero Walker. Remember what we saw in the Noble War. Remember that he lived, and five mercenaries didn¡¯t. Ask yourselves, what if he wins?¡± Both Lord Cosgrave and Derek were silent. Derek looked confused, and Lord Cosgrave rubbed her chin in thought. Rose leaned back in her chair and looked over at the general standing next to the lord from the Tower of Law. They were whispering to each other, and both of them were smiling. Although she couldn¡¯t hear what they said, they both looked like they were in on a private joke. She was getting the feeling that things were going to go very wrong, very soon. When she had taken the apprenticeship with Ulric, it was for hunting. She had known that he was a member of the Assassins Guild, but he said that it would be years before she would have to choose her path. She was a hunter. She liked facing worthy prey in combat. But, this political crap was not what she signed up for. If she did nothing, her path would be chosen for her. Standing up, she walked up to the lord from the Tower of Law. ¡°Excuse me Lord Bennings,¡± she said. The general and Lord Bennings both turned to Rose, and Lord Bennings answered, ¡°Yes? Is there a clarification of the law that you require?¡± Shaking her head, she replied in a quiet tone, ¡°I was just curious if my name is on the paperwork for this challenge.¡± With a curious tilt to her head, Lord Bennings replied, ¡°Why do you ask?¡± Sighing, Rose replied, ¡°I¡¯m a hunter. I was just training to be a hunter. I¡¯m not liking the fact that I¡¯m being pulled into these political games. I looked into that boy''s eyes, and I¡¯m pretty sure I don¡¯t want him knowing my name. In fact, I¡¯d like to know if I sever my relationship with my teacher, will I still be associated with his actions?¡± The general chuckled. Lord Bennings smiled and replied, ¡°If you remove yourself from your current employment situation, then I will ensure that you will no longer be listed as a member of the assassination party. Does that answer your question?¡± Rose sighed in relief, ¡°Yes it does. Thank you m¡¯lord.¡± With a slight bow, she turned to walk away, but was stopped by the general. ¡°After you end your apprenticeship, come back. I¡¯d like a word if you don¡¯t mind. I¡¯d like to offer you an opportunity that could help us both,¡± he said. Rose¡¯s eyes widened in surprise. Dorchester¡¯s general wanted to speak with her? Well it¡¯s true what they say, ¡®Paths are winding, obstructions temporary, so keep moving forward¡¯. Nodding to the general, she walked over to Ulric to let him know her decision. ----- Nero was walking down the hallway to the arena with an easy smile on his face. The guards were flanking him, and Nick was blathering about strategy and how to ¡®seize the essence¡¯. Bill, the guard, was walking next to him with a smile. All in all, Nero felt like he was walking to the cage with his posse. Nick was waving his hands, trying to force Nero to listen. ¡°Nero, this is important. You have to take control of the essence quickly. Your opponent won¡¯t have a pillar, but just because he doesn¡¯t have abilities doesn¡¯t mean you aren¡¯t in danger. Cho-¡± Nero stumbled and interrupted Nick, ¡°Hold up. How can a guy that old not have a pillar. I thought people got their first pillar at level 10?¡± Nick looked at Nero in confusion. ¡°He can¡¯t be more than 20, you think that is old? And people don¡¯t level at your speed. By law, your challenger can only be within a level of you. So he must be no higher than level 8. Wait¡­ who do you think you¡¯re fighting?¡± he asked. Nero kept walking while trying to figure out what Nick was talking about. ¡°The big assassin guy. I¡¯m not fighting him?¡± he asked. Reading on Amazon or a pirate site? This novel is from Royal Road. Support the author by reading it there. Bill the guard started laughing. ¡°Sorry, don¡¯t mind me. I¡¯m not here. Continue,¡± he said and gestured for them to ignore him. Nick sighed and said, ¡°Nero, you¡¯ll be facing the young man who was standing next to him. Now listen closely. He will be using blades, are you sure you don¡¯t want a sword and some armor?¡± Nero was elated. He was fighting the little guy. Now that he thought about it, that seemed wrong. Ignoring Nick¡¯s question, Nero asked, ¡°Isn¡¯t that a little unfair?¡± Not understanding what Nero meant, Nick said, ¡°You¡¯re allowed armor and weapons. The man is a trained killer. You don¡¯t think they¡¯d force you to fight him with your bare hands, do you?¡± Nero decided that it wasn¡¯t worth arguing about it. After all, if the young man wanted to kill Nero, he had it coming. As they were nearing the end of the hallway, the doors were open and Nero could see a large stadium. It looked like they were walking into the Roman Colosseum, but broken up into little fighting platforms. Each had a hovering screen showing what was going on in the mini arenas. There were thousands of people in the stands, and a large center platform was raised in the center. Above everything was a hologram that put the Jumbotron to shame. With his awe evident on his face, Nero absently followed the guards as he looked around. Nick was shouting instructions, trying to get Nero to pay attention. It was obvious that Nick thought Nero was in trouble. The guards led Nero up some stairs and onto a very large, flat, stone arena. They pointed him to a colored section and Bill wished him luck. As they left, Nero half-heartedly waved goodbye to them. He was busy staring at the crowds, and looking down at the fights that were happening on the little platforms below. Nick grabbed Nero¡¯s shoulders and forced Nero to look at him. ¡°Nero, please listen to me,¡± he begged. Nero, seeing the concern on Nick¡¯s face, forced himself to pay attention. ¡°Nick, don¡¯t worry. I¡¯ll be fine. You¡¯re worrying over nothing,¡± he said. ¡°Just make sure that you focus everything on disrupting your opponent¡¯s local essence field. If you don¡¯t take control of it, you¡¯re dead. Do you understand?¡± Nick asked while squeezing Nero¡¯s shoulders. Nero gave him a soft smile. ¡°Nick, I need you to listen to me. This isn¡¯t a fight between a swordsman and a mage. It¡¯s a defended position with a cannon, being charged by a guy with a knife. Don¡¯t worry. But I need to know if there will be a shield around the arena. I don¡¯t want to hurt anyone in the crowd,¡± he said while gently prying Nick¡¯s hands off his shoulders. Nick seemed to deflate. ¡°Yes Nero, there is a shield. Good luck. I may not have known you for long, but every moment with you has invigorated my life. Your passion and enthusiasm have left their mark on my path. Vera and I will remember you for the rest of our lives. Rest assured, Vera won¡¯t stop until you are avenged,¡± he finished with iron in his voice. Nero gave him a confused look. Glancing over, he saw that the skinny guy was already waiting for him near the center of the arena. Turning to Nick, he gave him a hard slap on the shoulder and said, ¡°Worst pep talk ever. We¡¯ll have to work on that for next time. Tell Vera thanks for placing the bet, and she should stay near the place to turn it in. This won¡¯t take long.¡± Nero then walked off toward the small circle he assumed was his starting position. Nick watched his friend walk to his death with such confidence. ¡®What a remarkable young man,¡¯ he thought as he hurried down the stairs toward the observation nook for aides and attendants. Nero walked calmly, and kept his eyes on his opponent. All the while, he was compacting more and more essence into his shield. He made sure not to stress himself, but he hovered near his limit. Seeing his opponent grinning while holding a sword and knife, Nero couldn¡¯t help but shake his head. As Nero stepped into the circle, he said, ¡°Are you sure you want to do this? It¡¯s not going to end well for you.¡± Caleb¡¯s smile widened and he spread his arms out to display his weapons. ¡°I¡¯m going to take my time. I would have fought you for free, just to be able to get my name on the arena board. By the end of the day, everyone will know who I am. I¡¯d apologize for what I¡¯m going to put you through, but I don¡¯t talk to dead men,¡± he said. Nero could feel a shield form over the outside of the arena. As it went up, the crowd quieted as the sound was blocked off. In seconds, they were inside a clear dome of silence. Nero was fascinated. It felt like a wall in his psychic senses. He could no longer extend his psyche past the edge of the arena. Nero looked over at his opponent and replied, ¡°That¡¯s some solid trash talk. But just to be really sure, I¡¯ll ask you one more time. Do you really wanna die today?¡± Above them, hovering in the air, a timer appeared. It was displaying large gold numbers, while a strong, yet feminine, voice counted down from 10. The numbers were turning more red as they reached zero. Nero looked over at his opponent and watched him hop around and sneer. Standing there calmly, Nero waited for the countdown to reach two. Just as he was about to start his spell form, he decided to wait. There might be some rule or something. It was better to wait for the fight to actually start. When the countdown hit zero, the woman said, ¡°FIGHT!¡± Like a dog being let off the leash, Caleb shot forward while spinning in the air like a top. As his sword slashed, the tip hit Nero¡¯s neck. As he landed, Caleb spun in order to hamstring Nero. Completing his maneuver, Caleb continued past Nero and rolled to a stop while turning to face Nero¡¯s back. Nero hadn¡¯t moved. He was using his psychic field to keep himself in place, so the strength of the strikes wouldn¡¯t send him flying like Jennings had. Caleb¡¯s blades had slid across his shield without causing any damage. In fact, Nero barely registered the impacts. He had expected more from the cocky assassin. Not in a hurry, Nero focused on the spell-form he was carving into existence above his right hand. Turning slowly, he faced the crouching assassin while the variation on the plasma spell Arch-Mage Jennings taught Nero a couple of hours ago completed. Where Jennings had used a spell-form to collect heat, hydrogen, and lightning; Nero had adjusted it to only pull in ''light essence''. While Jennings had imparted his center on the essence, and forced the plasma to become an extension of his will; Nero just collected and compacted light and then aimed it at his opponent. There was so much light essence around that it was easy to grab more than enough for his needs. Caleb was shocked that he had missed. He was sure he had felt his blades connect. Crouching, Caleb watched as Nero turned to face him. Seeing that Nero was casting something, he shot forward. Or it¡¯s more accurate to say that he was about to shoot forward. Nero had carved, charged, and fired his spell in less than 3 seconds. As it was light essence, the moment it transitioned into coherent light, it was already boring a fist sized hole through Caleb¡¯s chest. Nero wasn¡¯t using his will to fire it, he just directed it. He didn¡¯t have to force his will through Caleb¡¯s psychic field. He just shot a laser at him. The fact that mages didn¡¯t create environmental effects like this to bypass psychic fields was just another reason why Nero thought they were all idiots. Even if a person had some natural essence protecting them, it was much easier to bore through it with a laser than trying to engage in a battle of wills. Or at least that¡¯s what he took away from his ONE magic lesson. Jennings said that mages summoned and threw rocks, caused area of effect fireballs, hurled lightning from the heavens, created pillars of fire, and webs of razor sharp steel. But no one had made a laser pointer. Watching a confused Caleb reach up to touch the large hole in his chest, Nero looked at him with sadness in his eyes. The young man¡¯s essence field wasn¡¯t remotely strong enough to stop his laser. Nero had never been a physical bully, and he didn¡¯t like feeling like one. Caleb¡¯s eyes met Nero¡¯s, and Nero saw the instant the man realized that he was dead. Moments later, the lights went out, and Caleb collapsed. Nero felt awful. This wasn¡¯t combat. This wasn¡¯t a victory. Nero was going to have a long talk with the assholes that sent this poor guy to die for their pride. As Nero stared at Caleb¡¯s corpse, the arena shield went down. The stadium was much quieter than it was when the shield had gone up. Nero wasn¡¯t close enough to see faces amongst the crowd, but he felt like the place was holding its breath. A hologram appeared in the same place where the timer hovered earlier. It said, ¡°Winner: Nero Walker.¡± The lady¡¯s voice narrated, but this time she sounded a little confused. Nero gave one last glance at Caleb¡¯s body, then started looking around. He didn''t see a referee, or anyone else for that matter. He coughed into his hand to clear his throat, then loudly said, ¡°Um¡­ he¡¯s dead. Challenge completed or whatever. Anyone wanna point me toward the exit? Maybe bring me a sandwich? I skipped lunch for this.¡± Chapter 48 - People fight for money, not trophies. The king had expected this meeting, but that didn¡¯t mean he would enjoy it. He leaned back in his chair, sipping his wine, listening to the events unfold as expected. His leadership council was using their private meeting hall. Although the general shape was the same, it was much smaller than the public Hall of Nobles. The king sat at the head of a semi circle, with his council surrounding him. They only met here when they needed to address conflicts and events that shouldn¡¯t be discussed in view of the public. Which was a fancy way of saying, this was the room they used when someone screwed up. In the petitioner''s circle, both Arch-Mage Mathers and Lord Hobbs were currently shouting at each other. Mathers was representing the Tower of Magic, and Lord Hobbs was the current director of the Hennings Tower of Law. Swirling the wine in his glass, King Oliver Oglivarch let the argument play out. Everything was proceeding as expected, and it wasn¡¯t his turn yet. Glancing over at Lord Hastings, the king waited for the man to snap. Seconds later, as expected, Lord Hastings slammed his hand on the table and shouted, ¡°Enough!¡± All of the eyes in the room snapped to Lord Hastings. Both Mathers and Hobbs exchanged angry glares, but kept silent. Lord Hastings said, ¡°I haven¡¯t been able to follow what you two are talking about. But Arch-Mage Mathers asked for this meeting, and so he shall be the first to speak. Start at the beginning, as a request for sanctions is a serious matter.¡± Mathers took a deep breath and said, ¡°A new noble in Dorchester has been targeted for assassination by Great House Cranston. They used a confluence of loopholes that allowed them to force the new noble into an arena challenge. I ask for sanctions because the law''s intention is clear, but Lord Hobbs here says that the loopholes are valid until they have been closed. I ask that the council enforce the intention of the law, and to not allow spurious details to cloud the issue. Like any SANE person, I believe that a technicality does not trump a logical argument.¡± From the other side of the room, Lord Silverbrook spoke up, ¡°Lord Hobbs, I¡¯m assuming that you stand in opposition to the proposed sanctions?¡± Lord Hobbs nodded enthusiastically, and said, ¡°Yes, of course I do. It is against the law to sanction a House that has broken no law. That is a cornerstone of the noble house system. They found a loophole. They used it. It¡¯s up to this council to change it. You cannot punish them for following the letter of the law. I¡¯ve already submitted a report listing the required changes to the applicable laws so that these loopholes are closed. In a way, Great House Cranston should be rewarded for their ingenuity. While it doesn¡¯t technically qualify as an exploit, it comes close. This was a brilliant move.¡± Mathers snorted loudly and crossed his arms. Lord Hastings said, ¡°Arch-Mage Mathers, if the law has been followed, sanctions aren¡¯t the answer. Find another way to vent your frustration. Follow the law, but you are not without recourse. Every member of this council recognizes the slight to the royal house. But as it stands, the law is on House Cranston¡¯s side.¡± Mathers started arguing again, and Lord Hobbs took every opportunity to reiterate the importance of following the letter of the law. The king knew that Hobbs was an ardent supporter of House Cranston, and the man had probably been integral to their abuse of the system. All of this was a stupid attempt at making the mage council look foolish. Yet another example of proud nobles playing their stupid games of honor and retaliation. King Oliver didn¡¯t allow himself to smile as he mentally observed Nero¡¯s conversation with Nick while on their way to the arena. He had nudged things so that this meeting would happen at the same time as Nero¡¯s fight. His first pillar was observation, and there were very few events that he didn¡¯t notice in his kingdom. For him, scrying was as easy as breathing. He just hoped he had timed it correctly. Mathers finally had enough of this farce, and turned to face the king. ¡°Sire, what¡¯s your opinion on the subject. Do you plan to let this insult stand?¡± he asked with venom. The king finally allowed himself his smile. With a wave of his hand, a scrying portal appeared behind the petitioner''s circle. Mathers and Hobbs turned around, and the council all looked at portal. Lord Hastings said, ¡°Sire, what are we looking at?¡± The king spoke in a quiet voice, ¡°That is the arena in Dorchester. The young man with white hair is the new noble in question, his opponent is an apprentice loosely associated with the Assassin¡¯s Guild. As we speak, the new noble of House Walker meets the blood challenge in the arena.¡± The council chambers were silent as they watched the fight begin. Mathers started chuckling when Nero cast his spell, then burst out in laughter when Nero asked for a sandwich. The king waited a moment, then closed the scrying portal. Both Mathers and Hobbs turned back around to face the king. Lord Hobbs was pale, and his hands were shaking. The council was in stunned shock. Several of them were using their links to look up more information on the new noble. A level 7 shouldn¡¯t have been able to do that. Into the silence, the king spoke with a voice of steel, ¡°Lord Hobbs, the challenge was legal. Consider the loopholes now closed. I expect in the future, loopholes of this nature will be closed before they are exploited. House Oglivarch does not enjoy having its backing ignored. The new nobles are to be protected from actions like these. But it seems in this case, the noble in question handled it well enough on his own. I¡¯ll be holding you personally responsible for following the law you so vehemently defended. If I am reading this right, Great House Cranston owes Lord Walker a great deal of money. I expect you to make sure he gets it. Please let Lord Cranston know that I¡¯ll be checking to see that the law is enforced with the same zeal that it was abused. Am. I. Understood?¡± Lord Hobbs was nodding along, his eyes wide with fear. ¡°Yes Sire. I understand completely. I¡¯ll personally ensure that House Cranston pays what they owe. The Tower of Law will close the loopholes and this won¡¯t happen again. Thank you for your trust,¡± he said. With cold eyes, the king turned his head slightly to look at Arch-Mage Mathers and asked, ¡°Does this result satisfy the Tower of Magic?¡± Mathers was smirking. ¡°Yes, the mage council is satisfied. Thank you for your time, my king,¡± he said with a bow. This content has been misappropriated from Royal Road; report any instances of this story if found elsewhere. After Mathers and Hobbs left, the council sat in silence. Usually the king would dismiss them, but as he hadn¡¯t, they waited patiently. The king said to the chamber, ¡°All right everyone. Let¡¯s discuss the recent game House Cranston played. Who¡¯d like to start? I¡¯ll correct you along the way. There is much to be learned from House Cranston¡¯s recent gambit.¡± ----- Nero was being led back to a conference room by Bill the guard. He no longer had a posse, and Nick had apparently run off to meet with Vera. The man hadn¡¯t even taken the time to speak with him after the fight, and Nero wasn''t sure how to feel about that. Bill the guard was grumbling to himself about how much money Nero had lost him. Nero just kept smiling while pretending he couldn¡¯t hear him. It seemed that Bill had a buddy of his place a bet against Nero for him. Now Bill owed his friend 50 valens. When they got to the conference room, Bill said stiffly, ¡°It¡¯s that one there. It was nice meeting you Lord Walker.¡± As Bill was walking away, Nero spoke up, ¡°It was nice meeting you too. Too bad you aren¡¯t allowed to bet on things like this. You could have made a lot of money. Anyway, I''m sure I¡¯ll see you around.¡± Seeing Bill¡¯s shoulders slump, Nero¡¯s smile was ear to ear as he went into the conference room. He was surprised to see Nick there, arguing with Jennings. ¡°Hey guys. Nick, why¡¯d you run off?¡± he asked Nick turned to Nero with an annoyed look on his face and said, ¡°I didn¡¯t think you¡¯d actually win!?! I had to get to Vera and find out what was going on with the arena bank. I had convinced her not to use any of our funds to bet on you. After the fight, if you could call it that, she wasn¡¯t answering her pings. So I had to go find her to find out what the hell was going on.¡± Jennings was chuckling at Nick¡¯s outburst. ¡°Luckily my boy, I was able to get to the betting stands in time. You just made me a great deal of money. The odds against you winning were 15 to 1. That spell you developed is brilliant, but useless. I still think you need to learn to seize the essence in a fight, as a spell of concentrated light wouldn¡¯t penetrate a more powerful essence field.¡± Nero shook his head at Jennings naivete. The concept of a laser was just too foreign to him. The man didn¡¯t understand the power that coherent light could output. A large enough laser could destroy a planet. Nero had seen it happen many times.... in movies. Nick was wringing his hands. ¡°Nero. I¡¯m sorry I didn¡¯t believe in you. I just¡­ It¡¯s just¡­ How the hell did you win? You shouldn¡¯t have been able to win. It¡¯s not that I didn¡¯t want you to win. It¡¯s just that it doesn¡¯t make any sense,¡± he said while looking completely defeated and confused. Nero felt bad for the guy. Nick had given a great goodbye speech, and he had been so worried for Nero. He had really expected Nero to die. ¡°I don¡¯t know what to tell you Nick. I¡¯m really hard to kill I guess. Try not to feel too bad, some people just lack imagination. We¡¯ll work on it,¡± Nero said while patting Nick¡¯s shoulder reassuringly. All three of them turned as the door to the conference room opened, and then watched as Vera entered with a mischievous grin on her face. Instead of greeting the trio, she completely ignored them, walking right past them to take a seat at the conference room table. She pulled out a bottle and some glasses from her personal space and started pouring drinks. As Nick, Jennings, and Nero joined her at the table, Nick said, ¡°That much huh?¡± Vera replied as she poured, ¡°As you didn¡¯t want me to place a bet for us, I used my family money. Nicholas my love, your wife was a rich woman. Now she is a VERY rich woman.¡± Nero took the wine glass he was offered, and leaned back in his chair to get comfortable. ¡°That¡¯s great that my death match worked out for you, but let''s have my proxy tell me about my life savings,¡± he said with a wry smile. Vera snorted and said, ¡°Life savings? You¡¯re not even a week old. The arena bank agreed to accept your assets and projected awards as collateral for a loan. As instructed, I placed it all on you to win. After your victory, the loan was dissolved. However, not everything went according to plan. The problem is that the arena bank doesn¡¯t currently have the funds to cover your winnings, as having that amount of liquid capital would be ridiculous. They¡¯ll have to pay you in installments, or find another way to cover the debt. I have a meeting scheduled with them.¡± Nero nodded, ¡°What kind of interest rate are you hitting them with? If they can¡¯t cover the bet, then they¡¯re essentially borrowing what they haven¡¯t paid me.¡± Vera¡¯s eyebrows shot up. ¡°That is a very good point. I¡¯ll have to see how that has been handled in the past, and if there is any precedent for you to receive interest. Perhaps you can acquire partial ownership of the arena? I¡¯ll look into it. Either way, you are now a very rich young man. I was planning to go over your finances and upcoming trials over lunch. Of course, that was before all of this happened.¡± Jennings spoke up, ¡°He¡¯ll need to get the pledge out of the way. I¡¯m sure the Cosgraves ran back to the keep the moment Nero won. I was watching the assassin team leader trying to hide his trail. It was hilarious. I¡¯m guessing that without a win, he had no way out of the city. Do you want me to take care of him along with his other former apprentice?¡± Nero looked at Jennings, who was casually offering to murder people for him. ¡°Uh¡­ Weren¡¯t they just doing their jobs? I¡¯m more interested in the assholes that started all of this. That Castle House or whatever. I understand they had some issue with me, but I didn¡¯t understand what Lord Bennings was talking about. I don¡¯t remember killing any nobles,¡± he said. Jennings coughed into his hand. ¡°That¡¯s actually my fault. I killed one of Lord Cranston¡¯s sons. He refused an order from the mage council and I executed him for it. Lord Cranston knew that I had wanted to kill his son for years, and I just used the refusal as a legal screen. In order to get back at me, and the mage council, he used that subject of that refused order as a legal screen to validate his blood grievance. Since he had a grievance against a commoner, he took advantage of the brief window that you were not a new noble to outsource the challenge. It only worked because Derek Cosgrave allowed it. He painted his mother into a corner. Since he sided with House Cranston, if she had overruled him, then she would be insulting House Cranston. Are you following any of this?¡± he asked Nero who was now picking at his nails. Nero looked up and replied, ¡°Kind of, it¡¯s weird. I seem to be able to pay attention to a lot more. It¡¯s almost like my normal ''half-listening'' is what my full listening used to be. I got the gist of it. You pissed someone off, and they struck at you through me. The Cosgrave kid is afraid of me, so he ignored his mother and she was stuck going along with it. The two people I have to retaliate against are Derek Cosgrave and that Lord Cranston guy. Right?¡± Vera, Nick, and Jennings were all looking at Nero in shock. Vera said, ¡°Well, they are the primary candidates for your revenge. But you aren¡¯t in a position to do anything to them for the moment. You¡¯ll have to bide your time.¡± Jennings nodded, ¡°You already got your revenge on House Cranston. I¡¯ve heard from the mage tower in Hennings. They¡¯ve heard that the loophole House Cranston used annoyed the king enough that he charged the director of the Tower of Law to personally make Lord Cranston pay what you¡¯re owed from winning the challenge. The assets of Lord Cranston¡¯s son at the time of his death were not insignificant,¡± he said to Nero with a smile. Nero just shrugged and said, ¡°Great.¡± Looking at Vera, Nero asked, ¡°Do I have a bank account? More importantly, do I actually have any money? Or am I just waiting for all these things to be awarded?¡± Vera smiled and said, ¡°You still don¡¯t have any money. It will be a week or two before anything is actually in your name and available for your use.¡± Nero nodded and said, ¡°Alright, then lunch is on you. I¡¯m starving and people keep refusing to bring me a sandwich. Can we go now?¡± Chapter 49 - The tools of procrastination: reflection and avoidance. General Branson had asked Rose to stick close to him. He had said that he wanted to talk to her, making it sound like an opportunity she couldn¡¯t ignore, and she had agreed. Now she was regretting that choice. Uncomfortable situations like this were why she preferred the wilds over cities. Rose had followed the general to the city lord¡¯s private arena room. She was doing her best to ignore the nobles in the room as she looked out through the floor to ceiling windows. ''At least the view is nice,'' she thought. She felt a presence approaching, and she turned slightly to see who it was. She saw the general smile out of the corner of her eye. ¡°Good situational awareness,¡± the general said as a greeting. Handing Rose a glass of wine, he said, ¡°Thank you for your patience. I¡¯m well aware of how uncomfortable you are. Your psyche is practically screaming. If you¡¯re wondering why everyone is avoiding you, that¡¯s why.¡± He gave her a smile and seemed to radiate a calming aura. Rose sipped her wine and nodded. It hadn¡¯t occurred to her, but she wasn¡¯t surprised. ¡°Are you going to tell me what you wanted?¡± Rose said, then quickly corrected herself, ¡°I mean, what can I do for you, sir?¡± The general looked out over the arena. Rose watched him pick his words with care. ¡°I try to look out for people who choose to see what others ignore,¡± he said in a quiet voice. Rose looked around the room, and realized that there was no one nearby. She matched the general¡¯s quiet tone and turned to follow his gaze into the arena. ¡°You think the kid is going to win too, don¡¯t you,¡± she said. Nodding, the general said, ¡°I¡¯ve been following the reports concerning him since he predicted the Noble War. It¡¯s been three days, and he¡¯s already being raised to nobility, trained by the head of the mage council, and nearly adopted by a couple of departmental heads with ties to some very powerful houses. That ''boy'' killed 5 mercenaries on his own during the war. One of whom had an estimated level in the 30¡¯s. Yes, the young man will win. But most people refuse to see that. Yet, when you met him, you saw what others did not.¡± Rose felt a very unfamiliar feeling rise in her chest. She knew it was pride, but she felt it so rarely that it felt weird. Unused to such positive reinforcement, she blurted out, ¡°It wasn¡¯t that hard. I mean, I just thought that he didn¡¯t look scared. He looked hungry for battle. I¡¯ve seen animals and monsters like that in the wilds, and it¡¯s always a good idea to avoid them. I was just avoiding a predator.¡± Chuckling, the general replied, ¡°A predator? That¡¯s one way to describe Nero Walker. He is brash, and self centered. He knows what he wants, and he does whatever it takes to go after it. His arrival in Dorchester has caused a lot of changes in a short amount of time.¡± Rose said, ¡°OK, but none of that has anything to do with me.¡± Turning his head to look at Rose, the general said, ¡°I¡¯d like to offer you the option of entering a training camp for elite monster hunters. It will be located in Gate 15 and will help you on your path as a hunter. Squads of elites will be sent out on excursions into the wilds. Sometimes they will stay out there for up to a month. It¡¯s dangerous, and the training will be intense. I think you¡¯ll do well there." Caught off guard by the general¡¯s subject change, she stuttered, ¡°Um¡­ that¡¯s¡­ Don¡¯t elite hunters have to spend time on monster elimination squads before they can be an elite hunter? Do we even have elite hunters in Dorchester, aren''t they only in the bigger cities? And how does me recognizing the obvious danger I was heading toward merit an invite?¡± The general replied, ¡°Hold that thought, it¡¯s starting.¡± The nobles in the room all gathered at the windows overlooking the arena, and Rose cautiously looked around at the curious faces. In the middle of the stadium, she could see the giant projection of the center arena. Seeing Caleb¡¯s face smiling in anticipation of the fight, she felt a pang in her chest. He wasn¡¯t a bad guy, it was a shame that he was going to die. She¡¯d known him for years, and they had gotten along well enough. The fight was so short that the nobles were all paralyzed in shock. Rose looked up to to see the general chuckling. He turned and said over his shoulder, ¡°Come along Rose, we¡¯re done here.¡± Rose hurried to follow, cold sweat beading on her back. ¡°What the hell was that? How did he do that?¡± she hissed. General Branson said, ¡°I don¡¯t know. That¡¯s why I want you in the training program.¡± Rose''s steps faltered, her mind trying to see the connection. ¡°I don¡¯t get it,¡± she said. As the general led her down the halls, away from the noble¡¯s private boxes, he said, ¡°I want someone there who is capable of seeing through Lord Walker¡¯s facade. Too many people see him and think he is an idiot. I want someone to report facts, not interpretations.¡± ¡°He¡¯s going to be in the program too?¡± she asked in disbelief. The general smiled and said, ¡°He will. He just doesn¡¯t know it yet.¡± ----- Nero was finally heading back to the dorms. It had been a long day already. He was looking forward to a nap. Unfortunately, he still had a meeting with Mrs. Salvatore at the end of the day. She had told Nero that there were a lot of things she needed to talk with him about, but she was too busy during the day. After they had left the arena, Nick and Jennings had taken Nero to a fancy late lunch while Mrs. Salvatore had taken off to go deal with paperwork or something. Nero knew he should have paid more attention, considering that she was currently acting as his proxy, but he just couldn¡¯t bring himself to care. The restaurant Nick chose was a white stone building that had a rooftop dining area overlooking the city. The portions were too small, and the atmosphere was too stuffy. Rather than complain about it, Nero had spent the entire time trying to get Jennings to give him the secrets of magic. It was difficult, because Jennings said he didn¡¯t want to color Nero¡¯s preconceptions of what magic was capable of. As Nero walked up the steps of the Center, he reaffirmed how different people were in this part of the city. The polite atmosphere and considerate populous was exclusive to the Center. ¡®Maybe it¡¯s like church. Everyone is polite at church,¡¯ he thought. Making his way through the crowds, he entered the dorms and immediately felt Ms. Averett staring at him. Proud that he recognized her psychic signature, Nero returned her glare with a smile. She walked out from behind the desk, and made a bee-line straight for Nero. He kept walking toward the hallway for the dorms. He figured she¡¯d catch up to him if she really wanted. Soon enough, she did. Even knowing that she was coming, the woman still managed to make Nero jump when she appeared in front of him. ''Damn, she''s fast,'' he thought sourly. ¡°So it appears that you are now nobility?¡± she said as she crossed her arms. Nero smiled at how little she seemed to care about his supposed nobility. ¡°I guess so. I¡¯m just coming back from the arena. I know I haven¡¯t had the chance to attend any combat classes, but rest assured, I¡¯m taking my self-defense seriously,¡± he said. From what Nero knew of her, that was all she cared about. Nodding, she said, ¡°Yes, I saw your fight. You just stood there and let him hit you. Are you an idiot? If he had essence infused his blades, you¡¯d be dead. Where would your smirk be then?¡± Nero¡¯s eyes widened. He didn¡¯t know what essence infused blades were, but that sounded bad. ¡°Um¡­ I was using my mage-armor. I was perfectly safe. You know I won right?¡± he said. Eyes hard, she huffed. ¡°Yes, I know you won. But how you win is just as important as winning. Perfection in combat is the goal, and when you take stupid risks, you increase the chances of losing the next fight. An essence shield is a just a tool, it¡¯s not impenetrable,¡± she said through pursed lips. Nero said, ¡°I know there is a lot that I don¡¯t know. I did the best I could with what I had available. Don¡¯t worry, I¡¯ll be more careful in the future.¡± The narrative has been taken without permission. Report any sightings. ¡°Are you going to be staying in the dorms? I¡¯ve heard that you acquired an estate.¡± she asked. Nero shrugged, ¡°Honestly, I have no idea. Mrs. Salvatore is going to be in charge of all that I think. I¡¯ll find out tonight. I have a meeting in her office at 22:00. For now, I was going to have a nap.¡± Ms. Averett gave Nero a blank stare as she repeated slowly, ¡°A nap.¡± Nero saw as a vein in her forehead start to appear. ¡®Danger! Abort!¡¯ he shouted to himself in his head. Before she could say anything, he blurted out, ¡°I just had a fight to the death, and I spent all morning in combat training with an arch-mage. I¡¯m beat. I don¡¯t want to be walking around without a full center and with weak legs. Now that I¡¯m a noble, there is danger everywhere.¡± Thankfully, the vein disappeared, and she replied, ¡°That¡¯s good thinking. I¡¯ll contact Mrs. Salvatore and find out what she has planned. You have too much potential to be wasting it with noble nonsense. You should be out fighting monsters and using your talents. That was a good spell work you showed in the arena. It was a good fight.¡± With a final nod, she walked away without another word. Nero wiped the sweat from his palms on his robes and gave a deep exhale to relieve the tension. ¡®That woman is a menace. Maybe staying at a mansion would be nice. She won¡¯t follow me there, will she?¡¯ worried Nero. Back in his room, Nero tossed his satchel on the desk and threw his boots near the door. Laying down on his bed, he reached out to his link that he now kept in his pocket. Setting an alarm, he put his arms behind his head and took a look at his identity.
Name Nero Walker Level 7
Race Human Growth 2%
Tier 1 Condition 100%
Age 14 Center 37%
Body 1 Mind 4
Soul 1 Confluence 10
Stars 0 Pillars 0/0
Even after a good meal and some downtime, he still only had 37% left in his center. No wonder he felt so tired. He was also going to have to spend some time reflecting on the events of the day, or he wouldn¡¯t grow. Huffing, he decided that he didn¡¯t feel like it. He¡¯d just grab a nap and deal with it later. Five minutes later, Nero couldn¡¯t stop his mind from going over his ridiculous morning. Nick and Jennings both knew that Nero had memories from another world, and they didn¡¯t care. Jennings was a super mage who went around killing people who pissed him off. Nick was a noble, but also wasn¡¯t. Mrs. Salvatore was capable of intimidating everyone, but that wasn¡¯t surprising. Someone had tried to assassinate him. That thought forced Nero¡¯s mental process to a halt. This world was dangerous. He knew that, but it hadn¡¯t really sunk in. The government had procedures on how to legally assassinate someone. It wasn''t much of a comfort that they, at least, seemed to focus on fairness. Nero was confident that he could win a fight with someone who couldn¡¯t cast magic, or didn¡¯t have abilities. But how long would that last? He was already level 7. If they had tried to kill him when he was level 9, they could have sent someone with a pillar. What effects do essence shields have on abilities? Would he be dead now? In the quiet of his room, with the lights off and the curtains drawn, Nero contemplated how close he he had come to actually dying. He was flying by the seat of his pants, and too much was out of his control. Thinking back to the night of the Noble War, Nero remembered wanting to be the main character of his story. Well, his wish had come true. Someone hired a kid to kill him. Nero remembered the look in the guy¡¯s eyes as the lights went out. Nero couldn¡¯t ignore it anymore. ¡®I killed him. I looked him in the eyes and took his life,¡¯ he thought to himself. Looking up at the ceiling, Nero felt his eyes start to water. When he realized that he was feeling shame and fear, his anger sparked like a match. ¡®Fuck that,¡¯ he told himself. The assassin whose name Nero never bothered to learn was just that, an assassin. They could call it a legal challenge, or a blood grievance, but it didn¡¯t change the fact that the guy had tried to kill him. Nero wasn¡¯t going to feel bad about it. In fact, he¡¯d be starting a list. This world was full of adventure, and heroes, maybe even anti-heroes, and he had enemies. Derek Cosgrave and Lord Cranston were now his enemies. Feeling motivated, Nero stared at the ceiling and made plans. He would start by participating in the creation of his training schedule. He had a lot to learn, and choosing what he learned was not something he would leave up to others. Also, in any world, finances were important. He needed to get hold of his account statements or whatever. ¡®Mrs. Salvatore was right, we have a lot to talk about,¡¯ he told himself. With a grunt, Nero got up from his bed and threw open the curtains. This world had a 30 hour day, and he wouldn¡¯t get anywhere if he wasted the extra hours sleeping. Nero went to the bathroom to splash some water on his face and wake himself up. Sitting at his desk, Nero started making a list of questions he needed answered. As he listed his questions, he noticed that more and more of them were questions about magic. Pausing, Nero tapped his pen on the desk and looked at his satchel. There were answers in there. He had time to do this list later. His meeting wasn¡¯t for a while. Studying was productive. He should do that instead. Putting aside his real world concerns, Nero smiled as he pulled out real books of magic. Just because he had to rest his center, didn¡¯t mean that he couldn''t read about casting. Deciding that ¡®Controlling the world around you¡¯ was the book of the day, Nero leaned back in his chair and started reading. Time passed, and Nero was engrossed in his book. It was a very abstract book about how essence made up the world. Matter was nothing but solidified essence. The flows of essence were potential. Casting spells using your center was giving that potential a purpose. A mage acted as a conduit, changing potential into reality. Whoever controlled the essence, controlled its potential. Nero read about how essence was created by matter and actions. Wind moving through a valley would cause potential to bloom into existence. Animals in the area would passively absorb that essence and develop an affinity for wind manipulation. Since the types of essence were incalculable, the types of animals and environments were constantly changing. Sometimes essence would get trapped, and that potential would spawn monsters, or in rare cases, dungeons. The world¡¯s essence cycle was fascinating to Nero. Every being on the planet that had a will could influence the potential in the air. As people grew, their potential would form pillars. Pillars were based on how a person lived and viewed the world. Everything was perception. A person who spent all his time concerned with cleanliness, could have the option to gain a pillar of that type. Nero didn¡¯t understand a lot of what he read, but the general ideas were extremely interesting. He was so engrossed in his book, Nero wasn¡¯t prepared for his alarm to go off. Jumping to his feet, Nero knocked over his chair and barely caught his book. Heart beating wildly, he looked around the room for the danger. Realizing what the omnipresent ringing was, Nero mentally turned off the alarm and set his book on the desk. Catching his breath, he held a hand to his chest and forced himself to calm down. Looking at the papers on the desk with the unfinished questions for Mrs. Salvatore, Nero realized he had just wasted the past few hours. None of what he had read had any practical applications in the near future. His immediate concerns were supposed to be about how to get through this noble crap without dying, how to pay for food, and what the hell he was going to do with his life. Standing up, Nero put his hands on his hips and gave a rueful chuckle. Opening his identity:
Name Nero Walker Level 7
Race Human Growth 18%
Tier 1 Condition 100%
Age 14 Center 96%
Body 1 Mind 4
Soul 1 Confluence 10
Stars 0 Pillars 0/0
¡®Well, at least my center is nearly full. And I grew a little,¡¯ he thought. Then he headed to the bathroom to freshen up. In no time at all, Nero was ready to go. Although he tried to convince himself that he didn¡¯t need his books, he took them anyway. Heading out of his dorm room, Nero tried to focus on the upcoming meeting. Going over the possible topics of conversation and what he needed to know, a stray thought popped into his head. ¡®Wasn¡¯t there something about noble trials that seemed important? And do I still have to pledge to the Cosgraves after they just stood by and let someone try and kill me?¡¯ Nero rubbed his chin as he passed the few people that were up and about. There really was a lot he had to talk to Mrs. Salvatore about. Chapter 50 - Cash poor millionaire needs bus fare, please help. Lord Cosgrave was standing at the window in her office. The view overlooked the courtyard and the afternoon light caused shadows to dance in the gardens. She watched one of the keep¡¯s gardeners run his hands over some flowers. The soft green glow from his ability spread out like a fog. Taking a sip of her wine, she thought about what trials the man had faced in his life. How long had it taken him to master his craft? How many disappointments had he overcome? Her daughter¡¯s voice brought her out of her reverie. ¡°Was there really no other choice?¡± Deidre asked quietly. Lord Cosgrave turned to look at her daughter. She was sitting in her usual chair in front of the desk. The other chair, the one Derek usually used, was empty. ¡°No. Derek could not stay in Dorchester. Not after what he did,¡± Lord Cosgrave said with ice in her voice. ¡°He didn¡¯t really do anything though. All he did was not stand in the way of another house¡¯s game. Could he really be blamed for that?¡± Deidre asked. With a snort, Lord Cosgrave sat down in her high-backed chair. ¡°He waived our house''s protection of a new noble. Whether it was legal or not, he took a side. He left me with no options. Putting aside that he forced policy that I had to follow, if he stayed here, his life would be in danger,¡± she said. ¡°Nero Walker can¡¯t do anything to Derek. It will be years before he finishes the trials and is formalized as a Lord. Right now, he is a Lord in name only. He can¡¯t offer challenges, or declare a Noble War. We have nothing to fear from him,¡± Deidre said with venom. Lord Cosgrave¡¯s eyebrows rose as she saw her daughter¡¯s anger. ¡°Daughter, don¡¯t repeat your brother¡¯s mistakes. Learn from them instead. Your anger at Lord Walker is irrational. Why make him your enemy?¡± she asked. To her credit, Deidre took a moment to think. Unfortunately, she didn¡¯t seem to grasp what Lord Cosgrave was trying to tell her. ¡°Walker is already set against us. Derek¡¯s actions have put us at odds. All we can do now is to play the game that is in motion. We are in the more powerful position, letting him grow without opposition is a poor plan. There is much we can do to stunt his rise. Economic warfare against his new interests, limiting his training options, assigning busy work to his house in order to eat into his time. All of these options are legal, and can be subtly used to limit him,¡± Deidre said. Shaking her head in exasperation, Lord Cosgrave leaned forward and folded her hands on the desk as if she were praying for strength. ¡°Listen closely. Nero Walker isn¡¯t my concern right now. The people around him are. The head of the mage council is currently in Dorchester playing at being our court mage. The man is only here because he finds Walker interesting. The last thing I want to do is give that man a reason to stand against us. We¡¯re going to have enough trouble with Vera Salvatore. That woman is smart, and worse yet, capable. I¡¯ve looked into her since finding out that she had ties to the Pendletons. She will be a thorn in our foot if we stand against House Walker. Derek had to be sent away because he was a lightning rod. With him here, conflict would be inevitable. Conflict we won¡¯t win. Every time that boy speaks, he invites disaster. Instead of a powerful ally, we now have a house with an uncertain future growing right next to us. A house that has the backing of the royals, the mage council, and even has local backing from House Salvatore. Do you understand what I¡¯m telling you?¡± she asked. Deidre frowned in thought. Finally breaking she hissed, ¡°But we have to do something! We have to respond in kind.¡± Lord Cosgrave had enough, essence swirled as she stood up to loom over her desk. The room rattled as she roared, ¡°You are not listening! House Walker didn¡¯t do anything but survive an idiotic assassination attempt made by your idiotic brother. If you choose to follow his example and do something equally idiotic, I won¡¯t just send you away. I will kill you myself. I am the head of House Cosgrave, and I won¡¯t have my house¡¯s path guided by children who refuse to listen. If you want to act, it will not be under my banner. You can join your brother in starting a new house. Am I understood?¡± Deidre had paled and was holding her armrests with white knuckles. ¡°Yes mother, I understand. I will not do anything stupid. I swear,¡± she gasped out. ¡°Now go, I have been putting off a ping with the arena masters. They say the matter is urgent and I¡¯ve put it off long enough. Getting your brother to understand why he¡¯s leaving and trying to organize a caravan for him to join has taken enough of my day. Try to not cause any more problems for me to deal with,¡± Lord Cosgrave said as she returned to her seat and gestured for her daughter to get out. As she watched her daughter scurry out of the office, Lord Cosgrave leaned back in her chair and took a sip of wine. Closing her eyes, she tried to put the entire matter out of her mind. She needed to focus. Nero Walker and the repercussions of today¡¯s events were for tomorrow. Now she had to address the concerns of her city. Using her link, she looked up the urgent message and sent out a connection request. The arena master accepted the connection quickly, and Lord Cosgrave could feel their concern over the link. ¡°My apologies for the delay in getting back to you. What seems to be the problem?¡± she asked while trying to project calm. ¡°We were trying to reach you because our bank is overdrawn. There was an upset today in the arena, I¡¯m sure you¡¯ve heard about it. Our bank accepted a bet that it probably shouldn¡¯t have. The manager said they were offered a collateral loan, but the person bet it all on a 15 to 1 long shot. There were several other large bets that were placed on the same match. The total lost by the arena is more than our bank has. Typically we¡¯d just take a loan ourselves to cover it, but the amounts are staggering. We¡¯re not sure what to do, and as the arenas are city property, we decided to call you personally. We don¡¯t want this getting out, we¡¯re hoping you have some ideas,¡± the arena master said nervously. Sighing in annoyance, she said, ¡®How much do you owe, and to whom do you owe it?¡¯ The arena master promptly replied, ¡®We covered all the bets but the major one. We owe House Walker approximately 560 million common valens.¡¯ If you encounter this narrative on Amazon, note that it''s taken without the author''s consent. Report it. Lord Cosgrave felt like she had just been hit in the gut with a hammer. ¡®What the hell did he use as collateral to place the bet?¡¯ she shouted. ¡®His proxy used the statement of award from Lord Walker¡¯s victory in the Noble War. It was notarized by the Tower of Law. His proxy accepted 50% of it¡¯s value as the loan. They used the loan to make the bet. The manager thought it was easy money. But, it paid out at 15 to 1, so they are owed 558,434,867 common valens,¡¯ the arena master said with fear palpable in his psyche. With a scowl on her face, Lord Cosgrave growled, ¡°Vera. Fucking. Salvatore.¡± ----- Nero walked into Vera Salvatore¡¯s office and took a seat in front of her desk. He assumed that she was on a ping, because her temple was lit up. Not wanting to interrupt her, he looked around. Seeing the wet bar, he went to get a coffee. Not seeing any, he settled on a glass of water. Returning to his seat, Nero couldn¡¯t help but feel a little uncomfortable. Normally, when someone is on the phone, you could at least hear their half of the conversation. But, since pings were all mental, Nero had to just sit there and watch Mrs. Salvatore look through some papers then occasionally stare off in the distance. The silence was just freaky. Tapping his fingers on his chair, Nero debated whether or not to pull out a book. ¡°Thank you for being on time Nero,¡± she said out of nowhere. Nero was a little startled, but recovered quickly. ¡°No problem. I¡¯m ready to talk about all the stuff I¡¯ve been avoiding. I¡¯m sure you have a list, so let¡¯s go,¡± he said as he rubbed his hands together. With a smile, Vera shuffled some papers and got her desk in order. ¡°Alright Nero. Let¡¯s start with matters pertaining to your nobility. I¡¯ve scheduled your pledge for tomorrow morning at 8, do you remember how to get to the keep?¡± she asked. Nero nodded, ¡°Yup, and the link can give directions. But I can¡¯t pay for the teleport. I don¡¯t have a bank account, at least not one I know about.¡± Vera nodded, and shuffled some papers. ¡°I opened several accounts for House Walker. I was going to get to those later, but we can address that now. As you might remember, you acquired a shipping concern from your victory in the Noble War. I have already incorporated that interest into my company ¡®Precision Shipping¡¯. You told me to take care of it, and this is how I¡¯m doing it. House Walker essentially bought into my company. House Walker now has a 40% ownership stake. Dividends will be awarded monthly. As they are calculated based on our monthly profits, you won¡¯t see a payout until the end of the month. You have an account with Dorchester¡¯s city bank for when that happens,¡± she said. Flipping a page on her desk, she continued, ¡°The monetary winnings from your noble war should be calculated and deposited within 2 weeks. You have a separate account for that.¡± Another page was flipped. ¡°I set up a household account to pay your servants and people who will work for you at your estate. That account will be filled temporarily with money you borrowed from Nicholas and me. Don¡¯t touch that account. When your payouts come in, I¡¯ll repay the loan, and set up automatic deposits from your income,¡± she said with a stern tone. Flipping another page, she said, ¡°Finally I set up a personal account for your daily expenditures. I¡¯ll send you the information through the link. You can sign in using your soul signature. Now, do you have any questions?¡± Nero was focused, and made sure to follow everything she was saying. ¡°How much interest are you charging me? What¡¯s my projected income, and will it cover my household costs? How much am I expected to receive from the Tower of Law for my noble war victory? And finally, you didn¡¯t mention my arena winnings. Exactly how many valens do I have coming to me?¡± he asked with an intense stare. Vera¡¯s smile was glowing with pride. ¡°All good questions. Well done. I¡¯m not charging interest for the loan. The money will only be borrowed for a couple of weeks. Your projected income will be roughly 85,000 valens monthly from ¡®Precision Shipping¡¯. The company is managed well, and has many contracts constantly being handled both inside Dorchester, and between cities. The management doesn¡¯t foresee any issues with absorbing Dorchen¡¯s concerns. Dorchen¡¯s management team understood their position and didn¡¯t hinder the acquisition. They were visited by the Populators several days ago, as they had an illegal division participating in smuggling. That division was eliminated, and the remaining employees are very keen on not making waves,¡± she said. Nero interrupted and said, ¡°85 grand a month? I don¡¯t know the buying power of a valen, but that seems like a lot.¡± Vera nodded, ¡°It is a lot. Over the past 30 years, I¡¯ve built a large network across all of Dorchester. With the acquisition of ¡®Dorchen Shipping¡¯, we¡¯ll control around 65% of all Dorchester¡¯s domestic and foreign trade,¡± she said with pride. Nero couldn¡¯t help but ask, ¡°I thought you ran Center Intake?¡± Vera looked confused, ¡°I do. I don¡¯t really run the company, I just own it and set policy. Occasionally I participate in deals and I check to see if my management team is doing well. Intake is my passion, but I knew I wasn¡¯t going to stay there forever. I just liked having a place near Nicholas¡¯ work. Research is his passion, and Intake lets me help people in my own way.¡± Nero nodded. Rich people with hobby jobs in community service. He shouldn¡¯t have been surprised. He asked, ¡°And you¡¯re OK with me owning part of your company?¡± She replied, ¡°Of course. You have no say, so you can¡¯t screw anything up. You allowed me to almost double my control of Dorchester¡¯s shipping. It¡¯s a win for both of us. Plus, once your nobility is confirmed, profits will soar with our tax breaks. But enough of that, let¡¯s get back to it.¡± Nero refocused and said, ¡°Right. So I¡¯m guessing that will cover the household, I can¡¯t imagine it costing that much to pay a few gardeners and a maid. What about the arena winnings?¡± Vera gave Nero an amused smile, and said, ¡°I¡¯m afraid the estate you won is a bit larger than your imagining. It has a live-in staff of 40, 100 guards, and 50 miscellaneous employees. Your income won¡¯t cover your expenses if you plan to keep them all.¡± Nero shouted, ¡°What? How big is the place, and how the hell am I going to pay them? Do I have any other sources of income?¡± Vera smiled, ¡°You will be getting 18 million valens from the Tower of Law in a few weeks. That is 20% of what the Dorchen¡¯s kept liquid. The estate auction should account for another 10 million, but I wouldn¡¯t count on that. As for other sources of income, you¡¯ll just have to get a job. Or cut expenditures to fit your income.¡± Nero rubbed his chin in thought. This was a lot of money. 20% of the Dorchen fortune was apparently a lot of money. Nero paled as he realized that he had bet it all on his winning in the arena. Looking up at Mrs. Salvatore, he noticed her smirk. She was waiting for him to come to this realization. ¡°How much did I win in the arena?¡± he asked softly. If he was able to bet it all on winning, and he got good odds, he must be looking at a serious payout. ¡°Almost 560 million. After paying out Arch-mage Jennings and myself, they can¡¯t cover the bet. I¡¯m having a meeting with them tomorrow. Don¡¯t worry, I¡¯ll get you every valen, and charge them through the nose with interest if they decide to take their time,¡± she said with an evil smile. Nero was shocked, but quickly got himself under control. ¡°That¡¯s amazing. But I still can¡¯t afford to get to the keep tomorrow,¡± he said with a grin. Chapter 51 - Behind every man is a mother saying he needs to be careful. It was after dinner, and Sergeant Blackwood was annoyed. He should be at a bar trying to get laid, or anywhere that wasn¡¯t here. The city wasn¡¯t in danger, and there was no reason for him to be here. Whatever it was, it could wait for the morning. Blackwood tapped his fingers on his chair as he looked around the waiting room. The large room had paintings of battles, and weapons on plaques. It was exactly what he expected a general would have tried to use to intimidate his visitors. Glancing at Captain Angelton, who was sitting next to him, Blackwood saw that the man was meditating. Of course he was, the man would train in a snowstorm. The general¡¯s aides were both sitting at their desks, flanking the wide doors to the general¡¯s office. They looked harried, but Blackwood could tell it was busy work. Their psychic auras were not stressed at all. Deciding that he was not going to wait in silence any longer, he elbowed the captain and asked, ¡°Why are we here?¡± Captain Angelton opened his eyes and gave Blackwood that cold stare of his. ¡°You know as much as I do. We were requested to be here by command, so we¡¯re here. Don¡¯t ask questions you know the answers to,¡± he said. Blackwood grimaced, ¡°You must have some idea as to why he wanted to see us. Take a guess.¡± The captain grunted, and replied, ¡°Guessing is pointless. It could be anything. Just wait patiently, I¡¯m sure the general will be here soon.¡± Before Blackwood could respond with what was sure to be some scathing retort, the outer doors opened and in walked General Branson along with a young girl and two Hunter-Captains. General Branson saw the two of them waiting but kept up his stride toward his office as he said, ¡°Good, you¡¯re here. Come inside and let¡¯s have a chat.¡± Blackwood shared a look with the captain and they followed the group into the general''s office. The general took a seat at a conference table off to the side of the large room and gestured for everyone to sit down. Once everyone was seated, he said, ¡°All right. So rather than ask you individually how much you are aware of, I¡¯m just going to tell you all what¡¯s going on. ¡°First, after the Populators decimated the mercenary army outside our walls, essence knots and spawn points are showing up all over the place. Two former estates are now teeming with monsters, and the animals in the wilds to the east of the city are mutating at an alarming rate. ¡°Second, we are starting up elite monster hunting teams again. Monster hunting squads are being retasked, and new training programs are being initiated. The environment is a perfect whetstone for the elite teams to hone their skills. ¡°Third, there is a new noble, named Nero Walker, in Dorchester. He just fought an assassination challenge and didn¡¯t break a sweat. His situation is unique. He¡¯ll need training, but he is already dangerous. I want to foster his strength, but I also want to keep an eye on him. Some of you already know him. But for those who don¡¯t, I¡¯ll be sending you everything I have on him. ¡°Fourth and finally, a preliminary warning was sent out by a division of the Research Center in Gate 7. The warning stated that there is a very real possibility of a monster wave being accelerated by the events of the past few days. They don¡¯t know much yet, but they¡¯re working on it. The faster we clear out the spawn points, the better it is for everyone.¡± Looking around the table, the general saw a lot of grim faces, and one confused one. Smiling at Rose, he said, ¡°This is Rose Vikander. She has been trained as a hunter, and she¡¯ll be on whatever training team our new noble is assigned to.¡± Turning to his left, he said, ¡°Captain Angelton, and Sergeant Blackwood. You¡¯re being reassigned. Both of you have served on monster elimination squads before, and you both know Lord Walker. You¡¯ll be on his team too.¡± Turning to his right, the general addressed the two hunters, ¡°Sergeant¡¯s Jackson and Peyton, you¡¯ll also be trainers for the squad. You¡¯ll have a total of 20 cadets. Break them up however you want, but I want Rose and Lord Walker in the same squad. The Captain has command, Blackwood is his aide, and you are the trainers. Look through what I sent you, and fill out the remaining positions. Questions?¡± Rose just sat in silence, looking around like she didn¡¯t know how to feel about what was happening. The Captain and the hunters just nodded. Blackwood however, was not happy. He didn¡¯t want to spend months in the woods. He had hated every minute of serving on the monster squads. Tentatively raising his hand, Blackwood said, ¡°Sir, I have some questions.¡± Leaning back in his chair, the general folded his hands on his stomach, ¡°Go ahead, ask them.¡± Clearing his throat, Blackwood said, ¡°Why all this trouble for the kid? Why is a new noble going monster hunting anyway? Who is she?¡± he pointed his thumb at Rose, then finished, ¡°And why am I here?¡± With a smirk, the general said, ¡°Read your information packet. You¡¯re all dismissed. Not you, Rose. Let¡¯s get you set up with a room at command. You¡¯ve got a busy couple of days ahead of you.¡± Standing up, the general caused everyone else in the room to shoot to their feet out of reflex. He offered a final smile and led Rose out of the room. As the hunters exchanged grim looks, Captain Angelton opened his link to review the files they had been sent. Blackwood just sat back down in his chair and muttered, ¡°Why the hell am I here?¡± ----- Nero refilled his water as he listened to Mrs. Salvatore. ¡°I¡¯ll lend you a thousand valens for your personal account. As your proxy, I¡¯ll pay myself back from your main accounts when they receive payment,¡± she said. Nero nodded, and instead of Mrs. Salvatore moving on to another topic, she paused. Her eyes scrunched and she seemed to be deep in thought. Nero took a sip of his water, and wondered what had caused the lull in conversation. Unauthorized use of content: if you find this story on Amazon, report the violation. ¡°I think it¡¯s time I formally resign from my position as the director of Center-Intake,¡± she said with finality. She seemed to firm her shoulders and take on an air of determination. Surprised at the change of subject, Nero responded, ¡°Why? Didn¡¯t you say this was your ''passion'' or whatever?¡± Giving Nero a look of annoyance, she responded, ¡°Yes, I like working here. However, as a proxy to a noble house, I¡¯ll be too busy. As it is, I¡¯ve been neglecting my duties since I¡¯ve met you. You are a full time job. And I''ve always planned to focus on running a noble house, though I thought it would be my husband''s. But, you have a lot to learn before you can run a house on your own. For the time being, I¡¯ll be focusing on helping you and Nick complete your trials and founding your houses. I think it¡¯s for the best.¡± ¡°If that¡¯s what you think is best, I¡¯ll just say ¡®thank you¡¯ and shut up,¡± Nero replied easily. ¡°That¡¯s one of the things I like about you, Nero. You don¡¯t pretend to know what you don¡¯t know. I will help you become a powerful noble, because you¡¯ll listen. The most dangerous thing in the world is pride, so make sure to keep yours in check. You¡¯ve had some successes, but don¡¯t let them go to your head,¡± she warned. Chuckling, Nero replied, ¡°I¡¯m well aware that I¡¯ve survived by luck and stubbornness.¡± With a nervous but sincere look, Nero forced out, ¡°Mrs. Salvatore, if it weren¡¯t for you and Nick, I wouldn¡¯t be here right now. I¡¯ll make you proud.¡± Nero felt a little uncomfortable. He wasn¡¯t comfortable with serious conversations, and wanted to change the subject. Noticing Nero¡¯s twitching, she smiled and said, ¡°I¡¯m sure you will. From now on, please call me Vera. Now I¡¯ve decided to go with you tomorrow morning for the pledge. It was a mistake to think you should go alone. They¡¯ll address your trials, and you don¡¯t know enough about them to make any informed decisions.¡± Nero nodded, ¡°Alright, I¡¯ll meet you on the Center steps at 7?¡± Vera made a note on the pad on her desk. ¡°That will give us plenty of time to make it to the keep. Make sure you wear the robes Nick brought you for last night¡¯s dinner. You can change the colors, and make sure you give them a light essence wash. You don¡¯t have any house colors, so I recommend a neutral gray. It won¡¯t align you with anyone, and the last thing we want is a misunderstanding.¡± Nero was confused. ¡°What do you mean change the colors? And can I just use one of the household spells to clean them? Aren¡¯t they like enchanted or something?¡± Amused, Vera replied, ¡°You just connect with them and ask them for a different color scheme. Very similar to the link. They have been enchanted with a rudimentary identity. As for cleaning, a simple spell like this will work. I¡¯m sure you¡¯ve read about them.¡± As she finished speaking, Nero saw her carve a spell-form above her hand and direct a flow of several essences to her own robes. Up until now, he¡¯d avoided using spells that he didn¡¯t fully understand. However, he knew that eventually he¡¯d have to rely on more complicated spell-forms for casting. Standing up, Nero asked her to hold the form so he could look at it. Vera raised her eyebrows but did as Nero requested. Concentrating, Nero looked over the different sections of the spell-form. Deciding that he had it correctly memorized, he slowly copied it into his own hand. Vera watched as Nero carved the spell-form with his center. As it drew in essence, he directed it and the thin white fog rolled over his robes. Looking over his robes, Nero gave a nod of success and returned to his seat. ¡°Did you just learn that spell now? Have you never seen a cleaning spell before?¡± she asked in interest. ¡°Kind of. My book on household spells had a purging spell for dishes. That was kind of similar, but your spell had a lot of other inputs I didn¡¯t recognize. I just copied what they looked like and let the spell-form collect what it needed,¡± Nero said as though it wasn¡¯t a big deal. Shaking her head in exasperation, ¡°You really aren¡¯t a typical mage, you are aware of that, right?¡± Shrugging, Nero replied, ¡°I wouldn¡¯t know. And, to be honest, I don¡¯t really care. Anyway, let¡¯s get some sleep, we have a lot to get done tomorrow.¡± Vera agreed with the sentiment, and collected her things. Nero stood up and started playing with his new spell. Vera just let out a huff of annoyance and soon forced him out of her office. They walked back to the courtyard together, the entire time Vera was trying to pack in as much information as she could about what Nero should expect in the morning. All too soon, they were at the courtyard where their paths would diverge. Nero offered her a polite wave and wished her ¡®goodnight¡¯. With a nod and smile at his awkwardness while ending conversations, she walked off. Nero still wasn¡¯t used to their only offering a nod in lieu of a ¡®goodbye¡¯, and walked back to his dorm room annoyed with the situation. He was soon showered and ready for bed. After making sure to set his alarm and lay out his clothes for the morning, Nero found himself staring at the ceiling again. As he laid in bed, he connected to his link which was sitting on his desk. He went over the paperwork that Vera had sent for his accounts, and connected easily to each of them. Nero marveled at how the kingdom had set up their banking system. It only took a thought to bring up his account information. Since they used his unique soul signature as a login, the entire procedure was effortless. Laying in bed, with his arms above his head, Nero felt like he was finally getting a handle on his new life. He could cast magic, now he had money, and tomorrow he¡¯d finalize what he had to look forward to. Not to mention, the trials seemed like they could be considered a job, so he could consider himself employed. Making plans, he made a mental note that he had to visit his ¡®estate¡¯ and deal with the employees he didn¡¯t know anything about. The amount of money involved with his future decisions was a little daunting, but he thought he could handle it. ¡®If I can fight off assassins and mercenaries, I can fire some people if I have to,¡¯ Nero thought to himself. Deciding that he was just avoiding sleep, he checked his identity.
Name Nero Walker Level 7
Race Human Growth 27%
Tier 1 Condition 100%
Age 14 Center 92%
Body 1 Mind 4
Soul 1 Confluence 10
Stars 0 Pillars 0/0
Nero noticed that today was the first day he hadn¡¯t leveled. It seemed he finally started to slow down a little. Maybe he just didn¡¯t reflect enough on the recent events. Either way, he was too tired to think about it. Realizing that he still was holding his mage-armor active, Nero was surprised that his center was so high. ¡®Why did Jennings think this was difficult? Am I missing something?¡¯ he wondered. It didn¡¯t matter, Nero wasn¡¯t going to ever let his shield drop. In fact, Nero tried to calm his mind and go to sleep while keeping the shield active. Less than ten minutes later, while Nero was asleep, the essence in the room started to vibrate. For the rest of the night, small winds were caused by Nero¡¯s mage-armor expanding and contracting. As he slept, his psychic field gently pulsed, affecting the world around him. He didn¡¯t know it, but his actions caused havoc for his fan club at the Tower of Magic in Hennings. Chapter 52 - Oaths are just peer pressure on steroids. Lord Heleema Cosgrave was drinking her third cup of coffee while listening to her aide organize the throne room for the pledge ceremony. Almost every noble in the city was going to be in attendance. Normally, an event like this wasn¡¯t such a grand spectacle. But Lord Walker¡¯s impact on the city was well known to the nobles, and nobody wanted to miss their chance to see the source of so many rumors in person. She had only managed to get three hours of sleep the night before, and the previous few days with limited sleep were starting to wear on her. Her morning had started early with a request for a private meeting from General Branson. The last time he had asked for a meeting, it was prelude to a Noble War, so she had made sure to be awake and attend. Arch-mage Jennings had surprised them both when he teleported into the office they had been using. As neither she nor General Branson had invited him, they greeted him with scolding looks. Jennings had teleported through a privacy screen, a feat that Lord Cosgrave hadn¡¯t known was possible. He had ignored their stares, and told them to go on with their meeting, he was just curious about the subject they were discussing. With some reluctance, General Branson had outlined his plan for Lord Walker to complete his ¡®service¡¯ and ¡®combat¡¯ trials while training with the army. While she had agreed that it was a good idea, she didn¡¯t think Vera Salvatore would allow it. Surprisingly, Jennings had said that it wouldn¡¯t be an issue. Without saying anything more, Jennings offered a sly smile and teleported away before they could have responded. Grimacing at the memory, Lord Heleema Cosgrave forced herself to let it go. Getting angry at an arch-mage was an exercise in futility. The man would do what he wanted. She just had to limit his impact on her rule. The players change, but the game stays the same. ¡°Do we know if Lord Walker will be offering a city pledge, or a house pledge?¡± Ms. Chandler asked. Her aide¡¯s question forced Lord Cosgrave from her thoughts. Looking up, she saw Ms. Chandler, along with several nobles, waiting for her response. Adopting a mask of calm, she responded, ¡°We do not. However, considering the actions of my son, I¡¯d be very surprised if he offered a pledge to House Cosgrave rather than Dorchester. We¡¯ll just have to see what happens. Rest assured, I¡¯m confident Vera Salvatore has prepared Lord Walker adequately.¡± Nodding, Ms. Chandler turned away and returned to her discussions with the nobles and staff in the throne room. Moving off to the side of the room, Lord Cosgrave waved for Head Guard Dalton to attend her. The man said something to the men he was standing with, and then made his way over to her. ¡°Yes, m¡¯lord,¡± he said in greeting. Lord Cosgrave whispered, ¡°Any word from my son¡¯s caravan?¡± Dalton replied quietly, ¡°Yes, this morning found them well away from the city. Nothing went wrong with the departure, and they are on schedule. Their next scheduled check-in is tomorrow. I¡¯m sorry to report that the young master is still angry. In fact, he was heard saying that his house will bear the colors orange and white.¡± Lord Cosgrave¡¯s eyes narrowed in anger. ¡°Orange and white. You¡¯re sure?¡± Nodding, he replied, ¡°Yes, but Guard Stephens said he was sure your son wasn¡¯t serious. He felt he had to report it, but believed your son was just speaking in anger.¡± Lips pursed, Lord Cosgrave said, ¡°If my son decides to follow through with choosing colors in direct opposition to House Cosgrave''s, I want you to tell Stephens that ¡®clean slate¡¯ is a go. I will not allow a future threat to my house. If he wants to be an enemy, he¡¯ll be treated as one. Am I understood?¡± With a grave nod, Head Guard Dalton replied, ¡°Yes, m¡¯lord. It will be as you say.¡± ¡°Good. Now have you selected your guards to implant within the army¡¯s training program? I was only able to secure 5 slots, but we need those to be our eyes and ears. They must be capable, loyal, and above all, they must be discreet,¡± she whispered. Dalton nodded once, ¡°I chose 5 solid recruits with houses aligned with ours. They will do what we ask without question. Are you sure you don¡¯t want them to try and arrange an accident? I¡¯m sure they could find an opportunity out in the wilds.¡± Shaking her head quickly, she snapped, ¡°No. Absolutely not. If he survives the attempt, it would be a disaster. I just want them to watch and report. How many different ways do I have to explain that he isn¡¯t a threat until we make him one. Just make sure they know their orders. I do not want someone thinking that they can take independent action. The general, and I¡¯m sure the arch-mage, both know that they are our men. Their actions will be our responsibility. I already lost a son to stupidity and I don¡¯t want to have to purge a house because my orders were ignored. Am I understood?¡± Head Guard Dalton replied with a tightness in his voice, ¡°Yes, m¡¯lord. I will ensure your orders are accurately relayed personally.¡± Lord Cosgrave softened her voice and said, ¡°Look, I understand that many people are intimidated by his display in the arena. But we already knew he was dangerous. Being capable doesn¡¯t make him a threat, opposing interests make someone a threat. Threatening his life makes us a threat to him. Our stance must be hands off. Now go, I don¡¯t want any surprises for at least a few hours.¡± With a slight bow, Head Guard Dalton headed off to ensure the pledging ceremony wouldn¡¯t be interrupted. ¡®Once again, mother was right. ¡®The obstacles in our path are often put there by people trying to help.¡¯ It makes sense that the world views ¡®listening¡¯ and ¡®hearing¡¯ as two separate skills,¡¯ she thought as she returned to her coffee and reflection. ----- Nero was sitting in a plush chair, with his feet crossed on the coffee table, enjoying his coffee. The room was large enough to have several areas that were arranged for people to sit in groups. Considering the entire room was empty, save for Nero, the silence was deafening. The tall ceiling had several chandeliers with glowing balls of essence providing the whole room with a warm glow. Heavy curtains were tied open with golden ropes, allowing the morning light to add to the room¡¯s beauty. None of the grandeur made an impression on Nero, except for the coffee. The artisanal blend was robust and had a hint of chocolate. If there was one thing that made Nero aware of the nobility of his surroundings, it was the coffee. Everything else seemed wasteful and tacky. He even thought the fancy pastries provided were a little too sweet. While waiting for someone to collect him, Nero used the link in his pocket to review the information packets Vera had sent him. She had created files for the trials of nobility, brief explanations of how they came to be, and what they entailed. Nero was thoroughly enjoying his copy of ¡®Nobility for Dummies¡¯ when he heard the doors open. A case of literary theft: this tale is not rightfully on Amazon; if you see it, report the violation. Disconnecting from his link, he stood up to see the city lord¡¯s aide, Ms. Chandler, enter the room. Behind her were two people Nero didn¡¯t recognize. With a polite smile, she said, ¡°Lord Walker, the city lord will see you now.¡± Finishing his coffee, Nero returned the smile, and replied, ¡°Cool beans. I¡¯m ready when you are.¡± He followed her out into the expansive hallway, and her attendants took their places behind him. As Ms. Chandler led him to the throne room, she asked, ¡°Do you have any questions concerning your part of the ceremony?¡± ¡°Nope. I read the instructions you guys sent. Vera was nice enough to edit it for me, so I could understand it. I¡¯ll keep to the script, don¡¯t worry,¡± he replied. Leaning in a little as they walked, she whispered, ¡°I know it¡¯s not my place to say anything, but I thought you should know that Lord Cosgrave understands why you are pledging to Dorchester rather than to House Cosgrave. I was the one who alerted her to Master Cosgrave¡¯s actions, and I can assure you that he was acting on his own. House Cosgrave wasn¡¯t aware of his plans.¡± Nero gave her a side eye along with a smirk, replying, ¡°Sure. I understand completely. If you remember, I met ¡®Master Cosgrave¡¯ a couple days ago during the recent noble war. He didn¡¯t strike me as a deep thinker. It¡¯s too bad that he went off to start his own house. I¡¯m sure he has an explanation for allowing someone to try and kill the guy who almost died saving him. In the future, when I see him, I¡¯ll be sure to ask him about it.¡± Ms. Chandler offered a polite smile, ¡°I¡¯m sure you will. I just wanted to let you know House Cosgrave¡¯s position. Perhaps you can think of today as a fresh start between House Walker and House Cosgrave. Together, I¡¯m sure you will both help Dorchester thrive.¡± Not seeing a reason to reply, Nero just nodded and kept up his ¡®party smile¡¯. It was the smile he wore when he was at work. It projected courtesy and friendliness and was based off celebrities on the red carpet. He found that it demonstrated his helpful, but distant, attitude while selling phones at his old job. Everyone who saw him knew that he was there to help them if needed, but people should try not to need help. As their little group approached the giant doors to the throne room, Nero felt the two attendants peel off to go do whatever they were supposed to do. Leading Nero onto a light blue large carpet, Ms. Chandler¡¯s link lit up. Turning to Nero she said, ¡°You¡¯ll be announced, then just walk down the carpet. I¡¯m told you can use your link without making it obvious, so if you have any questions, feel free to ask me. I¡¯ll be ready to guide you if needed.¡± Nero could tell that she was nervous. He assumed that after their bungling of the assassination attempt, everyone in the keep wanted to look like they knew what they were doing. Nero couldn¡¯t help but smile. For some reason, even with all the splendor of the keep, he was perfectly calm. Perhaps life and death situations really did desensitize a person to public speaking. A deep baritone voice rang out, ¡°Offering a pledge to Dorchester, our newest noble, Lord Walker of House Walker approaches the court of Dorchester.¡± Nero used his link to bring up the step by step instructions Vera was kind enough to provide. He walked in calmly and without showing any stress. His ¡®party smile¡¯ was on full display, Nero felt like he was channeling Ryan Gosling at a movie premier. The throne room was so large that it looked like the inside of a cathedral. Large pillars ran along the sides, and the ceiling arched majestically. There were beautiful murals, along with floating lights which were dancing across the struts. The people lining the sides were all whispering to each other. Considering how nice their robes were, Nero figured they were all nobles. There must have been hundreds of them. A balcony wrapped around the walls, and even more people were packed shoulder to shoulder, looking down on the proceedings. At the end of the room was a large throne where Lord Cosgrave was sitting. Along her sides were her attendants and guards, all of which were standing at attention. The room was so long that Nero could barely recognize anyone from where he entered. Walking at a normal pace, it took Nero an uncomfortable amount of time before he finally got to where he judged was the right place. He could see Vera off to the side, and she was discreetly pointing at where she wanted him to stop. Offering her a nod, he stopped around 20 paces from the throne. Following the script she had sent him, he projected loudly and clearly, ¡°I come before the seat of Dorchester to offer my pledge. I am Lord Walker, and my house seeks a place to grow.¡± Lord Cosgrave stood from her throne and took two steps forward to stand at the edge of the raised platform where her entourage overlooked the throne room. ¡°Approach and be recognized. Dorchester welcomes you,¡± she said with an essence infused, regal tone. Nero went forward to the foot of the steps leading up to the throne and knelt. ¡°My house has no home. I will offer a pledge in return for the safety of your walls. Does Dorchester have room for us to grow?¡± Nero asked as he knelt and looked up at Lord Cosgrave. With light steps, she descended the stairs to stand right above Nero. ¡°Dorchester¡¯s walls are high, and its soil fertile. As the city¡¯s lord and protector, I speak for the Council of Leadership. As Lord Heleema Cosgrave, I welcome you. The houses of Dorchester would welcome you to join us. Speak your pledge Lord Walker,¡± she said. ¡°I, Lord Nero Walker, pledge my house to Dorchester. I pledge my sword and magic to the defense of its walls. I pledge my assets to aid in the city¡¯s growth. I pledge my service to the people. I pledge to follow the laws of the land, and to root out all who break them. As my house rises, so shall Dorchester,¡± Nero spoke his pledge with solemnity and didn¡¯t show a hint of his inner cringe. ¡°The seat of Dorchester hears your pledge. The council hears your pledge. The people of Dorchester hear your pledge. We as a people accept you among us. Within these walls, may we grow together in common purpose. For Dorchester,¡± said Lord Cosgrave. ¡°FOR DORCHESTER!¡± the entire room erupted in one voice. There were so many people, the room shook in response. He couldn¡¯t help it, Nero got a little caught up in the moment. Feeling his heart rate rise in response to the room¡¯s unified purpose, Nero''s spine seemed to firm up a little. He rose to his full height and gave a deep bow to Lord Cosgrave. Following the script, he turned to address the crowd. He spoke loudly and projected his voice as best as could, ¡°My house now has a home. May House Walker grow well in Dorchester¡¯s soil. May House Walker be one of the pillars that allows our walls to hold back the wilds.¡± Nero raised his fist and shouted with all his heart, ¡°For Dorchester!¡± The crowd¡¯s response, ¡°FOR DORCHESTER!¡± was deafening. It was quickly followed by cheers and cries of ¡°HOUSE WALKER!¡±, and ¡°FOR OGLIVARCH!¡± Nero¡¯s heart was pumping as he felt the room shake with the excitement in the air. He even felt the essence swirl in response to the strong emotions. He strode down the carpet at a much faster pace on the way out. His stride was long and his posture rigid. Nero felt like he was going to war, and the people were cheering for his upcoming victory. As the gigantic doors closed behind him, Nero was nearly panting. ¡®That was INSANE!¡¯ he thought. He was well aware of the power of indoctrination. Countless stories and television shows have demonstrated the effect of group-think, and mob mentality. But Nero had never really understood the feeling. He raised his hand to his chest to feel his pounding heart, while trying to calm himself down. Standing in the hallway, he saw the guards smiling, and he couldn¡¯t help but return one of his own. Ms. Chandler was waiting to lead him somewhere, and her smile was one of understanding and patience. She must have seen this before. Nero finally understood football hooligans. He took a full minute to close his eyes and force some perspective back into his mind. This was theater, he couldn¡¯t afford to be caught up in it. Taking deep breaths, he mastered himself. Opening his eyes, his ¡®party smile¡¯ returned and he looked to Ms. Chandler. ¡°Thank you for waiting. I wasn¡¯t prepared for that. Lead on,¡± he gestured with his hand for her to lead the way to their next destination. Chapter 53 - Practice helps, but its talent that makes perfection. Lord Hobbs was wringing his hands in worry. He knew that this meeting was not going to be good. Although his plan had been flawless, the assassin failed, and ultimately the plan had failed. Instead of causing the mage council to lose face, his plan resulted in an even bigger insult to House Cranston. Pacing back and forth in the waiting room, he tried to find the words that would blunt Lord Cranston¡¯s anger. The tastefully decorated room demonstrated the owner¡¯s wealth and power to those using it to wait for an audience. It hadn''t been that long ago that Lord Hobbs was in this room hoping that Lord Cranston would consider implementing his proposal. Considering the outcome, he wished he had been less persuasive. The door opened, and Lord Cranston¡¯s aide said in a cold voice, ¡°Lord Cranston will see you now.¡± Scurrying behind the aide, Lord Hobbs tried to straighten his robes. Taking deep breaths to calm himself down, he prepared for the verbal battle. It was imperative that the proper people were blamed. His house could not afford to offend House Cranston. Walking into the office, Lord Hobbs saw Lord Cranston sitting behind his desk. Cranston¡¯s face was stoic, like always, and he was writing something. Rather than interrupt, Lord Hobbs waited patiently for Cranston to finish. Without looking up, Cranston set the page he finished off to the side, and spoke while capping his pen. ¡°Lord Hobbs, I¡¯d say that your plan didn¡¯t live up to all that it promised,¡± Cranston¡¯s voice was cold enough to crack steel. Forcing his hands to stillness, Lord Hobbs responded, ¡°My plan was perfect. The council¡¯s ¡®curiosity¡¯ was forced to fight just like I predicted. The failure was with the assassin. All I offered was a method to get the boy into the ring. I delivered as promised.¡± Lord Cranston stared at Lord Hobbs and the silence filled the room. Unable to stand the tension, Lord Hobbs broke. ¡°Everything was legal. Neither the crown nor the mage council can do anything in retaliation. House Cranston is safe,¡± Hobbs said hurriedly. Like a blade being drawn, Cranston hissed, ¡°Safe?¡± Standing up, Lord Cranston placed his hands on his desk and leaned over. He loomed large in the room, and Hobbs seemed to shrivel. While Lord Cranston¡¯s face was still stoic, his anger was clear in his voice. ¡°House Cranston was slighted in front of the entire court. You offered an opportunity to spit in the eye of the council of mages along with the crown. The plan was meant to show everyone that House Cranston would not be bullied. You promised a completely legal way to kill a new noble who has been a source of amusement for those ridiculous mages. They killed a Cranston, and in response I¡¯d kill their toy. Now their toy lives, and I have to give my son¡¯s inheritance to it. Am I misunderstanding the situation? If so, please enlighten me,¡± he ordered. Fear evident in his eyes, Hobbs replied, ¡°That¡¯s a simplistic evaluation. Even with the plan failing to meet expectations, the outcome was still positive. Both the crown and the mage council have seen the mettle of House Cranston. They know that they will suffer in response to any slights. An assassin was successfully sent against someone under their protection, and they could do nothing to stop him. As for the money, the Assassin¡¯s Guild owes you what you already paid for their failure. They can¡¯t complete the contract, so they¡¯re liable. As for your son¡¯s inheritance, he wasn¡¯t your heir. How large could it be?¡± The tension in Lord Cranston¡¯s eyes seemed to loosen as Hobbs spoke. However, when the subject of the inheritance was brought up, his eyes narrowed in fury. Lord Cranston roared, ¡°Silas wasn¡¯t my heir. That¡¯s true. However he was away from Hennings. Safe from the plots and intrigues of court, or so I thought. I was using him as a holding house for several businesses and accounts. While they were tied to his inheritance, I could pit my true heirs into a healthy competition. On paper, he would have received around 50 million in assets and common valens. Do you think that amount is large enough to merit some anger at its loss?¡± Paling, Lord Hobbs was unable to come up with a reply. He just stood there with his mouth open. Silas Cranston, Lord Cranston¡¯s mage-adept son, was an idiot. Everyone knew that. How on earth did Lord Cranston think it was a good idea to leave him anything? Even if it was some plot for inner house politics, that was insanity. Lord Cranston said, ¡°You are going to do whatever you have to do in order to hide the true value of the inheritance. I¡¯m not handing over that kind of money to some no-name child in the middle of nowhere. Do you hear me?¡± Stuttering in response, Hobbs said, ¡°But¡­ I¡¯m sure the king already knows. He made a special point to say that the Tower of Law would be observed while they handle the audit. There is nothing I can do.¡± ¡°You can¡¯t do anything? I recommend you think hard, and offer a solution,¡± Cranston said quietly. Lord Hobbs started wringing his hands together, thinking furiously. ¡°Maybe we could kill the boy to buy some more time. Petition the Assassin¡¯s guild to try again. If he¡¯s dead before the audit finishes, perhaps the ruling could be contested,¡± he said in panic. Slamming his palm on the table, Lord Cranston¡¯s stoic mask cracked and the fury it contained was unleashed. ¡°That boy was the only one in this whole game who played to win! Do you know what he did at the arena? He bet his entire winnings from the noble war that earned him his title. He fought for his life, and broke the arena¡¯s bank. The city lord of Dorchester banished her son so she could distance herself from the plot. This Lord Walker was a piece who stole the board. The insult I suffered wasn¡¯t from the boy, but from the crown and the mage council who killed a son of Cranston under false pretenses. I¡¯d rather find a daughter of Cranston to tie that boy to my house than kill him. He was brilliant, vindictive, and ruthless. How would you describe your playing during this game?¡± Lord Hobbs was at a loss. But luckily, a thought came to him like dawn breaking over a mountain to burn off the fog. Stolen novel; please report. ¡°My playing was perfection. I provided the strategy that delivered my promise. The assassin piece failed. Forgive me for asking, but if you were aware of the plan, how could you leave that much money tied to your son''s inheritance? Had you altered the books before you registered the assassination paperwork, this wouldn''t be an issue. Yet, you offered a piece on the board that the strategy didn¡¯t take into consideration. The loss of funds for the plan was given at the start. I estimated that a dishonored son of Cranston would only merit an inheritance of half a million, and that¡¯s what I budgeted for the assassination. You would have lost that money either way, and the goal of returning the slight would have been achieved. Regardless of whether or not the assassin succeeded,¡± Hobbs said with all the conviction he could muster. Lord Cranston leaned back and crossed his arms. After a moment, he walked to the wet bar and poured himself a drink as he thought over what Lord Hobbs had just said. This time the silence in the room was contemplative, and Lord Hobbs inwardly smiled at the ray of hope. Sighing, Lord Cranston said, ¡°You¡¯re right. You¡¯re absolutely right. You played well. The plans outcome was not your fault. The Assassins Guild and I are to blame for the plan¡¯s failure to achieve the desired outcome. They didn¡¯t study their target well enough, and I didn¡¯t plan a retreat. Now, go and do you as were bid. Be sure to audit the accounts accurately. This game was my loss. It¡¯s time to retire it, and start a new game. There are many fronts, and pouring resources into a loss is just compounding failure. Thank you for your service.¡± Lord Hobbs offered a deep bow and practically ran from the room. Sipping his drink, Lord Cranston looked out his office windows. The city loomed large in the distance from his mountain estate. So many plots and plans were being played out among the towers. He would have to be more mindful. Mistakes like these could doom his house. This entire plan had been a lark. The loss was great, but the lesson was a powerful conciliation prize. And now he could see why the mages were entranced with the boy. Lord Walker was someone to watch. Perhaps the idea of tying House Walker to House Cranston through marriage actually had some merit. ----- Nero was in a training room under the keep, playing with some spells. The cleaning spell Vera had shown him last night had opened up a lot of possibilities. If he could cast spells that pulled their own essence without him having to manipulate it, then memorizing spell-forms was a viable method to growing his repertoire. While sitting in the middle of the training area, Nero was holding a book in one hand and using his other to focus his center into a spell-form. Although casting with his hands wasn¡¯t really necessary, it was much easier to manipulate his psychic field with a tactile medium. Rather than stamping the spell form, Nero was etching, or carving it into the air. He could feel his connection to the floating symbol. The separate sections of the spell were obvious to him, even though he didn¡¯t know what they did exactly. Completed, the spell-form solidified and started pulling on the essence in the room. Nero watched, while attempting to slow the pull down in order to make sure he saw exactly what was happening. In the center of the spell form, a thin needle took shape. The stone seemed to grow over several seconds until it resembled a spike. Feeling it was ready, he activated the firing mechanism. The spike shot out like a paintball. It wasn¡¯t as fast as a gun, but it still flew straight and true. It slammed into the chest of the target dummy and broke into chips of rock and dust. Nero watched as the coalesced essence returned to the ether like smoke. With a smile on his face, he closed his book and stood up. ¡®Magic is too freaking cool,¡¯ he thought in wonder. Focusing, he repeated the spell-form over and over again. Rather than fire another spike, he just recycled his essence and kept copying the spell form until he could recognize it on site. Time didn¡¯t seem to pass as he was focused too intently on his training. ¡°Are you about finished?¡± he heard from behind him. Flubbing his cast, he saw the spell-form shudder and crack. The essence he had been using from his center floated away, now out of his control. The feeling reminded him of breaking his phone, or losing his keys. It was surprising. He had read that essence loss from a poor cast was distracting, but the feeling of regret was more profound than he had imagined it would be. With a grimace, he got himself under control and turned around. Vera was standing there with a concerned look on her face. ¡°Are you alright?¡± she asked. Nero nodded, ¡°Yeah, I just had my first experience with ¡®essence loss¡¯ from a miscast. That really sucks. I didn¡¯t understand when I read about it, but I get it now.¡± Vera smiled and replied, ¡°Yes, it is unpleasant. But, you¡¯ll get used to it. In fact, training to not let it distract you is important. Do it before you go to sleep, you recover center faster when you sleep. But remember, never drop below 50%. Even if you don¡¯t feel the effects of center depletion, it¡¯s still not a good idea to be unprepared.¡± Nodding at the good advice, Nero said, ¡°Will do. But why are you here? Is the noble meeting over?¡± ¡°Yes, court is dismissed for the moment. We have a meeting with Lords Cosgrave and Bennings, along with General Branson. The topic of discussion will be your trials. You ready to go?¡± she asked. ¡°Let me grab my stuff real quick,¡± he said. After collecting his books, Nero made sure to grab the pot of coffee along with the mug he had stolen on his way to the training room. Vera gave him an annoyed look that he just returned with a shrug and a grin. Soon enough, they were heading out. When Nero and Vera left the training room, they saw Arch-mage Jennings standing in the hallway. He was wearing a smile, and had a mug in his hand. Vera just offered a nod in greeting and kept walking. Nero followed and offered Jennings a shrug. The arch-mage didn¡¯t seem insulted and quick stepped to catch up. He held up his empty mug to Nero as they walked. ¡°You mind topping me off. They have great coffee here. It¡¯s actually imported from the Westerly Lands. You wouldn¡¯t believe how expensive this stuff is in the capital,¡± Jennings said as though it wasn¡¯t strange that he¡¯d just shown up. Vera ignored him, but Nero smiled and poured the man some coffee. ¡°Were you waiting for us?¡± Nero asked. Jennings took a sip and smacked his lips in delight. ¡°I was in the area. I figured I¡¯d see what you were up to. I hope you don¡¯t mind, but I was watching you practicing your spell work,¡± he said as if he was testing the waters. Nero chuckled and said, ¡°I¡¯ve already figured out that you were one of the peeping tom¡¯s from the capital. Populator Serenity mentioned you.¡± ¡°Charity,¡± Jennings corrected. ¡°Ha!¡± said Nero. ¡°I knew it. Anyway, thanks for the books.¡± Shaking his head in amusement, Jennings said, ¡°Very clever Nero. And I¡¯m glad the books are appreciated. It seems they might be of a little more use than I anticipated.¡± Nero narrowed his eyes and replied, ¡°What does that mean? What do you know that I don¡¯t?¡± Vera interrupted the two¡¯s verbal spar and said, ¡°We¡¯re here.¡± Opening the doors, She led them into a large conference room containing several people Nero recognized along with some he didn¡¯t. As they went to take their seats, Jennings answered Nero¡¯s question with a grin, ¡°I know many things that you do not, young Nero.¡± Chapter 54 - The art of pretending to pay attention. Mike¡¯s team was rattled. When they took the job to find and eliminate the spawn point, they knew it would be difficult. But things were spiraling out of control. Running through the forest, Mike saw their archer, Heather, waving for them to hurry. Increasing his pace, he panted as the trees whipped past him. Paying close attention to his footing, he leapt and made it to the outcropping on the cliff face. Pulling himself up, he kept an eye on the forest he had just escaped. Soon, he saw Jerry and Sarah emerge at a run and leap up beside him. The moment Jerry landed, he started waving his hands and essence gathered into a spell. Mike felt the illusion solidify, and he saw Jerry sigh in relief. ¡°What are you doing? Where is Victor?¡± Mike asked in an urgent whisper. Heather was perched at the edge with her bow ready to unleash hell on whatever monstrosity appeared. Meanwhile, Sarah was running a glowing hand along a gash in her side. Jerry said, ¡°I¡¯ve cloaked us. We can speak freely, they won¡¯t hear us. I¡¯m sorry about Victor. The ones hiding in the trees managed to hamstring him. Sarah and I saw him get mobbed. At least he didn¡¯t go quietly.¡± Rubbing his head in exasperation, Mike said, ¡°What the hell was that anyway. That wasn¡¯t a spawn point. Did you recognize what the essence was doing? I¡¯ve never seen anything like that.¡± Sarah spoke up, her voice tinged with worry, ¡°I can''t be sure, but I think it was a proto-dungeon. I¡¯ve never seen one, but I¡¯ve read about them.¡± Heather didn¡¯t take her eyes off the treeline, and her voice was cold when she said, ¡°That¡¯s not possible. They wouldn¡¯t form out here. There isn¡¯t enough ambient essence to form a dungeon.¡± Jerry said, ¡°Over the past few years, the essence has been collecting. You¡¯ve all seen it. The animals are getting more dangerous, and the plants are changing. It¡¯s been 50 years since Dorchester¡¯s seen a beast tide. If the essence in the area is changing, then it¡¯s possible the conditions were met to mutate a spawn point.¡± Nodding, Sarah chimed in, ¡°He¡¯s right. The war could have been enough to shake the knots of essence. Essence first pools, then it knots, then it forms spawn points. In areas of dense essence, they can form dungeons. A proto-dungeon makes sense.¡± Mike thought about it, and said, ¡°Fine, even if it¡¯s a proto-dungeon, that doesn¡¯t explain the amount of monsters in the area.¡± Jerry disagreed, ¡°Yes it does. Proto-dungeons have a small pocket dimension. They¡¯re spawning inside, then the overflow is what we saw. Until the dimension settles, the monsters won¡¯t feel comfortable staying inside. Growing dimensions are very uncomfortable.¡± Heather piped in, ¡°That¡¯s really interesting, but that just means we¡¯re not going to get paid. Even worse, you said this might be a prelude to a beast tide. We need to keep our mouths shut and get out of Dorchester.¡± Sarah said, ¡°I say we report it. The north has finders fees for dungeons. I¡¯ve never looked it up, but there is probably something on the local board about dungeon bounties.¡± Mike nodded and added, ¡°We¡¯re also not going to be responsible for an unreported dungeon. If that ever came out, we¡¯d be executed.¡± Looking at each of them in turn, he made sure they knew he was serious. Heather sniffed in annoyance, and said, ¡°I suppose you want us to stay and defend the city, right?¡± Mike gave her a look like she was an idiot. ¡°I¡¯m certain that we can get out before they draft anyone. Why the hell would you think I wanted to be here for a beast tide? We go get paid, then we join a caravan heading east. Bennington is far enough away that we should be safe from the beast tide, and Victor¡¯s crazy-ass wife won¡¯t be able to find us.¡± Everyone nodded in agreement. Soon they set a basic camp and went to sleep. They slept soundly, knowing that in a few days, none of this would be their problem. ----- Lord Bennings was standing in front of a large essence hologram at the head of the conference room table. She was going to be leading the meeting and outlining the rules and regulations that must be adhered to for Lord Walker to complete his trials. Due to his age, his situation was uncommon, and there were many points of interest that she had to cover. On one side of the table, General Branson sat next to Captain Angelton, along with Sergeants Peyton and Jackson. Across from them were Lord Cosgrave, Arch-mage Jennings, Vera, and Nero. Pointing at a particular section of highlighted text, Lord Bennings said, ¡°You can see quite clearly that there is no accounting for the new noble¡¯s age in the eyes of the law. He must complete a trial within a year.¡± The hologram changed to show some different text, and she continued, ¡°As he hasn¡¯t completed a branch of any knowledge trees, he is ineligible for the Trial of Knowledge at this time. I¡¯ve spoken with Mr. Salvatore and he concurs that the wording of the law indicates quite clearly that anything learned ¡®from¡¯ Nero cannot be counted as a contribution. Lord Walker must offer something himself, and he can¡¯t publish until he completes a branch.¡± Once again, the text displayed changed. She pointed to a section and said, ¡°The Trial of Legacy is also very clear. Lord Walker would had to have already married into a noble family, or completed a courting term. Even if he started today, it would be five years before he could marry a noble to complete the legacy trial.¡± Reading on this site? This novel is published elsewhere. Support the author by seeking out the original. Nero didn¡¯t like this talk of marriage, and was about to speak up, when Vera beat him to the punch. ¡°Why can¡¯t he marry a commoner? If she is pregnant within a year, it would constitute a confirmed legacy, would it not?¡± she asked. Lord Bennings shook her head, ¡°A child between someone of common birth, and a new noble facing the trials wouldn¡¯t be considered a legal scion until the age of awakening. I made sure to explore the inheritance laws quite thoroughly.¡± Vera replied, ¡°Then all we ha-¡± ¡°Nope,¡± Nero interrupted loudly. ¡°I¡¯m not marrying anyone. I¡¯ll get to that trial when I get to it. Next!¡± he ordered. Several people chuckled, and Lord Bennings frowned at him. Nero just returned a blank stare. He wasn¡¯t going to marry some random person to fulfill some ridiculous law. With a sniff of irritation, Lord Bennings moved the presentation forward. As the text displayed on the hologram changed, she said, ¡°That leaves the Trial of Combat, and the Trial of Service. In more martial areas of Oglivarch, they are usually completed at the same time. General Branson contacted me earlier today and presented a very clever plan. I¡¯ll turn the meeting over to him at this time.¡± Taking the empty seat next to Lord Cosgrave, she joined the audience as General Branson took the spot at the head of the table. ¡°We all know what is currently happening in the wilds to the east.¡± he said. Waving his hand, the hologram changed to display aerial views with highlighted areas and spots. Nero had no idea what any of it meant, but it looked very detailed and impressive. Listening to the general drone on about the aftermath of the Populators'' war with the Dorchen mercenaries, Nero tried to force himself to pay attention. Unfortunately, there was too much he didn¡¯t understand. ¡°Essence pockets¡± and ¡°knots¡±, along with ¡°condensation points¡± sounded familiar, but Nero was lost. When the general started bringing up graphs and data sets, Nero stifled a groan. The last straw was when the general started referencing Nick¡¯s essence collection data. Nero¡¯s mind wandered, and he started mentally going over spell-forms. While he kept staring at the hologram like everyone else, he wasn¡¯t even remotely paying attention. His mind was separating the spell-forms into their individual parts, in order to find similarities and determine each section¡¯s purpose. In the future, he was planning to start making his own spell-forms. Nero had already had some success, but throwing together simple spells wasn¡¯t the goal; understanding how spells were formed was his ultimate aim. Rather than watching a presentation on what he¡¯d already figured out, Arch-mage Jennings was watching Nero. The last time the young man¡¯s mind wandered like this, Jennings saw him develop a crude temperature alteration spell. Now, he was waiting patiently for Nero to do something absurd, while sipping his coffee. Eventually, General Branson started outlining his plan to combat the upcoming changes in the wilds. He based his proposal on how other cities in high essence areas dealt with their dungeons and spawning areas. Lord Cosgrave was smiling as she imagined all of the incoming essence crystals, and what it would mean for Dorchester¡¯s prosperity. Around 600 years ago, the kingdom had fought a war with Dorchester¡¯s ruler, City Lord Linas Dorchester. The fighting was intense, and the Populators had fought the local forces in the streets. The results were months of essence storms and a city in ruins. The essence in the area was never the same, and Dorchester had suffered because of it. It was a testament to the balance of the world, that when Linas Dorchen¡¯s line was finally ended, the essence seemed to return to Dorchester. ¡®Maybe it''s time to change the city''s name?¡¯ Lord Cosgrave thought to herself. It had only been a few days, and the economy was already booming with the influx of essence from the monster hunters taking advantage of the surrounding spawns. General Branson made a point of how these next few months would be critical in establishing a local structure of city-sponsored monster hunters. Outlining the expansion of the army, he finally got to why he was bringing this up now. He wanted Nero to join one of the elite monster hunting training programs. Listing all of the benefits that this cooperation could have for Lord Walker, he made note that 6 months of service would fulfill the Trial of Service. There was precedent that ¡®hostile territory¡¯ training was graded differently than regular service. Furthermore, if he managed to personally kill a dangerous beast or monster of class 3 or higher, it would fulfill his Trial of Combat. As the general was detailing his plan for Nero¡¯s squad training, he focused on speaking to Vera. She seemed nervous, but she was listening to the proposal. He highlighted the command structure, and even added that Captain Angelton would personally be teaching Nero the sword. Furthermore, Nero would have a chance to focus on his magic, while living in an environment filled with essence and potential for growth. It would be dangerous, but Nero could survive the wilds with some training. While the general did his best to convince House Walker¡¯s proxy, Lord Walker was subtly creating spell-forms behind his chair. Using his psychic field, Nero wasn¡¯t paying attention to what his eyes were seeing. His focus was on what his field was showing him. With a light touch, he was trying to not draw any attention to what he was doing. As no one was yelling at him to pay attention, he figured he was getting pretty good at being sneaky. It was much easier to hide his spell forms if he used his own essence. Slowly, he created balls of earth in the air, then reversed the spell form and broke the earth back into essence. It was a useless spell technique, but Nero was enjoying watching the coalesced essence form and then break apart. Jennings was watching Nero play, but he couldn¡¯t figure out what Nero was trying to accomplish. It looked like Nero was just condensing and releasing essence, but he was sure there was more to it. Nero was too brilliant to just be playing. Right? Jennings¡¯ focus was broken as he heard Vera ask, ¡°What do you think Nero?¡± He watched as Nero blinked a few times, and mentally returned to the room. The boy looked around, and saw that everyone was waiting for his response. He adopted a look of intense thought and started rubbing his chin. With total seriousness, he said, ¡°The general makes many good points. The charts were particularly well done. But after careful consideration, I have to agree with whatever Vera thinks is best.¡± Nodding to himself, Nero looked like he fought hard to reach that decision. Almost everyone in the room was stunned to silence. Lords Cosgrave and Bennings shared looks of confusion. Jennings couldn¡¯t help but hold a hand to his mouth to cover his chuckle. General Branson was just smiling, he didn¡¯t seem surprised at Nero obviously not having heard a word he had said over the past hour. Captain Angelton just stared at Nero, trying to see if the young man was joking. Vera, however, was holding back a tidal wave of anger. Her eyes were nearly closed as she squinted at him in fury. ¡°About his proposal Nero. What do you think about his proposal?¡± she asked through gritted teeth. Nero, staying true-to-form, replied, ¡°Oh, that. Well I can see both sides. I think there is a lot to consider.¡± Rubbing his hands, he continued, ¡°We should order another pot of coffee and talk more about it. Really explore the proposal, consider all the angles. Maybe we could get some food too, I¡¯m sure we¡¯re all hungry. Just not those pastries from the waiting rooms, they were too sweet. I¡¯m thinking sandwiches. Can¡¯t screw up a sandwich. What do you think?¡± That did it. Captain Angelton¡¯s face fell into his hands, as he realized that Nero hadn¡¯t been listening. Lords Cosgrave and Bennings just stared at Nero in shock, unable to comprehend his audacity. General Branson¡¯s smile seemed to grow even wider. Meanwhile, the Hunter-Sergeants Peyton and Jackson were still confused. As Vera verbally laid into Nero for ignoring the seriousness of the situation, Jennings burst into laughter. Arch-mage Jennings hadn¡¯t had this much fun in years. Chapter 55 - Burritos make everything better.
¡°What is it dear?¡±
¡°Why are you still in your lab? Nero¡¯s pledging ceremony is in 20 minutes.¡±
¡°I¡¯m sorry Vera, I¡¯m not going to make it. Before you get mad, just listen. Something¡¯s going on with the data from the essence collectors. I just can¡¯t figure out what it is. I received the data from the arch-mage which allowed me to re-calibrate the plotting, but I¡¯m still missing something. I just can¡¯t get it out of my head.¡±
¡°You just focus on your work. I¡¯ll handle this. Is there anything I can do to help?¡±
¡°No dear. Thank you for understanding. Tell Nero I wish him the best. Try not to let him cause another noble war.¡±
¡°Hello Nick. What can I do for you, I don¡¯t see you in attendance for Nero¡¯s big day,¡± said Jennings.
¡°Yesterday, when we were looking over the data for our essence flow tracking, do you remember the question you asked me? You asked if we were able to calculate density thresholds with our local hub. I want to know why you asked that.¡±
¡°Oh? Did something occur to you?¡± he asked.
¡°I¡¯m not in the mood for games. I¡¯ve been staring at these data sets for hours, and I¡¯m terrified that I¡¯m right. I want to hear it from someone else,¡± Nick said with terror coloring his psyche through the link.
¡°You¡¯re probably not wrong. Even before the Populators'' little kerfuffle, the essence flow rates in the area had been showing signs indicative of a threshold event. You¡¯ve probably got more than a beast wave to worry about. It looks like Dorchester is going to start having dungeons again. I think you¡¯re in for a few exciting years. Before you over-react, I¡¯ve already dropped a few hints to the people who¡¯ll need to know. Now, after we finish talking, you should ping General Branson. Be sure to send him the overlay on your left. I''m confident you two will figure out what needs to be done.¡±
¡°I¡¯ll do that. Thank you for your time arch-mage. Please enjoy the rest of your day. Sorry to bother you,¡± Nick said as politely as possible, then closed the connection.
¡°I¡¯m in the middle of watching your friend become a noble. What can I do for you?¡± he asked.
¡°Arch-mage Jennings said I should touch base with you about the events outside our walls.¡±
¡°Be at my office in central command in an hour. We have a lot to discuss. The arch-mage made me promise to let Center-Research do its job, but he offered enough hints for me to get a head start. You should start thinking about a replacement for your position as the director of research for your gate. If things work out the way I think they will, you''ll be too busy to run Center-Research. I¡¯ll see you in an hour,¡± he said, then closed the connection.
Chapter 56 - The after the meeting meeting. Arch-mage Mathers was in his office attempting to address the sea of paperwork in front of him. It had only been a few days since Jennings went on his adventure, and Mathers was already annoyed. With Jennings gone, everyone was reporting to him. Considering he was a great deal more pleasant than Jennings, everyone seemed to be taking advantage of the situation. Walking in without warning, one of his aides held up a stack of papers and said, ¡°Sir, none of these are filled out,¡± The interruption caused Mathers¡¯ concentration to break. Sighing, he looked up at what the aide was pointing at, and Mathers fought to keep his temper in check. ¡°That¡¯s because that¡¯s from the inbox. When I asked you to upload and send out the papers on my desk, I assumed I didn¡¯t have to specify which pile to take,¡± he said through gritted teeth. Not even remotely intimidated, the aide nodded and placed the pile he was holding on Mathers¡¯ desk, not even close to the inbox. Walking over to the other side of the desk, he collected the stack of papers from the outbox and held them up with a smile. ¡°I¡¯ll get these sent out right away,¡± he said and started to walk away. Mathers leaned over to his desk to move the papers his aide just dropped off into the inbox clearly marked on his desk. Trying not to shout, he addressed his aides back, ¡°Remember to read the top of each page to make sure they¡¯re sent to the right department and/or person.¡± Not hearing a response, he started to stand up. ¡°Of course! I know how to send mail, I¡¯m not an idiot,¡± the aide shouted from his desk outside Mathers¡¯ office. Sitting back down, Mathers¡¯ rubbed his temples and tried to convince himself that killing aides was not a solution to his problems. Receiving a long range connection request, he isolated the point of origin and viewed who was trying to reach him. Seeing Jennings waving at him, Mathers reached out and helped open the scy-connection. A floating portal started form above his desk, and the image of Jennings started to appear. The moment the connection was picked up by Jennings, Mathers said, ¡°When are you coming back?¡± Jennings amusement was obvious as he replied, ¡°I might be out here a while. It looks like Dorchester is ascending back to a level 2 city a little earlier than expected. It seems the recent kerfuffle they had was enough to put it over the edge. I¡¯m calling because we need to push up our plans for the Center-point academy we were going to build. We should also send someone out here to actually BE the court mage. You and I both know I¡¯m not going to do it.¡± Mathers cork finally popped. ¡°Are you kidding me?!?¡± he shouted over the scry. The connection shook with his rage, and Mathers watched Jennings¡¯ eyebrows shoot up in surprise. ¡°There is too much that needs doing here for one man alone. You¡¯ve been gone 2 days and I¡¯m a week behind. How the hell do you expect me to get any of this done with you traipsing around with Nero. Get your ass back here and do your job. You ¡­ You¡­ Jackass!¡± he said, trying to find a sufficiently scathing insult. Jennings just chuckled. ¡°The council is sending everything to you aren¡¯t they,¡± he asked. Mathers paused for a full 5 seconds, then asked, ¡°What do you mean?¡± ¡°Well, I¡¯ve felt most of them watching me since I got here. I was wondering how they found the time, but I guess now I know. You don¡¯t really think I was doing all that paperwork did you? Just try to imagine what I¡¯d put up with, then cut it in half. That¡¯s about all I do. The council was created for this purpose. In fact, as my right hand, you already do most of my paperwork,¡± Jennings said as if it were obvious. Mathers knuckles turned white as he squeezed his desk in fury. ¡°Those sons of bitches. Time-sucking vampires. Opportunists! I¡¯m going to drag them one at a time into the arena and hang them upside down. I¡¯ll spank them like the unruly children they are in front of the entire damned kingdom!¡± he shouted. Jennings was smiling and nodding along to Mathers¡¯ rant. ¡°That¡¯s great. In another hundred years, you¡¯ll be burning your enemies with your words alone. Keep practicing. In the meantime, just start yelling and threatening them. Otherwise they¡¯ll just walk all over you. In fact, you¡¯re in charge. Start giving some orders!¡± he said with enthusiasm. ¡°Yes!¡± said Mathers as he hopped up to his feet and slammed his fist into his palm. Jennings said, ¡°First order of business is to have someone organize the daily highlights of the recordings they¡¯ve been watching. Call it ¡®Project Nero¡¯. That way everyone won¡¯t complain about being forced to start working again. Then teleport someone out here to run the local mage tower for me. Also assign someone to find out what House Cranston is up to. We don¡¯t want any more surprises. You¡¯re going to have to deal with the Tower of Fate yourself though. Make sure they don¡¯t do anything stupid. Who knows what they¡¯re thinking about doing. Watch yourself with them, they¡¯re all morons.¡± Mathers paced back and forth, nodding along. ¡°Right,¡± he said as he mentally took notes. ¡°Anything else?¡± Jennings shrugged, and replied, ¡°Not off the top of my head. You¡¯ll figure it out. You¡¯ve been with me for a couple hundred years. Just do what you think I¡¯d do. It only annoyed you, because I was doing it to you. Now you¡¯ll be doing it to others. You¡¯ll love it.¡± Mathers couldn¡¯t find fault in anything Jennings was saying. ¡°Now I have to go. I just wanted to check in and update you on the happenings. They¡¯re going to force Nero to go join an elite monster hunting squad, and there are so many stupid plots afoot that I don¡¯t want to miss it when they tell him. I can¡¯t wait,¡± Jennings said and closed the connection without waiting for a reply. Mathers just shook his head in annoyance. Jennings would never change, but his antics didn¡¯t seem to bother Mathers as much as they usually did. Perhaps it was a result of Mathers acting as the director of the council. He now understood why Jennings was the way he was. Putting up with idiocy on a daily basis was harder than he expected. Support the creativity of authors by visiting the original site for this novel and more. ----- After their meeting at the keep, Vera decided to head back to the Gate 7 Center with Nero. Sitting opposite each other in a carriage, they were discussing the next few days. As much as Nero enjoyed ignoring the particulars, Vera enjoyed discussing them in excruciating detail. ¡°However you want to do it is fine,¡± Nero said while watching the citizens go about their day through his window. ¡°Well, I understand you don¡¯t want to worry about it, but they owe House Walker millions, and I¡¯m going to make sure we get it,¡± she said with some anger. Nero sighed, and said, ¡°Look, why don¡¯t you just do the same thing you did with the shipping company. Doesn¡¯t the city own the arena? Why don¡¯t you just negotiate a buy-in. In the long term it will be more money, and isn¡¯t that easier than moving a ton of money around. Or whatever it was you were just trying and failing to explain?¡± Vera¡¯s eyes lit up. ¡°Yes, that would work. I checked, and you can¡¯t own an arena, but you could be an investor. You¡¯d be the only house with a stake in the arena. Lord Cosgrave will consider it a win. She¡¯ll tie you more firmly to Dorchester, and make it seem like a gesture of goodwill. They¡¯ll know what you¡¯re doing, but it solves the issue nicely. It¡¯ll be years before you make back what they owe you, but you¡¯ll come out ahead in the end. That¡¯s good thinking,¡± she said. Nero nodded along as if he was listening. ¡°Hey, you mentioned something about wanting me to keep the spoils from my kills. What was that about?¡± he turned to her and asked. ¡°I said that for the essence crystals mostly. They¡¯re the backbone of the economy. I know you read about them. Normally, city-teams turn in their spoils and only receive a share. No reason to let them benefit from your work,¡± she said. Nero gave her a grin and said, ¡°That¡¯s what I thought you were hinting at. Isn¡¯t the market for essence crystals going to explode? From the general''s presentation it seems like the city¡¯s economy will have to shift to account for an influx of hunters and essence crystals. We should open up some businesses to take advantage of that. We already have a shipping company, can we use that somehow?¡± Vera leaned forward and said, ¡°That¡¯s a good point. Typically, nobles would be tasked with addressing the concern, but there is no law that says we couldn''t get a head start. What did you have in mind?¡± Nero gave her a confused look, and replied, ¡°That was my whole idea. I don¡¯t know anything about the economy, I was just pointing out that we should do something. You¡¯re the one who would know how to take advantage of the situation. Why do you think I brought it up?¡± Vera leaned back and shook her head ruefully, ¡°Fine. I¡¯ll set up some trading houses and start stock-piling some weapons and armor for trade. The prices for crystals are regulated, but there is plenty of profit to be made. We can open up some stores near gate 15. I¡¯ll call it ¡®Precision Supplies¡¯.¡± Nero shook his head and quickly replied, ¡°Nah, call it ¡®Precision Trading House¡¯. That way people can say they''re hitting the trading house, and word of mouth will spread that when you have essence crystals, that¡¯s where you go. Trade is where it¡¯s at. Also, make sure it¡¯s a separate company. We¡¯ll be 50/50 partners. We keep it separate so we can manipulate the prices you charge us for shipping. It¡¯ll help with the tax breaks.¡± Vera''s eyes widened in shock. ¡°Nicholas said that you had memories of a past life, were you involved in finance?¡± Nero didn¡¯t want to get into his past, so he just replied, ¡°Something like that.¡± After getting a transport to gate 7, they were back in another cab heading toward the center. ¡°Isn¡¯t there a faster way to move around the city? A 40 minute commute is annoying,¡± Nero grumbled as he looked out the window. He noticed that the people walking around Gate 7 were much more ¡®common¡¯ looking. The fancy robes were gone, and everyone looked more relaxed. Vera answered Nero¡¯s question, ¡°Yes, most noble estates have private astra-platforms. They are small teleport junctions that can take you directly to a hub. You can¡¯t eliminate the commute, but you can cut it down drastically.¡± ¡°Speaking of estates,¡± said Nero. ¡°Am I even going to see my place before I move to the army compound for training?¡± ¡°Probably not. I¡¯ll handle it. Don¡¯t worry about it. You should spend the rest of the night in the dorms. Tomorrow too, if you can. Nicholas and I have a lot to do, and every time you leave your dorm room, you cause chaos,¡± she said with a grimace. Chuckling, he said, ¡°No problem. I have a lot of reading to do. I can use the training rooms they have there, right?¡± Vera nodded in response. Nero continued, ¡°Have you pinged Nick yet? How does he feel about you signing him up for an adventure? Also, you¡¯re not going to send Ms. Averett with me are you?¡± Vera looked surprised. ¡°I haven¡¯t had a chance to speak with Nicholas. But, why would you think Ms. Averett would be joining you?¡± she asked. Shrugging, Nero replied, ¡°She¡¯s the only person I know that could both, fill the position of bodyguard, and that you had a connection to.¡± Vera looked like she was considering something. ¡°I do have an entire guard force that works for ¡®Precision Shipping¡¯. I was going to assign one of the trainers to you. But Cathleen is a really good idea. I know she¡¯s been difficult to deal with the past few years. She loves helping nurture young talent, but she has the heart of a warrior. She came to Dorchester when two of her brothers were stationed here. Since they were deployed to the front, she¡¯s been bouncing off the walls.¡± Nero said quickly, ¡°I wasn¡¯t trying to give you ideas. I was trying to say that she was a BAD idea. Training with that woman around would be a nightmare.¡± Smiling, Vera said, ¡°Yes. She is very good at what she does. She¡¯ll make sure you get the best out of the experience. That was a very good idea. I¡¯ll talk to her, and see if she¡¯s interested.¡± Nero paled and said, ¡°So you¡¯re doing that selective hearing thing that you do when Nick is around. Fine, I trust your judgment. But I want you to keep in mind that I¡¯m not Nick. Retaliation is a possibility with me. So don¡¯t consider me a doormat.¡± Chuckling, Vera replied, ¡°Doormat. That was a rather amusing image. Thank you for that. And don¡¯t worry, I¡¯m well aware that you aren¡¯t someone who takes slights lightly. YOU can be reasoned with, while Nicholas just tends to do whatever he feels like in the moment. The larger game was never his concern.¡± Nero said, ¡°I can see that. He seems like a typical nerd. Focusing on things that interest him while ignoring everything else. Let¡¯s get back to the ¡®everything else¡¯. Did they send you the training schedule? When do I have to move to the compound?¡± Vera said, ¡°Probably 4 days from now. I¡¯ve been going over the details they sent over while we were talking. Just stay at the center until you hear from me. I¡¯ll be pinging you to keep you updated on events. I¡¯ll prepare everything; I have to do it for Nicholas anyway. You just focus on preparing yourself for a drastic change in your lifestyle. Take this seriously, as your life will depend on it.¡± Nero nodded, ¡°I¡¯ll be reading and training. That¡¯s the entirety of my plans. Let me know if I need to do anything else.¡± As their conversation devolved into small talk, their ride came to an end. Vera had some business at Center-Intake to deal with. She had to organize her replacement, and have a ton of meetings. Vera was dealing with a lot of stuff that Nero didn¡¯t pay attention to. While she went to her office, Nero went to the cafeteria. The burrito he got from Jennings wasn¡¯t enough, and he felt like pie was a good idea. Chapter 57 - Nero: the man, the myth, the legend General Branson had just returned from the keep, and things were going according to plan. His conversation with Lord Cosgrave, following the meeting with Lord Walker, went well enough. She seemed to understand the daunting task ahead of them. He didn¡¯t think that she would interfere with what had to be done. Hopefully, she would be able to keep the other nobles from causing issues. Captain Angelton and the sergeants had returned immediately after the meeting to organize the training facility at the army compound in Gate 15. The proximity to the east wilds would provide the best environment for what they were planning. There was a lot to do, and not a lot of time in which to do it. As the general approached his office, he used his link to go over the reports of the day. The mountain expedition out of Gate 3 reported success in their mission to clear out a kobald infestation. Gate 9 was asking for reinforcements, they needed more men to deal with the sewer slimes. There must be a queen slime somewhere, and they couldn¡¯t find it. The general sent orders to Gate 2 to assist them, as the mountain facing side of the city was quiet as of late. Seeing his aides, Private¡¯s Neeling and Mason, standing at their desks awaiting orders, General Branson asked, ¡°Anything to report?¡± Private Neelan¡¯s eyes went to the right of the room and he replied, ¡°Sir, Specialist Howard insists on a meeting.¡± The general turned to see Specialist Howard standing by the waiting room chairs. He projected his anger well, both with his frown and his crossed arms. ¡°We need to talk, Sir,¡± he said. There was little to no respect in his voice. General Branson just smiled and said, ¡°In my office. I¡¯ll be right with you.¡± Giving the general a curt nod, Specialist Howard strode to the office while waving his hand to open the doors. After passing through the doors, they slammed shut of their own accord. Both the aides gave a sneer at the disrespect, but General Branson didn¡¯t seem to care. Instead of addressing Howard¡¯s conduct, the general started giving out orders. As the aide¡¯s took notes, the general spoke in quick sentences detailing how he wanted things done. He addressed all the issues that were currently affecting his army, and the minutes passed quickly. Spending the day at the keep had put him behind schedule, and the three of them worked efficiently to catch up. The general¡¯s office doors slammed open, and Howard walked out. With an angry tone, Specialist Howard started, ¡°General, We need to di-¡± The essence in the air froze. The aides felt like the temperature dropped 20 degrees, and Howard felt his control over the ambient essence vanish. It was at that moment, he knew that he had gone too far. The general¡¯s voice was so cold that it caused everyone in the room to wince. ¡°Boy! You will go back into that room and sit your ass in a chair. I am busy. You are not a priority. I will deal with you in a minute. Now don¡¯t speak. Just close the doors,¡± he said. The doors closed softly, and the aides felt the essence normalize. The anger in the general¡¯s voice seemed like a bad memory, as he returned to his normal tone and resumed giving orders. Not saying anything about what just happened, the aides went back to furiously taking notes. Several minutes later, the general finished. ¡°If you have any questions, I¡¯ll be in my office. Don¡¯t worry about interrupting, this meeting isn¡¯t important. Also, get some food up here. I¡¯m thinking some stew,¡± he said, and then went into his office. Entering his office, the general barked, ¡°Now, why are you here?¡± Specialist Howard shot to his feet at attention. His foul mood had returned, but it was held in check. ¡°Sir, I would like to protest the orders that I received. There are much more useful things for me to be doing than babysitting a noble brat,¡± he said, clearly fighting the urge to shout. General Branson poured himself a glass of water and took his chair behind the intimidating office desk. ¡°Like what?¡± he said in interest. Specialist Howard was expecting the general to argue, and the question threw him. ¡°Well, there are many threats to the city that I could be addressing. I heard that the east-wilds are teeming with monster-spawns and the beasts are mutating like crazy. I could do a lot of good there.¡± The general took a sip of his water, and leaned back in his chair with a comfortable sigh. ¡°Yes, they are. Did you READ your orders? I believe this is a recurring problem with you. You are impulsive, and don¡¯t adequately prepare for battle,¡± he said. Confused, Specialist Howard split his mind so he could bring up his orders over the link while they were talking. Reading the orders again, he saw his mistake. Trying to pivot, he said, ¡°Sir, I just meant that I could do more for Dorchester by clearing the wilds themselves.¡± Giving the young man a smirk, the general said, ¡°No you didn¡¯t. You read the part about being assigned to a training unit with a focus on a noble and jumped to conclusions. I¡¯m going to be blunt, because you need to hear it. You¡¯re an idiot.¡± Specialist Howard bristled, but held in his response. Seeing that he wasn¡¯t going to be interrupted, the general continued, ¡°You act without considering the larger picture. This assignment will be good for you. You probably didn¡¯t even bother to notice the NAME of the noble you¡¯ll be training. The boy is a thinker. He is a self-trained mage. He¡¯s killed men in combat, and won an assassination challenge in the arena. Unlike you, he acts with intelligence and forethought. In addition to helping him with his magic, I want you to watch him. Learn from observing him. Do not ask him for training or explanations, because the moment you show weakness, he¡¯ll exploit it. He sees a great deal, and I don¡¯t want to give him another level. I wouldn¡¯t have sent you if the arch-mage himself didn¡¯t subtly ask for you to be given the assignment.¡± Shocked, Specialist Howard tried to parse through what the general had just said. ¡°It¡¯s the kid that¡¯s been on the news? Why¡¯s he training with an elite monster hunting squad?¡± Shaking his head, the general replied, ¡°THAT¡¯S what you took away from what I just said? Dear gods man, you need to stop spending all your time on spell manuals. If you don¡¯t start paying attention to what is going on around you, then you¡¯re going to die. Not everything attacks you from the front.¡± If you encounter this tale on Amazon, note that it''s taken without the author''s consent. Report it. Placing his water to the side of his desk, the general started moving papers on his desk. His patience with the young specialist had ended. He had more important things to deal with. Without looking up, he said in clear and firm voice, ¡°Just go and pack. I¡¯m not discussing this with you anymore. Since you clearly can¡¯t think for yourself, just follow your orders.¡± Specialist Howard could see that the general wasn¡¯t going to say anything else. Without any other choice, he offered a quick nod and left the general¡¯s office. Without glancing at the aide¡¯s outside the office, he walked quickly into the halls. Specialist Howard had a lot to think about. The general though, he went back to work, the specialist quickly forgotten. Dorchester had many things happening, and Specialist Howard didn¡¯t merit any more consideration. The man was a talented mage, but he was incapable of being anything other than a weapon to be pointed at an enemy. ----- Nero was enjoying his dinner. While he ate, he used his link to re-read the first book he had read when he got to this world. Specifically, he was going over the section on condensing experience into growth. When he first read it, he thought it was spiritual mumbo-jumbo about how to meditate. Yet, after all he¡¯d seen, he realized that it was very literal. It was difficult for Nero to treat things like ¡®internalizing your feelings¡¯ as a scientific principle. Regardless of how annoying it was, Nero knew that he would have to start meditating and playing by the rules that made up this world. It was time to stop being a whiny-little-bitch and start treating his personal growth as an important facet of his new life. With his new perspective, Nero started understanding what the author was saying. Every experience resulted in a person absorbing essence into their center. Understanding how that essence fit into a person¡¯s personality matrix, or identity, was essential to leveling. The faster the person internalized that growth, the less experience was lost to the ambient ether. If Nero didn¡¯t start examining what he experienced, he¡¯d lose the essence that he gained from those experiences. Rubbing his forehead, Nero closed his link. As important as it was, it was too philosophical for Nero to really understand. Instead of worrying about it, he focused on enjoying the rest of his meal, and tried to let the deep thoughts marinate. Hopefully, some clarity would come with time. When he finished, Nero went to drop off his dishes at the bussing station. Curiously, Nero noticed that a lot of people were staring at him. After dropping off his dishes, he headed back to his room. Along the way, he started to pay attention to how much people were staring. Nero saw small groups whispering to each other. People¡¯s smiles were a little wider than usual when they offered their polite nods in greeting. It seemed like he was garnering a lot of interest, and he didn¡¯t like it. After hurrying through the halls, he eventually got to his room. As he closed the door, blocking out the people in the halls, Nero exhaled like he had made it through a mine-field. ¡°What the hell was that?¡¯ he wondered. Nero knew that Vera was busy. He remembered her going into great detail about everything that she was doing. It all seemed important, even though the specifics were lost on him. Imagining her response to him asking, ¡®Why are people staring at me?¡¯, made Nero shiver. Asking her was not an option. Without any better ideas, Nero decided to check in with Nick. He hadn¡¯t spoken with him in a while, and he could use that as an excuse for the call. Maybe Nick knew what the hell was going on. Opening the connection, Nero felt Nick accept the ping. ¡°Hey Nero, I¡¯ve heard you had a busy day. I¡¯m sorry I wasn¡¯t at your pledging ceremony, something important came up,¡± Nick said as he picked up the ping. ¡°No problem. Vera and I had it handled. You doing all right?¡± asked Nero. Nick¡¯s psyche seemed a little nervous to Nero. ¡°Yeah, everything¡¯s fine. Or it will be. Listen, how much have you read about city levels? Or essence density?¡± asked Nick. Nero could sense that this was going to be a full-on conversation, and wanted his question answered before they got into it. ¡°Hold on Nick. I got a question first. This may sound weird, but just bear with me. Do you happen to have any idea why people at the center are staring at me? I¡¯m wearing the noble clothes you gave me. I changed the theme to gray, does that mean something that I don¡¯t know?¡± he asked. Surprised, Nick responded, ¡°No. Gray just means that you¡¯re a neutral. Houses and people wear that color to show that they haven¡¯t picked a side. You¡¯ll have to choose your house colors at some point, and those will mean something. But that¡¯s not what your asking. Have you checked the news?¡± Nero asked, ¡°What news? Is there a paper on the link or something?¡± Nick chuckled over the link. ¡°Nero, are you capable of opening a separate connection while using the link to hold a ping?¡± ¡°I don¡¯t know. I¡¯ve never tried. What do you want me to connect to?¡± Nero asked. ¡°Just open a connection to the city directly. Not the center hub, focus on connecting to the city hub,¡± Nick said patiently. Nero took a seat at his desk and closed his eyes. Focusing on his mental gymnastics, he made sure to keep a tight hold on his connection to Nick. It took some effort, but he was able to split his attention, and open a connection to the city. Directing his thoughts to Nick, he said, ¡°Okay, I got a city connection open. Now what?¡± Nick replied, ¡°Focus on opening the section for current events.¡± Dutifully, Nero opened the a pathway to ¡®current events¡¯. There were headlines for different news stories and sections highlighting the different gates. It was the equivalent to city news, along side local news. Scanning the top stories, Nero immediately saw what Nick was trying to show him. There was a big picture of Nero kneeling at the steps to the throne. There were several stories about him, and profile pieces on Dorchester¡¯s newest noble. Shocked, Nero fumbled the connection to Nick. Luckily, Nick stabilized the connection. Nero felt Nick¡¯s amusement clearly. ¡°I¡¯m guessing you¡¯ve found out about your newfound celebrity,¡± said Nick. ¡°What the hell Nick? There¡¯s videos of my pledging ceremony. I don¡¯t remember seeing any cameras,¡± Nero said as he tried not to panic. ¡°Camera¡¯s? Most of those are memory engrams from people who attended the meeting. Cameras were probably there, but those don¡¯t record the feeling of being there. The news usually avoids using them,¡± said Nick. ¡°Nick¡­ I have to go. This is a little too much to take in right now,¡± Nero said. His heartbeat was pounding in his head, and he felt like he was about to have a panic attack. ¡°Calm down Nero. Just try to meditate and breathe. Maybe get some sleep. It¡¯s not that big a deal, you¡¯ll see. Also, make sure to read up on essence density. It¡¯s important. I¡¯m sure you¡¯ll feel better in the morning, but ping me if you need to,¡± Nick said, and then ended the connection. Nero sat in his chair, mentally staring at the numerous articles about his time since he arrived in this world. They even had an in depth review of his actions in the noble war, and the arena. He was city wide news. Just imagining what the section for Gate 7 local news said about him gave Nero the shivers. The fact that there was ¡®news¡¯ was something Nero hadn¡¯t considered. Was there entertainment? Movies? Web-shows? Did this world have a Youtube equivalent? How much had Nero missed? Putting his head between his legs, Nero cut the connection to the city-hub. Taking deep breaths, he focused on calming down. Clearing his mind, he concentrated on his breathing. After several minutes, he got up to go to his bathroom for some water. Standing at the sink, Nero threw some water on his face and looked at his reflection in the mirror. The panic in his eyes was gone, and only shock remained. Staring at himself in the mirror, Nero calmed down. ¡®I guess I¡¯m a celebrity now. It might be time to revisit that t-shirt idea. Clothing lines are big money,¡¯ he thought to himself. Chapter 58 - Everyone has their own concerns Mistress Deidre Cosgrave was carefully manipulating her spell form while sweat dripped from her chin. Her private training room was empty, as she preferred to train without distractions. Her spell form finally snapped into shape, then started to draw on the essence in the air. She watched as the small fireball started to form. Paying careful attention to the input streams, she let it grow. After several seconds, she triggered the spell¡¯s targeting function. Like a fast pitched softball, her spell shot toward the dummy. As the spell form dissipated, the fireball exploded in a glorious conflagration of fire and destruction. Deidre took a deep breath at the success. With a smile on her face, she collected a towel from a bench and wiped the sweat from her face. Grabbing her water bottle, she was mid-sip when she received a ping at the door. Walking over, she threw her towel over her shoulder and kept drinking. Katerina Neelson, her advisor and teacher, entered with a proud smile on her face. ¡°I felt that last one from the hall. You¡¯re getting better,¡± she said. Deidre smiled and said, ¡°The spell-form is still tricky. The weave is still too slow. I¡¯ll get there eventually. Regardless, the sentiment is appreciated. What can I do for you?¡± Katerina¡¯s smile dimmed, as she said, ¡°I wanted to speak with you about your plans.¡± Deidre gave her a defiant look and replied, ¡°You¡¯re actually going to try and talk me out of it?¡± Shaking her head, she replied, ¡°No. However, I¡¯m not going to stand by and let you doom your house. If you persist in this foolishness, I¡¯ll have to inform your mother.¡± Shocked, Deidre said, ¡°You¡¯ve never threatened to tell my mother anything in the past. What¡¯s different now?¡± ¡°You know what¡¯s different. I¡¯m sure you¡¯ve heard the rumors. Your brother plans to declare his house in opposition to House Cosgrave,¡± said Katerina. Waving a dismissive hand, Deidre said, ¡°That¡¯s nonsense. He¡¯s just angry. As he has every right to be. After Lord Walker¡¯s dead, mother will send for him. He¡¯ll come home and everything will sort itself out. This will all be nothing but a memory in a few years.¡± Katerina stepped forward and gripped Deidre by the shoulders. Staring at the girl with firm eyes, she said, ¡°You¡¯re not listening. Banish your emotions and analyze the situation. If you were the scion of another house, and you were analyzing House Cosgrave. How do you think the next few moves will play out?¡± Deidre was paralyzed in confusion. Katerina had never, in all the time she¡¯d known her, acted like this. She was always there to help, to comfort, to offer support. Deidre had never known her to be so forceful. Trying to imagine the scenario Katerina asked her to, Deidre took a minute and thought it through. She realized what Katerina was trying to tell her, and she felt herself start to panic. ¡°You''re right. We don¡¯t have a lot of time. If Lord Walker doesn¡¯t die before Derek declares, mother will have no choice but to have him killed. This isn¡¯t about a slight to House Cosgrave anymore, my brother¡¯s life hangs in the balance,¡± she said firmly. Deidre watched as Katerina¡¯s eyes fell. Without another word, Katerina turned and walked away. Although Deidre didn¡¯t know how old the woman was exactly, Katerina looked like she had just aged a decade as her shoulder¡¯s slumped and her steps seemed forced. At the door, Deidre heard Katerina mutter, ¡°Stupid, foolish children. Never learning, always repeating the same mistakes. Nearly two decades wasted.¡± Realizing the danger, Deidre opened her link. She had plans to alter, and trails to eliminate. Everything had to happen without Katerina finding out. It had to appear that Deidre had decided to cancel her plans to have Lord Walker killed. Success would be difficult, but it was possible. Lord Walker had to die before her brother reached a city. Opening a map with the link, she saw the closest city he could reach was Locksgrave. With some quick math in her head, she estimated a month. 30 days should be more than enough time to organize an accident. Taking into account travel times, she should have her brother back in no more than two months at the latest. Smiling, she sat down on the bench and started sending out pings. After she eliminated every plan Katerina knew about, she¡¯d have to find some hunters. Specifically, some hunters who were looking for money, and weren¡¯t interested in staying in Dorchester. Deidre went through her contact list. She needed a fixer, and she knew just who to ping. ----- While mentally working on his essence density report for General Branson, Nick had received a ping from Nero. Although the conversation was short, it did a lot to relieve Nick¡¯s stress. Hearing Nero find out that he was now a celebrity was priceless. Nero¡¯s psyche was in shambles, and Nick tried his best not to laugh at the poor boy¡¯s misery. Walking into the dining room, Nick saw Vera and Lord Bennings having tea. Vera had invited the lord over to talk about Nick¡¯s acceptance of the trials. While their purpose for meeting was to discuss Nick, he wasn¡¯t surprised that they were instead talking about the events of the past few days. Seeing Nick come in, the conversation turned toward his ascension to nobility. Taking a seat, Nick listened to them decide his fate. ¡°You¡¯re going to have a lot of work to do with House Walker. Are you sure you want to found a house right now?¡± Lord Bennings asked Vera while sipping her tea. Nodding, Vera replied, ¡°It¡¯s necessary. Nicholas and I always planned on doing it eventually, and this seems like the perfect time. This way, he can watch over Nero while completing his own trials. Nero is the one on a timeline. We can file for Nicholas to complete both the Trial of Knowledge and Trial of Service already. His work with Center-Research fulfills the requirements for both.¡± Lord Bennings replied, ¡°Quite right. Lord Walker only has to complete one trial a year, but it must be done. New nobles are under strict requirements if they want to maintain the protections the royal house provides. As for Nicholas, will he be keeping the name Salvatore? As a scion, he could. Even so, it will still only be a branch house. Typically, for those, a new name is chosen.¡± Vera looked to Nick with a smile, and answered, ¡°We¡¯ve spoken about it. We¡¯ve decided on the name ¡®Verena¡¯. It¡¯s a name from the north, meaning ¡®truth¡¯.¡± A case of literary theft: this tale is not rightfully on Amazon; if you see it, report the violation. Nick nodded. The name had always spoken to him. With a wave of his hand, Nick summoned a glass and a bottle of the expensive whiskey he preferred. Lord Bennings nodded. ¡°Then after I file this paperwork, you will be Mr. and Mrs. Salvatore-Verena of House Verena. Any last minute changes before I file this?¡± Vera and Lord Bennings reviewed the paperwork together, as Nick just sat and enjoyed his whiskey. He was more than fine with Vera handling everything. This was her area of expertise, and he¡¯d just get in the way. Soon enough, the paperwork was filed, and Lord Bennings left for her own estate. Nick was still at the table when Vera returned from seeing the lord off. As Vera walked back into the dining room, she said, ¡°Please tell me that you didn¡¯t just sit there the whole time drinking. Did you finish your paperwork for leaving Center-Research? Or were you working on the report General Branson asked you for?¡± Paling, Nick replied, ¡°I was focusing on watching you work. You¡¯re amazing, my love. The way you navigate the game and seek advantage is awe-inspiring.¡± Nick¡¯s smile was wide and charming. Vera offered him a blank look, and said nothing. With a sigh, Nick stood up and finished his drink. ¡°I¡¯ll be in my office if you need me. I have some work to get done before morning. Let me know if you need anything,¡± he said. Smiling as if she hadn¡¯t gotten exactly what she wanted, Vera replied, ¡°Of course, dear. I will be in my office as well.¡± She went over and kissed Nick on his cheek, then walked off. As she was exiting the dining room, she said over her shoulder, ¡°It seems we are going to be opening some trading houses. Make sure to let your brother know that you¡¯ll be taking some blacksmiths and enchanters along with you when you officially leave House Salvatore tomorrow. I¡¯ll send you a list in an hour or two.¡± Nick just stared at her back as she left. ¡®What the hell is that woman up to now?¡¯ he wondered. Shaking himself out of his curiosity, he walked toward his office, making sure not to forget his bottle of whiskey. It was best to not try and figure out Vera¡¯s plans. He just had to do what he was told and enjoy the benefits of her machinations. ----- Nero had gone to bed early. Too much had happened yesterday, and he wasn¡¯t handling it well. Now, it was 3 in the morning, and he was staring at his breakfast. The cafeteria was nearly empty, but there were still groups who were either starting or ending their day. Nero could tell they were watching him. He felt their attention like it was an itch he couldn¡¯t scratch. Social anxiety had never been a problem for him, but he had never liked groups. He preferred anonymity. His newfound celebrity was unwelcome, and he grit his teeth in annoyance. Picking up his breakfast, he decided to find somewhere else to eat. Walking quickly through the halls, he was soon back in his room, safe from the stares and interest of his peers. Eating quietly, Nero opened his identity.
Name Nero Walker Level 7
Race Human Growth 36%
Tier 1 Condition 100%
Age 14 Center 100%
Body 1 Mind 4
Soul 1 Confluence 10
Stars 0 Pillars 0/0
He couldn¡¯t deny it anymore, he had stopped growing. Nero could feel it. Too much had happened, and he felt out of control. This world was different. It was as though all the experiences were bottled up in his gut, and he couldn¡¯t face them. The stress was like acid reflux. If Nero didn¡¯t get a handle on it, the experience would just fade into the air. While absently stabbing his pancakes with a fork, Nero sat in misery. He wondered why the world was so different, and why he had to deal with all this self-help ridiculousness. In a flash of insight, he realized the answer. Was the world actually different? Yes, but all the self-help crap sounded the same. Because the lessons were the same. He knew how to do this. Countless TED talks, and articles, and examples were at his fingertips. ¡®Know yourself¡¯ was just as important in his old world, as it was here. The only difference was that in this new world, he could grow. In the old world, good mental health just decreased the chances of high blood pressure and stopped a person from relying on antacids. With determination, Nero stood up and downed what was left of his coffee. Walking over to the meditation mat in the corner which he had never used, he sat down. Turning off the lights through the link, Nero closed his eyes and faced his problems head on. Reviewing everything from the past few days took time. There was a lot to cover. Nero made peace with his actions in the arena. It wasn¡¯t his fault, and he knew that. His desire to live was more important to him than the life of a budding assassin. This world wasn¡¯t led by the weak, and he wouldn¡¯t be a casualty. If he had to kill again, he would. Nothing would stand between him and his future. His previous world was a battlefield, he just never fought. Here, he was in the middle of it. Facing that was difficult, but Nero firmed his heart. If combat were necessary, then his enemies would fall. Addressing his new nobility wasn¡¯t nearly as difficult. He¡¯d become rich. Vera was like a mother figure he¡¯d never really had. His old mom was great, but distant. Growing up, he knew that his mom didn¡¯t have high hopes for him. But Vera believed in Nero. It made Nero want to believe in himself. Nick was like an older brother. They were his family here. He had to get strong in order to protect them. House Walker would rise, and they would rise with him. As time passed, and Nero sat in contemplation, the essence in the air started to swirl. After over an hour of quiet meditation, the essence started to move the air. Nero felt his level approach. The weight on his soul was lifting. It was like he was climbing a mountain, but as he neared the top, the handholds were easier. In a crescendo of essence Nero felt the ¡®Ding¡¯ as he leveled. He could sense that he had more saved up, and that it wasn¡¯t over. Yet, as he panted, he had to open his eyes. His senses were humming. He could feel the air gently moving around the room. The sweat on his back was cold. Nero needed a break. Standing up on shaky legs, Nero decided on another shower. Checking his identity, he saw that he was now level 8. He had shot past the bottleneck, leveled, and gained almost 40% of another level in just a few hours. Stripping out of his sweat-soaked robes, Nero went to the bathroom. Standing in the hot water, Nero reflected on what he learned. Experience was just sitting there in his soul. He had to face it, understand it, and accept it. There was more to face. He knew that. But he wasn¡¯t ready. Rushing it was just as bad as ignoring it. Turning off the shower, Nero decided to see if his breakfast was still good, or if he had to make another trip to the cafeteria. Looking out the window, Nero saw the sun coming up outside. A new day was starting. Nero smiled and promised himself that he would be productive. He had magic to learn, and an assignment from his friend. After second breakfast, he¡¯d find out what ¡®essence density¡¯ was all about. Chapter 59 - Fear is a powerful motivator Captain Angelton stood with his hands on his hips looking around at the facility he was taking over. It had a wide courtyard, with training rings and workout equipment. There were obstacle courses, and training aids. Along the wall, there was even a full size shooting range. Surrounding the courtyard were three large buildings in a semi-circle pointing toward the training areas. Tall stone walls encapsulated the entire compound, and wooden gates twice the height of man were the only entrance. The ground was packed gray dirt, and only a few trees offered any color. The dull stone buildings looked like they could take a beating, and the windows were reinforced with metal. Everything here was designed for war. ¡®This will work,¡¯ he thought. The captain watched Sergeant Blackwood organizing the cooks and other staff. If there was one thing that man did well, it was organization. He may be lazy, and a complainer, but the man knew how to get things in order. Near the building on the right, the two hunter sergeants were organizing the training equipment. They had requested a lot of gear, both for training, and for outfitting the recruits before heading into the wilds. Captain Angelton appreciated their attention to detail, but wondered if the sergeants were just taking advantage of their budget. It wouldn¡¯t surprise him, as both Sergeants Peyton and Jackson were used to being sent into the field with minimal support. Their smiles as they went through the gear made Captain Angelton want to send them for some additional training. He didn¡¯t think anyone should enjoy their time at a training facility. Squashing his urge to eliminate joy on sight, the captain returned to his assessment of the compound. One building was for housing the recruits. One was for housing the staff and the trainers. The center building was the largest and was for command housing along with lecture halls, magic training, and the armory. Kneeling down, Captain Angelton ran his hand over the hard ground. He could feel the memory of all the people who had trained here. There was sweat and blood bonded to the earth. Skills would be easier to learn here. He opened his link and reviewed the dates when this compound was last in use. It had been resting for two years. Now it was ready again. Once more, the soil would see soldiers grow. Trying to imagine it, he was confronted by the image of Nero smirking in his head. The young man didn¡¯t fit the image Captain Angelton was forming in his mind. Imagining Nero training to exhaustion, developing bonds with recruits; Captain Angelton couldn¡¯t see that happening. Standing up, he dusted off his hands, and put away his concerns. He had a job to do. In two days the recruits would be here. Everything had to be ready. ----- Nero closed the book and leaned back in his chair. Rubbing his eyes with his palms, he took a minute to focus on reality again. Getting lost in what he was reading was great for comprehension, but not pleasant when he stopped. He forced himself to stand up and do some stretches to get the blood moving again. As he twisted his core back and forth, Nero thought about the general¡¯s presentation he had been forced to sit through. There was only one conclusion: Dorchester was in for a rough few years. The city would be surrounded by essence storms, a common occurrence during density shifts. Not to mention the numerous essence events and other such nonsense that will result in the wilds being swarmed with all manner of monsters and mutated beasts. Beast tides were complicated. Like everything here, essence influenced so many factors that predicting anything was useless. Nero was having trouble with the concept that animal populations could be influenced by an area¡¯s history. Nero finished his stretching, and hopped up and down a few times to finish waking up his body. Checking the time (13:15), he decided to get some lunch. A walk would do him some good. Rather than carry his satchel, he decided to just focus on digesting what he had read while he ate. The moment he left his room, he remembered why he had been hiding in his room. People in the hallway noticed him emerge. Immediately, all eyes were on Nero. Looking around, he just offered them a nod, and walked off to the cafeteria. Two steps later, he realized that he forgot to bring his dishes from breakfast. Stumbling, he felt a flash of indecision. Should he look like a fool and return to collect them? Or should he just continue on, preserving what was left of his dignity? Nero paused in the hallway, paralyzed by indecision. Recognizing the panic he felt, reminding him of his old life, he got angry. Turning around, he stomped back to his room and grabbed the breakfast dishes. He kept the frown on his face as he marched toward the cafeteria. ¡®Not here. I¡¯m not that guy anymore. I¡¯m Nero Walker now. I¡¯m a mage and a noble. They can stare and talk, but I am in charge of my actions. I¡¯ve always said that the opinions of others never bothered me, but here I¡¯ll make that true. I have more important concerns,¡¯ he told himself. Walking the hallways, Nero found it easier than he expected to ignore the looks and whispers. Embracing his new outlook, Nero returned to thinking about how essence and the environment influenced each other. Essence was everywhere. It was created, changed, and destroyed by meaning. Sapient beings created their own meaning with their center, their sense of self. Materials like rocks could form in areas of concentrated earth essence. Environments were built by conflicting essences interacting. Physical reality on this plane was really just coalesced essence. And that coalesced essence in turn reinforced the environment¡¯s identity. This story originates from a different website. Ensure the author gets the support they deserve by reading it there. Animals and plants in an area worked similarly. Unintelligent beings could be ¡®spawned¡¯ by the environment. Nero wasn¡¯t sure what a squirrel ¡®spawning¡¯ would look like, he found it difficult to imagine. The concept of everything being connected sounded so ¡®new-age¡¯ that Nero had to reread the chapter several times. The book had given a great hypothetical example of a tribe of wolves interacting with their environment: Imagine a forest that has had wolves for a long time. Hunters pass through, killing all the wolves. The forest spends essence refilling the wolves population. Now the ¡®imprint¡¯ of a forest full of wolves isn¡¯t as strong as it was before. Hunters kill all the wolves again. The cycle repeats until the forest forgets that it¡¯s supposed to have wolves. As Nero contemplated the hypothetical, he collected his lunch and found a seat in the busy cafeteria. He ignored the attention he was drawing, and quickly found a seat with some space around it. His face was a mask of concentration, and it was apparent to everyone that he was deep in thought. While he ate, he tried to make the hypothetical more complicated. The book had mentioned evolution, and how the meaning of what a wolf ¡®was¡¯ could change over time. Once wolves were spawned, they were not attached to the environment, so they could migrate. Over generations, they could imprint themselves into an environment. Ice wolves would exist in the tundra. Fire wolves near volcanoes. The environmental essence would shape them, as they shaped it. It was difficult, but Nero kept trying to add more scenarios to his hypothetical. Invasive plant species would take time to migrate, but they could. The book talked about this taking hundreds of years, and since people lived so long, they had the data to back it up. The time-frames were mind-blowing. Understanding the essence cycle was essential for understanding the things that disrupted it. Beast tides, dungeons, monster spawns, planar gates, and tons of other things all affected, and in turn were effected, by local essence conditions. Of particular interest to Nero was a throw-away passage that differentiated between monsters and beasts. Monsters were animals from other planes. Their identity pattern was lodged in essence knots that converted local identity into monster spawns. Over time, those monsters could start to imprint their identity into an area. Eventually, the knot would unravel on it¡¯s own. The aftermath would be a population of beasts, but fully adapted to this plane. Again, this happened over hundreds of years. In the meantime, hordes of monsters could build up in an area, devastating the local environment. Beasts started off as animal spawns from ¡®this¡¯ plane. Time was the main factor that altered them. They could be monsterized by getting their identity warped. It could happen in places with weak barriers between the planes. However, usually beasts were similar in pattern. The world considered any type of ¡®wolf¡¯, a ¡®wolf¡¯, regardless of the type of wolf it was. But over time, they could absorb essence, and mutate from animals into beasts. The were so many factors that it amounted to a ¡®chance¡¯ of it happening. Nero realized that he was staring at an empty plate. Bussing his dishes, he headed back to his room. During his lunch, his frown had gone from ¡®angry¡¯ to ¡®concerned¡¯. Memories of the general¡¯s presentation were difficult to ignore after what Nero had read. The essence flows were creating beasts and monsters at alarming rates. A beast tide was imminent. Hordes of mutated predators would spawn. And even with the environment churning out animals for them to eat, there wouldn¡¯t be enough food. Groups of 10 would grow to hundreds. Within weeks, those groups would join together to form thousand strong herds. Their mutations would be working to prevent infighting, and they would strip the environment bare. It was this reality¡¯s ¡®reset¡¯. The descriptions of a beast tide only amounted to a page in a book. But Nero had looked through the link for more information. He had seen bears the size of houses. Panthers large enough to jump hundreds of feet. Mutated Hawks the size of 747¡¯s. Thinking of the walls of Dorchester, Nero wondered if it would be enough. Nero wasn¡¯t sure how much time they had, but hopefully it would be enough. Villages would have to be emptied. Resources stockpiled. Weapons prepared. Dorchester had survived beast-tides before, but never one empowered by a density shift. At least not according to the records Nero found in the link. Across the kingdom, it wasn¡¯t uncommon for cities to fall. They would be rebuilt years later, but the thought of Dorchester falling chilled Nero to the bone. When Nero arrived at his room, he decided that he needed to make a ping. Opening a connection, he sent out a request to Nick. As the connection opened, Nero spoke first, ¡°Hey Nick, are you still interested in recording my star usage? I don¡¯t want to sit on them anymore. After leveling last night, I want to put my star to use.¡± Nero felt Nick sigh. ¡°No Nero, you¡¯re too much of an outlier to be useful for progress-tracking. I think what we already have will be plenty. Just focus on your leveling. I¡¯m guessing you read up on density shifts. We have some time, but it¡¯s going to be bad,¡± he said quietly. Nero nodded, and replied, ¡°I didn¡¯t understand everything I read, but that much I figured out. I¡¯m assuming plans are in motion to prepare the city?¡± ¡°Yes, everyone is aware. Troops and supplies are being sent from nearby cities, but it will be months before they arrive. We don¡¯t know how long we have. It could be six months, or one. Analysis teams are being created to answer that question. Just focus on your training. Vera said she sent you the schedule,¡± said Nick. ¡°I saw the ping, but I haven¡¯t read it. Don¡¯t worry, I¡¯m on it,¡± said Nero. ¡°You have one more day on your own. Study hard,¡± Nick said and then cut the connection. Standing in the middle of his room, Nero was deep in thought. He didn¡¯t enjoy the seriousness of the conversation he just had. It was amazing how much can change by just knowing what was coming. This morning he was happy and feeling like the world was full of possibilities. Now he had something specific to prepare for. Nero felt a disturbance in the room¡¯s essence, and his eyes looked toward it¡¯s epicenter. A heartbeat later, a bright light flashed and a satchel fell onto his desk. Eyes wide, he cautiously walked toward the satchel and he saw a folded note attached to it. His curiosity overrode his caution, and he picked up the note. Nero, Here are the books you requested. Start with ¡®Magic for Adventurers: Essentials Vol.1¡¯. Don¡¯t worry so much about the next few months. There is plenty of time. Live in the moment, prepare for the future, learn from the past. You have tonight and tomorrow to study. Be ready for training. Follow your path with conviction, Jennings Smiling, Nero carefully folded the note and set it aside. Opening the satchel, he saw a bunch of tiny books. Curious, he put his hand inside to grab one. Once his hand crossed the threshold of the pocket, he saw it distort. It was like looking at a stick going underwater. His hand seemed to shrink. The bag was magical! Pawing through the books, he found the book Jennings recommended. Nero placed the note inside the first page, and closed it. He wanted to keep the note safe, as a memento. Hopping onto his bed, Nero ran his hand over the cover. It was dark red and made from thick leather. Gold embossed lettering ran along the side. Sturdy and solid, the pages were strong. This was a tome for adventurers. This was just what Nero needed to snap out of his funk. With a grin, he opened the book with reverence. It was time for another step forward. Chapter 60 - Getting things ready is always a pain Setting down the barbell, Cathleen Averett gave Vera the side-eye and shouted over the noise, ¡°Why me?¡± The training hall they were in was busy. It was the size of a warehouse, and every inch was put to use. Cheering people surrounded training circles which were being used for matches. Rows of gym equipment were clanging while people grunted with effort. People were running on a track that circled the gym along a balcony. Huge skylights, augmented by hanging lamps, provided healthy light. The air was alive with energy. Psyche¡¯s of people pushing their limits reinforced each other. Vera hated it, but recognized that some people enjoyed this type of thing. Standing in her robes with her palms folded in front of her, Vera replied loudly, ¡°You expressed interest in his training. I have secured a slot for a bodyguard to train alongside him. Nick will be there to aid in his magic training, but I¡¯ll be relying on the army for his physical development. I¡¯d like someone there with his best interests in mind. And Nero specifically asked about you.¡± Cathleen chuckled as she drank deeply from her water bottle. She bent over and picked up her towel. As she started walking off toward the lockers, she said over her shoulder, ¡°Wait for me outside. You¡¯re buying me lunch if you want to keep talking.¡± Thirty minutes later, Vera was sitting on a bench outside the Center training facility. As she waited for Cathleen, Vera used her link to speed run through paperwork. Over the years, she had put a great deal of effort into growing her pillar of ¡®efficiency¡¯. Where most people would have chosen to enhance their strikes, or casting ability, she focused on mental efficiency. When it came to paperwork, she was precision incarnate. Unfortunately, she finished all the paperwork she currently had available. Her remaining tasks would require her to make some pings. Talking to people was such a bother. Case in point, she was still waiting for Ms Averett to finish getting dressed. As her impatience grew, she decided to start on her contact list. Luckily, before Vera could open her first connection, Cathleen came strutting out of the training hall doors. Once again dressed in her work robes, she waved to Vera and offered her a smug smile. It was obvious that she had taken her time getting ready. Vera held in her irritation. Standing up, she waited patiently for Cathleen to complete her victory lap. ¡°So, I¡¯m ready when you are,¡± said Cathleen. Offering the woman a blank look, Vera turned and started off toward the entrance to the Center. Turning her head to Cathleen, she asked, ¡°Have you given any thought to whether you¡¯d like to take the position?¡± Walking alongside Vera, Cathleen ignored the question and asked, ¡°What¡¯s the pay?¡± Vera responded, ¡°Standing elite guard pay. 3000 valens a week. Standard penalty clauses would apply.¡± Ms. Averett replied quickly, ¡°You know that I am very close with many people on the arena circuit. I¡¯ve heard about Mr. Walker¡¯s recent windfall. I think 10 thousand a week is more like it.¡± Vera¡¯s patience was at an end. She was not going to waste any more time on this. Stopping abruptly, she said, ¡°That¡¯s Lord Walker, Ms. Averett. The entire point of me asking you to take the job was predicated on you having his best interests in mind. If you plan to play your own game, I have plenty of other pieces I could use.¡± Cathleen turned to face Vera, placing her hands on her hips and flashing a wide smile. ¡°Can any of your other options fight as well as I can?¡± Not intimidated in the least, Vera replied, ¡°No. But at the moment, I trust them more than I do you. And now that I realize that, I believe we¡¯re done. I apologize for wasting your time.¡± Offering Cathleen a nod, she started to walk away. A few paces away, Vera heard Cathleen ask, ¡°Is he as promising as I think he is?¡± Turning back to face Cathleen, Vera said, ¡°He learns faster than anyone I¡¯ve ever met. Whether you¡¯re referring to magic, tactical analysis, or politics, his talent is monstrous. His only failing is that he looks for plots everywhere. If he doesn¡¯t trust you, he won¡¯t listen to you. He¡¯ll first look for corroboration before he believes anything you say. Your attitude is a poor fit. He warned me, and I didn¡¯t listen. It almost makes me wonder if he planned it. Putting us at odds in order to give himself breathing room.¡± Cathleen cocked her head to the side and asked, ¡°Is he really that sly?¡± Vera shook her head and said, ¡°I don¡¯t know. I can¡¯t read him. But based on his winning streak, I¡¯d say yes.¡± Cathleen closed the distance so they didn¡¯t have to speak so loudly. ¡°It¡¯s his eyes. I noticed them when you first introduced him. He sees the entire world as a threat,¡± she said and then crossed her arms and her face turned serious. ¡°Several days ago, I told him that I work at the Center to help bring out the potential of Oglivarch¡¯s youth. When we spoke, I warned him that he could be a demon or a god, and I would help him find his path. I always keep my word, and training him to meet his potential might be very interesting. I¡¯ll take the job,¡± she said while staring unblinking into Vera¡¯s eyes. Vera responded quietly, ¡°Will you put his interests before your own? Will you serve Lord Walker as he walks through the wilds? Can I entrust his safety to you?¡± Without breaking her stare, Cathleen said, ¡°I will serve House Walker in duty and faith while the training you mentioned is going on. I will train him as I was trained. After that we will renegotiate. That¡¯s the best I can do.¡± Vera nodded. ¡°That¡¯s enough. I¡¯ll send you the details. Training starts tomorrow. I¡¯d tell you to be prepared, but I¡¯ve known you for over 40 years and I¡¯ve never seen you unprepared,¡± she said. Cathleen¡¯s mask broke and she smiled. ¡°Alright, enough of this serious talk. Let¡¯s have that lunch you owe me. You can resume plotting the downfall of your enemies in an hour.¡± Vera chuckled, and they started walking off together. Leaning over, Cathleen asked, ¡°So how much did he actually make off that pathetic excuse for an assassination challenge? No one would tell me, they just grimaced and said ¡®a lot¡¯.¡± Vera couldn¡¯t help it, she started laughing. ----- Nero was sitting on his meditation mat, trying to go over all the information he had learned since he woke up. It was a lot. He was always a fast reader, but he usually only focused on getting the ¡®gist¡¯ of what he read. Maybe it was his increased stats, or his newfound desire to learn. Either way, his retention was nothing short of amazing. It made him wonder if this was what being smart felt like. Feeling like he was close to leveling, Nero refocused and cleared his mind of anything but his goals. His celebrity status wasn¡¯t important. His gains weren¡¯t important. His wealth wasn¡¯t important. It was all just a means to an end. That end being his mastery of magic. Nero focused on the spell forms he had learned. They felt etched into his mind. He visualized casting them. He imagined the scenarios where he would use them. He prepared himself for the future. He felt ready. As the essence in the room swirled, Nero felt his new star coalesce in his soul. His nerves were tingling, and he felt high. ¡®This feeling is never going to get old,¡¯ he thought as he opened his identity along with his stats.
Name Nero Walker Level 9
Race Human Growth 0%
Tier 1 Condition 100%
Age 14 Center 64%
Body 1 Mind 4
Soul 1 Confluence 10
Stars 2 Pillars 0/0
Body 1
Base Operative Level Stress
Presence 9 10.8 8.4
Durability 7 8.4 This story originates from a different website. Ensure the author gets the support they deserve by reading it there. 2.1
Recovery 13 15.6 14.9
Speed 11 13.2 4.1
Adaptability 24 28.8 17.6
Power 8 9.6 0.8
Mind 4
Base Operative Level Stress
Weight 26 46.8 1.2
Control 29 52.2 4.6
Field 23 41.4 7.2
Precision 39 70.2 9.1
Endurance 46 82.8 5.6
Focus 48 86.4 2.1
Soul 1
Base Operative Level Stress
Size 26 31.2 6.8
Density 101 121.2 1.3
Intensity 76 91.2 1.7
Pressure 23 27.6 8.5
Harmony 3 3.6 47.2
Adaptability 270 324 1.1
It had been a while since Nero had looked at his stats. His level stress would dictate if his base stats went up. While he hadn¡¯t focused on training anything other than magic, he¡¯d been through a lot. At least, he thought he had. According to what Nick and Jennings said, his level stress was still being affected by his recent entry into this world. Regardless, he needed to use his stars now. There wasn¡¯t enough time to see if a few push-ups would change anything. In fact, Nero could feel the ¡®soul bloat¡¯ that Nick had warned him about. It wasn¡¯t debilitating, but it seemed much more difficult to ignore than when he had 3 stars saved up. If this trend continued, he¡¯d have to spend his stars the moment he got them. Feeling like he had to make a decision, he focused on sending a star into his soul stat. As he felt the stat open, it was like he was pouring from one container into another. His awareness blossomed like a flower. His soul stretched out to feel the world around him. The essence danced across his metaphysical body as he floated. If it weren¡¯t for his body, he might be able to slip free from this plane of existence and rejoin to the souls in the upper planes. All too soon, the feeling ended, and Nero was returned to his body. His senses were dulled once more. For a moment, reality was a weight he wanted to reject. But cooler heads prevailed, and he looked at his gains. While his body and mind hadn¡¯t changed, his soul stat had grown.
Soul 2
Base Operative Level Stress
Size 29 40.6 0
Density 101 141.4 0
Intensity 76 106.4 0
Pressure 27 37.8 0
Harmony 24 33.6 0
Adaptability 270 378 0
It looked like the books were right in one respect, at least as far as Nero could tell. Half of the level stress would be applied to the base, with the amount applied going down the higher a person''s base stats. The falloff was supposed to start when base stats reached 20. It was his stress levels that were way out of the norm. Getting level stress over 10 was considered extremely difficult. People could train for years, and only gain a few points in level stress. Yet, Nero didn¡¯t seem to have any problems doing it. Nero¡¯s mind was still growing fast, and he was growing his body without effort. He knew this was temporary, but Nero was happy with his progress anyway. The numbers made him feel like his work was appreciated by the powers that be. Taking a deep breath, he sent his last star into his body. His senses came alive, and he felt like he belonged to the world. He felt solid. It was like he became denser. The pores on his skin opened to let the essence sink in. Nero felt the essence shield he kept constantly active turn-off, as if someone had removed the battery. His body had pulled in the essence, and still reached for more. The feeling faded, and Nero opened his eyes. His stomach roiled and he felt like he was going to puke. Not trusting his legs, he rolled onto his hands and knees, focusing on keeping hold of his dinner. ¡®Never again. The moment I get my next star, I¡¯m using it,¡¯ he thought. It took a few minutes for his stomach to settle, but eventually Nero returned to his seat on the meditation mat. Looking at his body stats, he could see some real growth. Most likely it was due to how low his numbers were to begin with.
Body 2
Base Operative Level Stress
Presence 11 15.4 0
Durability 8 11.2 0
Recovery 21 29.4 0
Speed 13 18.2 0
Adaptability 32 44.8 0
Power 8 11.2 0
Without any other ideas, Nero attributed his adaptability and recovery to all the damage he was doing to himself while training his magic. The body was the medium his mind used to create his psychic field. And if there was one thing Nero constantly kept active, it was his psychic field. Reaching out, Nero practically caused an essence vacuum in the room while creating a new essence shield. Without it, he felt naked. Expecting essence to rush in to fill the void, he was surprised to see the flows just calmly fill the empty space. Thinking about it, Nero decided it made sense. Otherwise mages would use that as a technique to strip the available ambient essence temporarily during combat. Tired and sore, Nero stood up. He felt gross. His star usage had made him sweat, and he was still feeling the after effects of the changes. Stripping off his clothes, he forced himself to trudge toward the shower. Under the hot water he repeated his vow that he would henceforth use the stars as soon as he got them. The heat eased his sore joints, and loosened his shoulders. Nero spent some time luxuriating in the above average water pressure. 30 minutes later, he was in bed with freshly brushed teeth and looking forward to a full night¡¯s sleep. He hadn¡¯t set the alarm. The default was fine with him, as he couldn¡¯t be bothered to turn it off. Staring at the ceiling, he thought about the upcoming day. He had a lot of spells to master, and books to read. If he really buckled down, it was possible that he could level again. Jennings said that his leveling speed wouldn¡¯t start slowing down until after he reached level 10. As Nero was letting his thoughts run wild, his eyes snapped open when he realized what hitting level 10 meant. Pillars. He was going to get to choose his pillar. ¡®How the hell do pillars work again? It had something to do with choosing from options you¡¯ve cultivated or something,¡¯ he thought with a scowl. Pushing it out of his mind, Nero went to sleep leaving tomorrow¡¯s problems for tomorrow. Chapter 61 - The view from the top. Lord Cosgrave was enjoying her dinner. It had been some time since she had been able to spend some time with any of her consorts. Tonight, she was dining with two of them, Dustin Mosgrave and Terrance Blackwood. She¡¯d been with them both for years, and everyone was relatively sure that Dustin was the father of her current children. Graciously, City Lord Heleema Cosgrave didn¡¯t hold that against him. Her children¡¯s failures were their own, and she didn¡¯t blame him in the least. The dining room they were currently using was cozy, and the table was not overly large. Dim lights gave the room a romantic ambiance, and the wine was flowing freely. Rank had been disregarded, and the conversation was easy for all of them. Leaning back in his chair, Terrance said, ¡°I agree that Derek is a lost cause. The boy has always been an idiot. Remember when he wanted to have that kennel master executed because he couldn¡¯t figure out how to get the hounds to listen to him? He was maybe 7 or 8?¡± Chuckling, Dustin replied, ¡°He¡¯s not an idiot, he just refuses to think. Those are two different things. An idiot would learn poorly, but Derek learns the wrong lessons well. He chooses the conclusions that he wants, then picks the facts that support his position. It¡¯s our fault for not stomping on that trait early.¡± Heleema smiled at the two men. They both cared greatly for the children. Hopefully, that trend will continue with the new brood she planned on having. They were both accomplished men, and she appreciated them for more than their duties in the bedroom. Currently, Dustin was doing a wonderful job running the keep. She had put him in charge of staff appointments and scheduling. The man was a wizard with a clipboard. He wasn¡¯t very powerful, but he was reliable. She would miss him when he was gone, she could already see that age creep was starting to affect him. Terrance on the other hand was still as attractive as ever. Technically, he was her liaison with the military. However, mostly he was her eyes and ears among the guards and soldiers in the city. If someone held a weapon while at work, Terry knew about them. He was a registered problem solver, and it was comforting to have his unwavering support. Because of his duties, he spent a lot of time training. He was leveling well, and Heleema expected him to be around for a long time. Terrance interrupted her thoughts. He said, ¡°It¡¯s Deidre I¡¯m worried about. Normally she¡¯s very smart, but she let¡¯s herself be dragged into Derek¡¯s plans too often. Even if she seems to have let her grudge with Lord Walker go, I think she¡¯s still planning something. I heard some whispers today.¡± He finished quietly, and then sipped his wine with a frown. Heleema shook her head in disappointment. ¡°I¡¯ve said my piece, but I think she¡¯s ignoring my council. I don¡¯t know if it¡¯s due to the shame of having to be saved during the Noble War, or vengeance on behalf of Derek, but she¡¯s still angry,¡± she said. Dustin spoke up, ¡°Are you going to send her to start her own branch too?¡± Heleema looked at Dustin, trying to see what he felt about the option. The man¡¯s face was blank, and she couldn¡¯t tell if he approved of how she handled Derek. Rather than play word games, she just asked him, ¡°Are you angry about how I handled Derek?¡± Dustin shook his head. ¡°I¡¯ve known the children since they were born. Several of us have treated them as our own. I love both Derek and Deidre a great deal. But I¡¯m not blind to their faults. You did what you had to do for House Cosgrave. He nearly pitted us against the royals, all for the sake of his pride. You did the right thing, don¡¯t doubt yourself,¡± he said, his voice filled with compassion. Terrance chimed in, ¡°I agree. And if Deidre follows his example, she¡¯ll have to be cut off as well. You need an heir that isn¡¯t impulsive. One that thinks things through. You know they were only your first children. You have many chances to try again. Don¡¯t worry so much, it will work itself out.¡± Frowning in thought, Heleema asked, ¡°Terry, what whispers did you hear?¡± Sitting comfortably in his chair, Terrance sipped his wine and replied, ¡°Nothing¡¯s confirmed. But I think someone is looking for a hunter team that would be willing to cause an accident for Lord Walker out in the wilds. It may not even be Deidre, but I can¡¯t think of anyone else that would put their foot into that trap.¡± Dustin exhaled deeply and said, ¡°I had such high hopes for the girl. Is there any way you can stall the search, maybe give whoever is behind it a chance to calm down and think things through?¡± Shaking his head, Terrance replied, ¡°Right now, it¡¯s just people talking. I could look into it, but then I¡¯d know about it. I don¡¯t know if that would be any better.¡± Heleema was tired of the subject. Her daughter wasn¡¯t her concern anymore. ¡°Terry, tomorrow morning, contact General Branson and tell him what you heard. Make sure he relays to Lord Walker that House Cosgrave issued the warning. Let¡¯s put some distance between us and the plot. Even if Deidre is behind it, she¡¯ll have covered her tracks well enough.¡± Terrance nodded and his link lit up to indicate that he was leaving himself a note. Heleema stood up from the table. Picking up her glass of wine, she leaned forward to grab the bottle. ¡°Now let us put this matter aside for the moment and concentrate on something more important. We have some new heirs to make,¡± she said with a smirk. Grinning, the two men stood up to follow her out of the dining room. They had a lot of very enjoyable work to do. ----- Nero had known that Vera and Nick were rich, but he didn¡¯t know that they were ¡®noble rich¡¯. Looking around their mansion, he marveled at how different the architecture was from the center and the keep. While the keep was medieval stone with a gold gilding, and the Center was wood walls with cathedral-like ceilings, their mansion was something like concrete wrapped in glass. Tall windows were everywhere, and Nero could see their massive estate stretching into the distance. Although he knew that the estate was near the city, he didn¡¯t know if it was inside the walls. There was a treeline in the distance, with gardens and fountains in between. Large grass sections were cut with patterns while stone walkways crisscrossed from one end to the other. The sun was beautiful as it set behind the mountains in the distance. Sipping his water, Nero looked around the room he was in. The tall ceilings had strips of essence lights providing the room with a warm glow. The white and black tiles on the floor, would not look out of place in any of the fancy ¡®cribs¡¯ from Nero¡¯s old world. Artwork was on the walls, but it was not excessive. Instead of scenes of battle, or victory, they were landscapes of magic forests and fantasy environments. Nero supposed that here, they were actually places he could visit. What use was fantasy, when your world was already full of wonder. Nick walked into the room and said, ¡°Sorry about that. Dinner will be ready soon. Do you need anything?¡± Shaking his head, Nero replied, ¡°No. I¡¯m good. I have to ask though, where are we? Are we still inside the city walls? And if not, are we safe?¡± Pouring himself a whiskey from a wet-bar along the wall, Nick chuckled and said, ¡°Yes, we¡¯re safe. Don¡¯t worry. I showed you a map of the city once, didn¡¯t I?¡± Nero thought about it and said, ¡°Yeah, kind of. You showed me an overhead view, but I think it was only a part of the city. It definitely demonstrated how big the city was. But I don¡¯t remember there being any place with this much open space.¡± Nick smiled and walked over to Nero. Moving to stand next to him, Nick waved his hand, and a hologram of the city appeared on the floor in front of them. It even showed some of the mountains that the city sat up against. The scale was so massive, that the walls were only an inch high. The city rose and fell with the uneven land. Some sections were able to overlook others, but the distance was so great that it would require skyscrapers to get a nice view. Nero looked closely, and saw that the inner ring had several sections that were full of greenery and forests. He assumed they must be the areas for noble estates. Looking closely, Nero found the keep. Although it was so small he couldn¡¯t see the features, he recognized the walls and the fact that the city was organized in a pinwheel around it. As he stepped through the hologram to get a closer look, Nero was amazed at the planning that must have gone into creating something like this. Ensure your favorite authors get the support they deserve. Read this novel on the original website. Looking back at Nick, he asked, ¡°Why don¡¯t you guys build ¡®up¡¯ rather than ¡®out¡¯? Taller buildings would provide better views.¡± Turning back to the hologram, Nero pointed down and said, ¡°There are towers here that aren¡¯t that tall.¡± Nick burst out laughing. He said, ¡°Nero, think of the scale of the walls you passed through. How tall were they? Compare that to what you¡¯re looking at. If we built taller, it wouldn¡¯t be economical. Over time, Dorchester will grow taller, like every other city in Oglivarch. I don¡¯t have an accurate representation of Hennings, the capital, in my link. But, if I did, you¡¯d see buildings tall enough to reach the clouds. Dorchester is less than 2000 years old. It¡¯s still growing.¡± Taking a deep drink of his water, Nero felt a little sick. This was just too large to comprehend. He knew that a couple million people called Dorchester home, but ¡®seeing¡¯ it was different. Nero walked over to the area near the mountains and knelt down. It looked like there were some industrial sectors and the gates in the area went right into the mountain. The wall bent along mountain, creating a lip that protected the city. He¡¯d never seen anything like it. Quietly, Nero asked, ¡°Are all cities in Oglivarch this size?¡± Nick seemed happy with Nero¡¯s discomfort. ¡°Yup. Dorchester is nothing special. I wish I could show you Hennings. Now THAT is a city. It¡¯s a tier 4 city with planar pockets and soaring spires. If it were displayed in the same scale as this,¡± he gestured to his hologram of Dorchester, ¡°it would be larger than this room.¡± Nero stood up, and nodded as if he just realized something. ¡°This is why there is so much money in shipping. Goods have to travel from the gates to everywhere in the city. It would take too much effort to transport everything, so it has to move along these highways,¡± Nero said as he pointed out little lines that went through the city. The pattern looked like a web that spanned the city. Nick walked up and said, ¡°They are trains Nero. Shipping concerns have storage houses that collect the stock and ship it along the train lines throughout the city. Transportation costs are one of the biggest drains on essence crystals in the city.¡± Just then, Vera walked in and saw what Nick and Nero were doing. Smiling at the two men looking over Dorchester, she enjoyed the visual metaphor for a moment before speaking. ¡°Alright gentlemen, let¡¯s have dinner and go over the plan for tomorrow,¡± she said. Nick looked up at her and smiled. After he waved away the illusion of the city, he started toward her. ¡°Thank you dear. I¡¯m sure dinner will not disappoint,¡± he said. Nero hurried to follow them out of the room and toward the dining room. On the way, Nero made sure to appreciate the tastefully decorated hallways and sheer size of the mansion. ¡°Do you guys have a staff? This place seems a little large for just the two of you,¡± asked Nero with obvious curiosity. Snorting as if the question was too stupid to answer, Vera said nothing. Nick however, took pity on Nero and said, ¡°Of course we have a staff. But it¡¯s after hours and we value our privacy. Once dinner is made, the cooks are the last to leave. If you were here during the day, you¡¯d see maids and butlers aplenty. Outside we have a large staff of gardeners and landscape architects. Many of them live here, but they¡¯re in a different wing. Every house has a different preference, but we tend to like to do things ourselves.¡± Nero nodded as if that cleared things up. However, in his head, Nero was still confused. Did they really make enough at their jobs to pay for all this? That seemed unlikely. Soon enough, they were at a small dining room table. The room itself wasn¡¯t exceptionally large, but it was very well appointed. The furniture was sparse, but of high quality. Floor to ceiling windows looked out onto a courtyard, and pale green drapes added to the comfortable atmosphere. Nero imagined it would be beautiful in the morning. As they ate, Vera did most of the talking. She told Nero about what she had been up to over the past few days. Vera had successfully parlayed Nero¡¯s arena winnings into a 15% share of the arena. Technically, he shouldn¡¯t have received such a high percentage, but she had argued their inability to pay out immediately deserved compensation. Nero was happy to learn that he had caused them to change their betting policies to cover eventualities like his in the future. Now that he had a stake in the arena, he was glad they wouldn¡¯t be repeating their mistake. Checking his link, Nero saw the new accounts that were linked to him. ¡°How much do you think I¡¯ll be making from the arena?¡± he asked. Vera took a sip of her wine, and replied, ¡°Around 284 valens annually. That¡¯s just a guess though. I based the estimate on the arena¡¯s reported annual net earnings.¡± Nero frowned in confusion. ¡°That doesn¡¯t make sense. And, when you just said ¡®valens¡¯, it didn¡¯t sound right,¡± he said. Nick chimed in. ¡°Interesting! This is the ¡®Yenning effect¡¯ in action. Everyone takes it for granted, but it must seem very odd to you,¡± he said excitedly. Still confused, Nero asked, ¡°What¡¯s the ¡®Yenning effect¡¯?¡± Nick set down his fork and focused on his upcoming lecture. Taking the tone of a teacher, he said, ¡°The ¡®Yenning effect¡¯ was first pro-¡± Making it as obvious as possible, Nero turned to Vera and spoke over Nick¡¯s lecture, ¡°What¡¯s the ¡®Yenning effect¡¯?¡± As Nick ¡®harrumphed¡¯, Vera chuckled and replied, ¡°It¡¯s what happens when you use a common word that is shorthand for something with multiple meanings. Using our conversation as the example, let¡¯s talk about ¡®valens¡¯. When I said ¡®valens¡¯, I was referring specifically to lordly valens. Each lordly valen is worth ten thousand common valens. When someone says ¡®valens¡¯, the detail of which tier of valens their talking about is imparted through the essence in the air. You don¡¯t have to be specific. Have you really not run across this yet? It happens all the time?¡± Nero tried to think about it. ¡°I don¡¯t think so. Would I even notice it?¡± he asked. Nodding, she replied, ¡°Definitely. You noticed right away that we were talking about two different things. You can¡¯t miss it. Usually, you come across it when people talk about units of measure in order to be precise. It can also come up when using some common terms when addressing people. Think of the variations of what a person could mean when they say ¡®soldier¡¯, or even ¡®you¡¯.¡± Nero asked, ¡°I know that we talked about money before. You used terms like millions and thousands, why didn¡¯t you use these different ¡®valens¡¯ then?¡± Vera cocked her head to the side, ¡°You asked specifically how many common valens you had coming to you. I thought you were trying to conceptualize it, and I followed suit. It makes more sense now that I know you had never heard about the tiers. It goes by titles. ¡®1 royal valen¡¯ is ¡®100 dukely valens¡¯ or ¡®10,000 lordly valens¡¯ or ''1,000,000 noble valens'' or finally, ¡®100,000,000 common valens¡¯. You just multiply a common valen by 100 for every level. Get it?¡± Nodding, Nero thought that was simple enough. But, he found the fact that everyone could automatically imply subtext based on what they were thinking about when they spoke was hard to imagine. As he tried to wrap his head around the concept, Nero thought of something he wanted to test. ¡°What do you hear when I say this room is about 20 feet wide?¡± he asked. Vera chuckled, and Nick nearly squeaked. With a wide smile, Nick said, ¡°I hear ¡®feet¡¯, but the foot your talking about isn¡¯t an Oglivarch foot. Our foot is based off our first emperor, while your ¡®foot¡¯ is tiny in comparison.¡± Nick and Nero wasted about 10 minutes going back and forth until Nero finally pieced together their measuring system. When he realized that it was basically very similar to the metric system having a baby with the imperial system, Nero got mad. Proper mad. Everything was called a unit. And everything was based off three, which worked out to being extremely simple, just weird. A foot was either called a foot or unit, and was what everything was based off. Divide it by three and you have a ¡®tri-unit¡¯. Every time you divide it, you add an exponent. So ¡®1 unit¡¯ is ¡®3 tri-units¡¯ or ¡®9 tri^2-units¡¯ or ¡®27 tri^3-units¡¯, etc. Going up it¡¯s ¡®1 unit¡¯ is ¡®3 trip-units¡¯ or ¡®9 trip^2-units¡¯ or ¡®27 trip^3 units¡¯, etc. All the while, you just use the term ¡®units¡¯ and what you mean is applied by the ¡®Yenning effect¡¯. Nero understood it. He hated it. But he understood it. It seemed completely arbitrary, while being ridiculously specific. Just imagining someone saying, ¡®I need you to cut this board to 1 unit 4 units¡¯, was infuriating. When Nero described why he was angry, both Vera and Nick laughed until Nick started to turn red. Nero tried to focus on the original question he wanted answered. ¡°So since I wasn¡¯t paying attention originally, tell me again how much I¡¯ll get from the arena,¡± he asked Vera with annoyance clear in his tone. Vera caught her breath, and took a sip of her water. Then she said, ¡°Around 284 valens.¡± Nero could now hear the conversion to lordly valens in his head. Nero¡¯s eyes widened. ¡°Isn¡¯t that more than our shipping company will make in profit for a whole year?¡± he asked. Nodding, she replied with a grin, ¡°The arena brings in billions of common valens a year. Keep in mind, it will still take over 200 years before they pay back what they owe you.¡± Nero gulped. Taking a large drink of water, Nero felt a pit in his stomach. All these numbers and details were starting to make him queasy. He needed to simplify it. ¡°So I don¡¯t have to worry about money, and my estate doesn¡¯t have to fire anyone now?¡± he asked. Vera nodded and replied, ¡°Yes, you¡¯re running at a profit now.¡± Nero leaned back in his chair, relieved. ¡°Fine. Let me know if that changes, and let me know if you know of a trustworthy accountant. I don¡¯t want to think about the taxes and crap I¡¯ll have to deal with. I¡¯m going to do what rich people are supposed to do: hire people to do the things I don¡¯t want to deal with. Is there contract magic or something? How will I know if the person I hire is trustworthy?¡± Nero started working himself back into a panic. Luckily, Nick interrupted Nero¡¯s spiral by speaking up, ¡°Nero, calm down. It¡¯s not something you have to worry about now. You only have to focus on your training. Tomorrow we head to the training facility, and that needs to be your only concern. Let Vera handle everything else. She is a wizard with paperwork, and you can trust her with your life.¡± Nodding, Nero pushed the concerns he wasn¡¯t ready to deal with into the back of his mind. Nick was right, he had bigger things to worry about. Remembering the information on density shifts he read, Nero thought to himself, ¡°Maybe I¡¯ll get lucky and Dorchester will get flattened in the next few years. Then I won¡¯t have to worry about any of this crap.¡± Chapter 62 - Getting dropped off by Dad, and having him stay. It was night and the facility''s lights were on full blast. The entire grounds were lit up as though the sun were out. People were rushing in and out of the buildings, completing the last minute tasks which needed to be done before the morning. They had less than 15 hours before the recruits started to arrive. Captain Angelton stood in the middle of the training field and was going over the paperwork in his clipboard. Checking the lists, he looked at the groups of people hustling to finish their preparations. The corners of his mouth almost made a smile as he appreciated the efficiency of every man and woman under his command. Everyone here was part of the army, and each had trained in their respective positions for years. From the cooks to the equipment managers, everyone knew what they were doing. ¡°Captain! Recruit Averett reporting as ordered,¡± said a voice from behind him. Nearly jumping, Angelton turned quickly to address whoever had managed to sneak up on him. There he saw Cathleen Averett standing at attention with her fist to her chest, doing an impersonation of a soldier saluting. ¡®How the hell did she sneak up on me? I didn¡¯t feel her psyche at all. But now it¡¯s like she was always there? Maybe some kind of stealth ability? A pillar?¡± he thought with a frown on his face. ¡°You¡¯re not a soldier. The salute is unnecessary,¡± he said. Looking down, he could see a large bag next to her. Apparently, she was here early for training. Looking back to meet her stare, his eyes narrowed and he asked, ¡°Why are you here? There are no orders demanding your presence. This is a private training facility.¡± His voice was iron, and his annoyance was clear in his tone. Instead of being intimidated, she looked up at the giant of a man and matched his glare. Her lips curled into a smile as she said, ¡°I¡¯m here under the orders of Vera Salvatore-Verena, of House Walker. I¡¯m to be Lord Walker¡¯s bodyguard and trainer. I¡¯ve arrived early to prepare lodgings for my lord, and to get the lay of the land. Which building is the bunkhouse?¡± Captain Angelton¡¯s eyes widened and he felt his confusion turn to panic. He knew of the Averetts. They were a northern family of nobles. Yet, they didn¡¯t focus on politics, their focus was war. There were many branches of their house and thousands of Averetts were spread across the kingdom. He hadn¡¯t known this Averett was capable of being a bodyguard. ¡°Don¡¯t you work as a den mother in the Center dorms?¡± he asked in confusion. Her smile was all teeth, and she replied in a cheery voice, ¡°I quit. Mrs. Salvatore offered me a chance to help a young warrior on his path. I aim to make him reach his potential. We can¡¯t leave his training up to an army in the south, can we?¡± Rather than being insulted, Angelton was reassured. If she really WAS one of those combat obsessed Averetts, than she might work out just fine. Gesturing off to the building serving as the bunkhouse, he said, ¡°There¡¯s where the recruits are staying. Follow your nose for chow. Lights out at 2800, and reveille is at 0400. Your fellow recruits arrive tomorrow. Any questions soldier?¡± Snapping to attention, the smile vanished from her face and she shouted, ¡°Sir, No Sir.¡± Angelton couldn¡¯t help but smile at the tiny woman. He never judged a book by its cover, but seeing someone who he was previously introduced to as a dorm-mother acting like a soldier was hilarious. He had a feeling that she was going to be fun to watch. People from the north could fight, and if she was half as dangerous as he thought she might be, he¡¯ll be glad to have her with him in the wilds. ¡°Dismissed,¡± he said. She grabbed her bag and walked off without another word. Captain Angelton watched her leave for a while, then shook his head to put her out of his mind. Returning to his clipboard, he went back to reviewing the preparations for their training. They had 10 days before their first excursion, and he needed to have the recruits ready by then. Most of the them were already trained for combat, but he didn¡¯t have high hopes for Lords Walker and Salvatore-Verena. 10 days just wasn¡¯t enough time. It will be months before they were able to stand on their own. Then again, they were mages. ¡®I¡¯ll just stick them in the middle of the formation and let them hide behind the real soldiers. As long as I give their squad easy missions, they should be fine. Mages have their place, but it¡¯s not the wilds,¡± he thought to himself in worry. ----- Nero was looking out the window of the carriage, cataloging the differences between Gate 7 and his temporary new home. Where Gate 7 looked like a fantasy village, Gate 15 looked like it was built for the frontier. It was an appropriate setting for a training camp intended to forge monster hunters. Nero¡¯s eyes tried to take everything in. It wasn¡¯t easy, as he had to ignore Nick, who was explicating how much time this entire venture was going to waste. The people walking the streets were all armed, and most of them wore some kind of armor. There was a lot of leather, along with unstrung bows on their backs. Glints of knives and other weapons were everywhere, along with fur linings and cloaks. This content has been unlawfully taken from Royal Road; report any instances of this story if found elsewhere. The wood buildings had fewer flower boxes, and everything looked much more martial than what he had gotten used to. There were fewer smiles, and the general feel of the area was more dangerous. It wasn¡¯t so much a feeling of danger, but more like he was entering a gym. People here were dangerous, and it was best not to start anything. Nero felt a kick on his shin, and looked over to see Nick peering out the opposite window. ¡°That should be the training compound,¡± Nick said with disdain. Nero slid over and looked out the window. All he saw were some tall walls surrounding a block that was separated from the rest of the buildings. Giving Nick a glare, Nero said sarcastically, ¡°Oh yes, obviously that¡¯s the training facility. Thank you for drawing my attention to it.¡± Nick just nodded with a grim face. ¡°This is going to be hell Nero. I know you haven¡¯t been listening, but I want you to be prepared. Pay attention to your training, and don¡¯t mess around. These are serious people, and what they do is serious business,¡± he said without taking his eyes off the wall. Nero just snorted and went back to looking around. Eventually, they stopped in front of a large gate, and then stepped down from their carriage. Nero connected to the cab through his link and confirmed the charges. It was nice to be able to pay for things again. The familiarity, and the sense of empowerment was pleasant enough to cause Nero to start smiling. Nero collected his large duffel bag, along with the magic satchel Jennings had given him. Although Nero had read up on personal space magic, he didn¡¯t feel comfortable trying to create his personal pocket space yet. For now, he¡¯d have to rely on his bags. Looking around, Nero saw people going in and out of the gate. They were being checked in by some soldiers in chain-mail and blue tabards. It was weird seeing them using clipboards like they were bouncers. As their carriage drove off, Nero turned to Nick and asked, ¡°Why are they using clipboards? Why don¡¯t they just use their links? In fact, why do people even use paper at all here?¡± Nick picked up his bag and started walking toward the gate. While walking, he said, ¡°Nero, people can¡¯t be on their links all day. It would tire them out too quickly. We¡¯ve talked about this before. Now stop asking questions. You need to bottle up that incessant curiosity of yours and focus. People here aren¡¯t going to put up with your asinine observations.¡± Nero followed along quietly, but internally he was planning all sorts of unpleasantness to visit upon Nick in the future. Reaching the gate, Nick announced them like he was addressing the court, ¡°Lords Nicholas Salvatore-Verena and Nero Walker. We were bidden to arrive here and begin our training. Our names should be on your list.¡± The guards shared a look with each other. Clearly, they were not impressed. Nero couldn¡¯t help it, and started laughing. Nick looked over his shoulder, and gave Nero a firm stare down. That only served to make Nero laugh harder. ¡°Stop it. I can¡¯t stand it. Look at these guys, they don¡¯t care about your fanciness. They are here to get paid and check people in. Don¡¯t talk to people here like that or someone is going to fart on your pillow,¡± Nero said while trying to catch his breath. The two soldiers chuckled, and the one on the left said, ¡°He¡¯s right m¡¯lord. After you pass through this gate, your titles mean nothing. Just focus on your training, and you¡¯ll be fine.¡± Nick was so obviously out of his element that the soldiers felt the need to reassure him. Nero fought to control another bout of laughter from delaying them any longer. Eventually, they were checked in, and sent off to the bunkhouse. Looking around, Nero was surprised at how big an area the facility covered. When he had heard there were only about 20 recruits, he didn¡¯t expect to train in a place that took up a city block. The walls served to block out the city, and the feeling of isolation was palpable. It was like the entire world outside was cut off, and the only thing left was the packed dirt under his feet and the three intimidating buildings in the distance. Walking along the central path, Nero saw the training areas. There were training circles with weapon racks. He saw the massive firing range along the wall. A dirt track for running created a large ring. There were a few trees and shrubs, but as the only greens they didn¡¯t really offset the feeling of ¡®purpose¡¯. The essence in the air felt directed. Nero felt like this place only existed to train soldiers. The feeling was intimidating, and Nero¡¯s playful attitude felt stifled. There weren¡¯t many people around. Mostly moving in two¡¯s and threes, everyone was wearing linen shirts and thick trousers designed for training. Rather than arms and armor like Nero expected, everyone wore colored shirts to designate their rank or purpose. He didn¡¯t know what the colors meant, but it was obvious they meant something. When they got to the building they would be staying in, Nero saw some young men and women talking in groups and sitting on benches. They were all wearing white shirts, and Nero assumed they were his fellow recruits. Instead of introducing himself or trying to make a good first impression, Nick strode through the doors and looked around for a room-assignment chart. Finding it quickly, he turned to Nero and shouted. ¡°Come along Nero, I¡¯ve found our rooms,¡± he yelled from inside the door. Nero just smiled and shook his head at Nick¡¯s antics. After looking at the board, Nero and Nick went to the end of the hall and saw their rooms. All the rooms were identical and it looked like a hotel hallway. Although instead of concrete, everything was stone. Solid wood doors opened to a room not much smaller than Nero¡¯s former dorm room. The only difference being that there was no bathroom. Noticing the small, wide windows near the ceiling, Nero felt the place looked like a large prison cell. The bed was a single, and the only furniture was a chest of drawers, and a small desk with a chair. Though, at the end of the bed was a small trunk. Nero didn¡¯t see a lock on the door, but that didn¡¯t mean anything with how enchantments here worked. After tossing his gear on his bed, Nero returned to the hallway. From his door, he could hear Nick muttering from the room next to his. Peeking in, he saw Nick furiously unpacking. While shoving his clothes into the drawers, Nero listened to his rant. ¡°...simple brute. She thinks I¡¯ll just go along with everything. Well, she has another thing coming. I¡¯m my own man. If I want to be a noble, I¡¯ll be a noble. Don¡¯t have to order me like I¡¯m a child. I¡¯m a scientist! A respected leader in my field. People have come to hear me speak on¡­..¡± Nick muttered and ranted as his face was twisted in a pout. Not wanting to interrupt, Nero held his hand over his mouth to stifle his chuckle. Stepping back into the hallway, Nero looked around for the bathroom. He assumed it was like his college dorms back home. It turned out to be just two doors down and at the very end of the hall. Opening the doors, Nero saw a dozen sinks, along with some lockers. There were some toilets along the walls, and opposite them were some pillars with shower heads. Nero looked blankly for a moment. His mind didn¡¯t seem to want to comprehend the obvious conclusions. All he could think of was, ¡®Where is the toilet paper?¡¯ Chapter 63 - Have you no shame? It had taken them two days of hard travel to get back to Dorchester. Mike and his team of hunters were looking forward to a hot meal and some sleep. But first, they had to report their sighting of a proto-dungeon. Getting paid was more important than their comfort. After they finally got through the gates, they made their way through the crowds easily. People parted to let the group past. It probably had a lot to do with their smell. Each of them was covered in grime and blood. It was clear that the group of four had been through the wilds, and were deserving of some respect. Taking it as their due, they didn¡¯t think much of it. Jerry, the illusion mage, spoke up, ¡°So, first we report in, see what we can get for the coordinates, then a meal?¡± Mike, their leader and resident rogue, just nodded. Heather, their archer, ignored him. Sarah, the healer, was nice enough to at least reply, ¡°Yup. That¡¯s the plan. Is it just me, or is this place busier than it was a week ago?¡± Mike had been looking around, and he had noticed the same thing. ¡°There is definitely something going on. Come on, let¡¯s get to the lodge and get paid.¡± Increasing their pace, they soon found the crowd in front of the Hunter Association. Pushing their way through, they entered the Hall of the Hunt and found a free teller. ¡°We¡¯ve just come from wilds and have to report on a possible proto-dungeon,¡± Mike said without preamble. The teller didn¡¯t respond like they had assumed he would. Instead of being surprised, he just asked, ¡°What are the coordinates?¡± Pressing some buttons on his desk, a map of the east wilds was projected on top of his desk. While Mike, Heather, and Jerry were confused, Sarah caught on quickly. ¡°We¡¯re not the first to report a sighting are we? How bad is it?¡± she asked. The teller gave them a look. Noticing their haggard appearance, his eyes seemed to soften a little. In a calm tone of voice, he said quietly, ¡°It¡¯s all bad. Even if you are reporting something we already know about, that still leaves 34 proto-dungeons currently active. The wilds are teeming with monsters, beasts, mutated beasts, and the hordes are already forming. The dead from the noble war are feeding the fresh spawns and everything is progressing fast. It will be months before a tide hits, but at this point, everyone knows it¡¯s coming. I¡¯m sorry to say, you probably won¡¯t get much for reporting a proto-dungeon in these conditions.¡± The team¡¯s shoulders sagged, and the weight of the past few days hit them all at once. Mike spoke up, ¡°Fair enough.¡± He leaned over and started manipulating the projection of the wilds. ¡°Here is where we saw the proto-dungeon. Open up a node, and I¡¯ll send you the memory engram of the beasts it was spawning.¡± After manipulating his desk, he gave Mike a nod and waited for him to connect. After a few seconds, Mike returned the nod and sent him the memory. The teller spent a minute in silence, going over what Mike had sent him. As the hunters waited, their hope for a payday waned. Sighing, the teller looked up at them and said, ¡°Sorry. That one has already been reported. But they didn¡¯t get a good look at the monster spawns, they just recorded the location. So you can get 5 ¡®lordly valens¡¯. That¡¯s something at least.¡± Nodding, Mike thanked him and filled out the paperwork. The process only took a few minutes, and their account was credited with 50,000 ¡®common valens¡¯. It was a good pay-day, but nothing special. Their gear needed repair, and housing costs were going to suck if they didn¡¯t want to stay in the bunks. The team found an area off to the side of the hall to regroup and discuss their plans. As they circled up, Mike looked at them with a grim face and asked, ¡°So, what do we think?¡± Heather spoke up first, ¡°We need money. This isn¡¯t enough to get us out of Dorchester. And if we stay, we¡¯ll have to pay Victor¡¯s wife his share, which cuts into our profits even more. This is a disaster.¡± Jerry and Sarah nodded. Mike rubbed his chin in thought. All of them stood in silence, Heather¡¯s simple summation of their situation was as accurate as it was depressing. Eventually, Mike addressed the group, ¡°We¡¯ve been in tight spots before. This is no different. We just have to look at alternate means of income.¡± Sarah looked uncomfortable, and asked, ¡°I hope you aren¡¯t thinking of what I think your thinking of. We did that once, and it was for a good reason. They were shitty people that deserved it. There are probably tons of ways to get a payday with all the essence flying around out there right now. Acting like raiders is unnecessarily stupid.¡± Mike looked at the group and judged their faces to see how they were taking what he said. Heather seemed fine with it, and Jerry seemed to not care what they did. But Sarah would be a problem. Locking eyes with her, Mike said, ¡°We don¡¯t have as many options as you think. There are a lot of hunters here. Just look around. Every hunter in the city is active and working. Every day more will come in from the villages, looking to make their valens.¡± Waving his hand, he indicated the packed hunter¡¯s hall. Sarah looked around and grimaced. Though she wasn¡¯t blind to what he was saying, the less than savory aspects of being a hunter had never been her thing. Teams that wiped out other teams were eventually hunted in return. Moral questions aside, it was just not a good idea in the long run. Scavenging gear was one thing, but if she was right, Mike was suggesting actively hunting targets of opportunity. They only did that once, and it was a team of assholes a few years ago. Sarah didn¡¯t object at the time, because to be honest, their leader was a scumbag. Jennifer Hitchens was the woman¡¯s name, and her team made stealing bounties into an art form. The tale has been illicitly lifted; should you spot it on Amazon, report the violation. Making a decision, Sarah hardened her eyes and said, ¡°Alright. If there is another situation like we had before, I¡¯m in. Otherwise, I think it¡¯s time we part ways. With all the hunters here, I won¡¯t have trouble finding a new team.¡± As she looked to the faces of her team, she saw Mike¡¯s smile and Heather and Jerry¡¯s indifference. Come to think of it, why would she stay with these people. Even if they found a target, could she trust a team that thought like this? Maybe it was better to cut ties now. Sarah met each of their eyes, and before Mike could say anything, she interrupted him. ¡°On second thought, I think I¡¯ll take my leave now. I¡¯ll take my valens and go. I don¡¯t want any part of what you¡¯re going to do. I¡¯m not judging, but I just don¡¯t want to walk that path. It¡¯s been nice knowing you all, but I think it¡¯s time we part ways,¡± she said. Heather¡¯s eyebrows rose in surprise, but Jerry just nodded as if it weren¡¯t a surprise. Mike frowned and said, ¡°Are you sure? We¡¯ve been working well for over 10 years, you and I are the only ones still around from the beginning. You want to end it like this?¡± Sarah offered him a small smile and replied, ¡°Sorry Mike, I think we¡¯re just heading in different directions. I wish you the best.¡± Using her link she withdrew from the team, taking her share of the account with her. ¡°May your paths be wide and clear,¡± she said, then gave them a curt nod and turned away to go find a shower. As the remaining members of the team watched Sarah leave, Heather spoke up, ¡°While you were having your heart-wrenching goodbye with the incorruptible healer, I¡¯ve been speaking with some old acquaintances. Our old noble friend needs a favor, and I think we have an opportunity for a real payday.¡± Heather¡¯s smile was cold and her eyes glinted with mischief. Mike looked over at her, and returned the smile. ¡°Well? Don¡¯t keep us in suspense,¡± he ordered. ----- Nero rushed into Nick¡¯s room, eyes wide with panic. Without giving Nick a chance to say anything, Nero blurted out, ¡°Tell me you brought toilet paper!¡± Nick was staring at Nero in confusion. His hands were frozen holding a pillow-case, half applied to a pillow. Seeing Nero¡¯s state, he tried to figure out what Nero was talking about. ¡°You need to use the bathroom?¡± asked Nick, his voiced tinged with worry and confusion. Nero started shaking his head while gripping his hair with his hands. He started pacing back and forth. ¡°Communal bathrooms Nick. There are no doors. Everyone showers together. But that¡¯s not the worst part. The toilets Nick! They are just out there¡­ exposed! And the cherry on top of the dump-cake is that I didn¡¯t see any toilet paper,¡± Nero finished with a shout. Nick was trying to piece together what Nero was trying to say. He didn¡¯t see a problem with anything Nero just described. Maybe it was a cultural thing? He needed more information. Stuffing the remainder of his pillow into its covering, he placed it on the bed. Turning to Nero, he put his hands on his hips and asked, ¡°Is it the proximity of the toilets to the shower that you¡¯re having a problem with? And why do you of all people need toilet paper?¡± Nero¡¯s pacing just stopped as his brain short-circuited. ¡°What the hell does that mean? Me of all people. I shit too Nick! Wait¡­ am I not supposed to be shitting?¡± Nero was hysterical. Nick raised his hands and tried to calm Nero down. ¡°Nero, take a breath and start from the beginning. What¡¯s the problem?¡± he asked calmly. Nero took a few deep breaths and closed his eyes. After 30 seconds, he opened them and stared at Nick with an intensity that was unnerving. In a tight voice, he said, ¡°Nick, I know the translation magic of the world is working, so I need you to LISTEN. There is no toilet paper. There isn¡¯t even a place for them to put the roll. The design is for people to shit and then go to the showers and wash themselves. We¡¯re going to be standing in our excrement as we shower. Do you understand the words that are coming out of my mouth?¡± Nick was trying to follow Nero¡¯s line of thought, and he came to a startling conclusion. ¡°Nero, do you not know how to clean yourself with magic? That¡¯s usually the first thing people learn. Many people can cast that spell before they even awaken,¡± he said in astonishment. Nero¡¯s eyes narrowed to slits and he said, ¡°Show me the damn spell-form.¡± Chuckling, Nick didn¡¯t even raise his hands. A spell form appeared instantly, and Nero could feel Nick forcing it to not activate. It was the simplest spell form Nero had ever seen. It simply channeled ¡®purification essence¡¯ at the caster. There was one input, and the output was directed onto the caster. Nero had no trouble copying the spell-form. Seconds later, Nero felt the grime on his body disappear, and he felt as fresh as a daisy. His eyebrows rose as the pleasant feeling lingered. ¡°So then why do the other bathrooms I¡¯ve seen have toilet paper?¡± Nero asked. Smiling, Nick said, ¡°Even if you can cast the spell, lots of people don¡¯t waste their center on something so trivial. This is the army though, stress is required for growth. Everyone is expected to be able to clean themselves.¡± Nero thought about it, ¡°Stress is required for growth? Is that why there are no doors in the bathroom?¡± Cocking his head in confusion, Nick replied, ¡°Nero, just because I understand what the words you''re using mean, doesn¡¯t mean I understand how your brain works.¡± Breaking into a chuckle, Nick continued, ¡°One thing has nothing to do with the other. You¡¯re going to be heading into the wilds with these people. You¡¯ll be together, facing life and death struggles with them for weeks at a time. At some point you¡¯ll guard each of them as they crap in a hole that you helped dig. Why would showering together cause you stress?¡± Seemingly missing the point, Nero replied, ¡°There are girls in the unit. Aren¡¯t they going to be uncomfortable showering next to the men? Do we shower with swim trunks on or something? Or is there a privacy spell that I don¡¯t know about?¡± Nick didn¡¯t seem to understand Nero¡¯s problem, and asked, ¡°There are many privacy spells, but why would you use them in the shower? Are you ashamed of something? Is there a physical deformity that I missed during your testing? I don¡¯t remember seeing anything during your scan.¡± ¡°Nick. Are you saying that no one cares about being naked around other people?¡± Nero replied, trying to get Nick to see reason. ¡°Nero, no. Why would anyone care?¡± he asked right back. ¡°Because men could get excited seeing naked women. The women would feel objectified and stuff,¡± Nero said, almost whimpering as he imagined the shame. Nick just stood there staring at Nero like a puzzle that didn¡¯t have all the pieces. ¡°Nero, are you worried you can¡¯t control yourself around a woman you find attractive? If so, we have bigger concerns than you being uncomfortable naked,¡± he said seriously. ¡°What? No, of course not. I¡¯m just saying, aren¡¯t separate bathrooms for men and women a thing here?¡± Nero asked, begging for the answer to be ¡®yes¡¯. ¡°No. They¡¯re not. People are expected to have a modicum of self control and a basic awareness of their surroundings. You don¡¯t have to worry about people ¡®objectifying¡¯ you in the shower,¡± Nick said mockingly. Apparently the word ¡®objectifying¡¯ didn¡¯t translate well. He seemed to think the word itself was stupid. Nero didn¡¯t know what to say, so he just stood there like an idiot. From behind him, he heard a chuckle. ¡°This is going to be great. I have a feeling you''re going to be fun to watch. I don¡¯t know why I ever thought about turning this job down,¡± said Ms. Averett. Nero spun around to see the hawk leaning against the door jam with a cruel smile on her face. ¡®Well, that¡¯s that. I¡¯m fucked,¡± Nero thought, as he resigned himself to a week of pain and shame. Chapter 64 - The moment you realize it was you all along. The king was once again meditating in his tower, his psychic field spread over his capital city. He was relaxed as he luxuriated in the feeling of an unrestrained psyche. His presence was spread so thin that it would be invisible to most of the citizenry. Only those with a mind-focus stat over 1000 would have a chance of noticing his feather-lite touch. Feeling his aide, Walter, leading a group of three up the stairs below, the king reigned in his psychic field. In less than a moment, his senses were pulled in tight. It was like he removed his hands from the surroundings, but could still see them clearly. He took his time mentally adjusting to the perspective change, while watching the group approach through the tower. He had plenty of time before they arrived. Minutes passed before they finally arrived. Stilling the wind around him, the King put on his robe and watched as the floor opened to reveal his guests. Before the King could say anything, Walter spoke up, ¡°Sire, Director Weatherby said it was urgent. He insisted that you would want to hear what he has to say in person, and without delay.¡± Walter was obviously annoyed, and his voice was heavy with disdain. As the king had a good idea what this was about, he merely responded with a smile. Locking eyes with Director Weatherby, he waited for the man to speak his mind. Weatherby expertly ignored Walter¡¯s tone. ¡°Sire, the matrix of fate has successfully re-calibrated after the anomaly in Dorchester. It¡¯s updating our projection models for everything. I¡¯m sure you remember Weaver Duncan,¡± he said as he gestured to the man on his right. ¡°He has been leading the team concerned with the war against Islangur. While interacting with the matrix, he saw something you need to hear.¡± Weaver Duncan stepped forward and bowed. His face was grave as he introduced himself. ¡°Sire, you may remember me from the briefing held at army central command a few months ago?¡± Nodding, the king responded, ¡°Of course. What do you have for me?¡± ¡°While I was double checking some of the prophecies concerning the war in the south, I was shown several different visions of the future. I saw a leader rise among the people of Islangur. I saw them win the war. Our cities were burning, and our people were slaughtered in droves. Then, I saw our armies victorious. The front was shattered, and we pushed through Islangur with ease. Our victory was absolute. More and more visions assaulted me. I saw revolts happening across their kingdom. Their country split into warrior states. I saw us winning the war and our kingdom¡¯s merged. A crown was placed on a head of white hair. Hordes of undead walked the land, and the living hid in fear. I saw wyvern-riders massacring cities. Nothing made sense. The images were unclear, and fleeting. The official prophecy was given, and it read: ¡®When the child of the heavens picks his path, his destination will be clear¡¯. When the prophecy was penned, none of the visions of the future were found. I was the only one to see them,¡± he finished with a trembling voice. The king didn¡¯t let it show, but he was surprised. He figured that the war projections would have needed to be updated, but this was a little more serious than he thought. The matrix of fate didn¡¯t like to admit its shortcomings. For it to tell the fateweavers that it didn¡¯t know the future was somewhat worrying. Putting his hands behind his back, the king turned to look out over his city. Like a statue, he thought over what he had just heard, and everyone waited patiently for his response. The king wondered how many questions the fateweavers had asked about the boy. Why were they so concerned about him? There had to be more to it. In a flash of insight, the answer came to him. The king realized that it wasn¡¯t about the boy. It was about all the unanswerable questions it was being asked. The boy is an unknown, and his arrival has skewed everything. It no longer felt comfortable making predictions. If it could be wrong once, it could be wrong again. It was buying time to learn from the experience. As usual, the fateweavers didn¡¯t understand his grandfather¡¯s machine. They were jumping to conclusions again. ¡°You think it¡¯s a nexus event, don¡¯t you?¡± The king asked while still looking out into the distance. Director Weatherby replied, ¡°What else can it be? Our records go back to the founding, and that is the only thing that fits. Many paths, leading to one road. Sire, what do we do?¡± The king felt their agitation and fear. Even Walter¡¯s psyche was trembling with worry. If he wanted them to refrain from doing anything stupid, he¡¯d have to choose his words carefully. ¡°You do not need to be concerned. Our victory is still assured, have no doubt. This war was never a real danger to the kingdom. I think that what Weaver Duncan saw wasn¡¯t a warning as such. It was an apology,¡± said the king. Confused, Duncan tried to speak up to defend his visions. But before he could say anything, the king continued in a calming tone. ¡°Nexus events are things that WILL happen. There is nothing to be done about them. No matter what we do, they¡¯ll happen. They are rare, and usually dependent on a powerful individual building up to a decision. For example, if Plastia started destroying cities, the matrix would be capable of determining how long we had until Hennings was destroyed. It could offer an ¡®absolute¡¯ warning that the city would be destroyed, but it couldn¡¯t give the details. We could do many things, but Hennings wouldn¡¯t remain where it is. We could not stand against a great dragon. That is a nexus event. ¡°Luckily, what you saw wasn¡¯t a nexus event. It was, in fact, the opposite. It¡¯s saying that a person will be powerful in the future, and that anything could happen during their rise. Those were all just possibilities, not futures. Grand, sweeping visions, all of which were shown to make its point. The words it gave, that was the point. Do you understand?¡± The king asked, and turned to face the group. His words of reassurance didn¡¯t seem to put them at ease. Director Weatherby asked, ¡°Is it the boy in Dorchester?¡± With worry, and a hint of anger, he pressed on, ¡°Should we have him eliminated?¡± The king couldn¡¯t help it, and burst into laughter. The four men were shocked, as the king was not prone to showing such strong emotions. They¡¯d seen him chuckle, but he¡¯d never laughed in their presence. The king was usually very composed. With a smile on his face, the king said, ¡°No Director Weatherby, we won¡¯t have the boy ¡®eliminated¡¯. I told you, the matrix wasn¡¯t offering a warning. It was saying that anything can happen, and it doesn¡¯t like not having the answers. Without having a better way to say it, it showed you what it could. Let me clarify what it was trying to get you to see. Unauthorized use: this story is on Amazon without permission from the author. Report any sightings. The boy will be powerful. Don¡¯t exile him. Don¡¯t kill him. Don¡¯t interfere. His path is out of our control. In short, the matrix was saying, ¡®until he makes a decision, stop asking about him¡¯. It doesn¡¯t have any insights to share. Hopefully, you can understand that. I¡¯m not sure I can be any clearer.¡± The three fateweavers all bowed and thanked the king for seeing them on short notice. In no time at all, they were scurrying back to their tower. The king watched them through his psychic field with a smile on his face. ¡®They really are too attached to that silly little toy. I better do something soon, before a stupid weed ruins my garden,¡¯ he thought. ----- Nero had returned to his room to sulk. Laying in bed, he was trying to look on the bright side. Ms. Averett wasn¡¯t all bad, and she would probably be a great trainer. The bathroom situation wasn¡¯t ideal, but he was sure he could adapt. Different cultural values were the least of his worries. In the grand scheme of things, did it really matter if he shared a shower room with women? As he tried to move past his upbringing, his room¡¯s speakers broke him out of his thoughts. ¡°All recruits report to the yard. All recruits report to the yard,¡± spoke a firm voice from the walls. Nero couldn¡¯t see any speakers, but quickly dismissed that as a priority. Opening his door, he saw everyone moving quickly to the front of the building. Following along, Nero felt very short. Everyone around him was taller than him. Luckily, no one seemed to be shoving or posturing. The ambiance was extremely professional. The recruits filtered out in front of the building, and were soon in two rows of ten. Nero made sure to avoid the front row. The last thing he wanted was to be in the spotlight. He¡¯d seen movies with basic training. There was always one guy that was used as an example, and Nero didn¡¯t plan on being the sacrificial lamb who¡¯s ass-whooping demonstrated how serious their training was going to be. Captain Angelton stood in front of the recruits holding a clipboard. Various trainers, along with Sergeant Blackwood, were spread out to his sides. They were all wearing blue linen shirts and thick canvas pants. Their boots were shined, and Nero couldn¡¯t help but think of them as gym teachers. The image was so powerful, he had to stifle a chuckle while he looked for their whistles. The captain finished checking something on his clipboard, and handed it to Blackwood. Striding forward, he addressed the recruits in the firm tone Nero had gotten used to. ¡°Where you come from doesn¡¯t matter. Whether you are from the monster-hunting teams, the clearing teams, or are a hunter, or even a noble; from now on, you are all elites. Dorchester hasn¡¯t had elites in over 400 years. There was no need. Now the threat has returned, and we will rise to face it,¡± he said. The captain started pacing, his words trying to convey a communal purpose. ¡°We will train you to be the most dangerous thing in the wilds. As the danger out there grows, so will you. Among you are various skills. Those skills will be shared, and grown in concert. Together you will face the horrors of the wilds and together you will return victorious,¡± he said. Gesturing to the training circles behind him, the captain continued, ¡°These grounds have seen thousands of recruits. While training, you will feel them supporting you. Dorchester itself will be watching. The city needs you, and you will not let it down. Tonight, enjoy your last meal as individuals. Afterwards, stop by the equipment hall to receive your kit. Bed down early. Tomorrow, reveille is at 0400. I expect everyone here in the yard and ready to train by 04:30. Dorchester needs you to be elites, and you only have a week before you have to face the wilds. You¡¯re dismissed.¡± Like a bomb going off, everyone left to go about their business. Nero just looked around confused. ¡®That¡¯s it?¡¯ he thought. As speeches go, that wasn¡¯t all that inspiring. He was expecting something more. All in all, it was pretty weak on the indoctrination. No one got their ass kicked, and there were no insults. If anything, Nero thought it was more of a pep-talk. Shaking his head, Nero walked off toward the cafeteria. He saw Nick and Ms. Averett walking side by side, probably talking about him. Rather than join them, Nero walked on his own and tried to listen in on all the conversations going on around him. He thought it was more important to get a feel for the recruits than it was to listen to Nick making fun of him. Nero tried to figure out who the city lord¡¯s spies were, but everyone just looked too normal. Men and women both. There wasn¡¯t a consistent hair style, or anything that made them seem like a unit. They were really just 20 people who looked like they were in pretty good shape, and wearing the same outfits. No one really stood out. Nero wasn¡¯t liking the normalcy. Where were the typical characters. Why wasn¡¯t there a joker? A bully? A misunderstood rebel? There were women here, so where was the super attractive girl with a complicated backstory? Nero hadn¡¯t admitted it to himself, but he kind of expected the city lord¡¯s daughter to be here. It would have been thematically perfect. She would hate him for what happened to her brother, and Nero would eventually win her over. Their love story would have been epic. With a frown on his face, Nero waited in the chow line. He listened as people introduced themselves to one another. Everyone was polite, and there didn¡¯t seem to be any ego-clashes. What was going on? No one seemed interested in bothering him. Nero knew that he was keeping to himself, but he expected someone to walk up to him and start a conversation. Why was everyone respecting his personal space? Where was his character-defining confrontation? Soon enough, Nero had collected his plate. He stood looking over at the tables which were being shared by the recruits, and he saw Nick waving him over with some impatience. As Nero set down his plate and took his seat, Nick said, ¡°Why are you scowling at everyone? Are you already causing problems?¡± Nero didn¡¯t look up, and just started eating his meal while replying, ¡°No Nick, no problems. I just didn¡¯t expect this. This whole thing is weird.¡± The woman sitting across from Nero had really short blond hair and looked like a softball player. Attractive, but not overly so. She didn¡¯t seem to have an issue inserting herself into Nero and Nick¡¯s conversation and asked politely, ¡°What whole thing is weird?¡± Nero looked up, surprised that someone was speaking to him. ¡°Um¡­ I just figured that someone would try to position themselves as the group leader. You know, try to intimidate everyone. Assert their dominance,¡± he said lamely. While chewing on some sausage, she looked confused and asked, ¡°Why would anyone try to do that now? No one knows what anyone else is capable of. We have all week to figure out the pecking order. And I doubt the captain will choose squad leaders before at least a month of training.¡± Nero just nodded numbly. His disappointment in their professionalism was immeasurable. ¡°So no hazing, or fighting. Everyone will just act all prim and proper. They¡¯ll just do their jobs and work together for the greater good. That¡¯s just great,¡± he said with practically no emotion. His apathy was so apparent that several people were staring at him in confusion. Nick seemed amused by the situation, and chimed in, ¡°Nero¡¯s just not used to people doing what they¡¯re supposed to. He¡¯s incapable of it, so it depresses him. Don¡¯t worry about it.¡± Everyone chuckled, and returned to their conversations. Nero took a big scoop of mashed potatoes and created a catapult with his spoon. If no one else was going to have a personality, it was up to him. Subtly, he aimed it toward Nick on his right, and let loose. Instead of the satisfaction of a food fight. The mashed potatoes just halted in front of Nick¡¯s chest. Nero turned to see him scowling, which was nice, but not what he was going for. Nick used his psychic field to lower the potatoes back onto Nero¡¯s plate, and said, ¡°Nero. I¡¯ve been told that I will be your partner tomorrow afternoon for magical combat training. Are you sure this is the precedent you want to set?¡± Nero returned the scowl, and replied, ¡°If something interesting doesn¡¯t happen soon, I just might have to do something drastic.¡± Nero saw Nick¡¯s face lose it¡¯s scowl and morph into one of worry. Pleased with his efforts, Nero returned to his meal. As he ate, it dawned on him that maybe HE was the joker? Chapter 65 - Dorchesters elite boot camp: Come for the workout, stay for the food. Cathleen Averett watched as her charge, the new Lord Walker, fought with the pull-up bar. His little body was drenched in sweat as he forced himself to continue. To his left and right, recruits were pulling themselves up, then transitioning into handstands on the bar for an upside down push-up. The recruits shouted out their count as they dropped back down to repeat a rep. It was obvious that they and Nero were in entirely different classes as warriors. Yet, what amazed Cathleen was that Nero didn¡¯t seem to care. He was all smiles as he shouted out his count. His just kept going. He wasn¡¯t quick, and he wasn¡¯t powerful, but he didn¡¯t seem to be getting tired. She couldn¡¯t take her eyes off him as he just wouldn¡¯t stop. Rep after rep, he just kept going. She had seen countless children grow into warriors. But she¡¯d never seen someone like Nero. Just yesterday, during orientation, Nero actually looked disappointed when he heard training wasn¡¯t starting right away. Even more, she had been watching closely, and Nero had seemed extremely unimpressed with the training regimen. As she watched him train, she wondered how could she have been so wrong? When Vera first introduced her to the boy, Cathleen had thought she had a good read on him. He was just another soft southerner who wouldn¡¯t last thirty seconds in a real fight; the kind of young man who dodged training, and focused on empty words and politics. Yet, she couldn¡¯t argue with the facts in front of her. The boy obviously had the soul of a warrior. Even in the north, a freshly awakened boy couldn¡¯t have survived the trials Nero had faced. He had killed 5 men in single combat. She had personally watched as he dominated a trained assassin in the arena, and then ask for a sandwich. At the time, she had thought it was possible that he was just crazy, and lucky. But she couldn¡¯t ignore what she was seeing. The recruits on Nero¡¯s left and right switched out again, and a new pair joined him on the bars. Yet, Nero didn¡¯t stop. It was obvious that every rep was a struggle, but he kept smiling as he forced himself to complete each rep. His voice was clear as she heard him yell, ¡°217!¡± She thought about what she had seen in Nero¡¯s eyes during last night¡¯s dinner. Filled with apathy, he tried to hide his disappointment. He had asked why there was no fighting for status, and no battles to be had for leadership. The boy, only 14 years old, was unhappy with the fact that no one would be trying to haze him, or attempting to beat him into submission. His eyes were full of unmet expectations. It was clear that he had been looking forward to a fight. Finally, his arms gave out, and Nero fell to the ground while panting in exhaustion. Yet, she saw that he was still smiling. Cathleen couldn¡¯t help but grin as she thought, ¡®This boy is a monster!¡¯ Struggling to his feet, Nero started laughing. ¡°Hey Cap?¡± he shouted. ¡°Since each set is supposed to be 25, does that mean I did all nine? Or do they not count because I couldn¡¯t do them all fancy like everyone else. Never mind, don¡¯t answer that. I¡¯ll just go run laps,¡± he said while still chuckling. Giving his arms and legs a little shake, he took off into a run toward the track. Cathleen turned to see Captain Angelton shaking his head in exasperation while writing on his clipboard. She could see that he didn¡¯t understand what he was witnessing. This was the birth of a war god. Songs would be sung about this boy. How could he not look past the weak body and see the signs? ----- Nero was having a great time. He felt like a super-human. As he ran around the track, he opened his stat panel.
Body 2
Base Operative Level Stress
Presence 11 15.4 0.1
Durability 8 11.2 2.1
Recovery 21 29.4 7.8
Speed 13 18.2 2.3
Adaptability 32 44.8 1.6
Power 8 11.2 4.3
Mind 4
Base Operative Level Stress
Weight 26 46.8 1.2
Control 29 52.2 4.6
Field 23 41.4 7.2
Precision 39 70.2 9.1
Endurance 46 82.8 5.6
Focus 48 86.4 2.1
Soul 2
Base Operative Level Stress
Size 29 40.6 Unauthorized tale usage: if you spot this story on Amazon, report the violation. 0.1
Density 101 141.4 0.2
Intensity 76 106.4 0.2
Pressure 27 37.8 0.1
Harmony 24 33.6 0.6
Adaptability 270 378 0
Nero¡¯s panting didn¡¯t hinder his smile. It was amazing to see his level stress shoot up during his training. His day may not have started that well, but once training began, everything was coming up Nero. Last night, Nero sulked while retrieving his gear from the equipment hall. His frown remained while he listened to Nick coach him about containing his psychic field to avoid bad dreams. Nero couldn¡¯t focus, and his only concern was how different reality was from his favorite movies. The constant courtesy and kindness of his fellow recruits was more than he could take. He even managed to take a quick shower before bed, so he would be able to have the bathroom all to himself. Nero knew he¡¯d have to face the community shower eventually, but last night he just wasn¡¯t up to it. Just like Nick had warned him, Nero had bad dreams. Dreams of brutal training. Broken bones suffered and healed, spirit¡¯s broken, and recruits washing out. Waking up, Nero couldn¡¯t shake the feeling that today was going to be the worst day of his life. Followed quickly by every day being worse than the day before. As Nero ran, he started to laugh at how different his day had actually turned out. Looking at his stats, Nero figured it was his body¡¯s ¡®adaptability¡¯ and ¡®recovery¡¯ attributes that were to blame. He just couldn¡¯t run out of energy. Nero could feel his soul pulling on the essence in the air. He could almost feel the facilities¡¯ previous recruits cheering him on as he ran. Nero had always hated exercise. He had done it, but he hated it. Looking back, he thought it was the feeling of being tired. Bone-deep tired. But in this new world, everything was totally different. Their first task in the morning had been to do 20 laps. Everyone had outpaced Nero from the start. Even Nick had made Nero feel like he was standing still. Some people must have lapped Nero at least 10 times before he had finished. But while they had gotten tired, Nero had just kept going. The calisthenics that followed the run were like yoga mixed with aerobics. Intermixed with bur-pees and complicated stretches, they used what looked like an adult jungle gym for their training. Nero had kept falling, his body was unable to complete the exercises. But that feeling of exhaustion never came. No matter how hard he had pushed, Nero just didn¡¯t feel it. He could only conclude that his stats and the essence in the air were working together to do¡­ something. Whatever it was, Nero was happy about it. The feeling of pushing past his limits was exhilarating. He may not be able to really complete a single task, but he never once felt like quitting. Nero¡¯s run was interrupted by Sergeant Blackwood shouting, ¡°Alright Nero, that¡¯s enough. Fall in.¡± Jogging back to the group, Nero¡¯s smile was met with confused stares by his fellow recruits. Everyone was looking at him like he was crazy. Nero couldn¡¯t help but laugh at their exhaustion. They all looked like they¡¯d been through hell, while he felt like he could go another ten rounds. Wringing the sweat from his shirt, he took his place in line, and stood at attention. The captain took his place at the front and addressed the recruits. ¡°That¡¯s what we¡¯ll be doing every morning. All of you know what you have to work on. I expect daily improvement, and I will get it from each of you. Now, breakfast is ready and waiting in the mess hall. I want to see you back on this field, ready to work, in 30 minutes. Fall out!¡± he shouted. Nero turned to head toward the mess hall, when all of the sudden, everyone cast a cleaning spell on themselves. Everyone was bathed in a white light, as if they were all affected by a mass casting. No one seemed to notice that Nero didn¡¯t follow suit. Without any chatter or whispers, all of the recruits then proceeded to the mess hall with a quick walk. Amazed at the impromptu coordination, Nero just stood there and watched. ¡°You alright Nero?¡± Nick asked, as he approached from behind Nero. Spinning in place, Nero saw Nick walking toward him. The man looked tired. He had bags under his eyes and his shoulders were slumped in weariness. At this point, Nero¡¯s smile was starting to hurt his face. Nero replied, ¡°Hey Nick! Looking good. And don¡¯t worry about me. I¡¯m doing great. Let¡¯s go get our chow.¡± With a pep in his step, Nero trotted off toward the mess hall. While everyone else was pushing through the pain of a difficult morning training, Nero¡¯s mood was only improving. ¡®Even the food looks great,¡¯ he thought. As he joined the recruits at the table, everyone was eating in silence. Nero was shoveling some kind of thick oatmeal with meat-chunks into his mouth, while looking around to see how everyone was doing. Rather than using a glass, Nero just grabbed a pitcher of water and used it like a giant mug. Occasionally, people looked up from their meal. But in general, everyone was focused on breakfast. The silence was starting to annoy Nero. It took three trips to the counter for Nero to finally feel full. Finally satisfied, he was about to start forcing some conversations, when they all heard a trainer shout from the door, ¡°2 minute warning recruits. Get your dishes bussed, and get your asses back on the field.¡± Sighing, Nero went to drop off his pile of dishes. Surprisingly, Nero was stopped short by a familiar looking young woman with light brown hair. Although Nero couldn¡¯t remember where, he was sure he had seen her before. Her intense blue eyes held him in place as she stood in his path with her arms crossed. As she was over a foot taller than Nero, she had no trouble blocking his path. Although her stare was intense, her tone was confused as she asked, ¡°Why haven¡¯t you cleaned yourself up?¡± Everyone in the area seemed to pause what they were doing and look at Nero and the mystery woman. As Nero noticed this, he didn¡¯t want to look like he was intimidated. With that in mind, he responded with his typical snark. ¡°We¡¯re just going to be getting dirty again, what¡¯s the point? If my manly musk is too much for you, don¡¯t feel bad. I¡¯ve been known to have that effect on people. But for you, I¡¯ll try to keep it in check,¡± he said in an apologetic tone. Nero¡¯s hands were full, so he just cast his cleaning spell by stamping it with his field. The gasps from the surrounding recruits were music to Nero¡¯s ears. With a grin, Nero held her stare with one of his own, then deftly stepped around her to drop off his dishes. Moments later, he was quick-stepping out the door back onto the field. While he stepped back into formation, Nero examined his clothes and hair. The spell he had used was the one Vera had shown him for his clothes. He had just targeted ¡®all¡¯ of himself. Apparently, it worked just as well for a full body. He felt scrubbed clean, but it felt weird. It didn¡¯t feel like he had washed. The spell seemed to have just removed all the ¡®dirtiness¡¯ and left him feeling clean, but not refreshed. All in all, Nero found the feeling rather unsatisfying. His musings were interrupted by Captain Angelton shouting, ¡°All right elites, time for combat training. We¡¯re doing two hours of hand to hand before we move onto weapons. You¡¯ll be broken into 5 groups of 4. Listen for your name and join your group¡¯s trainer at their circle.¡± Nero watched as people¡¯s names were called out and they filtered to their large fighting circles. Nero heard his name and went to join his group. Unsurprisingly, he saw that Nick and Ms. Averett were in his group. However, he was surprised to see the girl he had a mini-altercation with as their fourth member. Nero didn¡¯t know if this was by chance or design, but he figured he¡¯d treat it as an ¡®enemy action¡¯ regardless. While trying to watch the girl with his psychic field, Nero studied their combat trainer. The man was a little under 6 feet, and looked like a typical soldier. Close cropped hair, strong chin, and he even stood like he was always at attention. His blue shirt identified him as a trainer, although the clipboard helped. ¡°My name is Sergeant Wesker, and I¡¯ll be supervising your unarmed combat training. No magic. No weapons. When all else fails, you will face your enemies with your bare hands, and I¡¯ll show you how. For the next ten days, we¡¯ll meet after breakfast. I¡¯ll have you for 2 hours every day, unless you require more training. Then I¡¯ll have you until I¡¯m satisfied,¡± he said while staring them down. Looking at his clipboard, he continued, ¡°I have files on all of you, but I don¡¯t know what you can do. So we¡¯ll just have to see what we¡¯ll see. Be sure to call for a medic if you¡¯re injured. I don¡¯t want your training affected by you thinking about training your recovery. There will be plenty of time for that later.¡± As he spoke, he gestured to some trainers wearing green interspersed among the training circles. Walking a little off to the side, he said, ¡°Alright, we¡¯ll start with Verena and Averett. Head to the center, and start when ready. Fight until knockout, common rules are in effect. Start when you¡¯re ready.¡± Nero joined Sergeant Wesker and the young woman off to the side of the ring. Although Nero was nervous for Nick, he was just glad that Ms. Averett wasn¡¯t going to be his opponent. Glancing over at the girl, Nero realized that it wouldn¡¯t have mattered. This girl was going to kick his ass. As they watched Nick and Cathleen take their places in the center of the ring, Nero asked, ¡°What are the common rules?¡± Sergeant Wesker tilted his head at Nero in confusion. Nero thought he was either surprised that Nero would talk to him, or surprised at the question. ¡°Common rules for a fight means that no instant killing moves are allowed. Obviously, no magic or weapons. Breaking bones is fine, but avoid breaking anyone¡¯s neck. Accident¡¯s happen, but deliberate attempts to win with a kill results in a loss,¡± he said. Nero returned the look of confusion and said, ¡°Isn¡¯t that a little much for a training match?¡± Seeing the look of disdain on Wesker¡¯s face made Nero rethink what the man said. How could such practical people waste soldiers with training like that. Seeing a green shirt out of the corner of his eye gave Nero the answer. He snapped his fingers and said, ¡°Magic! Wait¡­ is permanent injury a thing? Or how about resurrection magic? How long do you have before a body is unable to be resuscitated?¡± Before Nero could get his questions answered, he saw movement in the center of the ring. Looking over, Nero saw exactly what he was expecting to see; Nick getting his ass kicked. Ms. Averett shot across the ring like a bullet. She led with a front kick that Nick side-stepped. Nero was impressed, but only for about half a second. Instead of dropping her foot, she jumped off her back foot with surprising strength. Corkscrewing, she whipped the leg she just kicked with around her body. As Nick had planted his feet, he chose to meet the kick head-on with his forearms. To Nero¡¯s shock, Nick¡¯s block succeeded. Unfortunately, that didn¡¯t seem to faze Ms. Averett. She just dropped to the ground, landing lightly on her feet. Her landing allowed her to have a clear shot at Nick¡¯s ribs. Her left hand performed a textbook hook into Nick¡¯s side and Nero watched him fold. As his right arm dropped in pain, Ms. Averett¡¯s follow-up right took him square in the nose. Instead of continuing, she just stood up straight and started walking away. Nero could see her grin, as behind her Nick was frozen like a statue. Like a tree falling, he just tipped over. She had knocked him out cold while he was still standing. Feeling a chill down his spine, Nero tried to imagine anything he could have done to avoid Nick¡¯s fate. Without having come up with an answer, Nero heard Sergeant Wesker. ¡°MEDIC! RING 2!¡± shouted the sergeant. He didn¡¯t seem worried, and just started writing some notes on his clipboard. Nero watched as Ms. Averett walked over to them and stood next to Nero with a grin on her face. Following her eye-line, Nero saw that she was watching the medic run over to Nick¡¯s prone body. It was a little far away, but Nero tried to watch the medic healing Nick with his psychic senses. Nero recognized a complicated diagnostic spell form. Although he couldn¡¯t cast it, he had seen the diagram in one of the books Jennings gave him. Yet, he could cast the healing spell that the medic used. It was a basic influx spell. It channeled restorative essence into a living person. From what Nero read, it was like a healing-accelerator. It wouldn¡¯t restore things into place, like broken bones or messed up organs. But if a person had everything in the right place, it worked like a charm. In fact, it was the only healing spell form that Nero could cast. As the entire fight only lasted a few seconds, the healing seemed to take a while. Soon enough, Nick was back on his feet and walking over to the group. Ms. Averett still hadn¡¯t said anything, and Sergeant Wesker hadn¡¯t stopped writing. Nero watched Nick cast a quick spell to clean the blood off his face. ¡°Really Cathleen? You couldn¡¯t at least let me throw a few punches? This was supposed to be a demonstration of our skills,¡± said Nick as he approached. Ms. Averett just smirked and replied, ¡°That was an accurate demonstration of your skill level. I¡¯d require someone who actually knew how to fight in order to show the sergeant what I¡¯m capable of.¡± Nero was about to shout ¡®burn¡¯, but was interrupted by Sergeant Wesker. ¡°Walker and Vikander, you¡¯re up. Show me what you got,¡± he said while still writing on his clipboard. Nero gulped as he saw his opponent jog into the center of the ring. Following suit, Nero took his place and looked across the few feet separating him from an ass-whooping. Maybe it was the distance, or the light, or any number of things. But as Nero looked across the ring, he remembered where he had seen the woman. She had been standing with the assassins. Obviously, she was wearing different clothes back then, but Nero was sure it was her. He watched as she raised her fists, preparing for combat. Nero¡¯s heart started beating a mile minute. ¡®Not good. This is definitely not good,¡¯ he thought. Chapter 66 - That doesnt look so hard. Rose was well aware how big an opportunity this was. Being an elite meant a big paycheck, free gear, top-notch training facilities, and intelligence straight from the mage tower. In short, she¡¯d be part of a government sponsored hunter-squad. While the perks were nice, it was the growth she was really after. Elites had everything taken care of by the army, their only concern was their progress. While thinking about the future, Rose was doing the morning workout. She¡¯d had training before, but nothing like this. While the trainers were impressive, it was the recruits that had her nervous. She¡¯d never seen people so talented. Panting, she bent over with her hands on her knees. Having just completed her wind sprints, she was waiting for her turn on the peg ladder. Her fellow recruits looked tired, but she felt like she was barely keeping up. Every time she thought they were done, a new exercise was chosen. Light-headed, Rose was starting to feel like everything was blurring together. Looking over to the right, she saw the reason she was here. The kid was so sweaty, he looked like someone had poured a bucket of water over his head. She couldn¡¯t believe he was smiling. He was slow, weak, and generally pathetic. But she had to admit, she was still intimidated. Just looking at him, smiling while his entire body was failing him, it was like seeing someone smiling during a torture session. In fact, she was pretty sure she had seen him coughing up blood at one point. ¡®Yup, it¡¯s still staining his chin. Gross,¡¯ she thought. Shaking her head, she forced herself to stand back up and continue. Taking her turn, she felt her muscles burn while she stretched to reach each peg into the board. On her left, her fellow recruit was putting her to shame. Rose tried to ignore how weak she was, but she felt the trainer¡¯s eyes watching her. There was no shouting, just silent judgment. It was very effective. Grunting with effort, she increased her pace. Soon enough, she was back on the ground. Leaning her head back, she panted while looking at the sky. For the hundredth time, she wondered if this was the last task before breakfast. Hearing some shouting, she looked over to see her target yelling something to his group¡¯s trainer. She watched him stand on shaky legs and take off at a run, that insane smile still on his face. If she wasn¡¯t sure General Branson would hear about it from someone else, she might have left it out of her report. Who would believe it? Eventually, they were sent to breakfast. While everyone else cleaned up and trudged toward breakfast in silence, too tired to speak, that freak of nature was bouncing around like he wanted more. He didn¡¯t even bother to clean up after his training. She watched him eat like an animal, while blood was still drying all over his mouth. No one seemed to want to talk with him about it. Even his minders were too tired to ask him about it. But she had to know. Asking him why he didn¡¯t clean himself up, she was surprised at his response. ¡°We¡¯re just going to be getting dirty again, what¡¯s the point? If my manly musk is too much for you, don¡¯t feel bad. I¡¯ve been known to have that effect on people. But for you, I¡¯ll try to keep it in check,¡± he said, while sounding like he was taking pity on her. She watched him walk off, suppressing a shiver at his tone. It¡¯s like the brutal training didn¡¯t bother him at all. How did he ignore what he was doing to himself? That¡¯s not normal. When she was assigned to his group, she wasn¡¯t surprised. The general would have given orders to keep her close to the target. Nonetheless, Rose wasn¡¯t happy about it. When she found out that she would have to fight him, she was terrified. She listened as he asked what he was allowed to do to her, while she was standing right there! The kid was a monster. The fact that his bodyguard was just as brutal as Rose thought she would be, was just icing on the intimidation-cake. Finally, it was time to face the music. She stood across from him and saw his crooked grin. He was just staring at her like he was thinking about how to dissect her. As she put her hands up, mentally she prepared for the fight of her young life. Just then, she saw recognition in his eyes. It¡¯s like he remembered her from somewhere. She watched as his grin vanished, then transitioned into a smirk. His eyes hardened, and she knew she was in trouble. ¡®Oh shit! Does he remember me from when I was standing next to Ulric? Does he think I¡¯m associated with the assassins? Not good. This is definitely not good.¡¯ she thought as she involuntarily gulped in fear. ----- Nero was expecting an ass-whooping, and he was alright with that. But if there was another plot to kill him, he was not going to die quietly. He¡¯d been in some fights in high school and college. Nothing serious, but he used to watch the UFC. And, just because he couldn¡¯t use magic, didn¡¯t mean that he was without options. He still had his mana-armor running, and according to what he had read, it wouldn¡¯t be totally useless. After taking Ms. Averett¡¯s warning about essence blades seriously, he had done some research. Essence shields were concentrated fields of essence that resisted changes subconsciously. They had no problem stopping magic, and essence in general. However, they were usually ignored by hand to hand, or anything with an independent will. As long as Nero could maintain his hold, it would still blunt the damage, but that was considered an advanced technique. Nero hardened his resolve, and slammed his fist into his palm. Psyching himself up, Nero started hopping, to get the blood moving. Eyes hard, his voice was cold as he said, ¡°So who wants me dead this time? Is it the city-lord or another noble prick I haven¡¯t heard of?¡± Nero watched her eyes widen. Seeing her try to think up a response, he charged. If popular media had taught him anything, it was to never waste a distraction. Find this and other great novels on the author''s preferred platform. Support original creators! As he wasn¡¯t very fast, she had plenty of time to set her feet and firm her guard. Nero started throwing punches like he was attacking a hanging bag. Since he was more than a foot shorter than her, he bulldozed through her guard to get close. She kept backing up to try and get some distance, but Nero wouldn¡¯t let up. Although he didn¡¯t seem to be hurting her, as most of his punches were hitting her elbows or just missing, he didn¡¯t let up. Rose seemed to realize that Nero wasn¡¯t hitting that hard, and her stance firmed up. Taking a body blow, she used the opportunity of Nero¡¯s over-extension to throw a tight elbow at his temple. She hit cleanly, but it didn¡¯t seem to do any damage. Nero felt the hit, but he managed to keep hold of his mage-armor. It felt like a ripple spreading from his temple, making his shield falter. Gritting his teeth, he realized that he just wasn¡¯t strong enough to really hurt her. It was time to switch strategies. While Rose had stopped backing up, and was preparing to follow-up her elbow with a combo, Nero dropped into a deep crouch and shoved his shoulder into her knee. Instead of doing a single leg take-down, he tried to hit it from the side and whip her into the ground. Even though the maneuver could be considered a success, he managed to face plant into the ground. Rose felt her left leg get pulled up, and then she flailed as the ground rushed up to meet her. The back of her head hit the dirt as she had her wind knocked out. Her chest spasmed as she coughed. With her hands splayed out to her sides, she tried to sit up, but her head was dizzy. She felt Nero climbing up her legs and getting on top of her. In a panic, she tried to push him off. Nero¡¯s nose was bleeding, but he was too hyped-up to feel it. Eyes watering, he crawled over his opponent, trying to get on top of her. He felt her push her hands onto his chest, and he realized how much stronger she was than him. Nero felt like a little kid trying to wrestle an adult, which he supposed was an accurate description of what was happening. Rather than fight her head-on, he did what every mixed martial artist on TV usually did. He grabbed her right arm and tried to get her in an arm bar. It didn¡¯t work as well as he thought it would. Although he did manage to trap her arm, he fell off to her side. Instead of bending her elbow, he just managed to wedge her arm under his left shoulder. Nero¡¯s left leg was on her chest, and his right was just above her face. She was squirming, and he didn¡¯t know how long he could hold on. She was just too tall. Without a lot of options, Nero tightened his grip on her arm and started kicking her in the head. As he wasn¡¯t used to fighting, he didn¡¯t realize he should stop when she stopped moving. His heart was pounding, and he thought he was fighting an assassin. It took a few seconds for the shouts of, ¡°Alright, that¡¯s enough! She¡¯s out, you can stop! Medic!¡± from the on-lookers to register. Nero felt himself being pulled out of the fight by his shoulders. He was swiftly yanked to his feet by a smiling Ms. Averett. His eyes were wide, and his breath was coming fast as he was almost hyperventilating. Nero managed to mutter, ¡°Did I win?¡± The scariest thing Nero had ever heard was the sound of Ms. Averett laughing. She just patted Nero on the back and turned her back on him to aid in his opponent¡¯s recovery. Nero just stood there numbly, trying to catch his breath. His nose was busted, and the blood was dripping off his chin. Snot bubbles forced him to wipe his mouth with his sleeve. Nero looked down to see his arm covered in bright red blood. ¡®Did she have a knife? Shit, I¡¯m bleeding out!?!¡¯ he thought. Immediately, Nero cast the one healing spell he knew. In his panic, he made the spell form stronger than necessary. Regenerative essence flooded his body, and Nero felt like he was mainlining adrenaline. Part of his psyche was hurled through his body, witnessing each of the little muscle tears heal. All of his muscles felt renewed, and his aches and pains were gone. He wasn¡¯t even out of breath anymore. Stunned at the changes, he muttered, ¡°Holy shit.¡± Forcing himself to calm down, he cast a quick cleaning spell. Nero watched as the blood on his shirt seemed to evaporate, along with the dirt and grime. In seconds, his shirt was as good as new, along with everything else. Looking up, Nero saw his opponent being helped to her feet. She had Sergeant Wesker, Nick, Ms. Averett, and a green-shirt all fussing over her. Nero figured this would be a good time to address the elephant in the room. ¡°You all know that she was here to kill me, right?¡± he asked with some venom. Shocked faces snapped toward Nero. Ms. Averett was the first to recover, and a knife appeared in her hand like it had always been there. Faster than Nero thought possible, Ms. Averett was behind the assassin with a knife to her throat and holding her still. In a cold voice, Ms. Averett said, ¡°No sudden moves. Explain.¡± Both the medic and Nick stood there looking like lumps, while the sergeant stepped back in order to make room in case he had to act. The assassin was frozen in panic. Her eyes were wide in terror, and started stuttering. ¡°I¡¯m not an assassin. I was with them. But, I¡¯m not anymore. I¡¯m not here to kill him. I swear,¡± she pleaded. Nero walked up to the group and crossed his arms. ¡°She was with the group of assassins that tried to kill me with that challenge thing. It¡¯s an awfully big coincidence that she¡¯s here now. And was assigned to fight me, before I was taught how to defend myself. As the good sergeant Wesker said, training accidents happen.¡± Sergeant Wesker bristled at that, but before he could say anything, the ¡®not-assassin¡¯ spoke up, ¡°General Branson was there and assigned me here to spy on you. Look, it was a good opportunity to join the elites, but I¡¯m not going to cross you. You¡¯re fucking crazy. I¡¯ll take my chances out in the wilds before I accept a contract on you. I¡¯m a hunter dammit. I always wanted to be a hunter. I¡¯m not cut out for this political crap. Let me go, and you¡¯ll never see me again. I swear.¡± Sergeant Wesker looked like he was just told that Santa didn¡¯t exist. No one had told him the specifics of her assignment, and now he felt lost. He had just been told that she should be kept close to Walker. His training kicked in, and he shouted, ¡°Captain, you¡¯re needed at Ring 2!¡± Ms. Averett hadn¡¯t released her grip in the slightest. She seemed content to just sit there and watch the show. Nick was rubbing his chin in thought, while the medic was just standing there looking confused. Nero didn¡¯t wait for the captain, and walked up in front of the ¡®not-assassin¡¯. Looking her in the eyes, he asked, ¡°What SPECIFICALLY were your orders. Tell me everything.¡± Gulping, she stood very still as the knife rested against her neck. She said, ¡°General Branson said that he might have a job for me after I told him and that other lord that I didn¡¯t want anything to do with your assassination. When I met you, I realized you would win and would probably want payback. I just wanted to make it clear that I didn¡¯t want to be involved. He said he could use someone who sees what others ignore. He put me in this training program and asked me to report on your progress. That¡¯s it. I just wanted to be a hunter.¡± By the time she had finished, she was nearly crying. Nero looked into her blue eyes, and he could FEEL that she was being honest. Her psychic field was radiating tiredness and frustration. She didn¡¯t want to deal with any of this. Nero felt for her. She just wanted to be a hunter. Nobles and powerful people got involved, and she was dragged into something she didn¡¯t care about. ¡°What¡¯s going on?¡± Captain Angelton said in his harsh voice. He walked up to the group, and assessed the situation. Sergeant Wesker spoke first. ¡°Sir, It seems Lord Walker has discovered a spy sent by General Branson. You wouldn¡¯t know anything about that, would you Sir? Because tainting a training field with politics could be considered treason.¡± His voice was filled with accusation and disappointment. As Captain Angelton¡¯s face paled, Nero could see that he was thinking through how he should respond. Nero decided to step in. ¡°Ms. Averett, let her go. We are all going to have a nice discussion along with some coffee. Right now,¡± Nero said in a tone that brooked no argument. Turning on his heel, Nero stomped off toward the command building. He was going to get to the bottom of this, and woe be to anyone who stood in his way. Chapter 67 - How to frame an argument. Jennings was sipping a whiskey as he watched the mage-council arguing through a scry-portal. The hovering window into the council chamber was 3¡¯x5¡¯ and offered a great view of them screaming at each other. Glancing over at another portal, he watched the drama unfold on the training grounds with Nero. Debating whether or not to get involved, his thoughts were interrupted by Arch Mage Mathers. ¡°Well, what do you think? Soul-permeation or Essence disassociation? Are you even listening, Jennings?¡± he asked in a loud and annoyed tone. Turning his head back to the council, he saw them all waiting for his verdict. Why was he always the tie-breaker? ¡°I have no idea,¡± he said with some joy in his voice. ¡°It could be anything. Keep in mind that his soul is huge, it¡¯s not like we¡¯ve seen this before. The closest thing we can compare it to is possession. We know that over time, the soul can influence the body. Particularly in regards to a body¡¯s adaptability. Soul-permeation would only account for his channeling of the previous fighter''s skills from the grounds. It wouldn¡¯t explain his stamina. And as for essence disassociation? I can¡¯t see how his center would be rebuilding his body. When it comes down to it, he¡¯s not even level 10,¡± he said while grinning like a loon. Heads around the table were nodding. Mathers was standing near the scry-portal, looking like he had just sucked on a lemon. Jennings continued, ¡°Did anyone think about the stat imbalances?¡± One mage at the table shot to his feet. ¡°Yes! That¡¯s what I was trying to say. Think about the work done by Mooring out in Candlebrook. Remember all those tests he did about speed optimization? If there was an imbalance between the ¡®speed¡¯ and ¡®recovery¡¯ attributes, subjects would have serious issues with their stamina. Why wouldn¡¯t that apply to power? The boy¡¯s just not strong enough to overcome his recovery attribute,¡± he said as though he was being vindicated. The mage sitting next to him pointed a finger and scowled, saying, ¡°That doesn¡¯t answer the question! If that kind of imbalance was in play, then how did it happen? What caused the imbalance? That¡¯s the issue at hand. Until we answer that question, everything else is just talk.¡± The mage finished his spiteful rant, and crossed his arms angrily. Jennings piped in, ¡°That¡¯s why I think the studies on possession are applicable in this situation. Remember Reinhart¡¯s findings concerning stat changes over time during his observation of the lich¡¯s victims. Those subjects were all victims of forced possessions, while Nero simply found an empty body. It stands to reason that his soul would affect the body to a greater effect while not having an opposing identity to overcome.¡± Mathers chimed in, ¡°That¡¯s a good point. It isn¡¯t inconceivable that his soul is incredibly adaptable. That would affect his body¡¯s ¡®recovery¡¯ and ¡®adaptability¡¯ attribute.¡± Voices all started to try and talk over each other as they argued their views on the subject. Jennings watched an aide walk up to the table and speak, ¡°Sirs, I apologize for interrupting. Arch-mage Cuthbert is needed for her meeting with the Tenebris Corporation.¡± Arch-mage Cuthbert stood up, muttering to herself in anger, then turned to the table and shouted, ¡°I want to watch the rest of this later, so don¡¯t spoil it for me. I don¡¯t want to hear what happens. You all hear me!¡± Following the aid out of the council room, her fellow mages looked on in pity. As the arguing slowly resumed, one of the mages pointed at the giant scry on the wall and shouted, ¡°Everyone shut-up. They found a conference room. 100 lordly valens says that Nero gets her exiled from Dorchester.¡± The room erupted in another argument, as Jennings just smiled at their antics. Mentally putting them on mute, he turned to his other scrying window and watched in curiosity. ----- Nero was standing at the head of the table, pouring himself a coffee. Nick was on his right, while Ms. Averett had taken the seat to his left. Looking at Captain Angelton and Sergeant Wesker, Nero could see their nervousness and shame. The girl Nero had learned was named Rose, was just sitting with her head down, awaiting the verdict. ¡°OK captain, you start. I want to hear what you have to say for yourself,¡± Nero said as he took his seat. His tiny frame looked comical in the giant chair at the head of the table. The serious look on his childish face only adding to the ridiculousness of the situation. Taking a deep breath, Captain Angelton said, ¡°I¡¯ve been told that I have no comment until General Branson arrives.¡± Nero¡¯s eyebrows rose as he realized this must be more serious than he thought. Was there some law they violated which he didn¡¯t know about? Could he use this somehow? Nero looked over at Nick, and saw only confusion on his face. Apparently, Nick wasn¡¯t going to be any help. Luckily, Ms. Averett chimed in. ¡°Messing with the army¡¯s training programs is considered treason. You could argue that what the general did was a gross violation of the military code of conduct. Had he just asked someone to report on you, that wouldn¡¯t qualify. But he inserted someone into an elite training program alongside you.¡± Rose¡¯s eyes were wide with panic as she practically shouted, ¡°I didn¡¯t know any of that. He just asked me if I wanted to be trained to be an elite. What the hell did I get myself into this time?¡± She looked exhausted, and Nero felt the need to step in. Looking across the table, he said, ¡°Rose, may I call you Rose? Don¡¯t worry, this isn¡¯t on you. This is the military¡¯s fuck-up, I¡¯m not going to let them hang you with it. I believe everything you said. Just sit tight, and let me handle it.¡± Captain Angelton looked offended and said, ¡°Oh, you¡¯ll handle it? I don¡¯t think you¡¯re in a-¡± Nero interrupted him with a voice filled with venom. ¡°Yes I¡¯ll handle it. I knew that some nobles would be paying to get their spies in with the recruits, maybe even some assassins. But you¡¯re the military. You¡¯re supposed to serve the people. Now you got caught with your hand in the political cookie jar. And guess what? While we were walking, I¡¯ve already passed along the particulars of this incident to my proxy. She¡¯s more than capable of contacting a few news agencies and people with some social clout. What do you think will happen to your career when General Branson is brought in front of the Populators for the charge of interfering with a training program meant to spear-head the coming insanity?¡± Nero finished with a scowl on his face, while practically spitting his words at a cowed Captain Angelton. Nick looked like he wanted to be anywhere other than where he was. Ms. Averett was smiling so widely that she looked like she had won the lottery. A stern faced Sergeant Wesker just nodded in agreement. Nero gave the captain a nod, recognizing the captain¡¯s surrender. ¡°Now we¡¯re going to sit here and wait for the general to arrive. In the meantime, I want you to authorize my access to the hub on site. While it doesn¡¯t seem to have an issue connecting me to the city, I can¡¯t look up anything. I want to review the pertinent laws.¡± Captain Angelton looked at Nero with some trepidation. Their staring contest ended when his shoulders slumped and he looked down in defeat. Moments later, Nero felt the link in his pocket offer a connection to the military¡¯s hub. The group sat in silence as they waited for the general to arrive. Nero spent his time sipping coffee and going over the training regulations. He was also in contact with Vera, who was pointing him toward the sections he had to look up. She was running a tandem investigation with a friend of hers who had some experience with the military¡¯s code of conduct. Despite all their efforts, it turned out that the general hadn¡¯t technically broken any rules. It was a gray area. Vera proposed that Nero just ask for the spy in question, Rose, to be exiled from Dorchester. That would allow House Walker to save face and to show they wouldn¡¯t be pushed around. Nero didn¡¯t like the idea that she would be treated like a scapegoat. Rose hadn¡¯t actually done anything, and from what Nero could tell, she wasn¡¯t planning on doing anything. This book was originally published on Royal Road. Check it out there for the real experience. What Nero really needed was to get the general on his side, and for that he would need to re-frame the argument. When you don¡¯t want to talk about one issue, you have to demand to talk about something else. He¡¯d seen politicians do it for years. Nero needed to do some ¡®speechifying¡¯. Around 20 minutes later, the general strode into the room with two aides trailing behind him. He had a look of stern disapproval on his face. Everyone other than Nero shot to their feet, while Nero just offered a gesture to the opposite head of the table and said, ¡°Thank you for joining us. We have a lot to talk about.¡± The general sniffed at the disrespect, but took his seat. His aides flanked him and stood at attention, adding to his intimidating appearance. Nero had seen better displays on TV, so he didn¡¯t bat an eye. The general got comfortable and said, ¡°So I hear you have taken issue with your training? You want to quit?¡± Nero just smirked and replied, ¡°If that¡¯s what you¡¯ve heard, I can see why you started recruiting spies from outside the military. Your intelligence gathering needs some work.¡± The general¡¯s face contorted in repressed fury. ¡°Alright boy, what¡¯s this about?¡± Nero raised an eyebrow and replied, ¡°First, as this isn¡¯t a training environment, it¡¯s Lord Walker to you. Second, it has come to my attention that you hired a former assassin¡¯s apprentice to join my training group with orders to spy on me. Whether or not those were the only orders given is a cause of concern for House Walker. Do you deny it?¡± The general¡¯s poker-face was carved from stone as he replied, ¡°I don¡¯t think you should take the word of an assassin over mine. If you have a problem with her being here, I¡¯m more than happy to remove her from the program. Now if that¡¯s all, I have more important things to deal with.¡± Acting as though the meeting was over, the general started to stand. Nero smiled and said, ¡°That won¡¯t be necessary. She is now under my protection. You can¡¯t just get rid of her.¡± Rose¡¯s face was pale, and she looked like she was facing her execution. Her head whipped to Nero as he spoke, her eyes wide in shock. The general paused, half standing, and stared at Nero. Nero leaned back in his chair, and picked up his coffee. ¡°You know general, everyone has things that they hate. They might not admit it. They might just think that they avoid what bothers them. But deep down, they know they hate it. They can try and deny it, find reasons other than hate for their actions, but a lot of the time it boils down to hate,¡± Nero said as though he was just having a chat with friends. The room sat in silence while Nero took a sip of coffee. Setting down his cup, Nero leaned forward and his face lost its smile. ¡°One of the things I hate is when people in power abuse their position. Government officials doing dirty deeds and then wiping their hands clean, as if nothing had happened. For me, it¡¯s not the fact that they are using their position for their own ends, it¡¯s the people they negatively impact while doing so. I hate seeing individuals charged with the protection of the people ignore that duty for petty gains,¡± said Nero, his voice cold and hard. Raising his hand, he gestured to Rose. ¡°She was a hunter. When she found out that she was being asked to partake in an assassination, she protested. She was a hunter. You offered her a chance to be an elite monster hunter, at a time when Dorchester needs all the hunters it can get. She was a hunter. You told her that she had to spy in order to hunt. She was a hunter. Do you see where I¡¯m going with this?¡± he asked. The general¡¯s face was pulled tight, his neck muscles trembling in anger. He said, ¡°I didn¡¯t make her an assassin, or a spy. I just offered her an opportunity. There are several spies for noble houses in this program, one more hardly matters. I know for a fact that all of them are under orders to only report on your training, nothing more. You¡¯re in no danger from them.¡± Nero slapped his hand on the table, and said, ¡°Now we¡¯re talking! So since she¡¯s found out, you¡¯re just going to ¡®disappear¡¯ her somewhere and wash your hands of it. How very ¡®noble¡¯ of you.¡± The general put his hands on the table and stood up. He shouted in anger, ¡°I wasn¡¯t going to kill her! I was just going to send her to another unit. What kind of soldier do you think I am?¡± Nero didn¡¯t seem intimidated, and shouted right back, ¡°I think you¡¯re the kind of soldier who places a spy in a training program to watch how a new noble progresses. The kind of soldier who skirts the rules for ¡®the greater good¡¯. One who is so used to dealing with politicians that he has become one.¡± Nero¡¯s words were like hammers on the general¡¯s psyche. Everyone in the room could feel it. While most people shrank into their seats, Ms. Averett was still smiling, enjoying the show. The general straightened his tabard and returned to his seat. In a tight voice he said, ¡°I¡¯m sorry you feel that way. How do you wish to proceed?¡± Nero took a moment to stare at the general. After judging his ¡®stick¡¯ a success, now it was time for the ¡®carrot¡¯. ¡°I suggest you return to your roots. This world is all about growth, right? You were a soldier. No one becomes a general without having once served with all their heart. With what Dorchester is facing, it¡¯s time to put aside the games of nobility and face the coming storm as a soldier once again,¡± Nero said with some heat in his voice. Confused faces looked at Nero as he stood up and placed his hands on the table like a leader addressing his troops. ¡°Send away the spies, and bring in people who are here for the same reason we are. We are training to eliminate the threats from outside Dorchester. That needs to be our focus. Offer Rose the position you promised her, and do right by your soldier. Train us to meet the challenge we¡¯ve chosen to face,¡± Nero spoke clearly and concisely. He could see the general firming in his seat. All of the military men were sitting a little straighter. Nero knew that anyone in uniform will respond to a good pre-game speech. Standing up straight, Nero raised his chin and tried to look as distinguished as possible. ¡°In short, be the general that you know you should be. I read the knights code. I know every officer in Dorchester has to face the trials of knighthood and speak the oath of service. Live up to your pledge and face all enemies both inside and outside these walls! Let no noble stand in the way of your duty to the people you¡¯ve sworn to protect!¡± Nero was nearly shouting as he finished. The general looked like he was straining to sit still. Even his aides were nearly vibrating in place. The military men were sitting at attention like they were listening to Churchill shout ¡®Never Surrender¡¯. Nero knew it was time to bring it home. Snapping to attention and offering a salute, Nero read the knight¡¯s pledge he had brought up on his link. His voice loud and clear, he said, ¡°I will stand in front of the innocent, for my struggle is with the guilty. I will allow no evil to taint my soul, for my struggle is with the corrupt. I am never alone, for I am one of many.¡± As Nero spoke, all of the military men shot to their feet and saluted. Every one of them joining their voices to Nero¡¯s as he continued, ¡°We stand on the walls and face the wilds, for we know our purpose. We are the Knights of Oglivarch, and civilization is our charge. My Body. My Mind. My Soul. I know who I am. My center is Respect. My Center is Duty. My center is Me. I am a Knight of Oglivarch, and I shall not fail.¡± They were all nearly shouting by the end. Rather than let an awkward silence descend, Nero looked at the proud soldiers standing at attention and said, ¡°That is how I wish to move forward general.¡± Turning to his left, he continued, ¡°Sergeant Wesker, I believe we still have some time for close-quarters combat. And I know that I have a great deal to learn.¡± After receiving a nod from a stern faced Wesker, Nero turned back to the general and said, ¡°I¡¯ll let you do what you think is right. For now, I believe my training group has an appointment with training ring 2. May we be excused, Sir?¡± Nero¡¯s eyes were alight with fire, his expression as stern as a 14 year old¡¯s could be. The general was psyched. He looked like he was ready to face a wyvern in single combat. Staring across the table, he locked eyes with Nero and said, ¡°You are excused Lord Walker. Train well, and bring destruction to our enemies.¡± Giving the general a firm nod, followed by a small smirk, Nero turned on his heel and walked out of the room. As the rest of Nero¡¯s training group stood up to follow him, they heard Nero from outside the door. ¡°Come along Sarge, no one¡¯s kicked my ass today and it¡¯s almost lunch. I better be crying by dinner or I¡¯ll make you talk to the general again.¡± One of the aides burst into laughter, but quickly stifled it. ¡°Sorry Sir,¡± he said, then followed it up with a cough. Nick and Rose just left without making eye contact with anyone, while Ms. Averett was nearly skipping with joy. The remaining military men looked as if they were struggling to choose an emotion. Pride in their purpose was warring with their confusion as to what just happened. Standing there at the table, they all just looked at each other. The general was the one to break the silence with a wide smile on his face. ¡°Sergeant Wesker, you heard Lord Walker. I don¡¯t think he¡¯s bluffing, so you¡¯d better get to it. Captain Angelton, you stay. We¡¯ve got some changes to make. I¡¯ll be damned if I let some useless nobles interfere with our troops.¡± Sergeant Wesker and Captain Angelton snapped off a salute and shouted, ¡°Yes, Sir!¡± As the sergeant ran after his recruits, the general sat down and said, ¡°That young man is something, isn¡¯t he?¡± Captain Angelton muttered, ¡°I wish he would be a little less of whatever that something is.¡± The same aid stifled another burst of laughter. ¡°Sorry Sir. Won¡¯t happen again,¡± he said as he tried, but failed, to look serious. Chapter 68 - A world without scars. Sergeant Wesker had been training soldiers for the past 10 years. Before that, he¡¯d fought in units that faced class 3 threats regularly. He¡¯d even faced a few class 4¡¯s and lived to tell the tale. He knew his business. When he was told that he was going to train a new class of elites, he was ready. Elites were offered the best of everything, but thrown into the worst combat environments available. To say he was excited, was an understatement on par with pointing at a black brick of meat, and calling it slightly overcooked. Watching his 4 recruits train, he was no longer so enthused with the assignment. The older woman was vicious, and to be honest, kinda scared him. The older man obviously didn¡¯t want to be here. The young woman was too timid, she obviously didn¡¯t want to offend anybody. And the boy was just weird. Wesker had them doing counter-attack drills in pairs. One person throws a punch, the other blocks and counters. The older man, Nick, was with the former assassin, Rose. While the boy, Nero, was with the crazy woman, Cathleen. Neither group was doing what he asked, and he just watched as they worked very hard on ignoring the task they had been given. Rose and Nick were making half-hearted attacks at each other, but their conversation was lively. Nick was reassuring her about her future, and seemed to be offering her a job on behalf of his wife. Yet it was Cathleen and Nero who had him hesitating to call a halt to the training. Normally, he¡¯d start yelling and get his recruits to focus on what they were supposed to be doing. Yet, he was hesitant to interrupt the woman and the boy. Cathleen kept knocking Nero down, and the boy kept getting back up. He¡¯d throw a punch, she¡¯d counter it, then knock him on his ass. Wesker had seen her elbow him in the face, kick him in the nuts, throw him over her shoulder to land face first in the dirt, and even grab him by the back of the head and plant her knee between his eyes. Wesker watched as Nero stumbled to his feet, spit out more blood onto the dirt, and said, ¡°OK. That one hurt a little bit.¡± Rather than wait for a medic, Nero picked a tooth up from the pile of blood he just expelled. After dusting it off, he shoved it back into his mouth with a grimace. Amazed, Wesker watched as Nero cast a quick healing spell, then started jumping up and down as if he were just getting started. ¡°Alright old woman! Just ¡®cause you look like a fitness model, doesn¡¯t mean that I won¡¯t whoop your ass. Let¡¯s do this,¡± said Nero, psyching himself up. He walked straight at a smiling Cathleen with his fists in the air as if he were a boxer. She stood patiently, loose hands held ready near her chest as if she were waiting to catch a ball. Nero started swinging before he was close enough to hit her. In order to close the distance, he jumped forward turning his swing into the mother of all haymakers. Cathleen took half a step forward and received Nero¡¯s blow on her left forearm. Her right hand performed a front punch directly into Nero¡¯s face. As he was already in the air, the rest of his body kept going forward while his head snapped back. Wesker appreciated the air-time, but the show ended with Nero out-cold on the ground¡­ again. Shaking his head, he didn¡¯t know what he was supposed to do. None of these people should be elites. This was ridiculous. As he was about to call a halt to the training, he heard the Sergeant Blackwood¡¯s essence infused voice echo across the field. ¡°All teams, switch to weapon¡¯s training!¡± he said. Wesker watched as Cathleen kicked Nero in order to wake him up, while Rose and Nick were smiling and chatting like they were at a cafe. ¡®I¡¯m sure this isn¡¯t going to be a disaster,¡¯ he said to himself. ----- Nero came to with a start. He was staring at the sky again, which meant he must have been knocked out again. Rolling over, Nero¡¯s mind caught up with what had happened. Cracking a smile, Nero stood up on shaky legs. He loved this world. He¡¯d once been knocked out in his old world. It had been during football practice from a helmet on helmet illegal tackle (which was totally on purpose). So, he knew from experience that short term memories normally weren¡¯t able to be recovered after a good knock on the head. But here, everything was different. Nero felt like he had an external backup. He could remember everything, the feeling of Ms. Averett¡¯s fist smashing into his face, the scent of the dirt as he landed flat on his back. It was like the world was in HD for the first time. Yet the best part was the pain. Pain used to hurt. But here, getting smacked in the face was like getting slapped on the wrist. Everything felt the same, but the terror and recoil seemed unnecessary. A quick little spell, and everything was right as rain. Healing magic was the greatest thing Nero had ever seen. It made everything almost surreal. Life was without consequences. Cathleen even said that the medics could bring people who died, at least those recently killed, back from the dead! ¡®Take away the consequences, and pain is just an annoyance,¡± thought Nero. Dusting himself off, Nero felt his face to see how bad it was. Wincing at his flattened nose, and probable facial fracture, Nero forced the cartilage back into place. Looking over, he could see Ms. Averett watching him with that infuriating smile of hers. Nero cast a quick healing spell, and felt the annoyance go away. Before he could mouth off again, Ms. Averett said, ¡°The call went out. We¡¯re switching to weapons training. You would have heard it, but you were taking a nap. Did you enjoy it?¡± Nero offered her a grin and replied, ¡°You don¡¯t get to be this good looking if you don¡¯t take time for proper rest and relaxation. I¡¯m just getting better looking. You didn¡¯t knock me out, that was just part of my skin-care routine.¡± Turning on his heel, Nero walked off toward Sergeant Wesker. The sergeant looked tired. Nick and Rose were chatting next to him, obviously annoying the poor man. Nero thought he should offer some encouragement, so he said, ¡°Alright Sarge, what¡¯s next? Hand to hand was very informative, but maybe we could learn something. Training is great, but it¡¯s kinda hard to practice skills that you don¡¯t have.¡± Sergeant Wesker gave Nero a look like he was an idiot. ¡°Haven¡¯t you been paying attention to the hints from the training field?¡± he asked in confusion. Nick, hearing their conversation, spoke up, ¡°Don¡¯t mind Nero. He doesn¡¯t know how training fields work.¡± Turning to Nero, he continued, ¡°Nero, this field has been a training facility for a long time; hundreds of years. The essence in the air here is full of the memories of all those warriors who bled on this field. You need to open yourself up to them, let them guide you. The forms and basics are easy to pick up if you just listen to the world around you.¡± This tale has been pilfered from Royal Road. If found on Amazon, kindly file a report. Nero stared at Nick with a blank look. ¡°You¡¯re telling me that training here is just getting your ass-kicked by people better than you, until you finally figure it out on your own?¡± Rose, Nick, and Ms. Averett all replied at the same time, ¡°Yes.¡± Nero looked around and saw that they were all serious. ¡°So weapons training will just be me going over to that rack over there, grabbing a training sword, and getting beat on by Ms. Averett?¡± Nero said while pointing at Ms. Averett. If it were possible, Nero thought she was smiling even wider than before. ¡°Call me Cathleen. Now let¡¯s go. We¡¯ll start with your suggestion: swords,¡± she said while pushing Nero toward the racks. As he stumbled off, Nero could hear the sergeant telling Nick and Rose to start taking their training seriously. Soon enough, Nero and Cathleen were at the weapon racks. ¡°Choose a sword that feels comfortable. Because you¡¯re so tiny, you might want to get a long dagger instead,¡± said Cathleen while she was picking her Nero-beating stick. Nero snorted at the joke, and grabbed a short sword that seemed alright. Turning back to the training ring, he walked off saying, ¡°You know, I¡¯m still growing. But you are going to be stuck at your height for the rest of your life. Enjoy your advantage while you can.¡± Nero dropped to his knees as he felt a line of pain erupt on his back. ¡°Pay attention to your surroundings,¡± said Cathleen. Nero forced himself to stand while Cathleen took her position in front of him. She took a fighting stance with her one-handed sword angled across her chest, and her feet shoulder-width apart while her left foot was forward. Nero didn¡¯t take a stance and instead said, ¡°Hold on a sec. How does this ¡®open yourself to the world¡¯ thing work. I¡¯m all for learning how to fight, but I¡¯m not sure I gained anything useful from having my ass kicked by you for the last hour.¡± Lowering her sword and standing up straight, Cathleen looked at Nero as if she didn¡¯t understand what he was asking. ¡°You really don¡¯t know what Nick was talking about? Then what the hell were you doing while we were training?¡± Nero replied, ¡°I was trying to hit you. I don¡¯t really know how to fight. I¡¯ve seen people fight, but I¡¯ve never been taught or anything. I thought you¡¯d eventually get tired of kicking my ass and just tell me what I was doing wrong. Listening to ¡®the world talking¡¯, wasn¡¯t part of the plan. So do you mind telling me how I do that?¡± Cathleen was trying to understand, ¡°So you just ¡®tried¡¯ to get better, without learning anything? That¡¯s idiotic.¡± Nero looked at her with a scowl, and said, ¡°Look lady, I didn¡¯t know I was supposed to be doing anything. I thought ¡®trainers¡¯ would train me. Just show me how to learn. Less judging, more explaining.¡± Chuckling, Cathleen shoved her dull training sword into the ground. Letting go of the handle, the sword stayed put, and she crossed her arms. ¡°Alright, take a fighting stance. Close your eyes. Let your senses expand, and release your control over the essence around you,¡± she said. Nero followed her instructions, and said, ¡°That¡¯s fine, my mage-armor did jack shit against you anyway. You tore through it like it wasn¡¯t there. I don¡¯t think it is as useful as advertised.¡± Cathleen asked, ¡°Mage-armor?¡± Nero kept his eyes closed and tried to listen to the world while he replied, ¡°Jennings called it an essence-shield. It¡¯s good for stopping spells, but you were right when you warned me not to rely on it too much. I¡¯m lucky that the assassin didn¡¯t just punch me in the arena. Physical contact disrupts it too much. All it does is blunt a strike or two. It worked alright on Rose, but it was useless against you.¡± Cathleen said, ¡°You¡¯ll get better at keeping it active. Most battles come down to a contest of wills. If your will to defend is stronger than your opponent¡¯s will to overcome that defense, your shield will hold. When you¡¯re reaching out to the world, keep your ¡®mage-armor¡¯ on. Training in real world conditions is always preferable to training in safety.¡± Nero opened his eyes and looked over at Cathleen. ¡°How the hell am I supposed to ¡®release my hold on the ambient essence¡¯ while holding on to an essence shield?¡± he asked. With a shrug, Cathleen said, ¡°How am I supposed to know, I¡¯m not a mage. Figure it out.¡± Nero gave her an annoyed huff and said, ¡°Fine. Shut up for a second and let me concentrate.¡± Hearing her chuckle, Nero closed his eyes and recreated his armor. By this point, it was as easy as breathing. He felt the essence shield form and compress without issue. Spreading out his psychic field, Nero tried to stop ¡®looking¡¯ and start ¡®feeling¡¯. He didn¡¯t know what he was supposed to be feeling, but he was going to take their word for it. This whole world worked on spiritualism transformed into reality. He just needed to let the world guide him. Trying to clear his mind, Nero felt a little uncomfortable. Adjusting his stance a little, he felt better. Before he could try again, he heard Cathleen say, ¡°Wow, that was fast for a first timer. It usually takes a little longer for kids to get the hang of it.¡± Nero opened his eyes in confusion. ¡°Get the hang of what? What are you talking about?¡± he asked. Cocking her head, she replied, ¡°You listened to what the world was telling you, and fixed your stance. That¡¯s all there is too it.¡± Nero looked at the woman like she was speaking gibberish. Before he insulted her, he took a moment to think about it. He did feel a little nudge to change his stance. It wasn¡¯t like a voice or anything, it was more like a gut feeling. His stance hadn¡¯t felt right. Is that an active thing? Could Nero keep that up during a fight? He asked Cathleen, ¡°If people can just channel the fighting skills from the world, what makes someone better at fighting? How is every match between warriors not a draw?¡± With a smile she said, ¡°It¡¯s very difficult to improve. Time and training are necessary to internalize what you learn. Everyone is different. Size, speed, dexterity, all of these are unique. People can improve by listening to the world, but you¡¯re really creating your own style of fighting. The way someone else fights won¡¯t work for you. You have to take the time to improve on your own. Training is just taking the time to work at it. Now stop asking questions. Try and swing the sword while focusing on what the world is telling you.¡± Nero nodded, his excitement building. Closing his eyes, he started to slowly swing his sword in overhand chops. Instead of letting his mind drift, he reached out to the world. His psychic field hummed in tune with the surroundings. Nero felt little nudges improving his form. Tiny little improvements with every swing. He started changing the angle of his swings, altering the trajectory with smooth transitions. The feeling was intoxicating. It was like moving meditation, and Nero felt like he was a laser-sword wielding magician. Smiling from ear to ear, Nero started dancing. While ignoring the physical world around him, he was at one with the essence in the air. Flitting about like a martial artist during a competition, Nero fluidly stepped through an impromptu sword form. Letting his instincts guide him, he let the world teach him how to wield a sword. ¡°Nice job. Now you have to actually try to fight. Stop prancing around like a little kid in a garden, we¡¯ve got training to do,¡± said Cathleen. Shaken out of his trance, Nero stumbled a little. Opening his eyes, he looked over at Cathleen standing in her fighting stance. She was grinning like she had just been served a steak. Nero thought she looked hungry. ¡®Well, this is going to suck. On the other hand, it can¡¯t be worse than hand to hand,¡¯ Nero thought while taking his fighting stance. 5 seconds later, Nero was lying on his back after having the wind knocked out him. His back was bruised, and he thought his forearm was broken. Looking at the sky, he panted and coughed, trying to force air back into his lungs. Nero winced as he rolled onto his side and started hacking up some blood. ¡®OK. I was wrong, this is worse,¡¯ he thought. While Nero was focusing on his recovery, he heard Cathleen shout happily, ¡°MEDIC! RING 2! Might want to assign someone to stick around. We¡¯ve got a delicate flower over here!¡± Chapter 69 - And then there were 4. Nick was enjoying training, it was much less intense then he thought it would be. In fact, Rose was a wonderful conversation partner. Interspersed throughout their conversation, they heard Nero cursing out Cathleen, but they were far enough away that they could ignore it. Sergeant Wesker¡¯s shouting was much harder to ignore. Nick thought the man was an exceedingly angry person. ¡°Stop poking at each other! Fight, damn it!¡± Nick heard Wesker shout from behind him. Ignoring the sergeant, Nick continued with his lazy swings. Rose was torn, as she didn¡¯t want to offend either of the men. Nick was a noble, and a powerful one at that. If he weren¡¯t, he wouldn¡¯t be here. The fact that he was smiling while he trained was proof that he was powerful enough to ignore the army. Here he was, in the middle of an elite training program, ignoring the trainer like it was totally normal. Did the sergeant really expect her to attack a noble capable of that? Nick, completely unconcerned with everyone¡¯s feelings, continued with what he had been talking about for the past 30 minutes. ¡°So, there I was, completely at a loss. No data to back up my argument, surrounded on all sides by senior laboratory technicians, not to mention the scientists with hundreds of years of experience between them.¡± Nick¡¯s face was serious as he waved his sword at Rose in a half-hearted attempt to hit her. ¡°But would I give up? No, never! I attacked the very foundation of their flimsy hypothesis! If they truly believed that essence drift was a naturally occurring phenomena, then they would have to have performed their test in an isolated zone. Yet, all of their data was from the area outside Dorchester! The essence flows in the wilds have always been known to be highly delicate,¡± he shouted as he danced around swinging his sword like a 1940¡¯s movie star. Wesker shouted, ¡°Less talking! More fighting!¡± Ignoring him, Nick continued, ¡°They were stunned! I pulled up Harold¡¯s dissertation on essence field interactions, and that was the match! No one with a mind stat over 10 could argue with evidence like that. I was vindicated. So¡­ what were we talking about again?¡± Rose was barely moving, and she lazily swatted aside Nick¡¯s thrust while replying, ¡°I just asked if you¡¯ve ever been in a fight before m¡¯lord. But your story was very riveting.¡± Rose tried to muster up all the sincerity she could, in order to deliver that last line without cringing. Wesker¡¯s face was beet-red in anger. And just as he was about to lose it, he heard Cathleen shouting, ¡°Medic! He¡¯s down again. You might need a resuscitation spell, he landed weird.¡± As the blood drained from his face, Wesker ran over to Cathleen and Nero. Looking down, he could see an immobile Nero with his head at an awkward angle. Eyes open in panic, his neck was clearly broken. Turning to Cathleen he shouted, ¡°What the hell are you doing? Are you crazy?¡± Seeming completely at ease, Cathleen responded with a wave of her hand, ¡°Eh, he¡¯ll be fine. Dying a few times during training is not a big deal.¡± As she was speaking, the medic was casting spells at Nero. They all heard the snap as his neck was reattached. As the golden glow enveloping Nero dimmed, he gasped awake. As Nero¡¯s eyes snapped open, he took a deep breath and started coughing. ¡°See,¡± said Cathleen. ¡°He¡¯s fine.¡± Giving Nero a light kick to his side, she said, ¡°Get up. Walk it off.¡± Nero slowly rolled over onto his hands and knees. Reaching out with his hand, he grabbed his training blade, and used it to help him stand. Swaying on his feet, his eyes were still a little glassy. Shaking his head to clear the disorientation, Nero focused on Cathleen and said, ¡°That one doesn¡¯t count. I definitely got a hit in! You hit me in the back of the head while I was celebrating! Fight with some class you old bat!¡± Shouting back, she yelled, ¡°That was barely a scratch! I¡¯ll tell you when you hit me. Never drop your guard unless the enemy is in pieces at your feet. And who you calling a bat? You pint-sized pansy!¡± Nick, Rose, and Wesker just watched in stunned silence, while the medic sighed and returned to the bench outside the ring where he was stationed. This was going to be a long day for him, he could feel it. Sergeant Wesker watched the two recruits yell at each other, trying to decide if he should be impressed with their moxie, or terrified of their insanity. Before he could make a decision, his thoughts were interrupted by Nick grabbing Rose and walking back toward their training area to continue their conversation. Nick was saying, ¡°Don¡¯t worry about Nero. He¡¯s very hard to kill. I should tell you about the time I nearly died trying to contain a lightning bolt. See the theory I was testing was based on Mason¡¯s theoretical model of -¡± As Nick¡¯s voice trailed off in the distance, Sergeant Wesker wondered if the captain would accept his transfer request. ----- Their little group of four had finally made it to lunch. Nero had forced them all to sit together. He told them it was for team unity. As no one had complained, Nero counted it as a successful team building moment. While eating, everyone was silent aside from Nick. Waving his fork around, Nick continued his blathering, ¡°And that¡¯s when I decided to change my focus. It was never really about the initial paradigm. You see? It was always really about the way the enchantments were initially constructed. It took a lot to convince the research board to allow me to resubmit my proposal. You can only imagine what I went through. But I persevered! A month later, I was -¡± Nero couldn¡¯t take it anymore and interrupted, ¡°Nick! For the love of whatever god you believe in, shut the hell up. No one cares.¡± Nero¡¯s eyes were furious, his anger had been building for too long, and now the last thing on his mind was being polite to the nerd across from him. Looking over at Rose, Nero asked, ¡°Has he been like this all day?¡± Rose¡¯s face turned a cute shade of red and replied quietly, ¡°M¡¯lord, he seems to really like science. I was honored to hear his thoughts on the subject, or the subjects that is.¡± Nero¡¯s brain stopped working for a second. This was not the personality that he imagined the woman having. He had expected a warrior woman like Cathleen, not a polite and deferential student. Her adorable blush and soft voice were completely surprising. While Nick stabbed his food with a pout, Cathleen filled the silence, ¡°You don¡¯t have to listen to him if you don¡¯t want to. You¡¯re in training, just hit him until he shuts up.¡± Nick glared at Cathleen and said, ¡°Not everyone thinks so little of the field of science. Many people consider researchers worthy of great respect.¡± This story originates from Royal Road. Ensure the author gets the support they deserve by reading it there. Mentally catching up to the conversation, Nero gave Nick a look and said, ¡°I¡¯m sure that¡¯s true. But not the time, and definitely not the place. We¡¯re here to learn how to survive against giant monsters, not how to ¡­. whatever it is you do.¡± Turning his head to look at Rose, he asked, ¡°Has he been training? Or just talking about science?¡± Rose started to look panicked and began mumbling. Seeing her distress, Nero set down his silverware and raised his hands to calm her down. ¡°Hold on, why are you so afraid? We took care of the problem with the military, you¡¯re safe now. No one is going to harm you. You can speak freely.¡± Rose''s eyes darted between them, and Nick realized that she was just being overly polite. He had seen commoners fear nobles like this. It usually meant the commoner had come from a village, and had never met a noble. But sometimes, there was history that needed to be addressed. The thought of someone hurting this sweet girl made Nick¡¯s anger rise. Nick looked at Rose and his face took on the aspect of nobility. ¡°I understand that you fear upsetting those you see as noble. But have no fear, we will not harm you. If you don¡¯t mind, I would like to hear what caused you to fear the nobility. If there is a story, rest assured you will be protected while you share it,¡± he said with a tone of formality. Nero looked confused, but quickly caught up. ¡°If someone has messed with you, trust me, this is the guy you tell. His wife will handle it. You didn¡¯t hear it from me, but city-lords fear her,¡± he said quietly. Rose offered only a confused tilt of her head. She didn¡¯t know what they were getting at. Cathleen jumped in to clear up the confusion, ¡°They¡¯re saying that you can say whatever you want. If a noble has harmed you or if you know them to be dishonorable, they¡¯ll take care of it. Don¡¯t worry about any danger, these two are more than capable of setting things right." Rose¡¯s eyes lit up in understanding, then quickly dimmed. She looked at Nick and Nero and said, ¡°No, there is no noble threatening me or anything. I have never met, or interacted with a noble before meeting you both. It¡¯s just, based on our history, I want to stay on your good side. If it weren¡¯t for you, who knows what the general would have done. To be honest, without your backing, I¡¯m in some serious trouble.¡± Nero thought he understood her position, and said, ¡°I get it. You¡¯re worried we¡¯ll hang you out to dry. You don¡¯t have to be. If you want to leave Dorchester and start over somewhere, Nick¡¯s wife and I own a shipping company. I¡¯m sure we can get you a ride on a caravan. But if you don¡¯t mind me saying, I think you should stick it out here. The general isn¡¯t a bad guy, just a politician. Now that you are no longer a spy, you¡¯re just one of the soldiers. You wanted to be a hunter, and this way, you can be an elite.¡± Nick and Cathleen were both nodding at Nero¡¯s words, and Rose was frowning in thought. Nero continued, ¡°If you stay, you¡¯re going to have to start actually training with Nick. He knows what¡¯s at stake, and should have been taking his training more seriously. I¡¯m pretty sure Cathleen and I are going to be each other¡¯s training partners for a while, but if you feel like he is acting too nerdy, just ask to switch with one of us for a while. We¡¯ll sort him out right quick.¡± As Nero finished, Cathleen offered Nick a wide smile. Nero chuckled as Nick¡¯s face paled. Nero added, ¡°And if all else fails, I could just tell Vera on him. His wife will get him back on track in no time.¡± Nick glared at Nero, and said, ¡°That¡¯s completely unnecessary. I may have been a little light in my training today, but it¡¯s only the first day. I¡¯ll improve with some time. We¡¯ve got 9 more days until we are heading into the wilds. Plenty of time to brush up on my combat skills.¡± Cathleen snorted and said, ¡°Elite training is meant to be brutal. But all training relies on your will to complete it. If you don¡¯t push yourself, you won¡¯t grow. No one grows without effort.¡± Nick nodded as his shoulders slumped. He knew that he was going to have to start stepping up. Nero was nearly finished with his plate when he heard a shout from the door of the mess hall. ¡°Everyone back onto the field. Lunch time¡¯s over,¡± they said. In less than 5 minutes, all the recruits were standing in two lines of ten waiting to be addressed by the Captain. Nero was excited to get started, this afternoon should be combat-casting, or what Nero had decided to call ¡®war-mage training¡¯. Captain Angelton stepped out in front of the recruits, his towering frame casting a long shadow. With his arms behind his back, and gigantic chin, Nero thought the captain looked like an action figure come to life. As the captain¡¯s eyes took in the recruits, Nero realized that this might not just be about afternoon training. In a loud voice, the captain addressed the recruits, ¡°Yesterday I talked about how we were all here to become elites. Regardless of your background, you were united in purpose. Unfortunately, I was mistaken. It has come to my attention that many of you have come here with a different primary purpose. This is not acceptable.¡± The captain started pacing, and continued, ¡°Noble houses are an integral part of what makes up Oglivarch. But, the army is no place for politics. The games we play here are about war. Some of you probably thought you could do both, be an elite, and a spy at the same time. I won¡¯t stand for it. We are here for training, nothing else. If you still want to be elites, come talk with me after you pack. Either way, your time here, short as it was, is over.¡± The captain finished with ice in his voice. Nero could practically feel his blood chilling. Shouting loud enough to make everyone jump, the captain yelled, ¡°Squad 4! Front and Center!¡± It took a second or two for Nero to realize that he was on squad 4. Once he did, he ran up to the front of the lines and took his place next to Cathleen and Rose. Nick wasn¡¯t far behind. The captain stood in front of them and said, ¡°Squad 4, you¡¯re to follow Sergeant Wesker for afternoon training. Dismissed.¡± As the captain turned to face the remaining recruits, squad 4 sprinted off toward Sergeant Wesker who was standing off to the side. When squad 4 stood at attention in front of him, Wesker nodded in greeting and said, ¡°Verena and Walker are with Specialist Howard for combat-casting. Vikander is with Sergeant Peyton for Archery and ability training. Recruit Averett, I see that you are proficient in several weapons. What would you like to focus on today?¡± Cathleen replied in a stern tone, devoid of levity, ¡°I¡¯ll accompany Recruit Vikander with Sergeant Peyton. I could use some range time.¡± Nodding, Sergeant Wesker made a note on his board, then pointed to his right, ¡°Peyton¡¯s over there at the archery range. You two are dismissed.¡± While Rose and Cathleen jogged off toward the range, the sergeant turned to Nero and Nick saying, ¡°Follow me. You¡¯ll be in one of the training halls. Combat casting outside of a training room is just asking for trouble.¡± Nick and Nero both followed along dutifully. But while Nero looked excited, Nick only looked like he was going to remedial geometry. Nero saw his friends lack of enthusiasm and slapped his shoulder. ¡°Hey man, lighten up. We¡¯re going to be learning how to fight with magic!¡± said Nero with a smile on his face. While the three of them walked into the main building, Nick replied, ¡°Nero, you have to understand. I¡¯ve already learned how to fight with magic. I doubt there is anything that I¡¯ll learn here, but I¡¯m more than happy to accompany you.¡± Sergeant Wesker just snorted with some disdain. ¡°I¡¯m sure your training was extensive at center-point, but Specialist Howard is a war-mage. He¡¯ll have plenty to teach you,¡± he said. Nero thought for a second and asked, ¡°Does the ¡®listening to the world¡¯ thing happen with magic? How come I never read about that?¡± Nick shook his head, and replied with a smile at Nero¡¯s ignorance, ¡°Magic is a completely different thing. By its very nature, it¡¯s manipulating essence by your will. You can learn from the world how to feel essence, manipulate it even. But what to cast? How to form a spell? Those aren¡¯t skills, it¡¯s knowledge.¡± Nick glanced at Nero and realized the boy was still confused. Not knowing how to be any clearer, he tried to rephrase it. ¡°Fighting has to do with the body learning a skill. The knowledge of how to wield a blade is something the world can teach you. But when to swing it, that¡¯s not something you can learn without practice. The two working in concert is the skill. But the world can only help you with the beginning steps into magic. Creating the weapon, wielding the weapon, and choosing the weapon are all in the mind. Fighting skills is the body, Magic skills are the mind. Get it?¡± They reached their destination, and walked into a very large training room. A man was standing in the center of the room playing with some streams of fire and what looked like glowing water. Nero assumed the man was Specialist Howard. Turning to Nick, Nero said, ¡°I don¡¯t understand what you just said, but I¡¯ll take your word for it. Let¡¯s go meet our new magic teacher. And try not to embarrass me, I want to learn everything the guy is willing to teach me, as fast as he can cram it into my head.¡± Nero walked off toward the specialist while rubbing his hands together like he was going to crack a safe. Chapter 70 - A common example of an epic realization. Rose and Cathleen arrived at the archery range and headed toward the only person in sight. While approaching, Cathleen spoke up, ¡°Are you Sergeant Peyton?¡± The man was sitting on a wooden bench, carefully polishing an unstrung bow. Without looking up, he said, ¡°I thought there would be more of you. Is Angelton sending you over in groups?¡± Cathleen was surprised by Rose, who didn¡¯t seem as sheepish without Nero or Nick around, as she took the initiative to reply, ¡°I think he¡¯s busy kicking a bunch of the nobles'' spies out of the program. We¡¯re probably all you''re gonna get, assuming that you are Sergeant Peyton that is.¡± Chuckling, the sergeant set the bow off to the side. It joined a pile of shining bow staves. Standing up, he turned to appraise Rose and Cathleen while they judged him in turn. He was much taller than them, just over 6 feet. His eyes were so dark they seemed black. His bald head gave him a harsh visage that was probably intimidating to most people, but didn¡¯t bother either Rose or Cathleen. His skin was so tan that he might have been black, which caused Cathleen to ask, ¡°You wouldn¡¯t happen to be from the North, would you?¡± With a smile, Peyton replied, ¡°No, I¡¯m from just outside Dorchester. My mother was from Yaxley though.¡± Cathleen smiled and asked, ¡°How¡¯d she end up down here?¡± Peyton was used to every northerner demanding his mother¡¯s life story, so he wasn¡¯t offended. ¡°She came south around 200 years ago I think. She always said that the world was too big to choose to spend it in the worst place imaginable. According to her, she chose to stay around here when she realized there was nothing threatening around. For her, it was paradise,¡± he said. Cathleen slapped her hand against her thigh and started laughing. Rose looked insulted, but kept her mouth shut. ¡°Well, your ma isn¡¯t wrong. I was here for the last beast tide, and I wasn¡¯t impressed. Hopefully this one will be worth getting involved. You want us to introduce ourselves, or are you just going to read our files?¡± asked Cathleen. The sergeant said, ¡°You''re Cathleen Averett, I¡¯ve heard plenty about you already. And you must be Rose Vikander, I was briefed about you as well. You two have any questions for me before you show me what you can do?¡± Rose shook her head and went to get a bow from the pile next to the sergeant. But Cathleen asked, ¡°You going to be training with us, or just sitting on your ass and watching us work for a living?¡± With a bright smile, Peyton summoned his bow from his pocket space. ¡°I¡¯d be glad to. Before you let your northern pride make you say something you¡¯ll regret, you should know my pillar is ¡®accuracy¡¯. I wouldn¡¯t recommend offering a wager, you¡¯d lose,¡± he said, then walked off to the firing line. Rose was stringing her bow, while Cathleen was picking a stave out of the pile. Both woman were watching the sergeant as he started training. The archery range was 1000 ft deep, but there were wooden posts interspersed along the length. Each post was on a tiny cart, which allowed them to be moved around. Several arrows were already sticking out of several posts, the farthest around 960 ft. The posts in the distance were hard to see. There were small wooden fences separating the firing line from the target area. Each fence created a little firing platform, with quivers, a small table, along with a bench. The moment the sergeant approached a firing platform, little red lights erupted in lines across the field, indicating that the field was now under fire. Sergeant Peyton reached out to the quivers hanging off the fence and touched an arrow. Apparently, he didn¡¯t like the height they were at, so he adjusted the fence. It rose a few inches so he wouldn¡¯t have to bend over at all when he reached for an arrow. Nodding at his preparations, he looked out into the field. Both Rose and Cathleen had paused in their preparations to watch their trainer. Sergeant Peyton felt their judgmental eyes on his back, but it didn¡¯t bother him. If he was going to be their trainer in a skill like archery, he had better be able to shoot under pressure. Taking one more deep breath, he firmed his resolve. As though a silent starting gun went off, he started rapid firing arrows. He¡¯d draw from the quiver on the fence directly onto his bow, lift, fire, and repeat. Arrow after arrow shot downfield, one every second. He didn¡¯t look like he was hurrying, his movements were smooth and controlled. Rose was stunned, while Cathleen looked like she was proven right about something. It took around 5 seconds before the first arrow landed. When they finally started dropping, each one pounded into the same pillar. Arrow, after arrow, they peppered the post like a machine gun firing. Both of them were staring at the pillar being turned into a porcupine around 500 ft away. When the final arrow hit, the trance was broken and they turned back to look at the sergeant. As he had fired the last arrow several seconds before, he¡¯d already sat down and was examining his bow. So when Rose and Cathleen looked at him, he looked like he¡¯d been done for ages. Feeling their eyes on him, he looked up with a grin and said, ¡°You all just going to sit there? I was promised a show while I sat on my ass watching.¡± ----- Nero was excited to have an actual combat mage teaching him how to fight with magic. Perhaps he was a little too excited, as he jogged up to Specialist Howard and completely ignored the fact that the man had streams of fire and water flowing around him in patterns. Nero walked over, stopping just outside the essence flows, and said, ¡°Hello sir! I¡¯m Nero Walker, and I¡¯m here to learn how to fight with magic. How¡¯s this going to work? Is there a class syllabus I should have gotten? Are you providing the textbooks? Or, based on the fire and water motif you have going on here, is this like a channeling the elements thing? Will there be a lot of meditation involved. Please say no. But if there is, I¡¯m totally on board with it.¡± Dismissing his spell forms, Howard stared at the little boy in front of him. At that moment, he hated the general and regretted ever joining the army. As the kid kept talking, Howard got more and more upset. Before he could lash out, his other student finally approached. ¡°Please excuse Nero, he¡¯s just a big fan of blowing things up. Don¡¯t worry, despite his first impression, he¡¯s a natural mage. We were sent by Sergeant Wesker for combat casting training. I¡¯m a center-point graduate myself, so I¡¯ll probably be just observing. Although my primary branch was in Research, specifically Theoretical Essence Manipulation, I fulfilled my combat requirements with full marks. I also try to keep up to date with the current spell form updates, so if you have any questions regarding the current ¡®optimal¡¯ spell configurations, let me know,¡± Nick said with a proud smile. Howard stared at the two idiots like he couldn¡¯t believe this was happening. The little kid, Nero, was looking up at him with stars in his eyes. And the research nerd, Nick Salvatore, was trying to treat him like a colleague at a symposium. He couldn¡¯t decide who he liked least, and took comfort in the fact that they¡¯ll probably be dead in a couple of weeks. With a sigh, Howard said, ¡°I¡¯ve been ordered to teach you idiots how to combat cast. I have no idea what you think you know. What I do know is, you¡¯re wrong. Whether it¡¯s your opinion concerning spell-forms, best practices, or something you read in a book, I don¡¯t want to hear it. I¡¯m going to teach you to fight mages, beasts, monsters, and men. You will shut up, and keep shutting up while listening to everything I say. If you have a question, raise your hand. If I don¡¯t respond, it means that I don¡¯t want to hear your voice, so put your hand back down and hope my mood changes. You don¡¯t have any questions I want to hear, so follow me.¡± Enjoying the story? Show your support by reading it on the official site. Nero was still smiling, he thought Howard was perfect. But Nick looked like he had been completely gutted. Without waiting for Nick to recover, Nero jogged after Howard, leaving a confused Nick to watch the pair approach some benches along the wall. After Nick caught up, he and Nero sat where the specialist was pointing. Nero waited patiently, while Nick grumbled about disrespectful children. Hands on his hips, Howard started his lecture, ¡°Fighting with magic is both extremely simple, and extremely complicated. We¡¯re not going to cover war magic,¡± he paused as Nero¡¯s hand shot into the air. With a sigh, he said, ¡°What?¡± Nero lowered his hand and asked, ¡°What¡¯s war magic? And how is it different than regular magic? How many different types of magic are there?¡± Specialist Howard was completely confused and looked over at Nick asking, ¡°The file I was given said that you, a big-time researcher, have been teaching him magic. What the hell have you been teaching him if he doesn¡¯t know any of this?¡± This time it was Nick¡¯s turn to sigh. Nero''s eyes darted back and forth, waiting for someone to answer his question. Nick said, ¡°Look, I never really taught him anything. He went to the library and got some books. He¡¯s been figuring everything out on his own. He¡¯s only been casting magic for around a week. Arch-mage Jennings and I spent a few hours showing him how to use his center for casting, before that he was using ambient essence to create raw spell-forms. I don¡¯t understand anything he does, so please stop looking at me like that.¡± Howard crossed his arms and said, ¡°Then explain to me why he is walking around with an essence shield active. It doesn¡¯t seem to be stressing him, and that doesn¡¯t happen without extensive training.¡± Throwing his arms up in annoyance, Nick said, ¡°Just ask him. I have no idea how he does half of the things he does.¡± Nero was smiling, and chimed in, ¡°I made a deal with Jennings. A couple of days ago, he spent the afternoon showing me how to form my mage-armor along with 3 combat spells, and in return I showed him something cool. But you''re right, it was annoying keeping the shield up at first, but I got used to it after a few hours. It¡¯s just like walking around with your abs a little tight. Now can you please answer my question about the different types of magic? Also, what makes them different? Are the spell-forms unique, or are they all based on the same parts?¡± Nick was chuckling at Howard. The poor man looked like he had just seen a ghost. He stammered, ¡°You learned to cast an essence shield from an arch-mage¡­ in an afternoon.¡± Nero nodded, getting annoyed that the man wouldn¡¯t answer his questions. ¡°Yes. And 3 combat spells. Now will you please just answer the question. Or at least point me toward a book that covers the subject. It¡¯s a good thing you are all able to live to a thousand, because you take forever to DO anything. Teach me something, dammit!¡± Nero shouted. Startled, Howard held up his hands in defeat. ¡°Alright kid, calm down. Magic is categorized by its purpose. The underlying architecture of spells is all the same. But there are many ways to do the same thing. Spell creation is a difficult area of study. I said we weren¡¯t covering war magic, because those are large spells that you couldn¡¯t cast anyway,¡± he said, then tilted his head in consideration, ¡°I should say that they¡¯re spells you ¡®probably¡¯ can¡¯t cast yet. But we should start at the beginning. Have you read any ¡®introduction to magic¡¯ books?¡± Nero responded proudly, ¡°I¡¯ve read an ¡®introduction to essence¡¯ and a basic spell book on household spells. Three days ago I read some books with some spell-forms useful for hunting, and personal magic. I don¡¯t feel comfortable creating a dimensional space in my soul just yet. But I was planning on giving it another look tonight.¡± Frowning, Howard asked, ¡°What does an introduction to essence have to do with casting magic?¡± Nero replied easily, ¡°Essence is magic, isn¡¯t it? I¡¯m pretty sure it was listed as a book for the class which was a per-requisite for the Center¡¯s combat magic class. That¡¯s why I started there.¡± Shaking his head, Howard said, ¡°NO! Well, yes. But no. Magic is the use of essence to perform a task. Essence is just the building blocks you manipulate with magic. You¡¯re not supposed to use essence to cast! That¡¯s crazy.¡± Nick nudged Nero with his elbow, and chimed in, ¡°I told you that you were doing it wrong.¡± Nero shrugged, and said, ¡°Whatever. That doesn¡¯t matter anymore. I know how to create a spell-form with my center now. It¡¯s way easier. Now one of the books I was reading said that I had to ¡®control the essence¡¯ and ¡®deny my opponent¡¯, what does that actually mean?¡± Howard felt his hackles rise, and said, ¡°Nope. You¡¯re not going to be bouncing around anymore. Learning bits and pieces is stupid. Just listen for a while. Nick, you stand up and go over there. Nero needs to see actual casting being done correctly.¡± Nick¡¯s proud smile was back, and he hopped up to take his place opposite Howard. Nero fought the urge to mutter an insult, but kept the thought that Nick was the very definition of a ¡®teacher¡¯s pet¡¯ to himself. After taking their places, about 20 ft apart, Howard shouted, ¡°Shields up!¡± Receiving a raised right arm from Nick, Howard looked over at Nero and asked, ¡°Can you feel the areas of control for both of us?¡± Nero stood up, and concentrated. He moved until he took his place between them, but off to the side. They ended up forming a triangle. Nero looked over at Howard and said, ¡°OK, I can see you both clearly.¡± Howard raised his eyebrows and asked, ¡°When you say ¡®see¡¯, you mean ¡®feel¡¯ right? It sounds like you are saying you can see the essence flows around us.¡± Nero crossed his arms and said, ¡°Yeah, I can see them fine. I know how to use a psychic field, I¡¯m not an idiot.¡± Nick chimed in, ¡°Wait a second, you can recognize essence streams? What are your ¡®soul-density¡¯ and ¡®mind-focus¡¯ stats at? They must be over 50!¡± Howard shouted in anger, ¡°Don¡¯t answer that! You ever ask a question like that in my presence again, and I¡¯ll put you down so hard you¡¯ll beg to never see me again. You hear me?¡± Nick paled, and Nero jumped in, ¡°It¡¯s OK. Don¡¯t worry, he¡¯s my advisor. He just got excited about something. He doesn¡¯t always think before he speaks. My situation is a little weird, and he¡¯s been helping me try to figure stuff out. He didn¡¯t mean anything by it.¡± Even from a distance, Nero was positive that he heard Nick gulp in fear. Specialist Howard seemed to calm down, but he still repeated his warning, ¡°I¡¯d never step in between an advisor and his charge. But if he asks questions like that again, you come tell me right away. No one is entitled to your identity.¡± Nodding, Nero said, ¡°Got it. Now show me what you wanted me to see. I¡¯m watching closely.¡± Specialist Howard wove a basic spell-form Nero had never seen before. He did it slowly, so Nero could follow along. Nero watched as the parts came together to channel air essence, along with something that he didn¡¯t recognize. He felt the air condense, and ionize inside the spell-form. With a ¡®crack¡¯, a bolt of lightning shot from between Howard¡¯s hands toward Nick. It was so fast that Nero didn¡¯t have a chance to shout a warning. For a split second, Nero panicked. But Nero shouldn''t have worried, as the lightning faded into nothingness the moment it entered Nick¡¯s field of control. It hadn''t gotten within 5 feet of him. Utterly confused, Nero muttered, ¡°That¡¯s not how electricity works.¡± Howard looked over at Nero and said, ¡°That¡¯s what happens when uncontrolled essence structures interact with a foreign psychic field. That¡¯s the primary concern for combat casting: How to get your spells through an enemy¡¯s defenses. Whether it¡¯s a shield, essence field, or an essence shield, a mage has to keep control of the essence he casts. Understand?¡± Nero said simply, ¡°Nope. That doesn¡¯t make sense at all. You didn¡¯t shoot essence at him. You converted essence into lightning, and shot that at him. Are you telling me that his psychic field can protect him from environmental effects? I have personally seen people killed by spells causing environmental effects, so I¡¯m completely confused.¡± Nick laughed and said, ¡°I tried explaining it to you, but you wouldn¡¯t listen. Show him your spells that you''re so proud of.¡± Nero bristled and said, ¡°Fine.¡± Walking over to the targeting range, he felt Nick and Howard following. When he was about 15 feet away, he firmed his shield, and cast one of his patented ¡®essence-bombs¡¯ next to a dummy. When it blew up, the dummy broke apart and shrapnel shot everywhere. His shield took some hits, but didn¡¯t fail. Then Nero turned to another dummy and stamped a laser into existence. It burned a hole right through another dummy. Turning around, he placed his hands on his hips and said, ¡°There. Environmental effects in action. Two dead enemies.¡± Nick just shook his head with a grin on his face. Howard looked at Nero like he was an idiot, and asked, ¡°How the hell are you not dead yet?¡± Nero stared back, confused. ¡°Huh?¡± he asked while Nick burst into laughter. Chapter 71 - Major life decision that means nothing. Heather walked into the common room from the hallway with a smile on her face. It was so out of character, both Jerry and Mike looked at her like they didn¡¯t recognize her. ¡°We¡¯ve got the score of a lifetime coming to us,¡± she said and took a seat on one of the couches. Throwing her feet up on the coffee table, she pulled out a flask and started drinking. Mike set down the sword he was polishing and said, ¡°Well? Details please. You said you heard there was a wilds contract we might be interested in. Some noble that needs to be lost while making it look legit. What did you find out?¡± Jerry closed the book he was reading and leaned forward. ¡°Alright, so here¡¯s what I know,¡± she said and set her feet down leaning forward with excitement. ¡°The target joined an elite hunter training program,¡± she said. Hearing that, Jerry reopened his book, and Mike just snorted and picked his sword back up. Holding out her hands like she was trying to calm down a horse, she said, ¡°Listen to the rest of it. The training program is legit, but the noble isn¡¯t. In fact, the noble is only level 8 or something. He¡¯s a really fast leveler, so he¡¯s only 14. He¡¯s a commoner who got lucky during the noble war we just had. You can see his arena fight on the link. He thinks he¡¯s a mage,¡± she laughed as she saw Mike and Jerry start paying attention again. She said, ¡°It gets better. I heard that the only reason he¡¯s in the training program is because he realized he has no idea how to fight. Lord Cosgrave agreed to let him attend, but demanded that he adhere to the training program if he wants to learn how to fight. My friend knows one of the guards at the training facility, and he found out the best part.¡± Mike and Jerry were leaning forward again, they were hanging on Heather¡¯s every word. After taking a sip from her flask, she said, ¡°The kid¡¯s only got 2 minders. One of them is his bodyguard. Get this, she¡¯s a den-mother from the Center dorm he was staying at. The other is his advisor. The guy is some second son of a noble, trying to start his own house. My friend said the guy works in Research or something.¡± She started laughing again. Both Mike and Jerry shared a look along with some smiles. Trying to stop her laughter, she said, ¡°I¡¯m sorry. It¡¯s just too much. If all of that isn¡¯t enough, listen to what I just heard. A bunch of the nobles were worried about the kid out in the wilds with just some soldiers who wouldn¡¯t give a shit about him, so they placed a bunch of guards into his training program. The kid thought they were all spies, and he demanded that they be replaced with real soldiers. He actually ASKED to be left alone. The schedule has them out in the wilds after only a week of training. In ten days, they¡¯ll be outside the walls.¡± Mike and Jerry were stunned. Mike tried to wrangle his enthusiasm, this was too good to be true. ¡°How sure are you about this? This seems way too easy for the payout?¡± Heather¡¯s face turned serious, and she said, ¡°We¡¯re getting a million common valens to make sure that little shit doesn¡¯t return from the wilds. If you don¡¯t want in, I¡¯ll do it myself. This is too good to pass up. People are only nervous because he¡¯s a new noble. But out in the wilds, he¡¯s only a 14 year old kid with his Center appointed guardians. Put on your big-boy pants and let¡¯s get this done.¡± Jerry said, ¡°I¡¯m in. Even if Mike passes, this is too good to pass up. As long as we get their route through the wilds, a few illusions is all it will take.¡± Mike nodded, and made a decision. ¡°All right, let¡¯s take two days to get our gear together. Then I want to be in the wilds waiting for them. Thanks for this, Heather. We owe you one.¡± Heather¡¯s smile was wide and happy as she said, ¡°Feel free to increase my share.¡± ----- Nero trudged toward the dining hall alone. Nick had been nice enough to give him some space. The reprieve from the old man¡¯s jokes was more than welcome. Nero wasn¡¯t in the mood to hear any more jabs at his misplaced pride. Since there weren¡¯t any other recruits anymore, Nero didn¡¯t have to wait in line. After getting his meal, he saw that the only people at the tables were Rose and Cathleen. Nero walked over and listened to their conversation. Part of him was happy that they were getting along, a very small part. Taking his seat, Nero poured himself some water from one of the table¡¯s pitchers. Cathleen looked at Nero and asked, ¡°What¡¯s wrong with you? Had some trouble at the combat-casting class?¡± Nero shot her a dirty look, and said, ¡°It seems I was misunderstanding some things. I wasn¡¯t aware that the only reason I¡¯m still alive is because of two separate technicalities. I¡¯ve had two wins, and both of them deserve an asterisk.¡± Nero stabbed his steak with his fork like he was making sure it was dead. Rose chuckled, but didn¡¯t say anything. However, Cathleen pressed on the wound and asked, ¡°What does that mean? What happened specifically.¡± Nero chewed on his steak and sighed. Swallowing, he took a drink of water, and said, ¡°When I fought those mercenaries, I thought I made a bomb out of essence. It turns out that I did, but the bomb didn¡¯t really kill them. It just forced a shock-wave into the air. It was the air that killed them. Then with the assassin, the only reason my laser idea worked, was because he was so low-leveled. Anyone over level 15 wouldn¡¯t even notice the spell I cast. So anyone with a decent leveling speed could be immune to that spell by the age of 20.¡± Support the author by searching for the original publication of this novel. Rose spoke up, ¡°Hey! I¡¯m 18 and only level 9. And my leveling speed is just fine.¡± Realizing that she just shouted at Nero, she paled. Her reaction was just what Nero needed. Cracking a smile, Nero couldn¡¯t contain it. He burst into laughter. Rose didn¡¯t understand, and thought she was in some serious trouble. Her eyes started looking for exits. Nero forced himself to stop laughing and said, ¡°It¡¯s fine. Don¡¯t worry about it. Like Nick said, speak your mind. I¡¯m not some stuck up noble with his privilege surgically implanted up his ass. And I¡¯m sorry, you¡¯re absolutely right. I don¡¯t understand the leveling system at all. So just ignore me.¡± Cathleen was eating with a smile on her face, enjoying the happy dynamic. Nick appeared, and took his seat. ¡°Hey everyone. How was archery training? If your trainer was anything like ours, I bet you were just as impressed as we were. You know they got an actual war-mage to train us? I think there are only like 10 in Dorchester at the moment. Hopefully we get our full compliment before the beast wave hits. They could be the difference between holding the walls or abandoning the city,¡± he said while slicing up his steak and mashed potatoes. Nero said, ¡°On that cheery note, let¡¯s hear about archery.¡± Rose¡¯s mood was restored, and her smile brightened the dining hall. She said, ¡°Our instructor, Sergeant Peyton, is an actual hunter. He¡¯s fought in the wilds for like 20 years or something. You wouldn¡¯t believe what he can do with an arrow. He emptied an entire quiver into a target 1000 ft away like it was no problem at all. His pillar is ¡®accuracy¡¯, so I guess it makes sense. But his speed was amazing! And he really pushed us too. We had a medic come over to heal our hands. I don¡¯t know how many arrows I shot, but it was more than I could count. By the end of training, I was done. But don¡¯t you worry, I¡¯ll be back for more tomorrow!¡± Her bubbly personality made everyone at the table smile. Nero thought back to her face in the conference room at the arena, and remembered her stern expression. Comparing it to what he was seeing now, and also that submissive school-girl routine she had done to Nick, Nero wondered what she was like under all the acting. Putting the issue aside for the moment, Nero focused on something more important. As he was probably going to level tonight, he¡¯d need his questions about pillars answered now. Speaking up, Nero said, ¡°You mentioned pillars. I have a few questions about those. I read that you are offered a choice at level ten, and then at level fifty, right?¡± Everyone nodded as they ate. Nick pointed his fork across the table at Nero and said, ¡°You¡¯re going to be hitting level 10 soon, huh? I guess you have some questions. This is a big moment for you, and you haven¡¯t had a lot of time to study the subject.¡± Nero offered a blank look at Nick and said, ¡°You¡¯re right. So maybe as my advisor you can stop restating the problem, and start addressing it. What the hell am I going to have to deal with?¡± Rose and Cathleen chuckled. Nick just chewed on his steak and started talking while his mouth was full. ¡°When you level to 10, your mind will be pulled into your soul. You¡¯ll be presented with some options based on how you¡¯ve lived your life. If you focused on paperwork, you¡¯ll get some options having to do with writing, or information, or something along those lines. Don¡¯t worry, you¡¯ll get around 10 options. Some people get more, some people get less. Either way, the pillar itself just represents an aspect of yourself that you are choosing to build your growth around,¡± he said then paused to take a drink of water. Cathleen picked up the slack, and said, ¡°My favorite analogy is that you are like a vine growing up around your pillar. As time goes on, you grow higher, but never stray from your pillar. As you grow to level 50, another pillar is added, and your foundation is strengthened. If you ever reach level 100, your pillars will form a pyramid with you standing at the top, taking your place among the heavens. The image of a pyramid covered in fresh growth with me at the top, staring at the sky, always appealed to me.¡± Nero smiled, he liked that too. He forced himself back into the conversation, as he didn¡¯t want to be distracted. ¡°So pillars are kind of limiting then?¡± he asked. Nick shook his head. ¡°Not really. They are essentially concepts. They can be applied in many ways. For example, the pillar I took at level 10 was ¡®insight¡¯. That could have sent me down many different paths. But I used my stars to increase my ability to parse data. My memory has been drastically increased, and I have an ability you¡¯ve seen. Remember when I made the map of Dorchester. I was taking data that I had saved in my link and used my ability to create a model which I projected as a hologram using magic. Neat huh?¡± Nero nodded in thought. Before he could ask another questions, Rose asked, ¡°So your pillar doesn¡¯t really have a lot of abilities? It¡¯s mostly focused on supplementing your mind?¡± Cathleen chimed in, ¡°No pillar has more abilities than another. You just have to choose to put a star toward creating one. Then more stars to grow it into something useful. Some pillars are easier to apply to abilities, but no pillar is without the option for them. Think of Sergeant Peyton, instead of focusing on his archery, he could have focused his ¡®accuracy¡¯ pillar on spell work. Or he could have been a very ¡®accurate¡¯ map-maker.¡± She then chuckled at her own pun as Nero winced. Nero said, ¡°OK, so pillars are super important. But it¡¯s more about how you see them that matters. You could get a ¡®space¡¯ pillar and only be good at organizing closets if you spend your stars in order to excel at organization.¡± Everyone laughed, and Nick said, ¡°You got it. Just choose what appeals to you. It¡¯s an important decision, but it¡¯s only one step on your path.¡± The conversation continued until Captain Angelton appeared in the dining hall. His presence was immediately noticed, and their little group watched him approach. The captain looked around, and seemed unhappy at all the empty seats. Standing at the head of their table, he said, ¡°Alright, so let me give you some updates. As you suspected, every recruit had an ulterior motive for joining this program. As per my orders, I offered them two choices. Either be transferred to another elite training program, or quit and go back to whatever house ordered them to come here. I was surprised that 9 of them actually went back to their houses. Only 7 people had the strength of character to follow through with their training.¡± Looking over at Nero he continued, ¡°The general was not happy about the way it worked out, but he told me to tell you, ¡®At least their cowardice gives me ammunition against the pansies in the mansions¡¯. Personally, I want to thank you. I was never comfortable with the situation. I¡¯m looking forward to getting some real warriors around here. They¡¯ll be here in the morning, it shouldn¡¯t affect your training schedule.¡± In a cold voice Cathleen asked, ¡°Real warriors, huh? I¡¯m looking forward to seeing what you consider a ¡®warrior¡¯.¡± To his credit, the captain realized his mistake instantly. Instead of apologizing, he just said, ¡°Please try not to be too hard on them. I don¡¯t want to keep bringing in new people. Losing 16 recruits on the first day of training is bad enough, even if there is an explanation in the file. It still looks bad.¡± Chuckling, Nero asked, ¡°So what happens after dinner? I¡¯m ready to get back to it. It¡¯s only 19:30, plenty of time for some more pain.¡± Missing the joke, the captain said, ¡°You¡¯ve got one hour of light running, followed by two hours of physical training. Then typically, you have free time. Training fields will be available for you to choose where you spend your free time. However, I received a personal message from Arch-mage Jennings about you. He told me that you would probably be studying, and he advised me not to interfere with your plans. That was advice I plan to follow. But in the meantime, clean up and meet me outside, we¡¯ve got work to do.¡± Nero¡¯s group nodded and stood up in unison. After dropping off their dishes, they filed out to enjoy a light after-dinner run. For the next hour, Nero felt a slap on the back of his head every time Cathleen passed him. Unfortunately, it didn¡¯t help him run any faster. Chapter 72 - Know thyself... or whatever. Rose felt like she was walking a tightrope. It was imperative that she make a good impression, but she didn¡¯t know how to act. At first she thought that playing the innocent school girl would be enough to diffuse any suspicion, but that had backfired. For some reason, both men thought that her attitude was indicative of some kind of past trauma. She had no idea how they came to that conclusion. The halls at their barracks were practically emptied by the expulsion of the noble spies. As she was walking to the showers in her towel and flip-flops, she realized that she was the only spy left. Somehow, she had managed to stay in position, even after Lord Walker had found out her purpose. With a furrowed brow, she tried to figure out the little lord¡¯s game. Did he really think he had converted her to his side? Or was he keeping her around in order to feed false information to the general? The older lord, Nick Salvatore-Verena, was easy to figure out. Fighting him was very informative. The man was only here so he could watch over Lord Walker, and complete his trials. He was easily deceived, and lacked the motivation to excel in the game. Steering his attention wasn¡¯t going to be an issue. Even the bodyguard didn¡¯t appear to be a problem. Cathleen Averett was a simple warrior. She may think she is clever, and in a way, she is. However, her area of expertise is combat. Deception and intrigue are outside of her understanding. Rose knew that as long as she trained hard, Cathleen wouldn¡¯t be a problem. Reaching the communal bathroom, Rose schooled her features. Putting on a vapid smile, she opened the doors and went inside. After hanging her towel on a peg, she walked into the steamy shower. Cathleen and Nick were already there. Both of them were talking about how their training was going while sharing a shower pillar. Each pillar had four shower-heads, and Rose walked over to join them. ¡°Are you two as tired as I am?¡± Rose asked, trying to foster some companionship. Nick was collecting some shampoo from a dispenser on the pillar. Turning his head to Rose he said, ¡°I don¡¯t think I¡¯ve ever been this tired. It¡¯s hard to believe that this is a standard elite training schedule. Did you know that they train like this year round? The only time they¡¯re not training is when they are out in the field.¡± With a huff of derision, Cathleen said, ¡°It wasn¡¯t that bad. You¡¯ll get used to it. Just focus on your training. Every drop of blood you shed while training is an increase in your life expectancy. The wilds are not for the weak.¡± Cathleen had undone her combat braid, and was massaging shampoo into her scalp. Rose couldn¡¯t help but admire her form. The woman was solid muscle, it was like she was carved from black marble. Lithe like a panther, even at rest she looked ready for combat. Nick blew a raspberry at her, then said, ¡°You¡¯re enjoying this too much. We¡¯re only here to help out Nero. There is no reason to worry, we¡¯ll have an entire squad of elites with us when we face the wilds. We¡¯ll be perfectly safe.¡± Rose stood under the hot water, rubbing down her sore muscles with the liquid soap from the pillar. She had thought Nick was soft, but looking at him naked proved it. His skinny limbs contrasted with his slight pouch of a belly. Rose said, ¡°I think this is an opportunity for us all to get better. Like Lord Walker said, we need to remember why we are here. The danger in the wilds will only grow with time, and what we are doing is important.¡± Nick scoffed and said, ¡°There are going to be 100,000 troops clearing the wilds. Not to mention all the hunters and aspiring adventurers. I¡¯m not saying what we are doing is pointless, but Dorchester¡¯s future doesn¡¯t exactly rely on our success or failure.¡± Just then, they heard a squeak from the entryway. Everyone turned to see a red faced Nero looking like he was frozen in terror. Rose couldn¡¯t help but chuckle. Quickly coughing into her hand to cover her slip-up, she returned to her shower. She could feel Nero walking over to the fourth shower head. When he finally joined them at the pillar, Rose got a chance to see the little man without his clothes. As she thought, he was wiry and taut like a spring. His frame didn¡¯t have a lot of power, but it did have resilience. She remembered the beating he gave her well. Rose said, ¡°We were just discussing the intensity of the training. Lord Salvatore-Verena doesn¡¯t seem to think it¡¯s necessary to push ourselves this hard.¡± Probing for information was what she had been brought here for, and she wouldn¡¯t forget it. Even if these two nobles thought they had scared her off. Nero was staring forward at the pillar. He was obviously uncomfortable, and Rose couldn¡¯t help but find that adorable. The contrast between how dangerous he looked on the training field, and how weak he looked right now was startling. While in combat he was a little man, but here he was a little boy. He might be the most dangerous freshly awakened young man in the city, but he could be defeated by a public shower. General Branson will want to hear about this. ----- Nero couldn¡¯t get the images of Cathleen and Rose out of his head. His communal shower experience was just as bad as he thought it would be. Nero was both enticed and disgusted in equal measure. While Rose looked like a thick-thighed Instagram model, and Cathleen looked like a professional fitness competitor, Nero found Nick¡¯s dad-bod was more than enough to counteract any physical reaction. ¡®OK. Along with silverware, staples, and paperwork¡­ teenage hormones are multi-dimensional,¡¯ Nero thought to himself with a grimace. After finally retreating to his room, Nero closed the door and sighed in relief. He wouldn¡¯t have to deal with that again until tomorrow. Nero knew that he had to push all his teenage confusion to the back of his head, and focus on getting his first pillar. It was time to make the push to level 10. Turning off the lights in his room, Nero tossed his wet towel over his chair so it could dry. Hopping onto his bed, Nero sat cross-legged and tried to imitate the yoga nerds from the internet. Leveling required reflection, and Nero planned to go all-in. While taking deep breaths, he opened his identity along with his stats.
Name Nero Walker Level 9
Race Human Growth 100%
Tier 1 Condition 92%
Age 14 Center 49%
Body 2 Mind 4
Soul 2 Confluence 10
Stars 0 Pillars 0/0
Body 2
Base Operative Level Stress
Presence 11 15.4 1.2
Durability 8 11.2 8.6
Recovery 21 29.4 12.3
Speed 13 18.2 6.1
Adaptability 32 44.8 A case of theft: this story is not rightfully on Amazon; if you spot it, report the violation. 9.1
Power 8 11.2 12.4
Mind 4
Base Operative Level Stress
Weight 26 46.8 4.2
Control 29 52.2 8.3
Field 23 41.4 11.3
Precision 39 70.2 14.6
Endurance 46 82.8 13.2
Focus 48 86.4 9.1
Soul 2
Base Operative Level Stress
Size 29 40.6 0.3
Density 101 141.4 0.3
Intensity 76 106.4 0.2
Pressure 27 37.8 0.2
Harmony 24 33.6 4.6
Adaptability 270 378 0.1
Nero knew that he was ready to level, his soul felt like it was bursting. Turning his senses inward, he could almost see the experience floating away. Wasted growth was evaporating into the atmosphere every second he delayed. While taking calm, deep breaths, Nero thought back to when he had last leveled. He had waited too long to address this. In the future, he¡¯d have to start paying closer attention. Maybe he could be a little more reflective throughout the day. He¡¯d leveled without meditating before, there was no reason he couldn¡¯t do it again. Forcing his thoughts back on track, Nero went through his experiences and the lessons he¡¯d learned. He imagined that each was a stone on a path that spread out before him. Mentally moving forward, he felt them etch their memory into his soul. ¡®Meditation is so much easier now that I¡¯m a psychic,¡¯ he thought. Ignoring the stray thought, he concentrated on the path in front of him. The essence in his room pushed on his essence shield, and Nero released it with a sigh. All of the surrounding essence shook and his center gave the world a metaphorical hug. Instead of coming out of his meditation, Nero felt stuck. Deciding to call his imagined path his mindscape, Nero took a moment to look around. He felt as though he were inside his soul, with images of his life floating around in a fog surrounding him. The stone path under his feet felt more real the longer he stood there. Right in front of his eyes, he saw many paths forward fade into existence. Nero realized this must be how he would choose his pillar. Rather than choosing a path, it felt like more like he needed to confirm his destination. Where was he going, and why? There weren¡¯t sign-posts, but Nero knew what each path meant. He could feel it. Starting from the left, Nero could choose the pillar of ¡®air¡¯. When he looked at the path in front of him he felt wind and storms. There were hints of pressure, temperature, and lightning. But there were also hints of flight, dodging, speed, and even cutting. Nero felt awed at the complexity. Thinking back to what Nick had said about pillars, Nero realized that he didn¡¯t really grasp that ¡®concepts¡¯ covered a lot of ground. Pulling his attention away from the ¡®air¡¯ pillar¡¯s path, he examined each one in turn. There was Fire, Water, Earth, Ice, Evasion, Avoidance, Insight, Defense, Equivalence, Adaptation, Observation, Recovery, Deception, and Intuition. Each path felt like it lead to infinite possibilities, colored by the concepts they represented. Some had more direct applications, like the elemental pillars, while others were more esoteric, like equivalence and adaptation. The paths were so broad, Nero was having trouble deciding what to do. For example, with the ¡®ice¡¯ pillar, he could follow the path and eventually ¡®freeze¡¯ anything. Nero could make shields brittle, or hold people in place. The path led to endless applications. If Nero took the ¡®ice¡¯ pillar, one day he could use it to stop people teleporting by freezing the space around them. With interest, Nero examined the path that followed the ¡®equivalence¡¯ pillar. It was all about converting things. He saw that all matter was essence, and all essence was energy, and all energy eventually met at a singularity. If Nero followed that path, he would one day be able to reshape reality at will. The possibility was intoxicating, and Nero started to feel light-headed. But Nero couldn¡¯t stop thinking about the path that followed the ¡®adaptation¡¯ pillar. The concept was so vague, the options so varied, Nero couldn¡¯t dismiss the feeling that it was perfect for him. He realized that his leveling was so fast because he was adaptable. His soul had traveled the upper realms and carried his mind along for the ride. The experience had made him¡­ malleable. This new world was completely foreign to him. Everyone was odd, and the rules seemed to always be changing. While the mental comparisons to his old world were becoming more infrequent, Nero felt that he was still making assumptions. He knew he was never going to fully embrace the changes, but he could at least look at them with fresh eyes. Nero would be his own man, make his own way. Someone important once said, ¡®Adapt and Overcome¡¯. It was good advice that Nero would take. It wasn¡¯t really a choice, Nero stepped onto the path associated with the ¡®adaptation¡¯ pillar and felt like he was accepting an aspect of himself. Nero felt like he was back in college, when he finally realized that he wasn¡¯t as cool as he thought he was. The feeling of accepting an aspect of his identity was like affirming a pillar of his existence. With that realization, Nero instantly became annoyed. The ¡®literal¡¯ pillar was now in place, and Nero felt like the target of a cosmic joke. He could almost hear the world around him giggling while saying, ¡°It¡¯s a ¡®pillar¡¯¡­ get it? YOUR pillar¡­ lol¡± After mentally cursing out the ¡®hippy-reality¡¯ he had found himself in, Nero opened his eyes and checked his identity.
Name Nero Walker Level 10
Race Human Growth 13%
Tier 1 Condition 100%
Age 14 Center 57%
Body 2 Mind 4
Soul 2 Confluence 10
Stars 0 Pillars 1 / 1
Absently noting his 13% growth, Nero noticed that his star was already spent. Confused, he took a closer look at his new ¡®Pillars¡¯ panel:
Pillars
Adaptation
Stars Assigned: 1
Increased ability to handle level stress * 1
Surprised that he had somehow made a choice about where to assign his star, Nero tried to examine the ability he gained. Increased ability to handle level stress ¨C You¡¯ve always been more adaptable to change than those around you. Your body, mind, and soul benefit from the stress the world puts them under. You now can adapt to that stress better than before. You will adapt, and overcome the challenges on your path. While he didn¡¯t completely understand what the ability was, Nero didn¡¯t feel cheated. The ability to adapt to circumstances was an essential part of life. He didn¡¯t know what was coming, but being able to handle it would require him to ¡®adapt and overcome¡¯. Opening his eyes, Nero felt at peace. This time, he didn¡¯t feel any negative repercussions from his level-up. If that¡¯s all the pillar ever did for him, Nero would count it as a solid investment. After all, magic could do everything he needed. Sitting cross-legged, naked on his bed, Nero smiled as he told himself, ¡°Abilities are for chumps. Magic is where it¡¯s at.¡± Chapter 73 - Weird, but appropriate. Now that Vera was no longer running Gate 7¡¯s Center-Intake, she would be spending most of her time working from home. She had already been spending at least 3 nights a week using her home office to operate her shipping concern, ¡®Precision Shipping¡¯, so the office was already well suited for her new duties. Her local hub was top-of-the-line, and she had spared no expense appointing the room with tasteful furniture. There were floor to ceiling windows which opened up onto a veranda overlooking her courtyard. She even had potted plants to keep the room feeling lively, while she had placed track lighting ringing the recessed ceiling in order to preserve the feeling of professionalism. Multiple displays were open on her desk, alongside several folders filled with expense reports and project updates. Like a machine, Vera systematically addressed every issue with utmost efficiency. Now that she had time, she was personally making sure the absorption of ¡®Dorchen Shipping¡¯ proceeded without any issues. She had already blocked several plots from other noble houses trying to shift contracts, falsify records, and generally cause problems. As the screens flashed, her pen slashed across the pages, and she smiled. As much as she had liked her job at the Center, this was her guilty pleasure. Plots against her interests were foiled, and then turned against the aggressor. Machinations with many levels, across fiscal and political arenas. Recent events had resulted in her having to face them all at once, and she had achieved victories that made her blood boil with excitement. Receiving a ping from Nick, she paused her work and opened a connection. ¡°Hello dear. How was your first day of training?¡± she asked. Feeling his annoyance, she smirked and took a sip of her wine. Nick replied, ¡°It was fine Vera. You were right about how General Branson responded to Nero¡¯s outing of the spies. From what I can tell, a new batch of actual elite recruits will be here tomorrow. The girl, Rose, is still here though. What did you find out about her?¡± Vera changed one of the screens to display the file she had created for General Branson¡¯s spy. ¡°Her name is Rose Vikander. 18 years old. Trained since awakening under Ulric Linderman, a hunter/assassin who was near her town on contract when she awakened. All accounts show that she was trained primarily as a hunter, and her assassination training hadn¡¯t started. Unclear if that was a long-term priority, or if she was only there to learn hunting. She is the 7th child of the town blacksmith and a local hunter. Neither parent is anything special. It appears she fled the town for a city at the first opportunity. Linderman was most likely just a means to an end,¡± she said while reading the report from the screen. Vera felt Nick¡¯s interest as he asked, ¡°Have you found out anything about her personality or capabilities? I¡¯m having trouble getting a read on her. At first I thought she was a simple village girl, but Nero seemed to see right through that. Now she¡¯s trying to come off as an air-head, but I¡¯m not buying it.¡± Vera sighed and said, ¡°I was able to get hold of her records from the Hall of Hunting, but they weren¡¯t very extensive. All I can tell you is that she is primarily a long range fighter who excels in ambushes. She isn¡¯t level 10 yet, so no pillar. For her personality, all we have to go on is what we¡¯ve seen for ourselves. I¡¯d say she is highly adaptable, and motivated solely by self-interest. She didn¡¯t hesitate to cut ties with her mentor and move on to new opportunities when they were presented. She¡¯s also intuitive, Lord Bennings said that the girl took one look at Nero and decided she didn¡¯t want anything to do with the plot against him. It seems her intuition was the reason General Branson took note of her. In short, I¡¯d recommend caution when dealing with her. Her threat isn¡¯t physical, it¡¯s psychological. You¡¯ll have to limit her information gathering capabilities, I doubt she¡¯s forgotten her mission.¡± Nick replied, ¡°I¡¯m pretty sure Nero converted her to our side, but I¡¯ll follow your advice. This isn¡¯t really my area.¡± Vera nodded in agreement, then asked, ¡°Speaking of deceptive individuals with a highly developed intuition, did you find out what pillar Nero gained?¡± Nick chuckled and responded, ¡°Not yet. He¡¯s leveling as we speak. Cathleen thinks he¡¯ll gain some type of recovery ability, but I¡¯m guessing something along the lines of an ¡®observation¡¯ pillar. But you¡¯re probably right. ¡®Deception¡¯ or ¡®Intuition¡¯ would fit Nero like a glove.¡± Taking a sip of her wine, she said, ¡°You¡¯ll be unable to keep his pillar secret, so don¡¯t bother trying. Don¡¯t make your moves in the open, you -¡± Nick interrupted her with annoyed tone. ¡°Yes, I know. Move in the shadows, and don¡¯t appear until I¡¯m ready to strike. I know dear,¡± he said. Smiling, she said, ¡°I¡¯m sure you¡¯ll do fine. One spy isn¡¯t a concern. Just consider it training for Nero. Now you should get some meditation in, this change of pace will be good for you. Don¡¯t waste this opportunity Nick, you¡¯ll regret it if you do.¡± Vera felt her husband¡¯s acceptance of her words. He said, ¡°I won¡¯t. Don¡¯t worry. I¡¯ll keep you updated on what¡¯s happening. Expect a ping around this time tomorrow.¡± ¡°I¡¯ll be available. Talk to you then my love,¡± she said and then closed the connection. Sipping her wine, she looked at the file on Rose that was still up on her desk. With a thoughtful look on her face, she debated what, if anything, she should do about the girl. Deciding that it was still too early in the game to make a move, she closed the file and returned to work. This novel is published on a different platform. Support the original author by finding the official source. She had less than a week before Nick and Nero were out in the wilds, and she wanted to get their trading posts up and running before they got back. As the screens on her desk started flashing, she smiled. She was really enjoying her new job. ----- Waking up to morning reveille, Nero threw on a fresh pair of training clothes and dragged himself onto the field. Cathleen and Rose looked wide awake, but Nero took solace in the fact that Nick looked exactly how Nero felt: tired. Captain Angelton must have sent the other trainers away, because he was personally running their morning training. There were only 4 recruits remaining: Nick, Nero, Rose, and Cathleen. Nero wasn¡¯t able to hide his shortcomings in a crowd any longer. During the run, Nero was lapped by everyone multiple times. After which, he still couldn¡¯t perform the physical training at all. While everyone else was contorting their bodies, and performing feats of gymnastics on the adult sized jungle gym, Nero was falling on his face with alarming regularity. Yet, he persisted. Captain Angelton spent the morning offering compliments and encouragement to Rose, Cathleen, and even Nick. He praised their successes, and encouraged them to push their limits. But all Nero heard was, ¡°Way to keep trying. You¡¯ll get it eventually. Don¡¯t give up.¡± Rather than get angry, Nero just kept plodding along. His inexhaustible well of stamina was still working, and Nero didn¡¯t hesitate to keep trying. He knew that it would take time and effort. Occasionally, he¡¯d check his stat panel and watch the stress pile up. It was growing slower than the day before, but it was still growing. Once again, his smile was eternal in the face of the physical torture he was enduring. Eventually the morning training ended, and the captain sent them off to breakfast. As the group of four were heading off to the dining hall, they saw the new recruits being organized across the field. Nick said, ¡°Looks like the replacements are here. You think the general just pulled them from the monster-hunting teams?¡± As they walked, Cathleen was the one to respond, ¡°Probably. Some of them might have been on the road teams, but I doubt it. He¡¯ll have wanted the best of the best to make up for his previous gaff.¡± While Nick and Rose nodded, Nero just looked over at the group and wondered if it really mattered. Taking his past into account, Nero doubted he would be able to tell the difference between someone¡¯s skill level. They could have been from maintenance and would still probably be able to kick his ass. Small talk ensued while they collected their food and took their seats at their table. Nero stayed rather quiet, as he was busy day-dreaming about the future. He imagined being a physical powerhouse that could throw around magic as if he were Superman crossed with the God-Emperor from Warhammer. Nick seemed to not be able to hold back his questions any longer, and made Nero jump when he nearly shouted, ¡°Nero! Seriously, just tell us what pillar you took. I can¡¯t keep talking around the subject. You did level, right?¡± Nero looked up from his meal to see everyone staring at him intensely. Sighing, he said, ¡°I took the ¡®adaptation¡¯ pillar. Hey, do you guys go into a kind of mental world when you meditate? It started happening to me, and it¡¯s weird.¡± Nick¡¯s eyebrows rose in interest, as he said, ¡°Mental world? We¡¯ll definitely have to talk about that. But what do you mean you took an ¡®adaptation¡¯ pillar? What is that? I don¡¯t think I¡¯ve ever heard of that.¡± While Rose and Cathleen kept silent, they were paying close attention to the conversation. Nero didn¡¯t see the harm in telling them about his pillar, as everyone else freely discusses their pillars. Tapping his fork on his plate while trying to figure out how to describe his pillar, Nero took a large drink from his water. Setting it down, he gave Nick a serious look and said, ¡°It¡¯s about acceptance and change. When I was on the path, it felt like I could become anything I needed to be. The pillar is all about internalizing change, and growing in the face of challenges.¡± The table was quiet as they thought about what Nero had said. Nick spoke up with some confusion in his voice, ¡°So your pillar is about growth? You¡¯re already leveling at ridiculous speeds, I guess it makes sense in a way. Compared to where you were, you¡¯ve changed a great deal in a very short amount of time. I can¡¯t say that the pillar isn¡¯t appropriate. But it seems like a very ill-defined pillar. Did you gain an ability? Or is it more passive?¡± Nodding as he ate, Nero took a sip of water to wash down his morning sausage. ¡°I gained an ability that helps me handle level stress. I¡¯m guessing it has something to do with how much I can gain while infusing stars. I¡¯ll just have to see.¡± Rose joined the conversation. ¡°Why didn¡¯t you choose a more useful pillar? Like one for observation, or recovery?¡± she asked with interest. Nero said, ¡°I didn¡¯t really feel like I chose a pillar. It was more like there were many paths in front of me, and the one with the ¡®adaptation¡¯ pillar just felt the most¡­ right. The other ones felt like half-truths. My pillar was always ¡®adaptation¡¯, I just didn¡¯t know it until I saw it.¡± Nick nodded and said, ¡°That¡¯s how it is with some people. They just know what they should pick. Now what did you mean when you said you saw ¡°paths¡± in front of you?¡± Looking at Nick, Nero replied, ¡°It¡¯s like I said. Lately, when I¡¯ve been meditating, I feel like I¡¯m mentally projecting myself into my soul. This time, I saw a path surrounded by my memories. I even had a body! It was kind of trippy. Then there were all these paths that were associated with the different pillars. They were layered on top of each other. It was like I could scroll through them in order to choose which path I wanted to put in front of me. I didn¡¯t read anything about that, so I was curious if that was weird.¡± Once again, silence met Nero¡¯s words. Everyone had stopped eating and was staring at Nero like he was crazy. Nick said, ¡°Yes, Nero. That is weird. Most people just see an interface they can interact with at level 10. I¡¯ve never heard about anyone experiencing what you just described.¡± Shrugging, Nero said, ¡°Eh, I¡¯m sure it will be fine. Let¡¯s finish our meal and get back to training.¡± Pointing at Cathleen, Nero said, ¡°Today I¡¯m going to at least make you earn it.¡± Cathleen smiled as she stabbed a sausage and pointed it at Nero. ¡°I always earn my victories. Learn quickly little lord. Right now you are nothing but a crappy training partner. Hopefully you¡¯ll be more dangerous than a puppy by the time we head into the wilds.¡± After she finished her taunt, she ripped the sausage from her fork with her teeth. Snorting, Nero said, ¡°That was the lamest trash talk I¡¯ve ever heard. It felt like you were encouraging me. What the hell is wrong with you. Let me show you how it¡¯s done.¡± Clearing his throat, Nero straightened in his chair and scowled at Cathleen from across the table. In a cold voice he said, ¡°I¡¯m gonna kick your ass so hard that your pillar will change to ¡®shame¡¯. You¡¯ll rue the day you stepped into the ring with this little lord. You hear me, you ancient harpy!¡± Rose couldn¡¯t help it, and burst into laughter. Nick hid his head in his hands as his shoulders shook in amusement. Cathleen, however, was smiling ear to ear when she said, ¡°Oh, it¡¯s gonna be a great day. I can feel it.¡± Feeling a shiver down his spine, Nero gulped and forced himself to return a smile of his own. Maybe he went a little too far? This wasn¡¯t a mmorpg, he was going to be within arms reach. On the way to the training ring, Nero could only take comfort in the fact that there were two green shirt medics waiting for them. Even death wouldn¡¯t stop him. Telling himself that it would be fine, Nero faced off against Cathleen and prepared himself to receive an ass-kicking of epic proportions. Chapter 74 - All practice is boring. The council of mages'' meeting room in the Tower of Magic was always relatively full. At minimum, there would be two or three arch-mages using the room to argue about something. There were always new findings to discuss, and new conclusions to defend. But over the past week, the topic of conversation always had to do with the anomaly that was currently living in Dorchester. At first, the mage-council was watching the young man¡¯s every move with interest, but over time their attention began to slip. It was difficult for any subject to hold their interest for a prolonged period of time. But there was still always at least one mage watching what the young troublemaker was up to. In fact, the council had a long-range scry-connection set up between the council chamber¡¯s communication crystal and their leader, Arch-mage Jennings, who was currently in Dorchester, personally monitoring the anomaly. But this morning, the mage council was gathering like ants on an apple core. Word had gotten around that the anomaly had received his first pillar, and it was said to be a doozy. Large screens were hovering in the room above the large circular table, each displaying records of readings taken from Nero during some of his more interesting events. There were videos playing of the young man¡¯s highlights, although if asked, the arch-mages would refer to them as reference materials. As more and more random mages burst into the room as word of mouth spread, the conversation became more lively as those who had been absent were caught up on Nero¡¯s life. From the side of the table, a mage shouted, ¡°I found it! There was a record for an ¡®adaptation¡¯ pillar. Dammit! Give me control of one of the projectors!¡± Taking control of one of the screens, she brought up the historical account of the only person in history to have an ¡®adaptation¡¯ pillar before Nero. The mages all quieted down and started reading the report currently displayed on the massive hologram. Quiet mutterings could be heard, but the room was relatively silent considering there were almost 35 mages and arch-mages crammed into the room. One of the mages broke the silence by asking, ¡°Is this everything we have? All of this is anecdotal. There was no data collected? No studies on the subject?¡± Angry murmurs started throughout the crowd, as the mob was unhappy with the limited information. Arch-mage Mathers took control of the room by shouting, ¡°Quiet down! Jennings needs to hear this. Everyone who isn¡¯t on the council, I want you out of here. Feel free to take over one of the meeting halls and continue with your analyses and debates.¡± As the mages started filing out of the room, Mathers pointed to the mage who¡¯d found the record and said, ¡°Mage-adept Clancy, you can stay. You found the record, so you should be the one who presents it to the director.¡± Mage-adept Clancy nodded with a smile, proud to be included. She straightened her robes, and tried to adopt an air of confidence. Soon, she was the youngest person remaining in the room by hundreds of years. Taking a seat at the table, she watched as the mage-council took their places while Mathers contacted Jennings through the scry-link. The communication crystal lit up, and an excited Jennings appeared on a screen hovering in front of the mage council. ¡°What did you find out? The records out here were useless. Tell me everything!¡± he said while bouncing in his seat. Mathers smiled and waved permission for Mage-adept Clancy to share her findings. Coughing into her hand to clear her throat, she stood up and addressed the room in a clear voice. ¡°1830 years ago, during the reign of King Marcus, a boy awakened while in a dungeon. He had been living in the dungeon since he was 6, as his older siblings had tricked him into the dungeon and then left him there. Lost, he went further in, and eventually forgot about the outside world. He stayed there until he was 23, at which time he was found by delvers. His story was so unusual that it was recorded and the man became a local celebrity in the nearby city of Connington.¡± She brought up the relevant holograms depicting images of the man along with his story, displaying them for the council¡¯s evaluation. Jennings said with obvious annoyance, ¡°I¡¯m assuming you¡¯re telling me this because the man had the ¡®adaptation¡¯ pillar?¡± Clancy didn¡¯t seem to mind the interruption and just continued, ¡°The local mage tower worked with him, recording his life story and observing his growth. Their findings were logged in the ¡®regional oddities¡¯ section of the historical archive. The man lived to 640 years old when he was killed by a marsh hydra while delving the ¡®Pit of despair¡¯ outside Connington. But his life was rather interesting, he -¡± Jennings interrupted, wanting her to get to the point, he said, ¡°Just tell me about the pillar, then send me the file.¡± Frowning in annoyance, Clancy replied, ¡°From the records, the mages didn¡¯t seem to be very impressed with the pillar. The man was a physical fighter and his pillar seemed to aid in his training. He was reported to have unlimited stamina, and could fight well past the point where others would collapse. He recovered faster from injuries, and could survive in any environment. The mages made note of the fact that the pillar just seemed to increase the man¡¯s natural abilities. Reportedly, there were no special abilities that were gained, or powers that manifested. By all accounts, the ¡®adaptation¡¯ pillar was the least interesting thing about the man. Going back to what I was saying, he was a renowned bard who adventured into -¡± Jennings interrupted again, even more annoyed, ¡°Didn¡¯t they do any level tracking? Essence evaluations? Don¡¯t we know anything?¡± Mathers, who had been looking through the file, said, ¡°They didn¡¯t seem to think his pillar was worth investigating. Most of what was recorded concerned his life and how he survived such an ordeal while growing up. I¡¯m afraid that you¡¯ll have to figure it out on your own. Have you noticed anything of note?¡± Jennings shook his head and replied, ¡°He just got the pillar last night, it will take some time before I can make any conclusions. I was hoping for some information on what to expect going forward. I guess it doesn¡¯t matter. But, let me know if you find anything else.¡± With a wave of his hand, the connection winked out, and the mage council was left staring at the wall. Clancy said, ¡°Well, at least Dorchester hasn¡¯t made him WORSE.¡± The council chuckled, and one of the arch-mages addressed Mage-adept Clancy. ¡°Thank you for your work. We¡¯ll let you know if we need anything else.¡± Clancy offered the council a small bow, then left the council chambers. Another arch-mage from off to the side said, ¡°While we¡¯re here, did anyone see the kid¡¯s close quarters combat training yesterday? If you missed it, it¡¯s definitely worth seeing.¡± Mathers said, ¡°I was busy meeting with the Expansion commission about that Bloodwater thing. If you have a copy, throw it up. Let¡¯s see what we missed.¡± Along with nods from around the room, the sound of personal spaces being opened to retrieve popcorn were omnipresent. Soon the mages were chewing and wincing as they watched Nero being beaten to death by Cathleen, over and over again. ¡°The kid really is fun to watch, huh?¡± one of the mages whispered to the mage next to him. His friend just nodded as she watched the screen while sipping her drink through a curly-straw. ----- He tried to ignore Specialist Howard and Nick arguing about how battlefields affected large scale magical combat, while focusing on his spell work. Rather than attempting to stamp his spells, he was trying to conserve as much center as possible while rapid firing small fireballs at his target. According to Specialist Howard, the trick was to inscribe the spell form into reality as quickly as possible, while keeping a firm hold on the essence from your center. If you were careful, you could collect most of the essence back into your center when you released the spell-form. ¡®Stamping¡¯ a spell-form made the recovery more difficult, but it could be done. Unlawfully taken from Royal Road, this story should be reported if seen on Amazon. The more Nero learned about casting, the more he realized that everything came down to control of his identity. His constructs would become extensions of his identity when he infused them with his center. And as long as he kept firm control of his center, it kept his identity intact. Over time, the world would overwrite his control, and the essence he spent on the constructs would return to being ¡®the world¡¯s¡¯. Standing with his left foot forward while crouching, Nero fired baseball sized fireballs from his hands like he was in an anime. Every two seconds, he felt a ¡®thump¡¯ as the essence was collected the ether then released as a shot. Trying to keep his breathing even, he blinked away the sweat while trying to concentrate. Although this wasn¡¯t the kind of training he had been expecting, he understood its purpose. ¡°Nero, take a break and get some water,¡± shouted Specialist Howard. Panting, Nero let his arms fall to the side after collecting whatever essence was left from his spell form. He stumbled over to a bench and took a seat. Grabbing a canteen, Nero took large gulps as he spilled water all over the place. Both Nick and Specialist Howard were impressed with Nero¡¯s dedication. However, they also thought he was an idiot. Nick sat down next to Nero and said, ¡°Have you managed to infuse your center into your spells?¡± Nodding, Nero tried to catch his breath. Nick just waited patiently for Nero to be able to speak again. Specialist Howard went over to the targets to inspect them for damage and check on Nero¡¯s essence signature. Nero finally managed to say, ¡°I¡¯ve been doing what you said. But, it¡¯s hard to give the spell¡¯s ¡®my meaning¡¯. Infusing my center into every spell takes a lot of concentration. Is it really necessary?¡± Chuckling, Nick said, ¡°Yes Nero, if you don¡¯t impart your center into your spells, they will just fall apart when they interact with another identity. Even a fireball wouldn¡¯t harm a bush without you putting some of yourself into it. Remember, the stronger you are, the more of ¡®you¡¯ your spells can hold.¡± Gesturing at Specialist Howard, Nick continued, ¡°Someone like him would barely have to make an effort, and he would obliterate your essence shield. Sentient species can add their will to their essence, but everything in this world has an identity. Magical combat is dependent on you enforcing your identity into your constructs. Every spell¡­ Every. Single. Spell requires your full effort.¡± Shoulders slumped, Nero could only manage to nod weakly. Even though it sounded like ¡®jibber jabber¡¯, Nero understood what Nick was trying to say. The material world was made up of essence constructs that had an identity. The spells Nero formed just made temporary, weak imitations. Unless he poured some of his identity into them, they weren¡¯t ¡®really¡¯ there at all. They were just holograms without substance. It was weird to think about, but a 100 year old tree had a better natural defense than a freshly awakened human. Thinking back to his arena fight, Nero realized just how lucky he had been. If his opponent were just a few levels higher, Nero¡¯s laser would have been useless. And he had only won the noble war because his air bomb relied on the surrounding air¡¯s identity, not his spell¡¯s. Magical combat was so very simple, yet so very hard. All of the books Nero had read were theory books. Even the household spells book was really just a list of spell-forms that were considered useful. Nero had learned more in the past two days from Specialist Howard than he had from all of hours he had spent reading. But it hadn¡¯t really been the information offered, it was mostly the simple explanations Specialist Howard offered on how to properly cast. It was like Nero had been trying to learn how to drive from reading manuals describing how internal combustion engines worked. Now that he understood the basics of magical combat, he saw why it was so difficult. The center requirements were harsh. If Nero didn¡¯t have such a larger center, then he could only cast a spell or two before he would be out of energy. Stamina could be increased by keeping tight control of his center. But precision required practice, so any waste was disastrous. Luckily, Nero had center to spare for training. It turned out that although the amount of center a person had was based on several factors, it mostly boiled down to how large a soul you had. And if there was one thing Nero had going for him, it was a ridiculously robust soul. Checking, he saw his center was at 56%. It would take a while for his body to appropriate more essence from the surroundings and infuse his identity into it in order to replenish his reserves. On average, Nero was refilling his center at around 20% an hour. Both Nick and Specialist Howard seemed to think that was incredibly fast, but to Nero, it felt absurd. Why couldn¡¯t he refill his ¡®mana¡¯ like a video game; 30 seconds while out of combat, and back to full. While Nick watched over a recovering Nero, Specialist Howard walked up and said, ¡°All right, let¡¯s take a break from casting and work on some spell-forms. Nero, how is your personal space coming?¡± After groaning in annoyance, Nero said, ¡°I haven¡¯t had a chance to work on it. The conceptual method for retrieval is easy, but I¡¯m not comfortable with the creation spell-form. And I don¡¯t want to screw it up. Who knows what can happen if I mess up the anchor? This is my soul we¡¯re talking about here.¡± Nick answered the rhetorical question. ¡°I know what can happen. Nothing. If you mess up, the space will just lose cohesion and return to the ether. Show me your spell-form, I¡¯ll be able to tell if you¡¯re ready to cast it,¡± he said. With a grimace, Nero said, ¡°Fine. But I¡¯m not actually going to cast it.¡± Still sitting on the bench, Nero held out his hands and carved the spell-form for creating a personalized pocket dimension along with the anchor he could hook onto his soul. As it was solely comprised of his center, the spell-form seemed to glow to his senses. Nero was careful not to let any ambient essence be pulled into the spell-form, he didn¡¯t want to accidentally cast it. Both Specialist Howard and Nick were studying Nero¡¯s spell-form. They were both looking intently and muttering to themselves. Nero felt like he was showing a drawing he had made to his parents and was now patiently waiting for their approval. After waiting for almost a full minute, Nero got annoyed and said, ¡°Well? Is it close enough? How hard is it to just tell me what I did wrong?¡± Nick¡¯s eyes snapped to Nero and he said, ¡°Not everyone can actually see spell-forms Nero. We have to feel around for them, and then build an image in our head of what the spell-form actually looks like. Just be patient.¡± Nero raised his eyebrows in surprise. While he focused on keeping the spell-form stable, he thought about what Nick had just said. Nero knew that he had very astute psychic senses, but he hadn¡¯t realized it was that out of the ordinary. In a way, this was game-changing, while also changing nothing. It was an advantage that he had been taking for granted. He decided that he should spend some more time watching other people cast, and start mentally studying their spell-forms. Finally, Specialist Howard said, ¡°It should work. I don¡¯t see any issues. But I have to ask, why did you make it so small?¡± Nero replied, ¡°What do you mean? This is how the spell was in the book. Should I make the spell-form bigger? Why would that matter?¡± Nick said, ¡°He means why do you have the size component of the spell form so small. This is a beginner¡¯s pocket space, you should be able to manage a much larger one. Do you know which part of the spell designates the volume of your personal dimension?¡± Nero looked at his spell and said, ¡°Um¡­ yeah, I think so. I just need to change this part.¡± As he spoke, he shifted the spell form to quadruple the space. If his guess was right, it would make a personal dimension around 4ft by 4ft. Which should be plenty of space for all his books and spare clothes. Both Nick and Specialist Howard nodded, and Nick said, ¡°Yeah, that¡¯ll work. Just cast it, you¡¯ll be fine. Stop being a baby.¡± Frowning, Nero gave in to peer pressure. The moment he let the spell-form activate, it started dragging in space essence along with numerous others. Nero watched as it seemed to attach a tendril to his chest, then expand quickly and vanish. Yet, Nero could still feel it. It wasn¡¯t uncomfortable, but he felt like he added a tab to his identity panel. It only took a thought, and it was like his mind could see a very small room. Even though it was completely dark, he could feel the emptiness waiting to be filled. Smiling, Nero said, ¡°I think it worked. I can see a small room in my soul waiting to be filled, that¡¯s just wild.¡± Specialist Howard asked, ¡°What do you mean when you say you can ¡®see it¡¯?¡± Nick responded, ¡°I think Nero has achieved soul mind unity. Don¡¯t worry about it. It¡¯s most likely because of his unique history. From what I understand, it usually happens around level 75 for mages, sometimes later. I¡¯ve read about it.¡± Nero looked at the two with confusion, and said, ¡°Huh?¡± Specialist Howard looked shocked, but snapped back to reality quickly. Turning to Nero, he said, ¡°Don¡¯t worry about it. Look it up on your own time. Now I want you to show me the spell-forms that you know. Keep hold of your center, and try not to let any escape. Cast nothing, just carve the spells. We¡¯ll see what you remember from yesterday.¡± Turning his head to look at Nick, he said, ¡°And you should go actually get some training in. Standing here watching Nero work his ass off doesn¡¯t count.¡± Nick huffed at the implied insult, but still got up to go get some practice in. Although he did manage to convey his disinterest by walking away like a child being told to go to his room. Ignoring Nick¡¯s petulance, Specialist Howard crossed his arms and said, ¡°Alright, Now start with the basic elemental series I showed you. Start with the 10 earth spells I showed you, then we¡¯ll move on from there. Hold them one at a time. I¡¯ll tell you when you can release them.¡± Sighing, Nero stood up and returned to the training circle. Checking, he saw that he was down to 53% center. Mentally, he scolded himself for having such poor control. He¡¯d have to get better at holding his center. Focusing, he cast the first earth spell Specialist Howard had shown him. As the spell-form for creating a blast of pebbles formed in front of him, he heard Specialist Howard bark, ¡°Focus Nero! Stop leaking your center. Hold onto your center like your life depends on it, because at some point, it will.¡± Nodding, Nero furrowed his brow and focused. ¡®Time and Effort¡­ that¡¯s all it takes. Time and Effort,¡¯ he told himself. Chapter 75 - Try, Try, and Try again. City-Lord Cosgrave sat in her office chuckling at the report that had just come in. The noble house of Morisson had lodged an official complaint against General Branson. They were apparently unhappy with his recent actions. As she read the specifics, she just shook her head in amusement. They were saying that the general had no right to remove their spies. Lord Morisson was of the opinion that their house¡¯s retainers having a secondary objective didn¡¯t violate the oaths of service to the army. As it wasn¡¯t illegal for a house to have their retainers serve in the military, he wasn¡¯t technically wrong. And since the spies were told to follow all of the orders they received from their superiors, they would have been indistinguishable from a common soldier. However, she doubted that spying would be considered an acceptable ¡®personal activity¡¯ which would fall outside of the army¡¯s purview. Guard Dalton was sitting across from her, waiting patiently for her to read the report. His face was serious, as he didn¡¯t see what was so funny about the situation. Sitting next to him was Terrance Blackwood, one of her consorts, and HE at least seemed to share her amusement. Terry sat there with a subtle hand covering his smile. Finishing the report, she said, ¡°So what¡¯s the Tower of Law going to do about this?¡± Terry answered, ¡°I heard that Lord Bennings was trying to stop the council of law from ordering sanctions.¡± Surprised, she said, ¡°They were actually going to try and sanction General Branson?¡± Terry replied with a smile, ¡°No. They were so annoyed with House Morisson, they were going to sanction them for wasting the council¡¯s time with such a ridiculous complaint. Last I heard, Lord Bennings was trying to calm them down.¡± Dalton interjected, ¡°That¡¯s the least of our problems. Since yesterday, the general has been very loud. Historically, he has worked behind the scenes, but now he is visiting the various army compounds in person. He has started multiple training initiatives, along with increased recruiting drives. He even ordered recruiting posters to be put up in the guard stations. There is going to be a picture of Lord Walker standing bloodied on a training field along with a caption, ¡°Our nobles are working hard to protect Dorchester. Are you willing to make them defend the wall alone?¡± From what we can tell, it¡¯s already having an effect on the guard enrollment numbers, and it¡¯s only been a day.¡± Terry laughed, and said, ¡°That¡¯s not the half of it. The general also applied for additional funds from Oglivarch to supplement what he receives from Dorchester. I¡¯ve heard that he plans to mount defensive emplacements along the wall. He has army engineers going through the old plans which are archived in the mage tower. It seems he wants to recreate the old defenses from before House Cosgrave took over the city-seat.¡± Lord Cosgrave sat there with a smile, completely unconcerned. In her opinion, all of these were positives. If the general could fund the increase in defenses without harming Dorchester¡¯s war chest, she was completely fine with it. The issue with the guards wasn¡¯t ideal, but word had already been sent out to the surrounding villages and towns. An influx of refugees seeking safety within the walls would be coming soon. There would be plenty of fresh bodies to replenish the ranks. Looking at Head Guard Dalton, she said, ¡°Make sure the guard increases their recruitment efforts in kind. Have someone come up with something catchy to make serving as a guard sound like a worthy cause. In the next few months, we¡¯ll have plenty of refugees coming in. I¡¯ll set aside some of the funds from the noble war with the Dorchens. I want you to use them to increase training initiatives for the guard.¡± Terry tapped a finger on his chair arm while taking on a look of concern. Noticing his change in demeanor, Lord Cosgrave asked, ¡°What is it Terrance?¡± Looking at her, he said, ¡°I was just thinking about what has the general so spooked. Is it possible we¡¯re underestimating the coming beast wave? I have to admit, I didn¡¯t really understand what that presentation was trying to convey. I¡¯m talking about the one that Center-Research gave.¡± Lord Cosgrave nodded, and said, ¡°It was rather difficult to follow. From what I understand, it will be a large beast wave. But you''re right, try and find someone who has a handle on what¡¯s coming. If we¡¯re missing something, find someone capable of clearing up the confusion. If the general is doing all this, there must be a reason.¡± Dalton asked, ¡°Are we going to do anything about the fact that we no longer have eyes on the army? The general didn¡¯t limit his purge to just the elite camps, he released a total of 1590 troops with ties to the noble houses, ours included. And, I doubt he¡¯ll stop with just them. This could change the political landscape of the city.¡± Lord Cosgrave nodded and said, ¡°It will. But in the long run, this is a good thing. The army is supposed to be separate from the political arena. The fact that we let it get to this point was our fault in the first place. This is a good time to refocus the city¡¯s defenses onto what matters. We have other ways to keep apprised of what¡¯s going on with the army, and our spies were just there to keep an eye on the spies from the other noble houses.¡± Dalton seemed to accept her position, even if he didn¡¯t agree with it. Looking at him, she said, ¡°Now, I want you to get started on those initiatives for the guard. I¡¯ll have the funds for you by the end of day.¡± Head Guard Dalton stood up and offered a short bow, then left without another word. As the door closed behind him, Terry¡¯s tone changed to one of worry as he asked, ¡°Are we going to talk about Deidre¡¯s plan to eliminate Lord Walker? I think that -¡± Lord Heleema Cosgrave stared at him with cold eyes and interrupted him, ¡°No¡­ No we¡¯re not.¡± ----- They were now on day 3 of their training, and Nero was starting to feel the pressure. Captain Angelton had introduced the 16 new recruits to Nero¡¯s squad before their morning workout. They were, in a word, intimidating. Each one of them had been serving the army in the field. They were all hardened warriors, very different from the spies Nero had met two days before. The morning workout went poorly for Nero. Instead of his weakness being ignored, he heard snickers and mocking from the new recruits. For Nero, it was both reassuring and disappointing. On one hand, it was nice to know that people could suck in this world. But on the other, it was depressing to see that people were fundamentally all the same. As he was running around the track, Nero heard another recruit shout, ¡°On your left little lord.¡± Then the woman blew past him like he was standing still. Growling in annoyance, Nero tried to increase his pace. No matter how much he pushed, he was just too slow compared to the other recruits. He tried to tell himself that they were all probably at least level 15, and some of them might even be level 20, but it didn¡¯t help. The narrative has been taken without permission. Report any sightings. ¡°On your left little lord,¡± another recruit shouted then blew past him. Nero was going to get Cathleen back for starting that nickname. The woman was getting better at hurling insults. In fact, she was improving at a faster rate than Nero was when it came to fighting. If Nero didn¡¯t step up his game, he¡¯d lose the verbal war in addition to the physical one. ¡°All right recruits! Fall in!¡± shouted Captain Angelton. Like a well oiled machine, all the recruits collapsed into formation in front of the captain. Of course, Nero was the last to find his place. Panting, he stood there, doing his best to stand at attention. Captain Angelton assigned their groups, and luckily Nero¡¯s squad stayed together under Sergeant Wesker. After some bland words of encouragement, they were released to have breakfast. Nero was a half a second behind everyone, as they all cast a cleaning spell in unison, getting rid of their morning grime. Looking around, he saw Nick and Cathleen and walked over to join them. On the way, he was joined by a tall woman with a combat braid and the sides of her head shaved. She tapped his shoulder, and said, ¡°So is it true that you killed 5 men in single combat to earn your house? Or is that just noble propaganda.¡± Nero looked up at her and said coldly, ¡°It¡¯s true, but I didn¡¯t exactly fight fair.¡± She smiled and said, ¡°Hey, no judgment here. I was just curious. I saw your arena fight. That took some guts to just stand there and let that guy try and take your head. How¡¯d you manage to cast a plasma lance at such a low level?¡± As they walked toward the dining hall, Nero had to reassess the mocking he had been hearing. It was less like hazing, and more like they were treating him as a mascot. Nero didn¡¯t know how he felt about that, but he supposed it was better than having his head shoved in a toilet. He chatted with the woman, whose name turned out to be Marie Denton. She introduced him to her friends from the monster-hunting squads. They were Carrie Moonshanks, and Vance Platt, and they had all come from the same team. They¡¯d been out in the wilds hunting dangerous monsters and beasts for years. The walk wasn¡¯t long enough for Nero to ask half the questions he wanted. By the time they got their food, Nero felt like they could be good people to know. Promising to talk later, Nero took his plate and went to find his squad. After locating them, he took his seat and said, ¡°I was just talking with some of the new recruits. It seems most of them came from the monster-hunting squads.¡± Nero poured himself a glass of water and dug into his eggs, sausage, and something that looked like hash browns. Cathleen said, ¡°Don¡¯t take anything they said too personally. They¡¯re warriors, not politicians. Any insult they gave was probably just meant as a joke.¡± Before Nero could say anything, Nick spoke up while laughing, ¡°Did they pick on you about the posters?¡± Nero gave Nick a look of confusion and said, ¡°What posters?¡± Rose and Cathleen both looked at Nick with curiosity, they didn¡¯t seem to know what he was talking about either. Nick smiled and said, ¡°I heard from Vera that the general used a picture of you for a recruitment push. I¡¯m told it looks great. Vera promised to get me a framed copy. I¡¯m gonna need you to sign it at some point.¡± His amusement was clear, and he dug into his meal happily. Nero grimaced and said, ¡°He could have at least asked. Don¡¯t people have image rights or something?¡± Nick raised his eyebrows and said, ¡°Are you really going to cause a stink? You want House Walker to go on record saying that it doesn¡¯t support the army?¡± Nero stabbed a sausage and said, ¡°No, of course not. I¡¯m just saying that my image shouldn¡¯t be used without my permission.¡± Seeing the blank stares looking back at him from around the table, he continued, ¡°But I guess in this case, it¡¯s for a good cause, so I¡¯ll let it slide.¡± Rose muttered, ¡°Good choice.¡± Their breakfast continued with some light chatting, and Nero forgot to tell his squad about his new friends. Nick tried to constantly focus the conversation on science, while Cathleen spent most of the time calling Nick a nerd without actually saying it. And Rose just smiled and watched. Nero knew she was trying to present herself as an air-head, but he wasn¡¯t buying it. The meal ended before he made a decision on how to handle her. All too soon, Nero was back in training ring 2, facing off against Cathleen in hand to hand combat. She never went easy on him, or at least Nero didn¡¯t think she did. Although Nero was improving rapidly, he never got close to actually hurting her. Every time he tried to tackle her, he went face first into her knee. His every punch was met with a block and instant counter attack. Nero had learned that trying to kick her was idiotic. It only took getting hit in the nuts over and over again in order for him to learn that lesson. Blood dripping from his chin, Nero grinned as he traded blows with Cathleen. She would counter jab, and he would bob. Back and forth they went, until Nero eventually over extended. ¡°Keep your elbows tight when you strike,¡± she said, as she elbowed him in the temple. His mage-armor helped by muting the blow, and Nero dove into a roll in order to gain some distance and let his head clear. Smoothly coming out of the roll, he took his stance and met her low kick with his shin. Instead of just blocking, he tried to angle his block to make her unable to pull her leg back. When she dropped her leg to the ground, Nero stepped forward into her guard. He managed to hit her stomach with a quick 1-2 combination, and then the lights went out again. Dying in this world was weird. By this point, Nero had gotten rather used to it. One minute, you were fine, the next, blackness. According to Nick, the soul couldn¡¯t perceive the material world without a medium like a body. So when a person ¡®died¡¯ they just stopped receiving input from the world around them. Nero had asked why he couldn¡¯t use his psychic field to see what¡¯s going on, but Nick just called Nero an idiot for not understanding how a psychic field was formed. After promising himself that he would look it up at some point, Nero had dropped it. Coming back to life, Nero shot up from the ground coughing. ¡°It was an elbow wasn¡¯t it?¡± he asked while hacking up a wad of blood. Cathleen stood over him, while the medic worked on fixing his numerous fractures and bruises. She said, ¡°Yup. Getting in close is good, but because you¡¯re tiny, like a puppy, it limits your vision. And you are still dropping your guard. You¡¯re relying too much on damage, and not focusing enough on defense. It doesn¡¯t matter if you injure your opponent if you end up dead. Now get up. You look pathetic lying there like that. I know you aren¡¯t a man, but for the next few minutes, how about you pretend you are.¡± Nero chuckled at that last line. ¡°You¡¯re getting really good at the trash talk. I know it¡¯s hard to learn new things when you get older, so I applaud your efforts. It¡¯s too bad you put so much effort into learning how to fight when you were younger, you should have worked on your personality back when you were still pretty.¡± Nero took his fighting stance and squared up for round¡­. 136 maybe? He had lost track around 30 minutes ago. Cathleen chuckled and said, ¡°All right little lord, show me something.¡± Nero growled, he really needed her to regret that nickname. Charging, he feigned a front kick, then dropped it to allow a low spin kick. He hoped to take out her ankle, but over his shoulder, he saw her raise her foot out of the way with casual grace. Completing his spin, he rose to his feet and met her right cross with his forearm. Ducking under her left, he threw out a weak jab with his right into her floating ribs. Up close, his lack of height was an advantage, but it was always hard to get close enough for it to matter. Back and forth they went, Nero focused on feeling the world teaching him what he was doing wrong. His senses were spread wide, and the small mental nudges added up. Every second he spent in combat felt like a lesson. His brow furrowed in concentration, Nero blocked, dodged, and parried Cathleen¡¯s onslaught. But things eventually reached the inevitable conclusion, and Nero watched the ridge-hand approach his neck from the corner of his eye. He was unable to do anything to stop it, and winced in anticipation of the pain. Luckily, his neck must have snapped cleanly, as once again the lights went out. ¡®At least I think I¡¯m getting better. And I bet her hands must be hurting by now, so that¡¯s something,¡¯ he thought while floating in the blackness. Chapter 76 - Prior knowledge for the win. Laying in her bed with her hands behind her head, Rose was using her link to catch up on current events. She was waiting for her check-in with her handler. Every night, she was responsible for summarizing her day, and reporting on what her target was up to. She understood why the general was interested in Lord Walker, the young man was definitely odd. While she was watching the weekly rank matches from the arena, she received a connection request. With a start, she shot up into a sitting position. Instead of the request coming from her handler, she was receiving a ping from General Branson himself. After taking a second to calm down, she took a seat at her desk and opened the connection. She said, ¡°Hello Sir. Is something wrong?¡± The general¡¯s mind was calm while carrying a sense of strength, and Rose found his mental presence as intimidating as his physical one. His voice came through clearly and her palms started to sweat, as he had adopted a stern tone. ¡°Why do you think there is something wrong?¡± he asked. ¡°Well, I was expecting a ping from my handler. But it¡¯s no problem. What can I do for you, sir?¡± she said. The general¡¯s amusement colored his psychic presence and he said, ¡°I was available, and I wanted to hear more about our ¡®little lord¡¯. Anything interesting happen today?¡± Rose replied, ¡°Well, it seems you¡¯ve already heard about his nickname. It seems to cause him some irritation, but I haven¡¯t figured out why. He is still training extremely hard. I tried to keep an eye on him during close combat training, and I saw his bodyguard kill him at least 20 times. I still don¡¯t understand why that is being allowed, it¡¯s insane. Anyway, I haven¡¯t heard anything more about the mental projection he talked about yesterday. Lord Salvatore-Verena didn¡¯t bring it up, or he was avoiding talking about it. And as usual, Ms. Averett was only interested in training.¡± ¡°So nothing interesting. How did the training with the new recruits go?¡± he asked. ¡°It was surprising. Everyone seems to like Lord Walker. It¡¯s like they adopted him. No one gives him a hard time, and they all tease him as if he were one of them. Although, they seemed to ignore me, Ms. Averett, and Lord Salvatore-Verena. Did you order them to get close to him? Because if you did, it¡¯s working,¡± she said. ¡°No. I think they just like the stories that are going around about him. I think he would have seen through it if I had offered a suggestion to befriend him. He is remarkably observant,¡± he said. ¡°Yes Sir. But I have to tell you that you may be overestimating him. He is observant, but only concerning things he¡¯s interested in. His tendency to ignore what he doesn¡¯t want to deal with is much stronger than his observational skills,¡± he said. Chuckling, the general asked, ¡°So he is still staring at the floor while showering, huh?¡± Rose smiled and responded, ¡°Today was even worse than yesterday. One of his new friends from the recruits joined him in the shower and tried to have a conversation with him. Her name is Marie, but I didn¡¯t catch her last name. She seemed to be trying to befriend the target. The result was rather funny. The little lord turned red from embarrassment and avoided all eye contact. He must have gotten his shower done in less than 3 minutes. He practically ran back to his room.¡± The general said, ¡°That¡¯s so¡­ weird. Did you figure out why he is acting like that? What did Nick say when you asked him about it?¡± Rose said, ¡°I have no idea, it doesn¡¯t make any sense. And Lord Salvatore-Verena wasn¡¯t any help. I asked him as ordered, and all he said was that ¡°Nero has some odd cultural hang-ups¡± and I shouldn¡¯t worry about it. Today, both he and the bodyguard laughed at the little lord¡¯s display. The bodyguard told the recruit, Marie, that she shouldn¡¯t be offended and should just treat his actions like a compliment. I didn¡¯t know what she meant, but I think she meant that the little lord found the recruit attractive.¡± The general¡¯s confusion came through the connection, and he asked, ¡°But if Lord Walker was attracted to the woman, then wouldn¡¯t he have been staring at her, rather than at the floor.¡± Rose nodded, and said, ¡°That¡¯s what I thought, hence my confusion. I said that I thought I understood what she was trying to say, but I didn¡¯t say I understood why she said it.¡± After a pause, the general responded, ¡°Fair enough. Anything else to report?¡± ¡°No Sir. I¡¯ll try and find out more about the mental projection he saw during his pillar choice tomorrow,¡± she said. ¡°Copy that. Good job so far, keep it up,¡± said the general, and then he cut the connection. Rose¡¯s shoulders slumped in relief. She hated talking to that man, he was just so damn intimidating. Standing up, she shook it off and decided to get some meditation in before bed. Sitting down in the corner of the room on a small mat, she closed her eyes and reflected on her day. ----- Nero had placed all of his books and spare clothes in his personal dimension. Sitting on his bed with his eyes closed, he observed the little room next to his soul and admired his space-pocket. ¡®How cool is this?!?¡¯ he thought. In order to pull something out of the space, he just had to focus on it, then mentally reach for it. It was like his psychic field pervaded the entire dimension. After mentally grabbing hold of an item, he could simply pull it through the wall, and a micro-portal would appear wherever he wanted. The only annoying thing was that in order to store something, he had to ¡®own it¡¯. That required him to saturate an object with his center, in order to make it his. That little detail severely limited the utility of the spell, as saturating an object took around 20 to 30 seconds of concentrated effort. The good news was, it took a day or two for his ¡®ownership¡¯ to wear off. So as long as he returned the item back to his space within that time-frame, he could keep control of whatever he wanted. As he was playing with his personal space, he received a ping from Vera. Surprised, he closed the little mental window into his personal dimension and opened the connection. ¡°Hey Vera! I wasn¡¯t expecting to hear from you. How¡¯s it going?¡± he asked with a smile. He had finally gotten out of the habit of speaking out loud while talking over the link. Amusement colored her psyche as she replied, ¡°It¡¯s going well. But for the record, I was expecting to hear from you. We haven¡¯t spoken since that debacle with the general. Why haven¡¯t you pinged me to let me know how you¡¯re doing? Or at least to check in on some of our projects?¡± Nero said, ¡°I didn¡¯t want to bother you, and I¡¯m at a training camp. Aren¡¯t I supposed to be cut off from the outside world? And I¡¯m sure you would have found a way to contact me if you needed to.¡± Vera sighed and said, ¡°Nero, why would you have to be in isolation in order to train? Never mind, I don¡¯t care to listen to your weird theories right now. I need to ask you about our trading posts. I¡¯ve procured a storefront near the Hunter¡¯s Hall in gate 15. I¡¯m stocking it with arms and armor, and I¡¯ve set up the paperwork allowing us to purchase essence crystals. What I don¡¯t know is what the plan is. How is this supposed to work? How are we supposed to make a ¡®boat load of money¡¯ like you said we would? The prices for essence crystals are fixed. Everyone can turn them in for the same amount. I¡¯m assuming you have a reason for saying we had to get this set up quick.¡± Nero chuckled and said, ¡°Vera, you¡¯re too nice a person, you know that?¡± Irritation came through the link loud and clear, as she said, ¡°I¡¯m not typically referred to as ¡®nice¡¯. In fact, that might be the first time in recent memory that anyone has ever accused me of that particular fault.¡± Nero smiled, and leaned back his back against the wall while he sat on his bed. ¡°Got it. I won¡¯t make such a horrible mistake again. Now listen carefully, we¡¯re nobles. We get tax breaks, and can buy in bulk. Now we have a trading post, so we can trade goods for crystals rather than money. Stock the store with tents, travel rations, lamps, rope, and all the other little things that are cheap but people have to buy over and over again. Now in addition to us getting the weapons and armor at a discount, we can sell them for full price. We trade the goods for crystals at an inflated price, allowing the hunters to turn in their crystals to us and get their goods right away. As long as our prices aren¡¯t too outrageous, they¡¯ll buy from us because it¡¯s just easier then waiting in line to turn in their crystals to get paid, then go out and haggle to try and find all the things they¡¯ll need in the wilds. You see, we are charging a premium for the ease of a direct trade. In addition, we make even more because we can get the stuff for cheap as we are nobles. If we can manage to make our own products, we¡¯ll make even more. But that is for later,¡± he said. The tale has been taken without authorization; if you see it on Amazon, report the incident. Vera was stunned. She did some basic math in her head, and tried to run the numbers. If they just charged a service fee of 5% for the convenience, then added the discounts to the profits, they¡¯d be making a killing. ¡°Nero, that¡¯s brilliant. You¡¯re taking advantage of human laziness and their desire to save time by blatantly over-charging people and making them thank you for it. How the hell did you think of that?¡± she asked in amazement. Nero shrugged and said, ¡°In my old world, that was like 90% of what business was. Well, that and illegally hiding profits and paying their employees as little as possible without losing them. That touches on the production thing I just mentioned. If we find a village or something where people don¡¯t get paid a lot, we can open up manufacturing centers out there and then just use our shipping company to collect the products after they¡¯re made at a steep discount. We can then charge our trading company for the transport, pay ourselves, record a loss, and then pay even fewer taxes. For the trifecta, we need to establish a separate production company, that way we are always paying ourselves a loss, then all the money being made is just shunted to both you and me as the heads of the company. The company will be losing money every year, while we take home all the profits at the reduced tax rate of the nobles. If we do it right, the companies will be paying no corporate taxes and we¡¯ll get rich.¡± Vera¡¯s psyche was vibrating with conflicting emotions as she said, ¡°Nero¡­ I am so proud to know you. You have never been more attractive than you are right now. I need you never to tell anyone about any of this. This is just between you and me. We¡¯re going to own everything. I¡¯ll be in charge of it all. You just keep coming up with ideas, I¡¯ll handle everything. Remember, DON¡¯T tell anyone about anything you amazing little man.¡± She then cut the connection. Nero was stunned. Vera had never spoken to him like that before. In fact, he¡¯d NEVER heard her sound so happy. It was like seeing a school principle skipping to class, or a comedian praising the human condition. It took Nero at least a full 3 minutes to process what had just happened. Eventually, he shook it off and stood up to stretch. He still had an hour or two before he had to get to sleep. Opening his identity, he checked his progress.
Name Nero Walker Level 10
Race Human Growth 17%
Tier 1 Condition 100%
Age 14 Center 68%
Body 2 Mind 4
Soul 2 Confluence 10
Stars 0 Pillars 1 / 1
Jennings wasn¡¯t kidding when he said that Nero¡¯s leveling speed would slow down when he reached level 10. He¡¯d only gotten a few points in his growth. He wondered if it would really take a week for his next level. He opened his stat breakdown to check his daily progress.
Body 2
Base Operative Level Stress
Presence 11 15.4 1.6
Durability 8 11.2 9.2
Recovery 21 29.4 13.4
Speed 13 18.2 8.5
Adaptability 32 44.8 9.9
Power 8 11.2 14.2
Mind 4
Base Operative Level Stress
Weight 26 46.8 4.8
Control 29 52.2 9.1
Field 23 41.4 12.9
Precision 39 70.2 16.4
Endurance 46 82.8 14.1
Focus 48 86.4 10.9
Soul 2
Base Operative Level Stress
Size 29 40.6 0.4
Density 101 141.4 0.4
Intensity 76 106.4 0.3
Pressure 27 37.8 0.3
Harmony 24 33.6 5.3
Adaptability 270 378 0.1
If he remembered right, he gained a little across the board. Maybe a point or two? All of that hard work for a few measly points. Well, he was sure his skills had gone up a lot at least. Rather than check to see if he was right, he told himself that he was right, and then adamantly forgot about it. Walking over to the desk, he pulled out one of the books Jennings had given him. Nero smiled at the ease of using his personal space, it made him feel like a real life mage. Sitting down, he opened up the spell book to go over the common spells that every hunter needed to know. Having paged through the book before, Nero knew what kind of spells there were. Included in the book were spells for attaching a soul-bound tracker to an item/person/beast, and some for starting fires and cooking, even some for placing deterrent wards. The section on wards didn¡¯t make any sense, but Nero was completely unfamiliar with the field, so he just chalked it up to something future Nero would have to deal with. He spent the next few hours trying to master a technique which highlighted anything with a mind within his psychic field. Basically, a person had to look for disruptions in the ether. It was like looking for holes in the ambient essence. Supposedly, it would be incredibly useful for finding ambush predators that could hide their thought-signatures and emotions. Nero, however, thought it would be useful for finding people trying to kill him. The fact that he was going to be out in the wilds, and comparatively unprotected, was not lost on him. If he were trying to kill someone like him, he¡¯d wait for them to be outside the walls. After all, the CIA didn¡¯t perform political assassinations on American soil, they did it when people were outside of the country, the internet was very clear on that. Eventually, he found himself in bed, mentally going over his memories, collating and assimilating the experience he had gained throughout the day. It was getting easier to feel when he had unclaimed essence floating around waiting for him to take it into his soul-tree (which was his clever term for what he calls his growth stat). It was getting easier to slip into his soulscape and let the memories become part of him. With a smile on his face, Nero drifted off to sleep, happy with the day¡¯s accomplishments. Chapter 77 - Making the best of it. Vera walked into the conference room armed with a thick leather portfolio filled with revolutionary business plans. She had spent all of last night working on them, as had three of Precision Shipping¡¯s lawyers. They were under secrecy contracts, and had been working for Vera for over 20 years. She also had made sure they knew what would happen to them if they crossed her. The conference room was full, and the board of directors watched patiently as Vera took her seat at the head of the giant table. Taking her time, she set up her papers, arranged her mug of coffee, then set out several pens in a line. No one interrupted her preparations, or even spoke a word. Every single person in this room knew who really ran their company, and they rightly feared her wrath. The stories of what she did to people who had defied her were legendary. There were stories of noble houses ruined, people transferred and seemingly disappearing, and financial penalties so severe that generations were affected. Employees of Precision Shipping whispered these tales to each other during holiday events, or while chatting at the water cooler, or sometimes when trying to warn new hires what to avoid. Finally ready, Vera looked up with hard eyes at the men and women who were responsible for the day-to-day affairs of Precision Shipping. ¡°I¡¯ve called you all here for several reasons. First and foremost, I¡¯d like to thank you all for your hard work in absorbing Dorchen shipping over the last week. Although we had to cut their workforce by 30%, most of those employees were fired for cause and thus we didn¡¯t incur any penalties.¡± Looking at a woman near the end of the table, Vera said, ¡°Well done Mrs. Upton, your team performed exceptionally. You can expect your quarterly bonus¡¯ to reflect that.¡± Tapping her finger on the table, she continued, ¡°We have succeeded in keeping hold of 87% of the shipping contracts which were previously handled by Dorchen Shipping. Although I asked for 90% retention, I will let this slide. There were unforeseen factors which affected our initial projections. Always remember, failure to meet projections is not truly failure if you did all that you could. However, an explanation is always required. Mr. Hornton, your team¡¯s performance was adequate.¡± Her gaze rested on a man shivering midway down the conference table. He sighed in relief when she said the word ¡®adequate¡¯. ¡°Moving on to human resources. I looked at your proposal for the new hires. I¡¯d like you to move up your timelines. We¡¯ll purchase another warehouse and double our training schedule. I want our wagoners and haulers trained and out working sooner rather than later. The city is going to be swelling, and our business will grow with the population. We need to be prepared. Ms. Grady, check your pings for the updated proposals. I want them done by the end of the week,¡± said Vera. ¡°Now, before we move on to new business, is there anything that needs to be addressed?¡± she said. A tentative hand raised from midway down the left side of the table. Vera said, ¡°Yes Ms. Casten. The floor is yours.¡± Ms. Casten stood and addressed Vera. ¡°I was wondering if you could tell us how we should address the Lord Walker situation. Technically, he now owns 40% of the company. As you have never offered shares, I¡¯m not sure what to think.¡± The room filled with tension. Everyone was on pins and needles, as they didn¡¯t know what to think about the situation. They were both thankful and nervous that someone had the guts to raise the question of Lord Walker¡¯s relevance to the company. Vera offered a rare smile and said, ¡°I am now the proxy for House Walker. For the time being, I am House Walker. There will be no creative accounting, or plots to regain full control. In fact, I¡¯d say that Lord Walker and I are partners. He and I are opening several businesses and expanding the reach of Precision Shipping across all of Dorchester. I spoke with him last night, and he had several very impressive ideas on how we can increase profits and shrink our overhead. As for his presence, you don¡¯t have to worry. This company is still under my control, and always will be. Lord Walker will be a silent partner. Merely an advisor to me. Does that answer your question?¡± Nodding quickly, Ms. Casten returned to her seat. The tension bled from the room, and everyone seemed happy that nothing had changed. If there was one thing they believed in, it was Vera¡¯s leadership. Under her, they would grow and prosper. Tapping her hand on the leather folder in front of her, Vera said, ¡°I mentioned that I spoke with Lord Walker last night. Here in this folder are some updated business practices that will be implemented immediately. We are doing some shuffling of our resources on paper. Based on a few words from Lord Walker, we¡¯re going to be reducing our operating costs by 13% and increasing our profits by 9%.¡± Seeing the shocked looks of the board members, she smiled and said, ¡°Yes, you heard correctly. With a little clever reorganization of our books, we¡¯ll make more and spend less. Everyone bring up the file I just sent you labeled ¡®The Walker Plan¡¯, and we¡¯ll get started.¡± One of the members of the board muttered a little too loudly, ¡°An advisor indeed.¡± Vera just smiled and started walking them through their updated business model. They would be using their new company, Precision Trading, as their clearing house for storage and sales. Blacksmiths and crafters would comprise another new company, Precision Manufacturing. And finally, the company would now be paying profits directly to the company Director, Vera Salvatore-Verena, and the company President, Lord Nero Walker. The profit distribution would be the same, but now the income will be taxed under the noble rules, rather than as a noble business. Vera was a rich woman, but Nero had just increased her projected income for the year by nearly 30%, and their new companies hadn''t even opened yet. Even better, when she officially reported this exploit under House Walker¡¯s name, she would be on the paperwork. Therefore, any future regulations and laws addressing this type of business practice would have an exemption for her. She couldn¡¯t help but smile at the faces her rivals would make when they heard what she¡¯d done. This was a master-stroke. The tale has been stolen; if detected on Amazon, report the violation. While the board of directors went through the paperwork, Vera tried to think of a suitable marriage candidate for her favorite little lord. ----- Nero focused his attention on maintaining the essence induction into his training blades. The idea was that by filling them with his center, they would more easily pass through an opponent¡¯s essence field. If he let it drop, his blades would be rendered useless. It hardly took any essence, but the concentration was stressful. Dodging a spear thrust, he batted the haft toward the sky. Taking advantage of the open space he had just made, he crouched and quick-stepped forward, thrusting the knife in his left hand toward Cathleen¡¯s calf. Nero focused on making sure the blade was thoroughly coated in his center. His heart leapt in joy as he felt the blade graze the backside of her knee. But before he could take advantage of his strike, he was struck in the face as she pushed the haft of the spear into his nose. His vision went white with pain, and he felt his facial bones shatter. Even though he couldn¡¯t see, he stubbornly tried to swing the sword in his right hand. Had his thrust gone as planned, he would have planted it directly in her gut. Alas, it was not meant to be, as he struck only air. He felt the spear hook his right leg, and his feet were pulled off the ground. Unable to see, he tried to keep hold of his weapons as his entire body was now horizontal to the ground, and about three feet in the air. Plummeting to the ground, he landed flat on his back. The air was forcefully expelled from his lungs, and he felt Cathleen¡¯s spear rip into his chest and pin him to the training field. Thankfully, the pain went away along with the lights, and Nero was returned to the black. Realizing that she must have speared him in the heart, Nero floated in the blackness and cursed her training methods. As he waited for his body to be repaired by the medics, Nero tried to feel around the black. Regardless of what Nick had said, it didn¡¯t make any sense that his soul was unable to do anything without a body. After all, he still had a mind. A mind was in the soul, it was just copied into the body. Who he was, all that made him ¡®him¡¯, was in the soul. Nero was surprised to feel the tether to his body. It was so fragile. He felt like he could just tug on it a little, and release his soul from his mortal coil. It was like standing at the edge of a cliff and realizing that you could end it all with just one step. Carefully, he mentally took a step back. He didn¡¯t want to mess up and actually kill himself. Before he could look around any more, he was thrust back into his body. It felt like the tether grew in thickness and ¡®pulled¡¯ him down into the body. He awoke to a coughing fit, like always. Hacking up gobs of blood, Nero threw up onto the training field. This was a bad one. As he came back to his senses, he heard the medic screaming at Cathleen. She actually looked a little sheepish. She wasn¡¯t embarrassed, or sorry, but it looked like she realized she might have gone a little too far. Looking around, he saw that Nick and Rose were standing next to an irate Sergeant Wesker. Nobody appeared happy with Cathleen at the moment. Nero tried to stand up and calm things down, but all he managed to do was have another coughing fit and face-plant back into the training field dirt. Feeling the restorative essence wash over his body, Nero laid there and just enjoyed the sensation of having his body fixed. His hearing seemed to come back and he heard Nick shouting, ¡°¡­ you do it in your clan territory! This isn¡¯t the North. Here we have some gods be damned sense! I¡¯ve stood by and let you break this poor man over and over again. But no more! This is not gonna happen again, you hear me!?!¡± As he lay on his back with his eyes closed, Nero shouted to the sky, ¡°Nick! Shut up for a second.¡± Everyone seemed to pause, and Nero could feel their psychic fields freeze in anticipation of what he would say. Nero didn¡¯t move, other than to slowly grin, and said, ¡°I finally got you. I know you felt it. If these blades were sharp, you¡¯d have been hamstrung. I told you I¡¯d get you. Don¡¯t feel bad for over-reacting. If I were bested by someone who had only been training for 4 days, I¡¯d feel pretty pissed too.¡± Then Nero burst into a joyful laughter. He had done it. Maybe he hadn¡¯t even come close to winning a single round. And he hadn¡¯t actually caused her any real pain. But that was a SOLID hit. He had fought with a sword and knife, in combat with a warrior-woman holding a spear. They were surrounded by magic force fields, on a field hundreds of years old which was dedicated to training warriors. And he had struck a solid blow. Nero laughed as he imagined how he¡¯d fight in a hundred years. He would be unstoppable. As his laughter died down, Nero could hear Nick arguing with the medic. ¡°Are you sure he¡¯s alright? He¡¯s not having an issue with his brain?¡± Sitting up, Nero gave Nick a harsh look and said, ¡°I thought I told you to shut up.¡± Nick snorted and offered Nero a grin. Cathleen stepped forward and offered Nero a hand to help him up. Taking it Nero let her pull him to his feet and offered her a wide smile of victory. She just grinned at him and said, ¡°Fine. You hit me¡­ once. It wasn¡¯t even life threatening, so it doesn¡¯t count.¡± Nero chuckled and dusted himself off. Looking around at all the concerned faces he said, ¡°I¡¯m fine. The green shirts are good at what they do.¡± Realizing that he didn¡¯t know the medics name, he was about to ask what it was when Sergeant Wesker interrupted his train of thought. ¡°Don¡¯t worry, you won¡¯t be training with Ms. Averett any longer. We¡¯ll put you with someone a little more your speed,¡± he said with an apologetic tone. Shaking his head quickly, Nero said, ¡°Absolutely not! She¡¯s my training partner. I get to fight her to the death until I win. How can any training compare to that. I¡¯ve got the trusty green shirts right here to fix what she broke, and I can learn from the pain.¡± Shocked faces surrounded him, aside from Cathleen who just looked proud. Nero shrugged and said, ¡°Pain don¡¯t hurt. Failure does.¡± Cathleen rushed forward and hugged him. It was so unexpected that he tried to stab her with his training sword. However, as usual, she was just too fast and he missed. She picked him up and gave him a crushing hug. ¡°You are a treasure! You¡¯re going to be the finest warrior in Oglivarch. Armies will tremble when they hear of your coming. You will be a mage unlike any that has come before. With fire and steel you will decimate your enemies and stand victorious among their broken bodies,¡± she said while spinning him around and proclaiming her goals for Nero in the happiest voice he had ever heard from her. ¡°Put me down you old bat!¡± he shouted. She dropped him like sack, and he landed lightly on his feet. He offered her a grin and held out his fist. She was smiling from ear to ear as she gave him a fist bump. Turning to face the group of still shocked people, he said with pride, ¡°I taught her that.¡± Eyes still wide in shock, Rose said, ¡°What? The speech thing or the fist thing?¡± Nero tossed her a grin and said, ¡°Both. Awesome, right?¡± Chapter 78 - Philosophy used to be science. Lord Cosgrave had just finished dinner when her aide said that Lords Bennings, Brinks, and Masters were waiting for her in her office. ¡®I¡¯m sure this is gonna be good news,¡¯ she said to herself sarcastically. Walking with her aide to her office, she asked, ¡°They said nothing? Not even a hint as to what this is about?¡± Ms. Chandler said, ¡°No, m¡¯lord. They just said it was urgent, and that they needed to see you right away. When asked why they didn¡¯t just ping you, they said they didn¡¯t want to explain their reason for trying to reach you to anyone. They needed to speak with you first.¡± Frowning, Lord Cosgrave said, ¡°Very well, let¡¯s see what has them so worked up.¡± When she finally got to her office, she entered without knocking while Ms. Chandler followed her in and then closed the doors. Seeing their nervous yet serious faces, she asked, ¡°All right, I¡¯m here. What¡¯s this all about?¡± Lord Bennings spoke first. ¡°House Walker has proved an exploit to the house system. All of the forms were filed this morning. They made sure that an hour had passed after they took advantage of the exploit. The time-stamps are irrefutable, and the exploit is a class 5.¡± Standing in shock, Lord Cosgrave felt her gut churn and she fought to keep her dinner down. ¡°I¡¯m assuming that it was already passed on to the Tower of Law in Hennings?¡± Nodding, Lord Bennings said, ¡°I verified it personally. It is both brilliant, and diabolical. Had this gotten out, the house system would have been thrown into upheaval. The crown may very well offer the full award for its discovery.¡± Looking at the two men, Lords Brinks and Masters, she said, ¡°And it has to do with trade and taxes?¡± The two men exchanged a look, and Masters waved for Brinks to answer. ¡°Yes. House Walker reorganized their shipping company and created several new concerns they started alongside House Verena. They figured out a way to legally report massively reduced profits and then pay the profits as a salary to both Vera Salvatore-Verana and Lord Walker. The company will be losing money on paper, but be able to be propped up by them, gaining them a second round of tax breaks. Furthermore, they filed paperwork for the concerns charging each other for their use. They essentially are paying themselves back and forth, reporting no profit, while taking home what used to be taxable company income. Had this been allowed to spread, our current House system would have fallen within a month¡­ across all of Oglivarch.¡± Stunned, Lord Cosgrave started to feel her knees weaken. She managed to get to her chair before she started to stumble. Taking a seat she said, ¡°And they reported the discovery to the Tower of Law? Has the exploit been countered?¡± Lord Benning stepped forward and said, ¡°Yes. The law is clear, the exploit was countered immediately. No one can do it, and the relevant laws will be reviewed at dawn by the Council of Leadership in Hennings. Unfortunately, as per the law on exploit discovery, House Walker along with Vera Salvatore-Verana are able to take full advantage of it for as long as Lord Walker lives. That is unless the King directly forbids it. However, that is very unlikely seeing as it was Lord Walker who discovered the exploit, and Vera Salvatore-Verena who filed the paperwork, and in a very real way, saved the kingdom.¡± Lord Cosgrave poured herself a glass of wine with trembling hands. ¡®How in the hells did this happen? How was what they found actually legal? Bennings must have checked before she validated it, right?¡¯ she wondered. ¡°You¡¯re sure this exploit is valid? Anyone could have done this? They could have just paid out the company profits as salary and then reported a loss? How is that possible?¡± Lord Cosgrave was practically shouting. Lord Bennings looked nervous and said, ¡°I checked it more times than I could count. There is no law saying that they couldn¡¯t. It wasn¡¯t only legal as a technicality, it was actually legal. And the thing with several companies being owned by the same people, charging variable prices to affect their reported earnings, that was legal too. It¡¯s just that no one had thought to do it. It was always a point of pride to have a successful company. A noble¡¯s status is dependent on how much they pay in taxes. So why would anyone want to head a failing company?¡± Snorting, Lord Cosgrave said in a quiet voice, ¡°Because they could get obscenely rich doing it. I can¡¯t believe this.¡± For a full minute the room was silent, drinking in her words. ¡°So what happens now? I¡¯m not familiar with the protocol surrounding exploits?¡± Lord Cosgrave asked. Lord Bennings responded, ¡°A lot of it depends on what happens in the capital. But one thing is for sure, House Walker just became the richest house in Dorchester. Even a class 1 exploit would have a payout larger than the city¡¯s yearly budget. And to think, right now the house is only two people. A proxy, and a recently awakened 14 year old.¡± Lord Cosgrave slumped in her seat as her face lost all of it¡¯s blood once again. She muttered, ¡°I can¡¯t even begin to imagine the marriage proposals and suitors that are going to descend on the city in the next few months.¡± For the first time, Lord Masters spoke up. ¡°At least it will result in a boost to the trade and tourism revenue. We should host a ball,¡± he said excitedly. Everyone in the room stared at the man until his smile wilted. ----- Nero was sitting on the floor of his room, leaning his back against the bed with his legs crossed. The pillow under his ass provided a nice cushion, and he was enjoying his book. His selection for the night was on ¡®listening to the world¡¯. As he read, he munched on some biscuits he had hidden earlier in his personal space. Nero had swiped them from the dining hall during lunch. Absently scratching his chest, his focus was entirely on his book. He was having trouble coming to terms with what he was reading. It was like the first time he learned that light behaved as both a particle and a wave; he couldn¡¯t imagine reality working like that. Reading on this site? This novel is published elsewhere. Support the author by seeking out the original. In this world, reality was just too ¡®weak¡¯. Everything influenced it. If there was a particular type of matter, that would generate essence, which would in turn affect the matter. Only time could solidify essence into material reality. Nero couldn¡¯t wrap his head around it. He knew it was important to conceptualize it, but it just seemed so ridiculous. Setting his book off to his side, he sat in contemplation. He was staring at his chair, trying to imagine it as ¡®frozen essence¡¯ which was given form by its identity. Focusing his psychic field on the chair, he tried to look at it with more than his eyes. It worked, kind of. With a small grunt, he got to his feet and got closer. Running his hand over the wooden backrest, he spread out his center to ¡®reach¡¯ into the chair. He could sense its purpose, its history. Nero knew there was a name for it back home. Psychics who could look at the history of objects in stories and urban legends, but he couldn¡¯t remember the name of it. He could almost see the carpenter fitting the slats together to make the backrest. Going deeper, he saw the lumberjack using a sharp axe to fell the tree the wood came from. The deeper Nero went, the more pressure he felt on his mind. It felt like he was trying to swim against a current. This wasn¡¯t what the chair was NOW, its what it USED to be. There was a ¡®pop¡¯ in the room, but Nero was too invested in his experiment to notice. He felt himself being pulled away from the chair, and forced to sit on the bed. His eyes were glassy, and he was having trouble focusing. As his senses came back into focus, he looked up to see Arch-mage Jennings staring into his eyes with concern. Nero was confused and asked, ¡°When did you get here?¡± Jennings eyes softened and he cracked a smile. ¡°I was alerted to your situation by one of the mages that happened to be looking at what you were reading. When they realized what you were doing, they contacted me immediately. I was the closest person they could reach who would be able to help you. Are you all right?¡± Nero nodded. His head was still fuzzy, and he was having trouble following what Jennings was saying. ¡°I¡¯m fine. I was just listening to the world. It¡¯s just so big¡­ you know? The history of everything. Its like a big rug. You can step back and see the whole thing, or you can look closer. Each thread is placed with care. It all comes together to make what we see. But reality isn¡¯t the rug, it¡¯s the threads. But even the threads come from somewhere,¡± he said, rambling. Jennings patted Nero¡¯s shoulder, then waved his hand and pulled a glass of water out of thin air. ¡°Here, drink this,¡± he said. Nero did as he was told. The cold water caused him to regain a little color, and his eyes started to focus a little easier. Nero frowned as his brain started working again. He was now sitting on his bed, only in his underwear, and Jennings was standing over him. Looking up at him, Nero said, ¡°What the hell was that? Why are you here? When did you get here? How did -¡± Jennings held up his hands to interrupt the panicking young man, and said, ¡°Nero, calm down. Just breathe for a second. I already told you. Think. Focus on trying to remember, it will help.¡± Nero nodded, calming himself back down. He started to remember what happened, working backward. He remembered what Jennings said when he showed up. He remembered the ¡®pop¡¯ sound. And then he remembered the images he saw of the history of his chair. It was like he was observing the chair¡¯s life in reverse, going deeper and deeper until he had gotten lost. At one point, he was floating on the ether among the essence of the world. Looking up at Jennings he said, ¡°That was ¡®delving too deep¡¯ right? I read about that, but it didn¡¯t make sense. Now I see what they were talking about. Holy crap! It was like I forgot I was a person. Time stopped meaning anything, and I was just essence on the wind.¡± Jennings snapped his fingers in front of Nero¡¯s face, causing the young man to focus on him. ¡°Don¡¯t try and chase the memory. You¡¯re not nearly strong enough to ride an essence trail like that. I¡¯m surprised you were able to even go that deep. Every time you delve, you need to remember to hold on to who you are. You are just an observer, not the object you''re observing. You have to keep that thought in the front of your mind, or you WILL end up in a coma,¡± he said sternly. Seeing that Nero was taking the situation seriously, he turned around and put the trouble-making chair to use. Sitting down, he looked at Nero and asked, ¡°So why were you so interested in the history of a chair? You risked a lot to study a common chair. The mages over in Hennings are screaming theories at each other. Please tell me that you weren¡¯t trying to unravel the essence streams that make up the chair. That¡¯s the prevailing idiotic theory.¡± Nero shook his head and chuckled. ¡°No. I was just reading about how all matter is made up of solidified essence, and I wanted to get a closer look at how the hell that was possible. I was having trouble understanding this book, and I thought that taking a closer look at what the chair was actually made of might help.¡± Nodding in understanding, Jennings said, ¡°It¡¯s a complicated concept which is usually covered during Adept training. I gave you that book so that you would have some idea as to how essence can create constructs, not to try and understand the fundamentals of the material plane. You need to learn how to start small. Answer the small questions, before taking on the big ones. For example, show me how you create a basic construct. It doesn¡¯t matter what you create, just create something.¡± Nero nodded and carved a simple spell-form for creating a metal spike. He didn¡¯t fire it, just created the spike. Specialist Howard had shown Nero this spell for launching mini-javelins. It was one of Nero¡¯s favorites. Jennings watched as the essence was pulled into the spell-form and then coalesced. The shiny iron spike hovered in the air, trapped by Nero¡¯s psychic field. The boy was a natural. ¡°OK. Now infuse your essence into the spike, claim it as your own so it won¡¯t dissipate,¡± said Jennings. Nero did as he was told, and felt the spike anchor itself into reality. It felt more real. Without really meaning to, he delved into it. There was no history, no story. The spike was so flimsy. It was like the world wasn¡¯t sure if the spike really existed at all. Nero¡¯s mind was still examining it when he felt Jennings impart his essence into the spike, stripping Nero of his control. Gasping, Nero recoiled. ¡°What the hell man? Why did you do that?¡± he shouted. Jennings chuckled, held out his hand, and the spike floated over to it and then started spinning. ¡°Just focus your senses on it, then pay close attention,¡± he said. Nero focused his psychic field and watched what Jennings was doing. In awe, Nero saw Jennings impart a story into the spike. It was no longer a flimsy construct. Now it was a spike created from the essence of the world, shaped and cared for by an arch-mage. With every passing second, the spike became more and more real. By the time Jennings finished, the spike was as real as anything else in the room. Nero looked up at Jennings, eyes wide with wonder, and said, ¡°That was amazing! You made it real. How?¡± Smirking, Jennings plucked the 8 inch spike out of the air and tossed it to Nero. He said, ¡°That was enchanting Nero. If you¡¯re powerful enough, you can create an identity out of nothing but your will. I don¡¯t know how reality was back in your world, but here, reality is what you make of it. Study hard, but carefully. I don¡¯t want to have to come back here and save you again. Remember to start small. The path is long, and there is no need to rush.¡± With that, Jennings winked at Nero and vanished with a golden ¡®pop¡¯. Nero stared at the spike in his hand that was once essence, but now made manifest. He said to the empty room, ¡°Challenge accepted old man. Reality is what I make of it.¡± Playing with the spike, he smiled and muttered, ¡°Damn, that was cool. I wonder if the magic school he went to had a drama department, cause that dude has style.¡± Infusing the spike with essence from his center, Nero stored it in his pocket dimension. He wanted to keep it as a reminder. Picking up his book from the floor, Nero returned to his studies with renewed determination. Chapter 79 - Worlds with magic have magical problems. The king was sitting in his drawing room, enjoying some time with his head consort, Lydia Collins. She had been in charge of his household for many years, and he had never tired of her fascination with gossip. While he could observe the whole of his kingdom through his abilities, she could do the same with just whispers and rumors. It always made him smile when she fixated on something, then forced him to hear about it. Sipping his wine, he was listening to her describe how she caught Merissa, the queen, ignoring a servant¡¯s pregnancy. Calling the situation amusing was an understatement. Lydia stood in the middle of the room, waving her arms as if she were on stage performing in front of an audience. ¡°So, I¡¯m standing there just listening to Merissa go on and on about what needs to be done. And I¡¯m thinking to myself, ¡®How does she not see how ridiculous this is?¡¯ I mean, the poor servant girl was just standing there, arms full of bed-sheets, her belly making her almost tip over as more sheets were added to the pile she was carrying,¡± she said. At that point, the king started laughing. He could picture Merissa being completely oblivious to the situation. The woman was the definition of focus. She hadn¡¯t earned her position of ¡®Champion Charity¡¯ by being scatter-brained. Pointing an accusing finger at the king, Lydia continued, ¡°You laugh now, but you should have seen the looks on the faces of the other servants in the room. They were all panicking. Every one of them was paralyzed with indecision. They couldn¡¯t decide if they should help the poor girl out, or just stand there and watch.¡± While the king laughed, she took a sip of her wine. ¡°I finally couldn¡¯t take it anymore. Walking up to Merissa I said, ¡°Dear, put the bedding down. We still have weeks before clan Shimmershield arrives. There is plenty of time to put fresh linens down and clean up the rooms. It will all be taken care of before they get here. Besides, they normally sleep wherever they pass out, they won¡¯t care if things aren¡¯t up to your standards. ¡°She looked at me like I was crazy and said, ¡®Whether it gets done now or later, it will take the same amount of time. This task isn¡¯t going anywhere.¡¯ I matched her stare and said, ¡®That may be true. But, Merissa my love, the servant you¡¯re currently drowning in bed sheets is leaving to have her baby in an hour. The task may remain, but she has somewhere to be.¡¯ It was then that our dear Merissa actually LOOKED at the poor girl. I haven¡¯t seen her so apologetic since that time she burned down Sarah¡¯s gazebo when she was trying to learn how to cook,¡± finished Lydia, while flourishing her wine glass. If anyone were to have been watching other than the king, they might have expected her to bow at the conclusion of her performance. King Oliver Oglivarch was holding his side as he laughed, while doing his best to not spill his wine. Just then, the star of the story, the queen, walked in. Seeing the two of them laughing, she furrowed her brow in anger. ¡°Dammit Lydia, you said you wouldn¡¯t tell him,¡± screamed the queen, sounding like a teenage girl shouting at her mother. The king gave up on holding his wine glass. He released it into the air. But instead of letting it fall, he held it with his psychic field. That allowed him to fully embrace the laughter. As he roared in amusement, the queen was throwing pillows at Lydia while chasing her around the room. Lydia flitted across the room like she was dancing through the furniture. She shouted over her shoulder, ¡°Merissa dear, you have nothing to be ashamed of. Anyone could have missed it. How could you have known she was pregnant? She had only been standing next to you for the past year. It¡¯s perfectly reasonable for you to not have noticed her growing belly. I mean, she wasn¡¯t having twins.¡± Merissa¡¯s embarrassment was coloring her face a hilarious shade of red, and the king couldn¡¯t help but watch the women he loved acting like school girls picking on each other. The queen finally got fed up with the fact that she couldn¡¯t catch the nimble woman. She stopped and put her hands on her hips and looked at the king. ¡°Did she tell you that she is the one who spilled wine on your first edition of ¡®Mortigan¡¯s Treatise on Shaping¡¯?¡± The king¡¯s laughter died down and was replaced by shock. He looked over to see a furious Lydia staring daggers at Merissa. Lydia took off toward Merissa like an arrow, while shouting, ¡°You promised you wouldn¡¯t tell! I¡¯m gonna shave you bald, you traitor!¡± Laughing merrily, Merissa ran out of the room, shouting back, ¡°You¡¯ll never catch me! Not when you¡¯re wearing that ridiculous dress. You look like a closet threw up on you!¡± King Oliver just watched them leave with a smile on his face. Sometimes he wondered if those two even wanted him around. Their love for each other made him feel like a third wheel most of the time. He didn¡¯t blame them, they were both more fun to be around than he was. Shaking his head at their antics, his internal musings were interrupted by an emergency alert from the Tower of Law. His good mood evaporated, and he mentally reached out to discover the details. His eyes widened in shock at what he found. He muttered into the now silent room, ¡°Gods above and below, how could I have missed that.¡± ----- Day 5 of their training found Nero covered in mud. The rain was coming down in sheets and it didn¡¯t seem to bother anyone other than Nero. Dragging himself along the rope, he did his best to keep his grip from slipping. This particular exercise was a series of ropes hanging ten feet above the ground. While over the past few days Nero had become used to failing at this, the rain made the failures more humiliating. Several recruits who were waiting for their turn on the rope walk watched as Nero¡¯s grip finally gave out. Rather than the scream they were expecting, they heard Nero yell, ¡°Fuck you rain!¡± Then they got to see Nero crater into the mud. Everyone cheered as Nero crawled out of the mud-hole while muttering expletives, fury clear on his face. Instead of going to the back of the line, Nero marched right back to the beginning of the obstacle and shouted at the woman who was about to start. ¡°Don¡¯t you dare start your turn early! I¡¯m not done yet. I haven¡¯t even begun. This damned thing is going down. I¡¯ll tell you when you can start. Just stand there and watch how it¡¯s done,¡± he said then threw himself off the starting platform. The training equipment wasn¡¯t designed for someone Nero¡¯s size. Therefore, most of the time, in order to start an exercise it required Nero to hurl himself at the obstacle. There wasn¡¯t a single person among the recruits who didn¡¯t find it hilarious. The recruits cheered Nero on as he dragged himself along the ropes, cussing at the rain and mud. Every foot he progressed was met with clapping and encouragement. Nero¡¯s persistence and irritability were a delight to the serious warriors. His crass manner and complete lack of regard for his safety had them all treating him like a beloved mascot. Against all odds, Nero finally completed the rope walk. It only took him 6 tries. He was covered in mud, and the rain caused his eyes to burn. But he made it to the end. It was the first time that he had completed the exercise. The trainers even let the recruits celebrate for a full minute before they started yelling at them to get back to work. Nero¡¯s white smile stood out as he took his place at the back of the line. Pats on the back were awarded by everyone around him. Nero felt like he had finally started to get the hang of this training thing. Captain Angelton walked up, and Nero noticed an almost translucent shield protecting the man from the rain. He looked down at Nero, and the surrounding recruits went silent. He said, ¡°Nice job Walker. Now you just need to do it without using your legs. Then you will add swinging. When you eventually manage to get through the exercise correctly, THEN you can celebrate.¡± After ruining Nero¡¯s good mood, the captain walked off. Nero stared at the man¡¯s back and contemplated throwing a mud-ball at him. As the image of a furious Captain Angelton covered in mud soothed his anger, Nero heard Marie say, ¡°Don¡¯t mind him. He¡¯s just trying to push you forward. You¡¯re doing great.¡± ¡°Thanks Marie. But you know as well as I do that until I get some more levels, there is no way I can do most of these courses the way they¡¯re supposed to be done,¡± he said. ¡°If it were easy, it wouldn¡¯t be training. I¡¯m pretty sure I heard that somewhere,¡± she said with some amusement. Nero stood in the rain, looking up at her and said, ¡°Never use my words against me. They¡¯re my primary weapon. You should stick to your arrows.¡± The recruits standing nearby all laughed. The line moved forward and Nero prepared himself for another round of ¡®What bone will Nero break this time?¡¯. Chuckling at his mental joke, Nero cast a spell to remove the mud. However, there was nothing he could do about the rain. Reminding himself to ask Specialist Howard about shields, he took another step forward in line. The remainder of the day went as expected. He forced as much food into his stomach as he could in the dining hall. He got his ass-kicked by Cathleen during close-quarters combat training. Got skewered numerous times during weapons training. Then he was chastised by Specialist Howard for asking questions about things he wasn¡¯t ready to learn. Suffered some more humiliations on the obstacle courses during physical training. And he ended his day with a terrifying shower filled with super attractive woman alongside physically intimidating men. When Nero finally got back to his room, everything hurt. His joints were sore from over-use of his center, while his muscles burned from being constantly ripped apart then healed. Nero¡¯s pounding headache was a testament to the limits of healing magic. He had read that constant deconstruction and reconstruction would cause a body to stop healing correctly. When he read that, he thought it sounded like taking a photocopy of a photocopy. Eventually, the details got blurry. Dropping his towel on the floor of his room, he face-planted into his bed. With a groan, Nero thought about how just a few days ago, he was so proud of his unlimited endurance. The reality that everything had its limits was not an enjoyable lesson. While Nero once again contemplated giving up on his training, and instead opening Dorchester¡¯s first t-shirt shop, he checked his identity and stat panels.
Name Nero Walker Level 10
Race Human Growth 31%
Tier 1 Condition 88%
Age 14 Center 17%
Body 2 Mind 4
Soul This book was originally published on Royal Road. Check it out there for the real experience. 2 Confluence 10
Stars 0 Pillars 1 / 1
Body 2
Base Operative Level Stress
Presence 11 15.4 6.4
Durability 8 11.2 16.3
Recovery 21 29.4 22.1
Speed 13 18.2 14.3
Adaptability 32 44.8 16.8
Power 8 11.2 19.4
Mind 4
Base Operative Level Stress
Weight 26 46.8 5.6
Control 29 52.2 11.3
Field 23 41.4 14.8
Precision 39 70.2 18.2
Endurance 46 82.8 16.3
Focus 48 86.4 12.8
Soul 2
Base Operative Level Stress
Size 29 40.6 0.6
Density 101 141.4 0.5
Intensity 76 106.4 0.5
Pressure 27 37.8 0.4
Harmony 24 33.6 8.6
Adaptability 270 378 0.2
Seeing his numbers, Nero groaned once again into the pillow. He had known that his growth would slow down. Everyone had warned him, but seeing it happen was totally depressing. Even though compared to the average person, he was still leveling incredibly fast, it still seemed slow to Nero. His incredible level stress didn¡¯t even cheer him up. Nero didn¡¯t have the perspective to realize how insane his numbers were. So, he just laid in bed wallowing in his misery. Rather than get up and study like he had planned, Nero instead retreated into his mental space and reflected on his day. The world seemed to fall away, and Nero looked around the path he was on examining the events of the day. Everything was fuzzy as he felt like he was watching himself relive the broken bones and suffering the brutal ministrations of Cathleen. Nero integrated the experience into his soul, and started to feel his burning desire to overcome any and all obstacles reignite. A part of him realized that he was just reaffirming his identity, like the books recommended. But mostly, he tried not to think about anything, and to just live in the moment. Nero enjoyed the feeling of purpose. But all things must come to an end, and he eventually let his senses return to the real world. His time-sense told him that he had been laying face down on his bed meditating for hours. He only had a couple hours to get his studying done before he¡¯d have to go to sleep. Forcing his sore body to move, he started to get up. Nero was surprised at the lack of pain. Eyes widening in shock, he stood up and tested his muscles. Standing naked in his room, he started laughing as he stretched and discovered that all his pain was gone. With a bright smile on his face, he opened his identity to see what had changed.
Name Nero Walker Level 10
Race Human Growth 46%
Tier 1 Condition 100%
Age 14 Center 78%
Body 2 Mind 4
Soul 2 Confluence 10
Stars 0 Pillars 1 / 1
He was fine again. Completely healed. Even his growth had shot up. Thinking about it, Nero realized what had happened. It was just like Jennings said, ¡®reality was his to determine¡¯. That time spent reflecting was really just infusing his body with his story, strengthening his identity. As happy as he was with that realization, the very fact that the world worked like this annoyed Nero to no end. Grimacing at the implications, Nero couldn¡¯t help but hear the imaginary voice of some hippy whispering, ¡°Hey man, we¡¯re just the sum of our experiences. You gotta know where you were to know where you are. And then you can finally know WHO you are. Cool huh? Hey, pass that joint.¡± Banishing the imaginary hippy from his mind, Nero stomped over to his dresser to grab some clothes. He refused to sit around his room naked, thinking about how reality is just a dream or some other such nonsense. After getting dressed, he plopped himself into his chair, and pulled out a book on healing. He wasn¡¯t in the mood to deal with the ephemeral questions of reality. Nero was going to focus on something useful. Considering how his day went, he thought learning about how to bring people back to life was the most useful thing he could learn. Flipping to the chapter on resuscitation magic, Nero started reading. He found out that a person¡¯s soul stayed tethered to their body for between 5 and 10 minutes. As time passed, the tether would weaken as the world reinforced the idea that the body was actually dead. If a healer could get to a body, they could heal the damage, and then use this spell to delve into their soul and pull them back into their body. Nero kept reading, focusing completely on the lessons in the book. That was until a thought hit him like a taser. ¡®Were the people I killed still alive? Did someone resuscitate them? The mercenaries were probably dead, but what about that assassin kid? Am I going to have a destined enemy after all?¡¯ he wondered. Not wasting any time, Nero pinged Vera. It only took two seconds for her to accept the connection. She greeted him by saying, ¡°I guess you heard about what happened. Don¡¯t worry, I¡¯m taking care of everything.¡± Confused Nero responded, ¡°I have no idea what you¡¯re talking about, but I¡¯m sure you have it under control. I just wanted to ask you if any of the people I killed are still alive.¡± Now it was Vera¡¯s turn to be confused. She said, ¡°What? Who are you talking about?¡± ¡°The assassin and those mercenaries. Did anybody resuscitate them? Are they still alive? Am I going to have to fight them in act 3?¡± he asked. Vera mentally snorted over the link. ¡°No Nero. Everyone you killed is still dead. During an arena challenge, death¡¯s are confirmed and then the soul link is monitored through its collapse. As for the mercenaries, all five bodies were confirmed deceased. Why do you ask?¡± she said. Not knowing how to phrase it, he said, ¡°Well, over the past few days, I¡¯ve died more times than I can count. Once I realized that it was easy to fix a body and shove the soul back in, I thought that maybe one of the people I killed would return to face me in an epic final confrontation on some bridge somewhere.¡± Vera mentally sighed, and said, ¡°You don¡¯t have to worry about that. And what do you mean you died? Was there a training accident or something?¡± Nero said, ¡°Oh, Cathleen kills me a lot during training. Don¡¯t worry, the green shirts bring me back pretty fast. It¡¯s not that big a deal I guess.¡± Vera¡¯s psychic presence went cold, and Nero repressed a shiver. She said, ¡°What do you mean she ¡®kills you a lot¡¯? How hard are you training? Nicholas told me that you were taking your training too seriously, but he didn¡¯t say you were dying. Don¡¯t worry, I¡¯ll talk to Cathleen. This will NOT happen again.¡± Nero interrupted her rant by nearly shouting, ¡°Hold up! It¡¯s fine. The training is good, and I¡¯m learning a lot. Don¡¯t say anything to Cathleen. I need her to keep pushing me. I don¡¯t want her, completely justifiable, fear of you interfering with my growth. I only brought it up because I was afraid of how easy it is to bring someone back from the dead. I want my enemies to stay in the ground.¡± Vera seemed to calm down, then said, ¡°Well, if you want your enemies to stay dead, make sure you don¡¯t leave a body capable of being healed. Burn it to the bone, by the time the marrow vaporizes, resuscitation magic won¡¯t be enough to save them. After that, you could take their head with you, Populators do that sometimes. There are a lot of ways to destroy a body, just be thorough.¡± Nero gulped as Vera calmly explained how to make sure his enemies stay dead. He said in a weak voice, ¡°Right. Destroy the body, got it.¡± Trying to change the subject, he asked, ¡°Anyway, what did you think I was calling about?¡± Vera¡¯s psychic profile startled a bit. ¡°Oh, that. Well, you remember two nights ago when you told me your ideas about how to organize our businesses to increase our profits?¡± she asked. Nodding, Nero said, ¡°Yeah, what about it.¡± Vera happily said, ¡°It¡¯s nothing. You see, I implemented your ideas. Then I filed the exploit with the Tower of Law so it couldn¡¯t be repealed, and so that only we could use it. The funny thing is, they decided it was a class 5 exploit. So you¡¯re probably going to get a very large award from the crown, and we might have to go to the capital for a ceremony. You might get a noble promotion. Oh! And you will probably have to deal with some marriage proposals. Also, you might have to testify to the Council of Leadership in Hennings. I think that¡¯s it. Like I said, don¡¯t worry about it.¡± Nero sat at his desk, completely stunned. That didn¡¯t sound like it was ¡®nothing¡¯. It sounded like it was ¡®something¡¯. Unable to comprehend the enormity of the situation, Nero only managed to mentally mutter, ¡°Um¡­ what?¡± Chapter 80 - Adulting is just realizing that actions have consequences. The entire Council of Leadership was in attendance, even the members that rarely bothered to participate. Even though the ¡®council of nine¡¯ was effectively in charge, there were 30 total members on the council. Today, every one of them had made the trip to the capital. This emergency session was too important to miss. The Hall of Leadership was filled with shouting. Upon arrival, the nobles were given the details of the exploit they were summoned to discuss. Pandemonium had ensued. Shouts of support for the ideas represented were met with declarations of doom if they were ratified into law. Some nobles wanted to take advantage of the situation, others wanted to maintain the status quo. The only thing everyone in the hall had in common, was that they all recognized the importance of the exploit. The hall was brought to silence when the massive doors were slammed open. King Oliver Oglivarch stomped into the room, his face furrowed in anger. The essence around him seemed to freeze in fright. It was so rare to see the King showing strong emotions that most of the nobles didn¡¯t know how to react. As he walked through the middle of the room, the king shouted, ¡°Everyone sit down and shut up.¡± The nobles all rushed to their seats. The area normally reserved for observers was empty, this subject was too important to allow pageantry to interfere with their duty. The gigantic room echoed with the nobles¡¯ hurried steps, as they all scurried to take their places. Taking his seat on his throne, the king abandoned all sense of decorum. Normally he looked regal, but now he looked like he was at a war council, perched on the edge of his seat. The king¡¯s voice rang out into the room, ¡°The house of Oglivarch owes you all an apology. This shouldn¡¯t have been allowed to happen. I am as stunned as the rest of you. The fact that this exploit has been available since the founding of the house system is a travesty of the highest order.¡± One of the few nobles in the room who wasn¡¯t intimidated into silence, Lord Cranston, addressed the king from his house¡¯s table. ¡°Are we sure we want to classify this as an exploit? It¡¯s just clever book keeping. I think there might be aspects of the exploit that could be ratified into law without issue.¡± His words sparked an explosion of shouting and calls for sanctions. They were met with insults and jeers from those nobles who shared Lord Cranston¡¯s opinion. In the Council of Leadership, there were many power-blocks, and few of them ever agreed on anything. There was a reason that their kingdom was led by a king. Infusing essence into his voice which echoed through the hall, the king said, ¡°I thought I told you all to sit down and shut up.¡± His tone was so powerful that everyone froze in their seats. Eyes squinted in anger, King Oglivarch looked around the hall, daring anyone to meet his eyes. Even Lord Cranston and his friends wilted under his stare. Lowering his volume, the king said, ¡°This is an exploit. The house system was designed to put order to the noble class. It seamlessly integrated politics and economics into a cohesive support system around which our kingdom would grow. It was meant to turn the noble houses into a resource for the good of our kingdom. In the distant past, our ancestors provided a framework for what the house system needed to address. One of the core issues was allowing businesses to avoid taxes and bleed cities of their resources while amassing a fortune. To allow a hint of that insanity today would be contrary to its purpose. Taxes are meant to aid the citizens of our kingdom. They provide the roads. They allow the Centers to operate. They are what keeps the walls protecting us strong. If we were to allow anyone to avoid them, we would be inviting disaster. Noble and common, everyone is responsible for our kingdom.¡± The king swept his fierce gaze across the room, looking at each noble. He needed to be sure they understood what was at stake. Most seem to agree with him, but there were still a few holdouts. In a quiet voice he asked, ¡°Do you really want to be the nobles who presided over legislation that led to the destruction of the kingdom? Do you want to return to isolated cities, surrounded by the wilds? You have all read what it was like 10,000 years ago. Do you really want that? If exploits like this are allowed to exist, that¡¯s the world you and your descendants will have to face. As word of these methods of tax evasion spread, corruption will run rampant. Our society will devolve into one of personal gain through the exploitation of the masses. In a mere ten or fifty years, we would have unprecedented inflation leading to a shattered economy. Warlords would create an atmosphere where economics drove policy instead of logic. That cannot be allowed to happen. ¡°It is our responsibility to shape our kingdom into something that can stand the test of time. We must grow it with care, and never steal its resources for short term gain. The house system is what allows Oglivarch to function. It allows for taxes and assets to work together for the good of all. Society cannot function with antagonism and deceit in the halls of power. ¡°Until now, we thought we had a system without loopholes. The exploit reporting system was created to address this very concern. As time goes on, we will find more issues that need to be addressed. Our ancestors didn¡¯t want us to be inheritors of their words, but of their ideas. They wanted the house system to grow alongside us, and continue to serve its original purpose. And we must ensure that it remains the backbone of our kingdom. Otherwise, the noble houses will fall, and the kingdom will fall with it.¡± Nods of acceptance went around the hall. They were all intelligent men and women, but they had let their greed blind them. They needed to rise to the challenge, and be the leaders the kingdom needed them to be. The king saw them straighten in their seats. Even Lord Cranston and his cronies were nodding. In light of their support, the king¡¯s anger cooled a bit. He said, ¡°Now, we have a great deal to do today. It is imperative that we overhaul the tax code along with the laws governing businesses and close the loopholes so that they will no longer allow this kind of exploit. The new laws must be fair, and serve the purpose for which they were originally intended. If anyone sees an issue, let¡¯s address it immediately. We must not fail in our duty. We are nobles, and it¡¯s at times like this when we earn our titles.¡± The nobles in the room were ready. Their steely eyes demonstrated their desire to fix what was broken. The king nodded in silent thanks, then stood up and shouted, ¡°For Oglivarch!¡± If you encounter this story on Amazon, note that it''s taken without permission from the author. Report it. The hall erupted in response, every noble in the room raised their hand and cheered, ¡°FOR OGLIVARCH!¡± ----- Nero had trouble falling asleep the night before. Vera¡¯s casual words weren¡¯t easy to forget. He had injected the shady politics of his old world into this new one, and now he felt dirty. Hopefully, the system they had in place would survive. The hope of smarter people being in charge here was the only comfort he had. The morning had found a tired Nero struggling to keep up his frantic training. Here in this new world, focus was paramount, and he was too distracted with worries to push himself as hard he had been. His struggle was so obvious that Captain Angelton personally pulled him out of his morning workout. ¡°Recruit Walker, front and center,¡± the captain shouted. Huffing, Nero dropped from the monkey bars he was on. While wiping his forehead with his sleeve, he jogged over to the captain who was standing in the middle of the training field, observing everything. ¡°What¡¯s up Cap?¡± Nero asked. Frowning, the captain said, ¡°I¡¯d like to ask you that question. You seem distracted. In fact, if I didn¡¯t know better, I¡¯d say you aren¡¯t the same young man who has been here all week. What¡¯s the issue?¡± Covered in sweat, Nero laid his hands on his hips as he tried to catch his breath. He looked exactly as tired as he felt. With a look of defeat on his face, Nero said, ¡°I got some news last night. One of the ideas I had may have led to something bad. But I¡¯m hoping it won¡¯t end up being a big deal. I¡¯ll shake it off. Sorry, Cap.¡± The captain looked at the young man with curiosity. He asked, ¡°Is this about the exploit House Walker has registered with the Tower of Law?¡± Shocked, Nero¡¯s eyes snapped up to meet the large captain¡¯s stare. ¡°You heard about that?¡± he asked. Nodding, Captain Angelton said, ¡°General Branson thought I should know about it. He wanted to know if you had voiced any thoughts on how the military is organized. I told him that the subject wasn¡¯t a current concern of yours. You are here to train, not evaluate our execution of our doctrine.¡± Nero chuckled. He said, ¡°Thanks for that. If it matters, I don¡¯t know enough about how you guys run things to have an opinion. And I¡¯m not sure I should say anything anyway. Why mess with something that seems to be working fine as it is.¡± As he finished, Nero¡¯s mouth twisted into a sour expression. His regret of trying to game the system clearly evident. In a rare show of understanding, the Captain took a step toward Nero and placed a large hand on the young man¡¯s shoulder. He said, ¡°New ideas aren¡¯t dangerous. They are what drives progress. It is the responsibility of those with power to address them logically and without bias. Just because you have an idea, does not make you responsible for what others do with it. Personally, I want everyone under my command to come forward if they see something that is an issue. That¡¯s how we improve. That¡¯s how we grow. We are here to train to be better tomorrow than we are today. Isn¡¯t that why you are here?¡± Nero looked up at Angelton¡¯s cold, hard, gray eyes. The man looked like a mountain blanketing Nero in his shadow. The Captain¡¯s words were like a balm on Nero¡¯s soul. Sighing, Nero said, ¡°You¡¯re right. I¡¯m here to train. What happens outside these walls isn¡¯t my concern. I¡¯m here to train to fight. Someday, what I learn here will help me survive those things outside the walls, both the political monsters along with the actual monsters. I¡¯ll do my best to remember that. Thank you, sir.¡± The captain offered Nero a rare smile. It wasn¡¯t a large smile, but it was something. He gently patted Nero¡¯s shoulder and then loudly said, ¡°All right recruit. It¡¯s time to get back to work. Get moving.¡± Nero grinned and slammed his fist into his chest like he¡¯d seen the army people doing to each other. ¡°Yes Sir!¡± he shouted, then ran off to return to his training. Reinvigorated, Nero spent the rest of the day doing his best to push his limits. Every exercise, every challenge, every task, he gave it his all. Despite that, he still spent most of the day getting his ass handed to him by Cathleen. On a positive note, she seemed happy with his enthusiasm. Nero didn¡¯t even slow down during his magical combat training. Rather than pestering Specialist Howard about teaching him more complicated spell forms, he kept his mouth shut and just practiced. Like a machine, he cycled through the elemental spell forms, casting them in quick succession. There were four basic elements: earth, fire, water, and air. Specialist Howard had shown Nero ten each, and wouldn¡¯t teach him anything else until he mastered them. Normally, Nero would complain but today he just rolled up his sleeves and did his best to destroy the target dummy. Spells ¡®rock pellets¡¯, ¡®sandstorm¡¯, ¡®iron spike¡¯, and ¡®ground spike¡¯ were among the basic 10 spells that made up the earth-spells. Everything was a variation on creating temporary earth constructs. Some were dirt, others metal, but they all were basically the same. That was a fact that Nero typically pointed out repeatedly. Nero had spells that could send frozen spikes, along with super-heated plasma to make up the fire-spells. Instead of complaining that the category should be called ¡®heat¡¯, or ¡®temperature¡¯ spells, he followed the training regime. His training dummy was frozen and heated like a poorly cooked turkey. His water-spells, like ¡®water-whip¡¯, ¡®geyser¡¯, and ¡®water orb¡¯, caused the humidity in the room to rise. Even though his spells just created ¡®constructs¡¯, the amount of essence in use seemed to affect the entire training hall. Yet, Nero didn¡¯t even bother to complain about the ¡®mud¡¯ spell having multiple points of commonality with the earth-spells. Air-spells like ¡®gust¡¯, ¡®cyclone, and ¡®air-slash¡¯ caused the wind around Nero to pick up. The air became an issue when the sweat on his shirt started to rapidly evaporate. It felt like he was wearing wet clothes in a monsoon. To avoid the distraction, Nero just took his shirt off and got back to work. Ten spells an element, and four elements meant that each cycle was 40 spells. Nero managed to get through six and a half cycles before he started losing control of his spell-forms and was unable to reclaim what he spent when forming them. Once that happened, he started losing more and more center with every cast. By the time Nero got to his eighth cycle, he was running on fumes. Before he managed to complete his water spells, he collapsed in exhaustion. Panting on his hands and knees, Nero felt like he was experiencing the worst flu of his life. His every joint was on fire, there was nausea, along with a cold sweat, and he even had a headache. The only thing missing were clogged sinuses. As he tried to focus and re-center himself, he felt someone approaching. ¡°It¡¯s about time you started pushing yourself. You can¡¯t just ¡®learn¡¯ these spells, you have to internalize them. I gave you these exercises because it¡¯s how we all start. First you learn the basics, then you train the basics, and finally you know the basics. I think you¡¯re ready to learn how to fight,¡± said Specialist Howard with a smug look on his face. Nero just looked up at him from the ground and asked, ¡°What does that mean? What the hell have I been doing?¡± Nick walked up behind the specialist and said, ¡°You first have to know how to cast before you can be taught how to fight. Why don¡¯t you ever listen?¡± Nero didn¡¯t have the energy to argue, so he just rolled onto his back and splayed himself out on the ground. He said into the air, ¡°Hey, if there are any super-mages watching right now, please disregard what I say in the next few minutes.¡± He rolled his head to face the two men standing over him. They were both sporting grins. Nero gave them the most disgusted look he could manage, and said, ¡°You guys are going to regret teaching me how to fight. Maybe not any time soon, but rest assured, your regret will be epic.¡± The two men just stared at Nero, clearly unimpressed. Specialist Howard said, ¡°Sure thing. I¡¯ll be sure to keep an eye out. Take 10 minutes, get your center under control. Use the focusing techniques I showed you. After that, we¡¯ll do a review of how to impart your center into your spells. Depending on how you do, we¡¯ll start on mage-duels.¡± He turned around to walk away but paused to say over his shoulder, ¡°And don¡¯t worry, I know how to cast resuscitate as well as any medic.¡± Nick watched the specialist walk off, then looked back down at Nero and said, ¡°He¡¯s been watching you train with Cathleen. I think he¡¯s been waiting for this. Good luck.¡± Nero just closed his eyes and groaned. ¡®I shouldn¡¯t have warned him. His future ass-whooping should have stayed a surprise,'' he thought. Chapter 81 - I should have learned to juggle. Cathleen Averett had forgotten how much she enjoyed real training. When she had followed two of her brothers south, she had hoped to find worthy warriors to bring into her clan. Yet, all she found since arriving over 40 years ago were weak southerners. Cathleen had found that training in the south was nothing but a pale imitation of what she had faced in her youth. But she stayed anyway, because training wasn¡¯t why she had settled in Dorchester. Over the centuries, the Averett family had spread out across Oglivarch, always looking to improve themselves. They had branch houses across the kingdom, intermingling with the local houses while staying loyal to their clan. She had chosen to stay in Dorchester while two of her younger brothers joined the army in the south. It had taken more than 40 years, but she finally had something worthwhile to report. The sense of accomplishment was wonderful, and she had almost forgotten what true happiness felt like. As she watched Nero cast a cleaning spell to remove the blood and dirt from what was left of his clothes, Cathleen used her link to update the report she was compiling on the little lord. While reviewing what she had just written, her pride in her student was obvious, despite her efforts to reign in her praise. ¡®Training day 6 ¨C The little lord started the day poorly. He was worried about some noble nonsense, and it looked like he was going to fold under the pressure. I am happy to report that he mastered himself quickly. His dedication to training returned with a vengeance. He approached his combat training with the same ferocity that I have come to expect over the past few days. 72 times he faced death today, and not once did he hesitate after resuscitation. The captain has fulfilled his promise and there are several more medics from central command. Even so, the medics are still working in rotations to keep up with the little lord¡¯s requirements. I¡¯m surprised to report that the army didn¡¯t try to interfere, ask me to let-up, or in any way scale back the training. In fact, the captain has given me full control of the little lord¡¯s physical combat training. With the army¡¯s support, I¡¯ve stepped up the intensity as much as I could. We may not have a true warrior camp here, but I¡¯d say we¡¯ve come as close as circumstances allow. If I had a year, I¡¯d say the little lord would have no trouble becoming a ¡®Warblade¡¯. Unfortunately, I only have 4 days left until we head out into the wilds. I don¡¯t know how long we will be deployed, but if he survives, the training will continue.¡¯ Closing her link, she watched Nero meet up with Nick and Rose, while she went to drop off her weapon at the training racks. The little lord was all smiles, as if he had not spent the past few hours on the end of her spear. She couldn¡¯t hold back a smirk at his antics. There was no doubt in her mind, the young man was something special. Even while distracted, she felt a disturbance a few units behind her. Cathleen was careful not to indicate that she had noticed anyone approaching. Instead, she continued on her way to the racks. ¡°Ms. Averett, I need a moment of your time,¡± Specialist Howard said. Feigning surprise, she turned around and raised an eyebrow. ¡°What can I do for you, sergeant?¡± she asked. Specialist Howard wore a serious expression, and said, ¡°Tomorrow I¡¯m going to introduce Walker to mage-duels. Captain Angelton told me to push the kid hard, but from what I¡¯ve seen, you¡¯re the one who¡¯s really in charge of his training. I need to know how you want me to proceed.¡± Cathleen gave the specialist her patented look of appraisal. While staring him down, she was pleased to see he didn¡¯t shy away, or offer any hint of weakness. ¡°How is the little lord¡¯s mage training progressing? Is he actually ready to learn combat casting?¡± she asked. Crossing his arms, Specialist Howard replied, ¡°Yeah, the kid''s ready. I¡¯ve never seen anyone progress this fast. I haven¡¯t even heard of anyone doing it. I tried slowing him down by teaching him the elemental wheel, but he¡¯s already mastered it. That took me two years. And I think he¡¯s already working on infusing his center into his casts. I don¡¯t even know how he has enough center to do what he¡¯s been doing. Long story short, he¡¯s ready.¡± Smirking, she said, ¡°So you want to know how hard you should push him?¡± Nodding, he said, ¡°The captain just said ¡®push him¡¯, but I¡¯ve watched him training with you. If you give me permission, I¡¯ll bring over some medics and give him a few days of real combat. The captain will probably glower at me, but I think the kid can handle it.¡± Cathleen stared hard at the specialist, and said, ¡°If you have the medics available, then use them. Put the little lord down, then pick him back up. I want you to hammer him like steel. You don¡¯t have to worry about him breaking. But I¡¯m warning you,¡± her eyes burned with promise, ¡°If he dies while under your care, you¡¯ll be following him into the afterlife along with anyone you care about. That is a promise.¡± Specialist Howard gulped, but his eyes never wavered. He said, ¡°Your lord will be safe in my care. I just want to see what he can do. Like I said, I¡¯ve never seen someone progress this fast. I want to see what he¡¯s really capable of.¡± Cathleen and Howard stared at each other for a few seconds, then offered each other a nod. The specialist walked off, while Cathleen opened her link to update the report she was compiling. ----- When day 7 of their training started, Nero was ready. He had spent the previous night reviewing his spells and meditating on his growth. If everything went according to plan, he would be leveling to 11 at the end of the day. He was looking forward to it, as he really needed to clear his level stress from his ¡®body¡¯ stat. This story is posted elsewhere by the author. Help them out by reading the authentic version. His morning training went well. Although he still wasn¡¯t able to keep up with anyone, he thought his improvement was spectacular. It felt like he was having weeks of progress compressed into a few days of workouts. Nero didn¡¯t get sore, or suffer from shin splints. His recovery stat was able to refresh him every day, and every morning he felt a little stronger than the day before. Nero¡¯s close quarters combat training with Cathleen was still a nightmare. But, he felt like he was improving faster than should be possible. With the world correcting his form, he let himself float in the ether during his fights. Even though he never came close to winning, he¡¯d gone from a complete novice, to a skilled warrior. He had learned how to grapple. What strikes worked, and what didn¡¯t. He now knew how to dodge, and how to position himself for a proper counter-attack. What would have taken years back home was compressed into days. Unfortunately, Cathleen didn¡¯t seem to notice. Nero didn¡¯t fare any better with weapons. He had long since stopped counting how many times Cathleen killed him. Yet, he still showed massive improvement. His preference was a one handed sword along with a knife, or sometimes a buckler. Nero had mastered the essence blade technique, and had figured out how to improve his mage-armor. While he still couldn¡¯t stop Cathleen¡¯s spear, he was getting very good at making her miss her target. The result was him dying by bleeding out, rather than being stabbed. Nero considered it a win. By the time Nero arrived for his mage training, his pants were barely hanging on, and his shirt was gone. Thinking about it, Nero couldn¡¯t remember the last time he managed to go a whole day without his shirt being destroyed. Luckily, he found a fresh set of training clothes in his room at the end of every day. As Nero thought about how ¡®repair¡¯ magic might work, and whether or not it was hard to learn, he was interrupted by Specialist Howard. ¡°All right Walker, let¡¯s do this,¡± he said. The specialist walked into the middle of the training hall, taking his place in the circle designating the training arena. The man wore a blue shirt like all the other trainers, and he looked like he was enjoying Nero¡¯s hesitation. Frowning, Nero joined him in the arena. He stood about 20 paces away, and stared the specialist down. He said, ¡°Before you tell me about all the rules and crap, how about you tell me what makes combat casting different from what I¡¯ve been doing. I¡¯m already infusing my center into my spells, what else is there?¡± Nero heard Nick shout from the side of the arena, ¡°I already told you! You have to control the essence. Both combatants will fight for control, it will affect your casting.¡± Specialist Howard said, ¡°We¡¯ll start with a simple training exercise. I want you to take over the essence around the ring. Spread out your field and make it yours. You have to hold on tight, because I¡¯m going to take it from you.¡± Nero nodded, then did what he was told. While keeping his mage-armor tight, he spread out his psychic field and took hold of the ambient essence. He let it flow, but held on tight. It felt like he was holding on to a fire-hose. As Nero concentrated on his task, he felt the specialist¡¯s psychic presence fill the arena. At first, it was just a sensation of them sharing the same space. Then, without warning, Nero felt a lurch. It was like he was in a mental tug-of-war over the essence. Specialist Howard was kind enough to give Nero a few seconds to get a better mental grip, then he started to yank. In seconds, Nero was sweating. He felt like he was trying to do math problems while mentally playing a game of push-pull. Nero focused on keeping hold of the essence, while he tried to pry the specialist loose. Meanwhile, the specialist kept jostling Nero¡¯s grip. They traded mental tugs, while slapping each other¡¯s mental probes. It was the oddest, most interesting feeling Nero had ever experienced. His concentration nearly broke when he heard the specialist ask, ¡°OK, now that you have an idea of how this works, try and stop me from taking control.¡± Nero firmed his grip, then immediately felt his control slip. It was like he was playing tug-of-war with a greased rope. In less than a second, the ambient essence was completely out of his control. He could feel Specialist Howard¡¯s mental presence enveloping the flows, and there was no purchase to be found. Nero couldn¡¯t take it back. ¡°Now try and cast something,¡± Specialist Howard said, sounding bored. Nero¡¯s brow was furrowed in annoyance. He didn¡¯t like how easily he¡¯d been bested. Nonetheless, he was curious about how casting would work while the essence was out of his control. He cast a simple ¡®water ball¡¯, which was essentially just a water balloon. While he had no issue carving the spell-form with his center, it didn¡¯t seem to want to pull in any essence. Confused, Nero tried to nudge it; the mental equivalent of kicking the lawnmower, hoping it would magically start. Specialist Howard said, ¡°If you don¡¯t have control of the essence, you can¡¯t do anything. Now, I¡¯ll release my grip a little. Try and take control from me, but keep your spell-form active.¡± Nero felt the specialist¡¯s hold loosen, and immediately tried to rip it out of his mental hands. Instead of taking control, all Nero managed to do was return their mental tug-of-war to a stale-mate. Yet, that was enough. The essence started flowing into his spell-form. It seemed slower than normal, but he was still able to cast the spell. Nero smiled as a basketball sized ball of water flew toward Specialist Howard. Nero watched as the water ball flew straight and true, but before he could celebrate, the ball seemed to evaporate around 5 ft from the specialist. Frowning, Nero wondered what happened. Luckily, Specialist Howard was more than happy to tell him what he did wrong. ¡°You¡¯re still not putting enough center into your spells. Do you think I¡¯m some low level apprentice? I didn¡¯t even try and dispel your construct. You didn¡¯t even manage to get through my essence field, let alone my essence-shield. Try again, and don¡¯t lose control of the ambient essence,¡± said Specialist Howard, while still sounding bored. Nero grimaced at the tone, and redoubled his efforts. He had to mentally fight for control of the essence, while maintaining his spell-form, holding his mage-armor, and then impart his essence into the collected essence for the spell. Even though Nero was just standing there, he was drenched in sweat. It only took 7 casts for Nero to finally breach the specialist¡¯s essence field. He smiled as he saw the water ball explode and then evaporate. His happiness wasn¡¯t allowed to flourish, as he heard Specialist Howard¡¯s laughter from across the arena. Specialist Howard said, ¡°All right. Now that you know how to cast during a mage-duel, let¡¯s add some complexity. Do your best to hit me with whatever you want, while I stand here and try and hit you with some iron spikes. I doubt your essence-shield will be able to stop them, so I suggest dodging.¡± Before the specialist even finished speaking, Nero watched an iron spike launch itself toward him. Eyes wide with panic, he jumped to the side. Unfortunately, his concentration broke, and his spell-form cracked. The mental pain from losing his spell caused a cascade of failures. Nero winced as he lost his grip on the ambient essence. Distracted, he never noticed the iron spike heading for his chest. Nero¡¯s psychic field collapsed, and he looked down to see a foot long spike sticking out of his chest. Too stunned to feel the pain, he managed to mutter, ¡°Huh?¡± As Nero collapsed to his knees, he gripped the spike while hearing Nick asking, ¡°Hey specialist, did he manage to keep his essence-shield up?¡± The last thing Nero heard as the lights went out was Specialist Howard saying, ¡°Nope, I think he got distracted.¡± Then the man shouted, ¡°Medic! Let¡¯s get him up and we¡¯ll try again.¡± Chapter 82 - Its the small things that make life worth living. The Council of Fate had served Oglivarch for the last 4000 years. Gently guiding it ever onward, avoiding dangerous paths, their course set by the Matrix of Fate itself. Sacrifices were avoided whenever possible, but sometimes the optimal path required them to watch the kingdom they served suffer an unavoidable tragedy. Cities were saved and lost, but always with a greater purpose in mind. The council saved who they could, and remembered those they couldn¡¯t. Director Charles Weatherby, known to the council as The High Prophet, took his place at the head of the table. The council of fate was meeting in their hall, as recent events demanded their attention. None of them had ever seen such a divergence from an expected path. Everything was changing, and together, they needed to make some hard decisions. In the dark room, lit only by an essence globe suspended above their table, the council waited in silence for their High Prophet to call the meeting to order. Sitting in his ornate stone chair with a frown on his face, Weatherby asked the room, ¡°So, what do we know?¡± One of the prophets said, ¡°As we suspected, everything stems from the anomaly in Dorchester. It¡¯s already spreading across all of Oglivarch. We have the entire order working day and night updating our predictive models. Unfortunately, we¡¯ve had a divergence of over 60%. The projected path doesn¡¯t exist anymore. We do not yet know how serious this is, or what the future holds. We are essentially blind.¡± Another prophet nearly shouted, ¡°We can¡¯t keep stalling. There are powerful people who rely on our prophecies, and we cannot afford to fail in our promises. Our foreknowledge has helped shaped economic policies, political decisions, and even private concerns. We have already had to send out updates for prophecies that have been altered by the matrix. I have been fielding pings from furious adherents all day. This can not continue! We need to do something. If this gets out, we¡¯ll have a considerable loss of support from the public sector as well.¡± Nods and shouts of agreement circled the table. Weatherby held up his hand and all the sound in the room vanished with a ¡®clap¡¯. Everyone calmed down and turned their attention to the High Prophet. Sighing, Weatherby lowered his hand, and said, ¡°We have asked the matrix for a recommendation. It refused to offer a path forward. The words of the matrix were, ¡®A pebble has been cast into the lake, and the ripples change the picture. A time of change is upon you. Be sure to change with it, or be left behind.¡¯ That was all it said, and it hasn¡¯t responded to our pleas. But fear not, it has still been offering prophecies to guide us. We shall use those prophecies to chart a new path.¡± An angry voice spoke up, ¡°Are we just going to allow the anomaly to live? He caused all of this. He must be cut from the tree so that it may grow without his interference.¡± Shaking his head, Weatherby said, ¡°I asked the matrix what should be done with Nero Walker. It said he wasn¡¯t a concern. The words of the matrix were, ¡®The child of the heavens has made his choice. Change is upon him, as it is upon you. He will face those who wish him harm, and his smile shall end them. Stand aside, and let him pass, for his path does not need to trample yours. Let others fear his coming.¡¯ The matrix refused to elaborate, or offer any specific prophecies directly relating to Nero Walker.¡± The room was silent after the High Prophet¡¯s declaration. The words of the matrix were not to be ignored. Another prophet broke the tension by saying, ¡°The matrix is wise. As far as we can tell, Dorchester now has a chance to survive a level shift. The anomaly may be causing issues, but not all of them are negative.¡± Hesitant agreements were voiced, but there was little enthusiasm. Some of the prophets still looked like they wanted blood. Weatherby spoke loudly in order to be heard. ¡°What we need to do is figure out how to tell people that the prophecies we have been proclaiming at every Hall of Fate are now invalid. There has to be a way to phrase the issue in a way that doesn¡¯t shake the confidence of the adherents. Does anyone have any ideas?¡± The only answer Weatherby received was a silence so profound that he was surprised he didn¡¯t hear crickets. ----- Nero bobbed and weaved, dodging foot-long spikes and finger-length needles. His psychic field was humming as he tried to maintain his control on the ambient essence, while managing his floating spell-form. He could almost sense the constructs hurtling across the arena. It felt like the entire world was just a little out of focus, but it was clearing up as the fight went on. ¡°Focus Nero! Remember to cycle through the elemental wheel. Don¡¯t just hold a spell-form, recapture your center and cast a new spell-form after every five casts. Concentrate!¡± Nick shouted from the edge of the arena. Even though Nero was covered in sweat, panting with effort, Nick seemed happy to sit on the sidelines and sip from his flask. Nero didn¡¯t know if Nick was doing it on purpose, but his resulting anger definitely helped him concentrate. This tale has been unlawfully lifted from Royal Road. If you spot it on Amazon, please report it. Specialist Howard stood in stark contrast to his pupil. He wasn¡¯t sweating, or doing anything other than standing still and smiling. The essence-shield surrounding the specialist was more than enough to deal with whatever Nero managed to throw at him. As if to spite Nero, he wasn¡¯t even using his hands to cast anymore. Like a turret, he just stood there and launched pain and death at his pupil while seemingly having the time of his life. Nero couldn¡¯t help but notice his teacher¡¯s non-nonchalance, and it served to stoke the young man¡¯s fury. As he dodged the incoming projectiles, Nero swore to himself that he would repay this humiliation. Unfortunately, his determination wasn¡¯t enough to overcome the difference in skill, and once again he was a step too late in dodging a spike. The spike slammed into Nero¡¯s chest below his left clavicle and spun him around like a top. Hitting the ground, Nero groaned in pain while doing his best to recapture the center he had used for his current spell-form. He didn¡¯t manage to save it all, but he did avoid suffering a mis-cast. As he lay on the ground, staring at the ceiling, he felt Specialist Howard pause his bombardment. Nero recognized the courtesy the specialist offered by not shooting him while he was on the ground. Yet, that only seemed to make Nero angrier. He felt like the man wasn¡¯t even taking him seriously. Instead of waiting for a medic, Nero forced himself to his feet and glared across the arena at Specialist Howard. Reaching up, he ripped the spike out of his chest with a bloody cough. As he had managed to keep his hold on the ambient essence, he cast the ¡®medical analysis¡¯ spell and took stock of his injuries. Part of his mind dove into his body and he saw that ribs were shattered, and there was a hole in his chest. As the blood started pouring out, he carved a quick ¡®healing¡¯ spell to close the wound. Once he stopped the bleeding, he changed the spell to a ¡®bone mending¡¯ spell to fix his body¡¯s structural issues. Finally, he finished closing his wounds with another general ¡®healing¡¯ spell. Nero may have channeled it a little longer than necessary in order to remove some of his fatigue. The entire time he was healing himself, he had kept up his glare. Although he was rather far away from the specialist, Nero did his best to hide any signs of his discomfort. Once he was healed, he bent over and coughed up the remaining blood, clearing his lungs. He heard Nick shout, ¡°Nero, stop being an idiot. Don¡¯t waste your center on healing, that¡¯s what the medics are for. You should be focusing on combat.¡± Chuckling, Nero shouted back, ¡°Knowing how to heal while in combat is something that I need to learn. Sometimes I keep the spell up, weakly channeling it, while I fight with Cathleen. I¡¯m pretty sure she hasn¡¯t noticed. One of these days, I¡¯m going to surprise her by surviving something she thinks should have killed me. She¡¯ll never see it coming.¡± Nero gave Nick a glower and warned, ¡°You better not say anything. If you ruin my plan, you¡¯re going to regret it.¡± Specialist Howard interrupted their exchange by harshly yanking on the ambient essence. Nero had grown used to the man¡¯s games, and kept his grip tight. It had taken him a while to find the perfect balance of ¡®loose¡¯, but ¡®firm¡¯, in order to be unshakable. It had been a while since the specialist was able to take control of the arena¡¯s essence. Smirking at the specialist, Nero said, ¡°You need to start varying your technique. You¡¯re too predictable.¡± Nero¡¯s heart soared, as he saw the specialist¡¯s smile fade from across the arena. Specialist Howard shouted, ¡°Enough talking, you should be training.¡± As he finished, he launched another foot-long spike, followed by a series of needles. Nero didn¡¯t know if the man was holding multiple spell-forms, or if he was just exceptionally fast at stamping, but it didn¡¯t really matter either way. Realizing that he had no chance to dodge the wide spread, Nero decided to try something new. His psychic field was already spread out, so he used it to focus on the constructs the specialist had fired. While keeping his grip on the arena¡¯s essence, he reached out to implant his center into the projectiles. Since the specialist was being lazy, he hadn¡¯t imbued them with much of his center. Nero had no trouble taking them over. Instead of dismissing them, he let them continue on their path. When they got close enough, he had them swing around like a tether-ball on a string, and they headed right back toward the specialist. Nero added a stamped spell-form ¡®iron spike¡¯ of his own, hiding it among the projectiles he had borrowed from the specialist. A veritable ¡®wall¡¯ of spikes and needles headed back toward Specialist Howard, and Nero grinned like a maniac at the successful maneuver. The specialist¡¯s eyes widened, and he used his psychic field to take over and dismiss the projectiles. Unfortunately for him, he underestimated how much Nero wanted to cause him pain. The ¡®iron spike¡¯ Nero had created was packed to the gills with his center. Nero had put more than double the amount of what he normally used, doing his best to make it as solid as possible. He could only hope that it was enough to ensure it would go through the specialist¡¯s essence-shield. By the time Specialist Howard realized that he would need to use more of his center than usual to counter Nero¡¯s control, it was too late. Like a railroad spike being hammered into the ground, Nero¡¯s ¡®iron spike¡¯ blasted into the specialist¡¯s gut, causing him to bend over in pain. Laughing in delight, Nero shouted, ¡°Medic! The big bad war mage has a boo-boo. Somebody get him a band-aid!¡± Fists in the air, Nero jumped around in victory. Even though he was covered in blood from the many injuries he had taken, Nero had never felt better. Regardless of what happened in the future, Specialist Howard would never forget that Nero had gotten through his shield. Nero wasn¡¯t surprised when he felt another wall of spikes and needles heading toward him without a warning. He rightly assumed that the specialist was a sore loser. Instead of trying the same trick, as he assumed the specialist had taken precautions, Nero pulled another dirty trick. Instead of doing anything fancy, he dropped flat on the ground and performed his first dual-cast. It wasn¡¯t easy, but it wasn¡¯t as hard as he had feared. It felt like tapping his head while rubbing his belly, but only using his mind. Nero fired an ¡®iron spike¡¯, but this time with a ¡®water ball¡¯ surrounding it. He didn¡¯t have much center left, and he felt like his joints were screaming at him. All he could do was lay there and hope that his plan would work. Through his psychic field, Nero watched his ¡®trojan spike¡¯ fly toward the specialist. As expected, the man had no trouble overcoming Nero¡¯s control and dismissing the water ball. But Nero was happy to see that the man hadn¡¯t noticed the spike until it was too late to do anything about it. With bleary eyes, Nero watched as his trainer was spiked in the gut¡­ again. His head was pounding, and he felt terrible, but it was worth it. Nero heard Specialist Howard grunt in pain and yell, ¡°Gods Dammit!¡± Nero was still laying on his stomach, propped up on one elbow. He may look like he had one foot in the grave, but his goal had been achieved. As he laughed his ass-off, he started to feel light-headed. The effort he spent projecting his laughter, so that the specialist could hear it, turned out to be too much. Nero¡¯s eyes rolled back into his head, and he passed out. If Nero got to do it all over again, he wouldn¡¯t have wasted his time laughing. He would have taken the opportunity to verbally mock his teacher instead. Years of online gaming had taught him that an insult is remembered far longer than a mocking laugh. Chapter 83 - What you dont know, can hurt you. Deidre Cosgrave was nervous. She had received word that the contract she had put out on Lord Walker had been accepted. It would be several days until his training unit went into the wilds, and another few days until the attempt was made. It was the waiting she was having a problem with. Every day she worried that her mother would decide that Derek was too large a liability to leave alone. Wringing her hands, she stood on her balcony, lost in thought. She tried to force herself to calm down. But, it didn¡¯t work. She almost jumped when she felt her link inform her of the incoming ping she had been expecting. Opening the connection, she heard her contact say, ¡°Darling, the team is ready to leave. They have the planned route I acquired from the army. I¡¯ve done everything I can to ensure their success. Are you absolutely sure you want to proceed with the plan? This is the last chance to call it off.¡± Her contact didn¡¯t seem very nervous, she knew this wasn¡¯t the first time they¡¯d arranged something like this. Officially, they were a fixer. Whether it was finding someone, delivering a message, or anything else, they were an intermediary and facilitator. Every city in Oglivarch had fixers, they were even protected by law up to a point. Essentially, they were information mercenaries. Deidre knew that if the plan went south, the fixer would usually have no problem selling out their client. She could only hope that her personal connection with the fixer would be enough for her to avoid that fate. Firming her resolve, she said, ¡°Proceed as planned. I expect to hear the good news in a weeks time. Please make sure that everyone involved knows the consequences of failure or exposure. Even if nothing goes wrong, my mother can¡¯t know that we were involved.¡± She felt the fixer¡¯s amusement over the link, as they responded, ¡°There are very few who know any of the details, and I can vouch for them all. If everything goes to plan, you have nothing to worry about. I have even taken the liberty of ensuring that the team will not be able to make it back to Dorchester if they are captured. Regardless of the legal protections in place, I don¡¯t want anyone associated with that mad-man knowing I was involved. I¡¯ve heard enough stories about the ¡®little lord¡¯: the man who faces death with a smile.¡± Feeling a shiver, Deidre said, ¡°Well, let¡¯s make sure there are no more stories to hear. And thank you for doing this. I know that you aren¡¯t happy about it, but I need this to happen. House Cosgrave needs this to happen.¡± A feeling of agreement along with affection came over the link, then the fixer closed the connection. Sighing, Deidre looked out over the city, hoping she hadn¡¯t just made a terrible mistake. ----- Nero woke up to a sense of pain. His entire body felt like it was sore. The sensation was becoming familiar, and Nero didn¡¯t like what that implied. Maybe he needed to cut back on his training a little. It probably wasn¡¯t a good idea to treat this level of pain as ¡®normal¡¯. The conversation going on around him was making his head pound. ¡°You¡¯re not thinking about the individual streams! Yes, the spell-forms will pull in what they need if they were designed correctly. But! That is just because of an imbalance inside the spell-form which demands the world around it to fill in the blank. If you don¡¯t consciously monitor the streams, any spell-form can easily be disrupted,¡± said Specialist Howard with an ¡®I told you so¡¯ tone apparent in his voice. Nero heard Nick reply, ¡°You¡¯re just over complicating things. The likelihood that someone would have the required knowledge and ability to do that would make the fight a loss anyway. If someone could do that, they¡¯d just seize the center of the fight and be done with it. No one would bother disrupting a spell like that.¡± Cathleen¡¯s voice interrupted the argument. ¡°The little lord is awake,¡± she said quietly, but firmly. Nero groaned and spun his legs off the bench. He adjusted himself into a sitting position and rubbed his temples. He saw that everyone was sitting on benches, surrounding him, apparently waiting for him to wake up. ¡°What happened?¡± he asked with a raspy voice. Rose walked over to hand him a canteen. She said, ¡°Training¡¯s over for the day. It seems you went a little too far during your combat casting class.¡± Nero offered her a nod of thanks and took the canteen. Almost by reflex, he cast a purification spell on the contents. Ever since he had found the spell in one of his ¡®hunter¡¯ books, he had been casting it on anything he ingested, even if he poured it himself. The moment he stamped the spell, he grimaced in pain. Although the spell-form worked fine, and the cast went off without issue, he felt like he had just tried to mentally split a check at a restaurant while suffering from a hangover. Taking large gulps of water, Nero heard Nick ask, ¡°You understand what happened to you?¡± Nero finished his drink and breathed heavily. He felt out of breath from the effort required to drink. He said quietly, ¡°I think I over-taxed my center. I¡¯ve done it before. I just need to meditate a bit, I¡¯ll be fine.¡± Specialist Howard spoke up harshly, ¡°What do you mean, ¡®you¡¯ve done it before¡¯. Are you insane?¡± Surprised at the specialist¡¯s tone, Nero looked at him curiously. ¡°What¡¯s the big deal? I¡¯m surrounded by medics.¡± Looking around the room, Nero spotted two green-shirts talking to each other on the other side of the room. He pointed at them and said, ¡°See, there¡¯s a couple over there. Worst case scenario, I kill myself by being an idiot, and then they bring me back.¡± Rose gasped, and Cathleen said, ¡°Nero, medics can¡¯t bring someone back if the soul has lost its tether. If you empty your center, you WILL die. Then your soul will release itself into the upper planes, and the cycle of reincarnation will begin. Your mind will be taken to your afterlife, if you are promised to one. But YOU will be dead. That IS a ¡®big deal¡¯.¡± Nero looked around at the serious faces, and said, ¡°Huh. OK. Well, that would have been useful information¡­ BEFORE I started training with magic.¡± He glared at Specialist Howard and Nick. Both men looked sheepish, but Specialist Howard said, ¡°You already knew how to cast when I met you. How was I supposed to know that you didn¡¯t know the dangers.¡± Throwing his hands up in the air, Nick said, ¡°I don¡¯t know what you don¡¯t know! You just learn random crap, then do things that are insane. If you don¡¯t ask questions, I don¡¯t know what you are wrong about.¡± Nero¡¯s glare lost its edge. He knew Nick was right. Nero had been focusing on his reading. It was like he skipped the tutorial and just jumped into the game. He had been figuring things out on his own. Looking at Nick¡¯s worried face, Nero said, ¡°Don¡¯t worry, I don¡¯t blame you. You¡¯re absolutely right. I haven¡¯t been following a lesson plan. I haven¡¯t even opened the ¡®Introduction to spell-forms¡¯ book that Jennings gave me. I figured the spell books were more important.¡± Rose spoke up, ¡°I thought you were self taught? If you didn¡¯t read how to do it, then who taught you how to cast? I don¡¯t understand.¡± Cathleen jumped into the conversation, ¡°Let¡¯s not get into this right now. Lord Walker needs to re-center himself. Let¡¯s all head back to the dorms and get some sleep. I have some food for Lord Walker in my personal space.¡± She stood up, forcing the conversation to end. Nick shrugged and went along with it. Rose looked annoyed, but didn¡¯t say anything. Specialist Howard stood up and watched Nero struggle to his feet. ¡°Listen Walker, I¡¯m sorry about what happened. I didn¡¯t mean to push you hard enough for you to nearly kill yourself. I formally apologize for my part in what happened,¡± he said with as serious a voice as Nero had ever heard from him. Nero smirked and said, ¡°You¡¯re just feeling crappy because I gut-shotted you twice in a row. Don¡¯t feel bad, I tend to cheat. So, feel free to keep pushing me. My idiocy is my own, and I refuse to have anyone take that away from me. I¡¯ll see you tomorrow.¡± Stunned faces watched Nero walk toward the doors like an old man. His steps were small, and he was hunched over in pain. Nick, Cathleen, and Rose soon followed him. Along the way to the dorms, Nick and Nero chatted about Nero¡¯s clever use of embedded constructs. Cathleen even joined the conversation, as she found the tactic interesting. As usual, Rose kept quiet while listening closely to what everyone was saying. Soon enough, Nero was in his room. He had taken the plate of food from Cathleen, then ignored her when she said she¡¯d see him in the shower. Nero wasn¡¯t in the mood to share a communal shower, and decided that he could skip a day. Even though cleaning spells weren¡¯t as rejuvenating as a hot shower, they would work well enough for today. Nero ate a quiet meal, while thinking about what had happened. He hadn¡¯t realized that he had come so close to actually dying. He had ¡®died¡¯ so many times over the past few days, the feeling was weird. It was like he was a professional sky-diver and he had forgotten what would happen if the parachute didn¡¯t open. Nero could barely taste the food, and mechanically ate the steak and potatoes. After he finished, he put the dirty dishes in his personal space. He pealed off his destroyed pants, and threw them in the corner with all his other destroyed clothes. Looking over, he saw a fresh set of training clothes on his dresser and he almost smiled. ¡®If they come in and drop off the new clothes, then why do they leave the old ones?¡¯ he wondered to himself. Judging the question ¡®pointless¡¯, Nero didn¡¯t bother to think about it anymore. He got into bed and sighed in contentment. He was still feeling the pain as he opened his identity.
Name Support the author by searching for the original publication of this novel. Nero Walker Level 10
Race Human Growth 94%
Tier 1 Condition 67%
Age 14 Center 16%
Body 2 Mind 4
Soul 2 Confluence 10
Stars 0 Pillars 1 / 1
Grimacing, Nero looked over his identity. It was no wonder why he felt so terrible. His center was almost depleted, and his condition was crap. At least he was almost level 11. Laying in bed, Nero debated whether or not he wanted to meditate. He knew it would probably heal him, but the effort seemed too great. It was so nice to just lay there and not do anything. As if he had made some ¡®insight check¡¯, he realized that his laziness was probably a symptom of his condition. His ¡®center¡¯ was what made him who he was. If he didn¡¯t have a strong center, then he wouldn¡¯t have a strong motivation to do anything. He felt like he was back in his apartment on earth, too lazy to get up and do anything. How many times did he feel like he should be out doing something productive, but ended up sitting on his couch ignoring something on his TV while scrolling through memes on his phone. Summoning a great deal of will, he closed his eyes and slipped into his spiritual world. He was once again on his cobble-stone path, surrounded by images of his experiences. The world felt weak, insubstantial, and it was hard to hold it together. Focusing, Nero started going through his experiences. He felt the level come, and the world snapped into place. The fire in his belly seemed to ignite, and Nero¡¯s purpose was renewed. Proceeding as if he was in a trance, Nero categorized and re-experienced the past few days. He came to terms with his pride which had almost killed him. He saw the shady way Rose seemed to watch him, there was no doubt in his mind that she was still spying on him. He recognized Nick¡¯s protective streak, and appreciated the man¡¯s friendship. Nero basked in Cathleen¡¯s pride in his accomplishments, she was amazing. Nero observed his life, and smiled at the adventurer he had become. Eventually, the images cleared away, and the path was clear. Looking into the distance, Nero saw the path he was on led to a mountain. He knew this was all a metaphor or something, but it didn¡¯t matter. He liked it. The open woods around him weren¡¯t real, they seemed like a backdrop. The only thing of importance was his path, and where it led. Smiling, a renewed Nero opened his eyes.
Name Nero Walker Level 11
Race Human Growth 28%
Tier 1 Condition 100%
Age 14 Center 100%
Body 2 Mind 4
Soul 2 Confluence 10
Stars 1 Pillars 1 / 1
Body 2
Base Operative Level Stress
Presence 11 15.4 9.6
Durability 8 11.2 26.5
Recovery 21 29.4 29.1
Speed 13 18.2 18.6
Adaptability 32 44.8 21.2
Power 8 11.2 26.3
Mind 4
Base Operative Level Stress
Weight 26 46.8 9.4
Control 29 52.2 16.2
Field 23 41.4 21.5
Precision 39 70.2 27.6
Endurance 46 82.8 26.3
Focus 48 86.4 18.3
Soul 2
Base Operative Level Stress
Size 29 40.6 0.8
Density 101 141.4 0.6
Intensity 76 106.4 0.6
Pressure 27 37.8 0.5
Harmony 24 33.6 11.1
Adaptability 270 378 0.3
Nero felt amazing, and he looked at his identity and stats with pride. His efforts haven¡¯t been wasted. If the books were to be believed, he should have a massive increase in his physical stats after using his star. Following the plan he had made, he pushed his star into his ¡®body¡¯ stat. The feeling of ¡®being¡¯ was just as wonderful as he remembered. Reality seemed firmer, and Nero felt like he was becoming more solid. It was as if he were coming into focus. The world¡¯s essence hugged him, letting him know that it recognized his existence. The feeling of belonging was marvelous.
Body 3
Base Operative Level Stress
Presence 15 24 0
Durability 18 28.8 0
Recovery 34 54.4 0
Speed 21 33.6 0
Adaptability 41 65.6 0
Power 20 32 0
Nero felt the sensation fade, and checked his stats. Just as he thought, his physical stats had sky-rocketed. While laying in bed, he flexed his arms and reveled in the power he felt. This was the first time that he felt like he really ¡®leveled¡¯. He couldn¡¯t contain his excitement and hopped out of his bed. While in his boxers, he stretched and flexed, the smile on his face was ear-to-ear. Nero dropped down to do a few push-ups and couldn¡¯t help but laugh at how easy they were. Jumping to his feet, he felt energized. He spent a few minutes throwing punches and kicks, shadowboxing with an imaginary Cathleen. Nero couldn¡¯t wait to put his new stats to the test. ¡®Would it really make that much of a difference?¡¯ he thought. Like a bucket of cold water, his enthusiasm was destroyed by the thought. He knew Cathleen was FAR stronger, faster, and more dexterous than he was. Not to mention her skill level. Refusing to be discouraged, Nero calmed himself down. He needed to get some sleep. This was just one step along his path. He was better than he was yesterday, and if he continued improving, then one day he would be strong enough to meet any challenge. Hopefully, he¡¯d level in a few days, and then he could improve his casting. ¡®One step at a time,¡¯ he reminded himself. Nero fluffed his pillow, then got back into bed. He went to sleep with a smile on his face, as he imagined himself slinging spells and fighting monsters. Someday, he would do it all. Chapter 84 - Youre having fun wrong. Nick was enjoying watching Nero train. He had initially thought it would be nothing more than a review session, as he expected to be reminded of his time at the Centerpoint Academy. Yet, he found himself admiring the unique curriculum Specialist Howard had created. It was a very bare-bones introduction to spell casting, and Nick found the idea of using the elemental wheel as the foundation for the class, inspired. But, he had to admit that it only worked because of how rare a student Nero turned out to be. Nero seemed to be able to actually watch individual streams of essence with his psychic field. Typically, mages could only get a general sense of what went on around them in the ethereal plane. It could take weeks before they could learn to recognize the individual streams. But Nero could do it in moments. Nick found it both fascinating and disturbing in equal measure. Over the past few days, Nick had watched Nero pick up spells like he was reading what the specialist wrote in the air. Not only that, but Nero also seemed to be able to memorize the spell-forms without issue. The worst part for Nick was that Nero seemed to be able to recognize the individual sections which made up the spells. Nick could do the same, but it took him hours of correlative analysis, while Nero just said, ¡®Huh? This looks a lot like that part from the last spell. Neat.¡¯ Nick couldn¡¯t help but be a little jealous. Nick was thinking about how odd Nero was while sitting on a chair at the edge of the training arena. He was enjoying an iced tea from his custom made expanded flask, while shouting out encouragement to Nero. He had to admit, this was the best part of his day. He got to sit down and watch Nero constantly fail. Specialist Howard did an amazing job of always pushing Nero a little faster than he could handle. Nick watched as Nero bounced around the arena, dodging spells while muttering insults and complaints. The smile on Nick¡¯s face was unconscious, and he didn¡¯t even notice he was doing it. When Nero took a spike to the shoulder, Nick winced. ¡®That had to hurt,¡¯ he thought. Shaking his head in amusement, he watched Nero stand up and rip out the spike while healing himself. ¡®What a stubborn jack-ass,¡¯ thought Nick. He shouted, ¡°Nero, stop being an idiot. Don¡¯t waste your center on healing, that¡¯s what the medics are for. You should be focusing on combat.¡± Nick was worried that Nero was getting a little too worked up. If he knew Nero, and he thought he did, the young man would soon do something idiotic and amazing. Sure enough, during the next exchange, Nero managed to overpower the specialist¡¯s control of his constructs and use them against him. ¡®How the hell did he do that?¡¯ Nick wondered. Listening to Nero laugh at the specialist¡¯s pain, Nick frowned in worry. Specialist Howard was a professional soldier, they didn¡¯t typically handle failure well. Unsurprisingly, the specialist responded with several spells overlapped. Wincing, Nick braced himself for the pain Nero would soon be feeling. He watched Nero drop to the ground and avoid turning into a pin-cushion. But, then Nero did something he had never seen before, he wrapped a construct inside another construct and launched them both at the specialist. ¡®That¡¯s diabolical!¡¯ he thought. Glancing over at Specialist Howard, Nick wondered if the man had noticed. The specialist was looking furious, and his anger and pride were clouding his judgment. ¡®Uh-oh,¡¯ he thought. Nick watched as the specialist refused to dodge and relied on his control to dissolve Nero¡¯s construct. Nick¡¯s worry was justified, as the specialist hadn¡¯t noticed the spike. When it hit the man in the same place as Nero¡¯s previous spike, Nick stood up. Hopefully, the specialist would take a breath and not rise to the insult. Nick kept his eyes locked on the specialist as he heard Nero¡¯s raspy laugh. But his eyes whipped over to Nero as the laugh cut off abruptly. Nick stored his flask of iced tea into his personal space and rushed over to check on Nero. ¡®Did that little shit just kill himself?¡¯ he mentally screamed. Everyone knew that center-over-use could result in permanent death. Nick was panicking while he ran. He was only 5 units away when a gold flash caused him to stutter to a stop. Nick saw Arch-mage Jennings appear with an annoyed look on his face. The man bent down over Nero and then his hands glowed. Nick cautiously approached and said, ¡°Arch-mage, how bad is it?¡± Jennings didn¡¯t look up, but said in an annoyed voice, ¡°The idiot almost emptied his center. You don¡¯t have to worry though, his soul is damn-near welded into this body. I don¡¯t think he¡¯s in any danger. Although, he¡¯ll be out for a while. What the hell happened? I just got an emergency request to get over here?¡± Nick said, ¡°Nero was training in combat casting. You¡¯d be amazed at his progress. He already has a pretty solid grasp on seizing the center of the fight. But I think he got a little annoyed at how the specialist was treating him.¡± As they were talking, Specialist Howard walked up to them. He had already healed himself, and then cleaned and repaired his shirt. The man looked fresh as a daisy. He said, ¡°I was trying to teach him to dodge while casting. I wanted him to work on paying attention to multiple things at once. But I think I might have pissed him off.¡± Nick snorted, and said, ¡°You think? You were standing there, pelting him from across the arena, making him dance like a performer, while you stood there with a smile on your face. Nero¡¯s anger was justified. What I don¡¯t understand is how you let him hit you. You lost control of the fight.¡± While Arch-mage Jennings eyebrows rose in interest, the specialist bristled. Specialist Howard said in a tight voice, ¡°I just didn¡¯t expect him to take control of my constructs. We hadn¡¯t covered that yet. I may not have imbued them with a lot of center, but he still shouldn¡¯t have been able to take them over.¡± The arch-mage stood up from the bloody body of Nero, seemingly satisfied with leaving the young man as-is. He said, ¡°He actually took over your constructs? That¡¯s amazing!¡± Nick smiled and said, ¡°You think that¡¯s amazing, then listen to this. He wrapped a construct inside another construct in order to hide it.¡± Nick gestured to the specialist and said, ¡°Our brilliant war-mage over there didn¡¯t bother to check and just dispelled the outer shell. He took an ¡®iron spike¡¯ right in the gut.¡± To his credit, the specialist blushed. But the arch-mage seemed shocked and stared down at Nero¡¯s passed out body. After a few seconds of appraisal, he looked back to the specialist and said, ¡°You actually let him hit you?¡± Specialist Howard met the arch-mage¡¯s stare, and said, ¡°I didn¡¯t LET him do anything. The boy tricked me. And let me tell you, his constructs aren¡¯t weak. He pierced my essence shield on his own. I may not have been reinforcing it much, but he still managed to pierce it. His accomplishment was earned.¡± Nick smiled at the interchange. Although he enjoyed giving Nero a hard time, it gave him an odd sense of pride to hear two powerful individuals talking about Nero¡¯s talents. The more time he spent with Nero, the more the young man felt like the little brother he always wished he had. His actual family was too annoying. Frowning, Nick realized that Nero was just annoying in a different, more preferable, way. Arch-mage Jennings broke the staring contest, and said, ¡°Well, the young man is remarkable. You are his trainer, so his accomplishments are yours to share. I¡¯d recommend not letting your pride blind you. I¡¯d bet that he used it against you.¡± Nick chuckled and said, ¡°Did it not occur to you two that Nero succeeded because the specialist was ignoring the very lesson he was trying to teach Nero. The man just stood there and didn¡¯t dodge. He didn¡¯t pay enough attention to what was going on in the ethereal plane. And even worse, he didn¡¯t focus on keeping control of the center.¡± Arch-mage Jennings and Specialist Howard shared a look, then they both burst into laughter. Rubbing his neck in shame, Specialist Howard said, ¡°You¡¯re right. In fact, you¡¯re both right. I¡¯m going to have to keep on my toes around him. The general warned me that the kid had a tactical mind, but I don¡¯t think I understood what he meant until just now.¡± Arch-mage Jennings nodded with his amusement clear on his face. The man then lost his smile and said, ¡°But you both neglected to warn him about the dangers of center-over-use. He could have killed himself while achieving his victory. You need to sit him down and explain how stupid that was. Also, don¡¯t make me come back here. I have other things I need to be doing. I can¡¯t keep coming around here.¡± Fixing both Nick and Howard with his harsh glare, he said, ¡°I. Am. Busy.¡± Then with a ¡®pop¡¯ and a flash of gold, he vanished. Nick smirked at the arch-mage¡¯s antics and then looked down at the splayed body of Nero. The young man had blood trails from his ears, eyes, and nose. His chest and back were covered in dried blood, and his pants were ripped up and covered in blood as well. If Nick didn¡¯t know any better, he would have though he was looking at a dead body. Nero didn¡¯t even look like he was breathing. Unauthorized content usage: if you discover this narrative on Amazon, report the violation. Sighing, he said, ¡°OK. Let¡¯s get the little lord cleaned up. He can sleep it off while we try to figure out how he stacked constructs.¡± When the specialist and Nick bent down to drag Nero off to the side, the specialist said, ¡°You don¡¯t know how to do that? It¡¯s not that hard. You just need to cast two spells simultaneously, then have one of the spell-forms create the construct over the other one. It¡¯s a simple trick.¡± Snorting, Nick said, ¡°If you already knew that it could be done, then why didn¡¯t you stop him from spiking you in the gut?¡­ Twice.¡± While Nick was holding Nero¡¯s legs, the specialist was holding Nero by his shoulders. They were carrying Nero¡¯s unconscious body off to the side of the arena in order to put him on a bench and clean him up. Specialist Howard grimaced at Nick¡¯s question, and muttered, ¡°Shut up Nick.¡± Stifling a chuckle, Nick tried to keep quiet. He really did enjoy watching Nero train. ----- Day 8¡¯s morning training was everything Nero hoped it would be. He felt like he had grown metaphorical wings. Everything was so much easier. He even managed to complete the rope-walk on his first try. Captain Angelton had noticed Nero¡¯s progress, and made sure to adjust Nero¡¯s tasks to keep it interesting. Nero went from having to do the very basics, to now having to do a more difficult version. For example, Nero had been doing normal pull-ups, but now he had to pull himself up, then raise himself above the bar resting it on his stomach, then he could drop back down and do it again. He still wasn¡¯t doing the crazy crap the other recruits were doing, but it was a step in the right direction. By the end of the morning exercises, he was just as tired as usual. Smiling, Nero cast a cleaning spell, then joined his training group for morning breakfast. On the way to the dining hall, they slowly came together. Rose and Nick spent the time talking about some famous person they both admired. Cathleen ignored everything as usual, and just walked next to them in silence. Nero couldn¡¯t help but ask, ¡°I don¡¯t get it. You¡¯re saying that this Madam Humphrey got famous by hosting a show over the link?¡± Rose seemed excited about the subject, and said, ¡°Yeah, it¡¯s in the editorial section. She covers trade concerns, and how to understand the pricing structures. Her editorial last year on the expanded caravans was amazing.¡± Nick nodded along, apparently in agreement. Nero just looked at them like they were crazy. ¡°So she hosts an educational program on how the trade system works between cities. That made her famous? She can live off that?¡± Confused, Rose said, ¡°No, she doesn¡¯t make any money from that. She just does it as a public service. Although she does get sponsored to attend symposiums and lectures across all of Oglivarch. But she usually stays in Dorchester. She is technically a member of House Margrave. She makes her money managing a shipping concern out of gate 3 I think. But she is pretty ¡®famous¡¯ I guess.¡± Nero shook his head in exasperation. It was like the entire city was treating Bob Ross as a movie star. After reflecting on that thought, Nero couldn¡¯t decide if it was any weirder than celebrating a twitch streamer. He decided that it probably wasn¡¯t, then promptly ignored the rest of their conversation. He only cared about HIS favorite streamers, other people¡¯s were stupid. By the time they sat down for breakfast, Nero had completely mentally detached himself from what was going on around him. His thoughts were filled with spell-forms, along with a really cool martial arts kata that he was designing. He figured that if the world was going to teach him how to fight, he could at least offer a kata to collective memory of humanity. Nero considered it his good deed for the decade. ¡°Are you even listening to me?¡± Nick said, snapping Nero out of his thoughts. Nero¡¯s fork was halfway to his mouth, and he froze like a deer in headlights. He looked around and saw that everyone was staring at him. Calmly setting his fork down, he turned to Nick and said, ¡°Of course I was listening. I just thought you were talking to Cathleen.¡± Nick gave Nero a blank stare and said, ¡°You thought I was asking Cathleen whether or not she was looking forward to fighting herself now that she recently leveled?¡± Nero returned the stare and said, ¡°Yes. I thought you were being metaphorical, and I didn¡¯t want to presume.¡± Cathleen chuckled, while Rose¡¯s water went down the wrong pipe. Rose started coughing, while holding back a laugh. Nick just shook his head in exasperation. He knew there was no point in trying to get Nero to admit anything. He said, ¡°Fine. Forget about it. Do you have something on your mind you want to talk about?¡± Nero took a sip of coffee, then said, ¡°Not really. Wait¡­ Did you ever figure out anything about my mental projection thing that I do when I meditate?¡± Nick shook his head, and said, ¡°Nope. I looked into it, but didn¡¯t find anything. I even checked the mage tower and referenced their archives. The closest thing I could find was a meditation technique for arch-mages to categorize their memories. When you¡¯re a thousand years old, there is a great deal of information they have to remember. In order to speed up their recall, they practice ¡®mental indexing¡¯ which sounds similar to what you¡¯re doing. However, I think your mental space is a byproduct of your overly-developed soul.¡± Nero asked, ¡°Because I¡¯m an old soul.¡± Nero smirked as if he just made a joke. Nick didn¡¯t seem to notice, and just nodded. ¡°Yes. Who knows how long you floated around the higher planes before you were pulled down. All that time would allow your soul to change in ways we can¡¯t predict, or even measure without some intensive scans. If you really care, we could hook you up to a ¡®delving sled¡¯ and see what we can find,¡± he said. Nero shook his head emphatically. ¡°No way. I don¡¯t really care, and it doesn¡¯t matter anyway. The whole thing makes leveling easier, so I¡¯m just going to say ¡®thank you¡¯ to the powers that be, and forget about it.¡± Shrugging, Nick returned to his meal. Cathleen stepped in to the conversation by saying, ¡°So Nero, are you looking forward to pushing your new ¡®body¡¯ stats?¡± Smiling, Nero said, ¡°Sure. I doubt it will make much of a difference, but it should be fun.¡± Rose asked, ¡°This wasn¡¯t your first body star was it? Why is everyone so fixated on this?¡± Nero shrugged, and replied, ¡°I think they just want to get my hopes up. That way they can enjoy watching me get pissed when I fail to see a substantial improvement.¡± Cathleen and Nick chuckled, while Rose looked confused. Nero felt bad for her. She didn¡¯t seem to understand their dynamic. It must look weird to see close friends excited to see one of their group get angry. Rather than explain it, he decided to change the subject. ¡°How do you like your training? You¡¯re doing archer stuff right?¡± he asked. Rose nodded, and said, ¡°Yes. The firing range here is amazing. I even got to shoot an essence bow. But it tired me out faster than I thought it would. I can¡¯t imagine how powerful people have to be in order to use them in the wilds. Normally I use ¡­¡± Nero interrupted. ¡°Hold on. What¡¯s an ¡®essence bow¡¯?¡± Rose raised an eyebrow in surprise, and said, ¡°Essence bows are enchanted bows that channel your center in order to create arrow constructs. They use the ambient essence to create solidified spell-forms. They can be incredibly powerful, but they require a lot of center. People are usually over level 50 before they get to use them.¡± Nero was intrigued. He hadn¡¯t really explored the crafting of this world, and this seemed like a good place to start. ¡°So someone created an identity for the bow, and then taught it how to make enchanted arrows?¡± he asked. Nick chose to answer the question. ¡°Kind of. I¡¯m guessing from your word choice, you don¡¯t really understand how enchanting works,¡± he said. Cathleen snorted a little laugh, as if Nick had just spouted a world-class understatement. Nero shot her a dirty look, then turned to Nick and said, ¡°I read a little about it. But I could use a quick summary of the subject.¡± Rose perked up, and added, ¡°I¡¯d like to hear about it too. All I know is what I¡¯ve heard, but I¡¯ve always wanted to know how it was actually done. I never got around to researching it.¡± Nick squared his shoulders, apparently happy with the opportunity to lecture. Nero prayed the summary would be brief, but didn¡¯t hold out much hope. Clearing his throat, Nick set down his silverware. Sounding like a professor, he said, ¡°Enchanting is a complex and intricate art which, at its core, is very personal. The overall goal is to imbue a purpose and history into a material object, with the intention being for that object to serve a specific purpose. To discuss the various methods of enchanting would require more time than we have available at the moment. However, we can touch on how enchantments work, what they actually are, and why they are so difficult. Please hold all questions until the end, as I will probably answer your questions during the lecture.¡± Nero groaned, this was his nightmare. He had always hated school, but never more than when he was interested in the subject. It always infuriated him how his teachers could take an interesting subject like ¡®how to make something blow up¡¯ and turn it into a boring lecture on chemistry. Instead of talking about the energy required to split covalent bonds, they should have just thrown some sodium into a bucket of water and enjoyed the show. While Rose and Cathleen listened to Nick droning on about ¡®essence manifolds¡¯ and ¡®pseudo-identities¡¯, Nero pretended to pay attention. He spent the rest of his breakfast mentally reviewing all the ways he knew how to cause an explosion. After he reached number 10, he realized that he might have an obsession with explosions that he hadn¡¯t been aware of. That, of course, caused Nero to think about all the things that he no longer cared about, but which he used to think were important. Memes, web-novels, tv-shows, fortnite, his x-box, John Wick, the Cubbies (Chicago¡¯s baseball team), various types of vapes, his bong, and the list went on. Nero was amazed at how much he had changed. None of those things seemed to matter anymore, and he wondered why he used to care so much. Luckily, Captain Angelton appeared at the entrance to the dining hall, and shouted, ¡°All right recruits, fall out to your training rings and get back to work!¡± Shaken out of his thoughts, Nero heard Nick say, ¡°We can discuss this more later if you¡¯d like. But that is generally why it requires essence crystals to aid in the enchantment process.¡± Rose and Cathleen were nodding, and Nero joined them. As all of them went to bus their dishes and head out to the training field, Nero said, ¡°Really interesting stuff Nick. You wouldn¡¯t happen to have a book that covered the subject from a beginner¡¯s perspective would you? I¡¯d like to review what you talked about. It was really fascinating.¡± Nick was all smiles and said, ¡°I actually wrote a book on the subject. It¡¯s a primer for learning enchanting. I called it ¡®Enchanting ¨C The how and why¡¯. I¡¯ll be sure to get you a copy.¡± Nero managed to hide his cringe while outwardly returning the smile. ¡°I¡¯m looking forward to it,¡± he said. ¡®Thank whatever gods they have here that I get to have Cathleen kill me in a few minutes. Otherwise, I¡¯d have to do it myself,¡¯ he thought to himself. Chapter 85 - You can get used to anything. Arch-mage Jennings was waiting at the teleportation hall. He hated waiting. He leaned against the wall, tapping his foot with impatience. Any minute now, the replacement for that idiot Cranston would be arriving, and he promised Mathers that he would show him around. Mentally, he felt around for the connection he had to the communication crystal in the Mage Tower in Hennings. It was still there, but no one seemed to be using it from the other side. Grimacing, Jennings realized that even THEY didn¡¯t want to watch him wait. He looked around the transportation room. The five technicians were fiddling with the receiving controls, isolating the local essence signatures and filtering out the interference. They must be preparing for receiving a targeting lock. It shouldn¡¯t be too much longer. Huffing in annoyance, he tried to distract himself by watching Nero train. Currently the young man was being choked out by that Averett woman. After admiring her technique for a few seconds, he mentally moved on. Jennings had subtly placed scry-markers on several people. It made paying attention to what was going on much easier than trying to isolate their essence signatures every time he wanted to look in on them. He cycled through his favorite subjects with a mental scrying window. The city-lord was currently arguing with that idiot Lord Bevin. The man was convinced that Dorchester would fall due to having a relative in Hennings that was an adherent to the Fateweavers. Apparently, his relative had secretly warned him that this beast wave would raze the city. Jennings snorted at the thought of those fools being proven wrong¡­ again. Moving on, he checked on the city-lord¡¯s children. The son was sitting in a carriage, far away from Dorchester. The idiot was currently arguing with his guard. The boy had no idea that the guard may be ordered to kill him if he didn¡¯t stop acting like a moron. His sister wasn¡¯t any better. She was currently yelling at a servant for not cleaning her bedroom properly. Shaking his head, Jennings realized the entire family needed a reality check. Mentally rebuking himself, he realized that the city-lord wasn¡¯t so bad. Her kids sucked though. The general was meeting with the city engineers. He was actually making some real progress on getting the essence cannons back on the walls. The man had impressed Jennings. There weren¡¯t many people who were capable of being sly while also being direct. Jennings reminded himself to pull some strings to help the general out a little. The trade commissioner was in a meeting about essence crystal pricing. The moron was recommending that they create a proposal for shipping out the reserves in order to sell them at the current high price, rather than wait for the influx of new crystals to depreciate the stocks. Jennings paused his viewing, and sent a ping to have the man¡¯s plan exposed to Lord Cosgrave. Since he had arrived, he had cultivated a few people who were in positions to deliver his warnings without them being traced back to him. It was always good policy to not get directly involved, that way people didn¡¯t expect him to help. As he pondered that bit of wisdom, he was shaken out of his introspection by the astra-platform activating. The essence in the room roiled and a young woman appeared on the well lit platform. He heard a technician call out, ¡°Transport successful. Confirmation of receipt sent to Hennings. Welcome to Dorchester.¡± The woman wore a gentle smile and stepped down from the platform. She looked over at the technicians and said, ¡°Thank you for the smooth transport. You¡¯re all a credit to your profession.¡± She walked across the room and presented herself with a bow to Jennings. ¡°Mage-adept Catherine Newbanks, reporting for duty as the new court mage. It¡¯s a pleasure to meet you sir.¡± Jennings didn¡¯t stand up from his leaning position on the wall. He looked at the whip-cord thin woman. She was an average height, with gentle features. Her pixie cut black hair complimented her large dark eyes. She wore a soft smile and seemed perfectly at ease with his obvious appraisal. He said, ¡°I thought that kid Paddington was being sent?¡± She replied easily, ¡°I challenged for the position this morning. I apologize for the delay. The new paperwork had to be filed for me to receive permission to teleport in his place.¡± Jennings chuckled at the gentle woman. He said, ¡°You took him to an arena? How did you get him to agree to the challenge?¡± Still smiling like a nun, she said, ¡°I told him that he was too pathetic for any position in Hennings, and they were just sending him here to die. He should just let me take his place, and he could go back to doing unimpressive research on whatever stupid idea he was currently working on. Paddington was offended, and challenged me to an honor challenge. I accepted, and then bet my yearly wage against this position. My words were proven true, as I defeated him easily. After he was resuscitated, he filed the paperwork for our change of position. Now I am here.¡± Jennings stood up from the wall and casually asked, ¡°You chose not to wager soul-death?¡± Mage-adept Newbanks shook her head gently, and said, ¡°I didn¡¯t want to kill him. Pathetic mages are still useful to the tower. I just wanted him to return to what he was good at. He wouldn¡¯t have liked it here anyway.¡± Nodding, Jennings said, ¡°Well, I think you¡¯ll love it here. Come along, we have a lot to see. I¡¯ll introduce you to some people, and tell you who is worth knowing. I plan to hand over all of the court mage responsibilities to you as soon as possible.¡± As they walked through the halls, she listened to the arch-mage as if he was the most interesting man in the world. Her subtle display of sucking-up wasn¡¯t lost on Jennings, and he found it charming. She asked, ¡°And if you don¡¯t mind me asking, what will you be doing sir?¡± Jennings didn¡¯t miss a beat and responded, ¡°Whatever the hell I feel like. Now let¡¯s first stop over at the local Mage Tower and get your identity filed as the new court mage.¡± This tale has been pilfered from Royal Road. If found on Amazon, kindly file a report. Mage-adept Newbanks didn¡¯t seem offended, and just nodded as if she weren¡¯t surprised at his response. Arch-mage Jennings decided at that moment, she was his new favorite person in Dorchester. He really liked it here. ----- Nero¡¯s day went exactly how he had expected it to. Cathleen didn¡¯t seem to notice his improved body stats at all. She spent both close-quarters combat, and weapons training tiring the medics by systematically destroying Nero. It didn¡¯t seem to matter how much he had improved, all he could do was get better at delaying the inevitable. His combat casting class with Specialist Howard didn¡¯t go much better. Nero noticed that his psychic field had improved a little, he thought it was due to his increased ¡®presence¡¯ stat. But it didn¡¯t make much difference in his training. He still spent the entire time dodging spells and now had the added task of trying to take control of the specialist¡¯s constructs. Every time Nero started to feel comfortable, Specialist Howard added something that resulted in a skewered Nero. The man even started varying the spells. The first time Nero felt a plasma burn, he screamed like a girl. Nick had found it so hilarious, that he had fallen out of his chair. Unsurprisingly, Nero had learned a great deal about healing over the past few days. He had watched the medics heal him whenever possible. Although he hadn¡¯t seen them cast ¡®resuscitate¡¯, he had seen them fix his limbs and organs¡­. a lot. In fact, he was pretty sure he could regrow a limb at this point. The spell-form was complicated, but Nero had seen it enough that he was confident that he wouldn¡¯t have any issues with it. When he asked to see the spell-form for ¡®resuscitate¡¯ in action, Specialist Howard had just laughed and said, ¡°You¡¯ll see it when you actually manage to kill someone.¡± Once again, Nick had laughed his ass off. Nero silently vowed to do just that. But regardless of Nero¡¯s resolve, Specialist Howard had learned his lesson, and now treated their exchanges like games of chess. Whatever Nero tried, the man countered it without any problems. No matter how dirty Nero played, nothing worked. As much as it annoyed Nero, the constant failures were enlightening. By the end of the day, Nero went to dinner without a shirt again. As usual, he only had rags for pants, and his boots were in pieces somewhere. By this point, the sight wasn¡¯t anything special, and none of the recruits batted an eye. Nero walked into the dining room with Nick. He was ignoring the man¡¯s recounting of his favorite ¡®Nero deaths of the day¡¯. Seeing his acquaintance Marie, he tossed her and her squad a wave. She waved her fork in acknowledgment and returned to the conversation at her table. Nick said, ¡°That¡¯s that group of monster-hunters you were talking about?¡± Nero nodded, and said, ¡°Yup. We usually spend the morning training together. We¡¯ve talked a few times after dinner, but you know how it is. There isn¡¯t a lot of time here for anything other than training.¡± Nick and Nero collected their food and joined Rose and Cathleen at their table. Cathleen looked at a bare-chested Nero and said, ¡°I see that your combat casting class didn¡¯t go any better than your physical combat classes.¡± Nick snorted, and said, ¡°I don¡¯t typically get to watch you training Nero, but if it¡¯s anything like what he just went through, I¡¯d might actually start feeling bad for him.¡± Nero was chewing on some vegetables and spoke with his mouth full. ¡°Bite me,¡± he said with some venom, although it came out as a mumble. Nick and Cathleen chuckled, but Rose didn¡¯t seem to find the situation funny. She was frowning and asked, ¡°How can you handle dying so much? Doesn¡¯t it get to you? I¡¯ve been resuscitated before, and the black void gave me nightmares.¡± Nero shrugged and said, ¡°I actually find it comfortable. It kind of feels familiar.¡± Nick piped up excitedly, ¡°It¡¯s probably due to -¡± Nero interrupted him, ¡°Stop, I don¡¯t want to hear it again. I know what you¡¯re going to say. It¡¯s because of my experience in the higher planes or whatever. While we¡¯re on the subject, I need a book on that too. I want to understand all those references you and Jennings keep making about the different planes. Like, what¡¯s the difference between the higher planes and the upper planes, or are they just different names for the same thing?¡± Surprisingly, it was Cathleen that answered him. ¡°The higher planes are no longer associated with the material realms. The upper planes are higher than ours, hence the name. They are where the gods reside.¡± Nick added, ¡°There is more there than the realms of the deities. There are other material planes, with different inhabitants. For example, the Fae realms are rather close to us if I remember correctly.¡± Rose chimed in, ¡°Don¡¯t forget about the lower planes. There are the different hells and purgatories, right?¡± Nick nodded, and said, ¡°Yes, there are just as many lower planes as there are upper planes. In many ways they are similar, but they are also drastically different. Souls traveling the lower planes typically don¡¯t join the cycle of reincarnation. Some do, but usually they are ripped apart by the denizens of the hells.¡± Nero was shocked. It was odd to hear people speak so matter-of-factly about life after death. He had known that they had studied it extensively, but it was still difficult to accept. Nero had to remind himself that this was a fantasy world. ¡®Don¡¯t let the steak and potatoes fool you. You are in a place with magic and elves. This probably isn¡¯t even cow,¡¯ he thought to himself as he stared at the piece of meat on the end of his fork. Trying to focus on the conversation, Nero asked, ¡°And what about the higher planes, what are those?¡± Nick said, ¡°They are planes of existence that are purely ethereal. They butt up against all of the material planes. They act as a buffer between us and the void. You must have crossed them when you came from wherever you were. It is there that the souls are wiped clean and reintroduced to the material planes. They are difficult for us to view, but they CAN be studied. Several thousand years ago, Arch-mage Devon succeeded in his efforts to track the soul of his late wife through the cycle of reincarnation. It took 50 years, but he found her in a small boy on another continent. He couldn¡¯t travel there, but he spent the rest of his life watching the boy grow up. It was a sad, but interesting, paper.¡± Cathleen said, ¡°My mother read it to me when I was a child. I liked to think that someone was watching me train, hoping for me to be a great warrior like my previous incarnation. My mother was kind enough to leave me with that delusion.¡± Rose and Nick smiled at the ¡®cute¡¯ story. Nero however was flabbergasted. He dropped his fork onto his plate and said, ¡°Your mother read you a research paper as a bed-time story?¡± Everyone looked at Nero like he had just asked why water was wet. Nick said, ¡°What else was she going to read her? Children don¡¯t have enough knowledge to understand anything more complicated.¡± Nero asked, ¡°What about something that isn¡¯t non-fiction? Something with a moral lesson or whatever.¡± Confused looks were exchanged among the three of his dinner companions. Rose asked, ¡°That word you used, ¡®non-fiction¡¯. Doesn¡¯t that just mean ¡®true¡¯? And wouldn¡¯t moral lessons have more of an impact if there were real examples given?¡± Nick responded, ¡°I think what he meant was...¡± Nero shook his head in defeat and stopped listening. There was no point arguing with crazy people who believed in logic. He returned to his meal and remembered a time where people chose to believe in whatever made them happy. It was a great time to be alive, the arguments were so much fun. Chapter 86 - No one wants to play with me. General Branson frowned at the projections floating above his desk. Tapping his fingers on his armrests, he mentally cycled through the reports his office had been receiving all week. Instances of increased activity were reported at every gate. Even here at central command, in the inner ring of the city, there was a noticeable increase in issues needing to be addressed. Sighing, he sent his approval for two squads to enter the sewers below the keep. He hoped that the slime queen hadn¡¯t migrated to the inner ring, but all the evidence seemed to support that theory. The last thing he needed were slimes crawling out of sewer grates and assaulting nobles in the streets. Putting the slime issue aside for the moment, he reviewed the current population numbers. Two whole villages had been abandoned, and the survivors were now here in Dorchester, looking for sanctuary. The general had expected this, but not this soon. It had only been a week, and already the city gained almost 10,000 citizens. Maximum capacity was only 3 million if they didn¡¯t reopen the mountain. But, who knows how many people are already on the way here? He had asked the mages to keep an eye on the roads, but all he got in return was a report on ¡®increased migration from areas affected by the level shift¡¯. The report had no hard numbers, and no one had felt comfortable even offering an estimate. He¡¯d have to plan for the worst case scenario. With a grimace on his face, he sent a request for Gate 22 army command to come up with a plan for reopening the mountain. Cycling through the reports, he didn¡¯t see a single area that wasn¡¯t dealing with problems. The forests to the east were filled with monsters and beasts. The plains to the south had beast hordes ravaging the land. The northern mountains were teaming with monsters fleeing their caves. Even the western steppes were reporting bogs replacing the patches of forests. The entire landscape outside the walls was changing, and quickly at that. He already had half his men patrolling the roads, while everyone else was either training or trying to thin out the threats. Clenching his fist in anger, all he could do was offer support. It had been years since he had felt this powerless. He opened the projections that Center-Research had sent over. All of their estimations were based on limited data. The essence had only started the density shift a little over a week ago, but they tried to do what he asked. He told them that he needed to know what to expect, and they did their best. The report they sent over had timeline estimations for density thresholds. It looked like Dorchester had a few more weeks of relative peace before things really started getting out of hand. In anywhere from three to six months, his men could be fighting at the walls. Rubbing his head with his hands, he groaned at the implications. Hopefully this was all just pessimism. Either way, he would do his job, and save as many as he could. ----- Nero spent day 9 of training doing what he did best: annoying his trainer partners. His personal goal was to make them mad enough to stop holding back. He only had two days of training left, and he felt the pressure building. With limited time, he needed to get the most out of each training block. Captain Angelton was the first to suffer during the morning exercises. Nero had made it a point to ask the man things like ¡°How was that?¡±, and, ¡°Am I doing this right?¡± every 2 minutes. At one point the man had tried to stop answering him, so Nero started yelling his questions, then asking ¡°Can you hear me? Sir are you alright?¡±. When the captain finally snapped, Nero feigned shock and replied, ¡°Sorry sir, I was just trying to do my best. I¡¯ll try and take it easy on the next few exercises.¡± The captain¡¯s red face was too much, and Nero laughed his ass off while running away. It didn¡¯t surprise Nero that Cathleen hadn¡¯t needed much prodding. After only a few sarcastic questions about why she braided her hair the way she did, the woman was positively brutal with her attacks. A blood covered Nero emerged from training ring 3 after she finished with him. Specialist Howard was a little harder to rile up. Yet, Nero persevered until he saw the man¡¯s forehead develop a pulsing vein. Even from across the room, Nero felt like he could hear the specialist grinding his teeth in annoyance. Smiling, Nero focused and tried to survive the man¡¯s wrath. Even though Nero didn¡¯t, the medics were nice enough to keep giving him chances to try. By the end of the day, Nero felt physically destroyed, yet spiritually renewed. There was just something about getting under people¡¯s skin that made him feel complete. Plopping into his seat in the dining hall, he greeted his squad-mates. ¡°Hey girls, how was your day?¡± he asked. Rose raised her eyes in surprise at his good mood. Cathleen just grunted and didn¡¯t look up from her meal. However, Nick said, ¡°I¡¯m here too Nero.¡± Nero offered him a wide smile and replied, ¡°Yeah, I saw you. You look very pretty today.¡± Nick just smirked and shook his head, then returned to his meal. Nero saw them all sitting in silence, eating their meals mechanically. The fact that no one wanted to trade barbs with him was destroying his good mood. As he started eating, he said, ¡°OK. I get it. You¡¯re all mad at me. I¡¯m not saying you are wrong to be angry, but I respectfully would like to offer an alternative opinion. Is it possible that you all just need to lighten up a bit?¡± Harsh stares snapped to Nero, and he felt a slight shiver. Holding up his hands in surrender, he said, ¡°Look, I¡¯m just saying that psychological warfare is a completely viable tactical option. It¡¯s also funny. I don¡¯t mind when you are calling me ¡®little lord¡¯ and mocking my continued failures. We only have one day of training left, and I wanted to make sure that everyone was giving 100% effort.¡± Smiling, he attacked his meal with gusto. His squad-mates shared a look, and Nick said, ¡°Nero, if you¡¯re worried about what¡¯s going to happen in the wilds, we understand. Fear of what we will face is perfectly reasonable. There¡¯s no need to lash out. But if you feel like you have to, we¡¯ll still be here for you.¡± Nero¡¯s fork paused in front of his mouth. He looked around at the kind and understanding faces, even Cathleen looked like she was forgiving him. He dropped his fork to his plate and leaned back with a sigh. All he wanted was for some good natured ribbing. It had nothing to do with fear or any other psychological issue. The LAST thing he wanted was for this dinner to turn into a therapy session. If you come across this story on Amazon, be aware that it has been stolen from Royal Road. Please report it. He squinted in anger and said, ¡°Listen closely. I am not afraid of the wilds. I am fully aware of what we will face, and I am looking forward to it. My actions today were not ¡®lashing out¡¯. I didn¡¯t try to piss you all off as a ¡®cry for attention¡¯. The simple fact of the matter is that I wanted everyone to get a fire in their belly. People perform better when they are pushing themselves. Anger clouds judgment and focuses the mind. Your kindness and understanding are unnecessary, and I recommend that you all grow a pair. The beasts and monsters will not care if you are emotionally well adjusted.¡± Cathleen started laughing, while Nick looked offended. Rose just looked confused and said, ¡°What do you mean ¡®grow a pair¡¯, it sounded like you were meaning to say ¡®be fearless¡¯. I don¡¯t get it.¡± Nero looked around the table, shocked at what they all took away from what he just said. Nick looked like he was offended Nero didn¡¯t want to talk about his feelings. Cathleen looked like she was proud of his dedication to battle. Yet it was Rose¡¯s confusion that irked Nero the most. He wasn¡¯t specifically trying to offend the women or anything, but the fact that he hadn¡¯t been lambasted for his obviously chauvinistic remark was jarring. The fact that gender-inequality wasn¡¯t a thing in this world was just too weird for Nero to handle. Cathleen broke Nero from his internal musings. ¡°I agree wholeheartedly. The wilds aren¡¯t for the weak. We will harden our wills, silence our feelings, and face the horrors with hate in our hearts. Rest assured, tomorrow I will push you to your limits. You will not be coddled by me. I will make sure you get the most out of your time here,¡± she said with steel in her voice. Nick snorted as he stabbed his dinner. ¡°I think you are both taking all this too seriously. Constant, tempered effort will produce the best results. It will just take time. And for the record, I think you are just worried about what will happen. But I recognize that you aren¡¯t ready to hear that, so I¡¯ll not say anything more,¡± he said as if he were talking to an unruly child. Rose piped up, ¡°I still want to know what ¡®grow a pair¡¯ means. Is is some type of saying from where you come from? I¡¯m guessing it¡¯s a pair of horns.¡± Nero cocked his head in confusion and couldn¡¯t help but ask, ¡°Horns?¡± Rose said, ¡°Yeah. Is it a reference to animals that grow horns when they reach adulthood? You know, babies just have the little nubs. But when they grow up and have to face the perils of adulthood, they grow horns to face the challenge head on.¡± By the time she finished talking, she looked very proud of her theory. Nero just stared at her. It was ridiculous how much sense that made. In fact, it made a lot more sense than saying people needed a pair of testicles to be brave. Instead of correcting her, he internally admitted defeat, and said, ¡°Yup. That¡¯s exactly where it comes from.¡± Rose nodded with a smile on her face, proud that she had figured it out. Nick looked interested in the subject and started listing off the different types of animals that grew horns during their adolescence. Cathleen just smiled and attacked her food with vigor. Nero was still leaning back in his chair. He felt like the fight had gone out of him. There was no joy in picking on puppies. He needed to shake it off and focus on the upcoming expedition. Sitting up, he returned to his meal while trying to force himself to participate in their polite dinner conversation. Eventually dinner ended, and Nero found himself back in his room after another annoying group shower. As usual, everyone had treated it as completely normal, and he had even felt himself starting to ignore all the naked people. If he were being honest with himself, the fact that he was adapting to the new social norms was terrifying. Would he be an emotionally healthy robot in 10 years? It¡¯s only been a couple weeks, and he had already changed so much. Sitting at his desk, Nero pushed the worries to the back of his mind. There was no point in worrying about it. Just because everyone else was crazy, didn¡¯t mean he was going to be. It¡¯s not like ¡®new-age-wisdom¡¯ was contagious. He just had to stay true to himself, and continue being considerate to their alternative lifestyles. He¡¯d done it before. One of his old girlfriends was a vegan. That was weird, but he had never made a fuss about it. Smiling at his internal decision to be the better man, he went into his personal dimension for the book of the day. Searching, he found a large leather book about essence vortices. Nero knew that dungeons, spawn points, planar gates, and other things all fell into the category of ¡®essence vortices¡¯. It seemed like an appropriate subject to study before he went into the wilds. In fact, he was surprised that no one had brought it up during training. If he remembered correctly, General Branson¡¯s primary reason for creating this unit was to fix those vortices in order to slow down the density shift. Opening the book, Nero sipped his coffee and looked over the introduction. It basically said what he already knew. Occasionally, essence would pool in certain areas, and the interactions in the ethereal plane would reach a critical mass causing a manifestation in the material world. Spawn points for animals could be corrupted into monster-spawners by merging with a planar shift. It wasn¡¯t uncommon, or even that big a deal. Nero flipped through the pages, and read about monster spawn points. There were charts and diagrams showing how the different planes could send information to corrupt local animals. It was all very interesting, but Nero didn¡¯t really care about the ¡®how¡¯ or ¡®why¡¯. He was more interested in what to do about it. After taking a sip of his coffee, he checked the index of the book. Finding a chapter called, ¡®Returning the local essence to balance¡¯, Nero flipped through the pages with a smile. As he read, Nero tried to filter out all the scientific mumbo-jumbo and translate what it was saying into something useful. The chapter assumed a lot of knowledge on the part of the reader, and Nero had some trouble figuring out what it was trying to say. From what he could tell, the most important thing to consider was whether or not anything should be done at all. For example, when faced with a monster-spawner, the question is whether or not it serves the greater good to untangle the essence-knot and return the area to its original design. Nero ended up reading the entire chapter, and all he took away from it was that before taking action, hunters should speak with the local Hunter¡¯s Hall in order to find out whether or not they should do anything. Annoyed, Nero slammed the book shut. Mentally checking the time, he realized he just wasted an hour. As his mood was already sour due to the fact that no one seemed to want to argue with him today, Nero wanted to spread the pain. He felt the need to bother someone. Opening his link, he sent out a connection request. The connection was immediately accepted and he heard Jennings say, ¡°What¡¯s wrong now?¡± The old man¡¯s annoyance was broadcasting over the link without any issue. Nero smiled and said, ¡°Don¡¯t pretend you¡¯re doing anything important. I have questions about essence vortices, and the book you gave me is useless. Get your ass over here, and don¡¯t forget to bring something to drink. You can tell me all about a subject you know tons about. Think about it. It¡¯s win-win. You¡¯ll feel really smart doing it, while I get to enjoy learning something useful. I don¡¯t want to have to ask Nick. He¡¯ll just turn it into a boring lecture on the history of essence studies or something.¡± The connection closed abruptly, and Nero¡¯s eyes widened a little in shock. Sitting at his desk, Nero wondered if he had offended the crazy old arch-mage. Seconds later, a bright gold flash happened above his bed, and Jennings fell into a comfortable sitting position. He waved his hand and a bottle with two cups appeared. Offering Nero a smile, he said, ¡°I was just finishing a stupid meeting anyway. This seems like it will be more fun. What do you want to know.¡± Nero smiled at the man¡¯s enthusiasm. It was like when Nero used to call his married friends and tell them to come over to play x-box, they were so excited that Nero couldn¡¯t help but find it adorable. Waving his hand, Nero mentally grabbed the full glass Jennings was holding out to him. After bringing it over to his hand, Nero offered a toast and said, ¡°To a night of drinking, and talking about magic!¡± Jennings¡¯ smile was wide as he raised his glass, seemingly familiar with the concept of a toast. ¡°Hear! Hear!¡± he added. Chapter 87 - The proper way to teach a class. Arch-mage Jennings was bored. The petty arguments he was hearing were nothing new to him. Over his nearly 1000 years of life, he had heard all of this before. Looking around the room, he saw the same archetypes wearing different faces. The large Hall of Leadership was familiar in its own way. No matter how different, and seemingly ¡®original¡¯, someone designed a conference room, they always looked the same. A bunch of people with a great deal of power sitting around in a circle¡­ arguing. The upper ring was filled with citizens of importance, hoping to join those currently in the center ring. Everyone always wanted to be a noble, until they were put in charge of something. Then they would start complaining and pointing fingers. It was never THEIR fault, it was their political enemies. THEY were the ones who were responsible. Snorting at his inner thoughts, he glanced at the current city-lord, Lord Cosgrave. She was the typical political powerhouse, spending all her time putting out fires and managing perceptions. He knew that she was effective, disturbingly so, but he couldn¡¯t help but find her political maneuvers annoying. Yet, he knew that he only felt that way because he could never do what she did. Her machinations held her city together, and corralled the nobles into doing what was needed. He both admired her and didn¡¯t want to be around her. It was a familiar feeling that he always felt around people particularly skilled in politics. He turned his attention to her current political opponent, the one who had demanded this full meeting of the council. The idiot was still shouting about Dorchester¡¯s eminent destruction, citing those fate weaving morons as his source of prophecy. Jennings wasn¡¯t surprised by the support the man had received by making that declaration. He, and his supporters, were all the same type of coward that Jennings had seen a thousand times before. Lord Bevin stood tall, pounding his fist as he shouted, ¡°The signs are all around us. It¡¯s obvious to everyone with a mind stat over 20 that the fate-weavers are right. Dorchester will fall, and we have to prepare for that eventuality. Wasting resources on a doomed city is just hubris. You must declare an evacuation. There is precedent for Oglivarch to cover our losses, it is our duty to make that cost as reasonable as possible. The earlier we evacuate, the more we can save!¡± Shouts of agreement rang out, some even from the upper ring. Jennings smirked, as cowards always spouted nonsense about how they were avoiding the fight because of some reason or another. Although, he did like the idea of blaming it on fiscal responsibility, it¡¯s been a while since he had heard that one. Lord Cosgrave remained seated, and knocked her knuckles loudly on the table to bring order to the proceedings. Her voice was grave as she said, ¡°I hear what you are saying Lord Bevin, and I understand your concerns. However, the law is clear. Dorchester is our responsibility until we can no longer hold it. If an evacuation is necessary, then it will come after we have exhausted all other options. We are citizens of Oglivarch, and we will not shirk from our duty.¡± Cheers met her declaration, and Lord Bevin and his cronies grimaced. As he was about to speak, General Branson stepped into center platform from the second ring. Jennings raised an eyebrow. ¡®That¡¯s not part of the script. What does he have to say?¡¯ he wondered. The general¡¯s blue tabard was pristine, the gold inlays accentuating his dark silver chain-mail beautifully. He strode forward like he was marching to battle. He stood at the edge of the platform, so he could address every noble in the inner ring. Without waiting to be recognized, he spoke with an essence infused voice, forcing everyone to hear what he had to say. ¡°I¡¯ve heard plenty of excuses during my many years of service. Soldiers saying that there was no point in patrolling a forest no one goes into, or complaints about manning a wall that was never under attack. It comes down to what kind of soldier you want to be. Do you stand by the oaths you swore, or are you only ready to serve when that service isn¡¯t required. You are the council of leadership for Dorchester. You all swore oaths to protect this city. If you want to run, I won¡¯t stop you. But if you think I¡¯ll let you handicap my efforts to defend these walls, then you are sorely mistaken.¡± The general stood with his chin jutted forward, daring anyone to challenge him. Jennings smiled at the delightful surprise. It was rare to see a general who hadn¡¯t been browbeaten by the nobles into becoming a political tool. He usually only saw that in more martial cities, like in the North, or along the borders. In fact, this seemed very out of character for the man. Jennings squinted in thought. He wondered what prompted the general to make such a stand. His eyes darted to the small table for the new Lord Walker. Vera Salvatore-Verena stood up. Her gray robes declaring her neutral stance, as House Walker hadn¡¯t yet chosen any house colors. Jennings leaned forward in his seat, excited to see what she had to say. Facing the general with her hands crossed in front of her waist, Vera looked like the picture of nobility. Her calm voice carried a hint of essence so everyone could easily hear what she had to say. ¡°General Branson, House Walker is with you. We recognize your determination to save this city from the coming peril. With your help, Dorchester will weather this storm and emerge the stronger for it,¡± she said, then turned to face Lord Bevin, ¡°If Lord Bevin wishes to flee with his riches, then he need not hide behind precedent. House Walker is willing to buy out his manufacturing concerns to allow his house to leave Dorchester without having to doom the city. We will pay half the current market value, as that is what he¡¯d receive from Oglivarch if an evacuation were ordered. What say you Lord Bevin?¡± Jennings was trying to contain his laughter. He really did like that woman. She reminded him of a powerful sorceress he had met in the White City, several hundred years ago on the coast of Mayborn. While he was trying to remember the woman¡¯s name, his thoughts were scattered by Lord Bevin. ¡°If you want to stay in this doomed city, then fine! House Bevin accepts your offer, I¡¯ll do an accounting and have it sent over to you before morning!¡± He nearly spat out the words, as if it was a threat. Lord Cosgrave stepped in and said, ¡°The Tower of Law will do the appraisal Lord Bevin. I¡¯m sure you have some packing to do.¡± Looking around at the other nobles, she said, ¡°Would anyone else like to liquidate their assets and run away? This is probably the best deal you will get. If you plan on leaving, I¡¯d speak up now as this is likely to be your last chance before we declare a siege.¡± There was some grumbling, but Jennings hadn¡¯t taken his eyes off Vera. She looked like she had just found the last piece of a puzzle under a desk. ¡®What is she up to?¡¯ He wondered. Lord Bevin stormed out of the council hall, and Lord Cosgrave went about closing the meeting. While the meeting was breaking up, he was surrounded by nobles asking his opinion. Looking around, he saw Mage-adept Newling was surrounded as well. It was too bad he couldn¡¯t pawn these morons off on her. Forcing himself to project the image of a dignified arch-mage, he tried to calmly answer their questions. Help support creative writers by finding and reading their stories on the original site. Receiving a ping from Nero, he maintained his calm exterior as he split his mind to open a connection, ¡°What¡¯s wrong now?¡± he asked. ----- Nero sipped his whiskey, or something that was close enough to whiskey, then sighed in contentment. This was just what he needed after a day of dealing with people who belonged in the human resources department. He looked over at Jennings. The man was propped up on Nero¡¯s bed, smiling and smelling his whiskey. It looked like the man needed this as much as he did. ¡°Long day?¡± Nero asked. With a smirk on his face, Jennings said, ¡°Did you know that you just bought out several manufacturing concerns? At least Vera got you a good deal.¡± Nero shrugged, the last thing on his mind was money. That was the entire reason he put Vera in charge of House Walker. He said, ¡°I¡¯m sure she knows what she¡¯s doing. I¡¯ll bet you a hundred valens that she has a convoluted plan to¡­. Never mind, I just figured out what she¡¯s doing. They are a bunch of general manufacturing concerns aren¡¯t they? Maybe some blacksmiths or fabrication shops?¡± Jennings raised his eyebrows in shock, lowering his glass to stare at Nero. ¡°How in the hells did you know that? What¡¯s she going to do with them?¡± he asked, genuinely curious. Shrugging, Nero took another sip and propped his legs up onto the edge of the bed, while still sitting in his desk chair. Offering a smirk, he said, ¡°Trade secret, my man. You¡¯ll just have to wait a bit. I¡¯m sure you¡¯ll figure it out soon enough.¡± Jennings chuckled, but let it go. ¡°So what did you want to talk about?¡± he asked. Nero pulled his legs off the bed, and leaned forward in interest. ¡°Right!¡± he said. Reaching behind him, he grabbed the book on essence vortices and tossed it over to Jennings. The man caught the book with his mind, then set it off to the side. ¡°I know what you were reading. Just ask your questions,¡± said Jennings while smiling slyly. Nero snorted, and said, ¡°Stop being so dramatic. I wanted to know how to close dungeons and other things like that. We¡¯re going to be heading out into the wilds soon, and I need to know how to deal with what¡¯s out there.¡± Jennings gave Nero a look like he was an idiot. ¡°Why do you have to know anything about that? You¡¯re not going to be doing any of that. It¡¯s not your responsibility. As a matter-of-fact, it¡¯s not even your call whether or not the essence knots need to be unraveled.¡± Not backing down, Nero said, ¡°Let¡¯s call it a hunch. I¡¯m betting something annoying is going to happen that separates me from my group along with the main force. Then I¡¯m going to have to perform some heroics, save some people, resolve some interpersonal issues among squad-mates or hunters that I run into, then I¡¯ll have to close a dungeon or planar gate in order to avert a disaster.¡± Jennings leaned forward off the wall, and sat cross-legged on the bed. With wide eyes, he hurriedly asked, ¡°Have you seen this? Do you have predictive sight? Was it a vision? How do you know what will happen?¡± It was Nero¡¯s turn to look at Jennings like the man was an idiot. ¡°Isn¡¯t that what always happens in situations like this? I¡¯d say that I¡¯m not psychic, but that doesn¡¯t mean what it used to mean. But rest assured, I don¡¯t have ¡®predictive sight¡¯. I just recognize logical patterns. Now tell me how to close a portal or whatever,¡± demanded Nero. Jennings squinted at Nero, as if he wasn¡¯t sure what to believe. Visibly shaking his head to clear the question from his mind, he said, ¡°It¡¯s actually pretty simple, but difficult to accomplish. You have to approach the essence knot. For all intents and purposes they are all the same. The scale is just different. Spawn points tend to be tiny, so you might be able to untie one of them. Never untie a dungeon or planar gate.¡± As he said that, he gave Nero a hard stare in order to emphasize that what he had just said was an absolute. Nero asked, ¡°Why not?¡± Jennings said, ¡°Several reasons. One, because people might be on the other side. Two, because they can be incredibly beneficial to a city¡¯s economy. Three, and this is the most important point, they actually serve to stabilize an area¡¯s essence signature. Granted, during a time of transition like this, they are very dangerous. But in the long run, they will be needed.¡± Nero said, ¡°All right, but spawners need to be shut down right?¡± Jennings nodded, and said, ¡°Oh yes. Especially now, during a density shift. After things stabilize, there will probably be a ton of them needed in order to maintain the essence flow around Dorchester. But now they are acting as a trap for the essence flows. General Branson was smart when he reinstated the elite hunters. For the next few months, every spawn point will need to be untied so that the essence can get to the nascent proto-dungeons in order to bleed off some of the potential. It will serve to slow down the city¡¯s level shift, buying time for preparations and allowing the outlying villages and towns to evacuate into Dorchester.¡± Nero tried to conceptualize what Jennings was trying to say, and he sort of understood what the man was getting at. He said, ¡°It¡¯s like making sure the hose isn¡¯t kinked when filling a pool.¡± Nero nodded at his brilliant metaphor. Jennings cocked his head in confusion, and said, ¡°It¡¯s nothing like that. Using your analogy, the pool is going to be filled anyway, all you¡¯re doing is poking holes in the hose so that it takes longer. The dungeons are the holes, and the spawn points are acting as patches, covering the leaks.¡± Nero nodded, and said, ¡°Yeah, exactly what I meant. I knew you¡¯d understand what I was trying to say.¡± He pointed at his head, then pointed at Jennings, indicating that they were on the same mental wavelength. ¡°You get me,¡± he said. Jennings chuckled and said, ¡°Well when you find a spawn point, just focus on trying to untangle the essence streams. It shouldn¡¯t be that difficult. The hard part will be getting close enough. Spawn points are typically swarmed by whatever they are spawning.¡± Nero said, ¡°That¡¯s incredibly vague, but I guess I¡¯ll just have to wait and see what you mean.¡± Nodding, Jennings said, ¡°I¡¯m sure you¡¯ll do fine, but I don¡¯t think you¡¯ll have to do it yourself. Your unit will have plenty of people with experience in shutting down spawners. Now, is there anything else you¡¯d like to talk about? I really should get going, I have other things to do.¡± Nero smiled and propped his feet back up the bed, and said, ¡°Oh¡­ just one or two things I was wondering about. Shouldn¡¯t take too long. Pour yourself another drink, you¡¯ve got time.¡± Jennings shook his head at Nero¡¯s antics, but leaned back and decided to humor the amusing young man. ¡°OK, so what do you want to know?¡± Nero smirked and said, ¡°Let¡¯s start with how to maintain communications while in the field. I¡¯ve heard that¡¯s important.¡± Jennings shrugged, and said, ¡°Sure, if you say so.¡± For the rest of the evening, Nero took advantage of the old man¡¯s wisdom. He couldn¡¯t believe how useful it was to have someone who actually ANSWERED the questions he asked. Nero had become used to being told that in order to receive an answer, he¡¯d have to sit through all the related material. Jennings however, didn¡¯t seem to care. The wonderful man just answered what was asked, and enjoyed watching Nero try and figure out the details. After several glasses of whiskey, Nero was feeling a little tipsy. He held up his glass and said, ¡°I think this is the beginning of a beautiful friendship.¡± Jennings looked confused and asked, ¡°What in the hells are you talking about?¡± Nero frowned. Realizing that Jennings was never going to get the reference, he said, ¡°Don¡¯t worry about it. I¡¯d rather hear about what that Mathers guy said when he found out you were the one who kept stealing his coffee.¡± Chuckling, Jennings said, ¡°Oh! Well, that¡¯s a good one¡­.¡± Chapter 88 - The sub-standard pep-talk. Mike was checking his supplies in their common room when Heather burst through the door. Startled, he spun around and dropped into a combat stance, as a pair of knives appeared in his hands. Recognizing his teammate, he rose from his crouch and frowned. He was about to berate her for barging in like a lunatic, when she held up a folded map. With a wide smile on her face, she said, ¡°Our friend¡¯s contact came through. We have the route they¡¯re going to take into the wilds.¡± Reaching out to take the map, Mike shouted over his shoulder, ¡°Hey Jerry, get your ass in here!¡± Coming out of his room, Jerry looked at the happy rogue and archer. ¡°What¡¯s got you both so excited?¡± Mike was looking over the map, while Heather was smiling like a maniac. Raising his head Mike said, ¡°We¡¯ve got the route. Now all we need to do is choose where to set the trap.¡± Scratching the back of his neck, Jerry said, ¡°We still need a plan for separating him from his protectors. I think you two might be underestimating the difficulty a bit. There are going to be a lot of things we have to get right before we get paid.¡± Heather waved a dismissive hand, and said, ¡°The fixer already thought of all that. He¡¯s given us the route, and how the teams are going to be deployed. There will be five 5-man teams, along with one 5-man command team.¡± Mike spoke up as he was reading the map, and flipping through some hand written pages. ¡°Everything is here. How the hell did he get this? We¡¯ve got a basic rundown on every recruit and trainer, along with the deployment schedule. He even provided a recommendation of where we should hit them,¡± he said in a voice filled with wonder while he looked through what Heather had given him. Heather looked proud, and placed her hands on her hips. She said, ¡°Who cares where he got it. He¡¯s probably got a contact in the training facility, or maybe Gate 15 army command. Either way, it doesn¡¯t really matter. He¡¯s even hinted at a possible mage being available for scrying. If we can get real-time tracking, we¡¯ll know exactly when to strike.¡± Mike frowned as he noticed something, and Jerry immediately asked, ¡°What¡¯s wrong? You see a problem.¡± Staying silent, Mike seemed to be trying to decide whether or not there was an issue. He eventually looked up and asked Heather, ¡°Can you take out a skilled mage along with a northern warrior before they put up their defenses?¡± Scratching her chin in thought, she asked, ¡°How good is the mage?¡± Mike replied, ¡°It says here that he was Centerpoint trained, but has been working as researcher for like 70 years. He¡¯s probably around level 50, so he might have dual pillars.¡± Heather said, ¡°That Lord Salvatore or whatever? We¡¯re sure he¡¯s going to be there?¡± Mike nodded and said, ¡°I can take out their team leader, and Jerry can take out their archer while he casts his illusion, but this will only work if you can take out the mage and the bodyguard simultaneously.¡± The group stood in silence as they thought through the problem. After a minute, Jerry said, ¡°Tell me about the archer.¡± Mike checked the dossier, and smiled. ¡°Never mind. Heather, you only have to worry about the mage. Jerry can take out the bodyguard. We can deal with the archer and the little lord after their protection is dead. The archer isn¡¯t even level 10.¡± Heather laughed, and said, ¡°Seriously? Then yeah, no problem. I can snipe him without him even seeing me. My ¡®disruptive shot¡¯ shouldn¡¯t have a problem getting through his essence shield. But we¡¯ll have to be coordinated. I guess that¡¯s why the fixer reminded me to bring communication crystals for everybody.¡± Jerry said, ¡°I¡¯ve got some. I even know how to tune them for direct communication. They won¡¯t sense us talking. But we¡¯ll have to silence the connection to our tracking mage when they get close. Salvatore might sense it if we leave it open.¡± Turning to look at Heather, he asked, ¡°Are you sure you want the mage? The illusion will be up, so I can take care of him easily.¡± Heather took a moment to think, then replied, ¡°All right. If you¡¯re confident in taking out the mage, then I can take care of the bodyguard. Mike can handle their team leader. We just need to time it correctly.¡± Mike nodded with determination. ¡°Sounds like we have a plan. After they''re dead, we strip them and dump them near the closest spawn point. Whatever is there will clean up after us, and we¡¯ll be in the wind.¡± Folding the map, he sent it into his personal space, and said, ¡°Get your gear together, we head out tonight. Our target will be there in three days, and I want us to be waiting for him. Remember to pack some gear that won¡¯t identify you, along with some masks. Who knows who will be watching. Hopefully, no one other than our friend¡¯s mage will be scrying the area, but we shouldn¡¯t take the risk.¡± Heather and Jerry nodded in agreement, then split off to finish packing. Mike stared down at the table, looking over his gear. This was a big pay-day, and he needed it to go perfectly. Yet, in the back of his mind, Mike couldn¡¯t help but worry. How the hell did the fixer get all this information? Did he arrange for the target to have a weakened team? How much did he spend to get a mage from the tower involved? And, if the hit was so easy, why did it pay so much? The amount of money the fixer was spending on this assassination was ridiculous. Clapping his hands to break out of his nervousness, Mike started putting his gear into his personal space. He wasn¡¯t going to find any answers, so it was best not to think about it. ----- Nero¡¯s final day of training went quickly, and the butterflies in his gut got worse with every passing hour. He kept thinking, ¡°This time tomorrow, I¡¯ll be out in a forest filled with monsters.¡± Throwing himself into his training didn¡¯t help as much as he hoped it would. Nevertheless, Nero did his best to push his worries to the back of his mind, and focus on improving as much as possible. After all, each day of training equated to weeks of effort back in his old world, and he knew that he would be a fool not to take advantage of every moment. Support creative writers by reading their stories on Royal Road, not stolen versions. But all good things eventually come to an end, and Nero found himself standing at attention with the rest of the recruits, waiting for Captain Angleton to address them. There, in front of the two lines of recruits, The Captain looked like the prototypical soldier, the one from which all other soldiers were based off of. He was massive. His tight blue linen shirt was struggling to contain his shoulders. Nero didn¡¯t know if they had irons, or if it was because of some spell, but the captain even had crisp creases running vertically along his pant¡¯s legs. The man stood at parade rest, and looked over his trainees like a judge about to render a verdict. ¡°Some of you haven¡¯t been here a full week. But while you were here, you worked hard enough to make up for it. I¡¯m proud of every one of you. You are among the best that Dorchester has to offer,¡± he said. The captain started pacing along the front of the lines, while his strong voice made sure everyone heard what he had to say. ¡°Tomorrow, we deploy for the East wilds. You will each serve under the trainer who was in charge of your squad. They will be your sergeant, and you will follow their orders. Many of you have been hunters for years, but that does not mean you have nothing more to learn. This will be our unit¡¯s first foray into harms way, and I want every one of you to survive and grow from the experience. Everyone who completes our first excursion will be known as an ¡®Elite Hunter¡¯ upon our return.¡± He paused, then turned to face them with his hands on his hips. He looked over the eager recruits and said, ¡°One year of service. That¡¯s what you promised when you agreed to sign on. And if you survive, forever after you will be an ¡®Elite¡¯,¡± His voice was solid, as though it was a promise. Nero felt the recruit¡¯s emotions flash with pride and enthusiasm, but he didn¡¯t really understand what the big deal was. Dismissing it as unimportant, he returned his attention to the captain. ¡°We will be deployed for 3 weeks this time. Each squad will have objectives which have already been scouted. When we return, we¡¯re back to training. Another week, then we¡¯re back into the thick of it. The constant stress will push you to your limits, and you will grow stronger for it. By the time your year is up, you will have earned your title. ¡°After you''re dismissed, you will have dinner with your team. During your meal, be sure to talk about what¡¯s to come. Your sergeant will brief you. The 4 elites deployed with you will be your family. In time, you will come to rely on them. The bonds formed during stress are stronger than any formed while at peace. Prepare well, because this is just the beginning,¡± he finished, then took his place at the front again. Pausing, he looked over the recruits, then gave a nod of acknowledgment. Captain Angelton shouted, ¡°Dismissed!¡± Then turned and walked away. Nero did his best to stifle his burgeoning chuckle. The entire little speech was so clich¨¦ that he wanted to shout ¡®Gnome¡¯s Rule¡¯ or something else to mock the proceedings. Luckily, he was able to hold himself back, and instead walked over to join his team-mates who were gathering around Sergeant Wesker. As he walked up, he heard the sergeant speaking. ¡°For now, you¡¯ll just have to listen carefully. Your links won¡¯t work outside the walls, and we aren¡¯t going to be relying on a portable hub. The goal of the elites is to be completely self-sufficient. Everything is going to be hard-copy,¡± he said. From his personal space, Nero watched him pull out several brown folders. The fact that they weren¡¯t manila was annoying. He took his folder, and opened it to see a folded map, along with several pages full of reports and conclusions. While they were all standing in a circle, the sergeant said, ¡°During our meal, I¡¯ll give you a brief overview of our objectives. After which, we will head to the armory and the equipment depot. Once we get our gear, we¡¯ll break for the night. Enjoy your shower, it¡¯s the last one you¡¯ll have for a while. Then spend some time reviewing your deployment packet. Your personal responsibilities will be listed, along with our team objectives. Memorize them. Internalize them. They will explain who you will be for the foreseeable future. Now let¡¯s go eat.¡± Nero joined his squad as they headed for the dining hall. While he stored his deployment packet in his personal space, everyone else kept looking at theirs while they walked. It made the walk to the dining hall rather quiet. Looking around, Nero saw that almost everyone was reading while they walked. The other teams were all heading to the dining hall in silence. Annoyed at the teacher¡¯s pets, Nero shattered the studious atmosphere by loudly asking, ¡°Hey Sarge, you do know I get to keep all the essence crystals from the kills I get, right?¡± Heads snapped up from all around Nero. Everyone stared at him and the sergeant, waiting to hear the answer. Noticing the attention, Nero smiled widely while Sergeant Wesker grimaced. ¡°I¡¯ve been apprised of the deal you made with the general. But you¡¯ll be responsible for carrying them if you want to keep them,¡± he said through gritted teeth. Mutters and questions started up among the groups walking beside them. Nero was happy with the wrench he threw into everyone¡¯s day. It probably wasn¡¯t nice, but it WAS funny. Nick looked up from his deployment packet and said, ¡°Nero, do you even know how to harvest essence crystals?¡± Nero shrugged and said, ¡°I read about it. It didn¡¯t seem very hard. You just have to condense the residual essence lingering in whatever you just killed. Beasts and monsters are the best, but you can even get them from animals sometimes.¡± Nick chuckled in amusement, but didn¡¯t say anything else. He returned to his reading with a smile on his face. Nero felt like he was missing something, but didn¡¯t push it. There were too many people around to hear if Nick started lecturing him. Nero would rather wait to be proven an idiot in private. Eventually, they got their food and were seated at their usual table. This time, Sergeant Wesker joined them by sitting next to Cathleen. Nero was sure it was because the man didn¡¯t want to sit next to him. Even though he felt mildly insulted, he managed to let it go. During the meal, the sergeant talked about what they¡¯d face. None of it really surprised Nero. They were going to head into a massive forest, then break into groups. Each squad would have different places they needed to go and check out. Some of their objectives were to clean out areas of the forest, others were to ¡®eliminate spawn points¡¯. They would also be confirming the scouting reports. Everywhere they went, they had to document what they found. Nero¡¯s mind started to wander when the sergeant started talking about the multiple variants of the monsters they would be facing. Since the man kept saying that ¡®more details were in the deployment packet¡¯, Nero didn¡¯t know why the man bothered talking about it now. Nero¡¯s attention was caught again when Cathleen asked about their sleeping schedule. The sergeant said that the plan for the night¡¯s watch could be found in the deployment packet. He then started describing what he had written. Annoyed, Nero couldn¡¯t help but interrupt. ¡°Look, if all the information is in the packet, then why don¡¯t we just talk about something else. We¡¯re all going to read the packet. This entire conversation is getting ridiculous. How about we talk about the things we need to know that AREN¡¯T in the deployment packet.¡± Nick chuckled and said, ¡°Nero has a point. Is there anything that we should be aware of that isn¡¯t addressed in our information packets?¡± Grumbling, Sergeant Wesker muttered, ¡°What the hell did I do to deserve this assignment?¡± Addressing the table, he said, ¡°The point of the deployment packets is for you to have reference material covering everything I¡¯m discussing right now. It is not meant to be a replacement for a briefing.¡± Despite the fact that Cathleen, Rose, and Nick all nodded in understanding, Nero said, ¡°That¡¯s because people tend not to listen. And if we aren¡¯t going to listen, why don¡¯t we just read the packet. You don¡¯t have to talk to people ignoring you, and we don¡¯t have to pretend to listen. Is there really nothing you can tell us that isn¡¯t in the packet?¡± Staring hard at Nero, the sergeant said, ¡°No. Everything you need to know is in the packet. How about you just eat your meal in silence.¡± Nero scooped up some more vegetables and took a big bite while smiling at the sergeant. Satisfied that he had won that round, Nero gave the man his petty victory and kept his mouth shut. The entire table spent the rest of the meal in silence, while the other tables filled with squads went over their deployment plans. The entire time, Nick would occasionally chuckle while the sergeant kept stabbing his food in impotent fury. Chapter 89 - Packing sucks. Arch-mage Jennings was in his private room at the top of the mage tower, using his link to read a paper on planar magic. He always enjoyed the multi-layered spell-forms. The author was a brilliant mage from out East, and Jennings thought that some of the ideas in the paper were extremely interesting. As Jennings looked over the data the man had collected from a planar disturbance he had found, the door to his room pinged. Lazily opening his eyes, he didn¡¯t bother to remove his feet from his desk. With a casual wave of his hand, the door opened and he shouted, ¡°What? I thought I told you idiots that you were to report to Mage-adept Newbanks from now on.¡± ¡°They know. Thank you for that by the way. In the future, if you¡¯d like me to take over your projects, I¡¯d appreciate the associated files for those projects,¡± said Mage-adept Newbanks, as she strolled into the room with her typical calm expression plastered on her face. Snorting, Jennings replied, ¡°I¡¯m sure you did fine. But if it makes you feel better¡­¡± He opened his link and quickly collected and collated all of the current court mage files he had, then said, ¡°There. You have everything concerning the current happenings in Dorchester. However, a word of caution.¡± Jennings dropped his legs from the table, sat up and gave the new court mage a serious stare. ¡°Do not interfere with any plots against House Walker. I want that young man to deal with those issues himself.¡± Newbanks¡¯ eyes lost focus as she mentally went through the files Jennings had sent her. After a few seconds of reading, she raised her eyebrows in surprise then focused on Jennings. She said, ¡°You know that this is in direct violation of the new noble accords. Are we really not going to do anything?¡± Shrugging, Jennings poured himself a drink then leaned back in his comfy chair. He said, ¡°Eh, it doesn¡¯t matter. The plan will fail. After which, we can decide what to do about it. Let the nobles play their stupid games. I have it all under control. And besides, we have more important things to worry about. By the way, did you get that coffee they have at the keep?¡± Offering Jennings a blank stare, she replied, ¡°Yes. You now have a personal stash of the same coffee they use at the keep. It has been charged to your personal account, and hidden behind the wards you requested. Also, I¡¯m waiting to receive confirmation that your bid has been accepted by the artisans for the work on your yacht. They seem hesitant to paint over the royal colors.¡± Chuckling, Jennings said, ¡°It¡¯s my yacht. I stole it fair and square. Just give them the paperwork that Mathers sent over. If I want a bright green yacht, then I should have a bright green yacht. Also see if there is a painter willing to put blue flames on it. That would look great.¡± Without showing any emotion on her face, Newbanks said, ¡°Very well. I¡¯ll look into it. Thank you for your time sir.¡± She abruptly spun and walked out of the room, slamming the door with her psychic field. Jennings just watched the woman leave, then shrugged at her display of anger. ¡®That woman is wound tighter than a dimensional knot. I¡¯m gonna have to work on getting her to lighten up,¡¯ he thought while returning to the interesting paper he had been reading. ----- All of his gear was spread out across his room. There was so much, it took up both his desk and his bed. In fact, he had to prop the spears up in the corner when he had run out of room. Nero looked around and shook his head in dismay. He couldn¡¯t believe how much crap they wanted him to lug around. Even if he had a personal dimension, he had more important things to store in it than half of this junk. Mentally checking his personal space, Nero looked over what he had picked up over the past few days. There were 8 pots of coffee, a bunch of dirty dishes, several plates stacked with cookies and bread, and his satchel along with all his books. But, there was still a lot of space that wasn¡¯t being used. It was like a really large room that had everything just floating in it. There was no time, gravity, or atmosphere. The dimension was so bare-bones, that it really was just a spatial pocket. Nero had paid close attention to the book Jennings had given him. In it were many different types of personal dimensions, and Nero had chosen the most basic one to start with. Even that was arguably more complicated than he should have been able to cast. He didn¡¯t fully understand the spell-form, and if it hadn¡¯t been for them goading him into casting it, he wouldn¡¯t have tried. The more complicated dimensions described in the book could even allow for containing living beings. Nero wondered if one day he would be able to have the coveted ¡®inner world¡¯ that the cultivation novels always talked about. Although he couldn¡¯t imagine how complicated the spell-form would be to cast one. The entire concept was crazy to him. It had taken only one spell, and he had created a separate dimension that didn¡¯t require any upkeep. And since it was tied to his soul, it would endure until he, and only he, canceled it. The only limits it had were the initial design constraints, and how powerful his soul was. If he had cast it wrong, he could have damaged his center. Or if he had tried to make it too big, he wouldn¡¯t have been able to tether it to his soul, and it would have collapsed. Nero shivered at the thought of what could have happened if he hadn¡¯t succeeded. Even if the chances of failure were small, he shouldn¡¯t have let the old bastards goad him into creating it. Shaking off his internal musings, he returned to the task at hand. Looking around the room, he thought about how he wanted to do this. Rather than pack everything up into the large duffel bags, he figured it was a better idea to store everything separately. He didn¡¯t seem to have a problem visualizing his personal dimension like some people did, so he figured it was better to be able to just grab what he needed individually. Starting with his weapons, he stored 4 short swords, 10 spears that were taller than him, 3 small buckler shields, 1 large shield that was too big for him, and an assortment of knives. Smiling at his personal arsenal, Nero looked around the room and realized he hadn¡¯t really made a dent in all the stuff he had pulled from the large bags. Since he had to individually imbue his center into everything, he realized this was going to take forever. With a huff of annoyance, he stopped stalling and just did it. 3- enchanted lamps: designed to pull in ambient essence and create a directed light. 5- large bundles of ropes: various thicknesses, from twine to climbing rope. 2- sleeping bags: enchanted to be sturdy and could be hung from trees. 1- tent, which could be activated to expand into a small dome. 1- small pillow, which looked like a large soft brick. 10- blankets: thick wool-like material, colored dark green. 2- pickaxes: enchanted with an aid to piercing damage and sturdiness. 2- wood axes: long handles, enchanted to aid cutting down trees. 2- hand axes: short handles, enchanted to aid in stripping trees and for combat. 1- firestarter: round foot long stick that can produce a spark from ambient essence. 5- illusion rocks: enchanted to cast a misdirection ward, so enemies won¡¯t know where to find them. Meant to be placed in a pentagram. 10- full clothing sets, dark green¡­ even the underwear. 1- set of cold weather clothes, in case of planar displacement, however unlikely. 2- spare sets of boots. Stolen from its original source, this story is not meant to be on Amazon; report any sightings. 30- pairs of socks, which Nero thought was over-kill, but stored them anyway. 1- poncho type rain gear. 1- barrel: enchanted to use ambient essence to collect water. 50- rations, which looked like small brick sized energy bars. 2- cups. 5- canteens. 2- large sporks, which Nero was happy to see existing in this world. 4- large duffel bags, now empty. 2- pairs of goggles: enchanted to increase viewing distance, and handle low light areas. 2- masks, green. 2- breathing filters, which looked like a hospital mask had a baby with a welding helmet. Pausing, Nero felt drained. It was annoying to create a connection to so much random stuff. He looked through what was left, and decided that he didn¡¯t need any of it. There were things like sewing kits, fish hooks, and tiny empty bags with drawstrings. Nero snorted at the assorted first aid tools; if he ended up needing them he would already be dead. His magic would serve most of his needs. It was bad enough that he took a firestarter. Enough was enough, he thought. Taking everything that was left, he shoved it into the corner of his room. He already had all the important stuff. If he ended up needing something else, then he¡¯d just have to suck it up and deal with it. There were more important things he could be doing, and he¡¯d already wasted hours dealing with this. In fact, he really needed to talk to Nick before he went to bed. Opening a connection, he pinged Nick. When the connection established, he heard Nick ask, ¡°Hey Nero, is everything all right?¡± Nero took a seat at his desk, and said, ¡°Yeah, I¡¯m all good. I wanted to ask you about essence crystals. You made it seem like there was more to it than just condensing essence.¡± Nick¡¯s connection transmitted his amusement, and he said, ¡°You¡¯ll see when you try it. It¡¯s not terribly difficult, but it isn¡¯t as easy as you think it is. Also, did you figure out how you are going to carry the crystals?¡± Nero asked, ¡°What do you mean? Can¡¯t I just store them in my personal space?¡± Nick sighed and said, ¡°No Nero. Think about what an essence crystal is. Do you see the problem?¡± Nero thought about it for full minute in silence. Eventually he said, ¡°I¡¯ve got nothing. What am I missing?¡± Nick said, ¡°Essence crystals are condensed potential, or essence. If you try to imbue them with your center, what do you think will happen?¡± Nero replied, ¡°Um¡­ nothing?¡± Nick said, ¡°Yes, nothing. So if you can¡¯t imbue them with your center, how do you expect to transfer them into your personal dimension which is saturated with your identity?¡± Nero asked, ¡°Wait a second. If you can¡¯t store things with an identity, then how do you store enchanted items?¡± Nick replied, ¡°It¡¯s totally different. You can coat something with your identity and store it. But an essence crystal doesn¡¯t really have a shape. It is not really physically there at all. It is a condensed form of an ethereal concept. Most space magic won¡¯t work with them. Why do you think there are so many caravans moving between cities? It¡¯s mostly for moving essence crystals around. Other things are easily stored in dimensional spaces, personal dimensions, and even dimensional crates.¡± Nero asked, ¡°So how do people normally carry them?¡± Nick replied, ¡°Around here? They put them in a bag that grows the more things are put into them. It¡¯s like a stretchy backpack. I¡¯m sure the military has tons of them. But in the bigger cities, they use an expanded bag. It¡¯s not a separate dimension, so there is no issue. Think of it as a really large bag, but on the outside it looks small. They aren¡¯t easy to make, and they cost a fortune.¡± Nero thought about what Nick was saying, and it kind of made sense. He could see why essence crystals were a pain in the ass to move around. Thinking of the satchel that Jennings had given him, Nero picked it up from the ground next to his desk. Looking inside it, he just saw a large empty black space, as he had already transferred all the books into his personal dimension. ¡°Hey Nick, I think I¡¯ve got one of those expanded bag things,¡± he said curiously. Nick said, ¡°Nero, you don¡¯t. I doubt anyone in Dorchester has one. There is no point in having them around here. The cost would be around a hundred valens.¡± Nero heard what Nick was saying, and he realized Nick was talking about dukely valens. That would be like 100 million common valens. That was insane. Nero asked, ¡°Why the hell are they that expensive?¡± Nick replied easily, ¡°Because they are hard to make, and they require essence crystals to create the added space. It takes a powerful enchanter to harness that potential into an expanded space. Not to mention that the cost of living in larger cities is much higher. You may be rich, but you¡¯re still rich in the middle of nowhere.¡± Nero grimaced at Nick casually calling him ¡®ghetto rich¡¯. ¡°Bite me. Anyway, I¡¯m pretty sure the bag Jennings gave me is one of the bags you''re talking about.¡± Immediately the connection slammed shut. Nero reeled from the unexpected mental disconnect. Shaking his head to clear it, he frowned in annoyance. Seconds later, the door to his room shook like someone was trying to open it. Standing up, Nero waved a hand to open the door. Rushing in, Nick said, ¡°Show me the bag!¡± Nero shrugged and tossed the bag to the man. Nick examined the plain looking satchel. It was good quality leather, and seemed well made. He opened it and looked inside. Nick¡¯s eyebrows shot up and he looked like he had just found a sex tape of his favorite celebrity. Stepping forward, he shook the bag at Nero and said, ¡°Do you have any idea what this is?¡± Nero offered a blank look and said, ¡°It¡¯s an expanded bag which can store a shitload of essence crystals.¡± Nick ignored Nero¡¯s tone and said, ¡°It¡¯s an actual expanded bag! I haven¡¯t seen one of these in years. Do you know what this means?!?¡± Nero didn¡¯t say anything, he just stared at Nick like the man was freaking out over nothing. Nick said, ¡°Why do you have this?¡± Nero said, ¡°Because I¡¯m mysterious. It was a gift from a fan. Now give it back and get out. I¡¯m going to sleep now.¡± Nick seemed to struggle internally, then tossed Nero the bag and stormed out of the room. The entire time he was muttering about how much of a ¡®little shit¡¯ Nero was, and how much of an ¡®ungrateful idiot¡¯ he was. Culminating in him shouting over his shoulder, ¡°Just you wait! I¡¯m going to get my own bag, and it will be twice as big as yours. And it will be red leather with gold buckles. You¡¯ll be the one feeling jealous!¡± Nick slammed the door as he left. Nero smiled at the man¡¯s rant. Envy was always an adorable trait in friends. Opening his link, Nero sent a ping message to Arch-mage Jennings. Hey old man, I just found out that the bag you gave me was like crazy expensive and super useful for collecting essence crystals. If you really thought that far ahead, then I¡¯m impressed. But I¡¯m guessing this is just a happy accident. Either way, consider this an official ¡®thank you¡¯. I¡¯m sure I owe you a favor or two at this point. So if there is anything you need, let me know. If it isn¡¯t something super annoying, or I don¡¯t want to do it, or if it¡¯s too expensive, then I¡¯m perfectly happy to help you out with whatever you need. -Nero Happy with his message, and feeling proud that he remembered to send a ¡®thank you¡¯ card, Nero tossed the bag onto his desk. Stretching, he decided to call it a night. Tomorrow was going to be a big day, and he wanted to have a good night¡¯s rest. Chapter 90 - Some people are more prepared than others. The head of the Enforcement squad, Captain Reese, wasn¡¯t happy. She considered this entire mission a waste of her time, and she wasn¡¯t shy about showing her displeasure with the situation. Standing in front of her 50-man squad, she crossed her arms and said, ¡°How many favors did you have to call in for us to be here?¡± Vera faced the tall woman with a cold look on her face. She was wearing her combat attire, which she hadn¡¯t used in years. Crimson red accents adorned a tight black robe, along with skin tight reinforced pants. Her boots had metal inserts and matched the theme perfectly. Everything she wore was custom made and built to endure serious punishment. She was even wearing her combat cloak, which had a protective hood with a built-in essence shield. Vera said in a voice filled with steel, ¡°You were sent here because the Dorchen estate has been out of contact since the noble war. Even though the Populators declared the city clear of threats, we have no idea what we¡¯ll find. The only information we were given stated that there were no immediate threats, and the estate was left standing. As the entire estate was an award from the noble war, the Tower of Law is responsible for overseeing the change of ownership. Would you like me to have my personal army clear the compound? I¡¯ll be more than happy to send the Tower my bill.¡± With a huff, Captain Reese said, ¡°Fine. Just keep your mercenaries out of the way. We¡¯ll handle this.¡± Vera nodded in calm acceptance, and the Captain turned to address the astra-platform technicians. ¡°Are you receiving a coordinate signal from the estate?¡± she asked. A technician nodded and replied, ¡°Yes, we have a positive lock. The Tower of Law override worked to break the cloak. We¡¯re ready to transport at any time.¡± Over her shoulder, Captain Reese shouted, ¡°Team One, on the platform. Get communications up as soon as you get there. If you can¡¯t get into the local hub, use the teleportation link to send us a message.¡± 10 guards took their place on the astra-platform, and their team-leader signaled the technicians to activate the teleport. Vera watched them vanish in a flash, then turned to observe the captain. As the minutes passed, the captain¡¯s face slowly grew more worried. The silence was broken by a technician shouting, ¡°We¡¯ve got a transmission coming through the signal matrix. They¡¯re using the link to transmit text.¡± The technician fiddled with some controls then continued, ¡°They are saying that the local hub is locked down, and they didn¡¯t find anyone at the astra-platform. But there is a large sign indicating that they surrender and a communication crystal is sitting on the control pedestal.¡± Vera¡¯s mind raced through the different scenarios, trying extrapolate what that meant. Before she could say anything, she watched the captain march up onto the platform and shout, ¡°Get me over there.¡± In a flash, the woman vanished. Frowning, Vera turned her head slightly and said, ¡°With me!¡± She ordered the five-man team she had brought along to follow her. As she and her private mercenaries stepped onto the platform, she offered the technicians a nod, then transported to the Dorchen estate. She and her team appeared in an overly ornate private teleportation room. The captain was already holding the communication crystal and seemed to be surprised at what she was hearing. Unwilling to be left out of the decision making process, Vera demanded, ¡°Captain Reese, what¡¯s the situation?¡± The captain turned to look at Vera, and with a stunned look on her face, she said, ¡°There are still 10 guards left here. They apparently were all that was left after Dorchen stormed the keep. When the Populators showed up, they isolated the entire staff in a dining room and sealed the exits. The guards were personally charged with making sure that no one escaped. The local hub was isolated and the estate wards were activated. The guards have been waiting almost a week for someone to show up and relieve them from their duty. They are terrified and asking why it took the Tower of Law so long to show up.¡± Vera didn¡¯t bat an eye at the unusual circumstances, and said, ¡°You¡¯re going to need to go back and get a logician along with a team to interrogate everyone on site. The Populators seemed to think the local Tower of Law could handle it. I recommend you live up to the responsibility they just gave you.¡± Nodding, Captain Reese said, ¡°Yes of course. This needs to be handled carefully.¡± Vera offered a smug smile, and said, ¡°Aren¡¯t you glad you decided to come. How foolish would you have looked if you stayed behind and I had to formally petition the Tower of Law to do their job? Perhaps in the future you will remember that situations are only bad when you enter them without preparation.¡± Looking like she just bit into a lemon, Captain Reese replied, ¡°Thank you for your counsel. I¡¯ll be sure to remember it.¡± With a sigh, her shoulders slumped and she took a step closer to Vera then continued, ¡°I formally thank you for including the Tower of Law. You have saved us from looking like idiots, and I recognize the debt.¡± Vera waved her hand dismissively and replied, ¡°House Walker has the deepest respect for the Tower of Law, and we will fully cooperate with your investigations. There is no reason for the Tower¡¯s negligence to be formally recorded. After you complete your operations, I will formally declare the estate received, and we can put all of this behind us. Perhaps, as a favor, you could make sure to ensure the loyalty of all the employees of the former Lord Dorchester. If House Walker is to staff the estate, it would be nice to know who is trustworthy.¡± Captain Reese recognized the subtext of what Vera was saying, and replied, ¡°I¡¯ll see to it personally.¡± Vera replied with a smile, ¡°Splendid. I¡¯ll be waiting to hear from you.¡± Turning, she offered her head mercenary a nod, and the stern faced woman went to the astra-platform controls to set a delayed teleport. After fiddling with the control console, she rushed to join Vera and the other mercenaries on the platform. Making it just in time, the teleporter flashed and sent them all back to central Dorchester. Captain Reese watched House Walker¡¯s proxy leave, and wondered, ¡®How did that woman know we¡¯d be needed here? The estate could have just as easily already been evacuated. There shouldn¡¯t have been any reason for us to be here. By the gods, that woman is terrifying.¡¯ Shaking herself clear of her thoughts, she started shouting orders. ----- Reveille had been at the same time it had been for the past week, and Nero was filled with nervous energy. His body had already adapted to a morning workout, and the sedate march toward the gate was making him feel twitchy. This content has been unlawfully taken from Royal Road; report any instances of this story if found elsewhere. Marching in two lines, the elite recruits walked through the streets of Dorchester, earning stares and looks of wonder from the citizens who rushed to make way for them. All of the elites were wearing their combat attire, but aside from the coloring, their gear was all different. Some wore chain-mail, some wore leather armor, and some even wore full plate. Nero felt weird wearing just common fatigues along with a dark blue tabard. When he asked why he didn¡¯t get armor, Sergeant Wesker had just laughed and said that Nero hadn¡¯t earned it. Glancing to his right, Nero saw Nick walking with a smile. The man seemed to be enjoying the attention. He was dressed just like Nero, but he had a large duffel bag strapped to his back, while using a large spear like a walking stick. Nero thought the man looked like an idiot. If there was one thing Nick was not, it was a soldier. Whispering, Nero asked, ¡°Why didn¡¯t you throw your bag into your personal space. In fact, why is everyone wearing their bag?¡± Nick hissed his response, ¡°Didn¡¯t you read the deployment packet?¡± Nero felt a little ashamed that he had forgotten to read it, as he had been too busy filling his personal space with all the crap he had been issued. He replied, ¡°Remind me what your talking about.¡± Nick sighed and said, ¡°After all that fuss you made at dinner about just reading the information rather than listening to the sergeant, you didn¡¯t even bother to read it!¡± Nero didn¡¯t want to get into it, and repeated, ¡°Just tell me what you¡¯re talking about.¡± The soldiers surrounding them were all chuckling. Luckily, the team leaders along with Captain Angelton were near the front of their column, and were too far away hear Nero talking. Nick said, ¡°In combat, you might not have enough concentration to pull a weapon out of storage. And the bag is because sometimes essence drifts make accessing personal dimensions difficult. There was a whole section about it. You¡¯re going to have to read the damn packet Nero.¡± Nero shrugged and said, ¡°I¡¯ll get around to it.¡± Mentally reaching out, Nero tried to form a personal connection to Nick like Arch-mage Jennings had shown him. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw Nick look toward him with surprise clear on his face. Nero frowned at him and shook his head. Nick looked confused, but reached out to establish a connection. ¡°I didn¡¯t know you knew how to do this? Why didn¡¯t you just use your link?¡± asked Nick. Nero kept his eyes forward, pretending that nothing was happening. He replied over the connection, ¡°I had Jennings show me. Don¡¯t tell anyone. We needed a way to communicate without anyone knowing.¡± Nick kept his eyes forward, but his face made it clear that he was having a mental conversation. Espionage wasn¡¯t his forte. ¡°Dammit Nick! Try to act normal,¡± said Nero. Schooling his face, Nick said, ¡°Sorry. What¡¯s this all about?¡± Nero said, ¡°I just wanted to make sure that we have a way to talk without anyone hearing us. Jennings said that I¡¯m not strong enough to do it without someone else holding the connection. I wanted to see if you could do it.¡± Nick mentally scoffed, and replied, ¡°Of course I can create a mental link. I¡¯m not an idiot. But why are you trying to hide our conversation? And you know that anyone with some mage training can sense us talking, so what¡¯s the point?¡± Nero said, ¡°The point is that we¡¯re the only mages around. You think Wesker, Rose, or Cathleen will be able to tell?¡± Nick took a second to think, then replied, ¡°No. I doubt they¡¯d be able to tell. But you know this is just a waste of center. Keeping this up isn¡¯t practical.¡± ¡°We don¡¯t need to keep it up. I just wanted to confirm that it was an option. Make sure to keep it secret, so we can use it if we need to communicate without anyone knowing. Also, I wanted to ask you what I should do about my gear. I put it all in my personal space last night. How screwed am I?¡± asked Nero. Mentally chuckling, Nick said, ¡°You¡¯ll be fine. Just pull out your weapon, otherwise you¡¯ll look like an idiot. When we¡¯re in the wilds, it will be unlikely that we¡¯ll run into anything that actually disrupts our ability to reach into our personal spaces. The essence disturbances only really affect people who aren¡¯t very skilled with magic. You should be fine.¡± Relieved, Nero said, ¡°That¡¯s really good to hear. Now, can you tell me what I need to know from the packet?¡± Nero felt Nick¡¯s annoyance over their connection. Nick said, ¡°Just read the packet. Now isn¡¯t the time for this. Get your weapon out and start acting like you know what you¡¯re doing. You¡¯re embarrassing me.¡± Nick cut the connection and Nero felt his mental probe dissipate. Realizing that Nick wasn¡¯t in the mood to help Nero with his homework, he mentally looked into his personal dimension, searching for a weapon. Nero found a bandoleer type thing filled with knives, along with a sword and a scabbard which could be attached to his belt. As he walked, he pulled out the bandoleer and threw it on. Fiddling with the ties that made sure it stayed in place wasn¡¯t particularly easy to do while walking, but he managed well enough. The sword was another matter altogether. Nero couldn¡¯t figure out how to get the scabbard to attach to his belt. Slightly breaking formation, Nero moved to see how the recruit in front of him had her sword attached. When she noticed what Nero was doing, she looked over her shoulder with a smile. Nero offered a thankful nod as she lifted her arm so he could get a better look. Realizing that he was supposed to attach it to the belt UNDER the tabard belt, Nero finally got it in place. Feeling like he had everything in place, Nero tried to get used to walking with a sword flopping around. He ended up just using his left hand to hold onto the hilt, holding it in place. Nick had watched Nero¡¯s antics and spent the entire time chuckling. Cathleen spoke up from behind them, her voice like ice. ¡°Little lord, you¡¯re going to need to get your shit together. I¡¯ll do my best to ensure your survival, but YOU are going to have to start paying attention. Combat isn¡¯t just about fighting. It¡¯s about preparation and focus. Clear your mind of distractions, and pay attention to everything. It¡¯s what you ignore that will kill you.¡± Nero didn¡¯t turn around, but listened with rapt attention. The woman didn¡¯t speak often, but when she did, she was worth listening to. Nodding in thanks, he firmed his resolve and tried to live in the moment. He looked up to see the ridiculously large gate in the distance. He had read that Gate 15 was one of the 4 primary gates. Gate 7 was in the south, Gate 15 in the east, Gate 22 in the north, and Gate 30 in the west. The primary gates were usually kept open, and it looked like they were wide enough to drive a cruise ship through them, while being tall enough to fit a NASA rocket. Feeling a shiver, Nero tried to calm the butterflies in his stomach. It was really happening. He was going out into the unknown to fight monsters and beasts. It had only been a few weeks since he arrived here, and he was already throwing himself into danger. ¡®Well, I wanted to be the main character in my story, and this is what the hero does. He acts like an idiot and runs toward the burning building to save the maiden,¡¯ he thought. Nero''s attention was caught by the incredibly dangerous woman walking in front of him. Half the elite recruits were women, and every one of them seemed just as dangerous as the men. Nero realized that there may not be a maiden waiting for him after this adventure. ¡®I¡¯ll just have to settle for killing monsters and getting paid. Even warrior chicks like an expensive meal, right?¡¯ he wondered. His eyes glanced over to Rose, who was walking in front of Nick, and Nero wondered what kind of food she might like. Realizing what had just crossed his mind, Nero stamped down hard on that line of thought. He was not going to fall for a honey-pot. He had seen every spy movie in the past 20 years, and he KNEW better. ¡®Focus on the mission. Worry about everything else later,¡¯ he mentally chided himself. As they got closer to the gate, Nero couldn¡¯t help but stare in awe. ¡®Yup. You¡¯ve really stepped in it now,¡¯ he told himself. Chapter 91 - Into the woods. Vera was in her office at the newly renamed Salvatore-Verena estate. She wore a satisfied smirk as she monitored the multiple screens hovering above her desk. For her, there was no better feeling than watching multiple plots and plans proceeding in perfect harmony. The delicate web of cause and effect, move and countermove, all resulting in her victory along with a confusing loss for her opponents. On one screen, she was keeping track of the acquisition team she had sent to Bevin Industries. The recent acquisition had cost a great deal, and House Walker had required a loan to cover the expense. Although Nero had a great deal of money coming in, and even more that would soon be awarded, he was anything but flush at the moment. She smiled at the thought of all those greedy politicians who had smelled blood in the water. They had fought over who would sponsor the loans, and what it would cost House Walker. She had carefully played them off each other, and allowed herself to fall into a trap. Should House Walker default on their payments, it would have to hand over the entirety of Bevin Industries to House Lorach. Vera turned slightly to look at the screen monitoring the team that was in charge of ferreting out House Lorach¡¯s plan to sabotage her efforts to repurpose Bevin Industries. The industrial assets would be the main supplier for all of the new trading houses she was in the process of opening. Apparently, Lord Lorach was trying to use his connections to limit her potential profits. He incorrectly thought the trading houses would be relying on goods for the margins. Smiling, she sent out a few pings to tweak her orders. Everything was proceeding according to plan. As she sipped her incredibly over-priced tea, she glanced at the other screens. One was providing updates on her shipping concern, Precision Shipping. Another was displaying the current results of her private mercenary firm¡¯s recruitment efforts. Using Nero¡¯s advice, she had started the mercenary outfit under House Walker. House Walker needed guards that were loyal and well trained, while she could charge the business¡¯s a hiring fee to use their services. Nero would be paying himself to provide the guards. It was brilliant. She had liked the idea so much, that she had done the same thing with her shipping company. Unfortunately, she had to include House Walker as a part owner, so she wouldn¡¯t be embezzling from House Walker. Once again, she wondered how she hadn¡¯t thought of it. She checked her screens, and she still had no word on what the award would be for reporting the exploit. As she had never heard of a successful exploit being found, she wasn¡¯t sure how long it would take to hear back from the Council of Leadership in Hennings. She took solace in the fact that Hennings Tower of Law would be personally seeing to the award Nero would receive from the assassination challenge. Initial estimates were much larger than she had expected. All of that money should be transferred sometime in the next week. Nero would be returning to a surplus of valens. She would have to fabricate a reason to explain why she didn¡¯t pay off House Walker¡¯s loans. Vera took another sip of tea, and smiled at the thought of Nero hearing what she had accomplished. She would deliver him a bank statement that would make him run and hide. That young man¡¯s hatred of responsibility was like nothing she had ever seen. Maybe he would come up with another brilliant plan she could use. While House Walker rose, it would serve to cloud her moves for House Verena. It was so nice to be able to help a friend while helping herself. Yes, House Walker would rise high. And if everything goes to plan, Nicholas will complete his trials quickly, then she would be raised to nobility by virtue of marriage and pedigree. Then, and only then, will she be able to activate plan ¡®mountain-top¡¯. While the screens flashed with updates, she leaned back in her chair and grinned at the visual representation of her will being enacted. ----- After leaving the wall, the elites made their way through the exterior towns. Nero was told that they were still technically in Dorchester, but the areas outside the walls were for trade and considered expendable. While the buildings looked solid, Nero noticed that there didn¡¯t seem to be many complicated structures. There were no statues or fountains like there were inside the walls. Soon enough, they reached the end of the outer towns. Even thought they had been lightly jogging, Nero was surprised to find that he didn¡¯t feel winded. It seemed that the past week of training had made him perfectly capable of jogging for hours without issue. He wondered if this was how it felt to run a marathon. The team of elites kept their pace, while occasionally having conversations with each other. Nero didn¡¯t bother to take part, as he was focused on the environment. He could see the large forest in the distance. Between the outer town and the forests were occasional houses, and what looked like lumber mills. It seemed like they were constantly chopping down trees to keep the rolling hills clear of vegetation. The road they were on was dirt, but it was packed so tightly that it was like a highway. Nero could see trails where wagon wheels had marked the ground, but they hadn¡¯t managed to cause any grooves. The road was wide enough for multiple semi-trucks to travel side-by-side, and there were plenty of wagons and people traveling in both directions. As the elites jogged past them, the people offered their thanks and well wishes. It felt odd to Nero, but he figured it was just part of their culture to celebrate people facing the wilds. Without warning, the front of the column left the road and headed straight toward the forest in the distance. Nero couldn¡¯t figure out how they were deciding where to go, it¡¯s not like they had GPS. When they reached the edge of the forest, Nero looked up at the incredibly tall canopy. It was like a line had been arbitrarily decided. On one side was a forest, and the other was grassy plains. Even the brush was cut back. As he looked left and right, Nero thought it looked like a forest butting up against a beach, but instead of sand, it ended at a grassy field. He couldn¡¯t help but wonder what that meant for the lumber mills they had passed. They broke into their individual teams, and then turned to face Captain Angelton. The man stood in front of the command team. Nero tried to lock eyes with Sergeant Blackwood, whom he recognized from his time at Gate 7 army command, but the man seemed preoccupied with the map in his hands. The rest of the command team was checking each other¡¯s gear and prepping for combat. Captain Angelton spoke loudly, but didn¡¯t shout. ¡°From here on out, you¡¯ll be in the wilds. You all know the drill. Listen to your team leaders, they know what they¡¯re doing. Watch out for each other. Keep an eye on your surroundings, and don¡¯t lose focus. We¡¯ll rendezvous at the designated camp site in three days. If changes to the targets have to be made, we¡¯ll address it then,¡± he said. Looking around, seemingly judging the look in everyone¡¯s eyes, the captain asked, ¡°Team leaders, do you have any last minute questions or concerns that need to be addressed?¡± Silence greeted the captain, and he waited a full minute. Deciding that it was time to get started, he shouted, ¡°All right, move out!¡± Nero turned to face Sergeant Wesker. His squad-mates, Nick, Cathleen, and Rose were standing next to him. Everyone seemed ready, and Nero¡¯s heart was pounding. He felt like he was in the pre-battle area before a paintball game. Trying to calm his nerves, he wiped his hands on his pants, clearing off the sweat while he waited to hear what the sergeant had to say. ¡°OK. You all know what to do. We¡¯ve only got three days before we have to meet up at the campsite the command team is going to set up. Stay in formation, and keep your eyes open. Let¡¯s get moving,¡± he said. The sergeant hefted his shield, made sure his sword was clear in his scabbard, then turned to start off into the woods. Nero watched as the others readied their weapons and tightened their straps on their bags. Seconds later, everyone walked off, leaving Nero standing there stunned. Help support creative writers by finding and reading their stories on the original site. He jogged to catch up and asked, ¡°Um¡­ what¡¯s the formation?¡± Sergeant Wesker stopped, and then so did everyone else. They all turned to Nero and gave him a look that made him feel about two-inches tall. Nick hissed quietly, ¡°You didn¡¯t even look at your responsibility section?¡± Nero shrank a little and offered an apologetic smirk. ¡°Well, it took a while to get everything into my personal space, then I kinda forgot. Just tell me where to stand and I¡¯ll do my part,¡± he said, sounding like a child reassuring his parents that he would take out the trash. Rose seemed the most surprised. She looked at Nero like she had never seen him before. Cathleen didn¡¯t seem too surprised, just disappointed. If Nero were honest with himself, that hurt more than Nick¡¯s quiet fury. Sergeant Wesker said, ¡°Stand in the back left, next to Nick. Watch the left side, and keep an eye on our rear. Call out anything out of the ordinary. Keep your presence hidden, and don¡¯t make a lot of noise. Look, listen, and then report. And try not to get anyone killed.¡± With a huff, he turned and started stalking into the forest. Everyone else followed suit, and Nero took up his assigned position in the formation. His left hand was gripping his sword¡¯s handle with white knuckles, while his right was holding the strap of the messenger satchel Jennings had given him. Nero¡¯s eyes darted around and tried to focus on the surrounding forest. They were only 5 minutes into their walk, and they were already in shadow. The tall canopy did an amazing job of blocking out the sun, and only shafts of light were allowed to dance among the trees. The first branches started about 10ft up, but there were a bunch of large bushes, along with vines and undergrowth. There were even patches of odd flowers, and stalks of weird plants that ended in glowing bulbs. Nero couldn¡¯t stop staring at the details. Although he knew this was a fantasy world, it was weird to actually see evidence of that fact. Overall, the forest resembled a typical North American forest, but the details weren¡¯t right. The moss was a little too green, and the shadows were a little too dark. The plants and bushes weren¡¯t right either. Everything was close, but just ¡®off¡¯ enough that it freaked him out. Nero felt exposed and he did his best to watch everything, all at once. After a few more minutes of walking, Nero heard Rose shout, ¡°Contact right!¡± Nero¡¯s eyes snapped toward her direction, and he saw her draw and fire her bow like a You-Tube prodigy. Arrow, after arrow shot into the trees. Nero couldn¡¯t see what she was shooting at, but he heard a roar in response to her barrage. Nick created two balls of what looked like purple fire in his hands, and dropped into a ready stance. Cathleen hadn¡¯t even turned around. She kept her eyes on the left side of the formation, probably trying to look out for anything trying to sneak up on them from the other side. The sergeant stood next to Rose, and planted his feet, waiting for the enemy to show itself. Nero was frozen in indecision. He didn¡¯t know what he was supposed to do, and he couldn¡¯t see what Rose was shooting at. Without any better options, he tried to draw his sword. As he hadn¡¯t practiced with a scabbard, it didn¡¯t go well. The harder he yanked, the more the sword seemed trapped. Bursting from the tree line was a 10 foot tall monster. Nero couldn¡¯t decide if it was some kind of bear variant, or a mutated beaver. It¡¯s black eyes and dark mottled fur made it blend into the forest¡¯s background. However, Nero had no trouble seeing its large maw open to display dual rows of sharp teeth. It reminded Nero of Shark-Week on the Discovery Channel. The monster had arrows poking out of its shoulders and a few were concentrated along its front legs, but they didn¡¯t seem to bother it much. It pounded forward, hurtling toward Rose like a linebacker heading for a quarterback, huffing and growling. Nero could only stare as the giant freak of nature kept getting bigger as it got closer. The sergeant stepped in front of Rose and braced his large shield to receive the beast¡¯s charge. Nero thought the man was crazy. It was like he was trying to stop a truck with a shopping cart. Nick released the spells he had prepped, and twin beams of purple energy slammed into the beast¡¯s side, making it stumble. Rather than blowing out chunks of meat, it just seemed to blacken the fur where it hit. Nero realized they may be in some real trouble. When the beast finally reached them, it slammed a shoulder into the sergeant, and Nero expected to see the man flying as the beast rushed through him. But instead, a sound like a gong rang out, echoing through the forest. The monster reeled back in pain, and Nero wondered if the sergeant had dislocated the beast¡¯s shoulder. Stumbling back, it narrowed its eyes and roared at the sergeant, who was still standing with his shield held at the ready. Rose had stepped behind him and was lining up a shot. Instead of purple, Nick fired several yellow beams at the monster, which had about the same effect as the first ones he had used. Nero heard Nick mutter some curse words at his failure to hurt the beast. Nero took a deep breath, and finally managed to draw his sword. He stood at the ready, both hands on the hilt, trying to figure out how he could help, when he saw Cathleen rush past him on his left. The woman held her spear down and to the right, as she hopped gracefully into air. She called out, ¡°Over right!¡± And Nero saw the sergeant lean his head a little to his left. With her left foot, she pushed down on Sergeant Wesker¡¯s right shoulder and launched herself into the air. Nero¡¯s jaw dropped as the woman flew through a shaft of light which had broken through the canopy. Mid-air, she positioned her spear, while her combat braid floated in the wind behind her. Nero could swear he saw her eyes sparkling as she planted her spear into the monster¡¯s forehead, right between its eyes. Pausing in a crouch on its nose, she released her spear and pushed off like she was launching from a catapult. In response to the spear in its head, the monster started flailing around, slamming its paws and shaking its head in pain. Its roars were filled with misery and pain, and Nero felt like he was watching an animal suffering rather than a multi-ton engine of destruction. Looking up, he saw Cathleen soaring back behind Sergeant Wesker, while pulling another spear out of her personal space before she had even hit the ground. Watching her land in a crouch, Nero couldn¡¯t help but utter, ¡°Holy shit woman. That was fucking bad-ass.¡± Looking over her right shoulder, she gave Nero a stern look and asked, ¡°Are you just going to stand there, or are you going to do something little lord?¡± Nero felt like he had taken a hit in the worst place imaginable, his pride. Furrowing his brow, he realized that he was being an idiot. Why hadn¡¯t he been using his psychic field to scan the forest? Why had he been wrapped up like a burrito, hiding his presence so completely that he had blinded himself? And why in the hell did he pull his sword out? He was a mage! As he straightened his shoulders, he could practically hear Jennings laughing his ass off. The thought of someone seeing his display of cowardice was too much, and Nero grit his teeth in anger. Nick had moved a little farther to the side, and was collecting a large amount of essence into a flaming ball of death. Nero wasn¡¯t sure why Nick¡¯s spells weren¡¯t doing anything, but he wasn¡¯t going to stand there and do nothing. Like a bomb going off, Nero exploded his psychic field over the area. He felt Nick¡¯s grasp over the essence, and he felt the void of control around the monster. Nero immediately identified the problem. The monster¡¯s essence field was huge, and it was disrupting anything that came near it. Nick hadn¡¯t imbued enough of his center into his constructs, and by the time they had hit the monster, they didn¡¯t have enough power to do anything. It hadn¡¯t been 10 seconds since Cathleen had implanted her spear, and the monster had already snapped the haft against the ground. It seemed injured, but was still able to fight. Nick fired his plasma beam, and it managed to drill into the towering beast¡¯s side. This time, it looked like the beast had been burned by a giant blowtorch, and it wasn¡¯t happy about it. Turning away from the sergeant, it started toward Nick. But Sergeant Wesker knew his business, and slid along the ground in order to stay between his team and the gaping maw of teeth. Nero returned his sword to his scabbard, and cupped his hands in front of his chest. Focusing, he carved a spell-form to summon a mud patch under the monster. He ignored the ¡®thwips¡¯ from Rose¡¯s bow, the shouts from Nick recommending spells, and Cathleen¡¯s laughter as she danced into combat from behind the sergeant. Nero hadn¡¯t moved, and the team had rotated a little to the right, leaving Nero exposed. He was too busy focusing on his spell to notice, as he hadn¡¯t tried to carve a spell-form this large before. Looking up, he saw that he was facing the monster¡¯s right side, and he had a clear sight-line. With a smile, he released his spell, flooding the forest floor with center imbued essence channeling earth and water. The ground below the monster¡¯s paws suddenly lost traction, and its belly slammed into the now muddied forest floor. Nero had created around a foot of loose, water-logged, mud in a giant circle under the beast. His aim was perfect, as the ground returned to normal right in front of Sergeant Wesker. Nero¡¯s entire team paused at the development. Even Cathleen stepped back to watch the monster flail around. Nero didn¡¯t waste any time, and immediately started carving his next spell. Those years of gaming had prepared him well. Nero carved a lightning spell-form, the largest he had ever tried. It took a full 5 seconds, but he made sure to imbue his will and desire for the spell to penetrate deep and cause the maximum damage possible. A clap of thunder shook the forest, and leaves fell from the trees. Dust and loose dirt flew from the forest floor around Nero, as a pillar of lightning lit up the surroundings. As quick as it came, it vanished just as fast. The forest was silent in the aftermath, and Nero stood there with a giddy smile on his face. He stared at the giant monster which was smoking maybe 15 feet away from him. There were patches of red hot mud that had formed little crystals under the beast, and a giant hole was burned into its side. Nero started laughing like a maniac. He turned to the rest of the team that was staring at him like he was insane. He threw his fists in the air and shouted, ¡°You see that shit! How you like me now bitches!?!¡± Chapter 92 - Were not in Dorchester any more. Mike let go of the swords he had been using to hold on to the back of the monster and stood up. Taking a deep breath, he looked around to see if there were any other threats he needed to deal with. Seeing nothing, he said, ¡°All right. Let¡¯s get our perimeter set up. We¡¯ll base from here.¡± Heather stepped out from behind the tree she had been using as a firing position. ¡°Aren¡¯t we a little too close to the ambush site?¡± she asked. Jerry appeared as he dropped his essence cloak, replying, ¡°No. This is perfect. This monster has cleared the area. Not that it really matters. If that was the strongest thing around here, we don¡¯t have much to worry about. We will probably have a day or two before anything else tries to take over. A simple misdirection ward should be enough to keep us from having to deal with constant attacks.¡± Mike pulled out his swords, then hopped off the beasts back. It was around 10ft tall at the shoulder, and looked like a deer crossed with a bear. The thing was already dispersing, and he hurried to get the essence before the corpse lost too much into the ether. Heather said, ¡°So tomorrow then?¡± Activating the essence collection rod, Mike said, ¡°Yeah. Tomorrow.¡± Jerry got to work securing the campsite, while Heather kept watch. Mike finished collecting the essence and tossed the crystal into his backpack. He stood up to watch his teammates work. They were both professionals, and he was glad to have them with him. Sighing, he told himself that everything was going to work out, and in a few days they would all be rich. ----- ¡°Did you just waste your entire center on the first monster we¡¯ve seen? It hasn¡¯t even been 30 minutes. What the hell is wrong with you?!?¡± shouted Nick. Nero lowered his hands from his victory pose and cocked his head in confusion. He was pretty sure that he had plenty of center left. Rather than answer prematurely and look like an idiot, he checked his identity.
Name Nero Walker Level 11
Race Human Growth 81%
Tier 1 Condition 98%
Age 14 Center 72%
Body 3 Mind 4
Soul 2 Confluence 10
Stars 0 Pillars 1 / 1
Scoffing, Nero said, ¡°I¡¯ve got over 70% left, I¡¯m fine. A little walking meditation and I¡¯ll be back to full.¡± Everyone was still grouped up in front of the smoking bear/beaver monster thing. No one had moved, they just kept staring at Nero like he was a broken lamp they didn¡¯t know what to do with. Nero waited a few seconds and said, ¡°Stop staring at me like that. It¡¯s freaking me out.¡± Nick took a few steps forward and said, ¡°Sorry Nero. It¡¯s just that it is very unusual for someone who just broke level 10 to be able to do what you just did. Putting that aside, the standard practice when facing a monster is to slowly increase how much center you use during combat until you find how much center is required to break a monster¡¯s essence field. You¡¯d know that if you had bothered to read the deployment packet.¡± While Nick was calmly talking to Nero, Cathleen had taken a few steps away and was looking around to see if there were any other threats. Rose was still staring at Nero, but she now looked more confused than scared. Sergeant Wesker had taken off his backpack and was reaching for something inside. Nick kept blathering about how odd Nero was, and what kind of conclusions could be drawn from what Nero had just done. It got very technical, very fast, and Nero had stopped listening. The sergeant was doing something interesting, and it had drawn Nero¡¯s attention. Walking toward the deceased monster, Nero interrupted Nick by asking, ¡°What¡¯s he doing?¡± Nick looked over at the sergeant and said, ¡°He¡¯s going to use a harvester, usually referred to as a ¡®collection rod¡¯. Hunters who aren¡¯t very talented in essence control tend to use them to gather essence crystals.¡± Apparently, Sergeant Wesker heard Nick¡¯s answer and angrily interjected, ¡°It¡¯s just easier to do it this way. My essence control is fine.¡± Nick gave Nero a look like he didn¡¯t believe the sergeant at all, but was willing to humor the poor man. Nero spread out his psychic field to watch what was happening while walking over to take a closer look. The sergeant had pulled out a hefty two foot long rod, with a large hoop on the end of it. The thing looked like a giant bubble maker, but it was made entirely out of inscribed steel. It was shiny, and Nero had a strong urge to play with it. Holding it over the monsters head, the sergeant firmed his stance like he was wielding a sword, or a fishing rod. The hoop started glowing light blue, and seemed to gain weight as the man started looking like he was trying to reel in a big one. In the ethereal plane, Nero could see something being pulled out of the monster. Originally, there were small wisps floating up from the corpse, but now it was all being pulled into the center of the hoop. It looked like a psychic vacuum cleaner. Nero felt some shock as he watched a small crystal start to form inside the hoop. It was suspended in the center, seemingly held up by an invisible force. Nero didn¡¯t feel anything connecting it, and the crystal itself felt weird in his senses. Nero was now close enough to get a good look with his eyes. He saw the small crystal grow like one of the cool crystal growing kits you could get online. It started to take the shape of a hexagon, or more accurately, a squished 20-sided die. The genuine version of this novel can be found on another site. Support the author by reading it there. By the time all of the essence was pulled out of the monster, the crystal was about 2 inches wide and maybe half an inch thick. Nero was in awe. He was looking right at it, but his psychic senses were telling him that the thing was barely there. It was like it wasn¡¯t fully ¡®real¡¯. When the hoop stopped glowing, the crystal fell to the ground. Sergeant Wesker stood up straight and blew out a deep breath like he had just pulled in a marlin. The man said, ¡°All right, I¡¯m not going to be carrying around your loot, so pick that up and try not to lose it.¡± Nero could hear the condescension in the man¡¯s tone, but he couldn¡¯t bring himself to care. He tried to mentally pick up the crystal, but he couldn¡¯t get a good grip on it. It kept slipping through his mental hands. Rather than give up, he just stood there staring at the crystal with an intense look on his face. Nick broke his concentration by saying, ¡°Just pick it up Nero. You won¡¯t be able to interact with it. You¡¯d have to resonate your psychic presence to the frequency of the plane from which the monster¡¯s pattern came.¡± Nero turned to look at Nick. He said, ¡°Anyone ever tell you that 90% of what you say is just gibberish that vaguely resembles a sentence? All the words are clear in their meaning, but when you put them together it¡¯s completely absent of any useful information.¡± Rose had been standing next to them the entire time, and at Nero¡¯s statement, she burst into laughter. Both Nero and Nick looked over at her, and she tried to stop laughing. She was nearly biting her fist to shut herself up. She said, ¡°Sorry. It wasn¡¯t funny. I¡¯ll go over there now.¡± She turned and walked over to Cathleen, who was diligently scanning the forest for threats. Nero bent down and picked up the essence crystal. It felt like a typical crystal, it wasn¡¯t even that heavy. He felt like he could break it pretty easily by throwing it at a wall, or hitting it with a hammer. He turned to Nick and asked, ¡°How durable are these things?¡± Nick raised an eyebrow and said, ¡°They are pretty solid. You can break them, but it would just be a waste of money. They¡¯re not dangerous if that¡¯s what your worried about. If you were to break the containment form, the essence inside would just disperse into the ether and you wouldn¡¯t even have a residual material echo. You need to remember, that¡¯s just a construct with an internal potential for identity.¡± Nero shook his head in defeat. Sometimes he really hated talking to Nick. Everything felt like a lecture. The man was incapable of speaking like a normal person. Putting the crystal into his bag, he asked, ¡°Are we just going to leave the monster here? Shouldn¡¯t we harvest it or something?¡± Sergeant Wesker was the one who answered him. ¡°It¡¯s a monster, not a beast. If you look closely, you¡¯ll see it¡¯s already starting to disperse.¡± Confused, Nero turned back the giant smoking monster. Looking closely, he saw that it wasn¡¯t smoking from his lightning bolt, it was slowly losing mass. Some of it was staying put, but most of it was dispersing into the atmosphere. It¡¯s like it was construct that was losing cohesion. He felt like saying, ¡°Fascinating¡± in a cold tone while raising one eyebrow. Luckily, he held himself back, as no one here would have gotten that reference. While Nero may have never seen a full episode of the original show, he had seen plenty of clips. Deciding that he was just wasting time, he turned back to the rest of the team. Sergeant Wesker was tapping his foot, giving Nero a not-so-subtle hint that he was ready to go. Nero nodded to the man and said, ¡°Alright, I¡¯m done. Do we have to do an after action report or something?¡± Sergeant Wesker gave him a hard look and said, ¡°We¡¯ve been here like half an hour. I¡¯d barely consider us ¡®in the wilds¡¯. This was nothing. It was barely an encounter. The monster didn¡¯t even have any abilities. What¡¯s there to talk about? Get back in formation, we have a long way to go.¡± Turning on his heel, the sergeant walked off. Everyone fell into position around him, and they continued on their way. Nero tried to wrap his head around the idea that a gigantic mutated monster was nothing to make a fuss over. As they walked through the forest, everyone kept their eyes peeled. This time, Nero had his psychic field spread wide, gently touching everything in order to have an idea of what was around him. His field had grown a lot, and he was rather proud of it. It may not be very impressive to most people, but having a 40ft bubble of perception was enough for Nero to feel like he was making solid progress. While trying to pay attention to his field, he also tried to keep his eyes peeled for anything out of the ordinary. Nero knew that there were animals and beasts who could hide their essence signature, and he didn¡¯t want to be caught off guard. He payed special attention to anything that disrupted his field. Even though they were just walking, Nero still had a great deal to pay attention to, and he was having trouble trying to free up mental energy in order to reflect on what just happened. As time passed, things kept grabbing his attention. He felt birds in the trees along with small bugs flying around. Small animals were scurrying under the bushes. It was uncomfortable to see how his team¡¯s mere presence was upsetting everything. Although they were just walking, everything they did seemed to startle something. Even the ambient essence flows were being disturbed by their passing. Whispering, Nero asked without turning, ¡°Why is everything running away from us?¡± Nick answered, ¡°Do you want things to run toward us?¡± Nero said, ¡°No, that¡¯s not what I meant. I was just -¡± His mouth slammed shut, as midway through his sentence he felt a presence flicker among the tree branches. His eyes snapped up and he saw something shimmer in and out of existence. Sergeant Wesker paused, and whispered, ¡°Did you see something?¡± Nero nodded and said, ¡°Something is in the trees. I think it¡¯s moving around the branches. I can¡¯t really see it, but I kinda felt it with my field.¡± The sergeant asked, ¡°Anyone have eyes on it?¡± Everyone grouped up in a circle, their eyes on the branches floating above them. No one said anything, but they stood ready to receive an ambush. Nero used his field to actively sweep the area, mentally poking anything that caught his attention. Even though he was ready, he was surprised when one of his probes caused a 6ft long large black cat to briefly materialize above them. The beast¡¯s eyes were yellow, but everything else was black. It was too bulky to be a panther, and looked more like a giant fluffy house cat. It¡¯s edges seemed to be a little blurry, and its coat was so dark that it made the shadows seem bright. There was a slight shimmer, and the beast disappeared again. Sergeant Wesker shouted, ¡°Contact left! Camouflaged feline variant.¡± Nero was trying to figure out where it went, when he felt Nick¡¯s psychic field spread out and seemingly ¡®shook¡¯ the ambient essence. Apparently, the beast hadn¡¯t moved, and it shimmered back into view in the same place it had dissapeared. Whatever Nick had done seemed to have disrupted the cat¡¯s ¡®essence cloak¡¯. Nero had never seen anything like that, and he did his best to figure out how Nick had done it. While Nero was busy trying to figure out Nick¡¯s technique, Rose was releasing arrows at the now visible cat. However, the cat seemed to realize it had been spotted and started bouncing around the branches. Nero felt the essence around the cat shift, then watched as the cat vanished. Nero had been staring at it with all his senses, and it looked like this time it had actually teleported. Shocked, Nero felt around for where it had gone. Before he could offer a warning, he felt it appear behind Rose. Spinning around, he was just in time to see her get grabbed by its large jaws. The cat had clamped down on her throat from behind. Everyone turned to help, but it was too late. With a shimmer, the beast vanished along with its prey. Nero was livid, but he also wasn¡¯t fooled. The beast hadn¡¯t teleported, he could feel its presence dragging off his teammate. Stamping a spell-form, Nero shot out a simple foot-long iron spike at where he felt the beast hiding. With a yelp, it reappeared and dropped Rose. Nero¡¯s large spike was stuck in its chest, but Nero saw the spike was already losing cohesion. Before he could cast another spell, Cathleen¡¯s spear flew across the short distance and buried itself several feet into the side of the cat. Even though the beast must have weighed several hundred pounds, the spear had carried enough force to send it flying into a tree. Nick was already running over to Rose¡¯s body. Seeing that the beast was dead, Nero dropped his hands that were about to cast another spell. He slowly walked up to Nick, watching the man cast a healing spell on Rose¡¯s dead body. Nero could see the tissue reform, and in no time at all she was restored. Without missing a beat, Nick switched to a resuscitation spell. Nero hadn¡¯t actually ever seen the spell being cast, even though he had been on the receiving end more times than he could count. With a gasp, Rose sat up. She was shivering, and looked like she had just emerged from an ice bath. Nick leaned over and hugged the young woman. She clung to Nick¡¯s shoulders, her eyes wide in fright. Panting, she started sobbing. Not knowing how to help, Nero just stood there and watched. He felt powerless. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw Cathleen return to watching the forest. Then he saw the sergeant heading over to the beast to retrieve the essence crystal. ¡®We¡¯ve been here for like an hour and half. This place is everything they said it was. Maybe I should have stayed behind the walls and spent some of that money I won. What the hell was I thinking?¡¯ he thought to himself. ¡°Walker, get over here and put this somewhere safe. Then watch my back while I skin this beast. I¡¯m betting this pelt will be worth something,¡± said the sergeant, while holding a small essence crystal out to Nero. Shaking off his fear, Nero went to grab the crystal and keep watch. He tried to follow Cathleen¡¯s advice from before they had left the city, doing his best to ¡®focus on the here and now¡¯. Chapter 93 - Being in shock. Captain Angelton stood in the center of the clearing he and his team had just cleared. He figured a 200 ft radius should be enough. They had chopped down plenty of wood, then burned everything that was left. Now there was nothing but a dirt patch waiting to be filled with a temporary camp. Looking over, he saw the two former hunters, Sergeants Peyton and Jackson, stripping the branches from the trees. Specialist Howard was floating in a lotus position, mentally monitoring the area. Meanwhile, Sergeant Blackwood was setting up the ward stones. With his hands on his hips, he breathed in the scent of the forest. The after effects of the burn were already dispersing, and the smell of growth and danger was thick. He had missed this. It had been years since he was part of a monster-hunting squad. The constant danger had always been something he felt comfortable with, it felt like home. Sergeant Blackwood walked over and said, ¡°The ward stones are placed. All functions seem to be available. You want anything other than the misdirection ward online?¡± Nodding, he replied, ¡°Yes, and an essence cloak. We¡¯ll keep them up for 2 days. We¡¯ll need to be able to work without distractions. Our camp needs to be ready and waiting for the teams to arrive.¡± With a calm, ¡°Yes, sir.¡± Sergeant Blackwood left to help Sergeants Peyton and Jackson prepare their logs. The captain walked over to the floating mage and asked, ¡°Specialist Howard, you see anything I need to know about?¡± Without opening his eyes, the mage replied, ¡°Nothing special. All the teams are doing well enough. No one has run into anything they couldn¡¯t handle. However, Wesker¡¯s team is struggling a little. The two young ones don¡¯t have the levels for prolonged combat. And Nick, the older lord that is, he isn¡¯t suited for combat. But overall, they¡¯re handling it well enough. That Averett woman is picking up the slack.¡± Nodding, Captain Angelton said, ¡°When all of our teams are out of your range, don¡¯t force it. Just keep an eye out as long as you can, then join us.¡± Eye¡¯s still closed, Specialist Howard nodded, and said, ¡°Yes, sir.¡± Captain Angelton walked off, and started plotting the buildings they would be making. Using shield constructs, he cut deep grooves into the dirt designating where the walls would be. They only had a few days to construct a barracks, an outhouse, a shed, and a basic dining hall. Before he had even finished the outline for the barracks, he felt Sergeant Peyton approaching. He looked up to see the man carrying two 12ft tall posts. He offered the man a nod and pointed to where the wall should start. Sergeant Peyton said, ¡°10 ft tall ceilings enough? We usually don¡¯t bother making them any higher.¡± Captain Angelton replied with a stare, ¡°The recommended height is 12 ft.¡± Sergeant Peyton returned the stare and didn¡¯t seem to care. He just stood there waiting for the captain to continue talking. With a smile, the captain gave in. ¡°10ft is fine. You know what you¡¯re doing. Just let me know how I can help. It¡¯s been a few years since I¡¯ve been in the wilds, and I¡¯ll be relying on your expertise.¡± Peyton didn¡¯t smile, or offer any sign that he appreciated the victory. He just nodded in agreement, dropped off one the posts, and then went to plant the one he was still carrying. Over his shoulder he said, ¡°You¡¯re doing fine, sir. Me and Jackson don¡¯t have any complaints. We¡¯ll let you know if you¡¯re doing something stupid.¡± Captain Angleton went back to work and replied, ¡°That¡¯ll be fine, sergeant. I appreciate the help.¡± The command team worked well into the night, keeping the conversations to a minimum. ----- Nero was exhausted. He was sitting on a stump, staring at a small fire, absently chewing on a ration bar. Nick and Rose were with him, and they looked just as tired as he was. Meanwhile, the sergeant and Cathleen seemed ready for more. Looking over, Nero saw Cathleen standing guard, facing the forest with a determined look on her face. She had her spear sticking up from the ground next to her, while she ripped into a ration bar and drank from her canteen. The entire time, her eyes never left the surrounding woods. On the other side of the fire, Sergeant Wesker was doing the same thing. Nero felt ashamed at how well they were handling everything. He had lost count of how many encounters they had survived throughout the day, and it had only gotten worse after night fell. With a thirty hour day, they had spent 6 hours walking after the sun had set. But eventually, the sergeant told them to set up their camp, and get some food. The plan was for each of them to have 4 hours of sleep, then 4 hours of watch. Cathleen would serve the watch with Nero first, then Nick, Rose, and Wesker would take over until dawn. Checking his identity, Nero didn¡¯t like what he saw.
Name Nero Walker Level 11
Race Human Growth 84%
Tier 1 Condition 92%
Age 14 Center 27%
Body 3 Mind 4
Soul 2 Confluence 10
Stars 0 Pillars 1 / 1
He had barely grown, and his center was low enough to make him feel woozy. The familiar pains he had come to associate with a low-center were making it hard to concentrate. All he could do was stare into the fire and try to keep hold of his sanity. He felt like screaming, or passing out. Both sounded like great ideas. Nick spoke up, ¡°Nero, try and meditate. You¡¯re feeling a disconnection from reality right now. Your body is your tether to the material plane, and your center is what holds your aspects of existence in balance. It¡¯s imperative that you keep your identity healthy.¡± Nero turned his head to stare at the man, and said, ¡°Nick, buddy. I love you man, but you gotta stop talking like that. I¡¯m in no mood to hear about all that mystical crap right now. I just want a beer and an internet connection.¡± Rose asked, ¡°What¡¯s an ¡®internet connection¡¯, it sounds kind of like a link? You know there aren¡¯t any hubs out here, right?¡± Nero slumped further into the small impromptu wooden stump he was using as a stool. He said, ¡°Don¡¯t worry about it. Just ignore me.¡± Nick said harshly, ¡°Nero! Stop talking and meditate.¡± Nodding weakly, Nero took a last sip from his canteen, then he put his half eaten ration bar along with his canteen off to the side. Closing his eyes, he fell into his soul space and returned to his path. Everything was a jumble of terrifying images. He felt indistinct, like his body wasn¡¯t really there. Hazy clouds were moving all around, depicting the encounters of the day. The fog was so dark it was almost black, and he couldn¡¯t see the path beneath his feet. Trying not to panic, Nero took a deep breath and focused. He confronted the memory of the bug swarm they had fought. The little bastards were almost a foot long and had stingers that stung like a bitch. He remembered the feeling of being surrounded, and then lashing out with fire. The smell was awful, and the sound of popping exoskeletons put his teeth on edge. Immersing himself in the feeling of being there, he let the fear wash through him. Memory, after memory, he confronted the horrors he had seen. There was the pack of small weasel looking things that Nick called ¡®weedevils¡¯. Wincing, he remembered the wolf pack that required him to regrow his left hand. Then the different cats which occasionally pounced and tried to steal one of their party. And how could he forget about the damn bear/beaver things. They must have fought 20 of them. Sergeant Wesker said that they were probably coming from the spawn point which they should reach tomorrow. Nero faced each memory with a growing sense of stubbornness. He felt the anger in his belly growing. The damn wilds were a nightmare. It was insanity to live next to them. But that was just how the world was outside the walls. It may be a little worse than normal, given the fact that there was a density shift happening, but the danger was everywhere in some form. Nero would have to get used to this being his new normal. No more casual hiking trips, not that he had ever actually taken casual hiking trips before. Nevertheless, he always liked the ¡®idea¡¯ of hiking. He had been glad that the option was there. But that world was now his past. You could be reading stolen content. Head to Royal Road for the genuine story. Now, he was in a world of adventure. Outside of the city, battles were common place, and only the strong survived. He needed to get his shit together. Here there was magic! It wouldn¡¯t be easy, but with a little effort along with his patented refusal to admit defeat, nothing would stop him from achieving his goals. His heart was beating wildly, and he felt like shouting a challenge to the world. He was Nero fucking Walker, and nothing would stop him! The level-up came as the fog in his soulscape cleared. The dark fog seemed to brighten, and then fade away, revealing a healthy forest with shafts of sunlight breaking through the canopy. The light brown cobblestone path was back under his feet, and he could see it leading off into the distance, promising future adventures filled with wonder and magic. Feeling renewed, he opened his eyes to see a smirking Nick, and a stunned Rose. Nick said, ¡°I¡¯m guessing you¡¯re feeling better?¡± Nero smiled and said, ¡°I feel awesome. I¡¯m ready to slap this forest like it owes me money. Before you distract me with whatever it is you want to say, let me spend my star.¡± Closing his eyes, Nero opened his identity and stat panels.
Name Nero Walker Level 12
Race Human Growth 12%
Tier 1 Condition 100%
Age 14 Center 100%
Body 3 Mind 4
Soul 2 Confluence 10
Stars 1 Pillars 1 / 1
Body 3
Base Operative Level Stress
Presence 15 24 3.2
Durability 18 28.8 6.2
Recovery 34 54.4 5.3
Speed 21 33.6 4.8
Adaptability 41 65.6 3.5
Power 20 32 4.6
Mind 4
Base Operative Level Stress
Weight 26 46.8 13.6
Control 29 52.2 21.2
Field 23 41.4 28.6
Precision 39 70.2 34.1
Endurance 46 82.8 39.5
Focus 48 86.4 29.1
Soul 2
Base Operative Level Stress
Size 29 40.6 1.1
Density 101 141.4 0.8
Intensity 76 106.4 0.7
Pressure 27 37.8 0.5
Harmony 24 33.6 15.3
Adaptability 270 378 0.3
Nero already had a plan, and he was going to stick to it. He was going to throw one more star into his mind, then keep at least 5 levels between his confluence and his highest stat. Nero had a theory that his ability to handle having low-center levels was due to his high confluence in relation to his other stats. It was getting harder to handle having anything under 30% of his center since he started growing his stats. It may be a waste, but he didn¡¯t want to end up like most people. Nick had told him that people usually started feeling like crap with anything under 50% in their center. Nero had once been down to around 12% and hadn¡¯t felt too bad. He¡¯d have to start putting some stars into his confluence if he wanted to get back to that. But, for now, he needed to increase his mind stat. His level stress was high, but that was probably because of his pillar, and he planned on taking advantage of that. Without any more hesitation, he pushed his star into the mind stat. As usual, he felt his mind expanding. The feeling of understanding was just as amazing as he remembered it being. It felt like he was capable of doing any Sodoku puzzle, dominating any quiz show, pointing out all the discrepancies between the Star Wars movie¡¯s plot points. But the feeling faded all too quickly, and he returned to his usual level of faux-intelligence.
Mind 5
Base Operative Level Stress
Weight 32 64 0
Control 39 78 0
Field 36 72 0
Precision 55 110 0
Endurance 65 130 0
Focus 61 122 0
Nero looked at his numbers with pride. His operative levels were really getting up there. This had to be some kind of record for a level 12. He spread out his psychic field, and felt it reach further than ever. It even felt more ¡®full¡¯. Compared to before, it seemed effortless to conceptualize what he was seeing. Instead of having to concentrate, he could just ¡®know¡¯ where everything was. Even the resolution was better, everything was clearer. Nick said, ¡°Nero, you should lighten your touch. You are broadcasting your position.¡± Shaken out of his thoughts, Nero did as he was told. The world lost a little resolution, but he could still feel everything around him in a large bubble, he guessed it must be over 50ft wide now. He couldn¡¯t affect everything at that distance, but he could still see it. Nick said, ¡°Good, but you¡¯re going to have to work on your control. It¡¯s amazing how fast you¡¯ve grown, but you need to train hard in order to take advantage of your stats. Your skills are probably lagging.¡± Nero offered Nick a glare, and said, ¡°I¡¯m not dealing with skills at the moment. I have enough problems just dealing with stats. I¡¯ll look into those later¡­ probably. I¡¯ll just get better with practice.¡± Holding up his hands in surrender, Nick replied, ¡°Do what you want. I¡¯m just saying that you are fumbling around like a child right now. You need control. Instead of just closing off your field to hide, you need to learn how to use your psychic field while still keeping yourself hidden. It¡¯s not an all or nothing proposition.¡± Nero nodded, and was about to reply when their conversation was interrupted by Rose. ¡°Did you really level again? That¡¯s like 2 levels in less than a week. What are you now?¡± she asked in wonder. Nero offered her a smirk and said, ¡°I¡¯m level 12. Don¡¯t worry about it. I just level fast.¡± Rose seemed too shocked to be offended, or jealous. Just then, Sergeant Wesker walked up and said, ¡°All right, Walker it¡¯s time for your first watch with Averett. Wake us in 4 hours, then you can get some rest. Congrats on your level. Try not to let anything eat us while we sleep.¡± With that delightful pep-talk, the man crawled into his sleeping bag, then laid his shield over his chest. Nero chuckled, but stood up to take over the watch. Nick and Rose gave him a nod, then went to their respective sleeping bags. For a moment, he wondered why they weren¡¯t using tents. Then he remembered the sergeant ordering them to just use their sleeping bags since the weather was clear. Nero¡¯s memory seemed a little fuzzy, he really hadn¡¯t been paying attention for the past few hours. He really needed to up his game. Turning away from the fire, Nero looked into the dark forest and spread out his field to monitor for any threats. He was ready to face the horrors once more, and this time he wouldn¡¯t flinch. There was nothing here he couldn¡¯t handle. At least, that¡¯s what he kept telling himself. Chapter 94 - Being an adventurer. Captain Angelton used a shield construct to hold up the large planks, while Peyton hammered large dowels connecting the planks to the ceiling runners. If they kept up this pace, they should have the barracks finished by morning. The captain couldn¡¯t help but be impressed with Peyton¡¯s agility as he saw the man lightly stepping across the posts that made up the wall. Once they ran out of planks, Peyton jumped down from his perch and flipped the hand-axe he had been using as a hammer over and held it ready for combat once again. The man had said that if he was going to use a tool, then at least one side had to be sharp enough to kill something. The captain had thought the saying was catchy enough to include in the report he was compiling. As they both stared at the nearly finished building, Specialist Howard walked up to them. ¡°Captain, The last team has left my range. If you want me to keep watch on anyone, I¡¯ll have to be actively scrying,¡± he said, as though it was a question. His face blank of expression, the captain replied, ¡°No, that¡¯s fine. The teams are on their own now. Even if you saw something, there isn¡¯t anything we can do from here. From now on, you¡¯re just on perimeter watch. I¡¯m assuming you can do that while working on the camp?¡± Nodding, Specialist Howard said, ¡°That shouldn¡¯t be a problem. My passive field is large enough to give us plenty of warning. And from what I can tell, the wards are working fine, nothing is poking around. If anything changes, I¡¯ll let you know. In the meantime, I¡¯ll head over and help Jackson with the lumber.¡± ¡°Very good. We¡¯re almost finished here. Then we¡¯ll get the outhouse dug out,¡± said the captain. As Specialist Howard walked off, he said, ¡°Great. I can¡¯t wait.¡± Adding some anger to his steps, the man started muttering about how much he hated being in the wilds, and how he should be out killing things, not building ¡®crap houses in the middle of nowhere¡¯. Both Peyton and Angelton heard him, and exchanged an amused glance with each other. Peyton said, ¡°You ready for another round?¡± Captain Angelton nodded, and they walked over to collect a few more planks that were ready and waiting for installation. ----- Nero was awoken by Rose. She gently shook his shoulder, and said, ¡°It¡¯s dawn, m¡¯lord. Sergeant Wesker wants to get moving soon.¡± Awkwardly pulling an arm out of his sleeping bag, Nero rubbed his eyes. It took a second for Nero to realize where he was, but he quickly shook off any feelings of drowsiness. Without bothering to fold up his bag or his pillow, he sent them into his personal space and summoned his canteen along with a ration bar. No one seemed to care about fixing up their campsite, or clearing any signs of their presence. So, it only took 5 minutes for everyone to be ready to go. The sergeant didn¡¯t bother with a speech, or any kind of morning greeting, he just said, ¡°Ward¡¯s going down. Everyone get ready.¡± They circled up, facing outward toward the forest. The sun was just bright enough that the visibility wasn¡¯t terrible. He watched as the sergeant walked around the campsite collecting the ward stones. Nero didn¡¯t know how they worked, but he had put it near the top of his research list for when he got back behind the safety of the walls. But now wasn¡¯t the time for questions, so Nero put the mystery of the ward stones out of his mind and focused on the forest. He spread out his psychic field and lightly layered his presence as wide as he could. Unsurprisingly, he sensed several large beasts waiting for them. They must have scented the team¡¯s trail, but couldn¡¯t figure out where they were. Whispering, Nero said, ¡°We¡¯ve got 3 contacts. Two on my side, and one on Nicks. I can¡¯t see what they are.¡± Sergeant Wesker stepped up in front of Nero, and everyone repositioned. Nero summoned his large shield from his personal space. Yesterday, he had discovered the utility of having something to hide behind while casting. It only took a few seconds for the monsters to sense the team, and they converged like a coordinated pack. When they came into view, Nero recognized them. It was the same kind of wolves that had taken his hand the day before. They were the size of mastiffs, but much thicker, and with a lot more fur. Growling, the wolves charged toward the team. Stepping out in front, Sergeant Wesker activated an ability, extending the width of his physical shield. A golden sheen extended several feet from both sides, and he planted his feet to receive the charge. Nero saw that one of the wolves would be out of position, and he decided to do something about it. Even though yesterday sucked, he had learned a lot from the constant combat. In fact, he had gotten very good at estimating how much center he needed to get through an essence field based on how large an area he felt it covered. As his senses couldn¡¯t penetrate an essence field without effort, by not applying any effort, he could map how big the beasts field actually was. He asked Nick how most people did it, and was surprised that Nick couldn¡¯t sense what Nero was talking about. Nero had chalked it up to his overly precise mind stats along with his dense soul. Regardless, it worked well enough. Hiding behind his shield, Nero stepped forward to provide the wolf a target. Peeking over the top, he started casting a large ¡®pebble-blast¡¯ in front of his shield. Psychically, he held himself in place, and increased the pressure on his mage-armor. With his preparations ready, he waited for the wolf to complete its charge. Nero heard the combat start behind him, and the sound of Rose¡¯s bow rang out like a silenced machine gun. He felt an explosion from one of Nick¡¯s spells. Narrowing his focus, he watched the large wolf in front of him pounce. Leaning back, he hid fully behind the shield and braced for the impact. Slamming down into the shield, the wolf¡¯s front paws scraped against the steel, sounding like nails on a chalkboard. Nero felt the heavy beast trying to force him to the ground, but he held his footing with the help of his psychic field. Then he fired his spell point blank into the beast¡¯s chest. As he was already inside the beasts essence field, he felt it trying to disrupt his spell, but he had learned well, and his spell-form was steady and charged. It fired a concentrated blast of marble sized rocks directly into the beast¡¯s chest. Nero felt the wolf reel back in pain, scrambling to back away from the surprisingly dangerous shield. With a grin, he stood up and planted the base of the shield into the ground, while peeking around the side. He saw the wolf whimpering in pain, trying to decide if it was worth continuing the fight. Nero didn¡¯t want to let it escape, only to have to deal with it later, so he carved another spell-form. This time, he created an ¡®ice cone¡¯, or what he lovingly referred to as a ¡®cone of cold¡¯. With a blast, a swirling blast of hungry air shot out, flash freezing anything it touched. Technically, it wasn¡¯t cold air, it was heat essence that was stripping the thermal potential from anything it touched. But effectively, it was a blast of cold. The wolf was hit on its left flank, and its entire front leg was rendered inoperable. It howled in pain, and collapsed. Nero wasn¡¯t a sadist, and immediately drew his sword while dismissing his large unwieldy shield. He carefully walked forward, wary of any last minute tricks. He needn¡¯t have worried, as the beast was in so much pain, it wasn¡¯t paying attention to him any longer. Without any hesitation, Nero stabbed his sword deeply into its neck, then levered it back and forth to ensure the maximum damage. He had learned that if he could kill without a spell, it was better to conserve his center. A sword covered in center was more economical by far. Seeing the beast stop moving, Nero psychically felt its essence field collapse, confirming its death. He pulled his sword free, and turned around to help with the other two wolves, but only met the stares of his teammates. Nick looked proud, and even Sergeant Wesker looked happy with Nero for once. Cathleen wasn¡¯t paying attention, as usual, she was looking around for any other threats. Rose was blushing for some reason, and Nero refused to speculate as to what she had found so interesting. Quickly, and quietly, they collected the essence crystals along with the pelts. In a matter of minutes, they were back into formation and moving forward toward the destination that only Sergeant Wesker seemed to know. The story has been stolen; if detected on Amazon, report the violation. Nero spread out his field to search for enemies, while keeping his eyes peeled on his assignment. For the first time since coming into the wilds, Nero was starting to feel like he was an actual adventurer. He did his best not to think about it, and concentrated on the here and now. They continued forward at a solid pace, not too fast, but definitely faster than a normal walking speed. As time went on, Nero did his best to copy Cathleen¡¯s walk. She seemed to step lightly, never breaking any sticks, or causing any noise. It was like she was gliding through the forest, rather than walking. She didn¡¯t bob up and down, just kept her body steady while sliding forward. Her feet barely crossed, and she moved ¡®sideways¡¯. It was hard to copy, but Nero did his best. He hadn¡¯t really paid attention yesterday, but now he could see how she really belonged out here. Everything about the woman was comfortable in the wilds. In the city, she always looked stressed, or at least bothered. But here, surrounded by danger, her shoulders weren¡¯t tense, and her demeanor was calm. Nero found it beautiful, like watching a panther stalking through the brush. As she was the only one he could see, he could only imagine how Nick and Rose were doing. He wasn¡¯t going to turn around to look, as he had a job to do. And today, he would do it well. He wouldn¡¯t make mistakes, and he wouldn¡¯t have to watch anyone die again. The memory of Rose having her throat ripped out was still bothering him, and he didn¡¯t think he¡¯d ever forget it. Luckily that was the only fatality they had suffered, but one was more than enough. As they went through the forest, they fought more engagements. Nero had gotten better at identifying threats, and Nick kept complaining about how Nero shouldn¡¯t be wasting his center. Nero didn¡¯t have the heart to tell the man that he wasn¡¯t really using his center. His psychic field was easy to use as long he didn¡¯t actively DO anything with it. Nero had a theory that it had to do with his soul intensity. He knew that was normally one of the lower stats for most people. Typically, it only grew when a psychic field was stressed. It became important when a mage got up there in levels. It took a lifetime to increase, and a star would only usually raise it by a point or two. But Nero started with a huge lead, and he didn¡¯t plan on squandering it. His body was made to suffer level stress, and every star would grow his stats if he was careful. Rather than wasting stars at level stresses around 5 or 10 like most people, he could afford to wait. Nero could conceivably have level stresses in the 30s¡­ consistently. He was only now realizing how ridiculous that was. By the time he was level 50, he would be a monster. Nero had plenty of time to think while they walked. The intermittent encounters seemed much easier today, but Nero did his best to not let down his guard. Soon enough, they would start getting close to the spawn point, and then there would be monsters aplenty. They moved in silence, no one speaking except to call out threats. In a way, the experience served as a great bonding exercise. They got to know how each person would react. Cathleen would always take a second to allow others to engage, then destroy whatever she targeted. Rose would pepper her targets with her never-ending supply of arrows. Nick would distract and damage. Sergeant Wesker would put himself between the monster and the team, and Nero would act as a sweeper. It was surprising how often Nero ended up tanking things behind his 4ft tall tower shield. He didn¡¯t have any trouble hiding behind it, as he was only around 5¡¯ 4¡¯¡¯. Nero had named it the ¡®portable wall¡¯, and he planned on having that painted on the front of it when he got back to Dorchester. On they went, killing everything that came near them. As time passed, Nero¡¯s bag of essence crystals filled, and their coordination improved. Around 14:00 Sergeant Wesker called a halt for lunch. Like a well oiled machine, they broke into their assigned tasks. Nick went to clear a fire pit, while Cathleen stood in the center along with Rose, watching the forest for threats. The sergeant walked a 10ft perimeter and placed the ward stones. Nero followed behind him, charging the stones. It was incredibly easy, and it barely took any center. All he really had to do was activate them, then they pulled in essence on their own after being ¡®asked¡¯ to start with his center. Before long, they were sitting around a small campfire, watching Nick warm up some stew. Nero had pulled out his water barrel, so it could refill itself. No one spoke, and they just reveled in the temporary peace. Even Cathleen seemed to drop her guard a little bit. Nero broke the quiet atmosphere by asking, ¡°Hey Sarge, how do you know where we¡¯re going? I know how to generally sense a direction, but you seem to know exactly where we¡¯re going.¡± Nick was about to say something, but Nero pointed at him and said, ¡°Don¡¯t tell me to read the damn packet. I¡¯ll get to it tonight.¡± Turning back to the sergeant he said, ¡°Well?¡± Showing a rare smile, the sergeant sipped his soup from his cup, then said, ¡°It¡¯s not terribly difficult. There are coordinate markers on the map in your packet. Our route was scouted, more or less. There are essence markers that we can follow, along with a general sense of ¡®where you are¡¯ given to you by the world. You just need to feel for them. But it¡¯s easier if you use one of these. They¡¯re called direction-finders.¡± He then pulled out a small black orb, which looked to Nero like a magic eight-ball. Sergeant Wesker saw Nero staring at it with some curiosity, so the sergeant tossed it over the fire. Nero deftly caught it with his psychic field, and brought it over to his hands, while setting aside his canteen and cup of soup. Holding it, Nero could feel the enchantment trying to connect with him. Opening himself up, he felt the little ball tell him which direction several things were. It was like a feeling being implanted, rather ¡®felt¡¯. He knew which direction the spawn point they were heading toward was, and approximately how far away they were from it. Then back toward where they came from, he could sense the command camp, which was quite the distance from their current position. Then he felt Dorchester, which gave him a feeling of ¡®home¡¯. The feeling was really odd. It was like following a hidden trail with a defined end point. Like if someone told you directions, and you mentally took the route imagining what you¡¯d see along the way. Nero disconnected from the orb and tossed it back to the sergeant who immediately placed it in a pouch hidden behind his tabard. Nero looked off into the distance, and he could almost ¡®hear¡¯ the echo of the beacons. While he was really just staring at the trees not 5 ft from him, his mind was searching for that feeling. It was hard, but he could almost sense it. He reached out and tried to feel it¡­ ¡°Nero! Stop that,¡± Nick hissed. Nero¡¯s concentration broke and he turned to Nick. ¡°What?¡± he asked with some annoyance. Nick gave Nero a stern look, and said, ¡°You just tried to mentally scry. That takes a lot of control, and a lot of center. It¡¯s not easy to reach out like that. You should start small if your going to practice scrying.¡± Nick then muttered about ¡®stupid prodigies¡¯, and the general insanity of Nero. Sergeant Wesker asked quietly, ¡°You¡¯re telling me that Walker can scry? Can you?¡± Nick looked affronted. He said, ¡°Of course I know how to scry. And he had no idea what he was doing, he was spilling his center like an idiot. If I let him continue, he¡¯d be dead in a few minutes, lost into the ether like a moron.¡± Cathleen asked, ¡°Then why haven¡¯t you been scrying for us? We could use the intelligence on what¡¯s in front of us.¡± Nick was obviously getting angry, and said, ¡°Because it¡¯s a waste of center. If we were in a tower with a scrying aid, there wouldn¡¯t be a problem. Why do you think we built the damn things. But you can¡¯t just go around scrying everything. It¡¯s sending your mind into the ether to ride the essence flows. Do you think that¡¯s easy! The fact that he can do it is completely ridiculous. Forget about it.¡± Nervously, Nero opened his identity to see how bad he had messed up.
Name Nero Walker Level 12
Race Human Growth 12%
Tier 1 Condition 100%
Age 14 Center 82%
Body 3 Mind 5
Soul 2 Confluence 10
Stars 0 Pillars 1 / 1
With a sigh, Nero realized that his brief excursion into the ethereal plane had taken around 10% of his center. Either he was doing it wrong, or he needed a lot of careful practice before he tried again. Instead of rejoining the conversation, Nero ate his food, and closed his eyes to center himself like Specialist Howard had taught him. It didn¡¯t work as well outside of his soulscape, but this way he didn¡¯t have to completely disconnect himself from reality, and it was a fast way to recover some center while he had a chance. His senses were spread out, and he absently lifted his cup of stew as he mentally brought himself back into focus. His companions voices faded away, and Nero immersed himself in his meditation. A shout of alarm from Rose caused his eyes to snap open. Right in front of him, he saw Cathleen tipping back with an arrow embedded in her eye. To his left he saw Nick shimmer then a large spike of dark ice appeared skewering his chest. Nero froze in confusion as Sergeant Wesker jumped to his feet and shouted, ¡°Ambush, Get to t-¡± Then Nero watched as a dark figure appeared behind the sergeant. Nero couldn¡¯t really understand what he was seeing. But when two sword points erupted from the sergeant¡¯s chest, Nero knew the figure wasn¡¯t an illusion. Blood spurted from the sergeant¡¯s mouth, and his entire body was lifted up into the air, then thrown off to the side. The dark figure seemed to vanish, like he became so out-of-focus that he actually disappeared. Rose was screaming, and Nero felt the world lurch. The illusion was everywhere, it was like an overlay was put over reality. Yet, he saw what was really happening, but he also saw his companions vanish, and nothing made sense. It had only been seconds, and almost everyone was dead. At that realization, Nero¡¯s hesitation vanished like a candle being blown out, and in its place was only anger. He stood up, and furrowed his brow while watching Rose run off into the forest. The arrows from the hidden archer, which had been intended for Rose, were flying past her former seat. ¡®OK. Rose either knew this was coming, or her reflexes are crazy. Either way, someone¡¯s about to get a plasma lance shoved up their ass,¡¯ Nero thought to himself, then prepared for some serious ultra-violence. Chapter 95 - Fight for your right to rez. Jennings sat in his comfy chair, sipping an iced tea. He was currently maintaining two holographic screens on the wall. One showed Nero¡¯s party setting up their campsite, while the other followed the hunters who had been contracted for the assassination. He had to admit, he was impressed with their coordination. Without taking his eyes from the screen, he said, ¡°You know, this was actually a really good plan. They accurately predicted the area their target would make camp, while leaving plenty of adaptability in their plan. Then, their mage did a masterful job handling the misdirection ward. And most importantly, they chose their initial targets well. If they can get close enough without being detected, their plan might actually work.¡± Mage-adept Newbanks was standing behind Jennings, watching the screens from over his shoulder with a serene expression on her face. She calmly asked, ¡°Aren¡¯t you going to do something? I thought you came to Dorchester to watch over the young man?¡± Jennings just shrugged, then took another sip of his iced tea. He threw his legs up onto his desk, and leaned back into his chair. The show would be starting soon. He said, ¡°It¡¯s important not to interfere in the little lord¡¯s development. This experience has been good for him. He¡¯s been a little too casual with his life. Maybe losing some people close to him will be just what he needs. Not to mention, I also really want to see how he handles it.¡± Newbanks gently scoffed, then said, ¡°His enemies had his route, time to plan, a detailed dossier on the entire team, and a mage relaying his team¡¯s position in real time. I¡¯m not sure he¡¯s going to survive this without your intervention. You may have let this go too far.¡± Jennings shook his head, as though the very thought of Nero dying was impossible. ¡°I¡¯m not too worried. He¡¯s spent the last week learning how to rebuild his body. If his center holds out, he should be fine. It¡¯s not easy to kill a healer.¡± As Jennings finished his thought, the archer on one of the screens fired an arrow. Moments later, they watched it pierce Ms. Averett¡¯s head on the other screen. Both Newbanks and Jennings showed surprise, as abilities which could allow arrows to de-materalize, then re-materialize were rare. The arrow had passed through trees like they weren¡¯t there, then solidified right before it struck its target. Jennings hadn¡¯t expected that, and muttered, ¡°Huh. Well that might be a problem.¡± As they watched the little lord¡¯s party being taken out, one by one, Newbanks responded, ¡°Has anyone told you that thinking you know everything is a character flaw?¡± Jennings face took on a frown, but he didn¡¯t bother to respond. He just sat in silence and watched the fight play out. ----- Nero¡¯s senses clamped down on the ambient essence, almost ripping the control away from whomever was projecting the illusion. Even though the visual overlay stayed, Nero managed to pierce the illusion with his psychic field, and he felt the empty spaces which most likely contained the soon-to-be dead men. He felt an arrow enter his field when it ripped through his control. Somehow, the arrow was disrupting his psychic field, and he threw himself to the side to avoid getting hit. Unfortunately, the arrow seemed to slightly curve, and it struck him near his shoulder. Nero didn¡¯t even flinch, he had felt worse pain in the training fields of Dorchester. Coming up from a roll, he summoned ¡®the wall¡¯ and hid behind the shield. His senses couldn¡¯t find the archer, but he could track the other two. Not wasting a second, he ripped the arrow out and stamped a healing spell. As the seconds passed, he figured the archer was repositioning while the man who had killed Sergeant Wesker started creeping forward. Nero peeked around the shield, and saw that the man was still being hidden by the mage who was hiding among the trees. They must not realize that Nero could see through the illusion. Returning behind the shield, Nero tried to make a plan. He didn¡¯t have much time before his companions were really dead. If he could end this quickly, there was a chance he could save them. The spell-form for resuscitation was complicated, but he was relatively sure he could do it. Pushing aside his worries, he forced himself to focus on the fight. As the seconds passed, he watched the man approach slowly, probably trying not to make any noise. Nero felt the pressure building and debated how he wanted to handle this. Deciding that the man with the swords was the bigger threat, he started carving a spell-form he was particularly fond of. Nero had a lot of practice casting in front of his shield, and now he put that practice into use. But, he¡¯d have to be careful to release the spell while seizing the center. He couldn¡¯t allow the other mage to interfere. The swordsman seemed to sense the spell forming, and rushed forward, abandoning his attempts at stealth. Nero fired his spell, and a large burst of marble sized iron balls shot out at knee-height. As the spell went off, he clamped down as hard as he could, fighting for control over the ambient essence. Nero felt the mage respond by firming his mental grip, and it only took him a moment to reach equilibrium again. Yet, that moment spelled doom for the swordsman. Nero psychically watched the man¡¯s legs get ripped to shreds, and he heard the man scream in pain. Fifty marbles shot out in a cone-like shotgun blast must have hurt. Nero snorted, and muttered, ¡°What a little bitch.¡± Figuring that the archer would soon be a problem, Nero pulled ¡®the wall¡¯ back into his personal space and ran directly toward the mage. He reinforced his mage armor, while reaching forward mentally. The mage was carving a spell-form Nero had never seen before, and Nero wasn¡¯t about to let him finish it. Covering the distance quickly, Nero felt more arrows ripping through his field. Instead of trying to dodge them, he decided to be clever. He summoned one of his little bucklers from his personal space and tried to throw it toward where he sensed the arrows coming. Instead of trusting his aim, his plan was to mentally hold the shield and place it in front of the arrows. It was barely out of his hands when the first arrow hit the shield. Immediately, his control was disrupted and the shield was knocked out of the air. Grimacing at his failed gambit, he felt the second arrow slam into his left lung through his chest. He felt his mage armor ripple and try to reform. His mage-armor had done nothing to stop the arrow. ¡®Well, that didn¡¯t work,¡¯ he thought, but he still did his best to stumble forward intending to close the distance with the mage. Unfortunately, the arrow had slowed him enough for the mage to finish the spell-form. Nero¡¯s eyes widened as he felt an ice spike launch toward him like a javelin shot from a cannon. He was too close to do anything, and the spike connected with his gut. Nero¡¯s forward momentum was completely reversed and he flew back toward where he started from. ¡®This is not going well,¡¯ he thought. He was no stranger to pain, and he could still function, albeit poorly. When he finally stopped rolling, he summoned ¡®the wall¡¯ again. He needed to regroup. Sitting up, he tried to get his legs in behind the shield, but he didn¡¯t make it in time. His calf sprouted an arrow and Nero grimaced in pain. He had a 3 foot long ice spike in his gut, an arrow in his chest, and now he had been hobbled. He felt the mage trying to circle around, while the swordsman was crawling off toward the trees. He still couldn¡¯t locate the archer, but he knew they were still out there. Coughing up blood, he ripped out the arrow in his chest, and tried to cast a heal to close the wound. His spell-form worked fine, but the ice-spike in his belly seemed to disrupt the healing energies. It looked like he¡¯d have to deal with the ice-spike before anything else. His hands were trembling, and he was starting to feel weak, but he managed to take hold of the spike. Fighting through the pain and dizziness, he tried to pull it out. But it had pierced him through the stomach, and there was almost no leverage. It was like his body was clamping down on the construct. ¡®It¡¯s a CONSTRUCT,¡¯ he angrily thought to himself. Changing tactics, his mentally reached out to the spike and ripped the control away from the mage who cast it. As it was inside him at the time, he had no trouble taking it over, and then promptly dismissed it. When the spike vanished into the ether, his body nearly emptied through the hole it left in his stomach. Nero felt a lurch, and he nearly passed out. Forcing himself to hold on, he cast the healing spell that had become second nature by this point. Feeling his body re-knitting itself back into place, Nero focused everything on pulling in as much essence into the spell-form as possible. It normally took some time to fix basic injuries, but rebuilding organs wasn¡¯t what it was meant for. Nero felt the chest wound close along with his abdomen muscles and the skin. He knew it wouldn¡¯t be enough. So, he redoubled his efforts and tried to carve a second spell-form which was meant to heal internal injuries. He lost focus on the mage, but he managed to finish the spell. If you spot this narrative on Amazon, know that it has been stolen. Report the violation. He felt the wounds heal, and he reveled in the bliss associated with the absence of pain. Keeping hold of the spells, he reached down and ripped out the arrow from his calf. In real time, he watched the wound seal itself. Releasing the standard heal spell, he kept the internal healing spell running while spreading out his senses to find where the mage had gone. ¡®Uh, oh,¡¯ he thought, as his head whipped toward where the mage was standing. The man was carving another spell, standing not 10 ft from Nero with a clear sight-line to his position. The bastard wasn¡¯t even hiding behind a tree, the man obviously thought Nero was already done for. While it was true that Nero was injured, and that his mage-armor was down, and up until now he hadn¡¯t really done much, Nero was still furious at the man¡¯s disrespect. Reclaiming what he could from the internal healing spell, he focused all his mental energy on the mage. As the man was only 10ft away, he was within Nero¡¯s control range. Every bit of his control slammed into the ambient essence. Like a pissed off mother at a department store, he gripped the essence by the neck and forced it under his control. Then Nero watched the man stumble like he got hit in the head with a baseball. Nero¡¯s control over the area was absolute, and he stamped a simple ¡®iron spike¡¯ spell-form and fired. The spike flew true and buried itself in the mage¡¯s head. The man¡¯s essence shield hadn¡¯t been enough to overcome Nero¡¯s construct. He knew that he only had one shot, and Nero hadn¡¯t taken any chances. He had made sure that his construct was chock-full of his center. Before he could celebrate his victory, he felt another arrow ripping through his field. Rather than try anything fancy, he just let himself fall over. He saw the arrow fly above him and slam into the back of ¡®the wall¡¯, knocking it over. Nero knew that he was in trouble, and there didn¡¯t seem to be any quick solutions. Without any better options, he rolled toward ¡®the wall¡¯ and grabbed hold of the handle, then he kept rolling. As he flopped over, he took the shield with him. As he landed on his side, he felt two arrows slam into the shield, one after another. He could see the tips penetrate his shield and the arrow heads were inches from his face. Eyes wide with panic, Nero pulled in his legs and tried to reposition. This archer was really pissing him off. Temporarily safe behind his favorite shield, he expanded his field as far as possible trying to find the son of a bitch that had been treating him like a pin-cushion. Not finding anything, Nero tried to think of what he could do. He knew the archer had some way to imbue arrows with the ability to overcome essence-shields and disrupt his control over the ambient essence. At least he didn¡¯t have the mage to worry about any more, so he wasn¡¯t fighting anyone for control. He felt another arrow coming in from his right, and he spun the shield to receive it. It slammed into the shield penetrating several inches, right below the handle. He had felt the trail it had made through his field. Could he use that somehow? Staring at the arrows jutting out through his shield, Nero cocked his head. The archer must be imbuing their center into the arrows. It¡¯s either an ability, or some spell, but they must be making a connection. Nero mentally probed the arrows, and felt a presence lingering on them. Smiling widely, he thought, ¡®I got you now you son-of-a-bitch.¡¯ Reaching out like he did with the sergeant¡¯s magic eight-ball, he tried to follow the connection through the arrow. He did his best to narrow his focus, and just gently ride the essence trail. He felt part of his mind fly through the trees, chasing the archer. In seconds, he saw them. They were flitting through the trees, running in a wide circle, trying to get into a new firing position. Suddenly, they stopped, then fired another arrow. Nero felt it coming a second after it had left the bow. He spun the shield to receive it then he felt it pierce his shield. This time, it penetrated almost a full foot before it stopped. Either the archer was getting stronger, or ¡®the wall¡¯ was failing. But Nero wasn¡¯t worried, because he now ¡®knew¡¯ where they were. He kept the sense of direction, but let the image fade away. It was like he was holding the connection with two mental fingers rather than his whole hand. Narrowing his eyes, he prepared. Reaching out, he pulled in all the essence he could and created an essence-shield that was stronger than any he had ever made. He felt it vibrating above his skin, and it nearly took all his concentration to keep hold of it. He waited for another arrow, and when he felt it enter his field, he release ¡®the wall¡¯ and rolled to the side. As the arrow ripped through ¡®the wall¡¯, knocking it down, Nero was already rolling to his feet. He headed straight toward the archer, running as fast as he could. All he could see were trees, but he knew they were out there. He could still feel the connection he had made. Narrowing his psychic field, he extended it in front of him like a sonar wave. Nearly a 60 ft cone of tightly controlled essence paved his way through the forest. He nudged branches out of his way, or just mentally ripped apart anything which would slow him down. The forest¡¯s essence seemed to try and fight back, but Nero¡¯s control was strong enough to act like a wedge. He felt an arrow breach his field, and he altered course accordingly. The arrow tried to bend, but Nero was moving too fast. Through his field, he saw it slam into a tree right next to him. Nero was closing the distance, and he was ready for this to end in blood. Seconds later, he saw them through his field. They were close enough for Nero to pinpoint their exact location, and he smiled with anticipation. Another arrow fired, and Nero altered course again, this time to his right. The archer could apparently see Nero well enough to respond by running in the opposite direction. Grimacing in annoyance, Nero realized he was running out of time. He felt like an invisible clock was running down and he needed to end this encounter before time ran out. The archer was faster, but Nero didn¡¯t have to dodge around bushes or low hanging branches, as he just used his psychic field to clear the way. Yet, he couldn¡¯t close the distance. Every time he started to gain on them, they would just fire an arrow and then run the direction opposite from his dodge. Nero needed a plan. With a mental chuckle, he decided to try his initial plan but with a twist. As he ran, he pulled out another small buckler, but this time, he imbued it with his center. He made a literal ¡®essence-shield¡¯. ¡®Let¡¯s see them shoot through this,¡¯ he thought. If he understood how their ability worked, then turning his shield into a solidified construct should counter it. He doubted an archer had better control over their center than he did. Soon enough, another arrow was launched. This time Nero didn¡¯t dodge, he just pushed his shield out and met it head on. He held his breath as the arrow slammed into his small buckler. The sound of wood shattering nearly made him stumble, but he kept moving forward. Looking at the shield, he saw that it was perfectly fine. Smiling wickedly, Nero realized that it must have been the archer¡¯s arrow that had exploded. Nero lowered his shoulders, pumped his legs, and closed the distance. The archer fired more shots, but Nero could feel them coming and either hopped over them, or met them with his shield. Second later, he saw the archer with his actual eyes. Their black outfit didn¡¯t hide them as well as they hoped. Like a freight train, Nero barreled forward, intent on ending this quickly. Seeing that they had been discovered, and realizing that this was going to end in close combat, the archer put their bow in their personal space, and summoned two thin swords. While Nero was only 20 ft away, they dropped into a combat stance and prepared to meet his charge. Nero had no intention of fighting with someone who could probably kick his ass, so he did what he always did. Without breaking stride, Nero stamped an ¡®iron spike¡¯ spell-form, while also carving a small ¡®lightning-bolt¡¯ form. Then, he slowed to a walk before he got too close. The archer saw him approach, panting after the chase. They took a few steps forward and brandished their weapons. When they were only a few paces from Nero, they stopped. Nero heard the archer, which turned out to be a woman, say, ¡°Well, it seems that you were mo-¡± Nero fired the ¡®iron spike¡¯ he had prepped. He wasn¡¯t surprised to see them dodge to the side, gracefully avoiding the spike. But while they were in the air, committed to moving to their right, Nero fired his lightning bolt. Before she could even finish her dodge, his spell ripped through her essence field and slammed into her chest. Nero didn¡¯t waste any time and started stamping more ¡®iron spikes¡¯. The archer had taken the spell in her chest, but survived. She rolled to her feet and started to say, ¡°Tha-¡± but she was interrupted by an iron spike to the face. Before she even hit the ground, Nero had hit her twice more. Looking calmly at the body only 10ft away, Nero slowly walked up. He mentally checked to make sure the archer was really dead. Happy with what he found. He took a moment to enjoy his victory. Then the thought of his companions lying dead back at the camp doused his enthusiasm. Turning on his heel, Nero left the archer¡¯s body and sprinted back toward the camp. He wasn¡¯t an idiot, and he had made sure he hadn¡¯t gotten lost. In fact, the trail he had ripped open during the chase was easy to follow. Only a minute or two later, he broke through the trees and saw what was left of the camp. The entire fight had taken maybe five minutes, and he was confident that he had made it back in time. But before he could start bringing back the dead, he had to deal with the swordsman who had propped himself up against a tree. Nero could see the man was currently applying a tourniquet to his legs. The man looked up from behind his black mask, and Nero stared at him with an evil smile. ¡®Well, what am I going to do with you?¡¯ he wondered. Chapter 96 - Bring out your dead. Vera Salvatore-Verena was not happy. She didn¡¯t appreciate having to deal with problems in person. It had taken years, but she had cultivated agents that should have been capable of handling things like this. She walked quickly through the hall, her two armed bodyguards walking a step behind her. Vera didn¡¯t bother to glance at the bureaucrats clinging to the walls, looking on in fear. As a group, she and her bodyguards were sufficiently intimidating, and everyone had cleared the way without issue. Seeing her destination, she waved her hand while using her authority to override the door lock. The two tall doors swung open, and she stalked into the conference room. She locked eyes with the man at the head of the table, and was pleased to see his anger openly displayed. An angry enemy made mistakes. Stopping at the foot of the table, she said, ¡°Why haven¡¯t the warehouses been transferred? Is it a matter of incompetence, or is it sabotage?¡± The man at the head of the table was the director of Bevin Industries, Lord Clifton. Through his late father, his family was a branch house of House Bevin. And he had served House Bevin for over 40 years. That was until two days ago, when House Walker had purchased Bevin Industries. But Vera¡¯s spies believed his loyalties were still with his former masters. Lord Clifton¡¯s eyes were hard as he stared at House Walker¡¯s proxy. He said, ¡°It will take time to accurately assess the inventory. Until the audit is completed, the warehouses still belong to House Bevin.¡± Vera smiled cruelly, and said, ¡°House Walker has purchased them. The contents were included in the price. You, as the director of operations, were given copies of the sale. For you to sit in that chair, and defend the interests of another house, is more than enough evidence to demand a hearing in front of the Economics Disciplinary Board. Are you stalling, so your agents can continue emptying the warehouses of valuables?¡± Lord Clifton shot to his feet, and slammed his hands on the table. He shouted, ¡°How dare you! Do you have any idea how long I¡¯ve been in this chair? I am the director of Bevin Industries, and I will run it for House Walker with the same professionalism that I gave to House Bevin for the past 50 years. Everything is proceeding within the confines of the law, and you would do well to watch your words. I may take insult at your allegations,¡± His voice carried a warning and threat as he finished. Vera¡¯s cold eyes met his and she replied, ¡°Considering you have only been in that chair for 47 years, I¡¯ll make my own determination as to your competence. Clearly your attention to detail is lacking. You are obviously stalling the transfer of ownership, and I don¡¯t think you have the intelligence to plan this on your own. Who are you working for? Lord Bevin is already running, so who holds your leash now?¡± Furious, Lord Clifton shouted, ¡°That¡¯s it! I demand satisfaction! I formally declare a challenge on the grounds of your slander! After I beat you, I want a formal apology from you, along with one from House Walker.¡± He was pointing his finger across the table, nearly foaming at the mouth in anger. The very thought that some commoner would be spouting lies in his presence was too much for him to stomach. He would show her that he wasn¡¯t the kind of man who would be pushed around. Vera smiled evilly, and said, ¡°One hour at Arena 3. I already have the location booked. As the recipient of the challenge, I set the conditions. I demand a duel to soul-death. If you win, House Walker will offer a formal apology, and you¡¯ll receive my death tithe. But when I kill you, your house belongs to me. As the wife of a trial initiate, I declare this a House Challenge.¡± Lord Clifton froze in place. What kind of mad-woman would demand a duel to soul-death? And hadn¡¯t her husband left house Salvatore? When had he started the trials? What the hell was going on? Vera watched Lord Clifton¡¯s face slip from anger into confusion, and then into panic. She smiled widely, then said, ¡°One hour at Arena 3. I¡¯ll be waiting.¡± She turned on her heel and walked off into the hallway, closing the doors after herself with a wave of her hand. Her silent bodyguards followed along, staring down anyone who looked at them. When they finally got back into their carriage, one of the bodyguards asked, ¡°I don¡¯t understand. You know that he was planning to hide assets through the paperwork transfer. He was siphoning employment contracts and loan payments. I was there when your agents reported their findings. They didn¡¯t say anything about the warehouses. How did you know about them?¡± Vera just glanced at her bodyguard, and said, ¡°Lord Clifton didn¡¯t do anything illegal with the warehouses. They were all transferred without issue. His anger was completely justified.¡± The other bodyguard said, ¡°So, then why accuse him of something you know he didn¡¯t do? Why not accuse him of what he is actually guilty of doing?¡± Vera responded happily, ¡°Because I¡¯m sure he had a plan for that. He could tie us up in legal proceedings for weeks. Who knows how much damage he could do while we fought for control of the company. Or he might have some other counter that I¡¯m not aware of. It is never a good idea to attack an opponent directly. This way, I could accuse him of something he could feel righteous defending against. It caused him to force a confrontation. Now I can remove him quickly, then get back to work. So, instead of having to waste weeks at the Tower of Law, sitting through tribunals, all the while suffering losses as Lord Clifton dismantles the company from within, this way, I¡¯ll just kill him and take over his house. The contracts he stole will return to my control, and I¡¯ll even get paid for the privilege of ending the threat to my business. In short, he crossed me, so I¡¯ll take everything from him.¡± The bodyguards shared a look, then one quietly said, ¡°Damn boss, that¡¯s brutal.¡± Vera smiled, then looked out the window of the cab and said, ¡°No. That¡¯s politics.¡± ----- Nero didn¡¯t want to kill the swordsman in cold blood. Besides, he needed the man to rat out who hired him. But, he had to make sure the man was really out of the fight. As Nero walked up, the man shakily said, ¡°I surrender. You don¡¯t have to kill me.¡± Nero could hear the fear in the man¡¯s voice. But, in a world with healing magic, Nero was wary of a trap. He asked, ¡°Why haven¡¯t you healed yourself?¡± The swordsman was adjusting one of the tourniquets on his legs, and replied icily, ¡°Your constructs are still in my legs. Was it really necessary to make them so hard to dismiss? And aren¡¯t you supposed to be a fresh level 10? How did you do that?¡± Nero didn¡¯t answer. He just kept walking forward. When he was within five feet of the man, he felt the resonance between the little balls of metal he had summoned and his psychic field. The little balls really were still around. ¡®Huh, I might have gone a little overboard there,¡¯ he thought. But Nero knew he didn¡¯t have time for this right now. He had people that were waiting for resuscitation. Staring down at the man, Nero had an idea. If the swordsman couldn¡¯t even figure out how to dismiss the constructs in his legs, he probably wasn¡¯t very talented with magic. So, Nero pulled his sword and coated it with his center, turning it into an essence blade. The man¡¯s face was hidden behind his mask, but Nero could tell he was just waiting for Nero to get closer. Stolen content alert: this content belongs on Royal Road. Report any occurrences. It wasn¡¯t difficult to coat the blade in air and heat essence, making small blue flames dance along the steel. Smiling as cruelly as he could, Nero said, ¡°I¡¯ve just spelled this blade with an explosive charge. If you follow my instructions, you¡¯ll live. But if you pull this blade from the tree, you¡¯ll die.¡± The man cocked his head to the side and replied, ¡°What are you talking about?¡± Nero stalked forward, and raised the fire coated sword. Although the man seemed ready to fight, Nero said, ¡°Don¡¯t move. This will hurt, and you don¡¯t want me to miss.¡± The man still seemed confused, and Nero took advantage of his hesitation. Lunging forward, he slammed his sword forward into the man¡¯s shoulder, pinning him to the tree. The man screamed in pain, and Nero hopped back out of reach. Nero said, ¡°Like I said, if you remove that sword, you die. Just sit there and try not to move. I¡¯ll get back to you in a minute.¡± Giving the man one last look, Nero decided that the man bought his bluff. Turning around, he jogged over to Nick¡¯s body. Looking down, he could see the construct that killed Nick had dissipated, and the massive hole it left was leaking blood and internal organs. Nero held back a retch, and raised his hand to his mouth in horror. The damage was worse than he had feared. Dropping to his knees, Nero went to work. First, he had to fix the body so that Nick¡¯s soul had somewhere to return to. Then, he could cast the resuscitation spell, and hope that Nick¡¯s soul tether was still intact. Firming his resolve, Nero cast the internal healing spell form. He was careful to not waste any more center than was necessary, as he didn¡¯t know how much it would take to bring Nick back. It took almost two minutes before he was able to switch over to the standard healing spell in order to rebuild Nick¡¯s muscles and skin. The spells were familiar, and it was actually easier to fix a body that wasn¡¯t alive. Nero tried not to think about Nick¡¯s absent essence field. Mentally looking over the body with his spells, he decided that it was time to see if his friend was still hanging around. Nero pulled out the book on healing he had in his personal space. He quickly flipped to the chapter covering the resuscitation spell-form. Kneeling next to Nick¡¯s body, Nero stared at the spell which could bring back the dead. Banishing any doubt, he carefully carved the spell-form. When the spell completed, he felt part of his mind launch into Nick¡¯s body. It was similar to the healing spells, but it wasn¡¯t targeting flesh. Instead of seeing the internal injuries, he saw an empty space. Nero had read about this. He needed to find the tether which led to Nick¡¯s soul. Looking around, Nero started to panic. The tether was supposed to be obvious, but he couldn¡¯t see it. Fearing he was too late, he closed his eyes and focused. Delving deeper, Nero reached into Nick¡¯s empty soul space, grasping blindly. ¡®There!¡¯ he thought. Nero saw a small foggy tendril leading off into the dark void. He knew he had to be careful. If he grabbed too hard, he could rip it apart and ensure Nick¡¯s soul-death. Delicately, he took hold of the tether, then funneled his center into the spell-form. The spell pulled essence from the surroundings, and everything rushed into the tether. Nero watched the foggy tendril solidify, then start growing. Smiling, Nero increased the flow. When the tendril reached critical mass, it collapsed. As it shrank, Nero could feel the soulspace filling with Nick¡¯s soul. The feeling of his friend was omnipresent, then Nero was ejected like a bullet casing. Nero fell back, his head ringing. ¡®Did it work?¡¯ he wondered. Coming back to his senses, Nero blinked away the confusion. He sat back up, and looked over at Nick¡¯s body. Like a zombie movie, Nick shot into a sitting position and started hacking. Nero scrambled closer, and started patting his friend on the back. Nick tried talking through his coughs. ¡°What the hell just happened? Did I just fucking die?¡± He was patting his chest, feeling the giant hole in his robes. Nick was covered in blood, and was still as pale as a corpse. Nero didn¡¯t have time to coddle the old man, and simply said, ¡°Yup. But you¡¯re better now. I have other people to bring back, so take a minute, then tell me if I did it right.¡± Nick looked up at Nero, and said, ¡°Huh? What do you mean? Do what right? What are you talking about?¡± Nero shook his head, then patted Nick on the back one more time. He stood up and said, ¡°Just take a minute. I¡¯ll be back soon. And don¡¯t go near my prisoner.¡± Stomping off, Nero went to repeat his performance with Cathleen. The sergeant could wait. Hopefully, he¡¯d get to the man in time. Completely confused, Nick watched Nero walk off. He glanced over, and saw some dead bodies. Then he saw the swordsman with ruined legs propped up against a tree. Performing a double-take, he noticed the sword pinning the man to the tree. ¡®What in the hells is going on?¡¯ he wondered. The last thing Nick remembered was sitting down for lunch. Then there was some pain, then blackness. At the memory of the void, Nick started shivering. That was death. He had died. No matter how many books he had read about the subject, the actual void was something he wasn¡¯t prepared to face. He NEVER wanted to experience that again. Nick reached into his personal space and felt around for his custom flask of iced-tea. When he found it, he summoned it and immediately started drinking. The cool tea washed the blood from his mouth. Looking down, he examined his ruined robes and tried to figure out what had killed him. From the looks of it, he must have been skewered by an incredibly large spike of some kind. He idly wondered how it managed to penetrate his defenses without any warning. While he ruminated, he heard some coughing, then he heard Nero shout, ¡°Wait! It¡¯s me! God dammit woman¡­ maybe next time I¡¯ll just leave you dead.¡± Nick looked over to see Nero sitting on his ass, while pulling out a knife from his chest. Cathleen was hacking up some blood, while trying to stand. Nick started chuckling. She must have reacted to being brought back by stabbing Nero. ¡®That woman is one of a kind,¡¯ he thought. Nick watched as Nero tossed aside the unnecessarily large knife, then nonchalantly stamped a healing spell-form into existence. Shocked, Nick watched Nero heal himself as if it was the most normal thing in the world. ¡®Is he really that good at healing?¡¯ he wondered. Looking over at Cathleen, he watched her stretch. She quickly went through some basic moves, checking her mobility. Nick realized that she had provided Nero plenty of practice, and he shouldn¡¯t be surprised at Nero¡¯s odd familiarity with healing magic. Cathleen looked around, then picked up her spear which had been laying next to her body. She looked around, offered Nick a nod, then narrowed her eyes at the swordsman stuck to the tree. ¡°Why is that one still alive?¡± she asked. Nero had finished healing himself, and stood up. Planting his hands on his hips, he said, ¡°That¡¯s the first thing you say? I bring your ungrateful ass back from the dead, and the first thing you do is stab me. Then you have the audacity to question my actions with the first words out of your mouth? How about you go sit next to Nick and shut up for a minute. I still have to bring back the moron who walked us into a trap.¡± Stomping over, Nero started working on Sergeant Wesker. Cathleen kept her eyes on the swordsman, but walked over to Nick. He was still sitting on his ass, drinking his tea. While keeping her eyes on the subdued assassin, she whispered, ¡°What¡¯s the situation?¡± Nick looked up at the crazy woman, and said, ¡°The situation? I¡¯m thinking it¡¯s pretty obvious that we were ambushed somehow. I have no idea what happened, but Nero seems to have won somehow. Now he¡¯s resuscitating us. I¡¯m guessing that once he¡¯s done with Wesker, he¡¯ll probably start questioning the prisoner that he somehow stuck to a tree. That¡¯s the situation.¡± Cathleen finally looked down at him. She gave him a stare that would stop water from melting. She said, ¡°Are there any remaining threats? Is our misdirection ward still up? Where is Rose¡¯s body? Was she involved in the ambush? How about you put that big brain of yours to work and start filling in the blanks. Or, you could just sit there and let a kid who awakened a few weeks ago do everything for you.¡± Nick grimaced, but forced himself to stand up. Both he and Cathleen turned to see Nero patting a coughing Sergeant Wesker on his back. Nero said something to man, then gave him a final pat on the shoulder. Then he stood up, stretched his back like he had just finished a task which had been a pain in the ass. The young man¡¯s shoulders slumped, and he walked over to Nick and Cathleen. Nero looked at his two companions and said, ¡°Look, I¡¯ve got like 20% of my center left. I feel like shit. You two are in charge.¡± Lowering his voice, he continued, ¡°I told the sword-guy that the sword I used to staple him to the tree was spelled with an explosive charge. If he tries to remove it, it would blow up. I need to rest, so you guys do whatever you think is best.¡± Turning away, Nero went to lay down next to the small fire Nick had started. It was still burning merrily, as the entire encounter had only started around 15 minutes ago. Nero laid down, and tried to put everything out of his mind. Everything hurt, and he just wanted to nap. But instead of getting the rest he believed he so richly deserved, he heard the sergeant shout, ¡°Where in the hells is my direction-finder?¡± Nero¡¯s eyes shot open, and he stared up into the canopy. ¡®And now we¡¯re lost¡­. I should have seen that coming. I really should have stayed in Dorchester and started my t-shirt company,¡¯ he thought sourly. Chapter 97 - Interrogations are formulaic. The sound of the incoming arrow caused Rose¡¯s eyes to snap up from her soup bowl. She looked up just in time to see Ms. Averett¡¯s forehead sprout an arrow. As the woman¡¯s body collapsed, Rose was already moving. She had been trained for situations just like this. Her former teacher, Ulric, had put her through surprise drills many times. At first, she thought the man was a sadist. But over time, she had grown to appreciate his diligence. His words, ¡®Be ready for the situation to change at any time¡¯, had become a core tenant of her life philosophy. A moment ago, she was enjoying lunch, but now she was running for her life. Instead of doing anything fancy, she just raced for the trees. Running away would just expose her back, and make the archer¡¯s job easier. And anyone who could kill Ms. Averett with one shot wasn¡¯t someone she wanted to run toward. So, she made sure to run perpendicular to the archer¡¯s position, while doing her best to keep low. She felt a few arrows fly near her, but didn¡¯t pause or look back. She knew how to reduce the likelihood of being hit. Move fast, be decisive, and head directly to safety. In less than a handful of seconds, she was into the trees and hiding among the bushes. Crawling, she moved around the campsite. She knew she needed information on what was happening. Peaking out from under some foliage, she saw Sergeant Wesker fall forward, seemingly killed by an invisible assassin. Frozen in fear, her eyes darted around, looking for anything out of place. She knew the best way to shatter an illusion was to find the flaws. She saw Lord Walker attempt to fight back. Rose had to admit the little lord could take some serious punishment. She winced as she watched him take an arrow to the chest. He then tried to hide behind that ridiculous shield he always used. The fight seemed to pause, then without warning, she saw the little lord fire that pebble spell he always used. Her eyes widened as she saw a man dressed in black suddenly appear. The spell had turned the man¡¯s legs into ground chuck. Choking back some vomit, she watched the man crawl away. Moments later, the little lord emerged from behind his shield, charging toward the tree line. Rose was shocked, as the moron nearly ran straight toward the archer. She wondered what he was trying to accomplish. As expected, the archer punished him for his stupidity, and then she saw the mage appear. As the fight progressed, she couldn¡¯t help but be impressed with how the little lord kept getting back up. She had known he was crazy, but watching him face certain death with a look of annoyance on his face was terrifying. Somehow, the little lord killed the mage. He actually sent one of those spike spells into the man¡¯s face. Rose gasped in shock at the brutality. But the insane little lord wasn¡¯t done. He shot to his feet and raced off into the forest. She watched in awe as the forest seemed to rip itself apart to get out of his way. All of the sounds of combat died down as the conflict moved farther and farther away. Her heart was racing, but she remained hidden. She could still hear the man with the ruined legs crawling across the forest floor. It was at that moment, a thought occurred to Rose. This must be another attempt on the little lord¡¯s life. Now that the danger had temporarily passed, her brain had started working again. Questions started popping into her head. How many assassins were out there? What were their orders? Would they care about a witness? How the hell was she going to get out of here? Looking over her shoulder, she saw the forest looming. Although she could probably follow the path they had made getting to where they are, it would be better if she avoided any obvious trails. Her eyes snapped back to the campsite, and quickly found the sergeant¡¯s body. As a plan started to take shape, she unconsciously smiled. If there was one thing she was good at, it was surviving. She hadn¡¯t let that noble nonsense kill her in Dorchester, and she wasn¡¯t going to stick around here and end up as collateral damage. As long as that crazy little shit bought her enough time, she had a chance. Firming her resolve, she raced for the sergeant¡¯s dead body. She needed a few things, her weapons, supplies, and most of all, that direction-finder. ----- Nero ignored everything going on around him, and just focused on restoring his center. Instead of dropping into his soulscape, he used the technique Specialist Howard had taught him. The idea was simple. You just breathe in and out, while mentally working backward through your memories. It wasn¡¯t nearly as good as deep meditation, but it was much faster. The most difficult part was trying not to replay moments. The goal was to observe time in reverse. Specialist Howard said that it helped you pay attention to the details, and improved retention of ¡­ something. Nero couldn¡¯t remember the specifics, but he had paid close attention to the process. Nero had once heard the quote, ¡®Details aren¡¯t nearly as important as results¡¯. He didn¡¯t remember who said it, and he was 90% sure that he was remembering it incorrectly, but refused to acknowledge the irony. Step by step, he worked through everything he had gone through, but in reverse. And as time passed, he felt himself becoming more centered. The muscle aches along with joint pains slowly vanished, and his thoughts seemed to clear. It was like a hangover recovery at super-speed. Nero opened his eyes, and sat up from the ground. He still felt some pains in his chest and stomach, and realized that he should probably deal with the patchwork healing job he had done. Checking on his companions, he saw Cathleen standing a few paces behind Nick and the sergeant who were over by the swordsman. Next to them were two bodies, the archer and the mage. He was surprised they had bothered collecting the archer¡¯s body. Nero could hear them talking, but the crackling sound of the fire right next to him made his comprehension spotty. Since Nero didn¡¯t really care what they were talking about, he ignored them. Instead, he crawled over and leaned against one of the small logs they had been using as benches. He pulled out a canteen and took a long drink. The pain in his chest was getting annoying, and he bit back a groan. Carving his internal healing spell, he mentally dove into his body. Normally, he just located the damaged area, and then flooded it with whatever the spell provided. And while he had never half-assed a spell-form during training, when he had been in combat, he had just spammed the spell without caring about the details. Now he was paying for it. It took him a few minutes, but he located the problems. The muscles had healed poorly, and the organs were misshapen. Everything was ¡®almost¡¯ correct, but Nero wasn¡¯t about to go through the rest of his life with a flawed small intestine. With his eyes closed, he painstakingly repaired everything that looked weird. Using his psychic field, he ripped apart the damage portions, then let the spell do its work. He had read that the spell used his ¡®optimal configuration¡¯ for the pattern. There was a lot of technical babble, but Nero knew what they meant. His soul knew what his body should look like, Nero called it his spiritual DNA. This world knew about DNA, and how biology worked. People here had even isolated the genes for different traits, like hair color and skin tone. Studies were done where they had manually changed those sections of a person¡¯s DNA with complicated machines. But in order to make the change permanent, it would require soul surgery. And the only time THAT was legal, was for fixing developmental issues, or chronic conditions. Luckily, changes to the soul required a person¡¯s consent, or acceptance. A person had to ¡®let¡¯ the surgeon into their soul, or it was nearly impossible for the surgeon to accomplish anything. While Nero¡¯s mind wandered, he methodically healed himself. When he finally ran out of things to fix, he opened his eyes and took a deep breath. Standing up, he did some stretches to check his work. Everything seemed in order, but he opened his identity to double-check. Royal Road is the home of this novel. Visit there to read the original and support the author.
Name Nero Walker Level 12
Race Human Growth 26%
Tier 1 Condition 98%
Age 14 Center 62%
Body 3 Mind 5
Soul 2 Confluence 10
Stars 0 Pillars 1 / 1
Well, it wasn¡¯t perfect, but it would have to do. Time and rest would probably fix whatever he missed. Nero closed his identity, then decided to head over to see what his companions were up to. He was still carrying his canteen, and his smile was wide and confident as he sauntered over to the group. As he got closer, the conversation they were having became easier to hear. Nick was standing with his arms crossed, looking very unhappy. He said, ¡°I can track her. I¡¯ve been training with her for the past week. So, I¡¯ve got a pretty good read on her essence signature. But is it really worth it? I think we should just head straight for Captain Angelton. He needs to know what happened here as soon as possible. I am more than capable of finding him through a simple scry. And I think Specialist Howard should be able to feel me reaching out if we get close enough. If we leave soon, I should be able to feel them a little after dark, if we manage to maintain the pace we have been keeping.¡± Sergeant Wesker nodded, then replied, ¡°I suppose that is probably the smart play. But, it just feels wrong to leave Vikander on her own. The likelihood of her surviving without our help is nearly zero.¡± Cathleen was maintaining watch, her eyes scanning the forest. But she still voiced her opinion without even looking at the two men. ¡°She abandoned us. And we don¡¯t know for sure that she wasn¡¯t involved. Someone gave away our position, and considering the fact that we all were targeted, she is the most likely suspect.¡± Nero listened with a smile. This entire world really needed to have some better entertainment. No one was capable of thinking like a villain. Anyone who had watched a spy movie, ANY spy movie, should have realized they had been set up. But just to be safe, Nero figured he should double check with their prisoner. Walking around the group, Nero approached the swordsman. Someone had healed the man¡¯s legs, it was probably Nick, but they had left him still pinned to the tree by Nero¡¯s sword. At first, Nero was surprised to see the man still had his knives, but then he remembered personal spaces and figured out why they hadn¡¯t bothered to search him. He only managed two steps, before he heard Nick ask, ¡°Well, what do you think Nero?¡± Nero turned to face his companions, they were all staring at him. Everyone looked so serious, and Nero felt a little annoyed at their tone. Scoffing, he asked, ¡°Not even a ¡®thank you¡¯? Or how about, ¡®I¡¯m so glad you are so amazing. If it weren¡¯t for you being an un-killable bad-ass, then I¡¯d be dead. If there is anything I can do for you, please let me know immediately. I owe you my life!¡¯ But, I¡¯d settle for a ¡®thank you¡¯.¡± His rant was met with shocked faces from Nick and the sergeant, but Cathleen just smirked. She said, ¡°Un-killable bad-ass, huh? I¡¯m pretty sure I¡¯ve put you down enough times for you to be an honorary dead man. I¡¯d keep that pride in check little lord, it will get you killed.¡± Nero looked at the woman fondly, his smile full of warmth, and said, ¡°If I hadn¡¯t pulled an arrow out of your skull a few hours ago, that might have been intimidating. But now, I just find your insults adorable. I¡¯m so glad that you are the way you are.¡± Nick angrily interrupted their bickering. ¡°We don¡¯t have time for this! We need to decide what we¡¯re going to do. Don¡¯t you realize how screwed we are?¡± he asked in a voice tinged with panic. Nero replied, ¡°Calm down. We¡¯re not screwed at all. I heard you can track Rose. She obviously took the direction-finder because she thought everyone was dead. I doubt she was involved, she¡¯s probably running for her life. But even if we can¡¯t find her, we can still locate Dorchester. That¡¯s where we have to go anyway.¡± Sergeant Wesker spoke up, ¡°No, we need to head to the Captain. He¡¯ll have a camp set up by now, along with a communication crystal. And if there are more assassins out here, he¡¯ll need to know about them as soon as possible.¡± Nero shrugged as if Wesker¡¯s opinion barely mattered, and then pointed at the swordsman. The man was still wearing his black mask, and sitting in silence. ¡°What did my prisoner have to say?¡± asked Nero. Nick replied, ¡°Nothing. When I wasn¡¯t able to resuscitate his companions, he went silent.¡± Nero turned to the man, and smiled. Taking a few steps forward, he looked down at the man. Crouching down, Nero gave the man¡¯s masked face a hard stare and said, ¡°You¡¯re going to start talking. Right now. Or you are going to be helping me answer some questions about how the human body reacts to several of the obscure spells I¡¯ve read about. You understand what I¡¯m telling you?¡± The man squirmed and said, ¡°You can¡¯t do that. That¡¯s illegal.¡± Nero raised an eyebrow and replied, ¡°You just tried to kill us. More importantly, you tried to kill ME. You think I give a fuck about the laws inside Dorchester right now? We¡¯re in the wilds. As long I leave your body for the monsters, who''s to know?¡± The man started looking over Nero¡¯s shoulder, trying to see if anyone would speak up in his defense. Nero just kept the smile on his face, and let the tension build. ¡®This is just like a movie. It¡¯s too bad I don¡¯t have a table full of knives or something, or the fantasy equivalent of a car battery with jumper cables,¡¯ he thought. After letting the swordsman stew for a few seconds, Nero hardened his tone and asked, ¡°How did you know where we were?¡± The man seemed to be debating whether or not to answer. Nero stood up, and walked closer. The man froze, and Nero leaned over to stare directly into the mask. He¡¯d seen plenty of cop shows, and the first thing he had to do was strip the man of his dignity before he¡¯d break. Reaching out quickly, Nero grabbed the man¡¯s face, slamming his head into the tree trunk. Then Nero ripped the mask off his head, and stared into the man¡¯s eyes. Nero¡¯s cold stare burrowed into the man. ¡°I¡¯m going to ask you just one more time. How did you know where we were?¡± The man¡¯s face twisted between panic and terror. His eyes were darting around, looking for help. But Nero reached out and grabbed the man by his chin and forced him to look into his eyes. Stuttering, the man said through squished cheeks, ¡°We were given your route, along with a communication crystal which connected to a mage who was scrying you. We knew where the probable camp sites were, and we just had to wait for you to come to us. Jerry took care of your misdirection ward.¡± Nero pushed the man¡¯s head back into the tree, then took a step back to stare down at him. Now that the man had cracked, he had to develop a rapport with him. Without a partner, he¡¯d have to be both the bad cop AND the good cop. Internally, he thanked the many hours of ¡®Brooklyn 99¡¯ he had watched. The key was to act like a bipolar best friend. It was imperative that the man stay off balance. He crossed his arms and asked gently, ¡°Listen man. You don¡¯t have to die. Let¡¯s start with something simple. What¡¯s your name?¡± The man¡¯s face fell, and he muttered, ¡°Mike. My name¡¯s Mike. I¡¯m so sorry. We never should have taken this job.¡± Then the man started crying. Nero watched, surprised to see a grown man sobbing. ¡®Holy shit. That actually worked? The guy didn¡¯t even ask for a lawyer. I¡¯m really good at this!¡¯ he thought with pride. Chapter 98- Its ok, you can tell me. Sergeant Wesker was not a happy man. This situation was totally unacceptable. His team had been systematically destroyed, and he had been completely outmatched. Never, in all his years, had he been so thoroughly humiliated. The enemies'' plan had been perfect, and if it weren¡¯t for Walker, of all people, his entire team would be dead. Yes, this entire situation was completely unacceptable. Arms crossed in repressed anger, he watched as the little lord emotionally broke the assassin. With a grimace on his face, he forced himself to keep silent. Torture was grim work, but sometimes it was necessary. And it seemed the little lord had no issues getting his hands dirty. Glancing at the sword nailing the assassin to the tree, he thought, ¡®That crazy little bastard stabbed the man into a tree, destroyed his legs, and left him to bleed out. Am I really just going to stand here and watch what he does next?¡¯ Surprisingly, the assassin answered the little lord¡¯s questions without him having to do anything. As the team¡¯s leader, he had been given the most detailed information the army had on everyone he would be leading. So, he knew all about Nero¡¯s mind imprint from a previous life. The report didn¡¯t have much detail, but Wesker could read between the lines; the general had been scrying on the young man. Although it was technically illegal, the safety of Dorchester was paramount. Wesker assumed the general justified the spying as an investigation into a potential threat. It hadn¡¯t felt right at the time, but now the sergeant couldn¡¯t help but think the old man had been on to something. The sergeant couldn¡¯t help but wonder if the little lord had been trained in interrogation during his past life. What else could explain the young man¡¯s flawless performance. Wesker observed the little lord threaten, and comfort the man in equal measure. The longer they talked, the more the man seemed to give up. Sergeant Wesker couldn¡¯t help but ponder the implications as the little lord bent the assassin to his will. ----- Nero hadn¡¯t removed his sword from Mike, and the man was still pinned to the tree. But Nero had given the man a canteen filled with water, along with a ration bar. He had taken a seat on the ground right in front of him, and sat cross legged as if he were completely at ease. Mike was cooperating. Nero¡¯s actions made him feel like he didn¡¯t even have a choice. It was as if Nero knew Mike was out of options. Nero¡¯s face was calm and carried some sympathy as he said, ¡°So it was really all Heather¡¯s idea? I understand what you¡¯re saying Mike, and I can see that you didn¡¯t have much choice. But, you know that I need to find out who her contact was. Without that, I¡¯m not sure how much I can help you.¡± Mike stared at the young lord, his face filled with hope. Quietly he asked, ¡°You¡¯ll really try to intercede on my behalf? Why would you do that?¡± Nero smiled gently, and said, ¡°Look Mike, it¡¯s not like any of this was personal. You didn¡¯t WANT to kill me. You were just doing a job. The nail shouldn¡¯t be blamed for the actions of the hammer. But without knowing who hired you, there isn¡¯t anything I can do to protect you from them. They won¡¯t want loose ends. The moment we get to Dorchester, you¡¯ll be quietly eliminated. I can¡¯t protect you if I don¡¯t know who to protect you from.¡± Mike nodded, and absently took a sip from the canteen with his good arm. He matched stares with Nero and said, ¡°If I tell you what I know, I want your word that you will protect me.¡± Nero wasn¡¯t sure if there was some kind of law or something that dealt with a noble¡¯s word, so he wasn¡¯t about to promise anything. His eyes lost their kindness, and he replied, ¡°Let me be clear Mike. You¡¯ll tell me what I want to know, or I¡¯ll remove your feet and leave you to the tender mercies of the wilds. Don¡¯t mistake my kindness for weakness.¡± Mike shivered at Nero¡¯s threat, and said, ¡°Alright! There¡¯s no need for that. I¡¯ll tell you everything I know about Heather¡¯s contact. Just¡­. Please help me.¡± Nero¡¯s sympathetic smile returned. ¡°Of course, Mike. You help me, and I¡¯ll see what I can do. Now, tell me about the contact,¡± he said. Cathleen was still watching the forest, but Nero knew she was close enough to hear everything they were saying. Meanwhile, Nero could feel Nick and Wesker standing next to each other of to the side, intently watching him interrogate the assassin. Mike dropped his head in defeat, and said, ¡°Heather met the man years ago. Since then, we¡¯ve done work for him occasionally. Normally, it was finding out information, or spreading the rumors he needed people talking about. He always paid well, and he was a great connection to have. He has contacts in the army, the guard, the hunters, and even business connections. Through him, she got us discounts on gear, and we always found out what was happening before anyone else.¡± Nero''s voice was soft. He made sure not to push too hard as he said, ¡°I need a name Mike. You know this has gone too far. He won¡¯t stick his neck out for you. You¡¯re a liability now. All of those contacts that he has¡­ they¡¯re now going to be coming for you. Tell me who he is.¡± Slumped in defeat, and stapled to a tree, Mike whispered, ¡°I¡¯m guessing his son won¡¯t let me slip away. You¡¯re right. It would just be easier to kill me. I¡¯m a dead man.¡± Nero was getting frustrated, but he forced himself to keep calm. ¡°I¡¯m a new noble, Mike. That means I have royal backing. If you are under my protection, no one can touch you. But I need to know who it is I¡¯m up against.¡± Mike whispered, ¡°Blackwood. It¡¯s Lord Blackwood. He¡¯s the one who hired us. I don¡¯t know the details, but Heather said he needed you killed in a way that couldn¡¯t be traced back to him. He provided the plan, and the support. We were supposed to report to his son at your main camp if we ran into any issues. We¡¯re hunters, so us being out here shouldn¡¯t have been suspicious. But, if there were no problems, we¡¯d just quietly return to Dorchester. We were going to dump your bodies into a proto-dungeon a few units from here. There wouldn¡¯t be anything to find. Ideally, no one would even know we were out here at all.¡± You could be reading stolen content. Head to Royal Road for the genuine story. Sergeant Wesker broke the quiet atmosphere. ¡°Gods dammit! This is not good. Lord Blackwood is a consort to the city-lord. Everyone knows that. This is going to be a shit-storm,¡± he angrily hissed. Nero leaned back onto his hands, but kept his eyes on his prisoner. Questions were racing through his mind. Was the city-lord behind this? Why? Could this be someone else framing the city-lord? Maybe he did it on his own, like that idiot son of hers. Then Nero remembered the sergeant who had once given him a tour of the army compound in Gate 7. The man had been avoiding Nero during training, and now Nero knew why. He was surprised at how betrayed he felt. Even though he didn¡¯t know the man well, he had gotten along with him. Nero remembered the man¡¯s laugh, and he could picture the man¡¯s easy-going smile. ¡®This is some real medieval betrayal. Princes and consorts plotting the demise of their political enemies. Friends turned into enemies based on their familial ties. If this were happening to someone else, I¡¯d totally watch this show,¡¯ he thought grimly. Nick spoke up, ¡°The Blackwoods are a large family. They have several branch houses, and are practically an institution in Dorchester. It doesn¡¯t make sense for Lord Blackwood to be personally involved. If he wanted you dead, he¡¯d have someone from the lower families arrange it. This is probably the work of an impostor.¡± Mike looked up and said, ¡°I don¡¯t know what else to tell you. As far as I knew, Heather was talking to him directly. But I only have her word on that. She could have been lying, or she was deceived. All I know for sure is that whoever her contact was, he was powerful. Once, Heather had been arrested by the guards for a bar-fight where she killed someone. It had only taken a ping for her to have a representative from the Tower of Law petitioning for her immediate release. After that, none of us questioned what she told us.¡± Sergeant Wesker said, ¡°There isn¡¯t a noble in Dorchester who could manipulate the law like that.¡± Nero snorted, then looked over his shoulder at the sergeant, and said, ¡°I doubt they did anything illegal. All it would take is an expedited trial, and some careful presentation of the evidence. She probably was let off on the grounds of self-defense or something. Lawyers don¡¯t have to break the law to manipulate it.¡± Nero returned his attention to Mike, who looked like he had given up all hope. Even though Nero felt bad for the guy, there probably wasn¡¯t much he could do to help him. Their only chance was to get the man into protective custody, or whatever the Dorchester equivalent was. After a few seconds of silence, Nero stood up and took a few steps away from the prisoner. He made sure to keep an eye on the assassin, and said, ¡°The way I see it, our options are limited. We know for a fact that someone gave our position away. They could be watching us right now. It is entirely possible that Mike is right, and this conspiracy goes all the way up to this Lord Blackwood guy. Taking that into account, we can¡¯t go to the camp with Captain Angelton.¡± Sergeant Wesker gritted his teeth, holding back his anger. Trying to keep calm, he asked, ¡°Why not? The captain wouldn¡¯t be involved in this.¡± Nero just returned a blank stare and said, ¡°His sergeant, and close friend, is named Blackwood. I¡¯ve met the man, and he was part of the command party. Don¡¯t pretend you haven¡¯t considered the possibility that Captain Angelton was bought off.¡± Nero watched the sergeant struggling to contain his rage at the possible betrayal. Continuing on, he said, ¡°We need to find Rose. She is probably heading toward the camp. If she gets there before us, we have no idea how the captain and Sergeant Blackwood will react. Worst case scenario, they interrogate her and find out that I might still be alive. If they are complicit, they¡¯ll start hunting us. Who knows how many people from the recruits are with them. So, first order of business is getting to Rose before she makes it to them.¡± Nick said, ¡°It¡¯s worse than that Nero. If we¡¯re really being tracked by mages, then they could have already told their agents that you are alive. The camp could be coming for us as we speak. I think we should head directly for Dorchester. Rose will have to take care of herself.¡± Nero gave his friend a complicated look, then replied, ¡°You¡¯re right. But I don¡¯t want to let her walk into what could possibly be a trap. Not to mention that these woods are full of monsters and beasts that will have no problem ripping apart an archer who is not even level 10. Besides, we can¡¯t assume that everyone is involved. Paranoia isn¡¯t going to help us get through this. The best thing we can do is just deal with what we know. Our immediate issue is Rose, and we¡¯re going after her.¡± Sergeant Wesker¡¯s voice was hard as he said, ¡°I¡¯m the team leader, and I¡¯ll be making the decisions. We ne-¡± Nero interrupted harshly, ¡°Like hell you will!¡± He was much shorter than the sergeant, but he stared up at the man with no hesitation in his eyes. Nero¡¯s voice was like steel as he said, ¡°I may not be a full lord or whatever until I complete the trials, but I¡¯ll be in charge of my survival. Until I know better, the only people I trust are Cathleen and Nick. You could be involved, and only killed as a contingency. You might be feeling betrayed by your employer, or by the army, or just thinking about yourself.¡± Taking a step forward, he stared the man down, and continued, ¡°I don¡¯t trust you. I will not be taking any orders from you. You will follow my lead, or the woman behind you will remove you from the equation.¡± Sergeant Wesker froze as he remembered the terrifying woman who was currently watching his back. He suddenly realized that any semblance of control he had over the group was only there because the little lord in front of him had allowed it. Looking down at the insane young man, he said, ¡°Very well. What are your orders?¡± Nero said decisively, ¡°Everyone, pack up our gear. We¡¯re heading after Rose. Nick, you said you can track her, so find us a heading.¡± Turning, Nero looked down at Mike, who was still attached to the tree. Striding forward, Nero grabbed hold of his sword, then yanked it out of the tree. Mike screamed in pain, then collapsed. Nero cast a simple healing spell, and let it do its work. As Mike felt his shoulder heal, he heard the young man who had dismantled his entire team say, ¡°Mike, you¡¯re coming with us. You now work for me. You will do as you''re told, defend us with your life, and cause no trouble. I¡¯ll personally deliver you to the Tower of Law so you can make a statement. Right now, I¡¯m your only chance of getting out of this alive. Do you have any objections?¡± Holding his shoulder, Mike looked up at the stern faced young noble and said, ¡°No, m¡¯lord. I¡¯ll do whatever you say.¡± Nero ran his center along his blade, cleaning off the blood. Giving it a quick look, confirming it was now clean, he then returned it to his scabbard. Turning around, he saw his companions bundling up their supplies. But he couldn¡¯t help but notice Cathleen was still keeping an eye on the forest. Nero stood in contemplation, watching Mike go and collect his weapons while doing his best to avoid looking at his dead friends. Deciding that he better get it over with, Nero looked up into the sky and said, ¡°I don¡¯t know how many of you are watching. You might be from the mage tower with Jennings, or some asshole who was paid to track us. But you better pray to whatever gods you believe in, because if you think you¡¯re going to live through this, you¡¯re delusional. I¡¯m coming for you, so you better start running.¡± Nero huffed in anger, then went to collect his things. After taking two steps, he paused then looked back at the sky, ¡°And Jennings, if you¡¯re watching, I know you must have known about this. You¡¯re the kind of asshole who would watch this happen like it was some kind of experiment. If you don¡¯t have the mage who¡¯s been tracking us in custody before I get back to Dorchester, I¡¯m going to start a weekly broadcast on Dorchester¡¯s hub. It will cover topics including ¡®how to annoy your bosses¡¯, ¡®why mages aren¡¯t that special¡¯, and ¡®why essence shields are only described as a ¡®film¡¯ by idiots¡¯. Don¡¯t test me old man.¡± Nero nodded to himself, as if his threat was enough to ensure Jennings cooperation. He then went to get his gear together. ¡®Well, I wanted an adventure. Now I have to rescue a runaway girl, while making my way through a monster infested forest with a man who tried to kill me, a possible traitor, and my magic teacher. And all I have to rely on is a warrior woman who has spent the last week teaching me how to die well. What could go wrong?¡¯ he thought wryly. Chapter 99 - Reunited with my thorny Rose. Rose was in her element. Even though the situation was dire, she had missed this. She had always loved the wilds, it was where she felt at home. The sounds of the forest wrapped around her like a blanket. Like a ghost, she moved along the forest floor in a crouch, alert for any threat. She felt the ambiance change, and her surroundings seemed to quiet. Pausing, she quickly found a bush to hide under. Like a rabbit, she scurried to safety. Her heart was steady, and she waited patiently to see what had disturbed the forest. Lumbering into view, a large bear-like monster shuffled through the trees. Its snout was in the air, seemingly searching for something. Rose realized that it must have caught her scent. Delicately, she set down her pack. Her eyes never left the hulking monster. Skillfully, she drew an arrow, and prepared herself for combat. If the monster had her scent, than any chance of avoiding a fight was already gone. Patiently, she watched the monster approach. Ensconced in a shrubbery, she waited. Her heart pumped steadily, and sweat pooled on her lower back. As a hunter, she knew how to pick her shots. She didn¡¯t move a muscle, and her breath was so quiet that she could be confused for part of the landscape. Rose loved this feeling. Her enemy looked right at her, but couldn¡¯t see her. She was the one in control of the situation. Slowly, she raised her bow. Every movement was smooth. The sound of her bowstring stretching forced her to pause. The monster¡¯s head whipped around, once again staring at her hiding spot. It¡¯s snout bared in a silent snarl. Hungry eyes searched for its prey. Calmly, she connected to the arrow like she had been taught. She felt the arrow, and became one with it. The process was familiar, and comforting. ¡®Now!¡¯ she thought, and released her arrow. It flew true, and planted itself in the towering beast¡¯s eye. The monster reeled back in pain, and its roar ripped through the forest. There was agony in its call, and Rose¡¯s heart leapt at the successful strike. Rather than reposition, she just drew another arrow, and waited for the monster to offer its other eye. Seconds passed, as the giant monster stumbled around. It used its front paws to break off the arrow, leaving a wrecked, and bleeding eye socket. Rose¡¯s smirk grew into a smile. Her eyes were sparkling with joy. She was the predator, and her prey was panicking. Seeing an opening, she fired another arrow. Once again, a roar of pain shook the forest, and her prey was blinded. Springing to her feet, she clipped her bow to her baldric, then threw it over her shoulder. Feeling it rest comfortably next to her quiver, she drew her short-sword with her right, as her left pulled a knife from a scabbard on her chest. While becoming one with her blades, she moved quickly, and circled the monster. She approached carefully, as the large beast was flailing around in pain. It was slamming into trees, destroying whatever it happened to run into. Blinded, and enraged, it was a terrifying sight. Yet, for Rose, it was a wounded animal that she would soon put out of its misery. Like a viper, she struck out at its legs. The monsters shoulders were taller than her, and she had no issue finding its joints. Soon, the beast was hobbled. Its roars of pain had transitioned into guttural whines. Its flanks were covered in wounds, and it was unable to stand. Rose didn¡¯t hesitate, and with a running leap, she ascended the mountain of muscle. Perched on its back, she ran up to its neck. Her steps were so light, the monster didn¡¯t even realize the danger it was in. Sheathing her knife, she took up a two-handed grip on her short-sword. She raised the sword high, then slammed it into the monsters neck, just below its head. She held tight as the beast thrashed around in pain. Her blade sawed back and forth, and the blood poured over her hands. Seconds passed, and the hulking monster came to a stop. Rose was crouched on the beast, patiently waiting to see if the fight was really over. The silence of her surroundings made a sharp contrast to the previous cacophony. Covered in blood, she stood up while wrenching her sword free. Standing on the beasts, she looked around carefully. Rose knew better than to let her guard down. Killing one monster didn¡¯t make the forest any safer. Her eyes snapped toward a sound in the distance. Something was coming, and it was moving fast. She looked around, and saw that she was high enough to reach the lower branches. Quickly sheathing her sword, she didn¡¯t even have time to remove the blood. With a small jump, she took hold of the closest branch. Like a squirrel, she climbed higher, trying to find a comfortable perch. When she found a suitable place, she unclipped her bow and got ready. She could hear feet stamping, along with the familiar sounds of armor. Whoever was coming, they were armed. Taking a deep breath, she drew an arrow and prepared. They would not find her easy prey¡­ she was a hunter. ----- Nero was getting annoyed. Their group was moving quickly through the forest. Rose had a few hours lead, and Cathleen was determined to close the distance quickly. Everyone seemed to share Nick¡¯s opinion of how terribly ¡®screwed¡¯ they were. A great deal of Nero¡¯s irritation was due to the fact that the man wouldn¡¯t shut-up about it. When they¡¯d first left to find Rose, Nero had contacted Nick over a private connection. When Nero had told Nick his plan, the man had been skeptical. But after some convincing, he agreed to play along. Nero couldn¡¯t help but regret the fact that Nick was such a surprisingly good actor. He really played the victim well. As they moved through the forest, Nick hissed, ¡°All I¡¯m saying is that you¡¯re not thinking this through. If there are really mages tracking us, there isn¡¯t anything we can do. I¡¯m not skilled enough in essence diffusion to hide us. There could be multiple teams hunting us as we speak! And if Captain Angelton is invo-¡± From the front of the group, Sergeant Wesker nearly shouted, ¡°The Captain is a good man! He wouldn¡¯t be involved in something like this. I¡¯d recommend you watch your mouth, mage.¡± Nero sighed, but didn¡¯t get involved. He needed the sergeant to be preoccupied. So Nick had made sure to continually needle the man. The two of them had been repeating this fight for the last hour. Nick would slowly complain, working himself into a lather, then the sergeant would lose it. As expected, Nick¡¯s apology quickly followed. Nick held up his hands and said, ¡°I¡¯m not saying that the captain is involved. I¡¯m just stating a hypothetical. I¡¯m sure you¡¯re right. The captain is a professional. His service record is impeccable, and I didn¡¯t mean to imply anything.¡± If you find this story on Amazon, be aware that it has been stolen. Please report the infringement. The group proceeded forward, following Rose¡¯s trail. Occasionally, Nick would direct them to alter course. He was the only one who could follow Rose¡¯s essence trail. Nero had tried, but he didn¡¯t have anything with her signature to use as a reference. Nick had tried to explain, but they hadn¡¯t gotten far, and Nero was in no mood for a lecture. Nero tried to ignore Nick¡¯s grumbling. While keeping watch on his side of the forest, Nero¡¯s mind tried to piece together what he knew. He hated this. There were too many possibilities. All he knew for sure, was that someone with connections had hired a group of people to kill him. Everything else was just conjecture. He couldn¡¯t trust the assassin. And the worst part was that he could be under surveillance right now, so he couldn¡¯t even think out loud. As Nero¡¯s anger at the situation grew, he heard Cathleen say, ¡°Halt. Nick, shut-up for a second.¡± The group came to a stop. Nero was breathing hard, but he tried to listen for what had spooked Cathleen. Like a meerkat looking around, she rose to her full height from a crouch. Nero watched her, trying to figure out what she was thinking. Her eyes were furrowed in concentration as her gaze panned around the forest. When she froze in place, Nero felt his breath catch. ¡®What is she hearing?¡¯ he wondered. Crouching back down, she whispered, ¡°There is a fight in the distance. I think someone is fighting one of those monsters we¡¯ve been seeing.¡± She pointed off into the forest with her spear, and said, ¡°Its coming from over there.¡± Sergeant Wesker replied, ¡°All right. Let¡¯s see who¡¯s out there.¡± Nero looked over at Mike, and was happy to see the man looking nervously into the distance. It didn¡¯t seem like the man was expecting reinforcements. In fact, the man was perfectly happy being ignored. Nero had kept a psychic eye on Mike, and he had been getting better at recognizing the man¡¯s emotions. It was a lot like when he was using the link. Nero had found that if he let his psychic field mingle into someone¡¯s essence field, he could get a sense of what they were feeling. It was very muted, but still useful. He couldn¡¯t affect the essence within their ¡®bubble¡¯, but he could feel what they were doing with it, and how their psyche affected it. Nero likened it to reading someone¡¯s expressions, but psychically. Nero¡¯s center had almost recovered, and he was ready to see what he and his companions were capable of when they were PREPARED for combat. If there were enemies ahead, they were about to have a surprise. While the group moved quickly, Nero spread out his senses. He felt the animals running away from the conflict, and the sense of growing danger gave him goosebumps. Ten minutes later, they found the aftermath of the fight Cathleen had heard. Nero looked around, and marveled at the destroyed landscape. Trees were destroyed, and the ground was torn up. He tightened his field, looking for anything out of the ordinary. The group spread out, Cathleen taking the middle as always. Wesker approached a large dead monster. It looked like it had died to a thousand cuts. There were slashes all over its sides, and it was covered in blood. The sergeant looked over the corpse and said quietly, ¡°It looks like someone shot out its eyes. Then they spent a good long time bleeding it to death. This wasn¡¯t a quick kill.¡± Nero felt a disturbance in his field. There was a hazy spot up in the trees. Turning his head, he looked up. There didn¡¯t seem to be anything up there, but he couldn¡¯t shake the feeling that something was there. Narrowing his eyes, he asked, ¡°How many people were involved?¡± Sergeant Wesker responded, ¡°How in the hells am I supposed to know? All I can tell you is that there was an archer and a swordsman. I don¡¯t see any signs of casting, but that doesn¡¯t necessarily mean there were no mages here.¡± Nero put the pieces together, then huffed in annoyance. He put his hands on his hips and stared at the hazy spot in the trees. He couldn¡¯t see anything, but he was pretty sure who was up there. He shouted, ¡°Rose! Get your ass down here. The sergeant needs his magic eight ball, and we have to get back to Dorchester. Stop being so dramatic.¡± The entire group was startled at Nero¡¯s outburst. But, before they could say anything, they heard an angry shout from above. ¡°I¡¯m not being dramatic! How do I know that you are really you? The assassins had an illusion mage, and I¡¯m staring at their swordsman as we speak,¡± said Rose, while still hiding in the upper branches. Nero snorted in amusement. Looking over, he saw Cathleen standing comfortably with her spear planted in the ground. Sergeant Wesker was hiding behind his shield, nervously looking around. Nick was crouched, his eyes wide in panic. And Nero nearly started laughing when he saw Mike standing with his arms up. The man apparently realized that an archer was targeting him. Nero replied, ¡°Look. I¡¯m me. No one has the balls to try and impersonate me.¡± He gestured to the assassin dismissively, ¡°And that¡¯s just Mike. He and his friends were hired to kill me. His friends are dead, and he has agreed to testify against his employer. We need to get him back to Dorchester. So get your ass down here, and let¡¯s go.¡± Nick whispered, ¡°Are you sure that we can trust her?¡± Rose¡¯s voice replied from a different tree. Somehow she had moved without anyone having seen her. ¡°What do you mean by that? They tried to kill me too? And how in the hells are you all alive? I SAW you die. I¡¯m not going anywhere with you until you prove to me that you are who you say you are,¡± she said, her voice tight with anxiety. Nero rubbed his head in annoyance, and replied, ¡°I took care of the assassins and then resuscitated everyone. We came after you to save you¡­ and we need that direction-finder you took. But mostly it was because of the ¡®saving¡¯ thing. I don¡¯t know how to prove anything to you.¡± Looking around at his companions, Nero asked, ¡°Any of you got any ideas?¡± Cathleen¡¯s voice was cold as ice. ¡°If you don¡¯t get down here in the next 2 minutes, I¡¯m coming up there,¡± she said. Rose immediately responded, ¡°Oh, thank the gods. Hi Cathleen, I¡¯m so glad you¡¯re OK.¡± She emerged from the branches, hopping and sliding among the canopy. In less than thirty seconds, she was on the ground again. She rushed up to Cathleen and was all smiles. She looked at the woman, and said, ¡°Thank you for coming for me. I really am glad that you¡¯re all right.¡± Cathleen offered the young woman a small smile and replied, ¡°It will take a lot more than that to kill me. Now let¡¯s get back to Dorchester and get this assassin to the Tower of Law.¡± Nero angrily walked up and said, ¡°It did NOT take more than that to kill you. Why is no one acknowledging the fact that I saved everybody. This is starting to feel like a conspiracy.¡± He turned to look at Rose and said, ¡°And why did you just believe her? Why didn¡¯t you believe me?¡± Rose and Cathleen exchanged a look, and Cathleen shrugged as if nothing Nero said mattered. Rose looked down at Nero and said, ¡°I believed her because I know her. And anything that comes out of your mouth should be treated as a lie until corroborating evidence is presented.¡± Nick burst out in laughter, while Nero¡¯s face turned red in anger. Nearly hissing, Nero said, ¡°Let¡¯s just get moving. And for the record, I¡¯m the only one who believed you weren¡¯t an assassin. Just because you¡¯re still a spy for the general, doesn¡¯t mean you had anything to do with this.¡± Nero stomped off, apparently done talking about this. While Nick and Cathleen frowned, Rose looked shocked. Mike seemed completely ambivalent, while Sergeant Wesker said dumbly, ¡°Wait? She¡¯s a what now?¡± Nero shouted over his shoulder, ¡°I¡¯ve already got a bearing on Dorchester. Everyone shut-up and let¡¯s get moving. We¡¯re losing the light.¡± Dutifully, everyone took their places, with Mike trailing behind the group. Rose kept her head down, pretending to be embarrassed. They left the dead monster where it was, and headed off toward the city. Nero kept his senses wide, now paying attention to both Mike and Rose in equal measure. ¡®I shouldn¡¯t have said anything. Come on Nero, lock it down. Don¡¯t get emotional, and focus on the angles. If you can¡¯t handle wordplay, then you¡¯re going to get eaten alive by the nobles,¡¯ he admonished himself. Chapter 100 - On the road again. Lord Blackwood was starting to get nervous. The mage he had contracted was not returning his pings. It had been more than an hour since he''d heard from him. The mage had reported that everything was in place, and the ambush would happen shortly. But, since then, the mage had gone silent. Tapping his finger anxiously on his armrest, he thought through the most likely scenarios. The problem was that regardless of what happened during the ambush, the mage going silent was a problem. It all came down to what caused the man to be unavailable. Hopefully, it was an unrelated issue, and he would soon be hearing the good news. His office was simple, and the only window had curtains blocking out the sun. He lived for his work, and any distraction was an unnecessary feature. Normally, he would just work on something else while he waited, but this mission was too important. He couldn¡¯t concentrate. Feeling fidgety, he stood up. He started pacing, anxiously waiting for his link to alert him to an incoming connection. Lord Blackwood¡¯s heart leapt into his chest when he felt a ping from his door. He furrowed his brow, as he didn¡¯t recognize the signature of his unexpected guest. Curious, he sent a reply for them to enter, and waited to see who was bothering him. The door opened, and he saw the new court mage, Mage-adept Newbanks, along with two guards. Surprisingly, the two guards were not anyone he knew. She walked in confidently, her face calm, while the two guards waited at the door. ¡°What can I do for you Adept Newbanks?¡± Lord Blackwood asked with a polite smile. His heart was pounding, and he couldn¡¯t shake the feeling that this visit did not bode well for his future. The mage replied in a soft voice, ¡°Arch-mage Jennings has requested your presence. You are to come with me.¡± Repressing a shudder, he asked, ¡°What¡¯s this about?¡± For the first time, she smiled, and said, ¡°He is trying to make sure that he can return to Hennings with his head intact. It seems one of his games got a little out of hand, and there are many people currently unhappy with him. That¡¯s all I¡¯m at liberty to say. Are you willing to come with me?¡± If there was one thing to be said about Lord Blackwood, it was that he wasn¡¯t a coward. With his head held high, and his back straight, he looked Mage-adept Newbanks in the eye and said, ¡°Of course. I¡¯ll do whatever I can to help. Lead on.¡± Still smiling, Mage-adept Newbanks offered a gracious nod, then turned to leave. Lord Blackwood followed her into the hall, and he felt the guards take up position behind him. As they walked down the hallway, he stared at the mage¡¯s back. She seemed completely at ease. But the sound of the guards heavy footsteps on the tiles behind him felt like the drums of a funeral march. He wasn¡¯t sure that they knew anything, but he couldn¡¯t help but feel like things were spiraling out of his control. ----- The trip back to Dorchester was just as bad as the trip into the wilds. Even though they had developed a healthy teamwork, it was offset by the suspicious atmosphere which now hung over the group like a cloud. Mike did his best to keep silent. He knew that no one trusted him, and he was running low on options. While he tried to ignore his feelings at losing his two best friends, he couldn¡¯t help but be distracted. And every time someone from the group saved him, or pulled a beast away from him, he felt his unease clawing at his mind. The cold looks from the people currently escorting him chilled him to the bone. His grief and shame caused him to continuously need help, and it kept getting worse. Rose wasn¡¯t fairing much better. Her cover was blown, and even worse, it had been blown for some time. She had thought everyone had believed her, but it seemed everyone had always known she was still loyal to the general. What was worse, the only person who was surprised at Lord Walker¡¯s outburst was the sergeant. Rather than treating her like a comrade, he looked at her with suspicion. Her anxiety was causing her to under-perform. And every time someone stepped in to save her, she felt a little worse. As they traveled in silence, the group only spoke during combat. The sun set, and the hours passed quickly. Eventually, they decided to make camp for the night. Coming to a stop, Sergeant Wesker said, ¡°Here¡¯s good. Let¡¯s get a perimeter set up, then we can discuss shifts.¡± He pushed the base of his shield into the ground, so it would stand on its own. Rubbing a hand over his head in worry, he continued, ¡°I have no idea how we¡¯re going to do shifts. This is a disaster.¡± Nick chuckled, but went to set up the misdirection ward. Nero used some simple spells to create a small pit and start a fire. Cathleen, as always, kept an eye on the surroundings. Mike and Rose shared a look, then took seats on opposing sides of the fire. Neither wanted to talk, and both were uncomfortable trying to help. Soon enough, the entire group was sitting around the fire, watching Nick prepare some stew. Rose broke the silence first. ¡°I¡¯d just like to say that I didn¡¯t betray you all. The general only asked for updates on our training. There wasn¡¯t anything that was illegal or anything. It was a condition of my being accepted into the elite-hunter program. You can trust me,¡± she said. By the time she finished, she was almost begging. While Nick was falling for it, Nero and Cathleen just stared at her with equally blank looks. Mike kept his head down, as he didn¡¯t want anything to do with their inter-party spat. Sergeant Wesker asked gruffly, ¡°Why didn¡¯t I know you were still spying for him? I was told that your mission ended when Walker got the other spies kicked out. Was Captain Angelton told? Did he not trust me?¡± Rose pleaded, ¡°Don¡¯t blame the captain. He had nothing to do with it. The general just believed that the fewer people who knew, the less likely I¡¯d be targeted by other noble houses. He was worried that they would try to get me to spy for them.¡± This book was originally published on Royal Road. Check it out there for the real experience. Nero couldn¡¯t help it, and laughed lightly. ¡°Oh, I get it. That¡¯s a good play. You¡¯re going with the whole ¡®He was just looking out for me. And I was only there to look out for you.¡¯ That¡¯s a really good spin. You¡¯re surprisingly good at this for someone who says they hate politics. I¡¯m impressed,¡± he said with real admiration. Cathleen nodded in agreement, while Nick looked confused. Sergeant Wesker said, ¡°What are you talking about? What am I missing?¡± Nero looked across the fire and met the sergeant¡¯s eyes. He smiled and said, ¡°She was placed as a spy to report on my training. The general wanted to know more about me. I¡¯m guessing that my existence threw up some flags, and he wanted someone close to me. Who better than a hot girl who was good at reading a room. When her cover was blown, he told everyone that she stopped spying. You suck at lying, and he didn¡¯t trust you to keep the secret. She ¡®threw¡¯ herself on my mercy, and I allowed her to stay. Instead of being loyal to me, she kept spying. I have no idea why, but it doesn¡¯t really matter. Everything I¡¯ve done or said has been reported to the general. I¡¯m an unknown, and he is a politician. He can¡¯t plan for me, unless he understands me.¡± Sergeant Wesker frowned, and said, ¡°You¡¯re a weird kid. It¡¯s not just that you train like a mad-man, you think weird. You shouldn¡¯t be able to do the things you do. You recharge your center too quickly, and you are too cunning. By the gods man! You took out an entire team of assassins on your own, and still had center to spare to revive us. That¡¯s not normal!¡± By the end, he was nearly shouting. Nero just shrugged in response, but Nick spoke up angrily, ¡°Nero may be a little odd. But that is no reason for the army to have him under surveillance. He has done nothing but help Dorchester since he got here. If it weren¡¯t for him, we¡¯d be facing this level threshold with a weakened army after a bloody noble war. Lord Cosgrave would probably be dead, and we¡¯d be led by a traitor. And all he¡¯s gotten in return is constant assassination attempts and distrust. This is an outrage!¡± Nero tried to calm the situation down by saying, ¡°It¡¯s alright Nick. I¡¯ve gotten plenty. I¡¯m now rich, been raised to nobility, and I even have an estate somewhere. I also have you and Vera.¡± He looked over to Cathleen, who was staring calmly into the fire, and continued, ¡°Not to mention my warrior woman. She taught me how to take a spear in the gut and keep fighting. If it weren¡¯t for you three, I wouldn¡¯t be here. So don¡¯t worry about it. Let the nobles play their games. Whatever they do, it will just end up with us getting more money and power. If you haven¡¯t noticed, they suck at this.¡± Rose looked abashed, while Sergeant Wesker couldn¡¯t help but smile. As much as the kid freaked him out, he was really starting to like him. The little lord just didn¡¯t know how to quit. The silence stretched for almost a minute, as everyone digested what had been said. As the fire crackled, Cathleen¡¯s solid voice interrupted their thoughts. She kept her eyes on the fire, and said, ¡°In the north, there are warriors known as ¡®Warblades¡¯. They are fearless in the face of death. Their training is harsh, and they treat every aspect of their existence as if it were a battle to be fought to the death. Whether it is physical combat, an argument, or even a meal, everything is a battle to be won. Nero embodies that ideal. What you southerners call ¡®weird¡¯, I call ¡®great¡¯. It is a concept foreign to you, as you live your life in hiding. The world is out there¡­ waiting. A Warblade faces it with steel in their heart, and walks their path with purpose.¡± Her eyes lifted to stare at the sergeant, and said, ¡°Fear him. Try and destroy him. Stand in his way. You will be nothing but mortar on his path, for you are not an obstacle¡­ you are fertilizer.¡± The entire camp was shrouded in silence. Even the forest seemed to quiet at her grim words. Nero¡¯s voice rang out, ¡°God dammit lady! You are awesome. When we get back to Dorchester, remind me to talk to you about T-shirts.¡± Everyone looked at Nero with confusion and fear, marveling at his wide smile. ¡°What?¡± he said, surprised at their odd reaction. ¡°You¡¯re telling me that didn¡¯t get you fired up? That was like something you hear while metal music plays over a montage of my battles. Stop looking at me like that.¡± Nick shook it off first, and said, ¡°We need to set a watch. I think th-¡± Nero interrupted, ¡°I¡¯ll take first watch with Rose and Mike. You all can rest easy, and I¡¯ll wake you up in 4 hours. You need sleep, after all, you died today.¡± Nero met their stares with a happy smile. Cathleen just nodded, then went to set up her sleeping bag. Sergeant Wesker shook his head as if he were too tired to argue. Nick gave Nero a worried look and asked, ¡°Are you sure you¡¯ll be alright?¡± Nero waved dismissively, ignoring the surprised looks he was getting from Rose and Mike. He said, ¡°Yeah, don¡¯t worry about it. Rose is worried about what might happen, but she isn¡¯t a threat. And Mike needs us to get him to the Tower of Law. He knows we¡¯re his only chance at getting out of Dorchester alive.¡± Nick nodded, still clearly uncomfortable with Nero¡¯s decision. Nero let them head to sleep, while he went and got another bowl of stew from the pot simmering over the fire. Retaking his seat, he looked over at Mike and Rose. They were both looking uncomfortable. Neither seemed happy with their situation. As he drank his soup, occasionally chewing on a big chunk of meat, he thought about what he should do about them. Rose was crafty as hell, and she was the very definition of a survivor. She probably could have made it out of the wilds on her own, and she wasn¡¯t even level 10. ¡®That¡¯s pretty bad-ass¡¯ he thought to himself. Mike on the other hand, was a follower. From what Nero had gathered, the man thought he ran his team, but it was obvious he was just the most neutral one of the group. He had never made a decision that wasn¡¯t reached by committee. He was no leader. But Nero had to admit, the man was really good with a blade. On several occasions, while they were being attacked by random beasts and monsters, the man had shown a lot of interesting abilities. Mike was able to infuse his blades with some kind of essence that made them act like laser swords. They could cut through anything, as if it were butter. That was a useful ability, one Nero would very much like to copy. Figuring it was a good way to pass the time, Nero looked over at Mike and asked, ¡°Hey, how do you do that thing with your swords?¡± Seeing the man¡¯s confusion, he clarified, ¡°You know, where you make them glow kinda red, then they cut through a monsters leg like it was paper. Is that an ability or a spell?¡± Mike¡¯s face looked bleak. Nero could see the man was struggling to not break down and curl into a ball. ¡®Poor guy is really white-knuckling it¡­ I hope he can keep it together for a few days,¡¯ Nero thought. Sighing, Mike said, ¡°It¡¯s an ability. My pillar is ¡®cutting¡¯. I grew up in a butcher shop, and my dad always made me sharpen the knives every morning.¡± Shrugging at the memory, he continued, ¡°It just seemed right to me. I¡¯m not really sure how it works, but I¡¯ve put a few stars into the pillar¡¯s ability. I focused on imbuing my blades with an edge¡­ a perfect edge.¡± Nero watched as the man got lost in his thoughts. Mike continued, ¡°I think it¡¯s the simplicity that appealed to me the most. Every time I¡¯ve tried something fancy, it failed. But cutting; separating something, that is simple enough that even I can¡¯t screw it up.¡± His head fell forward, tears in his eyes. Nero felt uncomfortable, he had never been good with people showing their emotions. ¡®This guy needs to bury that shit deep. One should only confront their feelings in solitude¡­ with alcohol,¡¯ he said to himself. Rose¡¯s voice was quiet, and tinged with fear as she asked, ¡°Lord Walker, what are you going to do with me when we return to Dorchester?¡± Nero gave her a questioning look and asked, ¡°Why do I have to do anything? You¡¯re the general¡¯s lackey. It¡¯s got nothing to do with me.¡± Rose looked confused and said, ¡°But you put me under your house''s protection, and I violated your trust. I sp-¡± Nero held up a hand and interrupted, ¡°Look, I don¡¯t know how you guys do the whole ¡®honor¡¯ thing here. As far as I¡¯m concerned, I used you to get rid of the spies I didn¡¯t know about and replace them with one that I DID know about. I don¡¯t care about politics, but compared to people who never watched CNN, I¡¯m a freaking prodigy. I¡¯m not going to do anything to you. As far as I¡¯m concerned, you can keep spying on me. The last thing I need is for the general to get all butt-hurt and try to figure out some other stupid way to screw with me. You are at least nice to look at, can take care of yourself, and I really enjoy how you keep trying to emotionally manipulate everyone.¡± He offered her a thumbs-up and said, ¡°You just keep being you. No complaints from me.¡± Rose blushed, and turned her head back toward the fire. Nero looked back over at the silently crying Mike, and decided that he should just ignore these two overly-emotional people. Spreading out his psychic field, he tried to keep watch on the surroundings. While taking another sip of his soup, he thought, ¡®Why is everyone so worried about this crap when we are in a forest filled with monsters the size of elephants¡­ this world is crazy. I love it.¡¯ He couldn¡¯t help but smile at the thought. Chapter 101 - Misdirection via arguing. Arch-mage Mathers¡¯ image was hovering in a scry-portal facing Jennings¡¯ desk. His arms were crossed, and his brow was furrowed in anger. Jennings was thankful that the man was alone, as he didn¡¯t feel up to facing the entire council of mages at the moment. ¡°How bad is it?¡± asked Mathers, his voice full of reproach. Jennings nervously shrugged his shoulders, and replied, ¡°It¡¯s not that bad. Things just got a little out of hand. Everyone is fine. No one died¡­ well not permanently at least.¡± Throwing his hands up in exasperation, Mathers shouted, ¡°That doesn¡¯t sound GOOD! The entire point of you being out there was to stop things like this. What the hell have you been doing?¡± Jennings grimaced, and took a sip from his glass. He was in his office, and he could feel Mage-adept Newbanks¡¯ eyes boring into him from the chair across from him. He could take some comfort in the fact that Mathers didn¡¯t know he had an audience. ¡°I was just trying not to interfere too much. I didn¡¯t know they had such a good plan. I thought it''d just be a few hunters. I mean, come on! It shouldn¡¯t have been a big deal. They kill the assassins, then return to see me having already arrested the mastermind. It would have been a great bonding experience. Then I would have a solid argument for saying Nero should come stay in Hennings for a while. This whole level shift is going to get bad, and there is no reason for him to stay here,¡± Jennings said while grumbling. Mathers shook a finger at Jennings and said, ¡°He likes it there! And the king is already going to be sending support. Even the fateweavers are predicting that the city will probably make it through the shift intact. You could easily ensure his survival. Hells man! You could probably single-handedly deal with the shift if you got off your lazy ass. There was no reason to let this happen. The entire Cosgrave line may have to be purged. Do you have any idea how big a mess you made!¡± Jennings squirmed in his seat, and groused, ¡°They weren¡¯t supposed to have a mage! I sensed someone watching them, but I thought it was the mage the general had assigned. There are too many people scrying on the boy. It¡¯s not my fault! And Lord Blackwood somehow got involved. By the time I realized the city-lord¡¯s daughter was sleeping with him, it was too late. I figured it would work itself out. And for the record, it did! Everyone is still alive!¡± Mathers¡¯ face was red with fury. His voice was like ice as he said, ¡°The only reason everyone survived without you having to blindly try teleporting through an essence pool was that Nero figured out how to resuscitate his comrades. He shouldn¡¯t even be able to do that! There was no way you could have known he could do that! Stop trying to say you had things under control! You¡­. You¡­. You IMBECILE. I can¡¯t talk to you right now. Just fix it. The council is furious, and there is a petition to move your office into the basement. You better figure something out!¡± And then Mathers¡¯ image winked out. Arch-mage Jennings slumped in his chair. It had been a VERY long time since he had so grossly miscalculated. He couldn¡¯t figure out how the situation had gotten so out of control. Everything had started out so simple. It should have been a small hunting team that needed money and would try to assault a professional team of elite hunters. The Cosgraves would be humiliated, Nero would look like a victim, and he would be able to come in and save the day. Mage-adept Newbanks interrupted his thoughts. ¡°So, I have Lord Blackwood waiting outside. Are you ready to meet with him? Or would you like some more time ruminating on what went wrong with your ¡®brilliant¡¯ plan?¡± Scowling at the young woman, he replied, ¡°Just send the moron in. And schedule a meeting with Lord Cosgrave along with General Branson. This is going to be a pain in the ass to deal with.¡± Standing up, Mage-adept Newbanks calmly said, ¡°You might want to include someone from the Tower of Law. I recommend Lord Bennings, as she is still the director. The ramifications of a house attempting to assassinate a new noble, one who recently provided a class 5 exploit, might require some legal oversight. Also, what would you like to do with the mage who was providing aid to Lord Blackwood?¡± Shooting a glare at his calm and collected subordinate, he said, ¡°Thank you for that. Just confine her to her room for now. I¡¯ll deal with her later. If she had any idea of what she was involved in, she¡¯s going to have to die.¡± After a sigh at the thought of possibly having to kill the mage, he continued, ¡°And yes, Lord Bennings is a good idea.¡± As though his personal crisis was completely irrelevant, she offered a polite nod, then left to go get Lord Blackwood. Arch-mage Jennings just watched her leave, stewing in his defeat. He REALLY needed to figure out a way out of this debacle. Hopefully he wouldn¡¯t have to send the entire city¡¯s nobility into a frenzy. ----- Nero and his companions were making good time. They moved through the forest easily, swiftly dealing with anything that stood in their way. If they didn¡¯t run into any problems, they would be out of the wilds sometime tomorrow afternoon. Nero¡¯s skill in using his psychic field to search for enemies became second nature. He kept his field up at all times, only stopping when Nick got fed up with him. It was difficult for Nero to ¡®passively¡¯ scan, as he had a tendency to grip the essence, rather than just let his presence float in the ether. Nick had been a godsend for Nero. Since ¡®the wall¡¯ had been ruined, Nero needed a new shield. As the only shields he had left in his personal space were small bucklers, Nick was kind enough to show Nero how to cast a spell-form to mimic one. As a bonus, they were able to use his lessons to annoy and confuse the rest of the party. Currently, the group had paused. After surviving an ambush, they were watching Nero fight a large bird-monster. Everyone had agreed to let Nero use the last enemy as a training partner. This was the fifth time they¡¯d done it, and Nero was getting annoyed at how easily everyone had seemed to agree with the idea. Nick stood with the group, surrounded by dead bird-monsters. With his arms crossed in annoyance, he shouted, ¡°No Nero! You¡¯re forcing your center too much. Just imbue the shield with your center, then keep a tight grip. If you keep refilling it, you¡¯ll just run out of center. The entire point of the shield is to pit your will against the attack. Don¡¯t absorb it! Block it!¡± Nero was using a buckler as the anchor for his spell-form. A gold, hazy film, resembling a 3ft tall kite shield, was floating an inch in front of it. He was currently fending off a 6 ft tall bird which resembled a velociraptor. In a crouch, Nero hid behind his spell-shield. When the squawking beast struck out with its beak, he would firm his grip and face it head-on. It was completely contrary to what he had been taught before. He had been told to distribute the force from an impact, but now Nick was trying to get him to receive the blow firmly. Nero gritted his teeth, and felt the impacts with his mind. The beast¡¯s momentum would completely halt, but the shock to Nero¡¯s mind was vicious. It was like getting a hot spike shoved into his brain every time he blocked. He really wished he was allowed to parry. Getting fed up, Nero sidestepped the snapping beast, and slammed his essence infused blade into its neck. He felt the impact shake his wrist, and heard the beast¡¯s cry of agony. He took a quick step back and set up for another clash. But, it proved unnecessary, as he saw the beast collapse. Dismissing his spell, he took several deep breaths while watching the large gash on the beast¡¯s neck pour out its lifeblood. Frowning, Nero turned to look at his companions. The sergeant was apparently done collecting the other essence crystals, and was wasting no time. He walked right up to the dying monster and finished it with a knife to its eye. Completely at ease with the violence, he pulled out his knife, and absently wiped it clean on his pant-leg before sheathing it. This tale has been unlawfully obtained from Royal Road. If you discover it on Amazon, kindly report it. Cathleen was watching the forest as usual, while Rose was perched on top of a dead monster. Mike was casually leaning against a tree, patiently waiting for the rest of them to get moving. Nero turned to Nick and asked, ¡°Why the hell is this so difficult? And why can¡¯t I just parry with the spell? This is stupid, and YOU¡¯RE stupid for making me do it.¡± Nick glared at Nero and replied, ¡°Before you can learn to parry, you must learn how to keep hold of your center during combat. Close-quarter spell work isn¡¯t for everybody. I personally hate it, but this is how you¡¯re supposed to train. First you learn to take a hit while keeping control of your construct. Then you learn how to hold on to your construct and use it as an object. Finally, you wield it like an actual shield. You can¡¯t just skip steps. Stop being so difficult!¡± Nero grunted in annoyance. He was about to reply when he heard Cathleen speak up. ¡°I¡¯m all for training, but don¡¯t you two think we should keep moving. This isn¡¯t the time to learn a new skill,¡± she said without looking at them. Nick replied, ¡°I completely agree. It was Nero¡¯s fault. He kept bothering me about learning a shield spell.¡± Nero propped his hands on his hips and said, ¡°Hey! It¡¯s your fault for not being a better teacher. You can¡¯t even make a proper shield to demonstrate the principle you¡¯re trying to have me replicate. I blame you¡­ and so does everyone else.¡± He spread out his arms, demonstrating that everyone was on his side. Nick huffed as though he were affronted. ¡°Now you listen here! My spell-form is perfect. I just prefer to fight at a distance. The principle is sound.¡± Sergeant Wesker stood up from the corpse and said, ¡°Walker, come put these crystals in your bag. We should get moving.¡± He had grown used to their bickering, and now pretended not to hear anything. Nero went over and collected the essence crystals. His bag was carrying over 50 of them at this point. He could see how lucrative a career in hunting could be. Cathleen said, ¡°Alright. Let¡¯s get back into formation. We have a long way to go before we can rest for the night.¡± The companions took their positions, and they were soon moving again. Everyone kept their eyes peeled, and their senses sharp. But, the silence lasted only a few minutes before Nick broke the serious atmosphere. ¡°Nero! Loosen your grip. Why do you insist on holding onto the ambient essence so tightly!¡± he hissed. Nero grimaced in annoyance, and looked over his shoulder at Nick¡¯s back. He hissed right back, ¡°I¡¯m not gripping too hard, you¡¯re just being a perfectionist. I bet you could barely feel my presence.¡± Cathleen interrupted their budding argument by saying, ¡°I swear to the gods, if you two don¡¯t stop picking at each other, I¡¯m going to make you walk around wearing gags!¡± Nero and Nick said in perfect unison, ¡°Sorry, Cathleen.¡± They both returned to their duties, looking like disciplined children. Sergeant Wesker kept moving forward, while shaking his head in aggravation. ¡®How in the hells can they both be so talented, and so childish at the same time. It¡¯s like being with my sister¡¯s kids all over again,¡¯ he thought to himself. The two bickering mages were affecting Mike the worst. He followed along sheepishly, but he couldn¡¯t get over the fact that his friends were defeated by a child. Even worse, he couldn¡¯t rationalize how the young lord was capable of acting like a spoiled brat one minute, then immediately turning into a terrifying whirlwind of destruction. He had personally seen the little lord brutalize monsters, then turn to his companions and ask if they were edible. ¡®How in the hells did I end up here?¡¯ he asked himself sadly. Rose wasn¡¯t fooled though. She knew what the little lord was doing. The constant bickering was keeping everyone¡¯s mind off the danger they were in. It was a masterful manipulation, but she wouldn¡¯t fall for it. She had seen what the little lord was really like, and no amount of childish bickering could make her forget it. As everyone had their own take on Nero¡¯s actions, Cathleen believed Nero was just completely at ease in the wilds. The little lord was treating the eminent threat as a non-issue. She was proud that he could only think about training, and agreed that Nick was being a whiny-little-bitch. While keeping his outward appearance focused on the forest, Nero kept his connection firm as he asked, ¡°Was that too much?¡± Nick didn¡¯t show any sign of receiving the message, but replied, ¡°No. You¡¯re doing great. Remember to keep a firm, but light grip. Creating a link like this isn¡¯t easy. Don¡¯t be discouraged if we lose the connection. Just reach out, and I¡¯ll feel it. Think of it like that handshake thing you showed me in my office. We¡¯re just reaching out our minds and bridging the gap. Are you sure you don¡¯t want to hear how the Thought-hub was developed from this technique?¡± Nero sent a mental sigh, and replied, ¡°Nick, now isn¡¯t the time for a lecture. Don¡¯t get me wrong, I¡¯m interested, but save it for later. I think everyone is buying it. Well, maybe not Rose, but that chick is sharp.¡± ¡°Yeah, she is something alright. Are you sure we should sic Vera on her? That seems like overkill. Are you sure this isn¡¯t about how attractive you think she is?¡± asked Nick. Nero replied easily, ¡°I¡¯m not going to say that¡¯s not part of it. She¡¯s smoking, but that¡¯s not the point. I think she is just really smart. I think she and Vera would either get along great, or try to kill each other. Either way, I trust Vera to handle her. And we can¡¯t let the general¡¯s plan go unanswered. Remember, he flat out LIED to us. I was an idiot and let on that I knew, so that¡¯s on me. But, now we have to deal with the aftermath. I don¡¯t know what the general will do with that information, so we have to choose a battlefield. By making this about Rose¡¯s allegiance, we shape the conflict around something we don¡¯t mind losing.¡± Nick¡¯s concern was clear over their private link. ¡°I don¡¯t really understand all this political maneuvering, but I trust you. Now how is your shield really doing?¡± he asked. Nero replied, ¡°No issues. It¡¯s not that much different than holding a spell-form. But, we really need to sit down and go over how to properly form an essence-shield. I think I¡¯m missing something.¡± Nick said, ¡°Just be patient. We¡¯ll be back in Dorchester soon enough. For now, we have to deal with what¡¯s in front of us. This is going to be a complicated few days. And I think we¡¯ve exhausted our arguments about the shield spell. We¡¯ll need something else to focus on, or people are going to start getting suspicious.¡± Nero asked, ¡°How about you try ¡®grounding¡¯ me?¡± Nick replied, ¡°Huh? I don¡¯t understand.¡± ¡°You know¡­ like how you ¡®ground¡¯ a kid. Tell me that I¡¯m going to be confined to my estate when we get back, as it¡¯s too dangerous out here for me,¡± said Nero. Nick¡¯s amusement came through loud and clear. ¡°Have me really play into the father angle? That¡¯s good. Oh! I could say that completing your trials is an unnecessary risk, and that we can revisit the issue when you¡¯re older. And then I can say that you should transfer all your assets to Vera, so that we can take care of you. Then you can act like a child and throw a tantrum!¡± he said. Nero sent over a mental chuckle, and replied, ¡°Well¡­ It looks like tonight might be fun. I really doubt they¡¯ll spend any time plotting their moves when they¡¯re too busy worrying about us bringing down the wilds on them.¡± Nick said, ¡°Well, you¡¯re doing fine with your pulling. I can¡¯t reach out as far as you can. That last group you found was out of my range. Is it just me, or are the monsters and beasts getting harder to find?¡± ¡°No, it¡¯s not just you. I think this area has already been cleared. There is still plenty of horrors out there, but it¡¯s not as dense as it used to be. Don¡¯t worry though, I¡¯m getting better at telegraphing our position,¡± said Nero. ¡°Well, be sure to keep it up. We¡¯re making a killing with the essence crystals, and all this combat is keeping them from realizing where we¡¯re going. The essence is starting to thin, and it¡¯s getting easier to diffuse our presence,¡± he said. Nero replied, ¡°That¡¯s awesome, keep it up. I¡¯ve been watching closely, and I think I can take over for you tonight, so you can finally get some sleep. Don¡¯t worry Nick, I¡¯ve got your back.¡± ¡°Me too, Nero. Once we get in range of the city, we¡¯re in the clear. They¡¯ll learn what it means to mess with two mages who did their homework!¡± said Nick with pride. Nero replied frostily, ¡°OK. Never say that again. The next time Cathleen makes a speech about northern bad-asses, be sure to take notes. You suck at being inspirational .¡± ¡°Noted. Is that why you keep dismissing my T-shirt ideas?¡± asked Nick. ¡°Yes. Yes it is,¡± replied Nero. The entire group moved through the forest, completely oblivious to the two mages¡¯ conversation. As far as they knew, they were heading for Gate 15, where they were planning on handing Mike to the local guards. Nick and Nero¡¯s plans were proceeding well. Chapter 102 - Fireside mind games. Lord Blackwood cautiously entered the once familiar office. He had been here many times, but that was when Mage-adept Cranston had been the court mage. Fondly, Blackwood recalled his interactions with the former court mage. That man may have been an idiot, but he had known how to play the game. He had always been available for a favor, and his requests were always simple. Lord Blackwood looked around the room, noticing the changes. Everything was different now, even the rugs have been replaced. While he surveyed the room, he locked eyes with the man currently behind the desk. Lord Blackwood felt a chill as he remembered that it was this man who had killed Cranston in a mage-duel. Offering a shallow bow, he said, ¡°Arch-mage Jennings, I¡¯ve been told that I may be able to offer some service to you?¡± Lord Blackwood stood up straight, and plastered a polite and endearing smile on his face. He had spent countless hours crafting the persona of a helpful gentleman, and he was very good at it. The arch-mage¡¯s cold eyes held Lord Blackwood in place, and the man snorted in response to the greeting. Jennings raised his hand, and offered him a chair while saying, ¡°Take a seat, Lord Blackwood. We have a great deal to talk about.¡± With a polite nod, Blackwood took the offered chair, and replied, ¡°I¡¯m eager to be of service, arch-mage.¡± Jennings face was stoic as he said, ¡°I¡¯m sure you are. Now I¡¯d first like to caution you from doing anything drastic. Sometimes people don¡¯t think things through, and I¡¯d hate to have to do something drastic in response.¡± At this point, Lord Blackwood was almost positive that the arch-mage knew of his plot to kill Lord Walker, yet he knew better than admit to anything, so he cocked his head to the side and looked at the arch-mage as if he had no idea what the man was getting at. ¡°I¡¯m sure I¡¯ll be able to handle whatever issue you are dealing with. How about you start by telling me about your problem. I promise to do everything in my power to help you,¡± he said with the utmost sincerity. Arch-mage Jennings huffed in annoyance, and replied, ¡°Look here Blackwood, I don¡¯t have time for these stupid games. But you¡¯re right about one thing, I should start at the beginning. I want to know when you started sleeping with Deidre Cosgrave.¡± The arch-mage¡¯s voice was full of repressed rage, while his face betrayed nothing. Out of all the questions that Lord Blackwood was mentally preparing to answer, ¡®when did he first sleep with Deidre Cosgrave¡¯ wasn¡¯t even on the list. Lord Blackwood stuttered in shock, ¡°Uh¡­. What? How did you¡­? I didn¡¯t¡­. We haven¡¯t¡­¡± Arch-mage Jennings waved his hand in dismissal of the man¡¯s evasions, and said, ¡°I know for a fact that you have been sleeping with her. What I want to know is WHEN the affair started, and the circumstances which led to the affair. I¡¯m trying to understand how I missed it.¡± Lord Blackwood closed his mouth and stared at the ancient mage. Even though Jennings was probably over 700, the man still looked youthful. As he stared into those cold eyes, he realized that the man already knew enough to have him executed. It was now just a matter of the details. With a sigh, Blackwood slumped in his chair. Offering the arch-mage a slight smirk, he said, ¡°I thought I had been so careful. It was a mistake. Almost a week ago, after her brother was banished, I saw her crying. All of her plans were failing, and her caretaker had just withdrawn her support. The poor girl was worried about her brother, and she didn¡¯t know what to do. She looked just like her mother did all those years ago, surrounded by enemies while trying to keep it together. I wanted to help, so I took her somewhere private where we wouldn¡¯t be seen by the staff.¡± His eyes glossed over at the memory, and he continued, ¡°We talked for hours. It had been a while since we had some time to catch up. She has grown into a remarkable young woman. We shared a few glasses of dwarven whiskey, and one thing led to another and we -¡± Arch-mage Jennings¡¯ eyebrows shot up as he interrupted, ¡°Where in the hells did you get dwarven whiskey in Dorchester?¡± Confused, Lord Blackwood came out of his memory and refocused on the arch-mage. He replied, ¡°Lord Bevin gave me a few bottles when he was trying to garner support for the early evacuation of the city. He has always been a good friend, and I offered what support I could for his plot. Why does it matter?¡± Jennings frowned in thought, and said, ¡°So you two got drunk and had sex. I¡¯m assuming you both wanted to keep it secret, as I can¡¯t imagine either of you wanted her mother to find out. Consorts are usually executed for things like this.¡± Nodding, Lord Blackwood replied, ¡°Yes. We both knew that it was a mistake. It only happened the one time. We were behind a privacy ward, and I made sure there was no chance of conception. Both of us agreed to put it behind us, and move on. How did you find out anyway?¡± Arch-mage Jennings waved away the question, and instead asked, ¡°So after that, you agreed to be part of her plan to kill Lord Walker?¡± Surprised at the change of subject, Lord Blackwood asked, ¡°Why does that matter?¡± Some anger leaked into his voice, as Arch-mage Jennings said, ¡°I want to know your thought process. When exactly did you decide to aid her in the plot to kill Lord Walker? Answer the question.¡± Shrugging, Lord Blackwood replied, ¡°Well, at first I was just going to put her in touch with a fixer I know who works out of gate 15, while doing my best to discourage her. But considering our¡­ situation¡­ I decided to help her out. Her plan wasn¡¯t terrible, and I happened to know a few hunter teams who would be capable of doing the job. It all just kinda happened. A very capable team was available, and I already had several contacts involved in the training program. I even had a mage approach me looking for some side-work. It didn¡¯t take much effort at all. It was as if, the plan came together on its own. One of my sons even reached out to me, asking me for a favor. It just so happened that he was on the command team for the training facility where Lord Walker was stationed. He was hesitant to help, but I persuaded him. It all just worked out.¡± Arch-mage Jennings was nodding along with a thoughtful look on his face. Quietly, he muttered, ¡°Almost as if it were fate, huh?¡± Suddenly, the door to Jennings¡¯ office burst open, and Mage-adept Newbanks walked in unannounced. For once, her face showed some emotion. She looked worried. ¡°Why aren¡¯t you responding to your pings and connection requests?¡± she said quickly. Surprised to see her so flustered, Jennings responded, ¡°I didn¡¯t want to be bothered for the moment. Why? What¡¯s happened?¡± ¡°The mage council lost their connection to Lord Walker. And now no one can find him,¡± she said, while frowning. Jennings¡¯ opened up his senses, and immediately had to start swatting away connection requests. Reaching out, he quickly located Nero¡¯s essence trail and hurled his mind through the ether. But when he reached the end of the trail, he only saw an empty clearing that nature was in the process of reclaiming. There had been a fight, and he could see some monster remains that hadn¡¯t fully dispersed. Yet, there were no signs of Nero, his trail ended there. Spreading out his field, he tried to locate the essence tag he had put on the young man. He could tell it still existed, but he could only get a directional heading. It would take some effort to find him, as he could no longer surf the young man¡¯s essence trail. Looking at the two curious people in the room, he said, ¡°Well. That¡¯s an interesting development.¡± Jennings now had a decision to make. He could reach out and probably find the young man, but the entire city would notice his psychic presence. The feeling of pressure would probably cause mass panic, and most likely clog the emergency response teams with pings questioning what was happening. On the other hand, he could keep his touch feather-light, but it could take hours to isolate the young man¡¯s signature. Unauthorized use of content: if you find this story on Amazon, report the violation. Rubbing his chin, Jennings considered his options as Lord Blackwood and Mage-adept Newbanks stared at him with confusion. ----- Nero was on watch for what would be, hopefully, his last night in the wilds. If Nick¡¯s calculations were correct, sometime tomorrow they should reach the road. Nero was skeptical when it came to Nick¡¯s navigational skills, but he didn¡¯t really have much choice but to trust him. The entire plan hinged on whether or not they could reach a gate his enemies weren¡¯t currently watching. If Nick were to be believed, they had been hidden since they had found Rose. At Nero¡¯s request, Nick had been diffusing their signature without letting the rest of the team know. It wasn¡¯t easy for him, and Nero had been forced to find reasons to slow their pace because of the stress it had been putting on the poor man. But Nero had finally gotten the hang of it, and had taken over for the old mage. Nero glanced over at his sleeping friend. He couldn¡¯t help but feel lucky to have met the man. It was a rare thing to find someone who was completely trustworthy. It was even harder to find a trustworthy person who was willing to lie for you. Chuckling quietly, he returned to scanning his side of the forest. Even though they had their misdirection ward up, Sergeant Wesker had made it clear that only idiots didn¡¯t take their watch seriously. So, Nero buckled down and did his duty. Though, with his psychic field stretched out over the camp, he could tell there were no enemies around. Part of his attention was being held by the technique for essence diffusion. Nero smiled at the memory of that Populator who had told him it would be years before he would be able to hide his presence. He really enjoyed proving people wrong. Especially people who were in positions of authority. It will be unfortunate when people stop underestimating him. Nero had learned how to diffuse his essence trail from watching Nick. The concept turned out to be more complicated than the technique. The idea was to ¡®shake¡¯ the ethereal plane in a wide area, so that their essence trails were broken up. Over their private connection, Nick had tried to explain to Nero how exactly that happened, but Nero didn¡¯t understand what the man was talking about. However, vibrating his psychic field turned out to be pretty simple. It was like humming, but with his mind instead of his mouth. The best part about it was how much room for error there was. Even if he took a second or two, in order to readjust his grip on the ambient essence, it wouldn¡¯t be a problem. According to Nick, it took around 5 minutes before an essence trail started to solidify enough to be followed. There was a caveat though. Nick had warned him that if the mage who had been tracking them had gotten close enough, they could have placed an ¡®essence-tag¡¯ on them. If that had happened, then there wasn¡¯t much they could do about it. Nick had said he was reasonably sure they were clean, but it wasn¡¯t his specialty. And even if they were tagged, depending on the distance, it was difficult to find more than a directional heading. Nero could only hope that their efforts proved sufficient. The last thing they needed was another assassin team being told their position. ¡®Just 12 hours. We just need to hold out for 12 hours,¡¯ he thought with some worry. Opening his identity, he checked to see how he was doing.
Name Nero Walker Level 12
Race Human Growth 31%
Tier 1 Condition 100%
Age 14 Center 72%
Body 3 Mind 5
Soul 2 Confluence 10
Stars 0 Pillars 1 / 1
His growth had really slowed down, but it was his center which had him worried. Typically, sitting around doing nothing caused his center levels to raise, not lower. But keeping the essence diffusion field active was stressful. Nick had warned him, but Nero had been sure he could handle it. Remembering the old man¡¯s advice, he tried to firm his resolve. Nick had said it was a matter of concentration and will. The more you kept yourself together, the more center you could hold on to. Clenching his hands into a fist, he scowled at the forest. ¡®I got this. Eventually this will be just like breathing. I won¡¯t even notice I¡¯m doing it,¡¯ he told himself. Through his psychic field, he sensed Rose silently approaching him from around the fire. Turning to look at her over his shoulder, he saw her freeze in surprise. Smiling, he said quietly, ¡°What can I do for you, Rose?¡± Shocked that she had been caught, she shook her head in amusement. ¡®The little bastard is full of tricks. I need to keep in mind who it is I¡¯m dealing with. Don¡¯t trust what you see,¡¯ she reminded herself. Joining Nero on his makeshift bench, she asked, ¡°I wanted to touch base with you while everyone is sleeping.¡± Nero nodded then said, ¡°You know Mike is just over there on watch with us.¡± He gestured toward the other side of the camp. Rose smiled and replied, ¡°Yeah, but he won¡¯t say anything. He¡¯s terrified of you. Whenever you pay attention to him, he starts shaking.¡± Nero shrugged, and said, ¡°OK. So what do you want to talk about?¡± Pursing her lips in order to look serious, she locked eyes with Nero and said, ¡°I want to know why you and Nick are pretending to fight.¡± Holding up her hands in surrender preemptively, she continued, ¡°I won¡¯t say anything. I just want to know what the plan is. I¡¯ll help however you want. Tell me what I need to know so I don¡¯t screw up whatever plot you have going.¡± Grinning, Nero said, ¡°I figured you weren¡¯t buying it.¡± He checked on the team through his psychic field, making sure that the only person awake was Mike. Keeping his voice down, he said, ¡°We¡¯re not heading toward Gate 15. We¡¯re going to 14. Nick and I have been blinding the mage who has been tracking us. As far as everyone knows, we¡¯re in the wind. Hopefully, we can make it to Dorchester without anyone noticing.¡± Rose¡¯s eyes were wide with surprise. She asked, ¡°But why pretend at all? And who¡¯s in on it?¡± Nero turned to look out into the forest, scanning for threats. While keeping his voice low, he said, ¡°Only Nick and I know the plan. We don¡¯t know who we can trust. Wesker is an unknown, Mike could have a fail-safe, and Cathleen wouldn¡¯t care anyways. The argument was meant to be a distraction, along with some misinformation. If they are currently in contact with anyone, Wesker and Mike will report that we were at each other¡¯s throats the whole time. And even better, while they are paying attention to the fight, they aren¡¯t paying attention to where we¡¯re going. That¡¯s why Nick is carrying the direction-finder and not Wesker. He¡¯s acting as the navigator, but only he and I know where we are going.¡± Rose leaned in and asked, ¡°But what about me? I could just report the ruse, and all of this would be for nothing.¡± Shaking his head, Nero said, ¡°You¡¯ll wait to say anything until after we¡¯re in Dorchester. By that point, it won¡¯t matter. The only one who¡¯d believe you is the general, and I¡¯d welcome him getting conflicting reports. Feel free to tell him about this conversation. I¡¯m sure he¡¯ll believe you.¡± Rose looked confused, and a little worried. ¡°Why wouldn¡¯t he believe me?¡± she asked. Grinning from ear to ear, Nero replied, ¡°Everyone other than me wanted to leave you in the wilds. Think how that will look on the report. Did you get emotionally compromised by your target? Should the general remove you from the team? Or maybe he should keep you here, but put someone into position to watch you. Are you using me? Or am I using you? Or neither? Layers upon layers, my dear Rose. Like I said, misinformation.¡± Rose paled as she looked at the shadowed face of the little lord. In a hushed whisper she said, ¡°I just wanted to be a hunter.¡± Nero patted her knee consolingly, and stood up. Even though he wasn¡¯t very tall, he still managed to look down on her as he said, ¡°Keep telling yourself that. I¡¯m sure you don¡¯t have a secret ¡®control fetish¡¯. Anyway, you watch this side, I¡¯ll take your old post. Get some rest tonight, tomorrow is going to be interesting.¡± Nero sauntered off to take Rose¡¯s place for the rest of the night. She watched him leave with a pit in her stomach. ¡®He¡¯s got it all figured out. Did he know that I would come talk to him? What¡¯s his goal? Was that even the real plan?¡¯ she wondered. Shaking her head, she did her best to put the little lord out of her mind. She stared off into the forest and resumed her watch. But she couldn¡¯t stop thinking about what Lord Walker had meant when he said she had a ¡®control fetish¡¯. She had never heard the term, but she didn¡¯t think she was sexually excited by the idea of being in control. Frowning, all she could do was mull over what might have given him that idea. Chapter 103 - On the road again. Several teams had already reported in, and the camp was starting to fill up. More hands meant more work being done. Captain Angelton walked around, silently observing the various tasks that were being tended to. The sounds of construction felt like a march toward the civilization of this small stretch of the wilds. By tomorrow, everyone should be here, and then the real work could begin. ¡°Captain, I need to speak with you privately,¡± Sergeant Blackwood said, sounding worried. Raising an eyebrow in surprise, the captain asked, ¡°What¡¯s wrong?¡± Gesturing with his head, Sergeant Blackwood signaled for the captain to follow him. They made their way to a small area where no one was working, away from the center of the camp. Captain Angelton¡¯s height had him looking down at his longtime subordinate. ¡°All right Sergeant, what¡¯s the problem?¡± he asked. Sergeant Blackwood sighed, and replied, ¡°There was a plot to assassinate Lord Walker. I did w-¡± The Captain took a step forward and loomed over the smaller man. ¡°Explain. Now,¡± he ordered. Grimacing in annoyance, Sergeant Blackwood said, ¡°I was trying to. Just listen for a second. My asshole of a father apparently planned some assassination attempt in the wilds. He blackmailed me with a reassignment out of the wilds, and threatened to disinherit me if I didn¡¯t go along with it. He had me provide the planned routes for the teams. Also, he told me to lookout for a group of three hunters, and to make sure they didn¡¯t make it back to Dorchester if they were captured. Unfortunately, that¡¯s all I could find out.¡± Captain Angelton struggled to contain his fury, and with a tight voice he asked, ¡°Why am I just hearing about this now?¡± Scoffing, the sergeant replied, ¡°Because you keep secrets like an amateur. I love you like a brother, but you¡¯re not very good with the political aspects of the game.¡± Reluctantly nodding, the captain said, ¡°Fair enough. I¡¯m assuming you had a plan, and you¡¯re telling me now because something went wrong?¡± The sergeant¡¯s shoulders slumped, and he said, ¡°That¡¯s putting it mildly. When I was creating the information packets, I put something extra in Lord Walkers. I included everything I knew about the plot, and some recommendations on how he should handle it. When he didn¡¯t say anything the morning we left Dorchester, I figured he had a plan in place, and I wasn¡¯t needed.¡± Running a hand through his hair, he sighed and continued, ¡°But they should be here by now. I tried using the private communication crystal I was given to find out what¡¯s happening, but my father isn¡¯t answering. By now, the assassins should have already acted. Ideally, they¡¯d be either dead, or captured. Now you know as much as I do.¡± Captain Angelton pondered what he had just heard, and asked, ¡°Why didn¡¯t you just report it?¡± The sergeant looked at his captain fondly and said, ¡°Until the plot played out, I had no evidence. I needed to get my father caught in the act. Acting prematurely would just result in a slap on his wrist and my complete destruction. I wouldn¡¯t be surprised if he had me killed for the betrayal.¡± The captain nodded, and turned around to look over the camp. After quickly locating Specialist Howard, he said over his shoulder, ¡°Come on. Let¡¯s find out what¡¯s happening.¡± They made their way through the camp to the grumpy specialist. The man was sitting down on a hastily made chair, reading a book while doing his best to ignore all the work going on around him. Walking up, Captain Angelton said in his command voice, ¡°Specialist Howard, I want you to scry Sergeant Wesker¡¯s team. I need a situation report.¡± Looking up from his book in surprise. He saw the nervous sergeant standing next to the captain. He didn¡¯t know what was going on, but he could tell it was probably important. Shrugging, as it didn¡¯t really matter to him, he waved his book into his personal space, and closed his eyes. Sergeant Blackwood and Captain Angelton watched as the specialist closed his eyes and concentrated. One minute passed, then two minutes, and then they saw the specialist¡¯s face change from concentration to confusion. He opened his eyes, looked up at them and said, ¡°Um¡­ Captain¡­ I can¡¯t find them. I think they¡¯re using essence diffusion to hide their trail. I can track them to a clearing, but I can¡¯t tell you where they went from there.¡± Both Captain Angelton and Sergeant Blackwood looked down at the seated specialist with surprised looks on their faces. The captain asked, ¡°Did you show Walker how to hide his essence trail?¡± Scoffing, Specialist Howard said, ¡°Of course not. He couldn¡¯t do it anyway. It must be Nick. But, I doubt even he knows how to do it. He¡¯s a researcher, I doubt he¡¯d bother learning a technique that is both a pain in the ass, and completely useless outside of the wilds.¡± Sergeant Blackwood asked, ¡°What do you mean?¡± ¡°Well, it¡¯s just stopping people from following your trail. If they know where you are, they can still scry you. I can only tell it¡¯s essence diffusion that they¡¯re using because I can sense their trail breaking down at the clearing I found. The technique is pointless inside a city. If someone knows where you hang out, they can find you easily enough. It¡¯s like I said, the only time its useful is when you don¡¯t want to be tracked while you¡¯re covering a lot of ground,¡± said the specialist. The three exchanged confused glances, as they thought about what that implied. Sergeant Blackwood was the first to speak. ¡°I don¡¯t get it. Maybe some of them are dead, and the others are running scared?¡± The specialist said, ¡°No. I told you. I felt their essence signatures breaking up. They were all alive in that clearing, and then actively hid themselves. I just don¡¯t know why.¡± Captain Angelton straightened up and said, ¡°All right. I¡¯m going to report what we know to command. We¡¯ll just have to deal with whatever happens as it happens.¡± Turning to look at Sergeant Blackwood, his face took on a look of pity, and said, ¡°I¡¯ll do what I can to mitigate your responsibility, but if anything happened to Lord Walker, I¡¯m not sure my help will matter much.¡± Sergeant Blackwood looked at his longtime friend and said, ¡°I understand, sir. I did my best with what I had available. If it results in my loss, then I have no regrets.¡± Specialist Howard watched the two men have a bro-moment. Sighing in annoyance, he pulled his book back out of his personal space and said, ¡°You two go deal with your personal matters somewhere else. Just let me know what happened to that little troublemaker. In the meantime, I¡¯d appreciate some peace and quiet.¡± Sergeant Blackwood and Captain Angelton shared a look of embarrassment, then walked off. The captain headed toward the newly built command room to report what he¡¯d learned, while the sergeant followed dutifully along. ----- Their night had passed peacefully, and he had to admit Nick looked much better after some rest. Nero had debated whether or not to use his psychic field to pull in some monsters, but in the end, he decided to let everyone get some sleep. They were almost out of the wilds, and the time for mind games would soon be over. If you discover this tale on Amazon, be aware that it has been unlawfully taken from Royal Road. Please report it. As they got closer to their destination, the availability of enemies for Nero to call dwindled. His field was currently about 120 ft in diameter, larger if he pushed it. If anything came anywhere near them, he could feel it. Even so, it had been almost an hour since they had an encounter. Wesker was in the front of their formation as usual, so he was the first to notice the change in the forest. Nero heard him shout, ¡°What in the hells? There shouldn¡¯t be a road here?¡± Nero and Nick were near the back of the formation, and they shared a look of resignation. It was time to come clean with the plan. As Sergeant Wesker led them through the last of the woods, they emerged onto a wide dirt road. The sergeant checked the road for travelers, but there was no one. Even though the road stretched far into the distance, in either direction it was completely clear. Nero stepped onto the road and said in a firm voice, ¡°OK everyone, listen up. We needed to disappear for a while, so I made a plan. For the past day or two, Nick and I have been hiding our essence trail. Without knowing specifically where we are, they can¡¯t scry us. I also diverted us, so we didn¡¯t head directly toward Gate 15. In fact, this road will lead us straight to Gate 14. I¡¯m sorry if you feel deceived, but you¡¯re just going to have to deal with it. It was a matter of ¡­. um¡­ ¡®operational security¡¯¡­ yeah. That sounds right.¡± Nick added, ¡°We needed to make sure we could get to Dorchester without anyone noticing.¡± Unsurprisingly, Cathleen didn¡¯t seem to care. She just kept her eyes on the treeline, while tapping her feet impatiently. Nero smiled at her predictable response. He figured, if she cared at all, it was about how they would be facing fewer enemies while traveling the road. Nero had read that the main roads were created with an ¡®intent¡¯ enchantment, but it hadn¡¯t seemed relevant at the time. And, as far as Nero was concerned, he still didn¡¯t care how it worked. Mike and Rose both looked interested in what Nero was saying, but were unbothered. The only one who seemed to have a problem with their surprise destination was the sergeant. ¡°Operational Security, huh?¡± said Sergeant Wesker through gritted teeth. Nero was pretty sure he¡¯d never seen the man so angry. Even from 10 ft away he could see the vein pulsing on the man¡¯s forehead. Holding up his hands like he was calming a horse, Nero said, ¡°Look Sarge, it¡¯s nothing personal. The fewer people who knew, the less likely it was that we¡¯d be discovered. How about you just chalk it up to one of my crazy ideas, and move on with your life. We¡¯ll be back in Dorchester in no time, and you can write a scathing report detailing my many failings. That¡¯ll make you feel better, won¡¯t it?¡± The sergeant stared at the young man who constantly caused him psychological torment, and said, ¡°Fine. Let¡¯s get moving.¡± Right as he turned around and started marching, Nick spoke up, ¡°Oh, sergeant. Two things. One, Dorchester is that way.¡± Nick pointed the opposite direction from where the sergeant was stomping off. The man stopped, and seemed to deflate. His head drooped, along with his shoulders. ¡°And two?¡± he asked without raising his head. Nero grinned at the sergeant¡¯s plight, and gestured for Nick to continue. With a hesitant tone, Nick said, ¡°We kind of need to collect everyone¡¯s links.¡± The sergeant¡¯s anger returned full force as he spun around and shouted, ¡°What?!?¡± Nero answered with a smile. ¡°Well, we can¡¯t have you all reporting in the moment we get in range of Dorchester¡¯s hub, now can we? That would defeat the entire purpose of us heading toward Gate 14. Come on Sarge, think it through.¡± Without any fuss, Cathleen tossed her link over to Nero, who caught it easily. He turned to Mike and Rose. Rose¡¯s face looked sour, but she slowly reached into her pockets to pull out her link. Mike¡¯s blank expression, aptly conveyed how defeated he was both mentally and emotionally. He didn¡¯t need to toss over his link, as it had already been collected from him during his capture, along with the communication crystal he had used to contact the mage who had been tracking them. Rose said, ¡°I¡¯ll want this back as soon as possible.¡± Then tossed her link over. Nero grinned at her and replied, ¡°Sure thing, Rosy.¡± ¡°Rosy?¡± she asked with a reluctant grin. Nero shrugged and said, ¡°Just trying out a nickname. Don¡¯t worry about it, I¡¯ll workshop it.¡± Turning to the sergeant, Nero¡¯s easy smile disappeared. Locking eyes with the man, Nero stared him down. Sergeant Wesker looked at Nero like he was contemplating murder, then his eyes darted around to see everyone staring at him. Reluctantly, he pulled his link out of his pocket and tossed it over to Nick. Nero smiled at the man, then offered an easy nod. His voice was light and unconcerned as he asked, ¡°You wouldn¡¯t have another way to contact anyone, would you?¡± The sergeant bristled, and said, ¡°No, I do not.¡± Nero scoffed, and said, ¡°See. This is why you had to turn over your link. You¡¯re about as trustworthy as a used¡­ horse salesman?¡± Nero took a moment to think over his analogy, and then said, ¡°No, let¡¯s go with a noble. You¡¯re about as trustworthy as a noble with an agenda.¡± Nodding happily, he added, ¡°Yeah, that works.¡± The sergeant could see Cathleen staring hard at him, while Nick took several steps back. He said, ¡°I didn¡¯t contact anyone.¡± Nero said, ¡°I didn¡¯t say you did. I just asked if you had something that COULD contact anyone.¡± The sergeant pulled out a small communication crystal and held it up. ¡°How did you know?¡± he asked. Nero put his hands on his hips and said, ¡°I didn¡¯t KNOW, I just assumed. It seemed unlikely that the army would actually send us out into the wilds without any way of contacting anyone. I¡¯m guessing that is a direct line to either the captain or Gate 15 command?¡± The sergeant took a moment to look at the communication crystal in his hand, then tossed it over to Nick. He said, ¡°It¡¯s an emergency line to Captain Angelton. He has the command crystal. I didn¡¯t contact him, even though I probably should have. I don¡¯t care what word games you play, that man is trustworthy.¡± Nero shrugged, and said, ¡°Maybe so. But why take the chance? Someone close to him might intercept the message, or any number of other scenarios. There is no upside to keeping him informed. It¡¯s better for us to just get back to Dorchester on our own.¡± Clapping his hands, as if he was concluding the conversation, Nero continued, ¡°Now that that¡¯s out of the way, let¡¯s get going. We should only be a few hours from our destination. Right, Nick?¡± Nick nodded, and said, ¡°Yeah, I¡¯m almost positive this should lead us to Gate 14. I do know that Dorchester is that way,¡± he pointed, then added, ¡°And with some simple calculations, I estimated our route toward Gate 14¡¯s first side gate.¡± Nero wasn¡¯t sure what Nick meant by ¡®side gate¡¯, but didn¡¯t feel like getting into it. Instead, he said, ¡°All right. Let¡¯s stay in formation in case something jumps us. After all, no reason to let our guard down now that we¡¯re so close to the finish line.¡± He saw Cathleen nod seriously at his caution, and he and his companions were soon on their way. Nero opened a private connection to Nick and said, ¡°That went about as well as we could have hoped.¡± Mentally scoffing, Nick replied, ¡°That¡¯s an understatement. Do you think the sergeant has been in contact with the captain?¡± Nero said, ¡°It doesn¡¯t really matter. He had no idea where we were. But, I think we¡¯ve kept him off-balance enough for him to have kept putting off the decision. He probably didn¡¯t report in.¡± ¡°Do you want me to take over the essence diffusion?¡± asked Nick. ¡°No, I got it. It¡¯s not that hard once you get used to it. Remind me to ask you about how to actually BLOCK scrying. But I have a more pressing question,¡± replied Nero. Interested, Nick asked, ¡°Oh? What¡¯s the question?¡± ¡°Why can¡¯t I store these links in my personal space?¡± asked Nero. Nero could feel Nick¡¯s disappointment over the connection as the man said, ¡°Dammit Nero. It¡¯s obviously because they aren¡¯t yours. I know you are smart enough to figure that out on your own.¡± After taking a few seconds to think about what Nick said, he realized what he was missing. His link was saturated with his center, which was how the hub knew who he was. And that¡¯s why he could store his own link. But other people¡¯s links were filled with their center, or their ¡®soul signature¡¯. Nick was right, it was pretty obvious when he thought about it. True to form, Nero refused to admit his shortcomings, and said, ¡°I was just confirming a theory. No reason to be a dick about it. Anyway, we should figure out what we¡¯re going to tell Vera.¡± Mentally chuckling, Nick was kind enough to not focus on Nero¡¯s asinine question. They spent the remaining travel time planning their next moves. They would soon be in Dorchester, and things would transition from fighting monsters, to playing politics. The battlefield changes, but the game stays the same. Chapter 104 - Inside the walls, the battles are with words. General Branson stormed into the conference room. His day had gone from good to bad faster than he had thought possible. One minute, he was proudly approving the wall upgrades, and the next he was hearing that one of his pet projects was currently the subject of an assassination attempt aided by members of HIS army. The audacity of the nobles was unacceptable, and he was out for blood. ¡°All right. What do we know?¡± asked General Branson without even offering a greeting. City-Lord Cosgrave was sitting at the head of the table, looking like she had just been told her favorite food was unavailable. On her right was the implacable Lord Bennings who, as usual, seemed perfectly content to watch the drama around her unfold. And on her left was the only person in Dorchester who was capable of making the general feel small, Arch-mage Jennings. Next to him was the new court mage, Mage-adept Newbanks. Everyone in the room looked to the city-lord, waiting for her response. Meanwhile, the general kept walking into the room. He took a seat next to Lord Bennings and glared at the city-lord. Sighing, City-Lord Cosgrave said, ¡°It seems my daughter along with my former consort, Lord Blackwood, have conspired to assassinate the newly risen Lord Walker. Honestly, you probably know more than I do at the moment.¡± The general said, ¡°I received word from Lord Walker¡¯s captain. Apparently, Lord Blackwood¡¯s son, while serving as a sergeant, tried to be clever, but it seems to have backfired. Currently, no one at the camp knows anything, and they are currently unable to locate Lord Walker¡¯s team.¡± Jennings spoke up, ¡°I can tell you that Lord Walker is alive, and he is currently heading toward Dorchester. However, it will take some time if you want me to be more specific.¡± Lord Bennings interjected, ¡°What of the conspirators? If they¡¯ve been apprehended, then charges must be decided. You cannot just hold them without filing a reason, along with the corresponding paperwork.¡± Mage-adept Newbanks firmly nodded in agreement, while Jennings just rolled his eyes. City-Lord Cosgrave said, ¡°I¡¯ve had the guards confine Deidre to her rooms, but Lord Blackwood¡¯s whereabouts are unknown.¡± Jennings said, ¡°I have Blackwood along with the mage he hired to track our little troublemaker.¡± General Branson said, ¡°And I haven¡¯t decided what I¡¯m going to do about Lord Blackwood¡¯s son. The investigation into the incident is ongoing.¡± Lord Bennings addressed each of them in turn. ¡°City-Lord Cosgrave, you are within your rights to confine your progeny as she is still of direct lineage to you and hasn¡¯t declared her own house,¡± she said to the city-lord. Turning to the general, she said, ¡°General Branson, as Lord Blackwood¡¯s son is sworn in service to the army, the military code of conduct will come into play if you desire to punish him further than reassignment. Be aware that any military investigation must be overseen by the Tower of Law since the incident in question occurred within Dorchester¡¯s borders.¡± Her eyes hardened as she looked across the table at the mages. ¡°Finally, Arch-mage Jennings, you cannot imprison a mage without filing charges, let alone a lord who sits on the leadership council. You need to immediately release them into the custody of the Tower of Law, and file a statement on behalf of the Tower of Magic. Your records will, of course, be checked for their veracity.¡± After groaning with annoyance, Jennings replied, ¡°Fine. After all, they¡¯re the real victims here. Just send some of your goons to the mage tower and Newbanks here will hand them over.¡± He waved his hand, and Mage-adept Newbanks¡¯ eyes widened in shock as she disappeared with a golden ¡®pop¡¯. Lord Bennings frowned, and said, ¡°I really wish you hadn¡¯t done that. It¡¯s illegal to forcibly transport someone without their consent. I may not be able to stop you, but I will be filing an incident report and sending it to the Tower of Law in Hennings. You can expect to hear from them in the future.¡± Arch-mage Jennings gave her an unconcerned, blank look, and said, ¡°Uh-huh. Noted. Now can we get back to how we¡¯re going to handle this bureaucratic nightmare?¡± Raising an eyebrow in surprise, Lord Bennings said, ¡°What do you mean? The law is quite clear.¡± Face palming, Jennings muttered, ¡°Heavens above, save me from the idiocy of those around me.¡± General Branson ignored the enigmatic arch-mage, and asked Lord Bennings, ¡°What does that mean exactly?¡± Lord Bennings said matter-of-factly, ¡°Houses Cosgrave and Blackwood have conspired to assassinate a new noble currently under the protection of the royal family. Both houses will be disbanded, their assets seized, the heads of houses executed along with the conspirators, and a formal war for succession of the city-seat will be announced for the following week. The council of leadership will have 3 days to decide the game they will play, while the army will temporarily take command of the city.¡± General Branson sat in shock, while the city-lord paled in horror. Jennings couldn¡¯t take it, and shouted, ¡°Absolutely not! With what¡¯s currently happening outside the walls, that would be death sentence for the entire damned city! Are you insane!?!¡± Lord Bennings looked affronted and said, ¡°That¡¯s the law arch-mage. To ignore it is to invite destruction upon Dorchester regardless of whether or not the wilds are acting up. If we refuse to do our duty, then the Populators will wipe Dorchester from the map and rebuild a new city from our ruins.¡± Arch-mage Jennings¡¯ shoulders slumped in defeat. He seemed to sink into his chair, and his entire body went limp. He had REALLY let things get out of hand this time. Just then, he received a ping over the link in his pocket. Recognizing the soul signature, he bolted upright in his chair and accepted the connection request immediately. ¡°Nero? You¡¯re back in Dorchester?¡± he said both out loud and over the link. The entire room perked up with interest. This story has been taken without authorization. Report any sightings. ¡°Ha! Couldn¡¯t find me, huh? Suck on that, old man. I¡¯m guessing some people want to make some deals and offer me some goodies to keep my mouth shut. Consider this a friendly warning¡­ Vera¡¯s pissed. Have fun with that. I¡¯ll talk to you later, I¡¯m going to find a shower,¡± said Nero happily, as his psyche radiated smug satisfaction over the link before it disconnected abruptly. The room waited with baited breath, watching the arch-mage¡¯s face rapidly contort through several expressions. Annoyance, confusion, shock, and amusement all flashed across his face. Shaking his head in exasperation, he said, ¡°Well, I¡¯ve got good news and bad news.¡± General Branson said harshly, ¡°Speak man! What¡¯s the situation?¡± Looking at the shot-callers of the city, Jennings smirked and said, ¡°Nero¡¯s back, and there may be a way out for us to avoid a total disaster. That¡¯s the good news.¡± City-Lord Cosgrave¡¯s hushed voice asked, ¡°And what¡¯s the bad news.¡± Smiling ear-to-ear, he locked eyes with her and said, ¡°He told Vera on you.¡± Whatever blood was left in the city-lord¡¯s face vanished like underage kids abandoning a rave. She collapsed in her chair, imagining what that women would demand as compensation. Meanwhile, General Branson and Lord Bennings shared a nervous look. They both knew what was at stake, and both of them worried that Ms. Vera Salvatore-Verena knew as well. ----- The road to Dorchester remained empty, and they all shared a sigh of relief at the sight of the exterior town outside the walls. Increasing their pace, they reached the outskirts in just 20 minutes. Nero looked up the giant wall, wondering where exactly they were. He couldn¡¯t see a large gate like the one at Gate 15, but he didn¡¯t see a smaller one like Gate 7¡¯s either. From his vantage point, it looked like the entire wall was solid. Nero reminded himself that they were still probably an hours walk away from the base of the ridiculously over-sized monstrosity. As they weren¡¯t hiding their approach, they were quickly met by guards. Luckily, they were within range of the city-hub. While Nick contacted Vera, Nero attempted to take control of the situation. Sergeant Wesker smiled in relief at the approaching guards, planning to use his rank to his advantage. But, before he could say anything, he heard Walker shout, ¡°I¡¯m Lord Nero Walker, head of house Walker, and I demand to be escorted to the wall. I have just returned -¡± Sergeant Wesker interrupted angrily, ¡°Hey! We¡¯re back in Dorchester, and I¡¯m not going to put up with your insubordination any longer. Guards! Take everyone into custody, we¡¯ll sort this all out at the army compound.¡± As the tensions rose, Cathleen gripped her spear tight, and Rose backed up to gain some distance. Mike looked like he didn¡¯t care one way or another. However, Nick just smiled and shook his head. He felt sorry for the poor sergeant, Nero was going to ruin him. Doing his best to sound like a pompous asshole, Nero stood up straight and shouted right back, ¡°How dare you! I¡¯m not one of your men. You were charged with my protection in the wilds during my noble trial, and you led us into an ambush. I was nearly assassinated! As a new noble, I¡¯m under the protection of the House of Oglivarch. For you to stand there, after I personally resuscitated you, saving your very life, and have the gall, the sheer audacity, to demand my arrest. You, sir, are a disgrace to your uniform.¡± Nero took a moment to appreciate the shock on the sergeant¡¯s face, before turning to the 5 guards standing there with confused looks on their faces. He said, ¡°Guardians of Dorchester, I ask you to aid me in my time of need. As a lord of Dorchester, sworn to its defense, I must immediately report to the Tower of Law. Make sure this poor excuse for a soldier doesn¡¯t hinder me. I have a duty to see done, and I won¡¯t stand by and let politics get in the way.¡± The guards all straightened up at Nero¡¯s words, and in unison they turned to glare at the sergeant. Flummoxed, the man could only sputter, as his entire face was red with fury. Satisfied, Nero turned to his companions and locked eyes with Mike. He said, ¡°Stay close to me, and don¡¯t you dare try and run. I assure you¡­ you wouldn¡¯t get very far.¡± Nero watched the man nod quickly, trying to stop himself from shaking in fear. Turning back to the guards, Nero raised his chin and put on his ¡®serious¡¯ face. ¡°Come along guardians. We have to get to the Tower of Law before the enemies of Dorchester can make their move.¡± The guards all brandished their weapons and started looking around for hidden enemies. One of them, apparently the leader started shouting orders, ¡°All right, let¡¯s get the lord where he needs to go. No pings out. Collins, you and Oslo make sure that the sergeant doesn¡¯t get any ideas. Let¡¯s move people!¡± As two of the guards took up position around Sergeant Wesker, the group made their way toward the wall. Nero took the lead, walking like he owned the very ground he walked on. He did, however, take a moment to look over his shoulder and appreciate the look of complete confusion mixed with repressed rage on the sergeant¡¯s face. Sergeant Wesker couldn¡¯t understand what was happening. One minute, he was happy to see his fellow men in service to Dorchester. The next, he was being guarded by those same men. As he numbly allowed himself to be led forward, he turned to one of the guards and said, ¡°Look. We need to get to the army compound. I have to report in. That little bastard took my link.¡± The guard gave the sergeant a cold look, and replied, ¡°I¡¯m guessing you want us to just kill the lord right here in the middle of the street and call it an accident, huh? Well, don¡¯t you worry, we¡¯ll take you where you need to go.¡± On the other side of the sergeant, the other guard spoke up, ¡°A lord of Dorchester has requested our help in reporting an assassination attempt to the Tower of Law, and you think we¡¯ll fall for your tricks. You just keep walking, and don¡¯t try anything funny.¡± Nick was walking behind them, relaying to Vera what Nero was up to. He couldn¡¯t hide his smile, even though he made a solid effort. Nick hated to admit it, but Nero¡¯s antics were fun to watch, at least they were when they weren¡¯t happening to him. Rose payed close attention as the events unfolded, marveling at the little lord¡¯s masterful display. He had immediately taken control of the situation while making the sergeant look like a traitor. Rose didn¡¯t know what she should do. As she thought through her options, she followed along with the group, wondering if she should sneak off and report in. Cathleen was following along behind Mike. Now that they were back within the city limits, he was the only threat in the area. She sighed at that realization. Looking at the hunter, she didn¡¯t see a hunter, or an assassin, she only saw a man who¡¯d given up. He was no threat. Looking up at the wall, she grimaced and muttered, ¡°Well, back to civilization. Spending all our time talking, and wasting our days debating what to eat.¡± One of the guards was close enough to hear her, and said, ¡°Not everyone is cut out for the wilds, like us.¡± She turned her head to look at the grinning guard, and looked him up and down in appraisal. Snorting, she turned back toward the wall and said, ¡°Yup. Back to talking.¡± The guards expression soured, and he rolled his shoulders in offense. But, he wasn¡¯t stupid enough to say anything. He was well aware how northerners felt about southerners. Not that he¡¯d ever admit that they were partially right. Meanwhile, Nero was at the head of their little group, marching toward Dorchester with a smile on his face. He dropped his essence diffusion and felt the tension in his psychic field release. With a sigh of contentment, he mentally stretched. After a few seconds of peace, he opened a connection to the link in his pocket. Ignoring the pings waiting to be addressed, he sent a connection request to his good friend Jennings. After all, it was only polite to let the old man know that Nero was back in town. Nero chuckled as he thought to himself, ¡®I wonder if I can get them to make me a motorcycle? All of this walking is for chumps.¡¯ Chapter 105 - Weaponizing word of mouth. Vera was enjoying an early lunch while going over the status reports from her field teams. Taking a sip of her tea, her eyes darted across the hovering screens assimilating the information with a glance. Her skills in the arena of paperwork were unmatched, and she used them like a master swordsman scything through a sea of never-ending enemies. Yet, she never lost sight of the bigger picture. Each and every order she sent out was part of a larger game. She maneuvered her pieces, blocking her enemies while advancing her agenda. She turned their plots and plans against them, while inching ever closer to her goal. What that goal actually was, she wasn¡¯t entirely sure. She had too many plans and contingencies to focus on just one. Perhaps she would take over all of Dorchester¡¯s shipping. Or maybe she would take control of the city-seat. Maybe she would apply for a charter and found her own city. The details were immaterial, because as long as she came out ahead, she was happy. Tearing her attention away from her screens, she took a delicate bite of her finger sandwich. With a smile, she recalled a conversation she once had with her beloved Nicholas. He had asked what she was trying to accomplish, and she had replied that she simply wanted to win. Vera chuckled at the memory. Nicholas had spent an hour lecturing her on the ambiguity of her goal. For a scientist like him, the concept of an arbitrary victory condition was unacceptable. He had gotten so worked up about it, she couldn¡¯t help but take him to the bedroom. Afterwards, she had sent him into a frenzy when she smiled at him and declared, ¡°I win¡±. As she was recalling the good times with her absent husband, she was surprised to feel a connection request from him through her link. Opening the connection, she asked, ¡°Nicholas, are you alright? Shouldn¡¯t you still be in the wilds?¡± She could tell his psyche was stressed, but also more confident than she remembered. Apparently, his recent adventure had done him some good. Nick¡¯s calm voice stated, ¡°Vera, my love. Unfortunately, we had to abandon the army due to another assassination attempt. Nero handled it. Details later. We rerouted to Gate 14. No casualties. Wesker and Vikander are still unknowns. Nero captured an assassin, and we are on our way to drop him off at the Tower of Law. Possible scry-tracking, we¡¯ve taken steps to throw them off. Assassin says that he was hired by Lord Blackwood. So, be careful.¡± Vera sat in stunned silence, focusing on every word coming through her link. When Nick finished, she asked coldly, ¡°Needs?¡± Nick replied, ¡°Loyal guards to ensure our freedom. Give the lead to Nero, he says he¡¯s got a plan, although I doubt he¡¯s thought that far ahead. Currently he¡¯s dealing with the Gate 14 guards. You¡¯d be proud of him, he¡¯s tricking them into providing us an escort while keeping Sergeant Wesker from interfering. He told me to tell you, ¡®Look up all the relevant laws. Figure out worst case scenarios if we make a big stink. Then come up with some compromises that get us paid. Make sure to put the bomb in place, so they know we mean business. I¡¯ll contact you as soon as I can.¡¯ That¡¯s all he said. And, he was reluctant to go into detail. I don¡¯t know if he was being mysterious, or if he¡¯s just making it up as the game progresses. Do you know what he meant by ¡®the bomb¡¯?¡± Vera¡¯s smile turned cruel, and she said, ¡°I know exactly what he means. How long until you reach the gate?¡± Nick took a few seconds to think, and said, ¡°I¡¯m pretty sure we¡¯re heading toward a side gate. I don¡¯t see Gate 14, but I¡¯m sure we¡¯re in the area. Give me a minute.¡± She felt his connection dim, and she assumed he was conferring with one of the gate 14 guards. Seconds later, she felt his amusement over the link. He said, ¡°Yup. Gate 14, side gate 1. I barely steered us past Gate 15. Anyway, we should be through the gate in 45 minutes. Do you have any contacts nearby?¡± Vera¡¯s mind worked through the problem, as the screens in front of her cycled through her records. She said, ¡°You¡¯ll see 10 mercenaries waiting for you just past the gate. The lead is named Natalie Keening. They¡¯ll be wearing Precision Shipping cloaks. As requested, Nero will have command. I¡¯ll make sure the local Tower of Law has someone on-site to escort you. Code-phrase will be ¡®I simply want to win.¡¯ Let Nero know that the bomb will be ready. Anything else?¡± Nick chuckled at the memory the code-phrase brought to mind. He said, ¡°Really Vera? ¡®I simply want to win¡¯? You¡¯re terrible. Putting that aside, we don¡¯t need anything else. Hopefully, our little lord Walker knows what he¡¯s doing. And, I¡¯ll pass on the message. Be safe, my love¡± He then closed the connection. Vera smiled at the development. Quickly sending out some pings, she arranged for Ms. Keening to meet her boys. Then she went on to contact the Gate 14 Tower of Law. As she waited for her contact to accept the connection, she thought to herself, ¡®Maybe I should take the city-seat earlier than I planned? Nero sure won¡¯t want to do it.¡¯ You could be reading stolen content. Head to the original site for the genuine story. ----- As they headed toward the wall, Nero¡¯s mind was racing. Although he did his best to project the image of a confident noble, he worried that he had missed something. In the movies, there was always something that the main character overlooked that came back and bit him in the ass. Mentally, he went over his plan, trying to think what his opponents could do to screw it up. He was walking at the front of their column, and next to him was the Gate 14 guard who had seemed to be in charge. Nero looked up at the woman, seeing her stern face along with her wide shoulders. She looked like the kind of person who took their duty seriously. Nero could work with that. Looking back over his shoulder, he assessed the rest the group. Wesker was still bracketed by the two guards assigned to watch him. Cathleen was walking behind Mike, keeping an eye on him. Nick and Rose were walking calmly, while keeping their eyes peeled for trouble. The remaining guards were on the sides, making sure the crowds stayed back. That¡¯s when he realized that the streets were parting easily for them. At first he had thought it was because of the guards, but now he wasn¡¯t so sure. The people all stopped to stare at him. Nero could see them whispering to each other, and smiling as his group walked down the street. Frowning in confusion, Nero looked around. Turning his head to the guard who was walking next to him, he asked, ¡°Why is everyone so interested in us?¡± The guard¡¯s face showed a hint of pride as she replied, ¡°They recognize you. You¡¯re the little lord that kills with a smile. They just want to thank you for facing the wilds for them. We all appreciate what you do for us.¡± Nero nearly stumbled at her answer. He felt numb, and couldn¡¯t seem to piece together what she was saying. Slowly looking around, he took another look at the citizens of Dorchester who were stepping aside to let his group pass. The shock didn¡¯t let up, as he finally recognized the looks on their faces. It was gratitude and pride. ¡®Oh my God. They¡¯re fans! How in the hell did I get fans? This can¡¯t still be about that arena thing, can it?¡¯ he wondered. The guard was still looking at Nero, and seemed to be enjoying his stunned expression. She smiled and added salt to the wound. ¡°We have your poster up at our guard station. They¡¯re not going to believe that I got to help you on one of your missions.¡± At the thought of the mission, her smile vanished, and she returned to scanning the crowd for trouble. ¡°Do you have any intelligence on what we might be facing?¡± Nero¡¯s mind stuttered like a car failing to start. Out of all the possible scenarios he had played out in his head, he had never considered using his celebrity. Is that why they just believed him? Was he not a good actor? Did they just¡­ recognize him? ¡°M¡¯lord, is everything all right?¡± the guard asked with some concern. Nero turned to look up at the guard who had a worried look on her face. ¡°Um¡­ I¡¯m fine. No problem. I was just thinking through my next steps.¡± Nodding seriously, she returned to scanning the crowd. Nero tried to put a serious expression on his face, while doing his best to ignore the staring citizens watching them pass. ¡®OK. So I¡¯m a celebrity. Didn¡¯t Nick mention something about the army using my image for recruitment posters or something? And then there was that arena thing with the assassin¡­ well, the first assassin. I guess that makes sense.¡¯ thought Nero. His mind started to speed up as he came to grips with the new information. If he was a celebrity, then the city-lord had even more reason to stop him from getting to the Tower of Law. Or, if not her, then whoever planned the attempt on his life. He needed to take precautions. It was time to abuse his celebrity, and start using word-of-mouth to control the narrative. He turned to the guard and said, ¡°Guardian, what¡¯s your name?¡± She looked down at him, surprised at the question. ¡°Guard Gibson, m¡¯lord,¡± she said quickly. Nero tried to look as serious as possible, while saying, ¡°It¡¯s an honor to meet you Gibson. As I said before, my team and I were out in the wilds serving with the elites when an assassination team ambushed us.¡± Gesturing over his shoulder, he said, ¡°I don¡¯t know who was involved, but the team¡¯s sergeant led us right to the ambush spot. That might mean nothing, or it might mean that he was involved. I managed to subdue one of the assassins. It¡¯s that man in black behind us. He¡¯s agreed to provide information on who masterminded the plot. I won¡¯t tell you exactly what he said, because there are some powerful people involved.¡± He watched her surprise turn to anger, and then to fear. ¡°I don¡¯t want you or your men to be put in any more danger than necessary. Yet, for the sake of Dorchester, I have to get that man to the Tower of Law as soon as possible. Whatever happens, I must succeed.¡± As expected, the city guard who probably rarely sees action reassured him, ¡°My men and I don¡¯t fear the nobles.¡± She leaned a little closer and whispered, ¡°Who did he say is behind it?¡± Nero made a point to look around, and ensure that there wasn¡¯t anyone listening. He replied quietly, with some venom in his voice, ¡°According to him, the city-lord¡¯s consort, Lord Blackwood. Apparently, he wanted to kill me and my team, then leave our bodies to be picked apart by the horrors of the wilds. All because I refused to stand by and let the men and women of Dorchester fight in my place. If anything happens to me, make sure that assassin gets to the Tower of Law. And¡­. Do what you can to protect my team. They don¡¯t deserve to die for some noble¡¯s vanity.¡± Nero could see the righteous fury in her eyes. He made sure not to smile. ¡®By tonight, everyone she knows will have heard the story, and then passed it on.¡¯ he thought with pride. ¡°You can count on us, m¡¯lord. We won¡¯t let you down,¡± she promised. Nero gave her a firm nod, showing he believed her. ¡°We should increase our pace. Who knows what they¡¯ll try,¡± he said. She nodded, then shouted over her shoulder. ¡°Let¡¯s pick up the pace. We have somewhere to be.¡± Nero tried and failed to hide his smile as they started jogging. They must have made quite the sight barreling down the street, as the people got out of their way without issue. In fact, Nero could sometimes see groups of them starting to clap for them as the group passed by. ¡®This must be how John Cena feels when he goes out for a run,¡¯ he thought. Chapter 106 - Smile for the cameras. Located below the Henning¡¯s Tower of Fate, hidden behind wards and illusions, was the Chamber of Destiny. It was a dark room, built to discuss dark deeds. Rarely did the Masters of Destiny meet, for theirs was a secret order, within a secret order. Since its inception, the rules had stayed the same. Only 5 members, and each could only serve for 50 years at a time before they had to retreat from public life for at least 100 years. The sacrifice was to ensure that the Masters didn¡¯t use their powers for personal gain. The rules were so stringent, because they were the only ¡®official¡¯ secret order within the Council of Fate. The only member to know the identities of the masters was the High Prophet, for he was the one who oversaw the Masters of Destiny. Unfortunately, the current High Prophet, Director Weatherby, usually let the Masters of Destiny run themselves, since he was too busy managing the council and dealing with running the Hennings¡¯ Tower of Fate. Yet, he now found himself in the Chamber of Destiny, responding to an emergency summons. Sitting in the dark room, with his ceremonial hood hiding his face, he asked, ¡°What was so important that you had to interrupt my meeting with the Shimmershield trade envoy?¡± Around the small table, shrouded in shadows, were five nervous individuals. Each of them were hidden behind their hoods, but Weatherby could tell they were all anxious. He watched them looking at each other, and he could only assume they were having a private conversation about who would be the one to tell him why he was here. As they gestured at each other in silence, the seconds passed without anyone saying anything. Fed up, he growled, ¡°If someone doesn¡¯t tell me what¡¯s happened, I¡¯m going to do something drastic to each and every one of you.¡± They all slumped in their seats, but one robed individual spoke up. ¡°There¡¯s been a problem with Dorchester again.¡± Director Weatherby, the High Prophet, dropped his head into his hands, and muttered, ¡°What now?¡± Another master said, ¡°Someone tried to assassinate the anomaly again.¡± Raising his head, Weatherby asked, ¡°So? It hasn¡¯t affected the reworked fate projections has it?¡± The first master to have spoken said, ¡°It¡¯s a little more complicated than that. It turns out that someone was playing with fate¡­ and they were rather obvious about it.¡± Furious, Director Weatherby nearly shouted, ¡°Did you idiots defy the will of the council again?¡± They all held up their hands in denial, and one of them said, ¡°No! It wasn¡¯t us. We think it was the Children of Fate.¡± Another robed master interjected, ¡°I still think it was the Coalition of Destiny.¡± The director could only sit there and watch as the five Masters of Destiny began arguing about which of the secret orders within the Tower of Fate was responsible for defying the council¡¯s edict. Running out of patience, he slammed his hand on the table to get their attention and said, ¡°So why haven¡¯t you brought this to the council¡¯s attention? Why bring me down here to talk about this?¡± Abruptly, the five masters fell silent. After a few seconds, one of them said, ¡°Well, as we said, it is a complicated situation. We each found out through our contacts among the other orders that they all were currently weaving fate within Dorchester¡¯s walls. It¡¯s possible that there might be a small problem with competing agendas causing unforeseen problems. We needed to give you a head¡¯s up before tomorrow¡¯s council meeting. Several orders are threatening to release proof of their competitor¡¯s actions. We need you to rally the Council of Fate to ensure the veil of secrecy is maintained.¡± The director rubbed his temples through his hood, and asked, ¡°How many plots are currently running?¡± ¡°We¡¯ve confirmed 14 so far,¡± said one of the masters, trying to sound helpful. Staring hard at the masters, the director asked, ¡°And they are all at cross-purposes? How is that possible?¡± The robed masters exchanged hooded looks. Then one of them said, ¡°It turns out that they were all trying to bring down House Walker. Technically, they weren¡¯t going against the council¡¯s edict. By not targeting the anomaly, but his house, they didn¡¯t think they were doing anything wrong. However, they were inadvertently hindering each other. As you know, weaving fate isn¡¯t an exact science.¡± ¡°And have you identified who aided the assassination attempt?¡± asked the director. ¡°Not yet,¡± said one of the masters. Another one spoke up hesitantly, ¡°According to the matrix, the combined efforts of the plots have resulted in 3 houses loyal to the Tower of Fate being forced out of Dorchester. Not to mention that there is now a chance that House Walker will take over the city-seat.¡± Shooting to his feet, the director screamed, ¡°WHAT!?!¡± One of the masters who had been silent up until now spoke up, ¡°I queried the matrix of fate, and it is predicting the fall of the Tower if we don¡¯t find a way to alter our fate.¡± Collapsing into his chair, the director sighed in defeat. Looking at the masters, he said, ¡°So, to sum up what you¡¯re telling me. After everyone on the council agreed to leave the anomaly alone, they all used their secret orders to try and interfere with his path. As a result, the anomaly has gained money and influence, while each of the orders are blaming each other for their failures. Furthermore, there is a possibility that there is evidence of our interference while aiding in an illegal assassination attempt on a new noble under the protection of the crown. And, somehow, all of this madness concerning a minor noble in the middle of nowhere has altered our fate, which could possibly lead to the destruction of the Tower of Fate, which has existed for thousands of years. Am I missing anything?¡± After a moment, one of the masters helpfully added, ¡°The matrix assured us that even if the Tower of Fate falls, and we are all executed, the matrix itself will be fine. So, there¡¯s that.¡± The director and the other masters all stared at the robed idiot, silently hoping that something bad would happen to him. ----- When they arrived at the gate, Nero was surprised at how small it was. Instead of the towering opening which was Gate 15, or the smaller, but still huge, Gate 7, this gate was only wide enough for a two lane road. Compared to what Nero had grown used to seeing, it was positively tiny. Not wanting to sound like an idiot, he used his link to open up a private connection to Nick. ¡°Why is Gate 14 so small? Or are all the gates like this, but Gate 7 and 15 are the exceptions?¡± Nero could feel Nick several paces behind him. Although he didn¡¯t turn around to see, he could imagine Nick¡¯s smug face as the man responded, ¡°No, Nero. This isn¡¯t Gate 14¡¯s main gate. It¡¯s just one of the sides gates in the ¡®area¡¯ of Gate 14. Each area is named for the main gate. We¡¯ve covered this. You need to start paying attention.¡± Rolling his eyes, Nero didn¡¯t bother to respond, and just closed the connection. Turning to look at Guard Gibson, he said, ¡°I¡¯ll be relying on you to guide us to the Tower of Law.¡± From behind him, he heard Nick say with some annoyance, ¡°Actually Nero, you won¡¯t. Why don¡¯t you ever read your pings?¡± Looking over his shoulder, Nero could see Nick brushing past Rose and Mike to join him at the front of their little group. Glancing at Guard Gibson, Nero realized that he couldn¡¯t respond with his typical snark. Instead, he said, ¡°I¡¯ve put my link on silent so that I didn¡¯t have to avoid a connection with the arch-mage, or anyone else within Dorchester¡¯s power structure. Until the assassin has been delivered, and my duty completed, I don¡¯t want to engage in politics. Now isn¡¯t the time for checking my messages.¡± This book is hosted on another platform. Read the official version and support the author''s work. Nero was pleased to see Guard Gibson smiling, and nodding in agreement. However, he could almost feel Nick rolling his eyes when he heard the man scoff. Nero looked over his shoulder, to glare at the man. Opening another connection to Nick through the link, he said, ¡°Remember to look like a noble. Image is everything, and we can¡¯t look like we don¡¯t know what we¡¯re doing. So, stop being an asshole, and making me look bad.¡± Nick slightly grinned, but nodded his head in agreement. Changing the subject, he said, ¡°If you had bothered to read your pings, you¡¯d be aware of what we¡¯re going to find on the other side of the gate. For the past hour, I¡¯ve listened to you outline hypothetical enemy responses, and how you want me and Vera to react to them. But, you¡¯ve been ignoring what is happening RIGHT NOW.¡± Nero returned to facing forward, doing his best to appear like a typical noble, and not a scheming little bastard having a covert conversation with the man standing right next to him. While they made their way into the long tunnel which made up the gate, he asked, ¡°OK, I hear what you¡¯re saying, and you¡¯re not wrong. But, I can¡¯t pay attention to multiple things like you can. You can relay messages, and coordinate our actions better than anyone other than Vera. I needed to think things through, but we¡¯re almost through the gate, and the time for planning is over. So how about you give me the highlights. What are we walking into?¡± Nick kept his face blank, as he responded, ¡°Vera¡¯s sent some mercenary guards. They¡¯ll be wearing Precision Shipping badges and cloaks. As you probably don¡¯t know what they¡¯ll look like, I¡¯ll be sure to point them out. Also, there should be a representative from the Tower of Law waiting for us. In order to verify that they are, in fact, sent by Vera, they will use a code-phrase: ¡®I simply want to win¡¯. Vera said that you will be given command, so make sure you don¡¯t act surprised when they all follow your lead.¡± Nero glanced at Nick, and gave him a subtle nod. Nick could feel Nero¡¯s nervousness over the link¡¯s connection, and tried to project his feelings of support. As they walked the remaining distance through the tunnel, they didn¡¯t speak, but kept the connection active. Emerging back into the sun, Nero looked around the busy street looking for the two groups who should be waiting for them. Nero¡¯s group had emerged from a tunnel which had opened up to a large open receiving area, and the guards should be somewhere off to the side. Feeling a tap on his arm, he looked over to see Nick pointing at a group of armed people in the distance. They were wearing brown cloaks with a jeweled ¡®P.S.¡¯ for a clasp at their shoulder. Even though they were too far away for Nero to recognize them, Nick apparently didn¡¯t have a problem doing so. Nero smiled, and started leading his group over to meet them. The receiving area was massive, and sloped so the gate looked down over the crowd. Stalls and warehouses surrounded the area, and carts were moving about, delivering their goods. There must have been hundreds of people spread across the space, and it reminded Nero of a massive convention hall. The only thing missing was a ceiling. While making their way through the crowd, the regular people surrounding them were looking on with interest, but were nice enough not to approach them. In fact, they all made way when they saw Nero, and the universal recognition was starting to make his palms sweat. Before he could close the distance to Vera¡¯s guards, Nero¡¯s attention was grabbed by a disturbance in the other direction. In the distance, the crowd was being shoved aside by another group. Five guards in blue tabards with the Tower of Law¡¯s symbol on them were pushing people out of the way, and they weren¡¯t being nice about it. Even from a distance, he heard them shouting, ¡°Make way for the Law,¡± and ¡°Tower business, move aside.¡± Looking at their tabards, he remembered his experience being escorted to the arena. ¡®Too bad that Bill guy isn¡¯t here. These guys seem like dicks,¡¯ he thought. Nero halted his party, preferring to wait for Tower¡¯s guards to approach. He saw Guard Gibson nervously gripping her sword hilt, and he said, ¡°Wait for my signal, Gibson. They may be on our side.¡± As the Tower guards approached, he saw Vera¡¯s guards snap to attention. Nero offered them a wave, and tried to imply that they should come closer. He could see the moment they decided that Nero needed help. He tried to hold up his hands to clarify that he wasn¡¯t in any trouble, and that there was no reason to make a scene, but it was too late. Like an axe head, they forced their way through the crowd, shouting, ¡°Get out of the way!¡± Nero saw the grim faced mercenaries pushing people out of the way, with some people being shoved to the ground. The Tower guards noticed, and redoubled their efforts to push through the crowd from the other side. Nero could only grimace as the two forces disrupted the otherwise pleasant atmosphere. Nero looked over at Guard Gibson and Nick and said, ¡°Go like this,¡± He clasped his fingers together at his waist, and made a platform for someone to stand on. ¡°I need you guys to lift me up.¡± Shrugging, Nick did as he was told. Guard Gibson and Nick had no issue lifting Nero¡¯s head and shoulders above the crowd. Surprised at how high they lifted him, He looked out over the crowd to see people starting to panic. They were hearing shouting from both sides, and they didn¡¯t know where they should be going to get out of the way. Waving his hands back and forth, Nero shouted as loud as he could, ¡°Everyone calm the hell down!¡± He saw people quieting down, and turning to look at him. Making eye contact with the two groups, he shouted over the crowd, ¡°Stop charging through the crowd like assholes. I¡¯m not going anywhere.¡± Pleased to see the two groups slowing down. He addressed the crowd, ¡°Sorry for the trouble everyone. Please go about your day. It¡¯s nothing you need to worry about. Thank you for your understanding.¡± Dropping back down to ground level, he looked over at Nick with a proud smile. Nick just stared at Nero and said, ¡°You do know you just showed exactly where you were to everyone here. If someone was waiting to kill you, that would have been a perfect opportunity.¡± Frowning at Nick¡¯s analysis, Nero replied, ¡°No one is going to try anything here. But, point taken. I just didn¡¯t want to be blamed for a riot.¡± Guard Gibson said, ¡°You¡¯re right to put the needs of the people before thoughts of your safety. You are a credit to the nobility.¡± Nero offered a generous smile, and said, ¡°See Nick. Stop trying to disparage my good name. I¡¯m heroic.¡± As their connection was still open, Nick used it to say, ¡°Nero, I¡¯m not sure if I can pull off pretending that you are anything other than a pain in my ass.¡± Nero gave Nick a firm stare, full of respect, and replied over the link, ¡°You can do anything you set your mind to. I believe in you.¡± Turning away, he watched the Tower guards finally make their way through the last of the crowd and open up to reveal a stern faced woman whom they¡¯d been escorting. She bowed slightly, and said, ¡°Lord Walker, I¡¯m Lawbringer Mavis. Vera Salvatore-Verena asked me to tell you, ¡®I simply want to win¡¯. You have a prisoner for me?¡± Nero looked at the large Tower guards, their stern faces bereft of any personality. Right as he was about to respond, he heard a woman shout from his left. ¡°Lord Walker, I¡¯m Natalie Keening, in the employ of House Walker. We¡¯re here to ensure that you reach your destination unmolested,¡± she said while stomping forward to stand opposite the Tower¡¯s group. Behind her, 9 well armed brown-cloaked mercenaries emerged from the crowd. By this point, their meeting had caused a large enough disruption that the entire crowd had formed a circle to watch what was happening. Nero could practically picture the phones that would have been pulled out to record the event had this happened back home. Looking around, between his group, the tower¡¯s, and Vera¡¯s guards, they numbered over 20 people. And everyone was looking at him, waiting to hear what he had to say. He saw the crowd¡¯s curious faces, and realized that he had to handle this delicately. Coughing lightly into his hand, he cleared his throat. He stood at attention, raised his chin, and loudly projected, ¡°I am Lord Nero Walker. I have just returned from aiding the army in clearing the eastern wilds. While my companions and I were deep in the forest, we were ambushed by hunters who were part of a plot to assassinate me and hide the evidence where no one would ever find it. But, we prevailed! One of the assassins has agreed to provide testimony against the masterminds, and I have agreed to do what I can to support him in his rehabilitation. After all, when nobles demand a simple hunter to follow their plots, how can they say ¡®no¡¯. Lawbringer Maybis, this man has a story to tell you. My companions and I deliver him into the capable hands of the Tower of Law, so that the truth can come out. Thank you for ensuring his safety.¡± Nero waved a hand behind him, gesturing for Mike to step forward. The lawbringer grimaced, while looking around at the crowd. This story would likely make the daily update. She said, ¡°It¡¯s ¡®Mavis¡¯, Lord Walker.¡± Nodding easily, he said, ¡°Yeah, that¡¯s what I said. Mavis.¡± From the crowd, someone shouted, ¡°Who was behind it, m¡¯lord?¡± Murmurs started up, and shouts of ¡°Was it the city-lord?¡±, along with demands for justice grew in strength. Nero held up his hands, and the crowd quieted down. Doing his best impression of a politician, he said, ¡°We¡¯re doing everything in our power to bring the conspirators to justice. Rest assured, that House Walker will not be intimidated, and we will ensure that the laws of Dorchester will be enforced whether the criminal is noble or not. Thank you all for your support, and I want you all to know that I will forever be grateful for my opportunity to defend this great city from its enemies, both foreign and domestic. Now, please go about your day. Let¡¯s all let the Tower of Law do its job.¡± The crowd actually had several people start clapping. But soon enough, they broke up to return to whatever it was that had gotten them out of bed in the morning. While they returned to their regularly scheduled day, Nero greeted the guards Vera had sent. ¡°Thank you for coming. You¡¯re Natalie, right?¡± Nick couldn¡¯t contain himself anymore and interrupted. ¡°Nero! What the hell was that?¡± Surprised at the outburst, he looked up at Nick¡¯s frowning face, and replied, ¡°Insurance Nick. I just accused the powers that be of trying to kill me, while actually saying nothing of the sort.¡± Smiling cruelly, over the link he added, ¡°And if they want me to clarify the statement, they¡¯re going to have to make it worth my while. Also we narrowed down some of those hypothetical situations. No one tried to kill me, and the Tower of Law is now on the hook for providing an investigation.¡± Nick looked shocked, and a little uncomfortable. They both turned in surprise when they heard Mike speak up. ¡°Can I go to jail now? It¡¯s exhausting to be around you guys,¡± said Mike, while looking like he had aged 20 years over the past few days. Chapter 107 - Home from the worst vacation imaginable. Arch-mage Jennings waved his hand over the impromptu hologram, adding ¡®Marriage to Heleema¡¯ under the column labeled ¡®Offers¡¯. He looked over the board, frowning at the hodgepodge of ideas. The problem was, he wasn¡¯t sure what the little shit actually wanted. Would they be dealing with Nero, or his proxy? Why won¡¯t Nero answer his pings? ¡°Let¡¯s do our best to save that as a last resort,¡± complained the city-lord. Jennings turned to look at the full conference room tables. Their little emergency-session of the leadership council was full of nobles and aids who all had their own agendas. Sighing, he wondered who in the room actually cared if Dorchester still existed in six months. General Branson, along with aids, was invested in Dorchester¡¯s future. He and his men had been working hard to prepare for the density shift. Next to them was the city-lord and her group. Her aide, Ms. Chandler, looked haggard and resigned to whatever fate had in store for them. Meanwhile, her remaining consorts, Dustin Mosgrave and Francis Howard, were more interested in keeping House Cosgrave¡¯s losses to the minimum. They actually seemed to believe there was a way to save Deidre Cosgrave, and adamantly believed killing Derek would be enough to placate House Walker. Luckily, City-Lord Heleema Cosgrave was smart enough to know that she couldn¡¯t avoid a reckoning. As far as Jennings could tell, three of the remaining council lords didn¡¯t seem worried in the least. For them, this was nothing more than an opportunity to bleed House Cosgrave, and move up the ladder of power. After all, Lords Newling, York, and Voltan could all evacuate their houses in the event of an evacuation. They wouldn¡¯t be the ones paying with their lives, that honor would be reserved for the commoners. Next was Lord Bennings. Who, as the director of the Tower of Law, was more interested in performing her duties than saving lives. The last council lord was Lord Peyton. The man looked disgruntled, but hadn¡¯t said much. Jennings couldn¡¯t figure out what had the man so concerned. Was it the situation Dorchester was facing, or was it something else? With a firm voice, Jennings said, ¡°I think we¡¯ve done all we can to prepare. Until we hear from House Walker, this is all just theory-crafting. Our strategy will have to adapt to whoever is actually leading the negotiations. Regardless of whether it¡¯s his proxy or Lord Walker himself, hopefully we can convince them to be reasonable. But, if possible, we should try to isolate Lord Walker. He¡¯ll most likely be easier to convince.¡± Scoffing, Lord Newling muttered, ¡°Would any of us be ¡®reasonable¡¯ in his position?¡± Lord York responded, ¡°My vote remains with Lord Bennings¡¯ proposal. We should follow the law, even if it results in the abandonment of the city. We can always return and rebuild. Worst case scenario, we lose half of our assets. With the support of the crown, we can rebuild under new management. After all, House Cosgrave should suffer the consequences of their actions.¡± Bristling in her seat, City-Lord Cosgrave replied, ¡°I shall remind you once again that it is not that simple. My idiotic children do not represent my house. And we have no intention of ignoring the law. The goal of this council should be to find a way to ensure Dorchester¡¯s survival while ensuring that justice is served.¡± Arch-mage Jennings cut off any rebuttals by saying, ¡°Well said, City-Lord. Now, I¡¯ve been watching Nero and he has just dropped off the assassin with a representative from Gate 14¡¯s Tower of Law. When he manages to extricate himself from his companions, I¡¯ll go and collect him. Our goal must be to inform him of the larger picture. I¡¯m sure when he understands what¡¯s at stake, he¡¯ll be amenable to a compromise.¡± General Branson¡¯s strong voice rang out, ¡°And I say again, that is a mistake. He¡¯s going to eat you all alive if you bring him here against his will. That young man is petty, selfish, and couldn¡¯t care less about your ¡®larger picture¡¯. He thinks like a warrior, not a politician. Until proven otherwise, everyone is his enemy. For heaven¡¯s sake man, he¡¯s been ignoring your pings ever since he entered the city. That should tell you everything you need to know. You should be doing everything you can to include Mrs. Salvatore-Verena in the negotiations. She is the only one who could restrain him. If you don¡¯t, you¡¯ll end up having to give him the city. He¡¯ll demand it just to spite you. And, even worse, he¡¯ll make it sound like he¡¯s only accepting the city because he¡¯s ¡®worried about the common man¡¯.¡± Lord York¡¯s mocking voice answered the general. ¡°Your input is appreciated. However, considering that it was your army which allowed this to happen, perhaps we shouldn¡¯t rely on your ¡®tactical¡¯ analysis.¡± General Branson glared at Lord York, but didn¡¯t otherwise react to the provocation. Over the next hour, they argued. No one¡¯s opinions changed, and there were no decisions were made. Jennings¡¯ efforts were in vain, and the conversation went around and around in circles, accomplishing nothing. But eventually, the situation outside the council chambers evolved, and Jennings anticipated a possible opportunity presenting itself. While he hadn¡¯t had a chance to catch Nero alone, as the young man had been surrounded by mercenaries, Jennings was pleased to see Nero finally arriving at the newly renamed Verena estate. Now, all he had to do was wait, and soon he should be able to grab Nero without anyone knowing. While the room was filled with the sounds of competing agendas, he smiled in anticipation. ¡®The boy likes me. I¡¯m sure the general is just being overly pessimistic,¡¯ he thought. ----- After dropping Mike off at the tower of law, Nero and his companions were brought into a ¡®testimonial¡¯ room. Apparently, in order to make an official statement, citizens had to provide the relevant memory engram. Nero watched as Nick walked up to a large stone pillar with a 2ft wide crystal embedded in the middle. He could see runes etched along thin strips of metal crisscrossing over the slightly glowing crystal. It was officially the most ¡®fantasy¡¯ thing he had seen since arriving in this world. Glancing at his group, they all seemed perfectly fine with the idea of someone recording their memories. Not wanting to make a fuss, he kept his reservations to himself. Nick stood in front of the pillar, and Nero watched as the large crystal lit up a light blue. After a few seconds, Nick turned around and rejoined the group. Cathleen stepped up next, and the scene repeated itself. Leaning over, Nero quietly asked Nick, ¡°OK. So how does this work? How do I do this?¡± Nick looked down at Nero with a look of confusion. ¡°It¡¯s just like the link. Just connect with the inducer, then provide the memory. Don¡¯t overthink it.¡± Shooting Nick a look of annoyance, he walked up to the pillar, which was apparently called an ¡®inducer¡¯, and tried to reach out to it. Nero felt the connection establish, and he could feel his focus improve drastically. It was an odd feeling, like he was looking into a mental mirror. He could play whatever memory he wanted on the mirror, while keeping his perception of current events totally separate. While it should have been extremely disorienting, it just¡­ wasn¡¯t. He had no trouble recalling the assassination attempt. He easily isolated the memory, and watched the events play out from his perspective. It was like his sensory inputs were being isolated and displayed, while his perspective and thoughts were stripped from the memory. But as interesting as he found the experience, he decided it was better not to dawdle. Once he had the memory chosen, he tried to figure out where the ¡®record¡¯ button was. However, the moment the thought appeared, he felt the memory being copied. It was like a duplicate was appearing right next to his mental projection. It only took a few seconds. He couldn¡¯t believe how easy it was. After completing his task, Nero dropped the connection, and then took a step back. He stared at the inducer with a complicated look on his face, as if he weren¡¯t entirely sure how to feel about what just happened. Nick¡¯s voice broke his concentration. ¡°You figure it out?¡± he asked. Suppressing the urge to say something rude, Nero returned to the group and replied, ¡°Yeah. No problem.¡± Rose went next. As she walked up to the inducer, she looked over at the technician standing off to the side. ¡°Just so you know, I¡¯m going to include everything that happened. But be aware, I didn¡¯t see much,¡± she said. The technician didn¡¯t seem to care. After briefly looking up from their workstation, they offered Rose a polite nod of acknowledgment, then returned to the holograms they were staring at. She dropped off her memory then returned to the group. Everyone turned to sergeant Wesker, who was standing there with his arms crossed and a frown on his face. Seconds passed, as he blatantly ignored everyone around him. This book''s true home is on another platform. Check it out there for the real experience. Lawbringer Mavis, who had escorted them here, took a step closer to him. With a frown on her face, she said, ¡°Sergeant, please provide your testimony.¡± Turning to look at the much smaller lawbrigner, he glared down at her and replied, ¡°Until my link is returned, and I¡¯m able to make contact with army command, I refuse to participate.¡± After saying his piece, he returned to staring blankly at the walls, while avoiding eye contact with anyone. Nero shared a glance with the lawbringer, and she asked with some accusation in her tone, ¡°You took his link?¡± Shrugging, he replied, ¡°I didn¡¯t want anyone knowing we were here. The last thing we needed was an information leak. Now that we¡¯re safe in the Tower of Law, I have no problem returning everyone¡¯s links. Here is Mike¡¯s link and what he had on him.¡± Between Nero and Nick, they returned everyone¡¯s links, and then turned Mike¡¯s effects over to Lawbringer Mavis. The only one who seemed to think the moment was in any way important was Sergeant Wesker, who immediately used his link to report in. Nero smiled at the sergeant¡¯s actions, but frowned at the look of hesitation on Rose¡¯s face. ¡®She must not know what to do in this situation,¡¯ he thought. Taking a few steps closer, he whispered to her, ¡°Hey, don¡¯t worry about it. You should go with the sergeant. The next steps aren¡¯t going to have anything to do with you. Feel free to report in, and tell them whatever you want. I¡¯m sure I¡¯ll be seeing the general soon anyway.¡± Seeing her thinking through what to say, he didn¡¯t give her a chance to respond. Turning away quickly, he walked back over to the lawbringer and asked, ¡°Did you need anything else from us, or are we free to go?¡± Raising an eyebrow in surprise, she asked, ¡°Don¡¯t you want to watch the interrogation? As a noble, you are entitled to be present during the questioning.¡± Nero snorted, and replied, ¡°I already know what he¡¯s going to say. I included our interrogation of him with my memory. And keep in mind that any threats I made at the time were purely an intimidation tactic, as I had no intention of ever following through with them. Now if you¡¯ll excuse me, I have to meet with my proxy, and then find a shower.¡± Lawbringer Mavis nodded, and said, ¡°Very well, Lord Walker. I¡¯ll be sure to keep your proxy apprised of any developments. Rest assured, the Tower of Law will handle this.¡± Smiling up at the serious woman, he reached out to pat her arm in appreciation. ¡°Thank you for your help. I know that this case is in good hands. Let me know if you need anything else.¡± He then turned to share a look with Nick, and gestured with his head toward the door. In no time at all, they exited the Gate 14 Tower of Law, and reunited with Natalie and her guards who were waiting for them outside. After having left Rose, Wesker, and Mike inside the tower, Nero, Cathleen and Nick were the only remaining companions. They grouped up, while Natalie¡¯s guards took up positions surrounding them. Nero crossed his arms, and said, ¡°All right. So we¡¯ve achieved our primary objective. Mike¡¯s going to point the finger, and all hell is going to break loose. We¡¯re going to be hearing from the people in charge soon enough. Let¡¯s meet up with Vera, and plan our next steps. Remember, if something unexpected happens, don¡¯t do anything until checking in with Vera. We did our part, now we let Vera do hers.¡± Receiving nods of agreement from Nick and Cathleen, he turned to Natalie and said, ¡°Can you take us to Vera? And hopefully get us some real food and a shower?¡± Natalie gave him a firm nod, then turned to her team and shouted, ¡°Protection detail! Let¡¯s move out.¡± Their group marched through the streets, and Nero didn¡¯t even bother to ask where they were going. After a carriage ride and some more walking, Nero and his companions were finally led into a private teleportation platform located in the transport hub. Annoyed at how large the city was, Nero just wanted to find a couch to collapse on. But when Nero was about to step up onto the platform, he felt Nick tug on his sleeve. Turning around, Nero asked, ¡°What?¡± Nick gave Nero a blank look and asked, ¡°Aren¡¯t you forgetting something?¡± Confused, Nero asked, ¡°What the hell are you talking about? I just stand on the platform right?¡± Rolling his eyes, Nick pointed at Nero¡¯s satchel and said, ¡°You can¡¯t teleport with essence crystals. They¡¯ll just dissipate into the ether during transport. Hand them over to Natalie. She¡¯ll deliver them to one of Vera¡¯s storage facilities for processing. Do you have any idea how much money you¡¯re carrying around?¡± Nero lifted up his satchel, staring at it. The bag had been his constant companion for the past few days. It felt weird to let it go. Taking it off his shoulder, he handed it to Natalie. Staring her down, he said, ¡°I¡¯ll expect this back.¡± Natalie took the bag, while nodding seriously and saying, ¡°I¡¯ll guard it with my life, m¡¯lord.¡± Stunned at her overly serious response, he mumbled, ¡°Um¡­ good. Thanks.¡± Nick patted Nero on the back, consoling him for his loss while guiding him up onto the platform. Soon enough, they were transported to Nick and Vera¡¯s estate. Nero looked around at the familiar d¨¦cor, and sighed in relief. They were finally somewhere safe. Not letting them enjoy the moment, Nick immediately walked off, gesturing for Cathleen and Nero to follow him through the halls. Over his shoulder, Nick said, ¡°Vera says she¡¯s ready when we are, but I told her we¡¯re going to shower first, and then we can talk while we eat. The kitchen is preparing a feast as we speak.¡± Nick seemed excited to be having a real meal again. Nero smiled at the idea of eating a good meal, but couldn¡¯t suppress a feeling of nervousness. He kept looking around, expecting something to jump out at them. Cathleen¡¯s quiet voice spoke up, ¡°Calm down little lord. We¡¯re back behind the walls. There is no danger here. It¡¯s only nobles, weaklings, and politics that we have to look forward to for the immediate future.¡± Nero looked over at her, and saw how unhappy she was about being back. ¡®She really hates it here, huh?¡¯ he thought. Trying to lighten the mood, he said, ¡°Well, I don¡¯t know about you, but I¡¯m looking forward to taking a dump in a place where it¡¯s not necessary for someone to watch me. After what we just went through, I feel as though I know way too much about both of you. And, if it¡¯s all the same to you, I¡¯d prefer us to spend some time recalling how to properly distance ourselves.¡± Nick chuckled and said, ¡°I¡¯m looking forward to seeing my wife. It¡¯s only been a few weeks, but I¡¯d forgotten what it was like to not have her around. I didn¡¯t realize how much I¡¯d miss her.¡± Cathleen said, ¡°Sure, that all sounds great. But when are we returning to our training?¡± Nero and Nick glared at her. Yet, Nero was the first to speak. ¡°I¡¯m not sure if we¡¯re rejoining the elites. We¡¯ll have to see what happens.¡± Cathleen¡¯s hard stare froze Nero¡¯s blood. She said, ¡°You¡¯re going to return to training. Whether it¡¯s with the elites, or on our own, you¡¯re not nearly ready to face the world on your own.¡± Nick chimed in, ¡°He did save us all. I wouldn¡¯t say he is defenseless.¡± Heading off an argument, Nero said, ¡°Cathleen¡¯s right. I have a lot more to learn. I¡¯m just not sure how things are going to play out. Let¡¯s hold off on any long term plans and just focus on what¡¯s happening right now. First we talk to Vera, then we make a plan. I¡¯m sure she has it all figured out.¡± Receiving nods, Nero let the matter drop. Nick led them to individual guest rooms, and then went off to go find his wife. As Nero closed the door to his room, his eyes scanned every corner. Realizing what he was doing, he closed his eyes and took a few deep breaths. He wasn¡¯t in the wilds anymore. He needed to lighten up. The battles coming up would be with words, and he needed to let his combat instincts adapt to the current environment. After letting the tension in his shoulders release, he headed off toward the bathroom. He smiled at the prospect of finally having some privacy. Whether it made sense or not, the worst part about being in the wilds was the fact that he was NEVER alone. As the danger was always there, so were his team-mates. The fact that he knew what Nick¡¯s face looked like when he did his business was something he would have to deal with on an emotional level at some point. Walking into the bathroom, he saw the shower and toilet. For Nero, they were almost glowing and he felt like he heard orchestral music heralding their appearance. With a wide smile, he saw the fluffy towels hanging off the hooks, and the soap dispensers filled with scents that reminded him of all the beauty he had recently been denied. The smell of cleanliness made his heart rate rise with anticipation. Taking a step forward, the world flashed with gold, and he felt himself hurtle through space. Moments later, he blinked at the change of scenery. Looking around, he saw conference room tables arranged in around a central open area. Well dressed people stared at him with expressions ranging from glares to smiles. From behind him on his right, he heard a voice, ¡°Nero my boy, I¡¯m sorry to bring you here like this, but we need to talk.¡± Nero spun around to see Arch-mage Jennings standing their with a proud smile on his face, holding out a mug of steaming coffee for Nero to take. Instead of responding, Nero looked around the room. It was a massive conference hall. Wood walls were filled with fancy carvings and crown moldings. There were hanging chandeliers with glowing lights. Beautiful artwork along with tapestries adorned the walls. And the floor had the seal of Dorchester in the middle of the room. It took him only a minute to realize that he had been transported to the keep. Furious at the realization, he grabbed the cup of coffee, ripping it out of Jennings hand. Glaring at Jennings, he said, ¡°I was just about to have my first private shit in a week, and you had to pull this crap! Just wait until Vera hears about this. You are so screwed.¡± Jennings smile withered, and he replied hastily, ¡°Now there¡¯s no reason to be-¡± ¡°Save it for your trial, old man,¡± Nero said bitingly. Looking around, he said, ¡°Now someone better show me to a bathroom, or I¡¯m taking a dump right here. I¡¯ve been in the woods for the past week, so any shyness I might have had has been beaten out of me.¡± As the stunned looks of the nobles acted like a balm on his soul, he added, ¡°And I also want pancakes¡­.with butter¡­ and syrup.¡± Nero cast the purification spell he always used on the coffee Jennings had just handed him, then marched off to see about finding a bathroom. As the door to the room slammed shut behind Nero, Jennings turned to look at the gathered nobles. Everyone was still sitting in stunned shock, unused to being talked to like that. Lamely, he said, ¡°Well, that went about as well as we could have expected. Let¡¯s make sure the pancakes are here by the time he gets back. We want him in a good mood.¡± Chapter 108 - Civilization means you can think on the toilet. In the Hennings central command center, the king was meeting with his council of war. Consisting of 14 arch-generals, their purpose was to coordinate their response to the various theaters of conflict across the kingdom. Each general worked closely with the nobles who controlled the regions within their assigned area. But while the individual armies were paid for, and supported by, their local support systems, the final say of their deployment was always with the king. Since the founding of Oglivarch, the position of High General was always the king. Typically, he didn¡¯t really have to do much. Mostly, he just listened to what was happening, and let the various cities within his kingdom go about their business. In fact, he normally didn¡¯t even bother to attend these meetings. One of his sons, Prince Benjamin, usually represents the crown¡¯s interests. But, today he felt like he needed a break from his wife and their consorts. As he leaned back in his chair, listening to the general from the Bacnaravine province go over their response to the latest centaur incursion, he couldn¡¯t help but feel bad for avoiding the fallout. This morning, he had found out that the Tower of Fate had apparently insulted the trade envoy from Clan Shimmershield, and Lydia, his consort, was stuck dealing with the ornery dwarf. He expected that she was currently smoothing things over, while ensuring that the upcoming visit from the clan heads would proceed without issue. But that wasn¡¯t what worried him. It was his wife. Marrisa had known him from almost his entire life, and she was more than capable of following the trail of evidence in order to find out what caused the debacle. Considering how close she and Lydia were, it was only a matter of time until Lydia complained, and then Marrisa¡¯s personality would force her to investigate. He did NOT want to be around for when she found out that the entire thing was his fault. The king came out of his thoughts, and answered the question he had been only half listening to. ¡°You¡¯re quite right to be concerned, Arch-General Inoch. But, the standard response should be more than enough to reinforce the region. I trust you and the city-lords to handle it. Consider the crown informed, and you may proceed with my full support.¡± The arch-general bowed slightly, then returned to her seat. As another arch-general stood up to take her place, the doors to their meeting hall were slammed open, and in strode Queen Marrisa Newling Oglivarch. The very essence hummed with her presence, and the arch-generals along with their aides shrank into their seats, as their station demanded that they be aware of her alternate identity. Everyone in the room knew that she was the current Champion Charity, and a Populator wasn¡¯t someone they wanted to cross. Especially not one of her caliber. As far as they were concerned, if she wanted to storm in and yell at her husband, it was perfectly fine with them. King Oliver sighed at the cowardly arch-generals. He had hoped the prospect of interrupting a meeting of the kingdom¡¯s elites would prevent her from making a scene, but he should have known it was a long shot. Before he could say anything, she growled, ¡°This meeting is adjourned. Everyone, please wait outside. You¡¯ll be able to resume shortly.¡± There wasn¡¯t even a moment of hesitation, as every arch-general in the room picked up their things and hurried toward the exit. With a small smile of amusement, the king watched the room empty in a surprisingly short amount of time. When the queen saw the doors shut, she spun to face the sitting king and put her hands on her hips. Nearly snarling, she said, ¡°What idiotic plot of yours required Lydia to get yelled at by that infuriating dwarf?!?¡± The king asked lightly, ¡°Whatever do you mean, dear?¡± Shaking a finger at him, she said, ¡°I don¡¯t know how exactly, but this whole thing stinks of one of your convoluted games. I traced an emergency signal received by the director of the tower of fate which caused him to run out a meeting with the trade envoy. He was supposed to be demonstrating our predictive capabilities. Do you have any idea how it looks to have our foremost fateweaver surprised during a meeting demonstrating our preparedness?¡± Chuckling, the king said, ¡°Yes. I suppose that does look bad. But how is that my fault?¡± Smiling cruelly, she said, ¡°It took some digging, and some pointed questions, but I tracked down the issue that caused the director to be called away. Imagine my surprise when I found out that it was about Dorchester again. And then I remembered you having one of those cases of dwarven wine set aside to be shipped to Dorchester. And do you remember what you said when Helen asked you why? You said that Arch-mage Jennings needed to be distracted, and that she should just write it off as a household expense. But you didn¡¯t send it to Jennings, did you?¡± The king watched as she started pacing back and forth, outlining her investigative journey. Putting her hands behind her back as she walked, she continued, ¡°I just checked with Walter, and you DIDN¡¯T have it sent to Jennings. He told me that you, in fact, had it sent to someone named Lord Bevin, along with a note saying it was a goodwill gesture from the Tower of Fate. I don¡¯t know exactly how those two things are connected, but I don¡¯t need to.¡± She paused, pointed accusingly at the king, and said, ¡°Then about a week ago, you maneuvered Lord Newbanks and his family into having dinner with us. At the time, I thought you were just interested in their daughter romantically, but do you remember what you spent the meal talking about? Dorchester again. You told the story about their pathetic excuse for a noble war, and about that new noble the mages find so fascinating. But you weren¡¯t trying to get her work at the Tower of Magic, were you? You were highlighting the fact that Dorchester was where the current director of the mage council WANTED to spend his time.¡± Amused, the king asked, ¡°So? Don¡¯t you find that interesting?¡± Sniffing harshly, she returned to her pacing, while making it clear that she was ignoring him. ¡°For the past month, that backwater has been popping up in conversations with alarming regularity. First Lord Cranston¡¯s failed plot, then an exploit worthy of being classified as category 5, and that¡¯s not even mentioning the density shift which was inadvertently caused by MY presence during the noble war, which was at YOUR request. And were you aware that Lord Newbanks¡¯ daughter recently fought an arena battle in order to take over the position as Dorchester¡¯s court mage? Don¡¯t YOU find that interesting? Perhaps you¡¯ve been in contact with her?¡± Shrugging easily, he replied, ¡°I may have congratulated her on her new position. And I might have asked her to see to some matters while she was there. But these are all coincidences.¡± Holding her finger in the air, she shouted, ¡°This is another one of your hells be-damned plots, isn¡¯t it!?! And now Lydia is being dragged into it. What do you have to say for yourself?¡± King Oliver looked lovingly at his wife. The woman was amazing. Several offhanded comments overheard weeks ago, along with a few hours of investigation, and she had figured out who it all led back to. She could have blamed Jennings, or the new Lord Walker, or even the vagaries of chance, but she knew it was him. Quietly, he asked, ¡°Has anyone else put it together?¡± Sniffing with derision, she raised her chin with pride and replied, ¡°Not likely. I kept my inquiries vague. And unless someone asks the matrix directly, I doubt it would even notice what you were up to. But seriously Oliver, what¡¯s the point? And did you really have to involve the dwarves?¡± Shrugging, he said, ¡°They were too worried about our strength. This gave them something to feel superior about, while putting in motion some plans I had for the reorganization of the Tower of Fate. I just guided events, I didn¡¯t cause them. Just make sure you don¡¯t tell anyone, I would prefer for Arch-mage Jennings to be blaming the Tower of Fate. As for Lydia, I promise I¡¯ll make it up to her.¡± Narrowing her eyes, she said, ¡°Helen has been planning a little excursion for us. How about you join your consorts on a trip into the ¡®Howling Chasm¡¯? It¡¯s been a while since we¡¯ve fought together.¡± Although he had numerous other things he¡¯d rather be doing, he knew when he was beaten. Sighing with a small smile, he nodded. ¡°Of course dear. Just clear it with Walter, then inform Benjamin. As long as we are back before Eighth-month, that will be fine. We need to be here to receive the Shimmershield delegation. And don¡¯t worry, I¡¯ll personally go deal with the trade envoy. How does that sound?¡± Marrisa¡¯s smile blossomed like a flower, and she replied, ¡°Fine. But don¡¯t think we¡¯ll let you off without you explaining what this is all about. Now go back to running your kingdom. But, be sure to be back before 19:00, we¡¯re having dinner with the Lancasters.¡± Stolen content warning: this tale belongs on Royal Road. Report any occurrences elsewhere. With that, she turned lightly, then glided out the doors. The king sat in his chair, watching the arch-generals returning to their seats. After everyone was ready, he said, ¡°I¡¯d apologize for the interruption, but I don¡¯t want to. Now, where were we?¡± ----- The doors closed behind Nero, and he shook himself like a dog after being caught in the rain. His heart-rate was elevated, and he couldn¡¯t stop his hands from shaking. He couldn¡¯t believe what had just happened. One minute, he was heading into the bathroom, the next, he was forcibly kidnapped by an arch-mage and presented to Dorchester¡¯s nobility. All he could do was act on instinct. He lashed out with his words, threatened dire retribution from the most capable person he knew, then ran for the door. ¡®Did I really ask for pancakes?¡¯ he asked himself with some disbelief. Seeing a blue robed servant walking down the hall, he held up a hand in greeting, then walked up to him. He quietly asked the man, ¡°Where is the closest restroom?¡± Surprised at the question, the man responded, ¡°Just down the hall, on the left, m¡¯lord.¡± Nodding with thanks, Nero handed the man the coffee Jennings had given him, then walked off hurriedly. As he headed down the hall, he used the link in his pocket to try and open a connection to Vera. Moments later, he felt her presence appear in a corner of his mind, and he heard her ask, ¡°Are you almost done? Nick has been regaling me with tales of your adventures. But we really need to sp-¡± Nero interrupted her. ¡°Vera, hold that thought. I was just kidnapped!¡± Vera¡¯s psyche turned cold, and Nero shivered. ¡°Who? Where? And Status?¡± Confused, Nero asked, ¡°You mean ¡®who¡¯ kidnapped me? Why are you talking like that?¡± A frustrated Vera responded, ¡°It¡¯s to save time. But it defeats the purpose if you have to ask what I¡¯m talking about. Just tell me what happened.¡± Nero found the bathroom, and looked up and down the hall, checking to see if anyone was watching him. He realized that there wasn¡¯t any reason to care if someone watched him go in, but he was feeling exposed, and it seemed like the right thing to do. He frowned at the stupidity of his actions, then went in, letting the door swing shut behind him. After taking a moment to appreciate the large bathroom, which was obviously intended to serve the entire floor, Nero locked the door. He then went about his business. Vera interrupted his thoughts by saying, ¡°Nero! Are you alright?¡± ¡°Huh? Oh, right. Listen, you remember that arch-mage? He teleported me from your bathroom and plopped me down in front of a bunch of nobles. I don¡¯t remember exactly what I said, but I kind of freaked out and ran out of the room. I¡¯m pretty sure I threatened them with your wrath, and then I demanded a bathroom and pancakes,¡± he said. Confused, she asked, ¡°What the hell are you talking about? You¡¯re not making any sense.¡± Nero took a breath, and started over. ¡°I was at your place. Nick dropped me off at a guest room so I could clean up before we regrouped. When I was about to do my business, Arch-mage Jennings teleported me somewhere. I appeared in a huge conference room. I think I¡¯m at the keep. When -¡± Vera interrupted him. ¡°Try and access the local hub, it should at least tell you where you are.¡± Nero blinked a few times, surprised at the suggestion. After doing what she asked, he said, ¡°OK. I¡¯m at the central keep. And I have a lot of missed pings, along with a ton of messages waiting for me to read. But that doesn¡¯t matter right now. Getting back to what I was saying, Jennings teleported me to a big conference room. I didn¡¯t recognize everyone, but I saw the general guy, that lawyer lady, the city-lord, and some other people in fancy robes along with a bunch of extras. I¡¯m thinking that it was the ruling council, or whatever it¡¯s called.¡± Vera was furious, but she asked calmly, ¡°Then what happened?¡± Nero chuckled, and said, ¡°Well, then I freaked out. I said something about what you¡¯re going to do to them when you found out, then I complained about them interrupting my bathroom activities. I stormed toward the door, then went looking for a bathroom. And¡­. I kind of demanded pancakes. I¡¯m not really sure where that last thing came from. But now I¡¯m hiding in the bathroom, sitting on a toilet, and I called you as soon as I could.¡± Coldly Vera asked, ¡°Are you using the toilet while you¡¯re talking to me?¡± A few seconds of silence passed, then Nero said, ¡°No. Of course not. That would be rude?¡± Vera responded angrily, ¡°I don¡¯t care about that! Just don¡¯t tell people when you are. Now, how does this alter your plan?¡± Ignoring the awkwardness, he said, ¡°The extent of my plan was to drop the assassin off at the Tower of Law, and then threaten to make a public fuss. Everything else I ¡®planned¡¯ to leave up to you. I mean, come on! I¡¯ve only been here a few weeks, I don¡¯t even know what to ask for. How soon can you get here?¡± Vera replied, ¡°I¡¯ve been coordinating our response while we were talking. Nick, Cathleen, and I are already on our way. We should be there in twenty minutes, we¡¯re teleporting directly to the keep¡¯s astra-platform. Nick is still technically your advisor, so he can walk us right to you, and they have no right to keep your proxy away from you. Don¡¯t worry, we¡¯ll be there soon.¡± Nero¡¯s shoulders released some tension, and he said both out loud and over the link, ¡°Thanks Vera. Just between you and me, I¡¯m not really sure what I¡¯m doing. Don¡¯t tell Nick.¡± Realizing what he just said out loud, he looked up at the ceiling and panicked a little. ¡°Crap. You think that bastard is watching me right now? Do you think he heard that?¡± Offended at the thought, he continued, ¡°What kind of a sicko watches someone in the bathroom? I ought to -¡± ¡°Nero! Calm down. Everything is going to be fine. I¡¯ll be there soon. But you can¡¯t wait in the bathroom the whole time. Get back in there and stall. Don¡¯t agree to anything, but feel free to hint that you are pissed and willing to formally request royal intercession. Lord Bennings will realize what that means,¡± she said soothingly. Nero nodded. ¡°Royal intercession. Got it,¡± he said. Continuing, she said, ¡°I looked into what might happen, and it¡¯s not good for them. If Lord Blackwood¡¯s involvement is confirmed by the Tower of Law, then as a consort to the city-lord, House Cosgrave is implicated. They could all be executed, and a war for the city-seat would immediately follow. Even worse, the army would have to retreat behind the walls and take over the city. The entire government would essentially be shut down. With what¡¯s going on in the wilds right now, that would be a disaster. Unless the nobles want to abandon the city, they¡¯ll be eager to bargain. This can all go away if you agree to arbitration.¡± Nero asked, ¡°Doesn¡¯t that just mean someone will mediate the dispute? How would that affect the charges?¡± Vera replied, ¡°It means that you would agree to NOT formally file charges. Even though, technically, you aren¡¯t required to. Even if there is a record of an investigation, the file would be put aside. It¡¯s common practice because if all parties agree to arbitration then the law allows for some flexibility with its application. They would offer some concessions, and you would agree to forget about the whole plot.¡± Nero took a few seconds to think through what she had just said. Shaking his head in confusion, he replied, ¡°I don¡¯t understand. But, I don¡¯t really need to. I¡¯ll let you handle it. By the way, should I be paying you or something?¡± Amused, she said, ¡°You are paying me. As the proxy to the head of House Walker, I get 10% of your personal income. I could have negotiated for more, but that is the standard, and I didn¡¯t feel it was necessary to quibble.¡± Nero had finished his business, and was currently washing his hands in the sink. Staring at his dirty clothes, he cast a quick cleaning spell. It wouldn¡¯t make him spring-time fresh, but it would at least make him presentable. Hearing Vera¡¯s answer, he said, ¡°Oh, good. Considering that you are currently running everything, I appreciate you giving me a good deal. Well, I better get in there. I¡¯ll make sure to stall, so take your time. I got this.¡± Vera said, ¡°Nero, I appreciate your trust. You¡¯ve already made me a great deal of money, and don¡¯t feel like you owe me anything. Like you said, we¡¯re partners. You just keep causing issues, and I¡¯ll keep making sure we profit off them.¡± Snorting in amusement, Nero replied, ¡°No problem. I¡¯m good at that. I¡¯ll see you soon.¡± Closing the connection, he stared at his face in the mirror. He looked tired, and he needed a haircut. Ruffling his hand through his hair, he huffed at his reflection. After squaring his shoulders, he turned and headed back toward the conference room. Chapter 109 - Verbal fencing and subjective truth. Arch-mage Jennings watched the pancakes being set out. Although he was surprised at how quickly they had arrived, he knew he shouldn¡¯t have been. The keep¡¯s kitchens had the finest cooks in Dorchester, and even a backwater had people skilled enough to make pancakes. Standing next to the city-lord¡¯s table, he listened to her discussion with the general. As they weren¡¯t sitting next to each other, they weren¡¯t exactly being quiet. ¡°Admitting culpability is the worst thing you could do. Any perceived weakness will just be a target for him to attack. We need to frame the issue in a way where the perpetrators have been punished, and we were responsible for catching them,¡± he said with fervor. Tapping a finger on the table in thought, she replied, ¡°But we haven¡¯t punished them. We¡¯ve detained several persons of interest, but we can¡¯t formally charge them without involving the Tower of Law. They¡¯ve already opened an investigation into the event, and we can only hold off on that for so long. As soon as they complete their preliminary investigation, they¡¯ll start arresting people. Once that happens, I¡¯m implicated as the head of House Cosgrave. If Lord Walker files official charges, we are ALL screwed.¡± Cheerfully, Lord York interjected, ¡°House York will be fine. This entire affair will only affect House Cosgrave, so I¡¯m perfectly happy letting the Tower of Law do its job.¡± Lords Voltan and Newling both chimed in at the same time with, ¡°Me too.¡± They shared a pleased look with each other, and exchanged nods of camaraderie. General Branson angrily shouted, ¡°Don¡¯t you morons realize what¡¯s at stake here? If we have to have a war for the city-seat right now, I¡¯ll have to pull my army out of the wilds. Not to mention that we¡¯ll have to stop the efforts to reopen the mountain. With no one clearing the spawn points, things outside the walls are going to get bad, faster than any of you seem to realize.¡± Arch-mage Jennings folded his arms and adopted an air of power. He rarely used his ¡®arch-mage voice¡¯ but this was getting out of hand. Solemnly he said, ¡°If you cannot convince the young lord to abandon his thoughts of revenge, then the wilds shall grow unimpeded. Within weeks, Dorchester will be encircled by nature at its worst. You don¡¯t have the essence crystals to evacuate the city through the teleporters, and you¡¯ll have to organize a mass caravan. The war for the city-seat will be pointless, as there won¡¯t be a city-seat.¡± The room was silenced by his menacing tone. Glaring at the nobles, he continued, ¡°If you treat this as a negotiation, so will he. If you think only of what you can gain, he will take everything he can. The general is right to say that this will come down to how you frame the question. Are you willing to offer fair concessions, or are you going to try and dither. This is a delicate situation that doesn¡¯t just affect the city-lord. It affects all of you.¡± Silence pervaded the room, as everyone considered his words. Jennings looked over at the door, he sensed that Nero was currently on his way back. As he waited to see Nero come in, he heard the city-lord say, ¡°This will be our most important negotiation in recent memory, so let¡¯s all try to live up to our titles.¡± Cringing at the timing, he saw the doors fly open and in walked Nero like he owned the place. The little shit called out, ¡°OK, two things. Where is my seat, and where are my pancakes?¡± The heavy atmosphere that Jennings had so carefully cultivated evaporated, and the silence changed its tenor from severity to confusion. ----- Plopping into a chair at an empty table Nero assumed had been set aside for him. He looked over the platters of pancakes and assorted syrups and nodded in anticipation of the first good meal he¡¯d had in days. While piling pancakes on his plate, he looked around the room at the judgmental faces. Annoyed, he said, ¡°Let¡¯s see how hungry you are when you¡¯ve spent the last week in the wilds facing monsters, beasts, and assassins. But go ahead, judge away. I don¡¯t even know who most of you are.¡± Arch-mage Jennings was the only one standing, and walked into the center of the room to stand in front of Nero¡¯s table. He said, ¡°Nero, my boy, this is the council of leadership for Dorchester. As this matter is of the utmost importance, it merits the attention of the highest authority.¡± He grandly held up his arm, gesturing to each of them in turn. ¡°This is Lord York, of House York. Lord Newling, of House Newling. Lord Voltan, of House Voltan. Lord Peyton, of House Peyton. General Branson, Commander of the Forces of Dorchester. Lord Bennings, of House Bennings. And you know City-Lord Cosgrave, of House Cosgrave.¡± Nero poured himself some coffee from a pitcher. While he appreciated Jennings¡¯ performance, he thought the man looked way too young to pull off the whole ¡®aged wizard¡¯ thing. Narrowing his eyes, he replied, ¡°So, other than that guy,¡± he gestured at the general, ¡°they¡¯re all the heads of their houses. Why didn¡¯t you just say that?¡± One of the general¡¯s aides bit back a chuckle, and Nero glanced over at the man with a smile. It was nice to have his humor appreciated for once. As he dug into his food, Nero wondered if the room¡¯s essence was so still due to how many high level people were in the room. It felt like the entire room was a sea of calm. While everyone watched him tear into his pancakes, he debated whether or not an ability was to blame. He glanced at Jennings, but decided it was better to let the silence linger. Arch-mage Jennings waited for Nero to start the conversation, but the young man seemed perfectly content to sit in silence and eat his pancakes. Lord Cosgrave started to speak up, but was interrupted by General Branson. He glared at the city-lord, but spoke to Nero from across the room, ¡°We brought you here to discuss the situation you dealt with in the wilds.¡± He kept his stare locked on the city-lord, threatening her to stay quiet. Nero repressed a smile. So, they¡¯re trying to stop her from saying anything. The scene reminded him of a lawyer warning their client to shut up, while only using their eyes. Doing his best to seem at ease, Nero asked the room, ¡°Is it legal to teleport someone against their will while they were using the bathroom at a private residence? I¡¯m no lawbringer, but that seems shady.¡± Lord Bennings joined the conversation. ¡°It is illegal to forcibly teleport anyone without their consent. Even in cases where the person in question is suspected of a crime, they must be physically collected. If you¡¯d like to file charges, I¡¯d be -¡± This narrative has been purloined without the author''s approval. Report any appearances on Amazon. Coughing loudly, Arch-mage Jennings interrupted, ¡°Yes, well, circumstances required your presence. And since you weren¡¯t answering your link, this was the next best thing.¡± Nero chewed his pancakes, staring hard at the arch-mage. He said, ¡°I suppose you waited until I was alone because you didn¡¯t want to panic anyone.¡± Smiling, Jennings said, ¡°Yes! That¡¯s right. There¡¯s no reason to let this situation get any more out of hand. As long as we all stay reasonable, this situation doesn¡¯t need to escalate.¡± Nodding, Nero replied, ¡°Escalate, huh? Are you threatening to make me disappear so that I can¡¯t report the assassination attempt?¡± Confused, and appalled, Jennings immediately replied, ¡°What? Of course not. That¡¯s not what I meant at all.¡± Nero shrugged, while adding more pancakes to his plate. Without looking up, he said, ¡°You only kidnapped a noble, while making sure no one was around, delivering him into the hands of the very people who had assured him of his safety. One of whom has already tried to have him killed once before. Then you warned the noble not to be unreasonable or the situation might escalate. That sounds like a threat. Doesn¡¯t it Lord Bennings?¡± Nero looked up at Lord Bennings, daring her to deny it. Conflicted, Lord Bennings stammered, ¡°Well, technically, you could interpret it that way. However, I think the arch-mage was just trying to alleviate your concerns.¡± Nero was very good at what he called ¡®creative listening¡¯. It was a skill that enabled one to hear whatever they wanted, regardless of what the other person actually said. He learned it from his mother, who could find an insult hidden within any declarative statement. ¡°They have good pie here¡± becomes, ¡°You think my pie is bad?¡± ¡°I didn¡¯t do it¡± means, ¡°You¡¯re saying I did it?¡± ¡°You look great today¡± begs the question, ¡°I don¡¯t normally look good?¡± Snorting, Nero replied, ¡°Until I was brought here against my will, I didn¡¯t have any concerns. In fact, I was looking forward to having a shower. Now, I¡¯ve been forcibly teleported in front of the most powerful people in Dorchester, and warned not to cause a scene. I¡¯m starting to feel like my life is still in danger. Is there no one here that fears what kind of precedent this sets?¡± Lord Bennings looked shocked, while Jennings just looked annoyed. Apparently, he could tell what Nero was doing, and he didn¡¯t like it. Lord York took the bait, and offered, ¡°I assure you Lord Walker, you¡¯re not in any danger. We¡¯re only here to do what¡¯s best for Dorchester.¡± Nero held back a smile, as he saw Jennings visibly WINCE at Lord York¡¯s declaration. Leaning back in his chair in shock, Nero pretended to look afraid, and asked, ¡°And you think killing me and hiding my body in the wilds is in the best interest of Dorchester? How dare you! You should know that I¡¯ve already taken steps to ensure that a royal interception is called if anything happens to me.¡± City-Lord Cosgrave said tiredly, ¡°Royal INTERCESSION, not interception.¡± Snapping his fingers, he pointed at the city-lord, abandoning his act. ¡°Yeah, that!¡± he said happily. Arch-mage Jennings sighed, and loudly said, ¡°Enough! No one is threatening you. We just brought you here to figure out how to get out of this mess with the least amount of disruption to the city. What will it take for you to agree to arbitration?¡± The general chimed in, ¡°Keep in mind that the parties responsible have already been apprehended. Therefore, there is no reason to make a spectacle. You just need to fill out some forms, and we can all return to dealing with the density shift.¡± Nero raised his eyebrows in surprise. He was unaware that they had already investigated what had happened. Did they already know who was responsible? How long have they known? Are they going to scapegoat someone? Every question he thought of made him angrier. His shoulders tensed, and his jaw clenched. Nero¡¯s glare pierced the room, and if his eyes were daggers, the general would be bleeding. His voice tight with repressed fury, he asked, ¡°How long have you been aware of this plot?¡± The general met Nero¡¯s stare, not intimidated in the least. ¡°I only found out after the attempt was made. However, you should have already been aware of the plot. After all, one of my men passed on a warning to you in your mission packet.¡± The general finished with an easy smile, as though he had just invalidated Nero¡¯s position as a victim. Nero tapped his fingers on the table, staring hard at the general. ¡®If that¡¯s true, then Nick is never going to let me live this down,¡¯ he thought. Doing his best not to show his distress, Nero¡¯s mind raced through the implications. Forcibly stopping himself from thinking about how stupid this made him look, he tried to focus on reframing the argument. How could he have let the general take control of the conversation? The room was silent for almost a whole minute while Nero exchanged glares with the general. The city-lord didn¡¯t see why it mattered, either way she was still implicated. But Jennings applauded the general¡¯s play. By implying that Nero should have known what was happening, then Nero wasn¡¯t without blame. Granted it was only a mind game, but perceptions do matter. But Jennings¡¯ smile withered when he saw Nero smirk. Matching the general¡¯s light tone, Nero said, ¡°You mean to tell me that one of your men passed me a secret note? I didn¡¯t have a chance to see it. But I¡¯m more interested in what that says about the army. Why didn¡¯t he report the plot? Did he not trust you to handle it? After all, you seemed to find the culprit rather quickly. I only just returned to Dorchester today. How did you know who was responsible? If your man didn¡¯t tell you, then how did you find out? How many people were involved? Was the army behind this?¡± The general¡¯s smile faltered. It went from an easy smile, to a plastic one. Even from across the room, Nero could see the man trying to choose his words carefully. Wary of the general¡¯s response, Nero asked, ¡°Were you aware of a plot to have me assassinated in the wilds? Yes or No?¡± What was left of the general¡¯s smile faded away, and he shifted in his seat. Trying to sound in control, he said, ¡°It¡¯s not that simple young man. At any given time, there are many -¡± Nero slammed his palm on the table, shaking the silverware. Loudly, he said, ¡°Perhaps that is why your man didn¡¯t tell you. You had knowledge that someone was plotting the attempt, and yet you did nothing.¡± He turned his glare on the city-lord, and said, ¡°It looks like events are repeating themselves. Someone tries to have me killed, while the people in power stand aside and let it happen. Then when the plot fails, they claim innocence and friendship for House Walker.¡± Turning his glare on Jennings, he added, ¡°After all, what kind of person stands by and lets people try and kill their friend?¡± Jennings grimaced at Nero¡¯s rebuke. He thought to himself, ¡®How in the hells did the little shit time it so perfectly?¡¯ Just then, the doors to the room opened up, and Vera strode in with her chin held high. She was flanked by Nick and Cathleen, while two stern-faced people followed in her wake. Her voice rang out strong and clear, ¡°I demand to know why Lord Walker has been abducted from my estate?¡± Her eyes sought out Lord Bennings, and she added, ¡°This flagrant disregard of the law, while the director of the Tower of Law is in attendance no less, demands formalized sanctions. Rest assured lords of Dorchester, you will NOT get away with this.¡± While all eyes were locked on the imperious woman, Nero¡¯s chuckle carried across the room, and they heard him say, ¡°I told you she¡¯d be pissed.¡± Chapter 110 - How justice is done... noble style. Arch-mage Mathers sat in the director¡¯s chair at the head of the council table. Everyone who could be was in attendance. After all, how often did you get to see Arch-mage Jennings have to deal with a situation he was directly responsible for. This was the event of the decade. Frowning, he watched as two arch-mages whispered harshly at each other. They were both hunched over the communication crystal, trying to counteract the ward Jennings had put up. Several different scrying rooms were being utilized in concert, and then funneled into a central control room, which was then being transferred into the council¡¯s communication crystal. If correctly tuned, the Tower of Magic in Hennings could pierce even the strongest wards. While mages around the room whispered to each other in anticipation, Mathers shouted, ¡°Well? What¡¯s the problem?¡± One of the arch-mages turned around to glare at Mathers. With a voice full of scorn she shouted right back, ¡°If you think you can do better, why don¡¯t you come over here and help?¡± Just then, the other arch-mage stood up from the crystal, shouting, ¡°We got it!¡± Like a movie theater quieting down during the opening credits, everyone rushed to their seats and got out their snacks. A large hologram appeared on the wall, and they could see Arch-mage Jennings standing in front of a group of nobles. Someone helpfully pointed out, ¡°That¡¯s the council of leadership for Dorchester.¡± Rounds of ¡®oohs¡¯ and ¡®aahs¡¯ filled the room. They watched as Jennings tried to get the nobles to focus on appeasing the anomaly. Time passed, and the suggestions Jennings was adding to the hologram were becoming increasingly crazy. From off to the side, someone asked a little too loudly, ¡°Why didn¡¯t he just kill the anomaly before he could make it back to the city?¡± Immediately, shouts of ¡®boos¡¯ and insults were hurled at the mage. The people around him started smacking him over the head, and there were even people throwing food. Cheers rang out, as the mage was forced to flee the room. As the crowd quieted down, Mathers loudly declared, ¡°At some point, someone please explain to him why we don¡¯t just go around killing new nobles. Especially new nobles who are particularly interesting.¡± Someone from around where the man was standing responded, ¡°I¡¯ll take care of it, arch-mage. He¡¯s from Patergrouse, on the coast.¡± Several mutters rang out across the room. That seemed to explain everything, and everyone returned to watching Jennings try and reign in the nobles. As time passed, no one left. Mages in general were used to staring at a scry for hours on end, and it was enjoyable to watch Arch-mage Jennings sweat. After all, over the years, everyone one of them had at one point in time been loudly berated by the ornery old man. When he forcefully teleported the anomaly, the crowd erupted. Shouts of ¡°He¡¯s really done it now!¡± and ¡°Is he crazy?¡± filled the room. Mathers shook his head in disbelief. ¡®How in hells did the man think that was a good idea?¡¯ he wondered. The anomaly¡¯s response quieted the room, as everyone wanted to hear what he was saying. And when he demanded pancakes, shouts of support and laughter caused the room to shake. There was absolutely nothing better than watching the anomaly drive people around him crazy. When the anomaly returned to the room, they watched the show begin in earnest. Quiet whispers swept across the room, as the mages dissected the arguments. There were questions about the details of what happened, who was responsible, and what laws were relevant. When the general mentioned a secret document, the room filled with more ¡®oohs¡¯ and mutters of ¡°No way!¡±, and ¡°Seriously?¡± Even Mathers wasn¡¯t above showing signs of shock at the reveal. But when Vera Salvatore-Verena marched through the door, the entire council hall went silent. Mathers¡¯ smile was wide as he sat up in his seat and said, ¡°OK. Here we go!¡± ----- Jennings watched as Vera and Nick took their seats next to Nero, while Cathleen and the two unknowns took up positions behind them. Narrowing his eyes, he looked around the room at the other tables, and couldn¡¯t help but wonder if Vera had only brought the extras so that their table looked as full as everyone else¡¯s. Arch-mage Jennings said hurriedly, ¡°There is no reason to speak of sanctions. I merely brought Lord Walker here so that the council of leadership could personally address this issue as soon as possible. Everyone here is dedicated to punishing those responsible, and ensuring that Dorchester survives this ill-advised plot.¡± While Arch-mage Jennings spoke, Vera was completely ignoring him. Instead of paying attention, she was taking things out of her personal dimension. Files, pens, and even a little plaque that said ¡®House Walker¡¯ made their appearance. She took her time, carefully placing each piece exactly where she wanted it. Her posture was rigid, and when she finished, she calmly clasped her hands in front of her, then looked up to glare at the arch-mage. ¡°If only we could believe that. Just a few weeks ago, this council stood by and let an assassination challenge stand against our house. Our house head, a new noble, was forced to defend his ascension by a bitter house that was in fact trying to humiliate YOU, Arch-mage Jennings,¡± she said. Turning to look at the city-lord, she continued, ¡°And that plot was only allowed to unfold with YOUR son¡¯s support.¡± Moving her glare over to Lord Bennings, she said, ¡°Meanwhile, the director of the Tower of Law, YOU, Lord Bennings stood by in support.¡± As Vera tore into each of the attendants, Nero took the opportunity to reach into his personal space and pull out the mission packet that he had ignored. He put it in his lap, while hiding it under the table. Even if people realized what he was doing, he didn¡¯t want to distract from Vera¡¯s lambasting of the nobles. Flipping through the pages, he frowned at all the information it contained. There was an entire section dedicated to ¡®watch protocols¡¯. ¡®This damn thing isn¡¯t a packet, it¡¯s a BOOK. Why the hell did they give this to us the night before we headed out? Shouldn¡¯t they have given us time to study?¡¯ he mentally complained. After he thumbed past the maps, which he had no idea how to read, he saw a handwritten note. Raising his eyebrows in surprise, he pulled it out and read it. Lord Walker, You may remember me from when I showed you around the Gate 7 army compound. I¡¯m sorry about keeping my distance, but you¡¯ll understand why after you read this. My father is Lord Blackwood. I¡¯m one of his sons. My mother was a Wayfinder from Gorn. When I came to the city, my father let me officially join his house. Although I¡¯m not his heir, or even among his trusted family, he gives me a stipend and looks out for me. To my shame, I approached him for aid in getting out of the elites. I¡¯ve been in the wilds before, and I have no desire to return to that nightmare. Unauthorized duplication: this tale has been taken without consent. Report sightings. The reason any of this is relevant is that when I spoke with him a few days ago, he demanded my cooperation with one of his plots. I¡¯ve helped him out before, but this time he¡¯s gone too far. He¡¯s planning your assassination. I¡¯m unable to stop him. He has people everywhere, and until he acts, there is nothing I can do. He made me hand over your team¡¯s proposed route through the wilds. You should expect an attack by a team of hunters. I don¡¯t know who else is involved, or any specifics. Please be careful. Also, destroy this letter. If it gets out that I warned you, I don¡¯t know what my father will do to me. Being cut off from his money will be the least of my concerns. Hopefully not your enemy, Sergeant Terry Cooper-Blackwood. ¡®Huh,¡¯ thought Nero. He hadn¡¯t realized that family drama could be a thing here. Did the sergeant have ¡®daddy issues¡¯ or was this some kind of noble nonsense he didn¡¯t understand? Why couldn¡¯t the sergeant have just reported the attempt? Without any more details, Nero had to assume the sergeant didn¡¯t know whom he could trust. Smiling, Nero thought, ¡®Hey! Wasn¡¯t that one of the completely random accusations I threw at the general? Awesome!¡¯ He placed the letter and the packet on the table, and started paying attention again. Vera was still verbally assaulting the nobles. ¡°And the moment he returns to safety, he¡¯s forcibly taken against his will. How can you justify kidnapping a noble from his proxy¡¯s residence? And once again, the director of the Tower of Law stands by and says nothing. How do any of you expect to get away with this?¡± she said, her voice dripping with accusation. Arch-mage Jennings looked like he had been caught by his wife after going to a strip club. And the other nobles looked just as guilty. Even the general was having trouble meeting Vera¡¯s glare. The room seemed to pause. No one knew who Vera expected to answer. In the end, it was the city-lord who spoke up their defense. Nero had to hand it to her, the woman was fearless. Although she looked tired, City-lord Cosgrave¡¯s eyes still held a spark of fire. ¡°The arch-mage may have acted rashly in bringing Lord Walker here, but there was no malicious intent. Everyone here is committed to resolving this issue with no ulterior motives,¡± she said firmly. Nero didn¡¯t want the conversation to proceed without touching base with Vera, so he opened a hesitant connection to her. Even though she was sitting right next to him, he tried to act natural. Vera was more than capable of having a conversation over the link while participating in a meeting. So, she didn¡¯t bat an eye when she opened the connection and said, ¡°Yes, What is it?¡± While Vera verbally sparred with the city-lord, Nero let her know about the letter Sergeant Blackwood had hidden in the mission packet, and why Nero hadn¡¯t read it. He tried to be brief, as he could feel her amusement over the link. Embarrassed, he attempted to redeem himself by letting her know about his conclusions, and letting her know that the general had said they already had the mastermind in custody. Without missing a beat, Vera skillfully steered the conversation to where she needed it. ¡°I¡¯ve been told that you arrested the mastermind before Lord Walker had even returned from the wilds? I¡¯d like to know how that was possible if you weren¡¯t aware of the plot beforehand?¡± she asked. The general¡¯s firm voice loudly declared, ¡°We only found out after the attempt was already made.¡± Vera responded quickly, ¡°Lord Bennings, is that true? If so, how was the investigation handled?¡± Lord Bennings shifted in her seat, while replying, ¡°The Tower of Law hadn¡¯t formally been informed of any plot. In fact, I was only made aware of it when I was requested for this emergency meeting. In fact, no arrests have been made at this time.¡± Nero couldn¡¯t stop himself from saying, ¡°Except for the arrest my team made. The assassin was dropped off at Gate 14¡¯s Tower of Law an hour ago.¡± Nodding, Lord Bennings said, ¡°Yes, that¡¯s true. That¡¯s when our investigation became official.¡± Vera¡¯s voice was cold as she demanded, ¡°Then when the general says ¡®the perpetrators are in custody¡¯, who is he talking about? And who made the arrest? Or have more people been kidnapped without regard for the law?¡± Jennings repressed his urge to sigh. Listening to Vera, he chastised himself for acting rashly. The fact that he immediately reported who was responsible, was a mistake he never should have made. It demonstrated his prior knowledge of the plot. ¡®Rookie mistake, old man,¡¯ he chided himself. Taking advantage of the opportunity to shift the blame, the city-lord said, ¡°I confined my daughter to her rooms when I heard what happened from Arch-mage Jennings. As for Lord Blackwood, he was taken into custody by the arch-mage. I¡¯m still not sure if there was anyone else involved.¡± Nero raised his eyebrows in surprise, but managed not to say anything. He hadn¡¯t known the princess was involved. Vera managed to hide her feelings much better than Nero, and turned her glare on the arch-mage. ¡°When did you find out about the plot? And why did you let it proceed?¡± she asked. He needed to keep his foreknowledge quiet. It would be disastrous if Nero found out about him letting the plot move forward without doing anything. ¡°Well, I didn¡¯t know the specifics. I knew that there was a possibility that something might happen, but until I watched Lord Walker interrogate the assassin, I didn¡¯t know anything for sure. From there, I did some investigating, and found the connection to Deidre Cosgrave. I also tracked down the mage who Lord Blackwood was using to track Lord Walker¡¯s team,¡± said Jennings, while trying to sound proud. He knew that it was imperative to hide the fact that he had known about the plot since its inception. If Nero found out that Jennings had let it happen, any trust the young lord had would vanish. It was better for the little lord to think he was incompetent, rather than duplicitous. ¡°Why haven¡¯t they been turned over to the Tower of Law?¡± asked Vera. City-lord Cosgrave held her arms out wide, implying that she had nothing to hide. ¡°The moment the Tower of Law is given custody, formal arrest reports will have to be filed. If that happens, it would lead to Dorchester¡¯s downfall.¡± Nero held a hand to his mouth, and coughed/said, ¡°Bullshit!¡± Vera was aware of what the city-lord was alluding to, but rather than give ground, she asked, ¡°So what are you offering as an alternative? More banishments, and empty apologies? How many other Cosgraves will be allowed to act against House Walker before you do your jobs?¡± Lord York said with a smile, ¡°I propose that House Cosgrave is allowed to fall. There is no point in avoiding the consequences of their actions.¡± Lords Voltan and Peyton stayed quiet. As far as Nero could tell, they were just waiting to see how this all played out. Arch-Mage Jennings said, ¡°Dorchester cannot afford a noble war for the city-seat right now. It¡¯s unnecessary. The city-lord is more than happy to punish those who were actually responsible.¡± Vera raised one eyebrow in consideration, and asked, ¡°Punish how?¡± City-Lord Cosgrave leaned forward in her seat, and with a voice full of steel, she said, ¡°Execution. In return for allowing us to settle this in arbitration, I¡¯ll offer my daughter along with House Blackwood. I can¡¯t turn over their assets, but I can pay damages from the city¡¯s coffers after House Blackwood has been absorbed by the city.¡± Over the link, Nero told Vera, ¡°What about the sergeant, he was loyal enough to try and warn me. How will that affect him? And isn¡¯t the city-lord¡¯s son still alive? How many enemies will we have remaining? It¡¯s pointless to kill one and make two more. And is actual execution like that a thing here? Isn¡¯t that¡­ I don¡¯t know¡­ She¡¯s just a spoiled little rich girl, right?¡± Vera heard what Nero said, but didn¡¯t respond. To Nero, her psyche seemed calm, and focused. Tapping her finger on the table in thought, she asked, ¡°So, Lord Blackwood and his family are offered as sacrifice, and their assets transferred to Lord Walker using the city as an intermediary. Your daughter is executed as a traitor to your house. And the Tower of Law deals with the commoners. Is that what you¡¯re proposing?¡± The general¡¯s harsh voice rang out, ¡°Seems reasonable to me.¡± Vera turned her glare back to full power and stared across the room at the man. Her smile slowly grew as she said, ¡°I have a counter-proposal.¡± Nero crossed his arms, and leaned back in his chair. ¡®This ought to be good,¡¯ he thought. Chapter 111 - The noble perspective. In the Hennings Tower of Magic¡¯s council hall, everyone was engrossed in watching the events play out on the large hologram. But not all of those in attendance really knew what was going on. Many were only there because of word of mouth, and some had been dragged along by their colleagues. Whispering to his boss, he asked, ¡°So, this Dorchester is in the southern strates? How far away is it from the border?¡± His boss leaned her head closer, while continuing to watch the hologram. She replied quietly, ¡°It¡¯s well away from the Islangur border. This has nothing to do with the war.¡± Confused, he said, ¡°I don¡¯t get it. Why is everyone so into watching this? It¡¯s just some standard noble drama centered around a soul that hijacked a kid¡¯s body in the middle of nowhere. What¡¯s the big deal?¡± Annoyed, she slapped his arm, and hissed, ¡°It¡¯s an epic! A soul finding itself in a foreign land and being forced to adapt. He¡¯s found a family and friends, suffered betrayals, challenged the established norms, been forced to grow at an astounding rate, and I think there is a love story brewing. And the backdrop of a small city¡¯s noble ascension during a density shift gives the whole thing a sense of gravitas.¡± Several people around them glared angrily while ¡®shushing¡¯ them. Both he and his boss offered nods of apology, and went silent. A few seconds passed, as the hologram continued to display the events playing out in Dorchester council hall. Shifting uneasily, the mage couldn¡¯t contain himself, and he leaned over to whisper at his boss again. ¡°Every time I¡¯ve watched the recordings, it¡¯s always been about a rude little guy who is always making everyone around him angry. He barely knows magic, doesn¡¯t want to accept responsibility for his actions, and constantly complains about everything. It¡¯s just my opinion Boss, but I think you might be reading into it a little too much.¡± Angrily, she whispered harshly, ¡°You just don¡¯t understand what¡¯s happening. This will be a chronicle showing the rise of one of the most powerful mages of their time. It will be studied by scholars for years. If you can¡¯t see that, you¡¯re an idiot.¡± Snorting, he mumbled, ¡°Right, and I¡¯m sure the fact that the young man continues to luck his way through life, relying on his good looks and connections, doesn¡¯t in any way contradict your position.¡± From behind them, a tall mage leaned in between them, and whispered, ¡°You¡¯re both wrong. The reason the scry-recordings are popular is because the subject offers a mirror to our societal beliefs. The themes of family and nobility are merely what keeps the main character grounded in reality. What matters is how he sees the world we live in, and how we can improve it.¡± The short woman, who was the lead for their research team, turned to look at the pretentious man behind her and glared up at him. ¡°The draw is interpersonal relationships and how we can get through anything with the help of friends and family. And if you two don¡¯t shut-up and let me watch this, I¡¯m going to assign you both to reactor cleaning duty, do you hear me?!?¡± Everyone around them turned in unison, harshly ¡®shushing¡¯ the three of them. In response, they held up their hands, and quietly whispered, ¡°Sorry!¡± Silent once again, everyone returned to watching the little lord¡¯s proxy defend his interests in front of the city¡¯s council of leadership. ----- As Nero mentally prepared for Vera, his proxy, to drop the proverbial hammer, he smiled at the nervous nobles. ¡®Come on Auntie Vera, let ¡®em have it!¡¯ he mentally cheered. With a self-satisfied smile on her face, Vera said, ¡°It seems as long as House Cosgrave sees House Walker as a threat, they will continue to act against them. Regardless of whether or not they are under the protection of the royals. If you wish to avoid a war for the city-seat, I see only one option¡­ House Walker must join House Cosgrave. I propose that City-lord Cosgrave takes Lord Walker as her husband.¡± She kept her smile, as she stared down the room. Nero¡¯s smile faltered, his brain stuttered to a stop, and he shouted, ¡°You want her to what now?¡± Despite Nero glaring at her, she completely ignored his outburst, and continued, ¡°As the city-lord is her house¡¯s head, Lord Walker would join House Cosgrave. The house of Walker would be no more, and all its assets would be divided among its members according to their rank. As Lord Walker is the only member, everything would become his personal assets. In order to ensure his safety, a rider to the marriage contract would be required, ensuring his protection. As for Lord Blackwood, he needs to die, but his House can continue under the leadership of his heirs.¡± Nero sat in stunned shock, staring at Vera like he had just found out that she borrowed his car without asking, and then crashed it. The nobles were exchanging looks, while the general was nodding. Even the city-lord seemed to be reluctantly considering the idea. Arch-mage Jennings¡¯ face looked resigned, as if the situation was already decided. Nero was NOT going to stand for this. Slamming his palms on the table, he shot to his feet and shouted, ¡°There is no way in hell that I¡¯m marrying the woman who may or may not have been trying to kill me. This is insane. What the hell is wrong with you people? How does that even make sense to you?!?¡± To his left, he could hear Nick trying to hide his laughter. The nobles all reeled back in shock at Nero¡¯s outburst, while Jennings started laughing. The old bastard was actually laughing at him! Vera¡¯s calm voice interrupted his racing thoughts. ¡°Nero, calm down. It¡¯s the most logical result. By becoming a member of House Cosgrave, a lot of problems would be solved. The threat of House Walker would be neutralized in the eyes of the nobles, and you would be protected. There may be some ruffled feathers, but if the entire council is behind it, there isn¡¯t much anyone can do. No one in Dorchester would act against the House controlling the city. Even the city-lords daughter and son would have to fall in line.¡± Nero¡¯s head slowly turned to her while she was talking. He felt like the entire world had gone crazy. Any semblance of control that he had felt was evaporating like water in a humidifier. Nick spoke up, addressing Vera and the nobles, ¡°He doesn¡¯t understand. You¡¯re all treating this like a standard noble dispute. But, you have to keep in mind that until two weeks ago, Nero wasn¡¯t a noble. In fact, he wasn¡¯t from anywhere around here. Nero¡¯s wrong, you¡¯re not insane, but you are severely misjudging the situation. Political marriages may not be something he¡¯d considered.¡± Arch-mage Jennings added, ¡°Nero, think about what marriage actually means. It¡¯s merely a contract stating that you agree to tie your worldly pursuits together. Think of it as a business merger. You don¡¯t have to sleep with her, or even live with her. Aside from the tax implications, and the tithe you would owe to House Cosgrave, nothing would really change for you. You¡¯d go from being a minor noble to the top of the local ladder. Although extreme, it IS an elegant solution.¡± Nero didn¡¯t know what to feel. Even though he KNEW it was crazy, they were all staring at him with calm expressions on their faces. It was like the entire room was absolutely sure of something he knew for a fact was wrong. How do you argue with that. Looking over at the city-lord, he saw her sitting there with a reassuring smile on her face. He had to admit the woman was gorgeous. She was curvy, had beautiful flowing hair, and striking features. But, she was old. She looked nearly 40, and he was only 14, and a small 14 at that. Who knows how old she actually is? And didn¡¯t she have consorts? One of whom just tried to have him killed? Running a hand through his hair, he stared at the ceiling in thought. Seconds passed, and the room waited in silence. Finally, he said, ¡°Look. I understand that this is some kind of cultural thing I don¡¯t understand. I¡¯m sure there are a lot of logical reasons that I should agree with. But, marriage has some connotations that you are all ignoring. Like, she has consorts, and kids. When I get married, I don¡¯t want to share my wife, and I¡¯m not ready to be a father.¡± Vera looked at Nero with confusion, and said, ¡°But you can¡¯t be the primary. She is a house head. For you to be the one with control, she¡¯d have to join your house, and that would defeat the entire purpose of what we¡¯re trying to do here?¡± Unauthorized content usage: if you discover this narrative on Amazon, report the violation. Nero looked around, and the entire room was nodding in agreement. He couldn¡¯t help it, it was all so crazy. So, he started laughing. It started out small, but soon ballooned into big booming laughter that made his sides hurt. Everyone in the room, aides included, shared uncomfortable looks. The entire council of leadership wondered whether or not Dorchester¡¯s newest noble may have an undiagnosed mental problem. Nick stood up, patting Nero on the back, and then returning the young man to his seat. While Nero recovered, panting heavily, Nick addressed the room, ¡°I think Nero is suffering from culture shock. Think of it as how you might feel when confronted with a scenario so counter to your belief system that you find it ridiculous. Have any of you visited the Marchese coast? I read a paper about how their leaders used to wear incredibly over-sized hats, and before they were incorporated into Oglivarch, we were forced into a war with them when our envoy couldn¡¯t stop herself from laughing at them. Aside from being an interesting paper, it was rather funny.¡± Nero couldn¡¯t stop himself from staring at Nick. How could the man equate their views on marriage with abnormally large hats. What was even more surreal, was that the entire room seemed to take his point. They all nodded along, as if Nick¡¯s story explained everything. Nero wasn¡¯t sure how he should proceed, but this entire thing had taken a turn that he didn¡¯t like. Before anyone could say anything, he stood back up, and said, ¡°Nick, sit down. I have something to say.¡± Shrugging, Nick returned to his seat. And Nero looked around the room at all the curious faces. They seemed incredibly interested in what he was about to say, and for the first time in a while, Nero felt nervous. After taking a deep breath, he said, ¡°Let me put it simply, I¡¯m not going to marry the city-lord. I get that it would solve some problems, but it isn¡¯t going to happen. I have nothing against her, I just don¡¯t want to marry her. Even if it is an open marriage, that isn¡¯t going to work for me. Think of my life as a car, or a carriage. I have no problem with someone else driving it, but I need to be the one who chooses the destination. For the record, I think it¡¯s great that you are all so open with your sexuality, but I¡¯m not there yet. When I found out about consorts, I specifically didn¡¯t ask about it. I don¡¯t know how it works, and I have no desire to hear about it now. Having a harem sounds great in theory, but I have no intention of being part of someone else¡¯s, and that¡¯s final. Let¡¯s just focus on dealing with this situation without involving the word marriage.¡± After he finished, he sank into his seat like he had just confessed at an Alcoholics Anonymous meeting. Vera sounded annoyed, as she asked, ¡°You won¡¯t even consider it? You are aware that you would immediately be raised to nobility, and you wouldn¡¯t have to continue with your trials. As the city-lord, with the support of the council, she could bypass the courtship period, and appoint you to the position of her husband by tomorrow.¡± Nero met her stare, and said, ¡°No. And even though it might solve some problems, it will cause plenty more.¡± From across the room, the general asked harshly, ¡°What problems?¡± Nero offered a half shrug, and replied, ¡°Think about it. Let¡¯s say that this solves the problem of House Cosgrave wanting me dead. Which for the record, I still don¡¯t think they do. But, for a moment, let¡¯s take that as a given. It won¡¯t stop the city-lord¡¯s children from having a problem with me. All it would do was give them something else to be pissed about. If the threat of the royals didn¡¯t stop them, do you think some marriage contract would? So, that¡¯s one problem.¡± Getting into it, Nero¡¯s eyes glazed over, and he started tapping his fingers in thought on the table. He continued, ¡°And then there are the other nobles. Even if you all think this is fine, I¡¯m sure there are plenty of houses that wanted to marry into the Cosgraves. That¡¯s probably why she is still unmarried. She was using the potential of marriage as a bargaining chip. And what about the consorts? I¡¯m sure they¡¯ll be pissed. Even if they pretend not to care, being passed over for some little bastard who isn¡¯t even sleeping with their woman has to merit some kind of emotional response!¡± Standing up, Nero stepped behind the table, and started pacing. Waving his hands while he thought out loud, he said, ¡°And then there is the various awards that are scheduled for House Walker. What would happen with them? I¡¯m supposed to be getting a bunch of paychecks for killing that assassin, or maybe that already happened. But I also have that ¡®exploit¡¯ or whatever to deal with. Would that get transferred to House Cosgrave? And what about my alliance with Vera and Nick¡¯s house. They just formed their house. I don¡¯t even know how our partnership is structured. Who¡¯s going to be running all my businesses if Vera doesn¡¯t do it. She hasn¡¯t even found me an accountant yet! I¡¯m not ready to run anything on my own, and I sure as hell can¡¯t be a trophy husband. I haven¡¯t even had my magic school arc yet!¡± Shaking his head vigorously, he kept talking loudly to himself, ¡°No, no, no. They¡¯re thinking about this all wrong. I can¡¯t let their idiocy influence my thinking. The problem is simple. People tried to kill me. I need to eliminate the threat. How do I do that?¡± Nick was watching Nero, amused to see his friend returning to his old shenanigans. Meanwhile, the entire council hall sat in silence, mulling over what Nero was saying. The general sat back in his chair, deep in thought. From his perspective, he was surprised at how much sense the young man was making. Even the city-lord couldn¡¯t refute anything she heard. She was, in fact, impressed with his analytical skills. Nero¡¯s head snapped to Arch-mage Jennings, and he asked, ¡°Did anyone question Lord Blackwood and Deedee Cosgrave?¡± The arch-mage stood there with his arms crossed, amused at Nero¡¯s performance. He replied easily, ¡°Yes, but her name is Deidre. Why?¡± Nero rolled his eyes, and said, ¡°Motive. Obviously. Why did they want me dead?¡± Arch-mage Jennings¡¯ smile faltered, and he glanced over at the city-lord. Nero followed his eye-line, and offered a curious look to the woman. Still sitting imperiously in her throne, she sighed, and said, ¡°It seems that Lord Blackwood was seduced by my daughter. She was the one who really wanted you dead. Apparently, she thought that killing you would somehow remove any reason for her brother¡¯s exile. She just wanted her Derek to return to Dorchester, and for everything to return to how it was.¡± Nero took a few seconds to stare at her in shock, before saying, ¡°Yeah, I¡¯m definitely not going to let you raise my kids. You suck at it.¡± Turning away, he returned to pacing, and then resumed talking to himself, ¡°So, the children are a lost cause. No one that stupid should be allowed to remain a threat. Even if I swore that I wasn¡¯t interested in politics, they would still continue to try and kill me. And Lord Blackwood fell for the honey-pot, so he¡¯s mentally compromised. They all have to go. Crap, executions give me the willies. There has to be some alternative?¡± he gave into a full body shiver, then resumed pacing. Vera said, ¡°Are you worried about the city-lord¡¯s retaliation for the death of her children?¡± Nero turned around quickly, and saw Vera¡¯s curious face staring back at him. She didn¡¯t look horrified at the thought, merely curious about how Nero thought the city-lord would react. ¡®Man, that woman is ice cold,¡¯ he thought. He looked over to the city-lord, and asked, ¡°Would you really want retribution? You already offered to execute your daughter and Blackwood. I could be wrong, but you strike me as a total pragmatist.¡± City-lord Heleema Cosgrave¡¯s face was carved from stone, and she replied, ¡°No. House Cosgrave will not seek retribution for their deaths. You are right to question their intelligence. Both of my children were disappointments, and I accept full responsibility for my failures while raising them. My next batch will be much better. I¡¯ll ensure that they are raised to think before they act, and to truly understand the game. Rest assured, that House Cosgrave will put this incident behind us, and do what it can to foster a friendship with House Walker if you would allow this to be settled with arbitration.¡± Nero listened to her speech, trying to parse through the political double-speak. Making sure he understood, he said, ¡°So, if I¡¯m understanding correctly. You¡¯re sorry that your kids tried to kill me, and you want to wipe the board clean. Your kids get executed, and you and I start from scratch. No more plots to kill me, and we both get on with our lives?¡± Smirking slightly, the city-lord nodded once, and said, ¡°Yes, that is correct. I appreciate your bluntness, and I heard no insult.¡± Confused, but not really interested in finding out what she meant, the concept of a mother perfectly willing to kill her children was too weird for him to accept. Changing the subject, he turned to Jennings and asked, ¡°If we kill Lord Blackwood, what happens to his house?¡± The arch-mage¡¯s arms were still crossed, and he lazily raised a hand to point at Lord Bennings. Nero turned to look at the prim-and-proper woman. She coughed lightly into her hand, to clear her throat, before saying, ¡°Lord Blackwood¡¯s heir is currently his 3rd child, a daughter name Victoria. She is the fruit of a liaison between Lord Blackwood and a daughter of House Lorkan. Raised under the banner of House Blackwood, Victoria Blackwood currently oversees all of House Blackwood¡¯s interests. She stands to inherit everything. As far as I know, they have a close relationship.¡± Nero nodded, while rubbing his chin. He quickly said, ¡°Thank you. That¡¯s useful.¡± Turning back to Jennings, he said, ¡°Can you get her here? You don¡¯t have a problem kidnapping people, right?¡± Looking a little insulted, he replied, ¡°Well, why don¡¯t I just ping her first? I don¡¯t think it¡¯s necessary to just teleport her without asking.¡± Snorting, Nero muttered, ¡°So, you only do that to your friends.¡± Putting his hands on his hips, he said, ¡°Just get her here. I want to talk with her.¡± While the arch-mage contacted her, Nero returned to his seat. Sitting back down, he felt Vera lean in and whisper, ¡°Before you get ahead of yourself, you need to remember to get something out of this. Solving the problem doesn¡¯t get us paid. If you don¡¯t want control of the city, what is it you DO want.¡± Nero looked at her, then opened up a connection to her through the link. Not batting an eye, she kept up her stare as she accepted the connection, and said, ¡°Well?¡± Nero smiled, and said, ¡°Once I figure out how to reduce my enemies to zero, then we can figure out what we can get. I was planning on letting you handle everything, but I didn¡¯t know you¡¯d try and marry me off to someone old enough to be my grandmother, or maybe older. I don¡¯t know how old the city-lord is. Anyway, just think up what we can ask for. Concentrate on money and power. Money is always good, but power usually comes with responsibility. Be careful not to get me a job, because I assure you, I won¡¯t do it.¡± Hearing the arch-mage say, ¡°Alright, she¡¯s ready to present herself before the council. I don¡¯t know what she¡¯s aware of. All I told her was that she was needed for a matter of the utmost importance.¡± Nero halted the mental conversation with Vera, and they both turned to look at the arch-mage. The council hall sat in silence, as a golden flash appeared over the seal of Dorchester in the center of the room. When the light faded, a tall woman with black hair in a tight bun appeared. Her robes were pale gray, and she looked like she was dressed for a courtroom appearance. Although attractive, her eyes were puffy, and she looked like she had been crying. Despite that, her posture was full of confidence. Her eyes darted around the room, then paused when they saw Nero. Her shoulder¡¯s slumped a little, and she said, ¡°House Blackwood formally apologizes for the actions of our house head. If there is anything we can do to avoid our extermination, please let me know.¡± Nero¡¯s eyes widened in shock at her blunt plea for her life, and he replied, ¡°Um¡­ okay.¡± Chapter 112 - Heirs and airs. Sergeant Terrance Blackwood sat with his back against the wall of the impromptu cell. The smell of fresh cut wood reminded him of how recently it was built. Regulations required soldiers under investigation to be either confined to their quarters, or held in a detention cell. As they were currently in the wilds, this was the best they could do. As they were short-handed, he actually had been part of the construction detail. He had been ordered to build his own cell. Trying to take his mind off of his current situation, he was reading the historical account of the life and times of Victor Mosenbaum: The Tiny Terror. It had been recommended to him by one of the lovely ladies he was seeing in Dorchester, and it seemed like a good way to pass the time. But, despite the comedic value of a 5¡¯ tall adventurer with massive rage issues, he just couldn¡¯t concentrate well enough to enjoy it. Huffing in exasperation, he snapped the book shut, then tossed it onto the simple table which pretended to be furniture. Looking around the small cell, he chuckled at the lack of a door. The captain had told him that it wasn¡¯t necessary, as Terry was only in the room by choice. ¡®The man goes out of his way to have us build a detention cell so we can follow regulations, then doesn¡¯t bother to have us make a door,¡¯ he thought to himself, while feelings of camaraderie and friendship caused him to crack a smile. Instead of improving his mood, the reminder of his friendship with the captain caused his stomach to turn. He slammed the back of his head against the wall a few times while staring up at the ceiling. Out of all the times he¡¯d screwed up, this was the worst. ¡®You know you¡¯re a moron. So, why in all the hells did you think a plan made up by ¡®you¡¯ would have any chance of succeeding?¡¯ he asked himself sarcastically. Sensing the captain approaching, he sat up straight and tried to banish the brooding atmosphere. Terry watched the massive captain duck down in order to squeeze through the hole in the wall which passed for the cell¡¯s door. He couldn¡¯t suppress the smile at seeing his giant friend try and avoid destroying the flimsy wooden walls. Trying to sound cheerful, he said, ¡°Hey Captain, what brings you by?¡± Finally through the door, Captain Angelton rose to his full height and Terry held back a chuckle at the sight of the big man glaring at the ceiling, as if he were warning it not to come any closer. The captain looked down at Terry and replied, ¡°Sergeant Blackwood, I¡¯ve received word from command. Wesker¡¯s team has made it back to Dorchester. No casualties.¡± Terry felt some of the tension release from his shoulders, and he sighed in relief. Smiling ruefully, he looked up at his longtime friend and asked, ¡°What about my old man?¡± Captain Angelton¡¯s face turned a little grouchy, and replied, ¡°It seems that the arch-mage who is still visiting us from Hennings had been aware of the plot. Within minutes of the ambush, he collected your father. I¡¯m told he is being held within the Tower of Magic along with a mage whom he had employed for his plot.¡± Clearly confused, Terry asked, ¡°Why wasn¡¯t he turned over to the Tower of Law?¡± The captain seemed hesitant to speak, and took a few moments to think through his answer. Coming to a decision, he sighed and cast a simple privacy ward. It wouldn¡¯t stop someone who really wanted to listen in, but it was something. Staring hard at the sergeant, Captain Angelton said, ¡°This isn¡¯t something I should be talking about, but you have a right to know.¡± Suddenly nervous, Terry clasped his hands to keep them from shaking and replied, ¡°All right. What¡¯s the situation?¡± Captain Angelton¡¯s voice was devoid of emotion, as he relayed what he¡¯d learned from his conversation with General Branson. ¡°Mistress Deidre Cosgrave and your father apparently had a sexual relationship. At her request, he masterminded the plan to eliminate Lord Walker. Currently, the council of leadership, along with the general and the arch-mage are working on a plan to convince Lord Walker to settle this through arbitration. If everything goes to plan, there won¡¯t be any formal charges.¡± Stunned, Terry asked, ¡°OK. But does that mean my father may survive this?¡± With his face a mask of calm, the captain replied, ¡°Possibly.¡± Feeling his entire body go numb in shock, Terry looked up at his friend and softly said, ¡°I¡¯m a dead man, aren¡¯t I?¡± The two old friends shared a look of commiseration. They both knew that the Captain might be ordered to execute Terry within the next few hours. Neither knowing what to say, they sat in silence, letting all the things they wish they had the courage to say hang over them like a cloud. ----- Victoria Blackwood had fought hard to reach her position. At the young age of 46, she was already the heir to one of the most powerful houses in Dorchester. With her help, House Blackwood was ranked 6th on the ladder. While her father played politics, she ensured their interests were growing every year. Their distilleries were constantly expanding, and their carriage businesses were dominating the market. Despite how many siblings she had, she managed to rise to prominence, and ensure her place as the future head of the house. She had even gone as far as to have already compiled a buyout package for when her father finally convinced Lord Cosgrave to marry him. According to her old man, within the next 20 years, she would ascend to the position of the head of her house without issue. Yet now, all that was thrown into jeopardy because her father agreed to kill some random new noble for the sake of a daughter he idiotically slept with. He had not just ruined his chances of marrying the girl¡¯s mother, but he had possibly doomed House Blackwood to extermination. Years of her hard work had been ruined because her father couldn¡¯t keep it in his pants. Now she was forced to bow her head, and beg for her life in front of a child. The situation was extremely humiliating. She looked across the room at the young lord who was the subject of her father¡¯s machinations, and waited for his reply to her plea. The tale has been illicitly lifted; should you spot it on Amazon, report the violation. As she stood there patiently, Nero stared into her eyes, searching for answers. He wondered if she was hiding her anger, or perhaps plotting to avenge her father. Before he made any decisions, he needed some answers. Placing his hands behind his back, he walked around the table to get a closer look at her. Standing in front of the daughter of the man who plotted to have him killed, he asked, ¡°Before we get into whether or not your house will exist tomorrow, I¡¯d like some questions answered. Please be honest, as I¡¯m sure someone here will be able to tell if you¡¯re lying.¡± Nodding her head with a blank look on her face, she replied humbly, ¡°Of course. I will answer honestly any and all inquiries to the best of my ability.¡± Nero cocked his head to the side at her reply. ¡®This chick is as cold as Vera, isn¡¯t she?¡¯ he thought to himself. ¡°When did you find out about the assassination attempt?¡± he asked, while crossing his arms and leaning back against the front of his table. Without delay, she answered, ¡°Every evening, my father writes a summary of his current games and their progress. This morning, I received a signal from my father alerting me to a state of emergency for House Blackwood. When no further communication was received, I used my status as the heir to open his game journal. After narrowing down which plot was likely to be responsible for his silence, I learned about you returning to the city. From there, it was easy to expect a visit from the lawbringers. I did not, however, expect to be brought before the leadership council.¡± She looked around the room, calmly meeting the eyes of the various nobles, most of whom looked impatient. Nero couldn¡¯t help himself from appreciating her cold-blooded apathy. She knew the fate of her house was being decided, but she didn¡¯t break down or beg. She just patiently waited to find out what she had to do to get out of this alive. He asked, ¡°So you had no prior knowledge of his plot to have me killed? Because one of your brothers did.¡± For the first time, she showed some emotion. Anger tightened her eyes, and her voice cooled even further. ¡°Which one of my siblings was involved in this idiocy?¡± she asked. Smiling, Nero replied, ¡°Terry Cooper-Blackwood. He knew what was going on. In fact, he was the one who passed on my team¡¯s route to your father.¡± Nero saw that the general was about to interject, and he glared at the man, warning him not to interrupt. Luckily, before the general could say anything, Victoria gasped, bringing his attention back to her. Surprised, she said, ¡°Terry was involved? But he¡¯s not even in family¡¯s power ladder? Why would father involve him? Terry¡¯s an idiot! We put him in the military because that was the only thing he was capable of doing without screwing it up.¡± Nero wasn¡¯t expecting her to dismiss her brother so completely. For some reason, it pissed him off. The sergeant was a nice guy as far as he was concerned. The guy may be kind of ¡®simple¡¯, but he was the kind of man Nero could have a beer with and not worry about it meaning more than that. He was a bowling buddy, not a politician. Despite initially trying to paint the man as a conspirator, he decided to change tactics. ¡°Well, Lady¡­ wait, do I call you ¡®Lady¡¯, or ¡®Lord¡¯, or what?¡± Nero asked. His rebuke stuttered to a stop before it even started. How could he not know what he was supposed to call this woman? Did Jennings say her title? Maybe he missed it. Confused, she replied, ¡°My title is heir of House Blackwood. Technically, I¡¯m Mistress Blackwood as I¡¯m still under House Blackwood. However, as heir, I should be addressed as Lady Blackwood until I take over the position of house head. Then I would be the Lord Blackwood.¡± Nero could hear Nick chuckling behind him, and he could feel Vera¡¯s judgmental gaze burning into the back of his head. Even though he JUST heard what she said, he still didn¡¯t understand what she was talking about. All he took away from what he just heard was that she should be addressed as ¡®Lady¡¯. Nodding, he tried again, ¡°OK. So ¡®Lady¡¯ Blackwood, the only reason your house has a chance of still existing is because of your brother Terry. Despite what you might think of him, he tried to warn me of your father¡¯s plot. As he didn¡¯t know whom he could trust, and wanting to make sure that your house wouldn¡¯t be blamed for your father¡¯s actions, he heroically set aside his familial obligations and tried to do the right thing. You should be thanking him instead of insulting him.¡± Stunned, she replied, ¡°I had no idea. My father¡¯s game journal didn¡¯t mention him at all. He just spoke of the plot. I didn¡¯t know Terry was involved. I apologize for my ignorance. If House Blackwood survives, I¡¯ll ensure he is rewarded for his service.¡± Narrowing his eyes, Nero couldn¡¯t tell what exactly she meant by ¡®rewarded¡¯. Even hearing what she said, all he could glean from the subtext that the world translated was that Sergeant Blackwood would ¡®get what he deserved¡¯. Whether or not that was good for her brother or bad didn¡¯t come across at all. Nero couldn¡¯t even tell if she was deliberately being vague, or if she was so used to being political, that was just how she spoke. Wanting to get a better idea of what she was thinking, he asked, ¡°So, we are currently considering arbitration as a possible way out of this. What do you propose House Blackwood should offer in this situation?¡± Not shaken by the change of subject at all, she immediately replied, ¡°My father should be executed. He is an embarrassment to our house, and too dangerous to be left alive. Reparations in the amount of 5% of our yearly posted income should be given to House Walker as an apology. I will personally clear out my father¡¯s supporters from my house, and ensure that in the future House Blackwood stands in support of House Walker as a friend. Anything more than that would require agreements with those outside of House Blackwood and would be out of my purview.¡± Smirking, Nero asked rhetorically, ¡°Thought that through already, huh?¡± Before she could respond, he said, ¡°One moment please.¡± Then he turned around and looked at Vera. Using his connection, he asked her, ¡°So, what do you think? She kinda reminds me of you. I bet she¡¯ll clean house. Within a week, she¡¯ll take care of everyone that even remotely resembles a rival. This chick is all business.¡± Vera¡¯s stone cold eyes met his, and she replied, ¡°I agree, she seems like a capable house head. I can work with her. But 5% is an insult. Let me look something up, give me a second.¡± Giving her a slight nod, Nero turned around to address Victoria again. ¡°So when you say you¡¯ll ¡®reward¡¯ Sergeant Blackwood for warning me, does that mean you¡¯ll kill him for pulling a ¡®Fredo¡¯? Or does it mean he gets an increase in his allowance?¡± Completely confused, Victoria Blackwood stuttered, ¡°A ¡®Fredo¡¯? Is that a Claspian term for ¡®betrayer¡¯?¡­ But, no, I will welcome him into the inner family ladder for saving us all from our deserved execution. His ties with House Walker will be treated as an asset. I do not, and will not, consider an intelligent and successful gambit a betrayal of our house.¡± Before Nero could respond, he was surprised to hear Vera¡¯s voice in his head. ¡°The girl is clever. She¡¯s seen that you care about her brother. I¡¯ve looked into their assets, and here is what you¡¯re going to ask for¡­¡± As Nero listened to Vera, he couldn¡¯t help but smile. He held his stare at the composed Victoria, while he listened to his proxy outline his house¡¯s demands. Victoria Blackwood watched as Nero¡¯s grin grew but never touched his eyes. She repressed a shiver as she assumed, correctly, that his proxy was coaching him on his counter-proposal. Without any other option, she could only hope that this young lord¡¯s demands didn¡¯t ruin the house she had put so much time and effort into building. Chapter 113 - Not seeing it, doesnt mean it didnt happen. Walking through the halls, the king thought about what awaited him. For perhaps the thousandth time, he mentally reviewed how things had gotten to where they were. Just like his father, he had allowed his consorts to slowly take over his life. It had started with his marriage to Marrisa. His mother had convinced his father of the need for him to start a family, and at the time, he wasn¡¯t in any position to argue. After all, he had grown up with Marrisa, and they got along well enough. As friends, they had occasionally found themselves in bed together. She came from a powerful family, and the political gains would be substantial. After several discussions, everyone agreed it was a good match. Yet, neither of them expected how much they would eventually come to love one another. Just two years later, Marrisa convinced him to take her best friend, Lydia, as his first consort. At the time, it was another purely political move, intended to silence some of his detractors, and shore up his position as one the most likely candidates for heir to the throne. More years passed, and while he was off adding to his reputation by fighting in the Highland campaigns, Lydia stayed home with Marrisa and the two of them acquired Carol and Sarah. By the time he returned, the two newcomers had already been formally accepted into his house, approved of by Marrisa and his mother. One hundred years later, he met Helen while leading the navy¡¯s campaign against the Orcish invasion fleet. And that naturally led to her bringing along the twins, Felicia and Merideth. Walking down the hallway, he nodded to himself. ¡®Yes, that¡¯s when it started to get out of hand. I never should have introduced Marrisa to Helen. After that, I gave up the high ground and became surrounded.¡¯ Ever since then, facets of his life had been slowly absorbed by the women in his life. His every choice was scrutinized, and decisions were made without his input. His women carved up responsibilities in order to help him run the kingdom. Every time one of them took over a responsibility, he had one less thing to deal with. At first, it was helpful, but as time went on, he realized that the only time he would be consulted was if there were a problem only he could deal with. Not to mention the fact that he couldn¡¯t remember the last time he was included in the decision to add a consort to their family. He was well aware of Lydia¡¯s efforts in expanding the harem¡¯s membership. Just 250 some years ago, he came home from a trip to find out that under Lydia¡¯s guidance, Helen had accepted an entire adventuring team into his harem. Granted, it was a great welcome party, but he barely knew those women. With as much time as they spent away from Hennings, he STILL barely knew them. Looking up, he saw that he had reached the end of the hallway. The wide doors loomed like a last line of defense, holding back the wrath of his harem. He couldn¡¯t help but chuckle to himself at the thought of how once again he had been called to task by his wife and their consorts. Despite how annoying they were sometimes, he loved them all dearly, even the ones he rarely saw. At 853 years old, he could appreciate the wisdom of his father. The man had once told him, ¡°You¡¯re a strong man, and because of that, you will most likely marry a woman who will challenge you. Keep in mind that if you do, from then on, whether you like it or not, she will choose who you surround yourself with. Do everything you can to make sure that the consorts she chooses for you are on your side. You may think you can pick who you want, but that isn¡¯t how marriage works. If you¡¯re not careful, you¡¯ll spend the rest of your life outnumbered, and behind enemy lines. Just look at me, I may be the king, but have you ever seen me decide what I get to eat for dinner if any of your mothers are around? Learn from my example, my son.¡± Realizing that in the end, he had turned out just like his father, he squared his shoulders and prepared for battle. Although the women on the other side of that door outnumbered him, he wouldn¡¯t shrink in fear. He may have lost some battles, but the war was as yet undecided. Throwing open the doors, he saw his consorts and his wife relaxing on the numerous couches. Their conversations paused, and all eyes turned to him, awaiting what he had to say for himself. He smiled widely, showing his affection for everyone in the room, and said, ¡°Ladies, as promised, I¡¯m here to lay to rest your worries. Gather round, and I¡¯ll tell you of the game with fate that I¡¯ve been playing.¡± Pouring himself a drink, he watched the women move the couches and chairs in order to encircle the middle of the room. As the whispers and guesses rang out, he took his position as the center of attention. After taking a sip of his wine to wet his throat, his strong voice filled the room. ¡°It started with an opportunity, provided by chance. A new piece was introduced, and with it¡­ came possibilities,¡± he said with a slight grin. The first ladies of Oglivarch sat mesmerized, waiting to hear what ridiculous plot their king had cooked up, and how it could have caused Lydia to have a meltdown in the middle of the throne room. His games were always interesting, and they couldn¡¯t wait to hear what their love had to say for himself. ----- Knowing that the entire room was waiting for Nero to state his demands, Victoria¡¯s heart raced in anticipation. She could only hope that the young man wouldn¡¯t gut House Blackwood. Or, at the very least, that she would still be alive to rebuild it over the coming years. Nero¡¯s voice was harsh as he succinctly outlined her position. ¡°If we allow the law to handle this, your house will be disbanded. All of Lord Blackwood¡¯s heirs, including you, will die. But I¡¯m not completely without mercy. Since you didn¡¯t know what your father was up to, and considering the fact that your brother tried to warn me, I think we can come to an agreement.¡± Victoria didn¡¯t respond, she just calmly met his stare. Rather than thank him, or offer meaningless platitudes, she patiently waited for his demands. Seeing that she wasn¡¯t going to say anything, Nero continued, ¡°I propose that your father pays for his crime with his life, and that you take over his position as house head. Furthermore, I approve of your support of your brother. The man tried to do the right thing, and should be rewarded for that. As for monetary compensation, a one-time payment of 5% seems a little insulting. As the only member of House Walker, my death would essentially be the ending of my house. You¡¯re offering to pay 5% of your house¡¯s yearly revenue to save your entire house, and avoid the lawful repercussions for trying to end mine.¡± Victoria¡¯s face didn¡¯t show any change of emotion. She calmly asked, ¡°And what do you think would be fair compensation? I have a sister around your age, would you like her as a consort to demonstrate our family¡¯s sincerity?¡± Nero¡¯s face flushed as he heard the entire room stifle their chuckles. Behind him, he could hear Nick not even bothering to hide his amusement. After coughing into his hand, he replied, ¡°No, that won¡¯t be necessary. House Walker is currently partnered with House Verena in a transportation business. What I would like is for ¡®preferred¡¯ contracts from your production facilities for wagons and repair centers.¡± Behind him, Vera corrected him over the link. ¡°Preferential Nero, they¡¯re called ¡®Preferential Contracts¡¯. Pay attention!¡± Looking over his shoulder with a grimace, he glared at Vera in annoyance. Quickly turning back, he continued, ¡°What I mean to say, is that I would like preferential contracts for your services. Say, for 50 years? It would financially tie our houses together and support the growth of your industry, while also aiding in House Walker¡¯s efforts. Perhaps over time, the ties between our families can grow, and any animosity could be forgotten.¡± Victoria thought through the proposal. Preferential contracts weren¡¯t uncommon, but they were usually given as awards for new branch houses starting out, or more commonly used as currency in consort contracts and marriage dowries. They were essentially guaranteed percentage based discounts on services. Although it would cut into her profits, if she could limit the terms it might not be that bad. However, 50 years of discounts would amount to a great deal of money, depending on how many wagons and repairs were ordered. She knew that House Walker had acquired Dorchen shipping after the recent Noble War. However, she also knew that as a new house, without any infrastructure, they would struggle to maintain their market share. Not to mention, Dorchen shipping was rather large to begin with. Most likely, this young lord brought in House Verena, whoever that was, to run things for him. Yet, even with their help, the shipping company would probably drastically reduce in size after the transfer. If all of her assumptions were true, then this seemed like a great deal. In fact, it seemed like too good a deal. She was obviously missing something. Over 50 years, the cost of maintaining the contracts might add up to more than her proposed 5%, but not by much. However, she felt there was more going on than she was aware of. Her mind raced as she tried to find the trap. Nero¡¯s voice interrupted her thoughts. ¡°The details of the contract would be worked out between you and my proxy. All I need from you is an agreement in front of the council, here and now, that you are willing to work with her in good faith. Otherwise, I¡¯m sure there is another Blackwood that would be happy to take up the position of house head. After all, it¡¯s entirely possible that you were culpable in this attempt on my life. It might be better to find someone more interested in positive relations with my house to take over House Blackwood,¡± he said with a grin. This tale has been unlawfully lifted from Royal Road; report any instances of this story if found elsewhere. Over the link, Nero asked Vera, ¡°You really think she¡¯ll agree to this? It¡¯s going to cost her a fortune in lost profits? She has proof that she didn¡¯t know about the assassination attempt, and her brother tried to warn me¡­ why won¡¯t she just let this go to trial?¡± Nero felt her amusement as she answered, ¡°It¡¯s not about who knew what. The fact that her house head was involved calls into question the right of succession. If he¡¯s found guilty, then a tribunal may find that the entire house is at fault. The branch houses may survive, but as the heir, she could very well be implicated despite her innocence. She needs this to disappear before her brothers and sisters find out. They would be more than happy to have her executed in order to take her spot as the new heir. In the end, she has no choice but to agree, if only to make sure that she maintains control of her house.¡± Nero could only shake his head in confusion. Inter-house politics and the law were way outside of his comfort zone. When he found out that Sergeant Blackwood left a warning inside his mission packet, he had worried that his payday would be ruined. Yet it seemed that things were still ''coming up Nero''. Victoria concluded that she didn¡¯t really have a choice. With a sigh, she resigned herself to the fact that she would have to spend the next few weeks eliminating her opposition, while doing her best to limit the scope of the preferential contract. Squaring her shoulders, she raised her chin and said, ¡°As the new Lord Blackwood, I would be more than happy to offer House Walker a preferential contract. While 50 years seems excessive, I¡¯ll agree to it in order to demonstrate my sincere wish to form a strong and lasting friendship with House Walker. I¡¯d also like to take this opportunity to formally apologize for my father¡¯s actions, and assure you that his death will not be held as a source of contention between our houses.¡± Smiling, Nero replied, ¡°That¡¯s great. I¡¯m looking forward to working with you. Or, better yet, I¡¯m looking forward to you working with my proxy. You can expect her to contact you soon. I¡¯m sure between the two of you, the pref¡­ the contract will be worked out. And for what it¡¯s worth, I¡¯m sorry about your father. But congrats on your promotion.¡± Before anyone could say anything else, Arch-mage Jennings sat up from the table he was leaning against and loudly interrupted, ¡°Alright, now that the matter of the Blackwoods is settled, let¡¯s return to dealing with the actual problem. We need to ensure that House Cosgrave is not held responsible for this fiasco. After all, the city¡¯s survival is at stake.¡± Victoria Blackwood¡¯s eyes widened comically, and she whipped her head around to stare at the arch-mage. ¡°What do you mean? What¡¯s wrong with the city? And why is House Cosgrave not going to be punished?¡± Annoyed with her questions, along with how long it took to deal with what he felt was, at best, a side issue, he replied, ¡°It¡¯s not important. Forget you heard anything. Just go home and wait for House Walker¡¯s proxy to contact you.¡± Before Victoria could say anything else, the arch-mage waved his hand, and she was forcibly teleported back to where he had found her. As she vanished in a golden ¡®pop¡¯, the entire room turned to stare at him. Jennings calmly returned their scutiny, with one eyebrow raised as if daring anyone to say anything. The silence was shattered by Lord Bennings, whose voice was uncharacteristically loud. ¡°Stop illegally teleporting people against their will! Every time you do that, I have to write a report and file it with the Tower of Law in Hennings.¡± Waving his hand as if he were dismissing the issue, he turned away from the red-faced director of the local Tower of Law and stared at Nero. ¡°If you won¡¯t agree to a marriage, then what do you want? What will it take for you to let this go?¡± he asked sternly. Nero wasn¡¯t expecting to be put directly on the spot. He was deep in his ¡®political¡¯ mode, and was expecting more double-speak and innuendo. Jennings¡¯ direct question completely threw him. Not knowing how to respond, he looked over his shoulder to Vera, and asked, ¡°Well? What do we want?¡± Scowling, she just stared at him and mentally said, ¡°I don¡¯t know. What do you want? You can ask for money, I guess. But you MUST make sure the children die. Otherwise, you will be dealing with more assassination attempts. I still think you should just marry her, move up on the ladder, take the tax breaks, and put this all behind you. In my opinion, you¡¯re overestimating the emotional responses from those involved. This is all just politics. They¡¯ll get over it. But if you are really unsure of how you want to proceed, why don¡¯t you ask them what they are willing to offer.¡± Grimacing, he turned away from her. As far as he was concerned, she was not helping. Looking across the room, he saw the city-lord sitting in her over-sized chair. She looked calm, patiently waiting to see if her house would be facing execution for her daughter¡¯s actions. Just judging by her face, the woman didn¡¯t seem to care one way or another. Nero knew that she was merely hiding her emotions, but it unnerved him nonetheless. Sighing, he met her eyes and asked, ¡°What do you think? Make me an offer.¡± Raising an eyebrow in surprise, she replied, ¡°I¡¯m willing to do whatever is necessary to ensure that my house survives this debacle. I¡¯d even be willing to take you as my husband. However, you seem to find that insufficient. I¡¯m not sure what more I can give you.¡± Nero shook his head in defeat. They just didn¡¯t understand. Raising his hands to his side, demonstrating his openness, he said, ¡°It¡¯s not that I find you undesirable, or that I don¡¯t want to move up the political ladder thing. I just don¡¯t want to get married to a woman with a harem. If I¡¯m going to be part of harem, I want it to be MY harem. Is that so hard to understand?¡± By the time he finished, his voice took on the tone of pleading. One of the lords off the side, Lord Voltan, nodded. His voice full of understanding, he said, ¡°I get it. You want to build your own house, make the name Walker ring out in the halls of power. There is nothing wrong with that. In fact, I, for one, find your enthusiasm admirable.¡± Nods of understanding and agreement went around the room. Nero glanced over at Nick, and he could see that the man was nearly biting his hand to hold in his laughter. Scowling at him, Nero turned back to the room. General Branson spoke up, ¡°Alright, how about this. We execute the heirs and let House Cosgrave start over. As for compensation, let¡¯s say 5% for 5 years. Throw in a contract of intent to support House Walker¡¯s growth for 10 years and we can all go back to trying to make sure Dorchester is still here for you all to fight over it.¡± Nero was about to object to the casual talk of execution when he heard Vera shout, ¡°Done. House Walker will agree to those terms. City-lord Cosgrave?¡± Stunned, Nero looked back and forth between the two women, and he saw the city-lord nod easily. She said, ¡°Agreed. I¡¯ll execute Deidre myself, and Derek will be dead by tomorrow night. That works out well, as we could really use the guards that are currently escorting him south.¡± Lord Bennings spoke up, ¡°Make sure the paperwork for the arbitration is filed by the end of day. Otherwise, the investigation will have to include the nobles. It will be much easier if the only ones involved are commoners.¡± Turning her head to look at the arch-mage, she asked, ¡°That mage you have in custody, is he a noble?¡± Arch-mage Jennings shrugged, and replied, ¡°Technically he is the 12th heir of House Trevan. I doubt they¡¯ll care if he disappears. I¡¯ll handle it by the end of the day. But, if something comes up, I¡¯ll contact you.¡± Nodding in response, Lord Bennings returned to her silent posture. As if there were a silent agreement that the meeting was over, all of the nobles stood up at the same time, leaving Lord Bennings along with the general and the city-lord as the only ones still seated. The city-lord addressed the lords, saying, ¡°Thank you all for coming. You can expect House Cosgrave to remember your service to Dorchester in this trying time. I look forward to leading you all once again.¡± The nobles all grumbled to themselves with frowns on their faces. After collecting their papers from their tables, they all headed for the door. Dutifully, their aides followed silently behind them, not saying a word. In less than two minutes, the entire tone of the room had changed, and the remaining occupants started chatting with each other about what they all had put off to deal with this situation. General Branson was speaking with his aides, while the city-lord and Lord Bennings started talking about some meeting concerning immigration that they had been forced to reschedule. Turning around, Nero saw that Vera was packing up her things with a slight smirk on her face, while Nick was chatting with Cathleen. Spinning around, he saw Jennings waving his hands in the air, as if he were interacting with a hologram that only he could see. Spinning once more, he looked around the room in complete shock. One minute, he was in the middle of a political minefield, doing his best to maximize his profits and out-maneuver his enemies. The next, everyone just reached an agreement, and called it a day. Completely stunned, his jaw was hanging open. His blank stare looked around the room, seeing everyone completely forgetting that they had just been in the midst of a complex issue. Unable to contain himself, he threw his hands up in exasperation and shouted, ¡°What the hell! Are we done? Did we win? Are you really going to kill your own kids? What¡¯s an ¡®intent contract¡¯? What the fuck is going on?¡± The entire room had stopped what they were doing, and everyone was staring at Nero. He looked around the room, panting with exertion after his outburst. Even the aides were frozen in shock. They looked at him like he had just started screaming in the middle of a wedding. Nero flinched as he felt a hand on his shoulder. Turning his head, he saw Nick standing there with a comforting smile on his face. Nero just looked up at him with eyes full of confusion. Gently turning Nero away from the room, Nick put his arm around Nero¡¯s shoulder and spoke in a soothing voice, ¡°It¡¯s OK now. The meeting is over. You did very well. Let¡¯s go home, and I¡¯ll explain what happened. We¡¯ll get you something nice to eat, and you can finally have a shower. How does that sound?¡± Nero let himself be led toward the doors, absently listening to what Nick was saying. Still confused, he tried shaking off his confusion, and whispered harshly, ¡°Eat a dick, Nick. What the hell just happened?¡± He really didn¡¯t appreciate Nick¡¯s condescending tone. As they walked, Nick chuckled and replied, ¡°You just got a free pass to open up whatever business you want, and get paid to do it. Your enemies are going to be executed. And, for the moment, no one is trying to kill you. Smile Nero, you¡¯ll have a good nights sleep before we have to return to the wilds.¡± Looking up at Nick who still had his arm around his shoulder, Nero numbly asked, ¡°Uh¡­ We¡¯re going back to the wilds? When did we decide that? Seriously Nick, what the hell just happened?¡± Nick¡¯s smile faltered, and he sighed. His voice was starting to show his annoyance as he said, ¡°Nero, just wait until we get home. I really need some sleep. We can talk about this later. For the time being, just pretend that everything is fine, and shut up.¡± Frowning, Nero let himself be led through the halls, as he mumbled to himself, ¡°Tell me to shut up¡­ YOU shut up. Crazy fucking savages. Trying to marry me off to some old woman. Executing people left and right. These people are fucking nuts. Maybe going back to the wilds isn¡¯t such a bad idea. At least the monsters out there make sense.¡± Nick shook his head in amusement, listening to Nero quietly rant about the local customs. Since he¡¯d met the young man, he¡¯d learned that the one thing Nero hated was when people other than him actually made sense. While Nero grumbled, they made their way through the halls, heading back to the Verana estate for some good food and Nero¡¯s first shower in a week. Chapter 114 - Im right, and proving me wrong isnt going to change that. Through their various interactions, Vera had learned that Nero was a little odd. According to her husband, Nick, the world Nero came from was very different, full of incomprehensible conflicts and wars. Usually, she found his unique perspective both useful and refreshing. However, she couldn¡¯t help but be frustrated at Nero¡¯s adamant refusal to get married. It made no sense. While hearing his rant, she opened a link-connection to Nick and asked, ¡°Why is he so against marriage? Does he prefer men? He does know that he doesn¡¯t have to actually have sex with her, right?¡± She felt Nick¡¯s amusement over the link as he replied, ¡°No, dear. Based on how he acted in the showers, I¡¯m relatively sure he likes women. I think there is some kind of cultural connotation to marriage that he is actively ignoring. I¡¯m sure he knows what the word means, and what we mean by it, but he is incapable of admitting it. It also might be a religious thing, he¡¯s been weird about religion before. Or it could be something else altogether. I think he once mentioned a ¡®war of the sexes¡¯. That might have something to do with it.¡± Nodding in understanding, she let the meeting proceed as her thoughts raced. She needed to figure out what Nero wanted. If political power wasn¡¯t his goal, what was? Listening intently, she tried to interpret his ranting. Yet, no matter how much he talked, she couldn¡¯t figure him out. Feeling helpless, she prodded him about what he actually was expecting to get out of this. His response left her speechless. He said, ¡°Once I figure out how to reduce my enemies to zero, then we can figure out what we can get. I was planning on letting you handle everything, but I didn¡¯t know you¡¯d try and marry me off to someone old enough to be my grandmother, or maybe older. I don¡¯t know how old the city-lord is. Anyway, just think up what we can ask for. Concentrate on money and power. Money is always good, but power usually comes with responsibility. Be careful not to get me a job, because I assure you, I won¡¯t do it.¡± As far as she could tell, Nero wasn¡¯t making any sense. He actually went through all this to get the most powerful people in Dorchester in a room, just so he could threaten them, all while having no idea as to what he actually wanted. Was he really just making it up as he goes? He wanted his enemies eliminated, but didn¡¯t want them executed, because it ¡®gave him the willies¡¯. Worse yet, he wants money, but no responsibility. Does he not know that they usually go hand in hand? Looking up at the pacing young man, she watched him try and intimidate the Blackwood heir into saving her own life. Glancing at the faces of the nobles, she realized they were all just as confused and annoyed at the situation as she was. She turned to look at Nick, and her anger flared at seeing him trying not to laugh. Realizing that it might be best to work around Nero, she opened up a link-connection to the city-lord. While keeping her tone as serious as possible, she asked, ¡°Do you have any objections to just paying Nero off?¡± City-lord Cosgrave looked over at her with a curious expression, and replied, ¡°Of course not.¡± Reading between the lines, she asked, ¡°Is that really all he wants? He could shoot to the top of the ladder. Any governmental position in Dorchester could be his. He does know that he¡¯s only a minor noble? Is marrying me that repugnant?¡± Vera sighed, and replied, ¡°Nicholas thinks it¡¯s a cultural thing. I believe it might be best if we frame this issue in a way that he has no choice but to go along with it. Before we continue, let me bring in a few more people.¡± She added a link-connection to General Branson along with Nick. While Nero continued to speak with the Blackwood heir, she used her private connection to hold a side-meeting. She asked, ¡°So, we need to offer Lord Walker an alternative to marriage, otherwise I¡¯m afraid we¡¯re at an impasse. I think the other nobles are just waiting for an excuse to tear down House Cosgrave. Looking at them, it¡¯s obvious they couldn¡¯t care less about what happens to House Blackwood. All they really want is House Cosgrave gone, and an opportunity for one of their houses to take over. But I, for one, would prefer Dorchester to remain intact.¡± The general said, ¡°I don¡¯t understand the problem. Why is he being so unreasonable?¡± Nick¡¯s amused voice rang out in their heads. ¡°It¡¯s not that he¡¯s being unreasonable. You just don¡¯t understand where he is coming from. I think you¡¯re all over-thinking this. Just offer to pay him a lot of money, kill the misbehaving heirs so he doesn¡¯t feel responsible for their deaths, then send him back into the wilds to return to what he¡¯s good at. If you keep trying to treat him like a politician, he¡¯s going to snap and start flinging spells everywhere.¡± The city-lord¡¯s concern was evident as she cautiously asked, ¡°He wouldn¡¯t really try and fight people who out-leveled him by 40 levels, would he? In the middle of the keep? Is he insane? We just redid the floors, do you have any idea how much Botarian marble costs!?!¡± Chuckling, Nick replied, ¡°He¡¯s not insane. He just has a very different concept of what makes someone powerful. Everyone in this room could kill him in a straight up fight. That being said, 3 moderately strong hunters were defeated by him in the wilds just a few days ago after they wiped out the rest of his party in an ambush. To be honest, I don¡¯t really know what he¡¯s capable of. So, once again, I¡¯d recommend just giving him money and sending him on his way. Don¡¯t fight a battle on his terms. I¡¯m not saying you¡¯ll lose, but I guarantee you won¡¯t win. And for what it¡¯s worth, the floors are beautiful.¡± While Vera was amused and the city-lord was pensive, the general was livid. ¡°Did you really just threaten us?¡± he growled. Vera snorted and replied, ¡°Calm down. My dear husband wasn¡¯t being serious, he was just illustrating Nero¡¯s penchant for overreacting. Yet, I get the feeling that if we really tried to marry him off, we¡¯d be seeing exactly what the young man is capable of. Keeping that in mind, I agree with Nicholas. What are you willing to pay in order to have him forget about all of this?¡± The city-lord quickly replied, ¡°How about instead of the marriage, we just give him the standard price for a dowry? 5% of House Cosgrave¡¯s profits, and a contract supporting the interests of House Walker for 5 years. That¡¯s the standard dowry awarded to a house which provides a marriage candidate to a sitting city-lord. If he doesn¡¯t want power, I¡¯m not going to force it on him.¡± Immediately, Vera countered, ¡°5% for 5 years, and make the contract of intent for 10 years.¡± The general interrupted, ¡°And then he returns to the elites to complete his term? Do you think he¡¯ll just forget about the military¡¯s part in all this?¡± His tone was full of disbelief. Nick replied with some humor, ¡°Nero never blamed the military. He¡¯s just using it as leverage. Despite appearances, I¡¯m positive he¡¯s embarrassed about not having read the sergeant¡¯s warning. I¡¯m telling you all. Just. Pay. Him. Then send him out to go kill things with magic. You¡¯re really making this more complicated than it needs to be.¡± The city-lord said with some reticence, ¡°All right. I¡¯ll agree to those terms.¡± A chorus of ¡°Agreed¡± rang out across the link. Understanding that getting Nero on board would require some guile, Vera said, ¡°In order for this to work, I think it¡¯s best to let Nero ask for what you¡¯re offering. I¡¯ll get him to ask the question, you just have to make it sound as if you are compromising.¡± This novel is published on a different platform. Support the original author by finding the official source. Nick, who knew Nero best, added, ¡°Don¡¯t make a big deal out of it. When he asks what you¡¯re willing to give, just state your terms. Vera accepts, then we can all move on. I promise you, as long as you pay him, he¡¯ll be fine with it. He absolutely does not want the city-seat or any semblance of power.¡± Despite their skepticism, the general and the city-lord agreed to the plan. One of Vera¡¯s strengths was multitasking. She had no trouble dealing with multiple conversations at the same time. So while she helped Nero with his fleecing of the Blackwood heir, she worked to ensure that House Walker¡¯s victory would be complete. Vera smiled at her brilliant maneuver, then sent a link-connection request to the arch-mage. She saw him glance at her with a curious look on his face as he accepted the link. Vera¡¯s tone was light. ¡°Arch-mage Jennings, I believe I know how we can come to an agreement,¡± she said slyly. Interested, he replied, ¡°I¡¯m listening.¡± Her smile grew wide as she said, ¡°Here is what I need you to do¡­.¡± ----- Nero had just returned from his luxurious shower, and had joined Nick and Vera at their dinner table. Plates of assorted foods were displayed as though they were having a feast, and Nero chuckled at Nick¡¯s eating habits. While Nero joined Nick in attempting to decimate the food supply, he listened to Vera describe what had happened. Hearing Vera¡¯s explanation of events, Nero couldn¡¯t help but pout. In his mind, whether it was true or not, he didn¡¯t mind being wrong, or having people do things for him, or being looked down on in general. But he absolutely loathed not knowing what was going on around him. It was embarrassing. With his mouth half full of food, he asked, ¡°So you went behind my back and negotiated a settlement without my input?¡± Calmly sipping some wine, she nodded, then replied easily, ¡°Yes. Yes, I did.¡± Nero¡¯s emotions were fluctuating between embarrassed, offended, and confused. Almost whining, he asked, ¡°But, why? I wanted to put you in charge of the negotiations from the beginning. What was the point? Doesn¡¯t going behind my back make me look weak or something?¡± Nick chuckled as he merrily ate his meal, shoving large bites of mashed vegetables and meat into his face. Vera gave Nick a disapproving scowl, then returned her attention to Nero. Gently, she tried to explain to Nero what he had missed. ¡°First, you¡¯re too young and inexperienced to be considered weak in the political arena. If anything, the fact that you finally started to look foolish works in your favor. People had been -¡± Sitting up straight, Nero harshly interrupted, ¡°Foolish! Who said I was foolish? Is it because I didn¡¯t want to marry that woman? Or is this still about that stupid mission packet¡­ How was I supposed to know that was in there? This is bullshit!¡± Vera held up a hand to silence him, and said, ¡°Calm down and just listen for a minute.¡± Seeing Nero¡¯s shoulders slump and his mouth snap shut, she continued, ¡°Up until now, you¡¯ve been doing things that from one point of view, looked very impressive. You accurately predicted a noble war, dealt with assassins while making tons of money, maneuvered your position from commoner all the way up to a new noble in less than a month. That kind of success breeds resentment, and caution. They worried that you were a political genius with substantial combat potential. Because of that, everyone miscalculated what you wanted.¡± His mouth was full, but the confusion was evident on his face. Unable to speak clearly, he mumbled, ¡°What did they think I wanted?¡± Smiling, she said, ¡°They thought you wanted the city. Everyone thought that you would use this opportunity to take over Dorchester.¡± Nick held up a hand, and helpfully added, ¡°Not me! I knew Nero wouldn¡¯t want the responsibility.¡± After tossing Nick a scowl, Nero returned to his conversation with Vera and asked, ¡°Why the hell did they think I wanted the city? Wait, could I have gotten the city?¡± Shaking her head, she replied, ¡°No, probably not.¡± Then a curious thought occurred to her, and she added, ¡°Perhaps if the arch-mage supported your claim. As the aggrieved party, House Walker could have bid to join the noble war for the vacant city-seat after House Cosgrave was removed. Depending on how it played out, it¡¯s possible you could have taken over. With you as city-lord, the other council houses wouldn¡¯t have to put up with a political enemy in charge of the city. In fact, that¡¯s probably what would have happened if you refused to arbitrate. But that¡¯s all conjecture. You could have just as easily taken power by agreeing to the marriage. When you started saying that you wouldn¡¯t marry her, no one knew what to think. As the city-lord¡¯s husband, you and she would share power. You should thank Nicholas for his efforts to diagnose your cultural issues.¡± Nero snorted and said, ¡°I don¡¯t have ¡®cultural issues¡¯, you¡¯re all just crazy.¡± Nick redirected the conversation by asking, ¡°Hey Nero, why do you have a problem with executions. You don¡¯t seem to have a problem with killing people, so why were you so hesitant to kill the heirs? I posited a cultural issue, but was there some plan or something that I was missing?¡± Nero looked at his friend with annoyance. ¡°I don¡¯t ¡®kill¡¯ people. I fight people who happen to die after I win. Execution is just¡­ wrong¡­ I guess,¡± he said lamely. Nick and Vera exchanged a look, then Nick asked, ¡°Ok. Why?¡± Nero rolled his shoulders as if he were uncomfortable with the topic. ¡°Do we really have to get into this? Does it matter? I don¡¯t want to insult your beliefs,¡± he said with some hesitance. Vera replied, ¡°I think we should at least address some of your beliefs. I need to understand what you want if I¡¯m going to effectively act as your proxy. A lot of your actions don¡¯t make any sense to me. You didn¡¯t have a problem having former Lord Blackwood executed, or killing the assassin, or the hunters, but you seemed uncomfortable having the heirs killed. Then there was the fact that you seem perfectly fine with harems, but don¡¯t want to be in one. According to Nick, you are uncomfortable being around naked women, but are fine physically fighting them. I just want to understand how you think.¡± Setting down his silverware, Nero leaned back in his chair and wiped his mouth with his napkin. Taking several deep breaths, he resigned himself to some straight talk. Looking at the two people in this world he was closest to, he said, ¡°Since I¡¯ve come here, I¡¯ve tried to come to terms with the fact that this world has its own way of doing things. But, you have to understand, I don¡¯t think like you guys. There are things that have moral implications that you all just seem to ignore. ¡°Like executing people. I get that bad people should be executed for the good of society. But I was taught that killing people is wrong. That is unless you kill them while they are trying to kill you, in that case it¡¯s celebrated. But if they are still alive after the fight, then you¡¯re supposed to put them in jail. And if they are just kids, then you¡¯re supposed to send them to a rehabilitation center, so they can learn to no longer be assholes. Then, when they grow up, and still act like assholes, you don¡¯t have to feel bad about sending them to jail. Those two heirs may be close to 20 years old, but they seemed like kids to me. It just felt weird to think that someone would just chop off their heads or something. A good portion of people back in my old world thought capital punishment of any kind was immoral.¡± Vera and Nick were paying close attention to what he was saying, and patiently waited for him to continue. Seeing that they weren¡¯t going to respond, he said, ¡°Look, I don¡¯t know what to tell you. A lot of things I have in my head are contradictory. Woman should be treated equal to men, so fighting them is OK. But, it¡¯s a man¡¯s duty to protect women, so it¡¯s rude to stare at them, or let other people stare at them. And they should be treated with respect. In actuality, woman need to be treated better than men, otherwise how will they know they¡¯re being respected. Also, nudity is generally associated with sex, and seeing a woman naked is a violation of their person. However, woman are hot, so if I do look, I¡¯m supposed to appreciate them while trying to not look. Otherwise, they would feel unattractive, which is also rude. So, you have to treat them well, but not too well, and find them attractive while not objectifying them.¡± Nick and Vera shared confused looks. Apparently the complicated sexual dynamics of Nero¡¯s old world was a little too much for them. Ignoring them, Nero continued his explanation of his world-view. ¡°Then you have the harem issue. Marriage is supposed to be between a man and a woman, or at least only between two people, depending on who you¡¯re talking to. Some people are OK with two people of the same sex being married, but not everyone is alright with that. But that¡¯s a separate issue,¡± he said, then waved away that topic. Returning to his point, he said, ¡°But marriage is supposed to be about the love between two people, everyone agrees on that. So having a harem is usually bad, despite the fact that every man wants one¡­ in theory. Every guy knows that dealing with one woman is usually more than he can handle on a daily basis, so that is more of a theoretical fantasy than anything else. But being part of someone elses harem would be seen as a bad thing, because then that person owns you. Or at least that¡¯s what a harem usually means. That is, unless you are talking about polygamous relationships. Like ¡®swinging¡¯ and sex clubs. The only way to have multiple partners in a ¡®moral¡¯ way is if you marry them all, like Mormons. Though, that is frowned upon by most people, I think. But that gets into religion¡­ let¡¯s not talk about that.¡± Nero had been watching his friends faces, and he could see that they were becoming more and more confused the longer he spoke. It was uncomfortable, because he was trying to explain multiple points of view that he didn¡¯t necessarily agree with. Huffing in exhaustion, he said, ¡°I guess what it comes down to is, I don¡¯t really have strong beliefs on anything. I just don¡¯t want to offend anybody.¡± Vera and Nick shared equally confused expressions. Nick asked hesitantly, ¡°Who do you think you¡¯re going to offend?¡± Nero took a minute to think through what Nick just said. The man was right. There were no groups here that could cancel him for opening a door for a female, or not opening a door. No one would care if he didn¡¯t express outrage at the thought of criminals being executed. There was no political action committee that would stand in the way of him having a harem. ¡®Huh, I have no idea how to feel about that,¡¯ he thought to himself. Vera and Nick waited patiently for Nero to work through his thoughts. They could tell that the young man was having trouble accepting the fact that the culture here was very different than the one he had left. After a while, Nick''s voice interrupted Nero¡¯s thoughts. His tone was full of support as he said, ¡°As long as you follow the laws here, you can feel free to let go of whatever cultural values you think are illogical. In the long run, it might be good for you to look at how our laws were decided. Everything in Oglivarch has been rigorously logic-tested and it¡¯s worked for thousands of years.¡± Absently nodding, Nero replied, ¡°Sure, but as my childhood Sunday school teacher used to say, ¡®Just because you are correct, doesn¡¯t mean you¡¯re right¡¯. I think I¡¯ll just continue to feel however I want, and judge you all for the immoral crap that you do. That way I can do it too, while still feeling justified in my moral superiority.¡± Vera and Nick exchanged shocked, and offended looks, then immediately burst into laughter. Patting Nero on the back, Nick said, ¡°That¡¯s fine with us. Now let¡¯s get some sleep, we¡¯re heading back into the wilds tomorrow.¡± Nero¡¯s eyes widened as he replied, ¡°Seriously? We¡¯re not even going to take a few days to decompress? This is what I¡¯m talking about¡­ You¡¯re all savages.¡± Vera stood up, gently placing her napkin on the table. With a gentle smile she said, ¡°Yes we are Lord Walker. It might be a good idea to remember that when you open that mouth of yours.¡± Turning away, she walked off after having the last word. Nero turned to Nick, with worry in his voice, he asked, ¡°You don¡¯t think she took the whole ¡®savages¡¯ thing personally do you?¡± Waving his hand lazily, Nick replied, ¡°Nah, but that doesn¡¯t mean she isn¡¯t going to make you pay for saying it. Here, have the last of this desert¡­ it¡¯s really good.¡± Nero shrugged, deciding not to worry about Vera¡¯s eminent reprisal, and dug into what looked like some kind of blue pie. This was going to be the last time he had anything good to eat for a while, and it wasn¡¯t worth ruining his meal over. Chapter 115 - Low expectations help things turn out better than expected. The king¡¯s harem reconvened late that night, well after their husband had gone to bed. Hidden in a private chamber, they gathered to discuss how they felt about the recent revelation. As usual, the meeting was led by the ¡®King¡¯s firsts¡¯, which was the clandestine name the harem used to refer to the leaders of the different power blocs. Long ago, the current queen had learned from her mother-in-law about the responsibilities of the harem, and how the kingdom relied on their covert efforts. It had taken many years to create the powerful group of sisters she had come to rely on. Queen Marrisa Newling-Oglivarch was their overall leader, and the different groups all reported to her. She was also the highest ranking Populator in the kingdom. Therefore, she was personally in charge of the 3 other Populators in the harem. Lydia Collins ran the Household, while also leading the spy network. She had 23 women under her, and each of them had their individual sources and networks. Recruited from families across Oglivarch, nothing happened without them learning about it. However, their main focus was noble politics along with collating rumors and ensuring House Oglivarch remains in power. Helen Wendel was in charge of the adventurers and problem solvers. Her 51 women worked in teams to scout dangerous areas, and ensure that the kingdom wasn¡¯t endangered by essence events they were unprepared for. Her network had connections across the kingdom through the Hunter¡¯s Lodges. Merideth Tellani ran the economic concerns. With 33 women united in purpose, she controlled the economics of the entire kingdom, while ensuring the financial dominance of House Oglivarch. Finally, Carol Morrow was the leader of the law bloc. Although one of the smaller power blocs, with only 7 women, they monitored the laws of the kingdom. Their responsibility was maintaining the oversight of the nobles and private interests, and ensuring the stability of the kingdom. Regardless of where they came from, each woman here was dedicated to House Oglivarch and the sisterhood they had joined. Without their leadership, they knew Oglivarch would fall to ruin. Yet today, they were gathered for another purpose all together. Their love had been playing a private game, and manipulating events to destabilize the Tower of Fate. Each of them knew the power that the Tower held, and they needed to figure out how they were going to support their king in his efforts. Lydia smoothed her dress as she stood up from the couch. Looking around the incredibly large room, she said, ¡°Alright, let¡¯s first sum up what we¡¯ve learned. You all know how annoying he can be when telling a story, so we¡¯ll strip down what he said and filter the relevant events into a timeline. Despite his efforts to obfuscate his actions, we¡¯ve been able to determine a great deal of what he actually DID.¡± While speaking, she made her way to the middle of the room which was kept open so those who were speaking could be seen by everyone in attendance. Pacing back and forth, Lydia went over what they¡¯d learned from their King and their investigations. ¡°Approximately a month ago, an anomalous soul took over a freshly awakened body near Dorchester, which is located in the southern strates. As the soul came from outside this plane, it affected all of the calculations made by the matrix of fate. Seeing as that rendered the Tower of Fate blind, our husband decided to take advantage of the situation. ¡°First, we think he was responsible for dispatching an army unit on the road to collect the anomaly. We¡¯ve confirmed that he made contact with their unit through an intermediary, but we¡¯re not sure if he sent them or just took advantage of their identities. Our conjecture is that it was either because of the sergeant, who was related to the city-lord through his father, or the captain, who was a former-monster hunter without any noble relations. We all know how unlikely it was to find one of those. ¡°Then, he maneuvered the head of the Tower of Magic, Arch-mage Jennings into going to Dorchester in person. Which resulted in the death of the local court-mage, removing an ally from a local lord who was planning an overthrow of the current city-lord. ¡°We know that his efforts somehow changed the fate of the city. The anticipated noble war resulted in a defeat for the local lord, and a victory for the current city-lord. Marrisa was there under the guise of her Populator persona, and personally witnessed the actions of the anomalous soul who was able to use the conflict for his own gain. Due to the nature of the noble war, that soul ended up being raised to the position of a new noble. ¡°If you listened to his story, you¡¯d notice that our king failed to mention that he had someone contact the keep after the soul¡¯s ascension to nobility. After looking at the records, Marrisa and I are relatively sure agents working on his behalf were responsible for pushing the city-lord¡¯s heir into attempting an assassination attempt against the anomalous soul. As a new noble, he should have been under our protection. That failed attempt ended up humiliating both House Cranston, which we¡¯d been having trouble dealing with, and removing the heir from the line of succession. It also allowed us to finally remove several outdated, and useless, laws. ¡°Which brings us to the first clue we found on our own, and the reason we learned of his plans. Marrisa discovered that he sent a case of dwarven wine to one of the city-lord¡¯s consorts. He labeled it a gift from a local lord of House Bevin, apparently to explain away its provenance. The consort in question was responsible for placating the remaining heir after the banishment of her brother. According to the consort, due to the influence of the liquor, instead of dissuading her from her vengeance, he mistakenly slept with the girl. Probably using the same predictive techniques which created the matrix of fate, our king manipulated events knowing what would happen. How that insufferable man managed to get two people to hook up from across the damned kingdom, I have no idea¡­ but he did. ¡°Because of their liaison, rather than stop the girl, the consort decided to aid her. Her goal was to complete what her brother started, and kill the new noble. With the consorts help, she almost succeeded. ¡°Unknown to him, the consort¡¯s efforts were aided by a mage from Hennings, Mage-adept Catherine Newbanks. Our king convinced her to go to Dorchester, and once there, he used her to covertly smooth out any problems with the attempt. She did this right under the nose of Arch-mage Jennings, who now believes that the Tower of Fate had a hand in the assassination attempt. ¡°Which brings us to the end of our king¡¯s story, and what we¡¯ve just learned. When he ended the story, he spoke of the anomalous soul taking over Dorchester, and saving it from the upcoming beast tides. According to him, the new lord would refuse to bend to the whims of the council, and seize power with the help of the local general and Arch-mage Jennings. The city-lord¡¯s house would be purged, along with the consorts. A deal would be struck with the council to avoid a succession war, and the new noble would become the new city-lord. ¡°However, that apparently wasn¡¯t how the arbitration went. We just got word that the new noble accepted some monetary compensation and the city-lord remains in power. The anomalous soul did NOT take over Dorchester, and it seems that our king may have¡­ miscalculated,¡± she finished her long summation with her voice full of irritation. Silence filled the room, and every woman in attendance shifted uncomfortably in their seats. This was an unprecedented event. Many times the king had plotted, and it had almost always played out according to his script. It had been hundreds of years since their king had been so¡­ mistaken. Lydia calmly returned to her seat, and Queen Marrisa took her place in the center of the room. With a firm voice, she said, ¡°So, we have to decide if we¡¯re going to get involved, and what this means for his plans involving the Tower of Fate. But more importantly, we need to decide who is going to go wake him up and tell him that his game didn¡¯t play out the way he thought it would?¡± Every woman in the room exchanged uncomfortable looks with the their fellow harem members. The queen could only put her hands on her hips, and frown in annoyance at the display. As usual, it looked like she was going to have to be the one to deliver the bad news. ¡®Well, at least I¡¯m good at telling him he¡¯s wrong¡­ I¡¯ve spent the last 800 years practicing my technique,¡¯ she thought with some amusement. ----- Nero sighed as he luxuriated in the feeling of being in a real bed again. Before his time in the wilds, the closest he had ever come to spending time in the wilderness was summer camp. With a smile, he recalled how nice the cabins were, they even had air conditioning. Now that he finally had some time to himself, his thoughts started returning to their regularly scheduled programming. His muscles relaxed as he laid in bed, his hands behind his head, staring at the ceiling. Without prompting, the events of the past few days started playing like a movie reel in his head. As he thought about what happened at the keep, he couldn¡¯t help but shiver. He¡¯d seen medieval television shows, and read about what it was like when his world still had nobles, but it was still weird to see it happen in real life. Lords killing their kids for their transgressions, plots and scandals involving assassination attempts and paying off witnesses. When it came down to it, whether he admitted it or not, he was paid off to cover up a pretty serious crime, and he was completely alright with that. He had really changed. The moment the thought occurred to him, he realized it¡¯d been forever since he bothered to check his identity. As if he were recognizing an ignored injury, he realized how full his soul felt. During the past few days, he must have stocked up a ton of experience, and he could practically feel it trying to dissipate the excess as fast as possible. Surprised, he opened up his identity.
Name Nero Walker Level 12
Race Human Growth 100%
Tier 1 Condition 100%
Age 14 Center 100%
Body 3 Mind 5
Soul 2 Confluence 10
Stars 0 Pillars 1 / 1
Body If you stumble upon this narrative on Amazon, be aware that it has been stolen from Royal Road. Please report it. 3
Base Operative Level Stress
Presence 15 24 16.8
Durability 18 28.8 19.8
Recovery 34 54.4 23.2
Speed 21 33.6 8.3
Adaptability 41 65.6 13.1
Power 20 32 9.6
Mind 5
Base Operative Level Stress
Weight 32 64 9.6
Control 39 78 12.3
Field 36 72 21.4
Precision 55 110 19.1
Endurance 65 130 15.1
Focus 61 122 17.3
Soul 2
Base Operative Level Stress
Size 29 40.6 2.3
Density 101 141.4 1.4
Intensity 76 106.4 1.9
Pressure 27 37.8 1.8
Harmony 24 33.6 21.7
Adaptability 270 378 1.1
Nero stared at his status sheet, a little confused. Although he wasn¡¯t super clear on how level stress worked, he was relatively sure that it was supposed to be much lower than this. ¡®Didn¡¯t Nick or Jennings say that it was hard to get it above 10? I¡¯m positive that they said that what happened before was unusual. They said it was a one-time thing, right?¡¯ he thought to himself. Grimacing, he struggled to remember the conversation that he had only half listened to. ¡®At some point, I¡¯m REALLY going to have to figure this stuff out,¡¯ he told himself firmly. Rather than dwell on it, he tried to recall his plan. He was positive that he had a plan about where to allocate his stars. ¡®It definitely wasn¡¯t ¡®mind¡¯, that¡¯s already at 5. ¡®Body¡¯, maybe?¡¯ he wondered. Annoyed at the problem, he decided to get a second opinion. Using his link, which was sitting on the bedside table, he tried opening a connection to Nick. After a few seconds, the connection opened and Nero felt Nick¡¯s annoyance come through loud and clear. ¡°What¡¯s the matter? Someone kidnap you again?¡± asked Nick with some anger at being interrupted during whatever he was doing. Nero quickly replied, ¡°No smart-ass, I just have a question about where I should spend my star.¡± Feeling Nick¡¯s mind grind to a halt brought a smile to Nero¡¯s face. He had forgotten how fun it was to exasperate the man. ¡°You¡¯re leveling again? How did you¡­ Nevermind! I don¡¯t care. Nero, I haven¡¯t seen my wife in a while, so I¡¯d appreciate it if you would just go to sleep. I¡¯ll talk to you in the morning. And don¡¯t you dare ping Vera!¡± he nearly shouted, then slammed the connection closed, hard enough to rattle Nero¡¯s brain. For a moment, Nero was offended, then the realization of what he probably just interrupted caused him to suffer a full body shiver. Although Nick and Vera weren¡¯t his parents, thinking of them naked was just as traumatizing. After shoving it in a mental drawer and locking it, Nero returned to his identity issues. Remembering how much it sucked when he let his ¡®mind¡¯ stat level stress get too high, he wasn¡¯t looking forward to going through that again. Gritting his teeth, he closed his eyes and tried to fall into his mental space. Finding his mental path was easier than he remembered, and he immediately appeared in a cluttered realm full of floating clouds filled with memories. Groaning in annoyance, he started with the first memory he could find. The sight of Rose coming down from the tree after they tracked her through the wilds played out in front of him. He remembered how it felt when he stared at her tight backside, and he shifted his feet uncomfortably. He hadn¡¯t realized how closely he had payed attention to that. Moving on, he fell into a trance going through the past few days. Some memories were less detailed, but each one seemed to add some weight to his existence as he processed them. He recalled the pain of the arrows piercing his chest. The smell of blood when he stood over his friend¡¯s dead bodies. The feeling of pulling their souls back from the other side. Images of the fighting through the wilds flashed in succession. The spells he cast rang like bells in his head, and he could feel his center pulsing with each memory. His confusion and awkwardness at the confrontation with the nobles. His embarrassment when he realized he should have known about the ambush. The repressed guilt at what his friends had gone through. He faced it all, internalizing as much as he could. Nero didn¡¯t know how long it took, but soon the path in front of him was clear. The cobblestone path was once again beneath his feet, and seemed more solid than ever. The woods still surrounded him, and the shafts of sunlight forced their way through the trees. He felt lighter than ever, yet grounded at the same time. Everything was clearer. He felt like he had just gotten back from vacation, rested and ready for a new challenge. He didn¡¯t know it, but the essence in the room was swirling. The sheets on the bed were whipping around the room, and the walls were almost vibrating in conjunction with his heartbeat. Opening his eyes, he felt himself panting. ¡®If that was a level, what¡¯s going to happen when I use a star,¡¯ he wondered?
Name Nero Walker Level 13
Race Human Growth 68%
Tier 1 Condition 100%
Age 14 Center 100%
Body 3 Mind 5
Soul 2 Confluence 10
Stars 1 Pillars 1 / 1
Looking at his new level, he realized he was already almost at level 14. He couldn¡¯t help but wonder how much extra experience he wasted by putting off the level for as long as he did. And how was he able to stockpile so much extra experience? Shouldn¡¯t that have been impossible? Rather than dwell on the unknowable, he decided to get it over with and pushed his star into his ¡®body¡¯ stat. Like a flood of acid into his veins, he felt the infusion spread out from his gut. Reaching the bottom of his toes to the hair follicles on his head, every square inch of his body hummed with power. Nero felt like he was at the starting line of a race, primed to move. It was the feeling of playing shortstop, waiting for a batter to hit, knowing that you were ready to move in any direction. He felt anchored to his body, in tune with his physical form. Seconds passed, and he tension faded. The aftermath left him panting in exhaustion. With a groan, he forced himself to sit up from the bed. Looking around, he saw the sheets and comforter splayed out on the floor. The table¡¯s lamp had been knocked over, along with the chair. The room looked like his mom had tossed it looking for his hidden stash of pot. With a herculean effort, he got up from the bed and made his way to the bathroom. The exertion had left him grimy, and he desperately needed another shower. Stumbling through the room, his updated ¡®body¡¯ stat hovered in front of his brain, and he marveled at the changes.
Body 4
Base Operative Level Stress
Presence 22 39.6 0
Durability 26 46.8 0
Recovery 47 84.6 0
Speed 25 45 0
Adaptability 47 84.6 0
Power 24 43.2 0
¡®Holy Crap¡­ That can¡¯t be normal,¡¯ he thought in confusion. Pulling his attention away from the stat panel, he stared at himself in the mirror. Rubbing his hand through his messy hair, he scowled at his anime-character-like reflection. His pale blue eyes and silver hair, along with his thin, toned frame made him look like some kind of emo, angst-ridden, vampire. His annoyance with his physical appearance caused him to forget all about his stats, and he decided to just take a shower and go to bed. Tomorrow morning he¡¯d be returning to the wilds, fulfilling his obligation to the army, and taking one step closer to completing his noble trials so he could finally enjoy his well-earned reward. Eventually, he¡¯d be able to just sit back, study magic in his personal tower, sip some drinks with umbrellas, and earn his 20%. Just like the infamous Hanz Gruber in ¡®Die Hard¡¯. While he fine-tuned the temperature of the shower, he had a thought. ¡®Is my team reuniting? It will be nice to see Rose again.¡¯ But then his face paled as he realized Wesker will probably be there too. ¡®Oh well, I doubt he¡¯s still pissed. It¡¯s been like a full day. I¡¯m sure he¡¯s over it by now,¡¯ he reassured himself. Before long, Nero was back in bed. He hadn¡¯t bothered to fix the room, mostly because it hadn¡¯t occurred to him. Once again staring at the ceiling with a smile, he let his thoughts wander. ¡®I wonder what Vera¡¯s going to serve for breakfast. I hope it¡¯s not pancakes. I nearly stuffed myself with the ones from the keep. How cool would it be if they had the equivalent of pop-tarts here?¡¯ he thought to himself. Soon enough, Nero was asleep, dreaming of facing monsters with magic spells and being able to summon snacks out of the ether. Tomorrow he¡¯d return to the wilds, and his new life of adventure. Chapter 116 - A new day. When the sun eventually comes up. Nero¡¯s morning started before it was even bright and early. Apparently there was some kind intercom system in his room, so he was treated to Vera¡¯s voice startling him awake. ¡°Nero, you have 30 minutes until breakfast is finished. Make sure you don¡¯t leave anything in the guest room.¡± His head shot up from the pillow like a gopher coming out of his hole. Blearily, he looked around the room, trying to find out where the hell that voice had come from. Huffing in annoyance, he realized that there wasn¡¯t a snooze alarm to abuse. Stumbling to his feet, he grumbled, ¡°They have links here, so who in their right mind would bother installing an intercom? Crazy woman probably has security cameras too. Magic scrying and telepathy wouldn¡¯t be enough for the illustrious Vera Salvatore¡­ No, that¡¯s Vera freaking VERENA-Salvatore. Damn woman probably charged my account for using her guest room.¡± Nero looked like a zombie as he made his way to the bathroom, all the while ranting under his breath. Unbeknownst to him, Vera and her husband, Nick, were at the kitchen table having their morning coffee and tea, while a small hologram hovered over the table showing a struggling Nero plod toward the bathroom. Nick, sipping his coffee, nearly did a spit-take when he heard Nero¡¯s accusation. The hologram disappeared quickly, and he turned to see Vera gritting her teeth in annoyance. With a smile, he asked, ¡°So, were you really going to charge him for using the guest room?¡± Rolling her shoulders uncomfortably, she replied tersely, ¡°Of course not. Not that it wouldn¡¯t be unreasonable to expect compensation for the head of the house I¡¯m serving to pay for his lodging.¡± She met Nick¡¯s grin with a glare, and decided to change the subject. ¡°Have you been in contact with the rest of your team?¡± she asked. Being the kind and wonderful husband that he is, he accepted the change in topic without complaint, and replied, ¡°Yes. It seems last night General Branson debriefed Ms. Vikander and Sergeant Wesker. Both are fine with staying on the team. According to the general, there are no hard feelings, but I doubt they will forget Nero¡¯s games. We will be meeting them at one of the Gate 15 side gates before heading back into the wilds. Wesker has the coordinates for the base camp the elites set up. We¡¯re to meet them in 2 hours.¡± Nodding along, Vera asked, ¡°And Cathleen?¡± Nick shrugged, and replied, ¡°No issues. I talked to her this morning. You won¡¯t be surprised to hear that she couldn¡¯t care less about what happened. She asked where we were planning on meeting, then closed the connection before I could find out anything else.¡± With a grin, Vera said, ¡°Sounds like Cathleen. We should just be grateful that she agreed to keep an eye on Nero, I know how much she hates politics. After having to stand by while we dealt with the leadership council, I thought she might want to distance herself.¡± Nick tapped his finger on the table in thought, then replied, ¡°I wasn¡¯t going to say anything, but now that I had access to my lab again, I looked up something she said during training.¡± Interested, Vera set down her tea and gave Nick her full attention. Coughing lightly to clear his throat, Nick sat up in his chair and took up his lecture with enthusiasm. ¡°As you know, Cathleen hails from one of the more famous Northern Clans, the Averetts. They have a rich martial tradition and consistently send out their children to all corners of Oglivarch. If there is a conflict, there will be an Averett fighting in it. Because of that, a great deal of information is available concerning some of the North¡¯s more unique traditions.¡± Vera didn¡¯t want Nick stray to far away from his point, and asked, ¡°And this has to do with Nero, how?¡± Smiling as though he expected the question, he replied, ¡°Because Cathleen mentioned that she was training Nero in the manner of their ¡®Warblades¡¯. In principle, the idea is that the trainee is constantly faced with life and death battles, struggling to survive a moment longer, maintain composure under the most dire circumstances, to live their life as though they were a bared blade ready for anything. From what I read, there is a lot of symbolism involved in the tradition, but it comes down to putting their recruits through incredibly harsh training and seeing if they¡¯ll break. I think that¡¯s why she doesn¡¯t care about the politics.¡± Confused, Vera didn¡¯t understand what one thing had to do with the other. ¡°I think I¡¯m going to need you to walk me through how those two things are connected,¡± she said. Nick nodded easily. ¡°One of the papers I read discussed how northerners see their warblades. They consider them heroes, or clan treasures. The failure rate is spectacular, as most recruits fold under the pressure. Not many people are capable of dealing with the constant threat of death. Instead of improving, they start accepting their failures, and embracing their weaknesses. So when someone is found who can stand up to the punishment, they are revered. And I personally watched as Nero fought with broken bones, missing limbs, and all manner of injuries, while never backing down. I¡¯m not surprised that Cathleen finds him interesting. In fact, I¡¯d say that would be an understatement,¡± he finished with a chuckle. The narrative has been taken without permission. Report any sightings. Vera leaned back in her chair, working through what she had just heard. She had known that training at the elite camp would be intense, but she hadn¡¯t realized how brutal it turned out to be. Vera wasn¡¯t exactly sure how she should feel about that. After all, Nero was still a young man, it didn¡¯t seem right to put him through such abuse. He was the head of a house, and not just any house. House Walker was a financial powerhouse, with zero real infrastructure. As proxy, she was able to tie all of the financial incentives, contracts, and tax breaks to aid in growing her own house. Without Nero, her road to domination would be much more difficult. As much as she liked the young man, she was too pragmatic to ignore how much she still needed him. ¡®He¡¯s not just a tool, he¡¯s a friend,¡¯ she reminded herself with some anger at her thoughts. If she was going to be unhappy with the training Nero was going through, she wanted to be unhappy with it for the right reasons. Nick, however, found the entire situation interesting from an intellectual and sociological standpoint. How often would he, as a southerner, have a chance to see a Northern Clansman train one of their elites? It was an opportunity to study a field he hadn¡¯t really focused on. Normally, he studied physical and ethereal phenomena, not cultural relativism. Nero, to him, was a wonderful subject at the center of several different cultural influences. Just being around him was a very intellectually enriching experience. While Nick and Vera were thinking about Nero, the young man in question walked into the room with an annoyed look on his face. Before they could greet him, their faces fell as he started talking. ¡°Why the hell are we up so early? It¡¯s not even dawn. Didn¡¯t you two spend most of last night reminding each why it¡¯s worth putting up with each other? How in the hell are you both so awake?¡± he asked without caring about decorum. With a cold look on her face, Vera replied, ¡°Our sex life is fine, Nero. We¡¯re more than capable of compartmentalizing our bedroom escapades and still dealing with the rest of our lives.¡± Remembering that people in this world didn¡¯t realize how embarrassing sex was supposed to be, he dropped it. There was no fun poking people who didn¡¯t realize you were screwing with them. ¡°Whatever,¡± he said, then took a seat at the table. After pouring himself some coffee, he grabbed something that resembled a breakfast Danish and started eating. With his mouth full of delicious bread, he mumbled, ¡°So, what¡¯s the plan?¡± Nick chose to be the one to answer the young man, as he could tell Vera was already ignoring Nero and was instead doing something on her link. ¡°We¡¯re meeting the rest of the team, then heading back into the wilds. By tomorrow afternoon we should reach the base camp that the rest of the elites set up. From there we will be deployed throughout the regions dealing with issues including monster clusters, spawn-points, proto-dungeons, and whatever else needs doing,¡± he said. Curious, Nero asked, ¡°No problems with the military? We''re not being reassigned or anything?¡± Shaking his head, Nick replied, ¡°Nope. Same team. Everything is forgotten. It was all covered by the arbitration paperwork Vera handled.¡± Shooting the woman in question a side-eye, Nero said, ¡°Must have been one hell of an arbitration agreement to cover everything that sucked about the past week. How are the powers-that-be handling the people that knew about the dirty nobles, and incompetent military?¡± Chuckling, Nick replied, ¡°No idea. Not my department. I¡¯m staying out of it.¡± Without bothering to look away from her invisible holograms, Vera said, ¡°From what I¡¯ve gathered, they¡¯re putting it all on the former Lord Blackwood. He was turned in by his disgraced son, the young man gave up his future as a scion to take up a military position and serve the interests of the people. Sergeant Blackwood is now a hero, and House Blackwood is rallying around their new identity. Victoria Blackwood has already dueled two of her sisters for control of the family, and has been appointed the new Lord Blackwood. ¡°As for House Cosgrave, it seems Deidre Cosgrave was executed for her relationship with her mother¡¯s consort, the former Lord Blackwood. The official account was that there was some worry Deidre was trying to take over the house in order to side with her trouble-making brother. I expect word to reach us soon of Derek¡¯s untimely death at the hands of bandits, beasts, or something similar. It should all be cleared up by dinner time.¡± Stunned, Nero was frozen with his pastry halfway to his mouth. ¡°Um¡­ I guess everyone had a busy night. Didn¡¯t this all just happen yesterday? How long was I asleep?¡± he asked. With a smirk, Vera replied, ¡°It¡¯s easy to deal with issues if you are decisive enough. Being a noble means that you have to make decisions quickly, and seize the initiative. The game is a lot like life, and if you forget that, you¡¯re not likely to win at either.¡± Nero took a second to think through what she just said, then replied, ¡°I think you all take this whole ¡®game¡¯ thing too seriously. Just because you have an interface, doesn¡¯t mean you¡¯re game characters. Life is complicated, and trying to plan everything out is just asking for trouble. What happens if someone leaks the real story? What if the arbitration agreement gets out? Someone could blow this whole thing wide open, and then they¡¯re all screwed.¡± Nick and Vera shared confused looks. Vera leaned forward in her seat and asked, ¡°You do know that the real story is published alongside the official statement, right?¡± Confused, Nero eloquently replied, ¡°Huh?¡± Nick chuckled and said, ¡°The arbitration agreement is referenced in any news story concerning what happened. Everyone will know what really happened. They will also know that for the common good, an agreement was reached to ignore parts of what happened so that everyone can get on with their lives. There is no conspiracy, or lie, which anyone needs to fear coming out. That¡¯s the entire point of an arbitration agreement. All parties involved agreed on how to handle it, and no one, including the government, has the right to an opinion. The Tower of Law oversaw the agreement, so no one was coerced, and the agreement was ratified. The people have no say in it, and I doubt they¡¯d care if they even bothered to look through the finer details.¡± Stunned, Nero lamely asked, ¡°So, no one is going to be protesting, or calling for an investigation into collusion or whatever?¡± Vera replied easily, ¡°Nero, some nobles trying to kill each other isn¡¯t exactly shocking. As long as the law is followed, no one will bat an eye. They have bigger things to worry about than some new noble and his problems. Granted, your story is interesting, but more as a tale worthy for the bar or the diner, not for one of the oversight committees.¡± There was so much to unpack there, Nero was forced to lean back in his chair and work through the concept of people having better things to do than complain about the government. Not to mention the fact that the government was completely up front about their cover-up, so it wasn¡¯t even a cover-up at all. It was all legal, and they just killed the troublemakers, then moved on with business as usual, while choosing to forget about the details. There was only one word for what Nero was feeling¡­ it was ¡®flabbergasted¡¯. With a rueful chuckle, Nero muttered, ¡°A government that executes their troublemakers, then tells the people about it. Freaking savages.¡± Chapter 117 - The social contract of friendship. Despite King Oliver Oglivarch¡¯s attempts to reign in their conversation, the talk was lively at the breakfast table. His wife and two of their consorts were unable to stop themselves from remarking on his recent miscalculation. And for the record, that¡¯s all it was, a minor miscalculation. He didn¡¯t think the concern they were showing was in any way warranted. With a slight frown, he listened to his consort, Lydia, expound on what she had found when she used her connections to acquire a recording of the Dorchester¡¯s leadership council meeting from the day before. ¡°In a way, Oliver was right. The opportunity was there for the new noble, yet, he didn¡¯t take it. From the council members¡¯ body language and tone, we can infer what happened. Everyone expected the new noble to make a play for the city-seat. They were all ready to give up the current city-lord, Lord Heleema Cosgrave, and let her house die on the vine. Her only option was to agree to a marriage. Which, in fact, she did,¡± Lydia said, her voice laced with worry. Queen Marrisa Newling-Oglivarch set down her coffee and asked, ¡°But I still don¡¯t understand why the new noble¡¯s proxy was pushing for the marriage at all. If they had just let the city-lord¡¯s house fall, they could have made a deal to avoid the resulting noble war for succession. The general and the arch-mage would have most likely supported the new lord¡¯s house as a replacement. I doubt the other council houses would have minded a weak house taking the city-seat. It¡¯s not like the new lord would stay there very long. Anyone could see that he would be forced out of Dorchester by level restrictions and politics. In fact, isn¡¯t there a summons from the Hennings¡¯ Tower of Law that he will have to deal with?¡± Helen scoffed, then tossed her breakfast bagel back on her plate, fed up with the way the talk was going. ¡°None of that matters. Whatever the new noble¡¯s motivations were, we have to deal with the current situation. He didn¡¯t take the city-seat, and now he is back in the wilds. Oliver¡¯s projections are no longer in play. We need to improve our intelligence capabilities and map out how this affects us.¡± King Oliver couldn¡¯t help himself, and started chuckling. No matter what he said, they would always worry about him and his plans. It was partially why he tended to be so secretive. The three women all turned to him with a glare, and the queen asked, ¡°Something you¡¯d like to add, my king?¡± Amused, he said, ¡°I understand why you are all worried. It must be difficult seeing me make an incorrect prediction. But you all need to remember, the game I¡¯m playing has almost nothing to do with the small city of Dorchester. I just used the new noble¡¯s unique background in order to further my plans. Whether or not HE acts according to plans, is immaterial to the larger game. After all, the fact that he is so unpredictable is the only reason he was any use to me from the start. Neither I, nor the matrix, have the necessary data to accurately predict his moves. His history is unknown, along with his cultural beliefs. Despite what I told the fateweavers, it will be some time before we can accurately predict his actions.¡± Hesitant to believe that everything was still in her love¡¯s control, Lydia asked, ¡°So, your plans regarding the Tower of Fate are still in play? I thought you said Dorchester¡¯s altered fate was central to what you were planning.¡± As the queen and Helen nodded in support of the question, the king replied, ¡°Yes, Dorchester¡¯s fate being altered is important. Many prominent people used the expected fall of Dorchester in their own plots. The fact that Dorchester will survive the density shift will alter the region¡¯s power ladder, and the surrounding cities will have to adjust accordingly. When I predicted the new noble would take over, that was simply what I thought would happen. The only way to convey to you the plan, was to tell you all a story. And that story needed an ending.¡± Helen glared at the king and asked, ¡°So, when you said you¡¯d tell us the plan, how much of what you said was accurate?¡± Shrugging easily, he replied, ¡°About 70%. There is plenty of data on the other major players in the area, and that¡¯s more than enough for me to get a general idea of how things will go. The matrix doesn¡¯t have my imagination, and without more data, I¡¯m capable of adapting my plans faster than the Tower of Fate. By using Dorchester as the battlefield, I forced the matrix to meet me in a field of my choosing, one which it isn¡¯t able to predict.¡± Uncertain if she followed that line of thought, the queen tried to redirect the conversation. ¡°If the details don¡¯t matter, then what does? Is there something we need to do to keep your plan in play?¡± she asked. With a smile, the king replied, ¡°My loves, as long as Dorchester survives the density shift, everything will work out. Just make sure we don¡¯t force that new noble, Lord Walker, to come to Hennings just yet. The reward for the exploit he found can wait. For the time being, he¡¯s right where he should be, in Dorchester. His particular brand of chaos will keep Arch-mage Jennings there and continue to confound the fate-weavers. While their eyes are on him and Dorchester, I can use their inaccurate prophecies to my benefit. After all, who will support fateweavers if they can¡¯t weave fate?¡± Lydia asked, ¡°But it¡¯s not like you¡¯re any better at predicting what that young man will do.¡± Leaning back in his chair with a smile, King Oliver took a sip of his coffee, and replied, ¡°No, but then again, I¡¯m not claiming to be a prophet, now am I?¡± ----- Walking through the busy streets, Nero fiddled with the communication orb Vera had given him. When he had seen the one the assassin had been carrying, he hadn¡¯t really thought about examining it. Now that he had one of his own, the damn thing was confusing the hell out him. Although visually it was a pitch black orb about the size of a tennis ball, his psychic senses were contradicting his eyes. In the ethereal plane, the little orb looked like the love child of a snow-globe and a ball of yarn. He could plainly see an invisible tiny string heading off toward the orb¡¯s partner, while the orb¡¯s insides swirled around with a confusing jumble of sensations. It was like looking through a window, and getting a glimpse of a completely different environment. ¡®Is the inside ¡®here¡¯, the outside ¡®there¡¯?¡± he wondered. Pausing his examination, he looked up to see Nick calmly trailblazing their way through the crowds. After taking a second to debate with himself whether or not he wanted to risk setting off a lecture, Nero decided to ask, ¡°Hey Nick, this orb thing only works as a conduit to its partner, right? But since it isn¡¯t made of those essence crystals, how does it transmit thoughts like a link?¡± Without turning around, Nick responded cheerily, ¡°It¡¯s actually quite interesting! You see, the orbs are created out of enchanted molten glass, which acts as a containment device for a shared space. The glass needs to be from a uniform pool, so the similarities will serve as the framework for the enchantment. Although difficult, the goal is to contain the same space within both orbs. The result is a shared spatial pocket where two minds can meet and communicate. It¡¯s an ingenious way to sidestep the mind-distance issue associated with essence wave disruption. Arch-mage Vikram found that the longer a mind traveled along an essence trail, the stronger the wave oscillation disrup-¡± Nero stared at the orb, rolling it around in his hands. Barely listening past the part about shared space, Nero replied with an oh-so-intelligent, ¡°Uh-huh.¡± Not bothering to let Nick continue talking, he asked, ¡°So if it¡¯s not made of essence crystals or semi-solid essence, and it IS made of actual glass, then why can¡¯t I put it in my personal space? It¡¯s not like it should dissipate, or break apart, right?¡± The author''s tale has been misappropriated; report any instances of this story on Amazon. Nick stumbled a little, slowing his pace, while looking over his shoulder with some surprise. He hadn¡¯t expected Nero to actually ask such a good question. With a little smirk of pride, Nick said, ¡°Because if you were to put one of the orbs in your personal space, it would sever the spatial connection between it and its companion orb. Remember, technically, a personal space is a separate plane. And if you recall your lessons on¡­ never-mind, you didn¡¯t have lessons on planar identity. I keep forgetting that your education is substantially lower than your skill. The point is, don¡¯t put it in your personal space or you¡¯ll break it.¡± Proud of his simplification, yet annoyed at Nero¡¯s talent, Nick resumed his pace through the crowd. In response to Nick¡¯s obvious ¡®dumbing-down¡¯ of his lecture, Nero felt a little offended. However, since he didn¡¯t have a good comeback, he kept his mouth shut. While Nick led them through the streets full of citizens going about their morning, Nero returned to the examination of his new toy. The string connecting the orbs was so thin, he could barely perceive it. While spinning the orb around, he came to the conclusion that the string didn¡¯t REALLY exist. It was only an impression made through the ether, like a psychic representation of a concept. After about five minutes of consideration, Nero thought of another question. Looking up at Nick¡¯s back, he almost said something, but stopped himself just in time. ¡®He¡¯s just going to act all smart and superior¡­ is it really worth it?¡¯ he asked himself. As the minutes passed, the question nagged at him until he finally couldn¡¯t take it. ¡°Hey Nick, this is probably a stupid question, but I¡¯m gonna ask it anyway. Because if you are going to make me carry this damned thing, and don¡¯t have a good answer, I¡¯m going to be so pissed.¡± he said with a growl. Huffing in annoyance, Nero asked his question, ¡°If the space between the two orbs is connected, and sending ONE into a personal space will break the connection, then what would happen if I infused both of them with my center, then sent them BOTH into my personal space? As long as they are both linked through the concept of my center, then wouldn¡¯t it not matter if I only took one out? That way, I could carry one in my personal space, and they would still work as long as the companion orb carries my center residue. I could leave it with Vera, and my center should last at least a month, I think. I do have a pretty strong center. So, tell me oh-brilliant-one, what exactly am I missing?¡± Nick slowed as Nero kept talking, until he finally came to a stop in the middle of the wide pedestrian walkway. He turned around slowly, his eyes failing to focus on anything as he thought about what Nero was saying. When Nero finished speaking, Nick¡¯s face had taken on an uncomfortable grimace. Nero stopped along side of him, wondering if the question was dumb enough to finally break the old man. Like a fish, Nick¡¯s mouth kept opening then closing, as if he were unable to speak. Eventually, he muttered, ¡°I have no idea if that would work. I can¡¯t believe I hadn¡¯t thought of that... creating a sympathetic bond to stabilize the spatial tunnel.¡± Nero let Nick work through the question, surprised at how distressed the old man seemed to be. Nick crossed his arms as if he were hugging himself, then raised one hand to roughly rub his chin. His vacant eyes were starting to make Nero feel a little uncomfortable. Nero could barely hear what the old man was saying. ¡°Time and time again, that little shit comes up with such unique ideas. Are we all idiots? It¡¯s inconceivable that someone doesn¡¯t already know about this. Is it just me? Am I an idiot? Why can¡¯t I come up with these notions?¡± Nick asked himself, his voice a frenzied whisper. Now, normally Nero would be happy about giving his friend a mental breakdown. After all, screwing with your friends was how you showed that you cared. However, there are always no-fly zones with humor. You never target a buddy¡¯s insecurities. Like making fun of a fat friend¡¯s weight, or attacking a friend in their weak-spot. It was clear to Nero that after weeks of having to watch over him, Nick had started to question his own intelligence. Apparently, having watched Nero making a fool of himself in front of the leadership council wasn¡¯t enough to convince Nick of Nero¡¯s stupidity. Nero felt his stomach sink as he watched Nick¡¯s world fall apart. ¡®This is like that time I asked Gary how much his date was charging him. How was I supposed to know that the son-of-a-bitch hired an escort to be his date for senior prom? Poor bastard couldn¡¯t look any of us in the eye for rest of the night,¡¯ he said to himself. Nero had always regretted how that friendship had ended. Luckily, by the time his freshman year of college concluded, he had repressed the character-defining moment like any good American male should. His thoughts raced, and after only a few seconds of watching Nick spiral, Nero decided to fall back on an old reliable strategy for dealing with his ex when she was hellbent on interrupting his game night¡­ claim ignorance, and ask for help. There is nothing in the world better for someone spiraling than to give them control over something. Adopting a confused tone, Nero asked, ¡°So, Nick, is it a good idea? Can we design a test, like an experiment or something for when we get back from the wilds? You¡¯re a scientist, right?¡± Nick eyes gained some clarity, and he met Nero¡¯s eyes. Doing his best to look like an eager young student, Nero smiled up at his closest friend. If he had to waste an afternoon or two in a lab, doing whatever the hell Nick does, then so be it. ¡®I¡¯ve been breaking this poor guys perception of how people are supposed to do magic for like a month now. Poor guy needs a win,¡¯ Nero told himself. Nick nodded woodenly, and said, ¡°Yeah, I¡¯m a scientist. We can set up some isolated spatial pockets with transient soul signatures. Co-terminal spaces might be just what we need to isolate the planar distance required to sever a mind-connection.¡± Nero didn¡¯t have any idea what Nick was talking about, but nodded along anyway. ¡°Sure, that sounds great. While we¡¯re still in the city, you could also look up if anyone has done any similar work. After all, you probably never really used these things since you were always in the city. This isn¡¯t really your specialty after all. Being unfamiliar with the research is to be expected, right?¡± he asked. Nick started to smile, and nodded happily. ¡°You''re right. I haven¡¯t used a communication orb in years. You know, they¡¯re really old technology.¡± Turning on his heel, Nick resumed his walk while he continued talking, ¡°The only people who use these things are people without access to a thought-hub... and maybe criminals... but it¡¯s an interesting idea regardless. When we get back from our excursion in the wilds, I¡¯ll take you to my lab and show you how to create a temporary spatial pocket. Actually, the idea for controlled transient spatial pockets has an interesting -¡± he said, while regaining his enthusiasm. Nero felt Nick patting his shoulder, and fought the urge to shrug it off. Despite how much he enjoyed causing Nick grief, it was nice to see him returning to his old self. Nero hadn¡¯t realized how much the past few weeks must have been weighing on the old man. The guy was a scientist, a nerd. But since being forced by Vera to join the elites, he¡¯d been training to be a warrior, fighting monsters, and the poor guy even died a few times. The man needed to get in touch with his inner-nerd again. Letting Nick lecture him while they walked was the least Nero could do. It wasn¡¯t as if he actually had to pay attention. Nero¡¯s mind wandered as he ignored his friend, and he considered what waited for them at the gate. He really wasn¡¯t looking forward to dealing with Sergeant Wesker. Recalling the sergeant¡¯s face when Nero had questioned the man¡¯s allegiance, he couldn¡¯t help but grimace. At least he¡¯d see Rose. Although she was probably still pissed at him too. Nero nodded along to Nick¡¯s lecture, and did his best not to worry about it. After all, if there was one thing Nero was good at, it was ignoring a problem until he absolutely had to deal with it. ¡®Note to self: T-shirt idea ¨C Inner Peace is knowing about a problem, but not caring enough to do anything about it,¡¯ he said to himself with a smile. As they continued toward their rendezvous with their team, walking through the bustling city, Nero couldn¡¯t help but smile while listening to Nick¡¯s lecture on¡­ something. Chapter 118 - A real reunion. Rose Vikander was not a happy hunter. She had agreed to spy on the new noble for the general, but she hadn¡¯t signed up for all of this political intrigue. The little lord¡¯s words were replaying in her head despite how hard she tried to repress them. ¡®Are you using me? Or am I using you? Layers upon layers, my dear Rose. Like I said, misinformation.¡¯ Currently she was with Sergeant Wesker at one of the side gates, waiting for the rest of their team to show up. Rose wasn¡¯t looking forward to the reunion. It wasn¡¯t just the grumpy sergeant standing next to her, or the likely argument the man would instigate when he saw the little lord. It was the fact that the general had reacted exactly how the little lord said he would. She recalled the calm look on the general¡¯s face as he listened to them recount everything that had occurred in the wilds. The assassination attempt, Lord Walker¡¯s surprising magical competence, his combat abilities¡­ everything. She even went out of her way to detail Nero¡¯s analysis of the general and the military, and how he expected the general to respond. Without letting her worries deter her, she relayed the conversation she had had with the young man, stressing how little trust the young lord had for the military and the general specifically. Instead of getting angry, or denying his knowledge of the assassination plot, the general had just nodded in thought. Seeing the general¡¯s muted reaction to the accusations, she couldn¡¯t help but wonder if the military HAD actually been involved in the plot. Even now, she couldn¡¯t stop herself from giving Wesker the side-eye. Even though she didn¡¯t want to believe it, there WAS the possibility that the sergeant had known about the plot, and was only angry because someone had tried to kill him to cover up the military¡¯s involvement. She hated the feeling of not knowing what was going on. But now, she had her orders, and she¡¯d be going back into the wilds with a team led by a sergeant of dubious character. Her only companions would be a scheming young lord and his retinue who didn¡¯t trust her in the least. It was contrary to everything she had been taught. She¡¯d be heading into the wilds without backup, putting her life in the hands of people she couldn¡¯t rely on. The pit in her stomach refused to go away. Leaning against the wall, she watched the citizens of Dorchester going about their day. Small groups were chatting, smiling at each other while enjoying their morning. Shops were opening, stalls were being rolled out, and a sense of unity pervaded the courtyard. Even when she had been in the wilds, isolated and on her own, she had never felt so alone. Yes, Rose Vikander was not a happy hunter. ----- Nero eventually put the communication orb in the magic satchel he¡¯d gotten from Jennings, doing his best to forget about it. There was no point in studying how it worked right now, as the last thing he wanted was to be distracted by stray thoughts concerning enchanting while being surrounded by monsters in a magic-forest. But before he got to enjoy the nightmare of the wilds, he¡¯d have to deal with Rose and Wesker, neither of which were going to be happy to see him. Even though he expected the general to have kept their team together, it was still somewhat annoying to have the upcoming drama hanging over his head. When he and Nick finally turned the corner and approached the open area in front of the side gate, Nero was as ready as he was ever going to be. He could see Wesker and Rose standing off to the side of the gate, clearly ignoring each other. ¡®I guess their talk with the general went as well as I expected it would,¡¯ he thought to himself with a smile. Waving his hand in greeting, Nero sped up in order to be the one to initiate the conversation. Seizing the initiative in a conversation was important, as it would put him in charge of the tone. If he gets to act cordial first, then any grief they give him would only make them look petty. As he closed in on the duo, he felt a psychic signature appear on his left out of nowhere. Suffering a jump-scare, Nero yelped in a manner he wasn¡¯t entirely proud of. Feeling his heart race, he looked over to see a smirking Cathleen looking down at him. She was calmly walking alongside them, using a tall spear as a walking stick. With a growl, Nero nearly shouted, ¡°What the hell woman! How in the hell do you do that!?!¡± Cathleen didn¡¯t bother to match his volume, and simply replied, ¡°You¡¯re getting too reliant on your psychic field. It¡¯s a common problem with young mages. There are many ways to hide in the ether, and your enemies will not refrain from using your ignorance against you. Learn to be ¡®more¡¯, little lord, or you will find yourself in a battle you are unprepared for.¡± He could feel Nick grinning on his other side, but he had a great deal of practice ignoring the old man. Glaring at the warrior-woman, Nero replied, ¡°You know, when you talk like that, it makes you sound old. Instead of talking in riddles and being all¡­ ¡®mystic warrior¡¯¡­ you could just say, ¡®hey, having a good morning?¡¯ Then we could have a nice chat, and you could walk me through how someone could fool my psychic senses, and then maybe give me some tips on what to watch out for. You don¡¯t have to scare me half-to-death, then say some ¡®deep¡¯ nonsense in order for me to listen to you.¡± While Cathleen was just returning Nero¡¯s glare with a smirk, Nick interrupted their staring contest by throwing in his two-valens, ¡°Nero, the art of getting a point across without being overly verbose is an important skill. ¡®A person who speaks little has a lot to say. After all, they spend most of their time listening¡¯,¡± he said as if he was quoting some great truth. Nero slowly turned his head away from Cathleen in order to focus his glare on Nick. ¡°Don¡¯t you start with that crap! You love being long-winded. In fact, even what you just said was a bit wordy. I think people who talk like that are just trying to sound smart. But there is a difference between being clever and getting your point across. When you speak, you should do it in a way that the person you¡¯re talking to understands what you are getting at, otherwise, why open your mouth at all. Saying a few clever words that can mean anything is just as useless as wasting ten minutes and having no one understand what you¡¯re talking about,¡± he said with some heat in his voice. By the time Nero finished with his min-rant, the group had reached Sergeant Wesker and Rose. Shaking off his annoyance with his companions, Nero greeted the two with a smile and said, ¡°Hey guys. How did your meeting with the military go? Did you get to speak with the general?¡± Nero did his best to alleviate any awkwardness and stave off the confrontation by keeping his tone light. Rose glanced at Wesker and she could see the man was about to say something rude, so she preempted him by replying, ¡°Greetings Lord Walker. Yes, we spoke with the general. He saw no reason to break up our team. After all, we at least have some experience fighting as a unit by now. But for the record, I¡¯d like to say that I¡¯m looking forward to fighting alongside you once again.¡± Doing her best to sound like a respectful young lady, Rose once again showed the team a new face. Sergeant Wesker turned his head to stare at Rose with some surprise. He wondered how the young woman could be so shameless. He was in the room with the woman when she told the general exactly what she thought of the ¡®little lord¡¯. In fact, her exact words were, ¡°Lord Walker is a ruthless man. He can lie to your face, plan your death, all while smiling as if he were your best friend. Don¡¯t underestimate him general, he is not as simple as he wants you to believe. And after seeing him fight, I¡¯d not believe someone killed him even if they showed me his body. A reassignment for the sergeant and me is probably a good idea, because I¡¯m not sure Lord Walker will allow us to return with him again.¡± If you discover this narrative on Amazon, be aware that it has been stolen. Please report the violation. Despite guessing that Rose was, once again, full of shit, Nero maintained his smile when he replied, ¡°I¡¯m glad to have you back. After hearing about the investigation by the military and the leadership council, I feel like I should apologize for my suspicions. Both of you are trustworthy people, and deserve the benefit of the doubt. I know you will continue to report on me to the general, but I want you both to know that I have nothing to hide. My trust in both of you is absolute, and I feel much safer heading into the wilds knowing that you will be there to have my back.¡± Nero wasn¡¯t nearly as good a liar as Rose, and pretty much everyone could tell that he was talking out of his ass. Nevertheless, they all exchanged smiles and agreed to work together once again. Soon enough, they were on their way through the side-gate and heading back towards the wilds. Although he was even more quiet than Nero remembered, Sergeant Wesker took up the lead and acted as the guide. By mid-morning, the companions, now reunited, were standing in front of the forest, doing a last minute check to make sure they were ready to brave Dorchester¡¯s eastern wilds. While they stood in a circle checking each others straps and equipment, Sergeant Wesker asked, ¡°So, Lord Walker, did you finally get a chance to read over the mission packet?¡± Nero¡¯s hands froze as he was tightening the support strap on Nick¡¯s backpack. ¡®God dammit,¡¯ he swore in his head. He had leveled last night, and he hadn¡¯t been thinking about the stupid packet. Even though he¡¯d known he was going back into the wilds, he just hadn¡¯t thought of it. ¡®Why in the hell do I keep forgetting to read the damn thing?¡¯ he chided himself. If this were just last week, Nero would have probably replied with something snarky and then insulted the man. Yet, Nero had grown a lot in the past few days, so instead he replied cheerily, ¡°I glanced at it sarge. However, I was too busy leveling last night to think about it. It¡¯s probably been a while for you, but if you remember, leveling is based on experience. After getting one over on the leadership of Dorchester, and once again foiling the plots of my enemies while increasing my holding at their expense, I needed to spend some time refining those experiences. But thankfully I have you here, and I¡¯m sure you¡¯ll take time out of your busy schedule to remind me of what I missed while you lead us into our next ambush.¡± Hearing himself speak, Nero came to the unfortunate conclusion that he hadn¡¯t grown as much as he thought he had. Everyone paused what they were doing and stared at Nero in various shades of surprise. Even Cathleen raised an eyebrow at Nero¡¯s cutting rebuke. After only a second or two, they returned to what they were doing. Sergeant Wesker didn¡¯t say anything, he just turned red while harshly yanking on his bootstraps. However, Nero heard Rose mutter, ¡°Damn, that was brutal.¡± He couldn¡¯t stop his smile from growing just a little bit. When everyone was finally ready, they took their places in formation, returning to the positions they had adopted after some trial and error. The sergeant took the lead, Nero and Cathleen watched the flanks, while Nick and Rose brought up the rear. While Nero was sarcastically thinking about how the oh-so-important ¡®mission packet¡¯ had an obsolete formation listed, he felt Rose approaching from his left. Turning to look at her, he gave her a quizzical tilt of his head and asked, ¡°What¡¯s up?¡± Waving her hands, she pulled out a large shield from her personal space, then started panting as if she were out of breath. Leaning on the shield, she muttered, ¡°Gods, how the hell do you make that look so easy?¡± Surprised at the shield, Nero didn¡¯t know what to say. ¡®Why is she out of breath?¡¯ he wondered. The ever helpful Nick saw Nero¡¯s confusion and offered, ¡°Nero, that shield probably filled her entire personal space. It takes a great deal of effort for lower levels to manipulate their center like that. I¡¯m actually a little surprised she managed to create a personal space. Well done!¡± Rose, having caught her breath, stood up a little straighter at Nick¡¯s words. ¡°I¡¯ve been working on it for a few years. Hunters need to have an emergency supply of food and other support items when entering the wilds. The earlier you start building a personal space, the better. My skills at essence manipulation may not be at the level of a mage, but they aren¡¯t non-existent. I¡¯ve learned a few tricks.¡± Nick and Wesker shared a look at how impressed they were with the young woman. Even Cathleen nodded, pleased to see such a talent. Nero however, held his mouth shut so hard his teeth ached. ¡®That is a big deal? It¡¯s one god-damn spell. It was kinda complicated, but it¡¯s nothing major. And what¡¯s that got to do with her being out of breath?¡¯ he wondered. Forcing himself to take a second and think before he speaks, he told himself, ¡®There is no point in asking about this. It¡¯s just going to sound insulting. Don¡¯t be an asshole. It¡¯s just like when a kid shows you their finger-painting. Nod along and say it¡¯s great. Don¡¯t think about it.¡¯ Nero did his best to smile and nod along with everyone. Rose, doing her best to not show how proud she was at the attention she was receiving, said, ¡°It¡¯s not that impressive. But, I wanted to give Lord Walker a replacement for the shield he lost during our last excursion. May this shield protect you, as you protect us.¡± Taking a few steps forward, she presented the 4ft tall tower shield to Nero as if it were a trophy. Considering that she was taller than he was, Nero had to reach up a little to receive it. It was almost identical to the one the assassins had destroyed last week. It wasn¡¯t surprising, since it was a standard tower shield from the military¡¯s armory. Nero was a little touched. Although, a little part of him realized that Rose was just trying to reinforce the idea that Nero was responsible for her safety. ¡®Clever girl,¡¯ he thought to himself with some amusement. The moment he received it, Nero started infusing his center into the shield, pushing out Rose¡¯s influence. In his psychic field, he could sense the shield coming under his control. With what he hoped was a regal smile, Nero looked up at Rose and said, ¡°Thank you for thinking of this. I didn¡¯t have a chance to replace ¡®the wall¡¯. It feels good to have something to hide behind once again. Nick¡¯s shield spell was a pain in the ass. This is much better. Thank you.¡± Nick smirked, and shook his head at Nero¡¯s jab. He had become rather immune to Nero¡¯s casual insults. Sergeant Wesker broke up the happy atmosphere by saying, ¡°Hopefully everyone has their gear sorted¡­ now.¡± Everyone turned their heads to look at the serious man, waiting to hear what else he had to say. Looking at Rose with a frown, he asked, ¡°Do you need us to wait while you recover your center?¡± Frostily, she replied, ¡°No, sergeant. My center is strong. Using that much at once just winded me a bit. I¡¯m good to go. What¡¯s the plan?¡± Nodding at her, he said, ¡°Well, in the future, if you¡¯re going to do something like that, don¡¯t do it right before we are heading into the field. No surprise is worth your life. And we don¡¯t have time for you to refill your personal space with supplies.¡± Rose bristled at the criticism, but replied evenly, ¡°Understood sergeant.¡± Nero was about to say something snarky in her defense, but Cathleen spoke up with some disdain in her tone, ¡°Uh-huh, don¡¯t carry replacement gear for others. Got it. But you didn¡¯t answer her question. What¡¯s the plan?¡± Nero looked over Cathleen with some admiration. ¡®Subtle. Dismissive of his opinion, and a little insulting. Nice job,¡¯ he thought. The sergeant mentally cursed the general for sending him back out with these people, and bit back his reply. Instead, he said, ¡°We have most of the day remaining before nightfall. Command has been in contact with Captain Angleton at the base-camp, and we¡¯ve got orders to hit two ¡®marks¡¯ before we make our way to their location. Based on where we are entering, it is a relatively straight shot. Scrying reports are a little light on information, as the essence in the area is making everything difficult. However, expect two spawn-points for class 2 monsters, not beasts. They only appeared recently, so they shouldn¡¯t be too difficult.¡± Everyone nodded along, understanding what he was saying. Nero, as usual, was a little confused, but didn¡¯t bother to ask for a clarification. Instead he just hefted his shield, and prepared for the silent trek through the forest. Before long, they were ready. Looking over his shoulder, Sergeant Wesker said, ¡°All right. Let¡¯s move out.¡± Then pulled out his sword and hefted his shield. As the group moved into the forest, everyone watched their assigned areas, ready for anything. Nero muttered, ¡°Back in the forest, surrounded by mutated freaky animals and magic monsters. How does this already feel familiar to me. It must be something in the water. I bet magical fluoride is 10 times more mind-controlling than the fluoride I had back home. Wait, does the water I conjure from the atmosphere not have fluoride? The cleaning spell for my morning breath should prevent cavities, right? Does the elite monster hunter training program have dental coverage? How much does a magical dentist cost?¡± From behind him, he heard Nick say harshly, but quietly, ¡°Nero, what are you muttering to yourself?¡± Nero cringed his shoulders a little, embarrassed that his private musings were overheard. Replying lightly, he said, ¡°Nothing. Just commenting on how I¡¯m looking forward to massacring the local animal population while restoring this forest to its natural beauty. It¡¯s not often you get to kill things and have the environmentalists thank you for it.¡± Their quiet conversation was halted by a vicious snarl by the sergeant. His tone full of venom he whisper-shouted, ¡°Would you two please shut the fuck up! We¡¯re in the wilds now, and I swear to the gods if you get me killed, I¡¯m coming back as an undead to make what remains of your lives a living hell!¡± Nero heard Cathleen and Rose lightly chuckling at the sergeant¡¯s threat. Nero, not even remotely apologetic, muttered to himself, ¡°I¡¯ll just rez you again, you bastard. No zombie strength for you. Maybe this time I¡¯ll remember to resuscitate your personality.¡± Rose, who was on his left heard what Nero said, and couldn¡¯t hold in her chuckle. Nero glanced over at her and smiled. His cheeks warmed a little at seeing her smiling at his joke. While Nero was thinking about how it was much easier going through puberty when you realized what was happening, he heard Cathleen¡¯s strong voice call out, ¡°Contact, Right!¡± As Rose turned to help, Nero kept his eyes peeled on the left, monitoring the flank. ¡®Yup, back in the nightmare forest. Oh, joy,¡¯ he told himself. Chapter 119 - When enemies fight wrong. Arch-mage Jennings returned to his personal quarters in the Dorchester Mage Tower via teleportation, further antagonizing Lady Bennings. The woman was already going to be filing a stack of complaints against him with the Hennings Tower of Law, what was one more? With a golden ¡®pop¡¯ he manifested in his study and felt his personal connection to the room¡¯s communication crystal re-establish itself. Immediately, he was inundated with connection requests and messages from missed pings. Groaning, he rubbed his hands down his face. ¡®This isn¡¯t going to be pleasant,¡¯ he told himself. Rather than putting it off, he reached out and stabilized the connection request through the communication crystal forming a scry-connection to the council hall in the Hennings Mage Tower. While the holographic window manifested in the middle of the room, Jennings made his way to the wet-bar. He needed a drink for this. When the image resolved itself, the mage council could be seen eagerly waiting to speak with him. Jennings ran his eyes across the councilors, then sighed heavily. Instead of addressing them, he let Arch-mage Mathers quiet them down. He could hear Mathers banging his hand on the council table while yelling at everyone to quiet down. Ignoring them, he collected a glass along with a bottle of apple brandy and walked over to his desk to take a seat. As Jennings poured himself a drink, he heard the mage council fall silent, yet he continued to ignore them. Instead, he just set the bottle down on his desk and stared at his glass. Almost thirty seconds passed in silence before Mathers apparently reached the end of his patience. ¡°Jennings, I believe we¡¯ve waited long enough. I think it¡¯s time for some answers. There are a great many people here who are questioning what exactly you were thinking,¡± he said in a voice cold enough to cause frostbite. Jennings took a heavy sip from his drink, then huffed in exasperation. Squaring his shoulders in his seat, he forced himself to sit up straight and look at the scry-window. His face firmed up as he regained some vigor. His presence swelled, imbuing him with some gravitas. It was rare to see the arch-mage this serious, and the entire council felt a little intimidated. Regardless of how annoying Jennings was, they all knew that he was arguably the most powerful mage in the kingdom. Jennings set down his glass, and said, ¡°I can see how many of you think I made a mistake. After all, the entire reason I came to Dorchester was to see this anomaly in person and stave off threats to his growth. However, everything I¡¯ve done, and allowed others to do, has been with the anomaly¡¯s growth in mind.¡± One of the mages crossed her arms and leaned back in her seat with a huff. She had been a fan of Nero¡¯s antics, and did not appreciate Jennings'' mishandling of the situation. Rather loudly, she muttered, ¡°Old bastard probably forgot how to tend a garden, hasn¡¯t done any real work in centuries.¡± Ignoring the councilor¡¯s outburst, Jennings continued, ¡°When I first learned of the plot, I investigated the chances of it succeeding. After looking into who was involved, and running some calculations based on behavioral models created from historical data in the local Thought-hub, basing their likely moves on their previous behavior, I determined that the assassination attempt only had a 26% chance of succeeding. I even used some subtle influence to manipulate events, and changed the anomaly¡¯s team make-up in order to lower that chance to 7%.¡± While he had been talking, Jennings had collated and transmitted his personal notes on the assassination attempt. The entire mage council was silent as they digested the arch-mage¡¯s words and looked through the calculations he had sent over. While they were reading, Jennings took another sip of his brandy, then looked away from the scry-window. His firm countenance relaxed, and the entire council began to realize how tired the old man actually was. Keeping his voice low, Mathers asked, ¡°So, what happened?¡± Finishing off his brandy, Jennings refilled his glass. ¡°A lot, apparently,¡± he replied evenly. A little annoyed, Mathers replied with some heat, ¡°If it¡¯s not terribly inconvenient, would you mind elaborating?¡± Jennings set down his glass and met Mathers glare through the scry-window. ¡°I did a little digging, and a few things threw off the calculations I had made. First, someone arranged for Lord Blackwood to receive a shipment of dwarven whiskey, which he then shared with Lord Cosgrave¡¯s daughter. That led him to sleeping with her. So ins-¡± One of the council interrupted harshly, ¡°You couldn¡¯t account for interpersonal relationships in your personality matrix? I find that hard to believe.¡± Jennings replied with some venom, ¡°Do you know what the odds are for a bottle of dwarven whiskey to appear in a place like Dorchester? I was well aware of Blackwood¡¯s repressed desires and the daughter¡¯s resemblance to her mother. But the man wouldn¡¯t have made a move if he hadn¡¯t encountered that be-damned enchanted liquor! The man was just supposed to have comforted the girl, then put her in contact with a low-level fixer.¡± Mathers¡¯ voice was wary as he said, ¡°If you¡¯re suggesting that someone knew how dwarven whiskey would influence the situation, I¡¯ll have to seriously reconsider how much faith we have in your deductive reasoning.¡± Nods around the room agreed with the acting director, along with mutters of agreement, all of which stopped when they heard Jennings¡¯ reply. ¡°Three words. Matrix. Of. Fate,¡± he said with some clear malice in his voice. The silence was filled with tension, and Mathers asked quietly, ¡°How sure are you?¡± Jennings offered a dry grimace, implying that Mathers was being an idiot. He then sent over his personal notes from his investigation. The council looked through the documents. There was evidence of someone maneuvering Lord Blackwood¡¯s pet hunters into returning early from an already scouted pro-dungeon they were accidentally sent to investigate. Then there was the mage whose debts were mysteriously called in, requiring them to seek out some side-work. Someone even managed to countermand Jennings¡¯ order to have a war-mage included in the anomaly¡¯s party, not to mention the absence of the captain. The entire excursion was tweaked to allow the assassination to proceed without trouble. While the council read through the documents, Jennings¡¯ voice interrupted their thoughts. ¡°Regardless of whether you think the risk of letting the assassination attempt happen was a good idea, none of you can argue with the facts. Someone played with fate. Worse yet, they were able to do it at a level even I couldn¡¯t predict. So, yes. I¡¯m relatively sure the matrix was consulted. The damn fate-weavers tried to have a new noble killed while trying to ensure that their original prophecy of Dorchester¡¯s fate was ensured. The prideful bastards tried to kill off millions of Oglivarch¡¯s citizens in an effort to hide their mistakes,¡± he growled. The entire council was stewing in repressed rage. Trying to kill a new noble under the protection of the crown was bad enough, but condemning a city to death because they couldn¡¯t handle being wrong? That was too far. Mathers¡¯ tone was full of fury as he asked, ¡°Alright. So what do we plan to do about it?¡± ----- Nero heard the ¡®thwip, thwip, thwip¡¯ of Rose¡¯s arrows, so he knew the right side was in combat behind him. She only started rapid shooting after the sarge and Cathleen were in melee range. Yet, he maintained his vigil on the left side. He¡¯d learned that ensuring the rear of the engagement was just as important as the fight itself. While most of his attention was on the woods in front of him, he could still ¡®see¡¯ what was going on behind him, at least a little bit. Even though Nero wasn¡¯t focusing on the battle, his field still showed him a general idea of what was going on. It was like seeing something happening that you weren¡¯t focusing on, kinda blurry and without any details. As the seconds passed, the combat started sounding sporadic, Nero chanced a look over his shoulder. He could see Sergeant Wesker standing strong, forcing several dog-like things to maintain their distance. There were small mud walls about 3ft high acting as a movement hazard on both sides of the man. Nick covered Wesker¡¯s right side, blasting any of the dogs that tried to jump over the wall. Cathleen maintained the other side, swatting dogs with her spear. Rose was directly behind Nero, firing at whatever she could. The little dogs were fast. Their dark fur and misshapen snouts made them look like over-sized Chihuahuas. Only standing a couple feet tall, they were more of a swarm than a pack. But, there must have been 50 of them running around and barking like a sea of annoyance. Nero snapped his eyes back to the side he was supposed to be covering. Where were the rest? Dog types always tried to get behind their prey. The walls Nick put up were only 25, maybe 30 feet wide. There was no reason for the dogs to not try and just go around them. Why were they only focusing on the opening Wesker was guarding? He narrowed his eyes, scanning the forest as best he could. Even with his field sweeping his attention through the woods, he couldn¡¯t see any sign of the pack trying to surround them, or any other pack trying to act as a flanker. Nero heard Wesker shout, ¡°Walker! Anything in the back?¡± Shaking his head without turning around, he shouted, ¡°Nope. All clear on this side... I don¡¯t get it either.¡± Nick yelled, ¡°Well, get over here and help, I¡¯m having trouble holding them back. They are very resilient¡­ I think they might have some kind of disproportionate disruption property in their essence fields, I¡¯m having trouble maintaining my constructs.¡± Nero could hear the underlying panic in Nick¡¯s voice. Despite how many times they¡¯ve been in situations just like this, the old man was still uncomfortable in combat. If you discover this tale on Amazon, be aware that it has been unlawfully taken from Royal Road. Please report it. Nero said over his shoulder, ¡°Rose, switch out with me. You¡¯ve got the rear.¡± As he turned around, he felt Rose take his place and say, ¡°Got it!¡± Nero took up position a dozen feet behind Wesker to survey the scene, and saw Cathleen and Nick holding back the little monsters. Nick was holding two glowing balls of essence in his hands, blasting the hopping dogs back over the wall, while Cathleen just played whack-amole. He focused his senses on the battle and saw something weird. ¡°Hey Nick, don¡¯t their essence fields seem like they¡¯re all jumbled up together?¡± he asked with a little confusion in his voice. Nick shouted in panic, ¡°Wait, what? Is it a mob?¡± Wesker groaned loudly as he swung his sword, removing the head from one of the little dogs. ¡°I hate dealing with mobs. You see any bodies?¡± he asked calmly. Cathleen called out, ¡°I don¡¯t think it¡¯s a mob, the bodies are just dispersing quickly. Wait¡­¡± Nero looked over at her, curious as to what they were talking about. He saw her lean over the wall and skewer a little dog as if it she were making kebabs. Pulling her spear back, she looked closely at the little monster and watched it struggle and die. The moment it stopped moving, the body seemed to lose cohesion and turn into a black cloud. Immediately, she returned her attention to the wall she was guarding and said, ¡°Never-mind, it¡¯s a mob. We¡¯re just going to have to wear it out. That is unless anyone happens to be carrying a spare set of full plate?¡± Totally confused, Nero asked, ¡°Um¡­ am I missing something? A mob is just a group of monsters right?¡± Nick, clearly annoyed, replied, ¡°Yes. It¡¯s a group of monsters. But while the word means a group, what that implies is that the entire thing is one entity. It¡¯s an essence configuration of the concept of a mob. We can¡¯t kill them off one by one. The total number will stay the same until the stored potential of the mob is used up.¡± Nero, hearing the explanation, tried to understand what Nick was saying, but his brain refused to accept it. Then, like a flash of insight, he thought of the old rpg board games he used to play when he was younger. There were ¡®swarm¡¯ enemies that were single figurines. When their hit points hit zero, the ¡®swarm¡¯ died. Until then, the swarm didn¡¯t lose any of its combat capability. ¡°Oh! I get it,¡± he said. Then with some confusion, he asked, ¡°So why isn¡¯t anyone doing any AOE?¡± Nick used what looked like an air blast to knock a group of hopping dogs back over the wall, and grumbled, ¡°Because we didn¡¯t know it was a swarm! It¡¯s too late now, we¡¯ll just have to kill them off until the mob dies out. Wasting essence on a big spell would be completely irrational. All we have to do is maintain the perimeter and chip away at the swarm''s potential, it will stay together so at least we don¡¯t have to worry about it surrounding us.¡± Nero stood there dumbly, watching Wesker, Cathleen, and Nick occasionally picking off dogs one by one, doing very little in the grand scheme of things. He looked at the incredibly large essence-blob in his psychic senses, realizing that despite their efforts, it wasn¡¯t shrinking all that fast. ¡°But that will take forever!¡± Nero shouted. Wesker, still holding the center, slammed the edge of his shield down on a pair of dogs harassing his legs, and shouted back, ¡°Mobs are annoying, there isn¡¯t a good way to deal with them if you get caught in one. Unless you have a massive essence advantage, overpowering their essence field isn¡¯t worth the effort. Now get over here and start helping. The more of these things we kill, the faster the mob will convert to something we can actually kill. Just be happy the mob manifested as a pack of weaklings.¡± Nero felt Rose approach his shoulder, and he turned to see what she was doing. She looked at Nero and said, ¡°I¡¯ll keep an eye out, you can go into melee.¡± Nero felt this whole situation was absurd. He knew this was a fantasy world, but really? Mobs?!? Even if the concept of an entity made up by a group made sense, seeing it in reality was just too weird for him to process. Focusing his psychic field, he could see the dogs coming back into existence in the middle of the pack after being killed. It was all fuzzy, the mob¡¯s essence field was just too large. Like clouds forming out of nothing, the dogs just materialized and then joined their friends in barking and howling like mad. Shaking his head in wonder, Nero put away his shield and brought out another sword. Dual-wielding, he approached Nick¡¯s side. Cathleen would be more than fine on her own. As he got closer, he took a better look at the essence surrounding them and he could feel what Nick was talking about. The essence in the air felt ¡®muddy¡¯, like it was reluctant to do anything. Nero watched as Nick fought, gaining a little respect for the scientist. Being able to cast at all seemed like a chore. Joining Nick at the wall, he realized he was too short to see much past the wall. He definitely wasn¡¯t tall enough to lean over and start clearing out the ones on the other side. He had known he was only a little over 5 ft, but this was ridiculous, the damn wall came up to his chest. A dog appeared directly in front of him, jumping up and trying to get its paws over the wall. Its snapping mouth caused Nero to hop back in surprise. He lashed out with a sword, feeling his blade dig into the side of its head, causing it to yelp in pain and fall back down. Grimacing at the sound, he suppressed the guilt he felt at hurting what in any other circumstance would be a pet. ¡®Just because they remind you of the evil little bastard Sarah used to have, doesn¡¯t mean its a dog. It¡¯s a monster, and you need to treat it as such,¡¯ he told himself, remembering an annoying little dog that used to bite his ankles until he fed it. Nero joined in the occasional slaughter of the jumping dogs, doing his best to aid in the continued violence. His swords striking out at anything that tried to make its way over the wall. But minutes passed, and he could see that they weren¡¯t really making much progress. Looking around, he could see Wesker and Cathleen were both annoyed, seemingly treating this as an unfortunate task that, while simple, would be a pain in the ass. Nick, on the other hand, was having trouble. Prolonged casting in this environment was causing him to have some problems. Nero could almost feel the man¡¯s center struggling to maintain itself. ¡°Hey Nick, how about you step back for a bit and rest. I got this,¡± he said. Nick shook his head, and replied, ¡°Nero, you don¡¯t have the range to cover this much wall. I¡¯ll be fine. Just focus on your area.¡± Nero knew the man was just being stubborn. Nick did have melee weapons, he just rarely used them. Even during close-quarters training he treated melee weapons like workout tools. He never tried to master them, just fighting with a rapier as if he were in some Errol Flynn movie. Realizing that Nick would eventually tire himself out, Nero tried to come up with something to speed this up. It was ridiculous that their only option was to chop at the edges until the ¡®mob¡¯ tired itself out. While he continued swatting at the jumping dogs, he reached out with his field, trying to get an idea of what the mob¡¯s essence field was doing. He could feel the essence in the ether being subdued by the mob. Mentally reaching in, he tried to grab hold of the flows, but they refused to cooperate. Even if he were to use his center to cast something, he¡¯d have to do it right next to his body, or the essence would refuse to complete the spell. ¡®No wonder Nick didn¡¯t just blast the damn things with fire. Casting anything in their field of control is damn near impossible,¡¯ he said to himself. Yet, Nero noticed that the mob¡¯s essence field was really spread out. It was like its psychic existence was covering the entire area. But he could see that his companions¡¯ fields had no trouble maintaining themselves. So, he reasoned that if he could cast something close to himself without issue, he could still fire things at the mob. Nero¡¯s mind worked at the problem, while he continued to swing away at the hopping dogs. He then noticed that the wall Nick had put up was starting to melt a little at the edges. ¡®How did he put up a wall in the first place?¡¯ he wondered. ¡°Hey Nick, how did you manage to cast the spell to create the wall? The essence field of the mob is all around us?¡± he asked. Looking over, he could see that Nick had finally given in, and was now swinging a sword in one hand, while still using his other to blast the dogs with a simple gust spell. Now that he was closer, he could see the spell attached to the man¡¯s hand. ¡°The ether is still there. The mob¡¯s field is just stopping you from controlling it. It¡¯s like trying to cast inside of someone else¡¯s control range. You can do it, but it takes a great deal of effort. I managed to get the wall up before the mob overtook us. Now I just have to maintain it, it¡¯s not easy, but it¡¯s manageable,¡± Nick said while sounding a little stressed. It had probably been, at most, 10 minutes since this little battle started. Even though the dogs weren¡¯t very large, they still were big enough to bite chunks out of them if they weren¡¯t contained. Nero furrowed his brow at the thought of the mud wall failing. Even though they were all capable of fighting at this subdued pace for an hour. He didn¡¯t like this at all. In his field, he could see the mob¡¯s field shrinking, but it wasn¡¯t fast enough. They just weren¡¯t causing enough damage to it. ¡®It¡¯s a damn dps race. This is a fight with a countdown timer. I¡¯m in a real fight with a damn clock on it!¡¯ he thought to himself. Forcing himself to calm down, he looked around and tried to gauge how they were doing. ¡®Weren¡¯t low level swarms supposed to be a low level encounter?¡¯ He wondered. Even though their progress was slow, they didn¡¯t seem to be in any real danger. The fight was just annoying at the moment. Remembering what Cathleen said, he could see how someone in full plate would just be able to go out there and wreck the little bastards. Their team make-up just wasn¡¯t geared for taking out a lot of small enemies. Upping his intensity, he put away one of his swords and really started chopping at whatever dog managed to get its upper body on the wall. He ran back and forth, slamming his sword into the snarling monster¡¯s faces. Deciding to try something, he started creating a bigger version of his laser spell in his off-hand. Even though there wasn¡¯t a lot of light in the forest, there was enough essence to charge a spell. He just had to let it collect enough light essence before he fired it. And, since he would be creating the construct right next to himself, it shouldn¡¯t be disrupted by the mob¡¯s essence field. All he had to do was concentrate on maintaining it. At least, that¡¯s what he thought. ¡®That should work, right?¡¯ he told himself. After a few seconds of charging the spell, he raised his fist and sent a stream of light into the dogs several feet away from the wall. Due to his height, they were the only ones he had line of sight on. The moment the light left his hand, he could feel the beam start to disperse. It was like firing a gun into a tub of water. All of the power seemed to bleed off of it. By the time the laser hit a dog, the damn thing didn¡¯t even react. Nero could only frown at his failed experiment. The construct¡¯s existence was so brief, it made whatever center he put into it too fragile. Instead of becoming a solid, real construct, it became an incredibly ¡®real¡¯ flashlight. He heard Nick say, ¡°Nero, did you not hear a word of what I just said. You¡¯re inside the damn things control radius. We¡¯re IN its essence field. You don¡¯t have enough control to maintain a construct, let alone to infuse enough essence to imbue a construct with enough center for it to matter. Stop messing around and focus on doing as much damage as possible. I can¡¯t hold up the wall forever.¡± Nero grimaced at implied rebuke. ¡®I listened! I may not have really understood¡­ but I listened!¡¯ he thought sourly. Realizing his center wasn¡¯t the problem, he focused on the essence in the air. It was just too entwined by the mob¡¯s field. Anything he cast wouldn¡¯t have enough ¡®weight¡¯. He could fire a bunch of pebbles, and even if he emptied his center in their creation, they would be too brittle to do anything. So, Nick¡¯s wall only worked because he put it up before he lost control of the ambient essence. ¡®Ok, so that explanation doesn¡¯t help me at all, does it?¡¯ he mentally griped. Swinging his sword lazily, Nero tried to come up with another idea. The only good thing about the situation was that their enemy was so pathetic. He could stand here for hours batting them down if the wall managed to hold up that long. Putting that delightful prospect out of his mind, he tried to focus. There had to be a way to cast something useful. He refused to believe that magic couldn¡¯t solve all of his problems. It was MAGIC, its entire point was about doing things that were impossible. He would figure it out eventually. Chapter 120 - Learning from past experience General Branson sat at his desk, fighting against the evils of paperwork. The past few days had been difficult, and as a result, he wasn¡¯t in the best of moods. There was so much to do, and he was behind schedule. The fact that his schedule was whatever he said it was didn¡¯t factor into it at all, at least as far as he was concerned. He had been forced to waste more than an entire day dealing with Lord Walker¡¯s issues. Even after the council meeting had ended, he was still stuck monitoring the internal investigation, and weeding out all those involved. Even if he hadn¡¯t been personally dealing with it, he still had to sit through the investigating team¡¯s reports and sign-off on their findings. But now, he was finally getting back to what he should have been doing all along. The city needed to shore up its defenses and increase the army¡¯s presence outside the walls in the wilds. For that, he needed to find more soldiers, increase their stores of supplies, put in fresh orders for weapons, and so much more. The last thing he wanted to be dealing with were the nobles and their stupid games. He had a city to save from a density shift and he refused to fail in his duty. Reaching out, he pulled the freshly finished report from the printer, smoothly tapping it against his desk a few times before stapling it together and setting it in his outbox. As he pulled up the next item on his docket from the floating holograms on his desk, he heard his door open without even a ping of warning. He looked up to see one of his aides come in with a worried look on his face. Feeling another crisis incoming, he asked, ¡°What is it now?¡± The aide crossed the room quickly, taking up position in front of the general¡¯s desk. Without any preamble, he said, ¡°Sir, it seems we aren¡¯t done dealing with the fallout from the incident with Lord Walker.¡± Hearing the name of someone who had recently become one of his least favorite people, he clenched his jaw in anger. ¡°What recent headache has ¡®Lord Walker¡¯ gifted us today?¡± his voice full of controlled anger with a hint of mockery. The aide could feel the essence in the room trembling, and coughed into his hand nervously. ¡°Well sir, it seems that the investigation into Lord Blackwood¡¯s network brought to light some problems we have been unaware of,¡± the aide said diplomatically. Instead of asking questions, the general just glared at the young man, waiting for him to get the point. ¡°As you know, the investigators found links to 23 separate individuals currently accepting pay from accounts that led back to the Blackwoods. It seems, that without prompting, they may have done a little more investigating. They used pattern recognition to find similar instances across the entirety of the army. Apparently, it started as a curiosity, but once that the pattern was identified, it was easy to cross-check against it. The results they found... well, they can¡¯t be ignored,¡± the young man said. Paling, the general asked quietly, ¡°How many of my soldiers are implicated?¡± Uncomfortable, the aide shuffled his feet a little. ¡°I didn¡¯t read past the first few pages of the report sir. Once I realized what I was looking at, I came right in,¡± he said. The aide lifted up a file in his hand and handed it across the desk to the general. Roughly snatching the file away, the general flipped past the page with the title and header, looking for the summary page. While looking through the report, he heard his aide say, ¡°It seems that around 20% of our forces have questionable loyalty at the moment. I didn¡¯t read far enough into the report to find out any more.¡± The general¡¯s brow was furrowed with worry as he read through the summary. The investigators had really gone above and beyond their original assignment, but he couldn¡¯t really fault them for it. Although the report didn¡¯t provide any answers concerning what the compromised soldiers were being paid to do, it did detail who was paying them. He saw every major house in Dorchester represented. They had all cultivated networks within his army, right under his nose. A thought occurred to him, and he looked up at his waiting aide asking, ¡°What does this have to do with Lord Walker?¡± The aide looked down, somewhat hesitant. He knew how the general currently regarded the new noble. What had first started as mild interest, transitioned into a grudging respect, but after the general had returned from the most recent meeting of the leadership council, it was now a wary dislike. Since then, the general seemed to think of the young lord as an agent of chaos, a harbinger of problems, and generally responsible for nothing good. In the general¡¯s mind, the young man¡¯s only purpose was causing him grief. Every time the general heard the young lord¡¯s name, the aide could see the man¡¯s teeth gnash in annoyance. Timidly, the aid raised a hand and pointed to the report. ¡°Page three, paragraph two, sir.¡± Flipping through the report, the general found the section and read it. The aide could see the general¡¯s face turning red from anger. The report read: ¡°After reading the transcript from the arbitration meeting in the council hall, we wondered how accurate Lord Walker¡¯s claims actually were. It was with pride in the honor of our forces that we initially started the investigation. We set out to refute Lord Walker¡¯s accusations. There was no way the military was responsible for violating the new lord accords, so we set out to prove him wrong. But the more we dug, the more we found. It is with a heavy heart that we relay our findings to you.¡± The general looked up at the aide and asked, ¡°What in the hells are they talking about?¡± The aide tilted his head with some curiosity. ¡°Don¡¯t you remember? When you and Lord Walker were discussing the military¡¯s prior knowledge of the assassination attempt, Lord Walker reasoned that Sergeant Blackwood didn¡¯t know who in the military was trustworthy. That was the alleged reason he didn¡¯t report it to his superiors. The investigators followed that line of thought and believed that Lord Walker was accusing the military of being full of traitors.¡± The general leaned back in his chair in shock. One random comment from a punk who didn¡¯t want to accept responsibility for not reading his mission packet, and the result is that he had to deal with a fifth of his military being in the pay of the nobles? Now that he knew, he couldn¡¯t exactly ignore it, now could he? Regardless of whether or not the problem existed in spite of Lord Walker¡¯s comment, he still felt as if the annoying little shit was the one responsible for adding another tedious, albeit urgent, task to his docket. Rubbing his temples to combat his growing headache, he closed his eyes and said, ¡°Bring in the team that filed the report. We¡¯re going to have to create a committee, possibly a tribunal, to investigate each of these soldiers and find out what¡¯s really going on.¡± The aide quickly replied, ¡°Yes, sir.¡± Then turned around and left the room as fast as possible. If you stumble upon this tale on Amazon, it''s taken without the author''s consent. Report it. ¡®He couldn¡¯t have known about this, could he? It was just a guess. It had to be,¡¯ the general told himself. ----- After having switched his weapon to one of the spears from his inventory, Nero found the entire situation a little comical. The little monster-dogs continued to try and jump their way over the wall, and in turn he and his team continued to beat them back as if they were were participating in one of those reflex challenges they have at the amusement parks. It wasn¡¯t even all that challenging. Despite knowing that 50 dogs working together could rip each of them apart, the mud wall made the entire fight rather silly. It was an odd feeling, because Nero also knew that Nick was unable to hold the wall together indefinitely. So soon enough, the situation would lose its humor. As he used his spear to pierce a dog through its neck, Nero checked how Nick was doing. By this point the old man had given up on doing spells, and just used his sword to hold the line. But, Nero could tell he was struggling. The effort required to hold the wall together seemed more than he let on. Looking over to his left, he saw Cathleen working with Rose to clear the other side, while Sergeant Wesker continued to massacre the dogs trying to force their way through the passage he was guarding. Nero shouted, ¡°Hey guys, Nick isn¡¯t looking too good. We¡¯re going to have to try something else. It¡¯s been almost 20 minutes and I¡¯m not seeing the essence field shrinking all that much. Is there really no standard procedure or something we should be doing?¡± Cathleen shouted, ¡°The easy way to deal with mobs is to charge the middle and kill things quickly as possible to disrupt the center. Even with how weak this mob is, none of us are geared for that.¡± Wesker¡¯s voice was full of anger as he stomped his foot down on a dog harassing his leg. ¡°I hate mobs. Especially when they¡¯re near their spawn point. Damn things are always so strong. We might need to disengage, then re-equip,¡± he said. Nero could see everyone nodding at Wesker¡¯s conclusion. Shaking his head, Nero couldn¡¯t believe what he was hearing. In his head, he had equated a swarm with the easiest enemies one could face in the board games he used to play. The very idea of running away in defeat seemed ridiculous to him. But he had to admit, the psychic presence of the swarm was massive, and he couldn¡¯t come up with a good way to fight it. ¡®But¡­ they¡¯re just little yappy dogs! Maybe they¡¯re bigger than a chihuahua, but they¡¯re definitely not bigger than a collie. Am I really going to run away from a bunch of collies?¡¯ he asked himself. Fed up with the situation, his mind raced through his options. He could charge the middle. If he made it there alive, maybe he could do the ¡®disruption¡¯ thing they were talking about. It had to be more complicated than just killing things, right? Spells didn¡¯t seem to work, as the mobs essence was still too hard for him to overcome, at least when it was outside of his own essence field. Then it hit him, actual mage armor would be pretty useful in this situation. ¡°Hey Nick, why won¡¯t an essence shield work to get us to the middle?¡± he asked. Nick swiped the head off a dog which had clawed its way up the wall. He replied angrily, ¡°Because essence shields are disrupted by enemy fields. You should know this! It would take a very strong center to create an essence shield strong enough to matter. You¡¯ve been using an essence shield for weeks. I still don¡¯t understand how you¡¯re maintaining it so easily.¡± Nero frowned as he kept up his defense of the wall, but his mind worked through the problem. Thinking through what Nick had said, he came to an uncomfortable conclusion, one which turned his cheeks red with shame. Every time he thought he had a handle on this world, something like this came along and made him re-evaluate how annoying this place could be. Maybe they were being literal when they called it an essence shield. They didn¡¯t mean ¡®mage armor¡¯ at all. As far as he could tell, the function of an essence shield was condensed essence under the control of the caster, which aided their own essence field in disrupting enemy casting. Was that really all it was supposed to do? Maybe it was never meant to stop another person¡¯s essence, it was only meant to influence the constructs of enemy casters. Stopping weak attacks was just a by-product. Any amount of controlled ¡®intent¡¯ behind an attack seemed to make his essence shield completely ineffective. Therefore, it could stop a spell if the enemy caster didn¡¯t fill it with enough center, but it couldn¡¯t stop a knife wielded by someone with their own essence field, since the conceptual fight was actually between the fields. Frowning in thought, ¡®That sounds right¡­ I think,¡¯ he told himself. Mentally going back to the time when he had faced the assassin in the arena, Nero replayed the fight in his head. The guy was just too low leveled to have an active essence field. If he had put any essence into his blade, Nero would have lost his damn head. He knew that already, didn¡¯t he? Then, another realization made him stumble in shock. He had been blaming it all on the guy¡¯s not using an essence blade. No wonder Cathleen had warned him of relying on it for defense. It wasn¡¯t just the fact that the guy didn¡¯t infuse essence into his blade, it was that he was just too weak regardless. An essence blade technique would have only compensated for his weakness. Nero couldn¡¯t help but wonder what everyone else was thinking about what he did? Did they think he was fully aware of what he was doing, and was taking advantage of the assassin''s low level by being incredibly clever? But Nero was just as low leveled at the time, so did that make him look smart, or stupid? It felt like he had just learned that the method he had been using to pass the level was, in fact, an exploit that shouldn¡¯t have worked, and his high score deserved an asterisk. He had been wrong about this twice, at least, probably more. He had listened to their explanation, understood what they were telling him, and he still ended up missing their point. It was infuriating. Yet, despite how embarrassed he was, the sudden reinterpretation of what they meant by an ¡®essence shield¡¯ gave him an idea. Why couldn¡¯t he make actual mage armor? Nick had shown him how to craft a shield spell. It shouldn¡¯t be to difficult to adapt it to a full body spell, should it? After all, there was a mental component to the spell where you had to visualize the size of the shield you were making. Why couldn¡¯t he just imagine a film over his ¡­. Nero remembered the conversation he had in Nick¡¯s lab with Jennings and froze, his spear nearly falling from his hands. ¡®GOD DAMMIT! I WAS DOING IT WRONG THE WHOLE DAMN TIME!¡¯ he shouted in his head. Nero¡¯s anger was unleashed, and he started swinging his spear as if he had gone crazy. Every fuzzy snout that dared show itself over the wall was struck down with the fury of a thousand young masters who had been disrespected by the commoners. Through gritted teeth, he asked, ¡°Nick, is the shield spell supposed to be part of an essence shield?¡± While they both continued fighting at the wall, Nero heard Nick¡¯s annoyed tone reply, ¡°I told you before. You need to listen more, Nero. The shield spell is derived from ¡­ wait a minute. Have you not been applying a meta-physical layer to your essence shield?¡± Nero felt the hair on his neck rise up as he heard Nick bursting into laughter. The fight was ongoing, and the sound of dying dogs interspersed with their loud growls and barks offered a horrible contrast to Nick¡¯s joyful laughter. Luckily, none of the others seemed to understand what Nick had figured out, they only looked over at the madman, who was still swinging his sword while laughing hysterically. Nero continued his defense of the wall, despite the overwhelming desire to go crawl under a blanket and hide from the sound of his best friend reveling in his shame. It only took Nick about a minute to calm himself down. When he finally stopped laughing he said, ¡°So that¡¯s why you can keep your shield up. You only made a condensed essence field, didn¡¯t you. You never got past the first step! I can¡¯t wait to tell the arch-mage¡­ and Sergeant Howard¡­ Oh gods! Vera is going to love this.¡± Nero cringed at the thought of Vera finding out about this slight misunderstanding. Then, like lightning, another realization hit him. If he had a layer acting as a physical shield as part of his essence shield, then it should have stopped any physical effects from getting through, right? So how did Jennings not realize Nero¡¯s shield was incomplete when he launched him across Nick¡¯s lab. ¡®That son of bitch knew I was doing it wrong! He didn¡¯t say anything to spite me!¡¯ Nero shouted in his mind. Then he thought back through the training he had with Sergeant Howard and Cathleen and wondered, ¡®Wait, did that mean they knew too? No, that doesn¡¯t make any sense. Someone would have told me, right? I¡¯m missing something stupid again aren¡¯t I? I need to start learning from my mistakes. Slow down. Stop jumping to conclusions.¡¯ He was brought out of his thoughts by Wesker shouting, ¡°Alright, we¡¯re disengaging. This is pointless. Hopefully the mob will lose interest if we get far enough away. The moment I break off, everyone fall back the way we came. We¡¯ll be moving at speed, so watch your footing.¡± Before Nero could fully process what the sergeant was saying, he saw the man swing his shield low, knocking back a few dogs that were trying to snap at his legs. While the dogs flew through the air, the man turned and bolted. Nero joined his companions as they fled through the forest, easily outpacing the short legs of the dogs. Looking over, Nero said loudly, ¡°Nick, when we get to wherever we¡¯re going, I¡¯m going to need you to explain what exactly an essence shield is, and how the hell it¡¯s supposed to work.¡± Cackling madly, Nick laughed at Nero unabashedly. Having solved one the mysteries surrounding his young friend, Nick was overjoyed. The companions raced through the forest, keeping a lookout for any other enemies, making sure to put some distance between them and the mob before they stopped. Chapter 121 - Texting at the table. Captain Angelton leaned against the 10ft tall stack of lumber, enjoying the smell of fresh cut wood. With his arms crossed, he calmly watched his men putting the finishing touches on the perimeter wall. Soon it would be completed enough for Sergeant Howard to anchor the more permanent wards. Even with the reduced manpower, the teams were performing admirably. The barracks were finally assembled, and he had just come from making sure their supplies were stored correctly in the new warehouse. Even though there were probably 100 of these camps spread through the wilds by now, this one was his, and he was proud of it. If everything goes to plan, he and the elites will be manning this outpost for at least a year. Motion to his left brought him out of his thoughts, and he looked over to see his friend, Sergeant Blackwood, leaving the communications tower. The 40 ft tall wooden structure acted as a beacon along with a transmitter, creating a room where Dorchester¡¯s Thought-hub could reach them out here in the wilds. Initially, building one hadn¡¯t been part of the plan, but in light of recent events, he decided that it was probably a good idea. It was intended to serve as a replacement for the squad¡¯s communication orb, but Sergeant Blackwood had just been using it to check in with his family in Dorchester. Seeing his friend¡¯s confused face, he asked, ¡°Everything all right, sergeant?¡± Blackwood¡¯s eyes rose from the ground, and looked up at the captain while walking over. ¡°Um¡­ better than fine, sir. When I spoke with the new house head, I found out that I¡¯m to be brought into the family¡¯s ladder. I¡¯m officially the 14th heir of House Blackwood,¡± he said, stunned. The captain shrugged himself off the timber pile, letting his hands fall to his sides. The surprise was clear in his tone when he replied, ¡°You¡¯ve been legitimized? Did Victoria officially take over?¡± Nodding dumbly, Blackwood replied quietly, ¡°Yes, sir. She is now the new Lord Blackwood. She told me that my actions were brilliant, hiding a warning that would only be seen if the target of my father were to survive. She seemed to be under the impression that I was hedging my bets, making sure that either way I came out a winner.¡± Captain Angelton raised one of his eyebrows in shock, the only evidence of his surprise. Blackwood had known the captain for a long time, and he could tell how surprised the man must be. ¡°I know, I couldn¡¯t believe it either. She asked if I wanted to return to the estate, or just return to Dorchester to represent the family¡¯s interests within the walls,¡± he said, then held up his hands and continued, ¡°But don¡¯t worry, I told her I¡¯m staying with the elites. She seemed to read something into that, but I¡¯m not sure what. It probably has something to do with the fact that this all started because I was trying to find a way out of this assignment.¡± Captain Angelton nodded, then rubbed his chin in thought. ¡°She probably thinks you have some game going with Lord Walker. It¡¯s probably best not to dissuade her. She¡¯s always been a crafty one. Those types always read too much into things. Let¡¯s just focus on our jobs and leave politics to the politicians,¡± he said firmly. The sergeant ran a hand through his hair and nodded quickly. ¡°You got it, sir. This whole thing has only proven what I already knew. I¡¯m not cut out for all these plots and plans. Give me a simple job and I¡¯ll earn my beer just fine,¡± he said happily. The captain laid a large hand on his friend¡¯s shoulders and replied, ¡°Well, it won¡¯t be all that simple. Command sent word that Wesker¡¯s team, along with Lord Walker and his associates will be here by nightfall. You¡¯re going to be serving as their team coordinator. It was supposed to be Sergeant Howard, but orders changed. So you¡¯ll have to get their assignments together before tomorrow morning. Any questions?¡± Standing up straight, Sergeant Blackwood replied, ¡°No, sir. I¡¯ll head over to the command pavilion and get started on their updated deployment plans.¡± After finishing, he started walking away with purpose. Captain Angelton shouted, ¡°Sergeant, one more thing.¡± Blackwood stopped, but before he could turn around, the captain said, ¡°I¡¯m glad I didn¡¯t have to execute you. But the next time you discover a plot that affects my mission, tell me immediately, or you¡¯ll wish I had.¡± Despite the captain''s harsh words, Sergeant Blackwood could sense the subtle hint of their camaraderie in his friend¡¯s essence field. So, he replied with a smile, ¡°Yes, sir. I¡¯ll keep an eye-out and let you know. Or better yet, I¡¯ll just ignore it and let someone more qualified handle it.¡± Then he turned around and continued on his way to the command pavilion. Cracking a very slight smile, Captain Angelton shook his head in amusement and muttered, ¡°Son of bitch never lets me get the last word. He really is a terrible soldier.¡± Ignoring his friend''s antics, Captain Angelton returned to his vigil, once again leaning against the lumber pile in the center of the camp. From here, he could monitor most of the troops, making sure everyone was working at optimal efficiency. It was a nice feeling seeing everything proceeding according to his plans once again. ----- After having spent the last 30 minutes without any signs of pursuit, Sergeant Wesker finally called for a halt. Nero could see how annoyed the man was, but he wasn¡¯t sure if it was the fact that they had been forced to retreat or how much time the encounter had cost them. Wesker barked out orders to get a small camp going for an early lunch. Nero and Nick set up the ward stones, while Cathleen pulled out supplies for the meal, and Rose started a small fire. Wesker, who usually set up logs for seating and organized the supplies instead started pulling pieces of armor out of his personal space. Nero was surprised because the man was already carrying a big ass backpack. He had thought Wesker just didn¡¯t use a personal space, or at the very least, he didn¡¯t carry anything useful in it. However, it made sense in a way. Sergeant Wesker had a great deal of experience in the wilds, and he probably had things stored away in there which could cover any number of eventualities. The man having a set of full plate in case of situations just like this shouldn¡¯t have surprised him. Nero and Nick made their way around the camp in a wide circle, placing and charging the stones. Rather than start a conversation that he knew would require his full attention, Nero waited to bring up the subject of essence shields, which he desperately wanted to talk about. By the time the ward stones were in place, Wesker was already halfway dressed in his new suit of armor. Cathleen and Rose were finished with their tasks and a large pot was warming over the fire. They were really getting good at setting up a quick camp. Nero and Nick took their places around the fire, each of them pulling a small stump out of their respective personal spaces to serve as a stool. It was a little trick Nero had learned from watching Nick. Coughing lightly to grab Nick¡¯s attention, Nero saw his friend turn to him with a smug smile. ¡°Yes, Nero? What can I do for you?¡± he asked happily. Narrowing his eyes, Nero didn¡¯t let the man¡¯s tone get to him. ¡°I¡¯ve come to realize that I may not fully comprehend essence shields. So, if you don¡¯t mind, I¡¯d like to ask you a few questions concerning the subject. Hopefully, you¡¯ll be able to clear a few things up for me,¡± he said through gritted teeth. Enjoying the story? Show your support by reading it on the official site. Nick feigned shock and replied, ¡°But Nero! You told me that you already knew all about essence shields, and that you weren¡¯t interested in hearing a lecture on a subject you¡¯ve already mastered. In fact, didn¡¯t you tell me that you learned how to cast one from an arch-mage! I clearly recall us discussing this very thing during our classes with Sergeant Howard. What were your words exactly?¡± Nick held up a hand to his chin, as if he were struggling to remember something. Shoulders slumping, Nero begged, ¡°Enough! Nick, I get it. I¡¯m an idiot. I clearly need your expertise, and I¡¯d be lost without you. I¡¯m sorry. Please take pity on me and do me the honor of gracing me with your knowledge. No one in all of Dorchester is more qualified than -¡± Laughing at Nero¡¯s antics, Nick interrupted him, ¡°Fine, fine¡­ and I¡¯ll do my best not to treat this like a classroom. Let¡¯s start at the beginning. When you learned this from Arch-mage Jennings, what did he tell you?¡± Nero pursed his lips and thought about it. After a few seconds, he said, ¡°I wasn¡¯t really paying attention to be honest. I just copied what he was doing. He grabbed hold of a bunch of essence then compressed it along his body. It took me a couple of tries, but I got it. He then shot me with a spell that flung me across the room, but the shield stopped it from hurting me. I took that to mean that my shield was working and that was about it. After that, we covered some simple spells and never spoke about the essence shield again.¡± Nick patiently listened to Nero rambling, his face not reacting in any way. ¡°And did you read up on essence shields after the lesson?¡± he asked. Nero nodded, and replied, ¡°Yeah, a little. I know they can be pierced by essence blades and disrupted by enemy fields, so they don¡¯t do much more than reduce the damage you take during hand to hand combat. There was something about maintaining control over the gathered essence, and a section about advanced uses that I didn¡¯t really get to. I ended up spending most of time reading about how to find hidden enemies through essence perception. I thought it would help find the assassins I was expecting to be waiting for me out here. But that¡¯s not really relevant. So¡­ yeah¡­ that¡¯s about it.¡± Nick¡¯s face remained passive as he let Nero talk. While Nero had been talking, the rest of the team had taken up places around the fire, and were now listening to the conversation. A fact which made Nero increasingly uncomfortable. After Nick let Nero¡¯s words trail off, he nodded in understanding. ¡°You expected the assassins? How? I thought you didn¡¯t read the mission packet?¡­ Never-mind, you¡¯re right, that¡¯s not relevant at the moment. Let¡¯s stick to the subject for once. First off, I think you¡¯ve learned the importance of listening when someone is trying to teach you something. Secondly, I don¡¯t think the arch-mage even realized what you did. It¡¯s probably been hundreds of years since he taught anyone how to cast an essence shield. What works for him isn¡¯t really of much use to someone like you?¡± he said lightly. Nero didn¡¯t reply, he just stared at Nick in confusion. Nick cracked a small smile and continued, ¡°Nero, the man is nearly a thousand years old, and who knows what level he is at. Do you have any idea how powerful his essence field is? He has to keep it contained so it doesn¡¯t rip the control from everyone around him. You copied ¡®his¡¯ shield? Be serious. He probably uses a personalized technique that might not even have a meta-physical layer. His shield most likely has so many spells tied to it that it might as well not even be called an essence shield anymore. All you were doing was collecting a bunch of essence and imbuing it with your control. I doubt you even filled it with your center.¡± Nero nodded softly, then asked, ¡°I¡¯m not saying you¡¯re wrong¡­ but then how come it worked?¡± Nero could see everyone around the fire nodding along with the question, especially Rose. She seemed very interested in hearing Nick¡¯s answer. ¡°Well, that¡¯s a complicated question¡­ kind of. The problem is that I don¡¯t exactly understand what you are doing. I¡¯m just basing all of this on what you¡¯ve told me, and what I¡¯ve observed. I can make some guesses, but without getting you in a lab, I¡¯m hesitant to offer any unsupported conclusions,¡± Nick said quickly. Waving his hand as if it didn¡¯t matter, Nero said, ¡°I¡¯m not interested in proving you wrong or anything. I just really need to understand essence shields. Feel free to guess away. Any help is appreciated.¡± Nick met Nero¡¯s eyes, and sent a request for a private connection through the ether. Nero¡¯s eye twitched, but he did his best to keep his face calm. Accepting the request, Nero heard Nick say, ¡°Are you sure you don¡¯t mind them hearing this? Some of this might touch on some things you aren¡¯t comfortable with them knowing.¡± Nero didn¡¯t cut the connection, but he turned away from Nick and looked at the team members sitting around the campfire. Cathleen was stirring the chunky nutrient slop which passed for their rations, while Wesker and Rose sat comfortably, waiting to hear what Nick had to say. Nero looked down at the ground, thinking about how hard he¡¯d been working to avoid asking questions which might cause someone to figure something out about his stats. He knew they were weird. He¡¯d seen the tables in the books which graphed how most people¡¯s stats looked at his level. Was it really worth putting this conversation on hold, just so he could avoid having the military find out about his weirdness? It¡¯s not like they didn¡¯t already have their theories. They probably had a committee or something going over his test data. He didn¡¯t believe for a second in the integrity of the Thought-hub. Government snooping seemed exactly like something they¡¯d do. If he looked it up, the relevant laws might even be publicly available. The citizens probably considered it common sense. Rose¡¯s voice snapped Nero out of his thoughts. ¡°Well! What¡¯s your theory?¡± she asked Nick impatiently. Nero looked around the forest, reminding himself that this world was just as real as his old one. It was stupid to pretend to be powerful when the opportunity to become powerful was sitting right next to him, offering to help. It didn¡¯t have to be all or nothing, he¡¯d just see what Nick had to say, and deal with it as it comes. There was no reason to blurt out all his stats and ask Nick to interpret them. If he needed to, he could always do that when they were somewhere more private. Nero looked over at Nick and nodded. Over the connection he said, ¡°Go ahead. Try and keep it general though. I¡¯ve been half-assing my education, and if I don¡¯t grow up a little and learn how to protect myself, I¡¯m gonna get myself killed.¡± Nero almost closed the connection before he realized that he was once again ignoring the GLARINGLY obvious. Quickly, he nearly shouted over the connection, ¡°Wait! We can just talk through this connection¡­ can¡¯t we? Just say that you refuse to speculate and will only address the subject when you can get me back in the lab.¡± Nick snapped his mouth shut. Then his eyes widened at what Nero had said. Instead of replying, he said to the entire team, ¡°I¡¯m not comfortable offering anything right now. I need to put Nero through a few tests and see what¡¯s happening with his essence field.¡± Turning his head to look at Nero, he said, ¡°You¡¯ll just have to do your best until I can figure out what makes your essence shield so unique.¡± Nero nodded easily, accepting what Nick said with apparent complaint. Wesker frowned, but kept silent. However, Rose couldn¡¯t stop herself from speaking up, ¡°His essence shield is special? How so? Is it why he is able to cast one at such a low level? Do you think it¡¯s something other people could learn?¡± Nick shook his head and replied, ¡°Until I get him in the lab, I have no idea. He doesn¡¯t even know what he¡¯s doing, so how can I know what¡¯s possible. How about we just eat, then go deal with that mob?¡± Wesker¡¯s harsh voice broke the studious atmosphere. ¡°20 minutes for chow, 10 for reflection and prep, then we¡¯re back at it. We still have two marks to hit before nightfall and we¡¯re wasting daylight,¡± he said. Cathleen reached out, collecting everyone''s large mugs, perfect for drinking their rations. Rose schooled her face, and if he didn¡¯t know better, Nero would have thought she had really dropped the subject. As they ate in silence, Nero asked Nick over the connection, ¡°So¡­ what didn¡¯t you want them to hear?¡± Nick took a large sip of gruel before chewing it and mentally replied, ¡°Nero, is your soul density over 50?¡± Nero knew his best friend didn¡¯t have any bad intentions, and despite knowing that the question was incredibly rude, he answered easily, ¡°The operative level is almost 150, what does that have to do with my essence field?¡± Nick started coughing, his gruel having apparently gone down the wrong pipe. Mentally, he shouted, ¡°I knew it! I fucking knew it!¡± Smirking into his cup, Nero replied, ¡°Language Nicholas! What would Vera say if she heard you talking like that?¡± Chapter 122 - Nero learns a lesson. Vera was having a pleasant morning. She had gotten up early to see Nick and Nero off, and then spent the past hour luxuriating in some peace and quiet. After the chaos of the past few days, it was nice to return to some normalcy. Although, it had been rather pleasant to spend some time with her husband again. It had been a while... Deciding that she was finished daydreaming, she made her way to her office, eager to get to work. As she made her way through the hall, she perused her link, digging into her messages. She poured herself some tea, and sat at her desk watching the holograms wink into existence. The displays of her efforts and current projects brought a slight smile to her face. From here, she felt as if she were in control of all of Dorchester. Her mind unfolded and several streams of consciousness started digging into the various tasks she had assigned herself that day. While going through the paperwork for the trading houses, she signed off on another three storefronts. Soon, Precision Trading will have a presence in every gate. Each store carefully curated to provide what the locals need, as soon as they need it. Her initial plans had expanded in scope, and she couldn¡¯t be more thrilled. Her efforts to expand Nero¡¯s manufacturing capabilities were also going well. She had successfully acquired two more factories through ¡®hostile¡¯ negotiations. As a result of her efforts, after merging everything together, Walker Industries was doing quite well. Even better for her, House Verena was responsible for providing several blacksmiths and factories, which resulted in her owning almost 15% of the company. If she wanted a larger piece of the pie, she¡¯d have to talk to Nero. Before she could let her thoughts linger on the predictable problem of her divided loyalties, she saw an urgent message from some of her agents. Opening it, her jaw dropped in surprise at what she was seeing. Victoria Blackwood moved quickly once again, decisively ending any threat to her position. Last night she executed two of her sisters for treason against House Blackwood. She even went through the trouble of having the Tower of Law in attendance to ensure the legalities were observed. With the duels she had the day before, that¡¯s a total of 4 sisters killed in less than two days. That¡¯s not even mentioning the four banished heirs she had cut out of the family. She had already been confirmed by the family heads to be the new Lord Blackwood, and it looked like she was adapting well to her new position. Vera was impressed. ¡®Very well done young lady,¡¯ she mentally congratulated the new house head. Pausing her work, Vera leaned back in her chair and sipped her tea. Nero had said he thought the woman might turn out to be capable, which now appears to be an understatement. She had to admit, the young man was very perceptive, despite his oddities. What had he gone through to be able to read people like that? Putting thoughts of Nero and his mysteries out of her head, she focused on the issue at hand. She would have to be careful when she met with the woman. Even with the agreement, Vera couldn¡¯t allow her any room to maneuver. The leadership council had been present during the arbitration, but the specifics still needed to be discussed. Tapping her fingers against the chair arm in thought, she looked out her windows calmly. ¡®I wonder how far she¡¯ll try and push me. Despite Nero¡¯s friendship with her brother, I doubt he¡¯d want House Walker to lose out in this exchange, even if it¡¯s a matter of degrees. I¡¯ll need more information about the Blackwoods in general, and I¡¯ll definitely have to acquire some recordings of the new lord¡¯s exploits in the arena. Knowing who sits across from me at the negotiating table is crucial to getting them to give me what I want. And if worse comes to worse, House Verena hasn¡¯t participated in a noble war yet. This might turn out to be another interesting week. Who knew being a proxy could be this much fun?¡¯ she thought to herself with a smile. ----- While everyone enjoyed their gruel in silence, the crackle of the fire along with the sounds of the forest created a rather pleasant atmosphere for the companions. Rose, Wesker, and Cathleen were lost in their thoughts. Each of them quietly eating their meal while letting the tension of their morning fade away. Meanwhile, Nero and Nick were having a private conversation through their mental connection. They had been careful not to let on that they were capable of it, and their efforts were paying off right now. Neither Nick or Nero wanted their conversation to be shared with the military. Nero, due to the fact that he was paranoid, and Nick because his curiosity was bordering on illegal. ¡°Nero! Do the math. A person typically awakens with a soul density between 3 and 7. Taking into account the optimistic level stress of 3 for the stat, and an increase of half of that during soul level, what equivalent level would you need to be in order to have a soul density of over 100!?! That¡¯s not even taking into account the multiplicative effect of stars for the operative density,¡± he said with clear excitement in his voice. Nero glanced at his friend, and he could tell the man was having trouble keeping his poker-face intact. ¡°Calm down, Nick. I did do the math. I figured I started off with an equivalent of 60 levels in my soul density. But I got a little confused about the whole multiplication thing,¡± he said. Figuring that he needed a reference, he brought up the soul stat section of his identity.
Soul 2
Base Operative Level Stress
Size 29 40.6 2.4
Density 101 141.4 1.4 This story is posted elsewhere by the author. Help them out by reading the authentic version.
Intensity 76 106.4 1.9
Pressure 27 37.8 1.9
Harmony 24 33.6 21.8
Adaptability 270 378 1.2
While Nero looked at his stats with some confusion, Nick replied quickly, ¡°What¡¯s to be confused about? Operative levels are just the base stat added to twenty percent of the product between the base stat and the amount of stars infused into the governing stat in question. What¡¯s more interesting is what you having a soul of that strength implies!¡± Nero tried following along with what Nick had just said, but despite understanding what every word the man spoke actually meant, his brain just wasn¡¯t wired like that. So instead of dwelling on it, he just shot Nick an annoyed look from behind his gruel cup, and replied, ¡°And what exactly does it imply?¡± ¡°That the arch-mage was right! And more importantly, so was I. You see, when we were in my lab, Arch-mage Jennings postulated that you spent a great deal of time without a body. The memory of that time wasn¡¯t recorded in your mind, because a body is required to interact with and alter a mind imprint. So when you finally gained a body, the mind imprint that was used to form your consciousness came from when you were outside the planar spheres. He believed your body and mind were influenced by the remnant desire of your soul¡¯s wish to be an adventurer, or at least what you believed an adventurer to be,¡± Nick said with a lecturing tone. Now, normally Nero would interrupt a rant like this. After all, while this all sounded very interesting, he¡¯d also heard it all before, including the parts he still didn¡¯t understand. His soul was altering this body at the whims of his inner desires, so what? Yet, Nero had learned his lesson about interrupting smart people who were trying to tell him something. Eventually, Nick would get to the point, and Nero would just have to put up with him until he got tired of hearing himself talk¡­ or think¡­ or whatever the term for mentally communicating was. Nick sat on his stump with a dumb smile on his face, eating his gruel out of his cup and sipping his iced tea from his enchanted flask. All the while, he was mentally walking Nero through his thought process. ¡°So your body and mind were, and still are, being shaped by that desire. But that didn¡¯t account for all your peculiarities! Even with an inborn, or more accurately ¡®ingrained¡¯ advantage concerning spell casting and temperament, you shouldn¡¯t be able to do half the things you do. You can SEE spells in your psychic field! That isn¡¯t normal. Most people can¡¯t do that, regardless of level. It¡¯s not just a function of your soul density. It¡¯s a fundamental difference between your soul and everybody elses,¡± Nick said as if he hadn¡¯t said something outrageous. Nero¡¯s eyes widened, and he struggled not to show his fear and confusion on his face. ¡°I think your soul spent so much time in the outer planes, slipping between realities that it changed how it interacts with the ethereal plane and material reality. I bet your adaptability is over 50 too, isn¡¯t it?¡± Nick said proudly, figuring he was finally starting to understand his young friend. Nero frowned at the implications of having an ¡®altered¡¯ soul. ¡°Um¡­ the soul adaptability, right? It¡¯s at 270 for the base, 378 for the operative. That¡¯s really high, right?¡± Nero felt the hairs on his neck rise up, and he glanced over at Nick to see him staring back at him, eyes wide in what could only be described as horror. The man quickly gathered himself, and returned to staring at the fire, but Nero could tell Nick was still pretty shaken. Nick tone was very soft as he said, ¡°Nero, a soul¡¯s adaptability like everything else can be improved by level stress and infusing stars. However, where time and effort can affect a soul¡¯s density, its adaptability is influenced by adversity. What I mean by that, is that it is incredibly rare to get a soul¡¯s adaptability level stress above .5, and that usually only happens to people who spend a great deal of time traveling the planes through astral projection. No one, and I¡¯m not embellishing to make a point, I mean NO ONE has a soul adaptability stat over 100. That isn¡¯t just rare, that¡¯s unprecedented, bordering on impossible. I can¡¯t imagine what your soul must have been through to become so malleable.¡± Nero gulped, his stomach roiling in his gut. ¡°When you say malleable, you don¡¯t mean easily changed, right? It sounds more like you mean changeable. Wait, that¡¯s not right either. I guess I don¡¯t understand what you mean,¡± he said with some worry. Nick replied, ¡°You understand what I mean, but you¡¯re struggling with the implications. It¡¯s a common problem with translation across languages. What I mean is that your soul is able to change itself to fit its environment better. Your soul isn¡¯t damaged, and is probably very resilient. But¡­ and don¡¯t freak out¡­ but I think your soul has very little in common with the standard human soul at this point.¡± Nero dropped his canteen, then hastily picked it up before too much water spilled out. Everyone around the fire looked over at him, and he just shrugged sheepishly while trying to play it off as nothing. ¡°I¡¯m not human?!?¡± he asked. With a tone full of compassion, Nick replied, ¡°Of course you¡¯re human Nero. It¡¯s just that your soul may be a little¡­ different... now. I¡¯d say it¡¯s probably closer to a planeswalker. Ha! Walker, get it. That¡¯s kinda weird now that I think about it. Just be happy it still ¡®looks¡¯ like a human soul, otherwise you would have been killed the moment you entered our plane. Gods above and below, that is a load off my mind. I¡¯ve been stressing out about how weird you were, but now it all makes sense.¡± Nero¡¯s eyes narrowed, he looked over at Nick and saw the man sitting comfortably on his stump, sipping his iced tea, seemingly at peace with the world. Apparently, now that he knew Nero¡¯s deepest secrets, the stress lines on his face were just melting away. ¡°And how does any of this affect my essence shield?¡± Nero asked icily. Surprised at what he considered a complete change in subject, Nick replied, ¡°Your essence shield? It doesn¡¯t really have anything to do with that. It just means that your essence field is really overpowered for your level, and since you were contracting it across your body, it did a pretty good imitation of the effects. No wonder everyone thought you were using an essence shield. I bet Sergeant Howard had to use a lot of center just to get through your field with his constructs intact. It¡¯s kinda funny when you think about it. If you hadn¡¯t been using what you thought was an essence shield, we¡¯d have figured this out ages ago. Everyone¡¯s been treating you like a level 15 with an essence shield, when they should have been treating you as a level 15 with an essence field resembling a level 50¡­ or maybe 70. I don¡¯t know, we¡¯d have to put you in field-inductor to find out how strong your field actually is. After all, there are a lot of factors that determine an essence field¡¯s strength. The body and mind also play their part.¡± While Nero listened to Nick flippantly regaling him with a rehash of his own misunderstandings and blunders, he felt his entire body shaking in repressed fury. ¡°You mean to tell me that I wasn¡¯t even using an essence shield?¡± he asked. Nick, completely ignoring the agitation in Nero¡¯s psyche, replied, ¡°Well, you did the first part. You collected essence and collapsed your field. All you have to do now is impart the identity of a shield onto the film along the layer. It¡¯s just like when you cast the shield spell. The spell collects the essence and your center supplies the identity. You just didn¡¯t complete the technique. All you did was copy the arch-mage¡¯s field. I doubt even you could have seen the spells he had active on his own field. I bet the arch-mage just assumed you figured out the rest on your own. Why wouldn¡¯t he? Collapsing the field is the hard part after all. Actually turning on a shield is incredibly simple after that. I doubt the spell he hit you with was all that strong anyways¡­ you were like what, level 8 at the time? He wouldn¡¯t have wanted to hurt you. Your field¡¯s been strong enough to tank that since you¡¯d gotten here. Why are you looking at me like that?¡± His eyes were staring at Nick with reflected flames from the fire dancing in his irises. Nero, still fuming, patiently waited for Nick to finish. Despite his urge to throw his mug of gruel at his friend, he waited to see if Nick had anything more to add. ¡°If you already knew what the problem was, then what was all that about my soul stats? Why didn¡¯t you just say that from the beginning?¡± Nick looked at the fuming Nero and replied easily, ¡°You have no idea how annoying it is to have a theory I had no way of proving. What can I say, I was curious. Now let me eat the rest of my meal in peace. Practice your essence shield, you should be able to figure it out now.¡± Then turned his head back to the fire, and enjoyed the companionable silence while closing the mental connection with his young friend. Nero stared at Nick, stunned at the man¡¯s casual abuse of the situation. On one hand, he was furious that Nick used the situation to probe Nero¡¯s secrets. But on the other, he was filled with brotherly love for his best friend that he now knew was a troll after his own heart. Deciding to let it go, he joined everyone in staring at the fire, while muttering, ¡°GG Nick¡­ well played.¡± Chapter 123 - Advantages have drawbacks. Arch-mage Mathers walked with purpose, his steps hurried but controlled. He and his retinue made their way toward the office he was currently borrowing from Jennings, his scowl growing worse the longer he listened to one of the young mages currently accompanying him. The man on his right was struggling to keep up while most of his mind was focused on relaying what he was reading on his link. ¡®The young never spend enough time training the basics. The fool can probably cast a class 3 variable event but can¡¯t walk and read at the same time,¡¯ he thought to himself with some disappointment. Glancing over his shoulders as he walked, he looked at the three young mages dutifully following him, delicately probing their field strengths. With just a thought, he opened his link and brought up their employment records, noting their ages. Only one of them was out of their first century. Halting his observations, his attention returned forward, dismissing them from his thoughts. While part of his attention listened to the young man drone on, the core of his mind wandered, ¡®Was I really any different at that age? Seduced by the lure of power and results, we all tend to ignore what¡¯s important. If we didn¡¯t, then we wouldn¡¯t be in this situation, now would we?¡¯ Interrupting the young man¡¯s impeccable report on the status of the Tower of Magic¡¯s various efforts, Mathers asked, ¡°Are the preparations finished for the summit? Anyone fail to respond to the summons?¡± As the young mage on the right fell silent, the one trailing behind him spoke up, eager to report her successful efforts. ¡°No, arch-magister, the court-mages have all confirmed their attendance. The conclave has been opened and the communication array is charging as we speak.¡± Mathers grunted in annoyance. ¡°I¡¯m not the arch-magister. Just because I¡¯m sitting in his chair doesn¡¯t mean I¡¯ve taken the position. If he can get by being called an arch-mage, than so can I,¡± he said, with a little more heat in his voice than he intended. ¡°Of course, arch-mage,¡± the young mage replied immediately. Rolling his eyes, Mathers moved on. ¡°Speaking of the old troublemaker, have our analysts and the infiltration teams found anything supporting his hypothesis?¡± he asked, turning to the young man on his left. With a calm, controlled voice, the young mage replied, ¡°Not much as of yet. However, one of the infiltration teams in Valtenburg found evidence confirming a plot between some nobles and several agents with ties to the Tower of Fate.¡± Pausing in the hallway, Mathers turned to young man and glared at him. ¡°What kind of plot?¡± he asked icily. The young man met Mathers eyes without flinching and replied, ¡°The local nobles were hiding evidence of an essence disturbance. They¡¯d paid off mages and logicians working at the local towers to alter the data in the local Thought-hub and suppress reports of sightings. According to the records the infiltration team found, the fateweavers were promising that such actions would lead to a new dungeon spawning within the city¡¯s control range.¡± Mathers scoffed, then resumed heading toward the magister¡¯s private office. ¡°Idiots all of them. The nobles for giving up their honor for a chance to raise their position, the local mages for selling their futures, the logicians for risking their lives for valens, and those fate weaving morons for relying on probability to predict what kind of dungeon would spawn. For all they know their actions might end up allowing a rift to open right next to a city. They¡¯ve been wrong before, why do they think the damn laws prohibiting prophecy manipulation exist! The hubris of those bastards is just as bad as Jennings said.¡± The three mages replied in unison, ¡°Yes, arch-mage.¡± Had Mathers been paying attention, he might have found it amusing to see them all look at each other in surprise at their impromptu coordination. Reaching his destination, he waved his hand to softly throw open the large doors. Without breaking stride he walked into the entryway and saw his two assistants stand up from their desks to greet him. Before they could say anything, he asked tersely, ¡°Anything I need to know?¡± The assistants shared a brief look across the room, then the one on his left said, ¡°Lord Walker¡¯s party encountered a mob in the wilds of Dorchester. It looks like we¡¯re finally going to get some answers about the anomaly¡¯s essence-shield! The consensus in the council chamber is that the shield isn¡¯t anchored properly and is only powered by the ambient essence. However I, and the other Nero-knights believe that he isn¡¯t even using a shield. Everything up to this point has been his natural field protecting him from harm. Well, as much harm as it could at this point. But that¡¯s still impressive considering he isn¡¯t even level 15 yet. Him having a field of such strength at his level is incredible!¡± The young man¡¯s voice gained enthusiasm as he spoke. Mathers stuttered to a stop as the assistant relayed his theories, the young mages following him almost ran into him. The scowl which had been permanently attached to his face transitioned to shock. He looked at the assistant and replied in a voice devoid of warmth, ¡°I meant about anything important. I don¡¯t care who our mages spend their free time watching, but when there are things of importance that need doing, I expect everyone of us to rise to the occasion. We might be facing an official Tower war for the first time in a thousand years, and this one might span the entirety of the kingdom. Over half of the cities in Oglivarch have Towers of Fate by this point, every one of them currently operating under a royal seal. Nevertheless, the Tower of Magic has stood as one of the pillars this kingdom was built on since its inception, and I will not allow those fateweaving half-wits to spread their idiocy any longer. The director wants evidence of their wrongdoings, and I¡¯ll be damned if we don¡¯t find it for him. I¡¯ll be in my office¡­ focus on what matters.¡± Mathers took two steps toward his office, then paused once again to glare at the assistant. ¡°And ¡®Nero-knights¡¯? Really?¡± he asked with his voice full of derision. ¡°If you end up making some of those t-shirts Nero always talked about, I¡¯d recommend sending him some royalties. He strikes me as the kind of man who wouldn¡¯t be happy having his ideas stolen.¡± Shaking his head in disappointment, he muttered, ¡°Idiots¡­ I¡¯m surrounded by idiots.¡± As he stormed through his office doors, the three mages that had been accompanying him rushed to follow him in before the doors slammed shut behind them. The two assistants shared a look, their faces rife with fear and embarrassment. The one who hadn¡¯t spoken said, ¡°I told you he wouldn¡¯t care right now. You should have just written out a report and sent it to his link labeled as an anomaly update." The overly enthusiastic fan of Nero replied, ¡°Yeah, that probably would have been a good idea. After all, he probably wanted to watch it himself. No one likes to have the ending spoiled.¡± Together, they nodded in agreement, then sat down and returned to their duties. ----- Instead of fleeing the wilds after their defeat, they had skirted the boundary, heading North along the border. Considering that they had only been, at most, 30 minutes into the wilds when they¡¯d met the mob, they were still surprisingly close to the edge of the forest. While that was good news for their safety, it didn¡¯t bode well for their time table. Nero saw Sergeant Wesker stand up, wash out his cup with some water from his canteen, then toss the contents into the fire. As the water caused a pleasant ¡®hiss¡¯, Wesker addressed the group, ¡°Alright, 10 minute warning. You know the drill.¡± Nero watched as the man began collecting the gear he had changed out of. Now in full plate, Wesker looked like a walking tank. The armor wasn¡¯t fancy, and the dull steel reminded Nero of any number of hackneyed knights he¡¯d seen in movies and television. The image wasn¡¯t helped by his fluid motions, which gave the false impression that the armor wasn¡¯t metal at all, just a pale imitation of what the warriors of old used to wear. Nero stifled a chuckle at seeing him bend down and start picking up his old leathers and chainmail as if he weren¡¯t hindered by his armor at all. As Nero watched his companions start breaking down their temporary camp. Cathleen and Rose began dealing with the food and the fire, Nick stood up and stretched before heading for the ward stones, while Nero debated whether or not to ask for a few minutes to work on his essence shield. ¡®There is never enough time in the field. I¡¯m either on watch, eating, or I¡¯m asleep. Is it any wonder I never got around to reading the mission packet?¡¯ he asked himself wryly. Pushing himself off his stump with his left hand, he smoothly pulled it into his personal space the moment his weight was off of it. Without saying a word, he followed Nick toward the ward stones. Normally when they collected the stones, he was just responsible for keeping an eye out while Nick took care of turning them off and purging the remaining essence. Storing them charged was apparently a no-go. If you discover this tale on Amazon, be aware that it has been unlawfully taken from Royal Road. Please report it. Quickly catching up to Nick, Nero whispered, ¡°Hey man, can you keep an eye out while you deal the stones? I want to try and figure out how to add a meta-thing to my essence shield.¡± Nick snorted, and replied just as quietly, ¡°Sure, my sensory range should be more than enough to handle it. And it¡¯s a ¡®meta-physical¡¯ layer. Just do the same thing you do with a shield spell, just without the spell-form.¡± Nero glared at Nick¡¯s back, replying, ¡°Yeah, sure. Do the spell without doing the spell. Can you people even hear yourselves? I¡¯m surrounded by fortune-cookies.¡± Nick¡¯s feet paused and he looked back at Nero confused. ¡°Your old world had cookies that gave inaccurate prophecies? That¡¯s just¡­ I don¡¯t know what that is. You know, everything I learn about your world makes me understand a little more about how you became how you are. You really have been through a lot.¡± His voice was full of sincere compassion. As he walked off toward the stones, Nero could see him shaking his head in pity. Nero didn¡¯t bother to correct him, as the man¡¯s horrific opinion of Earth was a constant source of amusement that he never seemed to get tired of. Instead, he just followed along behind him, while focusing on fixing his essence shield. First things first, he slowly let the condensed essence he had been carrying release. It felt like forcing himself to slouch after having worked on his posture for a year. There was an element of comfort, but overall it just felt¡­ wrong. Rolling his shoulders and shaking out his limbs, Nero tried to loosen himself up. He saw Nick glance at him over his shoulder, probably wondering what he was doing. Ignoring him, Nero extended his field as far as it could go, straining to reach out through the forest. After spreading his psyche as thin as possible, he flexed his will and lightly grabbed at the edges. He imagined that this must be what raking a lake must feel like. He didn¡¯t exactly force it, but any free essence in the area pulled in toward his body, compressing against the natural field along his skin. Firming his hold, he compressed the essence, watching it flow around him faster and faster. The amount of essence he pulled in was much higher than what he¡¯d been capable of even a few days ago. Smiling at his progress, he tried to focus on his next steps. Meanwhile, Nick had brought them to the first ward stone and was lazily holding it up, idly watching it drain whatever essence it had collected over the past half hour, while leading them to the next stone. Nero¡¯s mind worked furiously, but he really had no idea what he should be doing. His pride warred with his common sense for almost a full minute before he sighed in defeat. ¡®Get over yourself. Nick is RIGHT there, just ask him for help. There is no point trying to do this on your own. You¡¯re not on Earth anymore, you can afford to admit that you have no idea what the hell you''re doing. Not knowing something is not a punishable offense here,¡¯ he assured himself. ¡°Hey Nick, I got the essence condensed, but I don¡¯t know where to go from here,¡± Nero asked without asking, not realizing that he hadn¡¯t actually asked a question. Nick didn¡¯t bother to turn around to address him. He was picking up the next ward stone, already having deactivated it ¡°Have you infused your center into the essence you¡¯ve collected?¡± he asked simply, no judgment at all in his voice. Nero frowned, then focused on the rushing currents moving along his body. Delicately, he tried to release some of his center into the compressed essence. Normally, he¡¯d use his hands as the medium for his center, or at least visualize it appearing somewhere. Letting it seep out of his core was an odd feeling. Almost immediately, his senses started identifying the flows. He sensed so many different types of essence, he began to feel dizzy and stumbled into Nick. Nick, feeling Nero bump into him, looked over and saw Nero¡¯s blank face. ¡°Nero, stop focusing on the flows, just let your center connect with the field,¡± he said, an undercurrent of annoyance slipping into his tone. Nero nodded absently, pulling his awareness away from the flows. Yet, he could still feel the essence covering every inch of his body, slipping through his clothes, running along the thin edge of his bio-field. Psychically, he could practically ¡®taste¡¯ the color of his leather armor. Information and sensations were bombarding his mind, as if his identity were entwined with everything in that small, compact area. Which, in a way, it kind of was. Nero¡¯s attention was pulled by Nick¡¯s hands clapping in front of his face. ¡°Snap out of it. Learn to master your mind. You are in control of what you focus on. Don¡¯t get lost in the essence. Just claim it, and let it serve as a buffer between you and the world. You understand what I¡¯m saying?¡± Nick asked, finally giving Nero his full attention. Nero nodded dumbly, doing his best to control his scattered thoughts. Shaking his head harshly, he pushed the information he was receiving to the corner of his mind. It was like being surrounded by flashing lights and people trying to get your attention, but having to focus on the person whispering right in front of you. But those mind stats must be useful for something, so Nero persevered and forced himself to focus on Nick¡¯s face. With his attention finally locked onto his friend, he said, ¡°Alright, I think I got it. It¡¯s a pain in the ass, but I got it. Now what?¡± Nick was staring hard at Nero, standing directly in front of him, forcing Nero to keep looking him in the eyes. ¡°Good. Now gently, try and focus on the field of control you have at the edge of the compressed field. It should feel like a thin film, a separate area of your psychic presence frozen in space, currently holding back your center along with the essence you¡¯ve collected. Let me know when you¡¯ve found it,¡± he said with total seriousness. Nero grimaced, muttering, ¡°Don¡¯t call it a film.¡± He did his best to ignore the corralled essence imbued with his center, and focused his mind on the edge of the field. Like a calm in a storm, he felt the grip that had become second nature to him become clear in his senses. It was like focusing on the muscles you used to breath, having forgotten about them but being intimately aware of them in the moment. ¡°Found it. It¡¯s actually not that bad if I maintain my focus on it. It makes ignoring the essence flows much easier,¡± he whispered, not paying much attention to what he was saying. Nick nodded, watching Nero¡¯s eyes glaze over. He remembered what it was like for him when he went through this training. He had expected Nero to have an easier time than he did, but after thinking about it, he realized what the problem was. Nero¡¯s field was far too strong for him to manage. His psychic field was just too powerful, and his skills were not capable of controlling it. In a way, it was nice to see Nero having trouble with something that for most people is incredibly simple. Keeping his voice calm and steady, he said, ¡°Alright Nero. Now I want you to think about that layer becoming a shield. It¡¯s just like the shield spell, remember? Its purpose is to stop things from getting past it. Nothing can cross it if you don¡¯t want it to. It is your shield. You decide what can pass. Focus on making it real, and let the center you¡¯ve released into the field mix with it. Give it an identity.¡± Nero imagined his mage armor. A bubble enveloping his body and clothes, its only function to defend him from harm. With it, he was invincible. Nothing could hurt him. He was a mage, and this was his armor. His focus narrowed, and the mage-armor became the entirety of his world. It happened so fast, he almost didn¡¯t catch it. Like a loading screen which had been stuck at 99%, it ticked over to one hundred. His shield solidified, and he could feel the comfort of having a magic shield protecting his body from harm. It was there, but it wasn¡¯t. He held up his hand, staring at it in awe. Through his psychic field, he could see the film covering his entire body, yet his eyes saw nothing. It was disorienting and wonderful. Nick¡¯s voice was calm, but commanding. ¡°Nero, check your center levels.¡± Not even questioning Nick¡¯s orders, he pulled up his identity.
Name Nero Walker Level 13
Race Human Growth 72%
Tier 1 Condition 100%
Age 14 Center 76%
Body 4 Mind 5
Soul 2 Confluence 10
Stars 0 Pillars 1 / 1
Nero muttered, ¡°76%, wait¡­ 75%¡± Nick¡¯s voice was firm, ¡°Nero, focus! Remember to hold on to yourself. Firm your will. Control your center. The better you can hold it together, the longer you can keep your shield active. If you really plan to walk around with an essence shield active at all times, you have a lot of work to do.¡± Nero heard what Nick said, and his resolve was reignited. Like a man being told that he had to hang the shelves before getting to go to the bar with his friends, Nero put his all into controlling what was happening. He was getting a headache, but he was getting a handle on it. Checking his identity, he saw that it had dropped to 67% before stabilizing. Yet, Nero knew he couldn¡¯t keep up this level on concentration forever. He felt like his mind was splitting. He had to keep his center contained, ignore the essence flows begging for his attention, and finally maintain the identity of the shield itself. And that wasn¡¯t taking into account moving around or interacting with the material world around him. Nick¡¯s voice remained steady. ¡°Now, pull back your center from the essence field. Let it flow back into your center. Don¡¯t let any slip away.¡± Nero¡¯s brow was covered in sweat, but he did what he was told. He felt his center pull back from the condensed essence, slipping back into his core. The essence lost its voice, and the onslaught of sensory information vanished. But, he could still feel the shield holding steady. Looking at his identity, he saw he had regained around 10% of his center, putting him back up to 77%. Doing some quick math¡­ he had no idea how much center he had lost while creating his shield. ¡®Good job dumb-ass. Couldn¡¯t even bother to check your center before starting an experiment. You¡¯re a real credit to the mages of Dorchester,¡¯ Nero mocked himself ruthlessly. Chapter 124 - What am I missing? Lord Heleema Cosgrave relaxed, enjoying her morning coffee. The solitude was a welcome change of pace, as her two remaining consorts were starting to get on her nerves. Over the past few days, they had done everything in their power to demonstrate their loyalty and, even worse, their love. Francis kept trying to give her a massage, while Dustin had been leaving various chocolates and desserts all over the place. She had even woken up this morning to breakfast in bed, served by the two of them with proud smiles adorning their stupid faces. Sitting in her office, with her feet up on the desk, she leaned back in her chair and groaned as the scene played itself on repeat in her head. ¡®Why in the hells are they being so clingy? It¡¯s like they¡¯re teenagers again, competing for my attention, knowing full well that I have more important things to do than sit around all day, playing house,¡¯ she grouched to herself. At that thought, she froze, her coffee halfway to her mouth. Why WERE they acting like that? She started to think about it carefully, her finely honed political senses were tingling. Opening her link, she sent a request for her aide, Jessica Chandler, to come in. It didn¡¯t take long, as Jessica¡¯s office was right next door. Gliding into the room, Jessica said, ¡°What can I do for you, my lord?¡± ¡°Jessica, sit down for a minute and help me work through something,¡± Lord Cosgrave ordered. Despite being her aide, Jessica was a wonderful sounding board for her thoughts and plans. They¡¯d been together for years, and their bond was extremely close. Probably a little too close if someone were to ask her consorts. Taking a seat, Jessica leaned forward and picked up the pot of coffee along with a cup. She held them up, as if asking for permission to pour herself some. Absently, Heleema waved her hand as if she didn¡¯t care. So, Jessica nodded in thanks and poured herself a cup. While stirring in some milk, Jessica asked, ¡°Alright, what¡¯s the issue of the day?¡± All traces of the subservient facade were gone, and the woman looked like she was just joining a friend for a chat. Heleema smiled and replied, ¡°Dustin and Francis¡­ They¡¯re acting odd. It¡¯s making my skin itch, and I can¡¯t figure out why.¡± Jessica cocked her head to the side with a frown and said, ¡°Is this about all the attention they¡¯ve been giving you? I would have thought you¡¯d have liked it? It¡¯s only been what, a day or two? They¡¯re probably just trying to get you pregnant with a new heir. You do need at least one, you know. Which reminds me, after dealing with Derek, Guard Stephens reported no problems and should be back by the 12th. He said they can shorten the time-frame if you¡¯d like, but I told them not to push it, and to just focus on returning safely.¡± Nodding at the information, Heleema replied, ¡°That¡¯s fine. There is no immediate need for them. You made the right call. Although I¡¯m surprised you didn¡¯t let me know the moment you found out?¡± Her last sentence spoken as though it were a question. Shrugging, Jessica replied, ¡°I figured you¡¯d be occupied with your consorts. The news was good, so there was no issue with waiting for the morning to report the success. It¡¯s not like Derek would be less dead if you didn¡¯t hear about it immediately.¡± Snorting in amusement at the dark joke, Heleema replied with no heat in her voice, ¡°Easy Jessica, he was still my son after all. We should at least show a modicum of respect for the late Cosgrave heir.¡± Holding up her cup of coffee as if toasting the deceased young man, Jessica replied with a slight hint of mockery, ¡°Of course, my lord.¡± Tapping her finger on her chin, Heleema returned to the subject at hand, ¡°Now, about those two idiots. They have been sticking to me like limpets since former Lord Blackwood¡¯s execution¡­ wait, no it started after I refused to let Deidre escape and flee the city. That¡¯s when they started acting like children rather than the competent men I¡¯ve known for years.¡± Jessica played her part as a conversation partner and asked the obvious question. ¡°So why would your decision to execute Deidre, their daughter, cause them to start acting like horny teenagers? Are you sure it¡¯s not just them wanting to fill the heir slot?¡± She asked with a dirty grin. After giving Jessica a mock glare, Heleema looked out the windows and sipped her coffee. ¡°No. I¡¯m feeling there is more to it. It¡¯s not just sex they want. It¡¯s almost as if they''re courting me or something. Do they really think I¡¯ll finally marry them? Why? I would gain very little, their consort agreements already have the provisions in place. Perhaps they read the transcripts from the arbitration meeting in the council hall, and are now worried about their positions. After all, I no longer need their houses behind me. I have plenty of support, and to be honest, they no longer serve the purpose they once did. I¡¯ve spent years spreading my will through Dorchester, and nothing short of a harsh, bloody, noble war will see House Cosgrave fall. At least not now that my idiotic children are no longer an issue.¡± Jessica asked innocently, ¡°So maybe they¡¯re afraid you¡¯ll just get rid of them. Being a consort to the city-seat didn¡¯t do much good for former Lord Blackwood.¡± Heleema replied quickly, ¡°I couldn¡¯t even if I wanted to, the consort contracts with their houses forbid any dissolution of the relationship for at least 250 years. If I wanted to kill them, I¡¯d have to find a reason that wouldn¡¯t bring the Tower of Law down on my head. As long as they don¡¯t do something idiotic like Terrance did, they shouldn¡¯t be worried about -¡± If you encounter this story on Amazon, note that it''s taken without permission from the author. Report it. Lord Cosgrave shot forward in her chair, cutting herself off abruptly. Her feet dropped off her desk, and she spilled her coffee all over herself. But even as the steaming liquid made her thighs tingle, she furrowed her brow in thought. Jessica set down her coffee, a worried look on her face. ¡°What is it? You realized something significant, haven¡¯t you?¡± Turning her head to look at her aide, Lord Cosgrave said icily, ¡°Get me a copy of the consort agreements I signed with Houses Mosgrave and Howard. You¡¯ll have to go to the keep¡¯s isolated hub. The records will be under House Cosgrave¡¯s hereditary licenses. Use my override authority. Make sure no one knows what you¡¯re doing.¡± Jessica stood up, her face taking on the mask of an aide once again. ¡°Right away, my lord. I¡¯ll return as soon as I have them.¡± Then turned and quickly glided her way out of the office. A devious smile graced Lord Cosgrave¡¯s face as she looked out her windows onto the city¡¯s skyline. ¡®If I¡¯m right, then House Cosgrave will once again be without anchors. My rule will finally be unencumbered by the past. No more percentage payments to useless allies. Those two idiots may have their charms, in the bedroom and out, but keeping them around isn¡¯t worth how much I¡¯m paying their relatives. Oh, Heleema, you¡¯re one clever girl aren¡¯t you,¡¯ she congratulated herself. ----- Putting aside his self-recriminations, he asked, ¡°OK. So, is my essence-shield active now?¡± Nick kept staring at Nero, evaluating his face as if he were looking for something. ¡°You pull back your center?¡± ¡°Yes,¡± Nero replied. ¡°Shield still active?¡± asked Nick. ¡°Yup,¡± replied Nero. ¡°Realize how dumb that question was?¡± asked Nick. Breaking the staring contest they had going on, Nero turned away and shook his limbs a little to release the tension. ¡°Yeah, I just wanted to make sure. How does the shield look? You see any problems?¡± Nero asked with some curiosity. Nick turned away, returning to his task of collecting the ward stones. ¡°Nero, it looks the same as it did before. At most, all anyone would be able to tell is that you have a condensed field active around you. And even then, they would have to be relatively skilled mages to notice that. You¡¯re the only one who can tell if your essence-shield is up.¡± Nero nodded, doing his best to maintain the shield over his essence layer. ¡°How long will it last without me putting in more center?¡± Nick shrugged, ¡°No idea. Everyone is different. How much essence did you use to make it? How well are you maintaining its identity? Has it been saving you from damage? There are too many factors to consider. You¡¯ll just have to practice. The hard part is getting used to casting it. And the even harder part is getting used to maintaining it. You¡¯re going to be bleeding center all day if you try and keep it up. Even with your center being abnormally large for your level, your control needs a lot of improvement. There is a reason Sergeant Howard had you running through the elemental wheel so much. The man knows how to get someone like you to focus on learning control. It¡¯s imperative that you learn how to partition your mind. There are many ways to increase your -¡± Nero had no idea what Nick meant by that, and he really didn¡¯t want to know. So, he ignored it. He¡¯d been being a better man for a while now, and he wasn¡¯t capable of keeping it up much longer. For the time being, he¡¯d just focus on trying to maintain his shield and ignoring everything else. Nick¡¯s lecture on mental skills and the dangers of mental stress were not high on his list of priorities. ¡°Nero? Are you listening?¡± asked Nick, pausing in his trek along the outskirts of their small camp, to look over his should at Nero. Looking up, Nero saw Nick¡¯s frowning face, and replied easily, ¡°Yup. Focus. Got it. Carry on, we still have 2 more ward stones to collect.¡± ¡°Three Nero. Three more stones.¡± Nick said. Smiling, Nero met Nick¡¯s glare and replied, ¡°Yup, that¡¯s what I said. Three stones. Chop Chop, the sergeant¡¯s waiting.¡± Nick shook his head in exasperation, and started walking again. Nero smiled as he heard Nick mutter, ¡°Little bastard should thank the gods I showed him how to activate his shield. With a personality like that he¡¯s going to be relying on it often enough.¡± Nero felt his shield holding steady in his mind, along with the pride at finally having shored up something that had been bothering him for a while. Looking at his friend¡¯s back, he said, ¡°Hey, Nick?¡± Tiredly, Nick replied, ¡°Yes, Nero?¡± ¡°Seriously man. Thanks for helping me out. I really appreciate it. If you ever need anything, I¡¯ll be there to repay the favor,¡± Nero said, his voice devoid of the usual undertone of sarcasm. Nick smiled and replied, ¡°No favors here, Nero. You¡¯ve had my friendship since you introduced me to ¡®the grind¡¯.¡± Nero stumbled, the reminder of the first time he had met Nick causing him to miss a step. He recalled Nick loving the phrase, ¡®respect the grind¡¯, and all that it implied. ¡®Translation magic for the win, I guess,¡¯ Nero thought to himself. Not to be outdone, Nero replied, ¡°And you¡¯ve had mine since you agreed to shout ¡®science¡¯ in your lab while performing unauthorized medical tests on me. You¡¯re my kind of guy, Nick Salvatore. And ours will be a friendship for the ages." Nick snorted and replied, ¡°I¡¯d settle for our friendship leading us back to a good meal and a shower. I blame you for getting Vera interested in the nobility again.¡± Nero shrugged, ¡°Friend¡¯s wives and their best friends¡­ a complicated relationship if there ever was one.¡± Nick stopped in his tracks, and Nero almost walked into his back. Looking up at his friends frowning face, Nero asked, ¡°What? By relationship, I just meant that husbands always worry about their best friend and their wives talking. It¡¯s common knowledge. That¡¯s all I meant, I swear.¡± Nick gave Nero a blank look, and replied, ¡°Nero, I just collected the last of the ward stones. If you want to court Vera, be my guest. But I¡¯ll warn you, if you think she runs your life now, just wait until you sign a consort contract. She¡¯ll have you on a bathroom schedule within a week.¡± Nero sputtered, ¡°What? No, that¡¯s not what I meant¡­ Wait? A bathroom schedule? Seriously?¡± Nick smiled, then walked off back to the camp and the rest of their companions, leaving Nero to think about what Vera would be like as a partner. He knew the young man only thought of her as a mother figure, but it was fun to screw with his head regardless. ¡®Maybe I¡¯ve been spending too much time with Nero,¡¯ he wondered. Chapter 125 - Magical ADHD. The bustle of the city was a pleasant backdrop to her morning. Mage-adept Newbanks walked calmly through the streets, listening to the chatter of citizens going about their day. Stall owners calling out their deals of the day, parents scolding their children for running off. Everything blending together into a beautiful melody reminding her of what she had dedicated herself to protecting. Arriving at the Tower of Magic, she walked through the large gate while nodding to the guards and novice mages manning the entry counter. She hadn¡¯t been in Dorchester long, but her psychic signature was registered, and by now everyone could recognize her on sight. After all, for all intents and purposes, she was the acting court mage, despite having only met the leadership council twice. Ostensibly, she had come to Dorchester for the opportunity to work with Arch-mage Jennings and to be where the action was at. The region was currently undergoing a density shift, and the scuttle-but around Hennings made the place seem like it was rife with political intrigue and danger. Using that perception as a smoke-screen, she had forced herself into position and no one questioned her motives. Stepping into an elevator, she nodded to the two young mages who were obviously intimidated to be sharing an elevator with her. She kept her features blank, letting them fidget without paying any attention to them. She had more important things on her mind at the moment. Since arriving in Dorchester, she had several tasks which needed to be done with utmost secrecy. All of which she had performed to perfection. Now, it was finally time to report in. Who knew what new orders she would receive? More random tasks which she would only understand after they were accomplished? Perhaps she would be eliminating threats to Oglivarch more directly. The door to the elevator opened, and the two young mages quickly departed, leaving her alone in the elevator. She watched the doors close, maintaining her mask of indifference. When the doors opened again, she walked out of the elevator into a stone corridor reserved for the most powerful mages in the city. Making her way to her office, she idly cast a perception spell to see if anyone was paying attention to her at the moment. She was powerful, but being able to sense an observer was more than she could handle without aid. She maintained the spell, carefully studying the essence echos while she opened her office door. After closing and locking it, she closed her eyes and focused. Through her link, she activated the privacy settings. Feeling the flows envelope the room in wards, she let her essence field expand, scouring the room for anything out of place. After confirming she was alone, and isolated, she walked to the wall. Reaching out, she removed a painting and placed her hand on the stone. Delicately, she altered the essence flows, revealing a hidden shelf inside the wall. She pulled out an intricately designed communication orb. Its diameter was nearly a foot, and thin designs in mithril filigree were wrapped around the dark crystal. She carefully placed it on her desk, linking it to the relays camouflaged as pen holders. The relays were in turn connected to a hidden power generator she had personally installed under the floor. Weeks of effort had led to this moment. Hours of clandestine work to make sure everything was in place, and ready. Mentally checking the time, she stood in place, frozen. She waited patiently for the correct time to arrive, then leaned forward and held her hand over the orb. The essence flowed smoothly, and she felt the orb activate. As it reached out for its twin, she took 3 large steps back, and waited. In front of the orb, a scry window winked into existence, the image expanding until it reached all the way to the walls and the ceiling. It looked like a pane of glass, cutting the room in half, shimmering and smokey. The image stabilized, and she could see the majestic room she was now connected to. She felt her heart lurch, and she knelt quickly. Holding her right hand to her chest, she lowered her head and said, ¡°Greetings, sire. I am proud to announce that all tasks were completed as requested. I am eager to get started on my next assignment. What would you have of me, my king?¡± King Oliver Oglivarch looked at the kneeling woman with a slight, but gentle, smile on his face. He replied, ¡°Rise, you have done well, adept. Take heart in knowing that your actions have significantly altered the fate of Dorchester. The likelihood of the city falling has dropped considerably. But there is still more to do. Are you prepared to follow this path to wherever it may lead? Not everyone has the constitution to become a populator. The demands are harsh, the tasks are without reward, and the only comfort you will have is knowing that the kingdom exists because people like you are working in secret to ensure it. It will be decades of sacrifice, and you may not ever succeed in earning your armor.¡± Standing up, Mage-adept Catherine Newbanks¡¯ face lost its mask. Her eyes were hard, devoid of fear and indecision. Her voice was firm and confident as she replied, ¡°I am, my king. I need no laurels or accolades. My path is wide and clear. I will be a populator, whether in a hundred years or a thousand. I will do everything in my power to make sure Oglivarch does not suffer while it waits for me to be ready.¡± The king smiled at the young woman, her fervent desire to improve herself warmed his heart. ¡°Very well, adept. I doubt I¡¯ll still be on this plane when you do, but know that I will always be watching. For now, let¡¯s focus on the tasks at hand. Tell me how each of your assignments went, I watched what I could, but I cannot always be paying attention. So, from the beginning, tell me everything.¡± Nodding firmly, she replied, ¡°Yes, my king. As you know, when last we spoke, it was at the dinner with my parents and the queen at the palace. After receiving your orders, I made my way immediately to the Hennings Tower of Magic. There I did as we discussed and maneuvered myself into the position here in Dorchester. As ordered, I didn¡¯t kill the mage who was supposed to take up the position of court mage.¡± She continued speaking for some time, all the while the king listened intently. Occasionally asking questions and causing her to mentally relive moments to see what she had missed. The entire time, she marveled at the king¡¯s attention to detail. She was surprised at what he knew, and what he had missed. Rather than shake her faith in him, it ensured it. The kingdom was safe in his hands, he would make sure of it. Eventually, she reached the end of her story, and the king nodded in silence, rubbing his chin in thought. ¡°Good,¡± he said. ¡°Everything seems to be progressing within acceptable standards of deviation. Now, how much do you know about the mountain abutting the city?¡± Stolen story; please report. Confused at the direction of the conversation, she replied, ¡°Not much, sire. Why?¡± The king smiled, and replied, ¡°Well, here is what¡¯s most likely going to happen, and how we are going to stop it.¡± He went on to detail what he expected to happen, and how he wanted her to deal with it. As the king spoke, Mage-adept Newbanks listened closely. She had a lot of work to do, and even more ensuring no one knew about it. ----- Their speed wasn¡¯t much slower than normal, despite the group now being led by a steel clad Sergeant Wesker. Nero caught himself constantly glancing at the man¡¯s back, he couldn¡¯t help it. For some reason, he was having trouble with the idea of a man in full plate wearing a backpack. To him, Wesker looked so ridiculous it was distracting. In fact, everything seemed to be distracting him. He tried to keep focused on his assigned area of the forest, but it was harder than it should be. Over the past week, he¡¯d gotten used to scanning his side of the forest as they traveled, but now it was like everything pulled his attention. His mind felt fuzzy, and distracted. It was like he was only half awake, and things kept drawing his eyes. Odd birds, colorful plants, vines which made cool patterns, even picturesque shafts of sunlight distracted him from his duty. His psychic field wasn¡¯t any better. Worse yet, the longer he maintained his shield, the harder it was to hold it together. And every time his focus wavered, the shield became a little less stable. He felt like he was trying to juggle multiple balls while doing math, and every time he got a problem wrong, he dropped a ball but had to throw the remaining balls higher, upping the difficulty. Despite the problems, he soldiered on admirably. The group made their way back toward where they¡¯d fought the mob, the sergeant eager for some payback. As they walked, Nero listened to them planning the upcoming engagement. He was too distracted to contribute, but he did at least listen as best he could. Nick¡¯s responsibility was to put up another defensive wall the moment the mob was sighted, providing a safe place for the group to defend. This time however, he wouldn¡¯t make an opening for Wesker to defend. Instead, Wesker would rush forward and confront the mob head on while the rest of the group hid behind the walls, defending Rose as she attacked from range. Nero didn¡¯t understand what Wesker planned to do exactly, but he was really too distracted to care. The only positive was that his center wasn¡¯t being wasted. Apparently, after infusing a shield with center, the only upkeep was mental. That is until the caster needed to recharge it. Unfortunately, the longer Nero held the shield, the more center seemed to leak out of it. It was like running with a leaky bucket. Time passed as Nero kept pace with the group, doing his best not to be a burden. He couldn¡¯t tell if anyone was noticing his stumbling, but he didn¡¯t have the spare brainpower to care. The more time passed, the worse his attention span became. ¡°Contact left!¡± he heard, pulling his attention from the butterfly that had been distracting him. Looking around, he saw the edge of the mob running at them along the forest floor. They hopped over logs, dodged trees, their little maws bared to show their teeth. The moment the mob realized it had been spotted, the entire swarm of dogs started snarling and barking in a cacophony of irritating noises. Nero stumbled to a stop, staring blankly at the oncoming enemies. He felt Nick move past him on his right, and Nero dumbly stared at his friend¡¯s back. His mushy brain wondered, ¡®Hey, Nick hasn¡¯t had a haircut since I met him, has he? But it looks the same as it always has¡­ what¡¯s up with that?¡¯ Standing there, Nero reached up and gently grabbed some of his own hair. Holding it up away from his head, he tried to measure how long it was at the moment. The gravity of the situation was completely lost on him. As Wesker charged forward to confront the mob, mud-walls rose up to surround their small group. This time, Nick had made a large circle with them in the middle. Meanwhile the sergeant would confront the mob out in the open. Nero didn¡¯t pull his sword, or even pull a weapon from his personal space, he just stared blankly at the excitement happening all around him. That was until he felt a ¡®thud¡¯ on the back of his head. Like ears popping, reality slammed into him at full force, dropping him to his knees. His essence-shield shattered like glass, causing a spike in his brain that brought tears to his eyes. The sounds of the forest gained substance, and the barking and snarling of the mob once again had meaning. The incessant ¡®thwip¡¯ of Rose¡¯s arrows, along with the resultant yelps of pain brought forth by Cathleen¡¯s spear cracking skulls, hit him all at once. It all happened in a second, everything becoming clear as a bell. Nero heard an amused Nick speak up from his right, ¡°Snap out of it, Nero. Practice partitioning your mind later, we¡¯re in combat now. How about you join us for a bit.¡± Struggling to his feet, Nero drew his sword and looked around. Nick had his own rapier out, covering one side of the 4ft mud wall, which was solidly built and maybe a foot thick. The dogs had very little chance of getting over it, and Nick barely had anything to do. Turning to his left, he saw Cathleen with her spear over her head, stabbing downward over the wall, causing death and destruction as if she were a machine. Stab, pull back, stab, pull back, over and over again. All the while, Rose stood in the middle firing arrows into the mob which now surrounded their little oasis. Turning back to the area of the wall he was standing right next to, he saw tens of paws clawing at the outside edge of the wall. Considering he was only a little over 5ft tall, he was barely able to see over the wall. As a result, he was only able to stare straight out into the forest. It did however give him enough of a view to see Sergeant Wesker ripping apart dogs while dual wielding axes like a boss. Yet, as fast as the man killed them, they vanished into smoke around him forming more of the little monsters just as quickly. As his mind cleared, Nero shook his head fiercely, forcing his brain to start working again. His psychic field wasn¡¯t active, and the lack of sensory input caused the world to feel like a movie, lacking that little something he had gotten used to with reality. The condensed essence he usually had wrapped around him was gone as well, making him feel a little naked. Not being able to feel his companions subtle emotions made them all feel a little unreal. Realizing what was missing, he prioritized opening up his mind, and his field spread out through the surrounding either. Luckily, there were no after effects of whatever had been going on in his head. At first, the mob¡¯s field caused everything to be blurry, but Nero had plenty of practice learning how to compensate. A second or two later, and his field adjusted to ignore the interference. The fight became clear, and he felt like himself once again. Chapter 126 - I cant stay mad at you. Kendra Sterling was not cut out for this sort of thing. She was meant to be in a lab, studying data and moving up the political ladder of Center-Research. If she wanted to waste her days walking around in filth, she would have never left the farm. Reaching out a hand to steady herself against the wall, she angled her chest-lamp toward her feet and lifted up a boot to see what she had just stepped in. The gesture was futile, because in the dimly lit corridor she couldn¡¯t tell much more than whatever it was smelled awful and was extremely sticky. Grimacing in irritation, she angrily scraped her boot across the floor, trying to remove what she had decided to pretend was glue. ¡°Researcher Sterling, what¡¯s the problem?¡± asked her team leader, Sergeant Fornton. The woman¡¯s voice was harsher than usual, and there was an undertone that implied she was running out of patience with Kendra. Quickly attempting to imitate a soldier standing attention, Kendra replied, ¡°Nothing, Sergeant. No problems here.¡± Kendra met the sergeant¡¯s glare with the smile she had perfected over years, honed in conference rooms, labs, and politically charged parties. Unfortunately, the sergeant seemed immune to her tactics, and only replied with a grunt, before turning around and returning to the front of the party heading down the expansive underground hallway. The lights from the soldier¡¯s chest-lamps and the civil engineer¡¯s shoulder mounted essence bulbs made the shadows dance across the walls, hopefully hiding her face as her smile fell. She felt a hand on her shoulder, and she turned to see David attempting to smile reassuringly. ¡°We¡¯re almost at the power room. We¡¯ll be out of here in no time,¡± he said cheerily, or at least as cheerily as he could. The overly serious man wasn¡¯t exactly known for his personality. She nodded in thanks, and together they took up their positions in the large formation. She and David were the only researchers on the team, and they were told to stick close to the engineers. ¡°Why are we even here?¡± she griped quietly. ¡°The first three levels are still within the city¡¯s wards, there shouldn¡¯t be any essence disturbances to examine until we hit at least level four.¡± David replied simply, without any judgment or heat in his voice. ¡°Because we were ordered to be. It¡¯s a great honor to represent the Center. The general requested the best, and we¡¯re it.¡± Both David and Kendra had worked directly under Researcher Nicholas Salvatore, now known as Lord Salvatore-Verena, when he was still the head of Dorchester¡¯s Center-Research for gate 15. If that wasn¡¯t enough, they were also credited for the discovery of the density shift happening outside the walls. Granted, it was Lord Salvatore-Verena who actually discovered it, but they were the ones entrusted to do the mathematical projections. Their work on essence flow tracking had been the foundation for the paper. Out of all the researchers in Dorchester, they were the ones with the strongest background in essence flow analysis. It¡¯s why Nick had chosen them for his lab, or at least that¡¯s what everyone believed. In reality, Nick chose them because Kendra was good at handling politics which he was terrible at, and David was good at dealing with detail oriented tasks which he constantly ignored. After Lord Salvatore-Verena left the Center to found his new house, they¡¯d been pushed to the forefront of the density shift preparations. Over the past few weeks they¡¯ve been bounced around Dorchester, briefing army command centers, providing threat analysis to the nobles and trade guilds. And now, they were assigned to ¡®Mountain Team #5¡¯ in order to provide on-site evaluations of the mountain city currently being reopened. Kendra shot David a glare, and said, ¡°The only reason we¡¯re here is because no one knows what to do with us. Nick leaving so abruptly, after having discovered the density shift, has Center-Research scrambling. The general wants answers, and they figure since we no longer have a department head, we won¡¯t have any current research projects to interrupt. They pawned us off on the military, and the military doesn¡¯t know how to make use of us. So now we¡¯re here, in the dark, with backpacks full of testing equipment we don¡¯t know how to use, heading into a sealed off section of the city to see if there is anything waiting for us on the other side of those doors.¡± Her voice was full of sarcasm and mockery, letting David know exactly how she felt about the current situation. David looked around to see grinning civil engineers pretending not to listen in on their conversation. He wasn¡¯t oblivious to their complicated professional status, but there wasn¡¯t much he could do about it either. His eyes wandered along the massive hallway. It was probably 50ft wide, and the intricately carved stone walls and doors lining the walls were probably very beautiful at one point in time. Despite the low-light conditions, David could see the deactivated essence globes hanging from the decorative ceiling. ¡°Well, do you regret not taking Vera up on her offer? You could be sitting in an office right now, helping her do paperwork for whatever scheme she is currently hatching. Where is your sense of adventure? You''re a researcher for heaven¡¯s sake. This part of the city hasn¡¯t seen a human presence for hundreds of years. Who knows what we¡¯ll find when we turn the power back on,¡± he said without any enthusiasm in his voice. For him, that was as rousing as he could be. Kendra sniffed at his words, deciding to ignore him. There was no point talking to the man. Ever since Nick had left, he¡¯d been even duller than usual. Complaining to him was completely unsatisfying. From the front of the large party they heard, ¡°This is it. Engineers, get up here and get these doors open.¡± The 10 engineers which had been surrounding them all hopped to it, and quickly moved toward Sergeant Fornton¡¯s voice. ----- He could see the surrounding essence filled with the mob¡¯s psychic presence. But he could tell that it was shrinking rapidly. As the edges collapsed, the center of the mob became much easier to see. Unsurprisingly, it was exactly on top of the sergeant, who was ignoring the mob¡¯s pathetically ineffective attacks against his armored legs. There must have been 10 dogs fighting in a pile at his feet, gnawing fruitlessly on his steel clad calves and thighs. The entire fight had only been going for about two minutes from the first sighting, and Nero could tell the mob¡¯s essence field had already shrunk by more than half. Wesker¡¯s massacre in the middle was almost a little sad. The poor mob had no defense against him, and he exploited that fact ruthlessly. Every swing of his axes ripped through multiple dogs, and the sounds were as awful as you¡¯d expect them to be. Behind their walls, Nero and the others were perfectly safe as the mob¡¯s dogs weren¡¯t capable of a 4ft vertical leap. So, as Nero had nothing to do, he just watched the mob¡¯s psychic field shrink while wondering what had been going on with his brain for the past ¡­ hour? 30 minutes? However long it took for them to find the mob again. Before he came to any conclusions, Nero saw the mob¡¯s essence field change abruptly. One second, it was distributed and omnipresent, the next, it converged on its center gaining mass as it collapsed. Nero heard Nick shout, ¡°It¡¯s manifesting! Wall¡¯s coming down, get ready.¡± The next second, the earthen wall blocking his view collapsed into rubble, and Nero got his first clear look at his surroundings. The forest floor around where the wall used to be was ripped apart by mob¡¯s paws, but there were no bodies anywhere. Looking up, he saw the remaining dogs evaporating like smoke. And for the first time, Nero got to see what a spawning monster looked like. This tale has been unlawfully lifted from Royal Road; report any instances of this story if found elsewhere. Wesker took a few steps back toward the group while switching out one of his axes for a shield. Nero was impressed at the demonstration of his proficiency at controlling his personal space. Nero watched with both his psychic senses and his eyes as essence gathered around the mob¡¯s center and a giant version of the mob¡¯s dog appeared like one of those toy sponges that got bigger when you put them in water. It started out so small it couldn¡¯t be seen with the naked eye, then exploded into existence mid-snarl. Had it not been so disturbing, it would have been trippy. As if a starting gun had gone off, everyone exploded into action. Sergeant Wesker rushed forward slamming his shield into the face of the 6 ft tall overgrown dog, knocking its head to the side and interrupting the surprisingly baritone yapping. One of Cathleen¡¯s spears launched from over Nero¡¯s shoulder, and he could only assume the woman was behind him. A fresh stream of arrows from Rose started embedding themselves into the beasts side, while globs of burning magma from Nick launched toward the rear legs. The psychic presence of the mob had changed to what Nero considered standard for a monster in the wilds. It wasn¡¯t overly large, or dense. If anything, it looked a little undersized considering the height of the dog currently yelping in pain. Deciding to finally contribute something, Nero lifted his off hand and stamped one of his go-to spells into existence. The ¡®stone spike¡¯ spell fired, and Nero had no problems imbuing his center into the constructs. Holding the spell-form together, he launched spikes one after another, slowly increasing how much center with each cast. By the third launch, his spikes began making contact with the giant chihuahua. They hammered into its side like railroad spikes, making the beast stumble. Four launches later, the monster collapsed in a heap. ¡®Well, the mob¡¯s ¡®final form¡¯ was pretty pathetic. Damn thing didn¡¯t even have time to do anything other than growl a bit,¡¯ Nero thought with some confusion. ¡°Um¡­ that¡¯s it?¡± Nero asked. The group walked over to the monster, while Sergeant Wesker pulled out his collection rod to harvest the essence crystal from the corpse. Nero felt Cathleen walk past him to collect her spears. As she reached down to rip her spear from the monster, she said, ¡°Mobs like this really aren¡¯t that hard to deal with if you are prepared for them. The problem is when you don¡¯t have a heavy. Without full plate, no one could get close enough to the mob¡¯s center to disrupt it enough to cause it to manifest. Remember that every victory is earned through preparation. No obstacle exists without a path to conquer it.¡± Nero stared at Cathleen, not bothering to respond. He¡¯d gotten used to her turning everything into a spiritual lesson. Turning to the rest of the group, he looked at Nick and asked, ¡°Okay, after that enlightening response, I¡¯m going to change my question. Nick, what the hell happened with my head? Not that I don¡¯t appreciate the opportunity to experience life through the lens of stupidity, but seriously man, what the hell?¡± Nick smiled at Nero with a mouth full of teeth, clearly enjoying the moment. ¡°Not so easy keeping a shield up, is it? You just experienced what it feels like to overdraw your mind. To put it another way, you were trying to pay attention to too many things at once, and as a result, your cognitive functions suffered a reduction in scope. You need to learn to partition your mind better in order to let one part of your mind focus all its efforts on a task, while the majority of your mind can continue to function normally.¡± Rose was keeping an eye on the surrounding forest, but didn¡¯t hesitate to chime in. ¡°I thought you had to be in the 30¡¯s before you could learn mental automation?¡± Nero looked at Nick in confusion, so much of what the man just said sounded like gibberish to him. Nick met Nero¡¯s eyes, and sent out a connection request. Nero accepted and immediately heard Nick¡¯s voice in his head say, ¡°Nero, don¡¯t ask about this right now. We really can¡¯t get into this if you want your secrets to stay secret.¡± Then Nick closed the connection as abruptly as he¡¯d opened it. Answering Rose, Nick said, ¡°Mental partitioning is a complicated subject. There are many facets to it, and there are countless uses and ranges of techniques. Nero¡¯s essence shield is held together by his mind, and when he puts too much focus on it, there can be some annoying issues he has to deal with. It¡¯s not that large a concern.¡± Rose nodded, but clearly realized she was missing something. Nero didn¡¯t mind putting off the conversation, as he had plenty of other questions he wanted answered at the moment. ¡°Let¡¯s talk about the mob then. I saw its essence field change completely, how the hell is that possible? I thought identities were powered by a soul. Aren¡¯t souls and identities like¡­ hard to change?¡± Wesker stood up from the corpse, which by this point had begun to break down in earnest. ¡°Come over here and take a look. You¡¯ll understand what happened after you take a look at the crystals,¡± he said loudly. Curious, Nero walked over to the sergeant and looked where the man was pointing. On the ground, there was a small pile of essence crystals. Each of them were small, almost the size of tiny marbles. They weren¡¯t round, or gem-like, if anything, they looked like little puzzle pieces with edges that stuck out randomly. Nero looked at the sergeant and said, ¡°I don¡¯t get it. What am I supposed to be seeing? All of those came out of that big ass dog? How does that work?¡± Sergeant Wesker smiled a little. Even though the young lord in front of him was a pain in the ass, he couldn¡¯t stop himself from liking his straight-forward attitude sometimes. ¡°Here, take a closer look,¡± said the sergeant, while bending back down and waving Nero over. Nero bent down next to the man and watched what he was doing. The sergeant removed his armored gloves and started fitting the little essence crystals together. It took a few minutes, and Nero¡¯s attention didn¡¯t waver in the slightest. It was incredibly interesting to see the man quickly putting together what looked like one of those interlocking 3d puzzles for mental training. By the time he was done, the little crystals had come together to make a large essence crystal. Nero reached out carefully, taking the completed crystal from the sergeant¡¯s hands. While he looked closely at it, he said, ¡°So these are all the little bits of potential from the individual dogs that got caught up in the mob. They came together to become this big dog when the mob lost enough juice to keep going. That¡¯s pretty damn cool,¡± he said in appreciation. The moment he finished speaking, he fumbled the essence crystal, and the little pieces all fell apart, slipping through his fingers. Frowning at the broken puzzle, he said, ¡°So, is there a point to putting it back together? Or was that just an interesting thing about mob crystals that I got to see?¡± After putting his armored gauntlets back on, the sergeant stood up with a chuckle. ¡°No, there¡¯s no need to keep it together. Just store the crystals however you want. It¡¯s just an interesting visual representation of how mobs become mobs.¡± Nero collected the little essence crystals, throwing them into his bag. He met the sergeant¡¯s eyes and said, ¡°Thanks for showing me. I tend to learn better when I have something to look at. Without seeing this, I don¡¯t think I¡¯d understand the explanation I¡¯m sure Nick is dying to tell me,¡± he said with some gratitude in his voice. ¡°Hey!¡± Nick said from a few feet away. He had been standing next to Cathleen, chatting with the woman while keeping watch on the forest. Nero looked up at his friend and asked, ¡°Am I wrong? Tell me you weren¡¯t waiting for me to ask about what the sarge was showing me?¡± Nick rolled his eyes and replied, ¡°You know, you ask a lot of questions for someone who doesn¡¯t want answers.¡± Nero stood up, and dusted off his pants. He started to scowl a little while saying, ¡°Nick, stop talking to her. She¡¯s going to infect you with her riddles.¡± Looking over at Cathleen, he continued, ¡°And Cathleen, please be careful with him. He¡¯s very impressionable. I don¡¯t think Vera will like it if he returns to Dorchester and starts talking like he¡¯s been in a monastery studying zen koans or whatever.¡± Cathleen took a step forward, uncharacteristically interested in what Nero was saying. ¡°That word, ¡®zen¡¯, I like it. It feels like oneness, or meditative intuition. What language is that?¡± Nero looked at her with some surprise. Taking a second to choose his words carefully, he replied, ¡°It¡¯s from the east¡­ the far east. I can tell you all about it later. For now, we should get going. We have places to be after all. And if I¡¯m not mistaken, we should be near the spawn point that birthed the mob we just wasted half the morning dealing with.¡± Cathleen¡¯s eyes narrowed, but she didn¡¯t pursue the subject any further. Sergeant Wesker was holding his direction finder, and said, ¡°It shouldn¡¯t be far now. I¡¯m guessing there might be more mobs around, so keep an eye out. Verena, make sure you get some crowd control up as soon as possible. Let¡¯s get moving.¡± Nero watched the sergeant return his direction finder to a pouch on his belt. He still found it weird to see a man in full plate armor wearing a backpack suited for hiking. Soon enough, they were well on their way again, heading toward Nero¡¯s first opportunity to see a spawn-point. After seeing how easily they dealt with the mob after knowing what they were dealing with, Nero was excited knock this one out quickly before heading off to their next target. Stumbling over his feet at the thought, his brows furrowed. ¡®A group that heads off into danger, expecting an easy fight. Yeah, this is going to turn out just fine,¡¯ he told himself sarcastically. As he walked, he tentatively started rebuilding his mage-armor. ¡®What was that Nick said about partitioning my mind? That sounded important.¡¯ he wondered. Chapter 127 - Running before you walk for beginners. Mike sat on the floor of his cell, his back propped up against the bed, idly flicking his fingers at the wall. Every time his finger lashed out, a small red construct resembling an arc launched across the room. The walls were enchanted and warded, so the only result was the constructs making a pleasant ¡®pish¡¯ as they shattered on contact. Not that it would have mattered, ranged combat wasn¡¯t exactly his specialty. There wasn¡¯t much to do in his cell other than reflect on the choices that led him here. He supposed that was the point. He never should have taken the job. The money was too high for what at the time seemed like an easy score. That should have been enough of a warning for him. He had really let greed cloud his judgment on this one. Though, listening to Heather might have had something to do with it. At least he could take solace in the fact that he didn¡¯t bring Sarah down with him. She was still alive out there¡­ somewhere¡­ probably. Hearing someone fiddling with the large wooden door, he let his hands go limp as he calmly stood up to receive his guests. ¡®Time to see what you¡¯ve gotten yourself into this time, Mike,¡¯ he told himself. A lawbringer he didn¡¯t recognize took half a step into the cell, calmly evaluating him and running their eyes over the small room. Seconds passed as Mike waited for them to finish their inspection. ¡°Michael Harring, you are to be sent to processing. Let¡¯s go,¡± the lawbringer ordered, his voice betraying his ambivalence. Not seeing any reason to argue, Mike followed the lawbringer out of the cell. Entering the hallway, he saw two stern-faced guards waiting patiently. The moment he was within arms reach, the guards took up flanking positions alongside him. While the lawbringer led them through the halls, Mike tried and failed to suppress his worries about what would happen. ¡®Processing¡¯ meant that he was being discharged from the cells, he knew that much. However, he had no idea if he was heading toward his freedom, execution, or something even worse. Before long, he was seated in an office, staring across a desk at another lawbringer he didn¡¯t recognize. This time, it was a young woman who looked exceedingly disinterested in what she was doing. Mike couldn¡¯t help but wonder how many of these little get-togethers she had throughout a typical day? More than she wanted, that was clear enough. He kept his mouth shut and let her go through his file as if he weren¡¯t even in the room. There was nothing to gain from pissing off the person in charge of his immediate future. He watched her uninterested face flip through some papers, occasionally checking boxes or referencing something on her link. After a minute or two, he started looking around the sparse office, searching for anything interesting to look at while he waited for her to finish. When she started talking, his attention snapped to her and he straightened in his seat. ¡°When you were brought in, there were several investigations opened due to your actions in the Eastern Wilds. You, and your team, succeeded in ambushing an extermination team working under the auspices of the military. During which, you killed a potential house head undergoing his trials of nobility, a sergeant of an elite hunter team, and a bodyguard in the employ of a new noble. Even worse, you attempted to assassinate a new noble,¡± said the lawbringer, sounding as if she were reading off a grocery list. Before he could respond, she held up her hand signaling to him that she wasn¡¯t finished. Mike¡¯s mouth snapped shut, and he sagged a little in his chair. Returning her eyes to the pages in front of her, she continued, ¡°These investigations have been closed, and the judgments filed with the Tower of Law. No tribunal will be held, as your guilt isn¡¯t in question. Your conspirators, the ones who hired you, and those you didn¡¯t know existed are presently being dealt with. An appeal was automatically filed and reviewed by the Center Oversight Committee, which found the arbitration agreement valid and the summary judgment was upheld. You have been found guilty on all counts.¡± Mike felt the full weight of the moment press down on him. He knew getting involved with nobles was a bad idea. He could practically hear his father mocking him about his poor choices. ¡®What did you think was going to happen? You tried to kill a new noble, and got caught. You gambled, and you lost,¡¯ he told himself harshly. The lawbringer didn¡¯t give him time to process anything. Blatantly ignoring his agitation, she continued, ¡°While the other conspirators will not escape their justified punishment, your agreement with Lord Walker will be upheld at his request. After you were taken into custody, he emphatically stated that you were to be protected from retribution, and offered a chance at repaying your societal debt.¡± Mike perked up. ¡®Societal debt¡¯? That sounded like one of those work programs through the Center. With those, he¡¯d be able to clear his record. That psychotic little noble actually kept his word! Before he could get too excited, the lawbringer continued on without mercy, ¡°As you were found guilty of one class 5, and several class 4 crimes, you owe 2530 years of service to the governing city of Dorchester. Your citizenry profile has been adjusted to your new status, and you need to pick a path of service before you leave here today. Do you have any questions?¡± Looking up from the file on her desk with a bored look on her face, she stared at Mike, waiting for him to respond. Mike wasn¡¯t exactly familiar with how work programs¡­ worked. So he replied dumbly, ¡°Um. So how am I supposed to pay back 2500 years of service?¡± Blandly, the lawbringer replied, ¡°2530 years. And typically, you sign up for a path or service that you are already familiar with. You were a hunter before you tried your hand at political assassinations, weren¡¯t you?¡± Mike nodded, ¡°Yeah, I ran a team specializing in aberrant eliminations, and resource acquisitions.¡± Reading on this site? This novel is published elsewhere. Support the author by seeking out the original. While Mike was speaking, she pushed a piece of paper across the desk and gestured for him to take a look. ¡°That is a work release contract from the military for hunters to join in a search and clear mission. It¡¯s a combat unit, so you¡¯ll be earning 1 year of service against your debt for every month you put in. Dangerous paths like this have an excellent return on time invested. If you agree, then you¡¯ll be bunked with your team and your assets will be held in escrow by Dorchester for the duration of your service. When the path ends, I recommend you find another front-line assignment if you want a chance to earn your freedom before age creep catches up to you,¡± she said, as if Mike would be an idiot to inquire about any other options. Ever since he was little, Mike had been easily steered toward decisions. He wasn¡¯t what one would call, ¡®strong willed¡¯. So, without much thought, he replied, ¡°OK. So, I go and join this search and clear team, and that¡¯s it? I can work off my time?¡± Sliding a pen across the table, the lawbringer said, ¡°That¡¯s correct. Unless you have some other skill that could be of use, I¡¯d recommend getting started. Fill out this paperwork, and you¡¯ll be with your new team before dinner.¡± Only thirty minutes later, Mike was out on the streets of Dorchester once again. His weapons and gear had been returned, and he was sent on his way with his orders in his hand. Standing outside the Tower of Law, he read through the paperwork. His situation was spelled out clearly. He needed to head immediately to Gate 22¡¯s army command center and report in. Any deviation from his orders would have the guards coming after him and his initial charges reinstated. Serve or die, not much of a choice really. Opening his link, he could see that his profile was currently restricted, and he was listed as a criminal under work release. Sighing, he mind drifted to his former team. The image of their dead bodies laying on the forest floor was seared into his mind. He said to himself, ¡®I¡¯m sorry guys. You were great friends, and even better team-mates. But, I¡¯m still alive, and I plan to stay that way. Wish me luck from whatever afterlife you managed to scam your way into.¡¯ After stashing the file in his personal space, he made his way toward the nearest teleportation platform. Surprisingly, he was feeling pretty good. In a way, it was nice not having to make any decisions for the next couple thousand years. It really took the pressure off. ----- Nero stalked through the forest, keeping his steps light and trying to make as little noise as possible, his eyes and psychic field constantly scanning his designated area. He could feel the rest of the group moving in formation behind Sergeant Wesker. It had been nearly 20 minutes since they had moved on from the fight with the chihuahua-mob and Nero was starting to get extremely fed up with Nick. They¡¯d been communicating through their private connection, and Nick was being decidedly unhelpful. Nero had grown used to Nick¡¯s overly complicated instructions, but this was bordering on useless. With a scowl on his face, he maintained his vigil while he argued with Nick over their connection. ¡°So, you¡¯re saying I need to isolate part of my brain to maintain my constructed essence-shield, which isn¡¯t a mental partition. And the only way to train it to do that is to practice doing it. But in order to do it at all, I¡¯d have to partition my mind. Which you can¡¯t tell me HOW to do, because ¡®task automation¡¯ is the first step which is done by doing it. My mind can train my brain, by THINKING about it. Have I got that right?¡± he asked acidly. Nick¡¯s reply was just as full of frustration as Nero¡¯s. ¡°That¡¯s an oversimplification! Not to mention WRONG! You¡¯re deliberately misunderstanding the principle I¡¯m alluding to. The mind is NOT the brain. The brain is part of the body. When you create a construct, it is the function of the mind to manipulate the essence. It has nothing to do with the brain, except that it uses the brain to do it,¡± he said, as if he were being extremely clear. Nero nearly stopped in place and screamed at the old man, but he managed to hold himself back. Taking several deep breaths, Nero replied, ¡°Nick. I love you like a brother, but if you don¡¯t start making some kind of sense, I¡¯m going to stick my foot so far up your ass that your center will earn itself a boot print.¡± Several seconds passed, as Nick needed some time to process that threat. The tension seemed to bleed out of their psychic connection, and Nick tried to explain it another way, ¡°Alright Nero, let¡¯s set aside the matter of mind partitioning for a moment, and discuss fields in general.¡± Nero, not understanding the subject change, but willing to see where he was going with this, replied, ¡°Sure. Essence fields are a product of the mind interacting with the essence outside our bodies.¡± Nick replied quickly, his voice taking on a tone of patience. ¡°Yes, but not exactly. Fields are much more complicated than that. Remember that your mind is the bridge between your soul and your body. Your body interacts with the physical layer of reality¡­ on this plane of existence. When you affect the world around you, it is through your brain creating a psychic field of cause and effect. Think of a magnet exerting a field on a piece of metal, causing it to move.¡± ¡°Wait! There¡¯s magnets here? Do you guys know about electricity and electrons and that kind of thing? Did I know about that already?¡± Nero asked excitedly. ¡°Nero! Focus¡­ The body is res-,¡± Nick paused, unable to let it go, he said angrily, ¡°What do you mean ¡®There¡¯s magnets here?¡¯ What kind of idiots do you think we are? Of course we know about electromagnetic phenomena. We¡¯re perfectly capable of transmitting energy through a polarized wire, but why would we? Dammit Nero, stop distracting me. What was I saying?¡± he asked, off balance by Nero¡¯s question. Nero smiled, and simply replied, ¡°Fields.¡± ¡°Right,¡± Nick said, then continued on as if Nero hadn¡¯t interrupted him. ¡°So, the body affects the physical layer. The soul is what allows your field to affect the ethereal plane, or essence in general. It¡¯s what you use to interact with the essence all around you. It is also responsible for feeding your mind the sensory information it needs to perceive the world around you. The two aspects of your identity are responsible for forming your essence field. The stronger your body, the stronger your physical aspect. However, your soul works in tandem to create the field. So it is only together that the field is formed, understand?¡± Nero nodded, and replied, ¡°I guess. The soul is like the power source, but the body makes it manifest? What about the mind then?¡± Nick wasn¡¯t willing to correct Nero¡¯s assumptions, as his interpretation was close enough¡­ kind of. ¡°For now, you can think of it that way. The important thing to keep in mind is that a person¡¯s essence field is the result of both their body and soul working together to anchor and interact with the physical and ethereal layers of reality on this plane of existence. Now the mind is responsible for giving that field purpose, and using it to do things. Things like telekinesis, carving spells, and observing essence fields and interacting with them,¡± Nick said, clearly believing that he had summarized the subject well enough for Nero to understand it, almost daring Nero to still claim ignorance. Ignoring Nick¡¯s tone, Nero replied, ¡°OK. So the soul and body build the field, the mind gives it its identity. So what does that have to do with mind partitioning?¡± Nero could feel Nick¡¯s mind suffering some kind of shock. ¡°Um, well, yes. The mind gives the field an identity. That¡¯s an interesting, if crude, way of looking at it. I wonder if -¡± Nick replied, but was interrupted. Sergeant Wesker¡¯s strong voice barked, ¡°Contact Front. Mob incoming. Get the crowd control up.¡± Nero¡¯s head and attention snapped to the front, despite knowing that he was supposed to be focusing on his assignment. He saw a group of over-sized squirrels with giant teeth rushing through the trees and along the forest floor. Nero practically screamed in anger, ¡°They¡¯re squirrels. They can jump. Walls aren¡¯t going to do shit. You know what¡­. Fuck this!¡± Stomping forward, Nero hopped over the walls Nick was raising around the grouping party. Nero had no intention of hiding this time. The mob¡¯s field hadn¡¯t overtaken them yet, and he still had some time to prepare a spell or two. Not to mention that his mage-armor was still up. Although his head felt a little fuzzy, he was well enough to deal with these abominations. ¡®I swear, if one more thing interrupts me learning how to fix my damn mage armor, I¡¯m going to lose it,¡¯ he swore to himself. Grim-faced, he raised his hands out in front of him, and carved the largest spell form he¡¯d ever made. ¡°Smokey promised me¡­ that only I can cause forest fires!¡± he yelled at the pests barreling through the trees. Chapter 128 - Kill it with fire! Specialist Howard had known he was going to hate this assignment. There had been no doubt in his mind, and so far, there had been very little to change his mind. One of his main tasks was to train a promising young mage. They wanted him¡­ a war mage¡­ to personally train some freshly awakened lord to fight with magic. Regardless of how clever the young man turned out to be, it was still just as annoying as he expected it to be. And now, out in the wilds, his worst fears had been confirmed. Being assigned to a permanent position with the elites was a complete waste of his time. Sitting in his chair on the roof of the recently built command post, he had his feet up on his stool. Both the personally made chair, and his chosen stump, had been with him for years. Normally, he¡¯d be using them to recover his center after an exciting battle, but now their noble purpose was being contaminated with stupidity. With his perception field spread out as far as possible, he observed some of the teams dealing with the planar events. His range had increased drastically after several teams completed their assignments, smoothing out the local essence flows. Nevertheless, at this range, his field was still extremely diluted. While it wasn¡¯t capable of any real detail, he was able to track several teams¡¯ progress and observe the local essence flows. A war-mage of his caliber¡­ acting as a monitoring system. The situation was ridiculous. ¡®What did the general expect me to learn from this? How to look like I¡¯m doing something while mentally reading a book?¡¯ he mentally complained. He had tried convincing the Captain to send him out in the field, but the man had refused to see reason. Recalling their latest conversation, Howard grimaced at the memory. The Captain had told him, ¡°Every camp needs a scry-mage, and until command sees fit to assign us one, that¡¯s your assignment. Deal with it. I expect hourly updates, and you WILL notify me immediately if there is anything I should know.¡± Feeling a slight disturbance in his perception field, he turned his attention away from the book he was reading inside his personal space. Howard focused on his perception field, looking for what had caused his mental process to alert him. Finding some new signatures, he narrowed his field on them. From their essence signatures, he could tell the little lord¡¯s team had finally returned to the area. ¡®It¡¯s about time,¡¯ he thought. Apparently, after the excitement of the assassination attempt, command had insisted that Wesker¡¯s team stay within range of the elite¡¯s encampment. The Captain had ordered Howard to report to him immediately when they entered the area. Currently, they were heading toward a blind spot in his field, which meant it would be a pain in the ass to overcome the local essence disturbances. Howard debated whether or not to waste some center scrying on the young lord, but eventually decided that it wasn¡¯t worth the effort. Grunting a little at having his rest disturbed, he stood up and stretched his back. He walked over to the edge of the building, looking for the Captain. Seeing the man ordering around some elites, Howard infused his voice with some essence and shouted, ¡°Hey Captain! Wesker¡¯s team is back in the field. They¡¯re heading toward their first mark. Consider yourself updated.¡± He then turned around and returned to his chair. He was oblivious to the annoyed look the Captain was shooting him, or the uncomfortable atmosphere his antics were causing among the hunters. Even if he¡¯d noticed, he wouldn¡¯t have cared. As far as he was concerned, his place was out there fighting for humanity, not behind walls he wasn¡¯t even defending. He couldn¡¯t even train as he needed to keep his center full in case of an emergency. Putting his feet back up on his stump, he crossed his arms and closed his eyes. ¡®Maybe I¡¯ll get lucky and a horde will show up and assault the camp,¡¯ he thought with some hope, while mentally falling back into his personal space and returning to the book he¡¯d been reading. ----- A veritable wave of 2ft tall squirrels rushed toward them, leaping over bushes, bouncing off trees, and kicking up leaves and dirt. The leading edge of the mob¡¯s essence field was creeping closer by the second. Nero could see the ambient essence in the air quickly falling under its influence. The first of the squirrels were only thirty or forty feet away, he was running out of time. The spell-form ¡®fire-stream¡¯, which he had learned from Specialist Howard, hovered in front of his chest, his hands anchoring it to his center. Through his field, he could see the essence being greedily pulled in to power it. Streams of heat, air, fire, and several other essences he didn¡¯t recognize charged the spell with potential. This was the highest level spell he¡¯d learned from the fire section of the elemental wheel, a pure expression of fire aimed and fueled by the caster. With a scowl full of madness, he unleashed a torrent of flame at the oncoming mob. A two foot wide scorching ray shot out into the forest, heading toward the oncoming wave of vicious little monsters who dared to interfere with his efforts to finally figure out his mage-armor. Upon contact with their powerful essence field, the pillar shrunk and dissipated almost immediately. Yet, Nero wasn¡¯t worried, because it was all part of the plan. He had no intention of pitting his center reserves against the mob¡¯s. Unauthorized duplication: this narrative has been taken without consent. Report sightings. Nero¡¯s focus was sharp as a scalpel, his mind split between the spell, his mage-armor, his senses, and his plan. The moment his spell found the edge of the mob¡¯s essence field, he began angling it down toward the ground. Upon contacting the forest floor, he increased the amount of center he was putting in the construct. He only needed his spell to cause the initial effect¡­ science would take care of the rest. Keeping the spell active, he turned in place, running the bar of condensed flame across the ground. His smile widening in lunacy as he saw the leaves and brush ignite in a glorious conflagration. As if he were painting the forest floor with a brush, he quickly ran the beam of fire in a half circle in front of their party. Barely a few heartbeats later, there was a 4ft deep wall of fire eating into the trees and shrubberies. The kicked up dirt and leaves were doing their part in spreading the destruction. Nero cackled at the sight of the squirrels attempting to jump through the fire. As each little monster passed through the flame wall, their fur ignited and their barks changed from threatening chattering to fearful screeching. Tens of squirrels hit the ground in panic, their charge broken before it began. Feeling the mob¡¯s essence field finally overtake him, he felt the essence charging his spell thin dramatically. Not bothering to try and fight to maintain it, he recaptured what center he could, and pulled out his two swords. While the forest fire spread across the ground, Nero ran his center through his blades, imbuing them with his center. Protected and fueled by his own essence field, the swords ignited with fire, blue flames flickering wildly across the blades. ¡®Did I mean to make them blue?¡¯ he wondered absently, quickly dismissing the thought as irrelevant. Nero saw the squirrels running around in terror, spreading the flames and kicking up more fuel into the air. His fire wall had split the mob in half, and his mad grin grew a little wider every time a new squirrel spawned on top of a fire. Not wanting to give the mob a chance to regroup, he sprang into action. Moving quickly, his swords slashed at anything that came near him, intending to get closer to where the mob¡¯s center seemed to be. Before he even made it 10 feet, the flaming squirrels exploded in puffs of dark smoke. As the smoke from the fire was already getting out of hand, Nero only saw their little burning tails winking out all around him. A few steps later, Nero appeared next to a coughing and hacking Sergeant Wesker. Nero¡¯s face was covered in soot, his flaming swords contrasting the red hue all around them. The sergeant¡¯s visor retreated into the top of his helmet, and Nero could see the man¡¯s wide eyes filled with horror. ¡°Are you insane!¡± he shouted. Before Nero could reply, movement out of the corner of their eyes caused them to turn and see a 10ft squirrel come barreling through the fire wall, its fur covered in flames and its red eyes full of madness. Like a bull rushing out of a burning barn, it ran toward them not even intending to attack. It just wanted away from the fire. Almost as if it were a reflex, Nero dropped to a knee, pointing his burning blades up at the squirrels undercarriage. While Wesker combat rolled to safety, Nero let himself be run over. He could see the head and chest of the gigantic monster pass over his head. His shoulders felt like they were being ripped out their sockets as his blades sank into the underside of the mob. Blood and viscera exploded into existence all around him, and his world turned red. Seconds passed, and the screeching from the burning squirrel went quiet. The stark change from total insanity to silence was off-putting. Nero stood up from his crouch, recapturing the center he had imbued into his blades, feeling the fire flicker out. He turned around to see the back of the giant squirrel, its formerly fluffy tail still burning like a torch. His lungs burned a little due to the smoke, and he looked around to see a scene straight out of a summer blockbuster about California firefighters. ¡®Well, that escalated quickly,¡¯ he thought with some pride. He dismissed one of his swords while sheathing the other on his hip. Deciding to free up some brainpower, he stopped trying to maintain his mage-armor. The strain from trying to focus on it during combat, even if he wasn¡¯t taking any hits, was causing his head to swim. The moment he released his hold, he felt the shield dissipate. Yet, his condensed essence field remained. He was so used to keeping it up, he barely even noticed the strain. With his head a little clearer, he looked over to see Sergeant Wesker pulling a large cylinder out of his personal space. His eyes panned across the forest quickly, looking for the rest of the team. About 10 ft away, he saw a large dome that resembled a door-less igloo. ¡®Well, that¡¯s one way to stop squirrels from jumping over your walls,¡¯ he thought. Realizing he should do something about all this smoke, he turned his attention back to the burning forest. Quickly carving two simple ¡®frost-wave¡¯ spells, he figured this was the perfect time to practice dual-wielding magic. Their purpose was to conjure freezing water vapor and firing it out in small cones. Specialist Howard said that it was a great way to sap the strength of enemy combatants. Nero however thought the spell was perfect for making people cold and wet. It was a spell for summoning misery. But, it did the job of putting out the fires easily enough. Nero walked around happily, spraying down the forest with wide arcs of frost. Even the smoke and dust got wetted down and fell to the floor in growing sopping puddles. As the air cleared, and the fires died down, Nero looked over his shoulder to see Wesker spraying water from a hose attached to the cylinder he was carrying around. It looked like he was firing off a full-on fire hose from a household fire extinguisher. ¡®Well, that¡¯s neat. That guy is really prepared for everything, huh.¡¯ he thought. Seeing that the fire was out, Nero looked around admiring the destruction he¡¯d caused. The entire fight had lasted less than 10 minutes, and yet he still managed to obliterate a large swath of forest with his spell. The lesson he took away from this was that using a flame-thrower of that size in a wooded environment was probably not one of his better ideas. He looked over his shoulder, checking to see if the mud-igloo was still up. He saw Nick holding his glowing hands above a passed out Rose, while Cathleen stood with her hands on her hips and a glower on her face. ¡®What¡¯s that about?¡¯ he wondered. Making his way over to the group, he asked loudly, ¡°Hey, what happened to her?¡± Nick looked up while maintaining his spell, and replied, ¡°Some idiot decided to use up all the oxygen in the immediate area. What do you think happened?¡± Shocked, Nero didn¡¯t know what to say. He looked over at Cathleen and saw her glaring at him. Nero gulped at the sight of the pissed off warrior woman. From behind him, he heard Wesker stomping over. ¡°Walker, what the hell were you thinking? Are you trying to kill us all? And how are you even standing? Everyone knows you can¡¯t cast while mobs are on top of you? I think it¡¯s time for some answers before you end up killing us all with your secrets!¡± Wesker said, nearly shouting in fury near the end. Nero took a step back from the enraged sergeant, his eyes glancing down to see a coughing Rose sitting up. Not knowing exactly how to handle the situation, he said, ¡°The fire may have gotten a little out of hand, but it worked, didn¡¯t it? I don¡¯t see what you¡¯re all so mad about. The mob is dead, and I didn¡¯t really use much center at all. It¡¯s surprisingly easy to influence the environment when you¡¯re just adding some heat. Squirrels are fluffy¡­ did you see how their tails spread the flames? Crazy, right?¡± He finished with an uncomfortable chuckle, trying to lighten the mood. He was met with several stares, each filled with varying degrees of anger. He could only rub his hand through his soot covered hair and chuckle awkwardly. Chapter 129 - Its not crazy if it works. Nick heard the sergeant call for some crowd control. Immediately closing the mental connection to Nero, he pulled his perception field away from his assigned area. Letting his psychic presence flood the area around him, he made sure the mob wasn¡¯t close enough to be a problem. Seeing that it was all clear, he checked to make sure that Cathleen, Rose, and Nero were close enough for him to get started. Seeing that they were all within range, he carved a simple construction spell form. Known as, ¡®earth-shape¡¯, the spell was designed to copy the ground¡¯s local signature and created a construct in whatever shape the caster wanted. It was perfect for temporary combat walls. As he watched the walls rise up, he frowned at seeing his construct was mud again. ¡®Why the hell do I keep pulling in so much water with this spell. I really need to spend more time practicing. Oh, there it is. I included a moisture accumulation effect in the secondary essence accumulator node. I wonder if I can reverse the polarity like Nero did on that ¡®heating/cooling¡¯ spell he had made¡­¡± Nick¡¯s mind wandered at lightning speed, he¡¯d long ago given up on trying to reign in his scattered thoughts. Nero¡¯s voice snapped him out of his internal world, as he heard the young man shout, ¡°They¡¯re squirrels. They can jump. Walls aren¡¯t going to do shit. You know what¡­. Fuck this!¡± Nick looked over to see Nero stepping over the growing mud wall, heading toward where Sergeant Wesker was preparing to combat the incoming mob. He could see the mob¡¯s spawned avatars breaking through the brush in the distance. With one last glance at Nero, he returned to his full attention to the spell-form he was using to build the walls. ¡®I¡¯m sure Nero will be fine. If not, then hopefully he¡¯ll learn not to be so over-dramatic. After all, it shouldn¡¯t take long for Sergeant Wesker to force the mob to materialize. The idiot should be able to survive with nothing more than few bites if he manages to remember to bring out his shield,¡¯ he reassured himself. Altering the mental image of his intended construct, he watched as the walls started to slope inward. Soon, the open area above their 15ft wide haven began closing in, the walls forming a dome. He made sure to leave a 2 foot circle open at the top, allowing some light in. ¡®Perfect. Now I¡¯ll anchor a trap or two in case any of the mob¡¯s avatars make it past the sergeant,¡¯ he thought happily. Just as he was finished carving a ¡®rotary saw¡¯ spell, he heard what sounded like a group of cats being strangled outside their enclosure. ¡°What the hell was that?¡± asked Rose, while white-knuckling her bow with an arrow at the ready. All three of them stared up at the little opening in the rounded ceiling above their heads, the shadowed environment making the small section of the forest canopy seem overly far away. Cathleen was the one to answer Rose¡¯s question. ¡°It sounds like multiple animals in pain. Some kind of area of effect spell?¡± she asked, turning her head to look at Nick. Nick finished anchoring the spinning construct under the hole in the ceiling. While part of his mind was focused on maintaining his constructs, he tried to reach out with his perception field to get an idea of what was happening outside. His eyes widened in surprise at what he found, ¡°Uh¡­ you could say that. I¡¯m not exactly sure how, but we¡¯re surrounded by what looks like walls of fire. It¡¯s hard to see exactly what¡¯s happening, the mob¡¯s field has overtaken us and I can¡¯t get a good look.¡± Rose started panting, and asked, ¡°Do you guys feel that? Is something wrong with the air?¡± They looked up to see their little window being covered in smoke. Nick felt his construct drying out, the moisture evaporating back into essence. They could all feel the temperature rising. Seconds passed in silence, as they listened to the horrifying sounds of burning animals all around them. Nick¡¯s voice was full of concern as he realized what was happening. ¡°The fire isn¡¯t a construct any more. It¡¯s the forest itself, it¡¯s on fire. The oxygen is being consumed to fuel the flames. Despite our circumstances, we probably will have safer air in here than out there.¡± Cathleen¡¯s voice was calm but serious. ¡°Hazardous conditions? Do we need to cast purification or support spells?¡± Nick¡¯s focus was on trying to figure out the air¡¯s current composition in their impromptu shelter. With all the overlapping fields, the combat, not to mention the agitated essence conditions, he was having trouble isolating the air¡¯s signature with his field. The seconds stretched while Cathleen and Rose waited for Nick to respond. Yet, he remained silent. Rose and Cathleen watched as Nick¡¯s face contorted from curiosity to confusion, and then to annoyance. ¡°I can¡¯t tell. There is too much going on. But I think we¡¯re alright. Our essence fields should be enough to clear out some of the smoke, and I think there is still enough air to keep us safe for a while,¡± he said with some hope. Cathleen nodded, but kept her eyes on the ceiling¡¯s hole. The dark cloud blocking the opening was getting worse. Not one to take chances, she cast a simple air purification spell, creating a thin bubble of clean air over her mouth and nose. The spell looked like a shimmering wave of air around her lower face. It was a spell commonly known to soldiers and hunters alike. It didn¡¯t take much center or skill to cast, and it was handy when dealing with unsafe environments or when fighting underwater. Nick didn¡¯t bother casting anything. His field shouldn¡¯t have a problem filtering anything harmful in this type of environment. And while he may not specialize in body stats, but he was no slouch either. If worse came to worst, he¡¯d just drop the constructs he had active, and then cast a ¡®sheltered breath¡¯ spell. But, he doubted it would come to that. Neither Nick or Cathleen noticed Rose¡¯s struggled breathing. They were both too intent on staring at the ceiling hole, watching the smoke grow thicker as the minutes passed. Rose was too low-leveled to have manifested an essence field, but she wasn¡¯t willing to remind them of that. From her perspective, keeping her head down and staying inconspicuous was the key to living through this assignment. Worst case scenario, she passed out, but hopefully this would all be over before that happened. She was only here to keep her eyes and ears open, while making sure that no one paid much attention to her. The last thing she needed was them realizing how useless she was compared to the them. Her combat ability wasn¡¯t what she was here for anyways. She just needed to get through the next 6 months, and then she¡¯d be set. She¡¯d be living her life as an elite hunter, paid well for doing what she loved. Already she could see the level gains from her training. For the heaven¡¯s sake, she was almost level 10 already. Her first pillar was within reach. ¡®Just keep it together Rose. You can do this,¡¯ she told herself harshly. Support the creativity of authors by visiting Royal Road for this novel and more. So, she panted in silence, hoping that she could hold out until they were able to bring down the walls. Seconds turned into minutes, and her mind became fuzzier every second. Inside their isolated shelter, the temperature was rising quickly, and it was getting harder to breath. Her head ached, and her eyes watered. Her heart rate spiked, and she felt herself blacking out. As she fell, she reached out for help, her hand loosely pulling on Cathleen¡¯s arm. ----- Despite everyone looking at him like he had just won the ¡®asshole of the year¡¯ award, Nero was feeling pretty good. It had been nice to let loose, and even better, he¡¯d figured out how to deal with mobs. It felt like ages ago when he had theorized how environmental spells could help with getting through essence fields. Now he had proof of concept! He saw Nick patting Rose gently on the back, assuring her that she was fine. Meanwhile, Cathleen¡¯s eyes were scanning what remained of the forest for threats. Nero¡¯s attention snapped to Wesker when the man said, ¡°We deserve some answers Walker. How did you cast while inside a mob¡¯s field of control. That shouldn¡¯t be possible.¡± Before Nero could reply, Nick replied for him, his voice full of anger. ¡°He didn¡¯t. Nero just skipped trying to fight with magic and lit the entire forest on fire. It was lucky he didn¡¯t kill us all with his recklessness,¡± he said while turning his glare on Nero. Nero threw Nick a shocked look, mildly affronted at the accusation. ¡°Hey, it wasn¡¯t THAT reckless. I created a fire wall in front of the charging mob. They had to run through a furnace to get at us. It worked out exactly as planned,¡± he said. Nick stood up, his hands landing on his hips as if he were a principal berating his students for smoking behind the gym. ¡°Rose nearly died Nero. We all could have been caught in the fire. Look around, the entire area is nothing but charcoal! Was that according to plan?¡± he asked with no small amount of anger. Nero looked down at Rose, who was still sitting on the ground recovering from her brush with death. He had to admit, the poor woman looked a little traumatized. Sighing, he walked over to her and knelt down to look her in the eye. ¡°I¡¯m sorry about that. I didn¡¯t know that would happen. I just realized that walls weren¡¯t going to stop the mob from over-running us, and I went with a plan I had come up with to get around the mob¡¯s essence field. For the record, I will always bring you back if you fall. You have nothing to worry about when I¡¯m around,¡± he said, channeling his inner hero, or whatever passed for one if someone were to squint and give him the benefit of the doubt. Rose smiled at Nero¡¯s heartfelt apology, and replied, ¡°It¡¯s fine. Like you said, it worked out. It¡¯s my own fault for not telling anyone that I was having trouble breathing. I was standing next to a mage for heaven¡¯s sake. My pride almost got me killed. It won¡¯t happen again.¡± She finished with a surprising amount of iron in her tone. Nero gave her an appreciative nod, then stood up to face Nick again. ¡°I¡¯m not saying it was some brilliant plan or anything, I¡¯m just saying that it worked. Remember when I said that environmental effects could overcome level disparity? Well, look around, here is proof that I was right,¡± he said with a smile. Nick glanced quickly at the destroyed surroundings, then returned his scowl to Nero. ¡°I, and every other mage, already knew that environmental damage is capable of ignoring level disparity. You¡¯re borrowing the identity of the world around you to give life to your constructs, of course the results will be more powerful. That¡¯s why your ¡®air bomb¡¯ spell earned you so many points in the noble war, it was a novel application of a proven theory. But what you continue to ignore is that environmental spells are, by their very nature, nearly impossible to control. Your own spell nearly killed you when you fought Dorchen¡¯s forces in the Center halls, and now you almost killed a teammate due to your recklessness. If you truly plan to follow the path of the mage, you MUST learn how to control your magic, not just unleash it,¡± he said, sounding every bit the experienced magic user that he was. Nero met Nick¡¯s stare, but couldn¡¯t manage to hold it. Breaking first, he looked away from his friend, and replied, ¡°I hear you Nick. I get it. I didn¡¯t expect it to get out of control so quickly. Though, it really did seem like a good idea at the time. And you have to admit, it DID work. But, in the future, I¡¯ll be more careful. Also, for the record, we had plenty of time. Rose only passed out because you were all hiding in a kiln, for God¡¯s sake. That¡¯s on you.¡± Nero recognized that he had lost control of the situation, but he refused to back down completely. The plan worked, and the only ¡®casualty¡¯ wasn¡¯t really his fault. Sergeant Wesker had been watching their interaction, trying to follow along with what they were saying. He¡¯d been around a long time, working with mages from various backgrounds, so he could almost translate what they were talking about. He thought he understood what they meant by ¡®environmental effects¡¯, but he felt the need to make sure that he wasn¡¯t missing anything. When the two mages went silent for a moment, he saw his chance to interject. ¡°So Walker didn¡¯t manage to overcome the mob¡¯s field. He just set everything on fire and let the mob¡¯s spawns burn through its potential. Then when the mob manifested, he killed it quickly, knowing that he had to put out the fire before we all died along with it. That about sum it up?¡± He made sure to keep his tone controlled, not allowing any of his inner turmoil to cloud his words. Hearing his blunt summary, everyone looked to see what Nick had to say. Nick took a moment to think about it, then started nodding. ¡°That¡¯s a good way to put it. Nero set a trap, expecting the mob to die before it became more than we could handle,¡± he said without sugar-coating it. All eyes turned to Nero, who just shrugged at their judgmental looks. The sergeant contemplated what had been said, weighed the pros and cons of Walker¡¯s plan, then turned to Nero and said, ¡°You¡¯re an idiot. There was no reason to take the chance. We had a plan, a time-tested strategy which has been proven to get results with minimal danger to the team. There was absolutely no reason to improvise.¡± His voice was hard, as if he were stating facts rather than opinions. His long years as a military sergeant silently reinforcing his point. Nero wasn¡¯t going to fall for it. Nick may have had a point about environmental effects being uncontrollable, but calling a strategy that was JUST proven valid was ridiculous. That¡¯s the kind of logic that is reserved for politicians and managers who feel like coming down on their underlings who succeeded in a way they didn¡¯t like. Rolling his eyes, Nero responded in a mocking tone. ¡°Oh really? So, what about the fact that the mob¡¯s little squirrels were climbing the trees and hopping around all over the place? They would have over-run the walls the moment they saw them. Nick adapted, but I couldn¡¯t have known he was going to do that. There was no prearranged strategy to deal with a mob like that. You¡¯re just being pissy because the fire scared the crap out of you. Back home, we called that ¡®monday morning quarterbacking¡¯, and it was for politicians and desk jockeys,¡± he said, then turned his head to look at Cathleen. Nero saw her still scanning what was left of the treeline, her posture relaxed, but ready. ¡°Hey Cathleen, what do you think? We haven¡¯t heard your opinion,¡± he asked, interested in hearing what she had to say. Rose stood up slowly, joining the group in waiting to hear Cathleen¡¯s take on the situation. They watched her give one final scan of the surroundings, before turning her hawk-like gaze on Nero. ¡°Young warriors often push the boundaries of good sense. They must find their limits through adversity. You saw a potential weakness, devised a strategy, implemented it. Whether or not it was a mistake is something you¡¯ll have to decide for yourself after reflecting on the battle. Now isn¡¯t the time to concern yourself with the opinions of those who are only alive because you acted. It¡¯s better to act in ignorance, than to hesitate and die. If you manage to live through your mistakes, never repeat them. As there is no way to know what would have happened if you hadn¡¯t done as you did, it¡¯s pointless to debate it. Now, we¡¯ve talked enough. It¡¯s time to move on. Sergeant Wesker, the mob is currently dissipating, you might want to deal with that before you lose more of Lord Walker¡¯s spoils,¡± she said, her voice devoid of anything resembling interest. She could have been at the DMV for all the emotion she was showing. Nero couldn¡¯t help it, and started chuckling. ¡°Yeah, for all future war-time opinions, I¡¯m going with her. She¡¯s got ice in her veins,¡± he said, full of respect for the 5¡¯6¡¯¡¯ bad-ass warrior chick. She only had two inches on him, but on the battlefield, she stood taller than anyone he¡¯d ever met. Chapter 130 - Clearing out the mental backlog. Sergeant Wesker bit back his retort and sheathed his sword while turning away from the group. Making his way to the charred corpse of the mob, his thoughts were plagued with doubts. After pulling out the essence collection rod, he fed his center delicately into the control enchantment. While the rod did its work, half his concentration was running through the encounter they just had. He could see the fire exploding all around him, smell the scent of burning wood, and taste the ash on the air. ¡®It was madness, right?¡¯ he wondered. The world¡¯s fire was unpredictable, unforgiving, and it was something that no sane mage would rely on. Forcefully shaking off the threat of something he couldn¡¯t fight. His mind wandered to the little lord that had purposefully weaponized it. He just couldn¡¯t understand him. From the moment Nero Walker had arrived at the training camp, he¡¯d been a constant contradiction. He dedicated himself to training with an intensity that frightened a practical man like Wesker. Yet, at the same time, he treated everything like a joke, or at least an opportunity for a joke. Humor was all well and good, but there was a time and place for it. And a training compound for the training of elite hunters was NOT that place. But the thing that really unsettled Wesker was that when Walker fights, it¡¯s as if he has no fear of death. He throws himself into battle, ripping into monsters like they had no reason to exist other than to die at his feet. Wesker had just watched the young man stand in front of the mob, no shield at the ready, and face it head on. He could still see the little lord¡¯s face, full of determination, his eyes blazing with reflected fire, eager to meet the monster¡¯s charge. A level what¡­ 12...13 at most? Facing a high end class 2 monster, confident that he¡¯d survive. It was unnerving. But, if the young man was so dedicated to killing monsters, then why was he so uninterested in learning how to combat the wilds? The idiot didn¡¯t even read the mission packet, let alone follow any of the advice from those who know better. Wesker had heard that the assassins¡¯ ambush could have been avoided if that little bastard had just done what he was supposed to. ¡®Unless he HAD read the packet, and wanted to meet the assassins in the field?¡¯ he wondered, the thought causing the little hairs on his neck to stand up in panic. The scene of Walker interrogating the assassin played out in his mind. Walker¡¯s uncanny skill at pulling out the man¡¯s secrets, tricking him into acting as a witness to another noble¡¯s plots. ¡®It turned out pretty well for the little lord, didn¡¯t it?¡¯ he thought wryly. Glancing at the essence collection rod, he saw that it was almost finished condensing the mob¡¯s crystal, or at least what was left of it. Turning his head slightly, he looked out of the corner of his eye to see what Walker was up to. The little lord was chatting with Verena, probably discussing some magic or putting on another show for Vikander. Those two were full of secrets, and he¡¯d learned not to believe half of what they showed. He could see Averett watching over them all, their team¡¯s silent protector standing guard while the nobles played their games for the general¡¯s spy. How in the hells that little ponce managed to win her loyalty, he¡¯d never know. But it had to be something more than money that kept her nearby. She was an Averett after all. And he didn¡¯t believe for a second that nonsense about him being some kind of warrior prodigy. If he were, he wouldn¡¯t spend so much time bleeding out in the training rings. Managing to turn his attention away from the warrior woman, he looked for Vikander, finding her hiding in plain sight. He had to admit the young woman was good at what she did. Even though she claimed to be nothing more than a hunter, she was a natural at espionage work. The general had found her alongside the first group of assassins trying for Walker¡¯s head. Yet, here she was, standing next to her former target, safe as can be. She really didn¡¯t have a problem fading into the background. Even now, she was right there, listening to everything they said, and he could see neither of them seemed to care. ¡®Damn the general and his games,¡¯ he thought to himself. He was a soldier¡­. a hunter, this political nonsense was completely out of his skill-set. He didn¡¯t know how to feel about anything at the moment, and he couldn¡¯t recall the last time he felt like the world made sense to him. This was going to be a long tour for him. He just needed to make sure that it wasn¡¯t his last. ----- Sergeant Wesker eventually finished collecting the essence crystal. Unfortunately, it was now a much smaller composite than it would have been if he hadn¡¯t wasted so much time complaining. Seeing that the rest of the team was ready to go, he said, ¡°Let¡¯s get moving, the planar event we¡¯re looking for shouldn¡¯t be far.¡± As the team returned to formation and headed out, Nero took one last look at the burned patch of forest. ¡®Maybe Nick had a point, this place is ruined,¡¯ he thought to himself. He¡¯d read enough fantasy novels to know how powerful magic could be, but the reality of it was a little disconcerting. After thinking about it for a few minutes, he realized that it wasn¡¯t so much the amount of destruction that he had caused, it was the fact that he hadn¡¯t meant to do it. It really was all about control. With that realization, Nero audibly groaned and muttered a little too loudly in annoyance, ¡°Fuck!¡± His outburst caused the entire party to freeze in place and prepare for incoming. The sergeant looked over his shoulder and asked, ¡°Walker, status?¡± Nero hadn¡¯t meant to have his private grumblings overheard, but now that they had been, he debated if he should say something to Nick. Several seconds passed as Nero matched stares with the sergeant while his mind filtered through his options. Apologize? No, he wasn¡¯t really feeling remorseful. Play it off as nothing? No, he didn¡¯t want to be a child that couldn¡¯t admit his mistakes. Confess that he had learned something? Did he expect a cookie? ¡°It¡¯s nothing. I just realized I¡¯ve been acting like a moron,¡± he said with some rare humility underscoring his words. Turning his head to look at Nick¡¯s back, Nero added, ¡°Hey Nick, I get what you were saying about control. Sorry I was being a little bitch about it.¡± Everyone had been facing outward, covering their assignments, waiting to see what had provoked Nero¡¯s outburst. But when they heard what Nero said, almost as one they turned to look over their shoulders and stare at him with varying shades of shock. While Cathleen looked surprised but proud, Nick smiled like a loon. But Rose and Wesker shared almost identical looks of disbelief. Neither of them believed for a second that Nero was being serious. He was aware of their opinions, their psychic fields made it pretty clear how they felt, but he didn¡¯t really care all that much. Nero had only said what he said because he felt like it. He¡¯d rather free up the brainpower to focus on mastering his mage-armor, instead of wasting hours protecting his pride and feeling like an asshole. Stolen from its original source, this story is not meant to be on Amazon; report any sightings. ¡°Can we get going? We¡¯ve got an essence thing to go deal with, don¡¯t we?¡± he asked, not liking the fact that they were all still staring at him. The only response Nero got was a grunt of annoyance from Wesker. No one else made a sound as the party resumed their search for the ¡®mark¡¯ Wesker kept talking about. Nero was feeling pretty good about his handling of the situation. In fact, he wondered if this was the kind of personal growth that would lead to a level. He could almost feel the pressure from his built up experience reserves going down as if they were being applied to his growth. He opened his identity to confirm his hypothesis.
Name Nero Walker Level 13
Race Human Growth 99%
Tier 1 Condition 98%
Age 14 Center 63%
Body 4 Mind 5
Soul 2 Confluence 10
Stars 0 Pillars 1 / 1
Nero saw his growth stuck at 99% and he frowned in annoyance. Also, he hadn¡¯t realized his center was so low. He must have been pretty wasteful with all his essence shield experiments. Or did his fire-wall stunt take more center than he thought it had? Dismissing his identity window, Nero put it out of his mind. It wasn¡¯t important at the moment. He¡¯d level eventually, no reason to force it. After all, he leveled to 13 last night, he shouldn¡¯t be this close to another level already. His leveling was slowing down considerably. Or at least it was. ¡®This makes no sense¡­ does it?¡¯ he wondered. He knew that he had some experience saved up after his last level, and he¡¯d had one hell of interesting morning. Those experiences had built up and he could practically feel them crawling over his soul, slowly bleeding off into the ambient ether. Sensing what was happening around his center wasn¡¯t easy, but he was getting better at it. And at least his soul felt much lighter after his moment of self-realization. The moment Nero processed what had just gone through his mind, he stumbled over his feet in shock. Self-realization? Lighter soul? Looking back over the past few weeks, so much normal crap had happened to him that the world had started to make sense. Despicable nobles plotting revenge killings and maneuvering for position in the political landscape of Dorchester. Ornery military leaders with uncertain agendas. Spying hot chicks trying to honey-trap him. Crazy ancient wizards abusing their positions. Fantasy monsters straight out of the stories he used to read online. And there was even a wise warrior woman acting as his spiritual guide. He¡¯d forgotten that the entire world was hell-bent on pretending to be a self-help book. He came to a stop, abandoning his combat ready demeanor. The thoughts of everything he¡¯d been treating as ¡®normal¡¯ regained their wonder and magic. When did he stop noticing that all of this was so ¡®fantastic¡¯, almost to the point of being annoying? He was on his way to deal with a planar event that was spitting out monsters¡­ how crazy was that! And along the way, he¡¯d been slowly learning to be a better person and face his personal shortcomings while making friends. The essence in the air became agitated as Nero¡¯s eyes glazed over. His mind was rushing along, images highlighting the details he¡¯d been taking for granted flashing through his consciousness. The entire party paused and stared at him in shock. Seeing someone leveling out in the open, when they weren¡¯t even resting or meditating, was incredible. It wasn¡¯t impossible, but it was so improbable it might as well be. After all, they were currently in the middle of the wilds, which wasn¡¯t really an environment conducive to self-reflection and growth. Nero felt the ambient essence calm down, and he came back to his senses. After blinking a few times to clear his head, he looked around to see the entire party staring at him in wonder. Nero remembered seeing the same look on Captain Angelton¡¯s face when he¡¯d been escorting him to the Center back when he¡¯d first arrived in this world. Feeling more like himself than he had in a while, Nero smirked and said, ¡°What¡¯s the matter? Never seen someone level before?¡± Wesker didn¡¯t know why, but the look on Nero¡¯s face pissed him off something fierce. He barked, ¡°Allocate your star and let¡¯s go. We¡¯ve wasted enough time dealing with your issues today.¡± Not bothering to argue, Nero opened his identity and pushed his fresh star into his confluence without even bothering to check his level stress. He¡¯d promised himself he¡¯d maintain a buffer of at least 5 between his stats and his confluence, and he needed the breathing room if he wanted to clear out the level stress from his mind stats. He was almost scared to look at them.
Name Nero Walker Level 14
Race Human Growth 0%
Tier 1 Condition 100%
Age 14 Center 100%
Body 4 Mind 5
Soul 2 Confluence 11
Stars 0 Pillars 1 / 1
With a smile, Nero dismissed his identity. He could feel some residual experience still waiting for him to deal with, but for now, he was content. So much had happened, and leveling really helped him feel a little more comfortable with himself. Despite how stupid he found all the self-help crap, he couldn¡¯t deny that it did make him feel pretty good emotionally. ¡®It¡¯s a lot like that one time Jackie dragged me to a spa. After having a manicure, facial, and a massage by a surprisingly angry asian lady, I remember feeling exactly like this. Equal parts annoyed, shamed, and relaxed,¡¯ he thought to himself. Not willing to hold up the party any longer than necessary, Nero snapped out of his thoughts and said, ¡°Alright, let¡¯s go. Nothing to see here, just me being awesome. Don¡¯t worry, I¡¯ll be here all week. I¡¯m sure I¡¯ll do something else to amaze you soon enough.¡± Ignoring the various looks he was receiving, the team resumed their mission. Wesker, unsurprisingly, sped up their pace due to his lingering anger at having to put up with Nero. Time passed, and Nero didn¡¯t even bother with trying maintain his mage-armor. He just wrapped himself in condensed essence like a blanket, and enjoyed their walk through the magical forest. His psychic field was spread out looking for threats, but most of his mind was pleasantly empty of any heavy thoughts. Or at least it was, until he noticed the ambient essence starting to act weird. Through his field, he could tell that something wasn¡¯t right. The ambient essence felt¡­ bent. There was no other way to describe it. Everything seemed to flow normally, but it was like looking through a fun house mirror, or a warped pair of glasses. It was extremely unnerving. The closer they came to wherever it was they were going, the worse the sensation got. Nero broke the party¡¯s stealth by calling out in a whisper loud enough to be redefined as a hiss, ¡°Hey guys, you seeing this with the essence? What the hell is going on?¡± Wesker didn¡¯t halt the party, or even bother to respond to Nero¡¯s outburst. He just kept up his march, almost stomping his feet as he refused to acknowledge Nero¡¯s question. Thankfully Nick was kind enough to reply. ¡°We¡¯re nearing an essence event. It doesn¡¯t look to be a planar rift, or we¡¯d be seeing more manifestations of identity contamination. Unless I¡¯m mistaken, we¡¯re probably just dealing with a simple spawn-point. Keep an eye out for mobs. Spawn-points tend to follow a pattern.¡± Nero just nodded, pretending to understand what Nick was talking about. He really hated it when he asked a question, only to be answered with a lecture on something he wasn¡¯t even thinking about. ¡®So, the essence is being screwed up by the spawner? Why does everyone hate answering direct questions. And these assholes think I¡¯M rude,¡¯ he thought to himself. Chapter 131 - Well, that happened. Although Cathleen appeared to focus primarily on the surrounding wilds, in reality, she was always paying close attention to what was going on around her. From Wesker¡¯s constant personal crises of faith with the standards set by the military constantly being challenged by the little lord¡¯s improvisation and questioning, to Vikander¡¯s expertly hidden fears and caution, she saw it all. As a northern warrior, she¡¯d been trained to see with more than just her eyes. It was a skill that southerners usually neglected to cultivate, even the mages here didn¡¯t seem to bother with it. Normally, she¡¯d call them idiots and leave it at that, but she was positive that Lord Walker either learned the skill from Lord Salvatore-Verena, or at least had it explained to him by someone who¡¯d mastered it. Ever since they¡¯d entered the wilds, she¡¯d felt Lord Walker¡¯s psychic presence getting better at blanketing the area. She hadn¡¯t been sure if he was actually using his perception field to see, but there was no longer any doubt. Ever since the ambush, she could tell that something had changed. Now, she¡¯d feel his mind practically scouring through the ether, supplementing his material sight with his ethereal gaze. He wasn¡¯t even being subtle about it. And the fact that Lord Salvatore-Verana didn¡¯t seem to notice indicated that he hadn¡¯t been the one to teach Lord Walker how to do it. ¡®So who taught the little lord to see beyond his eyes?¡¯ she wondered. These thoughts kept her occupied while she kept vigil on the party recovering from their most recent battle with a mob. As her physical eyes scanned the surrounding forest, which had been thoroughly burned out by the little lord¡¯s experimenting, she used her perception field to enjoy the argument going on in front of her. The sergeant, so accustomed to treating combat like a training exercise, was having trouble dealing with Lord Walker¡¯s use of environmental warfare. It¡¯s rather amusing how the poor man is unable to conceptualize the little lord¡¯s casual disregard for his ¡®proper procedure¡¯. ¡®This is what comes from training soldiers only to defend walls while deluding them into thinking themselves warriors. He can¡¯t even recognize a true survivor standing right in front of him,¡¯ she thought sadly. At least Lord Salvatore-Verena was presenting a valid argument. Power is not a toy to be bandied about, it is a weapon to be wielded with purpose. When that purpose isn¡¯t directed, the power will choose its own target. She felt the little lord¡¯s attention focus on her, both his sight and his mind¡¯s eye. After hearing his question she thought, ¡®So you want my opinion, do you?¡¯ She couldn¡¯t help but find the drama a little entertaining. Running her gaze across the soot covered party members, she locked eyes with Nero and said, ¡°Young warriors often push the boundaries of good sense. They must find their limits through adversity. You saw a potential weakness, devised a strategy, implemented it. Whether or not it was a mistake is something you¡¯ll have to decide for yourself after reflecting on the battle. Now isn¡¯t the time to concern yourself with the opinions of those who are only alive because you acted. It¡¯s better to act in ignorance, than to hesitate and die. If you manage to live through your mistakes, never repeat them. As there is no way to know what would have happened if you hadn¡¯t done as you did, it¡¯s pointless to debate it. Now, we¡¯ve talked enough. It¡¯s time to move on. Sergeant Wesker, the mob is currently dissipating, you might want to deal with that before you lose more of Lord Walker¡¯s spoils.¡± Cathleen forcefully suppressed her smile at seeing the sergeant stomp off to deal with the corpse, his pouty attitude almost causing her mask to break. She could feel the amusement rolling off both Lord Walker and Lord Salvatore-Verena, their essence practically dripping with it. Never in her life had she been trained in psychological warfare, but she could see why the little lord enjoyed it so much. Winning pointless conversational battles was an interesting pastime. A useless hobby, but interesting nonetheless. Before long, they were finally ready to head toward the essence event which was their target. As they made their way out of the burned area of the forest, she could already feel the essence in the area starting to repair it. Without a sentient to reinforce the changes by observation, new growth would cover the ground in a few days. In a month, no one would be able to tell a battle had even been fought here. Of course, that all is contingent on them successfully reinstating the natural essence flows in the area. She could already feel the knot in the essence affecting the ethereal plane. ¡®At least the sergeant¡¯s inner conflict isn¡¯t affecting his sense of direction,¡¯ she thought with some humor. As time passed, and they headed closer to their target, she kept up her vigil on her surroundings. Often, the beasts or monsters would congregate around their spawn-points, so she maintained readiness in case an enemy showed itself. ¡°Fuck!¡± she heard Nero mutter rather loudly from behind her. The party instantly halted, and she thoroughly scanned the area with a frown. ¡®There isn¡¯t anything out there? Is there?¡¯ she wondered, her senses humming with tension. After confirming nothing was out there, she realized that the little lord was just dealing with some kind of personal issue. A little annoyed, she searched his essence signature for clues. In the ethereal plane, it looked like his center was actively cycling. ¡®Is he actually doing active meditation?¡¯ she wondered. Support the creativity of authors by visiting Royal Road for this novel and more. Moments later, she saw the essence in the area violently shake, then a weak level cyclone rose up around their party. Through her perception field, she could see Lord Walker actually leveling! He had actually been active meditating. ¡®Who in the infinite planes of the hells taught him how to do that!?!¡¯ she wondered, her eyes wide with surprise. ¡°What¡¯s the matter? Never seen someone level before?¡± asked the little lord, his smirk taunting her and everyone around her. Down to the recesses of her center, she regretted that his soul ended up in the southern cities, it truly was a shame that he didn¡¯t borrow a body from a northerner. Regardless, she now knew for a fact that he was in contact with someone who¡¯d had something similar to warblade training. These weren¡¯t skills or concepts that someone could just come up with on their own. She¡¯d have to be careful with her investigation, but no opponent can hide forever. One way or another, she¡¯d find out who is trying to poach her prospect. ¡®Perhaps it was that war-mage that¡¯s been teaching him how to cast their weak southern magic?¡¯ she thought angrily. ----- The ambient essence looked¡­ wrong, and every step they took closer to the essence event only made it worse. Yet, Nero¡¯s sense of his surroundings wasn¡¯t affected in the least. The material plane through his perception field looked perfectly fine. He could still see and interact with the ambient essence. If he had to describe what was bothering him, he wouldn¡¯t know where to start. Everything just looked¡­. Wrong! And it was creeping him the hell out. Minutes passed as the team made their way through the forest. All the while, no one other than Nero seemed to think anything was ¡®off¡¯. Everyone stayed in formation, kept their eyes on their assignments, and generally acted as if it was all business as usual in the wilds. While Nero did his best to concentrate his senses on the area he was supposed to be monitoring, it was incredibly difficult to stay focused. It was almost like he was walking through a haunted house, where there was that underlying sense of ¡®eeriness¡¯. But instead of some ineffable sense of danger, it was a feeling of the world around him being subtly ¡®incorrect¡¯. The trees looked wrong, but somehow also normal. Same with the shrubs and plant-life all around him. Even the sound of the animals wasn¡¯t right. ¡®This must be how Alice felt when she went through the looking glass. Man that movie creeped me the hell out,¡¯ he thought to himself with a grimace. Nero¡¯s attention snapped to the front of the party when he heard Nick say in a perfectly calm tone, ¡°Huh, it¡¯s just a little baby spawn-point. I¡¯m impressed the scry mages even managed to find this little guy,¡± Nero couldn¡¯t believe what he wasn¡¯t seeing. Directly in front of them, bisecting a tree, his eyes saw nothing. But his perception field was clearly telling him that a large undulating blob of ¡®something¡¯ was right there. With his mental senses, he couldn¡¯t help but run his psychic presence over it, psychically poking it to prove to himself that it was actually there. It was like there was a giant blob of ¡®goo¡¯ hanging in the air, but completely invisible. In the ethereal plane, it was even more confusing. Streams of essence seemed to curl together like a tangled extension cord, but multiplied by a million. Every type of essence in the area was simultaneously flowing right past it, looking completely normal, but also being dragged into a bubbling vortex of Christmas lights fresh from the box in the attic. Nero was maybe 20ft away, but that was still close enough to see how freaking weird the hovering ball of insanity was. Wesker¡¯s harsh voice snapped him out his thoughts. ¡°Vikander, Averett, watch the flanks. Keep an eye out for manifestations. Don¡¯t hesitate. Call out if you see anything at all. I¡¯ll watch over the mages. Verena, get this thing smoothed out. Walker, get over here and listen to everything he says. Orders are to have you learn how to do this, and we don¡¯t have all day,¡± he said, his voice full of repressed anger, but otherwise unworried. Nero numbly approached Nick, who was standing their with his arms crossed, staring curiously at the ball of craziness. Nero muttered, ¡°OK. So, this is a spawn-point. I gotta be honest here buddy, I have no idea what I¡¯m looking at. It¡¯s clearly there, but my eyes aren¡¯t seeing anything.¡± Nick turned away from his examination to stare at Nero in confusion, ¡°You expected to be able to see it? It¡¯s in the ethereal plane¡­ not the material. Open up your senses and try to feel out the area in front of us. Tell me what you sense.¡± Returning the look of confusion, Nero replied, ¡°Oh, I see what¡¯s not there. Or, I mean, I see what¡¯s in the ethereal plane. It looks like a massively jumbled mess of essence flows that are wrapped around each other¡­ but also not. The thing is maybe 5 feet around, and like a big ball of tangled string¡­¡± As Nero was describing what he was seeing, his mental presence reached out to examine the knot of essence. At first, everything was fine, his perception just showing him hints of various essences squirming around each other. Then, out of nowhere, his mind seemed to slip past the surface, deeper into the spawn point. His mental projection was overwhelmed with a flash of sensations that made no sense. It was like a mental flash-bang, but instead of sound and light, it exploded with everything from smells to tastes along with images of a dark forest. Then, he was through, and he could see the other side. All around him were the creepiest trees he¡¯d ever seen. Ropes of vegetation were hanging down from the branches, reaching to the ground like dead snakes stapled to the canopy. The ground had small fog clouds slowly making their way across the forest floor. Shadows seemed darker than they should be, while the sky was almost completely hidden from sight. It would have been pitch black, if not for the few shafts of sunlight that managed to breach the gnarled canopy. But, the light didn¡¯t look right, it wasn¡¯t bright enough. The sense of wrongness was so strong, it was almost just a different type of ¡®right¡¯. While Nero took in the dark forest, which looked like something out of a Tim Burton movie, he sensed a muted presence off to the left of his focus. Reorienting his mental sight, he saw a figure leaning against a tree. They were maybe 6ft tall, possibly male. Their incredibly light hair pulled back in a topknot, allowing the back of their hair to flow around their shoulders gracefully. Intricate combat leathers were wrapped along their body, with small plates of metal attached in strategic places along their limbs and torso. Twin swords sheathed at their waist, with various knives strapped all over the place. The only word Nero could use to describe them, was ¡®elf¡¯. It was an honest to God, pointy eared, pretty boy, elf. Nero¡¯s mind stuttered to a stop, completely flabbergasted at what he was seeing. The damned elf was just standing there, leaning comfortably against a tree, calmly reading a book one handed while his other hand crossed his chest to support his reading arm. His face looked so¡­ bored. Behind him, far off in the distance, Nero heard Nick¡¯s voice calling out. Still confused, Nero turned his attention around to focus on what was behind him. His mind almost recoiled at the sight of another tangled mess of essence, identical to the one he had just been screwing around with. He didn¡¯t know how, but he knew that Nick was inside that thing¡­ or on the other side of that thing. Probably with the rest of the party¡­ and his body? ¡®Did I just astral project through a magical wormhole? Fuck me, I¡¯m a dumb-ass!¡¯ he said to himself in panic. Chapter 132 - Through the essence event. While the sergeant was currently collecting the essence crystal from the mob¡¯s corpse, and Ms. Averett was preoccupied with standing guard, Rose was free to listen in on the two noble¡¯s discussion. She did her best to fade into the background as Lords Salvatore-Verena and Walker started conferring about the recent fight. Her latest brush with death had brought much more attention than she was conformable with. Hopefully, both of them would go back to ignoring her existence as soon as possible. Luckily, even after seeing her almost die, Ms. Averett and Sergeant Wesker didn¡¯t seem to care all that much about her. Which was exactly how she wanted it. They weren¡¯t who she was here for anyway. Forcing herself to focus on the present, it took some effort, but she managed to push her recent trauma to the back of her mind. Despite her hands still shaking, she concentrated on what Lord Salvatore-Verena was saying. The older man was giving the little lord examples of how mages from history had adversely affected the landscape by not respecting their power. He even referenced the fall of House Dorchen, which was a story known to every citizen of Dorchester. In fact, she doubted that any school in the Strates didn¡¯t at least mention the famous event. 600 years ago, the Dorchens were caught planning a rebellion. They were going to leave the protection of Oglivarch, and create a new kingdom in the Strates. Several nearby cities were said to have been sympathetic to their goals. Many historical analysts believe that if the plot hadn¡¯t been discovered, it might have even succeeded. The whole of the Strates only remain a part of Oglivarch to this day because the populators had come down like the wrath of the gods on Dorchester. As a result of that war, and the terrible magics used to win it, the entire region¡¯s essence profile had been permanently altered. Yet, despite what Lord Salvatore-Verena was saying, she knew the recent density shift had everyone wondering if there were more to the story. When the team had returned to Dorchester to drop off the assassin at the Tower of Law, Rose took advantage of the opportunity to rejoin the city¡¯s Thought-hub through her link. No longer restrained by the military¡¯s over-site at the elite training camp, she had been able to peruse the news releases and several of the commentary boards she always kept up with. And some of what she had read came to mind as she listened to Lord Salvatore-Verena subtly berate the little lord about how magic could have unintended consequences. There was even a theory going around on the commentary boards that Lord Walker was sent here as an instrument of balance. One of the orders in the religious district, the church of the sun, posted a sermon advocating the belief that Goddess Serene used the little lord¡¯s arrival to ensure the Dorchen line finally died out. Now that the last Dorchen was truly gone, their line finally ended for their betrayal of humanity, the density shift was just the essence returning to Dorchester so that the city woud regain its former glory. Only the faithful would think that argument made any kind of sense, but there were even some non-faithful who were supporting the idea. After all, if the rumors were true, the little lord¡¯s soul was from another plane of existence. There were several commentators saying they heard it directly from the army intelligence. And if that were true, how could it have happened without someone from the higher planes being involved? At the time, she considered the idea nothing more than a publicity stunt, probably set in motion by House Walker or some of its agents. It would offer a clever cover for whatever odd personality traits and social indelicacies the new little lord exhibited. But, like her, most citizens were too smart to fall for the manipulations of the nobles, regardless of what those in power thought. However, after seeing what Lord Walker is capable of, she was starting to doubt her conclusions. Looking around, observing the charred and ruined landscape of the wilds, it was hard to deny that the Lord Walker seemed a little more special than the average citizen of Dorchester. Maybe it wasn¡¯t just politics and backing, perhaps there was something more to his rapid rise to power. Rose narrowed her eyes as she studied the young lord. It was impressive, the image of a soot covered young warrior being instructed by the older mage with a backdrop of a burned out forest and wisps of smoke still rising to the sky all around them. Rose had to admit, it was like something out of the historical records where the great citizens of the past shaped this kingdom with nothing but their will and their wits. ¡®Don¡¯t allow illogical thoughts to shake your center. Reason and determination are all you need on your path,¡¯ she quoted to herself, trying to shake off her ever-growing awe of the little lord. While she was lost in thought, Sergeant Wesker finished his task and got the group moving toward their objective. Rose pushed the uncomfortable thoughts aside and did her best to focus on the dangers of the wilds. If she wanted to live through this experience, and have a chance to consider these difficult questions, then now wasn¡¯t the time to think about them. Not even an hour later, she watched Lord Walker halt the group mid march. She felt the little lord level right in front of her¡­ right in the middle of the wilds. His silver hair whipping around as the wind kicked up dust and leaves from the forest floor. He wasn¡¯t meditating or anything¡­ he¡¯d just been talking. Since she¡¯d met him, he¡¯d leveled multiple times. Now, she¡¯d even seen it happen. It was shocking, and absurd. ¡®Maybe he really is just different than the rest of us,¡¯ she wondered in awe. ----- ¡®Did I really just kill myself by following an essence trail?!?¡¯ he raged. Nero¡¯s mental process was moving so fast, it was almost hard for him to form a coherent thought. Only a few seconds passed at most, and he felt everything around him growing more vivid. As a mental projection, he had no body, no physical form that would allow him to interact with the world. And that was a problem, because he truly wanted to start shouting and pulling his hair out, as any good freak-out required. This tale has been pilfered from Royal Road. If found on Amazon, kindly file a report. Yet, with every second that passed, his panic faded. In less time than it takes to order takeout, Nero¡¯s emotional state reached equilibrium, seemingly unable to maintain any strong emotion. In fact, he felt fine¡­ calm¡­ almost abnormally so. He could still hear Nick trying to contact him through the spawn point. Checking on his new elven friend, Nero saw that he was still calmly reading his book, clearly oblivious to Nero¡¯s presence. Everything seemed so clear, and Nero¡¯s mind had no trouble interpreting what it was seeing. In fact, he seemed to be able to come to conclusions faster than he could notice details. The elf was clearly only here to monitor this essence event, and obviously had no fear of the creepy forest all around them. Most likely, he was a scout, assigned to guard duty. This was another world, so there was probably a civilization that was Oglivarch¡¯s equivalent on this side of the essence event. Turning his attention back to the weird ball of tangled essence, Nero could see that despite the similarities, this side¡¯s event was very different than the one back with his party. The event must act as the connection point between these two worlds¡­ planes¡­ yes, these were both planes. That¡¯s why the ambient essence was so different, but so similar. There were multiple material planes, just like there were multiple higher and lower planes. ¡®How did I know that?¡¯ he wondered. Nero¡¯s mind was filling with information about where he was. He felt like he knew that these beings were called ¡®Elfen¡¯. Images of their cities flashed in his head. He could see their towering ¡®homewoods¡¯ surrounded by a civilization that lived in harmony with the natural world. Flashes of streets filled with elfen shops, riders on stags patrolling the border, large bramble walls protecting their ¡®conclaves¡¯. It was like getting a local guide-book for tourists downloaded directly into his head. He had never felt so in tune with the ether, able to so easily understand the world around him. ¡®Wait, yes I have,¡¯ he thought, the faded memory breaking his connection with this area¡¯s essence profile. Flashes of his journey through the planes bubbled up from his subconscious. He saw glimpses of fantasy civilizations of all kinds. Scenes of towering cities floating in the air, their gold walls shining like a beacon in the sky. Red expanses of land with black cities of stone reeking of misery and pain. And so many others that his head started to swim. Like pushing away a bad memory, Nero shunted those recollections back to where they came from. Immediately, they retreated into the recesses of his mind, only a fraction of them having been touched. He now knew what was happening. ¡®I finally did it. I killed myself through my stupidity,¡¯ he said to himself calmly, barely able to muster up any significant emotion at the thought. Nero felt for his connection to the body he¡¯d been using, sensing a thin thread leading back through the essence event behind him. The moment he felt the connection, he grabbed hold with all his will and raced along the link, right into the heart of the twisting essence. Somehow he knew that it would lead him back to his party. Everything happened in reverse. Images and knowledge of the world he left flashed through his mind, then a series of sensations that he couldn¡¯t quite comprehend assaulted his being. His sense of time vanished, and then he felt the knowledge of the area around Dorchester hit him like a sock full of quarters. People working together for the greater good, doing all that they could to channel their baser instincts into the ability to survive in a world that didn¡¯t want them. Weak humans banding together to create massive cities of commerce and learning, surrounded by isolated towns and villages all working to feed resources into their local havens. Towering walls protecting millions of people from beasts and monsters dedicated to wiping out any sentient species that dared to influence their environment. And then, he was through and back among his party¡­ kind of. He found himself floating above his body, oddly similar to how his journey started after the first time he died. But this time, he at least had some idea as to what was happening. Looking down, he could see Nick leaning over his corpse, brow covered in sweat, his glowing hands raised as if he were working some great magic. Not bothering to check what his friend was doing, Nero looked around to see the entire party staring down at his corpse. While Rose seemed a little worried, Cathleen just looked confused. Her head was cocked to the side, as if she were trying to figure out what Nero¡¯s body was doing. Opposite them, Sergeant Wesker stood there in his full plate, leaning on his shield, utterly indifferent to what was going on in front of him. A sense of d¨¦j¨¤ vu rose up in Nero¡¯s mind, and he recalled a similar scene not too long ago. Images of a bloody battle. Black clad mercenaries massacring a caravan. A body that seemed empty, yet still alive. He remembered almost feeling something¡­ a sensation he had almost forgotten. Opportunity. As if he were recalling how to ride a bike, Nero lowered himself down to his corpse. Using the thin connection still clinging to his mental presence, he slipped into the body¡­ again. He felt the connection solidify, and he could almost feel Nick trying to find him inside his soul-space. But, the instant everything clicked, he felt his soul reject Nick¡¯s presence. Almost instinctively, he thought, ¡®Dibs!¡¯ He felt his flesh once again fill with his identity, his center, but unlike last time, the body was eager to connect with him. The expected pain didn¡¯t come. Time seemed to stop as his mind slipped into the brain and joined with the nervous system. It was like he was updating the body¡¯s mental backup with new information. Nero 2.0 was online. His senses pulled in visceral sensations from the forest around him, and the sounds of exclamation erupted all around him. His eyes shot open, and he sucked in a huge gasp of air. He could feel his heart pounding in his chest. All of his limbs were tingling and numb. Sitting up, he could see a tired Nick staring at him with confusion and relief. Nick leaned over and hugged Nero hard, nearly toppling over. His voice was barely a whisper, ¡°Thanks all the gods in the infinite heavens, you¡¯re back.¡± Nero reached up and absently patted Nick on the back. Once again, he was alive. When Nick leaned away to look Nero in the eye, and check on his state of mind, Nero met his stare and said, ¡°I already know what happened, and I¡¯m pretty sure I know what I did wrong. But Nick, if you ever want me to tell you what happened on the other side of whatever that thing is, you¡¯ll have to promise me something.¡± His voice conveyed his complete and utter seriousness. Nick¡¯s face lit up in wonder. ¡°The other side? You went through it like a planar gate? Sure, whatever you want. Name it,¡± he said, eager to hear what Nero had experienced. Nero¡¯s face was devoid of any warmth or humor. His tone filled with ice, he said, ¡°Jennings, that old bastard... he can never know about this. I refuse to hear him say, ¡®I told you so¡¯. I swear to God, Nick¡­ I mean it.¡± The atmosphere between the two friends was shattered by a sound that raised the hairs on the back of their necks. It was so unbelievable that both their heads whipped around to stare at the source, mirrored looks of confusion and horror upon their faces. Cathleen Averett, the normally stoic warrior woman, had her head thrown back in laughter, her shoulders shaking with mirth. Chapter 133 - Its easy to know who your friends are. Victoria Blackwood hadn¡¯t slept since returning from her interview with the council in the Hall of Leadership. Not that she was complaining, as it had turned out to be a very productive 60 hours. She had been able to provoke several challenges from her competitors, and force those that remained into the arena. Her hot-blooded brothers and sisters thought that they would find victory in the arena, while her business rivals thought she wouldn¡¯t have the stomach for violence. This illusion of weakness had taken years to cultivate. So many times, she avoided settling things in the arena, doing all that she could to feign a preference for settling conflicts through the house¡¯s financial leader-boards. The moment her father was executed, her plans came to fruition. Those sisters and brothers who could never beat her in a contest of financial acumen or scholarly pursuits had been counting on meeting her in the arena. They had been biding their time, counting on the fact that multiple defeats would have removed her from contention for the leadership of House Blackwood. Each of them had wasted years focusing on their training, believing that she was weak¡­ all according to her plan. Now they were dead, and with her victories and petitions, she had finally been confirmed as the new Lord Blackwood. It hadn¡¯t been easy. In addition to the standard House hierarchy model adopted by the noble houses across all of Oglivarch, every house had a few metrics that were determined by their head of house. For years, their house¡¯s ladder had balanced on the whims of her father¡¯s favor. And in her opinion, her father had weighed political connections and relationships too high in the ranking metrics. After all, a real noble only needed three things to be successful. They needed to be cunning, able to see through the plots and plans of others. They needed to be strong in both mind and body, able to meet their enemies in any field of battle. And above all, they needed to be cautious, for false confidence is the natural result of being both cunning and strong. These thoughts ran through her head as she let the steam from the shower wash away her stress. The hot water and scented soaps acting like balm on her soul. With one hand propped up against the wall, she closed her eyes and let the water fall across the back of her neck. Years of planning had culminated in a bloody few days. It had been a perfect victory... almost too perfect. At most, she had expected 80% of her preparations and plots to have succeeded. Yet, after it was all said and done, every single one of her plans had worked out exactly as she¡¯d hoped. And now, there was no longer anyone remaining in the branch that could challenge her position. She had won, completely. She let shoulders sag in relief, taking a moment to revel in her victory. But all too soon, she knew it was over, and she forced herself to look away from her past and focus on the future. Summoning what remained of her will, she opened her eyes and straightened her spine. With a flick of her hand, the shower turned off, and she headed off to bed. Tomorrow she would find out who had been aiding her behind the scenes, and then she would have to decide what to do about it. As the new Lord Blackwood, she needed to know if they were in fact a secret ally, or a hidden enemy. ----- While Cathleen was getting her amusement out of her system, Nick helped Nero stumble to his feet. Rose and Sergeant Wesker returned to their positions, pretending to focus on the surrounding forest while not-so-subtly listening in on what Nero had to say. Nick held Nero steady as the young man tried to shake off the after-effects of whatever had just happened to him. Even though he was ecstatic to see Nero alive, his impatience for answers forced him to ask, ¡°Nero, seriously, what happened? One second, you were examining the essence knot, and the next, you collapsed like a puppet with its strings cut.¡± Nero¡¯s mind couldn¡¯t help but imagine the scenario as Nick described what he¡¯d seen. With a shiver, Nero replied, ¡°I¡¯m not entirely sure. But I can make a few guesses. And they wouldn¡¯t even really be guesses. I think I somehow connected on a deeper level with the local essence signature. I saw so much¡­ so quickly¡­ it was like reaching enlightenment, but only about little things. Does that make sense?¡± So often, Nick had seen Nero looking at him with confusion and annoyance, seemingly expressing his unhappiness with Nick¡¯s explanations. Now, for once, Nick had the pleasure of giving Nero that very same look. ¡°No, Nero. That doesn¡¯t make any sense. How about you start from the beginning and walk me through what happened.¡± Nero nodded, his face unusually calm and blank, the echo of his experience dulling his emotions. Turning away from Nick, he took a step toward where he remembered the tangled essence had been floating in front of them. Very gently, he let his psychic field expand over the area, once again allowing him to see what had been hidden from the material plane. Nero heard Nick¡¯s soft voice from behind him, ¡°Nero, now¡¯s not the time to experiment. Tell me what exactly happened. Ignore the essence knot for now, and just use your words.¡± Nero collapsed his field carefully, reinstating his essence barrier. By now, he just couldn¡¯t feel comfortable without it active. Forcing himself to turn away from the essence knot, he looked at Nick and nodded in agreement. ¡°Yeah, that¡¯s probably a good idea.¡± Nero took a deep breath, then started his story. ¡°A couple weeks ago I -¡± Nick interrupted harshly, ¡°Nero! I mean what happened just now. You died! I want to know how.¡± Nero¡¯s calm expression turned to a frown, and he replied, ¡°I¡¯m getting to that. Calm down, old man.¡± Nick replied with a huff, then crossed his arms and pouted. Seeing Nick¡¯s expression, Nero adopted a smirk. He could feel his emotions waking up, the world around him regaining a bit of life. After lightly clearing his throat, Nero began again, ¡°As I was saying, a couple weeks ago, I read about ¡®delving¡¯. At the time, I wasn¡¯t able to actually do it, but trying turned out to be great practice and allowed me to get a better sense of the world around me. Eventually, a day or two after training started with the elites, I managed to delve into the chair in my room in the barracks. Accidentally, I went a little too deep into the history of the chair and lost myself a little. Jennings somehow showed up¡­ I think he teleported right into my room, actually. Anyway, he pulled me back from wherever I was and explained what happened to me.¡± Nero paused his explanation, asking, ¡°You do know what ¡®delving¡¯ is right?¡± This story originates from Royal Road. Ensure the author gets the support they deserve by reading it there. Nick replied quickly, eager to get Nero to move it along. ¡°Delving is sending a part of your consciousness into the identity of something. Typically its used to determine providence of a material or object, or to examine someone¡¯s background to confirm their story. It¡¯s looking at the historical record of an essence signature.¡± Nero wouldn¡¯t have put it exactly like that, but then again, he wasn¡¯t a scholar. Nodding, Nero continued, ¡°Right. So anyway, Jennings warned me about keeping my mind intact when I was moving along an essence stream. He also warned me about not delving into things, because I¡¯m not strong enough to hold myself together. That¡¯s why I don¡¯t want you to say anything to him... Crap, you think he¡¯s watching us right now? Does he already know about what happened? That peeping son-of-a-bitch is never going to let me live this down.¡± Nick wasn¡¯t willing to let Nero go off on one of his rants and interrupted him again. ¡°Nero! What. Happened?¡± Nero shook off his anger at Jennings¡¯ pervy behavior and returned to his point. ¡°Right. Anyway, since then I¡¯ve noticed my mind getting stronger. Or, more accurately, my identity becoming more firm, more solid. It really helped me when I was screwing around with scrying people. You know, like that archer chick¡­ not Rose¡­ the other one. I mean the assassin one. I mean the assassin one that tried to kill me in the wilds.¡± Nick replied, ¡°Yes, I know who you mean. Go on.¡± Nero nodded, and continued, ¡°OK. So, my identity is pretty firm now. When I¡¯m examining things in my psychic field, I can get a pretty accurate picture of stuff. You know that I was always good at that. But I think I figured out why. It¡¯s my soul, Nick. You told me that the different fields are affected by the strength of the soul. Even though we didn¡¯t specifically cover scrying, I¡¯m almost positive that scrying works the same way.¡± Getting annoyed, Nick said, ¡°I know this Nero. Everyone knows this. What has that got to do with you dying? Don¡¯t tell me you think you delved into an essence knot. Not only would you be wrong, but I¡¯d have to question your intelligence, which up until now, I¡¯d actually thought was at least average.¡± Nero¡¯s reply was quick and unwavering. ¡°I did actually. Whether you believe me or not, I accidentally sent my consciousness into that tangle of essence, slipping through the essence strings. I think that¡¯s what did it actually. I was fine when I was just examining the outside, but when I tried to look at what was in between the strings, it¡¯s like I got sucked in. What I¡¯m trying to tell you is that I¡¯m only alive because I was able to keep my identity intact along the journey. I think I scried the other side of the ¡®essence knot¡¯, as you call it.¡± Nick¡¯s jaw dropped, and his voice dropped to a whisper. ¡°You can actually see the individual essence flows that make up the essence knot? That¡¯s amazing!¡± Nero nodded. ¡°Yeah. I told you that the detail in my psychic field is pretty good. But the point is, there is something on the other side of the thing. When I was pulled in, I think my soul came with me. It was weird, but after a bunch of sensations I can¡¯t describe, I got a sense of what¡¯s on the other side. It¡¯s like the essence in the air was translating the common knowledge or identity of the area. I finally understand what you meant when you said essence events are connecting our world to another plane or whatever. There was a dark, creepy forest, and an elf just standing there. He was some kind of scout, monitoring the other side of the essence event. Just being there, I learned all about him and where he came from. Also, I don¡¯t think the other side works the way it does on this side.¡± Nick nodded, full of enthusiasm. ¡°That makes sense. This event is a spawn point, which means that this side is pulling in identity information from another plane. I¡¯m guessing it¡¯s probably connected to one of the Elfen realms¡­ maybe the Darklands. But that doesn¡¯t really matter,¡± he said, waving the issue away as if it weren¡¯t remotely important. Returning to his main point, Nick said, ¡°What matters is that you somehow treated a spawn point as if it were an astral inflection point. You managed to actually travel through an essence knot that hasn¡¯t manifested a planar gate! That shouldn¡¯t be possible. No one has ever delved an essence knot before, they¡¯re too compact, the flows too severe. It¡¯s an unprecedented scientific marvel! I bet with some training, you might be able to manipulate the essence flows in order to alter an essence event into whatever you¡¯d like. Don¡¯t you understand?!? Nero, you might be able to influence dungeon development. That is a VERY big deal.¡± Nero could tell that Nick didn¡¯t seem to be understanding the bigger picture. Nero wanted him to focus on what was important, but he also realized that he didn¡¯t know how to explain it any better. So, rather than argue, he tried to move on. ¡°Yup. We¡¯ll have to discuss that at some point. But listen, when my soul was¡­.¡± Nero¡¯s voice trailed off, his thoughts started catching up with his mouth. From the sides of his perception field, he could sense both the sergeant and Rose¡¯s essence signatures. They were both bursting with interest, their attention fully focused on his conversation with Nick. Did he really want them to know that he managed to keep his mind intact while his soul was outside of his body? The implications of that were nuts. He might even be able to heal himself after he were killed. Or maybe he could take over a different dead body? Could he body-jump now? Nick¡¯s voice shook him from his thoughts. ¡°When your soul was what? You mean when you were dead, you ¡­.¡± Nero matched stares with Nick, his eyes full of worry, and he could see the moment that Nick realized the greater implications of what Nero was saying. If Nero was able to recount what happened when his body had been dead, then somehow he had been able to maintain his mind without a body. Nick¡¯s face lost all its color, and Nero worried that the old man was going to start freaking out. Before Nero could decide on how to prevent Nick from losing it, the old man awkwardly smiled and said, ¡°That explains why you weren¡¯t really dead. I had wondered why I could still sense an intact soul-space, but your body had the appearance of a corpse. While you appeared deceased, you were, in fact, just too distracted by the delve. I should have thought to check for that. Regardless, that¡¯s incredibly interesting.¡± Nero could see right through what Nick was trying to do, and he felt like his heart grew two sizes in response. ¡®This must be what the Grinch felt like when he discovered the meaning of Christmas. This old man is a true friend,¡¯ he thought. Nick¡¯s shoulders squared up, and he shook off his fear of Nero¡¯s odd achievement. Firming up his voice, he said, ¡°Well, let¡¯s get this spawn-point dealt with, then we can move on. I¡¯m sure we¡¯ll have plenty of time to talk about essence knot dynamic manipulation at a later date. For now, we have work to do.¡± Taking a step past Nero, he said, ¡°Now listen closely, and try and follow along with what I¡¯m doing. Do not under any circumstances probe the essence knot. I don¡¯t want a repeat of your accident. Let¡¯s just focus on clearing up the local essence flows and then we can talk about that later, OK?¡± Nero nodded, his face full of thanks. ¡°Sure, Nick, you got it. You talk. I listen and try not to do anything stupid. I know the drill.¡± Nick smiled at his friend, and replied, ¡°Right you are. OK. Here we go. The first thing you have to do is¡­¡± Chapter 134 - I knew it the moment I heard the words religious district. This wasn¡¯t the first time Rose had been near a spawn point. In fact, while following her old mentor, she¡¯d been involved in several officially sanctioned quests to deal with monster and beast outbreaks. Even though she hadn¡¯t ¡®personally¡¯ dealt with a spawn point, she understood the concept of an elimination quest well enough. It usually started with monsters or beasts showing up somewhere with increasing regularity. In response, the local government would contract a mage to find out the general area they were coming from. Afterward, a party was assembled, usually around 10 or 20 hunters. Said party then escorted a mage, or a seasoned hunter capable of dealing with an essence event, to the spawn point. Along the way, there were usually a few battles, maybe some arguing over loot, then someone would declare that they¡¯ve located the essence event. Everyone then stands around doing nothing, while a few high levels end up dealing with it. Ten minutes later, the party heads back to civilization to get paid. At least, that had been how her previous quests had gone. She never saw, sensed, or interacted with a spawn point. She obviously tried to follow along with what the mages and senior hunters were talking about, but she¡¯d only ever seen them waving their hands around at nothing, then abruptly declaring that the problem was solved. Now that she was with a new party, even taking into account the interruptions and unusual party composition, she had expected everything to pretty much follow the same general pattern. So, when she saw Lords Walker and Salvatore-Verena start waving their hands around, she didn¡¯t think much of it. In fact, she was lucky to still be paying attention when the little lord collapsed. It happened so quickly, she¡¯d almost missed it. Lord Walker was holding his hands up, as if he were caressing an invisible wall. Then, without warning, he went completely limp. Rose was able to see his muscles go slack, and his entire body awkwardly hit the ground in a tangle. The vacant look in his dead eyes was so shocking that it nearly knocked the wind out of her. She¡¯d seen people die¡­ but NOT like that. She was around 10 feet away, so it only took a moment for her to be standing over Lord Walker¡¯s body, unsure of what she should be doing. Lord Salvatore-Verena dragged the body flat, then started casting something. She assumed it was some kind of resuscitation magic. There was absolutely no doubt in her mind that the little lord was dead. The corpse¡¯s vacant eyes along with the smell of voided bowels made the situation disturbingly clear. But barely a minute or two later, the little lord was standing there completely fine. A cleaning spell cast almost as an after thought, and Lord Walker was once again verbally sparring with Lord Salvatore-Verena. ¡®What in all the hells just happened?¡¯ she wondered. She tried following along with what they were talking about, but the entire conversation seemed to fly over her head. Questions about what they were saying raced through her mind so fast that she didn¡¯t have a chance to focus on any one in particular. Wasn¡¯t ¡®delving¡¯ meant to identify what type of material something was made of? It couldn¡¯t be used on a person, could it? And she¡¯d never heard of it being used to clarify where something had come from. That was impossible, right? So, Lord Walker hadn¡¯t died? He went through the spawn point to the other side? But his body¡­ oh, it was like scrying? Is that really how scrying worked? She wasn¡¯t so sure about that. Manipulating dungeons? Wasn¡¯t that an arch-mage thing? She was pretty sure arch-mages were sent out to stabilize dungeons that were showing signs of breaking down, or failing, or some variation of that. She was sure her old mentor had mentioned something about that¡­ she was almost positive. To her chagrin, she just didn¡¯t know enough about magic to understand half of what they were talking about. Yet, she still did her best to pay attention to what they were saying, and more importantly, how they were saying it. As a result, Rose was almost certain that they were hiding something¡­ something monumental. Yet, she hadn¡¯t a clue what that could be. All too soon, the conversation was over, and the older mage began instructing the little lord on how to deal with the spawn point. Since Rose couldn¡¯t see what they were doing, or even understand what they were talking about, she quickly lost interest. Her gaze drifted past the two nobles, looking into the eyes of Sergeant Wesker. She could tell that he wasn¡¯t nearly as lost as she was. It was obvious that he was able to follow the conversation. But, she was a little surprised to see a look of boredom on his face. Perhaps she was wrong. They might not be hiding anything, maybe she just didn¡¯t know enough about what they were talking about. Not for the first time, she lamented the fact that she was put in this position. ¡®Don¡¯t worry about it, just keep your eyes and ears open, and focus on staying alive. Let the nobles, gods, and generals play their games, try to stay on the edges, and you¡¯ll be fine,¡¯ she reassured herself. ----- Unsurprisingly, Nero found Nick¡¯s explanation of how to deal with an essence knot unnecessarily complicated. Once they were finished dealing with what they came to do, Sergeant Wesker hadn¡¯t wasted any time, and the party was soon on their way to their second ¡®mark¡¯. The pace he set was quick, and he seemed bound and determined to get them to their target as soon as possible. At the moment, Nero was quick stepping over some shrubs and dead branches, doing his best to maintain his vigilance over his assigned area. It really wasn¡¯t that hard, he¡¯d had plenty of practice using his psychic field as an early warning system. He remembered reading that there was a way for high level hunters to use their fields to discourage attacks, but he wasn¡¯t currently in the mood to figure it out. His thoughts were stuck on how Nick had dealt with the spawn-point. The scene replayed itself in his head, over and over. He couldn¡¯t stop analyzing Nick¡¯s lecture describing what he had been doing. Nero felt that it conflicted with what the old man had actually done. Nick¡¯s words said that he was unraveling the essence knot, allowing the essence flows to return to their original streams. The theory being that essence knots were formed from large amounts of essence getting clumped together and creating rents in the fabric of the material plane. In order to smooth out those tangles, the entire essence knot had to be wrapped in a psychic field, one with a uniform essence signature¡­ or center, then shaken like a snow-globe. He was especially clear on the fact that the caster had to ensure that the local essence streams were allowed to pass unhindered through the psychic field, or the spawn point could collapse into a planar event. The difference between an essence event and a planar event was that an essence event didn¡¯t cross some density threshold or something. Planar events were full-on rips in space, and they were incredibly unpredictable. Nick then immediately contradicted himself by saying that it was almost impossible to manually create a planar event by collapsing an essence event, and only someone with an exceedingly thick essence field would be capable of the feat. Nero thought the whole thing sounded plausible, but also incredibly wordy and confusing. It was like someone trying to describe how a car engine worked by going into the details of ¡­ well, whatever happens inside a combustion engine. Nero honestly didn¡¯t know, and he really couldn¡¯t care less. The tale has been taken without authorization; if you see it on Amazon, report the incident. For Nero, what was important was what he saw while Nick had been ¡®unraveling¡¯ the essence knot. He saw Nick surround the tangled web of essence with his psychic field, imbue it with some of his center, then vibrate the field as if he were psychically humming. There were no streams, no essence flows, no interactions with the ambient essence at all. The tangled essence just separated, then vanished. It was like shaking an etch-a-sketch. The overlay of the weird, bent essence quickly dissipated, and the surrounding wilds returned to their usual essence signature. From Nero¡¯s perspective, it was unbelievably underwhelming. In fact, it had looked so easy to disrupt the essence knot, Nero didn¡¯t really understand how the things stayed together at all. It had barely taken any effort on Nick¡¯s part to deal with it, and Nero felt that someone should be able to do it through a scry with just their mind playing the part of a psychic lever. ¡®Come to think of it, why don¡¯t the mages just break them up from range? It shouldn¡¯t be too hard,¡¯ he thought to himself, a little annoyed at the thought that they might have come out here for nothing. An essence signature intruded on the edge of his psychic field. It was a far enough away that all he could tell was that it was a large, fuzzy disruption in his senses. Snapping out of his thoughts, he called out firmly, ¡°Contact left. Can¡¯t see it yet, but it¡¯s there.¡± The entire party halted and prepared. Forming a circle with Nick at the center. Nero pulled out his shield, and took the front position. He felt Rose and the sergeant switch places, allowing Rose to take the rear and the sergeant to join Nero at the front of the formation. While watching the approaching signature, Nero prepped his mage-armor. The feeling of imbuing the outer layer of his essence shield with purpose caused him to close his eyes and groan in concentration. The sensation was nowhere near being a practiced action, and it still managed to take all of his focus to complete it. Regardless, it only a took a few seconds, and he needed to get used to casting it. At least it was getting easier for him to let part of his focus handle it, while most of his attention remained free to deal with the actual combat. Yet, he still felt like he was overclocking a processor, and from the moment he cast it, he felt like a timer had started in his head. He was absolutely sure that he couldn¡¯t keep it up without suffering the mental deceleration that would result in him once again being enamored with butterflies. Refocusing his attention on the approaching essence field, he cocked his head in confusion. There were multiple signatures blending together. It wasn¡¯t like a mob, it was something different. Each of them was different, but also similar. It was like he recognized them¡­ kind of. Something seemed familiar with their essence fields, but he couldn¡¯t tell what it was. Before he could say anything, he heard Nick groan in annoyance. ¡°It¡¯s just an approaching hunter party. Looks like 8 of them I think,¡± he said, not sounding like he was worried in the least. Sergeant Wesker echoed Nick¡¯s annoyed groan, then said, ¡°Alright, everyone look relaxed, but keep your eyes open. No point in letting them get the jump on us if they turn out to be hostile. ¡®Stabbers¡¯ are rare, but it¡¯s best to be prepared.¡± Nero felt the translation of ¡®Stabbers¡¯ come through, and he couldn¡¯t stop himself from chuckling. Essentially, it meant a large group of weaklings that stabbed hard working people in the back in order to kill them and take their loot. ¡®What a great word,¡¯ he thought. Soon enough, a group appeared through the trees around 40 or 50 feet away, all of them dressed in various shades of fantasy chic. There were a couple leather clad rogues or rangers, some robe wearing mages, two full plated tanks, and even what looked like some kind of cleric sporting a staff topped with a glowing ball of light. Despite them all being human, Nero thought they looked ready for Comic-con. Though, in his opinion, one of them should really be an elf¡­ or at the very least, a dwarf. Nero watched Sergeant Wesker take a few steps forward, slinging his shield over his shoulder, somehow wedging it under his backpack. ¡®One of these days, I¡¯m really going to have to figure out how he does that,¡¯ he thought. It didn¡¯t take long for the approaching group to clear the remaining distance, and they lined up in a half circle about 10 ft off from Wesker, while one of the leather clad rogues continued forward, raising a hand in greeting. The rogue, or maybe ranger, was almost 6ft tall, attractive, and surprisingly female. It wasn¡¯t her gender that was surprising to Nero, it was that she had the same haircut as Wesker, almost like a flat top. Nero stifled a chuckle when he realized that she was, in fact, a ¡®she¡¯, and not just some androgynous looking dude. ¡°We seek peace. Our group is safe. I am Breanna, and this is my hunting party. We heard a rumor that an encampment is being erected in the area. Do you know if the army is allowing parties to base out of there yet?¡± she asked. Nero was close enough to get a good look at her equipment, and he thought the woman looked pretty capable. She was strapped full of knives, and she had a bow along with a quiver of arrows slung across her back. The sword at her side didn¡¯t look out of place, and her essence field felt strong. If he had to guess, she wasn¡¯t as strong as Wesker, but she felt much stronger than Rose did. He could barely feel Rose at all. Whether that was due to her low level, or something else, he didn¡¯t know¡­ but once that thought crossed his mind, he couldn¡¯t help but wonder why he hadn¡¯t noticed it before. Nero couldn¡¯t see the sergeant¡¯s face, as he was facing away from him, but he could tell the man¡¯s mood wasn¡¯t very happy based on his essence signature. The man took his time answering the question, but eventually he replied in what seemed like some kind of prescribed greeting, ¡°Safety in groups. Peace in the wilds. As far as I know, the encampment is still being built. For now, it is only for Dorchester¡¯s elites, and I seriously doubt that changed. Where exactly did you hear that rumor?¡± The woman, Breanne, didn¡¯t seem fazed at the question. ¡°Two days ago, we left Dorchester with a few quests in hand. The assigning agent at the Hunter¡¯s Hall said that there might be an army encampment being set up in the area, and we should keep an eye out for it. He didn¡¯t offer any details, or say anything else. I think he was just trying to be helpful. Was it supposed to be some kind of secret?¡± she asked, a little amused at the sergeant¡¯s brusque manner. Wesker replied quickly, ¡°No. It¡¯s not a secret, but it shouldn¡¯t be common knowledge either. I¡¯ll be sure to pass on your request to my superiors when I see them. Now, we¡¯ve already been delayed by¡­ unforeseen complications¡­ and I¡¯d prefer to keep any future encounters with any hunters to a minimum. I hope you understand that we have nothing to offer you.¡± Breanne shrugged easily, and said, ¡°Very well, we¡¯ll be on our way. We didn¡¯t search you out if that¡¯s what you¡¯re worried about. Our surveillance mage just sensed an odd essence signature in the air, and we came to check it out.¡± One of the robed individuals from the hunters side coughed lightly to bring attention to himself, then said loudly, ¡°It¡¯s the short one. The one hiding behind the tower shield.¡± His voice was light, as if Nero was somehow funny to him. Breanne¡¯s eyes looked past the sergeant, focusing on Nero. From her perspective, she could see a 4 ft tall tower shield being held a few inches off the ground, and a white mop of hair floating above a youthful pair of eyes peeking over the top. She also found the sight amusing and offered the tiny hunter a smile. Nero¡¯s eyes furrowed, and he could see the humor dancing in the woman¡¯s eyes at his agitation, but he didn¡¯t respond to their provocations. He wasn¡¯t going to drop his guard, as he knew that people generally sucked, so he was perfectly happy letting the sergeant deal with the newcomers. He¡¯d hide behind his shield, and anyone that wanted to point and laugh was welcome to it. He¡¯d be more than happy to trade his pride for safety. Their opinion didn¡¯t matter to him in the least, at least that¡¯s what he told himself. Wesker looked over his shoulder, appraising Nero. It was obvious that he wondered what the surveillance mage was talking about. What was so odd about Nero¡¯s essence signature that they were interested in ¡®checking it out¡¯? On the hunter¡¯s side, the man dressed as a cleric took a step forward. His white robes and glowing staff caused everyone to turn their attention to him. He had a weird look on his face, and his voice was full of excitement when he asked, ¡°Are you the new Lord Walker? The one the Temple of the Sun spoke about?¡± Nero had no idea what the guy was talking about, so he didn¡¯t reply. However, Sergeant Wesker¡¯s response was a little more obvious. His shoulders tensed, and he stood straight up, almost at attention. ¡°What are you talking about? He¡¯s just an elite hunter¡¯s apprentice. Though, what¡¯s this about Lord Walker?¡± he asked, pretending that Nero wasn¡¯t anyone worth mentioning. Breanne crossed her arms and glared at the white-robed man. Her voice was harsh when she said, ¡°I told you to limit your sermons to the camp-fire. No one wants to hear about whatever ridiculous interpretation of events your superiors are currently promoting. We¡¯re here for a job¡­ and we¡¯re going to stick to it.¡± The man didn¡¯t back down, seemingly surprising Breanne with his persistence. ¡°If he¡¯s really the Lord Walker, the one responsible for freeing us from Dorchen¡¯s curse, then we owe it to him to offer whatever aid we can. Refusing to support him is tantamount to aiding in the destruction of Dorchester. If the Lord Walker requires anything, then I for one will give it.¡± Now Nero was even more confused. What the hell was the Dorchen curse? And did she say sermons¡­ like religious sermons? Nick¡¯s voice was louder than necessary, and filled with mirth. ¡°I¡¯m sorry to interrupt. But did you say there was a sermon about Lord Walker? What do the faithful of the Goddess Serine have to say about him?¡± he asked happily, seemingly very pleased with what he was hearing. Nero looked over his shoulder, glaring at Nick with every ounce of hatred he could summon. Even though he also wanted to hear more, as this was his first real brush with this world¡¯s religions, he couldn¡¯t stop his stomach from clenching with worry. ¡®Doesn¡¯t he know it¡¯s a bad idea to encourage religious nut-jobs! That¡¯s like rule one in surviving in any fantasy environment. Does that son-of-a-bitch want to get me martyred or something!¡¯ he thought to himself. Chapter 135 - Whatever it is you believe in, I agree with you, so dont ask me about it. While Kendra was focused on the data being collected by their essence scanners, she did her best to ignore the sounds of work being done in the central power room. The city¡¯s engineers were currently working hard to bring the massive power generator online. Once active, it would provide the first 5 levels of the mountain complex with power, allowing the city to start getting the other facilities up and running. There was a massive amount of work to do before the mountain city was ready to receive the immigrants fleeing from the density shift. And before any of that happened, these scans had to be done and the complex¡¯s safety level needed to be ascertained. Kendra saved the data set she was working on, then stood up from her chair to take a break. Taking a few steps away from the folding travel table they were using for their equipment, she looked around the dimly lit room. Their current ¡®lab¡¯ left a great deal to be desired. As part of Mountain Team 5, they¡¯d been down in here for hours, and even if everything proceeded according to plan, they¡¯d be spending the next few nights here. She mentally pushed her annoyance with the situation to the back of her head, it wasn''t productive to dwell on it. With her hands behind her hips, she stretched her back while groaning in relief. ¡®This type of work should really be done in a lab. Making us analyze the data on-site is completely unnecessary. Not to mention, insulting,¡¯ she thought to herself. A voice from behind her called out, ¡°Hey Kendra, come over here and take a look at this. Tell me what you see.¡± She looked over at her partner, David, who was currently staring at several holograms with a slight frown on his face. Even though she¡¯d known him for years, she couldn¡¯t tell if he was worried, interested, or just confused. Since they¡¯d left the lab, his social skills were getting worse every day. Sighing at the thought of how dull her only companion was, she walked over to see what he was talking about. Taking her place behind him, she looked over his shoulder to see holograms depicting several isolated sections of the tunnel complex, complete with essence density overlays and range-variance calculations. Not seeing anything terribly interesting, she asked, ¡°What am I supposed to be looking at?¡± David raised his hand, pointing at one of the holographic projections, and said, ¡°Does this look right to you?¡± She narrowed her eyes, staring hard at the data, trying to find anything out of the ordinary. The map showed a large underground farming enclosure, complete with housing towers and support facilities. It was the first large section of the mountain city, and the closest area to where they currently were. Glancing at the essence scans, along with the calculation parameters, she didn¡¯t see anything out of place. It looked like what she would have expected a farming zone inside the a mountain city to look like. Not seeing anything worth mentioning, she replied, ¡°Nothing is jumping out at me. Is there something I¡¯m missing?¡± David¡¯s voice carried a whisper of worry when he replied, ¡°Don¡¯t these essence flows look a little active for a farming zone which is supposedly abandoned?¡± With a curious frown on her face, she went over the numbers again. Using her link to reference some typical ambient essence profiles from the historical records, she compared the data sets. ¡°That IS surprising. You¡¯d think that after 600 years of inactivity, the profile wouldn¡¯t look this active. Maybe it¡¯s an echo of the past signature interfering with the ranged scanners? That might explain why the mages are having trouble scrying into the old tunnels, even with the help of the Tower of Magic¡¯s focusing crystals.¡± David didn¡¯t say anything in response. He just grunted lightly, indicating his skepticism. They both watched the screens in silence, staring at the constantly updating essence profiles. Both of them were used to this type of lab work, waiting for more data before coming to any conclusions. Besides, the likelihood that there were still people living down there after all this time was ridiculous, so there had to be a more reasonable explanation. Not to mention, that this was the first farming zone they¡¯d scanned, so they currently didn¡¯t have anything to compare it to. Most likely, it would be at least a week before their team was allowed deep enough into the mountain to find another farm which would allow them to form a comparative profile. Time passed, and they focused on their work. In their small room, they were isolated from the controlled chaos of the rest of Mountain Team 5. So, it came as quite the shock when the door to their ¡®lab¡¯ was thrown open. Both Kendra and David jumped in their seats, their eyes widening at the sight of a soldier covered in blood with one leg missing a boot and the pant-leg, his sword and shield brandished in preparation for violence. Rushing into the room, the soldier carefully scanned the corners, looking for threats, completely ignoring the two lab attendants. While Kendra froze in shock, her mind stuttering to a halt. David was much older, and much harder to rattle. He immediately thought through the implications of what he was seeing and asked, ¡°Did you lose your leg in combat? It looks freshly regrown. Who were you fighting?¡± Kendra¡¯s mind restarted, her analytical skills following David¡¯s line of logic. She asked, almost immediately after David finished speaking, ¡°Are we in danger?¡± Apparently coming to the conclusion that the room was clear of threats, the soldier replied, ¡°Yes, we are in danger. Gather everything you can, as soon as you can, we¡¯re heading back to the surface immediately. Be sure to leave nothing behind.¡± Neither Kendra or David moved a muscle, both of them equal parts confused and frightened. Seeing that they weren¡¯t jumping into action, the soldier lifted up the front of his helm, sliding it up to reveal his face. He adopted an understanding look, the same look a parent gives a frightened child, and said, ¡°There is nothing to be concerned about. We¡¯re handling it. But I need you both to start getting this equipment stored immediately. The front-line isn¡¯t going to hold forever, and we need to get you civilians to the surface as soon as possible. Now, get moving.¡± Kendra and David started shutting down their equipment, speeding up as they sensed the impatience rolling off the soldier¡¯s essence field. David didn¡¯t pause his hasty collection of the equipment, but he did ask, ¡°What exactly is the situation out there?¡± The soldier was currently staring blankly into the air, obviously communicating through his link, most likely through a private military channel. He didn¡¯t respond to David¡¯s question, instead he just continued focusing on what he was hearing. David and Kendra shared a worried look, not liking the fact that the soldier seemed too preoccupied to answer a simple question. It took almost 20 minutes of focused work to get all the scanners and gear to be powered down, disconnected, and stored for travel. It wasn¡¯t perfect, but it was the best they could do with the pressure of the soldier impatiently hovering over them¡­ silently urging them to hurry up. Reading on this site? This novel is published elsewhere. Support the author by seeking out the original. Slinging their packs over their shoulders, they took one last look around to see if they missed anything. Finally ready, Kendra asked hesitantly, ¡°Can you please tell us what¡¯s going on?¡± The soldier seemed to snap back to reality, looking approvingly around the room. ¡°Looks good. Now, when we leave here, please stay behind me. We¡¯re one of the last groups to leave. Most of the engineers are already gone, and we don¡¯t have anyone else to spare guiding you to the surface. Once we get to the main corridor, follow the trail left for you and report back to the surface as soon as you can. Keep the talking to a minimum, your eyes open, and call out of if you see anything. Ready?¡± David¡¯s voice was calm, but firm. ¡°Before we go anywhere, I want to know what¡¯s out there.¡± The soldier met David¡¯s stare and replied, ¡°Apparently Kobalds have taken over the mountain city. Somehow they broke the wards, got in, united several tribes, and as far as we could tell, it looks like they have progressed to a class 5 city threat. They must have been breeding for centuries, right under our noses. So, most likely, we will soon be at war.¡± Kendra felt her hands start to tremble, and she looked over at David, her face paling. David gave her an encouraging nod, indicating that they would make it through this. Returning the nod with a forced smile, she tightened the straps on her backpack. ¡®This kind of shit never happened when I was in my lab,¡¯ she complained to herself. ----- Nero felt the hairs on the back of his neck stand up in protest to the all the attention he was receiving. He could feel the various eyes trying to subtly sneak glances at him, judging him, wondering about him. After they¡¯d had a delightfully awkward conversation about his supposed divinely sanctioned aid in clearing the ¡®Dorchen curse¡¯, Nick had been able to convince Sergeant Wesker to let the group of hunters join them in dealing with their next ¡®mark¡¯. Apparently between the sergeant¡¯s desire to get their assignment finished before nightfall, and the cleric¡¯s misplaced hero-worship of Nero, any reservations the man had were met. Now, their group had ballooned to 13 and Nero was surrounded by people overly interested in his life. The worst part about it was that the sergeant no longer cared about keeping everyone quiet. Since the group was now large enough to deal with anything they might come across, he¡¯d assigned Nero to the middle of the group, sandwiched between Nick and the cleric. While everyone else was focusing on the flanks, Nero was doing his best to explain to the cleric, who was charmingly named Brian, that to the best of his knowledge, he was NOT sent by the goddess Serine. Furthermore, while he may have had a hand in the events surrounding the latest noble war, he had not been the one to actually end the Dorchen line. And as far as saving the city, that responsibility fell on the shoulders of the city¡¯s military. As a new noble, he¡¯d of course do all he could to help, but he was unfortunately unable to shoulder such a monumental responsibility. Brian didn¡¯t buy it at all. Currently, Nick was smiling ear to ear, encouraging Brian¡¯s misunderstanding with not-so-subtle praise for Nero¡¯s accomplishments¡­ and everyone around them was able to listen in on his bullshit. ¡°You see¡­ Lord Walker¡¯s soul came here from a harsh land. He still has memories of great battles between powerful trade states determined to use any and all means to eliminate their enemies. In the world he came from, it wasn¡¯t the wilds that were the threat, it was the men and women standing right next to him! Naturally, this has provided the young man with an insight into the nefarious schemes of the most vicious players in the game. It was this insight that allowed him to see through former Lord Dorchen¡¯s plot to reclaim the seat of Dorchester. Without his warning, the noble war might still be going on to this day,¡± Nick said, his voice full of false pride, laced with an undercurrent of humor. Nero glared up Nick, not finding the situation remotely amusing. From his right, he heard Brian respond. ¡°It¡¯s fascinating that so much could be changed by the inclusion of one variable. Did you know that the Tower of Fate in Hennings had actually predicted the fall of Dorchester? It¡¯s true! Can you believe they kept quiet about it¡­ only alerting some of their most fiscally supportative adherents to the prophecy. The rumor is that many powerful families have invested a great deal in plans that are contingent on Dorchester not surviving this leveling event,¡± the cleric said, his tone full of righteous anger and disappointment. Nero didn¡¯t exactly follow what the cleric was saying, but he listened anyway. The Tower of Fate sounded like stock brokers doing insider trading, that is if he understood what they were talking about. Nick replied easily, ¡°I hadn¡¯t heard that. However, I¡¯m not surprised. There is a reason the Tower of Fate¡¯s influence hasn¡¯t spread to all the cities of Oglivarch. There have been many papers proving the hazards of playing with fate, yet those bastards continue doing it. You know that there are actually several laws limiting their powers in regards to their fate-weaving? As for me, I side with the Tower of Magic in regards to this issue. They believe that the old king¡¯s matrix was never intended to be used as a tool for benefits, it was merely created to stave off losses.¡± Brian replied as if he were campaigning for office, ¡°Well said! The Temple of the Sun relies on the goddess for guidance. Only those who¡¯ve reached the higher planes can see the flows of fate clearly enough to aid our growth. It¡¯s through our connection to them that we may get through these trying times. As long as we remember her, she will continue to work tirelessly for us, turning fate to our favor, and preparing us for the trials that we will face in the coming days.¡± Nero couldn¡¯t stop himself from rolling his eyes at the religious propaganda. Feeling the cleric¡¯s hand land gently on his shoulder, he nearly jumped in surprise. Repressing the urge to violently shake off the offending appendage, he looked up the smiling cleric with what he hoped could be construed as an equally ''honest'' smile. Meeting Nero''s earnest eyes, Brian said, ¡°I, and many others, thank her for sending you to us. Whether you believe she helped guide you here doesn¡¯t matter, we trust in her and we support you. I know that you will lead us to victory in these trying times.¡± Nero didn¡¯t know how to respond, but he knew that he had to be careful. In his last life, he had once gotten a little too drunk at a friends barbecue. Surrounded by suburban Lutherans and Catholics, he made the mistake of asking if Catholics believed they could talk directly to God like the Lutherans or if they still thought they had to use a priest to pass their messages along. Like it was some kind of spiritual ¡®telephone¡¯ game. After all, wasn¡¯t that what caused Luther to leave the Catholic church and start his own? To this day, he could still recall the look on his buddy¡¯s mom¡¯s face when she accused him of being an instigator, and told him that he was acting as an agent of the devil, only here to try and ruin her barbecue. Had he actually been TRYING to piss people off, he might have been offended. But he had honestly wondered about that question¡­ which he still didn¡¯t have an answer to. After all, he wasn¡¯t stupid enough to ask that question TWICE! He really hadn¡¯t been trying to start shit, but alcohol must really be the devil¡¯s juice, because however he worded the question, was NOT the right way to go about it. He had no problems with religion as a concept. In fact, any faith that caused people to be a little less horrible with each other was all-right in his book. Regardless, now he was plodding through a forest of nightmares, with an honest to God¡­ gods¡­ whatever cleric, and he didn¡¯t want to get ¡®smited¡¯¡­ ¡®smitten¡¯¡­ or even ¡®smote¡¯ for being a smart-ass. So, he was doing his best to choose his words carefully. The worst part about it was that he could feel Nick¡¯s essence field humming with happiness at Nero¡¯s caution. The old man was enjoying the hell out of seeing Nero worried about how someone would take his words for once. Nero looked up at the smiling cleric and said, ¡°I thank you for your support. But please understand, I¡¯m sure that although this might be part of some large cosmic plan, I have no knowledge of it. Also, I know very little about your religion, so hopefully you¡¯ll not be offended by any accidental insult I might give you or your goddess.¡± Brian patted Nero¡¯s shoulder and said, ¡°We of the Sun¡¯s faithful do not offend easily. We just do our part to help the kingdom in our own way. If you¡¯d like to learn of our order, I¡¯d be more than happy to teach you.¡± Nick immediately spoke for Nero, ¡°He¡¯d love to learn more about the religious district and its place in our kingdom. I haven¡¯t had a chance to explain how we view religion here, and I¡¯m sure he¡¯s eager to hear about the various temples and, of course, the goddess Serine.¡± Nero offered Nick a deadpan stare for a few seconds, then turned back to Brian with a fake smile and said, ¡°Yup, I¡¯d love to hear about your lord and savior Serine. Lay it on me.¡± Brian¡¯s smile made him look every inch the Sunday morning pastor Nero expected him to be. ¡®I swear to Serine, I¡¯m going to pay Nick back for this. I¡¯m going to find whatever this world¡¯s equivalent of Jehovah¡¯s Witnesses are, and then I¡¯m gonna put him on a list to receive weekly home visits from them for the entirety of the next year!¡¯ he promised himself, while forcing a plastic smile to stretch across his face. Chapter 136 - The practicality of religion. General Branson scrolled through the latest proposal for updated appropriations standards at the Hunter¡¯s Hall. In the past, the amount of local essence crystal production made the issue relatively simple. For years, the wilds surrounding Dorchester were relatively safe. If and when hunters were sent out for specific quests and contracts, the taxes were handled on a case by case basis. Now, they were saying that system was no longer feasible. As he scanned through the supporting paperwork, he saw what the Tower of Trade was talking about. It no longer made sense to go through each quest¡¯s after-action report in detail. There just weren¡¯t enough attendants to handle the load. Dorchester was going to have to adopt the more common model of arrival interviews handled by the gate guards. Most larger cities currently do it this way, and hundreds of years ago, Dorchester used to do the same. He sighed heavily. This meant that he would have to temporarily pull men away from the wilds and aid the city¡¯s garrisons until more guards could be trained. ¡®At least we¡¯ll be putting this new income to good use. Now, where is the status report on the wall cannons,¡¯ he wondered, while flicking through the holograms to find what he was looking for. An alarm went off in his link, an emergency update concerning an eminent threat to the city. His screens tinted red, and a new ping appeared at the top of his incoming messages. His eyes widened a little, but he didn¡¯t panic. Smoothly closing the files he had been working on, he brought up the emergency alert¡¯s details. Quickly scanning through the situation summary, his jaw dropped open in shock. Kobalds? Seriously? Shooting up from his desk, he marched toward the door to his office, waving his hand to throw open the doors. After making his way into his outer office, he stared hard at his aides, his loud voice was both calm and full of steel, ¡°Summon all commanders to the situation room. Emergency teleports are authorized. I want them there in 5 minutes. Activate the wall defense protocols, along with the military¡¯s Hub-override. I want the information office sending out updates immediately. Recall any units we have contact with outside the walls. We need them back here as soon as possible.¡± The moment the general had started speaking, the aides had started working. As he rattled off orders, they smoothly carried them out without question. The holograms on their desks flickered quickly, chunks of information being sent out to all corners of Dorchester. Seeing his aides rising to the challenge, unquestioningly following his orders, the general¡¯s heart swelled with pride. ¡®We may not be a large city¡­ but we know what we¡¯re about,¡¯ he thought to himself. ¡°After you finish here, join me in the situation room. From now on, that¡¯s where we¡¯ll be working,¡± he said, then marched off through the outer office doors into the hallway. He could see the red lights pulsing in warning along the edges of the ceiling, alerting everyone in central command to the gravity of the situation. As he walked, he read through the reports coming out of the Gate 22 command center. In addition to the three full squads still unaccounted for, there were over 300 confirmed casualties. The commander on-site, Commander Johan Gallegos, was right¡­ they were at war. This wasn¡¯t a monster swarm, or a beast wave. This was a hostile civilization invading through their blind spot. If their forces weren¡¯t able to hold them back long enough, the fighting could very well spill into the city. If it got bad enough, they could lose all of Gate 22. ¡®That will NOT happen,¡¯ he said to himself. Arriving at the emergency astra-teleportation platform, he nodded to the attending technician. The young woman looked stern and capable, her hands flying over the controls with precision and skill. Voice was calm and steady, she said, ¡°Teleportation coordinates set to the arrival zone outside the War Council chambers in the keep, sir. Let me know when you¡¯re ready.¡± Taking his place on the platform, he glanced over at her and replied, ¡°Good to go.¡± With a flash of light, the general watched his surroundings change. He appeared in a reinforced room at the base of the keep, the platform he was standing on was just one of many. Alongside him were several other platforms currently filling with his commanders. Not wasting time, he marched through the doors to the situation room. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw the tall ornate doors to his left. Through there was the War Council chambers. ¡®I won¡¯t let it come to that,¡¯ he promised himself. Around a giant circular table, several commanders were already working at their screens, coordinating the army¡¯s withdrawal from the wilds and preparing to address this new threat to their city. Taking his place at the table, he leaned over his fists and addressed the men and women charged with defending the people of Dorchester. His voice carried through the room, subtly infused with essence, ¡°You all read the reports coming out of Gate 22. I want each and every command center to send me a report of what forces you have available to reinforce the mountain gate. Pull them off the road crews if you have to. The refugees from the outer villages and towns will have to wait. We need to solidify a front before we can begin cleaning out these vermin from our ancestral halls. We can worry about who is responsible for letting this happen later, for now¡­ we have a threat to eliminate, and eliminate it we will. Get to work.¡± All around him, the commanders nodded in agreement, their faces filled with quiet determination. The room was silent, as most of the communication was being handled through their links. But the ambient essence hummed with their unified purpose. Every one of them was focused like a laser on the task at hand. They may have been preparing for a beast wave, but they were always ready to defend their walls. ----- Nero had expected a sermon on the evils of the world, or proselytizing on glories of the Temple of the Sun, but that wasn¡¯t at all what he got. Brian, the cleric, introduced him to this world¡¯s religions as if he were a recruiter at a job fair. Even combat didn¡¯t blunt his enthusiasm for the subject. While maintaining his charming smile, Brian launched glowing rays of light that struck their companions, surrounding them with a subtle white glow. With a happy undercurrent to his voice, he said, ¡°You see Lord Walker, this is one of the many abilities granted through the connection to our goddess. She is always there for us, supporting our efforts, healing our wounds, and watching over her adherents.¡± Nero stood near the back of the party, well away from the combat, awkwardly listening to the cleric while Nick stood on his other side calmly observing the fight. The rest of the party was currently dealing with a group of over-sized boar-type monsters that were mutated and had spiky protrusions sticking up out of their spines. It was strange to see 8 foot tall bulging bundles of muscle with snouts resembling a pig crossed with a crocodile. He didn¡¯t know if he should be horrified, disgusted, or amused. Sergeant Wesker and the hunter party¡¯s front-line fighters had corralled three large monsters into a group, forcing them all into one area so the ranged party members could finish them off. Cathleen was launching spears that she kept pulling out of her personal space, while Rose and the other archers launched arrows with pin-point accuracy. The hunter party archers were imbuing spells or abilities into their arrows, and the effects were varied, but powerful. Love this novel? Read it on Royal Road to ensure the author gets credit. Nero watched as one of the archers fired an arrow which emitted a yellow mist, slightly glowing with contained power. It slammed into one of the monster''s sides, exploding a chunk of meat with a loud ¡®pop¡¯, disgustingly sounding like pop-corn going off. At the same time, nimble fighters danced around the edges of the fight, slashing with glowing swords and daggers, hamstringing the freakish things and limiting their movements. Even the hunter party¡¯s mage joined in, occasionally lobbing balls of what looked like summoned mud onto the back¡¯s of the monsters, clinging to the protrusions and dripping down over the large bodies. Nero had no idea what it was supposed to be doing, but he doubted it was just for show. Meanwhile, Nick had told Nero to just hang back and watch how professionals fought. So, he was stuck there listening to Brian narrate the fight, while extolling the virtues of being a follower of the goddess Serine. ¡°By connecting to the light of Serine, we are able to channel her power for the aid of humanity. The light can do many things. It can heal, enhance attributes, even protect us from harm. Look there, you see how Marsha is moving? She¡¯s not that fast¡­ it¡¯s the goddess that is helping her move like that,¡± the cleric said, absently gesturing with his glowing staff at one of the dagger wielding rogues who was currently glowing with one of his buffs. Nero figured it was like divine channeling in any number of stories, so he wasn¡¯t too impressed. Rather than say that, he smiled lightly and nodded, pretending to be impressed. ¡°So, is it just a matter of faith? Or did you sell your¡­ I mean, dedicate your soul to her cause or something? How do you make this connection?¡± Either not catching Nero¡¯s slip, or just not caring, Brian replied, ¡°Well, in order to borrow the goddesses power, one must join the Temple of the Sun. Through a ritual we are allowed to glimpse her fields in the upper planes. Once there, if she finds you worthy, she will allow you to connect your center to her light. With that connection, you will find a well-spring of power at your finger-tips. You will be able to cast for hours, with barely any strain on your reserves.¡± Skeptical, Nero wanted to ask, ¡®What¡¯s the catch?¡¯ However, he managed to hold himself back. Luckily Nick chimed in, seemingly interested in the subject. ¡°It¡¯s actually a fascinating phenomenon. There has been some interesting work done in the Eastern cities concerning planar channeling. By connecting to the various planes, essence streams are pulled through the ether within the caster¡¯s soul. Although the uses are limited, it is still a powerful technique. Albeit one with quite a few drawbacks,¡± he said. While they were chatting amiably, the rest of the party was still pounding the monsters into submission. Glancing at the battle, Nero could see one of the boar¡¯s faces was ruined, half its head replaced by a smoking crater. It toppled over, clearly dead, leaving the remaining two to rage at the sight of their fallen comrade. ¡®Maybe these are pack animals or something?¡¯ he wondered, the idle thought fleeting across his mind. Brian¡¯s voice stole back Nero¡¯s attention. ¡°While it¡¯s true that divine channeling doesn¡¯t promote level stress at the same rate as magic training, it makes up for it with much larger power reserves. And there is nothing wrong with being a specialized caster,¡± he said, almost like he was used to having this argument with mages. Seizing the opportunity, Nero asked, ¡°So that¡¯s the only drawback? What do the ¡®adherents¡¯ give up to gain this power?¡± Brian didn¡¯t seem offended, and answered easily, ¡°Well, you ARE tying your soul to that plane of existence. When you die, you are shepherded into the afterlife through that conduit. So, in a way, you are entrusting your soul to whatever deity you choose to align yourself with. Therefore, you must find one that aligns with your principles, otherwise your afterlife may not be all that enjoyable.¡± Nero¡¯s face twisted in confusion. His mouth moving faster than his caution could handle, he asked, ¡°So you guys actually get to choose your afterlife like you''re looking at a take-out menu? That¡¯s crazy. What made you choose the goddess Serine? And how do you know that you''re actually going to get what she¡¯s promised? Also, what does she get out of this arrangement?¡± Nick chuckled, and Brian threw his head back in a hearty laugh. ¡°Bah, it¡¯s good to be young and naive. Our goddess gains power by tying our identities to her plane. As more followers join her in the Plains of Eternity, the plane itself becomes more robust. Eventually, it might even become material. Goddess Serine is young, only a few millennia old, so her plane is still developing. Of course, we can look into how she treats her followers and we know what awaits us when we get there. She is not a demon who offers power for false promises, or a devil who tricks the overly-ambitious with lies wrapped in truth,¡± he said, finishing his speech with some casual hatred thrown in toward what Nero thought were mythical creatures. Nero¡¯s eyebrows shot up, but he didn¡¯t say anything. After all, it kinda made sense that devils and demons existed here. He¡¯d heard Nick and Jennings talk about the lower planes, and people seemed to swear by using phrases like, ¡®hells be damned!¡¯ or ¡®what in all the hells?¡¯ and other such nonsense. The sounds of battle stopped, and Nero looked over at the party. No one even seemed out of breath. Cathleen walked over and casually collected her spears while keeping an eye on her surroundings. Rose was exchanging words with the archers, probably getting tips on her chosen profession. Even Sergeant Wesker was casually pulling out his essence collection rod. The entire scene was just too weird. There was no ¡®tension¡¯ in the air, and the lack of excitement made Nero feel a little uncomfortable. Nero¡¯s thoughts were interrupted by Nick. The old man said, ¡°There are a lot of churches throughout Oglivarch. Normally when a child reaches the age of awakening, they choose which belief most closely aligns with their personal principles. There are a few classes at the center which cover the local religions, they¡¯re usually sponsored by the religious district. The Temple of the Sun is currently the most popular choice among residents of Dorchester, or at least it was the last time I checked.¡± Brian cheerfully added, ¡°Yes it is! We are also the most prolific in our outreach programs. There are classes on channeling and personal development, plus combat instruction in the ways of the light, and sponsorship opportunities for new businesses willing to partner with the temple.¡± Nero wasn¡¯t really understanding how the whole religion thing worked. It seemed more like a club than a religion. There must be something he was missing. Looking up at the cheerful cleric, he asked, ¡°So what do the different religions believe in? Is there a holy scripture or something that you¡¯re required to follow? Or some great evil that you are dedicated to fighting? Like, what¡¯s your biggest moral outrage at the moment?¡± Brian looked down at Nero, a little confused at the question. Not knowing what to say, he looked over at Nick, silently asking for a translation. Nick chuckled and said, ¡°Nero¡¯s asking about your doctrine of faith.¡± Brian¡¯s smile returned, and he said, ¡°Oh! I see. Well, every church is different, but we at the Temple of the Sun are primarily dedicated to agricultural development and the growth of civilization. But, like all legally validated faiths, we are dedicated to removing the influence of the lower planes from our society. Wherever there is the stink of corruption, we will be there to stamp it out. Our kingdom¡¯s roots will not be strangled by the evils of the hells be damned nightmares that stalk our plane from below.¡± Yup, that¡¯s the kind of hatred Nero was expecting from a religious nut-job. However, he had to admit that it didn¡¯t sound so crazy when there was actual scientific evidence of what the hells actually looked like. This wasn¡¯t the first time his preconceptions were challenged by his new reality, so he handled it well enough. Coughing lightly to clear his throat, Nero decided to refocus the conversation on what he thought was more important. ¡°So, you guys don¡¯t have any particular issue with alcohol, or same-sex marriage, or any of that kind of thing?¡± Brian stared at Nero with utter confusion for a good five seconds. ¡°Um¡­ I¡¯m not exactly sure what you¡¯re asking. The faithful of Serine are dedicated to farming and growth. If that¡¯s not for you, I guess you could look into some of the other faiths. There is the Temple of Victory, that might be more what you¡¯re looking for. They host monthly revels that I hear get pretty wild.¡± Nero¡¯s eyes widened, realizing that his question had been seriously misinterpreted. He could practically feel Nick staring down at him from the other side. Turning his head, he expected to see Nick¡¯s amusement or judgment, but all he saw was the old man giving him a look of confusion. Meeting Nero¡¯s eyes, Nick asked with all seriousness, ¡°If you¡¯re interested in males, then why are you always staring at Rose in the showers?¡± Nero felt the heat rising in his cheeks, the embarrassment hitting him hard. ¡®So this is what those damn anime characters are always feeling. It must be an underlying rule of the omniverse to have to put up with crap like this,¡¯ he thought with some anger, pissed that such a clich¨¦ actually happened to him. Refusing to continue with this subject, Nero gestured to the rest of the party gathering back into formation. ¡°We should get moving. We don¡¯t want the sergeant to get any grumpier.¡± As Nero stomped off, Brian and Nick shared a look of confusion. Nick shrugged to the cleric, indicating that he had no idea what that was all about, then followed after his young friend. Brian watched them walk off, then jogged to catch up, calling out, ¡°That¡¯s not to say that the Temple of the Sun doesn¡¯t know how to hold a party. You know, we host monthly mixers where the newly joined members can get to know each other¡­¡± As the cleric continued exhorting the virtues of his faith, Nero did his best to ignore him. Like everything else in this world, the religions here were just ¡®off¡¯. Chapter 137 - Making your perception check. Lord Cosgrave had been all too happy to put the recent events out of her mind and get back to running her city. Now unencumbered by the threat of her possible execution, she was in her office catching up on the paperwork she had been ignoring. With a smile, she took a sip of her coffee and reveled in the return to the status-quo. By now, Lord Walker should be back in the wilds, and finally out of her hair. General Branson would once again be focused on the defense of the city, his handling of the density shift taking up most of his time. The Arch-mage Jennings most likely back in his tower, probably plotting the next pain in her ass. Even Lord Walker¡¯s proxy, Vera Salvatore-Verena, should be busy plotting against what¡¯s left of the Blackwoods. At that thought, she leaned back in her chair, her smile widening into a grin. ¡®Wasn¡¯t that a delightful surprise. Who would have imagined that the famous ¡®clerk of the Blackwoods¡¯ was actually such a terror in the arena,¡¯ she thought to herself. As a talented player in the game, she knew how hard it was to dedicate yourself to a role over the long term. Victoria Blackwood must have been hiding her abilities for years, constantly feigning weakness while projecting a false front based on her skills in the conference room. No one doubted her abilities in the business world, but the arena? Her nuanced play in the game was a masterstroke. ¡®How wonderful that she and Vera are now on opposite sides of the table,¡¯ she thought to herself, an evil grin spreading across her face. With a satisfied sigh, she leaned forward to resume looking through the immigration summary for the past few days. The number of villages and towns that were being evacuated was growing as expected. Luckily, they had gotten a good jump on the situation, and the losses had been kept to a minimum. She glanced at a report concerning the village of Stratsben which had been over-run by a swarm of monsterized cows. Apparently, an essence event occurred in their fields, accompanied by a localized storm. By the time the villagers finished battening down the hatches, it was already too late. 500 over-sized cows were led by several bulls-tuned-minotaur and their wooden walls never stood a chance. Luckily a few villagers survived, and they had just checked in with Gate 4 intake. Stories like this weren¡¯t unexpected, but it was still concerning. Hopefully the army¡¯s efforts in clearing out the essence disturbances around the city will slow down the shifts turbulence in the surrounding areas. They couldn¡¯t do anything about what was happening along the outskirts of their area of control, but they needed the area around the city to remain safe enough for travel for as long as possible. Dorchester needed those villages and towns emptied, and their citizens protected. It might take years for the essence to calm down, and anyone left out there wouldn¡¯t survive the experience. Not to mention, Dorchester was going to eventually be hit by the beast waves, and the added bodies on the wall were necessary for its survival. Closing the report she was reading, she moved on to the status updates coming out of the mountain gate, Gate 22. She needed that mountain city open and ready for the refugees as soon as possible. Already they¡¯d had close to 50,000 people make their way inside her walls, and she expected that number to double in the next few days. After all was said and done, the population of Dorchester might triple by the time the evacuations finished. Scanning the reports, she sipped her coffee and estimated their food reserves and resource allocations. Right in front of her eyes, a new report shot to the front of her inbox. Her link tinted crimson, and the lights in her room changed to a pulsing red glow. Her normally comfortable and elegant office lost all of its charm, and she shot to her feet in surprise. Her eyes flew across the incoming report, absorbing all the critical information in moments. The door to her office flew open, and her stern faced aide, Jessica Chandler, met her eyes with a determined stare. ¡°Orders? My lord,¡± she asked, no fear in her voice. Taking a moment to close her eyes and breathe deeply and clear her mind, seconds passed in silence. When she was ready, Lord Cosgrave hardened her resolve and opened her eyes. With ice in her voice, she commanded, ¡°Summon the council, and send out the general alarm. Tell Guard Dalton to coordinate with the army, and tell Lord Brinks to initiate wartime protocols. I want someone from the Tower of Distributions on site as soon as possible¡­¡± As Lord Cosgrave barked out orders, she strode through her office doors heading for the hall of leadership. Ms. Chandler followed along behind her, dutifully disseminating her words to various functionaries that maintained Dorchester¡¯s operations. Everyone in the halls moved with purpose, no fear in their hearts. In the face of this new threat, the citizenry of Oglivarch would not be found wanting. ----- Nero focused all his attention on carefully probing the tangled ball of essence floating in front of him. Compared to the one he¡¯d seen before, there were several differences that stood out. For one, this one was much smaller than the one his team had dealt with a few hours ago. Also, even though the essence strings looked similar, something about them looked entirely different. It was like the difference between a ball of yarn and a ball of rubber-bands, or maybe wire. But that all seemed inconsequential when compared to the fact that this one was rotating¡­ actually spinning in place like it was a giant, slow, music box sans musical accompaniment. Using his psychic field, he ran his consciousness over the strings, being very careful not to accidentally kill himself again. The stress of maintaining such a firm hold over his mental projection was so strong it made his forehead sweat, and his heart-rate increase. Not to mention that it was very difficult to keep focused when the two idiots on his right wouldn¡¯t stop arguing. ¡°No, You¡¯re not listening to me! I¡¯m not saying we can¡¯t diffuse the essence signature as if it WERE a spawn-point. The point is that I don¡¯t think this even IS as a spawn-point. I doubt it even meets the energy threshold. So, calling it one is both inaccurate and evidence of your ineptitude,¡± Nick said, while rubbing his chin in thought, his voice falling back into his old lecturing tone, complete with the patronizing not-so-sub-text. If you encounter this story on Amazon, note that it''s taken without permission from the author. Report it. Peter scoffed hard, not agreeing with Nick at all. As the hunter team¡¯s mage, he was usually the one who was in charge of dealing with the essence events. He wasn¡¯t shy about claiming to be the most knowledgeable hunter-mage in Dorchester. His nasally voice reminded Nero of the AV nerds he used to get his anime from back in high school. ¡°I¡¯ve seen hundreds of these things, and I¡¯m telling you that this is a spawn-point. The only reason the energy threshold might be under 300u¡¯s is that it is still in the growth stage. If we were to stand here for a few days, we¡¯d see it coalesce right in front of us,¡± replied Peter, his anger at being called incompetent readily apparent. Fed up, Nero pulled back his mental probe. He sighed deeply, while pinching his nose to help alleviate his growing headache. Nick didn¡¯t back down from the argument. ¡°This could turn out to be anything! If it manifests a spawn-point, then we can deal with it. But what if it forms a proto-dungeon? It¡¯s better to report it and see what the Hunter¡¯s Hall has to say about it. It could turn out to be an asset, one we desperately need. If this area doesn¡¯t get a few dungeons running soon, the essence flows are going to take forever to stabilize.¡± Peter responded quickly, nearly shouting his reply, ¡°It could also be a planar rift! Or a condensation point! If you¡¯re going to entertain all the possibilities, it might even be an ethereal rupture! But I¡¯m telling you¡­ It¡¯s just an immature spawn-point. Stop overthinking it, this isn¡¯t a class-room. No one is grading your response for thoroughness.¡± Looking over his shoulder, Nero could see Sergeant Wesker calmly standing next to a bored Breanne, neither of them appeared remotely interested in the what the two nerds were saying. In fact, it didn¡¯t look like anyone other than the two mages had a strong opinion on the matter. Everyone seemed perfectly content to let the two scholars debate each other to death. Nero couldn¡¯t take it anymore, and decided to move things along. ¡°OK, enough! Nick, you think we should leave the thing because it might become useful¡­ somehow. Peter, you think it¡¯s not worth leaving it to chance. You¡¯ve both agreed that without an essence con¡­stabulator or whatever, you can¡¯t predict what it will be, or even what it is! All you two are doing is throwing out hypotheticals that support your positions. So, there is no point in arguing about it. How about I just tell you what I see, then you¡¯ll have more information, and maybe we can get on with our day?¡± Peter looked down at Nero, both metaphorically and literally, replying, ¡°You don¡¯t happen to have an essence contra-inductor on you, do you? Then what in the hells do you think you can tell me about what we¡¯re dealing with. Can you even SEE the hells be damned thing?¡± Nero didn¡¯t get a chance to reply, because Nick took a step forward and said, ¡°Ignore him, Nero. Just tell me what you¡¯ve found out.¡± After throwing a glare at Peter, he turned away from the annoying mage, and replied to Nick in an even tone, ¡°It¡¯s a smaller ball of tangled essence. The strings are much thinner, and there isn¡¯t anything affecting the ambient essence. I¡¯m pretty sure it¡¯s not connected to another plane, or if it is, it¡¯s not transmitting anything from the other side. Also, I don¡¯t know why, but the whole thing is spinning around like a really slow top. I have no idea what that means, but I can tell you that it¡¯s making the essence around here slowly collect. Even while you two have been arguing, I¡¯ve seen it getting denser. Also, the thing isn¡¯t getting bigger, it¡¯s shrinking.¡± Peter¡¯s incredulous face was every bit as satisfying as Nero hoped it would be. Meanwhile Nick took Nero¡¯s words at face value. Nero watched as Nick frowned in thought, furiously rubbing his chin. Obviously something that he¡¯d said was causing the man to worry. Peter¡¯s voice was full of scorn. ¡°You¡¯re not actually listening to this, are you?¡± Nick¡¯s arms fell to his sides, his face turning serious. ¡°Yes, I am. And if he is right, then this isn¡¯t spawn-point, or a proto-dungeon. Do you know what happens when you try and diffuse a condensation point when it¡¯s still in its earliest phase?¡± Peter snorted at the implication that he didn¡¯t know what could happen. His reply was full of venom, ¡°You said this ¡®mark¡¯ was assigned to you, don¡¯t you think they would have taken into account the first sighting time-line? There¡¯s no way a condensation point takes longer than two days to appear.¡± Out of the corner of his eye, Nero saw Sergeant Wesker stand up straight, then take a few steps closer to them. His voice was full of worry, ¡°Excuse me, I don¡¯t mean to interrupt, I know it¡¯s protocol to let the mages handle essence events. But you should know that the two marks I chose for this expedition were just the closest ones listed near the encampment. They were fresh sightings, so I figured we¡¯d knock them out on the way to the base-camp. My orders were to pick two marks on the way to our destination, and make sure to get there before nightfall.¡± Peter¡¯s eyes widened in alarm, and he stuttered for a few seconds before managing to get out, ¡°You¡¯re telling me that this event might not have had time to stabilize? Are you insane?!?¡± Nick started chuckling, then walked over to pat Nero on the shoulder. Leaning down, he whispered, ¡°Good job, Nero.¡± Nero watched as Peter stomped over to Wesker and started shaking his finger in the man¡¯s face. Breanne got in the middle, trying to break up the argument. Voices were raised, and accusations were hurled. All too quickly, it had turned into an argument worthy of a slot on a daytime talk-show. Cathleen stepped up, questioning the intelligence of the mage for making assumptions. The hunter team was split between berating Peter and defending him. It really turned into a free-for-all. Luckily, it didn¡¯t rise to the levels of a Jerry Springer episode, but there was still a lot of yelling and finger pointing. Nero looked up at Nick and said, ¡°So Wesker pulled this target from the wrong list, so what? How bad could it be?¡± Nick grinned and replied, ¡°If this IS a condensation point, and we¡¯d treated it like a spawn-point, then when we tried to diffuse it, it would have exploded.¡± Nero glanced around Nick to stare at the floating ball of essence, then looked back at Nick with a frown. ¡°When you say ¡®exploded¡¯, do you mean like a bomb? Because I¡¯m pretty sure that essence over there doesn¡¯t have any material properties at the moment. Would we even feel it?¡± Nick shook his head, and said, ¡°It would disperse all the essence it had collected into the local ether. We¡¯d have a localized essence storm dropped on top of us. Basically random lightning strikes, harsh winds, spontaneous beast materializations, probably a few trees gaining limited sentience and trying to kill us. The surrounding area would turn into an angry forest almost immediately. It probably wouldn¡¯t be that bad, after all it¡¯s only been active for a day or two, but it¡¯s stupid to risk it. We just need to bleed off the essence and release it back into the ether in a controlled manner.¡± Nero nodded dumbly. ¡®No matter how much I learn about this world, it¡¯s still one thing after another that makes no damn sense. Why can¡¯t things just be simple. Reality, in any form, always manages to piss me off,¡¯ he thought to himself. While the sergeant and the hunter team¡¯s mage debated who was at fault for almost unleashing a localized apocalypse, Nick led Nero closer to the essence event and said, ¡°Now watch closely. This is how you funnel essence away from an essence knot. This will work for any non-solidified planar event. But, don¡¯t do this on a fully manifested spawn-point, or you¡¯ll end up summoning a mob right on top of you.¡± Nero nodded along, dutifully paying attention to what Nick was doing in the ethereal plane. ¡®I need to get my ass to the base-camp. I could really use a few hours to read my mission packet and maybe re-read some of those books Jennings gave me. I¡¯m starting to think I might have missed a few things,¡¯ he thought to himself. Chapter 138 - So... no dinner then? Kendra and David clung to each other while their group was led through the massive Mountain Gate corridor, stunned at how much had changed since they¡¯d last been top-side. Just two days ago when they had entered the gate, none of this was here. Now, there were soldiers all over the place, blanketing the entire area like a sea of ants. The essence in the air humming with purpose. The mountain gate was the primary entrance to the underground city-complex, and for their entire lives it has been closed. Now, the 100ft tall doors were thrown open, and the wide entryway was filled with staggered walls of stone, bunkers, shield generators, artillery turrets, and military grade essence collectors. Kendra stumbled as she held on to David¡¯s arm, doing her best to avoid being separated. His knuckles were white as he held her hand. The group of civilians they were with hurried through the checkpoints, ushered quickly as possible away from what would soon be the front-lines of the coming conflict. Her head whipped around as she felt the essence in the air coalesce into a massive shield stretching all the way to the ceiling. The sound of the generator starting up made her teeth shake. All around her, she saw light blue shields sprouting from the tops of the walls, each checkpoint acting as a bulwark against invasion. Hundreds of armored soldiers, each with their blue tabards blending together into a sea of steel and color made her head swim. Staff wielding mages with hard eyes were spread out through the groups hovering around the bunkers, along with support staff dressed in military canvas uniforms. She had never seen anything like it. It took them 20 minutes to get through the defensive lines and finally see the sun again. What they saw when they got there was just as startling as the corridor behind them. The large square which usually housed stalls and merchants had been cleared out. Now military tents took their place, and they could see more bunkers being constructed by the military engineering corps. Metal essence carriages delivered liquid stone and enchanted frames for defensive positions. As they were herded toward the back of the square, they watched the preparations progress smoothly, thousands of men and women of Dorchester focused on the singular task of preparing to repel the invaders. Leaning close to David, she whispered, ¡°Is this all really necessary? They¡¯re just kobalds, right?¡± David¡¯s face was having trouble maintaining its typical blank expression. He responded quietly, ¡°It¡¯s true that kobalds aren¡¯t usually that much of a threat, but that¡¯s only when they are in isolated tribes. The military wouldn¡¯t be mobilizing like this if there weren¡¯t more going on than that. This is bad Kendra, very bad.¡± Looking at the front of their column, they saw the group they were part of being led toward one of the large tents in the rear. It had large flags hanging down around the side indicating a temporary command center. David patted Kendra¡¯s hand and said, ¡°Don¡¯t worry, I¡¯m sure they¡¯ll handle it. Let¡¯s just get our data turned over and head back to the Center to find out what we should be doing.¡± Kendra nodded absently, perfectly fine with letting the situation develop on its own. Her place was in the lab, and the military world springing up all around them made her feel incredibly out of place. ----- Nero enjoyed the remainder of their trip to the encampment. Now that both their targets had been taken care of, the focus was entirely on getting to their destination and rejoining the elites. The hunters were basically acting as escorts, while Cathleen and Sergeant Wesker led them all through the forest. Nero and Nick were once again relegated to the middle of the formation, and had nothing to do other than listen to everyone debate the best practices of surviving in the wilds. No one, including the mage, was interested in talking with Nero-the-know-it-all. And to Nero¡¯s delight, even Brian, the cleric, was no longer bothering him with an ¡®introduction to religion¡¯. With so many more people, the trip was incredibly dull, and Nero was loving it. With one ear, he listened to them all chatting about how different the wilds have gotten, and what the future looked like for their profession. Sergeant Wesker spoke about the army¡¯s role in eliminating essence events before they grew into threats, and how the next few years will be primarily about cultivating the wilds into a self sustaining ecosystem. Nick lectured about how making sure the essence flows were allowed to grow and spread without knotting-up would lead to a smoother density shift. Meanwhile, the hunters were all more interested in how the situation would affect their profession and essence crystal prices in the area. It was all very interesting, but not nearly enough to distract Nero from his internal investigations into his essence shield, his soul, and his observations of their surroundings. While he practiced collapsing his essence field, and quickly imbuing it with an essence shield, he let his mind wander around the forest. The ambient essence was denser than what he saw in the city, and the closer they got to the camp, he noticed the constant ¡®turbulence¡¯ in the ether was slowly calming down. ¡®This must be why they say it¡¯s difficult to scry into the wilds. It didn¡¯t seem so difficult to me, but apparently I¡¯m not exactly normal. I wonder if it affects teleportation too? It¡¯s like civilization calms down the essence flows¡­ why, though?¡¯ he thought to himself. Nero was beginning to come to terms with the fact that he might not be able to rely on other people¡¯s experiences to figure out what he can do. It was clear he could sense things in the ether that even Nick couldn¡¯t, and possibly even Jennings. If they weren¡¯t able to explain what he was seeing, then how was he supposed to learn from them? While Nero was practicing his magic, observing the ether, and avoiding conversations, their party made great time through the wilds. The battles became more infrequent the closer they got to the encampment, as the surrounding area had already been cleared out by the elites. Rather than being on a nightmare infested hiking trip, Nero felt like he was part of the boy-scouts being escorted through the forest by experienced rangers. Though, eventually, his good times came to an end as they broke through the edge of the forest into a massive clearing. All of the trees and brush were gone, and the forest floor looked like the aftermath of a logging company¡¯s genocide against nature. In the center of clearing, several hundred feet away, there was a tall wooden palisade, complete with a gate and watchtowers. Seeing the elite¡¯s encampment, Sergeant Wesker turned to Breanne and said, ¡°You¡¯ll have to wait outside until I can speak with the captain. Don¡¯t worry, I¡¯ll make sure to get your questions answered. I¡¯ll also throw in a record of your aid in getting us here in your team¡¯s file with the Hunter¡¯s Hall.¡± Nero didn¡¯t think they did all that much, but he kept his mouth shut. However, in his mind he couldn¡¯t help but gripe, ¡®They took half of the essence crystals¡­ it¡¯s not like they weren¡¯t paid. The only reason they are here is because their healer thinks I¡¯m some sort of chosen one or something.¡¯ He really didn¡¯t know how to feel about the goddess Serine, and the religions here in general. They weren¡¯t what he was expecting. Even the transmigrator clich¨¦ of him being a chosen one didn¡¯t really fit how they were treating him. It just didn¡¯t feel all that ¡®ordained¡¯ or whatever. It was more like he had gotten a recommendation letter from their boss, and the faithful were happy to have him around. Where was the religious zealotry and insanity that he had been expecting? All in all, he felt like he''d been cheated. Reading on this site? This novel is published elsewhere. Support the author by seeking out the original. While Nero was lamenting the fact that he wasn¡¯t being hoisted up as the savior of Dorchester, the entire group made their way to the encampment. Clearly, they were noticed by the watchtowers, because they could see a large group of people gathering in front of the gate. The moment they were within earshot, Captain Angelton¡¯s booming voice rang out, ¡°All teams, I want confirmations from your team leaders that you¡¯re ready to go. We¡¯ll be locking this place down in 10 minutes.¡± Nero heard Nick mutter, ¡°They¡¯re doing a ward lock? Why?¡± Not even remotely interested in what he was hearing, Nero¡¯s mind was busy imagining what his room might look like, and whether or not he¡¯d finally get to have a private shower. Hopefully, the encampment had a few amenities to make their stay out here in the devil¡¯s armpit of Dorchester a little more bearable. Breaking off from the gathering in front of the gate, Sergeant Blackwood jogged up to their group. His face was uncharacteristically serious, and Nero thought it looked weird on the man. The few times Nero had spoken with him, he looked cheery and kind of reminded Nero of a frat-brother only here for his community service hours. Nero had planned on pulling the man aside and talking to him about the warning he left in the mission packet. It was a really stand-up move, and Nero felt obligated to thank him for it. Even though he never saw it, and it didn¡¯t help him in the least, it was still a really cool thing to do. But now, it seemed like that was the last thing on the sergeant¡¯s mind. Arriving in front of the party, Blackwood addressed Wesker, ¡°Sergeant, who are your guests?¡± Gesturing with his hand to the woman standing next to him, Wesker replied, ¡°This is Breanne¡­ I don¡¯t remember her last name. But, she and her team ran into us while we were taking care of our assignments. They aided in the removal of one essence event and escorted us here without prompting. If we are accepting hunter teams into the encampment, I¡¯d like to sponsor them for housing.¡± Blackwood raised an eyebrow in surprise at Wesker¡¯s words, but quickly replied, ¡°That¡¯s not going to be possible. We¡¯re abandoning the camp for now. Luckily we haven¡¯t been here long, so there isn¡¯t much we¡¯re leaving behind. All units have been called back to Dorchester, we¡¯re going to let the hunters handle things for the time being.¡± Breanne, shocked, interjected, ¡°There aren¡¯t nearly enough hunter teams to handle all the new events popping up in the wilds. Is it just the forest? Or is the army pulling back from the other areas as well?¡± Blackwood¡¯s voice was hard as iron, ¡°You and the other hunter teams will just have to make do for the time being. Kobalds have taken over the mountain city, and we need to clear them out to make room for the refugees that are coming in from the outlying villages and towns.¡± One of the hunter team members that Nero didn¡¯t know guffawed loudly and asked, ¡°Kobalds? Seriously?¡± While everyone started whispering and muttering amongst themselves, Brian¡¯s voice cut through the chatter and asked, ¡°When you say they took over the mountain city, are you saying that they¡¯ve reached civilization levels? How large a force do they have?¡± Looks of understanding and wariness started popping up all around Nero, and he couldn¡¯t help but wonder what the hell was going on. ¡®Aren¡¯t kobalds the little dog or rat things that like to make traps?¡¯ he thought to himself, recalling his gaming knowledge of the low level cannon fodder that was meant to be swept away by AOE. Sergeant Blackwood shook his head slowly. ¡°I haven¡¯t been told the specifics. But I can confirm that the entirety of the Dorchester army is being called back behind the walls. As we speak, they¡¯re sealing off all entrances to the mountain, and fortifying the Mountain Gate. An offensive will be launched immediately, and we need all units ready and able to clear out those halls as soon as possible. The engagements started when we tried to re-open the mountain city and accidentally discovered them building up their forces. It seems they¡¯ve been there for centuries, right under our noses,¡± he said, his voice full of hatred and offense. Nick¡¯s voice was full of shock and confusion, ¡°How did the mages at the Tower of Magic not notice them? Weren¡¯t there protocols and monitoring systems set up to protect the city in the event we needed to open it up again?¡± Blackwood shrugged, and replied, ¡°No idea. All I know -¡± The conversation was interrupted by a massive wave disrupting the ethereal plane in the area. Nero¡¯s jaw dropped open in shock at the amount of essence that was being funneled and controlled. ¡®What the fuck is that?¡¯ he wondered in terror. It was inconceivable that a spell could use that much essence for anything. Blackwood looked over his shoulder, completely at ease. ¡°It looks like they got the ward up.¡± Turning back to the group, he looked to Breanne and said, ¡°I¡¯m sorry we can¡¯t accommodate you with a base camp to work out of, but hopefully we¡¯ll be returning here and rejoining the fight. For now, just try and stay safe, do what you can, and we¡¯ll make sure you have walls to return to.¡± Breanne didn¡¯t seem worried, and asked, ¡°If the army is bringing in the tens of thousands of soldiers its already deployed to the wilds, then have they called for civilian levies? Is there a draft?¡± ¡°Not at this time, No. But who knows what will happen in the coming weeks. Keep an ear out, and like I said, do what you can out here. The more you do now, the less we have to deal with when we return to the wilds after our victory,¡± Blackwood said, his voice full of confidence. Turning his attention to Sergeant Wesker, Blackwood said, ¡°Let¡¯s get moving. We¡¯re heading back to Dorchester together and making best speed to the walls.¡± Nero kept his mouth shut, not knowing how to contribute to the conversation. He just followed along as the groups separated. He exchanged a nod with Brian, who stared at him with a ¡®knowing¡¯ look, as if this were all part of some grand plan. It made the hairs on the back of his neck stand up, and his mouth go dry. ¡®Yup, there is the blind faith that terrifies me to my core and makes my balls shrivel up in panic,¡¯ he said to himself as he nearly ran to keep up with his teammates heading off to join the rest of the elites preparing to head out. In no time at all, he was surrounded by the familiar faces he had trained with. But gone were the confident, happy grins he had come to know. Now there was a sense of determination mixed with anticipation. These men and women were ready to face what was coming, knowing full well what was waiting for them. Nero, on the other hand, was having trouble processing all that he¡¯d heard. Apparently there was a hidden mountain city that had been taken over by kobalds. It was right next to Dorchester, and for some reason, the army had decided to kill all of them and take over their city? Was he understanding this correctly? As the massive group of elites started off back to Dorchester at a run, Nero was in the middle of the pack with Nick. Reaching out, he opened up a connection to his friend, hoping for some answers. Accepting the connection, Nick asked, ¡°What is it Nero? I¡¯m a little preoccupied with my thoughts at the moment.¡± Nero glared at Nick¡¯s backpack, currently bouncing in front of him as they ran through the woods. ¡°My thoughts aren¡¯t exactly a calm lake of serenity either at the moment. Can you explain to me what exactly is happening? Are we really going to go massacre an entire people and take their land?¡± Nick stumbled, surprised at Nero¡¯s question. ¡°Nero, first of all, it¡¯s our land. Well, it¡¯s no one¡¯s land, but it¡¯s our city. We built it, we conquered that mountain and cleared it of all outside influence. Secondly, they are kobalds, what do you expect us to do? We need that city cleared to make room for the incoming refugees fleeing the density shift,¡± he said. Nero wasn¡¯t sure if he was supposed to be defending the kobald¡¯s rights. It was almost like an echo of all the past atrocities perpetrated by his ancestors back on earth was crying out for him to stand up and shout ¡®it¡¯s wrong!¡¯ or something. Yet, he could feel Nick¡¯s absolute certainty that this was what had to happen through his essence field. It was unnerving. Nick sensed Nero¡¯s emotions bouncing all over the place and asked, ¡°Just tell me what¡¯s bothering you. I can¡¯t answer a question you don¡¯t ask.¡± Deciding to just get into it, Nero asked, ¡°Is there no way to just ¡®not fight¡¯? They¡¯re a civilization right? Give peace a chance and all that. They are sentients, aren¡¯t they? They¡¯re not monsters?¡± Nero could feel the moment Nick understood what he was getting at. The old man¡¯s essence field nearly blossomed with understanding. Nick replied, ¡°I think you¡¯re assuming some things that aren¡¯t entirely accurate. Yes, they are sentients. No, they aren¡¯t monsters. Kobalds are a species that has a long history with humans, and an even longer history with this plane of existence. We don¡¯t know if they are from this plane, or if they migrated here like humans did, but -¡± ¡°Wait! Human¡¯s aren¡¯t from here? Where are we from?¡± Nero asked excitedly. Sighing, Nick replied, ¡°Not now Nero, one thing at a time. Different races see the world through entirely different perspectives. We are food for kobalds. They are capable of creating civilizations, but they are not anything like ours. They are focused on the accumulation of land, and the control of the local essence flows. When strong enough, they are comparable to humans in physical might and power, but they really excel in planar magic. They have a calling in their blood to reach out to the elemental planes and convert the world around them in its image. Depending on the clan, it could be any number of planes that they want to bridge our world with. As humans, we are at odds by our very nature. There can be no peace. We kill them, and they kill us. The world around us is decided by the victor.¡± Nero nodded, it wasn¡¯t like a racial thing then. It was two opposing ideals fighting for control of an area. ¡®Just like a real life MOBA game. I guess that¡¯s a lot easier than having to deal with some kind of racial discrimination sub-plot that I¡¯d have to overcome. No ¡®coming together despite our differences¡¯. Thank God. I would have sucked at that,¡¯ he thought to himself. Chapter 139 - Showing Nero how its done. Breanne stood at the tree-line, watching the ¡®elite¡¯ hunters head back to Dorchester as a group. The very idea of calling them elites after only having been in training for a week was laughable. Yet, elites weren¡¯t elites because of their skills, they were elites because their duty was their entire life. They did nothing but train and fight, and their growth rates were as massive as their casualty rates. It would be good for Dorchester to have them once again defending their walls. Pushing those thoughts aside, she closed her eyes and focused on her mission. Leaning against the trunk of a tree with her arms crossed, she reviewed what she¡¯d learned about the young Lord Walker and his companions. Lord Salvator-Verena was exactly who she expected him to be, a typical scholar more suited Center-Research than for politics, let alone the wilds. In Breanne¡¯s opinion, the Averett woman was the young lord¡¯s only real supporter, and definitely not one to be underestimated. It was clear that northern warrior preferred the role of a silent guardian, constantly watching from a distance. Even when Cathleen wasn¡¯t looking, Breanne could still feel the woman¡¯s eyes on her. Sergeant Wesker seemed much colder than she thought he¡¯d be. Apparently, the rumors of Lord Walker¡¯s close relationship with the military were just that¡­ rumors. Based on what she¡¯d seen, the military was only keeping Lord Walker close because they didn¡¯t know what to do with him. If they truly valued the young lord, they wouldn¡¯t assign someone like Wesker as his primary contact. Which led to Rose Vikander, who was a delightful surprise. There was very little known about how she came to be part of Lord Walker¡¯s team, but evidence of the general¡¯s personal involvement did exist. Considering how closely the young woman was watching Lord Walker, her role as a spy for the military was basically confirmed. What was surprising was how good Rose seemed to be. She was a natural, and easily dismissed due to her level. She felt her second in command, Nela, approach her from behind. Not turning around, she heard Nela¡¯s soft voice ask, ¡°Mission¡¯s accomplished, should we finish our cover assignments, or make an excuse to the rest of the party and head back to Dorchester? We can use the kobald situation as a cover, everyone will be eager to check in with their families.¡± Breanne was nothing if not pragmatic. Only she and Nela knew about their primary mission, and there was no reason to cast doubt on their motives by altering the plan. It would be too out of character for her to alter their plans. After all, they weren¡¯t in a hurry. Shrugging herself off the tree, she looked up at the canopy to judge how much of the day¡¯s light remained. Turning around, she saw the rest of her team standing around, idly discussing what the kobald invasion meant for Dorchester, and for them. Keeping her voice low, she replied, ¡°We¡¯ll continue with the assignments we took. After seeing how Brian fawned over the young lord, let¡¯s not give anyone a reason to doubt that our encounter was anything but chance. Let¡¯s camp here, we¡¯ve only got around an hour left before nightfall. I¡¯ll be along shortly.¡± Offering a small nod to Breanne, Nela headed off to rest of the party. Almost immediately, they broke up to go about their various duties. They¡¯d all been together for years, and Breanne had made sure they all knew what they were doing. Turning away from the team, she walked off into the wilds to get some distance. When she felt that the area was clear, she reached into a side pouch on her rucksack and pulled out a communication orb. She imbued some essence into it, sending out a connection request. A few seconds later, she felt a response. A calm, but firm voice came through. ¡°Hub 3. Report.¡± Familiar with the protocols, Breanne replied, ¡°Hunter 106 reporting primary mission success.¡± A few seconds of silence passed, and Breanne waited for whoever was monitoring Hub 3 to look up the relevant mission information. She tapped her fingers on her sword hilt, trying to remain patient, but secretly hoping they would hurry up. The voice on the other end of the communication orb suddenly replied, ¡°Very good Hunter 106! You¡¯re the first to complete the request. In fact, we weren¡¯t expecting anyone to attempt it at all due to recent events. When will you present your findings?¡± Breanne did some mental math in her head, estimating how long it would take for her team to finish with the Hunter¡¯s Hall assignments they¡¯d accepted. Giving herself some breathing room, she replied, ¡°Tell Vic¡­ I mean Lord Blackwood, that I¡¯ll be back in Dorchester in 4 days, 5 at the latest.¡± Although it was weird to no longer be able to call her friend by her name, it was good to see she was finally getting what she deserved. After all, years of planning had paid off exactly as she¡¯d hoped they would. ----- Once again, Nero¡¯s understanding of the wilds was challenged. He¡¯d seen what it was like to travel with a small, unpracticed group. Then he¡¯d seen what a larger group of skilled hunters could do. And now he was seeing what it looked like when a small army was bulldozing through the forest. He did his best to take it all in. Trying to estimate their numbers, he saw that there were probably over 100 people heading back to Dorchester from the encampment. ¡®The extra people must have come later. Maybe support staff, or other teams using their base to rest?¡¯ he wondered. Deciding that it wasn¡¯t important, Nero focused on how they fought. The amount of noise the large group made caused them to be constantly assaulted by monsters from all sides. Apparently, they didn¡¯t need scouts due to their sensing abilities, so everyone stayed in one giant formation. If there was one word to describe what he was seeing, it was ¡®humbling¡¯. Nick had told him that the elites had been pulled from monster-hunting teams from all over Dorchester, their levels ranging from probably 20 all the way up to 40. The idea being that elites were meant to dedicate their entire life to the cause, and in return they¡¯d get the full support of the city. They weren¡¯t meant to be the best NOW, but that WAS their entire purpose. It was hard to estimate ages, but Nero could tell by how they fought who was a veteran and who was still learning. Through his senses, he watched a wiry man bounce through the tree branches, launching arrows of fire into monsters while he flew through the air. It was stunning, and incredibly intimidating. All around him, he saw breathtaking displays of destruction. There was a woman wielding a two handed sword that was taller than he was, and it was glowing orange! On the other side there was a lanky man summoning rolling balls of thorn-whips that latched on to monsters and ripped them apart like a chainsaw cutting through a tree-trunk. With his senses seeing the essence all around him, he saw abilities going off like flash-bangs all over the place. The entire army kept moving at a jog, the combat not slowing them down in the slightest. He could see the edges of the formation rotating to bring in fresh warriors, while the back of the formation refilled with those who¡¯d stayed back to collect the essence crystals. It was like a massive dance, which he was only allowed to appreciate due to his essence field giving him a view of the entire formation. They weren¡¯t sprinting, but the jog was a little faster than he was comfortable with. He had to constantly watch his step in order to make sure he didn¡¯t roll an ankle. Considering he was a foot shorter than everyone around him, it almost made him claustrophobic. For the first time in a long time, Nero felt completely ignored. He had grown so used to being the center of attention that it was a little surprising how uncomfortable it felt to be relegated to a non-combatant. Even worse, he was surrounded by the weaker fighters, and support staff that he recognized from the training camp. It seemed he wasn¡¯t powerful enough to be given any real responsibility, which both humiliated him, and made him sigh in relief. After all, it WAS nice to not have to worry about people judging him, reading into everything he did or said. Everyone was focused on the upcoming war, and the conversations going on around him were filled with information that broadened his knowledge base. Even at a jog, soldiers gossiped. From what he heard, the entire city was preparing for the upcoming war. Gate 22, which apparently housed the ¡®mountain gate¡¯ was being evacuated. The civilians were voluntarily giving up their homes and businesses so that the military could be closer to the action. There was also an undercurrent of excitement concerning the rewards they could earn during the coming battles. Nero assumed it was something like the noble war where there was a grading system. Although, he still had no idea how that was tracked, or who was in charge of it. Populators, maybe? Stolen story; please report. ¡®Why don¡¯t they just have a few high level champions from the populators come by and wipe the mountain clean of kobalds?¡¯ he wondered. There had to be a reason, right? The subject being discussed to his left caused him to whip his head around in surprise. Nero focused on what they were saying, doing his best to tune out all the insanity going on around him. ¡®Did they just mention artillery?!?¡¯ A young man with oddly colored salt and pepper hair said, ¡°If that¡¯s true, then the engineering corps is going to be involved. It¡¯s too bad they¡¯ll be pulled off the walls. We¡¯ll be needing the cannons up and running when the beast waves finally hit.¡± The woman on his right replied, ¡°I saw the status update myself while I was in the communications tower. They listed requests for all essence crystals we collected to be turned over immediately. The numbers they were requisitioning could only mean they were activating the artillery teams, mechanized divisions, and shield generators. Hopefully all of that old equipment is still working. I doubt its seen any use since the last beast wave, maybe even the old Dorchen rebellion.¡± The man replied immediately, ¡°No doubt they¡¯ve already been seen to. It was probably one of the first things command looked into when they heard about the density shift.¡± She nodded, and replied, ¡°I hope you¡¯re right. But you should keep in mind that they thought they had plenty of time before the beast waves hit.¡± Nero listened closely, reading into whatever they said. ¡®This is going to be a war? Like, a real war? I thought this was supposed to be a fantasy world? Why in the hell are they talking about mechanized divisions?¡¯ he wondered. His thoughts racing, Nero tried to get a hold of himself. It was difficult, considering the people around him were comfortably chatting about the upcoming war. Meanwhile, the sounds of combat were coming from the edges of the formation. And the entire time everyone was jogging through the forest, almost at a run. The situation was absurdly surreal, and it was making him a little lightheaded. Retracting his senses helped a lot. The pressure bearing down on him from his surroundings eased up and he felt like he could breathe again. He looked over to see Nick chatting away with the soldier jogging next to him. The old man was grinning like a fool while pumping his arms as he ran. Nero smiled at the sight, the presence of his friend acting like an emotional anchor he didn¡¯t know he needed. A little more centered, he returned to his internal review of the situation. Despite the differences, this world had a lot in common with his old one. Very little was in his control, and a majority of his decisions would have to be in response to external factors. He hadn¡¯t planned on fighting a war. He joined the elites so that he could fulfill one of the noble trial requirements. Well, killing kobalds probably counted just as much as killing monsters. ¡®I¡¯m just going to have to accept that the world shifted gears and I¡¯m not going to be the main character for a while,¡¯ he thought to himself. As he jogged, he thought about what he might be doing, and what part he might play in the coming war. He¡¯d promised himself that he was going to actively take part in the world around him, but he couldn¡¯t see how he would be able to make much difference in a war that included tens of thousands of troops, possibly even a hundred thousand or more. It wasn¡¯t feeling like a fantasy world at the moment, it felt more like one of the historical war-movies that focused on some nobody that learned life was incredibly precious and earned someone an Oscar. He always hated those. Reality sucked, and there was no way to argue with a landmine. Kobalds liked traps, and the last he wanted was to end up dying courtesy of a magic IED. His hard work and can-do attitude won¡¯t do shit in front of an artillery shell. Not liking the way this thoughts were going, he decided to call an audible. Reaching out, he sent Nick a connection request. He saw the old man look over his shoulder and accept the request with a curious, yet annoyed, look on his face. ¡°What¡¯s wrong now?¡± Nick asked. Frowning at the old man¡¯s uninterested reply, Nero could tell the man was in the middle of a conversation that he seemed to be enjoying. Based on Nick¡¯s mental presence, Nero could sense that the old man was unhappy to have Nero bothering him with questions he felt would be answered if he were just willing to be patient and listen. Surprised at how much sub-text he was able to gleen through the connection, Nero said, ¡°Sorry to bother you, but I just wanted to know why the populators aren¡¯t being called in to deal with the kobalds.¡± Nick didn¡¯t bother to pause his conversation with the person next to him, but still answered Nero¡¯s question over the private connection. ¡°Populators are rarely sent out to support military efforts. Their purpose is to clear out new areas for expansion, and to maintain order. Standing armies and local forces are responsible for taking care of local problems. While Oglivarch as a whole is one kingdom, in many ways it is made up of individual cities and areas working independently. You don¡¯t have to worry, if it gets bad enough, I¡¯m sure external aid will be called in. But, let¡¯s hope it doesn¡¯t come to that,¡± he said. Nero asked quickly, ¡°Why not? Is there some kind of penalty or something?¡± Nick¡¯s mental projection felt a little indecisive, as if he weren¡¯t exactly sure how to answer. After a few seconds, he eventually replied, ¡°It¡¯s not exactly a penalty. Typically once cities are declared self sufficient, all outside influences are mitigated by law. However, if aid is requested, it opens Dorchester up to have nobles from other cities join without starting from the bottom. It¡¯s not exactly bad, but it does tend to cause some stability issues in the upper echelons of power. While not immediately a problem, in a hundred years we might look back and regret ever having called for aid.¡± Nero took a moment to digest that interesting nugget of information. He had always wondered why Vera came from a noble family, but wasn¡¯t a noble. It also explained why the Averetts sent out people to cities across Oglivarch to build up their presence by fighting and doing community service. They couldn¡¯t just come in and take over. Nick let Nero think it through for a bit before continuing. ¡°The current noble houses are almost all descended from when Dorchester was initially founded. However, the Cosgraves were NOT here, so what does that tell you? Getting back to my point, in many ways the cities of Oglivarch are on their own. The kingdom itself is really just an agreement to abide by common practices which are enforced by the royal family and the ruling council, overseen by the local Tower of Law. That isn¡¯t to say there aren¡¯t kingdom forces that might arrive before the beast waves come. Those soldiers are almost like mercenaries, paid for by the crown, that can temporarily bolster the defenses of a city without consequences. However, I doubt they¡¯ll arrive any time soon, so I wouldn¡¯t count on seeing them.¡± Nero nodded, the picture of how Oglivarch worked becoming a little clearer. Of course, there were plenty of things he still didn¡¯t understand. Like, if outside nobles couldn¡¯t come here, then how did that Cranston asshole have enough influence to almost have him killed. But, almost as if he were answering his own question, the solution came to him. It was a mage tower thing. They are probably like guilds in games that stretch across city borders. The members don¡¯t hold local power, but they still hold some influence. Suddenly, the metaphor in his head started taking shape. Oglivarch was like the federal government, the cities were like states, and the different towers were like outsourced governmental services overseen by private monopolies masquerading as clubs. That answered so many annoying questions he had. Even though he was positive that the comparison was probably incredibly flimsy, it really helped him wrap his head around the ridiculousness of how they seemed to govern themselves. ¡°You alright, Nero? Your emotions are all over the place,¡± Nick asked, looking over his shoulder to check on Nero. Nero replied, ¡°Yeah, I think I¡¯m just starting to put your government in terms I can kinda understand. Don¡¯t worry, I¡¯m not going to assume that I¡¯ve figured anything out, but I¡¯ll probably no longer get a headache when you say something so stupid that it makes me question how you all haven¡¯t killed yourselves yet.¡± Nick didn¡¯t know what to say to that, so he just replied, ¡°Um¡­ alright. If there¡¯s nothing else, I¡¯m going to focus on my conversation now. Did you know that Gate 12 has an animal sanctuary that is currently studying monsterization and targeted elemental evolution? This young lady¡¯s brother works for Gate 12¡¯s Center-Research center and has had success breeding fire breathing goats. How incredibly interesting, am I right?¡± Immediately after dropping that illogical bombshell, he closed the connection. Nero stumbled a little as he tried to process what he had just heard. ¡®The moment I begin to get a handle on this crap, something else pops up that reminds me that nothing here makes any damn sense,¡¯ he mentally complained. Putting the matter aside, he chose to focus his attention on something which he could actually control. So, while he and the army made their way through the monster infested wilds, he dedicated himself to training his essence shield and perfecting his mental control over his essence field. At this pace, in a day or two, he could possibly be on the front lines of a human army fighting against kobalds for control of an abandoned city. A city which was located under a freaking mountain, all the while praying to whatever upper-planes club president passed for a god around here that he wouldn¡¯t get blown up by magical artillery¡­ or eaten. Definitely didn¡¯t want to be eaten. At that thought, Nero felt himself fill up with happiness at how much he was enjoying the craziness he was constantly living through. With a grin on his face, he went back to what he did best, learning magic. Chapter 140 - Home again. Not one to waste time, General Branson started his briefing the moment his projection appeared in the Hall of Leadership. His face hovered above the center of the room, the projection displaying him on each side of a large square holographic box. Every person of influence in Dorchester was present, nobles and near-nobles alike. They all were silent as the man in charge of protecting their city began to speak. The general¡¯s voice was loud, and it echoed around the massive room, ¡°Before I get into the requisition authorizations we¡¯ll need, I¡¯ll begin with a brief update on our situation. I¡¯m sure you¡¯ve all been reading the reports, casualty projections, and strategy suggestions, but the past 30 hours have been hectic, and I¡¯d prefer if we confine this meeting to the facts and the army¡¯s immediate needs.¡± The leadership council all nodded, eager to hear the comprehensive status update they¡¯ve been waiting for. It was understandable that the general was unable to do so before now, but if they were to help, they needed to know what was going on. There was only so much they could learn from the general intelligence they¡¯d been receiving through the army¡¯s updates on the Thought-hub. Below the general¡¯s hovering projection, a 3d model of the massive mountain appeared. The detail was immaculate, and they all watched as the exterior became translucent. The outline of the interior fortifications and tunnels was clearly displayed. From the central pathway through the mountain gate, they saw the various levels going both down into the depths, and up through the mountain. Several tunnels with exits protruding to the surface were highlighted, most of those were green, while others were varying shades of red. The general¡¯s voice narrated what they were seeing, ¡°During our initial efforts to reopen the underground city, mountain teams 4, 5, and 9 came into conflict with what we initially thought were kobald scouting parties. After quickly eliminating them, our priority was intelligence gathering. After all, the entire complex was supposed to be locked down. We attempted scrying and essence scanning, but what the mages were seeing wasn¡¯t what was actually down there. So, we were forced to send teams down to visually inspect the tunnels. Unfortunately, what we found was a coordinated response that nearly wiped out our investigative forces.¡± While several sections started flashing, highlighting the areas where the early conflicts occured, several more projections appeared. Each one was showing a memory engram from some of the members of the mountain teams that were part of the initial battles. The general¡¯s grim voice continued on, ¡°After pulling back, we reinforced the mountain gate as a precaution against invasion. At this time, the kobalds have been repelled, and our line is holding. Enemy numbers are still unknown, but several scouts were able to get deep enough to give us some idea of what we¡¯re dealing with.¡± The projections changed to show that several of the large caverns which had once housed their ancestors now had been repurposed into kobald dens on a scale which boggled the mind. Massive stone pillars had been erected, each with numerous hollows filled with flickering torches. The structures stretched to the ceiling, indicating thousands upon thousands of kobalds. At their base, forests of misshapen trees which been adapted to live in underground environments covered what was once farmland. The overhead essence lights remained unpowered, leaving the images shrouded in shadow. ¡°We weren¡¯t able to get too deep, these images are only from sub level 5. Even more concerning, we were unable to retrieve any intelligence concerning what was happening on the higher floors. But all of this leads us to believe that the kobalds have taken over the mountain city. Until we know more, their civilization will be treated as a class 6 threat,¡± his tone was ominous, leaving no question as to the seriousness of the situation. Lord Cosgrave¡¯s voice interrupted him, ¡°How do we know they¡¯ve progressed to a class 6? Do you have reason to believe that they have access to planar gates or totemic magic?¡± Seemingly unbothered by the question, the general replied, ¡°We have no direct evidence, but if the population numbers are anywhere near what we think they are, then it¡¯s incredibly unlikely that they haven¡¯t made contact with their brethren in the elemental planes. Also, they¡¯re advanced enough to be interfering with our ranged intelligence gathering. Whether it¡¯s a mirror ward, illusionary great-magic, or something we¡¯ve never heard of, there is no way for us to see what¡¯s happening down there. So, for now, we¡¯re treating their existence as a city-killer.¡± Everyone in the chamber knew what that meant. If they were unable to stop them, Populators would come and wipe their city, the mountain, and most of the surrounding area, clear off the map. Hopefully, they¡¯d at least evacuate them all first. Oglivarch wouldn¡¯t stand for a threat of this magnitude to exist within its borders. After giving the room a minute to process the peril they were in, the general¡¯s tone snapped them all back to reality. ¡°We¡¯ve already dealt with almost all of the known egress points out of the mountain, and teams are currently eliminating anything they find on the surface. For now, they¡¯ve been contained. Our next step is to go in and dig them out. The area around the mountain gate has been repurposed for the army¡¯s use, and divisions are being assembled as we speak.¡± Looks of appreciation and relief were seen on everyone¡¯s faces. That was great news, and boded well for the chances of Dorchester making it through this crisis in one piece. Calm and collected, the general continued, ¡°What we need going forward is your support and resources. If you open the briefing packet you¡¯ve been sent, we¡¯ll begin with what we need from the Guard¡­¡± While the general outlined what the army needed, he made sure to highlight what was required for the city to function while their forces were embattled with the threat. For the time being, Dorchester would have to deal with the refugees and the density shift on its own. ----- Unsurprisingly, they made great time back to Dorchester. In fact, once they emerged from the wilds, their brisk jog transitioned into an uncomfortable run. He¡¯d been up forever, and despite not being in any of the fights, his little legs were still struggling to keep up with the soldiers. The occasional 15 minute breaks, and ration bars, had done very little to offset the pain of running for an entire night, and a good portion of the next day. Stolen from its rightful place, this narrative is not meant to be on Amazon; report any sightings. Nero panted, forcing himself to keep pace with the group. Although he couldn¡¯t see anything other than the elite warriors double-timing it all around him, his psychic field gave him a nice overview of what was happening. Captain Angelton was at the front of the formation, and he quickly led them to the nearest road. Once there, one of the sergeants cast some kind of spell that started blaring a sound which was eerily similar to a siren. The captain broke everyone into columns, and the elites made their way past shocked civilians currently heading toward Dorchester. Nero was surprised to see so many wagons and families filling the wide road. ¡®This must be the fantasy equivalent of a motorcade for emergency vehicles. Funny, I don¡¯t feel like a fire engine,¡¯ he thought to himself, trying to diffuse his mounting tension. As they sped along, he ran his senses over the civilians which were hurriedly getting out of their way. Aside from a few notable standouts, they all looked rather dingy, and kinda weak. It was like their essence fields were almost non-existent. He couldn¡¯t understand what he was seeing. People who were level 20 weren¡¯t uncommon, were they? Unfortunately, he was moving too fast to get a really good look at anyone, so his questions remained unanswered. Besides, he was more focused on making sure that he stayed upright, as the last thing he needed was to be trampled by the soldiers bringing up the rear. Suddenly, the image of one of the larger elites throwing him over their shoulder and carrying him like a sack of potatoes flashed across his mind, and he shivered at the potential shame. It wasn¡¯t impossible, they were pretty much all super-humans. ¡®Yeah, that¡¯s not gonna happen,¡¯ he thought, then refocused on running. Eventually they got close enough to Dorchester to connect to the local Thought-hub. Unable to stop himself, he reached out and activated his link. As usual, there were a ton of pings waiting for him to deal with. Most of them were from Vera, but there were some surprises in there too. He had received a few bank statements, a notice from the arena that they were temporarily suspending events, and even a few pings from Victoria Blackwood. ¡®What the hell does she want?¡¯ he wondered. Opening the message, he almost stumbled when he read the contents. According to the first ping, she wanted to create closer ties with House Walker, and she requested a dinner when he had the time. The next ping was from a few hours later, and she politely retracted the invitation while applauding him for his service with the elites. She went on to say that the invitation remained open, and whenever he had time, he should contact her directly, as she looked forward to working together for the betterment of Dorchester. ¡®What a load of shit,¡¯ he thought. Ignoring the blatant political double-speak, he just forwarded the pings to Vera. She would deal with them at some point. Realizing what he¡¯d just done, he winced. It was never a good idea to send a woman a message without first checking what they¡¯d already sent him. Immediately, he started going through the multiple pings in his backlog. Some of them were still there from before he had his dinner at the keep. It was like seeing a record of his time in Dorchester narrated by an angry soccer-mom. His thoughts bounced around as he read through the pings, ¡®There¡¯s the one where she warned me to behave in front of the nobles. Oh, she was really pissed about the whole assassination thing, huh. Wait, that¡¯s from the first time someone tried to kill me. Yup, there¡¯s the record of the bet she made on my behalf with the arena. Then, this one is about the training schedule¡­ blah, blah, blah. Huh, she took over the estate I own? Cool. I need to get over there at some point. Holy crap, I have a lot of employees. When the hell did I tell her to start a mercenary company?¡¯ Nero¡¯s mind was reeling as he went through them. There was so much information that he had been ignoring that he felt like an absentee father hearing about his kid¡¯s accomplishments from the nanny. House Walker was growing and thriving, all while he¡¯d been off in the wilds getting his ass kicked. Nero kept reading, finally going through all the paperwork and records Vera had been sending him. He noted a few pings from people he hadn¡¯t met yet, recognizing their names from Vera¡¯s pings. There was his household manager, Vance Lester, who was currently maintaining his estate. Some lady named Joanne Upton, who was the new director of Walker Security Contractors, or WSC. There really were too many pings from people he didn¡¯t know, all of whom were sending him updates concerning their work on his behalf. He was so enthralled by what he was reading, he didn¡¯t notice that the column was coming to a stop. His thoughts were brought out of his link when he face planted into the backpack of the soldier in front of him. Stuttering to a stop, Nero grabbed his bleeding nose. ¡®Son of a bitch!¡¯ he thought in annoyance. Panting hard, he looked up at the tired faces of the surrounding soldiers, wondering what was going on. They were all staring forward, calmly waiting for something to happen. Focusing on his essence field, he tried to see what was happening at the front of the formation. He realized what was going on almost immediately. The incredibly tall walls were almost blinding his mental senses. ¡®I can¡¯t believe I didn¡¯t notice they were enchanted. I need to start paying closer attention. How do main characters handle all this crap happening at the same time. Where the hell is my helper fairy, or my A.I. companion? My old life was defined by me constantly playing catch-up, and this one isn¡¯t turning out much better,¡¯ he lamented. Now that he was paying closer attention, he was able to see when they were given leave to enter the city. Barely having been given enough time to catch his breath, they were back to running again. ¡®Hopefully we¡¯ll be given some time to rest before we get sent into the mountain to fight the lizards¡­ dogs? What the hell do kobalds look like here. All I¡¯m getting from the word is a vague concept of an animal-like enemy that could either be short, tall, hairy, or smooth. Maybe my translation system is broken,¡¯ he bitched in his mind. Seeing the sun being replaced by the ceiling of the gate¡¯s tunnel, Nero felt like things were only going to get worse before he got any answers. Emerging from the tunnel, Nero saw how the upcoming war had affected the average citizen. Gone were the smiles and easy going attitudes. The courtyard was nearly empty, but there were still a few people going about their business. Yet, now there was an undercurrent of defiance hanging in the air. It was surprising, because he¡¯d figured there would be more fear and panic. But, it kind of made sense considering that they¡¯ve been living their entire lives behind enemy lines. Just past the walls there was death, eagerly waiting to claim them. On that cheery note, Nero focused on where they were heading. Their columns ran through the city, past the gate compound and straight toward a large warehouse. It was around two stories tall, and made of solid gray stone. To Nero, it looked like a storage facility for all the crap no one wanted in their houses, but they were too lazy to get rid of. It even had a gate surrounding the property, as if the owners wanted to advertise that there was something inside worth stealing. The wide wooden doors were thrown open, and soldiers stood by at the entrance with what looked like clipboards. Happy to finally be walking again, Nero put his hands on his hips and tilted his head back in relief while trying to catch his breathe. Not really caring where they were going, he followed the soldier in front of him without paying much attention. That was, until he noticed that they were all being herded toward a teleportation platform. In groups of ten, the surrounding soldiers dissipated into flashes of golden light. ¡®Please tell me we aren¡¯t going to the front lines right away? Shouldn¡¯t we get a meal, a bed, and maybe an introduction to a local girl enamored with the idea of sleeping with a soldier heading off to war? Where is the send-off for the heroes or whatever? Can¡¯t I at least take a nap?¡¯ he wondered, the confusion on his face clear for all to see. Unfortunately, no one was paying any attention to him at the moment. Therefore, the astra-platform technician didn¡¯t have any issues with sending the little lord and his surrounding elites hurtling through the ether despite Nero¡¯s grievances. Chapter 141 - A peak into the life. Captain Angelton stood by the front doors of the building they were assigned. With his arms crossed, he watched the elites filing in, then being separated based on their unit designations. While the support troops were being ushered toward the lobby for reassignment, the combat troops bunched up around their team leaders. Near the lobby counter in the main entryway, Blackwood and the other dispatch sergeants were working with one of logistics officers from Gate 22 command to keep everything organized. He could hear them loudly warning the recruits to treat their temporary accommodations with respect, and to be ready for muster by 26:00. Running his well trained eyes over the troops, he evaluated their combat readiness and potential. Each of the elites looked tired, but not overly so. Well, except for a few particularly weak recruits who were currently leaning against a wall waiting for Sergeant Wesker to pick an apartment for their team to take over. Glancing over at Vikander and Walker, he could see that they both were ready to pass out. While Walker was at least managing to remain upright, Vikander was barely keeping her eyes open. She had needed to be carried for most of the journey, and she was still looked pretty pale from the experience. Surprisingly, Verena had handled the long march better than he¡¯d expected him to. Perhaps the old scientist wasn¡¯t such a lost cause after all? Shaking off his thoughts concerning their weakest team, he mentally checked the time. Nodding to himself, he decided that his sergeants could handle getting everyone fed and bunked without him. After sending a quick ping to inform his staff of intentions, he headed off toward the mountain gate command center to report in. Hopefully, his teams¡¯ orders were waiting for him, he wasn¡¯t really in the mood for a meeting. After all, he¡¯d be able to kill a lot more kobalds after a few hours of sleep and a good meal. ----- Nero¡¯s mind was having trouble processing what was happening. It seemed they¡¯d taken over an apartment building or maybe a hotel. But the weirdest part about it was that the sergeants were treating it like an Airbnb or something. It was disturbing to see armed, chainmail clad warriors walking around what he would normally consider a pretty nice lobby. From the outside, the building had looked like a massive wooden cube with a slanted clay roof. There must have been 10 floors, each with windows complete with little planting boxes attached at the bottom. White shutters and the occasional rounded balcony gave the building a very Germanic or European vibe. Had the walls been made of stone, the building wouldn¡¯t have looked out of place in any number of romantic comedies set in Paris or some other fancy city. The interior had a large entryway, a nice marble floor, and pedestals proudly displaying arrangements of flowers that he didn¡¯t recognize. The ceiling had recessed essence lighting and what he¡¯d come to consider standard hand-made crown molding. The rich wood walls made the place look like a hotel lobby. There was even a front desk with a large mural depicting a beautiful meadow hanging on the wall behind it. Before he could really come to terms with what he was seeing, Sergeant Wesker waved the team over and they headed up a ridiculously large stairway to the third floor. After proceeding through an immaculately maintained hallway, which included a resplendently carpeted floor, the sergeant led them into a large apartment. The common room was huge, and filled with art and bookshelves, along with couches and small terrace. ¡®Did we get one of the better room assignments, or are they all like this?¡¯ he couldn¡¯t help but wonder. Nero¡¯s attention turned to the sergeant, who was giving them a brief update on their situation. ¡°We might only be here for a day at most. If you want, there will be food in the lobby, but I¡¯d recommend using this time to get some sleep. In 9 hours we will muster outside and receive our orders. While I don¡¯t know exactly what we¡¯ll be doing, I can make a guess. From what I¡¯ve read in the general updates section of the Thought-hub, our initial goal is to contain the kobalds within the mountain. So be prepared to do some climbing. Until then, pick a spot, and get some sleep,¡± he finished his speech quickly, obviously not interested in going into any details. Nero stood there, still in the front foyer, watching everyone break up and start looking for a place to sleep. He felt like they were intruding into someone¡¯s home, and it was vaguely offensive to see them all just treat the situation as completely normal. Nero¡¯s eyes widened as he watched Nick casually walk up to the small wet-bar and pour himself a drink. While dropping a few cubes of ice into a glass, the man had the gall to pick up a picture frame and examine the apartment¡¯s owners. Nero couldn¡¯t believe it. His jaw actually dropped when he saw Nick offer up a smile and a small toast to the picture, before setting it down where he found it and walking off like he owned the place. Rose was already passed out, face-down on one of the couches. But, he had no idea where Cathleen and Wesker had gone. The place had so many doors and hallways that he figured they could be anywhere by now. Deciding to just embrace the madness, he boldly walked into the common room and started looking around. Heading over to one of the hallways, he saw a few rooms off to the side and figured that there was probably a bedroom around there somewhere. The first door led to some kind of study. It was nice, but the couch didn¡¯t look very comfortable. Moving on, he opened another door to see Cathleen stripping out of her combat leathers, looking at him curiously, as if she were wondering if he needed something. Nero¡¯s face went blank, and he just slowly backed away and closed the door. ¡®A world without shame is a lot less fun than I thought it would be. If there is no feeling of ¡®being bad¡¯, then all the excitement is sucked out of the experience. Is this how plastic surgeons back home feel about nudity? That must suck,¡¯ he thought to himself. Putting the matter aside, he tried another door and finally found an empty bedroom. It looked like a smaller kids room, complete with a pile of clothes in the corner. Doing a double take, Nero tilted his head in confusion. ¡®What¡¯s the point of throwing your clothes in the corner, but still taking the time to fold them?¡¯ he wondered. Find this and other great novels on the author''s preferred platform. Support original creators! Everything about the room vaguely reminded him of a teenage boy¡¯s bedroom, but the details were all wrong. There were posters hanging on the walls of attractive women, but they were all action shots of them either fighting, or standing proudly in front of equipment of some kind. They didn¡¯t look like something a snot-nosed brat might use to ¡­ you know. If anything, they looked like female empowerment posters. Walking over to take a closer look at the one hanging above the desk, he saw that it was a poster of an arena fighter. In bold letters at the top it declared, ¡®Level 20 championship, year Dorchester 1362¡¯. There was a stat box showing her record and who she had fought. Another little box had information on her biography along with a description of her abilities. All of the information provided a beautiful background to the image of her standing proudly over a defeated opponent. She was dressed in tight combat leathers, her chin raised as if she were daring someone to face her, and she was holding a short spear and a small buckler in her hands. ¡®Maybe this is a teen girl¡¯s room?¡¯ he thought. Looking down at the desk, he saw a letter sitting there addressed to ¡®The soldier using my room¡¯. His eyebrows rose a little in surprise, and he leaned over to read it. To the soldier using my room, Thank you for defending our walls. I hope you kill a lot of kobalds and can return safely to your family. If you need any of my weapons for a back-up, they¡¯re in my closet. Please don¡¯t take my spear though. I need it for my final exam, and I hate using the ones at the center. I left some paper under this letter so you can write a letter back to me, and so you can leave a message for any of the other soldiers that are going to use my room. My dad says the most important thing in a fight is to rely on your team-mates, so remember to do that. And don¡¯t forget that they¡¯re counting on you too. One day, I¡¯ll pay back what you¡¯ve done for me, I promise. Fight hard, and don¡¯t die, Toby Hewitt Nero stood there in stunned silence for at least 30 seconds before his brain eventually rebooted. ¡®Alright, so it¡¯s not the room of a teenage girl who''s into strong role models,¡¯ he thought to himself. With fresh eyes, he took another look around the room and started to get a better sense of the owner. The young man was dedicated, hardworking, obsessed with powerful women, and completely unrecognizable as a typical teenager. This was the room of an idealized teenager who was dedicated to the greater good, raised in an environment of service, and focused intensely on his personal development. It was creepy. Suppressing a shiver, he turned away from the desk and walked over to the bed. He really didn¡¯t have the energy right now to write a motivational letter, let alone an inspirational note to the next poor soldier that was destined to use this room. For now, he¡¯d just try and get some sleep, then hopefully get up early enough to still have some food. Dropping his satchel at the foot of the bed, he started peeling off his combat leathers. When he was finally finished, he looked down at the pile and wondered how he could feel both clean and grimy at the same time. His cleaning spell just wasn¡¯t cutting it, and he really wanted a shower and a laundromat. Realizing that he neither had the time, nor the patience to deal with anything at the moment, he just hopped on the bed, clad only in his underwear. Staring at the ceiling, he felt his entire body relax and melt into the mattress. As his eyes closed, he apologized to himself for not taking the time to read the mission packet, use the Thought-hub to research kobalds, or any number of things that were vitally important to his immediate survival. He was just too tired, and he¡¯d probably have time to deal with it in the morning¡­ night¡­ whenever the hell he got up. Shooting up from the bed, he reached out for his sword on his hip. After grasping at nothing for a few seconds, his mind started working and he looked over at the door to see Cathleen standing there amused. ¡°We¡¯ve got two hours before muster. Food¡¯s downstairs and the shower is at the end of the hall. I sent you a ping with information about kobalds. Read it while you eat,¡± she said, then simply turned around and closed the door behind her. Blinking a few times to clear his head, Nero tried to process what the hell had just happened. Laying back down on the bed, he stared at the ceiling and took stock of his condition. His identity said he was at 100%, and he surprisingly did feel fine. There was no lingering soreness, or joint pain. His mind felt clear, and he was wide awake. Doing the math, he had only slept like 6 or 7 hours at the most. Was that really all his body needed now? Forcing himself to get up, he bent down and started getting dressed. The stiff leather didn¡¯t feel right, and he hoped his constant use of the cleaning spell wasn¡¯t causing it break down or something. Mentally adding it to the impressively long list of things he planned on getting answers to, he threw his satchel over his shoulder and headed off toward the door. Food first, then studying, if there was time, he¡¯d come back for a shower. ¡®Need over greed,¡¯ he told himself. As he passed the desk, he saw the letter from Toby still sitting there. Coming to a stop, he felt his shoulders sag and he sighed in annoyance. He just didn¡¯t have it in him to not write something when the kid sounded so idealistic. Sitting down at the desk, he set Toby¡¯s letter aside and started writing his response. Not even thinking about it, he wrote in English. Toby, Thanks for letting me borrow your room. I didn¡¯t wash the sheets, because I was too tired. But considering that I probably won¡¯t be the last person to use your room, I doubt you care. I didn¡¯t take any of your weapons. I¡¯ve already got my own, and I prefer magic anyway. If you want some words of wisdom, here you go. Chicks dig independent guys with money. Don¡¯t simp, or you¡¯ll be friend-zoned faster than a¡­ something really fast. Also, remember to stay in school and to not do drugs. Nero Lord Walker. Nero looked at what he wrote, and shrugged. ¡®Good enough,¡¯ he thought. It was too bad he couldn¡¯t think of a ¡®faster than¡¯ metaphor that was remotely PG enough to include in the letter. Looking at the crossed out ¡®Nero¡¯, he debated whether he should just rewrite the whole damned thing. After deciding that he didn¡¯t care, he put his letter under Toby¡¯s, and started on his note to the next soldier who¡¯d borrow the young man¡¯s room. Random Soldier, I don¡¯t know enough about the military or what¡¯s going on. So, instead of words of wisdom, or secrets that will keep you alive, I¡¯ll just leave a joke. Hopefully, it will at least be funny enough to bring a smile to your face before you are sent somewhere horrible. What do you call a sword that isn¡¯t yours? Stolen. You shouldn¡¯t steal, it¡¯s bad. Don¡¯t take the kid¡¯s weapons, we already took his room. Anyways, hope you don¡¯t die, Lord Walker Nero looked down at what he¡¯d written with a smile. ¡®Perfect,¡¯ he thought. Leaving the note right where it was, he got up and pushed the chair back under the desk. After doing a few brief stretches, he opened the door and headed off to get some breakfast¡­ or maybe dinner¡­ either way it will probably be better than rations. Hopefully, there would still be some coffee, he had some studying to do. Chapter 142 - Youre good, but Im better. Currently at the headquarters of Precision Shipping, Vera sat in the middle of the conference room, her chair turned away from the table. With a subtle smile on her face she looked out the floor-to-ceiling windows out onto the city. Even knowing that Nicholas was only back in Dorchester to deal with the kobald threat, it had been nice to be able to speak with him again. She mentally reviewed the conversation she¡¯d just had with her husband, and couldn¡¯t help but chuckle. Apparently, Nero¡¯s ability to perceive the flows occurring within the ether was just as impressive as she thought it would be. Weeks ago, she¡¯d seen him copy a rather complicated cleaning spell after watching her cast it a single time. While the young man didn¡¯t realize how incredible that was, she surely did. At the time, she didn¡¯t know the details of how he did it, but she had been able to make some deductions. And as usual, patience and planning served her well. ¡®An absurd talent, already being forgotten by the leadership. And I¡¯ve successfully aligned him with my house,¡¯ she thought with some pride. As she reveled in being proven right about her assumptions, she felt a ping from one of her aides, alerting her that her guests have arrived. Her smile vanished, and she turned away from the windows. All of her distracting thoughts were pushed aside for the moment, as she preferred to always enter a battle with a clear mind. The conference room doors opened, and in walked Victoria Blackwood along with four aides, or perhaps councilors? Vera stood up, gesturing lightly with one hand to the chairs opposite her position at the table. ¡°Please take a seat. Tea or coffee is available if you¡¯d like, and the table¡¯s link is available to you if you require it. When you¡¯re ready, we can begin.¡± Using her keen perception, honed over years of brutal combat in the business arena, she evaluated her opponents. Lord Blackwood was currently much more composed than the last time she¡¯d seen her. Which made sense considering the woman¡¯s head had been on the metaphorical chopping block at the time. But now, her robes were immaculate, proudly displaying her house''s colors in vibrant shades of yellow and black. She was calm, composed, and her slight smile was the perfect example of a potential ally hoping for a productive meeting. Even her essence field seemed to radiate friendship and welcome. But, to Vera¡¯s eyes, the woman was merely presenting a perfect front. Her counselors, for it was obvious that that¡¯s what they were, didn¡¯t have nearly enough control over their expressions. It was clear that they were all wary of what might happen, and their essence fields were humming with their unease. After pouring herself a cup of tea from the tray in the center of the table, Victoria Blackwood¡¯s soft voice began the negotiations. ¡°Since the arbitration meeting in the Hall of Leadership, I¡¯ve had a chance to take a better look at Lord Walker¡¯s portfolio. I hadn¡¯t realized how much of Dorchester¡¯s trade House Walker, and you, currently control. Your acquisition of Lord Bevin¡¯s shipping concerns was a master-stroke. I fear we may not be able to live up to the standard pledge of a 20% price reduction through the preferred contracts, that is if you intend to apply them across all of Precision Shipping. At most, we¡¯d be able to do 5% and not for 50 years, 10 would be a much more reasonable time-frame. After all, we are at war, while also in the middle of density shift. Our city needs to focus on the fights in front of us, not the balance sheet.¡± Victoria Blackwood never raised her voice, she merely modulated her tone to convey her apology and a slight hint of disgust at Vera¡¯s greed. ¡®So, she¡¯s opting to play as a director. Interesting,¡¯ thought Vera, while raising one eyebrow in surprise. She hadn¡¯t expected the new Lord Blackwood to be so direct, or to be the type of player willing to set the tone of the engagement. From what she¡¯d learned of her opponent, the woman had won most of her previous battles by using deception and misdirection. Though unexpected, it wasn¡¯t a problem. There are ways to deal with directors. Simply force them to fight with themselves. Staying silent, Vera calmly took a sip of her tea while locking eyes with her opponent. Seconds passed and the tension in the room seemed to build. Right as Lord Blackwood was about to speak again, Vera began talking. ¡°When someone stands in the Hall of Leadership, their words are treated as binding. You avoided execution, saved your House from its expected fall, and proclaimed your desire for friendship and alliance with House Walker in front of the entire council. Now you are here, subtly implying that Lord Walker was dishonest with his words, once again attempting to cast yourself as a victim. How very bold of you,¡± said Vera, while slightly smirking and keeping her tone light. Victoria¡¯s mouth snapped shut the moment Vera had started speaking. Her eyes narrowed at Vera¡¯s reframing of her argument. She hadn¡¯t expected the woman to be so shameless. It was obvious that Lord Walker had misrepresented his ¡®transportation company¡¯, it was more like a massive shipping concern spanning over half of Dorchester, with interests extending across the whole region. And now his proxy was sitting here, maintaining his deception without batting an eye. ¡®Is she really not going to negotiate at all? I thought she was a more nuanced player than this?¡¯ she thought. Doubling-down on her earlier implication, Victoria said, ¡°You can¡¯t possibly expect the standard preferential contract terms to apply to the entirety of Precision shipping. If you were to abuse those terms, House Blackwood¡¯s entire production and maintenance facilities will be doing nothing but attending to your needs. We wouldn¡¯t be able to fulfill any of our current orders, and the resulting costs would have our doors closed within a year. You had to have run the numbers.¡± Vera¡¯s smirk didn¡¯t falter. Her eyes ran across the pale councilors and settled on the woman sitting across from her. It was obvious that she had come here expecting to argue about the specific terms of the preferential contracts. In a way, she was right, it was impossible for them to actually adhere to the terms as they were presented. However, the woman had made a mistake by attempting to take that as a given. Victoria Blackwood had chosen the wrong argument. And if there was one thing Vera was good at, it was taking advantage of her opponent''s mistakes. ¡°Of course I ran the numbers. I know exactly how many engineers, wagon-smiths, woodcarvers, and maintenance workers you have. I even know how many janitors are currently working at each of your 7 facilities. If I were to temporarily send my maintenance staff on vacation, I could fill your entire production capacity for the next 100 years while still running at a profit. I could just keep ordering wagons and repairs until you failed to meet the demand. I could even use my facilities to take over the contracts that you would be defaulting on. Keep in mind, I wasn¡¯t the one to agree to preferential contracts in front of the leadership council, I¡¯d just be abiding by them. Without having stated specific terms, the standard was assumed. You agreed that the details would be discussed at a later date, not that they¡¯d be negotiated,¡± said Vera, again not making any demands, still letting her opponent¡¯s own words act as the debate¡¯s counter-point. Enjoying the story? Show your support by reading it on the official site. Clenching her teeth, Victoria replied, ¡°I said before that I would prefer to be a friend to House Walker. This is not how House Blackwood treats its friends. I believe that there -¡± Vera¡¯s voice cut through room like a sword, cleanly interrupting what Victoria was saying. ¡°Friends don¡¯t come into other people¡¯s houses and cast aspersions on their host¡¯s honor. They live up to their word, or at the very least apologize for not being able to. House Walker has done nothing against House Blackwood. Have I said anything that is untrue, or should Lord Walker be held accountable for your misunderstanding of the situation?¡± Victoria glared across the table. Had this been any other situation, she¡¯d be asking for a duel to settle the matter. However, there was no way to frame it. Vera hadn¡¯t said anything insulting, or even remotely questionable. In fact, she¡¯d only stated facts while not making a single demand. Not to mention that she¡¯d be impugning her own words if she presented a formal challenge. It was both humiliating, and infuriating. ¡°No. However, I will not beggar my house to save it,¡± said Victoria, drawing a line in the sand. Hopefully, Vera would push it, and they could settle this in the arena. Vera¡¯s smile was chilling, as she replied, ¡°There is no need for House Blackwood to fall. House Walker is more than happy to work with you to see that your pledge is honored and that your house can rise alongside it. House Walker desires friendship as much as you do. Perhaps I can offer some suggestions that will be more palatable to you.¡± Lord Blackwood didn¡¯t like where this was going, but she really didn¡¯t have much choice in the matter. ¡°Please do,¡± she replied, her nails digging into her palm to hide her rage at the situation she found herself in. With a patient smile, Vera started dictating the terms she had always known her opponent would eventually find herself agreeing to¡­ ----- Nero chewed on a delightful meat cube, possibly made out of some weird animal he was incapable of identifying. Unlike the food he¡¯d grown used to at the center, the offerings at the buffet table were rather odd. All around him, elites were sitting at folding tables, discussing the upcoming battles, and how command should deploy Dorchester¡¯s forces. Instead of boasting of their prospective body count and other types of typical alpha behavior, all Nero saw was a bunch of dorks discussing optimal combat strategies and expressing concern over the city¡¯s resource allocations. After a few minutes of listening to the debates, Nero decidedly ignored them. In his opinion, they were ¡®soldiering¡¯ wrong, and it was annoying. Where was the overconfident asshole bragging about how many kobalds he would kill? Why wasn¡¯t anyone demanding better pay, or griping about an annoying superior officer that had it out for them? Fed up, Nero focused on the weird, but surprisingly tasty food. He also took the opportunity to look at what Cathleen had sent him. At first glance, her ping was short, but sweet. It had the Thought-hub equivalent to a link, one which provided a lecture series that he could watch in his head. It was a comprehensive look at kobalds, and their many varieties. It touched on their reproductive habits, societal goals, notable characteristics, and their historical relation to humans. After taking a closer look, Nero frowned in annoyance. In total, it was months of video lectures that Nero would probably never have a chance to actually sit down and watch. ¡®What the hell am I supposed to do with this? Does she expect me to download it into my brain or something?¡¯ he wondered. Luckily, there was another section that provided a series of attached summaries for each lecture. By perusing them, he was at least able to get a general idea of what kobalds actually were, and what he should expect when he eventually fought them. Looking at the pictures of the different types of kobalds, Nero felt like any studying he managed to get done in the short term would turn out to be pointless. Depending on the type of kobald, they could be anywhere between three and seven feet tall. Some of them resembled hyena-shaped children. Others looked like giant crocodile men. There were even some that looked like pot-bellied midgets with chicken heads. The entire introduction to the species was pointless. However, he had to admit that it was at least interesting. Deciding that general knowledge wasn¡¯t going to be very helpful, he closed out the ping and went to see what the news section of the Thought-hub had to say. Hopefully, this world¡¯s freakish perspective on governmental information sharing would apply to the current crisis they were facing. He wasn¡¯t disappointed. On one of the news feeds, he was able to see actual footage of the soldiers fighting the kobalds. He even got, what he hoped, was a good summary of what had happened since the beginning of the hostilities. The feed he chose was titled ¡®The Mountain Conflict: What we know so far¡¯, and it explained how the initial forces attempting to open the mountain city ran into kobald scouting parties. After several initial battles, the mountain gate was reinforced, and the focus turned to closing off all the exits out of the mountain. The next step would be the offensive into the mountain to clear them out. It was all presented in a very patriotic fashion, praising the might of Dorchester¡¯s forces, and promoting the ideal that humans would never give up in the face of annihilation. It wasn¡¯t even really rhetoric, it was just a series of facts about what the kobald¡¯s society wanted, and how if humans wanted to survive, they had to fight. All in all, it was both informative, and inspiring. The kobalds were like settlers looking to eventually become terraformers. When their society got advanced enough, their universal desire is always to change the local landscape to be like one of the elemental planes. Letting them run rampant would cause a local portion of reality to overlap with whatever plane of existence the kobalds deemed their ¡®home¡¯. Despite how informative the feed was, Nero didn¡¯t understand most of the details concerning planar magic, and essence mirroring. There was even a section on ¡®gates¡¯ and ¡®control zones¡¯ that went completely over his head. But the visuals were what really drew his attention. Nero¡¯s jaw dropped as images of the reinforced mountain gate were projected directly into his head. Massive shields hovered over stone walls, while giant spheres of essence lit up the cavernous tunnel leading into the mountain. He watched the soldiers beat back hordes of kobalds who were throwing themselves at the blockade, their hissing death-throes were painful to listen to. Unlike monsters, the kobalds didn¡¯t disappear when they were killed. He saw images of wagons filled with piles of bodies being pulled out of the mountain. To Nero, it looked like a caravan of nightmares. From what he could tell, these kobalds were of the shorter variety. At most, they were 4ft tall, and resembled fantasy goblins crossed with a gecko. They didn¡¯t look very dragon-like. If anything, they were kind of cute if you ignored the murderous rage in their eyes. However, in some of the records from the battle, he could see taller kobalds directing the cannon-fodder. Although, they were robed, so he wasn¡¯t able to see much. For the moment, it didn¡¯t look like combat magic was being used at all. There wasn¡¯t even much ability usage that he could see. The kobalds seemed to be relying on their numbers to just overwhelm the soldier¡¯s defenses. Nero had lost his appetite, and subsequently pushed his plate a toward the center of the table. At least it looked like the kobalds weren¡¯t open to any peace talks. Nero hadn¡¯t realized how reassuring it felt to see that they were actually deserving of what was coming for them. Maybe it was just a function of being in a fantasy world, but the fact that the enemy was so clearly hostile was great for his conscience. Before he knew it, his time was up, and the sergeants started yelling at them to form-up outside the building. ¡®I guess I¡¯m not gonna have time for that shower. Even if no one else is gonna be a bloodthirsty maniac, I certainly am. If it weren¡¯t for these lizards I¡¯d have been relaxing in the encampment, catching up on my reading and finally getting to my mission packet. I¡¯m totally gonna go all murder-hobo on the little bastards,¡¯ he promised himself. Chapter 143 - Trainings over? What does that mean? Victoria Blackwood walked into the director¡¯s office at the main branch of Blackwood Works. The moment the door closed behind her, she allowed an almost imperceptible smirk to appear on her face. Across the room, behind the office¡¯s desk sat her uncle, Colin Ebonwood. She saw him look up at her expectantly, trying to discern what had happened by her demeanor. ¡®He should know better,¡¯ she thought with some amusement. He was one of the few to know how much effort she had put into perfecting the art of being inscrutable. Giving up on trying to guess how the meeting had gone, he asked, ¡°My lord, how did it go?¡± Victoria walked across the room to pour herself something to drink from the wet-bar. She let the moment fill with silence as she treated the office as if it were her own. It was a subtle power play, and an unnecessary one, but she did it anyway. Her uncle was one of her most ardent supporters, and it amused her to feel his nervous anticipation of her answer. Turning around to face him, she let her smile bloom while lifting a glass of wine as if she were toasting the moment. ¡°She bought it,¡¯ said Victoria, her voice full of both relief and pride. Nearly jumping up and down in excitement, Colin bolted around the desk to join her in celebrating their success. ¡°So she agreed to be bought off with a 20% stake in company? No preferential contracts at all?!?¡± he asked while pouring himself a glass of his favorite fruit-wine. Victoria¡¯s smile dimmed as she recalled the terms she had been forced to agree to. ¡°Unfortunately we weren¡¯t nearly that lucky. The woman was good. The best I¡¯ve ever faced. Luckily the plan worked, and I was able to convince her that I was only trying to limit the financial burdens the contracts would cause. She would have had us turning our entire manufacturing capabilities over to House Walker if I hadn¡¯t been careful,¡± she said, her voice wavering a little as she remembered how difficult the negotiations had been. Colin frowned and asked, ¡°So what terms did you reach, and are you actually happy with them?¡± Nodding easily, Victoria walked over to one of the couches to take a seat. Easing into the cushions, she sighed in contentment, letting the stress of the day fall off her shoulders. ¡°She agreed to be paid off with a stake in the company, but she ended up requiring 40% ownership if there weren¡¯t going to be any preferred contracts. Even worse, 3 of our 7 facilities will be solely dedicated to servicing the needs of House Walker and his interests concerning Precision Shipping. While they won¡¯t have controlling interest of the company, the contract is ironclad and if we don¡¯t fulfill our end of the deal, then those facilities will be forfeit and we would need to buy House Walker¡¯s position out at market value. To say that Blackwood Works is now inextricably tied to House Walker¡¯s interests would be a massive understatement,¡± she finished with a small smile, while shaking her head at how badly what she had just said sounded. Shocked, Colin replied, ¡°I don¡¯t understand. That doesn¡¯t sound good at all. In fact, it sounds like we just suffered a massive defeat.¡± Victoria looked up at her uncle with a smile, and replied, ¡°It does, doesn¡¯t it. But that¡¯s how we expected it to look. Perhaps I was forced to give up more than I thought I would, but in the end it doesn¡¯t matter. House Walker has acquired more than 20% of the business, therefore, according to the law, he is now a part owner. So, my plan can move forward.¡± Not understanding, Colin asked for clarification, ¡°I thought the point was to reduce the cost of fulfilling the preferred contracts?¡± Shaking her head quickly, she replied, ¡°Not at all. What we needed to do was to remove Blackwood Works from House Blackwood¡¯s profit ledger. If we had retained over 80% ownership of the company, then any losses would have affected us in the political ladder standings. This way, due to House Walker¡¯s royal exceptions, any losses or profits concerning Blackwood Works are now entirely separate from us. Furthermore, as partners with House Walker, we can now apply to use the same clever manipulations that House Salvatore-Verena is currently abusing to reduce our overall tax load. Although that only applies to Blackwood Works, that still saves us from losing our ranking. And, with those profits not affecting our tax burden to the city, we¡¯ll be able to use that capital to open new businesses and take advantage of the increase in resources coming in due to the density shift.¡± Colin began working through what she was saying, then paled at the realization of the consequences. ¡°My lord, but that would mean that my house won¡¯t be able to gain any points in the ladder by running Blackwood Works for you. Is my branch to bear this burden alone?¡± he asked in fear. Shaking her head, she replied with a tone of compassion, ¡°Don¡¯t worry uncle. I¡¯ll make sure to put your house in charge of our new trading house initiative. If Vera Salvatore-Verena can do it, so can I. After all, as an ally of House Walker, it would be a waste to miss out on this kind of opportunity.¡± As Colin¡¯s face showed his confusion, he asked, ¡°What trading house initiative?¡± Lord Victoria Blackwood didn¡¯t respond, but merely sipped her wine with a calculating smile adorning her face. ----- Nero wasn¡¯t lucky enough to be in the first row of the assembled elites, so all he could see was once again the backpack of the person standing in front of him. ¡®This is getting a little annoying,¡¯ he thought. Luckily, his perception field made up for his visual shortcomings. He saw the sergeants standing at attention in front of the assembled soldiers, each of them eagerly waiting to hear what Captain Angelton had to say. ¡°We¡¯ve been tasked with making sure the mountain-side exits are not used to funnel enemy troops outside our walls. While the main spear of our forces makes its way into the mountain gate, we¡¯ll be in charge of maintaining control of our assigned area, and reporting any attempts the enemy makes to break out of their confinement,¡± said Captain Angelton, his voice hard as stone, and surprisingly loud. ¡°Today, after stopping by Gate 20¡¯s army compound for resupply, we¡¯ll be heading directly toward our area of operations. By nightfall, we¡¯ll have our forward base up and running, and the initial defenses in place. In the coming days, we¡¯ll be patrolling the area, marking any possible egress points out of the mountain, and wiping out any kobalds that dare to show their ugly faces above ground,¡± he finished, nearly growling with promised violence. Nero could feel the excitement of the men and women all around him. The essence in the ether was doing a wonderful job transmitting their urge to kill the enemy as if there was some kind of feed-back loop at play. It was like mob-mentality on steroids. He felt his heart-rate rising, and his emotions started to mirror what he was feeling from his fellow elites. It took some effort, but he was able to disassociate from the experience. While he could feel it still happening all around him, he managed to keep his own emotions untethered from the group. ¡°Many of you have years of service and experience to call upon, but others are new to this type of active engagement. While we had intended to slowly grow your skills through carefully monitored and measured battles, each chosen for their slowly increasing difficulty, that is no longer an option. As elites, you agreed to give your all to the service of Dorchester, and now you¡¯ll be getting that chance a little earlier than you might like. However, if you all work together, watch each other¡¯s backs, share your skills, and trust each other, the kobalds will serve as a perfect whetstone to hone your identities against,¡± promised the Captain, now starting to pace back and forth in front of the assembled elites. Nero had to admit, this was a much better speech than the Captain¡¯s last one. At least this one touched on the good ¡®ole ¡®spirit of teamwork¡¯. Yet, he still felt like it was rather bland. If Nero had been giving it, then there would have been a lot more hate-mongering against the kobalds, and definitely something about how everyone here ¡®carries the hopes and dreams of the common man¡¯ or some other bull-shit like that. Love this novel? Read it on Royal Road to ensure the author gets credit. ¡°You¡¯ll all still be in your teams, so you won¡¯t have to relearn the combat tactics that you¡¯ve grown used to. However, we don¡¯t know exactly what you¡¯ll be facing. With so much ground to cover, intelligence from the mage tower will be minimal. We shouldn¡¯t have any trouble locating the essence events that you¡¯ll be tasked with handling, but it is possible that kobald scouting parties have already made their way to the surface. So, keep your head on a swivel, and maintain your vigilance,¡± he warned. Nero nearly snorted at the classic fantasy quote. ¡°Our support forces won¡¯t be coming along this time, and we¡¯ll be on our own for the most part. Depending on how long we¡¯re in the field, we¡¯ll be receiving resupply from our forces within the walls. However, our focus will be on fighting, not training. At no point are you to over-exert your centers. We will need to be ready to fight at all times, and at the very least hold out until reinforcements can reach our position. We are going to be the forward intelligence arm of command, and we need to make sure that our area of responsibility is covered at all times,¡± he emphasized the mission, and his eyes promised that anyone not meeting his expectations would regret it. There really was too much Nero didn¡¯t understand. Why couldn¡¯t the mages scry the area? If they were worried about kobalds crawling out of their holes, then why didn¡¯t they just bomb the hell out them? They could at least collapse the tunnels, it wouldn¡¯t be that hard. And why were there going to be more essence events? Did the density shift affect the mountain too? Thinking about it, he realized how stupid a question that was. Why wouldn¡¯t it? Yet, seeing their former primary responsibility relegated to an after-thought still seemed a little weird. ¡°Depending on the magnitude of the ether waves, we may not have contact with Dorchester¡¯s Thought-hub. At best, our ability to use our links will be limited. Therefore, when we set up our forward operating base, we¡¯ll be getting a communication tower up and running as soon as possible. There should be plenty of lumber, as we won¡¯t be heading too high into the mountains. However, expect there to be a lot of plateaus and ridges that you¡¯ll have to deal with. If you haven¡¯t worked on your climbing skills, then expect to have them get a workout,¡± he said, his happiness at the prospect of their discomfort clearly coming across through his tone. ¡°Team leaders will have the mission packets for the current assignment, so make sure to read them at your first opportunity. For now, collect your things, say your good-byes, and use the facilities while you still have the chance. We¡¯ll be leaving in thirty minutes. Be back here on time, as you don¡¯t want me sending someone to find you. Dismissed,¡± he finished, then promptly turned away to converse with some of his aides and sergeants who¡¯d been watching his speech. Nero watched as everyone dispersed to go about their business. The was so much excitement and determination in the ether that he felt like he was at a motivational event or something. Looking around, he found Nick staring off into the distance with a smile on his face. Based on the vacant look in the man¡¯s eyes, he was using his link, probably to say goodbye to Vera. Figuring that he should do the same, Nero sent her a short ping in message format. Hey Vera, I¡¯m heading off to go kill kobalds, or maybe just monitor some holes in the big mountain full of baddies. I don¡¯t think it¡¯s ¡®top secret¡¯ or anything, but you¡¯d know better than I would. I¡¯m sure the business¡¯s are doing great. I have absolutely nothing to contribute on that front. I¡¯m still carrying around a bag full of essence crystals, and I¡¯ll probably have a shit load more by the time I get back. I have no idea how much they¡¯re worth, but people seem to want them, so I¡¯m guessing they¡¯re a good seller. Anyway, thanks for all your help with the noble assholes. Hopefully no one is interested in killing me at the moment. In fact, from what I can tell, I¡¯m feeling a little forgotten about all of the sudden. The constant feeling of being watched has lightened up a little. I know someone is still watching, but it isn¡¯t nearly as annoying as it was just a few days ago. But if you hear anything, send me a ping. We might be able to get link-service out where we¡¯re going, so I should be able to check my messages. Anyways, hopefully you are handling the new Lord Blackwood lady. Be sure not to trust her, she¡¯s a slippery one. That chick totally reminds me of a public relations director. She¡¯s all image, so don¡¯t get fooled. I¡¯m probably overthinking it, I¡¯m sure you¡¯ll handle it. By the way, I¡¯m rich, right? So, when I get back, I¡¯d like to finally see my big ass house. If there isn¡¯t a pool, could you maybe have someone build me one. I¡¯ve always wanted a pool, so if it isn¡¯t too much trouble, could you have someone install one. One of those indoor pools with an attached sauna would be sweet. And a hot-tub. I don¡¯t know if you guys have those here, but I used to see rich people with those on what you¡¯d call ¡®memory engrams¡¯ all the time. They were awesome, and essential for my baller mentality to really blossom. Also a library. Gotta have a bunch of books about magic. Anyways, thanks for everything. Stay safe, Nero He finished up his message quickly, as his perception field showed Rose approaching from behind him. Turning around, he offered the young woman a grin. Rose¡¯s smile looked a little forced, and Nero could feel her anxiety through his essence field. Usually, he could barely feel her at all, so she must really be worried about something. ¡°What¡¯s up pretty lady?¡± he asked, trying to cheer her up. Rose¡¯s smile became a little more real, and she replied, ¡°Lord Walker, I wanted to thank you for looking out for me during our time in the wilds. I know that we were placed on the same team for several reasons, some of which aren¡¯t too honorable. However, we are also both the youngest elites currently in training. Your talents are quickly leaving me behind, and I¡¯d just like to assure you that I¡¯ll do my best to keep up.¡± Nero¡¯s eyebrows rose in surprise. He could almost hear her subtext screaming at him, ¡®Please don¡¯t let me die out there. This was just supposed to be training. I¡¯m not ready to fight a war!¡¯ Looking up at the young woman who¡¯d been sent to spy on him for the military, he could only assume the general had made it clear that her mission was no longer a priority. She must be worried that she¡¯d be left out to dry and forgotten about. Trying to impart some reassurance through his smile, Nero said, ¡°Don¡¯t worry Rose. Despite our weird spy vs. spy relationship, you¡¯re still part of the team. I promised you weeks ago that I¡¯d look out for you, and I¡¯m a man¡­ lord of my word. Just stay close to the group, and keep your head down. I¡¯m sure Cathleen will probably kill off everything before it becomes much of a threat. And if something does happen, I¡¯ll just resuscitate you. You¡¯ve really got nothing to worry about, when you think about it,¡± he promised her. ¡°Fighting a sentient foe is entirely different than fighting a monster,¡± said a voice from right behind him. The surprise caused an involuntary jump, and his heart started pounding while pumping obscene amounts of adrenaline into his body. Holding a hand to his chest in shock, he spun around to glare at the woman standing behind him. She stood there as if everything were perfectly normal, her spear casually leaning against her shoulder. Now that he knew she was there, he could clearly see and feel her within his essence field. Yet, seconds ago, he could have sworn there was no one there. ¡°How in the fuck do you keep doing that! It¡¯s really starting to freak me out. Seriously, you¡¯re going to make me paranoid,¡± he glared at Cathleen, not at all happy that she could so easily evade his senses. Nero heard Rose giggle a little, then cough to cover her involuntary girl-moment. Cathleen just looked at Nero with a slight hint of confusion on her face. Her tone was calm, but he could feel some worry underscoring her words, ¡°Mingling one¡¯s essence field into the surrounding ether is an essential skill even beginning mages should be taught. Has the war-mage that has been teaching you not covered this?¡± Nero replied, ¡°You mean the essence diffusion thing so people can¡¯t track me? Yeah, I learned that. But I have no idea how to hide my essence field like you do. No one does. I can see everyone but you really. In fact, I¡¯m not exactly sure what it is that you¡¯re doing. It¡¯s like I just don¡¯t notice you until you say something.¡± Pausing, Nero took a step back so that both Rose and Cathleen were standing next to each other, and he could see them both at the same time. His eyes furrowed and he took a good look at them with all of his senses. ¡°You know, you both are kinda like that. I tend to forget you¡¯re there. That sounds bad¡­ But it¡¯s not like I¡¯m ignoring you, it¡¯s just¡­ I don¡¯t know how to say it. What I mean to say is that my senses seem to just skip you, as if you weren¡¯t worth paying attention to,¡± he said, failing miserably to explain the phenomenon that he was experiencing. While Rose seemed a little offended, Cathleen showed one of her rare smiles. ¡°We¡¯re both just good at hiding. That intention to fade into the background comes across in our essence fields. To see that which wants to be hidden, you must train yourself to look at what isn¡¯t there,¡± she said, her smile hinting at some deep revelation that he should be gleaning from her bullshit. Nero stared at her, his face blank of any emotion. There were many things that he could put up with. Insults were fine. Stupid questions and statements were expected. Opinions that he disagreed with wouldn¡¯t faze him. Even recriminations for his behavior weren¡¯t a problem. However, if there was one thing he was increasingly unable to stand¡­ it was the fact that so many people here were incapable of saying something without sounding like they were auditioning for an episode of Kung-Fu the legendary¡­ something or another. While his inner troll was clawing at the walls, begging to be unleashed on the well-meaning warrior woman, Nero maintained his composure. ¡°If you¡¯ll both excuse me, I¡¯m going to go steal as much coffee and donuts as I can by abusing my personal space. Good day,¡± he said, then started to walk off. Cathleen watched him leave with a smile, but Rose asked, ¡°How much coffee could you po-¡± ¡°I said good day!¡± he barked over his shoulder, then continued on his way. His mood was completely restored, as in this life and the one before, he¡¯d NEVER actually had a chance to say that to someone in a real conversation. One of his fantasies had finally come true. Even better, he was soon heading off into the magical mountains to defend humanity from fantasy creatures hell-bent on taking over the world. No matter how much he didn¡¯t want to go off and fight a war, or how many of his personal insecurities were screaming at him that this was an incredibly bad idea. He had to admit, he was really enjoying his time in this fantasy world. Chapter 144 - Skills to pay the bills. Arch-mage Jennings calculating eyes watched Adept Newbanks walk out of his office. ¡®Such a capable and promising young mage. Hopefully she manages to maintain that level of work ethic over the next few months. She¡¯s going to need it,¡¯ he thought to himself. As the door closed behind her, Jennings leaned back in his chair and sighed. Having just heard her report covering all the things he¡¯d been ignoring, and noting her subtle judgmental tone, he let his mind filter through the data files she had provided to support her conclusions. In addition to a detailed review of the hundreds of mages currently working in the Dorchester Tower of Magic, she had included policy profiles for all the major power blocs in the city. There were also personality analytics, family trees, even a section covering popular opinions of the citizenry. Even though he recognized that all of this information was important, he still didn¡¯t feel like reading it at the moment. Setting all that drivel to the side, he focused on the primary issue he had to address: The kobald infestation. Looking through the situation summary she provided, he could see that the army seemed to be adequately handling it at the moment. Whether or not they will actually manage to defend the city was the real question. Turning his attention away from the reports, he sent his mind out to scry on the mountain. It was impressive that the kobalds had managed to hide themselves from the local mages so well. Regardless of the method, he doubted they¡¯d be able to stop him from seeing what they were hiding, that is if he bothered to put in any real effort. At first glance, he could see the empty mountain tunnels. The images he was coming through were exactly what he¡¯d expect when he was delving into a mountain city that had been abandoned for hundreds of years. There were empty housing complexes, dead farms, dilapidated manufacturing centers, and deactivated power plants. He could practically feel the tomb-like silence echoing through the ether. He increased his focus, probing for inconsistencies in the image, and surprisingly didn¡¯t find any. He leaned forward in his chair and increased the pressure. Minutes passed as he tried to see through what was obviously an illusion, at least according to first hand accounts from the army¡¯s scouts. Yet, he couldn¡¯t find a single clue that what he was seeing wasn¡¯t actually reality. ¡®How in the hundred hells are they doing that?¡¯ he wondered. Fed up with his failure, he pulled back his probe. Reaching out, he connected with Mage Tower¡¯s scrying apparatus. Rather than disrupt the current operations, he modulated his frequency to run through the essence collectors on a different plane. After all, no one here in this backwater is capable of using a planar modulation technique, so it shouldn¡¯t be a problem. With the aid of the Tower, he returned his probe to the mountain to see what was really going on. The moment his mental probe breached the first tunnel, his eyes widened in surprise. The kobald¡¯s numbers were much larger than he¡¯d expected. A sea of campfires and tents filled the layers of abandoned caves. From the top of the mountain down, there wasn¡¯t a level they hadn¡¯t infested. From what he could tell, Dorchester¡¯s forces were heading toward a tough fight. He saw shamans and berserker squads, bone priests and elemental warriors, there were even totemic warlords standing on platforms organizing their troops. Shaking his head in pity for the city, he sent his consciousness deeper into the mountain. In the lower levels he saw the kobald¡¯s planar gates. It looked like they were already active, and had been for a while. ¡®So they are some type of fire-breed. That¡¯s something at least. If they were something less common, General Branson wouldn¡¯t have a chance,¡¯ he thought to himself. Regardless, this situation put him in a delicate position. On one hand, the law was clear. His position and ties explicitly denied him any role in the coming conflict. He could not participate, advise, support, or manipulate events to aid the city during this crisis. At least not until they ask him to. At best, the position of the court mage, at least one who was appointed by the mage council and not locally sourced, was merely an advisor limited to interpreting the information the local Tower provided him. Technically, he shouldn¡¯t have even looked at the mountain, as there wasn¡¯t a mage in Dorchester currently capable of piercing the kobald¡¯s illusion. But on the other hand, he rarely bothered to let the laws influence his actions if he happened to disagree with them. Yet, this wasn¡¯t like his typical antics where he meddled with other people for their own good. This was about the very identity of Dorchester. If he interfered, he could permanently alter the city¡¯s path. This was a trial that the law demanded the city face on its own. The world had provided a challenge, and the city was tasked with meeting it. Closing off all his connections to the outside world, he retreated into his mind to gain some perspective. So much was happening lately, and he wasn¡¯t sure what he should do about it. He¡¯d spent so much time in seclusion, focusing on his research, that he¡¯d forgotten what it was like to deal with ethical questions like this. All he wanted to do was come here and make sure nobody snuffed out the life of a promising and interesting young mage that had caught his eye, a surprising anomaly that had made him laugh and invigorated his thoughts. Yet, he¡¯d already allowed outside forces to meddle in the young man¡¯s life, and his mishandling of the situation had nearly gotten the poor man killed. Shaking his head in anger, he decided that he would stop overthinking it. He came here with a singular purpose, and he¡¯d stick to it. The kobalds and the density shift would be handled by the city, or they wouldn¡¯t be. Either way, his only concern should be protecting the new lord from threats that were political and man-made, and as for the rest, he¡¯d let nature take its course. ¡®The world wants you dead, and how you deal with that fact determines your path,¡¯ he told himself, the words of the first king providing him solace and guidance as always. ----- The trip to their assigned area in the mountains was much easier than Nero had feared. Their first stop was at the command center where they were supposed to refill their rations and replace any broken or lost equipment. Nero didn¡¯t need anything, but he still picked up a few cool looking spears, shields, and some spare clothes while he was there. After all, it was war time, and free stuff was free stuff. It wasn¡¯t like his personal space was running out of room. ¡®Is it getting bigger?¡¯ he wondered. On the way out, he actually managed to sneak out three giant cauldrons of stew. It had taken him 20 minutes of hiding in the kitchens, but he eventually got the job done. It looked like he wouldn¡¯t have to force himself to eat that paste which passed itself off as gruel, at least not for a while. By the time they left the command center, Nero was smiling in victory and planning on how to hide his ill gotten gains from his team-mates. If he was careful, that stew could last him a long time. The story has been taken without consent; if you see it on Amazon, report the incident. After a trip through a teleporter, and another hike through the city, they eventually headed for the mountains. This time, when they left the gate, there wasn¡¯t much to see outside the walls. In front of all the previous gates he¡¯d seen, there were plenty of building and infrastructure outside the walls. Yet, near the mountains, the exterior towns were almost barren. Aside from a few huts and camps, there wasn¡¯t a lot of activity. Almost immediately outside the gate, the terrain started getting rocky. The soil was gravely, and the incline became sloped. There were still trees and some underbrush, but it wasn¡¯t really much of forest. It was now like the base of the Washington mountains. He could see the tree-line extending far up the mountain, and he wasn¡¯t looking forward to the hike. Luckily, the captain kept the pace light, and the trip was rather enjoyable. He was able to practice his mage-armor and his scanning techniques without running into any issues. There were also far fewer monsters and beasts to deal with. Compared to the eastern wilds, this place was pretty tranquil. That wasn¡¯t to say that there weren¡¯t ANY threats, they just weren¡¯t nearly as many. Where their trip through the eastern wilds was a constant barrage of harassments and annoyances, here there were only a few monsters bothering to attack them every hour or so. Even that was only because their group was making so much noise. It got to the point where Nero hardly even noticed it. They marched at a steady pace, which compared to their earlier run, wasn¡¯t at all tiring. And when they had eventually arrived at their destination, Nero felt like the entire trip was almost too easy. It made his neck itch, just waiting for the catch. Breaking out of the tree-line, there was a small plateau that had been chosen for their base camp. Looking around, Nero couldn¡¯t help but classify it as a meadow. But, the reality of what they were doing there quickly broke him out of his musings. After breaking into their teams, they were sent out for lumber. Nero followed Wesker and the others to their destination, and he looked over his shoulder to see the ground being ripped apart by spells. Lines of elites were walking along, churning and packing the dirt into a uniform surface in preparation of their new encampment. The spell was simple, and usually used to clear brush and leaves from the ground. However, the effect in mass was something all together different. He watched the flowers and greenery get mulched into powder, and replaced with gray rocky soil. It was kind of heartbreaking in a way. Trying to shrug off the uncomfortable feeling, Nero chalked it up to humans being humans and focused on the job in front of him. Who knows, maybe the camp will look nice surrounded by all the trees and mountain air. It wasn¡¯t like a serene meadow in the middle of nowhere was too much of a price to pay for a safe haven in what he was sure to be an annoying war. Looking around, he saw that the rest of the team was pulling out their axes, even Nick. ¡°Hey guys, why don¡¯t we just cut down the trees with magic?¡± he asked, not understanding the point of pretending to be a lumberjack. Nick shrugged, and replied, ¡°You can if you want. It¡¯s just much more efficient to use tools imbued with your center. If you have applicable abilities, that would be even better. But I don¡¯t think you can ¡®adapt¡¯ a tree into falling over.¡± Nick chuckled at his incredibly stupid joke. Nero jumped a little, as he heard Cathleen starting to chop down her tree. The sound of the axe biting into the 3 foot wide tree-trunk sounded like a hammer mixed with gunshot. He turned to see large chunks of wood being exploded from the base of the tree she was murdering. ¡®Holy crap,¡¯ he thought. As a city boy, he wasn¡¯t really used to seeing civilization overtaking nature. Conceptually, he understood it, but it was surprisingly uncomfortable to see first hand. ¡®Am I a closet tree-hugger?¡¯ he wondered. ¡°Walker, stop standing there like a slack-jawed idiot and get to work!¡± shouted Wesker. Giving one final look around, he saw the treeline was already being pushed back into the surrounding forest. Several trees were toppling over and he could hear people calling out warnings to the surrounding soldiers. Pulling out his axe from his personal space, Nero stepped up to the tree in front of him and stared at the tree trunk. Cocking his head to the side, he tested a simple ¡®air-knife¡¯ spell against the bark. He didn¡¯t put much center into the spell, as he wanted to see how much effort it would take to do any damage. The spell ¡®thunked¡¯ into the trunk, slightly shaking the entire tree. Some bark split, and he saw a small gash appear in the wood. ¡®Not bad,¡¯ he thought. Hefting his axe, he imbued some center into the axe-head and he took a solid swing at the tree-trunk, aiming for the same spot. He felt the axe slam into the trunk, causing bark to shatter and eject itself out of the contact point, his weapon burying itself into the tree. ¡®OK, yeah, that is actually way easier than using magic,¡¯ he thought. With his increased stats, his skill at wielding a weapon, and with the aid of his center-imbued axe, he went to work. In no time at all, he heard the tree-trunk ¡®crack¡¯ and he saw the top start to topple over. Not having given any thought as to where it might land, he immediately realized that he might have made a serious mistake. Seeing the tree start falling, he estimated where it was headed and turned to Nick and Rose, screaming, ¡°Timber! Get back!¡± His two team-mates looked up to see the descending tree, and neither of them hesitated for a second. Rose took off like a rabbit, while Nick calming waved his hand in the face of the falling monstrosity. Nero felt the essence shift and he saw the spell carve itself into existence in front of the older mage. A moment later, a large gust of wind caught the falling branches, pushing the tree away from its current path. After it slammed into the ground around 10 feet in front of him, Nick turned to Nero and said, ¡°Let me guess, you don¡¯t know how to cut down a tree either. Seriously, what did they actually teach you when you were in school? You can¡¯t cook. You¡¯ve never tracked anything. You don¡¯t know how to clean a kill. You don¡¯t know how to build anything. I understand that you didn¡¯t have magic there, and the culture was different, but come on. You don¡¯t even -¡± Nero interrupted the old man¡¯s rant. ¡°Shut up Nick. I grew up in a city. Why the hell would I need to learn any of that. I learned plenty of appropriate skills for my environment.¡± Nick stared at Nero, waiting for the young man to elaborate. Rose walked back over to them and asked, ¡°Like what?¡± Nero looked at the curious girl and replied, ¡°I was pretty good at a lot of stuff.¡± Nick, still holding his axe in one hand, crossed his arms and demanded, ¡°Give us an example that is relevant to the current world you¡¯re in now.¡± Nero thought about his uncanny ability to parallel park, his skill at finding people through Facebook connections, and his respectable rank in League of Legends. Not coming up with a good answer, he sarcastically replied, ¡°I specialized in psychological warfare.¡± Nick and Rose glanced at each other, and Nick replied, ¡°Yeah, that makes sense.¡± Rose nodded in agreement, not at all surprised. Nero¡¯s eyebrows rose in amazement at how easily they had believed him. ¡°Come here. I¡¯ll show you how to cut down a tree and have it fall where you want it to,¡± Nick said, waving Nero over. While Rose returned to what she¡¯d been doing, Nero took another step forward in his quest to become a functional member of Dorchester¡¯s military. Soon enough, he¡¯d learn how to build a wall, maybe a cabin, and if were lucky, someone might show him how to properly make a functioning outhouse. ¡®Good times,¡¯ thought Nero with a smile. Chapter 145 - That tree is lying. They were really there just like he said they would be,¡¯ thought Mage-adept Catherine Newbanks, impressed with the king¡¯s foresight. To be able to see what others missed, from so far away, was no small feat. Even with the aid of the local mage tower, no one in Dorchester was able to pierce the illusion the kobalds had put up. The army would be heading into combat blind, a fact which no one on the leadership council was happy about. However, that wasn¡¯t her concern. She had a job to do. Technically, two jobs. Three if her duties in service of the arch-mage were to be included. She was ostensibly acting as the local court mage, acting on behalf of Arch-mage Jennings. Her duty was to run the Mage Tower, oversee operations and streamline the communication flow toward the military and the council. She was also tasked with reviewing the conduct of the local mages, and maintaining day-to-day operations. As she has no local ties, she has no responsibility to aid in the coming conflict, but only to monitor and manage the local resources and information found through the efforts of Dorchester¡¯s citizenry. As the aide to the arch-mage, she is responsible for keeping him informed of local happenings, fulfilling his obligations to the local leadership council, and providing him with whatever he needs to do his work. As his current work is supposedly monitoring the local nobles to ensure their good behavior, she¡¯s essentially in charge of running the espionage arm of the local Tower of Magic. Yet her primary duty, the real reason she came to Dorchester in the first place, is her work for the royal family, the king himself. As she headed back to her office after drowning the arch-mage in data, she reviewed her current progress with the task list she had been given. The local religions have been fed the conflicting, and unverifiable rumors concerning both the Tower of Fate and the recently raised Lord Walker. The local mages have been pointed toward where their attention should have been all along, and the influence of the nobles has been expunged from the entirety of the tower. It hadn¡¯t been easy to dismiss, kill, or banish that many mages, but she¡¯d done it. Her most recent success was getting the local gossips to question the noble¡¯s competence and desire to actually protect the local citizenry. Having subtly pointed out the few noble houses that had run for the hills after the density shift had been discovered, and the attack on the one new noble who was currently fighting on the front lines, the job had practically done itself. Overall, it had been easier than she¡¯d thought it would be. It had only taken one dinner where she mentioned a few facts too loudly, and the local Thought-hub was already buzzing with questions. Arriving at her office, she closed the door behind her and smiled at how things were going. When she¡¯d spoken with the king, she wondered if things would actually turn out like he¡¯d predicted. But seeing how the past few days have gone, she no longer had any doubt. The arch-mage and the mage council was distracted with the Tower of Fate, and the kobalds were the primary concern of the local nobles. As long as she was careful, she should have no problem performing her duties, and steering things toward the desired path the king provided. ¡®Even though in the end it won¡¯t really matter, I still hope everyone will play their games as he predicted. Otherwise, things are going to get a little out of hand,¡¯ she thought to herself. ----- Nero watched as the walls sprung up around the camp. He tried to help where he could, but there wasn¡¯t really time to waste teaching him how to be a carpenter. Everyone was moving with purpose, doing their part to get their camp ready as soon as possible. Glancing to his left, he could see that even Rose was finding something productive to do. While straddling a log, she was using her axe to remove the bark and rough bumps that used to be branches. To Nero, she looked like she was on a rowing machine, stretching forward, then pulling back as long strips of bark curled up in front of her. There was a pile of those strips accumulating next to her, a testament to how much work she was getting done. On the other hand, Nero hadn¡¯t been doing very much of anything. He¡¯d been assigned strip a tree of its branches, and at first, he thought he was doing fine. After dragging the trunk over, he started ripping off the branches. Everything was going fine until he heard some sergeant¡¯s voice he didn¡¯t recognize shouting at him from 30ft away. After being berated for a few minutes, he was reassigned to post placement, and warned to stay away from the lumber. How was he supposed to know that he was supposed to ¡®cut¡¯ the branches off and not just rip them out of the trunk? The chunks he¡¯d taken out of the tree weren¡¯t that bad as far as he was concerned. He didn¡¯t last long with the post placement team either. All they were supposed to do was make round holes for the support pillars to go in. They said 5ft deep, and 3 ft wide. So that¡¯s what he did. If they didn¡¯t want him to use magic, then they should have said something. And the explosion wasn¡¯t that loud anyways. Did they expect him to actually DIG the damn holes? What¡¯s the point of having magic if he couldn¡¯t use it to avoid physical labor? Now, Nero was acting as a hauler, reduced to dragging trees back to the work areas while everyone else was provided the skilled labor. With a grimace, Nero hefted the base of a tree onto his shoulder and started heading back toward the center of the encampment. ¡®This is bullshit. Why don¡¯t they have spells for this. There has to be a way to just pull up rock from the ground and manifest a castle or something,¡¯ he thought. At the edge of his perception range, he felt something catch his attention. Pausing, he turned his head to look back over his shoulder into the forest, his eyes narrowing in with suspicion. Something wasn¡¯t right. Looking back toward the camp, he saw Nick waving his hands around, probably giving a lecture to some poor bastard on the history of this particular configuration of wooden walls. Reaching out, he tried to connect with the man. Feeling the connection stabilize, they looked in each other¡¯s direction, too far to really meet each other¡¯s eyes. Before Nick could say anything, Nero¡¯s voice was full of urgency, ¡°Nick, tell someone in charge that there is something in the forest watching us. I can¡¯t see what it is, but it¡¯s like a fake essence signature like that illusion mage used when we were ambushed. It¡¯s not exactly that, but it¡¯s like that. I can¡¯t explain it any better, but part of the forest behind me isn¡¯t really forest.¡± Even while Nero was rambling, Nick was quick-stepping toward a group of sergeants who were squatting over some contruction plans which had been laid out on the ground. Nero watched as they all looked up to listen to what Nick had to say. It was too far to hear what they were saying, but even at this distance he could see Nick pointing off in his direction and animatedly passing on his message. Unauthorized reproduction: this story has been taken without approval. Report sightings. From the looks of it, the sergeants didn¡¯t seem very interested in what Nick had to say. So, it wasn¡¯t surprising when they all stood up in unison and glared in Nero¡¯s direction. One of them took a step forward and waved Nero over with an angry arm pointing at the dirt directly in front of him. The bastard looked like a soccer mom demanding her kid get his ass in the car. Sighing, Nero dropped the tree he was still propping up on his shoulder, and mentally took one last look at the lying section of the forest behind him. ¡®Yep, it looks like someone is holding up a big painting of a forest. This is like this world¡¯s version of using a photograph to fool a security camera,¡¯ he thought. Forcing himself to not look back with his eyes, he jogged toward the group of sergeants, trying to make it seem like he wasn¡¯t in too much of a hurry. But, he couldn¡¯t stop his heart from beating in his chest like a bass drum. If whatever was out there wasn¡¯t hostile, it probably wouldn¡¯t be hiding. Unless it was some weird fantasy beast that was both curious and completely stupid¡­ he¡¯d seen that trope enough times not to discount it. Arriving in front of the sergeants, Nero was greeted with harsh stares and dismissive attitudes. Some sergeant he didn¡¯t know said, ¡°What¡¯s this about you seeing something in the forest that isn¡¯t forest?¡± His tone was subdued, trying not to be insulting while simultaneously letting Nero know that he didn¡¯t believe a word of what he was hearing. Nero looked up at the tall man and replied, ¡°It¡¯s like this, I¡¯m good at seeing stuff with my essence field. And I can see pretty far with it. In fact, I¡¯m getting better with it every day. And what I saw isn¡¯t forest. At first glance, it looks like every other part of the forest, but it¡¯s just a false image.¡± Cocking his head to the side, the sergeant replied, ¡°So, you identified an illusion?¡± Nero didn¡¯t want to say it, but he did anyway, ¡°Not really. I¡¯ve seen an illusion before, and this isn¡¯t it. I don¡¯t know what I¡¯m seeing. I haven¡¯t come across it before. All I can tell you is that something is out there, and it¡¯s hiding behind a picture of the forest showing an image of that exact area without them in it.¡± The sergeant turned away to share a glance with all the other men who¡¯d been looking over the construction plans with him. Each of their eyes made their disbelief as clear as day. Nero could even feel their individual skepticism in the ether building off each one anothers in some kind of weird group-think. ¡®Man, are people really this dumb? Just because one person doesn¡¯t believe something, does everyone else have to feel justified in their doubts? OK, stupid question, trying to convince a group of naysayers is just as impossible here as it was back home,¡¯ he told himself. Nero looked around for options, ignoring whatever the idiot in front of him was saying. It was a skill he¡¯d learned under a particularly useless manager he had when was working retail in a mall when he was in high school. He¡¯s had years of practice at it, and if it were a skill, it would probably be master-level. Across the way, he could see Specialist Howard standing next to Captain Angelton. They were doing something at the communications tower which was currently being assembled much faster than the walls. Turning back to the useless sergeant, Nero interrupted the man, ¡°Excuse me, I¡¯m going to go over there now.¡± Walking off, Nero ignored Nick¡¯s voice which was currently wasting it¡¯s breathe apologizing for him. Suppressing a chuckle at his friend¡¯s attempts to politic with the critics, he jogged over to the two people who might actually listen to what he had to say. ¡°Hey cap, Howie, we got a problem,¡± he said loudly, causing both men to turn and look over their shoulder. Arriving in front of them, Nero was about to speak when he heard Specialist Howard demand, ¡°Don¡¯t call me that!¡± His voice completely devoid of humor. Nero held up his hands and said, ¡°Sure thing boss. But let¡¯s put a pin in that for now. I was near the tree-line when I saw something through my essence field that you need to know about.¡± While Captain Angelton maintained his blank stare, Specialist Howard corrected Nero, ¡°You mean you perception field.¡± Confused, Nero turned to look up at the war-mage and replied, ¡°Yeah, sure, whatever. Listen, there is something in the forest over there that is watching us. It¡¯s covering a pretty good chunk of space and it¡¯s hiding in a way I don¡¯t really understand. It¡¯s like an illusion, but it¡¯s not. It looks like forest, but it¡¯s not. I know that sounds bat-shit crazy, but it is what it is.¡± Captain Angelton turned his head to look at Specialist Howard, and he raised one eyebrow as if he were waiting for the man¡¯s opinion. In response, Nero watched the war-mage¡¯s eyes go glassy and just stare off into the distance. Seconds later, the man frowned and shook his head. ¡°I don¡¯t see anything out of the ordinary,¡± he said. Captain Angelton still didn¡¯t speak, he just turned back to Nero and looked down at him from his massive height, waiting for what Nero had to say in response to Specialist Howard¡¯s findings. Nero didn¡¯t want to argue, as he kind of respected them both. However, he knew he was right. ¡°I get it. I¡¯m just some fresh recruit that is only here because of some weird political crap that¡¯s been shelved on account of an actual war with the lizard people. You¡¯ve got more important things to do than to listen to what I have to say. But look at me when I¡¯m telling you¡­ There is something there. I don¡¯t know how I can see that the forest is wrong, but I can. Can either of you think of a technique, spell, skill, or ability that can hide someone like that?¡± asked Nero, doing everything he can to will them to believe what he was telling them. The two old soldiers turned to look at each other, having a full conversation with their eyes. ¡®Maybe they¡¯re actually talking to each other? Nick and I can do it, so it wouldn¡¯t surprise me,¡¯ thought Nero. ¡°It can¡¯t hurt to check it out,¡± Specialist Howard said, breaking the silence. Nodding once in agreement, Captain Angelton raised his head and looked out into the camp. Turning around, Nero saw several people perk up and look over at them. It was like seeing a bunch of cats hearing a tuna can open. After a few seconds, they all started moving at the same time. Like a basketball team heading for their coach at a time-out, they converged together and stared at their sergeant who was looking particularly annoyed. ¡°Where exactly did you see this¡­ false forest?¡± asked the Captain, speaking for the first time. His voice was calm, seemingly not having an opinion one way or another on whether or not Nero was correct in his conclusion. Nero took a step to the side, but didn¡¯t point. He just faced toward where he¡¯d left the tree he¡¯d been carrying and said, ¡°You see that tree laying in the middle of the cleared area? It¡¯s about 30 yards past that and a little to the left.¡± Nero didn¡¯t see it, but the use of the word ¡®yard¡¯ caused both the war-mage and the captain to look over at him with surprise. The meaning of the word came across, so they understood what he was saying, but it was still one of the few words Nero¡¯s lexicon that didn¡¯t have a direct translation to something they were used to hearing. While Nero always spoke English, if they weren¡¯t paying attention, they didn¡¯t really notice. Although his word choice was always a little odd, they just chalked it up to him being a foreigner. However, when he said something that didn¡¯t exactly translate, his odd language became apparent. In particular, Captain Angelton chided himself for not realizing that Nero had never been speaking the local language, or any language he¡¯d ever heard. People using different languages wasn¡¯t particularly uncommon, so most people don¡¯t bother to pay attention to what words are being used. But the captain was still not happy that he had missed it. In a way, it was central piece of the puzzle that made up this strange young man. One he should have noticed immediately, back when he¡¯d first found him in the middle of a caravan massacre on a road outside Dorchester¡¯s walls. Nero didn¡¯t know what was going through their heads, so he just stared out into the tree-line, trying to reach out to see if he could perceive anything at this distance. Unfortunately, it was just too far. Rather than head directly there, the team that had been assembled sprinted off into the forest perpendicular to the area Nero had indicated was suspect. Confused for a second, Nero didn¡¯t understand what they were doing. ¡®Oh, duh. It¡¯s not like they¡¯ll run right at whoever is out there. Think, man! This is no time to be an idiot, shit¡¯s about to go down,¡¯ he chided himself. Chapter 146 - Other peoples problems. Seeing as Specialist Howard was not in a particularly good mood, the last thing he felt like doing was building a communications tower. As far as he was concerned, maintaining communications with command wasn¡¯t exactly a priority at the moment. So, instead of being a good soldier and helping, he was making himself useful by taking out his frustrations on the tree in front of him. With his face set in a grim snarl, he mercilessly swung his infused axe into the trunk, over and over again. All too soon, the tree started falling and he was forced to take a step back. Glancing up at the tipping tree, he saw that it was falling a little off his intended target. With a wave of his hand, he cast a quick ¡®gust¡¯ spell and pushed it back where he wanted it. A flex of his mental muscles pulled his axe back into his personal space, and he stomped over to the base of the fallen tree. Reaching down, he lifted the tree trunk to his shoulder, and started dragging it back toward the burgeoning encampment. As he passed the tree-stumps of his former stress relievers, his thoughts returned to the conversation he¡¯d had with Gate 22¡¯s army commander, the man currently directing their forces at the mountain gate. Commander Gallegos looked up from the report he¡¯d been reading and said, ¡°Look specialist, I¡¯ve already got 5 war-mages on-site. It¡¯s not that I don¡¯t think you¡¯d be an asset, it¡¯s just that I don¡¯t need you at the moment. It¡¯s not worth filing the paperwork until I have a place to assign you.¡± With his fists clenched in anger, Howard replied, ¡°And when will that be? I¡¯m just wasting my time with the elites at the moment, any surveillance or field mage could fill in for me. It¡¯s a waste of my skills to leave me where I am.¡± The commander leaned back in his chair with a sigh, the stress of the situation getting to him. The man clearly hated dealing with specialists, his prejudice clearly showing on his face. Howard could see that the man¡¯s restraint was beginning to fail. ¡°I¡¯m only going to say this one more time¡­ I don¡¯t need you at the moment. For now, stay with whatever assignment you¡¯ve been given, and when the time comes, I¡¯ll put you where I need you. Is it that difficult for you to just follow orders?¡± he said, his voice filled with poorly contained scorn. Howard could feel the commander¡¯s anger coming off him in waves, and he had to force himself to stay calm. His thoughts were broken by a connection request being carried through the ether. Absently tracing the essence signature, he looked into the distance to see Captain Angelton frowning in his direction. With a huff of annoyance, he reached out to firm up the connection and asked, ¡°What?¡± The captain replied, ¡°Stop wasting time with the trees. I need you over here on construction.¡± The connection snapped, causing Howard to tilt his head back as if his forehead had been flicked¡­ hard. Grumbling, he continued dragging his felled tree. He¡¯d drop it off before heading over to the captain. Without meaning to, he once again thought back to his conversation with Commander Gallegos. It just didn¡¯t make any sense. There were countless ways the war could benefit from his presence on the battlefield. He was a skilled war-mage whose entire job was dealing with situations exactly like this. Leaving him out here with these fresh recruits, monitoring holes in the ground, was an insult. After dropping off the tree at the processing pile, he glanced over to see several elites stripping the branches and bark of the trunks. The pile of scraps was already nearly taller than he was. ¡®At least they¡¯re good for something,¡¯ he thought. Taking his time, he eventually made his way over to the captain. Not saying anything, he just stood next to the man, waiting for him to acknowledge his presence. Several awkward seconds passed before Captain Angelton finally deigned to speak to him. ¡°I understand how you feel. I¡¯m in a similar situation, many of us are. Don¡¯t you find it odd that you and I are both still here, watching over a fresh crop of elites? We have decades of experience between us, our skills would be put to much better use on the front lines.¡± Specialist Howard¡¯s brow furrowed in thought. That was a good point. The captain really shouldn¡¯t still be here either. There were thousands of better choices to lead a simple observation camp. With fresh eyes, he looked around the growing encampment. Most of the sergeants here were veterans, each with years of actual experience in combat, every one of them with the levels to prove it. Why were any of them here? While training a new crop of elites was important, and it made sense when there was just the density shift to deal with, the war should have changed the army¡¯s priorities. The moment they¡¯d been called back, they should have been reassigned to combat units. So why hadn¡¯t that happened? Looking over at Captain Angelton, Howard asked, ¡°You¡¯re right. It is odd. You suspect some stupid noble plot or something? Or do you think they could have just forgotten about us?¡± Captain Angelton¡¯s face was carved from stone, even his essence field was completely calm. Howard couldn¡¯t tell what the man was thinking. The captain said, ¡°I think there is something we¡¯re missing. I don¡¯t believe for a second that the general didn¡¯t put us here for a reason. That¡¯s what I don¡¯t understand. If we¡¯d been put here because he expects combat, then why are the recruits with us? But if not, then why gather Dorchester¡¯s best and keep them away from the war?¡± Howard didn¡¯t know what to say, strategic thinking wasn¡¯t exactly his strong suit, and he knew it. Continuing on, the captain said, ¡°The only conclusion I can make, is that we¡¯re here for a strategic purpose, and that we¡¯ll just have to wait and see what that purpose is. Until then, I plan to fortify our position, do my job, and keep my eyes open.¡± Turning to look at Specialist Howard, he added, ¡°And I expect you to do the same.¡± Their conversation was interrupted when they heard a young voice call out, ¡°Hey cap, Howie, we got a problem.¡± Looking over their shoulders, they saw little Lord Walker jogging up to them with a grim look on his face. ----- Figuring that if he wanted to see anything, he¡¯d have to be much closer, Nero said to the two men, ¡°Let¡¯s all walk over to where I left my tree, and we can watch what happens.¡± Not waiting for an reply, he left the two men behind and started walking. Feeling them immediately catch up, he heard Captain Angelton¡¯s commanding voice say, ¡°Keep your expressions light, and don¡¯t let on that you suspect anything. If something is really out there, and they aren¡¯t currently listening to what we¡¯re saying, then there is no need to alert them to our suspicions.¡± You could be reading stolen content. Head to the original site for the genuine story. Nero nodded, but still grimaced at the implication that whoever, or whatever, was out there could have heard his warning. ¡®I should have thought of that. They may not have directional mikes or spy equipment, but there are probably hundreds of ways for them to listen in on conversations from a distance,¡¯ he told himself. Looking up to his left, he asked the captain, ¡°You think it could be people, or maybe kobalds? Why would they try and get this close, couldn¡¯t they just scry on us or something? I don¡¯t really get how warfare works here.¡± Sergeant Howard was the one to answer, ¡°The density shift makes scrying outside the walls a pain in the ass. You can do it, if you¡¯re good, but it¡¯s not easy. Even my range is pretty weak out here at the moment.¡± Confused, Nero thought back to his limited experience with scrying. He hadn¡¯t had a problem with it, had he? ¡°How exactly does the density shift affect scrying?¡± asked Nero. Specialist Howard replied, ¡°It¡¯s a matter of inconsistent ether density. Think of the ethereal plane as an ocean, but with pockets of inconsistent fluids. Normally, the ether is uniformly distributed, sectioned off by whatever environment is projected into the material plane. The area¡¯s identity is like a giant essence field, spread out and slowly influencing the reality that we see and interact with. But density shifts are like waves of new water coming into a lake, shaking everything up. The flow can get tangled up into knots, and that¡¯s where all the essence events come in. But when it comes to scrying, it makes following an essence flow really annoying. The farther away you try and look, the more difficult it is to get a clear picture. Unless you¡¯re looking at something within your perception field, it gets really difficult. And if you¡¯re close enough to use your perception field, it¡¯s not really scrying. Make sense?¡± Nero¡¯s mind worked though what the man had said, and replied, ¡°I guess. You¡¯re kinda mixing your metaphors though. It¡¯s not like you get knots in the ocean.¡± Captain Angelton interjected, ¡°How about sand banks under the water. Think of spawners, condensation points, planar events, all of them could be considered as different types of underwater events that affect the consistent flow of water into and out of the area. Although dungeons are different, they smooth out the surrounding flows, allowing the density to shift at a much smoother pace. They act as pressure regulators, if you will. But instead of pressure, or water, they stabalize large scale identities.¡± Surprisingly, that made sense to Nero. In fact, that was the clearest explanation he¡¯d heard so far. ¡®What an elegant and comprehensive explanation. He should give Nick lessons on how to impart information in short, descriptive, and useful chunks,¡¯ he thought to himself. Specialist Howard ruined Nero¡¯s moment by saying, ¡°It¡¯s not really like that in reality. There is a lot more to it, but the analogy is good for explaining the density shift to uneducated people... and children.¡± Frowning, Nero remembered why he had almost killed himself trying to stab the war-mage in the gut during training. The guy was kind of an asshole. The conversation had eaten up enough time, and they¡¯d made it to the place where he¡¯d dropped his tree. Being careful not to stare, he sent out his psychic presence to take another look at the weird part of the forest that wasn¡¯t forest. ¡°It¡¯s still there,¡± he said. The two men stood next to Nero, all three of them looking down at the tree as if it were the most interesting thing in the world. Each of them pretending that it was the reason they¡¯d been called over. ¡°I¡¯m looking, but I still don¡¯t see anything. You sure you¡¯re perception field has reached the potency threshold for visualization?" asked Specialist Howard, his voice tinged with skepticism. Nero snorted, and replied, ¡°Yeah, however you want to call it, I can see with my field just fine. In fact, in many ways I can see better with my field than I can with my eyes. The flows are moving through the area, but they look weird the moment they cross some kind of invisible barrier.¡± His voice full of interest, the captain asked, ¡°I remember when you told me your thoughts before the noble war. You saw what others didn¡¯t then, and I don¡¯t doubt that you might be seeing things that we¡¯re missing now. This very well could be another case of you just not having the requisite background information to understand what you¡¯re looking at. So how about you describe exactly what you¡¯re seeing, and let us try and figure out what it is.¡± Appreciating the trust, Nero¡¯s eyes glassed over as he focused on his other senses. ¡°I¡¯m not really sure how to say this, so I¡¯m just going to start talking, and hopefully it makes sense to you.¡± Both Howard and Angelton shared a look, each curious as to what the odd young man was seeing, and simultaneously deciding to take him at his word. ¡°Normally, an area is full of thousands of little streams of essence crisscrossing all over the ether. However, there are some things that affect the flows. People¡¯s essence fields dim the flows, making them thin and hard to see. If I stare too hard, all I can see is the person¡¯s essence field, and not the flows. It¡¯s like a big empty bubble. Monsters, beasts, anything with a mind seems to work the same way. But other things, like spawn-points and stuff like that, they bend the flows, making them distort a little. If there is a connection to another plane, I think I can see the feedback from whatever is happening on the other side of the corridor. Usually, I can get an idea of what I¡¯m looking at by context clues, but this forest thing, it just doesn¡¯t make sense to me.¡± Nero wasn¡¯t looking, but both Howard and Angelton¡¯s eyes were wide with shock. For most people, that just wasn¡¯t how it worked. Even people skilled in perception tended to only perceive the material plane around them. Seeing into the ether was usually confined to feelings, and interpretations. It was like trying to get a picture of what was happening by listening to how the sound bounced off the objects in a room. It took a lifetime to master. The idea that someone could actually SEE the essence flowing through the ether was incredible, and a more than a little improbable. Nero kept talking, oblivious to their doubts, ¡°When I look at that area of the forest, I see the essence flowing, moving through the area just like everywhere else. But in that one big area, the essence snaps into place, no longer being affected by anything around it. It¡¯s like a moving picture, relaying the idea that everything is like the rest of the forest. Yeah, that¡¯s a good way to put it. It¡¯s like a mirage, or a reflection of what the forest should look like. I can see it at the edges, they¡¯re wavy, and don¡¯t line up right. I think if I¡­.¡± Both men watched as Nero spoke his thoughts out loud, seemingly talking to himself, having forgotten that they were listening. As he trailed off, they saw the blood drain from his face. Nero¡¯s attempts to probe the area had proven more fruitful than he¡¯d hoped. By examining the edge, he¡¯d been able to slip in behind the false projection, and see what was happening on the other side. ¡°There must be over a hundred kobalds in there,¡± he hissed, keeping his voice low. Both the captain and specialist straightened up in surprise, exchanging grim looks with each other. Nero, his eyes still unfocused, kept talking, ¡°Cap, you need to call back your scouts. They¡¯re going to get themselves killed if they go in there.¡± While Nero narrated what he was seeing, Captain Angelton sent out a connection request to the team he¡¯d sent out to examine the area. Trusting Nero for the moment, or possibly just fearing that the young man could be right, he called them back. He ordered them to carefully return, and bring back some more trees so it looked like they were sent out for more lumber. ¡°Most of them are the little kobalds, like four feet tall at most. There are a couple big ones though, maybe six or seven feet? I can¡¯t tell. And there are two robed guys that look like magic users. Also there¡¯s a group of bare-chested bastards that are wearing headdresses and covered in bone-jewelry. Their staffs are glowing, and they are all staying together in the middle. It looks like the big guys are trying to herd the little dudes into lines, maybe preparing for an assault? Wait, there¡¯s a kobald that is all hazy, the staff guys are surrounding him. Uh oh¡­ I think he sensed me looking at him,¡± Nero said, his eyes returning to normal after he immediately pulled back his psychic probe. Specialist Howard had been splitting his attention between listening to Nero, sharing glances with Angelton, and using his perception field to see monitor the area and see if he could notice anything. The moment Nero stopped talking, he saw the mirage fall, and a large area of the forest revealed itself as an illusion. ¡°Oh, shit!¡± he cursed, then sent up a spell flare into the sky, and sounding the alarm. A pulse of essence shot through the ether, causing most of the recruits to snap to attention. Anyone who¡¯d served in the military recognized the signal, and aside from a few people like Rose and Nick, they all dropped what they were doing and armed themselves. The kobalds, almost as one, started screaming. To Nero, it sounded like an unholy mix between a goat¡¯s bleat and a hissing snake. As a group they started running through the forest, their auditory assault loud enough to shake the ground. Nero turned around, shocked at how quickly everything had gone to shit. His eyes were drawn to the sky, as numerous arrows, spears, and blobs of colors were launched into the air, all heading for encampment. An encampment which was currently without walls or defenses, filled with mostly recruits and hunters who were primarily used to fighting monsters and beasts. Frozen, Nero stood there in a daze. He could feel Captain Angelton moving around behind him, shouting orders in a voice loud enough to make his ears hurt. And to his right, he felt Specialist Howard begin to cast something, but he couldn¡¯t tear his eyes away from the incoming rain of death bearing down on him from above. ¡®I told those fuckers that there was something out there,¡¯ he thought lamely. ¡®If I die because of this, somebody better rez me.¡¯ Chapter 147 - Poorly controlled chaos. Nicholas Salvatore-Verena had never considered himself much of a physical person. He¡¯d always preferred to handle things at a distance. Even when performing experiments, he disliked having to do any sort of field-work. He was also well aware that this preference was a direct result of his upbringing, but he never really cared enough to address the short-coming. It wasn¡¯t as if he couldn¡¯t do physical labor, or that he thought it was somehow beneath him, or any other such nonsense. He just didn¡¯t like it, and he was fine with that. Despite all that, he was delightfully surprised to find that he was truly enjoying building the wall. Even cutting down trees wasn¡¯t as bad as he¡¯d remembered it being. Perhaps he¡¯d grown as a person in the last 50 years. Stretching his arms up high, he helped his fellow elites guide the large log into place. He looked over to see the man on his right cast a simple spell to temporarily fuse the joint, securing the log to the support post. Stepping back, he placed his hands on his hips with a smile, a proud look on his face. While some of the others started hammering in the large wooden dowels to finish the section off, he made his way over to the lumber pile to help bring over the wood for the next section. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw Nero off in the distance, dragging another freshly felled tree back from the edge of the forest. He felt his smile die on his face. It really was a shame. The young man had so many talents, but they were all so random. How could he seem so world-wise, yet so unbearably ignorant at the same time. Wherever he came from must have been completely different and undoubtedly savage. Seriously, how could Nero have gone through his entire life never having learned how to chop down a tree? That¡¯s something children learn on their first school camping trip. Turning away from the rather pathetic sight of his friend, he returned to what he was doing. Nodding to the woman next to him, together they hefted the large log to their shoulders in tandem. Following along, he stared at her back while mentally recalling the numerous jobs Nero had failed at since arriving an hour ago. The poor guy couldn¡¯t even remove a tree-stump. Although it was a particularly good explosion when he¡¯d tried. Letting his mind wander, he thought of his wife, and what she might be up to at the moment. Reaching out to his link, he checked to see if Dorchester¡¯s Thought-hub was contactable at the moment. ¡®Nope. We must currently be under an oscillatory essence wave. We¡¯re not even that far away, and the density shift is already causing problems. Maybe I can convince the captain to have someone deliver a wave analyzer with the next supply drop. Either way, it¡¯s too bad I can¡¯t ping Vera,¡¯ he thought to himself. Thinking back to how she¡¯d been when he¡¯d seen her after the fiasco at the Hall of Leadership, he couldn¡¯t help but smile. It was nice that she was enjoying being a noble again. He had always known he¡¯d have to return to the nobility, but he¡¯d hoped he would have had a few more years before it became an issue. It wasn¡¯t like he was aware of how much Vera had missed all the intrigue and danger. ¡®Well, at least she¡¯s happy now,¡¯ he thought. After helping place another support post, he turned around to go help bring over another log. Glancing at the rising communications tower in the center of the camp, he saw Nero standing by the captain and that war-mage, Specialist Howard. ¡®That man is really over-qualified for his position. Despite being terrible at theoretical work, his practical magic is surprisingly good. I wonder who he pissed off to get this assignment?¡¯ he thought to himself. While he waited for one of the supervising sergeants to finish trimming the logs to the required lengths for the next section of the wall, he frowned at the sight of Nero leading Captain Angelton and Specialist Howard back toward the tree-line. ¡®What is he up to now?¡¯ he wondered. His curiosity was interrupted by a light slap to his arm. Turning around, he saw the woman he¡¯d been working with gesture for him to pick up his end. Nodding, he joined her in hefting the freshly cut log onto their shoulders. As they made their way back toward the slowly assembling wall, this time with him in the front, he ran his eyes across the progress they¡¯d made. It really did feel good to build something with his own two hands. Magic would remain his first love, but he had to admit that reality had a charm of it¡¯s own. ¡®Maybe I should spend some time working on enchanting, combining reality and magic to create something new and unique,¡¯ he mused. Feeling a large pulse of essence slam into his essence field, he almost dropped the log. When the woman behind him let her end go, he almost tipped over. Releasing his grip, he let the log finally fall. Turning around with a confused look on his face, he mumbled, ¡°What¡¯s going on?¡± He had a vaguely remembered reading that an essence pulse like that was supposed to mean something. Seeing the woman behind him already running off back toward the center of the camp, he looked around to see everyone else following suit. He stood for a second, a little confused, and raised one eyebrow in surprise. Figuring that they all probably had a good reason, he followed along like a good soldier. After only a few steps, he heard the forest cry out, the horrific sound setting his teeth on edge and giving him goosebumps. Feeling a primal fear rise up in his belly, he picked up his pace. Letting his perception field expand, he tried to get an idea of what was happening. Unfortunately, whatever was going on was too far away for him to get a read, and he had to be content with the fact that he was currently running in the opposite direction. Seeing that everyone who¡¯d made it near the backpacks and supplies was already gearing up for a fight, the realization of what was happening hit him like a bolt of lightning. ¡®Of course it¡¯s an alarm you idiot! You¡¯re in an army encampment, did you think you were being called in because it¡¯s time for lunch?¡¯ he scolded himself. Looking over his shoulder to see if he could see anything with his eyes, he felt his blood run cold as arrows and spells were launched into the air. ¡®Well, that rules out a monster or spontaneous beast wave. Best guess, it¡¯s either kobalds or more nobles trying to kill Nero,¡¯ he thought, unable to turn off his analytical brain. ----- It was only a few seconds ago that everything had gone to hell, and as a novice in the arena of war it was understandable that Nero¡¯s brain was misfiring. A veritable horde of kobalds burst through the treeline. Even from around 50 ft away, their war-cries were loud enough to drown out the sound of Specialist Howard ordering him to retreat. Or perhaps it was the sight of hundreds of arrows and spells falling from the sky that had frozen him in place, too stunned to do anything of use. At least the landscape was working to his advantage, as the kobalds were forced to run up the rocky soil interspersed with loose dirt from where the elites had dug out tree trunks. The slope wasn¡¯t terrible, as the relatively flat terrain was the reason they were setting up an encampment here in the first place. Yet, it was enough to give Nero time to get his head in order. Luckily, Nero¡¯s limited experience kicked in, and he applied his tried and true method of dealing with incoming threats. Like it was instinct, he brought out his shield from his personal space, setting the bottom against the ground in front of him and ducking his entire body behind it. ¡®The Wall 2.0¡¯ was deployed before Nero realized what had happened. Hidden behind the 4ft tower shield, his brain started working again, and the first thought through it was the memory of an arrow clipping his lower leg in this exact situation during his fight with the assassins in the wilds. Grimacing at the memory, he pulled his extremities in and tried to come up with a plan. The situation was not ideal, and he couldn¡¯t stop staring at the felled tree which he¡¯d been carrying when all of this had started. The damn thing was sitting right next to him, slightly vibrating in the face of all the noise going on around him. Shaking his head at the distracting thought, he focused on what was about to happen. His adrenaline pumping, his mind worked fast to come up with a course of action. The kobalds had realized their illusion had been seen through, and were now charging in early. Their ground forces were being preceded by a volley of arrows and giant balls of light which were probably spells, and not simply flares... considering the sun was still up. He hadn¡¯t gotten a good look at where the volley would land, but one thing for sure was that he was currently the closest elite at the moment. While he was trying to figure out what to do, the sound of the kobald¡¯s charge was drowned out by an explosion large enough to shake the ground under his feet. But the sensation was didn¡¯t feel right, there was no rattling of his bones, or fire coating the ground around him. As he was still staring at the felled tree, he could see that it was perfectly fine, as if whatever happened had no effect on it at all. This novel''s true home is a different platform. Support the author by finding it there. Confused, he peeked his head over the top of ¡®The Wall 2.0¡¯ to see what was happening. His jaw dropped at the sight of a 20ft wide curved barrier glowing in front of his position. Its light blue hue gently distorting the sight of the kobalds rapidly closing in. Seeing the magical shield prompted him him to instinctively let his essence field out so his mental probe could give him a better idea as to what he what he was looking at. The rush of information let him know that Specialist Howard was standing tall, just to his left. The man¡¯s legs were locked in a horse stance and he held his hands up, palms forward, like a boss. Nero could see Howard¡¯s face set in a feral grin, ready to unleash hell onto the enemy. At the edge of his range, he could also feel the other elites already assembling into battle teams in the middle of the camp, each group under magical shields being pelted by arrows and exploding fireballs. The realization that he and Specialist Howard were totally out of position hammered him in the face like a 3rd grade teacher in the middle ages smacking him with the dumb-stick. It had all happened in just 10 seconds, but his brain had finally caught up and his confidence that he could handle the situation was beginning to return. It was like his essence field was providing real-time understanding of what was going on around him, and he kicked himself for having pulled it back when he¡¯d been caught peeping on the kobalds under their nifty illusion. From behind him, he heard Specialist Howard¡¯s steady voice, tinged with annoyance, say, ¡°There are a lot more than a hundred out there, Walker!¡± Nero stood up, pulled out his blade and switched out the wall for one of his smaller bucklers. Turning to face the man, he retorted quickly, ¡°I didn¡¯t exactly have time to count them, I just meant there were a lot. Are we really just going to stand here and wait for them?¡± Right as Nero said that, he felt Specialist Howard complete another spell. The area in front of the shield lit up with a small ball of light, its green and red roiling flames quickly growing bigger. ¡°Don¡¯t talk. Just run,¡± said the man, than followed his own advice and took off back toward the assembling defensive line while a small blue shield floated above his shoulders and upper back. Nero took one last look at the kobalds. They were still charging in without fear, their little legs pumping in excitement. They were now close enough for him to see actual froth accumulating around their snouts while their faces were being lit up by the spell growing 5 ft away from him. Deciding that running was probably not a bad idea, Nero turned around and took off as fast as he could. Howard¡¯s shield, and whatever spell that looked like it was about to go off, would hopefully slow them down enough to give him a head start. Although, he needn¡¯t have worried, despite being incredibly agile, kobalds didn¡¯t have a very impressive top-speed. As he ran, his hands held tight to his sword and shield, while his mind began the process of activating his mage-armor. He¡¯d practiced the technique enough that it didn¡¯t even make him stumble, part of his consciousness smoothly isolating itself to maintain the armor¡¯s identity. Almost as soon as he started running, he felt an arrow slam into his upper back. The force was completely blunted by his shield, but it still felt like a gong ringing in his head. Gritting his teeth, he kept running, but put a little more focus on maintaining his mage-armor. He could see that Howard had already closed the distance to the rest of the elites and the small bubbles of shields were already collapsing into a line, the elites behind them readying to face the charge. Behind each group, one or two people were returning fire at the kobalds with spears, arrows, and the occasional spell. Their firing arc was sending the attacks high into the air to make it over the defensive shields. Nero covered the approximately 100ft between him and the rest of the elites faster than he¡¯d thought possible, his adrenaline and fear urging him to wring out whatever he could from his ¡®body¡¯ stats. In a way, he was lucky that the forest¡¯s tree-density around here was so low, it had prompted them to clear a rather large amount of area, and forced the kobalds to begin their charge from a much greater distance than if they¡¯d been attacked at their old encampment. Of course, Nero hadn¡¯t actually ever spent any time at that encampment, so the thought didn¡¯t occur to him. Squeezing in between the collapsing shields, Nero stuttered to a halt and looked around to see where he could be of use. What caught Nero¡¯s attention first, was that the shields weren¡¯t actually spells, or at least not ¡®just¡¯ spells. Every 5 man team had a sergeant holding a shield that was projecting the magical half-bubble in front of them. But some of the teams had up to 8 people using the shields as cover. Even though the situation was dire, he couldn¡¯t help but take a quick count and try and figure out how many people were actually part of their little war camp. ¡®I should have really taken a headcount before we left Dorchester,¡¯ he thought to himself. Figuring that it would be easiest to just start by counting the shields, his eyes swept along the line until he saw his team near one of the flanks, preparing for battle. Running over, he finished his count by taking advantage of his perception field. There were 10 shields, so he figured between maybe 60 or 70 troops. Stuttering to a stop next to Nick, he saw Rose and Cathleen standing a few feet away shooting arrows and launching spears up into the air like rapid-fire turrets. ¡®Where the hell do they store all that crap? Cathleen might have a personal space filled with spears, but Rose¡¯s quiver just never seems to run out,¡¯ he thought to himself. ¡°Nero, what in the hells were you doing standing out there!?! Did you plan to fight the entire kobald charge all on your own?¡± shouted Nick, causing Nero¡¯s head to snap toward the man in surprise. Nero cringed at the rebuke, but changed the subject to something he actually wanted to talk about. ¡°I thought there were only 20 recruits including us. Even with the team-leaders, aren¡¯t there too many people here?¡± he asked. As the sounds of combat were all around them, the crisp snap of bowstrings, grunts from the spear-throwers, and cracks of kobald arrows breaking themselves against the shields, Nick stared at Nero in total shock. ¡°What are you talking about? We¡¯re in the middle of a battle! Focus on the enemy Nero!¡± he shouted. Nero shrugged awkwardly, his adrenaline making him a little jumpy, while the multiple things he was paying attention to was causing him to suffer from distractions. Turning to face the charging kobalds, he tried to force his thoughts back onto the what he needed to do to prepare for combat. ¡®Don¡¯t let your mind wander. You don¡¯t want to die to midget lizards¡­ that¡¯s not how you get into Valhalla,¡¯ he told himself. Seconds passed as Nero watched the little kobalds climb up the hill, running over each other when they slipped on the loose ground during what, to them, was a break-neck charge. He laughed a little when he saw that the spell Howard had cast was still up and running. It had turned into a giant ball of green fire which was occasionally launching red streaks of flame in random directions. There must have been 10 or 20 kobald corpses currently acting like mini-bonfires all around it. Nero jumped when he heard Captain Angelton¡¯s loud voice ring out over the battlefield, ¡°POST!¡± As one, all the shield-bearers raised their shields at the same time, tilting them up into the air and allowing the bottom to rise up so the rest of the soldiers could meet the charge while still being under cover. Sergeant Wesker shouted, ¡°Walker get up here, you and Averrett are the line with me.¡± Taking out another shield, Wesker left the one providing their overhead cover just floating in the air. Nero could see the shield anchoring itself in the ether. Perhaps it was an enchantment holding it place? Forcing his attention away from the interesting magical phenomenon, Nero rushed up next to the sergeant and readied his own buckler to face the charge. Each shield bubble had 3 or 4 people under it, all in a line, ready to meet the kobald¡¯s charge. Nero held his breath, as the first few kobalds were already just a few feet away. His heart was pumping like crazy, and the sight of the incoming mob was making his palms sweat. The kobald lines hadn¡¯t held together very well, and it looked more like a loose swarm making its way up a hill. The elite¡¯s higher ground was giving him a great view of what was happening behind the shorter enemies. He heard the first of the kobalds being cut down a few groups to his right, and soon enough his first enemy made it into range. Like an insane child wielding a cleaver, the kobald jumped forward wildly swinging its jagged sword at him. Swiftly moving his shield into position, he received the blow at an angle like Cathleen had trained him to. The sword moved past him, and he swung his hip to give the little bastard his counter-blow. His own sword shot out, stabbing the kobald directly in its chest. The lizards eyes widened, it dropped its weapons and gripped the blade with both of its claws. Nero finished the move, pulling the blade back and returning his shield to the ready position. As the blade ripped itself free of the kobald, Nero watched its eyes go dead and its legs give out. Just like that, his first fight of the war was over. All around him, the elites were ripping into the kobalds. The enemy¡¯s charge wasn¡¯t nearly coordinated enough to cause them much of a problem. It was actually kind of pathetic to see the kobalds being executed one after another. To Nero, it looked like they were just too stupid to realize how screwed they were. But before Nero¡¯s thoughts could fool him into thinking this was going to be an easy victory, his attention was caught by another kobald screaming bloody-murder and charging at him, brandishing a short spear like he was charging a dummy. Over the little murder-lizard¡¯s shoulder, Nero saw the entire area up to the tree line filled with kobalds making their way forward, eagerly rushing to their death. Interspersed throughout the horde were the other types of kobalds, some of which were casting spells, organizing the charge, and dismantling Howard¡¯s spell. He couldn¡¯t see the end of them, and the ones in the back weren¡¯t nearly as stupid as the ones in the front. ¡®Yeah, Howie was right. There are definitely more than a hundred of them. I must have forgot to carry a zero, or something. My bad,¡¯ he thought, not remotely considering the possibility that he just didn¡¯t look around enough. Chapter 148 - An uphill battle sucks for a reason. Specialist Howard felt it the moment the illusionary barrier went down. What was once just another random piece of the forest in the mountain, suddenly became a staging ground for an invasion. The sporadic trees allowed for an impressive number of kobalds to congregate in a relatively small area. Not that the area was all that small to begin with. He forced his perception field to thin, allowing it to cover more area, and he was shocked to discover a tunnel hidden near the back of the kobald¡¯s formation. ¡®Not good,¡¯ he thought. ¡®There could be thousands of them hiding down there. What we see above ground might only be the tip of the spear.¡¯ Realizing the implications of what a tunnel might mean, he distractedly muttered an ¡°Oh shit!¡±, then turned to lock eyes with the Captain. Seeing the curious tilt to the man¡¯s head, he sent a connection request to show him what was coming. In less than a second, he shoved the images of what he¡¯d seen into the captain¡¯s mind, and watched as his face paled. Without even getting a response other than a sense of determination radiating from the man¡¯s psyche, Howard felt the connection snap shut. As the captain turned to look back at the rest of the troops, Howard cast a ¡®signal-flare¡¯ into the air, the red orb slowly rising into the sky. Holding both of his hands together, he condensed an essence pulse to grab everyone¡¯s attention. He needed to sound the alarm quickly, and it wouldn¡¯t matter if the kobalds noticed, it wasn¡¯t like they weren¡¯t already on their way. The feeling of anticipation rose in gut, and the familiar sense of imminent danger caused him to smile. It had been months since he¡¯d had a good fight, and a battle against a horde of vicious kobalds was just what he needed to wipe away the stress of the last few weeks. The memory of the little lord¡¯s cheap shot during training, the pain from the stone spike slamming into his gut caused his smile to dim a bit. The captain shouted, ¡°Howard, you¡¯re the only real mage we have at the moment, so you¡¯re on shield synchronization and aerial support.¡± Without waiting for a reply, he took off back toward the center of the camp to coordinate their defense. The realization that he wouldn¡¯t be able to fully let loose tempered his enthusiasm a little, but he was still excited to see what the enemy had in store for them. Looking down, he saw the little lord still standing there with a look of shock on his face. Although understandable for a fresh recruit, he wouldn¡¯t have thought the young man was the type to freeze under pressure. His smirk grew a little at seeing the magical prodigy acting so normal for once. ¡®Besides, this gives me an excuse to leave them a few welcoming gifts,¡¯ he thought to himself. Quickly casting a defensive shield to counter the enemy¡¯s rather unimpressive opening volley, he shouted, ¡°There are a lot more than a hundred out there, Walker!¡± He couldn¡¯t stop himself from scoffing when he saw the little guy hiding behind a tower shield, carefully tucking his legs in, making sure nothing was sticking out. Shaking his head at the adorable sight, he began carving a small ¡®flaming-whip-mine¡¯, as he didn¡¯t have enough time for much else. Seeing the young lord peeking over the top of his shield, he almost burst out laughing. The young lord changed weapons, finally putting away that ridiculous shield. He said, ¡°I didn¡¯t exactly have time to count them, I just meant there were a lot. Are we really just going to stand here and wait for them?¡± Howard let the little idiot chatter away, as he was busy finishing his spell. Feeling the spell-form stabilize, he pumped a little more center into it, and then tied it to the local ether, locking it in place. ¡®This is going to be great,¡¯ he thought with a smile. Turning around, he shouted over his shoulder, ¡°Don¡¯t talk. Just run.¡± He took off back toward the rest of the troops, while casting a simple shield spell and anchoring it to his shoulders in order to hold off any incoming arrows or spells. It wasn¡¯t worth casting an essence shield to deal with an enemy this pathetic. It looked like they¡¯d be relying on their numbers, not their skills. He sensed the little lord was finally coming to grips with what was happening, so he figured the young man would follow along soon enough. Keeping the little shit alive wasn¡¯t his responsibility anyways. When he got back to the center of the encampment, he took his place to the left of the captain. Looking out onto the troops, he could see them falling into an acceptable defensive line. It wasn¡¯t perfect, and he would prefer it if they had more troops, but the few sergeants they did have seemed to know what they were doing. He held out his arms, letting his control field seep into the ambient essence. He carefully carved an ¡®essence post¡¯ and anchored it to the ethereal plane within his essence field. Then, he reached out through the ether to tie the shield enchantments together, merging them all into a cohesive network. Normally, this would be the responsibility of a support mage, but he still remembered how to do it. In fact, this whole scenario was reminding him of his early days in the army. Even the horde of incoming kobalds looked a little like the goblins he¡¯d spent years massacring. The memory of the battles made his smile grow even wider with carefully controlled blood-lust. While the captain called out orders, Howard completely released his restraint on his essence field, flooding as much of the area as he could with his will. Feeling some push back on the edge of his range, he raised an eyebrow in surprise. ¡®So the kobald¡¯s have some skilled mages of their own. Let¡¯s see what you have for me,¡¯ he taunted them within his mind. ----- Nero felt the recoil in his wrist as his essence infused blade slammed into the edge of a lucky block by the kobald in front of him. Grimacing at the subtle pain, he stepped forward to slam his shield into his opponent. The little lizard didn¡¯t have the body mass to stand up to him, and Nero took advantage of the opening he caused to slash the kobald¡¯s throat, spraying the poor bastard¡¯s blood into the air like a fountain. Turning his head away, he felt the sickening warmth coat the left side of his face. ¡®At least monster blood evaporates after a while. This is disgusting,¡¯ he thought. Glancing over his shoulder, he saw Nick¡¯s grim visage snarl as he speared a kobald while taking advantage of the gap between Nero and elite standing next to him. Among others, Nick was acting as a secondary line, aiding the first line with arrows, spears, and the occasional spell. They were also in charge of pulling the dead bodies out of the way. If you encounter this story on Amazon, note that it''s taken without permission from the author. Report it. Not letting himself get distracted, he tightened his mental hold on his mage-armor and resumed killing whatever had the balls to show up in front of him. ¡®It¡¯s just like the trees,¡¯ he thought. ¡®Spells are awesome, but sometimes it is just so much more efficient to do it manually. Nick is probably just trying not to waste his center. I wonder how Howie is doing?¡¯ They¡¯d been at this for around 20 minutes already, and the kobald¡¯s numbers didn¡¯t seem to be letting up at all. In fact, if it weren¡¯t for the secondary line occasionally pulling bodies away from the battlefield, they¡¯d all be fighting on top of a pile of kobald corpses. Luckily, it didn¡¯t look like there were any casualties on the human side of the battle just yet, but that could change if the battle continued for the rest of the day. Looking into the distance, he saw the field in front of him over-run with kobalds making their way up the hill. Meanwhile arrows and spells still exploded on the hovering shields above him. All in all, this didn¡¯t look like the battle was going to be ending anytime soon. Sidestepping, he let a kobald¡¯s spear slip past his hip while he slashed another throat open with a backhand sword-slash. Snaking his shield arm over the dying kobald¡¯s head, he yanked the little bastard behind him, trying to make sure he didn¡¯t end up clogging the area with the lizard¡¯s soon-to-be corpse. Through his essence field, he felt Rose pull the kobald back behind the lines and stack the body on top of the rest of corpses he¡¯d made. From over his shoulder, he felt Rose launch the dead kobald¡¯s spear back toward the enemy. He cringed a little at the sight of the spear ¡®head-shotting¡¯ a charging kobald in the distance. ¡®Considering how many times she¡¯s done that, it¡¯s definitely not luck. That girl is freaking brutal. I wonder if she¡¯s finally out of arrows?¡¯ he thought. His breathing was surprisingly steady. As he fought, he couldn¡¯t help but compare the battle to his time training with Cathleen. After thinking about it for a bit, he realized that this was all rather tame compared to what she had usually put him through. While that thought bounced around his head, he kicked out gently with his foot to move his current enemy¡¯s leg a little out of position, causing the kobald in front of him to lower his shield a little too far. Like he¡¯d done countless times before, Nero stabbed forward with his blade. Seeing the strike nearly remove the kobald¡¯s head by severing its thin excuse for a neck, he looked around to see how everyone else was doing. It didn¡¯t seem like the kobalds were much of a threat individually. From what he could tell, the elites were all handling them just fine. Some of them even looked a little bored. Even the pace of the battle wasn¡¯t too bad. They¡¯d probably be able to keep this up for hours at this rate. So why did he feel like he was missing something? ¡®It¡¯s because any idiot would know that this type of assault would never work. Fresh recruits would be able to handle this, and they aren¡¯t even trying to get around the line to force us to turtle up. They can¡¯t be this stupid, can they? I mean, We Have The High-ground!¡¯ he thought with a chuckle. Figuring he¡¯d need the brainpower, and considering it was currently doing nothing other than sapping his mental strength, he let his mage-armor dissipate into the ether. As he fought, he let part of his mind reach out through the ether, trying to get a better sense of what was happening from a wider perspective. His mental presence slid along the lines, watching the elites rip apart the enemy, while the bodies continued to pile higher and higher behind them. He had to admit that what he was seeing was without a doubt, rather impressive. The coordination among the teams was nothing short of outstanding. Not to mention, seeing Captain Angelton walking behind the troops, shouting orders and offering support as if he were some kind of Roman general demanding his troops to ¡®hold the line¡¯, was kind of awesome. Surprisingly, he had no trouble paying attention to the fight while half his attention was busy taking a look around through the ether. ¡®This must be what Nick meant when he talked about ¡®splitting my mind¡¯. The part I¡¯ve been training to maintain my armor is now being used to spy on the battle. Nifty trick,¡± he thought. If he had to describe it, he¡¯d say the skill was similar to holding a conversation while cooking. Or better yet, watching TV while working out. However, it was also so much more than that. He felt like he was fully paying attention to two entirely separate things. In a way, it was rather amazing, but also kind of a let down. It didn¡¯t seem remotely magical, it just felt like he was getting really good at paying attention to multiple things at the same time. ¡®I don¡¯t think I¡¯ll be able to play a riveting game of chess against myself anytime soon, or hold an intense mental debate in my head. This isn¡¯t anything like the mind partitions I read about in the stories,¡¯ he complained, while slamming the edge of his shield down onto the throat of kobald he¡¯d tripped up. While the fight went on, he sent his mental probe deeper into the kobald horde. ¡®There has to be a reason they¡¯re sacrificing themselves like this,¡¯ he thought. Back near the tree-line, almost at the edge of his perception range, he saw several of the larger kobalds shoving the foot-soldiers into hap-hazard lines and sending them off to their deaths. Even thought the farther he got from the battle lines, the fuzzier everything looked, he could still kind of hear them shouting orders in their weird hissing, guttural speech. ¡°Move in groups! Attack together! Force the smooth-skins to earn their kills!¡± yelled the towering lizards. Nero frowned, the ether was shaking so much it was taking a lot of focus to maintain his connection to his probe. It didn¡¯t seem to be wasting his center so much as it was simply sapping his concentration. It wasn¡¯t really like scrying at all, since it was entirely within his field of control, but it was still oddly difficult. The worst part about it was that he didn¡¯t know why he was having so much trouble with it. While he slaughtered more kobalds, he let his mind chew on the problem. ¡®What the hell is causing all this interference? I thought I had gotten pretty good at seeing through other people¡¯s essence fields. I still can¡¯t cast anything within their zone of control, but I should at least be able to see what the hell is going on. And why does the essence out there look like that? It¡¯s so dense that it¡¯s more like mist or fog than any kind of essence flow. Could it be the emotions or something? No, it¡¯s got to be something else. That¡¯s just too idiotic to consider,¡¯ he thought. Fed up, he slammed his sword hilt down onto a kobald¡¯s head, feeling the recoil all the way up to his shoulder as the skull shattered. When the lizard went limp, he hooked his hilt behind its neck and let the body fall past him. Turning his attention to the next enemy, he used his shield to knock its spear up into the air. The kobald stumbled back, hissing in annoyance at his failed attempt to kill him. Nero didn¡¯t pursue, and just maintained his position among the line, exactly like he was supposed to. The battle raged on, with Nero lost in thought while almost mechanically eliminating enemies, one by one, over and over again. Meanwhile, half his attention stayed focused on how the ether was roiling with thick clouds of essence and mulling over the implication that he was, in fact, missing something important. While spells and arrows continued to explode on the shields above him, Nero wondered, ¡®Where are all these bastards coming from? And is there a plan to end this any time soon?¡¯ Chapter 149 - Combat simplified. Captain Angelton ran a critical eye over his troops preparations. He knew most of these men and women were hunters, having spent years honing their skills to primarily kill monsters and beasts. Their only experience fighting in a battle of any significant size would be if they were actually facing a beast tide. Unfortunately, even those battles were fought at distance and under the relative safety of the city¡¯s walls. These elites just didn¡¯t have the background to deal with the sentient foes currently heading their way¡­ and it showed. ¡°Post!¡± he shouted, signaling the sergeants to raise the shield layer and receive the kobald¡¯s charge. Glancing to his left, he saw Specialist Howard anchoring another spell shield for his personal protection. The man¡¯s eyes were closed while he concentrated on his duties, but Angelton could see the slightest hint of smirk on his lips. ¡®At least I have a competant war-mage. If it comes to it, he might be able to cover our retreat,¡¯ he thought critically. Feeling a response to the emergency signal he¡¯d sent to command, he mentally reached out through the communication crystal residing in the pouch on his hip. Angelton felt the connection open, and he heard an annoyed voice immediately start talking, ¡°Survey Team #24, if you¡¯re attempting to report the successful activation of your base camp, then you¡¯re on the wrong frequency. This connection is only to be used for emergencies. I suggest you -¡± Angelton¡¯s stern voice cut the technician off, ¡°S.T. 24 reporting contact with a significant enemy force. We need reinforcements and mages to provide real-time intelligence. Our location is at the proposed site of our base-camp, but they attacked before our defenses were finished. Currently we are in melee with their forces relying on skirmish shields and a singular war-mage for aerial control. Ranged spells are in play, but no tactical magic has been used at this time.¡± This wasn¡¯t the first time Angelton has had to deal with this kind of thing. It was both a blessing and curse to have such ironclad control over his essence field. Very rarely could anyone get a read on his emotions, and over a connection-link it was practically impossible. The technician clearly wasn¡¯t expecting an emergency when he felt the connection request, which explained why he hadn¡¯t immediately answered the emergency signal. ¡®Our forces are out of practice, and totally unprepared for what we¡¯re facing,¡¯ he bitterly thought to himself. Unsurprisingly, he felt the shocked technician being replaced on the other end. The new mind seemed much calmer and significantly more powerful. Before long, he heard a strong feminine voice come through the crystal. ¡°S.T. 24, relay composition of enemy forces, and provide a situation update,¡± she ordered. Captain Angelton watched as the elites butchered the first wave of kobalds without mercy. He offered them a firm nod of appreciation even though they couldn¡¯t see it. Closing his eyes, he isolated the memory Specialist Howard had shown him, then sent it through the communication crystal toward command. ¡°Our initial sighting showed a relatively small force, but there is a tunnel supplying them reinforcements from underground. Enemy numbers are unknown, but visual confirmation confirms at least over 500. Enemy units include mages, shamans, battle-leaders, and grunts. Possibly there are additional units that remain unidentified. Battle is currently at the melee stage, no tactical spells or summons in sight. How long until we can get some support?¡± he asked, the entire time keeping his voice steady. Command replied immediately, ¡°4 hours minimum. There is no point sending fire-teams individually, we¡¯ll have to gather a significant force before they head toward your position. Units are already being called in, and they¡¯ll be heading your way in an hour at the earliest. Even at best speed, it will still take some time before they can get to where you are. I¡¯m sorry captain, but you¡¯re on your own for now. If you can, maintain this connection and report any and all intelligence that you can gather. You are the first survey team to encounter a unified response to our presence in the mountains, and information you can give us is crucial to our ongoing strategic planning efforts.¡± Captain Angelton¡¯s visage almost cracked, a hint of a frown nearly showing on his face. ¡°You should know that this attack was preceded by one of our soldiers accidentally breaching the illusion hiding their forces with his perception field. The moment they were seen, they started their attack. I¡¯m not sure if they were actually planning to ambush us, or if they even intended to attack us at all. It¡¯s entirely possible that more kobald troops and tunnels are currently hidden behind similar illusions. Point of fact, not even our war-mage was able to break their illusion, so I can¡¯t offer any suggestions on how command should proceed.¡± The communication crystal stayed silent for more than a few seconds, and Captain Angelton¡¯s attention returned to the battle going on around him. He made his way up and down the lines, observing the elites diligently maintaining the line. The choice to place the encampment at the top of a plateau was a good one. It was also lucky that they¡¯d had enough time to clear so much of the surrounding forest. The sight lines were good, and the open space forced the enemy¡¯s ranged forces to attack from quite the distance. ¡®Plenty of space to see what we¡¯re up against,¡¯ he thought to himself. The communication crystal came alive again, and he heard the impatient voice on the other end say, ¡°The surveillance mages are saying that they don¡¯t see anything to corroborate your theory. They want to talk to the soldier who breached the illusion. You can connect him to the communication crystal and we¡¯ll link it to the Mage Tower on our end.¡± The captain paused his steps in surprise. The sounds of battle faded into the background as he turned around to look for Walker. Several teams over, he could see the young man cutting down a kobald and dismissively tossing the body behind him. The young lord¡¯s skill at using a sword and shield was better than he thought it would be. Weighing the pros and cons of pulling the young man off the line, he decided against it. From what Walker had said, he wasn¡¯t able to explain how he did it, and it would be a waste of time to have him try. Besides, they were currently in the middle of a battle, and the young man was of more use killing kobalds then having an argument with mages who have been increasingly useless¡­ in his opinion at least. ¡°The soldier in question is currently locked in combat. If the mages want to speak with him, you¡¯ll have to come get us. I¡¯ll be sure to let you know if anything changes with our situation, but I have a battle to fight. S.T. 24 out,¡± he said, then pushed the connection to the back of his mind. ¡®Hopefully, whatever intelligence they think Walker has is important enough to warrant some extraordinary measures,¡¯ he thought, while looking out into the distance and seeing the never-ending line of grunts stumbling up the hill to their deaths. ¡®We¡¯re probably going to need it.¡¯ ----- Enjoying the story? Show your support by reading it on the official site. For the most part, Nero¡¯s attention remained evenly split between whatever enemy was directly in front of him and the mental probe he was using to monitor the battle. The fights themselves weren¡¯t all that difficult, and the effort to maintain his mental probe was almost non-existent. Luckily, his efforts with the mental probe proved far more interesting than his fights with the stupidly rabid lizard-children. At first, he tried focusing on what the kobalds were doing, but there really wasn¡¯t much to see. Within his perception range, he was limited to the open space between him and the tree-line, and that was completely filled with kobalds falling over themselves to get to the top of the hill and swing whatever pathetic excuse for a weapon they had at the first human they saw. Even the kobald mages had retreated behind the trees after they¡¯d dealt with Specialist Howard¡¯s ¡®fire-whippy-ball-thing¡¯, or whatever the hell that spell was called. In Nero¡¯s experience, spell-form naming conventions tended to be rather literal. Regardless, eventually he started observing how the rest of the elites were fighting. He was able to see numerous basic skills at play, but mostly they were confining themselves to basic weapon forms. He supposed it made sense, it would be idiotic to tire themselves out by wasting center when they didn¡¯t have to. As the battle wore on, he ended up focusing on what Specialist Howard was doing. That was when he hit pay-dirt. It took a while to filter through everything that he was seeing, but eventually Nero realized how much the man was actually doing. All of the shields that were hovering above the soldiers, every one of them was being supported by a single spell. Somehow the man had created a static area of essence in the ethereal plane, and then built a framework to hold the shields in the air. That one spell was holding back hundreds of arrows, tens of spells, and whatever else the enemy was throwing at them. It was incredible. Nero had no idea how Howard was doing it. If he hadn¡¯t noticed the very slight connection leading back to the man¡¯s center, he would never have realized the man was responsible for the spell at all. After adding it to the list of things he would eventually get around to learning, he turned his attention to what the man was casting. From what Nero could tell, Specialist Howard was standing under a large bubble shield, similarly tied to the ether, but possibly powered by his center. The man¡¯s eyes were closed, and his hands were at his sides, palms facing forward while his fingers danced around crazily. Nero could see several strings of essence connecting his fingers to hovering spell forms floating above his shield, while some flew off into the distance. Like charging turrets, the spell-forms hovering in the air would slowly build up essence until they reached critical mass. When ready, they would launch balls of green fire into the air, off into the tree line. During their flight, smaller balls of fire would reign down onto the charging kobalds, exploding into glorious displays of destruction like a bomber strafing the battle-field. Nero studied the spell carefully, but at this distance he couldn¡¯t get a picture clear enough to fully copy the spell-form. While he was able to get the general idea, the part that actually controlled how the spell would charge, then fire, was complete gibberish to him. Although he really wanted to head over to the man to get and take a closer look, he knew now wasn¡¯t the time. In addition to his ranged bombardment, Specialist Howard was also disrupting the ambient ether somehow while combating the enemy¡¯s magic. When the kobald casters launched their own spells, one of the strings from Howard¡¯s hands would lock onto the spell and slowly corrupt it while it was still in flight. By the time their spells hit the shields, they were barely holding themselves together. Nero thought he figured out how the man was doing it, but until he had a chance to try it, he couldn¡¯t be sure. Occasionally, Howard would change out the hovering spells, and Nero would do everything he could to memorize what the man was doing. To Nero, seeing such interesting magic was completely worth the threat of being eaten alive by kobalds¡­ or at least that¡¯s what he told himself. As Nero was going through the motions, killing kobalds left and right, he imagined what it would look like to have lines of mages casting spells into the air like Howard, filling the sky with powerful magics. Rows and Rows of competing mages who would be the defining factor in a large scale war. ¡®I wonder how long he can keep up this level of casting,¡¯ thought Nero. An arrow clipped Nero¡¯s cheek, causing his mental probe to snap back to him like the end of a tape-measure. ¡®What the hell was that?!?¡¯ he wondered, as he felt blood starting to drip down his face. Refocusing on the battle in front of him, he saw groups of kobalds holding up little bows and firing into the lines from, at most, 30 ft away. They didn¡¯t seem to care that almost all of their arrows were slamming into the backs of their comrades. Looking around, Nero could see several of these archer-groups firing at point blank range into the melee. Although most of the arrows didn¡¯t do much, some of them made it through to the elites, and Nero could see the secondary line switching positions to replace the injured soldiers. There was even a soldier¡¯s corpse being resuscitated near the back of the formation. ¡®The first real casualty on our side,¡¯ he thought, his face adopting a grimace. Turning back to the kobalds, he could see that they fully intended to continue the suicidal practice of firing into the backs of their soldiers, hoping that one or two arrow might make it through. Without a doubt, this proved to Nero that when he had called them rabid lizard-children, he was not wrong. Figuring that he should do something, he was about to cast a spell when he heard Sergeant Wesker, on his left, relay the exact same orders the sergeant on his right was saying. All along the line, the sergeants all shouted the same thing, ¡°Secondaries! Take out those archers!¡± Nero thought it was incredibly weird to hear the orders happening in surround sound. Immediately, spears and arrows were launched into the archer-groups, punishing them for standing still in the middle of the battlefield. As the elites were able to shoot from an elevated position, they had no issues obliterating every one of their targets. While it was arguably a clever idea for the kobalds to avoid the hovering shields by firing at the humans from a closer position, thereby negating the firing arc issue. Ultimately, Nero thought it was a dumb-ass plan. All the kobalds had managed to do was kill tons of their own troops and annoy the elites a little. Even their one successful kill was already being brought back and would soon be returning to exact his revenge on the little buggers. Soon enough, everything returned to what was rapidly becoming the new normal. Kobalds would charge up to the line, trade a few blows, die, then get pulled off to the side. By this time, Nero felt like he¡¯d killed at least a hundred kobalds, all on his own, but they still kept coming. ¡®Is this really how battles work in this world?¡¯ he wondered. Suddenly, he felt the ambient essence pull taut like a bow-string. For a moment, the entire ethereal plane seem pause in anticipation of something. Nero absently kicked the kobald in front of him, forcing it back to give him some space, allowing him a moment to focus on what was happening. Then he heard it. Both in the ethereal plane, and the material one. It sounded like a gigantic sheet of construction paper tearing next to a microphone. The auditory assault made the hair on his head stand up, and a shiver shot its way up his spine. Whatever was happening was completely ¡®wrong¡¯, and he could almost hear the voice the world growling in annoyance at the slight to nature. Nero heard Captain Angelton¡¯s firm voice ring out over the field of battle, ¡°Enemy summons incoming. Stand fast, and maintain position.¡± Nero looked at the kobalds on the field in front of him, and the feeling of incoming danger got so much worse. They had all paused what they were doing, and were staring back toward the tree-line, clearly anticipating something worth seeing. Through his essence field, he could feel the combination of hundreds of kobalds all feeling giddy, and it was causing his hands to sweat. Off in the distance, behind the tree-line, he could see the tops of several trees being pushed aside like something was forcing its way into the world. Although he couldn¡¯t see what was happening in the ether, as the distance was too far for his field to reach, he could guess. Somehow, they¡¯d opened a connection to another plane, and something was coming through. ¡®I bet that is what it looks like when a spawn-point converts to a planar tear. This is going to suck¡­ isn¡¯t it. You know, when some asshole writes the story of my life, this is totally going to be a chapter ending cliff-hanger. I can feel it,¡¯ he told himself, trying to inject some humor into the situation. Chapter 150 - Is that a freaking kaiju? While Nero and the elites were fighting for their lives in Dorchester, the council of mages was embroiled in a heated debate in the Tower of Magic¡¯s council hall in Hennings. Archmage Mathers rubbed his temples with his palms, his eyes were closed tightly in pain. The argument going on around him was just too stupid for his mind to process. As usual, his fellow arch-mages were wasting time pointlessly debating a topic that was, at best, academic. ¡°I¡¯m telling you, it¡¯s not that you CAN¡¯T address him as Scholar Jenkins, it¡¯s that you shouldn¡¯t,¡± said one arch-mage, while leaning back in his chair with a look of complete confidence on his face. His main opponent in the debate, Arch-mage Tulli, slammed her hand down on the table and yelled across the room, ¡°Just because he is only at the rank of ¡®adept¡¯ does not mean that he isn¡¯t a ¡®scholar¡¯. The man leads an entire team in the archives primarily responsible for peer-review and theoretical proofing. It¡¯s his hells-be-damned job title for heaven¡¯s sake! There is no reason NOT to call him Scholar Jenkins!¡± Not even remotely unsettled by her outburst, the man replied, ¡°I¡¯m not saying that he isn¡¯t a scholar. I¡¯m simply saying that addressing him as one is inaccurate. He is first and foremost an adept¡­ his job title is immaterial to ¡®who¡¯ he is. While he can change jobs, he cannot change his rank!¡± A supporter of the other arch-mage replied, ¡°Just because he never applied for magus testing to attain the rank of arch-mage, doesn¡¯t mean he isn¡¯t entitled to receive the respect he deserves. It¡¯s insulting to refer to a scholar as a mere adept. I don¡¯t see why we can¡¯t just refer to him as a scholar and make everyone happy.¡± Another mage piped in, angrily shouting, ¡°Because that would imply that he is an arch-mage! Which he is not! One thing has nothing to do with the other!¡± In support, another person shouted, ¡°That¡¯s right! If you look at the identification records filed with the personnel department, you¡¯ll see he is listed as an adept. Therefore, that¡¯s the only title he is entitled to.¡± An older arch-mage, currently fed up with the argument shouted, ¡°Does this ¡®Jenkins¡¯ even care what title we use when we talk about him?¡± One of the original debaters slammed her hand down on the table again, nearly screaming, ¡°That¡¯s irrelevant!¡± A confused arch-mage chimed in, the sincerity of his question causing everyone to stare at him for a moment, ¡°What is? The fact that he doesn¡¯t care what he¡¯s called, or that he does?¡± A timid voice spoke up, ¡°Why can¡¯t everyone just be referred to as whatever title they want? We can just have them choose their preferred title, and register it with local hub. Won¡¯t that solve everything?¡± Seeing this as a good opportunity to join in on the debate, one of the newer arch-mages shouted, ¡°I¡¯ve always wanted to be referred to as ¡®Supreme Magus Extraordinaire¡¯! I don¡¯t see a problem with it.¡± Shouts for and against the proposed policy erupted in the room. Some people derided the idea as completely unscientific and a waste of time. Others shouted out their own preferred titles, eagerly trying to stake their claim on whatever title resonated with their personal philosophy. There were those that tried to stick to scientific arguments, while others stated that there was no harm in adopting a cultural convention that covered every eventuality. Mather¡¯s was at his wits end, he slammed his palm down on table with essence infusing his hand. The resulting sound was loud enough to silence the entire council chamber. ¡°This is obviously a question for the cultural department of standards. Someone fill out the query and register it. Anyone interested in the topic will have the opportunity to present their arguments to them. This is not something that falls under our purview. For the official record, you¡¯re all idiots. Did anyone NOT understand who Arch-mage Tulli was referring to when he referenced Jenkins¡¯ findings?¡± he asked, while pointing at the large report still being projected above the table. No one in the room spoke up, and the silence stretched for a few uncomfortable seconds. ¡°I thought not. So what does it matter what you call him!¡± he finished, nearly growling by the end of his rant. After taking a few deep breathes to clear his mind, he continued, ¡°Now. Let¡¯s get back to the original topic. How do we feel about the findings? Are we happy with this proposed strategy? Do we think this is the best way to go about reducing the influence of the Tower of Fate?¡± The silence was broken by one of the arch-mages grumbling a little too loudly, ¡°I don¡¯t think we should follow the recommendation of a man who doesn¡¯t even know what title he should use.¡± Several guffaws and chuckles burst out, while a few gasps were heard. Arch-mage Mathers shot to his feet, screaming, ¡°That¡¯s it. You and me Bertrand. In the arena, right now. I¡¯m gonna pummel you so bad, the only title you¡¯ll be using is victim!¡± Once again, the council hall erupted in shouts of support and dissent. It was hours before they finally decided to go with Jenkins¡¯ plan for their shadow war with the Tower of Fate. ----- As the kobalds all stared back at the tree-line, eagerly waiting to see what their over-seers had summoned, most of the elites took the opportunity to cast cleaning spells and prepare for the next stage of the battle. However, Nero stood there transfixed by what he was happening. Although whatever was going on behind the tree-line was too far for him to perceive with his mind probe, he was still able to see the effect it had on the ambient essence in the ethereal plane, and what an effect it was. All of the essence that had been slowly accumulating in the area was being pulled toward whatever the kobalds had done. It looked like a hole had been poked in reality and everything was leaking out through whatever opening it had made. To Nero, it was like the colors all around him were getting a little bit dimmer. He hadn¡¯t realized how much the ethereal plane affected the material one. Like a bomb going off, the trees that were being disturbed by the event were ripped out of the ground and pushed aside. Even from as far away as Nero was, he could see a bright light come into existence and start expanding. The ground shook, and a wide open area was being revealed along the tree-line. When the final tree fell, Nero was able to finally see what the kobalds had done. There was a large, jagged portal leading to what looked like another world. Taking a guess, he thought it must be at least 30ft wide by 20ft tall, and it was still growing. Through the shimmering hole in reality, he could see cracked red soil, and an orange sky. ¡®Are those mountain¡¯s or volcanoes in the distance?¡¯ he wondered. He couldn¡¯t really see all that much, as the view was blocked by a large snout weaving back and forth on the other side of the portal. Despite being over 100ft away, Nero could tell that the damn thing¡¯s head was at least the size of a train-car, maybe a house. He could see its large yellow eyes, brimming with intelligence looking through the portal, trying to judge what kind of environment it would be invading. Nero shivered a little when its gaze ran over his position. From what little he could see, the beast looked like a gigantic komodo dragon crossed with a crocodile. Nero stared blankly at the soon-to-be emerging reptile, and asked the only question that mattered at the moment, ¡°Is that a dragon?¡± Nick, as usual, was the one to answer Nero¡¯s question, ¡°Of course not! A dragon looks nothing like that. Why in all of the hells would you think that is a dragon?¡± His voice full of mockery, as if the question itself were somehow insulting to him. Nero turned his head and pointed with his sword at the portal in the distance. ¡°Alright smart-ass, then what the hell is it?¡± Nick glared at him and replied, ¡°I have no idea. It¡¯s obviously an extra-planar lizard of some kind.¡± Sergeant Wesker¡¯s voice was full of worry as he said, ¡°It¡¯s a siege-wyrm. Kobald armies summon them when they want to assault cities. At least that explains what they were doing out here. This must be their intended invasion point¡­ or at least one of them.¡± Nick asked curiously, ¡°How did you come to that conclusion?¡± Sergeant Wesker snorted, ¡°Because a summoning of that scale requires a great deal of preparation. Not to mention a lot of sacrificial magic. That must be what the shamans were doing back there.¡± Nero looked over his shoulder at all the kobald bodies that had been piled up over the past hour, or maybe two. ¡®I really should keep a closer watch on the time,¡¯ he thought wryly. Shaking his head at the waste of life, he looked back to see what was happening with the portal. It was now much larger and the beast seemed like it was eager to come through. When it pulled its head back from the portal, it tentatively shoved one of its massive feet through the opening. The moment it crossed the threshold, all of the kobalds all started cheering, their hissing screams of excitement made Nero¡¯s ears feel like they were bleeding. This tale has been unlawfully obtained from Royal Road. If you discover it on Amazon, kindly report it. The beast was so large, even its leg filled the entire portal. ¡®How much larger is the portal going to grow? The thing must be the size of an apartment building, at least!¡¯ he thought to himself, in awe of what he was seeing. Firming his grip on his weapons, he asked, ¡°Is that portal permanent?¡± Shrugging, Sergeant Wesker replied, ¡°No idea. It might be that we¡¯ll have to go down there and close it ourselves.¡± Nick snorted at the idea, saying, ¡°Yeah, that¡¯s a wonderful idea. There¡¯s only like a thousand kobalds between here and there. No problem at all.¡± Before anyone could reply, Sergeant Wesker stiffened in place for a second. Nero looked over at the man, confused as to what was happening. When the man started moving again, the first thing he did was dismiss the shield he had been using. Reaching up, he pulled down the shield that had been hovering above them, dismissing the glowing bubble that had been protecting them since the beginning of the battle. Luckily, the kobalds were still busy ogling the summoning portal and weren¡¯t attacking at the moment. In fact, it looked like they were completely ignoring the elites for the time being. ¡®Perhaps they only attacked us so that they could fulfill the requirements to open the portal? Is that why they were so eager to die? Makes sense, I guess. We don¡¯t really matter much in the face of the that city-killing monstrosity,¡¯ he thought grimly. All along the line, the sergeants were pulling down the shields and switching out their weapons. Nero looked around with no small amount of confusion, completely lost as to what the plan might be. ¡®Are we taking the opportunity to run away?¡¯ he wondered hopefully. While Nero heard Sergeant Wesker bark, ¡°Everyone, on me!¡±, Captain Angelton¡¯s essence enhanced voice called out, ¡°Collapse!¡± The order was loud enough to make Nero jump a little in surprise. Following along with the rest of the elites, he stumbled a little as everyone converged into the center of the camp. He was quickly pushed into a position, and then told to stay put. He watched as the burgeoning formation arranged itself all around him, his confusion evident on his face. For a moment, he was able to share a look with Rose who seemed just as out of sorts as he was. It looked like she was being placed somewhere in the middle, most likely because she white-knuckling her bow. Opening his senses, he took a look around to see what their new formation looked like. It turned out that they were being arranged in the classic arrow maneuver that geese do in the sky. But this time, the middle was full of ranged fighters while the edges were filled with shield-bearers and melee fighters. All the way at the front stood Captain Angelton, his stone-like face surveying the preparations with a practiced eye. Before long, Nero was standing next to two elites he didn¡¯t recognize. He found himself on the outer edge of the left side, not liking the conclusions he was coming to. ¡®Are these crazy sons-of-bitches really planning on charging into all that? Downhill, through a field of kobalds, TOWARD the building sized monster that is emerging from some kind of hell-plane! Yeah, this has ¡®good-idea¡¯ written all over it,¡¯ he thought to himself, filing the mental complaint in his head. Feeling the essence around him shift, Nero looked up to see a new set of shields forming above them. Instead of being supported by floating, physical shields, these new magic shields were made up of overlapping squares of blue tinted glass-like energy. He was able to trace the shields back to their casters, seeing a group of soldiers in the middle of the formation huddling around each other with looks of concentration on their faces. Recognizing one of them, Nero thought to himself, ¡®Isn¡¯t that chick one of the healers that always rez¡¯d me during training?¡¯ Captain Angelton¡¯s voice shocked him out of his thoughts, as the man¡¯s impromptu speech was loud enough to shake the ground under their feet. ¡°We move as one! If someone falls, hand them back to your comrades behind you. We don¡¯t stop. That portal cannot open. We end this here and now. Reinforcements are coming and we just have to hold out until they get here. Our lives, the lives of Dorchester¡¯s citizens¡­ Every one of them is in our hands. We must not... We will not... FAIL! This is our duty. This is our purpose. Soldiers of Oglivarch! Forward! For Dorchester!¡± he shouted, causing the entire formation to surge as one down the hill. Nero felt like everything was happening too fast. It hadn¡¯t even been 5 minutes since the portal opened, and already the entire tone of the battle had completely shifted. One minute, he was happily ripping apart kobalds, and now he was charging down a hill toward his doom. ¡®Is this how the kobalds felt a few minutes ago?¡¯ he wondered. It didn¡¯t take long for the kobalds to realize what the ¡®smooth-skins¡¯ were doing. Almost immediately, they stopped staring at the summoning portal and resumed their attacks. Like a competing tide, the lizards all started charging the formation. But due to the speed of the elites, some of the kobalds ended up having to turn around and follow them from behind, their little legs unable to keep up. As he ran down the hill, Nero fended off incoming arrows with his shield, and slashed at anything that got close to him. He wasn¡¯t bothering to try and kill anything, he was just forcing any kobald that got close to jump back and tangle itself up with the kobalds behind it. ¡®Hopefully, by the time we get to the portal, we¡¯ll be able to reform the line. But without the advantage of the terrain making them spread out, this is going to suck hard,¡¯ he thought to himself, while pushing a kobald back with a sword slash to its snout. Through his perception field, he was trying to pay attention to what was happening near the front of the formation, and he was really liking what he was seeing. Captain Angelton was like a force of nature. The man had created some kind of floating golden panels that were acting like a cow-catcher on the front of a train. Rather than being vertical, they were aligned horizontally, so as the formation moved down the hill, the panels were knee-capping the kobalds one after another. It was brutal. The elites around the captain didn¡¯t even bother to pause as they stepped over the downed lizards, stomping them into the dirt while they marched over them. To Nero, it looked like the man was using a giant, magic, weed-wacker to mow down his enemies. Looking closely at the golden panels, Nero realized that they must be the captain¡¯s ability at work. If Nero remembered right, the man had a ¡®defensive¡¯ pillar. Or maybe it was ¡®protection¡¯? Either way, it was something like that. Regardless, whatever it was called, the way the man was using the glowing shields was definitely not very ¡®defensive¡¯. ¡®I guess that proves what Nick said about pillars, they really are ¡®loosely defined¡¯ and open to interpretation,¡¯ he thought. Behind the captain, Nero could see Specialist Howard forming some kind of spell as he jogged down the hill. The essence was pooling around the man, but Nero couldn¡¯t understand what he was seeing. Most spell-forms looked like symbolic writing, but this one looked almost 3d. It wasn¡¯t at all flat, it was more like a cube. Even though Nero was close enough to get a good look, it still didn¡¯t make any sense to him. All too soon, they were at the tree-line and the fighting became a little more hectic than Nero was comfortable with. After feeling an arrow clip his shoulder, he decided that his mind probe wasn¡¯t very important at the moment and dismissed it in order to free up some mental muscle. Using his newfound ability to multi-task, he quickly summoned his mage-armor and condensed a new layer of protection. The blood and gore blended together into one giant blur of carnage, and Nero¡¯s entire world shrunk to the small bubble of violence going on around him. With no one to clear the bodies, their speed began to falter. Perhaps the front of the formation made it to the portal, because eventually their pace slowed to a walk. That was until Nero bumped shoulders with the elite on his right, and then their forward progress came to a complete halt. Hacking and slashing, Nero fought with everything he had. Before long, technique took a back-seat to expedience, and he felt like he was once again chopping down trees. His enemies were stumbling over their fallen comrades, eventually forming a make-shift wall of dead kobalds at the their feet. In order to get closer, the kobalds had to drag their dead out of the way, leaving pools of blood in the dirt. The stench of combat was making his head swim, and the essence in the air was like sludge filling the ethereal plane, dulling his senses. Suddenly, the enemy in front of him wasn¡¯t a tiny kobald, it was a 7 ft tall lizard-man frothing at the mouth and hurling understandable insults. Receiving an overhead swing directly onto his shield, Nero heard the giant kobald¡¯s hissing screech, ¡°You¡¯ll die screaming smooth-skin! This is our mountain, and there is no place for your kind here!¡± Nero felt the strike all the way to his ankles, his entire body shaking with the contact. ¡®Holy shit this dude is strong!¡¯ he thought. Not wanting to fight the giant lizard head on, Nero did what he always thought about when he was getting his ass kicked by Cathleen, he cheated. As his essence field was strong enough to allow him to cast near his body, he carved a ¡®stone-spike¡¯ spell directly on his own chest, facing out. With a smirk on his face, he angled his shield to let the kobald¡¯s sword fall a little off to his side, then used his shield to further push it out of position. The result was him presenting his chest like he was firing a chest-laser directly at the bastard in front of him. Considering the difference in height, Nero¡¯s plan worked¡­ kind of. The lizard-man did, in fact, allow his sword to fall a little off to the side, and he did allow himself to be pushed a little out of position. He probably didn¡¯t think that a small smooth-skin, one who was barely tall enough to reach his chest, would be able to reach him at their current distance. Unfortunately for him, Nero wasn¡¯t using his sword to attack him. The glowing circle on Nero¡¯s chest went off, his personalized ¡®stone-spike¡¯ spell launching a rapid fire series of spikes one after another. Each one shooting forward at the speed of an arrow. Nero¡¯s grin turned a little sour as he saw the first two spikes hit the giant lizard in the lower gut, then the last two ruined whatever was between the kobald¡¯s legs. Luckily, whatever was down there was hidden by a primitive loincloth and what could pass for chain-mail leggings. The sight of the kobald¡¯s knees locking together in pain made Nero involuntarily cringe. The kobald dropped his sword, his clawed hands shooting to his crotch. After freezing like a cat being noticed, he collapsed to his knees right in front of Nero. Now at eye level, Nero looked into the lizard-man¡¯s eyes. While, it was unnerving to feel empathy for an enemy, the look of pain on its face after getting hit in a lizard¡¯s most sacred place was all too familiar to Nero. Even worse, the pathetically whining hiss that came out of the kobald¡¯s mouth made Nero want to gag in sympathetic pain. Wanting it to end, Nero stepped forward and stabbed the kobald in the throat, saying, ¡°Don¡¯t start none, won¡¯t be none.¡± He watched the kobald bleed out in front of him, the large corpse giving him a moment of respite in the insanity going on all around him. Looking up, he saw that there were still plenty of enemies trying to force their way into melee range, and he knew that it wasn¡¯t going to get any better, anytime soon. ¡®Did I just get to deliver a bad-ass line after killing a bad guy who was way out of my league¡­ like a boss? Yes. Yes, I did. I¡¯m really living the dream, aren¡¯t I,¡¯ he told himself, trying to see the silver lining in the cloud of kobald souls clogging the ether. Chapter 151 - The adventure of a lifetime. ¡°It¡¯s a summoning! They¡¯re opening a planar connection just past the tree-line!¡± screamed Specialist Howard. Captain Angelton could feel the essence in the ether shifting. The battlefield suddenly felt like it was holding its breath. The charging horde of kobalds halted their assault, and were now just standing there, looking back toward the tree-line, waiting to see what their leaders had called forth. The captain turned to Specialist Howard and asked, ¡°How? That shouldn¡¯t be possible without a great deal of preparation and countless mages working in concert for days in order to charge the spell array.¡± Although his voice was devoid of emotion, his iron will was struggling to contain his shock. Specialist Howard met the captain¡¯s eyes and said, ¡°It was their shamans. They used their own dead as the fuel for their ritual. I recognize the spell-scripting. It¡¯s a vile type of soul magic.¡± The captain¡¯s face twisted into a rare grimace. He had played right into their hands. He should have realized that the battle was going too well. He had known kobalds were capable of strategic thinking, and treating them as simple-minded monsters had been a mistake. Infusing essence into his voice, he shouted, ¡°Enemy summons incoming. Stand fast, and maintain position.¡± Mentally widening the connection to command he still had active through the communication orb, he said, ¡°S.T. 24 situation update. Enemy forces have activated a ritual summoning using their own dead as a sacrificial component. Shamans capable of soul magic have been confirmed through scrying. Request immediate reinforcements.¡± He felt the mind on the other side of the connection almost recoil in surprise. ¡°Reinforcements are still at least 2 hours out, probably closer to 3. Teleportation into the area is impossible, the essence currents are too strong to risk it without an astra-platform to target at your location. For now¡­ wait one,¡± the voice said, then the mind on the other end of the connection dimmed as if it were paying attention to another conversation. The captain grit his teeth, unsure of what he should do. Every second he hesitated was another second the ritual had to complete it¡¯s purpose. It wasn¡¯t like he didn¡¯t know what was at stake. Depending on the severity of the planar event, the portal could be anything from a singular beast summon to a towering rift capable of altering the local essence signature for years to come. He didn¡¯t even have enough experience with these type of situations to know how long he had before the ritual finished. If they were really unlucky, the kobalds had coordinated with forces on the other side and this was a prelude to an extra-planar invasion. However, that was extremely unlikely. As if the world were mocking him for his ill-advised hope, he felt the ground shudder as an explosion toppled several trees, allowing him to see the ritual happening off in the distance. Like a glowing beacon of doom, he saw reality tearing as a portal to another plane began to take shape. The sound of its arrival rattled the entire area, and all too quickly he saw the newborn rift beginning grow. Not two seconds later, he heard the voice from command resume talking, ¡°S.T. 24, Your orders are to do whatever you can to disrupt that ritual. We have confirmation that it is, in fact, a rift. Reinforcements are on the way, but they will be called back if that portal opens. The force heading your way is not prepared to face an organized invasion, and I repeat¡­ They will be called back to the walls if that ritual completes. Do you understand?¡± He could hear the woman¡¯s poorly hidden panic being projected through the connection quite clearly. Obviously alarms were blaring all over the place in Dorchester. Taking a deep breathe, Captain Angelton processed what he¡¯d just heard. Command was sending them to their deaths. It made sense, and he didn¡¯t fault them for it. It wasn¡¯t like they¡¯d live if the rift opens and the mountainside was overrun with kobalds. They couldn¡¯t run away, and perhaps this way, their death could serve a greater purpose for Dorchester. ¡°I understand. We¡¯ll get it done. S.T. 24 out,¡± he said, then closed the connection completely. Any more talking would be pointless, and a waste of his limited time. While part of his mind reached out to his sergeants in order to start organizing the assault, he locked eyes with Specialist Howard. He could see the man eagerly waiting for orders. ¡°If we get you close enough, can you stop that rift from opening?¡± asked the captain. Specialist Howard¡¯s eye widened in surprise. His voice sounded a little unsure when he replied, ¡°Possibly, if you give me enough time to study it. But stopping it before it fully manifests? Not likely. I¡¯d feel a lot better about our chances if we had someone familiar with inter-planar essence man-¡± he paused abruptly, then grinned widely and continued, ¡°Verena should be able to do it. The man was a director at one of the Center-Research facilities. I¡¯m sure he¡¯s at least read about the procedure.¡± Captain Angelton nodded in agreement, but didn¡¯t bother replying. Turning to face the rift in the distance, he pulled his sword, hefted his shield, infused essence into his voice, and loudly ordered, ¡°Collapse!¡± ----- The chaos all around him was making his head spin. The elites on both sides were so close that he was having trouble not bumping into them. At one point, by reflex, he removed the sword arm of a kobald currently in melee with the elite on his right. After resuming his fight with the kobald in front of him, Nero thought to himself, ¡°No, it¡¯s cool, don¡¯t bother to thank me.¡± If it weren¡¯t for his mage-armor, he¡¯d have definitely been clipped a few times by enemy weapons. Luckily, it didn¡¯t seem like any of the kobalds were very skilled at essence infusion, and his protection was more than capable of handling a few hits. Though, that didn¡¯t stop them from trying to stab him to death. He¡¯d lost count of how many times he¡¯d rebuilt his mage-armor after it had started falling apart under the pressure of the enemy¡¯s blades. It felt like it was getting easier to form it, but it was also taking more concentration to keep it running. The balancing act between how much focus he was dedicating to the technique was delicate, but he felt like he was handing it well enough. Nero was careful to not impede his fighting ability, or allow himself to get too distracted. Luckily, it wasn¡¯t like these kobalds were any more skilled than the ones he¡¯d been fighting before, but down here there were just so many more of them. Every time he killed one, another one was right there, eagerly waiting to take its shot at killing him. Occasionally there were some better equipped kobalds, even ones who had actual armor. He even saw one with a chain-mail shirt so big that it went down to its knees. Had the ridiculously dressed kobald not been trying to kill him at the time, Nero might have laughed at the sight of the little bugger. As far as he could tell, there were only two positives about the situation. One, there weren¡¯t too many of the giant lizards around, so he didn¡¯t have to worry about being physically overpowered. And two, between the shields protecting the elites from the spells coming down on them from above, and how dense the fighting was, he didn¡¯t need to worry about enemy spell-casters. Despite having promised himself to pay closer attention to his internal clock, he had no clue how long this particular stage of the fighting had been going on. It could have been ten minutes, or an hour. But one thing was for sure, there was no way they could keep this up indefinitely. Eventually, they would start taking casualties. In fact, they already might have, and he just hadn¡¯t seen it. Between managing his mage-armor, and killing kobalds, he didn¡¯t have the available brain power to monitor what was happening with the rest of the elites. His entire focus was split between the fight in front of him and the upkeep on the mage-armor. The longer the fight went on, the more effort it took to hold his mind together. So it came as a complete shock when he felt the back of his tunic ball up in someone¡¯s fist and he was yanked back into the center of the formation. Feeling his feet leave the ground, he saw another elite smoothly step in to take his place on the fighting line. Stolen content alert: this content belongs on Royal Road. Report any occurrences. Stumbling a little, he had to stop himself from lashing out with his sword at whoever had just grabbed him. What little control he had over his attention span snapped like a thread, and he felt like he had been dunked in a tank of stupid-juice. Luckily, he was able to understand whoever it was that was currently shouting loudly enough to be heard over the sounds of battle, directly into his ear, ¡°Walker! You¡¯re needed up at the front! Let¡¯s go!¡± All around him, he felt the elites participating in the battle. Every one of them was shooting arrows over the heads of the melee fighters, tossing spears, and some were even casting spells. He felt himself being dragged by his neck through the crowd, barely able to keep his feet on the ground. Whoever it was that was leading him clearly wasn¡¯t concerned about Nero¡¯s comfort. Had he been more aware, Nero would have found it extremely humiliating to be manhandled like a bully being dragged to the principal¡¯s office. The trip didn¡¯t take long, and Nero managed to repress the urge to hamstring the bastard, mostly because he didn¡¯t really understand why he wanted to. He could feel his thoughts becoming more and more scattered, but he couldn¡¯t remember what to do about it. ¡®The last time this happened was with the butterflies, right? Something is screwing with my concentration I think?¡¯ he thought to himself, vaguely recalling one of his initial attempts to control his essence shield. With his head still forcibly pointed at the ground, he heard the elite escorting him shout, ¡°Captain! I found him!¡± Nero felt himself being shoved forward, and he waved his arms to stop himself from falling over. Luckily, he was able to keep hold of his sword and shield when he felt his shoulders being gripped by hands large enough to crush his head. Feeling himself come to a complete stop for the first time in a while, Nero looked up to see the towering Captain Angelton staring down at him like an all-powerful war-god about to pass judgment. All thoughts about what was causing his brain to misfire were pushed to the back of his mind at the sight of the man. The captain¡¯s gray eyes and blank expression nearly made Nero¡¯s buckle in fear. Completely ignoring what the man was saying, Nero looked the man over. He couldn''t help but note the ripped tabard and nearly destroyed armor. From head to toe, the man was covered in blood and mud. It was obvious that the man had been through hell. Yet from his posture, the captain totally looked ready for more. ¡®Holy shit this dude¡¯s a bad-ass. I wonder how many kobalds he¡¯s killed today? I bet -¡± his thoughts were interrupted by the captain. Nero felt the man shake his shoulders and lightly slap him across the face to get him to focus. Unfortunately, a light slap from a man like the captain was more than enough to completely obliterate Nero¡¯s mage-armor. The mental backlash he felt from the spell being overpowered nearly sent him to his knees. After a second or two, Nero came back to his senses and realized that the captain was trying to get his attention. ¡°Walker! Can you do it?!?¡± he shouted directly in Nero¡¯s face, his tone demonstrating how serious the situation was. As his mind was rebooting from having over half of his available brainpower dedicated to maintaining his mage-armor, he was still a little confused when he asked, ¡°Can I do what?¡± Leaning back as far as possible, Nero marveled at the fact that the man was so tall it was hard to make eye contact without straining his neck. The captain held the young man¡¯s shoulders in a vice-grip, nearly tipping him over, forcing Nero to look him in the eye. ¡°Verena says you can disrupt an active rift. If we get you close enough, can you do it?¡± he asked sternly. Nero felt his butt-hole pucker like he was being asked to diffuse a nuclear time-bomb. The sounds and smells of the battlefield once more started to make sense, and the reality of the situation started bearing down on him. The life and death stakes were once again something he had to contend with. ¡°Uh¡­ I guess I could take a look,¡± he said, trying and failing to offer his patented smirk. Apparently the captain was done talking, and Nero felt himself being dragged forward again. This time, the captain had actually lifted him up by his combat leathers, and Nero could feel the edges of his armor digging into his armpits. He felt like a toddler being picked up by his father holding him at arm¡¯s length due to a diaper incident. Luckily, the extra height provided him an actual view of the battle. Where before he was too short to see much of anything, now he was able to look over people¡¯s shoulders to see a massive hole in reality filling the surrounding area with a hostile red light. With his mind running at full power once again, he was able to start taking stock of what was going on around him. Looking up, he estimated the top edge of the portal to be at least 100ft tall, and the edges were so far apart that he couldn¡¯t see the sides. The view through the portal showed him a completely different world, an alien world. He could see volcanoes far off into the distance, an orange overcast sky, and red soil and ash billowing outward through the portal like hot air from a kiln. He hadn¡¯t realized that the red light he had been seeing all around him had been coming from the rift. He¡¯d thought it was the blood and death affecting his perception of reality, but it was actually just a massive hole in space connecting them to what he will now-and-forever refer to as ¡®the reason kobalds are so willing to die¡¯. ¡®I¡¯d probably do the same if my homeland looked like that. What a shitty place to live. It¡¯s like people that choose to live Ohio,¡¯ he thought to himself, remembering the time he had to drive through the entire state. Never in his life had he seen so little, for so long. Then he remembered driving through the middle of Illinois, his home-state, and suddenly felt like changing the subject. Pushing aside his instinctual sarcastic response to intense situations. He grit his teeth and focused on the situation at hand. He realized he was viewing the rift through blue tinted panes of energy, all the while seeing arrows and spells being held back the spell-shields floating above him. The pace of combat hadn¡¯t diminished in the least, but now that he was being carried through the formation like a baton, he was given the unfortunate chance to really take in the insanity going on all around him. ¡®This is a real full-on tower control scenario! Invading monsters coming through a magic portal being held back by the soldiers of humanity with nothing but spells and steel! Their only hope for victory is taking over the portal and reclaiming the zone,¡¯ he thought to himself. Even though he fully recognized the danger, he couldn¡¯t help but feel some excitement at the idea of a dork like him being given the opportunity to experience something he¡¯d always fantasized about. While Nero was appreciating the fact that he was living his dream, he was dragged closer to the rift. The closer he got, the more he could see. Eventually he was able to look out onto an endless horde of kobalds trying to force their way through the portal. The rift was so wide, the elites weren¡¯t able to stop the edges from coming through. From what he could see, they were barely stopping a third of the kobalds from making it through the rift. Even worse, he could see more of those kaiju-sized lizards being herded in the distance, along with several groups of the larger kobalds, mages, and shamans. All of them making their way toward the portal. Suddenly, he felt gravity reassert itself as the captain let him go. Dropping to his feet, Nero shook his shoulders to loosen up the bunched up leathers while looking over at the captain and glaring at the man¡¯s shoulder. Angelton had already turned away and was currently shouting orders to the rest of the troops. Feeling yet another person grab him by the shoulders, he snapped his head around to see Nick¡¯s panicked face staring at him with hope in his eyes. Not two feet from Nero¡¯s face, Nick shouted, ¡°Nero, you have to disrupt the essence tether connecting the planes. I¡¯m almost positive it hasn¡¯t had time to solidify, so I think you can do it. Just concentrate and do your best. I believe in you.¡± Nero grimaced at his friend and replied, ¡°Look man, this is not where our story ends. Stop being a bitch.¡± Nick¡¯s grip on Nero¡¯s shoulders faltered, and he looked at Nero in shock. A second or two passed, and then Nick burst into laughter. The wonderful sight of the blood covered man laughing like a mad-man as spells exploded overhead was enough for Nero to remember how to grin. Swatting Nick¡¯s hands off his shoulders, Nero said, ¡°All right. Give me a sec, and don¡¯t let anyone bother me¡­ or kill me.¡± He then closed his eyes and let his essence field expand with the aid of his full concentration. The sight of the battle suddenly became clear in his head. It was like switching an over-head pov in a game. All at once, he was perfectly aware of how badly they were fucked. It was like the elites were a small huddle of giants surrounded by an endless army of screaming children hell-bent on killing them. Seeing how many kobalds were able to come through the sides of the portal, he remembered that he hadn¡¯t seen the first kaiju that was there when the rift was first opening. Had he missed it when it emerged? ¡®I really need to work on keeping my I.Q. above 50 while I¡¯m using mage-armor. The damn thing is useless if it saves my life while turning me into a robot,¡¯ he told himself. He looked over at Nick and asked, ¡°What happened to the first big-ass lizard?¡± Nick¡¯s face twisted in a grimace, and he replied, ¡°We weren¡¯t able to stop it. At least 10 of those siege-wyrms have already come through, and who knows how many foot-soldiers, mages, and shamans. All we can do now is close the rift as soon as possible, cutting off as many as we can, and then hope for the best. The only reason we¡¯re still alive is because we¡¯re surrounded and the kobalds are more interested in getting more troops through the portal than killing us at the moment. But that doesn¡¯t matter right now. Nero, can you see the tether?¡± Shocked at how much he had missed, and how bad things were going, he replied, ¡°Uh, yeah. Give me a second.¡± Closing his eyes and refocusing on his perception field, he thought to himself, ¡®OK. So when I close this bitch I don¡¯t think the kobalds are going to be very happy about it. Eh, I¡¯m sure we¡¯ve been fighting long enough for the reinforcements to get here before the little bastards manage to finish us off. As the great Malcolm Reynolds once said¡­ something about being too good looking to die. God damn do I miss the internet.¡¯ Chapter 152 - Nero has a very particular set of skills. Nick jogged forward, moving with the team to join the rest of the elites. He kept one eye on the kobalds, hoping they stayed preoccupied with the portal. The entire field full of immobile enemies reminded him of some of the open-air lectures he¡¯d attended, hundreds of students just waiting for the guest speaker to arrive. Specialist Howard caught his attention with a mental push against his essence field, and he turned to see the man waving him over. The thought didn¡¯t even occur to him to tell Wesker that he was leaving before he made his way toward the front of the quickly assembling formation. The moment he approached the specialist, Nick asked, ¡°Are we retreating up the mountain? How can I help?¡± Howard shook his head, his face grim as he replied, ¡°No. We¡¯re going in. Do you know how to interrupt, or better yet, close a ritual summoning?¡± Nick didn¡¯t think about what the question implied, as he was a little preoccupied with the fact that they were not going to be retreating, so he replied completely by instinct, ¡°Of course I do! There are countless methods to disrupt a planar event, regardless of the causal event preceding it. The mos-¡± Midway through his sentence, Specialist Howard grabbed his arm and started dragging him toward the are right behind the front of the formation. He frowned at the back of the man¡¯s head, unhappy with the fact that Howard¡¯s rude behavior almost made him bite his tongue. Suddenly the understanding of why the specialist had asked that question occurred to him, and his mouth dropped open in shock. As they took their places behind the first line of elites being led by Captain Angelton, Nick turned to Howard and hissed, ¡°Wait just a damn minute! Just because I know the theory doesn¡¯t mean I¡¯m practiced in the application. I¡¯ve never interrupted an active ritual! And I¡¯ve certainly never disrupted a planar rift while it was forming! Are you out of your mind!?! We have to get out of here! Do you understand what might be coming through that thing!¡± While he was complaining, the rest of the elites were ignoring him and doing their last second equipment checks. By the time he finished his rant, everyone was ready to move. Specialist Howard looked him in the eye and said, ¡°We¡¯re going down there, and you¡¯re going to do what you have to do to disrupt that ritual. We cannot let them open that rift, and if we happen to fail, then we¡¯re the ones who are going to close it. All of Dorchester is counting on us, and I¡¯ll be damned to the hells if we let them down. We¡¯re soldiers of Oglivarch, and you had better remember that!¡± Nick didn¡¯t know what to say in response to the specialist¡¯s tirade. He was having trouble remembering why he was out here. Everything over the past two months had just been one thing after another that caused him to constantly be reevaluating his life choices. How did he, a researcher, end up on the front lines of a war against an inter-planar invasion? Before Nick was able to come to terms with his internal musings, they were moving. He gripped his spear tightly and watched as the elites around him made their way down the mountainside at a jog. The melee fighters in the front were ripping the kobalds to shreds, while the support core was maintaining poorly constructed shields over their head. Looking up, he cast a critical eye over the blue panels of spell-wrought essence construction. It was lucky the kobalds were so primitive in their application of magic, or he and the rest of the elites would really be in trouble. He made sure to keep his feet under him, as kobald bodies were beginning to appear on the ground and he was forced to hop over them at a jog. He could see that most of the dead kobalds were a result of the captain¡¯s ingenious use of what was obviously some type of defensive-pillar shield ability. ¡®That man is incredibly talented. To be able to apply a defensive ability with the intent to cause damage is a rare achievement. The fact that his ability maintains cohesion under these conditions is a testament to his willpower and personal beliefs. He must ¡®believe¡¯ that his actions are truly in defense of something for the shields to work like they do. Seeing a divergent ability application is indeed fascinating,¡¯ he thought. Not wanting to waste his spear by throwing it into the horde, he occasionally cast a ¡®plasma-bloom¡¯ whenever he saw the kobalds grouping up. It was surprisingly easy to get through their essence fields, and he could only conclude that these kobalds were all incredibly young, and as a result, incredibly weak. As they got closer to the ritual site, he could see the rift growing quickly in the material plane. Depending on how large a rift the kobalds intended to grow, they most likely weren¡¯t going to make it in time to stop it. On his left, he saw Specialist Howard launching some personalized version of ¡®liquid-fire-lances¡¯ from several hovering spell-forms he¡¯d anchored to his essence field. To Nick, it was an impressive bit of war magic. Not many mages were capable of maintaining multiple spell-forms like that, and even fewer were able to anchor them to their essence fields. ¡®The strain on his reserves must be immense,¡¯ he thought to himself, as he watched the man mow down tens of kobalds at a time. Seeing as they were almost at the rift, he could see several shamans holding up their staffs and chanting in a half-circle in front of it. However, between them stood several rows of the larger kobalds, and several robed spell-casters. ¡®I believe the large ones are called ¡®commanders¡¯ and the spell-casters are referred to as ¡®arcanists¡¯ if I remember correctly,¡¯ he remarked to himself with some interest. Like a hammer slamming into an anvil, the front wedge of the elite formation collided with the kobald¡¯s defensive line. The fighting was very different than what they¡¯d gotten used to. Nick could see that the elite¡¯s forward progress had been completely halted. While part of his attention was on helping the melee fighters in front of him by using basic support spells like ¡®healing¡¯, ¡®flash-shield¡¯, and ¡®confusion¡¯, most of his attention was on the rift currently growing behind the kobald lines. As they were only 20 or 30 units away, he was just close enough to get a relatively good read on what was happening. He could see the shamans funneling the potential from the dead kobalds into the spell-array on the ground in front of them. Even though he couldn¡¯t see the runic script on the array, he was surprised to see that it was laid out on what looked like large paving stones. ¡®They must have etched the spell-array by hand into the stone tiles and then spent months imbuing them with essence in order to prepare for this ritual. How long have they been preparing?¡¯ he wondered. Using his perception field to feel around the growing rift, he tried to get a sense of how it was connected to the material plane. Ignored the sensations from the foreign essence, he completely focused on finding the approximate location of tether point. If he was lucky, it would still be weak enough to be disrupted by an ¡®isolative ether-shock¡¯. His efforts were hindered by his essence-shield being hit by an arrow, and the resulting mental poke was enough to cause his attention to drift. Mentally growling in annoyance, he reinforced the shield¡¯s identity matrix then returned to his examination of the rift. He was forced by circumstance to trust the elites around him to protect him while he was working. ¡®There it is!¡¯ he thought in excitement. ¡®Now all I have to do is divert the incoming stream of essence from the shamans, then I can begin inverting the weave projected from the spell-array. As long as I¡¯m able to isolate the section where the tether originates, then I shouldn¡¯t have any problems,¡¯ he said to himself, mentally planning his next few steps. Alas, his efforts were in vain, because just as he touched the shamans¡¯ ritual stream, he felt the spell-array emit a feedback pulse signaling the completion of the spell. ¡®Oh, no,¡¯ he said. He could feel the essence around the tether grow wilder, as it was now pulling essence from the other side of the rift as well as the ethereal plane on this side of the portal. It had become self sustaining, and he could no longer disrupt it on his own. Without a group of mages working together to supress it, the tether would continue to grow until it solidified. Stolen content warning: this tale belongs on Royal Road. Report any occurrences elsewhere. Looking up at the now giant portal, he saw the siege-wym that had been itching to come through finally make its appearance. At least 70 units high, it ducked its head in order to fit through the growing portal. Lucky for them, it didn¡¯t seem to care that they were there, its only interest being crossing over so it could head off somewhere to cause havoc. He watched the massive beast lumber forward, the side of the beast large enough to fill his entire eye-line. Nick heard Specialist Howard shout, ¡°Dammit Verena! Close the damn portal!¡± Turning to look at the man, Nick replied, ¡°I¡¯m sorry Howard, I¡¯m not sure that I can. The spell-array completed the spell-form. Everything happening now is fueled by the planar connection. It¡¯s too big for me to disrupt at this point. It¡¯s going to take at least 5 mages to isolate the area around the tether and I don¡¯t think there are any mages here skilled in combination casting, are there?¡± Specialist Howard¡¯s face fell, and his floating spell-forms went silent. ¡°No, there aren¡¯t any combination teams here. I might be able to follow the pattern if you are in charge of weaving the flows, but it¡¯s not really my area of expertise. Is there really nothing we can do?¡± Nick looked around, seeing the elites fighting for their lives, and he felt like screaming in frustration. He knew how to fix the problem, he just didn¡¯t have what he needed to do it. It was infuriating. He refused to believe there wasn¡¯t a solution to be found. His eyes were hard when he stared at Specialist Howard, saying, ¡°You just keep killing kobalds, and give me some time to think.¡± Specialist Howard pointed up at the portal and said, ¡°Every minute we delay, that portal grows bigger and more enemy troops come through. So, think fast researcher!¡± Nick grimaced at the sight of another large siege-wyrm making its way through the portal, likely heading off to join its brethren in preparing their assault on Dorchester¡¯s walls. All he could do was take a deep breathe, close his eyes, and focus on the problem. He reached out with his perception field, and tried to find the best path forward. ----- Nero¡¯s perception field stretched out, showing him the ethereal plane in all its glory. He could see the essence flows from the ethereal plane on this side of the portal mingling with the flows coming through the portal. If he mentally backed up and looked at the bigger picture, he could almost see the surrounding identity of the mountainside changing in response to the new identities being injected into the local environment. Not letting himself be distracted, he focused on trying to locate the ¡®tether¡¯ Nick wanted him to find. He didn¡¯t exactly know what to look for, but it seemed rather self-explanatory. So, he started by following the flows. He discarded any flow that wasn¡¯t being pulled, or manipulated by exterior forces. Then he eliminated anything that was calling out for attention. He figured that if the flows were actively being used, they wouldn¡¯t be radiating an identity for him to look at. After all, it wasn¡¯t like he could analyze a spell after it was cast, so he figured the theory was sound. Next, was the hard part. He felt like he was trying to follow tracks on cement, looking for what wasn¡¯t there. In the middle of the battle, surrounded by elites, he stood there with his eyes closed and concentrated. He ignored everything going on around him, and put all his focus into his mind probe until it almost took physical shape. If he were a hippy, he¡¯d say that he was ¡®actively ignoring the concerns of the flesh to focus on the metaphysical¡¯, but he wasn¡¯t. Besides, he was too busy concentrating to be philisophical. ¡®There you are,¡¯ he thought, his mental voice almost absent of emotion. Nero saw the large web of invisible essence radiating out in spokes toward the edges, while large trunks of hidden flows led off into the distance all around him. The abnormal essence flows looked like hollow tubes disrupting the standard flows throughout the ether. Following them back to the center, he saw the hole in reality for what it was, an incredibly dense knot of essence imbued with a singular purpose. Its identity was so strong that it was like a ¡®law¡¯ written into the ether, forcing the material plane underneath it to bow to its will. His mental probe approached the knot carefully, trying to get a sense of the essence that was knotted so tightly it almost looked like empty space. Yet, the closer he got, the better he could see it. Until finally, he touched it and his entire world fell away. He once again found himself in that space between realities. Yet this time, he was protected from the void by the tunnel around him. Even wierder, he could still feel the connection to his body. ¡®Ah, I get it. Both ends of the tunnel are open. I¡¯m looking at the connection between the ethereal planes. I bet I only lost the connection with my body at the spawner because there wasn¡¯t a portal component there. I wonder what would happen if I broke the tunnel from the inside?¡¯ he wondered, and then promptly chided himself for considering something so stupid. The sight of the blackness all around him was off-putting. It wasn¡¯t dark, there was just nothing to see, even though he could also tell that the entire place was filled with nothing but essence and potential. It was like being inside a clear straw, surrounded by invisible jello. He was sure that if Nick were here, the man would get a kick out of it. Dismissing the thought as irrelevant, he turned around and returned to reality. While not fully returning to his body, he let himself feel enough to connect back to his physical senses. As he suspected, his body was still standing there like a post, completely static and with a slack-jawed look on its face. After taking a moment to clear his throat, he kept his eyes closed but asked loudly, ¡°Hey Nick, I found the connection point, now what?¡± Nick¡¯s voice sounded excited, and a little in awe, ¡°What¡¯s it look like? NO! Don¡¯t answer that right now. But, that¡¯s amazing, you can actually ¡®see¡¯ the connection point?¡± Not wanting to get into it, Nero replied, ¡°More or less. What do I do with it?¡± Nick didn¡¯t waste any more time with his questions, and said, ¡°Alright, first you have to squeeze the essence flows that are powering it. If you¡¯re doing it right, you¡¯ll see the tether begin to shrink and loose cohesion. Once that happens, there are a lot of ways to go about it, but you¡¯re ultimate goal is to burst the tether. You need to break the connection point, how you do it is up to you. I don¡¯t think the method of ¡®essence flooding¡¯, or even ¡®localized disruption¡¯ are worth explaining to you. Both of them rely on ancillary effects that cause the tether to destabilize as a result of the technique. I¡¯m hoping you can act on the tether in a more direct fashion, thereby bypassing the need for multiple mages working in concert. Do you understand?¡± he asked. Nero had started working the moment Nick had told him to ¡®squeeze the essence flows¡¯. As a result, Nero was barely listening to the man by the time he stopped talking. It wasn¡¯t difficult to find the connection points around the tether¡¯s knot. The problem for Nero was that he didn¡¯t understand which points were going in, and which ones were going out. To him, the flows were nearly invisible and he didn¡¯t feel like it was all that necessary to waste time investigating them one at a time. So, instead, he just gripped all of the essence around the tether, and tried squeezing. At first, it felt like he was stepping on a fire hose, the pressure was so strong his efforts proved futile. Refusing to be deterred, he shrunk the area he was mentally gripping, and confined his efforts to a thin shell around the tether. Curious as to what would happen, he compressed some of the ambient essence into a smaller sphere, and he was surprised to feel like he had somehow ¡®firmed¡¯ up his grip. Hearing Nick ask, ¡°Nero? Can you hear me? Are you having any problems?¡± Nero replied with a smile, ¡°Yeah, I heard you. I got it.¡± All at once, he collapsed his grip as hard as he could, and he felt the flows connecting the tether snap like they¡¯d been clipped by a pair of scissors. It was like a flailing-spaghetti-explosion in the ether. The flows that were leading to the tether whipped around like the ends of a taught bow-string after it snapped. Hundreds of essence flows became visible in the ether, and he watched as the entire rift lost cohesion. He didn¡¯t ¡®close¡¯ the rift, he shredded it. The edges of the rift blew apart like paper, and the hole in reality seemed to forget what it was doing there, and decided to go home. Viewing what was happening through the material plane, the sight was almost unbelievable. The 100ft tall portal seemed to explode into dust, as if it were nothing but a delicate piece of glass hit with a massive sound wave powerful enough to atomize it. On the physical plane, the area around the tether seemed to shrink like suction bomb went off. The kobalds in the area screeched like they were being pulled apart and the resulting area returned to the pristine forest it was before the ritual. There were even a few trees and bushes which reappeared as if they had always been there. The entire battle field paused. The whole event had taken only a second, and no one seemed to understand what had just happened. Gone was the red tinted sunlight, the ash in the air was already dissipating, and even the scent of the forest seemed to be returning. Nero, having seen the event from the perspective of the ethereal plane, realized what he¡¯d done. By severing all the connections on this side of the tether, the connection snapped back to the other side. He wasn¡¯t sure how he knew, but he was sure the other side of the portal would be receiving all of the portal¡¯s energy in an explosive wave blasting into their plane of existence. He could almost imagine the gigantic explosion reminiscent of a nuclear bomb going off. Opening his eyes, he turned to see Nick standing there in complete shock, staring at the empty space which used to have a giant portal in it. With a grin, he said, ¡°Nick, you¡¯re not going to believe what I did to the kobalds back in the ¡®I don¡¯t wanna live here anymore¡¯ plane of existence.¡± As if Nero speaking out loud reminded everyone around him that they were still in a war, several elites that were standing around him began murdering the stunned kobalds. Before long, the battle was back on, and the elites found themselves surrounded by thousands of kobalds, all of whom were incredibly pissed about their portal being closed. Without being on the front-line, Nero couldn¡¯t see much of what was happening with his eyes, and he wasn¡¯t really sure what he should be doing. However seeing Nick casting spells, he figured he could finally start contributing to the fight in the manner he always wanted to. ¡®Time to be a mage,¡¯ he thought with a smile. Chapter 153 - They did what now? General Branson strode into the conference room with a grim look on his face. The situation was rapidly becoming more than they could handle. ¡®How are they already prepared with invasion rifts? How long have they been planning this?¡¯ he wondered. Taking his place at the head of the table, he glared at the commanders re-taking their seats. Normally, the respectful atmosphere was appreciated, but wasn¡¯t currently in the mood for it. As a result of his poor mood, his voice was unusually harsh when he barked, ¡°All right, I¡¯ve read the reports, but I want to hear what happened from the beginning. Explain to me, in detail, what in the infinite hells is happening outside our walls.¡± One of the commanders shot to his feet, then waved his hand and several holographic screens appeared hovering over the large conference table. Below them, a 3d model of the mountain appeared, complete with a rendering of the city near the bottom. The model seemed to zoom-in until only one area small area was highlighted. The commander¡¯s tone was devoid of levity as he began his presentation, ¡°Approximately three hours ago, Survey Team 24 began construction on their primary base-camp. At that time, everything checked out fine. The location, potential site A, was confirmed empty of enemy forces, and the team¡¯s captain proceeded according to his orders. ¡°Two hours later, as the team was still working on the preliminary wall and communications tower, one of ST 24¡¯s soldiers was somehow able to perceive an enemy force hidden behind an illusionary field. Once they -¡± General Branson¡¯s voice interrupted harshly, ¡°That! That right there! I want you to elaborate on that. How did some soldier manage to scry through the kobald¡¯s damn masking spell when our very own Tower of Magic can¡¯t?¡± The commander¡¯s professional mask didn¡¯t crack in the slightest, and he replied simply, ¡°We have no idea, sir.¡± Not liking the answer at all, the general rubbed his temples and tried to calm down. Whatever the kobalds had been doing to hide their forces was something that had been giving him a headache ever since this all began. The Tower of Magic didn¡¯t have any answers, and that damn Arch-mage refused to offer any insights without an official request for aid. Although he understood the principle behind the separation of city and kingdom, he didn¡¯t have to like it. Despite the legalities involved, the fact that the man was willing to sit on his ass and watch as the kobalds played them all for fools, all the while refusing to provide any answers was almost more than he could take. After seeing that the general wasn¡¯t going to say anything else, the commander continued, ¡°When the enemy realized that their deception had been seen through, they attacked. The captain on-site, Captain Angelton, reported contact and requested support. As ST 24¡¯s location was rather close to the walls, reinforcements began gathering.¡± The general¡¯s eyebrows rose in surprise. He hadn¡¯t bothered to read the details of ST 24¡¯s troop compliment. ¡®It was Angelton¡¯s team? Howard was with them, wasn¡¯t he? Perhaps a war-mage in close proximity to the illusion was enough to disrupt it. It¡¯s too bad we¡¯ll probably never find out,¡¯ he thought to himself. The commander¡¯s presentation continued, ¡°The Tower of Magic was immediately informed of what was happening, and our surveillance mages activated the scrying apparatus at full power, providing real-time intelligence at ST 24¡¯s location. Even with all the essence disruptions causing some problems, we were able to get a good idea of what is happening. As you can see, the enemy force is significant,¡± he said, while gesturing to the recorded images being shown on the holographic screens. One of the screens grew in size, and the commander said, ¡°If you look here, you¡¯ll see that the enemy forces were hiding in an artificial tunnel they had dug out from the mountain. We currently are unable to see how far down it goes, but we have reason to believe it was their intention for their forces to specifically reach the wilds.¡± The general examined the screen closely, frowning at how many kobalds were streaming out of the mountain¡¯s depths. He once again interrupted the commander by asking loudly, ¡°Why were they trying to get to the wilds?¡± The commander seemed to be expecting the question, and promptly switched out the primary screen¡¯s image. ¡°We believe it was because of this,¡± he said. The holographic screen now showed an overhead view of several large paving stones being arranged with some difficulty by the kobalds. On the stones, clearly displayed, were runic carving indicating some sort of spell-array. ¡°We cross-referenced the completed array with the records of previous kobald sightings in the archives of the Tower of Magic. It was determined that the spell-array closely resembles other array¡¯s inteded to form a planar gate. We believe the original intention of the array was to link the mountain-city with their ancestral home,¡± he said. The general pointed at one of the screens which now showed a giant rift portal to one of the fire-planes, and said harshly, ¡°That is NOT a planar gate.¡± Replying quickly, the commander said, ¡°No, sir. It¡¯s not. The spell-array isn¡¯t viable as it is. We believe that the kobalds intended to take advantage of the region¡¯s ethereal instability in order to make-up for their limited magical capabilities. With the aid of their shamans, they siphoned off the souls of their dead to provide enough potential to activate the array. As the wilds were primed for it, the array was able to open a rift. It may not be the gate they¡¯d hoped it would be, but it serves their purpose well enough.¡± Changing the projection once again, he continued, ¡°As you can see, their forces on the other side were not prepared for the rift to open at this time, and they are currently just trying to come through as fast as they can. This is in no way a coordinated invasion, and their forces are wasting a lot of time attempting to get themselves in order now that they¡¯ve arrived on our plane.¡± Nodding at the commanders conclusion, the general asked, ¡°I see what you mean. This whole situation seems either poorly executed, or possibly unplanned. I don¡¯t think they prepared for their invasion to start like this.¡± The commander replied, ¡°No, sir. After careful analysis of what we¡¯ve seen, we believe we¡¯ve figured out their endgame.¡± Interested, the general asked, ¡°Which is?¡± Folding his hands at his waist, the commander stood up straight and said, ¡°Most likely, there are several of these exit tunnels currently being hidden outside the walls. At some time in the future, the kobalds were planning to unleash their forces all at once. Instead of dealing with one invasion point, we¡¯d be dealing with several. It¡¯s possible that they already have a gate open in the mountain city, and these rifts are just a means to terraform the surface and deliver their siege toops without having to fight through our defensive lines currently guarding the mountain gate.¡± The general sat in thought, unhappy with what he was hearing. The possibility of enemy troops hiding in the mountains was the last thing Dorchester needed at the moment. Tapping his finger on the table as he thought through what he¡¯d heard, he looked up at the commander and asked, ¡°What does the Tower of Magic have to say about their inability to pierce the kobald¡¯s illusion spells?¡± The commander replied, ¡°They say it¡¯s not a spell, it¡¯s a technique. Somehow the kobalds are able to display a false identity over an area. In reality, they are just displaying a delayed view of what used to happening. What the ¡®illusion¡¯ is showing, is only what ¡®used¡¯ to be there. Currently, they are working on an upgrade to the scrying apparatus in the tower which should compensate for the false essence projection. Adept Newbanks promises that it will be complete within 3 weeks time.¡± The general recalled what the arch-mage had told him, ¡°Dorchester already has all the tools needed to overcome this challenge, but if you¡¯d like to request aid, then I¡¯ll back your play. However, I¡¯d seriously recommend waiting to see how this little game progresses before you make any rash decisions. After all, the last thing you want to do is to sacrifice the city in the hopes of saving it.¡± The commander gasped in shock, and muttered, ¡°That¡¯s impossible!¡± Unauthorized usage: this tale is on Amazon without the author''s consent. Report any sightings. His thoughts interrupted, the general looked up to see what the commander was talking about. He looked at one of the screens, showing the final moments of the rift breaking apart like a monster-corpse diffusing into the ether. Confused, the general asked, ¡°What happened? What am I looking at?¡± The commander stuttered a little, unsure of how to respond, ¡°I¡¯m not sure, sir. It seems that ST24 succeeded in their mission to close the rift? I think?¡± The general checked his link, quickly referencing the reports he¡¯d been given, then replied, ¡°In my summary it says that ST 24 was wiped out after the rift opened?¡± The commander was still staring dumbly at the holographic screen, and replied without looking away, ¡°We issued orders for them to try and prevent the summoning from happening, and just assumed that they¡¯d die during the attempt. But, it looks like they¡¯re still fighting¡­ and maybe winning?¡± The general took control of the screens with his link, then expanded the current view of the battlefield. He could see a small contingent of humans surrounded by a sea of kobalds. There were so many kobalds it was hard to see ST 24, and if it weren¡¯t for the spell blooms and shields covering their position, he probably wouldn¡¯t have been able to locate them at all. Zooming in, he watched them obliterating the kobalds in droves. All of the sudden, the amount of magic being unleashed caused the image to flicker. When it stabilized, he saw a hole in the kobald horde. As the smoke cleared, he could see an entire section of the horde had been wiped out. Seconds later, he saw another explosion occur on the other side, once again blurring the screen and making it hard to see what was happening. He couldn¡¯t help but grin at the sight of all the dead kobalds and the entirety of ST 24 making their way up the mountain and away from the site of the former rift. ¡®Howard really is one hell of a war-mage,¡¯ he thought to himself. With a satisfied grin, he said, ¡°Never write off the soldiers of Oglivarch. At least not until they¡¯ve been dead for a week and you¡¯ve thoroughly tested the body.¡± ----- Nero was about to start unleashing his personal brand of death when, through his perception field, he noticed some of the kobalds acting strangely. He could see several of the staff wielding lizards grouping up together, and whatever they were doing was beginning to affect the ambient essence. It was a lot like what happened before the rift started opening. Looking to his right, he saw Nick holding his hands palms up with his eyes closed. Above his head, there was a spell-form weaving itself into existence slowly. Fascinated, Nero took a moment to examine what the man was doing. At this distance, Nero could see the spell-form clearly, and it was marvelous. The spell-form¡¯s shape was completely unfamiliar to Nero, but he could tell by some of the flatter parts that it had some basis in elemental magic. Instead of the standard two dimensional spells, this one looked like a pyramid, with the base facing outward toward the kobalds. Nero watched as the spell-form snapped into place, then began slowly spinning. The flat base of the spell began emitting a beam of green light that raked across the kobalds like a scythe. While it moved slowly, the kobalds were packed so tightly that it didn¡¯t really matter. Nero was in awe of the destructive power, and turned his attention back to Nick with excitement dancing in his eyes. However, his enthusiasm dimmed a bit when he saw how exhausted Nick looked after his singular spell. Unfortunately, Nero didn¡¯t have time to wait for Nick to recover, so he said, ¡°Hey Nick, what¡¯s stopping the kobalds from opening another rift?¡± Nero watched Nick¡¯s eyes widen at the thought of another rift opening. Not bothering to reply, Nick forced his way through some of the elites, heading off to talk to someone, probably the captain. Nero watched him go, confused and a little annoyed at his friend¡¯s rude behavior. But, when it came down to it, he wasn¡¯t especially worried about it. After all, he had better things to do than deal with all the tactical bullshit. He was a mage, and his job was to kill the enemy. Rubbing his hands together, he looked around to make sure that he was still surrounded by the much taller elites. ¡®Ok, I don¡¯t want to say that you are all nothing but meat-shields¡­ but you guys keep standing there, between me and the kobalds while I take care of business,¡¯ he chuckled to himself. Closing his eyes, he surveyed the battlefield, watching the violence going on all around him with a cruel smile. His attention was caught by Specialist Howard and the man¡¯s spell-forms firing like turrets above him. Now that he was close enough, Nero spent a good 10 seconds just studying the new examples of combat casting. A lot of what he was seeing didn¡¯t make sense, but he could tell that most of it was unimportant. He probably didn¡¯t need to copy anything other than the energy projection and essence conversion sections. ¡®Oh, that section is probably the ¡®directional¡¯ part¡­ ok, that¡¯s important¡­ definitely need that,¡¯ he thought to himself as he pieced together what he needed for his spell. Before long, he¡¯d copied much of the specialist¡¯s spell work, or at least enough of it to try casting one of his own. He took his time and made sure that his ¡®new and brilliant¡¯ spell-form looked right before adding his center and attempting to fire it. Running his mental senses over the center-infused-runic-carving, he decided that it should most likely work as intended. Reassuring himself that his plan was a good one, he thought to himself, ¡®I don¡¯t see why they waste time making things so complicated.¡¯ With his personal cannon floating above his head in the ether, its tube-like shape resembling a giant Pringles can, he grinned like a maniac and shouted in his head, ¡®FIRE!¡¯ He filled the spell-form with his center, and watched as the surrounding essence was pulled in like water being sucked up into a shop-vac. His plan to utilize the same weird essence that the shamans were using seemed to be working exactly as he¡¯d hoped it would. In less than a second, the collected essence solidified and shot out in a bowling-ball sized orb of death over the heads of his fellow elites and into the kobald horde. He watched with glee as the white-orange ball of light smacked into the snout of one of the ¡®leader-type¡¯ lizards, and then exploded. The resulting ball of elemental destruction had all the flavors he¡¯d practiced with. There was steam, stone chips, fire, and even wind. He really hadn¡¯t put much thought into his spell. He¡¯d just concentrated on copying the containment sphere from good ¡®ole Howie, filled it with as much of the usual suspects as he could, then funneled in a bunch of the shaman¡¯s special essence to provide the power, and hoped for a positive result. After all, if all he is looking for is destruction, there wasn¡¯t much reason to focus on creation. Giggling, he checked his center reserves and saw that he¡¯d not even touched them. By only using the what was required to weave the spell, the only center he was really losing was in the spell-form, and all of that center he¡¯d be able to recapture, provided he was careful. Whatever the dead kobalds were spewing into the ether was proving just as effective as his own center for imbuing his spells with potential. ¡®These guys are really weak! I knew it!¡¯ he cheered in his head while charging another shot. Now that he¡¯d tested the prototype, it was time to let loose. Taking a good 5 seconds to charge before each shot, he started firing the tank-like rounds into the enemy with abandon. The resulting destruction was everything he¡¯d hoped it would be and more. Through his perception field, he watched as groups of kobalds were launched into the air, their body parts bathing their compatriots like rain. The ground shook under his feet every time one of his shells went off. As more and more kobalds died, the ether became saturated with what he could only assume was their unused soul-potential. This in turn provided him more ammo, which then provided more deaths, which then provided more ammo, and the cycle continued. The battlefield was reeling with his assault, and the fighting at the lines had died down significantly. No longer were the kobalds a dense sea of enemies, they were once again a hap-hazard mob of scattered lizards throwing themselves to their death. After a minute or two, he decided to up his game. Perhaps it was a little reckless, but he carefully imbued more center into his spell-form, watching it grow in size until he was having trouble holding it together. Taking a deep breath, he reactivated the spell and watched as it sucked in torrents of essence, lighting up the ether like a small star hovering above his head. Right before he lost control, he released the payload into the distance. This time, he¡¯d made sure to aim a good distance away from the lines, as he wasn¡¯t entirely sure what was going to happen. That turned out to be a good call, as the explosion was large enough to rattle his teeth, even from over 100 ft away. Since it was so far away, he was forced to cast a simple ¡®mud-wall¡¯ spell under his feet to raise his head high enough to be able to see the results of his handy-work. Even though it was few seconds later, he could still see the fires burning in the distance, and the giant divot he¡¯d carved into the mountain. His jaw dropped in awe of what he¡¯d accomplished. In addition to the hundred or so dead kobalds, there were countless others rolling around on the ground in pain. The entire flank had been cleared, and that side of the battlefield seemed to pause in anticipation of another volley. Even though he knew it was stupid to keep his head poking above his meat-shields, Nero still maintained the construct under his feet as he charged another spell. As he was now running two spells, he wasn¡¯t able to charge his cannon as much as last time, but he needed to see it fire at least once. Turning to the other side of the battle, he fired another round. He watched as the bean-bag chair sized ball of death launched into the distance like one of those giant inflatable balls at a concert, eagerly waiting to see what would happen when it landed. And sure enough, the explosion didn¡¯t disappoint. His ears rang with the sound of the explosion, then he felt the wind hit him in the face and blow his hair back. The light was enough to make his eyes hurt, but what really made him feel proud was the mini-mushroom cloud which appeared over the area for a second before the air currents broke it apart. ¡°Beautiful,¡± he muttered, his eyes almost tearing up with pride. His moment didn¡¯t last long, as he heard the captain¡¯s voice overpower the sounds of battle going on all around him. ¡°Elites! Prepare to move! Stay in formation, and follow the soldier in front of you. Keep those shields up, and leave no one behind! For Dorchester!¡± While everyone cheered and screamed in reply to the captain¡¯s declaration, Nero grimaced in annoyance. His spell was powerful, but he didn¡¯t have the mental strength to move with it, therefore he¡¯d have to dismiss it. Luckily, it wasn¡¯t hard to recover the center he¡¯d imbued it with. In less than a second, the mud construct under his feet had vanished, and he found himself hidden under a sea of elites once again. Muttering to himself in irritation, he dismissed the spell. ¡®I¡¯m gonna have to figure out how Specialist Howie is anchoring his spells to his essence field. I¡¯m not sure I can go back to casting stone spikes after perfecting what shall be forever hence known as: ¡®the glass cannon¡¯. On the plus side, we might actually survive this shit-show¡­ so I¡¯ve got that going for me,¡¯ he told himself, trying to look on the bright side. Chapter 154 - Retreating when youre not on the front lines. After quickly locating the captain using his perception field, Nick took off like a shot. Not knowing how long he had, he recklessly ducked under the firing arc of one of the archers as he headed toward the front of the formation. Seeing the Captain on the front lines, he hesitated only a moment before shouting, ¡°Captain Angelton! We need to destroy that array!¡± While distracting someone during a fight was usually a terrible idea, Nick really didn¡¯t have much choice. Every second he delayed, the kobalds could be getting closer to reinstating the rift. He impatiently watched as the captain skillfully dispatched a giant kobald with a backhand sword-swing across its throat, then kicked it back into the horde. Nick locked eyes with the captain when the man looked over his shoulder. Almost immediately, he felt the captain¡¯s mind reach out to establish a connection. ¡®Not surprising that the man was trained to visualize communication protocols through the material plane. The army¡¯s training is nothing if not rooted in the fundamentals. It¡¯s both reassuring and yet incredibly limiting,¡¯ he complained to himself, then banished the distracting thought. Feeling the connection solidify, Nick didn¡¯t have a chance to say anything before the captain prempted him, ¡°How in the hells did you and Walker close the rift? And did you two cause that damned implosion?¡± Nick knew they didn¡¯t have time for this, so he completely ignored the man. ¡°Captain, we need to destroy that spell-array as soon as possible. Otherwise, the kobald¡¯s shamans will just open it up again. Even worse, if they destabilize the local ethereal plane any more than it already is, we¡¯re going to start having random rifts opening all over the place.¡± The Captain had returned to the fighting after having established the mental connection, so the only one to see his rare grimace was the kobald in front of him. Not that it mattered much, as the kobald didn¡¯t live long enough to tell anyone about it. The captain replied, ¡°Yes, that would be bad. Can you at least give me directional heading? I can¡¯t see anything at the moment. The essence is so dense around here it¡¯s like looking through fog with my perception field.¡± Nick didn¡¯t reply with words, but he transferred the feeling of where the array currently was. Around 30 units in front of them, and a little to the left. The captain took a moment to process the information before he replied, ¡°Do you have a visual on it? What will it take to destroy it?¡± Nick wiped his sweaty palms on his mud-covered pants, and said, ¡°I can tell that it¡¯s there. And in order to destroy it, we¡¯ll have to get right on top of it. To make sure it¡¯s no longer usable, I¡¯ll have to disenchant the slabs before we can break them. Currently they are infused with potential, and will be almost impossible to destroy from range.¡± Right as Nick pronounced his dire verdict, he shivered at the feeling of the ether shaking above him. It felt like a ball of insanity was intent on giving him a haircut, threading the needle between the shields and the top of his head. Even though he had only had a brief look at whatever the spell was, he could tell that it was, at best, something only an insane person would cast. Before he was able to fully process what he¡¯d felt, the entire area in front of them exploded in a glorious display of destruction. As he was currently focusing his senses on the ethereal plane, his eyes widened in shock at what he was seeing. That spell was nothing but a bunch of unrefined elemental essence, charged with the souls of dead kobalds, and wrapped in a simple delivery spell he recognized from a simple ¡®water-ball¡¯ spell. ¡®That should not have worked!¡¯ he told himself. The scale of destruction was completely disproportionate to the size of the spell. Nick was by no means a practiced soul-caster, but he was relatively sure that a spell-form for a spell like that would require intense study into fields that were frowned upon even among the darkest of soul-mages. How familiar would one have to be with death in order to manipulate multiple souls¡¯ potentials at the same time. And even if they were capable of that kind of magic, why would they choose such an asinine spell to charge with that type of potential? With that much power available, they could alter the very fabric of the material plane! Nick¡¯s thought process was shattered by the captain¡¯s voice ringing in his head, ¡°Wasn¡¯t the spell-array we need to destroy somewhere around there?¡± Blinking a few times in surprise, Nick realized that the captain was right. Before replying, he used his perception field to look over the area and double check. Sure enough, what little was left of the spell array was sitting there¡­ smoking. Barely a hint of the spell-array was left. Instead, he saw the paving stones twisted into stone spikes, puddles of bloody water and mud, and lots and lots of body parts. With how much unfocused elemental essence the spell had unleashed, it wasn¡¯t surprising to see randomized constructs covering the area. Without a doubt, the spell-array had been destroyed¡­ thoroughly destroyed at that. Nick¡¯s mental voice was filled with shock as he stuttered, ¡°Uh, captain, the spell-array has been taken care of. The kobalds won¡¯t be using it to open another rift, that¡¯s for sure. In fact, most of the shamans are very dead at this point. As a matter of fact, I¡¯m not even sure if they can be resuscitated. I think we¡¯re in the clear.¡± Nick sensed that the captain¡¯s mental projection had the slightest undertone of vicious satisfaction when he replied, ¡°That¡¯s good to hear. Now we just have to get out of here before we¡¯re over-run.¡± Nick gulped at the prospect of actually surviving this suicide mission. It hadn¡¯t occurred to him that they might make it out of here in one piece. Now that the possibility had presented itself, whatever fear he¡¯d been repressing was bubbling up from the recesses of his mind and causing him to panic. ----- Nero came to the unfortunate conclusion that there were both positives and negatives to having such a powerful perception field. On one hand, he had a pretty good view of the battlefield, and the entire area resembled a Hollywood movie. However, as a counterpoint, his entire visible world was confined to one gigantic bubble. Even worse, he couldn¡¯t pay attention to everything all at once, so he was limited to focusing his mind probe on one area at a time. It was like having a wonderful 360 degree field of view, but only being able to focus in one specific direction at a time, and anything over 100ft away was completely imperceptible to him. Find this and other great novels on the author''s preferred platform. Support original creators! Of course, even with all those drawbacks, it was still better than what he could see with his actual eyes. Considering that, for the most part, he was at least a foot shorter than everyone around him, the dust-filled view of backpacks was getting old. After the destruction of the rift, the captain had ordered an ¡®organized withdrawal¡¯. To Nero, it was simply the very logical decision to run away and hope the kobalds decided killing them wasn¡¯t worth the effort. Unfortunately, for the past hour, they¡¯d been under constant assault as they¡¯d made their way up the mountain. In fact, the only reason Nero knew they were going up the mountain at all was because the slope was getting steeper. At one point, they¡¯d even had to climb up a small rock-face to continue on their way. Even that hadn¡¯t stopped the kobalds from following them. As far as he could tell, the kobalds were willing to follow them until their little legs gave out, or they managed to finally kill all the ¡®smooth-skins¡¯. It wasn¡¯t all bad though. Despite not being able to help much with the battle, being in the middle of the formation gave him the perfect opportunity to study the spells being cast by the few mages and support staff. He had even been able to figure out the cool giant shield that had been hovering over his head since the beginning of their suicide run. The bad news was that every time he cast that version of the shield spell, the construct would just hang there in the air unless he ¡®dragged¡¯ it with him, and moving something that size was damn near impossible. He¡¯d even had the clever idea of trying to anchor the construct to his spear and tried carrying it like an umbrella. ¡®I still don¡¯t understand why that hadn¡¯t worked,¡¯ he complained to himself. Recalling how poorly that debacle had gone, he remembered casting the shield-spell, and how proud he was when at first everything seemed fine. However, the farther he¡¯d gotten from the initial casting site, the more the tip of the spear had begun to deform. After only 10 feet, the entire spell had fallen apart and the resulting shock of losing the spell had felt like he¡¯d taken an ice-pick to the forehead. He decided then and there, that he would hold off on the experiments for a while. Nero¡¯s internal musings were halted when he heard the captain¡¯s loud voice project itself throughout the entire formation. ¡°HOLD!¡± Captain Angelton shouted. By this point, he could tell that the elites were all pretty tired. So, it was surprising to see them still managing to be relatively coordinated by successfully stopping all at once. Nero could see the front of the formation begin doing something along a cliff-face. He really hoped they didn¡¯t intend to climb up the actual mountain. To him, that seemed like an incredibly stupid idea. All the kobalds would have to do was pelt them with arrows while they climbed, then wait for their bodies to fall down so they could be hacked to pieces. It took a few minutes, but Nero finally figured out the captain¡¯s plan. The front of the formation had pulled out pick axes and were carving into the rock to manufacture a cave for them to defend. Chucking, Nero thought, ¡®Only in a fantasy world is this a valid strategy to defend against a pursuit force. But what¡¯s stopping the kobalds from just widening the damned hole?¡¯ Now that they were no longer moving, he at least had the opportunity to blow off some steam. Cracking his knuckles like he was getting ready to do some serious work, Nero pulled on his center to weave his new favorite spell. However, he quickly came to realize a massive flaw in his plan. There wasn¡¯t nearly enough essence from the dead kobalds floating around to charge his spell. The moment he started pulling in essence it, he nearly fumbled his grip on the spell-form due to the uneven essence distribution. Not willing to lose all the center he¡¯d allocated to the spell, he allowed the accumulated essence to just dissipate into the ether. Taking a second to think through his options, he frowned at the conclusion he was forced to come to. The spell-form required way too much potential to be a practical war-spell. He could charge it with his own potential from his center, but that would be moronic. Looking around with his perception field, he could see that the kobalds were still dying in large numbers. So, if the battle stayed in this area for a while, he might be able to start casting his ¡®glass-cannon¡¯ again. But, for now, he¡¯d have to try something else. Therefore, while everyone else was fighting, and the front of the formation was digging, Nero spent his time standing there with his eyes closed, examining the spells everyone was using and trying to decide which one he¡¯d most enjoy appropriating. Eventually, he decided on a personalized variation of what he¡¯d chosen to call the ¡®boulder¡¯ spell. It was based on the spell-form used by one of the support mages who occasionally used it to fire a 3ft wide round stone off into the distance. From what Nero had seen, the boulder-construct would roll down the mountain, crushing kobalds until whatever potential had been infused into it depleted itself. To Nero, it seemed like a brilliant idea to use gravity to his advantage. Also, the fact that the spell-form was exceedingly simple might have been a factor in its favor as well. Nero¡¯s first cast had not, in any way, been a success, considering he¡¯d almost killed himself by dropping the constructed boulder on his head. Yet, Nero persevered. His determination unwavering in the face of adversity. His second cast, for the record, caused no friendly casualties as he¡¯d managed to dismiss the construct before it had landed on anyone. By only his third cast, he was able to successfully launch a boulder into the enemy forces. His pride was immeasurable, and he couldn¡¯t help but come to the startling conclusion that he was, in fact, a genius. Over time, his proficiency in the spell improved drastically. It took some effort, but he managed to fine tune how much center he was using to create his constructs at maximum efficiency. Even better, as he was able to cast his spells from a protected position, he was able to fully concentrate on maintaining his center. As a result, he became lost in his casting and didn¡¯t realize how much time was passing outside his mental bubble. Over and over, he¡¯d slowly build a hovering rock before hurling it into the distance. He¡¯d then mentally follow its progress through the advancing kobalds until it eventually got out of range of his mind probe. Then, he¡¯d build another one and send it off on its journey. His casting time wasn¡¯t very quick, but it was steady. And the best part about it was that he felt like he could do it forever. It was slowly becoming a form of active meditation for him. But all good things come to their natural end, and eventually he felt a hand on his shoulder bringing him out of his trance. Looking over his shoulder, he raised his head to see an elite he didn¡¯t recognize telling him it was time to head into the cave. After shaking his head a bit to clear his mind, he used his perception field to check on the bigger picture. It looked like the stream of never ending kobalds was finally petering off. He could now see them trying to wait for others to show up so that they could attack in larger groups. In his opinion, at this point they barely registered as a threat. After taking a deep breathe, he turned around to make his way into the freshly carved cave. He walked past a few shield-wielding elites that looked like they were preparing to hold the entrance. Upon entering, he was surprised to see how large a space they¡¯d cleared out and that cooking pots and lights were already being set up alongside tents and water barrels. Unfortunately, he could tell they might be staying here for a while. ¡®The wilds really do refuse to be anything other than a camping trip from hell, don¡¯t they,¡¯ he complained. He felt a slight tap on his mind, as if someone thought about opening a connection to him but decided against it. Turning his head to see who caused the sensation, as it was too brief for him to identify the culprit, he saw Nick waving him over. Around the man was the captain, Howie, and a few other people. Each and every one of them was staring at Nero with serious looks on their faces, and he realized that they all wanted to have a word with him. ¡®Well¡­ crap. They¡¯re probably going to ask me about the rift, and how I closed it. Maybe also the spell I was using too blow up the little bastards en masse. This is either going to be really annoying, or really funny,¡¯ he thought to himself as he made his way over. ¡®I wonder if they¡¯ll take a rain-check and let me catch a few hours of sleep,¡¯ he wondered. Chapter 155 - I thought I was here for an award? Specialist Howard rubbed his chin in thought while he replied, ¡°Yeah, I managed to get a pretty good look at their tunnel. It didn¡¯t look good.¡± Nick looked over at the man and asked, ¡°You were able to regulate your perception field well enough to see through the essence disturbances? That¡¯s impressive.¡± Even as a researcher with little to no combat experience, he was well aware that during engagements of any significant size the ether tended to become saturated with highly charged essence streams. The cause of course being the numerous essence fields pushing conflicting identities into the ether. As a result, the information acquired through perception fields tended to become very difficult to interpret with any degree of certainty. Not to mention the added difficulty of being in the middle of a density shift to contend with. The ether here was filled with the most turbulent essence flows he¡¯d ever seen. Remembering how bad it had gotten during the battle, Nick was very impressed with the specialist. It took an enormous level of skill to see through that degree of essence disruption. Waving away the compliment, the specialist replied, ¡°It wasn¡¯t all that impressive. When the rift closed¡­ shut-down¡­ maybe, disappeared? Yeah, let¡¯s go with ¡®disappeared¡¯. When the rift disappeared the backlash in the ether was strong enough to freeze the ambient essence in its place. At that time, I happened to be trying to figure out where all the kobalds were coming from, and I just got lucky.¡± Captain Angelton wasn¡¯t too interested in the ¡®how¡¯. His only concern at the moment was the ¡®what¡¯. ¡°Describe to me exactly what you saw,¡± he ordered. Everyone standing around the make-shift command table listened closely to what the specialist had to say. After taking a deep breathe, Specialist Howard began his report, ¡°The kobalds must have been intending to use the tunnel as an invasion point because they were able to widen it a great deal while we were fighting. The opening was twice the size it was when I first saw it. That speaks to a great deal of preparation and planning. Also, there were hundreds of kobalds pouring out onto the surface. Now that I think about it, I¡¯m not sure why they even needed the rift.¡± Interrupting the specialist¡¯s report, Nick added, ¡°It wasn¡¯t about the troops, I don¡¯t think. From what I could tell from the limited look I had at their spell-array, the troops were most likely just a matter of convenience. I think the real goal was to alter the landscape and convert the area into their domain.¡± The captain turned to Nick and asked, ¡°What makes you say that?¡± Nick replied, ¡°Simple, nowhere on that array was a single rune-set dedicated to diffusive identity mitigation.¡± Seeing the confused looks on the soldiers all around him, Nick decided to clarify his statement a little. ¡°You see, normally planar gates and intersections are naturally limited to the material plane. Especially those which are created on purpose. A surrounding area¡¯s identity is usually not influenced by their presence. In that way, portals are usually very different from planar rifts, spawn-points, and other typical essence events. Yet, the kobalds chose to deliberately open a planar rift rather than a portal. So, I can only conclude that their purpose was the main difference between the two types of planar connections.¡± The captain listened to what Nick was saying, but didn¡¯t think it really mattered in the grand scheme of things, so he decided to move the conversation along. Turning back to Specialist Howard, the captain asked, ¡°All right, so that explains where all their reinforcements were coming from. Did you have any trouble with their spell-casters?¡± The specialist shrugged lightly, and replied, ¡°Not really. For the most part it was a slug-fest. Their essence control wasn¡¯t all that much better than ours, and I didn¡¯t see any evidence of unfamiliar magic. Aside from their shaman¡¯s disturbing proficiency at soul magic, that is.¡± Everyone at the table grimaced at the mention of the uncomfortable topic of discussion. Yet, they were too professional to let it stop them from facing the reality of the situation. Nick scoffed and replied with some heat in his voice, ¡°That¡¯s surprising to hear considering how many souls were burned to fuel your spells during our escape.¡± While everyone raised their eyebrows in surprise at the accusation, no one looked more shocked to hear it than specialist Howard. ¡°What in the hells are you talking about?¡± he demanded. Nick looked at the specialist, his head tilted to the side with some skepticism. ¡°You mean you weren¡¯t the one doing all that soul-magic?¡± Specialist Howard shook his head in denial and said, ¡°I thought that was you! I wasn¡¯t going to say anything, as it really isn¡¯t my place to judge what type of research you do, but I should have known better than to think that poorly of you. After all, those spells were pathetically simple for a mage of your caliber.¡± The two men shared a mutual look of insight, and then both shouted at the same time. ¡°Nero!¡± ¡°Walker!¡± ----- Nero made his way toward the group, avoiding eye contact with the men and women standing around the fold-able table. ¡®Might as well get this over with,¡¯ he told himself, resigning himself to what would most likely be a thinly veiled interrogation. When he got close enough, he smiled widely and said, ¡°Mission accomplished, eh guys! We closed the portal, killed a bunch of flesh-eating kobalds, and escaped to fight another day. Good times all around. How about we put a pin in this Q&A then touch base tomorrow?¡± No one cracked a smile, and the vibe he was getting was decidedly NOT one of appreciation for his efforts. If he didn¡¯t know better, he would have thought he was in some kind of trouble. However, considering all his recent successes, he figured something else was going on. Running his eyes across the frowning group who didn¡¯t seem interested in answering his question, he tried another angle, ¡°So, is this cave going to be our new base? I¡¯m just asking because I couldn¡¯t help but wonder what¡¯s stopping the kobalds from just making another hole, or even just widening the tunnel? Are we expecting them to just forget about us?¡± Nick was the one who decided to broach the subject on everyone¡¯s mind, completely ignoring Nero¡¯s inquiries. ¡°Nero, were you the one doing soul magic?¡± he asked, his voice full of ice. If you encounter this narrative on Amazon, note that it''s taken without the author''s consent. Report it. To Nero, the question was so completely out of left field, he had no idea how to respond. Cocking his head to the side in confusion, he replied, ¡°I have absolutely no idea what you¡¯re talking about.¡± When Nero heard the term ¡®soul-magic¡¯, the translation he received was about the manipulation of a person¡¯s soul. To his mind, he not only hadn¡¯t done any soul-magic, he wouldn¡¯t even have the first clue how to do it if he tried. Specialist Howard joined the conversation by asking, ¡°When we were falling back from the site of the summoning, someone was using the souls of the dead kobalds to fuel their spells. While I appreciate that we were in a tough situation, there is no excuse for discarding our humanity just to live another day as a lich.¡± By the time he finished speaking, the man was nearly growling with repressed rage at the thought of this reckless young man messing with magic he couldn¡¯t possibly hope to control. The subject of their poorly veiled accusation dawned on poor Nero, and he responded in the only way he knew how. He laughed in the man¡¯s face. The entire table froze as Nero burst into hysterical laughter. The young man gripped his sides in mirth, and everyone could see Nero was starting to tear up from how hard he was chortling. Trying to catch his breath, Nero held up a hand to try and calm down the specialist. Nero could feel the man¡¯s essence field vibrating in what he could only describe as righteous indignation at Nero¡¯s flippant behavior. ¡°Calm down, dude,¡± he said, barely able to get the words out while he regained his composure. Finally coming out of his impromptu mirthful episode, Nero grinned up at the man and asked, ¡°You think I was using the souls of the dead in some dark ritualistic casting or something? That is the stupidest thing I¡¯ve heard all day, and just this morning I heard that guy,¡± he paused as he gestured over at the captain before continuing, ¡°order less than 100 soldiers to charge into a horde of kobalds and try and stop an invasion with nothing but our ¡®can-do¡¯ attitude and a few fresh-faced recruits.¡± Nick rejoined the conversation, his tone completely devoid of humor. ¡°Are you saying that you weren¡¯t the one to cast that soul-magic?¡± he asked for clarification. Nero shook his head in amusement and replied, ¡°I think I understand your confusion. Once again, you are all just ¡®wrong¡¯. I didn¡¯t use souls to power my spells, I did the same thing those kobalds were doing, I used the leftover potential from the dead bodies to substitute for my center.¡± Almost everyone at the table shared a complicated look with each other. However, Nick and Howard¡¯s eyes remained on Nero, not even remotely swayed by what he was saying. Other than them, the only person who remained unfazed was the ever-stoic Captain Angelton who watched over the argument with his arms crossed and his steely gaze constantly judging everyone around him. Nick put his hands on his hips and hissed, ¡°Nero, we¡¯re perfectly capable of recognizing soul-magic when we see it. What you and the shamans did is considered border-line illegal in Oglivarch. And that is only when the person doing it has the relevant background to survive the disgusting years of research required to master that vile field of magic.¡± Specialist Howard added his own two valens. ¡°As a soldier, I understand the tactical advantage of using what¡¯s available to gain an advantage, but using the souls of sentient creatures is a dangerous game for a caster. Ninety-nine times out of a hundred, soul-mages end up turning into vile undead things which become nothing more than a blight on the land around them.¡± Nero¡¯s mirth vanished as they kept talking. It was obvious to him that they weren¡¯t understanding what he was saying. ¡®They think I¡¯m some kind of necromancer or something?¡¯ he thought, shocked at the surprising evidence of idiocy from his normally intelligent companions. Running his fingers through his hair, he tried to clear up the growing misunderstanding. ¡°First, let me just say that I¡¯m not going to turn into an undead by doing whatever it was I did. Or, at least, I can¡¯t see how that would be remotely possible. But, I¡¯m sure you¡¯ve all studied the subject thoroughly, so I¡¯m probably wasting my time explaining myself. However, I¡¯m going to give it my best shot regardless. The ¡®fuel¡¯ as you so colorfully put it, was not souls. As I said before, it was just the stuff left over from when the soul goes off to wherever it is that it goes after someone dies. For God¡¯s sake people, can¡¯t you see the kobalds souls still clinging to their bodies after their dead? I didn¡¯t touch a single one of them! What kind of a monster do you think I am?¡± Nick spoke up, surprise evident in his tone, ¡°You could see their souls waiting to be reattached?¡± Nero looked over at the man and replied, ¡°You can¡¯t? It took a while to understand what I was looking at, but yeah, I could see them. There is a little bubble, or dent, in the ether that I¡¯m guessing leads to wherever it is their going. When the thread that connects the soul to the body snaps, the soul just kinda slips into the bubble and disappears. What the kobalds and I were using to cast was the stuff that was falling off the souls while they were waiting for the string to snap. I¡¯m calling it ¡®potential¡¯, because that¡¯s what it is. I¡¯m guessing you could say it was the unused ¡®experience¡¯ or whatever.¡± Nick and Specialist Howard shared an uncomfortable look, neither knowing what to think about what they were hearing. Yet, Nick was nothing if not a dedicated scientist, so he tried to figure out what Nero was trying to say. ¡°So, you weren¡¯t using the souls, just the experience that was attached to their souls?¡± he asked. Nero shook his head, annoyed that they weren¡¯t getting it. ¡°No, not at all. I wasn¡¯t touching their souls at all, and neither were the kobalds. Can¡¯t you see what happens when a person dies? The soul starts releasing whatever potential it was holding onto into the ether. If you¡¯re looking for it, you can just treat it as another essence flow that is floating all around us. You had to have seen it. There was so much of it floating around that the essence in the area was shaking like a plucked guitar string.¡± Nick frowned in thought, while Specialist Howard adopted a confused look while he tried to figure out what the hell Nero was talking about. Unfortunately for the rest of the command staff, they didn¡¯t have the relevant magical knowledge to understand the subject at all. To them, it sounded like a typical scientific argument that probably boiled down to how each party wanted to define something. Although without one side accusing the other of being an idiot, they couldn¡¯t really be sure. Nick was hesitant to expose Nero¡¯s unprecedented skill in essence perception, especially since it seemed to be so incredibly versatile, not to mention powerful, but he just couldn¡¯t help himself. ¡°So, when you look at the ether through your perception field, you¡¯re actually able to ¡®see¡¯ the individual essence flows, not to mention the souls and the experience coming off them? Can you see that dimensional film as well? Are the individual essence streams identifiable to you?¡± Nero didn¡¯t immediately reply, as the looks he was getting form the command staff were starting to make his palms sweat. ¡°Um¡­ yeah. You know I¡¯m getting pretty good at seeing what¡¯s happening in the ether. We just spent all day providing me with dead bodies to look at. Is it so hard to believe that I figured out how to see souls? It¡¯s not all that difficult if you just try. It¡¯s like squinting to see the hidden image in a magic-eye picture.¡± Although no one understood Nero¡¯s reference, they were able to get the general idea of what he was trying to say. No one at the table was unaware of how extraordinary the ability to perceive the ether like that would be. The tactical advantage alone would be nothing short of phenomenal. Each of them took a few seconds to imagine all the possible advantages the skill could provide. Surveillance, Teleportation anchoring, Spell work, even social skills like lie-detection and essence field interpretation. There wasn¡¯t a single field that couldn¡¯t be mastered with the aid of that kind of ethereal perception. Specialist Howard broke the silence by muttering, ¡°You could be the greatest surveillance-mage of this age. How is that possible?¡± Nero wasn¡¯t unaware that he was better at seeing through the ether than everyone else was. However, what he¡¯d failed to realize, up until now, was how much better at it than them he actually was. Surprisingly, it was Captain Angelton that got the conversation back on track. ¡°I¡¯m assuming that¡¯s how you were able to disrupt the rift. You were able to locate, isolate, and destroy the tether directly. That¡¯s a powerful skill young man. Don¡¯t worry about the question of whether or not you were doing soul-magic. I¡¯ll personally see to it that you get the relevant study materials so that you can avoid the fate most soul-mages resign themselves to. For now, go set up your tent and get some rest. Remember to eat. We¡¯ll talk again later,¡± he said, then gestured off to the rest of the cave and ordered, ¡°Go on now, you¡¯re dismissed.¡± Nero didn¡¯t fully understand what ¡®fate¡¯ the captain was referring to, but he recognized the ¡®out¡¯ the man was giving him. Figuring that he should take advantage of it while he could, he replied, ¡°Thanks, Cap. Let me know if you need my help with anything. Good luck with your planning and what-not.¡± After offering a cheeky two fingered salute as a goodbye, Nero took off to find a spot to pitch his tent. ¡®Well, as long as I didn¡¯t accidentally get myself labeled as some kind of ¡®black-mage¡¯ or something, I¡¯m sure I¡¯ll be fine,¡¯ he thought to himself. As he made his way through the cave, he thought about the singular cleric he¡¯d met, and couldn¡¯t imagine a guy like that leading a crusade to root out evil liches and expunge their wickedness from the world. However, it might be best to not rely on his ¡®glass-cannon¡¯ spell in the future. There was no accounting for how stupid prejudice could be. Even though he¡¯d explained it was all just a misunderstanding, didn¡¯t mean they would believe him. Whether or not he was right wouldn¡¯t stop them from burning him at the stake if they really decided to go all ¡®witch-hunter¡¯ on him. With those happy thoughts bouncing around his head, he skillfully put up his little tent while chewing on a ration bar. There was really no point worrying about it. Not to mention that this society didn¡¯t exactly scream ¡®middle-ages¡¯ to him. At worst, they¡¯d probably assign him to a remedial magic class and force him to renew his magic-casting permit or something ridiculous like that. With that amusing notion relieving his tension, he decided to think about something else. ¡®Tomorrow is going to be interesting. Are we planning a counter-attack? Guerrilla warfare? Fortifying our position? Are we even going to bother with the spawn points that are no doubt growing in number?¡¯ he wondered to himself with some excitement. ¡®Ah, who am I kidding¡­ I¡¯m just glad I¡¯m still alive to worry about it,¡¯ he thought to himself with a smile. He really was enjoying being an adventurer. It was all so exciting, and random. Chapter 156 - Self reflection with the benefit of a lifetime of cliches. General Branson sat comfortably in his chair at the war room¡¯s conference room table, ignoring all the bustling soldiers attending to their duties in the background. With his brow furrowed in concentration, his hands folded in his lap, he carefully studied the holographic screens in front of him. He had brought up recordings of every confrontation between his forces and the kobalds since the beginning of their conflict. Several screens displayed the events that had occurred under the mountain, starting with their first contact and ending with a current view mountain gate defenses. But it was the screens displaying their most recent engagement that kept drawing his eyes. ¡®If this wasn¡¯t even their main force, then how many kobalds are actually down there in that mountain?¡¯ he wondered, the question causing his jaw to clench in anger. Once again, he saw the rift the kobalds had opened evaporate into the ether as though it had been nothing more than a simple construct. Every single time he saw it, he felt a chill run up his spine at the completely unprecedented sight. Not a single mage they¡¯d consulted had a single theory as to how ST24 had managed to do it. If the rift had closed, or been disrupted, he¡¯d have applauded them for their success. But this¡­ this he didn¡¯t understand, and that feeling was not something he was used to. He¡¯d been surprised to find that it was Captain Angelton¡¯s group who¡¯d poked the hornet¡¯s nest. From what he remembered, he¡¯d specifically ordered them to an area that was projected to be a safe place for the elites to gain some much needed experience and to hone their skills before they were thrown into the front-lines. But, to be fair, he hadn¡¯t paid much attention to the postings as he¡¯d had more important things to deal with than the training program he¡¯d implemented to help deal with the essence shift. He didn¡¯t even want to think about Lord Walker and all the nonsense he¡¯d caused over the past few weeks. He¡¯d hoped the young man would stop causing him headaches, but it seemed like that wasn¡¯t going to happen. His attention snapped to one of the commanders who called out, ¡°They¡¯ve made contact! The mages in Gate 22 have isolated the essence stream and reopened communications. We have ST24 reporting in as we speak!¡± General Branson sat up in his seat. ¡®Finally!¡¯ he mentally growled. He¡¯d been waiting for this. ¡°Put them through. I want to talk to them,¡± he ordered. The entire room quieted down while the commander relayed some orders through his link and everyone got ready to hear what the unlikely heroes of Dorchester had to say. The commander leaned over the table and said, ¡°ST24, are you hearing me?¡± The central control crystal on the table lit up, and the room heard an audio processed voice reply, ¡°Yes, sir. The connection is stable.¡± General Branson stood up and sternly gestured for the commander to sit down so that he could take over from here. ¡°This is General Branson, who am I speaking with?¡± he asked, his tone carrying every inch of command he could muster. The voice replied, ¡°This is Captain Angelton, sir.¡± The general couldn¡¯t stop himself from grinning a little. He should have known the man wouldn¡¯t die so easily. If any of ST24 would have managed to make it out of there, it would have been him. ¡°Give me a comprehensive after action report, Captain,¡± ordered the general. Over the next several minutes, the entire Dorchester command staff listened to Captain Angelton relay the events of the recent battle from the captain¡¯s point of view. There were shocked gasps, and incredulous stares in equal measure. It sounded unbelievable to say the least. Not a single lost soldier? A fresh crop of recruits led by a few seasoned sergeants? Total troop compliment of measly 103 soldiers fought off an army and performed a raid to close an active portal? While every major topic was covered, very little detail was actually given. The captain highlighted the enemy numbers, and how he organized his troops. However, he made no mention of how he broke the kobald illusion, closed the portal, or cleared enough of the enemy to retreat after being completely surrounded. With those questions unanswered, the report was lacking to the point of being nearly unbelievable. The captain finished his report, adding, ¡°For now, the kobalds are leaving us alone. It doesn¡¯t seem like they consider us worth the effort of trying to kill us. From our cave exit we can see several groups watching and waiting to see what we¡¯ll do, but they¡¯ve stopped actively attacking us for now.¡± When the captain abruptly stopped talking, the silence from the command staff immediately filled the room. Several people exchanged looks, wondering how everyone else was feeling about what they¡¯d just heard. Many of them sharing condescending looks of disbelief. As no one was saying anything, the captain¡¯s stern voice seemed louder than usual when he asked, ¡°Do you have a questions, or require any clarifications, sir?¡± The general almost chuckled. Even though the captain wasn¡¯t in the room, he could still almost feel the man¡¯s pride warring with his anger at having been given such an impossible mission. While the general understood how the man felt, there were things he needed to hear that the man wasn¡¯t saying. ¡°I¡¯d first like you to explain how one of your elites managed to pierce the kobald¡¯s illusion technique, captain,¡± said the general, his voice leaving no room for misunderstanding what he was asking. Seemingly expecting the general¡¯s interest, the captain immediately replied, ¡°In order to answer that, sir, I¡¯d have to respectfully request protection for my soldier under the ¡®unique service accords¡¯.¡± The entire room gasped as if the captain had just told them the populators themselves had intervened. The ¡®unique service accords¡¯ govern how the kingdom of Oglivarch treats people with mutations or skills that put them at the level of a national treasure. No one in Dorchester has ever qualified for that privilege, and as such the captain¡¯s demand seemed so ridiculous it was almost insulting. However the general was perfectly aware of who the captain might be talking about. He¡¯d known there was something off about that young man, it¡¯s why he put a natural observer right next to him. It wasn¡¯t like the head of the Henning¡¯s Tower of Magic showing up to watch over the young man wasn¡¯t enough to rouse his suspicion. In fact, as he looked around the table at his commanders, all of whom looked angry at the implication that they weren¡¯t trustworthy enough to hear the captain¡¯s report, he felt like sneering at the fools. At least one of them should have been able to piece together the clues that were right in front of them. ¡°Very well, captain. A dedicated line will be opened to through a scry connection. Expect someone to contact you within the hour,¡± he said, then closed the connection. The commanders all looked at him in confusion. Standing up from the leaning position he had taken over the table, he looked them all in the eye and said, ¡°If anyone feels like their familial or social responsibilities would force them to divulge what might be information protected under the relevant accords, I¡¯d suggest you figure out a way to avoid being in the room for that communication. Am I understood?¡± he asked icily. Seeing as the general seemed to be taking the situation seriously, they all nodded in unison. After all, violation of the ¡®unique service accords¡¯ was considered treason against Oglivarch. The only reason most people even knew of the accords was due to the fact that, in the past, one of the kings of Oglivarch executed three of his own children for ignoring them. ----- Completely oblivious to the repercussions his casual remarks had caused, Nero collapsed onto his bedroll. Not even having bothered to take off his armor, he let himself fall into the pillows he¡¯d borrowed from Nick and Vera¡¯s house. While he was mentally congratulating himself on his foresight, he closed his eyes and let his mind wander in anticipation of finally getting some sleep. Unfortunately, his rest was put on hold by an uncomfortable sensation radiating from his center. After his mind delicately poked his meta-physical insides to figure out what was wrong, he eventually recognized the problem. He was surprised to find that he was overflowing with experience and needed to level in order to release the soul-bloat. ¡®Even with how much has happened over the past few days, this seems a little faster than what I was expecting,¡¯ he thought to himself. Reaching out to connect with his soul-space, he once again found himself on his cobble stone path, now surrounded by new memory clouds filled with images of battle and blood. Unlike last time, the sky was now overcast and filled to the brim with storm clouds. Looking up, he could see the occasional flash of lightning, each of which gave him an uncomfortable feeling of something being wrong, or possibly unbalanced. Considering how little he knew about this place, he wasn¡¯t liking the implication of his inner world being so uncomfortable. Yet, as he wasn¡¯t one to worry about things too much, he figured he¡¯d start going through the memories, hoping that it would fix whatever meta-physical bullshit was wrong with him. Like always, he ran into the standard self-realizations he¡¯d come to expect. This book''s true home is on another platform. Check it out there for the real experience. His interactions with Nick showed him that he was finally learning to ask for help. However, the fact that Nick used that trust to probe Nero¡¯s secrets reminded him why his typical level of cynicism and caution were a completely valid life-choice. He chuckled at the memory of the flaming squirrels. Winced at seeing himself getting punch drunk by overusing his brain when he was practicing his mage-armor. Was once again confronted with uncomfortable fact that he found Rose so damn attractive. Chided himself for taking Cathleen for granted, despite the fact that the woman continued to do everything in her power to fade into the background. But mostly, he watched the battles and judged himself on his performance. Seeing the war happen from a third person perspective was enlightening, to say the least. He was confronted with the fact that it was just so much easier to swing a sword than it was to overcome someone¡¯s essence field with a spell. Yet, he couldn¡¯t deny the utility of magic in the arena of war. Large scale destruction and defense were essential to their success in the battle. Unlike what he¡¯d expected, there was no clear division between spell casters and fighters. It was all just a mishmash of techniques trying to find the most expedient way to perform an action. Magic was almost like a cheat code that borrowed a person¡¯s inner strength in order to alter the world around them. But it was far from perfect. In fact, for the most part magic was nothing more than an illusion so powerful that the person getting hit with it believed it was real. There didn¡¯t seem to be spells which directly affected reality at all. Aside from rare cases where a spell caused a secondary efft, everything magic did was temporary, and overly complicated. The fact that it was easier to chop down a tree with an axe than it was to cut it down with a spell was kinda depressing. For an aspiring mage like Nero, he felt like the world¡¯s magic system was rather weak. On the other hand, it really fit with the aesthetic of a fantasy world. Eccentric mages whose views on reality were a little skewed made a lot of sense in a world like this. Nero couldn¡¯t help but imagine wizards in towers playing with spells, altering reality to create alchemical creations which were able to contain the fleeting wisp of impossibilities. While he was unhappy with the fact that he wouldn¡¯t be raising towers of stone with his magic, he was able to appreciate the almost ethereal quality that the magic of this world seemed to embody. Speaking of the ethereal¡­ Nero took some time to isolate the memory cloud where he started being able to perceive souls. It turned out that it was after he figured out what the shamans were doing. After isolating and understanding the soul stuff they were using to power their portal, his visual range seemed to expand to allow him to see the souls still clinging to bodies all across the battlefield. It happened so naturally, he hadn¡¯t even noticed it at the time. His perception field was really becoming powerful. He was even starting to be able to tell the difference between his various fields. There was perception field that was like a third eye, perceiving the world around him. Then there was his essence field, which was more like a bubble of his personal reality which he was projecting onto the physical plane. But there was also a third field he couldn¡¯t put a name to just yet. The mysterious field was like a combination of fields spread out across the dimensions, anchoring him to all levels of the world. While his mind¡¯s eye worked through his perception field, it was this third field that seemed to give him the ability to understand what he was seeing. It was like a tuning knob on pair of binoculars which allowed the user to clear up the image. But it also seemed to enhance his physical presence, making his essence field denser, or ¡®realer¡¯, than it should be. Even with all of Nick¡¯s lectures bouncing around in his head, he still couldn¡¯t figure out what to call it. Before long, he was finished with his personal review. After blinking a few times at the fact that he¡¯d run out of memories to integrate, he examined the path below him and the forest around him, not liking what he was seeing. The shadows looked a little too dark, and the stones below his feet seemed more like rocks. What used to be an idyllic path toward his future was more like a half-arsed representation of an ¡®adventurer¡¯s path¡¯ on the road to the ¡®big bad¡¯. It just didn¡¯t seem as real as it used to be. By now he¡¯d come to realize that everything in this world had some sort of corollary to the spiritualism of his old life, so he tried to look at it through the lens of a hippy. Standing on the path, he hopped a few times while shaking out his hands to get into the right head-space. ¡®OK¡­ So my inner world is possibly all screwed up. What¡¯s my inner world? It¡¯s my projection of who I am. Am I not happy with myself? Nope, that¡¯s not it. I¡¯m still awesome. Maybe I¡¯m not being ¡®true¡¯ to myself or something¡­.Oh God¡­ am I becoming a caricature of myself? Is this some stupid ¡®learn to be my true self¡¯ thing?¡¯ he wondered, then looked around at the cliched fantasy forest all around him. Taking a deep breathe, he tried to come at it from another angle. He let his mind blank, and just tried to listen to his soul-space, just like he would listen to the world around him when he was back in reality. Almost immediately, he felt sensations and hints assault his mind. He could feel his hopes and dreams about being an adventurer, his desire to be a reality altering mage with a tower of his own, and his unhappiness with being forced into situations that he was entirely uninterested in. It was almost like his soul was complaining that it didn¡¯t get the Christmas present it had asked Santa for. His eyes snapped open, and he saw the soul-space for what it really was. This was his soul. It was disgustingly obvious now that he thought about it. Nick and Jennings had told him that his soul was influencing his personality, and that he needed to align his mind, body, and soul over time. The irrefutable conclusion he came to was that his soul was currently at odds with his circumstances, and it was up to him to tell it to grow the hell up. He¡¯d made some great strides in adapting his body to the new world, and his mind was growing at a decent pace with all the new information he was getting. However his soul was acting like a kid whose parents moved to a new town and it was starting to act out because it didn¡¯t like its new school. ¡®Adapt of die, Nero,¡¯ he told himself, doing his best to embrace his new identity with every fiber of his being. Closing his eyes, he felt the block disappear and his level adjust to his new reality. Embracing the choice in front of him, he channeled his new star into his pillar and felt his ¡®adaptability¡¯ make him a little more open to change.
Name Nero Walker Level 15
Race Human Growth 0%
Tier 1 Condition 100%
Age 14 Center 100%
Body 4 Mind 5
Soul 2 Confluence 11
Stars 0 Pillars 2 / 1
Body 4
Base Operative Level Stress
Presence 22 39.6 1.2
Durability 26 46.8 0.1
Recovery 47 84.6 6.4
Speed 25 45 7.9
Adaptability 47 84.6 3.9
Power 24 43.2 5.2
Mind 5
Base Operative Level Stress
Weight 32 64 14.1
Control 39 78 19.2
Field 36 72 36.4
Precision 55 110 29.2
Endurance 65 130 26.1
Focus 61 122 43.2
Soul 2
Base Operative Level Stress
Size 29 40.6 6.1
Density 101 141.4 8.2
Intensity 76 106.4 3.3
Pressure 27 37.8 7.5
Harmony 24 33.6 36.8
Adaptability 270 378 6.5
Not only had all of his stress levels grown, he felt like all the extra potential found little pockets of his soul to slip into. Almost as if there was more than one use for the experience he¡¯d collected. ¡®If it¡¯s really just potential, who knows what all it can do,¡¯ he told himself. With a smile on his face, he watched the surrounding forest¡¯s feeling of improbability fade, and once again become the perfect embodiment of ¡®the unknown¡¯. Below him, the path became solid once more, and the stones gripped his feet like they refused to let him slip. Above him, the clouds parted, and shafts of brilliant sunlight broke up the shadows and filled his inner world with a peaceful feeling of upcoming adventure. Shaking his head at the ridiculous clich¨¦ he was living, he tried and failed to hold back his grin. ¡®This world is such a otaku/nerd paradise, I¡¯m really hating myself for loving it so much,¡¯ he halfheartedly complained in his head. Looking off into the distance, he promised himself that he would stay true to his path and embrace the craziness of the world around him. There was so much to understand, so much see, he wouldn¡¯t let himself be held back by anyone¡¯s preconceptions, his or anyone else¡¯s. ¡®The world may be stupid, and the people here just begging to be mocked, but that doesn¡¯t make it any less real. I¡¯ll focus on the way this world actually is, and not just what they tell me. That¡¯s how Gamers find hidden quests, speed runners find exploits, and Einsteins develop relativity,¡¯ he reassured himself with a grin. Mentally patting himself on the back for his productive session of self-reflection, Nero closed his eyes and finally drifted off to sleep. Chapter 157 - A new class designation changes nothing. Lord Sarah Bennings has been the Director of Dorchester¡¯s Central Tower of Law for almost 65 years. Yet, for her that was only a recent development. As a 356 year old woman, she¡¯s been through many phases of her life, and this was only the most recent. After coming from the city of Bennings, where her family still ruled, she sought to find her own way, and develop her own branch out in the wider world of Oglivarch. While working her way up through the Tower of Law, starting with a career as a lawbringer, all the way through a brief stint as a tribunal judge, she courted and married into the Masters family. She and her husband, Kyle Masters, eventually founded their own house, taking the name Bennings as a tribute to her dignified history. As the head of the house, she directs the course for her children¡¯s 4 branch houses, and all of House Bennings myriad endeavor across all of Dorchester. Needless to say, she¡¯s seen a great deal, and overcome countless personal challenges to achieve the success she currently enjoys. Though there have been periods of difficulty, for the most part, her life was turning out exactly as she had hoped. However, recent days have been troubling to the point of exhaustion. Poorly thought out noble plots, assassination attempts on a new noble protected by the crown, legally grey business practices that required the over-site of the capital, a density shift promising beast tides of unprecedented size, and now formal petition to invoke the ¡®unique service accords¡¯ for one of the citizens of Dorchester. She sat in her office, staring blankly at the hologram showing the petition in front of her with a pronounced frown on her face. She carefully reviewed the paperwork, checking the authenticity of the general¡¯s psychic signature, and cross-referencing the first hand reports of eye witnesses. Everything seemed to be in order, and she saw no reason not to pass it along to Hennings. With a sigh, she approved the petition for further review and closed out the file. Whatever happened now, was out of her hands. Standing up, she went to pour herself a cup of tea while her thoughts worked through the various topics of immediate interest that plagued her daily schedule. There was just so much work to do, and so little time to do it in. Approaching the large window in her office, she looked out onto the city and took a moment to appreciate how far she¡¯d come. She idly thought of her husband, Kyle, sitting at home and painting, or maybe producing another one of his silly historical character profiles that he liked to upload onto the Thought-hub. ¡®Perhaps one day, someone like Kyle will be making a character profile of Lord Walker. In a way, all of this change was heralded by his coming to Dorchester. Maybe like the other unique talents of history, he¡¯ll earn a moniker of his own. What will they call him in a thousand years? Will the trials of his time in Dorchester even merit a mention in his saga? Of course all of this presupposes that the petition goes through, and the kingdom actually comes to collect him,¡¯ she thought to herself with some amusement. Sighing at the sight of the currently turbulent city, she couldn¡¯t help but feel a little powerless with all that was happening. Yet, she knew she had to move forward, reaffirm her inner drive to carry on, or like many others, she¡¯d fall to the perils of age-creep and fall off her path. Squaring her shoulders, she released the tension on her face, reacquiring the blank expression she¡¯d become known for. Once again in control, she turned around and returned to her seat. She had work to do, and this wasn¡¯t the time to indulge in distractions. ----- Nero still had many traits that carried over from his previous life on Earth. He hasn¡¯t lost his appreciation for coffee and sweets. His penchant for causing trouble and screwing with people hasn¡¯t dimmed in the least. Though he wasn¡¯t nearly as lazy as he used to be, there were still echos of his preference for procrastination that were easy to see. But above all, the one trait he was glad had followed him through his reincarnation was his tendency to dream in the third person. It wasn¡¯t like he didn¡¯t dream in the first person. He¡¯d still occasionally have the standard flying dreams, or that one nightmare where his teeth started falling out. But, from time to time, he¡¯d get to watch a mental movie where characters played out their scenes as if he were an observer watching them go about their day. Sometimes he¡¯d see his favorite characters from television shows or animes going through absurd situations that brought nothing but joy when he woke up and recalled them. One of his favorites was when he got a chance to see superheroes living their lives when they weren¡¯t in the middle of a crisis. He once had a wonderful dream where he got to see Superman, in his Clark Kent persona, at the DMV. The poor guy was stuck in a line like everyone else, and had to listen to the two people next to him having a heated debate on whether or not Superman, as an alien, had the same genital shape that humans did. When Nero had woken up after witnessing that hilarious episode of Dream-TV, he¡¯d went out of his way to write down what he remembered from that dream, just so he wouldn¡¯t forget anything when he posted it on his social media account. Though that was just one dream he¡¯d had, there were countless examples that provided Nero with endless sources of amusement and thought-provoking ideas. While he rarely remembered the details of these dreams, he always had a better chance at recalling the substance of the dreams when he was forcefully awakened by a third party. Like everybody else, dreams tend to linger in his head when he¡¯s forced out of them. So, it was with both happiness and annoyance when he felt his conscious mind being forced to the surface by someone forcefully shaking his feet. The dream he¡¯d been pulled out of was so engaging, he could still almost smell the lingering scent of ale and wine in the air as he lifted his head off his pillow. He¡¯d just been enjoying watching several Dark elves planning some complicated plot to overthrow their local leader and assume control of¡­ something¡­ and the realization that he was back in his tent was so jarring that he felt like throwing something heavy at whoever had the balls to interrupt his sleep. Opening his eyes and propping himself up on an elbow, he saw Nick¡¯s worried face looking in from the tent opening. ¡°What?¡± Nero asked harshly. Nick¡¯s face looked worried, and apparently completely unaffected in the face of Nero¡¯s wrath. ¡°You¡¯ve been in this tent for nearly 13 hours.¡± Nero stared at his friend, neither of them saying anything for a good 5 seconds before Nero finally snapped. ¡°And?¡± he demanded. Nick replied easily, ¡°I wanted to make sure you were alright. The battle must have been very difficult for you, and I wanted to make sure you were handling it well. Were you having trouble getting to sleep?¡± Nero offered Nick a blank look in response to his concern. While he was happy the old man seemed to care enough to check on him, having his pleasant and interesting dream interrupted had put him in a foul mood. ¡°I slept fine. The kobalds were barely a challenge when you think about it. I mean, seriously, did we even lose anybody? We obliterated them by the truckload. I think you are all over-reacting. Now go away, I¡¯m going back to bed,¡± he said, then resolutely punched his pillow and laid back down. Nick sighed and replied, ¡°Nero, you need to get up. We have some things to talk about that can¡¯t wait. Are you hungry?¡± Lifting his head a little, Nero narrowed his eyes and asked, ¡°Is there anything other than that chunky gruel we¡¯ve been eating?¡± Nick chuckled at how much Nero seemed to dislike standard rations and replied, ¡°Sorry, Nero. That ¡®chunky gruel¡¯ is the standard fare for soldiers in the field. You¡¯re just going to have to learn to like it.¡± Scoffing, Nero rolled over so he was staring at the tent¡¯s ceiling and replied, ¡°Yeah, that¡¯s not going to happen. Give me twenty minutes. I¡¯ll join you in a bit. That is unless you wanna come in and share this tent with me while I eat some leftovers.¡± This narrative has been unlawfully taken from Royal Road. If you see it on Amazon, please report it. Nick raised an eyebrow in surprise, and asked, ¡°You have leftovers? Any of it from when we ate at the Verena estate?¡± Nero smiled, lifted his head to look at Nick and replied, ¡°Yeah¡­ I even stole a few of your plates and silverware.¡± Giving Nero a look that hovered between disappointment and anger, Nick ducked down and entered the small tent. Snickering at the sight, Nero sat up to make room and muttered, ¡°Who¡¯d have thought my first guest in here would be an old man who was interested in my goods.¡± Nick¡¯s brow furrowed even further and quipped, ¡°What do you mean ¡®your¡¯ goods. The only thing we¡¯re having is ¡®my¡¯ goods.¡± Nero raised his eyebrows and held a hand to his chest as if he were shocked to hear what Nick was saying. ¡°You keep your good away from me old man, or I¡¯ll tell Vera on you!¡± Nick¡¯s anger evaporated into confusion, as he tried to understand what Nero was talking about. Suddenly his eyes widened in understanding, and his glare returned full-force. ¡°Nero, your not nearly as funny as you think you are. Just give me whatever food you stole from my house and shut the hell up for a bit.¡± Once again snickering, Nero reached into his personal space and started pulling out some of the food he¡¯d stolen from the time he¡¯d had dinner at Nick¡¯s estate. There wasn¡¯t a lot of room in the tent, but there was enough to enjoy an impromptu feast they both enjoyed immensely. While chomping down on something that resembled a drum-stick, Nero looked up at a hovering essence light and thought to himself, ¡®This is the life. Out on an adventure, hiding in a magically built cave, beset on all sides by monsters and enemies, surrounded by friends and allies sharing a common purpose, with magic providing good food and fantasy inspired ambiance.¡¯ While Nero was enjoying his meal, Nick ruined the moment by saying in his most serious tone, ¡°Nero, there really is something we need to talk about.¡± Giving Nick his best look of annoyance, he set down his drumstick and took a large swig from his canteen. ¡°Fine. What is so important that you needed interrupt my sleep and ruin what was, for a very brief moment, a good meal among friends?¡± Setting his plate gently down onto the tent floor, Nick locked eyes with Nero and said, ¡°Due to what you revealed to Captain Angelton and the sergeants, some things have been set into motion that can¡¯t be undone. There is still a lot you don¡¯t understand about the culture here, and some of that, I think, is my fault. I haven¡¯t been very successful at getting you to care about anything other than magic. Now, we¡¯re going to have to deal with that oversight.¡± Nero wasn¡¯t following, so he asked, ¡°What are you trying to say, Nick?¡± With his face looking like he was pronouncing something important, Nick replied, ¡°Captain Angelton has formally requested you be listed as a ¡®unique¡¯ citizen in the records.¡± Nero wasn¡¯t a complete idiot, so he figure it had something to do with his ¡®shocking¡¯ ability to perceive the ether in a way other people couldn¡¯t. However, he didn¡¯t think it was worth Nick getting all worked up over. Shrugging a bit, Nero returned to his meal and said, ¡°OK. So is that more of less annoying than the new noble thing? Or is it like the ¡®exploit¡¯ thing and I¡¯m looking at some kind of reward for being awesome?¡± Nick was surprised Nero was reacting so calmly about the situation, but he reminded himself that Nero had no idea what any of this meant, so he really shouldn¡¯t have been. ¡°I¡¯ll try and put this as simply as I can. While new nobles and exploits all fall within the typical governing systems within the kingdom, unique citizens are a completely different class of citizenry. They can be nobles, commoners, royalty, it doesn¡¯t matter. The only requirement to be a unique citizen is that the person has a skill or ability that is so powerful or useful that they are considered an irreplaceable assert to the kingdom as a whole. Do you understand?¡± asked Nick. Nero nodded, and replied, ¡°Yup. I¡¯m guessing it¡¯s about the portal thing you mentioned when we were closing that spawn point, right? Since I can manipulate portals and stuff, I¡¯m probably pretty useful for all kinds of stuff like that. So, do I get some sort of benefit or something? Or am I going to be forcibly enlisted in some kind of secret group and sent off on missions at the behest of a cabal of powerful nobles that will abuse my gifts until I manage to free myself from their control and wipe them and their families out in some kind of elaborate revenge plan?¡± Nick frowned, unhappy that Nero didn¡¯t seem to be taking this seriously. ¡°Nero, being categorized as a unique citizen means you have to be presented to the throne and tied to the ruling family as a branch house. You¡¯re immediately a noble, and your status as a new noble no longer applies. This is a VERY big deal. I need you to understand this, and take it seriously.¡± Nero sighed at Nick¡¯s pleading and replied, ¡°Look man, I get it. But from what you¡¯re saying, nothing is really changing. I was a new noble, under the protection of the royal family. Now I¡¯m a unique noble, under the exact same protection. And, I have to the capital and meet the King? So what? I had to already do that because of the exploit thing, right? So really, what¡¯s changed?¡± Nick sat in silence for a minute, trying to process things from Nero¡¯s point of view. In a way, Nero was right. For him, nothing serious has changed. If anything, this simplifies a lot of the problems he had been dealing with. The noble trials no longer apply, so he would no longer have to be an elite if he didn¡¯t want to be. He wouldn¡¯t have to marry on a time limit, or sire any children any time soon. In fact, from Nero¡¯s perspective, this is all probably good news. Nero grinned at Nick¡¯s confused face. Watching the man try and work out how to explain something Nero was obviously missing was pretty funny. Though Nero didn¡¯t understand the specifics, he could tell that being a ¡®unique¡¯ citizen wasn¡¯t something he should take lightly, but he felt it couldn¡¯t be any more troublesome than suddenly being a noble, or being enlisted in the army. Since the moment he¡¯d shown up in Dorchester, he¡¯d been going with the flow, and he didn¡¯t see how being a ¡®unique¡¯ citizen was going to change that going forward. Figuring he¡¯d give the man a break, Nero asked a question he¡¯d knew Nick would have a prepared lecture for, ¡°Hey Nick, tell me a little bit about what a ¡®unique¡¯ citizen is, and if you could, give a few examples.¡± Nick¡¯s face shook a little as he was knocked out of his train of thought. Meeting Nero¡¯s inquisitive eyes, he felt the world making a little more sense than it did a few seconds ago. He knew the answer to the young man¡¯s question, and it didn¡¯t require any kind of philosophical mental gymnastics. Coughing lightly into his hand to clear his throat, Nick began his lecture, ¡°Unique citizens are people with skills or abilities that are so uncommon, so profoundly useful, that they are protected and nurtured by the kingdom as a whole. As there are so few of them, it isn¡¯t something most people pay attention to. There are, however, plenty of historical examples that come to mind that might give you a better idea of what class you have joined. ¡°In the city of Beverign there is a woman known as ¡®The Siren¡¯. Her unique ability comes from a mutation dating back to her family¡¯s dalliances with the water-folk. Whether it is due to inter-breeding or some kind of ritual, her family has always had a close relationship with water. They were merchants and sailors. When she was just a young girl, it was discovered that her voice had the ability to alter the essence fields around her. To put it another way, she is able to naturally imbue her own essence into her voice to provoke an effect on the world around her. Should she desire the weather to change, she can ask the sky to clear. It is said that she can even overcome a person¡¯s will and command them to do her bidding. Luckily, she was discovered before she allowed the power to go to her head, and the royal family took over her education and directed her to use her gift for the common good. ¡°Another example is the famous ¡°Astrologician¡¯. I don¡¯t recall ever reading about where he came from, however he currently travels all across Oglivarch looking into planar ruins and histories so that he can add to the knowledge base of the kingdom. His unique ability is to look into an area¡¯s past as if he were scrying it. From what I understand, it has something to do with light and time, but I didn¡¯t really focus much on that topic in my studies. I know it sounds a lot like delving, but it¡¯s not. Regardless, it¡¯s an incredibly powerful ability and essential for studying the ruins that appear in the wilds. ¡°When I was a young boy, one of my favorite uniques to read about was ¡°The Shaper¡±! He¡¯s been around for hundreds of years, and I think he still lives somewhere in Norwalkin. Anyway, he has the amazing ability to take material objects and alter their identities as if he were simply enchanting the essence that makes up their very core. He can take a simple stick and ¡®shape¡¯ it into a bow that nobles from tier 5 cities would sell their heirs to acquire. The stories of his travels where he would aid promising heroes in their various quests was always a wonderful way to pass the time between my studies,¡± Nick finished, his face full of longing for a simpler time. Nero listened closely to what Nick was saying, surprised to hear about sounded like ¡®heroes¡¯ from the stories he¡¯d heard back home. He could almost picture the green-haired beauty known as the Siren, and see her calmly controlling her city from within her sea-side tower. The astrologician was obviously a rugged archaeologist, delving into ruins and living a life both in the past and the present. But ¡®The Shaper¡¯ was understandably the most interesting. He sounded like Merlin, going around and inspiring legends wherever he went. Nero finished cleaning his plate with the last of the bread, then put away the plate into his personal space without bothering to clean it. Looking up, he could see Nick lost in thought about his childhood love of ¡®The Shaper¡¯s¡¯ stories. Nero decided to give him a minute, and didn¡¯t interrupt his moment of nostalgia. ¡®So I guess my ability to see what¡¯s really going on in the ether is going to earn me some sort of nickname. Hopefully it¡¯s not ¡°The Perceiver¡±, or ¡°The Eye¡±. I wonder how they choose the names. If they bother to ask me¡­ I¡¯m gonna go with ¡°The GOAT¡±. Considering that no one in this world would get the reference, and that stories may eventually make it into the annuls of the kingdom, all of them referring to the adventures of ¡®The Goat¡¯, I¡¯ll be able to laugh at that well into whatever after-life I eventually stumble into,¡¯ he thought to himself with a smile. Nick¡¯s voice brought him out of his thoughts, ¡°Well Nero, that¡¯s more or less what a unique citizen is. The details, of course, are a little more complicated. However, in a way, you¡¯re right. Not much will probably change for you, other than how people may start treating you. Considering that you already think you¡¯re more special than you are, I doubt you¡¯ll notice much of a difference. Anyway, if you¡¯re done eating, we should go speak with the Captain. I¡¯m sure he has orders for you. Perhaps you¡¯ll be heading back to Dorchester. For what it¡¯s worth, I¡¯m sure you¡¯ll be able to handle whatever challenges you¡¯ll face in the future.¡± Nero looked at Nick in confusion, ¡°Why are you talking like we¡¯re not going to be facing it together. You¡¯re my elderly, decrepit, wisdom-toting mentor. Wherever I go, you go, and Vera is in charge of our loot. So, keep your wits about you and keep up. We¡¯ve got shitty nobles to deal with, lizards to massacre, cities to save, and magic to explore.¡± As Nero was talking, he stood up and kicked Nick to get the old man moving. Smiling at his young friend, Nick followed him out of the tent and muttered, ¡°Right you are Lord Walker. Let¡¯s see what today has in store for us.¡± Chapter 158 - Society puts you in your place whether you like it or not. Mike scratched the skin surrounding the link currently fused to his temple. The damned thing itched terribly, and served as a constant reminder of what he¡¯d gotten himself into. Since joining the 39th Search and Clear team as a ¡®rehabilitative recruit¡¯, Mike had finally gotten a chance to see how the criminal element of Dorchester lived. Though, it wasn¡¯t like he¡¯d never had scrapes with the wrong side of the law before, it had just never been to this extent. Before this, the worst he¡¯d ever had to do was a year of community service acting as a sewer clearer, and that was only because he and a few of his friends had gotten drunk and accidentally destroyed a building during a bar-fight. Now though, he was a convicted criminal, surrounded by hard-cases and malcontents. Looking over to his left, he saw a burly man with dead eyes calmly staring forward as if nothing going on around him really mattered. Mike grimaced at the sight of the man¡¯s unconventional link glowing in his temple, it took up almost the entire side of the poor man¡¯s head. ¡®I¡¯m not sure I even want to know what he did to earn a fully implanted link,¡¯ he told himself. Once again, he scratched the skin around his link, not liking the fact that he was only just one step away from the same fate. It wasn¡¯t like he didn¡¯t understand why they fused his link, but that didn¡¯t mean he was at peace with it. But what did he expect, were they really going to let a convicted criminal currently serving out his sentence head outside the walls without ensuring that he would be forced to return after the mission? He came out of his musings when he saw his unit¡¯s Captain take the podium at the front of the plaza. Captain Druza seemed like an alright guy to Mike. The man was tall, well built, and everything that Mike expected a Captain in the army to be. Every time they¡¯d interacted, the captain was professional and didn¡¯t seem to harbor any resentment for leading a group of criminals and low-lives. As far as Mike was concerned, he and the captain shared the common trait of just wanting to put in their time, and then move on. The captain looked out over the assembled men and women of S&C39 and said, ¡°I¡¯ve got good news and bad news. The good news is that from here on out, your time in this unit counts for double from what you were being paid before. The bad news is that our mission has been changed. While we were initially going to be just providing relief to a survey team out in the wilds, we¡¯re new being retasked to aid in rebuffing an actual incursion from the kobalds. Even worse, we¡¯re going to be meeting them in the wilds outside the walls.¡± The 500 strong unit of troops started muttering their surprise and unhappiness with what they were hearing. It was understandable, as the idea of directly confronting an invading force outside the walls seemed idiotic when they could be just as easily be fighting with the aid of the well-proven defenses. The captain nodded, apparently expecting the discontent his words would cause. ¡°I understand your concerns, and I raised them myself. However, Dorchester command decided that it isn¡¯t the time to abandon the exterior city and they aren¡¯t willing to let the kobalds have free reign outside the walls. So, along with many other units, we¡¯ll be heading outside the walls to cull their numbers until they have no choice but to scurry back under the mountain and wait for us to finish wiping them out.¡± There were a few chuckles at the captain¡¯s jape, and Mike could see that most people were accepting of the captain¡¯s inability to change their circumstances. It didn¡¯t come as a surprise to anyone here that the people in charge make the decisions, and everyone else is responsible for figuring out the best way to survive carrying them out. Captain Druza continued, ¡°Now those of you who are only here on temporary assignment are going to have to get used to living with a fused-link. It¡¯s a regrettable fact that with how bad the essence has gotten outside the walls, there is no other way for us to keep track of you. As it is arguably an unregulated abuse of power, feel free to lodge a complaint with Tower of Law and see if you can swing some kind of compensation for the inconvenience. Maybe they¡¯ll knock a few years of your sentence, I have no idea. That being said, I don¡¯t want to hear any complaints about it, because it has very little to do with me. I¡¯m only concerned about using your talents to get our job done, while making sure as many of you live to see the end of your term as I can. Regardless of your past, you are all citizens of Dorchester, and I know each and every one of you is capable of growing into a champion of humanity if you are willing to put in the effort.¡± Mike smirked at the captain¡¯s tacky pep-talk. He was well aware of the doctrine the rehabilitation programs used, that every opportunity to reform and encourage should be taken advantage of. But, he still thought it was amusing to see the ever-serious captain being so bad at it. It wasn¡¯t the first time Mike had seen the captain try and inject some lesson into an otherwise normal briefing, and every single time it had been obvious to the point of being insulting. ¡®Subtle¡¯ the man was not. ¡°Now, as we don¡¯t have a lot of time until we move out. Make sure to stop by requisitions and get your gear. We meet back here in one hour, and then we join up with the rest of the assault force outside Gate 22 immediately after. That will be all, you¡¯re dismissed,¡± he said, then stepped down from the podium. Mike scratched his temple and thought to himself, ¡®Looks like I¡¯m heading back to the wilds after all. At least it¡¯s better than heading underground, this way I still get to see the sun.¡¯ ----- After stepping out of his tent, Nero was letting himself be led by Nick over to 0the command area. It had only been a few hours, and he was surprised to see the cave had been transformed into a well lit, organized, fully-established camp. There were now pillars interspersed throughout the cave holding up the ceiling and providing anchors for essence lights. The walls had been smoothed out, and the cave entrance now had fall back positions with walls and raised platforms turning it into a kill-box. Even the command area had been considerably upgraded. Nero walked down a few steps into a circular depression where a stone table had been raised. The same sergeants from before were now sitting around as Captain Angelton leaned over some maps pointing at something while giving out orders. Compared to the folding-table they were using before, the current scene was much more professional and Nero was having trouble with how quickly everything had changed. ¡®Just how long was I sleeping?¡¯ he wondered. The captain looked up and almost smiled. ¡°Lord Walker, you¡¯re here. Good,¡± he said, very nearly sounding pleased. Nero felt his skin crawl at seeing the normally serious captain acting so out of character. He looked around the table and saw the sergeants all smiling at him. The reception was so odd, that he wondered what they were going to ask him to do. No one was this happy to see someone without having an ulterior motive. Frowning, Nero walked up to the table and said curtly, ¡°OK. Cut the act, what do you want?¡± The captain¡¯s very small smile faded as if it had never been there, and he replied, ¡°I thought Verena would have told you? Although it is not official yet, I have every confidence that you will be raised to the status of a unique citizen of Oglivarch. Congratulations are in order, and I am proud to have been there at the beginning of your path. I believe I speak for everyone here when I say that we hope you consider staying in Dorchester, and helping us through the current crises¡¯ facing our great city.¡± Nero¡¯s frown faded into confusion, and he looked around the table to see the sergeants all looking at him with hope and respect. It was extremely weird, and he didn¡¯t know how to respond to their completely illogical sincerity. This content has been unlawfully taken from Royal Road; report any instances of this story if found elsewhere. Feeling a slight pat on his shoulder, Nero nearly suffered a jump-scare as Nick started talking, ¡°Lord Walker doesn¡¯t really understand what being a unique citizen actually means, so you¡¯ll have to forgive him. If you look at from his perspective, he¡¯s already a new noble, and, in his words, he doesn¡¯t expect their to be much of a difference. For now, let¡¯s all try and treat him as a comrade, and then go from there.¡± Captain Angelton nodded along with all the sergeants, everyone seeming to take something different away from what Nick had just said. Nero looked up at his friend, curious as to what he was implying. Nick just smiled down at Nero, shaking his head as if it weren¡¯t important. Shrugging, Nero, as usual, decided that he didn¡¯t care enough to press the issue and find out. Instead, he changed the subject by asking, ¡°Okay, so what¡¯s the plan now? Are we going to acting as a harassing force behind the kobald lines?¡± Captain Angelton gave Nero a slight look of surprise, and replied, ¡°We will. However, you¡¯ve been recalled to Dorchester. You¡¯re team will be circling around to the North, and they will be escorting you so that you can meet up with an extraction force which will get you back behind the walls, safe and sound. After that, I¡¯m afraid I don¡¯t know what the general and the council will ask of you. But please consider that all of Dorchester could use your help. You can do great things here, and I hope you consider staying.¡± Nero felt a little shocked at how different the captain was acting. There seemed to a complete shift in the man¡¯s tone from what he¡¯d gotten used to. Choosing his words carefully, Nero replied, ¡°All right, I¡¯ll keep what you said in mind. When will we be heading out?¡± Captain Angelton raised his hand, gesturing off to the side. Nero saw Sergeant Wesker stepping forward, a serious look on his face. He said, ¡°We¡¯re ready to go when you are, Lord Walker. Take your time getting ready.¡± That clinched it, something was very off about the situation. Nero looked up at Nick with pleading eyes, nearly begging the man to explain what the hell was going on. Chuckling, Nick replied for Nero, ¡°Lord Walker will be ready shortly. Please prepare the rest of the team, and he¡¯ll be along after he collects his tent and gear.¡± Sergeant Wesker replied simply, ¡°Very well, we¡¯ll be ready.¡± Nero allowed himself to be led away, while looking back over his shoulder in confusion at the command staff watching him leave, all of them unabashedly smiling as if they were sucking up to a superior. Turning around, he locked eyes with Nick and hissed, ¡°What the fuck, man? What the hell was that? Have they been possessed or replaced by pod-people or something?¡± Nick continued to lead Nero through the cave, back to his tent. Sighing, he said, ¡°Nero, you have to try and understand their point of view. Remember when you were raised to nobility and you asked me why everyone at the center was staring at you?¡± Nero nodded, and replied, ¡°Yeah. So, it¡¯s like a celebrity thing? It¡¯ll die down once the novelty wears off?¡± Nick shook his head, and said, ¡°No, Nero. This is entirely different. When you were raised from a commoner to a noble, that was something people could be envious of. But becoming a unique? That¡¯s something altogether different. Provided it is actually approved, and I can¡¯t see how it won¡¯t be, you¡¯re new status puts you outside the regular social structure. So much so that cities will actively try and recruit you. While noble houses are restricted to their home cities, and their expansion strictly regulated, a unique is allowed to go wherever they want in Oglivarch. For that reason and more, they are two completely different things.¡± Nero was stunned. He tried to figure out how to compare it to something he¡¯d recognize, but he was having trouble trying to find an Earth equivalent. The closest thing he could think of was the various levels of celebrity back home. There was the local hero who was celebrated, but treated with envy. Then there was the larger local celebrity, like the news anchor, who people were happy to recognize. But then there was the famous people that were turned into fantasies by the majority of people. No one was jealous of the A-list actor, instead it was more like hero-worship. Nero, from the corner of his eye, could see the same men and women he¡¯d been fighting alongside the day before were now looking at him with goofy smiles and an underlying sense of ¡®awe¡¯. Considering that just about everyone here could probably kick his ass, it was extremely disconcerting. Nick seemed to be amused by Nero¡¯s response to his new-found celebrity. Nero quickly packed up his tent and supplies, eager to get away from all the uncomfortable staring. Before long, he was reunited with Rose, Cathleen, and Wesker near the front of the cave. While the sergeant was now showing the same signs of hero-worship that the rest of elites were displaying, Rose and Cathleen didn¡¯t seem to be acting all that different than normal. As he approached, Nero offered the ladies a smile in thanks for treating him the same as always, but his happiness wilted when they greeted him. Rose was the first speak, ¡°Lord Walker. Congratulations on having your talents acknowledged. I knew from the first time I saw you that there was something special about you. If you need anything, anything at all, please don¡¯t hesitate to ask.¡± Wesker stood right next to her, nodding along like an idiot. Nero couldn¡¯t help but notice the man had apparently chosen to forget any animosity he¡¯d been harboring for all the times Nero had screwed with him. Yet, Cathleen was the worst. She looked over at Nick with her typical stare that hovered somewhere between a feral grin and an uninterested dismissal of everyone around her, while saying with a bit of a bite, ¡°I told you he was an unprecedented talent. Perhaps next time, as a researcher, you¡¯ll think twice before dismissing an opinion from a warrior with experience in things you know nothing about.¡± Nero looked up at Nick, seeing the man¡¯s smile twist into a grimace at the rebuke. Nick coughed into his hand and replied, ¡°Yes, well, I apologize for not taking your remarks about Lord Walker¡¯s potential seriously. I agreed with you that he was special, I just didn¡¯t realize how much. But that¡¯s in the past. Now, we have a job to do.¡± Sergeant Wesker stepped up, eager to put in his two valens. ¡°That¡¯s right. We have to get him back to Dorchester immediately. We can¡¯t have him out here under the threat of the kobalds. It¡¯s imperative that he be protected.¡± Nero¡¯s jaw dropped. Where was the man who had been quietly plotting his death? The man who used to be a son-of-a-bitch constantly finding ways to criticize him was now standing there like a bodyguard, excited to throw himself into danger for Nero¡¯s well-being. The entire situation was out of control, and Nero felt the urge to start slapping the shit out of people in order to get them to knock it the hell off. But instead, cooler heads prevailed, and he allowed them to do whatever it was they were going to do. All he could do was assume they had some sort of plan for getting past the kobald¡¯s scouts. After all, it wasn¡¯t like the front of the cave wasn¡¯t currently being watched. Yet no amount of mental preparation could have prepared him for what happened next. Apparently, their brilliant plan for sneaking Nero out of the area was to have two 20 man assault teams storm the kobald encampments to distract the enemy while Nero and his team ran away. Looking over his shoulder, Nero saw the shouting elites ripping apart what few defenses the kobalds had managed to set up, tearing through them like mad-men intent on causing as much destruction as they could, in as little time as possible. As he and his team made their way around the mountain, and the sounds of fighting began dying down, Nero asked loudly, ¡°So, if I¡¯m understanding this correctly, being categorized as a unique citizen is kind of a big deal, right?¡± Nick looked over at Nero with a smile and replied, ¡°I tried telling you, but as usual, you only hear what you want to hear.¡± Nero nodded, accepting Nicks rebuke for once. The man had said that it was entirely different than being a noble. In a way, it made sense. Dorchester had a lot of nobles, but he was the only ¡®unique¡¯. ¡®Well, I always knew I was awesome. Maybe I¡¯ll get a certificate or something to prove it. I can hang it on my wall so that people will know that I¡¯m important. Hopefully people will be more impressed with it than my award for winning that flippy-cup tournament back in college. Not to mention the ceremonial beer mug I got to take home. I wonder if this time I¡¯ll get a medal, or maybe a t-shirt. It better not be a sash though,¡¯ he thought to himself, as he lost himself in the hazy memory of defeating the girls volleyball team in the flippy-cup finals. Chapter 159 - Give me some context please. Mage Adept Newbanks stood near the back of the mage tower¡¯s central control room, monitoring the disciplined chaos with a practiced eye. Her domineering presence ensured that the thirty mage team currently managing the tower¡¯s scrying control system would do their job to the best of their ability. She had made it clear that she would no longer tolerate the mages of Dorchester¡¯s poor performance ruining the reputation of the Tower of Magic. Although she knew most low-tiered mages treated their jobs as secondary concerns to their personal development, the culture here in Dorchester was by far the worst she¡¯d ever seen. Perhaps it was a result of the previous court-mage¡¯s influence, whom she¡¯d heard had a mind for politics over magic. Or maybe it was the due to the region¡¯s previously pathetic essence density, which while useful for essence-flow research was incredibly stifling for practicing mages. In the end, she didn¡¯t really care. Even though, her purpose in coming to Dorchester was to discretely ensure the king¡¯s plans were carried out, she couldn¡¯t stop herself from addressing some of the local mage tower¡¯s most obvious shortcomings. After seeing how poorly the local mages reflected on the profession as a whole, it was almost a reflex to punish them until they started acting like the mages they pretended to be. Glancing at the central pillar, she watched the battle which was being transmitted to army central command through a dedicated communications link. The large hologram displayed the overview of the battle in real-time, with several angles creating a vivid 3d model of what was currently happening. Occasionally the image would blur, as the essence disruptions in the area interfered with the scry. Every time that happened, the surrounding mages would cringe, hoping that Mage-adept Newbanks wouldn¡¯t publicly berate them in front of their peers. Her tongue was almost worse than the spells she pummeled them with in the arena during her ¡®personal training¡¯ sessions she forced on those unlucky few who caught her eye. Shaking her head at their barely satisfactory performace, she left them to their work. She had a scheduled scry-connection that she couldn¡¯t miss. After making her way through the tower, she shut herself in her private office, sealing the room from any outside interference. Her preparations went quickly, and she stood in the middle of the room waiting for the appointed time to send out the connection request. She nervously continued to check her internal clock, not looking forward to the report she would have to give. Finally, the time came for her to activate the private communication orb, powering it through the array under the floor. The large orb hovered in the middle of the room, The connection established itself, and she dropped to one knee and waited for the image to stabilize before speaking. ¡°Sire, greetings from Dorchester,¡± she said humbly. The king looked as calm and collected as he usually did. His powerful, yet quiet, voice seemed to shake the room when he said, ¡°Rise adept. I haven¡¯t been watching closely, but last time I checked there weren¡¯t any serious deviations or issues that needed to be addressed with the plan, so I¡¯m curious as to what prompted you to alter the agreed upon communication schedule.¡± Mage-adept Newbanks stood up, forcing herself to keep her hands from shaking. ¡°Well, your majesty, I don¡¯t exactly know what happened. Everything was going to the plan, Lord Walker¡¯s team and the elites were put in the path of the kobald invasion point just like you asked, and I made sure to hide my involvement from any interested parties just as you commanded. However, I think there might be an issue with the time-table. The attack happened just like you predicted, but it was much too soon for our other plans to keep pace.¡± The king frowned, then looked off into the distance, obviously using his prodigious powers to peer into the ether and investigate the situation. Mage-adept Newbanks stomach dropped as she saw the king¡¯s eyes widen slightly, which, to her, showed the king¡¯s obvious shock at what he was seeing. His face once again blank, he turned to look at Mage-adept Newbanks and said, ¡°That does indeed change things. The kobald invasion occurring this early means that they will most likely never even reach the walls. I¡¯m not sure if the current plan can be salvaged.¡± The king seemed deep in thought, but Mage-adept Newbanks couldn¡¯t help but speak up, ¡°Sire, the city lord is already looking into the disillusionment of her consort agreements. I¡¯m confident she will be free of any attachments within the month. If managed correctly, the plan should still be viable.¡± The king¡¯s face displayed a very tiny hint of a smirk when he replied, ¡°That won¡¯t matter anymore. It seems that a petition was just filed to elevate Lord Walker to unique citizen status. I very much doubt a situation will arise that we¡¯ll be able to use to entice him into marriage. At this point, even if I personally declared Dorchester his territory, I don¡¯t think he¡¯d accept it.¡± Mage-adept Newbanks jaw dropped in shock at the revelation. ¡°Then, sire, I don¡¯t see how we can pit him against the Tower of Fate anymore. Even they aren¡¯t crazy enough to plot against a unique. Without him as a fulcrum, how will we keep the mages interested in the plan, not to mention the other towers which need to be drawn into the conflict?¡± The king shook his head slightly, his features almost softening in amusement. ¡°I¡¯m not sure we can. The young man will most likely still save Dorchester, just as I predicted. However, I don¡¯t think it will be in the way I expected he would do it. I have to say, it is refreshing to see him constantly carving a new fate through what would otherwise be a normally simple political game. It¡¯s no wonder the matrix is having so much trouble predicting his moves.¡± As a studied mage, Mage-adept Newbanks knew the scientific principles behind how fate prediction worked, and the fact that even the matrix of fate had troubles predicting Lord Walker¡¯s actions made her uncomfortable, to say the least. The king raised his chin, as if he were done this topic for the moment. His voice returned to its usual serenity as he said, ¡°For the time being, continue as planned. Until I see how the next few days play out, you¡¯ll just have to try and do what you can to ensure Lord Walker stays in Dorchester. Now, more than ever, he¡¯ll be essential to city¡¯s survival and keeping the mage council antagonistic toward the Tower of Fate. Despite his new status, he still has a part to play in the greater game. The key to our victory is not relying on his actions, but carefully managing our own.¡± Nodding her head, Mage-adept Newbanks replied, ¡°As you command, your majesty.¡± ----- The trip across the mountain turned out to be less intense than he thought it would be. There weren¡¯t too many monsters, and the ones they did see were much weaker than the one¡¯s they¡¯d encountered in the eastern wilds. As such, Nero had plenty of time to mull over his newfound social standing, and how it affected the people around him. The conclusion he came to after being shoved to the back of the formation by Sergeant Wesker, and ¡®protected¡¯, was that he really didn¡¯t like it. As a long-time trouble maker, mischief-lover, and troll, he felt most at peace when he was treated with caution, or at least thought of with some hostility. By far, the worst part about the current situation was that Rose¡¯s calculating gaze had all but disappeared, only to be replaced with doe-like eyes filled with nothing but loyal support. Rose and Wesker¡¯s illogical personality shifts were enough to make him want to tear his hair out in frustration. Luckily, Nero had to only put up with them for a single night before they were met by the troops Captain Angelton had told them to expect. This book is hosted on another platform. Read the official version and support the author''s work. Upon meeting up with the 40 person squad, the Captain in charge greeted Nero with a smile, ignoring everyone else like they didn¡¯t matter to him at all. The man just gestured for one of his sergeants to go talk to Wesker while he walked up to Nero and bowed dramatically, his teeth shining like he was applying for a tooth-paste commercial. ¡°Lord Walker, it¡¯s an honor to meet you. My name is Captain Erik Ventir, 2nd heir of House Ventir, leader of the 32nd armored assault squad out of Gate 19. General Branson personally requested that we ensure your safety and deliver you to Dorchester command as soon as possible. Please be assured that we are the best of Dorchester¡¯s forces, and you¡¯ll be utterly safe in our care. Do you or your companions need any healing, food, or rest before we head out?¡± he asked, while his troops arranged themselves in a support formation around Nero¡¯s team. Nero watched as the burly men and women in impressive armor spread out in the defensive formation, every one of them giving off a feeling of danger and strictly controlled violence. Nero looked up the tall man, and replied, ¡°Uh¡­ no. I think we¡¯re good. Let¡¯s just get going.¡± Seeing Nick¡¯s watching the interaction with a grin on his face, Nero felt like throwing something heavy at the man. While Nero was distracted with Nick¡¯s mocking amusement at his situation, Captain Ventir¡¯s loud shout of, ¡°Rippers! Move out!¡± made him jump a little in surprise, then cover his ears with his hands in a wince. Nero saw that Cathleen had appeared on his left, while Nick stayed on his right. Rose and Wesker took the lead, everyone surrounding him in layers of protection that made him feel like he was being led through the mountains like an overly-important young master, or more likely someone currently under arrest. Feeling a little restless, Nero tried to make some conversation while they were moving. ¡°Hey Sarge, why did the captain refer to them as ¡®rippers¡¯?¡± he asked, hoping to get the man talking so that he would stop being so stand-offish. Wesker looked over his shoulder to address Nero, seemingly perfectly happy being surrounded by steel-clad soldiers treating him like a delicate flower. ¡°Different teams typically adopt monikers or titles to express their team¡¯s unity and camaraderie. ¡®Slicers¡¯, ¡®Boomers¡¯, ¡®Killers¡¯, some even take on animal names which are pretty common. When I first joined the monster hunting squads, I was assigned to the 103rd MH Scratchers out of gate 11. We were known for taking down prairie bulls and larger monsters that are usually only found in the open areas around Dorchester. I¡¯m guessing the ¡®rippers¡¯ got their name because of their preference for jagged weapons and the ¡®tearing¡¯ style wounds they cause.¡± Nero leaned forward so he could see past Nick, trying to examine the ripper¡¯s weapons so he could see what Wesker was talking about. Each of the ¡®rippers¡¯ were carrying jagged swords that looked like turned off chainsaws, but much thinner. Like always, the moment someone bothered to answer one of his questions, it only spawned another thousand in his head. Figuring it was pointless to get into the vagaries of weapon construction, he replied, ¡°OK. That makes sense I guess, thanks.¡± Sergeant Wesker smiled, nodded, then turned back to continue walking in front of him, as if he were more than happy to just wait for Nero to address him whenever he felt like it. Nero shook his head a little at the man¡¯s total personality change, then looked up at Nick and asked, ¡°Hey man, so if I am a unique or whatever, what¡¯s going to happen to House Walker? Am I still a lord, or more importantly, what happens to all the money I¡¯ve acquired? I¡¯m not like automatically ¡®adopted¡¯ by the state or something, am I? Cause if that¡¯s the case, I promise you that shit¡¯s going to get real crazy, real quick!¡± Nick chuckled, well aware of how Nero tended to assume whatever situation he found himself in would be horrible, and require justifiable violence, or at least harsh language to get himself out of it. ¡°No Nero, you¡¯re not going to be ¡®adopted¡¯ by the state. You¡¯re still the head of House Walker, and you will still keep all of your money and business interests. Nothing really changes in that regard. Well, mostly. In a way, it¡¯s good that you already have Vera as a proxy because that will make things a little easier for you,¡± he said. ¡°What do you mean?¡± asked Nero. Nick replied, ¡°Well like I said before, unique citizens are not bound by the city of their birth, or more to the point, they are bound to the kingdom as a whole. Therefore, they are kind of like royalty in their own way. Like members of the royal family, they can go wherever they want, establishing their presence in whatever city they deem fit. There are of course fewer restriction for unique citizens, as they aren¡¯t bound by the royal family¡¯s house rules dictated by the king. In fact, unique citizens can, if they choose to, open a branch house in any city they want, without restriction. So, here in Dorchester, you could sire a child, then have Vera raise them to be your house head in Dorchester while you went off to wherever you wanted and did the same thing in the next city you visited. The branch houses will all pay tribute to you and further your interests while you attend to the duties of your position.¡± Nero offered Nick a look that conveyed every inch of his unhappiness with what he was hearing. ¡°OK. That all sounds great, I think. But a couple things jump out at me from what I just heard. One, what the hell do you mean I can ¡®sire a child¡¯ and have Vera raise him to be my representative here in Dorchester? I don¡¯t have any intention of knocking someone up and then taking off to go see the sights across the kingdom. And what ¡®duties¡¯ are you talking about? Am I getting involuntary drafted into a particular duty, or not? I put up with joining the army because it was temporary and it got me my title or whatever, not to mention that it sounded like fun, but until I hear exactly what the powers-that-be want me to do, I¡¯m not agreeing to anything.¡± Cathleen, who¡¯d been walking alongside of them, chuckled happily. ¡°As a unique, you don¡¯t have to do anything you don¡¯t want to. In fact, you now have the ability to just tell the powers-that-be what you¡¯ll be doing, and then request for them to pay you for the privilege of sponsoring your interests,¡± she said, her voice implying that Nero seemed to deserve what was coming to him. Nick added, ¡°That¡¯s right. Unique citizens typically choose a personal pursuit, then apply for funding through the capital. Or at least I think that¡¯s how it works. I¡¯m not sure of the specifics, but almost every unique I¡¯ve ever read about has had some grand personal project that they dedicated their life to. I know for a fact that The Shaper¡¯s quests are sponsored by the crown. So, you can probably just choose whatever you want when you meet the king.¡± Nero¡¯s head snapped around as he asked, ¡°Wait, I¡¯m meeting the king now?¡± Nick replied quickly, ¡°Not now, but at some point. Why does that surprise you? You were already going to Hennings to receive your award for the exploit you¡¯ve found. Huh? Now that I think about it. I wonder how being a unique will affect the meritorious award you have coming. I¡¯m pretty sure uniques don¡¯t pay taxes.¡± Nero¡¯s eyes widened as he practically yelled, ¡°I don¡¯t have to pay taxes! Vera¡¯s going to shit a brick!¡± Cathleen coughed, trying to contain her laughter. Apparently Nero¡¯s new position was enough to finally crack her ever-serious exterior and finally allow the personality Nero always knew she had to come bubbling to the surface. Nick all the sudden became a little serious as he changed the subject a little. ¡°One thing you¡¯ll have to do before anything else is file your paperwork for the completion of your trials of nobility. Once that¡¯s done, you¡¯ll then need to quickly choose some adherents for your house. I strongly recommend you do that before you leave Dorchester. I¡¯m sure Vera will tell you the same thing, a house is only as strong as its members, and right now, you¡¯re only member is Vera, and she¡¯s only a temporary hire. Regardless of what she tells you, I¡¯d not count on her being with House Walker forever. That being said, I¡¯d appreciate if you didn¡¯t mention this conversation to her,¡± he said, while sharing a warning glance with Cathleen who just nodded along in agreement with what he was saying. Nero was having trouble keeping up with the information dump he was getting. He was barely getting used to being a noble, and now he was going to have to get his house in order. He¡¯d hoped he would have a few years before he needed to deal with any of this, but it looked like that wasn¡¯t going to happen. Furthermore, Nero was having the uncomfortable feeling that Nick was readying Nero to say goodbye. Since finding out Nero was going to become a ¡®unique citizen¡¯, Nick had stopped treating him like a current friend, and started treating him as if he were a friend from college he was soon to be leaving behind. There was an unspoken distance developing between them that Nero was decidedly unhappy about. Looking up at his friend, he asked, ¡°What are the chances that I¡¯ll be leaving Dorchester in the immediate future?¡± Nick replied with a soft smile, ¡°Very likely. I¡¯d be surprised if Hennings weren¡¯t already sending someone to collect you as we speak. Of course, you¡¯ll still be allowed to go wherever you¡¯d like, but I doubt you¡¯d want to come back to a city currently under the threat of multiple city-destroying crises. But don¡¯t worry Nero, I¡¯m sure wherever you end up, we¡¯ll still be able to see each other once in a while. I doubt a unique will have any trouble arranging inter-city transportation.¡± Cathleen spoke up, her tone a little too eager for Nero¡¯s liking, ¡°I¡¯d recommend heading North. There you will find a great many opportunities to test your skills, and push your potential to its limit. If you want to continue to grow, you can¡¯t hide yourself away in a tower, you must face the world boldly and overcome the challenges that are presented to you on your journey.¡± Nero listened to them both assuming things about his future with a growing feeling of annoyance bubbling up in his gut. If there was one thing he hated, it was people assuming they knew what was best for him. In fact, it might be a core character flaw of his, since he had the same problem in his past life. Whenever someone had told him that ¡®it only makes sense¡¯, he almost instinctual took the opposing viewpoint. On more than one occasion he¡¯d proved that he could be the very definition of a ¡®contrary individual¡¯. Frowning, Nero said, ¡°Look. I don¡¯t know what¡¯s going to happen. None of this class designation crap means much to me to be honest. I¡¯ll happily not pay taxes, and getting payed for doing whatever I want sounds right up my alley, but if they expect me to leave you guys in a lurch, they can kiss my pale cream colored ass. I haven¡¯t even had a chance to visit the mansion I won off that douche-nozzle Dorken, and I¡¯ll be damned if I leave Dorchester before I get a chance to start my T-shirt company. If I wanna stay here and fight kobalds, monsters, and assassins, then that¡¯s exactly what I¡¯m gonna do. Besides, you both still have shit you have to teach me, and I still have to figure out how Howie manages to carry around his spell-forms the way he does. So, both of you stop acting like I¡¯m going off to my great reward. We¡¯ve still got nobles to fleece and deals to make. Got it?¡± Nick and Cathleen shared a look over the head of their young friend, both of them feeling a profound bond with their little protege. Nick replied, ¡°Sure thing, Nero. We¡¯ll just have to see what happens.¡± Nero nodded, his steps becoming a little firmer as he stomped through the mountains on the way back to Dorchester. ¡®Sons of bitches wanna tell me what to do!?! I¡¯ll show them. I bet this is all Jennings fault somehow. That asshole wanted to get me out of Dorchester from the beginning. If this is all some stupid plot or something, I swear I¡¯m gonna piss in his coffee pot,¡¯ he promised himself darkly. Chapter 160 - You can never go home again. Arch-mage Jennings mentally flicked through the various research papers and historical accounts that caught his eye in the local archives. Their contents were infinitely more interesting to him than having to listen to the useless prattle going on in the council of mages¡¯ hall of magic. They¡¯d been at this for days and he didn¡¯t feel like hearing them once again argue pointlessly over the best way to combat the Tower of Fate¡¯s influence throughout the kingdom. Since this all started, each and every day more information had been collected on the fate-weavers¡¯ legally gray practices, and their alarmingly prolific influence with the nobles of the cities that had allowed a Tower of Fate to be erected within their walls. After a while, he¡¯d stopped reading the reports as they were becoming mind-numbing and repetitive. Yet, the council of magic was still demanding his presence via long range scry-link for these meetings. Perhaps if he were there, in Hennings, he could convince them to leave him be and deal with it on their own. Besides, that way if he had to deal with all this regrettably important work, he could at least do it from the comfort of his own office. Originally, he¡¯d come to Dorchester to watch over the anomaly, but with how annoying the essence disturbances were getting outside the walls, it really wasn¡¯t worth the effort at the moment. Although, if he¡¯d really wanted to, he could have probably set up a permanent secondary frequency modulation within the tower to aid in his scrying. But did he really want to watch the young man prancing around the wilds, dealing with these low-tier essence events? By his calculations, nothing major should happen in the next few weeks, so he might as well enjoy some personal relaxation time. He was sure that Mage-adept Newbanks was more than capable of handling everything that needed doing. His thoughts were interrupted when he heard Arch-mage Mathers¡¯ loud voice shout at him through the scry-link that had become an ever-present connection between his office in Dorchester and the council chambers back in Hennings. ¡°Jennings! I asked you a question! Pay attention to the meeting dammit. It¡¯s because of your fumbling over there in that backwater that we¡¯re coordinating a shadow tower war on a scale that hasn¡¯t been seen since the time of the kingdom¡¯s founding,¡± he said with some venom. Before Jennings managed to reply, Arch-mage Mathers visibly took control of himself, then said, ¡°However, your input, while appreciated, is not actually needed. So, if you¡¯d like to retire and play with your magic out there in Dorchester, all you have to do is ask. But, if you are going to participate, lead, and organize this war, then you¡¯d best start remembering how to conduct yourself as a council mage of the highest order.¡± By the time he was done, his voice filled with the righteous fury of a disgruntled school-teacher admonishing an absent-minded student that had been nothing of a disappointment to him. Arch-mage Jennings¡¯ frowned, unhappy with being called out in front of the entire council for not paying attention to the meeting. ¡®I¡¯m not even in the room! What does it matter if I¡¯m not particularly interested in hearing about how the propaganda campaign to counter the Tower of Fate¡¯s expansion plans is going in the eastern Marshes,¡¯ he thought to himself, refering to the last thing he had heard before he stopped paying attention. Yet, he was not the preeminent mage in the kingdom for nothing, so he wisely kept his mouth shut until he was able to carefully formulate a reply. Even though he was still nominally in charge of the council of mages, Mathers had been running the place for the past few months, and doing a damn-site better than he ever did. Jennings would be the first to admit that he hadn¡¯t done his own paperwork in years. In fact, his skill levels in delegation and management were far and away more advanced than any of his leadership skills. Regardless, he had no intention of stepping down, or even admitting to any shortcomings, real or imagined. Using his link to quickly review the meeting¡¯s automated minutes, Jennings found the record of Mathers¡¯ question. With his prodigious mental power, it took him less than a few seconds to peruse the relevant paperwork. Those seconds were easily bought by the gentle clearing of his throat. Having researched, internally debated, and formulate his opinion, he had no trouble addressing the council as if he were a scholar with a prodigious background in the subject. ¡°If you¡¯d like my opinion, then I¡¯m more than happy to provide it. I believe that the proposal for personal collaboration with the local nobles through the use of court-mages will meet with limited success at best, and in the long term, it would more than likely ultimately lead to disaster. If we were to copy the Tower of Fate¡¯s method of success, then we will be choosing to fight them from a position of weakness. They have had years to build up their connections, while ours are limited to business relations within the scope of the standardized economy. By trying to universally adopt a subculture of favors and interconnected business dealings, we¡¯d be opening ourselves up to the same corruptible influences that have turned the Tower of Fate into what it is today. So, I would caution you all to think very carefully before proceeding with this proposal,¡± he said, skillfully adopting the air of a wise and all-knowing arch-magician. The arch-mage who¡¯d developed the plan in question huffed loudly in order to draw attention to himself. Not willing to debate Jennings, he replied harshly, ¡°Then what exactly do you propose? You¡¯ve done nothing but demand action, without giving us any hint of a direction. Do you expect us to charge into their Towers and physically bring them down, city by city?!? Do you know how many lives would be lost? How much collateral damage we¡¯d cause? The council of leadership wouldn¡¯t stand for it, and we¡¯d be wiped out right alongside those fate-weaving imbeciles.¡± Jennings nodded sagely, then replied, ¡°After careful consideration, and with the benefit of our deep research into the Tower of Fate¡¯s reach and practices, I see only one path forward. We must meet their influence with the only counter which is impervious to retaliation¡­. Logic! We will create comprehensive overviews of the study of fate, and the history of predictive magic. In each city we will post lesson plans, historical social accounts, details of the limitations and drawbacks to the practice, and above all, we will never dissemble or provide rhetoric.¡± Arch-mage Mathers nodded along as he listened to Jennings proposal. ¡°That is actual an extremely intriguing idea. The reason so many people follow the Tower of Fate is because they don¡¯t understand the concept of fate magic. To them, it¡¯s a powerful and incomprehensible magic that is reserved for those who devote themselves to the High-Prophet. For most people, the subject is not something they¡¯d ever consider researching. I don¡¯t think most city archives even have limited access to the magic, as it was categorized as a restricted subject,¡± he said. Another council mage chimed in, ¡°We¡¯ll have to be careful to only cover the outlines and descriptions on the subject. We can¡¯t violate the terms of the secrecy accords. But I think just publicly defining the concept as a style of magic will eliminate most of the allure surrounding the practice.¡± Jennings smiled and added, ¡°Hundreds of years ago it worked with the religions, so I don¡¯t see how the Tower of Fate will handle it any better than they did. Furthermore, while religions still exist due to their undeniable benefits and rewards, the Tower of Fate is not delivering on what they promise. We¡¯ll use the backdrop of what is happening here in Dorchester as the reason for our focus on the topic. In that way, the fate-weavers will have no rebuttal to our stance. After all, it is impossible to refute reality. You can misrepresent it, massage it, hide it, but you can never combat it directly. Ours is the study of magic, and if there is one thing that we¡¯ve learned, it¡¯s that the world¡¯s identity is much stronger than our own.¡± This content has been misappropriated from Royal Road; report any instances of this story if found elsewhere. The entire council chamber was quiet as they digested Arch-mage Jennings¡¯ words. The man was arguably the wisest man in the kingdom, and his thoughts and opinions carried great weight in the halls of power. Like always, his words held meaning beyond the scope of what average mages like them could comprehend. While everyone was basking in the brilliance of their leader, Arch-mage Mathers received an emergency update from one of their ¡®friends¡¯ in the Hennings hall of leadership. His eyebrows rose to his forehead and his jaw dropped open in shock. Like a bomb going off, the awed silence was interrupted by Arch-Mage Mathers shouting, ¡°Dammit, Jennings! Why didn¡¯t you tell us that the anomaly has been put up for ¡®unique citizen¡¯ status? Has the council of leaderships envoy arrived in Dorchester yet? If we¡¯d known about this, we could have included a member of the Tower of Magic into the retinue. Now we¡¯ll be starting the game at a disadvantage! We can¡¯t let others co-opt someone of his potential!¡± Arch-mage Jennings had lost count of how many times someone had angrily asked him why he hadn¡¯t bothered to tell someone something. As such, his instinctive response was usually to reply that ¡®they didn¡¯t need to know¡¯, or ¡®they¡¯ll understand his hesitance to include them in the matter if they were willing to give it some thought¡¯. Yet, here and now, the words just died in his throat. ¡®How in the infinite hells did no one bother to tell ME that the little shit was up for another class promotion. And on what grounds are they making him a unique! Even I¡¯M not a unique!¡¯ he thought to himself, his mouth opening and closing in a futile attempt to come up with a coherent response to Mathers¡¯ justifiable outrage. Figuring that he should probably start paying closer attention to what was going on around him, Jennings closed the various research papers and historical records he¡¯d been perusing and tried to regain what little composure he could muster under the circumstances. ----- During their brief trek through the mountains, Nero found the Ripper¡¯s style of combat rather brutal. The few occasions they¡¯d encountered beasts or monsters, he¡¯d seen them do just as their name suggested and ¡®ripped¡¯ them apart. Whatever weapons they were using seemed to be enchanted, because the wounds were gory enough to make Nero¡¯s stomach churn a little. Even with how much combat he¡¯d seen, it was still disturbing to see limbs flying off into the air, and meat hanging off the monsters in bloody chunks. He¡¯d gotten used to seeing clean cuts and slices, and what the Rippers were doing to their enemies was something else entirely. But he had to admit they were effective. In no time at all, he found himself once again heading through an unfamiliar gate into another new section of Dorchester. This time, the buildings were all rectangular boxes of stone, each painted with brightly colored paints to differentiate them from the houses and shops around them. Yet, the biggest difference he could see was that there weren¡¯t any trees or flowers on the street level. However, he could see the tops of the buildings had large trees providing shade, and every one of them hinted at private gardens hiding among the roofs above his head as he and the rest of his party made their way through the shopping district. Even in the fantasy novels he¡¯d read, he¡¯d never come across a style of architecture quite like what he was seeing right now. Unfortunately, he wasn¡¯t allowed much time to admire the sights, since the entire company of Rippers all but dragged him and his party through the streets, directly to the local teleporter so that they could deliver them to wherever it was they were ordered to bring them. Before long, he was once again at Dorchester¡¯s keep, the center of power for the entire city. Oddly, while he had expected to be separated from the rest of his party, apparently that wasn¡¯t plan. When the Ripper Captain dropped them off, he¡¯d told them that they were all requested to present themselves to the general, and that he was happy to be of service. Nero barely had a chance to thank the man before he and his troop of incredibly effective violence bringers left to go do whatever it was they did when they weren¡¯t delivering Nero¡¯s to the general. The keep¡¯s butlers, aides, chaplains, or whatever they were called, led Nero and his party through the halls, dodging well-wishers and fancy people not-so-politely requesting a moment of his time. Eventually the keep¡¯s employees were forced to hide the entire party in a waiting room, telling them that the someone would be along shortly to collect them. While he¡¯d been to the keep before, this time was proving to be an entirely different experience. When he had been just a noble, people were curious about him. But now, they were peeking around corners just to get a look at him. If there had been cell-phones here, he felt like he would have been assaulted by teams of selfie-demanding teens hanging off his arms like shackles. Thoroughly unsettled by how quickly everything had changed, Nero found himself sitting on a comfy couch, still wearing his combat leathers, clutching his satchel in front of him like it was the only possession he had left and he too uncomfortable to make himself at home in the unfamiliar room. His usual care-free attitude had been stifled by the continuous assault of absurdities he¡¯d found himself trying to process. Looking up, he saw Rose smiling widely while pouring him a cup of coffee. The fact that she was playing waitress while still being covered with dust and dirt from their stint in the mountains, her hair frizzy with grime and her leathers dirty beyond all belief was almost more than he could handle. Leaning forward, he picked up the coffee Rose had delivered to take a sip of the glorious beverage he¡¯d been missing. The feeling of the bitter drink warming his mouth made the neck muscles in his upper back begin to unclench. To his right, he saw Nick and Wesker calmly discussing the likely progression of the kobald war, while Cathleen was sitting off to the side of the room on the floor, probably meditating or something. He watched as Rose took a seat off to the left, pulling out some supplies from her pack to do something with her bow. ¡®She probably goes through a lot of bow-strings, huh,¡¯ he thought to himself. Shaking the useless thoughts out of his head, he took a few breathes to catch up with all that was happening. The last time he¡¯d been here, he¡¯d felt right at home, and at that time, he didn¡¯t feel intimidated in the least. The fancy d¨¦cor and servants hadn¡¯t made him feel out of place at all. So what had changed, he wondered? Was it really just the creepy fans watching him like a he was some sort of oddity? Closing his eyes, he let himself sink into his senses, examining his feelings and the overlapping fields in the ether around him. Time passed, and his muscles began to loosen. His nerves calmed down, and he slowly started to feel like himself again. ¡®It¡¯s the feeling in the ether. That¡¯s what¡¯s changed. I can feel the disconnect with the people and the city all around me. What used to be a collective feeling of humanity and community is now a feeling of exclusion. Aside from maybe Nick, everyone is giving off a vibe through their essence field that I¡¯m no no longer one of them. Not to mention, I can feel that those asshole mages are watching me again. I guess they were having trouble following me in the wilds, and now that I¡¯m back in the city they are eager to catch up on their favorite soap opera,¡¯ he thought to himself, a feeling of satisfaction with having isolated what had been bothering him since he arrived back in Dorchester permeated his entire being. Now that he had a better idea of what was causing his anxiety, he felt the uncomfortable feeling clinging to his psyche slowly disappear. For him, it had always been easy to dismiss things he had no control over. However, the unknown was probably the only thing he really feared. Nero¡¯s worst nightmare was being confronted with something that he didn¡¯t have an opinion on. Right or wrong, his poorly supported opinions were all he needed to get through anything. He could be facing a demon-lord, about to be tortured with all manner of unspeakable terrors, and his psyche would remain calm due to the fact that he thought Tim Curry¡¯s portrayal of Darkness in the movie Legend was better¡­ in his opinion at least. He felt his patented grin return, once again comfortable in the fact that other people were being stupid, and consequently their opinions didn¡¯t matter to him in the least. Almost as if the world had been patiently waiting for Nero to get himself under control, the doors to the parlor they were waiting in opened, and one of the aides said, ¡°Thank you for your patience. The general and the council will see you now. Please, allow me to escort you to your meeting.¡± ¡®Alright,¡¯ he thought. ¡®Let¡¯s see what the nobles want from me this time. But if they mention marriage one more time, I¡¯m taking a flame-thrower to this place,¡¯ he promised himself. Chapter 161 - Whats he gonna say next? The past few days felt like the ending to a long and drawn out nightmare for Sergeant Wesker. But, now, by the grace of whatever deities happened to be paying attention to him at the moment, he was finally going to be able to leave this cursed team and return to his regularly scheduled life. As he walked along the streets of Gate 23¡¯s central district, he mentally reviewed the numerous interactions he¡¯d had with Lord Walker which had caused him no end of grief. Whether it was the young man¡¯s disregard for orders, his incomprehensible attempts at humor, or his uncanny talent at whatever he put his mind to, Wesker couldn¡¯t recall a single instance where he¡¯d been able to understand what Lord Walker was thinking. The boy had been an enigma from the moment he¡¯d met him. Simultaneously extremely hard working, while being completely absent minded. It wouldn¡¯t have been so bad if it weren¡¯t for the fact that the young lord was just so damn competent. Wesker recalled the look in Walker¡¯s eye when the young man was setting the entire forest ablaze with natural fire, gleefully burning a mob without any regard for the consequences. Images of Walker skillfully fighting in melee with beasts twice his height flickered through his memory. Then there was Walker¡¯s unbelievable talent in magic. What kind of newly awakened monster required an actual war-mage to personally train them in combat-casting? Yet, above all, it was Walker¡¯s almost unbelievable skill at politics and strategy which had constantly forced him off-balance. Thinking back, he recalled that out of all of them, Walker alone survived the ambush, only to decimate every one of the enemies while still giving himself enough time to resuscitate his allies. At the time, it had been too absurd for a soldier like Wesker to accept. He recalled how brutally the young man treated that assassin whom he¡¯d pinned to a tree with his sword. The manipulative skill he¡¯d displayed during the interrogation that still made Wesker¡¯s hair stand on end when he thought of it. Ever since he¡¯d met the young lord, not for a single second had he trusted him. Something about the unusual young man had always struck him as wrong, or at the very least, inhuman. His talents were too broad. His play-style in the game too intricate. His actions too incomprehensible. No¡­ Wesker hadn¡¯t trusted him at all. Looking around the brightly colored street, smelling the fresh air of the city, listening to the chatter of the citizens going about their day, Wesker felt the last of the stress he¡¯d been under finally disappear. All because he know understood what he¡¯d been missing. Lord Walker was a unique. It was so obvious now that he was able to think about it objectively. It was likely that the only reason he hadn¡¯t realized it before was quite possibly a manifestation of the young man¡¯s talent. Obviously the young man¡¯s actions were beyond his comprehension. Uniques were not like the rest of them. It was common knowledge that uniques were weirdly powerful, abnormally wise, aberrant examples of humanity. It had been Wesker¡¯s mistake to try and understand the young man. All of his repressed rage, all of the inner turmoil, it could all have been avoided if he¡¯d just known the young man was incapable of thinking or acting like a normal person. Wesker couldn¡¯t contain his smile as he and the rest of the team were led through the keep and into their assigned waiting room. His essence field was radiating contentment as he joined Lord Verena on a couch. Despite the fact that he used to think of Verena as nothing more than a useless noble, every issue Wesker had had with the man had been addressed by the fact that he was one of the chosen companions of a unique like Lord Walker. Not everyone was cut out for interacting with that class of people, and Verena should be applauded for his skillful handling of the amazing young man. While he listened to Lord Verena¡¯s completely off-base thoughts on how he expected the war with the kobalds might progress, Wesker nodded along with a smile. The best part about of all of this, above and beyond the fact that the mystery of Lord Walker had finally been solved, was that after the meeting with the general¡­ there was a very good chance he¡¯d never have to see the little bastard ever again. He truly couldn¡¯t stop himself from smiling so hard his cheeks were starting to hurt. ----- Nero led his team through the keep¡¯s wide halls, prepared for whatever nonsense the general had waiting for him. He¡¯d come to terms, at least as best as he could, with the fact that his life was going to drastically change once again. Now, he just wanted to get it over with. The keep¡¯s aide opened the doors and announced loudly to the cavernous room, ¡°Lord Walker, and his companions!¡± He then bowed quickly before walking away. Nero raised a curious eyebrow at the man¡¯s peculiar behavior, watching the man hurriedly run off back into the hallway and swiftly shut the large doors behind him. Turning back to what he could only describe as a reception hall, he saw several people he¡¯d come to expect when dealing with a headache-inducing events. There was General Branson, City-lord Cosgrave, that law-woman Lord Bennings, a couple of other nobles he¡¯d seen during the meeting about the most recent attempt on his life, along with several other people he vaguely recognized. Yet, it was the ones he didn¡¯t recognize that made the hairs on the back of neck stand up. There were about 20 people with clothing styles he didn¡¯t recognize. That was his first hint that they weren¡¯t from around Dorchester, and their smug faces made it clear to Nero that not one of them was happy to be here. But for Nero, the biggest surprise was the obscenely large hall they were in, which was most definitely not a council chamber, and the vibe he was getting made him feel like this was not in any way an official city event. It was more like a meet-and-greet for muckety-mucks. The halls 30ft ceiling was filled to the brim with essence chandeliers and murals, propped up by sweeping supports leading down into pillars spaced up and down the sides of the room. The central area was a wide open space with pale marble flooring, giving the room a light, airy feel to Nero¡¯s senses. Along the sides were tables filled with various finger foods and fountains of colored water, which were quite possibly beverage sources if Nero had to guess. There were even a few smaller tables which were spaced out for smaller groups to use for leisurely conversations. All in all, it looked less like an official meeting, and more like a wedding reception as everyone was standing around in small groups chatting with fake smiles on their faces. There must have been around 40 people in the room, all of whom were staring at Nero and his companions. He, and the rest of the team, were frozen at the entryway, unsure of what they were supposed to be doing. Compared to the fancy outfits the nobles were wearing, they looked like local-yokels crashing one of the upper crust¡¯s dinner parties. If you stumble upon this narrative on Amazon, be aware that it has been stolen from Royal Road. Please report it. General Branson and City-Lord Cosgrave didn¡¯t waste any time, and approached the small party with overly cordial smiles plastered on their faces. Meanwhile, most people returned to their conversations. Although, there were a few who stood patiently, waiting for the introductions to be made. City-Lord Cosgrave initiated the conversation by saying, ¡°Greeting Lord Walker, I¡¯m pleased to see that you were able to make back behind the welcoming walls of Dorchester, safely and without incident. I apologize for the short notice, but I need to introduce you to the evaluation team sent to assess the petition for your unique status.¡± As she spoke, she stepped closer to Nero, gesturing him to move deeper into the room. Meanwhile, General Branson turned to the rest of the party and said, ¡°Sergeant Wesker, please take the rest of your team to the banquet tables. There is plenty to eat, and I¡¯m sure you¡¯re all looking forward to getting some real food after what you¡¯ve been through.¡± Obviously wanting to separate them, he raised his hand to steer the rest of the team away from Nero and the city-lord. Not moving an inch, Nero asked in a voice devoid of any warmth, ¡°Where¡¯s Vera? You didn¡¯t forget to invite her again, did you?¡± The rest of the team and General Branson paused after only taking a few steps, while City-Lord Cosgrave raised an eyebrow in surprise at Nero¡¯s blunt, almost rude, tone. After a second or two of uncomfortable silence, the tension was shattered by Nick attempting to stifle a chuckle. Seeing the city-lord and the general glaring at him, Nick¡¯s grin faltered a little as he said, ¡°My apologies. Pretend I¡¯m not here.¡± Nero offered Nick an eye roll, not surprised to see the man dodging the politically charged encounter with his typical shamelessness. City-Lord Cosgrave looked down at Nero with a calm smile and said, ¡°I¡¯m sorry Lord Walker, but as this is a matter directly pertaining to you and the petition for your new status, her presence wasn¡¯t required. Please understand, there is nothing nefarious about our intentions. As the leadership of the city, it is our responsibility to deliver you to the evaluation team without delay. It is a matter of law, and we have no intention of shirking our duty. When you meet them, be sure to¡­.¡± As she was speaking, two of the oddly dressed people walked up to them, clearly interested in joining in on the conversation. While Nero halfheartedly listened to the city-lord¡¯s bullshit, he took a good look at the new-comers, coming to the obvious conclusion that they must be members of the supposed ¡®evaluation team¡¯. The pair was a man and a woman, with the woman being a surprising 6 foot in height, easily dwarfing the man who was at most 5¡¯ 2¡¯¡¯. Both of them were wearing identical outfits. As a base, they wore thin, ankle length robes that had a gold choker sealing them at the neck. On top of that, they each had a weird leather skirt that lacked any material in the front. The ¡®skirts¡¯ were attached to ornate belts with some type of overly detailed golden belt buckles the size of a small plates covering their stomachs. Then, as if that weren¡¯t enough, they had matching jackets, tight-fitting, and with a ridiculously tall collars that almost reached up to their ears. And to top it all off, Nero got to see the first honest-to-god hats he¡¯d come across since he got here. They reminded him of fez¡¯s but were much wider at the top than they should be. Everything they were wearing was various shades of green, and on top of their hats were matching little balls of green flame that made them look like they cos-playing as human candles, begging to be mocked by everyone around them. As a result of the new-comers¡¯ hilarious outfits, he missed a great deal of what the city-lord was saying. The taller woman, with a face carved from stone and her chin in the air, rudely interrupted the city-lord by saying, ¡°You are Dorchester¡¯s new noble, Lord Walker?¡± Nero looked up at the woman, having trouble taking her seriously as his short height combined with her haughty demeanor made it difficult for him not to stare up her nose. Doing everything in his power to restrain the impulse to mock the woman in front of him, he replied, ¡°That is correct. I¡¯m the man, the myth, the legend, the one, the only, Lord Walker of House Walker. Known to the internet hermits as the master debater, the prevaricating speaker of truth, he-who-likes-coffee, and finally to my closest friends, I¡¯m referred to as the not-so-tall. But if you¡¯d like, you can simply call me Nero.¡± OK. So Nero couldn¡¯t stop himself from mocking her. The woman¡¯s confusion was palpable, and Nero¡¯s heart grew two sizes as he saw her look down at the man next to her who had an equally confused look on his face. Meanwhile, he took advantage of his mental perception to watch the general¡¯s smile falter, as his face turned red from embarrassment. The city-lord just sighed heavily, apparently having grown used to Nero¡¯s antics. But his companions were the true treat. Wesker looked like he had been hit by a stun gun, and Rose was frozen in fear of what might happen next. Cathleen, bless her soul, didn¡¯t bat an eye. And Nick, glorious Nick, was smiling ear-to-ear mumbling, ¡°The Nero-not-so-tall¡­ I¡¯m gonna have to remember that.¡± To her credit, the woman recovered quickly, replying, ¡°Yes, well I believe we¡¯ll stick to the standard model of address and refer to you as Lord Walker during our evaluation. We¡¯ll require one of our retinue to join you during your day-to-day activities, so that a record of your abilities can be compiled. We¡¯ll also need access to as many of the witnesses with first-hand observations of your accomplishments as are available. The local Center-Research facilities should be sufficient to provide the scientifically verifiable data we¡¯ll need to confirm your abilities and approve of your elevation to your new citizen level. As for accommodations, your estate should prove adequate for our needs, and ¡­¡± Nero listened politely with a smile, enjoying the woman¡¯s assumptions about what he¡¯d be willing to put up with. In a way, it was endearing to be reminded that there were still people in the government who acted like pompous pricks and expected everyone to go along with whatever they said. As she droned on, further digging herself into a hole, Nero¡¯s smile grew wider as waited for her to finish with her demands. Luckily for her, the city-lord was well aware of Nero¡¯s personality, and she interrupted the woman after seeing Nero preparing for a return salvo that might result in all of Dorchester getting put to death for rebellion. Stepping slightly in front of Nero, the city-lord addressed the evaluator with a smile, saying, ¡°I¡¯m sure all of that can be arranged without issue. For now, however, we should give Lord Walker an opportunity to eat and recover from his time outside the walls. As promised, he was collected and brought to you without delay, but surely you can see that he and his companions are in no shape to deal with this at the moment. Rest assure, I¡¯ll be taking personal responsibility to arrange everything for him.¡± As she spoke, she skillfully turned the evaluator around by slipping her arm around the woman, and leading her off toward the rest of the guests. Nero watched the woman leave, his smile fading into a frown as if someone had just stolen one of his toys. The short man who¡¯d been accompanying the female evaluator turned around and followed the city-lord and the woman who was obviously his boss, doing a picture-perfect impression of a boot-licker. Looking over to his right, he saw the general standing there with a judgmental look on his face, while the rest of his party stood around him with varying degrees of relief painted on their faces. Nero met their stares, not apologetic in the least for what they all knew almost happened. Deciding that he didn¡¯t feeling like getting into it, he said, ¡°Well, that went about as well as it could have. So, are we gonna go eat some of this fancy grub, or what?¡± With a huff, the general turned around and walked off, apparently not interested in dealing with Nero when he was acting like this. Nero looked over at Nick, seeing the relieved looking man sporting a rueful grin on his face. Figuring his friend was the most likely to appreciate the comedy gold he was spitting, Nero asked with a shrug, ¡°Who would have guessed the general wasn¡¯t a fan of parties?¡± At that, the entire group walked off to follow the general, somehow coming to a silent, but mutually agreed upon decision to leave Nero to his games and get themselves something to eat. With a grin, Nero watched them leave. After successfully buying some time, he reached out to connect with his link so he could contact Vera. He had absolutely no intention of facing these bastards without someone skilled in these matters watching his back. Feeling the connection establish, he felt Vera¡¯s surprise at hearing from him. ¡°What are you doing back in Dorchester, Nero? I thought you¡¯d still be with the elites out in the mountains. You weren¡¯t called back to deal with the kobald¡¯s surface incursion, were you?¡± Realizing that Vera was more than a little out of the loop, he replied, ¡°Not exactly. Listen Vera, I need you to get down here to the keep. I¡¯m kinda in a situation I don¡¯t know how to handle, and I need your advice.¡± Vera¡¯s mental presence sharpened like a knife as she asked, ¡°What kind of situation?¡± Nero put his hands into his pockets as he sauntered off to one of the table filled with finger sandwiches as he asked, ¡°Well, what do you know about ¡®unique citizens¡¯?¡± At that moment, Nero would have given a significant portion of whatever money he¡¯d made since arriving in this world to see her face. Judging by how flustered her mental presence felt, Nero figured it would be worth it to have the priceless memory he¡¯d be able to cherish for a lifetime. Chapter 162 - Finally seeing the forest through the trees. With her arms folded under her more than modest bust, City-Lord Cosgrave stood off to the side of the room, ignoring the over-active nobles trying and failing to arrange themselves according to their rank. The room wasn¡¯t large enough for their aides to be allowed in, so the nobles were forced to figure it out themselves. She glanced at the technicians, each and every one of them focused solely on their assigned tasks. Despite several of them being related to one or two of the noble houses included in this very reception, not one of them had a problem maintaining their professionalism in the face of such a prestigious assembly. She was well aware that occasions like this were few and far between, and she wasn¡¯t surprised to see the nobles of Dorchester dressed in their finest robes, nervously trying to contain their excitement. Her senses alerted her to an approaching presence that seemed to dwarf the essence signatures of the nobles around her. Discretely turning her head, she watched as General Branson strode through the doors, his larger than usual frame overfilling the already crowded reception area. She wasn¡¯t surprised to feel the frustration emanating off his essence field in waves. Therefore, she didn¡¯t say a word when his glare caused the noble on her left, Lord Voltan, to take a few steps back, giving up his place to the general without complaint. After taking Lord Voltan¡¯s place, the general stood next to her and whispered a little louder than was necessary, ¡°Why wasn¡¯t I informed sooner that the academy¡¯s evaluation team would be arriving?¡± She rolled her eyes and replied, ¡°I only found out when the official request came through for a signal link from Hennings to our keep¡¯s astra-platform. The request was made through the tower of law, and I only heard about it because the paperwork required my signature.¡± Lord Bennings, who was patiently standing on the other side of the city-lord spoke up, ¡°Members of the kingdom¡¯s management teams, whether from the Academy or any of the central towers, are under no obligation to inform the local powers of their arrival.¡± Her tone was completely empty, as if what she were saying meant nothing more to her than a casual remark upon the weather. The general leaned forward a little, allowing him to look past the city-lord so he could glare at Lord Bennings while replying with a poorly contained growl, ¡°That doesn¡¯t mean you didn¡¯t know they were coming! If you approved the paperwork and sent it off, why in the infinite hells didn¡¯t you tell anybody!?! I had to hear it from an aide that just so happened to hear it from his wife! Do you have any idea how that makes me look?¡± Lord Bennings didn¡¯t bother to turn her head away from the platform as she replied calmly, ¡°Once your office filed the paperwork, I was bound by law to follow the prescribed procedures for the raising of a unique. If you didn¡¯t want them here, then you shouldn¡¯t have allowed the paperwork to be filed.¡± The general harrumphed, then leaned back to return to his position at the city-lord¡¯s side. She couldn¡¯t help but smirk at the exchange. It wasn¡¯t like she didn¡¯t know the reason the general was unhappy. In a way, she was in a very similar position. Both of their jobs would be much easier if they were able to control Lord Walker for a little while longer. Yet, once that damnable Captain Angelton filed the official request, everyone¡¯s hands were tied. What had been, up until now, an unspoken suspicion had now been voiced, and they were all powerless in the face of the kingdom¡¯s laws. Too many people knew, too many reports had been filed, too many people saw what the young man was capable of. She, and everyone with any lick of sense, had known for a while that the young man was special. Their silent agreement concerning their combined interest in his future had been decided when he¡¯d first started making waves. As such, the situation should have been handled more carefully than this. The answer to what made him so special should absolutely not have been discovered so soon. Nobody had known, or even wanted to know, what Lord Walker was really capable of, because if they knew, they¡¯d have to report it. Even the general had gone out of his way to use a nobody to spy on him, rather than any number of people who were familiar with the kingdom¡¯s scouting protocols. Glancing to her right, she noticed the general¡¯s clenched jaw, and his repressed anger at having the situation now completely out of his control. Sighing, she turned back to stare blankly at the astra-platform, waiting for the evaluation team to arrive. She¡¯d done all she could. She¡¯d hinted, she threatened, she¡¯d even executed her children to keep that damnable young man in Dorchester. Even the religious district had started talking about their gods¡¯ proclaiming the young man¡¯s talents. Dorchester needed Lord Walker to remain here, at least until such time as these crises were addressed. Ignoring the whispering nobles behind her, she reviewed every interaction she¡¯d had with the young man. While she hadn¡¯t exactly expected his talents to merit acceptance into the ¡®unique¡¯ class of citizenship, she had recognized that there was something profoundly different about him. She¡¯d mistakenly chalked it up to his origins, but she doubted his abilities came from anything other than some kind of mutation. That was the usual manner in which their power manifested. That is to say if there was anything usual about uniques. Shaking her head, she resigned herself to the world demanding his recognition. How else could she explain him being there, in the right place, at the right time to fully display his ability in a way that would be seen by the entirety of the city. If that wasn¡¯t the will of the world making itself known, than she didn¡¯t know what might qualify for that honor. One of the technician¡¯s shouted, ¡°Signal-lock confirmed. Hennings is sending the first group now. Readying to receive!¡± Straightening her shoulders, she was prepared to do whatever it took to manipulate events to her favor. ----- Nero walked over to one of the banquet tables, ignoring the subtle stares coming from the nobles all around him. They weren¡¯t that hard to ignore, as his concentration was evenly split between his conversation with Vera, and the numerous dishes that seemed to be calling out to him, begging to be eaten. With an easy grin on his face, he picked up a plate and started collecting whatever caught his fancy. He felt Vera¡¯s nervousness despite how calm she sounded over the link. ¡°So, your telling me that you alone closed a fully developed planar gate?¡± she asked, trying to understand how things had changed so quickly. While collecting a few finger sandwiches that looked tasty, he shrugged and replied, ¡°I guess. I think they called it a rift, though. Not sure if that¡¯s the same thing.¡± Vera replied, ¡°Alright, and after that?¡± Nero replied quickly, trying to sum up his experiences as succinctly as possible. ¡°Then we all ran away. I may have done some spell casting that made them all nervous. They accused me of¡­ well, I¡¯m not sure exactly what they accused me of. All I did was do the same thing the kobalds did, and it worked out pretty well if you ask me. Those little lizards are pretty clever, believe me. Anyway, after that, we disengaged from the fight and ran away into the mountains. When we were there, we had a meeting about what happened, and they asked some questions. Not to throw my boy under the bus, but I¡¯m pretty sure it was Nick that let it slip that I can see essence flows. At the time, I didn¡¯t know that qualified me as a ¡®unique¡¯ or whatever. As a matter of fact, I still don¡¯t see what the big deal is,¡± he said flippantly. Vera interrupted his summary, stating in a harsh tone, ¡°Nero, if you can actual see and interact with individual flows, then it is, in fact, a unique ability. Don¡¯t worry, I¡¯ll have to have a few words with Nick about discretion. You being elevated to the status of a unique citizen is great, but I¡¯d prefer it to have happened a few years from now. The Dorchester branch of House Walker isn¡¯t remotely ready for you to leave the city at this time.¡± Love what you''re reading? Discover and support the author on the platform they originally published on. Nero picked up what looked like a bacon wrapped sausage, which was held together by some kind of neon-orange paste. He curiously touched it with his tongue, interested in what such an unusual garnish might taste like. Surprised to feel his tongue tingly a little, he smiled and threw a few on his over-filled plate. Deciding to return to the beginning of the table and start a new collection, he began infusing the plate and its goodies with his center so he could steal it and all the food piled on top of it. Returning to the conversation with Vera, he said, ¡°Yeah, well, that¡¯s between you and him. I¡¯m still not really following everything that is going on. There is too much cultural bullshit that isn¡¯t translating. Like, I¡¯m having a bit of an issue understanding why everyone is treating me so differently, just because some paperwork got filed. Not only that, but I can tell there is a lot being said between the lines that I¡¯m just not getting. I may not be the most observant guy, but I can read a room like nobody¡¯s business, and I¡¯m telling you that there are undercurrents that I¡¯m completely missing. That being said, when are you getting here?¡± Vera replied quickly, ¡°Five minutes. Ten minutes at most. I put in an emergency request for advisory support on the grounds that the head of House Walker is meeting with a delegation from Hennings without his proxy. As you are still technically a new noble taking his noble trials, you are in your rights to demand my presence.¡± Nero was working on his new plate, this time picking from the trays he¡¯d ignored on his first pass. ¡°Uh huh, sounds legit. You want me to do anything in the meantime? I¡¯m getting the feeling that if I don¡¯t sit down and eat soon, the vultures are going to start picking at me,¡± he said, sensing several groups preparing to come talk to him. Vera chuckled at Nero¡¯s description of the nobles, and replied, ¡°Same as last time. Agree to nothing, say nothing, and just try and stall for as long as possible.¡± Nero nodded and replied, ¡°And I¡¯ll tell you the same thing I told you last time... No problem. See you soon.¡± After closing the connection, he took his full plate over to the table the team had chosen for their meal. As he approached, he frowned at seeing General Branson sitting at the table, leaning over and talking with Rose and Wesker. Deciding that the other side of the table looked more welcoming, he took a seat next to Cathleen and Nick, saying, ¡°Hey, how are you two holding up?¡± Cathleen shrugged, not bothering to turn away from her meal. ¡°Well enough. This menchroba is wonderful,¡± she said, her mouth full of some kind of meat. Nero tilted his head curiously, the unfamiliar term reminding him that not everything here has an English equivalent. Nick set down his glass and asked, ¡°I¡¯m assuming you were doing that thing you do when you want to stall. Have you contacted Vera yet?¡± Nero nodded, and replied with a grin, ¡°Yup, she¡¯s on her way.¡± Nick nodded, not surprised at Nero¡¯s not-so-clever plan. Even Cathleen seemed to have seen through Nero¡¯s ploy, as she just grunted and kept ripping meat off the little bones with her teeth. Frowning, Nero didn¡¯t like the idea that these two were starting to figure him out. After a few seconds of silence, Nero let it go, and changed the subject. ¡°OK. So who¡¯s going to tell me about the people with essence lights on their heads?¡± he asked. Cathleen snorted in amusement, but remained focused on her meal. As she was seated between him and Nick, for once she seemed to be included in the conversation. Nero absently noted how weird it felt to be speaking past her, as if he kept being surprised by her presence. ¡®I really need to ask her how she does that, like ¡®specifically¡¯ how she does it,¡¯ he reminded himself. Nick, unaware of Nero¡¯s internal dialogue, engaged in his favorite past-time and began lecturing Nero on the topic of the day. ¡°To start with, I should have guessed that they would be the ones we were meeting. Once the paperwork was put in for your new status, the filing would immediately alert the capital. There, the Royal Academy would be called upon to perform an evaluation of the candidate, namely ¡®you¡¯. The people with the essence lights on their heads, as you so colorfully put it, are scholars from the academy. They are the final arbiters of what is considered ¡®verified¡¯ within the kingdom of Oglivarch. While theories and ideas can be put forth by any number of organizations, they are only considered a ¡®truth¡¯ after they¡¯ve passed through the academy¡¯s scrutiny. In short, they are here to monitor you, evaluate your abilities, then present their findings to the king, who is ostensibly the head of the academy.¡± Nero sipped from a glass of what he thought was some kind of fruit-juice, listening carefully to what Nick was saying. ¡°So, the head of the state is in charge of defining what ¡®truth¡¯ is accepted by the people? Isn¡¯t that a little¡­ I don¡¯t know¡­ suspect?¡± Nero asked, wary of what a system of government like that might be capable of. Nick replied, ¡°Suspect? How? By tying the process to the kingdom, it eliminates third-party interest. The government doesn¡¯t care what the truth is, only that whatever it is, it is, in fact, the truth.¡± Nero chewed on that delightful bit of logic for a good five seconds. To him, the idea that the government wouldn¡¯t abuse a power like that was as believable as the link system being ¡®totally safe¡¯. He¡¯d already seen how bullshit that ¡®truth¡¯ was, so he didn¡¯t hold out much hope for the rest of what the academy was peddling. Good intentions or not, agendas are like assholes¡­ everyone¡¯s got one. Nero remembered Nick was a Center researcher, so he asked, ¡°Does the academy have anything to do with the Center?¡± Nick nodded, and replied, ¡°Yes, and no. You can think of the Center as the trunk of the government. Everything else is just a branch, creating the tree of the kingdom.¡± Nero chuckled. ¡°You guys really like your ¡®growth¡¯ metaphors, huh?¡± he said rhetorically. Nick ignored Nero¡¯s quip, continuing on with explanation, ¡°Every city, large or small, all the way down to the tiniest of villages is run by a center. Around that framework, the governing body arranges itself. Villages have town councils, healers, and sheriffs. While cities have leadership councils, healing centers, and guard stations. Things like the Academy, Towers, and Guilds are all additions that serve a specific purpose. When one of the towers makes a discovery, they send it through their own verification system, which then leads to the local center-research division, which then feeds it to the capital¡¯s Center, which finally sends it to the academy for final verification. Once that happens, the process is reversed through the archival system. In that way, knowledge is structured, and many competing theories can be developed outside of any interference from their competitors. Also, as a bonus, it allows the academy to designate what kind of secrecy level any discovery might need. It wouldn¡¯t do for a local village to have detailed records of how to convert a human into a lich, now would it?¡± Nero tried to picture the process, finding it overly-complicated and rather stupid. As a person brought up under the wonders of the free-market, that kind of governmental oversight seemed more than a little excessive to him. Cathleen spoke up, shocking Nero when she had something to contribute. ¡°That isn¡¯t to say there aren¡¯t local knowledge centers that haven¡¯t been verified through the kingdom¡¯s academy. Many places keep their local knowledge to themselves. Regional, and cultural beliefs may require that knowledge to be hidden from the kingdom, as it is none of their business. Just because a city is part of Oglivarch, does not make it ¡®owned¡¯ by them,¡± she said, hinting at something Nero had been wondering about. The more he learned about this kingdom, the more he likened it to states and the federal government. Each city, region, and area was more or less on its own, unless some arbitrary line was crossed. If he were to guess, it probably had something to do with the various accords he was constantly hearing about, all of which sounded, to him, like federal laws which couldn¡¯t be ignored unless they wanted to be obliterated by populators. All at once, several isolated facts arranged themselves in his head, clearing up several things that had been bothering him. Setting down his glass, Nero¡¯s face lost its usual grin as he started talking. ¡°That¡¯s why the populators only get involved when the government starts fighting. They were only here to make sure the nobles followed the rules. And they aren¡¯t coming to fight the kobalds, or deal with the density shift, because the city is expected to handle it on its own. I bet that¡¯s why Jennings hasn¡¯t done shit to help out with all that¡¯s been happening. Holy crap. Is that why he was being all cagey, and made Nick and the others discover the density shift on their own? Wait a minute, that doesn¡¯t make any sense. If people from outside Dorchester can¡¯t get involved, then how in the hell does the Tower of Magic have people in it from outside of the city. How do people immigrate?¡± Nick smiled at Nero finally starting to see the bigger picture. To him, it was like seeing a child finally starting to see the world as it really is. ¡°Nero, the towers themselves are a microcosm of the kingdom. The central towers in Hennings run all of the city towers. When members take their oaths to the tower, they pledge to serve in whatever capacity they are asked to, until their time is up. Regardless of where they are from, they are limited to the power and status of the city they live in. Even though Arch-mage Jennings is currently serving as Dorchester¡¯s court-mage, he can¡¯t use his power to solve its problems. He is only here to run the local tower. The work itself must be done by the locals. That is why center-point graduates are so important. That is how talent is injected into the kingdom¡¯s cities, and is the lifeblood of the kingdom.¡± Nero was starting to get a picture of how people here viewed their government. Much like back home, the only purpose of the government was to limit the freedoms of the citizens, at least from a pessimistic perspective like Nero¡¯s. The royals didn¡¯t want things getting out of hand, but they didn¡¯t want to overly restrict their citizenry, so they let the locals govern themselves for the most part. They stopped anyone from out of town from coming in and taking over. ¡®Son-of-a-bitch, that¡¯s diabolical. They went out of their way to stop the big-dogs from carving out their own little kingdoms. If someone wanted their personal fiefdom, they¡¯d have to build it from the ground up, within the framework the king provided. And then their little slice of heaven would have to abide by the few rules the capital wants enforced, under the threat of the populators coming in and burning everything they¡¯d built into the ground,¡¯ he thought to himself, both horrified and a kinda impressed with their forethought. Recalling that over the past day or two, someone had told him that uniques were outside of the class system, Nero felt the blood drain from his face. At that time, he hadn¡¯t really understood what that implied, but now he was starting to see how that put him in a very ¡®unique¡¯ position. Right as he was about to ask Nick about his newfound realization, he heard an aide shout from the door, ¡°Lady Vera Salvatore-Verena, Proxy to the head of House Walker, and wife of trial-taker Lord Salvatore-Verena of House Verena.¡± Looking over, he saw a stern-faced Vera making a bee-line for his position. ¡®Well, she doesn¡¯t look nearly as pissed as I thought she would be. Hopefully she has some ideas, cause I got nothing,¡¯ he thought to himself, feeling once again completely out of his depth. Chapter 163 - Corrupting the process. Vera rushed through the halls of the keep, her mind racing to come up with plots and plans along with their expected counters. She refused to let her feelings about Nero being a potential unique distract her from preparing for what she would soon be facing. It had been a long time since she¡¯d played a game with opponents from the capital, and it would require all her skills to not be outplayed in the coming confrontation. The problem was, she just didn¡¯t know enough. It wasn¡¯t like she¡¯d ever dealt with an ¡®evaluation team¡¯ from the academy. Were they really just here to confirm Nero¡¯s talents? Could they be the first faction that would vie for control of the young man? Perhaps a combination of the two. While they were here to evaluate him, could they also be under orders to collect him? Once he is outside of Dorchester, how was she supposed to protect him? Getting more frustrated by the second, she increased her speed through the keep. The elaborate artwork on the walls and the lush carpet faded into the background as she concentrated fully on what she might be walking into. Turning a corner, her steps faltered as the surroundings lost their color and the hallway became tinted in gray. Immediately on guard, she looked around to find that there were no longer any servants around, or anyone else for that matter. ¡°Don¡¯t be alarmed, you¡¯re not in any danger,¡± a voice said from behind her. Vera couldn¡¯t remember the last time someone had successfully snuck-up on her. Spinning around quickly, as she hadn¡¯t sensed the other person with her field at all. The moment she saw who it was, she immediately dropped her hands and assumed as passive an expression as she could. Fighting was not an option she would even consider given the circumstances. In front of her, she saw Arch-mage Jennings. He was just as she remembered him, his rune-inscribed robes gently glowing with power. Yet, she couldn¡¯t help but note that the man was agitated and on edge. If she had to guess, it looked to her like he was at his wits end. Considering how powerful the man was, that was an incredibly uncomfortable realization for her to come to. She absolutely needed to keep the man calm, as her survival might depend on it. Therefore, she schooled her features as best she could, trying to look as meek as possible. Arch-mage Jennings saw her calm down, not surprised to see her looking like she was resigned to her fate. ¡®I understand why my power intimidates people, but am I really that scary?¡¯ he thought to himself with a grimace. He hadn¡¯t intended to frighten the young woman. ¡°Stop that, I¡¯m not going to hurt you,¡± he said briskly, eager to get on with the conversation. Bowing her head, she replied, ¡°My apologies, arch-mage, but I¡¯m unfamiliar with this spell. I can only assume this is some type of localized isolation ward, which doesn¡¯t imply that I¡¯m particularly safe at the moment. Rest assured, I am willing to do whatever it is that you command.¡± He nodded quickly, pleased to see the woman¡¯s intelligence on display. ¡°Isolation ward? Yes, it¡¯s something like that. I wanted to make sure we have a chance to talk before you go and support young Lord Walker in his latest brush with the kingdom¡¯s politics. Don¡¯t think of this as me abducting you or anything, I just needed ¡®time¡¯.¡± Raising an eyebrow in surprise, she replied, ¡°Chronomancy? Isn¡¯t that impossible with the cities wards? Not to mention, incredibly illegal?¡± The arch-mage huffed as though he were offended at the accusation, before replying, ¡°I¡¯m not abusing time! I¡¯m merely overlaying a plane with reality that is running a little faster than the material plane at the moment. What kind of monster do you think I am?¡± Not understanding the difference, Vera kept her mouth shut and merely looked at the man while attempting to keep a very calm look on her face. The last thing she wanted to do was give a man like the arch-mage a reason to make her disappear. He was, most likely, the only person in Dorchester capable of killing someone without anyone finding out about it. He might even be powerful enough to manipulate the thought-hub, and wasn¡¯t that a terrifying prospect for her to consider. Arch-mage Jennings, seeing that Vera was waiting for him to continue, said, ¡°Look, I had to talk to you, and I didn¡¯t want anyone knowing about it. It¡¯s not like I had a lot of time to arrange a fancy clandestine meeting. So, give me a break, will you?¡± Vera had no idea what the man was talking about, but she nevertheless replied, ¡°Of course, arch-mage. What is it that I can do for you?¡± Rubbing his hands on his robes as if he were uncertain how to broach the subject, he said, ¡°I need you to make sure that Lord Walker stays in Dorchester. He cannot be allowed to leave right now. You¡¯re the only one he¡¯ll listen to, so I need you to counter whatever proposal those academics put forward. It is imperative that you succeed, do you understand?¡± By the time he finished, his fists were clenched as if he were struggling to contain his anger. Even though Vera was planning on doing that anyway, she still asked, ¡°May I ask why you want him to remain here? I thought you wanted him in Hennings? Not to mention, from what I understand after a brief perusal of the accords governing the uniques, they are all primarily based out of the capital. Or, that is to say, they are until they choose their sponsored personal pursuits.¡± Jennings nodded exaggeratedly, as if he had been expecting the question and was silently urging her to finish speaking. ¡°That¡¯s true. When uniques are found, they are brought to the capital, and then given the opportunity to choose their path. But it¡¯s not that simple. A lot of back-room politics happens which affect which opportunities are presented to the uniques, and it will be even worse for someone like Lord Walker. For one, his ability isn¡¯t applicable to only a few fields. That young man can do anything! Even worse, he¡¯s unmarried, and doesn¡¯t have any strong ties. For the sake of the heavens above, he¡¯s only been on this plane of existence for a few months! Those bastards are going to eat him alive. I learned about all of this too late, and I wasn¡¯t able to get anyone onto the evaluation team. I don¡¯t know which great houses are already moving, and I can only assume there are academics that are here to influence the young man. Even if I were to take him straight to the Tower of Magic in Hennings, it¡¯s too late to keep him hidden from everyone who has an interest in his future. You need to keep him away from all of that, and Dorchester is as good a place as any for the moment.¡± Vera listened carefully, not surprised to hear that plots to use Nero were developing rapidly. Apparently, the arch-mage¡¯s agitation is due to him having been outplayed. However, she couldn¡¯t accept that conclusion, because it seemed too ridiculous to be true. Furrowing her brow, she asked, ¡°I don¡¯t understand why you don¡¯t personally intervene if it means that much to you. As the director of of the central Tower of Magic, I don¡¯t see how any of the great houses can restrict you from acting.¡± Rolling his eyes, Arch-mage Jennings replied, ¡°It¡¯s not that simple. First of all, we¡¯re in Dorchester, which is currently under war protocols. That means that I¡¯m not allowed to advise, interact with, or influence anyone who is under the employ of the local council. Lord Walker is currently an elite in the army. I absolutely do not want the Tower of Law causing me another headache over this. Second, the great houses and the tower of magic are currently working together on completely different matter, one which I can¡¯t cause to be disrupted by sticking my nose into their business. That alone makes this a delicate situation. There is a lot I can¡¯t get into at the moment, but trust me, I¡¯m looking out for the young man. I don¡¯t want him getting into any more trouble, and sending him off to Hennings will most likely result in a lot of dead nobles and a plethora of blood feuds.¡± Vera, knowing what Nero was like, thought the arch-mage was making a lot of sense. Just imagining Nero interacting with some of the people she¡¯d grown up with, she almost felt like cringing at the chaos which would inevitably erupt. The young man was like a walking political bomb, just waiting to be set off. The story has been taken without consent; if you see it on Amazon, report the incident. Seeing that she was being receptive to what he was saying, the arch-mage continued, ¡°Furthermore, he still has a lot to do here. I cannot be specific, but I will say that his talents could be of great help to the city if they are utilized correctly by the council and the army. Think carefully on what his talent can do, and how it could be applied to the current circumstances. That¡¯s all I will say on the matter, and even that¡¯s pushing it.¡± Vera had a thought, and asked, ¡°Is that why you didn¡¯t just contact me over the link? You didn¡¯t want a record of this conversation to be logged, did you? Is the thought-hub even capable of monitoring this conversation while we¡¯re in this ¡®planar¡¯ event you¡¯ve created?¡± Arch-mage Jennings winced, unhappy with the woman speaking so plainly about things which shouldn¡¯t be said out loud. ¡°I don¡¯t know what you¡¯re talking about. I was never here, and if I were, I didn¡¯t say or do anything that violates any accords. I swear to all the gods above woman, if I have to sit through another scolding from Lord Bennings, I¡¯m gonna take it out on you in ways you can¡¯t even conceive of, you hear me?¡± Vera smiled slightly, finally getting the measure of the man in front of her. He was a lot like her husband. Incredibly clever, while being completely clueless. His place was in the lab, or his tower, but circumstances had forced him out of his comfort zone and he was feeling completely unbalanced at the moment. Despite being nearly a thousand years old, when she looked at him, all she could see was an incredibly powerful man-child that was being forced to deal with things he had absolutely no interest in. ¡°I understand,¡± she said. ¡°Do not worry, I¡¯ll do everything in my power to make sure your personal project isn¡¯t co-opted by another power bloc. But, for the record, you being so distant from the young man isn¡¯t endearing yourself to him at all. If you aren¡¯t careful, he¡¯ll forget you even exist.¡± Arch-mage Jennings squared his shoulders, trying to adopt the persona of a wise old man, and replied, ¡°I¡¯m merely allowing him to grow on his own, while supporting him from the shadows. Mark my words, one day soon, he¡¯ll be my apprentice.¡± Surprised, she replied, ¡°Uniques can be apprentices?¡± Arch-mage Jennings paused for moment, then dropped his shoulders a bit. His entire demeanor softened as he replied, ¡°I¡¯m not sure to be honest. I haven¡¯t had a chance to check. This is all moving in directions I wasn¡¯t really prepared for.¡± Throwing his hands into the air, he suddenly shouted, ¡°How was I supposed to know he was a unique?!? I thought the young man was just talented with essence weaving, and maybe a little more clever than the average Oglivarchian. The fact that the most interesting about him isn¡¯t his background is more than a little infuriating! It¡¯s like he¡¯s actively going out of his way to make things as complicated as he can. If I wasn¡¯t absolutely sure he didn¡¯t know beforehand about the unique accords, I would think the little bastard set this all up on purpose to screw with me.¡± Vera smiled at the incredibly powerful mage¡¯s outburst. ¡®That¡¯s what you get for trying to play a shadow game with Nero¡¯s path,¡¯ she thought to herself with some pride. ----- Nero watched as Vera made her way across the room. While he had expected her to be pissed, he thought that she looked more pensive than anything. It wasn¡¯t so much a look of concern, but more like she was deep in contemplation about something. Looking over, he saw that the weird academic lady and the city lord were heading to intercept Vera before she¡¯d make it to his table. Addressing Nick and Cathleen, he stood up and said, ¡°You two stay here, I¡¯m going to go back up Vera. The last time I let her speak for me, I almost ended up being married to the city-lord. I better get over there before she ¡®helps¡¯ me in a similar fashion.¡± Nick chuckled while waving him off. Cathleen just nodded without bothering to turn away from her meal. Hurrying across the floor, he walked up just as the city-lord and the academic greeted Vera. ¡°Lady Salvatore-Verena, allow me to introduce High-Academic Yelena Nurling of the Hennings Royal Academy,¡± said the city-lord, before turning to the high-academic and saying, ¡°This is Lord Walker¡¯s proxy and confidant, Lady Salvatore-Verena.¡± The city lord stood between the two women, watching as they sized each other up. She needed this to go well, as letting Nero handle anything was tantamount to inviting disaster. Nero took the opportunity to interject while taking his place at Vera¡¯s side. ¡°Vera¡¯s opinion means a great deal to me. In fact, as far as I¡¯m concerned, she¡¯s my interpreter for all this political stuff. So, if you could please tell her why you¡¯re here, that would speed all of this up considerably,¡± he said with a wicked grin on his face, his demeanor completely at odds with the non-threatening nature of what he was saying. High-Academic Nurling looked down at the young man she¡¯d been instructed to evaluate, trying to figure out what he was thinking while failing to interpret his subtext. Rather than let the woman misinterpret Nero¡¯s words, Vera took over the conversation. ¡°From what little I¡¯ve read about uniques, I¡¯m given to understand that you are probably the evaluation team sent by the Academy to verify Lord Walker¡¯s unique ability?¡± she asked, keeping her tone light and helpful with a polite smile on her face. Seeing that Vera seemed much more stable than the odd young man, High-Academic Nurling chose to reply to her while ignoring Nero completely. ¡°Yes, I¡¯m in charge of the evaluation team which will determine if Lord Walker¡¯s petition to become a unique citizen is approved. I recommend you explain to him what is at stake, and the penalties he could face if he doesn¡¯t change his attitude.¡± Nero scoffed, not intimidated in the least. He¡¯d spent the last few days killing kobalds and monsters. If she thought he¡¯d be worried about some politician¡¯s weak threats, she had another thing coming. Vera nodded, her smile remaining firmly in place. ¡°Of course, High-Academic. House Walker will of course comply with all legal procedures that it must. That being said, I don¡¯t believe it was Lord Walker who applied for anything. As an academic, you should choose your words more carefully. My husband is a researcher himself, and I¡¯ve learned the importance of clarity during negotiations,¡± she replied. High-Academic Nurling¡¯s face twisted into a grimace at the gentle rebuke. Having her position challenged by some nobody noble from this backwater was not something she¡¯d allow. ¡°This is not a negotiation. This is an evaluation. I¡¯ll be monitoring Lord Walker for as long as I deem it neccessary, and I¡¯ll also be testing his supposed talents in any way I see fit. I suggest you comply, or both House Walker and you can both suffer the consequences.¡± Nero, with a big smile on his face, replied in a voice loud enough to draw the attention of the entire room, ¡°Oh, really? That¡¯s good to know! What consequences? Try and be specific?¡± Looking down at the young man, she felt the surrounding nobles and her team paying attention to the budding conflict. With the anger clear on her face, she straightened up and raised her chin even higher. ¡°If you don¡¯t comply with my evaluation, then I will personally see to it that your application for unique citizenship does NOT go through. Furthermore, I will file charges with the Tower of Law in Hennings, condemning your house for falsifying their merits, misrepresenting their status, and filing a falsified claim under the unique accords. You and your house will be penalized severely, and as ¡®new noble¡¯, I very much doubt you¡¯ll be able to even keep your pathetically weak title. Especially not after I get done with you,¡± she hissed, completely fed up with this infuriating young man. She¡¯d been sent here personally by Lord Cranston to see if the young man was worth recruiting, but after meeting him, she was NEVER going to let that happen. She¡¯d raised 23 children, and she knew a trouble-maker and waste of resources when she saw one. This young man, from the moment she¡¯d laid eyes on him, had been nothing but combative and annoying, and she wasn¡¯t going to stand for it any longer. Vera paled at the High-Academic¡¯s threats, while the city-lord looked resigned to her failure to avert the disaster she¡¯d feared since hearing about all this. Meanwhile, Nero was nodding along, completely at ease with the woman¡¯s growing hostility. As far as he was concerned, all of this hinged one tiny misconception that completely invalidated the woman¡¯s perceived power. When she was done, Nero let the silence hang for a moment. Right before Vera, or anyone else managed to step in, he shouted, ¡°Nope! You¡¯re not going to do any of that, and I¡¯ll tell you why. First, I didn¡¯t apply for shit. So, you¡¯ve got nothing on me. You wanna go after the person who filed for my advancement, go ahead. Good luck on that. Second, who ever said I even wanted to be a unique? Third, and most importantly, any evaluation team that has an agenda is inherently biased. And if there is one thing I¡¯ve learned about this place since arriving here, is that things like that are all kinds of illegal. I bet that Tower of Law chick is just itching to file a complaint with your boss over what you¡¯ve just said,¡± he shouted, while pointing across the room at Lord Bennings, who was calmly watching the drama unfold in front of her. The entire room at this point was paying attention to their argument, as Nero had done all that he could to make a spectacle of himself. As usual, his plans relied on an audience, and a room full of entitled nobles and the woman¡¯s underlings was perfect for putting her on the back foot. Between the professional jealousy he expected of her subordinates, and the nobles who were probably hoping to interfere with his ascension to an even higher position they doubted he was worthy of, he figured that everyone in the room would have a vested interest in siding with him at the moment. ¡®Whether I end up a unique or not, I¡¯m sure as hell not going to enter into this evaluation without at least a little insurance that the situation isn¡¯t going to bite me in the ass. Last time I let these people run the show, I ended up having to do noble trials and dodge marriages while being sent off to fight truck sized monsters. Although, that last one turned out alright. But that¡¯s not the point. The point is, I¡¯m doing this on my terms or not at all,¡¯ he thought to himself, while staring up at the woman with an evil glint in his eye. ¡®Go on. Test me, bitch. See what happens,¡¯ he thought with a grin. Chapter 164 - That went... better than expected. General Branson sat down at the table with Sergeant Wesker and Rose Vikander. He could see that they were both waiting to hear what he had to say. Between them, there seemed to be an unspoken agreement that any orders they were previously operating under were now no long valid. It was one thing to monitor an unusual but promising young noble, but it was quite another to spy on a unique. Breaking the silence, the general kept his voice low when he said, ¡°Obviously, this situation wasn¡¯t something I¡¯d planned for.¡± Before he could continue, Rose interrupted him. ¡°Did you know? Is that why you chose someone like me to get close to him?¡± she asked, her usual timid persona having been completely disregarded. Rose, as a social chameleon, always chose to present herself in a way that furthered her goals. Whether it was hiding in plain sight while on a hunt, or looking like a scared little hunter hoping for help from an established senior in the military, she only showed others what she wanted them to see. Now, it seemed that she was no longer in the mood to play the weak little girl, instead she looked like an angry young woman who¡¯d been forced into a dangerous position and now wanted answers. Surprised at the question, the general leaned back in his chair and chose his words carefully. He absolutely did not want this young woman testifying in front of some tribunal about how he had manipulated facts in order to coerce her into spying on a new noble, let alone a unique, while in his employ. Trading favors like he¡¯d done with her was not only legally gray, it was also enough to permanently affect his career prospects. ¡°No, I didn¡¯t know he was a unique. I knew there was something ¡®off¡¯ about him, but nothing more than that. To be honest, I was more concerned about his foreign perspective than I was about his talent in magic. As that wasn¡¯t a concern, I didn¡¯t feel the need to investigate it. That¡¯s the reason you were chosen. You were to focus on his mentality, his skills and talents were merely a secondary consideration, at best. Nevertheless, here we are. I¡¯m sure I don¡¯t have to tell you that we won¡¯t be spying on him anymore, so neither of you need to file anymore reports on that matter,¡± he said, his voice utterly serious. Looking to Rose, he said, ¡°Our agreement will stand. You¡¯ve done good work, and I¡¯ll keep my word. You¡¯ll stay with the elites, and I¡¯ll find you a new team.¡± The general turned his head to address Sergeant Wesker, but changed what he was going to say when he saw that the man was staring at him in confusion. ¡°You have a question sergeant?¡± he asked. Sergeant Wesker coughed into his hand to clear his throat, then straightened up as if he were addressing a superior officer, which of course, he was. ¡°I¡¯m not sure I understand what the problem is. I mean, you both seam to be acting like we¡¯ve done something wrong. But, I was under the impression that monitoring a troublesome noble wasn¡¯t illegal. In fact, I specifically looked into it, and there wasn¡¯t anything in the regs that said anything we were doing was wrong. So, what am I missing?¡± Rose was the one to answer. She was obviously still angry about what the general had gotten her into. ¡°It¡¯s not the spying. It¡¯s the possibility that we were directly monitoring and influencing the path of a unique. Directing the path of noble is illegal, and I can only imagine the consequences of doing it to a unique citizen. The general personally chose Lord Walkers team-mates, his trainers, his assignments, not to mention the army¡¯s culpability in the assassination attempt on his life. All of this looks really bad if taken together,¡± she said, her voice nearly frozen it was so cold. The general grimaced at the accusation, while Sergeant Wesker replied, ¡°Well, he¡¯s the general? Of course he¡¯s going to be making those calls. But he¡¯d be doing the same thing for everyone in the army. How is him doing it for Lord Walker any different than anyone else?¡± The general scoffed and replied, ¡°It¡¯s not so simple. The problem is that by putting you and Rose next to the young man, it can be interpreted that I knew there was something special about him. Add in the fact that your team ran into assassins, ones who¡¯d had help from members of the military, and then the matter was swept under the rug with an arbitration agreement¡­ from a certain perspective, it doesn¡¯t look good.¡± Rose looked at the general, her face the picture of disbelief. ¡°Really? You think that¡¯s the biggest issue? You do realize our team was front and center in front of the kobald invasion. And it was the army who specifically put us there. With how little Lord Walker trusts Sergeant Wesker, I can¡¯t imagine what conclusions he¡¯s coming to. Even worse, the captain was the one who put forward the application for Lord Walker¡¯s status change, which makes this whole situation look even worse. It¡¯s like you all waited until you¡¯d be caught hiding him, then reluctantly admitted that you knew all along. Not to mention that you failed to protect him from assassination plots while trying to use his status as a new noble to force him into the army and under your control.¡± The general paled at the young woman¡¯s interpretation of events. If this ever went to tribunal, he¡¯d have to carefully manage the questions he¡¯d be asked, because a lot of what she said was, in a way, very true. He had pushed for Lord Walker to join the military. He had carefully chosen who would be part of the training program, and then limited those who¡¯d he¡¯d had a chance of interacting with. He was at fault for surrounding him with spies, and then promising that they were all removed while leaving one of his own on the young lord¡¯s team. Then there was the assassination attempt, and the subsequent arbitration agreement to hide it. Finally, to top it all off, he¡¯d personally agreed with the location chosen to deploy the young man¡¯s training group. While, at the time, he¡¯d thought he was a perfect place to hide the young lord away from the action, he¡¯d inadvertently put him right in the middle of the kobald invasion. If interpreted the wrong way, this did not look good for him. It did not look good at all. ----- Nero¡¯s smile was wide as he watched the High-Academic stutter, unable to come up with a response to his carefully worded reply. From the corner of his eye, he watched Lord Bennings approach, having taken an interest in what she was hearing. And after being called out by Nero, she didn¡¯t have much of a choice in the matter. ¡°Unfortunately, High-Academic, Lord Walker is correct. As a representative of the Academy, you¡¯re under a legal obligation to approach this matter with scholarly objectivity. From your tone, it is obvious that you are intent on abusing your position and forcing this potential unique to follow your orders. That is not only an abuse of your position, it is also illegal. As the duly appointed director of Dorchester¡¯s Tower of Law, I am invoking a temporary injunction on your duties until such time as I can speak with the Academy and inform them of what has happened,¡± she said, her voice never wavering while her tone remained perfectly controlled throughout her verdict. Nero¡¯s happiness was nearly roiling off his essence field in waves. That had gone massively better than he expected. At best, he¡¯d hoped for some support from the room, but he¡¯d never imagined he¡¯d get the snobby-bitch fired. Even better, whoever they sent as a replacement would be hesitant to piss him off after seeing what happened to their predecessor. High-Academic Nurling¡¯s face was so red, Nero wondered if she were going to have an aneurysm. Right as the woman started forming a reply, which would have no doubt been a hate-filled diatribe full of threats and questions about whether or not they ¡®knew who she was¡¯, Lord Bennings silenced her with a raised hand, and continued, ¡°There is no point arguing, the paperwork has already been filed. For now, I suggest you enjoy the party and then retire to your room along with your team until such time as your superiors contact you.¡± Turning her attention to Nero, Lord Bennings said, ¡°Lord Walker, your statement is not needed, as I will be including a memory engram of what I witnessed into my report. If you¡¯d like to add anything, please schedule an appointment with the Tower of Law. You have until tomorrow morning to have it included in the full report.¡± After that, she turned away, but paused at the last second only to look back at Nero and add, ¡°For what it¡¯s worth, I¡¯m proud to see a citizen of Dorchester having such trust in the system. We at the Tower of Law hold to our oaths, and stand between the citizenry and anyone who willfully interprets their position as a right to abuse those who are below them. Your service to the city has been noticed, and appreciated. Dorchester is behind you.¡± Then, she finished turning and walked off back to the group she had been speaking with. This content has been unlawfully taken from Royal Road; report any instances of this story if found elsewhere. While Nero watched her leave, his jaw dropped open in shock, High-Academic Nurling hissed, ¡°This is not over Lord Walker.¡± Then she too turned around and walked off to rejoin several of her subordinates, all of whom looked like they were regretting ever coming to this little slice of Oglivarch. Nero couldn¡¯t help it, and started laughing uproariously. ¡®Talk about buying time to figure some things out!¡¯ he said to himself with some relief. Feeling a harsh slap to the back of his head, Nero¡¯s laughter abruptly fell silent. Rubbing the back of his head, he looked up to see an irate Vera standing next to a relieved, but nervous city-lord. ¡°What the hell woman? What was that for?¡± he asked. Vera glared at him and replied, ¡°Can you not just keep your mouth shut for five minutes and let me do the job you asked me to? If you were going to cause such a disaster, why did you even bother begging me to come down here?¡± Nero shrugged and replied, ¡°I just wanted to buy a little time. I didn¡¯t know it would be this easy to throw a wrench in the whole thing. Besides, I still need you to interpret Nick¡¯s nonsense about how I¡¯m now all special and whatnot. You, at least, I can understand. Before this situation gets truly out of our control, you need to explain to me what¡¯s going on, and between the two of us, we can hopefully come up with a game plan.¡± Vera listened to Nero, then started nodding along, understanding where he was coming from. Turning to the city-lord, she asked, ¡°I¡¯m assuming Dorchester would like to retain Lord Walker as a noble within its walls?¡± The city-lord suddenly smiled, her face returning to the political mannequin Nero had gotten used to. ¡°Of course! Dorchester is proud to have fostered such a talent, and while it suffers under the many threats outside its walls, it hopes that Lord Walker will remain to aid it in its time of need.¡± Nero felt like clapping, impressed with the woman¡¯s impromptu bullshit. Despite how she sounded, he could tell that she meant every word of what she was saying. A fact which Nero found incredibly odd. ¡®What¡¯s the point of talking like that if you¡¯re going to tell the truth?¡¯ he wondered. As he looked at the city-lord with a hint of confusion on his face, he felt Nick approaching from behind him. Looking over his shoulder, he saw it was actually both Nick and Cathleen, the woman suddenly appearing in his senses. ¡®Seriously! How the fuck does she do that?¡¯ he wondered. Even more surprising, he saw Rose stomping towards him, her face looking incredibly serious in way he¡¯d never seen before. If he hadn¡¯t known it was her, he would have thought she was a completely different person, maybe Rose¡¯s older sister. She had the look of a person intent on getting a job done, and was no longer hiding behind the bubble-headed facade she¡¯d been using to appear as non-threatening as possible. The moment all three of them approached, Nero felt like he was surrounded. Behind him, the city-lord and Vera flanked him, while Nick, Cathleen, and Rose arranged themselves in a semi-circle in front of him. Nick and Rose exchanged a look, silently offering for the other one to go first. Cathleen, however, didn¡¯t bother with any niceties. ¡°I¡¯m guessing with all of this going on, you¡¯re probably not going to be staying with the elites. Whether or not you stay in Dorchester is probably also in question. Either way, I¡¯d like to officially request to join House Walker under your banner. As I doubt you have any idea what that means, I¡¯ll wait for your reply. In the meantime, I¡¯ll remain at your side, standing between you and your enemies. Where you go, I go, my lord,¡± she said, her even tone indicating her utter seriousness with what she was saying. Everyone was silent, but Nero felt a link request come through from Vera. Opening the connection, he felt her excitement as she said, ¡°Repeat my words exactly! I, Lord Walker, head of House Walker do solemnly accept your fealty and promise to¡­¡± Nero interrupted what she was saying, by mentally shouting, ¡°Nope! I¡¯m not doing shit until we all sit down and talk about this. I¡¯ve been agreeing to way too much while relying on way too little information, and that¡¯s going to stop right the fuck now.¡± Vera¡¯s response was immediate, and full of annoyance. ¡°Fine, that¡¯s your prerogative. But honestly, Nero, do you have to curse so much. You do realize that with translation magic, all that is coming across is you saying variations of ¡®expletive¡¯ when you use words like that. It doesn¡¯t mean anything to us other than you are feeling particularly strong about whatever point your trying to make.¡± The entire group remained silent, waiting for Nero¡¯s response. Only a few seconds passed. Yet, they were all aware something was happening when they saw Nero¡¯s face fall, seemingly saddened at some inner realization. Misinterpreting Nero¡¯s facial expression, Cathleen frowned and asked, ¡°Do you not want me to follow you, little lord?¡± Nero visibly shook himself, forcefully putting aside his complete and utter horror that he could no longer use swear words the God in his infinite wisdom, his forefathers, and the all-encompassing internet intended. ¡°Cathleen, I¡¯d be honored to have you with me. But until I have a solid grasp on what all of this means, I¡¯m gonna just rely on you being my friend and teacher. This whole noble thing was strange enough, and who knows if I¡¯m even going to agree to become a unique. So, for the time being, how about you just watch my back and I¡¯ll try and listen what little advice you feel like giving. Sound good?¡± Showing one of her rare smiles, she replied, ¡°Of course, my lord. I¡¯ll await your response, and protect you until such time as you provide me an answer.¡± Nero nodded, happy to have put off what threatened to be a rather long conversation. Rose took that opportunity to speak up. ¡°Lord Walker. I would like to respectfully request to also join House Walker. You once offered your help if I ever needed it, and I fear that the time has come for me to rely on your kindness. So, my lord, will you accept my pledge and allow me to serve you faithfully as an adherent of House Walker?¡± Nero¡¯s face twisted into brilliant display of total, and utter, confusion. ¡°You want to what now?¡± he mumbled. Nick added helpfully, ¡°Actually Vera, dear. I was thinking that if Nero becomes a unique, we could fold House Verena into House Walker as possibly a branch family, then we could be his representatives in Dorchester while managing his interests. What do you think?¡± Nero¡¯s head whipped around to look at Vera, feeling the connection he had with her snap with her shock at hearing what Nick was saying. For the first time, Nero got to see what Vera looked like when she was caught completely off-guard. Even when he¡¯d verbally dismissed the city-lord as a possible marriage candidate, she hadn¡¯t looked this flustered. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw City-Lord Cosgrave standing there, her face totally consumed by some inner calculation that Nero immediately dismissed as irrelevant. Figuring that with the evaluation team put on temporary hiatus, and having no desire to touch base with the general, Nero clapped his hands and said, ¡°Alright, so all of this seams super important, and probably requires some serious contemplation on my part. However, until such time as someone explains what the hell you are all talking about, I¡¯m suggesting we go to Nick and Vera¡¯s house and take a nap. It¡¯s been a long day, and I don¡¯t feel like being awake for any more of it. Therefore, I¡¯m going to sleep. We¡¯ll talk about this all later.¡± Turning to face the city-lord, Nero said, ¡°Thanks for the great party. It¡¯s been a blast. If anyone asks, I¡¯ve got a stomach bug, and I had to leave early. I¡¯m sure we¡¯ll talk soon. Goodbye.¡± With that, Nero ignored everyone around him and started walking off for the door. ¡®I¡¯m so totally done with today. I swear to god, I need an A.I. or some kind of personal assistant whose only job is to follow me around and explain what everyone around me is talking about,¡¯ he thought to himself, completely finished with the madness he was leaving behind. Not bothering to wait for the keep¡¯s aide to open the doors, Nero used his field to throw them open and walk out into the hallway. Abruptly coming to a stop, he looked left and then right, immediately realizing that he had no idea how to get to the front door. Hanging his head, he took a few second to breathe deeply and stop himself from screaming at the ceiling in frustration. Feeling a calming hand on his shoulder, he looked up to see Vera smiling down at him with an understanding look on her face. ¡°Come along, Nero. Let¡¯s get you home. We can figure this all out tomorrow,¡± she said. Nero nodded numbly. As he let himself be led through the halls in silence, he thought about how crazy this world was. Every single interaction was something to look forward to. Monsters and politics, magic and plots, friends and¡­ enemies? Was there some big bad working behind the scenes that he¡¯d missed? Eh, it didn¡¯t matter. For the time being, he was alive and he was rich. That¡¯s all that mattered¡­ well, that and magic. Tomorrow he¡¯d deal with the details. Chapter 165 - I didnt know that there was so much I didnt know. General Branson watched as Lord Walker and his group left the reception, not liking the fact that Rose was going along with them. Turning around, he looked at Sergeant Wesker and adopted an air of command, ordering the man, ¡°You¡¯re to head back to Gate 15 command and report in. File a final summary of your time with the team, then wait for reassignment. Rest assured, there is nothing you need to withhold from your report. We violated no laws, and you should not concern yourself with the politics. For what it¡¯s worth, I doubt you¡¯ll be seeing Lord Walker or any of your teammates any time soon.¡± The general noticed that the sergeant was trying and failing to contain his smile. It was obvious that the man was overjoyed at the prospect of finally getting away from the insanity he¡¯d had to put up with since being assigned to watch over Lord Walker. As the sergeant headed out, the general¡¯s mind raced as he tried to think through all the possible repercussions his decisions might eventually lead to. Looking back, he couldn¡¯t see a single mistake he¡¯d made. Every choice had seemed perfectly reasonable at the time. Yet now, after all that¡¯s happened, he was stuck dealing with a potential political shit-storm that might be large enough to spill out into the wider kingdom¡¯s political waters, not just the city¡¯s. He was brought out of his thoughts by the city-lord walking up to him. Seeing a look he couldn¡¯t decipher on her face, he wondered what the woman was thinking. She looked him in the eye and said, ¡°Lord Walker¡¯s surprisingly adroit political maneuvering bought us a little time. Lord Bennings assures me that we have at least until tomorrow to get our stories straight. As I see it, we only have one route forward, we need to put everything behind Lord Walker. As his allies, anything we¡¯ve done can only be construed as us doing everything we can to watch over and support him. What we did, we did in his best interest. We cannot allow ourselves to be painted as anything other than ardent supporters of House Walker. That is, unless you have another idea?¡± The general sighed, annoyed at having to deal with any of this. He was currently in the middle of a full-scale war. Every moment he wasted dealing with this political nonsense, was another moment he could have spent doing his job. Matching stares with the city-lord, he said, ¡°As we speak, my soldiers are fighting and dying to prevent this city¡¯s fall. I don¡¯t have time to be player in this game. If your plan can put this all behind us and let me get back to doing my job, I¡¯m willing to follow your lead. But, for the record, I did not know the scope of Lord Walker¡¯s abilities. My interest in him was purely due to his strategic competence and his unique¡­ that is to say ¡®uncommon¡¯ perspective.¡± The city-lord smiled at the general, and replied, ¡°Of course general. As a matter of coincidence, I was of the very same opinion. Now let¡¯s talk about how we can keep the young lord here and utilize his unique skill-set to survive the coming threats to our great city. After all, if you listen to the people, you¡¯ll hear that all of Dorchester is relying on him to save us.¡± The general snorted, well aware of the growing support Lord Walker¡¯s growing legend has been generating. He didn¡¯t know who exactly was behind it, but he knew for a fact that someone was. Had he not been keeping an eye on Lord Walker and his proxy, he would have thought the young man himself was behind his growing popularity. ----- Nero¡¯s stumbling steps led him into the dining area attached to the kitchen. Although he was technically awake, the fact that there was nothing currently pressing on his schedule allowed his brain to take its time waking up. He wasn¡¯t surprised to see that everyone who¡¯d stayed over was already up, and currently enjoying their conversations over morning coffee while being spread out across the various tables and couches. Nero still couldn¡¯t understand why Nick and Vera lived the way they do. They had all this money, a massive house, servants, and who knows what else, but for the most part, they stayed in one isolated wing of their mansion. Not only that, but the primary area they resided in was centered around a very large room which doubled as a dining area and living room. Then there was the fact that there was an attached kitchen which they actually used. If he hadn¡¯t had dinner in one of their fancy dining rooms, and had been teleported directly into their home, he would have thought they lived a modest, but well off life. He just couldn¡¯t understand the point of being rich and having a servants if they never saw them. Though, come to think of it, he could see the appeal of turning their house into a private hotel with them as the only guests. It would make rather pleasant now that he thought about it. When they left the house, they¡¯d come back to find everything cleaned. Their laundry was always taken care of and put away. Food was always in the fridge. If they were hungry, and didn¡¯t feel like cooking, they could just call the kitchen and order whatever they felt like. ¡®Alright, I can see the appeal,¡¯ he thought to himself, while standing there in the doorway watching everyone go about their morning. Vera called out from one of the seating areas she was sharing with Cathleen and Rose, ¡°Nero, why are you just standing there? Are you finally ready to start your day?¡± Nero, now pulled out of his thoughts, looked over to see Vera¡¯s judgmental face, along with Cathleen and Rose¡¯s blank expressions. Apparently, other than Vera, no one was particularly offended by him choosing to sleep in. Walking forward, he waved a dismissive hand in the air, and replied, ¡°It¡¯s not my fault you all don¡¯t understand the benefits of a full night¡¯s sleep. Honestly, the fact that you consider 4 hours more than enough sleep is all a the evidence I need to prove that your cultural is utterly and completely broken.¡± Finished with his mini-rant, he plopped himself down on one of the couches and leaned forward to pour himself some coffee from the breakfast tray on the table in front of him. Inclining his head toward the another table in the corner where Nick was sitting alone, Nero asked, ¡°What¡¯s he up to?¡± Vera chuckled and replied, ¡°This is the first chance he¡¯s had in a while to review the projects he¡¯d been following before joining the elites. He¡¯s probably looking into the current research concerning the kobalds, and any number of other things you probably wouldn¡¯t be interested in.¡± Her tone was very nearly mocking, and Nero wasn¡¯t sure if he should be offended or not. But, with the calming effects of his morning coffee, he decided to let it go. Cathleen took advantage of the pause to ask, ¡°So, little lord, are you ready to get a few hours of training in? We¡¯ll have to go light, as we don¡¯t have any healers on hand to resuscitate you when you fail to stop my spear.¡± Nero nearly spit out the coffee he was drinking, then glared at the woman. ¡°No, not today. I don¡¯t plan on slacking off, but today is a research day. At best, my stunt with sicking the Tower of Law on that evaluator woman is only going to buy me a few days. Before that, I need to figure out how I want to handle this whole ¡®unique¡¯ thing.¡± Vera calmly corrected him by saying, ¡°The Academy will probably address everything by tonight, and a new head will be sent to replace High-Academic Nurling as the evaluation team leader by tomorrow morning. I can¡¯t see it taking much longer than that.¡± Nero nodded, not surprised to hear that like everyone else in this place, they were annoyingly efficient. ¡°Alright, unless anybody has any objections, I¡¯m going to start listing what I need to get done,¡± he said, while pulling out a blank notebook and a pen he¡¯d stolen from somewhere he couldn¡¯t remember. Rose spoke up, ¡°Should I leave the room for this?¡± Nero shook his head, and replied, ¡°To be honest, I don¡¯t really care if you¡¯re still spying on me. If anything, whoever you tell will just find out how much crap I¡¯ve let slide and how clueless I am. What that will get them is a resounding ¡®nothing¡¯. How can they figure out what I¡¯m gonna do when I don¡¯t even know what I¡¯m planning. Up until now, I¡¯ve been reacting, and considering how much I¡¯ve had to deal with, I doubt that will be changing anytime soon. So kick back, and feel free to chime in when you see something I¡¯m missing.¡± Vera smiled, amused at Nero¡¯s behavior around the young woman. She could tell that Nero¡¯s argument was relatively weak, and the only reason young Rose was being included was because he found her presence pleasing. Nero looked over at Vera and asked, ¡°You have time today to hang around and help me with this, or do you have business you have to get done?¡± Vera shook her head lightly, replying, ¡°No, I¡¯ve put off what few appointments I had. Briefing you on your house¡¯s status is the only thing on my agenda for today.¡± Turning to Cathleen, he asked, ¡°And do you mind sticking around? I know this political crap isn¡¯t something you care about, but your perspective would be helpful.¡± Cathleen¡¯s stoic face didn¡¯t give Nero any hints, so when she replied with a simple nod, he gave her his best smile and said, ¡°Thank you. Any input you have will be appreciated.¡± This content has been misappropriated from Royal Road; report any instances of this story if found elsewhere. Shaking out his hands, he opened the notebook and said, ¡°OK! So, I¡¯ll start off with a topics list.¡± Nero began writing, reading out each topic as he filled out the page. 1 ¨C House Finances. A ¨C How much is coming in, and from where? B ¨C How much is going out, and to where? C ¨C Do I have any outstanding awards I have coming to me? D ¨C What should I know about the businesses I have an interest in? 2 ¨C House Members. A ¨C Aside from Vera, do I even have any? B ¨C Should I get more, and if so, how? C ¨C Are employees members, and is my estate that I¡¯ve never seen still staffed? D ¨C Vera mentioned something about a mercenary company she started for me, find out more. 3 ¨C Noble Status A ¨C Will being a unique change anything? If so, how? B ¨C Do I really not have to deal with the trials anymore? If so, then do I have a new job? C ¨C What¡¯s the ladder I¡¯ve heard people talking about, and am I on it? D ¨C Responsibilities? And how to get out of them? 4 ¨C Unique Status A ¨C How exactly is it different than being a noble? Should I care? B ¨C Benefits vs. Costs. C ¨C Do I have a choice? 5 ¨C Relationships A ¨C What do Cathleen and Rose mean when they say they want to join my house. B ¨C What was Nick talking about becoming a branch house. C ¨C What¡¯s it going to cost me, and what am I getting out of it? D ¨C Leave time for everyone to yell at me for being an asshole. 6 ¨C The War A ¨C Am I still going to be an elite? Do I have a choice? Cost/Benefit analysis. B ¨C Is Dorchester going to fall, and do we have an exit strategy in case of emergency. C ¨C Get an explanation on why the populators aren¡¯t just coming in and solving everything. 7 ¨C The Density Shift A ¨C What¡¯s going on with it? If it was such a big problem, why worry about kobalds? B ¨C Why isn¡¯t the city¡¯s interior affected? C ¨C Get a better explanation of what it is. 8 ¨C My ¡®Talent¡¯ A ¨C Why is it that big of a deal to see essence? B ¨C How can I use it to my benefit? C ¨C How did I get it? Where does it come from? D ¨C Am I in danger because people know about it now? E ¨C Questions that I haven¡¯t thought of asking, and things I should know. 9 ¨C Common Knowledge that I¡¯m missing. A ¨C Do I need to care about religions? Does it matter that they are talking about me? B ¨C What exactly are the Towers? C ¨C I thought the Center was important, why have I stopped hearing about it? D ¨C Why aren¡¯t roads affected by monsters and beasts? E ¨C Where does the city get its food and supplies? F ¨C Who owns the army? The city, or the kingdom? G ¨C What exactly are ¡®houses¡¯? H ¨C If the city-lord is in charge, then who were all those people during the arbitration thing? I ¨C Who¡¯s actually in charge of what? J ¨C Where do the laws come from? The kingdom, or the city? K ¨C That war down south with the¡­ whoever¡­ whose providing the troops? L ¡°Nero! Enough!¡± Vera said loudly, causing Nero¡¯s pen to jump off the page and his voice to fall silent. Looking up, he saw that all three women had vastly different looks on their faces. Cathleen¡¯s stoic facade had crumbled into blatant amusement. Rose had a look of horror and confusion. Meanwhile, Vera looked like she had a headache as she was currently rubbing her forehead with a pained look on her face. Innocently, Nero asked, ¡°What?¡± Rose stuttered, ¡°You really don¡¯t know any of that? You don¡¯t even know who is in your house? What kind of noble are you?¡± At that, Cathleen burst out into a light laughter as she leaned forward to refill her cup and grab another pastry. Nero looked at Rose and just shrugged, not knowing what answer to give the young woman. In a way, it hurt him to see the image she had of him shattering. However, he knew it was for the best. While the facade of an all-knowing and savvy political mastermind and tactician had been helpful, he knew he couldn¡¯t keep it up long term. Especially now that he was back in the city and surrounded by nobles once again. If she really wanted to cut ties with the military, it was best she knew what she was getting into. Vera¡¯s calm voice held a trace of exasperation when she started talking. ¡°Nero, any one of those topics will take days to cover. How have you not learned any of this. I¡¯ve been sending you pings with all of your houses accounts and informational updates concerning your different concerns. Not to mention that with the link, most of this information is readily available to you.¡± Turning her head, she shouted across the room at her husband, ¡°Nicholas! What have you been spending your time teaching him? Have you not, at least, covered the political system yet?¡± Nick¡¯s eyes refocused off whatever he was looking at through his link, and met Vera¡¯s stare with a glare. ¡°Of course we¡¯ve talked about the political system. Well, for the most part. Mostly we talk about magic, and even that he tends to ignore unless I¡¯m speaking in broad terms. He doesn¡¯t like details¡­ What do you expect me to do? Force him to sit in a corner and read a book? Besides, it¡¯s not like we¡¯ve had a lot of free time. From the moment he¡¯s shown up in this world, something is always happening. You try fighting across the wilds all day then tell me how much free time you have to research the nobility system.¡± By the time Nick finished speaking, he¡¯d worked himself into a lather. Standing up, he smoothed out his robes, and with an angry look on his face he addressed the room formally, ¡°I¡¯ll be spending the rest of the day in my office. I have a great deal to catch up on, and I don¡¯t intend to waste any of my limited time here listening to you all planning the takeover of Dorchester.¡± At that, he walked off after collecting a tray of pastries and a pitcher of whatever it was that he¡¯d been drinking. Rose turned back to the group with a scared look on her face, ¡°What did he mean about taking over Dorchester?¡± Once again, Cathleen started chuckling. She seemed to thoroughly enjoy the chaotic ambiance Nero¡¯s ignorance and attitude seemed to be fostering. Vera watched Nick walk off with a frown on her face. She seemed to be debating whether or not it was worth it to go give him a piece of her mind after his outburst. Nero, feeling a smidgen of responsibility for Nick¡¯s failure as a mentor, tried to calm her down. ¡°Listen, I¡¯m not going to say that I haven¡¯t had some free time that I may have wasted reading books on magic that I might have spent in a more productive manner. However, if you think about it, I haven¡¯t really been here all that long. Not to mention, Nick¡¯s right that a lot has happened. I haven¡¯t really had a lot of time to catch up on all this stuff. There was a reason I asked you to be my proxy. Come on, let¡¯s just do a quick info-dump, and try and at least get through a few of these questions before lunch-time. How¡¯s that sound?¡± While Nero¡¯s pleading eyes were in a stare-down with an unhappy Vera, Rose¡¯s voice shattered the silence by asking, ¡°Seriously! What did he mean by taking over Dorchester?¡± Everyone turned to look at her in surprise, as she was nearly hyperventilating at the thought of being accidentally involved in some sort of treason. Vera sighed, then put her head in her hands as if she was already tired despite it still being the morning. Nero, annoyed at having to be the one to deal with the misunderstanding, replied, ¡°He wasn¡¯t being serious. Well, he was¡­ kinda. Look, Vera likes acquiring power and businesses. I think Nick was mocking her about it. Hell, just last week she almost had me married to the city-lord and raised to the second most powerful position in Dorchester¡­ It¡¯s just what she does. You don¡¯t have to worry about it, OK?¡± Rose looked at Nero, not able to comprehend the words that had just come out of his mouth. ¡°What do you mean you almost married the city-lord? How? Why?¡± She stuttered, her words coming out faster, and faster. Nero interrupted her panic attack by holding up his hands in surrender. ¡°Calm down. No one is breaking any laws. I don¡¯t want to take over the city. Vera isn¡¯t going to do anything. At worst, she¡¯ll just own everything. The powers-that-be will still be able to screw over the little guy, and the wheels of government will still roll over everyone, spreading their pain across the land like they¡¯ve always done. You don¡¯t have to worry about it.¡± he said, trying to keep his voice as calm as possible as if he were trying to placate a feral animal caught in a trap. Turning to look at a horrified Vera, he asked lightly, ¡°Do you have any chocolate? Or ice-cream? That should calm her down before she starts sending off pings to Tower of Law warning them of our secret coalition for the takeover of the city.¡± Vera¡¯s face turned red, her horror at Nero¡¯s words transitioning to anger in a way that only Nero could make happen. ¡°Nero. Shut up. In fact, stop talking altogether. You¡¯re not helping.¡± Turning to look at Rose, she said, ¡°Rose¡­ It was a joke. He was trying to be funny. Ignore both of these idiots.¡± Glaring at Nero, she added, ¡°I blame you for corrupting my sweet Nicholas. His sense of humor used to be so refined. Now, his jokes cause disaster right before he leaves the room. This is your fault.¡± Nero looked at her with a wide smile, somewhat proud of her accusation. ¡°What can I say, we get along for a reason.¡± Rose still looked a little skeptical of Vera¡¯s explanation, and after hearing of Nero¡¯s massive holes in his education, she felt like every conclusion she¡¯d built up over the past few weeks had been called into question. Vera tried to change the subject back to something productive, as they¡¯d already wasted enough of their morning on this nonsense. ¡°How about we just start at the beginning, and do an overview of the topics as best we can. I¡¯ve sent for some food, so prepare yourself for a long day of learning young man. I refuse to let you continue on in ignorance. The fact that you continue to luck through your life is not something to be proud of. Nor is it something you should rely on moving forward.¡± Nero refilled his coffee cup, eager to get started. However, he couldn¡¯t help but ask, ¡°So, would my ability to use my ignorance as a weapon to cause chaos and take advantage of the situation fall into the category of ¡®talents¡¯? Would that make me a unique twice over?¡± Vera wasn¡¯t amused, and didn¡¯t bother answering him. Instead, she stood up and waved her hand to produce a large hologram that to Nero looked like a whiteboard. ¡°To start off, let¡¯s discuss the government of Oglivarch, and how power is distributed and managed throughout the kingdom. In order to understand how things work, we have to consider how the kingdom was founded¡­.¡± She said, starting off on what Nero could feel was going to be a long, and boring, lecture. ¡®Oh, joy. Well, I¡¯ve been here long enough. It was only a matter of time before I was forced to put up with an exposition dump,¡¯ he mentally lamented while leaning back into the sofa and getting comfortable. Chapter 166 - History in the making. Mike hid behind his shield as the dirt, mud, and blood exploded in front of him, killing the group of kobalds that had been assaulting his position. The lull in combat allowed him to get better look at what was going on around him. To his left and right he saw other members of his unit holding up their shields and cutting down kobalds in numbers that boggled his mind. The number of bodies on the ground was staggering. Above him, towering magical shields kept the kobald artillery from ripping into their lines. He could hear the massive generators behind him struggling to maintain their artificial essence fields. Between them and the few support mages they¡¯d been assigned, they were able to keep the sky from falling down on top of them. The bunker he and his team were defending seemed like a peaceful oasis compared to the carnage he could see the other troops suffering through in the distance. There were massive siege-wyrms being assaulted with chains from massive crossbows, holding them down so that the ground forces could finally kill them. Abilities were coloring the battlefield with flashing lights, and throughout it all was the sea of dull green kobalds that were blanketing the ground like an ocean. The reality of the situation became clear when he saw the bunker to their left being overrun after its shield failed and the lines were broken by enemy mages. Like a wave, the kobalds flooded through the gaps, pulling down the human troops and swallowing them with their numbers. In seconds, the position fell, and the wave of kobalds moved on. Before he could see if a relief force managed to get there in time to collect the bodies for resuscitation, he was forced to pay attention to a fresh wave of kobalds bearing down on his position. Firming his grip on his shield, he prepared for another round of battle. ¡®Their numbers aren¡¯t endless. Eventually they¡¯ll break. We just have to hold on,¡¯ he promised himself, silently praying to whatever deity felt like listening to his plight. ----- Nero tried to pay attention, he really did. But the recurring problem he¡¯d had since he¡¯d arrived in this fantasy world once again reared it¡¯s ugly head. No matter how detailed and comprehensive an answer he received, every single question led to more questions. With both his hands gripping the hair on the side of his head, he closed his eyes and tried to quell his rage at how utterly stupid and incomprehensible this world seemed to be. With his eyes closed so hard his face hurt, he took a few deep breathes before he opened them to stare at Vera, who was patiently waiting for him to formulate his latest question. ¡°So let me get this straight. A long ass time ago, which you can¡¯t be more specific about due to some time-fuckery which resulted from an inter-planar war with an actual demon king, a bunch of humans got together to form large communities in order to protect themselves from the world around them. Then, some unspecified time later, the leaders decided to start calling themselves nobles so that they could begin warring between the communities. Which they did because they figured out that by having more people in a one area, humanities control over the essence became strong enough to stop monsters from spawning inside their walls. How in the hell is that even supposed to work?¡± he asked, trying to focus on a singular question while letting the other nonsense fade into the background. Cathleen interjected, obviously hoping to dumb it down enough for Nero to understand. ¡°The ether takes in the essence created by those within its domain. You can think about it as a many streams coming together to form a river. By increasing their populations, the first cities were able to be formed. Enough people in an area, and it will slowly identify as a human settlement. This was the beginning of civilization as we know it.¡± Nero, semi-grasping the concept, asked the obvious question, ¡°So, in order to bolster their populations¡­ they fought wars with each other, killing who knows how many people in the process?¡± Cathleen and Vera nodded, pleased that Nero was finally getting it, and that they could now move on with the lesson. Meanwhile, Rose was off to the side, listening patiently while nibbling on a cookie, her legs crossed with one foot slowly bouncing in the air as if she were merely enjoying a lazy afternoon devoid of responsibility. Throwing his hands up, Nero said, ¡°Fine! That totally makes sense to me. Then what did these genius¡¯ do next?¡± Vera pointed to the hologram behind her, which was currently displaying a map of the time before Oglivarch. ¡°Then came the first of the Great Houses and the time of strife. Those few that were able, created families that had power spanning across multiple cities, whether by trade, marriage, or consort agreements. At this time, the average human was merely a placeholder, a tool for those in power. You can imagine how chaotic the times were.¡± Waving her hand, the image went through several changes as cities sprang up, then disappeared just as quickly. ¡°As you can see, this system of government was nowhere near stable. As a result, houses would rise and fall quickly, being solely dependent on personal power and interests. When someone became powerful enough to take control of the local resources, a new house would be founded. As the head of the new house, they inevitably left the running of there area of control to those whom they trusted, usually family members and the like. Meanwhile, they would continue focusing on increasing their personal power and lifespan, trying their best to reach the next tier.¡± If you spot this story on Amazon, know that it has been stolen. Report the violation. Cathleen interrupted the flow by snorting and muttering, ¡°Idiots.¡± Vera nodded and replied, ¡°Quite. Regardless, while some lucky few did succeed, most others did not. The only universal truth at the time was that whoever was in power was only temporary in power until such time as someone they¡¯d abused eventually rose up and took their place. Adversity bred stress, and stress resulted in growth. Therefore, there was always someone there to oppose whoever was seemingly in charge at the time.¡± Cathleen added, ¡°That¡¯s not to say that there weren¡¯t isolated regions that had a semblance of stability. Over time, small kingdoms did emerge. But, their stability invited challenge, which kept them contained. Yet, they did remain relatively stable.¡± Vera continued, ¡°That¡¯s correct. In fact, it was stories of these isolated kingdoms that inspired the first king¡¯s rise to power. Although born to the life of a simple shepherd, he imagined a kingdom which cared for its people as its flock.¡± Nero¡¯s eyes widened, as the story sounded uncomfortably familiar to him. ¡°Don¡¯t tell me the dude was named Jesus?¡± he asked, fearing the answer. Vera looked at Nero in confusion and replied, ¡°No, his name was Leonard. Why?¡± Nero, now totally baffled, asked, ¡°Leonard? The guy¡¯s name was Leonard. Leonard the shepherd founded Oglivarch?¡± The three woman all shared a look of mutually offended confusion before Vera replied, ¡°Yes. King Leonard Oglivarch the first, known as the first among equals, founded the kingdom of Oglivarch. And from the ashes of the previous kingdoms, he and his populators built Hennings, named for his wife who died in the pursuit of their shared dream. I would ask that you not insult his memory. To the people of Oglivarch, he is still considered the best of us, and his legend inspires us to this day.¡± Nero gulped, a sense of solemnity at that moment bore down on him like a ton of bricks. He could almost feel the history in the ether, showing him glimpses of the terrible sacrifices that man and his companions made to usher the world into a new age, one of true civilization and stability. ¡°Understood,¡± he said. ¡°I can see how someone like that has earned their place in the history books. How long ago did this happen?¡± Vera seemed to accept Nero¡¯s apology while replying, ¡°Over 100,000 years, we can say that with certainty. However, due to several incursions, being any more specific than that is a little problematic. At one point, the entire continent spent a significant amount of time in one of the hell dimensions. Whether or not it was returned due to the actions of Plastia or some other reason, we simply do not know. Why are you so interested in when things happened, anyway?¡± Nero felt taken aback at the question. ¡°Um¡­ cause timelines are important for putting things in order? You guys have recorded history, so I figured you¡¯d have a pretty definitive and well kept track of what¡¯s happened since the founding.¡± Vera shrugged, and said, ¡°Not really. Too many disturbances have happened over the millennia. For the most part, the archives try to maintain the legends, but going that far back is problematic. You see, languages themselves are fluid, while the meaning remains. However, that meaning only exists by mutual understanding. For example, the truth of the past at this moment is not the same truth of the past at the time it occurred.¡± Nero¡¯s face twisted into total confusion. ¡°Huh?¡± Cathleen tried to help by saying, ¡°The past only exists as interpretation of whatever is left over. Yesterday only exists because we remember it. The only reality that truly exists is the here and now. That is why while you can learn from the past, you can never dwell in it.¡± Nero looked at the woman, and a feeling of outrage began bubbling up in his gut. He had the sudden and inextricable fear that what she was saying was not just some philosophical bullshit, but may in fact be how things work around here. ¡°So, you¡¯re telling me¡­ that if I somehow teleported back in time to watch King Leo found the kingdom, I¡¯m not going to see what actually happened. Instead, I¡¯ll be seeing the reflection of what people currently believe happened?¡± he asked, silently praying that the answer wouldn¡¯t be ¡®yes¡¯. ¡°Yes, that¡¯s correct. Over time, even the records slowly change to reflect the current interpretation of what has happened. History is nothing more than an interpretation of the legends. Like everything, it changes with the times.¡± replied Vera, while Cathleen just nodded as if it were completely obvious if Nero just bothered to think about it. Nero felt like laughing at the absurdity, but wisely kept his mouth shut. He¡¯d always believed that history was written by the victors, but this was taking it a little too far. In fact, if he were to accept the premise that history was totally up for interpretation, then it followed that the present reality he was living in was nothing more than a delusion shared among whoever happened to be alive at this very moment. A half second later, another thought came to Nero. What if all of this was just in his head? And the reality around him was made manifest by his own personal beliefs. Technically, that still would be in line with the way reality seemed to work around here. Nero was brought out of his existential crisis by a cookie hitting him squarely in the forehead. Blinking a few times to clear his mind, he refocused on an amused Rose sitting across from him. Vera regained Nero¡¯s attention by adding, ¡°You¡¯re probably wondering about your place in history, and whether or not you¡¯ll be remembered. Rest assured, you have nothing to worry about. Extensive studies have been done on both the soul and the mind. While your body may perish, who you are, and the core of your potential will live on indefinitely. Well, that is usually the case unless you end up in a particularly troublesome after life. Or your soul ends up in one of the hell-planes. Also some of the heavens can be a little complicated to explain. But that is not the subject we¡¯re covering at the moment.¡± She turned around and changed the holographic projection to the next topic she wanted to cover. To Nero, it looked like she had arbitrarily decided that she had answered all of Nero¡¯s questions and it was now time to move on. Nero however, remained firmly rooted in the subject from thirty seconds ago. ¡®I mean, seriously, how else did you expect it to work. With magic and self expression making the world go round, is it really so hard to imagine that the past is just as fantastical as the present. These are real life legends we¡¯re talking about here. Everything is fantasy, and reality is just the clay powerful people play with. The lesson here is that I should get strong enough for my opinion to matter, otherwise my reality will remain dictated by those around me,¡¯ he thought to himself, before cringing at the stupidly philosophical conclusion he¡¯d just come to. Chapter 167 - The true evil of kindness. Although this was not their first meeting, it was their first attempt at emulating the secret societies they¡¯d all heard about. The five of them sat around the small table in the dimly lit room, a singular essence spell providing the only source of light. Each of them were still a little uncomfortable in their new robes and hoods. They hadn¡¯t had a chance to enchant them yet, so they were forced to cut holes in the hood so that they could see what was going on. As a result, what was supposed to be a solemn affair, looked shabbily done, if not a little pathetic. Even though they were all the chosen representatives of their individual groups, with membership numbers ranging from the low 20¡¯s to over 100, none of them were feeling particularly good about themselves at the moment. ¡°When¡¯s Erik getting here?¡± asked one of the hooded figures. ¡°No names, Sarah!¡± hissed another one. ¡°Right. Sorry. When¡¯s the illustrious High Arch-knight getting here?¡± replied the first one, her voice laden with mockery. Just then, the door to the hastily converted storage room burst open, allowing the ¡®High Arch-knight¡¯ to make his presence known. Stumbling into the room, his new robes causing his steps to catch on the excess fabric, the High Arch-knight said hurriedly, ¡°I¡¯m here! I¡¯m here! Have you guys started without me?¡± ¡°We couldn¡¯t start without you! You¡¯re the one that¡¯s supposed to lead the meeting. Everyone agreed that you won the essay contest,¡± the hooded figure named Sarah replied angrily. ¡°Right. Good,¡± he said, taking his seat among the knights. After coughing lightly into his hand to clear his throat, he said, ¡°Let¡¯s bring to order the first official meeting of the Nero-Knights. We¡¯ll -¡± He was interrupted by the knight that had corrected Sarah. ¡°Actually, we haven¡¯t officially decided on the name after the merger. That is the first item to address on today¡¯s agenda,¡± she said. The High Arch-knight nodded, and said, ¡°Thank you, Heather. Aft-¡± ¡°No names!¡± three of the hooded figures shouted in unison. ¡°Right! Sorry,¡± the High Arch-knight replied, mentally kicking himself for such a stupid mistake. Trying to regain some semblance of respectability, the High Arch-knight said, ¡°Let¡¯s start the meeting by reciting the declaration we agreed upon.¡± Straightening his shoulders, he summoned every bit of his very limited presence and began. His voice sounded almost reverent as he loudly asked, ¡°Why are we here?¡± Together, the knights replied, ¡°Because he showed us the path!¡± Standing up, the High Arch-knight continued, ¡°What is the way forward?¡± The knights stood, joining him, replying as one, ¡°We respect the grind!¡± ¡°He has shown us the way,¡± the High Arch-knight responded as if offering them all a benediction. Everyone bowed their heads, and joined the High Arch-knight after he began the declaration: ¡°We follow his ways to further our path. We live for the grind, everything else is secondary. We start none, as we don¡¯t want none. While others are distracted, we remain focused. Those who choose to stand in our way are to be pitied, but never allowed to succeed. The bonds we accept are ours to choose, and together we move forward. We think first, then act with conviction. This world is what we make it. He has shown us the way, and together we choose to follow him.¡± By the time they finished, all of them were fully in-sync, and a sense of unity pervaded the room. They felt their communal purpose, their communal beliefs reinforcing each other. As one, they took their seats. All of them feeling much better about their decision to join this budding secret society. Under their hoods, each of them were smiling with pride at how well their dedication sounded out loud. The High Arch-knight began the meeting, his voice now much more controlled and steady. ¡°What we all knew has finally been acknowledged. The Walker has been put up for ascension to the status of a unique. His greatness has been noticed, and soon he will appear here in Hennings.¡± Looking around the room, he tried to impart the seriousness of his next words. ¡°We need to prepare everyone for his arrival. Whether it¡¯s tomorrow or a year from now¡­ the Walker is coming.¡± ----- While Vera was droning on about the order in which the kingdom¡¯s cities were founded, Nero nibbled on a cookie and mentally reviewed what he¡¯d learned. He had been right to equate the kingdom with the good ¡®ole USA he¡¯d grown up in. Well, more or less. Each city was more or less on it¡¯s own. Some cities were absorbed from kingdoms that chose to join Oglivarch on their own, while others were founded by nobles striking and staking their claim. To Nero, it reminded him of the stories of the wild west. The land was so large that creating new cities was like homesteading. To found a city, a group of nobles would come together and apply for a permit. The populators would then be sent out to clear the area of any major threats, paving the way for the nobles to come in and build their city. The resources would be supplied by the nobles, and there were strict steps they needed to follow, but overall, it was pretty similar to a group of people forming a town after the army had come through and cleared out all the natives. However, in this case, the natives were massive beasts and monsters who¡¯d laid claim to massive tracks of land, the army was the populators, while the people were fancy ass nobles with more money than sense. Unauthorized duplication: this narrative has been taken without consent. Report sightings. All in all, it sounded like more trouble than it was worth. Yet, he could see the appeal if the nobles in charge managed to live long enough. With the crazy-ass lifespans in this world, the nobles could actually live to see the day when all their hard work payed off. So far, the subject he was most surprised about was the mortality rate among the populous. Looking at the big picture, seeing how many people died every year throughout the kingdom, it all made very little sense to him. To Nero, it was hard to imagine that even with their prolonged life spans, it was still difficult to grow their population numbers. Hearing Vera put the blame on how dangerous the wilds were didn¡¯t clear it up at all for Nero. He¡¯d been in the wilds, and even with a density shift, he didn¡¯t think it was that bad. Regardless, putting aside the population numbers, he understood the highlights. The kingdom was the federal government, enforcing the big rules of conduct, while letting the individual cities survive or thrive on their own merit. Surprisingly, the capital didn¡¯t even demand much in taxes. They only asked for tribute and taxes after the cities became self-sufficient, and then it was only as much as they were willing to pay. It was the cities that chose how much they¡¯d give to the kingdom in exchange for tighter ties with the ruling family and the capital. Interrupting Vera, Nero asked in a tone of disbelief, ¡°So, if one of the cities decided¡­ ¡®eh, we don¡¯t feel like paying any taxes this year¡¯, the kingdom would just be alright with that?¡± Vera nodded, replying, ¡°Technically, yes. However, keep in mind that all of the benefits of membership would then be revoked. Trade between cities would no longer be sponsored, access to the central archives would be cut off, training opportunities in the academies would be unavailable, and a thousand other things that allow cities to grow into the safe-havens they need to be out in the wilds would be taken away from them. Even more than that, the cities vie on their own ladder to produce more for the kingdom. The more they give, the higher their position, and consequently the higher their standing within the kingdom. All of that is dependent on how much they produce for Oglivarch.¡± Nero thought through what she was saying, and in a way it made sense. However, it just seemed so weird. He couldn¡¯t imagine this system working at all in his old world. Then again, back there the states weren¡¯t under the threat of city destroying populators demanding that they stay part of the country, whether or not they received any benefits from the federal government. ¡®I can just see Texas saying, we¡¯re not paying shit to you socialist assholes. Then the suits in Washington tell them that they are no longer going to give them any money for roads, or anything else for that matter. In response, Texas says they¡¯ll be fine on their own, but then get hit with a veritable superhero coming down from the skies and destroying whatever infrastructure they¡¯d managed to build up on their own. Doesn¡¯t sound like much the government is actually giving anyone much of a choice to me. Maybe I¡¯m missing something?¡¯ he thought to himself. ¡°OK. So, the cities are founded and run by nobles, in whatever way they want. However, they still have to follow the basic rules which are the various accords. They independently make deals with the guilds and the various towers to run their local governments, while the center is placed by the kingdom to watch over everything and make sure no one is abusing their positions? Is there any way to completely separate themselves from the power structure, legally that is?¡± he asked, trying to make sense of their convoluted system of checks and balances. Vera nodded, and replied, ¡°Yes, that¡¯s right. Theoretically, if the cities wanted to, they could buy off the kingdom¡¯s investment to establish their own kingdom. It would be difficult, but it¡¯s possible. They would have to pay back the kingdom for the initial use of the populators, take on the cost of training and running their own towers, all while providing an alternative for all the services the center offers the citizenry. After that, once verified to still be in compliance with the kingdom¡¯s laws, they¡¯d have to publicly declare their intent to secede, then give their citizens a chance to move out before the official transfer of power. As I said, while it¡¯s technically feasible, it is not something that is likely to happen.¡± Cathleen chimed in, ¡°For a while, the Northern tribes successfully broke off from the kingdom. It didn¡¯t last very long though. Barely 2000 years, I think. It just wasn¡¯t worth the effort to be running the governments in parallel. For all their faults, the southerners make good administrators. As the kingdom stays out of most things, there really is no benefit to going it alone.¡± Nero looked at the map hovering behind Vera. He was beginning to grasp the bigger picture. Each city was more or less in charge of their own area. They were all self sufficient. Their only ties to each other were that they were all part of the same kingdom, and as such, they agreed on all the major points of how to run their particular slice of paradise. Without any major ideological disputes, he could sort of see it working. Deciding to move on, he said, ¡°All right, I guess that kind of makes sense. You can continue.¡± Vera went on to explain the house system, which apparently, to this day, was constantly under revision. The overall goal being to control and funnel the energies and schemes of the elites toward the benefit of the greater good. By rewarding the houses with tax breaks and positions in response to their efforts for the kingdom¡¯s greater good, and thoroughly punishing any violations with complete and utter ruin, the kingdom effectively lets the nobles run almost everything. The best education goes to the nobles, while they are rewarded for uplifting the commoners around them. Political positions, social advancements, government grants, and numerous other advantages are exclusively reserved for people with noble titles. As far as Nero could tell, it was almost like two kingdoms running along right next to each other. One for the nobles, another for the commoners. The nobles killed, schemed, and raced against each other, while the average citizen went about their daily lives without a care in the world. The nobles worked their asses off to prove to the other nobles that they were the best at caring for their commoners. Whoever had the happiest and most productive people seemed to ¡®win¡¯ the imaginary game they had all agreed to play. To Nero, it sounded like a shared delusion that everyone agreed to put up with. In fact, he was hesitant to point it out, wary that he might pull everything down with his common sense. Yet, he just couldn¡¯t help himself. ¡°Hold up. You¡¯re telling me that no one abuses the system to take advantage of the little guy? There has to be some benefit from just taking the resources directly out of the pocket of the citizenry than waiting for it to be awarded by the nobles and governmental bodies above them. The system as it stands is just begging for someone to come along and abuse the hell out of it,¡± he said, completely disregarding any kind of assumed sense of responsibility on the part of the nobles. Vera and Cathleen chuckled, apparently amused at Nero for some reason. Meanwhile, Rose seemed to be silently agreeing with Nero¡¯s pessimism. Vera folded her hands in front of her as if she were speaking to a naive young man who didn¡¯t understand how the world really worked. ¡°You have to understand Nero, the people who are at the top of the ladder do not want the system to fail. A lot of them are only a couple hunred generations away from the memory of what the world used to be like. There is stability now. Those at the top can now focus on their own pursuits. Try and think about it from their point of view,¡± she said. Cathleen added, ¡°If you were in charge, how would you like the people below you to run your interests? How would you like it if you were up in your tower, studying the mysterious of the magic you like so much, and one day one of your subordinates ran into your chambers explaining that one of your territories was rebelling? Or that they were no longer living up to their agreements? Perhaps, just generally causing a problem that you would now have to deal with?¡± Nero blinked a few times, his mind trying to imagine such a scenario. ¡®Yup. I¡¯d be pissed. Like, proper pissed,¡¯ he thought to himself. Vera piled on, by saying, ¡°The system stands as the most tried and true method for allowing controlled growth among the subjects. The stress for growth is there, in any number of forms. Opportunity for advancement is clearly regulated and laid out. No one is held back, and everyone is allowed to work their way up the various ladders. If they don¡¯t like something, there is a clear and accepted method to address it. In this way, the kingdom flourishes, while the people in power are able to go about their lives without the threat of their time being constantly wasted.¡± Nero nodded, replying, ¡°Yeah. Money can be made. Resources can be acquired. Everything is up for grabs except for more time. Lifespan is limited, even if it¡¯s on the timescale everyone around here is dealing with. The only way to survive is to level, and how pissed would they be with anything that got in the way of that. I suppose they can¡¯t learn or experience much from the same problems popping up over and over again. Hell, if they didn¡¯t learn their lessons, they wouldn¡¯t be leveling at all, now would they.¡± Vera nodded, happy to see Nero understanding why the system was designed to run itself. Nero narrowed his eyes, still having trouble believing that everything worked the way she seemed to believe it did. ¡°So, there are no rebellions, or conflicts of opinions that result in the system breaking down?¡± Cathleen¡¯s stoic presence was disrupted as she snorted in seeming amusement. ¡°Of course there are rebellions and conflicts. People will always try and fight the current power structures that they are forced to operate under. However, after thousands of years, those fights and conflicts are channeled into legal battles. If your house doesn¡¯t like another, you¡¯re free to go kill them all. However, you still have to follow the law while doing so. You wanna go around being a problem for everyone around you? Well, then you better be strong enough to deal with all the people coming for your head. If you manage to survive, you¡¯ll end up part of the system, and then you¡¯ll be stuck enforcing it. Remember, the system isn¡¯t designed to stop people from being themselves, it¡¯s designed to channel their desires and personalities into a positive direction. Anyone who goes against the positive direction violates the law, and therefor suffers the inevitable outcome of their idiocy. Then the ones who eliminated them are then rewarded, and tied more tightly into the power structure.¡± Nero was torn. On one hand, the system was all ¡®touchy-feely¡¯ and socialist. However, on the other, it was completely savage and Machiavellian. The fact that the government was so twisted that they were willing to use totally corrupt and dastardly means to enforce a society of kindness and general communal goodwill was ironic to the point of insanity. Shaking his head in amusement. Nero had to admit that it was a pretty novel approach to community service. And the whole thing stemmed from the people at the top just wanting to be left alone. The more he thought about it, the funnier he found it. Eventually, he burst out into one of the most evil laughs he¡¯d ever performed. He¡¯d never actually been able to pull off the classic, ¡°Muwahaha!¡± However, in the face of the incredibly evil scheme which resulted in everyone getting along and working together, he was able to finally fulfill his life-long dream to maniacally laugh in delight at the success of well thought out plot¡¯s success. ¡°You guys are diabolical. I love it. I still think it¡¯s madness, and most likely doomed to failure, but hot damn it¡¯s a clever way to manipulate the masses,¡± he said, eager to hear more about how the evil overlords ruled their people with social welfare initiatives and free healthcare. Chapter 168 - The downside of listening. While the commanders at the table debated whether the assault force was sufficiently prepared for the push into the mountain, the general looked over the most recent casualty numbers coming in from the battle currently going on outside the walls. It wasn¡¯t nearly as bad as it could have been. Without any support from a summoning portal, the kobalds were solely reliant on what few reinforcements they could bring up from the mountain city through their singular tunnel. As he was currently in the war room under the keep, he was able to utilize the imaging table to follow the battle in real time. He took note of how the commander¡¯s he¡¯d assigned to lead the battle were deploying their forces, and he was filled with pride at how well their troops were performing. In many ways, the divisions that had been deployed were the most expendable troops in the entire army. Although, it hadn¡¯t really been a conscious decision, as they were the only ones available at the time. Most of his forces were busy prepping for the upcoming assault on the mountain gate. Regardless, the forces he¡¯d deployed were handily beating back the kobald¡¯s assault, and inflicting upon the enemy devastating loses while they were doing it. Compared to how many thousands of kobalds they¡¯d killed, at worst, he¡¯d lose a couple thousand troops by the time it was all said and done. While unfortunate, it was an acceptable enough trade for regaining control of the surface. Skillfully manipulating the table¡¯s controls, he changed the image to display of entirety of the mountain¡¯s surface. He carefully looked over the various encampments his survey teams were building, noting that progress seemed to be moving along smoothly. He had worried that there were more hidden tunnels filled with kobalds, just waiting for their opportunity to join in the surface assault. However, that didn¡¯t seem to be the case. Despite how hard the kobalds were pushing out of their singular tunnel, no other breakouts have occurred. ¡®Does that mean there aren¡¯t any hidden forces, or could it be that they are just choosing to stick to whatever their original plan was?¡¯ he wondered, hating the fact that he was working with such limited intelligence. His internal debate over what the kobald¡¯s were planning was interrupted by Commander Dahl trying to get his attention, ¡°Sir?¡± Looking up from the holographic display, the general locked eyes with the man. ¡°What?¡± he asked tersely. Commander Dahl gulped, but repeated the question the general had ignored, ¡°Sir, when are the mages going to be able to counter the kobald¡¯s illusions? Without a way to see what we¡¯re getting into, this debate is pointless.¡± The general nodded, his grim face displaying how unhappy he was with the situation. ¡°The Tower of Magic is giving me conflicting answers. It could be anywhere from 3 weeks to months. Currently, they¡¯re still patting themselves on the back for being able to get through the density shift¡¯s ethereal interference and show us the battlefield. I¡¯m not holding out much hope, to be honest.¡± Several grim faced commanders nodded along with Commander Dahl. All of them had enough experience to understand what that meant. They were on their own. One of the commanders aides, leaned over to whisper something into his boss¡¯s ear. The commander nodded, as if he had just been reminded of something. Standing up to address the table, he said, ¡°I understand the difficulty of bringing in Lord Walker now that he is up for a citizenship promotion to unique status, but I think it¡¯s our best option to take advantage of the fact that the promotion hasn¡¯t technically gone through yet. As of now, he¡¯s still under our command. So, I recommend we stick him in the Tower of Magic¡¯s scrying hall, and have him get us through those illusions. He did it once, and I don¡¯t see why he couldn¡¯t do it again.¡± The general grimaced. It wasn¡¯t like he didn¡¯t want to just order the little bastard locked up in the Tower and forced to scry through the illusions, but he wasn¡¯t in any position to play an offensive game with the young man at the moment. For the time being, he needed to repair Lord Walker¡¯s opinion of the military, or at least hope that the young man wasn¡¯t interested in holding grudges. ¡®Whatever leverage I had was neutralized the moment he was put up for ascension to unique. I¡¯m going to have to remember to do something special for Captain Angelton when he gets back here. If it weren¡¯t for him and his hells-be-damned honor, I wouldn¡¯t have to be putting up with any of this,¡¯ he thought to himself, almost growling mentally in repressed rage. Looking up at the commander who suggested forcing Lord Walker¡¯s involvement. The general¡¯s glare nearly froze the man in place. He then said in a voice devoid of any warmth, ¡°Thank you for your suggestion. I never would have thought of that. I¡¯ll be sure to take your counsel into consideration. For now, let¡¯s return to our plan for taking the mountain. I want a comprehensive list of how kobalds have acted in similar situations, and counter-strategies for whatever they might throw at us.¡± The commanders all took the hint, deciding that they shouldn¡¯t mention Lord Walker or his ability which they so desperately needed. Instead, they focused on what the general asked, working hard to ensure the success of the upcoming mission to retake the mountain city. ----- Nero¡¯s mind was spinning¡­ he just couldn¡¯t accept what he¡¯d just heard. For the entire day, he¡¯d been listening to Vera try and impart a lifetime¡¯s worth of knowledge in an endless series of small and understandable mini lectures. After the history of Oglivarch¡¯s founding, she went on to explain the house system, the various iterations of the Center and how it came to be, even the founding and development of the guild and tower systems. Yet, her main focus was always on the Oglivarch¡¯s universal culture of nobility, which while influenced by the local customs of the cities, had elements that were the same everywhere. It was a matter of law, and the pillar on which their entire society was built. If you stumble upon this narrative on Amazon, it''s taken without the author''s consent. Report it. She went into painstaking detail about their definition of honor, the various responsibilities and rewards, and generally what it took to survive being a member of the noble class. He listened to her give countless examples of nobles interacting, up to and including duels. Which then led to an in depth conversation on when to demand one, and how to avoid dying in one. When it finally became late enough in the day for dinner, she even included a not-so-short lecture on proper etiquette and table manners. She went so far as to scold him for ¡®thanking¡¯ the servant who wheeled in their dinner on a little cart. Apparently, as a noble, he should have been thanking her, the host, and not her servants. Throughout the day, he¡¯d heard variations of the same warning. He needed to learn how things were done here, and how his actions would be perceived. Otherwise, all manner of trouble would come for him. She warned of economic ruin, loss of status, and being forced into the arena to suffer an ignoble death in front of the cheering masses. She¡¯d explained how a person¡¯s status, their home-city, their family name¡­ all of it dictated what they were allowed to do, and what could be asked of them. The accords governing the restrictions on how people could help one another, and the cities they were in, were so strict that someone could end up being sentenced to death for saving a person from being run over by a carriage. While she had gone into excruciatingly punishing detail on the philosophical reasons for such laws, Nero couldn¡¯t help but wonder why anyone with sufficient power didn¡¯t just ignore the law whenever they felt like it. Would the populators really assemble to go execute some high level badd-ass because he didn¡¯t feel like standing by and doing nothing while a village was left to be ripped apart by a beast tide? Apparently, the answer was yes¡­ they would. Everyone in Oglivarch had a role to play, and it was dictated by a variety of factors: where they hailed from, how powerful they were, what rank they were, what their job description was, what ties they had, it all came together to dictate what they should be doing, and what right they had to interfere with those below them in status. Vera even went on to explain why Jennings has been hiding out in his tower since things had gotten more and more out of hand. It wasn¡¯t like he didn¡¯t want to get involved, it was that he couldn¡¯t. These trials were for Dorchester to handle alone, and his aide would cause more problems than it would solve¡­ or so she said. Vera¡¯s tone, along with Cathleen and Rose¡¯s apparent affirmation of how serious the subject matter was, led to him paying attention to every word as if his life depended on it. From everything he was hearing, it truly sounded like it did. But now, he slowly set down his fork and leaned back in his chair. Eerily calm, he asked, ¡°I¡¯m sorry. Could you repeat that last bit?¡± Vera, who¡¯d not even touched her meal, was still standing next to her hologram. It was currently showing what she described as the standard model for an inter-house ladder system. To Nero it had started out looking like an overly complicated pyramid, or a family tree. However, by the time she finished, there were so many exceptions and rules defining special circumstances, that it had turned into more of a cloud model. Turning away from the hologram, she looked over at Nero and replied, ¡°I said that your house will not look like this at all. Remember, if you do become a unique, none of these rules will apply to you. You would be completely outside the house system. Therefore, you¡¯d be able start houses which would look like this in any number of cities, but you would never be in a house that arranged itself in this way.¡± Nero looked at her, fearing that the conclusion that he was coming to might be, in fact, be true. ¡°When you say ¡®these rules won¡¯t apply¡¯, you¡¯re just referring to the way my house is set up, right? Not the stuff about ¡®perceived honor¡¯ and its affect on my position in the city¡¯s ladder? The various levels of ritualized dueling, and all that stuff about ¡®implied collateral¡¯, ¡®standardized betting¡¯, ¡®city-rules¡¯ and how important it is to keep up with them? All of that crap¡­ that would still apply to me if I end up being a unique, right?¡± All three ladies looked at Nero in confusion. Even the silent servant who was manning the desert tray threw Nero a look that seemed to question his intelligence. Vera replied simply, ¡°Of course not. Haven¡¯t you been listening? These are the rules and codes that NOBLES live by. Anyone that would want to duel you, attack your house through either an economic war, or a formal declaration of war¡­ they would only be going after whoever you put in charge of your localized interests. As a unique, you¡¯ll have no home city, no local standing on the ladder, no reputation that you need to defend. You¡¯ll be able to interact with whoever you want, influence local events at your pleasure. Your participation in anything is completely voluntary. If you want to duel someone, you can, but if not, you don¡¯t have to. If anyone has a problem with you, they¡¯d have to file a formal complaint with the capital, and then hope that someone there cares enough to ask you politely to stop whatever it is that the local powers had a problem with. Honestly, Nero, this is very important. I need you to listen and try and pay attention to what I¡¯m trying to teach you.¡± Nero looked at the incredibly sincere expression on Vera¡¯s face, and came to the conclusion that he must be missing something. After lightly slapping his cheeks with his hands a few times to make sure he was fully in the moment, he said, ¡°OK. I promise you that I¡¯ve been paying attention. All God damn day I¡¯ve been paying attention. But, what I¡¯m asking you is that if I¡¯m going to end up being a unique, and none of this is going to apply to me, then why have you been telling me any of this?¡± Vera¡¯s mouth opened as if she were going to say something, then immediately closed it. This repeated a few times as she tried to figure out how to reply to Nero¡¯s most recent idiotic question. Nero¡¯s eyes didn¡¯t blink, as he stared directly into her eyes. Vera finally replied, ¡°Because this is important for you to know! It¡¯s the framework behind every interaction between the nobles. Everything they do, the way they think, how they see the world, all of it stems from the noble system. Without understanding why they do what they do, you will never be able to act like them. You will just continue to go through life, causing chaos, upending the delicate balances of every social situation you find yourself in. You will forever be an outsider.¡± Nero¡¯s glare didn¡¯t falter at all. ¡°Vera¡­ I appreciate what you¡¯re saying. But, has it ever occurred to you that I might not give a shit? It¡¯s one thing to try and fit in when there is the possibility of some asshole putting out a hit on me. Knowing how to avoid getting killed is a valid subject, one I¡¯m very interested in studying. In fact, it¡¯s probably going to end up being my favorite subject,¡± he said, then slowly raised his voice as he continued. ¡°But don¡¯t you think learning how nobles legally kill each other is waste of time if it isn¡¯t going to apply to me! How about telling me how nobles interact with uniques¡­ what are the ways in which I¡¯m liable to get myself killed? You¡¯re going to be running my Dorchester house, and you already know all of this! For all I know, I¡¯ll be on the first teleporter out of here in a few days. I¡¯ll probably be in the capital, getting a medal or something, then doing something altogether different to get myself killed than anything I¡¯ve done here. Tell me about things that might actually affect me,¡± he nearly screamed. By the time he was done, he had stood up and was clenching his fists at his side while taking heaving breathes. He just couldn¡¯t believe she had wasted the entire day explaining things that wouldn¡¯t even apply to him going forward. ¡®This is what you get for going to class. You learn a lot about shit that has nothing to do with you. Learn from this, Nero. And remember why you¡¯ve always been a staunch and steady advocate of self-study,¡¯ he told himself, while feeling his muscles unclench as he dropped heavily back into his chair, completely done with the subject of Oglivarchian nobility. Chapter 169 - Havent you been listening? Arch-mage Jennings was sitting at his desk, his shoulders slumped in defeat. In front of him were printouts of correspondence he had to deal with concerning his life-time of connections. All of which were being called upon to aid in the Tower of Magic¡¯s efforts to publicize and demystify the science around fate prediction. As it was technically his plan, he couldn¡¯t very well tell them that he was too busy to participate. So, here he was, up to his elbows in paperwork, trying to remember when throughout his long life he¡¯d ever met any of these pretentious, self-important nobles. It was times like these that he regretted not filling the office of director of the Tower of Magic with personal aides when he¡¯d had the chance. For the past few hundred years, he¡¯d preferred to treat the council of mages as his aides. He had figured that they¡¯d be doing everything they could to avoid talking to his aides, and coming to him directly anyway, so what was the point of surrounding himself with more people that he had to deal with on a daily basis. Besides, if every time one of the council contacted him with a problem, it ended up with them receiving more work from him, eventually they¡¯d all stop bothering him. It had worked wonderfully. Arch-mage Mathers and the council dealt with everything, and they only came to him when they didn¡¯t have another choice. But, now that he was in Dorchester, away from his center of power, he had no busywork to assign anyone. As a result, he¡¯s slowly but surely getting inundated with projects that only he is suited for. Looking up from his messy desk, he saw Mage-adept Newbanks standing there with a dissapointed look on her face. ¡°What?¡± he asked testily. She took a deep breathe, silently begging for patience. ¡°I asked what you wanted me to do about the Lord Walker situation?¡± she said again, realizing that the arch-mage in front of her hadn¡¯t been listening to a single thing she¡¯d said since she¡¯d come into the room. Frowning, the arch-mage tried to figure out what she was talking about. ¡°You mean the unique thing? I already took care of that. He¡¯ll be around to deal with the kobalds and figure out how to get them through the density shift. I mean, he¡¯s here, right? Might as well get stick to the plan,¡± he said. Raising a singular eyebrow in surprise, she asked, ¡°And how exactly did you deal with it? I just told you that the young man refused to comply with the evaluation team, and somehow got the team leader written up for abuse of power, threatening a new noble, and interference with a house head¡¯s growth. As far as I can tell, he hasn¡¯t comitted to staying in Dorchester, nor has he developed any kind of loyalty to the city at all. Do you want him to leave these people to their fate? You and I have both seen the predictions. Without intervention, the city is doomed, just as Tower of Fate predicted.¡± Arch-mage Jennings waved a dismissive finger at her, replying, ¡°No it is not! The Tower of Fate predicted that the density shift wouldn¡¯t happen for decades, and the kobalds aren¡¯t nearly as large a threat as they predicted. The Cosgraves haven¡¯t been replaced, and the army is still at full strength¡­ more or less. It is entirely possible for them to get through this without any outside intervention. Using Nero is just the most effective means to do it. There are plenty of mages here capable of figuring out the kobald¡¯s essence-echo technique.¡± Mage-adept Newbanks folded her arms in front of her chest, giving the arch-mage a look of disregard. ¡°I¡¯ve been working with these idiots since I¡¯ve arrived here in Dorchester. If you¡¯d bothered to speak with any of them, then you¡¯d know how pathetic this Tower is. Do you have any idea how hard it was to get them to look up the relevant research in order to finally them on the right path to figuring out how to scry through the essence disturbances, all without actually just telling them how to do it? I had to remove Mage-adept Melkins from his position, and lock the man in his chambers in order to stop him from taking over the entire scrying department!¡± The arch-mage looked at Newbanks with confusion and asked, ¡°Who the hell is Melkins?¡± Mage-adept Newbanks stared at the arch-mage, her normally composed face slightly frowning in anger. ¡°He was the director of applicable magic for Dorchester. As a citizen on loan from Pleetings, he¡¯s not allowed to do anything other than advise during city events,¡± she replied icily, not knowing how the arch-mage could spend the past few months here and NOT know who was heading the different departments. Not admitting to anything, the arch-mage waved away the subject, saying, ¡°Right. That guy. Good job. I knew from the moment I saw him that he was too emotional. You did the right thing.¡± Mage-adept Newbanks said nothing, just stared at the man. The silence got a little awkward, and Arch-mage Jennings asked, ¡°Is that all?¡± Dropping her hands to her sides, her voiced raised a little louder than necessary when she immediately replied, ¡°No, it¡¯s not. You haven¡¯t told me how you¡¯re going to handle the Lord Walker situation!¡± The arch-mage nearly flinched at the woman¡¯s tone. ¡®All of the heaven¡¯s above! I really hate administrators,¡¯ he said to himself. Straightening up in his chair, he said, ¡°I already hinted to those who needed to hear it. Lord Walker won¡¯t be going anywhere. I¡¯ve also looked over the application the army put in for his citizenship upgrade, and despite it being obvious that the young man qualifies as a unique, I don¡¯t think anyone will require his immediate presence in Hennings. Rest assured, I¡¯ve taken care of everything.¡± Right after he said that, the communication orb connecting his office to Hennings lit up, and a scry window appeared with Mathers¡¯ face taking up the entire hologram. Mathers did not look happy. Not even bothering with a greeting, he asked, ¡°Why am I being bombarded by requests for temporary leave, each one making it clear that they intend to take up teaching positions at the Center-point academy in Hennings? Every one of them is requesting a letter of recommendation so that they can be assigned the mentorship of Lord Walker. It¡¯s been less than five minutes, and I¡¯ve received over 60 of them already! I thought you said you were planning on keeping him in Dorchester for the time being?¡± Arch-mage Jennings looked at Mathers with a shocked look on his face. Not knowing what to say, as he had no idea what the man was talking about, he just matched the man¡¯s stare in silence for a few seconds. ¡°Oh, yes. You¡¯ve got it all handled. I believe you,¡± Mage-adept Newbanks said, her voice filled with as much mockery as was humanly possible for her to convey without sarcastically calling the man a ¡®genius¡¯. ----- ¡°So, provisionally, I¡¯m already a unique? And therefore, I can create my own personal group which no one will object to me calling ¡®my adventuring party¡¯? Then all I have to do is sign a few papers, and then you¡¯re allowed to take over the running of my house, while I fuck off and do whatever the hell I want?¡± asked Nero, not believing for a second that it was as simple as she made it sound. Nodding, Vera replied, ¡°Yes, technically that¡¯s true. The evaluation team will follow you wherever it is you choose to go. They are not allowed to limit your decisions, and are required to work with you to complete their evaluation at whatever pace you decide on. However, if for some reason they believe you are avoiding the evaluation, then it is another matter entirely.¡± Nero nodded, his mind moving a thousand miles an hour. The recent revelations about what it meant to be a unique were filling his mind with all sorts of delightful possibilities. Although he was pretty sure he wasn¡¯t a mutant, and his ability to ¡®see¡¯ essence was entirely due to his abnormal stats, according to Vera he still qualified as a unique. Furthermore, his ability was so impressive, that everyone in power should already be trembling at the thought of what he might do after the paperwork finally went through. From what Vera said, it seemed like he was no longer under the nobility¡¯s control. No more trials, as they were put off indefinitely. No more threat of assassination from the locals because he now had zero power to affect their position. If anything, Vera was now in more danger than he was, as she was the ¡®de facto¡¯ head of his house in everyone¡¯s mind (a fact she didn¡¯t seem to care about in the least). No more elite training. No more monsters and kobalds trying to kill him. No more camping in the woods, or getting his ass ¡®trained¡¯ by Cathleen. He could do whatever he wanted. A thought popped into his head, and he asked, ¡°Could I go to magic school?¡± Vera¡¯s face was calm, her personal opinions completely hidden. ¡°Yes. As a unique, any school would be more than happy to have you as a student. The kingdom would even pay for it. I imagine that they would go so far as to personalize your curriculum if you asked them to,¡± she said. A case of content theft: this narrative is not rightfully on Amazon; if you spot it, report the violation. Nero nodded while pressing his fist to his chin in thought. Everyone could tell that Nero was no longer paying attention. It was clear that he needed time to process what he¡¯d just heard. ¡®I could¡­ just leave. I could go to magic school, cash my checks from my investments while Vera runs all my businesses. I mean, other than Vera and Nick, I don¡¯t owe the nobles here anything other than a middle finger as I head off into the sunset, do I?¡¯ he thought to himself. After several minutes of silence, he stood up and walked a little away from the couch in order to pace a little while he continued to think through everything he¡¯d just learned. His mind raced through all the various routes his future might take. He could leave, go back to school and focus completely on his magic. Or he could apply for some kind of tourist visa and have the kingdom sponsor him traveling around Oglivarch while seeing the sights, studying at whatever pace he felt like. Maybe he could get a job with the Tower of Magic and do some kind of internship study program. Looking over his shoulder, he saw the three ladies were all patiently watching him. Rose looked mildly interested in what decision he might ultimately come to, and Cathleen looked like she didn¡¯t care one way or another. But Vera¡­ she looked too calm. In fact, now that he thought about it, she¡¯d been acting weird all day. Something was different about her. Like always, she was calm and collected. But now that he looked closer, it wasn¡¯t the same kind of calm and collected. He¡¯d thought it was just how she taught, but now he wondered if there might not be more to it. As he looked at her blank expression, which was completely devoid of any hint of what she was thinking, he decided that he was once again missing something. Her demeanor seemed fake, as if she were pretending to be as in control as she usually was. Before he could verbalize what he was thinking, the essence in the air to his left started churning. Taking a step back, he instinctively raised his hands as if he were preparing for a fight. Less than a second later, a golden flash caused him to blink before he opened his eyes to see an irate Arch-mage Jennings standing there with a furious look on his face. Glaring at Vera, the arch-mage didn¡¯t give anyone any time to breathe before he barked, ¡°Are you trying to get him out of Dorchester? Is that it?¡± Nero didn¡¯t know what the old man was talking about. The abrupt arrival and outlandish accusation had made his brain stutter to a halt. Vera, however, was made of sterner stuff, and matched the old man¡¯s glare with one of her own. ¡°I hear what you¡¯re implying, and I while I appreciate that there are matters that I am unaware of, I choose to act as proxy and friend to Lord Nero. I thought about what you said, and I decided that neither your nor anyone else¡¯s feelings or desires should influence his decisions. Not even mine,¡± she spoke with determination, squaring her shoulders as if she were preparing herself for a futile fight against an unimaginably strong opponent. Nero blinked a few times, trying to figure out what the hell they were talking about. The arch-mage ran a hand through his hair, as if he were overwhelmed with frustration. ¡°I reviewed your so-called explanation of society, and I think I understand what you were trying to do. However, I regret to inform you that you are going about it all wrong. Your trying to impart a moral foundation on the young man as if he were a child. You don¡¯t seem to grasp the concept of him already having a moral foundation that is completely alien to us. Don¡¯t you see¡­ your lesson plan is inherently flawed! You¡¯re practically driving him off!¡± he shouted, his tone becoming increasingly angry the longer he spoke. Vera didn¡¯t back down from the shouting powerhouse, despite the fact that the essence in the room was vibrating in tune with every huff of angry air that billowed out of his mouth. Gripping her hands in fists at her side, Vera replied, ¡°I don¡¯t agree at all. Nero is a good man. He¡¯ll do what¡¯s right in the end. Nobody has the right to dictate his path, least of all you. Sitting up there in your tower, playing games with the mortals below you. How dare you accuse me of influencing Nero!¡± The young man in question was completely lost, and he didn¡¯t like the way this conversation was going. He saw that Rose had somehow disappeared when he hadn¡¯t been looking. Cathleen had taken up a flanking position, and now had a look in her eye that promised violence, her intention to side with Vera was more than obvious. Before things escalated any further, he shouted, ¡°Hold up! What the hell are you two talking about?¡± After tossing a final glare at Vera, the arch-mage turned to Nero and replied, ¡°Nero, there is a lot more going on than you are not capable of understanding at the moment. Vera here, while having noble intentions, is steering you toward a decision that you should not be making.¡± Nero¡¯s eyes bounced between the arch-mage, who was looking at him like a child in way over his head, and Vera, who was glaring at the arch-mage as if she had been mortally offended at the accusation. All the sudden, Nero recalled a lesson he¡¯d learned a very long time ago. His mind brought up a memory of an unenthusiastic college professor telling the class that everything they would learn in his class would only represent his opinion on the information, and if they really wanted to study philosophy, they¡¯d better come to their own conclusions. However, if their conclusions were stupid, or poorly defined, then they shouldn¡¯t bother complaining when he failed them. It had been an introduction to philosophy class which he¡¯d taken because it was supposed to be an easy general studies credit. Honestly, the only thing he remembered from the class was the singular lesson that every piece of information someone offered usually came with an agenda attached. For the most part, the conclusion you were supposed to reach was included in the information presented if you bothered looking for it. Right as he was about to respond to the arch-mage, a voice interrupted him. Coming from the hallway behind him, Nero felt Nick coming into the room. ¡°Hey, Nero, are you feeling something weird going on with the essence arou-,¡± Nick started to say before trailing off when he saw the tense situation along with the unexpected guest. After taking a second to gulp in fear, Nick said, ¡°Greetings arch-mage, what seems to be the problem?¡± Arch-mage Jennings rolled his eyes and replied, ¡°Your wife is trying to instill a lifetime of values into a foreign soul without any regard for the extenuating circumstances! Why in all the hells did you rely on a politician to disseminate any information to the boy!¡± Nick¡¯s eyebrows rose in surprise, his eyes immediately going to Vera and starting the type of silent conversation that only people who had been married for years could have. Nero took this opportunity to interject, ¡°Seriously! Stop talking about me like I¡¯m not in the damn room. Someone better start making sense before I take off my shoe and start beating you all to death with it!¡± Nero could only assume Nick and Vera were having a conversation over their link, as their faces were going through a variety of expressions in less than a few seconds. Nick took a deep breathe, then turned to look at the arch-mage and with his voice absurdly calm, he asked, ¡°Arch-mage, perhaps you could start over from the beginning. I¡¯d like to understand your grievance and see if I can alleviate any of your concerns. Please take a seat.¡± As he spoke, Nick made his way over to the couches and sat down. Almost immediately, the tension in the room seamed to disappear and everyone took their seats. Meanwhile, Nero remained standing, not understanding how a few words resulted in everyone calming down and the atmosphere completely changing in an instant. ¡°What the hell! Are you people bi-polar or something?¡± he screamed, his adrenaline still pumping from the almost-violence he¡¯d just suffered through. Vera¡¯s voice sounded like a patient parent trying to placate a child who was currently in the middle of a tantrum. ¡°Nero, this is a perfect example of what I was trying to explain to you concerning how nobles interact, and the various methods through which they can resolve conflicts.¡± Narrowing his eyes, Nero stared at the woman while slowly taking a seat next Nick. Currently, Cathleen and Vera were sharing a couch opposite them. While off to the side, Arch-mage Jennings had taken a couch all to his own. They were sitting around the coffee table in silence, as if they had all silently come to an agreement to discuss everything with civility and logic. Nero¡¯s mind started working again as his heart rate began to calm down. It was obvious that Jennings had once again been spying on them, and something he¡¯d seen had caused him to lose his shit. Was it something Vera had said that he disagreed with, or maybe some agenda Nero hadn¡¯t noticed? Could Vera have betrayed him in some way? Chapter 170 - Who we are when no one is watching. Vera looked at her reflection, unhappy with the accusation she could see in the mirror-woman¡¯s eyes. Looking past her shoulder, she could see Nick easing himself into their bed with a sigh. ¡®Poor man really isn¡¯t cut out for life outside of the lab,¡¯ she thought with a smile. Her mind went over the hectic day she¡¯d had. The stress of having to rush to the keep, trying and failing to come to terms with the fact that Nero had been put up for unique citizenship, and that the evaluation team was already here. It was all adding up to more than she could handle. She¡¯d known he was special¡­ but a unique? ¡®I¡¯m not sure if I can play at this level,¡¯ she thought, her emotions tinged with the feeling of not being good enough. Looking through the mirrors reflection, she stared at her husband and closest confidant. ¡°Nicholas, how could you let this happen?¡± she asked, her voice devoid of judgment, but full of remorse. Nick locked eyes with her through the mirror, his wry smile full of understanding. ¡°There wasn¡¯t much of a choice, dear. He closed a planar rift, on his own, in full view of a war-mage. Not to mention the fact that he copied and used soul magic in a way that even I don¡¯t understand. It was either expose the secret, or try and explain the impossible.¡± Her shoulders dropped, accepting that it was out of their hands. Now, she had to focus on how to handle the nuances and changes to the plots she had so carefully set up. So much that she had planned was now irrelevant. ¡°I know you intended on keeping him close while helping him build his house, and learn what it means to be a noble, but I don¡¯t think that¡¯s a possibility anymore. He¡¯s meant for a bigger stage than Dorchester,¡± he said, his voice laden with concern for his caring wife. He knew that she struggled with herself on how to deal with Nero. On one hand, she thought of him like a son, but on the other, she was using him to progress her plans for their own house. While he wasn¡¯t overly concerned with politics, he knew it was what she lived for. She was a complicated woman, his Vera. As Nick looked on, he watched her rub lotia-cream on her face as she went about her nightly ritual. He listened as she started speaking, voicing her concerns and relying on his unwavering support. ¡°It¡¯s just that there is so much he doesn¡¯t understand. He¡¯s clueless about the games going on around him. He thinks he sees through everyone, but he is still too naive. Being a unique won¡¯t help him at all, if anything, it will make the situation even worse. You haven¡¯t been here. You haven¡¯t seen what they¡¯ve been doing,¡± she said, her voice sounding tired. Nick asked curiously, ¡°What do you mean?¡± Vera scoffed, as if the plot was so obvious it was insulting. ¡°They¡¯re spreading rumors and manipulating the commoners. Someone is propping Nero up as some kind of budding legend. I don¡¯t know who it is, but I can guess their plan. They intend to pin the hopes of Dorchester onto his shoulders. After all the grief they¡¯ve put him through, they have the gall to trick him into fighting for them. And if the city falls, they¡¯ll say it¡¯s because he failed. And then, during the rebuild, while House Walker has no income, they will petition for his removal.¡± Nick asked, ¡°Won¡¯t him being a unique interfere with their plans?¡± Vera shook her head, replying, ¡°I would have thought so, but now, I don¡¯t know. The arch-mage himself asked me to influence Nero to stay here in Dorchester. I¡¯m sure they¡¯re planning something, but I just don¡¯t know what.¡± Nick¡¯s eyebrow¡¯s rose in surprise. ¡°Really? That¡¯s surprising. I would have thought he¡¯d want someone like Nero out of danger, and hidden somewhere he¡¯d be able to keep an eye on him.¡± Nodding, Vera said, ¡°Yes, that¡¯s what worries me. I can understand the general and the city-lord playing their games, maneuvering Nero into the forefront of the battle, and I already had plans to deal with that. In fact, I¡¯ve been in contact with the new court-mage who¡¯d helped me get your team assigned one of the survey missions.¡± Nick frowned, unhappy with the idea that she was doing the same kind of back-room political dealings that he usually spent his time ranting about. ¡°But, I think I was played. I was under the impression that you were being sent somewhere safe, out of the way of any potential danger. Now, it turns out that you and Nero were assigned to watch over the kobald¡¯s exit tunnel. I can¡¯t imagine that being a coincidence,¡± she said. Nick thought about it, and replied, ¡°Don¡¯t be so sure, it very well could have been. We don¡¯t really know what the kobalds were planning. And from what I can tell, the only one in Dorchester who can breach their illusions is Nero. It would be very difficult for the general and the city-lord to have deliberately arranged for this to happen.¡± Vera turned around and stared at Nick, her face utterly serious. ¡°That¡¯s what worries me. Who could have known about the kobalds? Perhaps an arch-mage? One who wants to push Nero to his limits? One who has come in person from the capital to watch over his personal project?¡± Nick¡¯s jaw dropped open in shock. It was one thing to consider that the arch-mage had miscalculated and allowed an assassination attempt to go through without interference. It was quite another to consider that the man had actively put Nero in danger in order to inspire faster growth, and to possibly see what Nero was capable of. It would be both highly illegal and morally reprehensible. Nick¡¯s eyes firmed, and his entire being took on the aspect of a protective father. ¡°What do you think we should do? I¡¯m not sure I like the idea of letting Nero go if he¡¯s going to have to face plots at that kind of level.¡± Vera sighed, simultaneously glad that Nick felt the same as her, while also unhappy that he didn¡¯t seem to have any ideas. Turning back to her mirror, she matched stares with her reflection. ¡°I¡¯ve been trying to keep my desire for influence and power in check when it comes to my position as proxy and my plans for our own house. I wanted to raise Nero into a powerful noble, completely reliant on only himself. Something about him, maybe the sense of friendship and trust he exudes whenever he¡¯s around, makes me want to keep him close. But I¡¯m starting to feel like I won¡¯t be able to protect him from the kind of people who are interested in him,¡± she said, staring into her frustrated reflection. Stolen from Royal Road, this story should be reported if encountered on Amazon. Getting out of bed, Nick walked over and placed his hands on her shoulders so he could stare into her reflection. Locking his eyes onto hers, he said, ¡°We¡¯ll just have to do our best. We may not be his parents, but we are his friends. He needs to know how this world works. Being a unique isn¡¯t going to stop them plotting. Tomorrow, focus on teaching him how the world really is, and what he needs to know to survive. We¡¯ll let him make his own decisions, and then we can plan around them.¡± Nodding, Vera looked lovingly up at her husband and said, ¡°Yes, that¡¯s really all we can do. Teach him the right way to look at the world, then hope he makes the correct decision.¡± Nick smiled at her and asked, ¡°And what decision is that, dear?¡± Vera leaned back into her husband¡¯s chest and replied wistfully, ¡°To stay where he has support, and where he can make a difference. But to do it on his own terms, and not at the behest of anyone here in Dorchester. He¡¯ll have to blaze his own trail, and make a decision without anyone influencing him. He needs to embrace the idea that he can do whatever he wants, while still choosing to remain with those few people he can trust¡­ Us.¡± Nick¡¯s smile was all teeth as he replied, ¡°If we intend to help him, then we¡¯ll have to do our part. He¡¯s already put you in charge of his house. I¡¯ll apply for the completion of my noble trial on account of the battle I just survived. That will only leave the trial of legacy left, and that¡¯s an easy fix. Why don¡¯t you come to bed, and we can see about getting me a title.¡± Vera smirked, while offering her husband a mock-glare. ¡°Sure. Let¡¯s see if you¡¯re up to earning it, my lord,¡± she replied with some mirth. ----- Arch-mage Jennings started off the conversation by stating, ¡°Before we begin, I¡¯d like to formally state that I am in no way advocating for Lord Walker to take any particular path, and I have not interest in his life aside from that as of observer.¡± Nero recognized legalese, otherwise known as ass-covering bullshit when he heard it. However, in the interest of seeing where the old man was going with this, he kept his mouth shut. ¡°That being said, there are a lot of considerations that should be taken into account when Lord Walker decides how he intends to move forward in the coming days,¡± said the arch-mage, who was obviously trying to talk around whatever subject seemed to be at the center of this confusing conflict. Nick replied with a calm smile, ¡°We also do not wish to overtly influence Lord Walker¡¯s path. As allies of House Walker, we only wish to help him achieve whatever goals he chooses to work toward. My wife is Lord Walker¡¯s proxy, and as such, has a responsibility to inform him of the proper protocols and social systems that make up Oglivarch. It is her duty to provide advice and guidance, while not leading him down any particular path. There was never any intention to or plot to influence his decisions, or affect his path in any way outside of an educational supportive manner.¡± Nero listened to Nick¡¯s response, trying to understand what they weren¡¯t saying. He¡¯d been around long enough to know when people were saying one thing, while meaning another. However, as good as he was at understanding people¡¯s motivations, he was always crap at reading between the lines. In fact, he usually went out of his way to play dumb until whoever was playing word games snapped and finally stated outright what they were annoyingly trying to say without saying. Figuring he¡¯d save everyone a lot of time, and himself from a headache, he said, ¡°Look, I don¡¯t really know what¡¯s going on, but obviously there is a lot of subtext and crap that I¡¯m missing. How about we just cut the bullshit, and put it all out there. First, let¡¯s start with Jennings¡­ what is your beef with Vera?¡± Surprisingly, it was Vera who answered him. ¡°Nero, remember the lesson we just had on what people certain stations are allowed to do, and what limitations they are required to operate under?¡± Turning to look at her, he said, ¡°Yeah. Stupid ass policies that result in limited freedoms and end up getting people killed. What about them?¡± Everyone in the room stared at Nero, each one silently urging him to think harder. After a few seconds of silence, where Nero looked around the circle and wondered why everyone was staring at him, Nick asked, ¡°Vera, dear. Did you happen to cover the ways around said rules?¡± Like a flash of lightning, Nero¡¯s mind exploded into understanding. ¡®All that crap she was spouting about how the nobles lived their lives was supposed to be teaching me something that I was supposed to learn through inference. She couldn¡¯t say what she wanted me to learn, because¡­ well, why the hell not?¡¯ he wondered, feeling like he was so close to an epic realization but just falling short. Vera replied, ¡°Of course we covered how social monitoring works, and the automatic regulation of interaction. I just don¡¯t think he was listening.¡± Nero, now offended, replied quickly, ¡°I heard everything you said. Is this about those assholes that are always scrying me? Can¡¯t we just put up a ward or something to block them out? That way you can tell me whatever illegal crap you want, and they¡¯ll never know about it.¡± At that, Cathleen started chuckling, while Vera and Nick both dropped their heads in defeat. Arch-mage Jennings could only shake his head at the young man¡¯s audacity. Seeing their reactions, Nero asked, ¡°What? Just freaking say what you want to say!¡± Arch-mage Jennings finally broke, Nero¡¯s straight-forward demeanor leaving him with little choice. Looking up into the sky, he said, ¡°As the Director of the Hennings Tower of Magic, and the first mage of Oglivarch, I hereby invoke this discussion to secrecy and list this entire meeting under the accords governing military intelligence.¡± After he spoke, Nero felt the entire room¡¯s essence flow come to a startling stop. It was like the hidden world all around him froze in place. Like a series of rubber-bands, he felt countless ¡®snaps¡¯ rebound against his mind as if multiple tethers had all been severed. Reeling back into the couch, Nero rubbed his temples and shouted, ¡°What the fuck was that?¡± Nick reached over and patted his shoulder, saying, ¡°That, Nero, is what it feel like when an arch-mage takes control of all of the essence in an area. What you just felt was the multiple scrying links attached to your identity being forcibly broken. We are now in an isolation sphere, and completely at Arch-mage Jennings¡¯ mercy.¡± Looking up in confusion, he saw everyone in the room completely frozen in fear. Vera looked like she was three shades whiter than she had been, and even Cathleen was clenching her jaw and trembling. Turning to look at the arch-mage, Nero asked, ¡°OK¡­ but why?¡± The arch-mage gave Nero a look he hadn¡¯t seen in a while. It was that look that reminded Nero that he knew nothing, and he should really take the time to think before he opened his mouth and burdened everyone around him with his idiocy. Nero watched the arch-mage lean forward to pour himself something to drink from the tray on the coffee table. To Nero, the man looked calmer and more peace than Nero had ever seen him. After seeming to relish the silence for a few moments, Arch-mage Jennings took a sip of coffee and smiled. ¡°It¡¯s been ages since I¡¯ve been completely separated from any connections. I really should schedule a few hours every year to just bask in this feeling.¡± Nero, reaching out with his senses, tried to figure out what the man was talking about. To him, everything still looked mostly the same. Although he couldn¡¯t touch or take control of any of the essence flows, they were all still there. His sight and senses were not affected in the slightest. But before he could ask what the big deal was, Jennings spoke up. ¡°OK, Nero. Straight talk,¡± he said, then set down his cup and leaned forward, putting his elbows on his knees and meeting Nero¡¯s eyes with a glare. Nero, leaned forward to match the man¡¯s posture, and replied, ¡°Alright, old man. Hit me with it.¡± Chapter 171 - Through the eyes of the wise. Mage-adept Newbanks stood off to the side of the astra-platform, watching the Dorchester council of leadership say goodbye to the majority of the evaluation team. Only three members were being left behind in Dorchester, primarily because someone had to stay and maintain the monitoring link with Lord Walker. ¡®What a complete and utter disaster. Not to mention a colossal waste of time,¡¯ she thought to herself. When she¡¯d learned about Lord Walker¡¯s ascension in status, she hadn¡¯t had a lot of time. Nevertheless, she¡¯d still managed to arrange for sympathetic agents to lead the evaluation team. It had taken a lot of effort, and no small amount of promises, but Lord Cranston had really come through. Or at least that was what she had thought 14 hours ago. Now, all that effort had been wasted because the agent she¡¯d been sent couldn¡¯t swallow her pride and use what limited mental stats she had to think before she spoke. Mage-adept Newbanks may not have been in the room when the confrontation occurred, but it is obvious that the woman had been played by Lord Walker. ¡®That poor excuse for an academic had one job: keep the young man in Dorchester for the time being. How did she manage to fail so spectacularly, and so quickly!¡¯ she thought to herself heatedly. Now, the new evaluation team was coming in, and she hadn¡¯t managed to get a single agent onto the roster. All she¡¯d been able to find out was that the group had member from several of the great houses, each of which had close ties with the Tower of Magic. As a member of the tower herself, that should have made it easy for her to find out who was coming, instead she found herself being kept out of loop. It was almost as if there were some hidden faction inside the Tower intent on playing their own game. With a flash of light, the people on the astra-platform switched, and the new evaluation team appeared in Dorchester. Only 7 academics had been sent, and their leader was a youthful young man with a wide smile on his face. They were all dressed as academics, yet none of them had the gravitas or presence of anyone of importance. Narrowing her eyes in suspicion, she tried to figure out how people like this managed to get assigned to such a high-profile case. Stepping down from the platform, the leader approached the council directly and slightly bowed as if he were simply offering a courtesy. ¡°Thank you for the welcome. I am Academian Quincy. I¡¯ll be taking over the evaluation of Lord Walker. I apologize for my predecessor¡¯s actions, and assure you that I have no intention of abusing my very limited authority. My team and I are only here to observe, and we will do nothing to influence Dorchester¡¯s path, or any of it¡¯s citizens, including those of Lord Walker,¡± he promised, his words full of warmth and sincerity. Mage-adept Newbanks kept her face neutral, but inside she felt herself panicking. She recognized that young man. It was years ago, but she knew for a fact she¡¯d seen him mage robes. ¡®How did a mage manage to get himself onto a team of academics?!?¡¯ she wondered. ----- ¡°As usual, you have a frame of reference problem. You¡¯re not an idiot, so you know that many people, including nobles here in Dorchester, and probably several other cities, all have some interest in limiting your options and steering you to act in accordance with their goals. For example, I can tell you for a fact that the evaluation team is being led by an agent from House Cranston in Hennings. If you recall, their lord was the one who¡¯d arranged for the assassination attempt you suffered in the arena. He and several houses spent a lot of political capital to take over the evaluation team. I don¡¯t know what they want, but rest assured, they want something. But not all threats are from so far away. Both the city-lord and the general are very interested in what you plan on doing once you formally become a unique. They are plotting in secret, while their agents and associate houses attack your economic interests and try and force you into going along with their plans,¡± warned Jennings, speaking rapidly and not pulling any punches. Nero nodded, not at all surprised, replying, ¡°Duh¡­ so what?¡± The arch-mage merely smirked and continued, ¡°What your wonderful proxy was trying to get you to realize was that regardless of what title you have, you¡¯ll still be involved in the political games of whatever city you find yourself in.¡± Nero interrupted him, saying, ¡°Once again, duh!¡± Frowning, Jennings ignored Nero and kept talking. ¡°Since you¡¯ve arrived in Dorchester, several people have skirted the lines of legality in many ways. It was all technically legal by the local standards, but a unique is not a local citizen. If you wanted to, you could bring in lawbringers from the capital to mediate and review your disputes with the local powers. Since Dorchester is currently in a state of war, while also suffering the effects of a density shift, this is the last thing the leadership wants to be dealing with. Kingdom lawbringers may not agree with how the locals have handled you, and they are fully in their rights to demand that further action needs to be taken in regards to how you¡¯ve been treated,¡± he said, his voice full of doom, implying how bad that would be for Dorchester¡¯s nobility. Leaning back in understaning, Nero thought, ¡®Oh. So they¡¯re worried I¡¯ll call in the feds now that I¡¯ve got some juice at the kingdom level. I guess that makes sense.¡¯ Jennings continued, ¡°Now, that being said, the Dorchester nobility still wants you to stay. You see, you were able to pierce the kobald¡¯s technique which was hiding their forces. Properly utilized, you could change the entire face of the war. You could allow the humans here to regain their primary advantage of fighting within their city¡¯s domain. With your aid, you could allow the local Tower of Magic to find what the kobalds are hiding, scout their deployment strategy, figure out their plans, and shorten the duration of the war considerably.¡± Nero nodded along, seeing sense in what the old man was saying. ¡°And let me guess. The only reason I can act, while someone like you cannot is that I¡¯m outside of the political structure now. So why don¡¯t they just ask me for my help?¡± A case of content theft: this narrative is not rightfully on Amazon; if you spot it, report the violation. Arch-mage Jennings smiled and replied, ¡°Because currently you¡¯re under evaluation for your elevation to unique citizenship. You see, while you are outside the rules, they are not. While you were a noble, you operated under the local hierarchy. Now, your only tie to Dorchester is through her.¡± He pointed at Vera and continued, ¡°She¡¯s the only one in Dorchester who is legally allowed to ask for your aid. Which she was refusing to do, and the primary reason for the conflict you just saw.¡± Vera, still shaken by the feeling of the essence being completely out of her control, stuttered, ¡°I will not abuse my friendship with him to influence or affect his path in any way. Nero is a good man, and will do what is right without me plotting against him.¡± Rolling his eyes, the arch-mage scathingly replied, ¡°So that¡¯s it. You really are a politician. Your entire being is mired in the game.¡± Nick, handling the essence issue much better than his wife, chimed in, ¡°Hey! Watch it. I might not be able to duel you, but I can still think of several laws you¡¯ve broken that I¡¯m sure the Tower of Law in Hennings would love to hear about.¡± Nero looked over at Nick, proud to see his friend standing up for his woman. The arch-mage waved a dismissive hand in the air, as if he didn¡¯t take Nick¡¯s threat seriously at all. ¡°You see Nero, she wasn¡¯t trying to teach you about being a noble. She was using the subject to convey how nobility here works. The unspoken rule that is illegal to talk about is: If you don¡¯t say it, it¡¯s not what you mean. From what I can tell, wherever it is you hail from, it was incredibly easy to hide your actions and your plans. Here though, someone is always watching. I¡¯m sure there are many houses watching Vera¡¯s every move. The only safe place to have a conversation is probably in their bedroom, which they couldn¡¯t bring you into as you are currently under evaluation. If you haven¡¯t figured it out, it is currently against the law to hide you from your evaluators at the moment. Therefore, she couldn¡¯t just come out and tell you what she wanted you to know, not without knowingly violating the law.¡± Nero, while mildly surprised, was quickly catching up with all the various things he¡¯d overlooked or simply misunderstood, said, ¡°OK. So, I¡¯m under constant watch for the moment. While that¡¯s creepy, I guess I can see how that makes sense. I¡¯ve grown pretty used to feeling people¡¯s eyes on me, so no worries there. But, I don¡¯t unders-¡­ Wait, I get it. You put up the secrecy thing because what you¡¯re telling me now is technically illegal too.¡± The arch-mage nodded, his face utterly serious. ¡°Yes, Nero. As an exceedingly high level citizen of Hennings, I¡¯m not allowed to influence your choices, whether it¡¯s for your own benefit or not. Me being here, explaining these things to you, is entirely unethical, and more than a little illegal.¡± Nero took a moment to think, then asked, ¡°So, ¡®influence¡¯ means anyone offering suggestions or recommendations on how I should go about leading my life? Doesn¡¯t that seem a little impractical? How can you have a conversation with anyone without some kind of influence happening? This system seems inherently flawed.¡± The arch-mage leaned back in his chair with a fond smile on his face and replied, ¡°It is, and it isn¡¯t. I know you learned about the social hierarchy from Vera¡¯s lecture, but she didn¡¯t do a very good job of putting it in a way that you¡¯d understand. For Oglivarchians, these aren¡¯t just laws, they¡¯re moral imperatives. It is not just ¡®rude¡¯ to try and influence someone you have no claim over, it¡¯s outright evil. Lot¡¯s of people can be an influence on who you are and who you become. The laws are there to formalize how that is structured. Your family members, house head, and personal relations¡­ all of them have a legal right to give you advice and help you on your path. People immediately above you on the ladder, along with supervisors and mentors that you¡¯ve chosen to work with. But there is a massive difference between that and someone like me coming along and telling you what I, in my infinite wisdom, think you should do. The law is there for a reason, because with such an inherent power difference, will you do what I say because you fear me, or because you agree with me?¡± Nero groaned, immediately drawing a mental comparison to what he remembered as ridiculous Earth laws about power dynamics and crap like that. Looking over at Vera, he asked, ¡°So, you were like, what? Trying to let me make my own choices without being an evil influencer or something?¡± Vera narrowed her eyes, not liking Nero¡¯s tone. ¡°I wouldn¡¯t put it quite like that, but yes, essentially.¡± Nero turned back to the arch-mage, giving him a scathing glare, and said, ¡°I¡¯ve said it before, and I¡¯ll say it again. Your entire society is stupid, and you¡¯re all crazy. You stop powerful and informed people from helping those less fortunate, and you even go so far as making laws to enforce your idiocy. The entire point of civilization is to pass on knowledge to the next generation. Hoarding knowledge, let alone wisdom is a sure-fire way to slow humanity¡¯s development to a crawl.¡± Arch-mage Jennings surprisingly didn¡¯t take offense, but instead replied easily, ¡°And what would the alternative be? Allow a few strong people to dictate the lives of everyone weaker than them? It used to be exactly like that. Powerful rulers spanning the entire spectrum between benevolence all the way down to the truly vile. Ideological principles forced onto the masses through the threat of the common citizens safety being stripped away. Our society developed this way for a reason. I understand how you see it as completely foreign to what you¡¯re used to, but it didn¡¯t develop this way without reason. The journey to wisdom has to be taken by each and every citizen on their own. Civilization is not about passing down knowledge, but developing a framework to ensure the process is protected.¡± Nero narrowed his eyes and leaned back into the couch cushions so that he could stare up at the ceiling and take and try to see it from their perspective. In many ways, he understood that it was just an application of ¡®give a man a fish, and he eats for a day, but teach a man to fish, and he eats for a lifetime¡¯. But they¡¯d taken it well past the point of common sense and approached the level of extremism. That being said, should he really fault them? It wasn¡¯t like he couldn¡¯t see how the entire system was based around letting people grow up, make mistakes, learn their lessons, and level up on their own. And it wasn¡¯t like they hoarded knowledge. It was there for anyone to go looking for it. The leveling system itself was based around the idea of people interpreting knowledge and incorporating it into their own personality. So, in a way, it made sense not to limit what people could learn. Furthermore, restricting how people taught and presented their opinions allowed the masses to come to their own conclusions. However, it also resulted in a society where no one said what they actually meant. Which was, of course, totally ironic considering the fact that translation magic made sure everyone understood each other. It also left everyone all alone, completely reliant on themselves for all of their deep insights. All of the sudden, Nero finally understood what the center was really for. It was a place that legally allowed someone to go and ask someone what their options were. They didn¡¯t go their for advice, or for a job¡­ that was all secondary. What they really went there for was hearing what options were available by someone who had legal authority to disseminate that kind of information. Nero was brought out of his thoughts by the arch-mage¡¯s voice. ¡°Now, Nero. This all leads to a very important question. What are your plans moving forward? Take this opportunity to ask any question you want, and I will give you as clear and concise an answer as possible. I won¡¯t hide my answers in riddles, or otherwise prevaricate in any way. But by the end of this conversation, you¡¯ll once again be on your own. So think carefully, and choose your questions wisely,¡± he said, his voice over laden with wisdom and authority. Nero dead-panned at the man, his face doing a very passable impression of an anime character. ¡°Seriously? Overly dramatic much? As usual, you¡¯re all unnecessarily complicating things. You guys don¡¯t want to interfere with my personal journey and all that crap? Fine, I get it. Your fascist government is listening to everything we say and are just waiting for their chance to come down on you? Sure, why not. I¡¯ll even agree that there are probably tons of schemes and plots that I¡¯m currently unaware of and probably going to have to eventually deal with. But besides all that, I think that you are all overestimating how much I actually care about your opinion. That being said, you all do you. Now, if you really want to waste an afternoon answering my questions and hiding me from the evil overlords in the sky, I¡¯m all for it,¡± he said. Sitting up at the edge of the couch, he rubbed his hands together and said, ¡°Get comfortable old man, because you¡¯re an arch-mage, and I¡¯m a magic user with questions!¡± Chapter 172 - The bigger picture. Director Weatherby was sitting in his office, thoroughly displeased with what he was hearing. Leaning back in his high-backed chair, he drummed his fingers on his desk and glared at the man standing on the other side of his desk. He could see the man¡¯s team standing behind him, all of them currently cowering in fear, their heads lowered and their shoulders slouched as if they feared bringing any attention onto themselves. ¡°23 cities. All at once! And no one knew about it beforehand? How is that possible!¡± he roared. His mouth hurled spittle all over his desk as a result of his anger. The man giving the report shivered as the director¡¯s voice shook the room. ¡°From what we¡¯ve been able to gather, this is a coordinated campaign from the Tower of Magic. They say that it is due to the surprising events in Dorchester, sir. It seems that a great many noble houses have approached them, complaining about our claims of prophecy. I spoke with Arch-mage Mathers personally, and he was rather dismissive of our concerns about the secrecy accords governing the management of fate,¡± the man claimed, his tone remaining as submissive as possible in the face of the director¡¯s wrath. Director Weatherby listened closely, trying to pull out the threads that would lead him to understand the Tower of Magic¡¯s greater design. When the man finished his report, the director remained silent, as he was still deep in thought. As the uncomfortable silence became too much for him, the man continued, ¡°We¡¯ve verified the Tower of Magic¡¯s claims. There were reports from numerous Towers of Magic, each having been dealing with complaints and demands for the mages to explain the method behind our practices. From what we can tell, the Tower of Magic is not coming after us¡­ They simply no longer want to be bothered by people who don¡¯t understand the limitations of fate magic.¡± That snapped the director out of his thoughts, and his head whipped up to once again glare at the man. ¡°There are NO limitations to fate magic. If I hear you ever again claim that there are, I will personally see to it that you and your family are stripped of whatever meager titles you have managed to claim, and then I will assign someone the sole responsibility of ensuring you spend the rest of your life suffering the most tragic fate imaginable! You hear me?!?¡± he screamed, his face completely red with rage. The man shuddered at the director¡¯s threat, nodding vigorously and assuring the director that he was simply relaying what the Tower of Magic had said. Unsurprisingly, the meeting ended shortly after that, and Director Weatherby was left alone in his office to contemplate everything he¡¯d heard. He felt his thoughts going over the same questions he¡¯d had since all of this had started. How did such a simple miscalculation cause so many problems? What made this failed prophecy so much more damaging than any of the others? Was it just the scale? Was there a hand steering fate against them? How could so many coincidences be considered anything other than someone¡¯s active manipulation of events? Why was the Matrix of Fate silent on the matter? Could a singular anomaly, in an insignificant city in the middle of nowhere, have anything to do with the kingdom-wide problems that were showing up with alarming regularity? The door to his office swung open and one of his aides strode in with a grim look on her face. ¡°Director, We¡¯ve just received a communique from the burgeoning city of Brauntail. They have canceled their plans to raise a Tower of Fate within their walls. According to them, they no longer see it as a worthwhile investment. There were plenty of courteous words and apologies, but the tenor of the letter aside, they no longer believe we can help guide them toward prosperity,¡± she said while sliding a copy of the letter across the director¡¯s desk. Director Weatherby¡¯s face contorted into a furious scowl. Months of planning and work wasted. Granted, it hadn¡¯t been him who was working on the project, but it still caused his blood to boil in rage. Standing up from his chair and picking up the letter, he quickly scanned it, confirming what his aide had said. Seconds later, his fists crumpled the letter into a ball and with a quick spell, he burned it to ash. His aide stood in silence, her face a mask of patience, waiting for the director to decide how they should deal with this latest setback. With his hands clenched in anger, his mind was consumed with a single, solitary thought. ¡®I will figure out what is happening, find who is responsible for leveraging a minor error into a kingdom-wide debacle, and then I will personally ensure that an entire tower¡¯s worth of fateweavers are dedicated to making them suffer!¡¯ he promised himself. ----- Arch-mage Jennings looked at Nero in surprise for half a second before sighing and slumping his shoulders in defeat. Trying to make the young man understand, he said, ¡°Nero, I don¡¯t mind helping you with your magic when you ask. However, I have a feeling you¡¯re going to be asking about things you aren¡¯t nearly ready to deal with. You have barely covered the basics of elemental magic! Do you really think you¡¯re ready to deal with planar dynamics and observational essence theory?¡± Nero pointed at the old man and yelled, ¡°Hah! You already know what I¡¯m going to ask about. So, since I¡¯m already dealing with it, you¡¯re not affecting shit by talking with me about it. How about instead of telling me what I¡¯m not ready to deal with, you help me figure out what I am dealing with? Sound good?¡± The arch-mage seemed to deflate, then waved a hand as if he were telling Nero to get on with it. Meanwhile, he sank back into the couch, trying to make himself comfortable. Nero¡¯s enthusiasm was obvious, but everyone in the room could see that he was having trouble deciding where to start. While Nero thought that Nick was a wonderful resource to bounce ideas off of, the man was too focused on the application of magic. What Nero needed was someone who understood the theoretical basis for magic, and the arch-mage had proved more than capable in that regard. ¡°First, I¡¯d like you to confirm something for me. How is my ability to see essence flows all that different than what everyone else does? Also, is it merely a result of my messed up stats, or is there something weird with me that gives me this ability?¡± asked Nero, his left leg bouncing in excitement at the prospect of finally getting some answers. Arch-mage Jennings chuckled and replied, ¡°Yes, your ability to ¡®see¡¯ essence flows is the very definition of ¡®unique¡¯. Whether it¡¯s a result of your impossibly large soul stats, or due to your soul being modified during its journey through the multiple planes of existence, I couldn¡¯t tell you. I¡¯m not even sure how I¡¯d go about testing you to find out how you¡¯re doing what you¡¯re doing. You see, most people can sense the ethereal plane, but it¡¯s more a matter of interpretation and inference than actual sight.¡± Nero wanted specifics, so he asked, ¡°How exactly do normal people see¡­ or ¡®sense¡¯ the ether?¡± Arch-mage Jennings replied, ¡°Well, normally we¡¯d say that people can ¡®see¡¯ the ether. However, compared to the way you do it, I¡¯m forced to use a different term. Even high-level mages like myself see the ether as a flowing mass of informational waves that we join and interact with. Through those interactions, we become familiar with them and begin to get a sense of what they represent. Over time, we get a better sense of what is happening and can recognize the various flows and we become better at influencing them. But, you see the flows themselves and can interact with them immediately. The only reason I understand how you¡¯re seeing the ethereal plane is because it is very similar to how some of our most advanced technology interprets the essence flows. For example, I¡¯ve studied the essence knots you described, and with the aid of technology, I¡¯ve actually been able to see them the way you described them. You¡¯re like a walking essence parsing and monitoring array, and a very advanced one at that.¡± Nero nodded, figuring that it must be like everyone is walking around with really poor vision, and relying on equipment to act like a pair of corrective lenses. Perhaps this was his proverbial golden finger that he¡¯d gotten as a transmigrator. He was in a world of people with crappy eyesight, and he was the only one with 20/20 vision. ¡°OK. I get what you¡¯re saying. I¡¯m also guessing that you¡¯re not going to be able to help me much with all the applications and tricks that having this gift will allow me to figure out?¡± he asked. The arch-mage scoffed and replied, ¡°That¡¯s an understatement. Your method of interacting with essence will be completely different from the magical standard. I doubt there is anyone in the kingdom who¡¯d be able to guide you on how to use your gift. You¡¯re just going to have to figure it out on your own. The application of spell forms and magical techniques will functionally work the same way for you as anyone else, but your method of learning will be solely reliant on your own understanding of the ethereal plane.¡± Nero frowned, and said, ¡°You see! When you say stuff like that, it makes me question everything that you¡¯ve been saying. Didn¡¯t you just get through telling me that ¡®guiding¡¯ someone was considered super evil or something? So why would I try and find someone to mentor me? How do you even have teachers? Do you all even hear yourselves? You¡¯re not making any sense.¡± While the arch-mage and Nero were talking, the other three people in the room had remained silent. Even though Nero wasn¡¯t bothered by what Arch-mage Jennings did to the ether, the rest of them were feeling uncomfortable to the point of nausea. Even Nick was starting to feel the effects. The author''s content has been appropriated; report any instances of this story on Amazon. The arch-mage looked over at Nero¡¯s three companions and said, ¡°Why don¡¯t you all leave Nero with me for a while? I promise on my honor to not unduly influence his path.¡± Cathleen seemed to be having an internal debate with herself over whether or not she should force herself to stay and keep an eye on her charge, while Nick didn¡¯t seem to have any reservations about leaving Nero with the arch-mage. Immediately standing up, he picked Vera up by her armpits and bee-lined it out of the room. After a few seconds, Cathleen followed them out, all the while looking over her shoulder as if she weren¡¯t sure she was making the right decision. Nero didn¡¯t really care about them leaving, and he didn¡¯t want to be diverted from his questions by asking about why they were acting so weird. Instead, he remained focused on the arch-mage, his eyes demanding the man answer the question. Arch-mage Jennings waited for them to leave the room, then turned to Nero and said, ¡°You¡¯ve had to have had a very different experience with authority and mentors back in your old world. Here, guiding and teaching are about imparting simple knowledge, not wisdom. There is no limit to what spells someone can show you, or what legends they can recommend you read. However, those lessons should not be an answer to any problem you¡¯re currently facing. If your reason for acquiring knowledge is merely interest, then your teacher has the responsibility to guide you. However, that aid shouldn¡¯t be offered if you ¡®need¡¯ that knowledge.¡± Nero¡¯s eyes narrowed, as he didn¡¯t see how someone could so skillfully make being an asshole sound so noble. The arch-mage saw that Nero still wasn¡¯t getting it, so he tried another approach. ¡°Think about a person¡¯s life from an outsider¡¯s perspective. I¡¯ve outlived a great many people, from their births to their deaths. At any point in time, I could have intervened and altered their paths. In fact, when I was younger, I did just that. However, I also saw the damage I did to their identity by stunting their growth. If I could go back, I¡¯d let them face their trials on their own, let them grow to be more than they were. A guide should only give the tools, they cannot and should not steer the boat. Do you understand?¡± Nero didn¡¯t. But he also no longer wanted to talk about it, so he replied, ¡°Fine. So, what can you tell me about soul magic and why everyone was freaking out when I did it?¡± Caught off guard by the subject change, the arch-mage replied, ¡°Soul magic? Well, that¡¯s a complicated subject. You see, if you remember what I just told you, you¡¯d know that familiarity with an essence flow is required for a mage to be proficient in its use. So, what do you think that implies when it comes to soul magic?¡± Nero replied quickly, ¡°Yeah, I already heard that from Nick. Soul mages are creepy and deal with death and souls and whatnot. What I don¡¯t understand is why he implied that soul magic was a corrupting influence, and could somehow affect my soul by doing it.¡± The arch-mage was again surprised. It seemed Nero was really not in the mood to put up with his usual method of teaching. In fact, Nero seemed as if he were in a hurry. As if he ¡®needed¡¯ his questions answered. This immediately made Jennings hesitant to answer. ¡°Why do you want to know? Is there a particular issue with your soul that you are dealing with?¡± he asked. Nero groaned, annoyed at Jennings'' evasive answer. ¡°I thought you said you¡¯d just answer questions and not be all ¡®teachery¡¯ and crap. Why does everyone in this god-forsaken kingdom avoid answering questions simply and concisely? Shouldn¡¯t a mage like you have perfected a 30-word synopsis on soul magic, including its dangers, and its uses?¡± The arch-mage chuckled at the idea of a subject synopsis being remotely worthwhile. ¡°Nero, why are you in such a rush? By the time you¡¯ve used soul magic enough to have caused a problem with your soul, you¡¯ll be powerful enough to deal with the consequences¡­ well, most likely. Either way, it¡¯s an important lesson that will provide you with a great deal of experience.¡± Nero felt like he¡¯d just been smacked in the face with an ¡®insight¡¯ stick. ¡®This is all about levels! Of course it was. That¡¯s why they¡¯re all so standoffish with direct answers. Lessons learned on their own are better for a person¡¯s growth¡­ probably. But I don¡¯t have time to reinvent the wheel. Wait¡­¡¯ Nero looked at the arch-mage, remembering that the guy was like a thousand years old or something. ¡®OK. So they¡¯re all about the journey, and the destination is immaterial to them. What a stupid way to live their lives,¡¯ he thought sourly. He thought back to his ¡®lessons¡¯ with Specialist Howard, and how the man had shown him the elemental wheel spells, only to then have him endlessly practicing them while continually reminding him to ¡®work on his control¡¯. Everything he¡¯d learned from the man was secondary to the actual lesson the specialist had been trying to teach him. Nero, his face utterly serious, looked the arch-mage in the eye and said, ¡°You guys suck. All of you. If this is your idea of teaching, then I¡¯m sure as hell not going to any school that follows your concept of ¡®education¡¯. Why¡¯d you even bother to give me books with spells in them if you didn¡¯t want me to learn them?¡± The arch-mage smiled, seemingly not offended at all, and replied, ¡°Were any of those spells particularly helpful to you in any of your trials?¡± Nero groaned, realizing that everything he¡¯d learned from the books was only useful in the most abstract of ways. Mostly, everything he¡¯d done, he¡¯d figured out on his own. Even the spells on how to find hidden enemies had more or less been useless. However, the subject matter had helped him develop his technique for finding empty spaces in the ether, and isolating things that interrupted the essence flows around them. It was all helpful, just not directly. ¡°You¡¯re the kind of guy who shoves a kid into the deep end to teach him how to swim, aren¡¯t you?¡± asked Nero accusingly. Arch-mage Jennings replied immediately, ¡°Well, maybe not the deep end, but definitely the pool. I can¡¯t help someone refine their technique without seeing how they swim first, now can I?¡± Nero¡¯s shoulders slumped, and he said, ¡°You know what. I give up. You are the worst mentor ever. I¡¯m going to go on record and say that I want a refund. That favor I said I owed you¡­ you can forget about it.¡± The arch-mage chuckled. ¡°Fair enough. I¡¯m sure from your perspective, you¡¯re probably right. Regardless. I do have some recommendations for where you go from here if you¡¯d like to hear them.¡± Leaning back onto the couch, Nero waved his hand and said, ¡°Sure. Let me hear it. Try not to give any background information or anything that I might be able to understand. I¡¯m sure you wouldn¡¯t want me accidentally figuring something out that I¡¯m not ready for.¡± Ignoring Nero¡¯s mocking tone, the arch-mage said in all seriousness, ¡°You need to think about what kind of man you want to be. As a unique, all your ties have been severed. You can do anything you want. Now, before you make any rash decisions, you must think carefully about what repercussions your decisions will lead to.¡± Nero glared at the man, silently waiting for more. ¡°That¡¯s it?¡± he asked. ¡°Think carefully. That¡¯s your advice. That¡¯s the ¡®straight-talk¡¯ you promised me. Seriously man, if you¡¯re high, or hopped up on painkillers, you can just tell me. I won¡¯t judge you.¡± Rolling his eyes, the arch-mage replied, ¡°Nero, this is serious.¡± For a good ten seconds, they stared at each other in silence, neither backing down from their accusatory stare at each other. Finally, the arch-mage broke and said, ¡°Fine. Perhaps this alone can serve as a lesson for you. If you leave the elites, and back away from the war, what do you think will happen? For one, more soldiers will die as the Dorchester mages haven¡¯t figured out how to pierce the kobald¡¯s technique hiding their forces. Whether or not that will lead to their defeat, I won¡¯t say. However, I will tell you that you¡¯ll have to live with the consequences of not helping them in their time of need. Furthermore, now that you¡¯re a unique, you can no longer head House Walker on your own. You¡¯ll only receive tribute from the house you started. Considering that you currently have no other members of your house, what do you think will happen to Vera? Nick hinted at a solution, but did you listen? Have you decided on who you want to take with you on your future travels? Everyone who joins your retinue will no longer be part of the local power structure. So, are you expecting Nick and Vera to leave their lives behind and join you? Will you leave them here in Dorchester to face the density shift with whatever soldiers manage to survive this conflict with the kobalds?¡± Nero felt his anger cool the longer Jennings talked. The man brought up some seriously good points. But before he could say anything, Jennings continued. ¡°Now, taking into consideration the larger issues, it becomes even more complicated. The city itself has started to talk about you as if you are a budding legend, sent here to help them in their time of need. The nobles are taking advantage of this by propping you up as the hope of Dorchester. When you were a low-level noble, that was fine. But now, as a unique, their plan has backfired and they now actually are relying on you. Their fears about how they¡¯ve treated you will affect their actions toward your companions and your interests. Furthermore, if they decide they can¡¯t count on you, they very well may just abandon the city and blame it on you for failing to uphold your purpose. While that might end up as nothing more than a small blight on your legend, it will most definitely affect how you¡¯re greeted in any city you visit in the long life you have ahead of you,¡± the arch-mage warned. Nero paled, not having considered that the other players in the game also had the option of flipping the proverbial board. Not even pausing for a second to let Nero digest his truth bombs, Arch-mage Jennings continued, ¡°Then on an even larger scale, there are perceptions at play between the Tower of Fate, the nobles of Hennings and the surrounding cities, and the mage within the Tower of Magic. Your actions since you¡¯ve arrived here have completely altered the predictions made by the fateweavers concerning the destruction of Dorchester. As a result, the fateweavers have taken action against you, tipping the scales of fate to try and have you killed. Yes, it¡¯s been confirmed that the Tower of Fate itself helped arrange for the city-lord¡¯s daughter and consort to try and have you assassinated in the wilds along with your companions. If you end up successfully saving Dorchester, then it weakens their position immensely. The nobles of the surrounding regions have spent years believing Dorchester would fall in the coming years, and you have now changed everything, throwing their carefully laid plans into chaos. While they blame the Tower of Fate, the Tower of Fate blames you. Meanwhile, the mage council, at my behest, has been using this situation to weaken the Tower of Fate¡¯s influence among the nobility in the hopes of eventually leading to their disbandment across the entirety of the kingdom. As our two towers have been at odds for hundreds of years.¡± Nero wilted into the couch cushions, the pressure of concerns he¡¯d had no idea about nearly pushing his head into his chest and making his neck disappear. Mercilessly, the arch-mage went on to say, ¡°So, in short, your actions and decisions have ramifications and repercussions far beyond what you¡¯ve probably been considering. And all of that is just one chain of causality limited to your decision to remain here in Dorchester. Now that you know, do you feel particularly ¡®guided¡¯ toward any particular path? Would you like me to list some other options for you, along with their respective repercussions? Or perhaps you¡¯d like the freedom to choose your path on your own, without the weight of matters outside of your immediate control affecting your thoughts.¡± Nero¡¯s eyes rose to meet Jennings¡¯, and he muttered, ¡°Worst. Mentor. Ever.¡± Chapter 173 - The problem with subtlety. When Victoria Blackwood became aware of Lord Walker¡¯s recent change in status, she¡¯d gone out of her way to ensure that she was one of the nobles invited to the reception for the Royal Academy¡¯s Evaluation Team. Luckily, despite House Blackwood¡¯s recent loss of reputation, she had been able to leverage what little was left to ensure her a place at the proverbial table. After what her father had done, she¡¯d worried that House Blackwood would fall to the status of mid-nobility during the upcoming quarterly review. She¡¯d even planned for it by accepting the harsh terms from Vera Salvatore-Verena. Yet, she believed that by tying her house to House Walker, those losses would, over time, be reversed. She had been counting on the long game. She¡¯d recently taken a significant loss to ensure that her house was officially in business with House Walker, and therefore be eligible to take advantage of the exploits he¡¯d registered. However, that plan may have now ended up costing House Blackwood more than it could presently bear. For that reason, and that reason alone, she had gone to the reception¡­ hoping to find an opportunity to speak with the evaluators. She needed to know how Lord Walker¡¯s change in status would affect his interests in Dorchester. From what little she''d heard about uniques, she knew that they were outside of the local power structure. But, before she could find the right time to broach the subject, everything had gone wrong. In front of the entirety of Dorchester¡¯s nobility, the high-academic was brought up on charges and Lord Walker¡¯s evaluation was put on hold. Then, only a few hours later, the entire evaluation team was sent back to Hennings with their tails between their legs, and a new team was brought in. One whose leader seemed suspiciously supportive of Lord Walker before he¡¯d even had a chance to meet with him. It was madness. Yet, it was also evidence of someone playing a very deep game. A game that was happening on a level she hadn¡¯t even considered possible for a city like Dorchester. Even though she had zero evidence to support her conclusions, she couldn¡¯t stop herself from shivering at the thought that all of this was playing out exactly as Vera Salvatore-Verena had expected. It was more than impressive, the way Lord Walker distracted and then dealt with the evaluation team. Only to then publicly cede his authority to Lady Verena. Victoria could only assume that it was all part of some elaborate and convoluted plan. Lady Verena must have known about Lord Walker¡¯s abilities, somehow convinced him to hide them, and then leveraged those abilities to raise his status to nobility and acquire what was rapidly becoming the city¡¯s largest shipping empire. As if that weren¡¯t enough, the woman had then actually tricked her into tying her house to Lord Walker¡¯s in a one-sided, iron-clad, long-term contract. She was brought out of her thoughts as her office door was pushed open with some force, and she watched as her aide came scurrying into the room. Not bothering to waste time with greetings, she asked, ¡°What did you manage to find out?¡± ¡°My lord, after a quick but exhaustive search of the relevant laws, we¡¯ve managed to piece together what will most likely happen to House Walker¡¯s interests,¡± said the aide. Seeing the man¡¯s grim face, she wasn''t expecting good news. Nevertheless, she needed to hear it. ¡°Go on,¡± she said, her calm facade masking her inner turmoil. ¡°From what we can tell, unique citizens are indeed not allowed to own any personal interests within a city. However, they can have a branch house in whatever city they want. Unfortunately, House Walker only has one member, namely the young Lord Walker. As such, Dorchester''s House Walker will be expunged, and House Walker will become his personal house, unaffiliated with any city. Therefore, he¡¯ll have to either sell off all of his local interests or transfer them to whatever house decides to become a branch of his personal House,¡± the aide explained, trying to stick to the facts and not focus on the dire repercussions his findings implied. Sitting at her desk, she drummed her fingers on the arm of her chair in thought. The silence in the room hung heavy in the air. The sweat on the aide''s brow was a testament to the tension in the room. Abruptly, Victoria Blackwood started thinking out loud. ¡°So, most likely Vera Salvatore-Verena will formally tie her house to the personal House of Walker and represent his interests here in Dorchester. I very much doubt she¡¯d bother buying him out, and I don¡¯t see the young lord denying her the reward she has so skillfully arranged for herself. Even worse for us, as the transfer of ownership will fall under the kingdom¡¯s charter, we will no longer be tied to House Walker, we¡¯ll instead be in a business relationship with House Verena. Therefore, we won¡¯t be able to take advantage of the exploits, or recoup the losses we¡¯d accepted in order to receive them.¡± The aide said nothing, as he and his team had already come to that same unfortunate conclusion. What had been a strategic loss had now turned into a definitive one. Balling her fists in anger, Victoria Blackwood¡¯s eyes narrowed as she hissed, ¡°This scheme must have been in the works for weeks, and I walked right into it. Very well Lady Verena. House Blackwood will not forget this slight.¡± Yet, despite her anger at having been so thoroughly out-played, she couldn¡¯t help but be awed by Vera Salvatore-Verena¡¯s mind-bogglingly deep game. ----- After the arch-mage had verbally lambasted Nero with the ugly truths he¡¯d been either unaware of or had actively been ignoring, he had retired to his room and told everyone that he was going to bed. However, that was not actually what he ended up doing. Instead, while hiding behind his locked door, he''d pulled out everything the arch-mage had given him from both his personal space and his satchel. Now having a better idea as to how the people of this world thought about knowledge, he''d decided that he had better catch up on what he¡¯d been missing. So, for the remainder of the afternoon and well into the night, he¡¯d been reviewing the books and tomes in his bag, and trying to remember the exact circumstances around how and when he¡¯d gotten them. From there, he''d tried to alter his way of thinking to emulate Arch-mage Jennings, and try and figure out what the old man had been trying to subtly tell him. Perhaps it was due to his improved stats, or his personal development, but eventually, he''d come to several startling conclusions. This tale has been pilfered from Royal Road. If found on Amazon, kindly file a report. The first of which was that the arch-mage, much like Nick, was a nerd. Therefore, he tended to over-explain whatever point he was trying to make. The arch-mage had given Nero several books on basic magic and the planes. With the benefit of his new perspective, Nero now knew they were given to him so that he could learn about the ether. That¡¯s it. Instead of having given him books on actual casting, he¡¯d given him theory books on how the essence flows in the ethereal plane worked, and the myriad of ways it could be interacted with. Nero even took advantage of the fact that he was back in Dorchester and utilized the link he¡¯d been ignoring, looking up whatever public information he could find on how to cast magic. When he took the time to compare the available beginner texts on magic with the books he¡¯d been given by the arch-mage, he¡¯d nearly started breaking the room''s furniture in a temper tantrum. Next, Jennings had gone out of his way to obscure the fact that he wanted Nero to understand how monsters and beasts could form from the influence of other planes. Now, in retrospect, he could see that it was all just a big hint that foreign invaders from another plane would be able to take advantage of the density shift to more easily connect with their homeland. The bastard had probably known about the kobalds since he¡¯d gotten here. At the very least, Nero was positive that the man must have suspected something. Then, to add insult to injury, the books on being a hunter were barely about hunting. In reality, they were specialized texts on complicated theories covering the subject of essence in the wild. The few spells and techniques that dealt with hidden enemies had entire sections which at the time he¡¯d ignored. Of course, he now realized the books were merely meant as a hint that there were many ways to ¡®hide¡¯ in the wilds. While he couldn''t be entirely sure what exactly the arch-mage had been trying to tell him, he was now positive that the man had known about the upcoming assassination, and he had been trying to prepare him to face it. As a man who liked to be in control of his destiny, the fact that the arch-mage was playing stupid games with his life, not to mention the lives of the people in Dorchester, was almost enough for Nero to go through with some of his planned countermeasures against the old man. However, knowing that the worst he¡¯d be able to do would amount to nothing more serious than giving the arch-mage a headache, Nero put off any ideas about retribution and focused on the bigger picture. After all, the man had been trying to help. Albeit he did it in the dumbest possible fashion, which as far as Nero could tell was how everything was done here in the kingdom of ¡®Oh-god-I¡¯m-fucked¡¯ Oglivarch. As the night grew darker, and his conclusions became more cynical, Nero felt like the walls were pressing down on him. Thinking back to everything the old man had alluded to, Nero realized that being in the middle of a bunch of plotting assholes was a lot less fun than it looked like when he was reading about them. However, at that thought, Nero had a profound realization. He didn¡¯t actually have to care. ¡®So what? A bunch of nobles and big-shots are plotting and planning against each other and me. Is there even anything I can do about it? Probably. But, am I actually going to do anything about it? Probably not,¡¯ he said to himself, trying to be as brutally honest with himself as possible. Setting down the book on essence identity interaction between the planes, Nero leaned back in his chair and looked up at the ceiling in thought. Whenever he''d seen a main character going through a personal crisis where he''d found out about the larger concerns affecting his life, Nero''d always wanted to reach into the story and smack the bitch. Now that he was the target of numerous plots and conspiracies, he refused to make the same mistakes they did. Instead, he would continue to do whatever he felt like and ride the wave of adventure to wherever it took him. He would keep his focus on the little slice of the world he had control over, and ignore everything and everyone else until they did something that merited a response. If he tried to accept responsibility for anything more than that, he¡¯d end up driving himself crazy. After coming to the simple decision to just stop worrying about it. He figured that he might as well try and get some sleep, retiring to his bed. Laying under the covers, staring up at the ceiling, he closed his eyes and thought to himself, ¡®Don¡¯t let the wise, yet stupid, old man get in your head. Stick to the fortune cookie wisdom that has gotten you this far. Keep it simple stupid.¡¯ Sleep came without any problems, and his dreams brought him images of massive mountains filled with kobald civilizations. He saw massive towers built with condensed earth and stone, each of which was filled to the brim with kobald clans living in communal bliss. There were red skies and ash as far as the eye could see. And in the open plains, there were farms of all kinds filled to the brim with unrecognizable plants. Mingled throughout the ether, there was a sense of desire for more. It was omnipresent, and he could feel the kobald''s desire to spread out across all the planes and reshape them into what they considered the proper image. It was like there was a primal directive written directly into their identity. A universal law that meant to be a kobald was to go forth and multiply. To spread their plane across the dimensions, increasing their influence until all of reality was theirs. Every single thing they did, from their dances around the fire to the time they spent in the mating huts, all of it was for the glory of their god, the dragon - Nero shot up into a sitting position on his bed. While covered in sweat, he raised a hand to his head and winced in pain. Groaning, he dragged himself to the bathroom and took a shower. ¡®That¡¯s what you get for spending hours reading about hostile forces coming in and rewriting reality. Pure, undiluted nightmare fuel,¡¯ he thought to himself. When he was finished, he checked the world¡¯s mental clock and realized it was a little after 9 am. He knew that everyone would probably already be up. Or more likely, they¡¯d all have been waiting for him for hours, as their entire culture was inherently designed to piss him off. Grumbling to himself about the commonplace idiocy running rampant all around him, he made his way to the main living area in this wing of the estate. Exiting the hallway, he was proven right when he saw Nick, Vera, Cathleen, and Rose all sitting around and enjoying their morning seemingly without a care in the world. However, he was surprised to see a fifth person added to their group. It was a man dressed like the academic people, complete with a stupid-looking essence light stuck to his hat. The man hopped to his feet the moment he saw Nero turning the corner. While Nero was suffering from his typical early morning brain deficiency due to not yet having gotten his morning coffee, the man seemed awake enough for the both of them. With a smile wide enough to reach his ears, the man rushed up and bowed deeply, saying, ¡°Lord Nero Walker, it is a great honor to meet you. On behalf of the Royal Academy of Hennings, I formally apologize for that wretched woman you met yesterday and promise to perform my duties as your personal evaluator to the utmost of my abilities. If you have any questions, any questions at all, please don¡¯t hesitate to ask. I promise you that neither I, nor my team, will interfere with your path, and merely chronicle your abilities for the official record. While I¡¯m here, if there is anything that you require, I¡¯ll be more than happy to take care of it.¡± Nero¡¯s half-lidded eyes stared at the man, his face showing nothing but utter ambivalence. Leaning a little to the left so that he could see past the uncomfortably close man, Nero looked at his group of comrades and asked, ¡°Who¡¯s this? And why is talking to me before I¡¯ve had any coffee?¡± While Cathleen started chuckling in that amused way she did whenever Nero acted like an idiot, Nick and Vera both looked at Nero accusingly. However, Rose, bless her heart, started pouring Nero a cup of that black gold he loved so much. The man didn¡¯t give anyone a chance to speak for him, as he went right on talking. ¡°My apologies, Lord Walker. My name is Academian Quincy. I¡¯m leading the evaluation team now that High-Academic Nurling has been recalled. Here, let me get you that cup of coffee,¡± he said, then turned around only to see Rose walking up with Nero¡¯s cup of coffee in her hand. Seeing that Rose had already procured Nero his coffee, his shoulders slumped a little and he dejectedly said, ¡°Oh, she¡¯s already gotten it for you.¡± Nero took the cup of steaming coffee with a gentle smile on his face, meeting Rose¡¯s eyes he said with total sincerity, ¡°Thanks, babe. I mean Rose. Thanks, Rose.¡± After his slip-up, Nero decided to immediately pretend that the past ten seconds hadn¡¯t happened. Completely ignoring Academian Quincy and Rose, he walked past them to join the rest of the group at the couches, while he started sipping his coffee and letting the warmth wake up his brain from its lethargy. Behind him, Academian Quincy seemed to bounce back from the awkward moment he¡¯d just had. With a chipper tone, he asked, ¡°So, Lord Walker, whenever you¡¯re ready, we can go over how you want to handle your evaluation, your allocation and transfer of assets, the formalization of your personal house, your house words, and colors¡­ which I happen to have some ideas on, then we can decide which cities you want to visit after your trip to Hennings, and then we can-¡± Nero stopped mid-step and turned to look at the man with a face of utter disdain while holding up his finger to his mouth and then loudly ¡®shushed¡¯ the man. Seeing the man immediately stop talking and reel back in surprise, Nero offered the man an encouraging nod and a smile then turned around to take his place on one of the couches. Besides Cathleen, Nick was the only one who seemed to be enjoying Nero¡¯s antics. His tone slightly mocking, he said, ¡°Well, great Lord Walker, do you want to sit here in silence for a while, or are you willing to start your day?¡± Nero didn¡¯t rise to the man¡¯s bait, and instead said, ¡°OK. So last night I did some soul-searching, and I''ve made a few decisions. But before we get into any of that, I first want breakfast. After that, we can talk. Until then, you can all go about your business.¡± After saying his piece, Nero ignored everyone and reached into his personal space to pull out one of the plates he¡¯d stolen from the keep. The large pile of finger sandwiches and tiny meat skewers immediately filled the room with the wonderful smell of fancy spices. While Vera looked on in disapproval, Nero dug in. Meanwhile, Academian Quincy took a seat on one of the couches and watched Nero eat with a huge smile on his face. The man was transfixed to see Nero¡¯s antics in person, and his eyes sparkled as if he were watching his hero performing the signature technique that had made him famous. The rest of the room gradually returned to whatever they had been talking about before Nero arrived, but Nero was too focused on his meal to pay much attention to whatever it was that they were saying. He''d deal with everything after he''d finished his meal. Chapter 174 - Youve probably got mail. Mike leaned back against the earthen wall, taking a moment to try and regain his mental equilibrium. Sliding down the wall, he took a seat and closed his eyes. The overwhelming stench of dirt and blood was enough to make him want to avoid breathing through his nose. He wasn¡¯t sure if it was due to overcycling his center or just due to the constant activity, but everything ached. Tipping his head forward, he opened his eyes to stare blankly at the ground between his legs. For some reason, he found himself focusing on the few stubborn bits of green that refused to die. ¡®Good for you. Your tenacity is admirable,¡¯ he silently complimented them, feeling a sense of kinship with the greenery that was clinging to life in these harsh conditions. Raising his head, he looked around to see the rest of his unit taking advantage of the break. Each of them looked terrible. He could tell that some of them were still carrying wounds, not having the energy to go and find a healer. Everyone was covered in grime, as nobody felt like wasting the effort to cast a cleaning spell. He reached out to check his internal clock and realized that it was already 2600. Frowning, he tried to remember how many days they¡¯d been fighting. Two, or maybe three? Right as he was about to do a mental deep-dive to try and figure out how long he¡¯d been in the field, he heard the sound of a generator failing. Raising his head, he looked around to figure out where the hole in their line would appear. ¡°Everyone up! Move it!¡± yelled some captain Mike didn¡¯t recognize. Groaning, he forced himself to his feet. ¡®Hells be damned lizards couldn¡¯t give me five minutes to catch my breath!¡¯ he complained sourly. Before he knew it, he and the rest of his unit were back in the thick of it. They were tasked with providing cover for mages who were manually maintaining a portion of the shield while the engineering corps brought in a new generator. It was a familiar duty, and he and his unit were getting good at it. As he forced a kobald¡¯s spearhead into the ground with his shield, he opened it up from hip to shoulder with his sword. His sword glowed faintly with a red sheen as it sliced through the air. It was almost effortless now to imbue his blade with his ability. If there was any good news resulting from all this combat, it was that he could feel his ability to cut improving drastically with all the stress he¡¯d been under. Hopefully, when all this was over, and he finally got the chance to sit down and meditate, he¡¯d probably gain at least a few points in experience too. ¡®Don¡¯t think about it. Focus on the fight,¡¯ he reminded himself. Tilting his head to the side, he let a kobald¡¯s spear slip past him. Before the little bastard could retract it, Mike stepped forward and lifted it up by the haft with his shield. Aiming low, which was difficult considering how short the kobald was, he jammed his sword into its leg, nearly severing it. Quickly stepping back and rejoining the line, he watched coldly as the kobald stumbled back and tried to decide whether or not to run. He¡¯d found that injuring them was preferable to killing them. Whenever he killed one, there was always another one just waiting to replace it. However, if he only scared them with a flesh wound, they¡¯d stand there stupidly, giving him a few seconds of peace before they eventually succumbed to whatever urge was pushing them forward. As expected, the kobald shook his head, then snarled and stumbled forward on his ruined leg, seemingly eager to die for its cause. Mike obliged and quickly set it off to its destined afterlife. They never stopped. They never ran. They were relentless. Feeling his sword getting heavier by the minute, he panted heavily as he hacked into the next kobald that threw itself at him. Behind him, he heard a loud shout, ¡°Brace!¡± Familiar with what was coming, he dropped to a knee and hid behind his shield. Closing his eyes to avoid being blinded, he felt the air above him ignite. Even through his eyelids, the light was enough to make him flinch and cower. The same voice called out, ¡°Recover!¡± Smoothly rising to his feet, he looked out to a changed battlefield. The after-effects of the spell cannons never ceased to amaze him. Yes, it was a shame they didn¡¯t have enough to cover the entire battlefield. The area in front of their lines had been transformed into a field filled to the brim with chunked kobalds. When he¡¯d first seen the cannons in action, he hadn¡¯t bothered to look away. As a result, the sight of the flame web charges expanding as they flew through the air was now burned into his memory. ¡®Calling them an effective mob deterrent is the most absurd understatement I¡¯ve ever heard,¡¯ he thought to himself with a dark chuckle. Looking over his shoulder, he watched as the mages and the cannoneers rolled the spell cannon away to their next firing position. Now that he had a good view of the battlefield, he could see how far they¡¯d come. They¡¯d been pushing the kobalds back further and further into the mountain. Off in the distance, he could see Dorchester, it was now much farther away than it had been when all of this madness began. Turning back to look at the killing fields, he could see burning trees and large groups of kobalds moving around in the distance. With the gradient height of the mountain, he couldn¡¯t see how far they still had to go before they forced them back into the tunnels, but he couldn¡¯t imagine it being much further. If it was, whoever was running this shit show had better rotate them out for fresh troops. He could feel everyone around him was just as tired as he was, if not more so. Movement to his right caught his attention, and he looked over to see a group of mages cutting out sheets of earth to compress and form into a fresh set of bunker walls. It would seem the front lines were moving forward once again. Unsurprisingly, he heard someone shout, ¡°Twenty paces forward!¡± With a sigh, he rolled his shoulders and stepped over the kobald corpse on the ground in front of him. ¡ª-- Nero felt the forced conversation going on all around him, but he pretended not to. After all, it wasn¡¯t his fault that they refused to get up a decent hour. Breakfast was the most important meal of the day, and he would be damned if he didn¡¯t let himself enjoy it. But, like all things he avoided, eventually, he was forced to deal with it. The moment he set down his fork, Vera¡¯s tone completely changed to business mode and she asked, ¡°So, Nero, are you ready to start your day now?¡± Nero looked up to see everyone staring at him with undisguised interest. Frowning in annoyance, he couldn¡¯t help but feel like recent circumstances had somehow cast him into a leadership position despite all of his protests. It wasn¡¯t like he didn¡¯t know why it was happening. Random, stupid events kept occurring, and all of them were somehow centered around him. Whether it was someone trying to kill him, someone trying to reward him for surviving someone trying to kill him, or some other ridiculous noble bullshit, all of their current concerns revolved around him. The narrative has been illicitly obtained; should you discover it on Amazon, report the violation. Sitting up a little straighter than normal, Nero tried to look as serious as possible. ¡°I get that there are a great many things that I¡¯ve been avoiding. Vera¡¯s been running all the business stuff. Nick¡¯s been kind enough to follow me around as I¡¯ve been off fulfilling whatever dumbass trials the nobles forced me to take. Cathleen, I know you¡¯re only here to help me grow or whatever, but I¡¯m sure I haven¡¯t been making it easy on you either,¡± he said to each of them, then turned to Rose and added, ¡°You, I¡¯m guessing are here to get out of the general¡¯s pocket and avoid whatever fate you think I have planned for him.¡± Nero stifled a chuckle as Rose winced. Considering how little he actually knew about her, he was happy to see his guess was correct. Turning to address the academian, Nero said, ¡°I¡¯m not really sure exactly what the evaluation will entail, but I don¡¯t really mind you sticking around. Are you always going to be the one assigned here? Or are you guys going to be working in shifts or something? And do I have to worry about you or the other evaluators spreading secrets to my enemies or anything?¡± Nero was too tired to be discrete with his accusations, and he was betting on a guy like Quincy being unable to lie believably when asked directly if he was trustworthy. From what little Nero had seen, the man was like an over-excited teenager in the body of a middle-aged accountant. Either way, how the man answered the question would tell Nero all he needed to know. Academian Quincy¡¯s face turned serious, or as close an attempt at looking serious as he could reasonably pull off, and he said, ¡°Lord Walker, I assure you, we have no interest in aiding your enemies. Besides, as a unique, you will no longer be a threat to the local nobility. Regardless, for the most part, I¡¯ll be joining you and your companions for the time being. Occasionally, I¡¯ll have to leave and meet with my team who should be busy with various other tasks associated with your evaluation. You can just pretend I¡¯m not here, and go about your business. I promise not to relay anything to anyone that might cause you any problems.¡± Nero gave the man a dead-pan stare, not believing for a second half the things the man was claiming. The only question was, did Quincy actually believe that load of bullshit due to ignorance, or was he just that incredible of a liar. Considering Nero wouldn¡¯t be covering any particularly sensitive topics at the moment, he figured it didn¡¯t matter much. Nero looked Quincy in the eye and said, ¡°Uh-huh. Well, welcome aboard, I guess.¡± Turning back to the people who actually mattered, Nero said, ¡°I know there are a bunch of decisions you¡¯ve been waiting for me to make. But before all that, how do we know that I¡¯m actually going to be confirmed as a unique? Shouldn¡¯t all of this still be hypothetical?¡± Academian Quincy immediately answered, seemingly unable to play the silent observer like he promised. ¡°Actually, based on all the testimony and memory engrams included in the initial filing for your change of citizenship level, I can reasonably say that your ascension to unique is assured.¡± Giving the man the side-eye, Nero asked, ¡°So, I should start filling out all the paperwork and crap now? Before I even formally get the title, or whatever I get for becoming a unique?¡± Nodding a little too enthusiastically, Academian Quincy replied, ¡°Absolutely! I¡¯ve already assigned two scholars to compile the forms you¡¯ll need to take up your new position. I¡¯ve also taken the liberty of signing off on the creation of your personal house and started the process of your adherent¡¯s licensing.¡± Nero wasn¡¯t sure what Quincy was talking about, but it sounded important. And since he was trying to be serious Nero at the moment, he just replied, ¡°Good. Well done.¡± Once again turning away from the man, Nero looked at Vera and said, ¡°Nick mentioned your house taking over my assets and becoming a branch house for House Walker. Is that the best way to handle this?¡± Vera stiffened, and replied woodenly, ¡°Nero, however you choose to handle the situation is up to you. I won¡¯t say any more on the subject.¡± Narrowing his eyes, he replied, ¡°I get it. You don¡¯t want to influence my decision or anything. But seriously, I don¡¯t have the relevant background to know how any of this works. So guide me, woman! Or at the very least, list my options so I can make an informed choice.¡± Vera grimaced as if she¡¯d bit into a particularly sour lemon. ¡°I understand your point. However, there is a conflict of interest here. I don¡¯t feel comfortable presenting you with your options when I stand to benefit from them so massively. I will say that you could always avail yourself of the Center. The wayfinders there would be more than happy to help you through this difficult time of your life.¡± Everyone in the room seemed to nod along with Vera¡¯s suggestion as if it were the most reasonable way for Nero to proceed. However, Nero wasn¡¯t having it. ¡°Look. I don¡¯t trust them. I trust you. You¡¯re my wayfinder. If you¡¯re going to screw me over, then congrats on your payday. Do you want your house to buy me out of my interest in Precision shipping and all the other places I own? If so, then that¡¯s fine with me. I don¡¯t even know what all House Walker owns at the moment. If you recall, you¡¯ve been the one handling all of that. So, please, with a cherry on top, advise me. Just tell me the best option for me to get this over with.¡± Cathleen chuckled and nodded as if Nero had said something extremely profound. While Vera thought over how she wanted to handle Nero¡¯s request, Nick decided to interject, ¡°Nero, I¡¯m probably the only person here who understands where you¡¯re coming from. Try not to take it personally. She¡¯s just having trouble dealing with the fact that you don¡¯t know anything, and you absolutely don¡¯t care enough to learn.¡± Vera shot Nick a look that promised future retribution, and Nick just shrugged with a smile at her glare. He remained completely unapologetic. Turning back to Nero, Vera said, ¡°Well, if you really want my opinion, I suppose I could consider it my last act as the proxy to House Walker. In fact, since you¡¯ve never actually signed the contract for my services, in a way, I¡¯ve never actually been the proxy to House Walker.¡± She paused at that, and crinkled her face as if she were trying to figure out a particular complicated math problem. Nick asked, ¡°Vera, dear, what do you mean?¡± Vera came out of her thoughts and looked over at Nick. ¡°Well, Nero doesn¡¯t do any of the house¡¯s paperwork. I figured he¡¯d get around to it eventually, but I suppose it doesn¡¯t matter now. Wait¡­¡± she paused, then turned to look at Nero with the most serious expression he¡¯d ever seen on her face. Her tone was intense as she said, ¡°Before you do anything else, you need to go through the paperwork I¡¯ve sent you through your link. Start at the beginning and fill out each page in order.¡± Nero widened his eyes at how serious she was being. ¡°OK. But why?¡± Nick chimed in, asking, ¡°What do you mean Nero hasn¡¯t filled out any paperwork? What has he missed?¡± Vera glanced briefly at Academian Quincy, before looking at Nick and replying, ¡°Nothing serious. He just has a few outstanding forms to fill out since he¡¯s been off fighting in the wilds. Before we deal with any of the issues associated with him becoming a unique, he should probably deal with them first.¡± Vera then turned to stare at Nero, forcing him to feel a little uncomfortable as she wasn¡¯t saying anything. A few seconds of silence passed before Nero noticed Vera starting to frown. ¡°You mean I should deal with that stuff now? I thought we were discussing how I¡¯m going to deal with the house problems,¡± he said, looking at her with confusion. Vera seemed to come to some kind of realization, then asked, ¡°Nero, have you lost your link?¡± Nero replied quickly, ¡°No. Why?¡± Vera¡¯s frown returned. ¡°Then why aren¡¯t you answering your pings?¡± she asked. Nero shrugged, and said, ¡°Oh, I turned all that stuff off. If you focus on the settings menu, you can get it to pretty much ignore everything. I¡¯m pretty sure after all my tweaking, my link will even let me sleep through Captain Angelton overriding my privacy settings.¡± Everyone in the room looked at Nero with varying levels of shock. Nick asked, ¡°You changed the link¡¯s primary operating functions? How? Why?¡± Nero looked at them all in confusion, and replied, ¡°What¡¯s the big deal? You¡¯re the one that taught me that all I have to do is think at it. If you focus on the link, you can get a feel for what it is trying to do, and then all you have to do is convince it to not do it anymore. I did it a while ago when I was screwing with it in my tent when I didn¡¯t feel like reading. I guess I kind of forgot about it after that. I can still send and receive pings if I actively connect with it, so nothing¡¯s really changed. I¡¯m just not connected to it at the moment.¡± Nick shook his head in exasperation. ¡°Nero, that is very illegal. It¡¯s also something you shouldn¡¯t be able to do.¡± Vera, however, had a very different concern. ¡°Have you not been reading any of your messages? What about all the filings that I sent you? You haven¡¯t been ignoring those too, have you?¡± Nero, not caring all that much, replied, ¡°Last time I checked, I had like over 400 pings waiting for me. I sure as shit wasn¡¯t going to go through all of them, one by one. After a certain point, I just stopped looking at it.¡± Everyone leaned back in stunned silence, including Academian Quincy and Cathleen. It was inconceivable to them that Nero could be so deliberately irresponsible. Seeing how they were reacting, he said, ¡°What? I¡¯ll get to them eventually. You should have seen my mailbox back home. I had like 10000 emails I¡¯d never bothered opening. I think keeping it under 1000 is pretty good if you ask me.¡± Vera hopped to her feet and immediately rushed out of the room. Nero watched her leave with a stunned look on his face. ¡®Where the hell is she going in such a hurry?¡¯ he wondered. Nick¡¯s voice brought his attention back to the group. ¡°Nero, a lot of what you¡¯ve been ignoring were probably important documents covering everything from the acquisition of your numerous assets to the legal consequences of your various run-ins with the Tower of Law. To put it simply, this is not good.¡± Nero felt like he¡¯d just found out that he¡¯d be receiving a fine for ignoring a jury summons or something. ¡°OK. But, it hasn¡¯t really been all that long. I can just go through it now. What¡¯s the big deal?¡± he asked. Vera rushed back into the room and presented Nero with a piece of paper. Her tone was full of fury, as she demanded, ¡°Nero, read this, then sign it.¡± Nero, still confused, started skimming the form she¡¯d given him. Looking up at her, he said, ¡°This is a form stating that you¡¯re to be my legal proxy. Didn¡¯t you just get through telling me that you can¡¯t be my proxy anymore?¡± Vera, through gritted teeth, replied, ¡°I can¡¯t be the head of House Walker¡¯s proxy, as the Dorchester House of Walker will soon no longer exist. I can however be the personal proxy to Lord Nero Walker, the unique. As you haven¡¯t gone through any of the incredibly important forms you¡¯ve received, this form will allow me to deal with them on your behalf.¡± Academian Quincy butted in. ¡°Excuse me, but do you realize what she just gave you? You can¡¯t sign that! You¡¯d be putting her in charge of your entire life!¡± he shouted at Nero, then turned to Vera and demanded, ¡°What game are you playing at? You think I¡¯ll just stand here and let you co-opt a unique without doing anything!¡± To say Nero was shocked would be an understatement. The Quincy he¡¯d come to know had completely changed. The Academian Quincy in front of him now was a totally different person. He was standing tall, veritably bursting with authority and presence. The difference between who Nero had thought the man was and who he actually was shocked him to his core. Rarely had ever been so wrong about a person¡¯s personality. Vera met Quincy¡¯s stare, both of them now standing on opposing sides with Nero in the middle, still seated on a couch. Her tone was cutting, as she replied, ¡°I¡¯m trying to deal with the things he refuses to acknowledge! Do you have any idea what kind of damage he¡¯s opened our business¡¯ and investments up to? With those contracts sitting unsigned, who knows what could be happening at this very moment? We need to get those forms filled out and signed immediately!¡± Nero shrunk into the couch, feeling like he was a child having his parents arguing over him. ¡®I probably should have checked my mail,¡¯ he thought sourly. Chapter 175 - This is how its gonna be. Lord Mason Quincy hurriedly made his way through the halls of the massive teleportation hall in Hennings. Aside from some hidden military and royal astra-platforms, this was the one location where all the inter-city teleportations happened. As Hennings was the capital of the kingdom, it was understandably rather large. He knew he was running late, but the meeting he¡¯d just come from had required his presence. Everyone involved preferred their clandestine plans to be gone over in person, regardless of how pointless it had been. His frustration was growing, as the teleportation hall was surprisingly busy, and if it weren¡¯t for the directions being provided by his link, he¡¯d probably end up lost in this confusing labyrinth. It was understandable as he hadn¡¯t been here in years. Every time he was forced to nod in greeting to some noble he knew, precious seconds were wasted. He could feel his anger rising when he considered how much wealth was currently being wasted by these petty nobles abusing their privalages to teleport back and forth between their cities and the capital. When he finally found the preparation room his team was assigned, he tossed one last disgusted look at the herds of nobles clogging up the hallways with their arrogance. ¡®Useless wastes of essence every one of them. Spending their families¡¯ wealth like water, while wasting their lives on politics and the illusion of power. Our ancestors would be ashamed if they could see Hennings now,¡¯ he thought to himself before turning away and entering the room. The moment he walked in, he saw his 6 member team perk up and rush over to him. Mage-adept Idrius was the first to speak, as she was his second in command and had been with him the longest. ¡°Lord Quincy, we were worried you wouldn¡¯t make it. Our teleportation is scheduled for platform 23 in 11 minutes,¡± she said, her voice calm and collected. Lord Quincy replied quickly without apologizing, ¡°It was unavoidable.¡± He ran his eyes across his team, making sure that they all looked ready for what was coming. Seeing them all returning his stare with carefully moderated enthusiasm and discipline, he nodded in appreciation. Straightening up, he squared his shoulders and said, ¡°As you all know, a lot of favors and political capital were spent to get us all here. Some of you have been following the Walker¡¯s legend since the beginning. Others, not as long. But we¡¯re all aware of what¡¯s at stake. The Walker needs our help, and we¡¯re going to give it. We are to be the removers of obstacles on his path, and together, we shall follow him to greatness.¡± Quincy could see their resolve strengthening, their determination to succeed in their mission settling into their very identities. ¡°From now on, my title of Lord is to be set aside. I will simply be Academian Quincy. Furthermore, you are all now nothing more than scholars. We are not mages, and will not have any association with the Tower of Magic in any way. Our previous mission to infiltrate the Royal Academy is no longer relevant. We are now dedicated solely to the preservation and rise of the Walker.¡± Scholar Idrius asked, ¡°Has the paperwork been taken care of?¡± Nodding quickly, he replied, ¡°Yes, it¡¯s all been handled by our knights still in the Tower. As far as the Tower of Magic is concerned, we all left and joined the academy and the records of our continued association with the Tower have been deleted. Aside from a few unverifiable rumors, there is no longer any trace of our assignment. We¡¯re now on our own.¡± One of the team members asked, ¡°Did Erik and the others have anything useful to add?¡± Academian Quincy snorted and replied, ¡°Nothing of importance. Other than reminding me to include them in the dedicated scry-link, he and the council mosty wanted to waste their time arguing about the order¡¯s name.¡± Scholar Idrius¡¯ voice cut the through the chuckles. ¡°It doesn¡¯t matter. If all goes to plan, we¡¯ll barely be associated with them anymore. We¡¯ll be adherents to a unique, and walking a much more important path.¡± Everyone nodded at that, their faces filled with ambition and hope. Academian Quincy¡¯s tone was harsh as he barked, ¡°Don¡¯t get ahead of yourselves. We have a lot of work to do before we can even think about asking the Walker to take us in. You all know your assignments. Focus on that, and we¡¯ll proceed one step at a time. Now, get into character and let¡¯s get moving.¡± Shaking his shoulders out, Acamemian Quincy adopted his noble smile and softened his presence. His entire being became warm and friendly before he turned on his heel and led them out of the room. With a bright smile on his face, he turned his head to look at Scholar Idrius who now looked much more approachable. ¡°You said platform 23, right?¡± She looked over at him with a gentle smile and replied, ¡°Yes Academian Quincy, platform 23.¡± Nodding lightly, he led them through the hallways, smiling and exchanging polite nods with the nobles of Hennings while he led his team to their scheduled astra-platform for teleportation to Dorchester. Stolen content warning: this tale belongs on Royal Road. Report any occurrences elsewhere. ¡ª-- Sitting at Vera¡¯s desk, he¡¯d been dealing with each ping, one after another, with Vera looking over one shoulder and Quincy standing over the other. Over and over, Vera had explained why each particular ping was essential, and then went into exacting detail on how this proved he had been an idiot for not having dealt with the ping the moment he¡¯d received it. To Nero¡¯s unending annoyance, each and every time Quincy had then exclusively taken the position of Vera¡¯s opposition by criticizing the need for Nero to be dealing with the pings at all. Over his right shoulder, he heard Vera voice her disgust with Academian Quincy¡¯s latest barb. ¡°He¡¯s the only one who could sign off their incorporation! At the time of this ping, he was the head of the entire house. How could a mercenary company bearing his house¡¯s name file their articles of incorporation without his signature being included in their initial filing? Do you expect the Tower of Law to just believe me when I say, ¡®Oh, Lord Walker? Of course, he knows all about this. I assure you this is what he wanted!¡¯ Lord Bennings would have me in front of a tribunal before the end of the day for abuse of position!¡± she all but shouted over Nero¡¯s head. Not remotely convinced, Quincy shot back, ¡°As usual, you¡¯re exaggerating the situation to the point of incredulity just to prove your point. You were House Walker¡¯s proxy. For something like this, your signature and approval would be more than enough for the company to be incorporated. If it weren¡¯t, your application and registration wouldn¡¯t have even been provisionally approved. Honestly, if you didn¡¯t want to be the one dealing with this, then you should have done a better job expanding House Walker¡¯s employment base. Forcing a young man like Lord Walker to deal with these things is a waste of his time!¡± Nick, from the other side of the desk, leaned his head in between the two holographic screens displaying the contents of Nero¡¯s account through the Thought-hub, trying to get Nero¡¯s attention. Whisper loudly, he asked, ¡°If you were actively delving into the thought matrix, why weren¡¯t you rebuffed by the intrusion protocols? More importantly, how did you mask your essence signature to allow your influence to permeate down into the link¡¯s core identity?¡± It had been a long time since Nero had been this annoyed. The only thing he could compare it to was the one time he¡¯d allowed his mother and the girl he was seeing at the time to help him with his taxes. Before he¡¯d known what happened, it had morphed into both women perching over his shoulders, having him walk them through all of the charges on his credit card statments. To this day, he still couldn¡¯t understand how asking for help on his taxes ended up with him spending an entire Saturday having to justify his spending habits. Now, just like then, he was the unhappy recipient of two radically different opinions assaulting his ears in stereo. It was obvious to Nero that Vera was an obsessive-compulsive and detail-oriented psychotic administrator type. While Quincy was the quintessential rich asshole, descended from generations of rich assholes, who as a whole considered everything associated with money to exclusively be the responsibility of employees and trusted advisors, and having Nero deal with it was a travesty on par with a war-crime. While the two of them were busy bickering had been bad enough, the last straw was when he started being assaulted by Nick leaning over the desk and trying to get him to explain in how he¡¯d been able to ¡®influence the thought-matrix¡¯ in his link. Deciding he¡¯d had enough, Nero tilted his head back and shouted, ¡°Everyone please, for the love of all that is holy and good, and for the sake of my sanity, shut the fuck up!¡± The three of them all took a step back and froze, and Nero dropped his head in relief at the blessed silence. ¡°Thank you,¡± he muttered as he exhaled heavily. Looking up at Nick, he said, ¡°Nick, I don¡¯t know any other way to say it. I¡¯ve already told you all I know. I sent my mind into the link, curious to see how it worked. I got a sense of how it dealt with certain things, and then in the sections where I disagreed with how it did what it did, I pushed a little until it changed. That¡¯s it. That¡¯s all I can tell you. I¡¯m sure there is some really complicated jargon and technical explanation as to what I did, but I don¡¯t know the terminology to explain it to you, nor do I plan on learning it.¡± Moving on, Nero pushed his chair back so he could look up at both Vera and Quincy who were standing next to him at the desk. ¡°Now, as for you two, I¡¯m sure you¡¯re both making really good points about whatever the hell it is you''re talking about. However, I don¡¯t care. Most likely, I will never care. When it comes to businesses, all I¡¯m concerned about is how much money I¡¯m getting out of them,¡± he said with utter seriousness. Seeing as Quincy began smiling and was about to say something akin to a victory speech, Nero continued, ¡°But that is not to say I don¡¯t appreciate how much work goes into the running of a house. Lucky for me, I have Vera who is worth a hundred strangers that I wouldn¡¯t trust to mow my lawn, let alone handle my money. Arbitrarily hiring a bunch of people out of nowhere is a good way to get yourself taken advantage of.¡± By the time he finished, neither of them looked particularly happy with him. Not that he cared. Looking up at Vera from his chair, he said, ¡°We¡¯re not even halfway done with this crap, and I¡¯m already considering fucking off and finding a private beach to retire on, all because I don¡¯t have to put up with your squabbling. And for the record, I agree with Quincy here that I¡¯d be an idiot to sign over my rights to you, regardless of how much I trust you. Now, from here on out, let¡¯s all cut the chatter and focus on getting through this without me losing my mind. I have no interest in listening to the comprehensive explanation as to how a particular ping came to be. So please, I¡¯m beggin you, just stick to the basics of what the ping says and explaining to me what I¡¯m signing, OK?¡± Vera deadpanned at him, crossing her arms and replying, ¡°Very well.¡± Then, turning to Quincy, he said, ¡°And if you could, please go and get us all some coffee and whatnot. I don¡¯t know if it falls under your job description, but could you also arrange for all the paperwork we¡¯ll have to file to get this crap transferred over into Vera¡¯s¡­ I mean House Verena¡¯s name so that we can set me up as a shareholder or something? I don¡¯t know how it¡¯ll work, but I¡¯m betting you do. The ultimate goal will be to have me still getting paid, while Vera continues running everything. However we can make that happen, that would be great. Thanks.¡± Turning his head to look at Nick who was still standing on the other side of the desk, Nero cocked his head a little in thought. He stared at the man for a few seconds in silence as he tried to come up with something useful for the man to do. Thinking of something, he said, ¡°Nick, you¡¯re of absolutely no use here. Instead, I¡¯d like you to go find me a few books on basic magic that explain how spell-forms are constructed, and how normal people attune themselves to essence flows. I¡¯m talking about the actual basics that the average person uses to explain how people in this world do magic. I don¡¯t want you picking out books that have any kind of underlying or hidden theme, or subtle clues as to what you think I might need to know. I want non-theoretical, actually applicable spell-casting books on how to do magic.¡± Seeing Nick glaring at him, obviously insulted by what he was saying, Nero returned the man¡¯s stare with one of his own. ¡°I¡¯m telling you right now Nick. I¡¯m the kind of stubborn, cynical bastard who will never believe what I¡¯m reading is anything but a fraction of the whole truth. You won¡¯t be ¡®polluting¡¯ me with native ideas or any other such nonsense that you fancy-pants scholars believe about paths. I plan on making my own way. But taking the best part about what someone else has already figured out and making it my own is how smart people save time. I don¡¯t want to spend years trying to figure out the magic system by picking apart spells I see other people casting. If it makes you feel better, consider this ¡®my path¡¯, one which I¡¯m choosing to follow all on my own.¡± Nick¡¯s face went from reticence to confusion and finally landed on shocked understanding. Nero watched the man come to some kind of inner realization or something, and he could almost ¡®taste¡¯ the misunderstanding in the air. ¡°No, Nick! This is not some profound life lesson or anything you can pick apart to gain greater insight into some nebulous all-encompassing ¡®grand truth¡¯. This is simply me not wanting to spend another god damned minute practicing the elemental wheel and ¡®honing my control¡¯. I just want to see how you all do magic because I guaran-damn-tee you that I¡¯ll think your way sucks, and then figure out the right way to do it.¡± Academic Quincy¡¯s voice carried what one might call a hint of reverence, as he restated what Nero had said, ¡°By taking the best from what others have done, we discover our own path to even greater accomplishments.¡± He sounded like a reverend quoting scripture or a nerd quoting the opening of the ¡®Lord of the Rings¡¯. Nero looked up at the man with disgust clearly displayed on his face and said, ¡°If you make a poster, start a cult, or some other kind of self-help movement out of that, I better be getting a large cut of the profits. You hear me!¡± Chapter 176 - Why he doesnt care. Mage-adept Newbanks was shocked when Arch-mage Jennings suddenly ended their meeting by shouting, ¡°What the hell is that insufferable woman doing?!?¡± only to then teleport away and leave her with nothing but questions. Hurriedly taking a seat in one of the guest chairs and closing her eyes, she reached out to the personal connection she¡¯d set up through the Tower of Magic and sent out a scrying probe to chase after the man so she could determine what was happening. The connection was quickly established, and she watched as the arch-mage argued with Lord Walker¡¯s proxy, Vera Salvatore-Verena. Frowning in confusion, she couldn¡¯t understand what they were talking about. Was Lady Verena betraying Lord Walker somehow? Did the arch-mage uncover a plot of some kind? Her concentration to the scry-link nearly shattered when she heard Arch-mage Mathers¡¯ frustrated voice ask, ¡°Well? Where did he go, adept?¡± Splitting her mind to maintain the connection, she opened her eyes to see the scry-link through the communication relay still displaying the hovering image of Arch-mage Mathers in the middle of the room. She¡¯d forgotten for a moment that it was his call that had prompted Arch-mage Jennings to close his eyes for a few seconds before running off. Standing up out of her chair to address the arch-mage, she said, ¡°It seems he¡¯s gone to the Verena estate. From what I can tell, he¡¯s unhappy with something Lady Verena was saying, or planning, but I¡¯m not sure exactly what.¡± Arch-mage Mathers, who was much more familiar with Jennings¡¯ capabilities, replied, ¡°He most likely reviewed the memory partition he¡¯d created to monitor his scry-link with Lord Walker. I can only assume that he found himself disagreeing with something Lady Verena was doing.¡± Rubbing his chin in thought, he went on to say, ¡°Most likely she was recommending Lord Walker to head to Hennings to register for classes at the Center-point Academy. That would explain why I¡¯m getting all these transfer requests. Honestly, what the hell is he doing out there? We agreed to let him go to Dorchester so that he could watch over the young man, and at every turn he¡¯s been out-maneuvered and out-played by the locals. How in the infinite hells is that possible? Seriously, this isn¡¯t a rhetorical question, what is going on over there?¡± While he was thinking out loud, his tone was getting angrier by the second. Mage-adept Newbanks was having difficulty trying to maintain her connection to the scry while also paying attention to both of the conversations she was hearing; the one she was having with Arch-mage Mathers, and the one currently happening at the Verena estate. But, before she could formulate a politically sound reply to Arch-mage Mathers¡¯ questions, she dropped her jaw in shock at hearing Arch-mage Jennings loudly invoke the military secrecy accords before shattering her connection to her scry. The backlash from the connection rebounding was enough to visibly stagger her. At the same time, Arch-mage Mathers felt the age-old connection he¡¯d shared with Arch-mage Jennings break. Raising his eyebrows in surprise, he muttered, ¡°What just happened?¡± Before he could check the automated records which were stored as a contingency protocol within the Hennings Tower of Magic, Mage-adept Newbanks answered his question. Her tone was one of disbelief as she gasped out, ¡°The arch-mage¡­ he invoked the military secrecy accords then sealed the room. He¡­ He¡­ He isolated the entire space, severing every connection to anyone in the room.¡± Arch-mage Mathers¡¯ brow furrowed, and he angrily demanded, ¡°He did what!?! Is he insane? What exactly were they talking about before the scy cut off?¡± Mage-adept Newbanks paled at what she recalled hearing just before the scry-link cut off. Although she knew the truth would eventually come out, as there were most likely numerous parties watching the conversation happening, she did NOT want to be the one to utter the logical accusation of what was probably being discussed under the guise of military secrecy. Gulping, she straightened her shoulders and said, ¡°I¡¯m sorry Arch-mage Mathers. For the time being, I¡¯m under Arch-mage Jennings¡¯ authority. Therefore, I¡¯m unable to answer your question at this time.¡± Raising his eyebrows in surprise, Arch-mage Mathers reeled back a little in shock. His mind raced through the various possibilities, trying to conceive of a likely scenario that matched the facts he had on hand. Coming up with nothing, he sighed and muttered, ¡°Whatever the hell is going on with that old bastard is for sure going to end up costing me hours of paperwork¡­ I just know it.¡± He then abruptly closed the scry-link and vanished from the room, apparently done with this conversation. ¡ª-- After he¡¯d exiled Nick and Quincy from Vera¡¯s office, the rate at which he and Vera were able to get through the backlog of pings increased dramatically. And without Quincy and Nick distracting him, Nero actually began listening to Vera¡¯s explanations about what he was reading. Unsurprisingly, the backlog of pings went back to when he¡¯d initially been raised to nobility. It was kind of nice for Nero to go through an in-depth review of everything that had happened to him from a different perspective. It was interesting to hear Vera¡¯s interpretation of the reasons behind him receiving that initial invitation to the keep. He remembered at the time thinking that it was nothing more than the city-lord wanting to take his measure. But, according to Vera, it was also the city-lord getting it on record that she was personally supporting the new noble raised in her city, and a gesture of respect to the royal backing Nero¡¯s new title granted him. There were of course a lot of pings that were now completely pointless. But even those proved educational for Nero. Vera explained how the lesson plan Nick and his team designed mirrored the one used in the preparatory schools for magic academies. And how citizens could sign up as auxiliary soldiers to receive specialized training and take classes at their local command center. Then there was the explanation of his opening bank statements, his house creation paperwork, proxy authorizations, and numerous other incidentals. Nero paused their review and asked her, ¡°Vera, If you were capable of explaining things this easily, then why have you let me flounder around like an idiot for the past couple of months?¡± Vera looked down disapprovingly at Nero who was sitting in her office chair. ¡°Do you honestly believe these brief overviews have taught you anything of value? Each of these pings was an opportunity for a larger lesson that you¡¯ve not only missed but still don¡¯t seem to grasp the importance of. Here, take this one for example,¡± she said, pointing at the hovering screen on the desk. ¡°This ping was from when I leveraged your assets to bet in the arena. You can see the itemized list of what you¡¯d received, and what you were still owed, along with an estimation of what you¡¯d receive from the auction of House Dorchen¡¯s property. If you read closely, you¡¯ll be able to see reference numbers for the public filings that you could use to track what came from where. You can also see that there are references to the arena¡¯s rules and regulations. While that is a simple overview, if you really wanted to learn from this, you¡¯d have to research each of these topics to understand how I was able to get them to accept the leveraged assets for the loan which I then used to place your bet. An overview is just that, an ¡®over view¡¯. It tells you nothing more than a broad description of what something ¡®is¡¯. To actually learn something, you need to go much further than simply understanding the definition. You need to understand the ¡®why¡¯ and ¡®how¡¯ behind the ¡®what¡¯,¡± she said, sounding like a grade-school teacher harshly criticizing a disappointing student. Help support creative writers by finding and reading their stories on the original site. Nero, however, wasn¡¯t impressed. As far as he was concerned, a brief wikipedia entry was more than enough for him to understand something. He didn¡¯t have time for an in-depth analysis of every single topic he¡¯d come across since he¡¯d arrived here. Otherwise, he¡¯d never have left the front gates, and he¡¯d still be listening to someone explaining how Dorchester¡¯s walls were raised through the application of enchanting, engineering, and other such pointless crap. Just thinking about it, he could image Nick standing next to him at the wall, pointing at a giant stone and saying, ¡°Each of these has been through the ¡®blah blah blah¡¯ construction process, which was invented by the brilliant researcher ¡®whoever¡¯ from the great city of ¡®wherever¡¯. Keep in mind, none of this would be possible if it weren¡¯t for the ¡®who-gives-a-shit¡¯ provided by the kingdom.¡± Nero looked up at Vera and shrugged. ¡°I get it. You and Nick have the same problem. You¡¯re too old and too smart. When it comes down to it, you simply know too much. When I ask you what something is, I don¡¯t need to know everything you do about whatever it is I¡¯m curious about. Think about it. Everything is connected, and if you pick any singular topic, it will eventually lead to everything else. So, in the future, just stick to the basics. Otherwise, I¡¯ll never learn anything,¡± he said. Vera frowned and asked, ¡°What do you mean ¡®everything is connected¡¯?¡± Nero looked at her in confusion. ¡°Come on, seriously?¡± he asked, then pointed at the cup of pens on the desk. ¡°If I ask you what that is, all I need to hear is that it is a cup full of pens. I don¡¯t need to know the material the cup is made out of or the cultural history associated with pens. Nick would waste hours explaining how the pens were made, their manufacturing process, and the technological history of the various types of pens, all of which led to the modern pen that is currently resting in that cup. You on the other hand would probably waste an hour explaining why pens are still even a thing despite everyone having access to the Though-hub and these screens, along with being able to simply write stuff with your mind. Everyone I¡¯ve met wastes too much time telling me crap I don¡¯t care about, and ignoring the initial question which prompted your completely pointless lectures. Don¡¯t get me wrong, a lot of what you guys say is really interesting, and someday I¡¯d love to hear about it. But, right now, I just don¡¯t have the time to care.¡± Vera frowned in thought. She had to admit that Nero did have a point. On more than one occasion she¡¯d heard him ask a question, and knowing about his limited understanding of the world, she¡¯d gone into detail about whatever topic he¡¯d asked about with the hope of helping him understand their society. Perhaps it was a little excessive. Nero could practically feel the wheels turning in her head, and he added, ¡°Now don¡¯t get me wrong. I appreciate you and Nick wanting to implant your decades of knowledge into my brain as fast as possible. I¡¯m just saying that I don¡¯t have a month to learn all about one isolated subject before another one ends up biting me in the ass. When I ask what I need to do to become a unique, I don¡¯t have time for a lecture on how the filing system works through the Tower of Law or any other nonsense I can¡¯t even image right now. I just need someone to get me the files I have to sign and make sure I don¡¯t do something stupid while I¡¯m filling them out. Why do you think I put you in charge of stuff? Aside from the essential fact that I trust you, it¡¯s also because I don¡¯t understand any of this legal crap, and I don¡¯t have the time or inclination to learn anything about it.¡± Vera sighed. She couldn¡¯t help but feel a little sad for the young man she¡¯d taken under her wing. He really hadn¡¯t had the time to figure anything out. One crisis after another had assaulted him from the moment he¡¯d entered and taken refuge behind Dorchester¡¯s walls. For her, the pace has been blistering, and she couldn¡¯t imagine how he must have been feeling. But at least now she now had a better understanding of how Nero must have been feeling all this time. Nodding in commiseration, Vera said, ¡°I understand Nero. You never wanted lessons, you simply wanted answers.¡± His eyes wide, and his smile bright, he looked up at her with appreciation and replied, ¡°That is a really good way to put it. Thanks Vera.¡± Turning back to the screens, she said, ¡°All right, let¡¯s start getting through these.¡± Their speed at dealing with the pings became even faster, and Vera refrained from going into detail for the most part, much to Nero¡¯s relief. They blitzed through the numerous updates for the businesses. Including the creation of their Trading houses, mercenary corps, and manufacturing centers. Nero didn¡¯t even bother to read most of what he was signing, as he quickly grew to trust that Vera would have chosen the best option without his input. He didn¡¯t bother to waste time listening to ¡®why¡¯ she did something in whatever way she did it, he just signed and smiled like a good little absentee boss. Everything was going exceedingly well until they came to a ping which stopped Nero dead in his tracks. ¡°What the hell is this?¡± he asked. Vera replied, ¡°Well, normally this would have been sent to House Walker¡¯s Thought-hub account. But it seems when people heard that you¡¯d become a unique, and were no longer part of the local nobility system, they decided to contact you directly. It¡¯s pretty shameless, as you haven¡¯t technically been inducted into your new citizen level, but I can see why they¡¯d try to get to you before that happens. Regardless, just send me a copy and then ignore it. I¡¯ll put it with the other ones I¡¯ve received for House Walker.¡± Nero frowned, simultaneously confused and a little angry. ¡°You mean there have been others? How many ¡®courtship¡¯ requests have I received?¡± Vera shrugged as if it didn¡¯t matter. ¡°Probably around 30 or 40. I just set them aside as you¡¯ve been clear about your intentions to stay unmarried for the time being. As you¡¯ve been busy, I¡¯ve also politely rejected any party and dinner invitations you¡¯ve received as the head of House Walker.¡± Collapsing into the back of the chair in shock, Nero asked, ¡°Are these people crazy? I haven¡¯t even completed my noble trials. I¡¯ve been here like what, a little over two months? What the hell, Vera?¡± Smiling as if she was enjoying seeing Nero so off balance, she replied, ¡°Nero. You have to understand. One of the noble trials is the trial of legacy. You needed an heir and a family as the head of House Walker. Many nobles would be delighted to have a daughter or son paired off with a new noble who is both rich and under the protection of the royals. And now that you¡¯re a unique, someone has to take over control of your interests in Dorchester. If you wed quickly, your wife could immediately take over House Walker and manage your interests here.¡± Nero was stunned. ¡®These power-hungry, money-grubbing, sons-of-bitches. I¡¯m not sure whether or not to be excited, insulted, or depressed about this particular flavor of local insanity,¡¯ he thought to himself. Zeroing in on something she¡¯d said, he asked, ¡°Wait, you said House Walker has a separate Thought-hub account? How does that work? And do I have to go through that one too?¡± Vera chuckled and replied, ¡°Every house has an account which is usually handled by a management department. I¡¯ve been covering yours by borrowing some administrators from Precision Shipping. Anything important I¡¯ve already forwarded to you. Where do you think all of these pings came from? If you look at the ping¡¯s history, you¡¯ll be able to see everyone who¡¯s looked at it before it was sent to you.¡± Nero leaned forward to look at the screen. He really did like these desks. It was a novel way to interact with the link. Instead of seeing it in your head, you were able to manipulate the displays as if you were the computer, and the interactive holograms were the monitors while your mind served as both the mouse and keyboard. It was intuitive to the point of hilarity. All he had to do was reach out, and the desk took over. It was brilliant. After briefly studying the ping, he found the section covering the ping''s history. With just a thought he was able to open another screen which displayed the trail the ping went through before it ended up in his account. He couldn¡¯t believe how many people had contributed and seen this seemingly stupid ping about some party he¡¯d already missed. And this one had been sent to his account directly. He couldn¡¯t imagine how many people it would have gone through had it been sent to House Walker¡¯s account first. Nero looked up at Vera and asked, ¡°Why would they arrange a party for me when I wasn¡¯t even in the city? And how did they know about my change in status? Wait! The better question is how is all of this getting done so quickly? I mean, how quickly do people typically deal with their pings?¡± Shrugging, Vera replied, ¡°Well, once you get used to it, it¡¯s pretty simple to open, read, interpret, then send off a reply. Even while we¡¯ve been talking, I¡¯ve probably dealt with around several hundred pings myself over the past few hours.¡± Nero¡¯s eyes widened in shock. ¡°You¡¯ve been splitting your mind to deal with pings this entire time?¡± Vera looked at Nero with some derision. ¡°Of course I have. You think you¡¯re the only responsibility I¡¯m dealing with at the moment?¡± Nero shook his head quickly, and replied, ¡°No, that¡¯s not what I meant. I was just surprised to hear that you¡¯re that good at splitting your mind. I¡¯ve tried doing it, and I suck at it. I don¡¯t know how many times I¡¯ve found myself acting like an idiot by over-drawing on my brain by trying to concentrate on too many things.¡± Vera¡¯s expression softened as she heard his explanation. ¡°Well, as your skills in ¡®thought management¡¯, ¡®logical processing¡¯, and the other mental skills increase in level, it will become easier. It just takes practice. Though, don¡¯t get your hopes up. Everyone has a different limit to what their brain can handle, along with whatever their talents lean toward.¡± Nero hadn¡¯t heard much about skills, as he¡¯d actively avoided dealing with that aspect of his identity. As far as he was concerned, his skills would level on their own. But he hadn¡¯t heard anything about ¡®limits¡¯ or ¡®talents¡¯ before. ¡°Are you saying that not everyone has the same potential to level their skills?¡± he asked. Vera nodded, and replied, ¡°That¡¯s exactly what I¡¯m saying. Everyone has things they¡¯re good at. I¡¯m particularly good at handling information and processing data. But, I¡¯m also rubbish at scrying. It¡¯s not something I¡¯m particularly happy about, so I¡¯d appreciate you not mentioning it. However, I don¡¯t mind using myself as an example. You see, I¡¯m very good at receiving, understanding, and handling information. However, it is all internal. I¡¯m not good at sending out my thoughts and following essence flows, which is an essential part of scrying and long-distance information gathering. No one is good at everything. Remember that Nero.¡± Nero nodded, accepting that this world had a lot more in common with his last world than he¡¯d liked to admit. ¡®No matter who you are, you¡¯re bound to suck at something,¡¯ he thought to himself sagely. Chapter 177 - Dinner and a show. After being exiled from Vera¡¯s office by Nero, Academian Quincy, and Nick headed off to see to the tasks they¡¯d been assigned. However, as they were both temporarily going in the same direction, they spent a few awkward minutes walking the estate hallways in silence. Academian Quincy had been following Nero¡¯s adventures from the very beginning. Therefore, he already knew everything there was to know about Nicholas Salvatore, former director of Dorchester Gate 7 Research. Because of that, he also knew how much they had in common. They were both born into nobility but uninterested in politics. Both of them shared a passion for science and were similarly dedicated to researching the greater mysteries. Even their sense of humor and interests were almost indistinguishable from one another. For Academian Quincy, it was like looking into the past and seeing a much younger version of himself come to life right in front of him. As they made their way down the hallway, Nick felt Quincy staring at him. Unconsciously glancing over at the man, Nick was surprised to see Academian Quincy looking directly at him. The man¡¯s smile and thoughtful expression made him shiver and he felt like he was being judged. Not willing to let the awkward silence continue, Nick asked the first thing that came to mind. ¡°So, I looked up your records earlier. I saw that you¡¯ve been with the Royal Academy for almost 70 years, while you started your career as a mage. What made you decide to leave the Tower of Magic?¡± Academian Quincy narrowed his eyes while raising a singular eyebrow as if he were both surprised and offended by the question. Seeing this, Nick immediately tried to retract his question, ¡°You don¡¯t have to tell me! You¡¯re an Academian is what I mean! You¡¯re here to ask the questions, not answer them, am I right?¡± Coughing into his hand, Nick cleared his throat and tried to adopt his ¡®professional persona¡¯. Squaring his shoulders and raising his chin, he said, ¡°Academian Quincy, apologies for my curiosity. I¡¯ve been spending too much time with Nero and as such have forgotten propriety. Now, if you¡¯ll excuse me, I¡¯ll be off to go and see about getting Lord Walker those books he requested.¡± Academian Quincy, while he hadn¡¯t been expecting the question, was also a little amused at the man¡¯s straightforward nature. Not willing to let the conversation end on such a sour note, he said, ¡°Lord Verena, please wait a moment.¡± Nick, who¡¯d already rushed a few steps ahead, almost imperceptibly dropped his shoulders in defeat but managed to maintain his professional smile. Slowing back down, he replied, ¡°Of course. What can I do for you, my lord?¡± Academian Quincy replied easily, ¡°Calm yourself, Lord Verena. I wasn¡¯t offended. Around me, you don¡¯t have to pretend to care about any of that noble etiquett we both so love to hate. Just treat me the same as you do young Lord Walker, and we¡¯ll get along just fine, I assure you.¡± Nick searched the man¡¯s eyes as if he were trying to see through the trick. In his experience, a man who was both politically and personally as powerful as the academian was usually not one to set aside his pride so easily. Regardless, he still didn¡¯t have much of a choice but to reply, ¡°If that¡¯s what you wish, then I will endeavor to do so, Academian Quincy.¡± Still amused, Academian Quincy couldn¡¯t help but wonder if Nick¡¯s path would turn out like his did. ¡°So, Lord Verena, do you plan to join Nero as an adherent?¡± Nick, frowning at the subject change, answered, ¡°I¡¯m not sure. I suppose it¡¯s likely. He¡¯s going to need someone to keep him from getting himself killed, so I doubt I¡¯ll have much choice.¡± He finished with a rueful chuckle. Academian Quincy nodded as if that was exactly the answer he¡¯d been expecting. ¡°Well, just remember to finish the paperwork for the completion of your noble trials before you formally end your marriage. Otherwise, Lady Verena will have to do the noble trials in your place. Not to mention that my team has already started working on the paperwork to have House Verena join House Walker as its Dorchester subsidiary. So changing the recipient of all of Lord Walker¡¯s properties at this point would be counter-productive.¡± Academian Quincy paused, as Nick had stopped abruptly and was now a few steps behind him. Turning around, he saw the man standing there with a confused and panicked look on his face. Nick, his tone a little unsettled, muttered a curse, ¡°Oh, I¡¯ll be damned to all the hells¡­ Vera had better have a plan for this.¡± ¡ª-- Nero emerged from Vera¡¯s office like a kid being let off for summer vacation. Not for a second did he feel remorse for leaving the woman behind to deal with all the off-handed comments and ideas he¡¯d spouted during their perusal of the different business plans he¡¯d been ignoring. From what he could tell, she seemed both excited and annoyed at having to reconfigure all the business models she¡¯d made for the trading houses he¡¯d asked her to start-up on a whim. Some of the pings had had attached memories which showed how the trading houses had been set up, and Nero had instantly pointed out where they could have done better. He¡¯d casually explained how to set up sales and rotating pricing structures, along with customer rewards cards and impulse purchasing trends she could take advantage of. He¡¯d even introduced her to the concept of ¡®customer newsletters¡¯ to announce special promotions and ways to increase customer retention through tracking people¡¯s purchasing history. As a manager of a cell phone store, he was more than familiar with the myriad of ways big businesses trick customers into buying things they don¡¯t actually need. He considered it a time-honored and respectable practice and was a little insulted that no one bothered to do it here. She¡¯d also been extremely interested in getting a more in-depth explanation of how companies could lease assets and then reduce their tax load by claiming depreciation. Nero cautioned her to check the applicable laws, but she still seemed to find the concept brilliant and promised to look into it. Enjoying the story? Show your support by reading it on the official site. Regardless, none of it was his problem any longer. If everything worked out like they¡¯d planned, he¡¯d merely be this world¡¯s version of a shareholder. He¡¯d be getting a percentage of the profits while not having to do a damn thing. Even better, he wouldn¡¯t be receiving any more pings about the business ever again! With a smile on his face, Nero made his way back toward the living room, while almost skipping through the halls in joy. Exiting the hallway, he saw way more people than he¡¯d been expecting. Stuttering to a stop, he looked around to see several members of the evaluation team grouped off in huddles and going over piles of papers. He also saw servants walking around refilling drinks and attending to everyone at the various tables and couches. Cathleen and Rose were chatting with a few people in combat leathers he didn¡¯t recognize, and Nick and Academian Quincy were off in the corner animatedly arguing about something. The sound of multiple serious conversations happening in tandem made him feel like he was walking into a town hall meeting or a funeral full of greedy inheritors. Almost as one, the entire room fell silent and turned to look at him as if they had been waiting for him to dare show his face around these parts. Feeling put on the spot, he casually waved and said, ¡°Hello everybody. If you have any questions or need anything, Vera will be along shortly. It¡¯s my dinner time, and I need to go see about a burrito.¡± Immediately ignoring everyone, he put his head down and walked into the room intending to make his way toward the kitchen which was on the opposite side of the room. Unfortunately for him, he barely made it a few feet before he was swarmed by people wanting to talk with him immediately. Seeing them all start talking at once while surrounding him, he could only assume they¡¯d been afraid of interrupting Vera and had instead been lying in wait for him to arrive without her protection. Nero held up his hands, trying to get everyone to shut up. Like many times before, he¡¯d wished he¡¯d learned how to do that loud whistle thing with his thumb and middle finger. Occasions such as this were few and far between, and it would have been the perfect time to bust it out and look like a badass doing it. However, even if he¡¯d had the ability, it would have been pointless because Academian Quincy came to his rescue in seconds. Taking control of the situation with ease, Quincy shouted, ¡°Everyone quiet down. Lord Walker wishes to eat.¡± Pointing at one of the servants, he ordered, ¡°You, bring him a burrito. If you don¡¯t know what that is, look it up.¡± Turning to his evaluators, he glared at them and said, ¡°Coordinate with each other to choose one person to present the plan you¡¯ve come up with.¡± Looking over toward Cathleen and the people she¡¯d been talking to, he said, ¡°You all will be interviewed later. For now, just be patient until Lord Walker has time for you.¡± Nero didn¡¯t know what he¡¯d be interviewing them about, but he was glad that Academian Quincy seemed so to have everything under control. He was so impressed with the man, that he didn¡¯t even notice when Quincy put his arm over his shoulder and led him off to sit at one of the tables like a Lord waiting for his supplicants to present their business. In less than a minute, he found himself sitting on a chair with a servant pouring him a fresh cup of coffee while another was arranging silverware in front of him. He could feel Quincy standing behind him a little to his right as if he were waiting to see if he was needed. It all happened so smoothly, that he wondered if it had been arranged beforehand. So much was happening that his eyes were darting around trying to keep up with everything. But, he was brought out of his thoughts when a young woman stood in front of him on the other side of the table. Looking up at her questioningly, he was about to ask what she wanted when he heard Quincy begin speaking as if he were announcing her. ¡°Lord Walker, this is Scholar Idrius. She has been with me for over a hundred years, and I can assure you that she is both capable and thorough. You can trust what she says, you have my word,¡± he declared with a hint of pride in his voice. Scholar Idrius bowed slightly in greeting, then set down an entire pile of paperwork on the table in front of her. ¡°Lord Walker. We have organized the paperwork you¡¯ll have to file to transfer your interests to House Verena. Unfortunately, we won¡¯t be able to file them for you until your provisional status as a unique is confirmed. I am sorry to say that our request for summary judgment has been denied. The Royal Academy¡¯s standards committee refused to rule, even provisionally, without first being provided evidence of you using your ability under controlled conditions. However, if you¡¯d like, you can begin the paperwork now and we can immediately file it when your status is confirmed.¡± Nero kept his mouth shut, as he wasn¡¯t sure if she was finished speaking. From behind him, Academian Quincy added, ¡°If you agree, we can head to one of the Center-Research facilities and perform the tests tomorrow morning. Or even tonight, if you¡¯re willing to give us a few hours to prepare.¡± Nero felt weird having to turn his head and listen to the man while he was standing behind him. He felt like one of those heads of state listening to their aide interpret what the person standing in front of them was saying. Looking around, he tried to locate Nick. Why wasn¡¯t he the one acting as his advisor? Locking eyes with his friend, he could see that Nick was standing off to the side, deliberately out of the way. It was really odd to see so many people standing there staring at him, while the guy he¡¯d been attached to at the hip for the past month was trying to hide himself off in a corner. Not willing to let these people he didn¡¯t even know keep running the show, Nero raised his voice loud enough to reach Nick and asked, ¡°Hey Nick, what do you think? Should we stop by your old stomping grounds and knock out some tests tonight? Maybe we can get Vera to come along and do all the paperwork for us if she isn¡¯t too busy taking over Dorchester¡¯s economy.¡± The entire room seemed to turn to look at Nick, who froze under their scrutiny. But, he quickly found his courage and strode forward confidently to address Nero and the room. ¡°That would be fine, Lord Walker. I will coordinate with the evaluators to find out what they need, and make sure the requisite equipment is provided at once. And I¡¯m sure Lady Verena would be happy to assist you with the paperwork, my lord,¡± he said, his tone sounding extremely professional. Nero cocked his head in confusion, not understanding why Nick was acting like that. In fact, this entire situation struck him as rather ridiculous. They were in a living room in the guy''s house for God¡¯s sake. Hell, he was sitting in a chair and waiting for a burrito to be delivered. Why was everyone acting like he was holding court? Deciding to embrace the stupidity, he waved a hand and pretended to be a pretentious tool, saying, ¡°Very good, Lord Verena. Until then, join me for dinner. Perhaps, if you¡¯d be so kind, you can arrange for some cheese and nachos as an appetizer before we enjoy our burritos. In fact¡­¡± He hopped to his feet and shouted with all the authority he could muster, ¡°Nachos and melted cheese for everyone!¡± Nick, understanding that Nero was not being even remotely serious, shook his head in exasperation. However, the servants didn¡¯t seem to get the joke and ran off to go find out if there were any fried corn chips on the premises, the world¡¯s wonderful translation magic letting them know exactly what Nero was demanding, at least conceptually. Nero was surprised to see Scholar Idrius calmly standing there as if he hadn¡¯t shocked her at all. He looked her in the eye and could actually see a hint of amusement and restrained laughter. He was surprised to see the same look on all the evaluator¡¯s faces. It seemed like they were somehow familiar with his method of dealing with serious situations. Perhaps these were some of the assholes that had been spying on him? Or maybe they¡¯d just been thoroughly briefed by someone. Either way, he¡¯d have to step up his game and adapt. Cracking a small smirk, he sat himself back down, as if hadn¡¯t been surprised to see her unsurprised. With his voice full of false warmth, he said, ¡°OK, miss. For the time being, you can just hold onto that stuff until we need it. But, thank you for tracking everything down, I¡¯m sure Vera will appreciate it too. In the meantime, do you need anything else? Or have anything else to report?¡± Scholar Idrius¡¯ eyes unconsciously went to Academian Quincy behind him, as if checking with the man on whether or not she should proceed. Nero suddenly realized that this was most likely all theatre, part of an elaborate setup meant to control him. He felt himself smile as he pieced together that Academian Quincy was likely trying to replace Nick as his confidant and advisor. ¡®Clever little bastards, aren¡¯t they,¡¯ he thought to himself. Glancing over at Nick who¡¯d somewhat reluctantly joined him at the table, he wondered, ¡®I wonder what Quincy did to put Nick so off his game? Could he have threatened him? Oh, Quincy, you cheeky bitch. If I find out you came all the way here just to start some shit, I¡¯m gonna make you regret ever stepping foot in my backyard,¡¯ he promised himself with a grin. Scholar Idrius who was just about to reply to Nero¡¯s question seemed to lose her voice for a second, then gulped as if she¡¯d swallowed something unpleasent. She wasn¡¯t sure what it was, but something about the wicked grin on the young lord¡¯s face made her feel decidedly uncomfortable. Chapter 178 - Am I going to be an unlocked character? Seeing how the little lord would be stuck dealing with paperwork and the trappings of nobility for the foreseeable future, Cathleen decided to get some of her questions answered. With Nick, Vera, and the evaluator Quincy all occupied with bothering Lord Walker, Cathleen took Rose to the basement for a little training. Swatting Rose¡¯s sword away with the palm of her hand, Cathleen watched as the young woman stumbled into an awkward roll. Forcibly maintaining the dispassionate look on her face, Cathleen sauntered toward Rose slowly, as if she wanted her to know that she wasn¡¯t even remotely taking the spar seriously. Struggling to her feet, Rose was clearly out of breath and shaken. Her appearance was a stark contrast to Cathleen¡¯s domineering attitude and imperious demeanor. They¡¯d been at this for hours, and Cathleen decided that the young woman was finally ready to be questioned. With her tone remaining carefully subdued, Cathleen quietly asked, ¡°So, why are you really here Vikander?¡± Hearing Cathleen¡¯s question, Rose felt like the past few hours had finally started making sense, Taking a few big gulps of air, she tried to catch her breath. Not surprised that a person like Cathleen Averett would question her motives, and fearing what would happen if she didn¡¯t manage to alleviate her concerns, Rose tried to answer as quickly as possible. ¡°I just want a fresh start, a real one. Weeks ago, Lord Walker said he¡¯d let me join him and offered me protection. I¡¯m just now deciding to take him up on it,¡± she said, her words coming out in struggling breaths. Cathleen paused, setting the butt of her spear on the ground. Her hawklike gaze froze Rose in her place. The young woman felt like she was being stripped bare under the warrior woman¡¯s scrutiny. Giving up all pretense of putting up a fight, Rose let her arms go limp, and the tip of her sword dropped to the ground. Making sure to look the older, wiser woman in the eye, she said, ¡°Ms. Averett. I understand your caution. I was placed with you and your lord at the behest of his enemies¡­ or at the very least by people who may not have had his best interests in mind. But, I never wanted to be a spy. And I have no desire to be an assassin. At heart, I¡¯m a hunter. Please believe me when I say that all I want is to cut ties with Dorchester and move on with my life. I just want to regain control of my path.¡± Cathleen¡¯s expression didn¡¯t falter one bit in the face of the young woman¡¯s confession. ¡°And you think joining Lord Walker¡¯s house will allow you the freedom to do so?¡± she asked, her tone, while soft, was full of judgment and sarcasm. Despite the seriousness of the situation, Rose found herself snickering. ¡°Ms. Averett. I¡¯ve been with Lord Walker for more than a month. I¡¯ve seen him effortlessly outwit the most powerful nobles in Dorchester, slay monsters as if he were 3 times his actual level, learn magic like he was born for it, defeat an entire assassination squad while capturing their leader, and obliterate kobalds by the hundreds. It¡¯s not a question of him letting me do what I want, it¡¯s me wanting to do what he asks. If I can get away from my past while following him to his future, then my path will finally be wide and clear,¡± she said, trying with all of her heart to sound as genuine as possible. Cathleen stood silent for a few seconds, considering the young woman¡¯s words. Then, she offered Rose a single nod of acceptance before turning around and walking away. Heading out of the training room, Cathleen shouted over her shoulder, ¡°You¡¯d better spend a few more hours on your footwork. You looked like an idiot rolling around in the dirt like that.¡± Despite the parting insult, Rose found herself smiling after the warrior woman left. Collapsing onto the ground with a huff of satisfaction, she quietly declared, ¡°Step one of ¡®avoid being implicated with the nobles¡¯¡­ check!¡± Meanwhile, while Cathleen left the young woman to her training, she was busy putting together a threat assessment for the former assassin¡¯s apprentice. As much as she would have liked to believe Rose¡¯s claims, she would reserve judgment for the time being. For now, she had more pressing matters to deal with. Like usual, she¡¯d connected her link to the local security system. It was a habit she¡¯d developed after long years of living in the city. In this case, as she was currently in the Verena estate, she was extremely limited in what she had access to. Nevertheless, she¡¯d seen the notification that a group of mercenaries were waiting for Lord Walker in the living room, and she wanted to be there in case her spear was needed. Quickening her steps, she made her way up the stairs and across the grounds. When she finally walked into the living room they¡¯d been meeting in, she felt more than a little confused at what she was seeing. She recognized quite a few of the mercenaries. Were they here to pledge to his house? Cathleen¡¯s usual blank expression cracked a little when she saw how many armed men and women were waiting to meet with the little lord. She¡¯d known Vera had started putting together a core group of fighters to fill the ranks of House Walker, but she hadn¡¯t expected so many of them to already feel this kind of loyalty. Striding into the room, she saw groups of the mercenaries all broken up into twos and threes, enjoying themselves while being attended to by the Verena¡¯s servants. Off in the corner, she could see Lord Salvatore-Verena and Academian Quincy debating in private over what was probably some noble nonsense she couldn¡¯t be bothered to care about. She wasn¡¯t surprised at all to see Nick ignoring his responsibility to deal with his guests. Approaching the leader of the twenty or so mercenaries, she carefully kept her tone devoid of any judgment. ¡°I remember you from when Lord Walker returned from his most recent assassination attempt. You were leading the guards Lady Verena dispatched.¡± The mercenary leader turned away from the three comrades she¡¯d been speaking with and looked at Cathleen with an enthusiastic smile. ¡°Yes, ma¡¯am. I¡¯m Natalie Keening. I¡¯m honored that you remember me. Many of us here were there that day.¡± Cathleen¡¯s gaze swept the room, noticing that all of the mercenaries were now paying close attention to the conversation she was having with their leader. ¡°I¡¯m assuming you¡¯re all here in person to find out what will happen to you now that Lord Walker is being raised to a unique, and Dorchester¡¯s House Walker is being disbanded?¡± she asked. Her tone carried with it a subtle question as to why they didn¡¯t just send a ping. Shaking her head quickly, Natalie replied, ¡°Not at all. I admit, that when we¡¯d received the formal termination notice from Lady Verena, we were shocked that our new corps was already being disbanded. But, when we found out that the little lord was being raised to a unique, every one of us decided that we¡¯d follow him anyway. After all, we signed up to serve Lord Walker, and that¡¯s what we¡¯re going to do. If he¡¯ll have us that is.¡± Cathleen¡¯s face remained impassive, but on the inside, she was reeling in shock. It was one thing for an established guard force to foster a sense of loyalty to their masters but for weak-willed Southerners - this was just too much. Had they even met Lord Walker aside from when they escorted him to the Tower of Law? One of the mercenaries that Natatlie had been talking to stepped forward, joining the conversation. He was a large man, but despite his size, he looked small when confronted by Cathleen¡¯s presence. Barely mustering up the courage to square his shoulders, he said, ¡°We¡¯ve all heard what Lord Walker has done for the people of Dorchester. Hells, everyone knows what the little lord has done for us. Between the rumors and link reports, we knew what we were getting into when we signed up to join House Walker. We¡¯re here because we recognize that we are witnessing the birth of a legend. Every one of us believes that he is meant for great things. Now that his path might lead him away from Dorchester, we still want to help him walk it. All of us intend to fight alongside him. None of us have family ties we¡¯ll be missing, and the opportunity to be an adherent to a man like Lord Walker is something none of us want to miss out on. With him leading us, our paths will go further than if we go it alone.¡± Natalie nodded at her companion¡¯s words, and so did many of the mercenaries in the room. Looking Cathleen in the eye, Natalie said, ¡°We all know you¡¯re his chosen protector, and none of us mean to challenge you for that right. We just want to join you. We¡¯ll swear whatever oaths to Lord Walker you want. Where he goes, we¡¯ll follow.¡± She held up her arms, as if gesturing that everyone behind her was of the same opinion. As a group, the mercenaries declared in one voice, ¡°For The Walker.¡± Cathleen was speechless. But after a few seconds of thought, her expression developed a slight smile. She couldn¡¯t wait to hear what the little lord had to say about this interesting development. ¡ª-- Nero was lost in his thoughts as he made his way through the hallways of Gate 7¡¯s Center-Research. While he should have been feeling nostalgic at being back here, he was instead trying to decide what to do about Cathleen and the mercenaries waiting for him back at the estate. This story has been taken without authorization. Report any sightings. Upon hearing their heartfelt pleas to join him as adherents, which he¡¯d interpreted as some sort of follower, he had immediately bailed. He¡¯d told Cathleen to interview them, and he¡¯d promised to give them his decision ¡®soonish¡¯. Now, he was stuck heading toward the labs with a bunch of dorks with lights on their heads, trying to ignore Nick¡¯s overzealous impression of a tour-guide, all while struggling to get his thoughts in order. Meanwhile, the entirety of the evaluation team was eagerly listening to Nick describe the work being done at his former stomping grounds. With a proud smile on his face, Nick gestured off to one of the hallways, saying, ¡°Down there are the agricultural research sectors. During the last review, we managed to rate 17% above the standard for cities of our technology level. Since, historically, we haven¡¯t had the availability of essence events of any significance, we¡¯ve been focusing on our material sciences and flow tracking. While I haven¡¯t been keeping up to date, I¡¯m sure a great deal of resources are being diverted to new fields of study.¡± Nero wasn¡¯t really comprehending much of what was being said, but he could feel that the evaluators all seemed impressed with what they were hearing. Academian Quincy, with his signature smile in full effect, patted Nick on the back. ¡°I must say, Lord Verena, you¡¯re city is doing very well with what little you¡¯ve had to work with. Even after reviewing how you¡¯ve handled the recent density shift, I have to say I¡¯m more than a little impressed. I¡¯m sure that even without Lord Walker¡¯s presence, Dorchester will continue to stand proud as one of Oglivarch¡¯s most promising cities,¡± he said, his tone both complimentary and full of implications. Nero cocked his head, unsure if he was reading too much into Academian Quincy¡¯s words. ¡®Is he really expecting me to just abandon everyone? Do I really come off as that big of a dick?¡¯ he wondered. Nick continued to show off the research sectors, but Nero could tell the man now seemed a little preoccupied. His enthusiasm was starting to look a little forced, and Nero couldn¡¯t help but wonder why. Eventually, they made their way to the lab Nick had reserved, and the evaluators descended on the lab equipment like a pack of jackals. Some of them were so eager to get to the equipment before their co-workers that they nearly shoved Nero to the ground in their enthusiasm. Instead of following them, Nero walked off to the side of the lab where the kitchenette and table were located. He figured that when they got everything up and running, they¡¯d eventually track him down. He didn¡¯t have time for a series of pointless lectures on what they were doing. He still had to figure out what to tell Cathleen and his potential grunts. Minutes passed as Nero tried to figure out the coffee maker with the help of an instructional video he¡¯d found through his link. ¡®I really need to spend some time seeing what¡¯s all on here. I doubt it¡¯s all cat videos and cooking shows. Their society of nerds probably regulates the hell out of their internet,¡¯ he thought to himself, before shelving the subject in the back of his mind. He soon found himself sitting at the small table, sipping his freshly brewed coffee and watching the evaluators move around like a colony of bees attending to their metal garden. In the middle of it all, Nick stood like a conductor, coordinating their work as if he were finally back in his element. Nero couldn¡¯t help but smile at the sight. It was good to see his friend doing what he loved again. The man had never looked comfortable in the training compound, let alone in the wilds. This was what he was meant for, the lab. He could still remember the look on Nick¡¯s face as he¡¯d held his arms in the air and shouted, ¡°For Science!¡± ¡°So, do you plan to ask him to be one of your adherents?¡± asked Academian Quincy. Nearly spilling his coffee in surprise, Nero turned his head to glare up at the man who¡¯d startled him by sneaking up on him from out of nowhere. Annoyed at seeing Quincy standing there, smiling as if he hadn¡¯t just nearly given him a heart attack, Nero griped, ¡°Shouldn¡¯t you be with the other light-hats, preparing those torture machines for my imminent testing?¡± Chuckling, Academian Quincy took a seat next to Nero at the table. ¡°They know what they¡¯re doing. You have nothing to worry about, as I¡¯m sure you¡¯ll find the exams painless. We only have to confirm your ability to interpret and observe individual essence flows without the aid of any sensory equipment. But, right now, I¡¯m more interested in what you¡¯re thinking about. When those people applied to join your personal house, you fled the room without even finishing your dinner. I¡¯m curious as to what that was all about?¡± he asked, his voice actually managing to sound interested, and not at all judgemental. Nero side-eyed the man while sipping his coffee. And after a few seconds of silent consideration, he sighed and set down his cup. Locking eyes with the man, he said, ¡°I just don¡¯t understand the whole adherent thing. The way those people were looking at me, it was like they were begging me for permission to join my cult or something. I don¡¯t even know them! It was bad enough when Cathleen was professing her intentions to follow me wherever ¡®my path¡¯ might lead. But, now Rose and these other fools are asking to sign up for whatever trouble I¡¯ll be getting into? How is that supposed to work? Do I have to pay them? Are they expecting me to start a guild or something?¡± Academian Quincy leaned back in his chair and laughed. It was a rich and full-bodied laugh that Nero felt was entirely devoid of any malice. Seeing the man react in such a sincere manner, Nero felt the tension in his shoulders release and he found himself unconsciously smiling a little. Looking at Nero with an expression full of support and understanding, Academian Quincy said, ¡°Nero, may I call you Nero?¡± He paused as if he were actually waiting for Nero¡¯s verbal permission. Nero nodded with an eye-roll and picked his coffee back up. Smiling widely, Academian Quincy continued, ¡°Nero, I think you might be misunderstanding what being an adherent means. As a unique, you¡¯re like a private house that isn¡¯t tied to anywhere but the kingdom. You¡¯re essentially a citizen of the Oglivarch rather than one of its cities, and as such you can be considered a mobile house, or more like a mobile guild, all on your own. People who join you will do so for any number of reasons. Whether it¡¯s to see the kingdom, remove themselves from the strictures of the system, or follow you because they believe in your cause, people will flock to your banner. It¡¯s even worse for you, as the local rumors and recent events have painted you as something of a wandering hero, a divinely sent champion of the people who foils noble plots with one hand and defends the walls of civilization with the other. If you¡¯d like, you can think of adherents as your subjects. Just like adherents to any tower or faith follow their purpose, your adherents will follow yours.¡± Nero was frozen as he held his coffee in a shaking hand. ¡®Well, that got real awfully damn quick,¡¯ he thought to himself. Shaking off the serious implications of what the man was saying, Nero replied, ¡°OK. While that was super helpful and everything. That doesn¡¯t explain what an adherent actually is. Like, what are my responsibilities to them? Is it a lifetime appointment? If they end up breaking some law or something, am I legally liable? If they are supposed to follow me around, then do I have to pay for their lodgings and food and stuff? What about their medical care? Do they pay taxes to the kingdom or the city they came from? Do you understand what I¡¯m asking? Cause despite how everyone here tends to answer my questions as if they were some kind of deep philosophical inquiry, I¡¯m usually very literal with what I¡¯m trying to find out. Seriously, can¡¯t you people even answer a simple question without turning it into a God damn sociology lecture!?!¡± Just as Nero was beginning to work himself into a lather, Nick walked over and joined the conversation, taking a seat with a gentle smile on his face. Nick looked much more at ease now that he was back in a lab. ¡°Nero, calm down. Academian Quincy just isn¡¯t used to speaking with someone who is as pathetically uninformed as you are. To answer some of your questions, I¡¯ll first have to explain a little about how a typical citizen lives their life. Despite being here for a few months, you¡¯ve led a pretty sheltered life.¡± he said while keeping his tone light and trying to calm Nero down. Keeping his voice steady, his tone easily slipped back into his lecture mode. ¡°People are citizens of their city first. Their educational limits and prospects are dictated by the local conditions they find themselves in. If they manage to climb the ranks and feel the need for more, they have to leave their city and start over in a new one from the very beginning. For most people, it¡¯s a very big deal to travel and try and advance their path. But for nobles, it¡¯s even more arduous. For them, leaving the city means leaving behind their titles and progress on the ladder. In a new city, they will once again be a simple commoner, even though they have a noble background. The only advantage they have is that they¡¯re able to apply for the noble trials, though only their local achievements will count toward their completion. And then, even if they succeed, they¡¯ll still start at the bottom of their new city¡¯s local ladder. So, most people tend to take advantage of the exceptions, and that is through joining a tower, or a guild that operates throughout the kingdom. But even then, they are then tied to their job, and their progression is on the ladder associated with whatever organization they¡¯ve joined.¡± Nero interrupted, as he immediately recognized a flaw in that system. ¡°Hold up. What about their assets and savings and stuff? It¡¯s not like they¡¯d have to leave everything behind, right? Having a big ass bank account would set them up pretty well in the new city regardless of whether or not they were still a noble,¡± he said, not believing for a second that coming from money didn¡¯t offer someone an inherent advantage. Academian Quincy, now with a better idea of what Nero had been asking, joined in. ¡°The only universal currency in the kingdom is essence crystals. Everything else is defined locally. Even trade between cities is filtered through a weighted average of how much an essence crystal costs in the cities in question. It¡¯s why there aren¡¯t too many advanced enchanted items or technologies in places like Dorchester. Cities are intended to be self sufficient. And even if the law allowed it, It would simply cost too much to acquire anything useful from outside the walls.¡± Nero frowned in confusion, as he struggle to understand what they were saying. If anything, the lack of local essence crystals should make them worth more here. Suddenly, understanding blossomed, as he asked, ¡°Essence crystals don¡¯t always have the same density or something, am I right?¡± Both Nick and Quincy exchanged looks of surprise. Academian Quincy leaned forward and asked, ¡°And how did you come to that conclusion?¡± Nero replied quickly, ¡°Because if they were, then someone with an enchanted mirror from some fancy place could come here and buy a mansion after selling it to some local merchant. Even if it were illegal, I¡¯m sure there must be some sort of black market or something.¡± Nick smiled and said, ¡°It¡¯s not just that essence crystals have different levels. It¡¯s also what the local essence densities can support for enchantments and the like.¡± Pointing at the satchel Nero was carrying, the one Arch-mage Jennings had given him, Nick said, ¡°Remember when I tried to explain how much that bag cost? It¡¯s because it¡¯s a planar item that powers itself off through an isolated inter-planar connection. Someone could sell that here in Dorchester and acquire enough money to purchase anything they¡¯d want. However, selling it would set off so many flags in the Hall of Trade that everyone involved would find themselves in front of a tribunal before they could spend a single valen.¡± Nodding along, Academian Quincy added, ¡°Our society is segregated strictly by city. Trade is almost entirely limited to essence crystals and raw resources. Otherwise, nobody would bother living anywhere else than in one of the more powerful cities. Which would be a massive problem due to the fact that it is so difficult to level there. Most people in the capital or any other powerful city aren¡¯t actually from there. And if they are, they are most likely part of a great house with ties to feeder cities which allow them to raise their children in environments more suited to leveling and progression.¡± Nick added, ¡°There are in fact many ways to move between cities, but most of those are considered rare and specialized. There are loremasters and singers, who move about the villages and the larger cities to spread legends and insight into the larger world. Heroes, who are nominated by local leaders due to their achievements and followers. Traders, who travel in caravans and carry kingdom-wide authority to trade with whoever they want. They more or less run what you¡¯d call the black market. All of these are titles that fall under the same economic structure that you will as a unique. They are people outside of the cities'' economies, their wealth is instead backed by the kingdom itself.¡± Nero¡¯s mind was blown. Although they¡¯d gotten completely off the topic of what the hell an adherent was, he¡¯d found out a few things that changed the way he thought about the kingdom¡¯s organization at a fundamental level, and he felt like he¡¯d been an idiot for not having realized it. His expression utterly serious, he said, ¡°Let me get this straight. Do you mean to tell me that I¡¯ve been living in a starter zone? And the density shift is like the local level range is being raised? But for the average Joe, whenever he moves to a new city, he has to start farming local reputation points and currencies all over again? However, there are specialized units, like uniques and heroes, who aren¡¯t tethered to a particular city, and can go wherever they want? How do you all not realize that everything here is like a real-life game?¡± Once again, the two older men shared a look, but this time it was one of confusion. Nick replied, ¡°Of course we realize that life is a game. Haven¡¯t you heard us talking about the game from the moment you¡¯ve arrived here?¡± Nero didn¡¯t know what to say. He still didn¡¯t understand what he needed to know about adherents, what being a unique actually meant, or what he was going to be doing for a living, but he at least felt like he was finally able to see the board he¡¯d been playing on. Chapter 179 - I think Ive seen this type of thing before. The coordination it took to hide a meeting like this behind privacy wards was something they¡¯d perfected over the years. Whether it was dealing with a troublesome noble house that needed to be quietly suppressed, or having to simply get their stories straight before they publicly discussed something in the Hall of Leadership, they¡¯d had plenty of practice at this type of thing. Walking into the room chosen for the meeting, City Lord Cosgrave felt the wards pushing against her essence field. While at one point it had been an unpleasant sensation, over time she¡¯d come to associate it with a feeling of safety. Looking around the room, she could see that everyone she¡¯d invited was already there. General Branson sat at one side of the square table, his usually stoic face showing subtle signs of stress. Next to him was Lord Voltan, whose familial ties with the Royal Academy made him an excellent resource whose help would aid them understanding their recent guests. Across from them was Lord Bennings, who as usual looked mildly annoyed at having to deal with the plotting nobles that plagued her day in and out. The city lord repressed the smirk she felt at the thought of how many schemes Lord Bennings had been associated with, merely due to the fact that everyone wanted to include her as a voice of reason so they would not accidentally cross the lines into illegality. The Tower of Law was responsible for making sure the kingdom¡¯s laws were followed, so there were protocols in place for nobles to request private consultations for meetings just like this, specifically to help them stay within the rules while they schemed and plotted against each other. While it was in no way mandatory, considering all that was happening she¡¯d be a fool if she didn¡¯t take advantage of the opportunity for a personal consultation with the Tower of Law¡¯s director. Despite Lord Bennings tendency to send lawmasters to meetings like this, at the level they were currently playing at, the woman¡¯s presence was both necessary and unavoidable. They were using a dimly lit room in the basement of the keep for the meeting, and unsurprisingly it was just as cold and damp as she expected it to be. The pulsing runes along the walls which had been clandestinely installed were almost overpowering the singular essence light hanging over the table. Had she had more time, she would have ensured their meeting took place somewhere a little more dignified. Taking her seat, she began without any preamble, ¡°Lord Voltan, let¡¯s begin with you. What have you found out from your granduncle?¡± Lord Volton barely cared about the current happenings. As far as he was concerned, the new lord and his escapades had very little to do with him. Nevertheless, he¡¯d still dutifully looked into what the city lord asked. After all, banking a favor or two with so little effort was simply the most logical play considering how little he had to lose. Leaning back in his rickety chair, he sounded extremely bored when he replied, ¡°Well, for starters, the new evaluation team is made up of a tight-knit group of scholars who¡¯ve followed Academian Quincy for years. From what I¡¯ve been told, they¡¯re typically involved in ferreting out internal issues within the academy, and for the most part, they are seen as investigators rather than scholars. How they came to be assigned as a last-minute replacement is anyone¡¯s guess. My granduncle made it clear that there was something fishy about their appointment, but he had no idea what. Even with everything happening quickly over there, there are still a lot of parties paying close attention to this matter. Regardless, I got the distinct impression that most of the Royal Academy¡¯s upper echelons were glad to see Academian Quincy and his team out of Hennings and no longer able to poke their noses into whatever plots the locals were currently up to.¡± The general looked pensive, as he crossed his arms while raising a fist to his chin in thought. Lord Bennings didn¡¯t look remotely interested and seemed to be patiently waiting for her turn to speak. City Lord Cosgrave pursed her lips and said, ¡°That¡¯s a worrying development. Do you think they¡¯re here to look into how Dorchester has treated its new lord?¡± Even if they were, it had very little to do with him. So, Lord Voltan merely shrugged lazily and replied, ¡°I couldn¡¯t say. I¡¯m sure their primary purpose is to evaluate Lord Walker¡¯s abilities, but beyond that, it¡¯s entirely possible someone lodged a discreet complaint or two on his behalf.¡± The general, fed up with the situation growled, ¡°We did nothing illegal. Everything that happened to the young man was perfectly within the bounds of the law. We made sure of that.¡± Lord Bennings took that as her cue to join the conversation. ¡°While technically correct, your lack of action considering your foreknowledge of the plots against him, the noble spies you allowed to be assigned to watch over him, along with the agent you personally included on his team are all documented facts that could contribute to you being stripped of your position on the grounds of incompetence, and possibly even lead to charges on the grounds of gross negligence and misconduct.¡± Lord Bennings¡¯ emotionless face turned to look at the city lord, and she added, ¡°City Lord Cosgrave, I¡¯m sure I don''t have to tell you what possible charges you could be facing if the evaluators decide an investigation is necessary. Both of your children, along with your former consort¡­ Need I say more?¡± The city lord and the general both looked at each other in commiseration. Everything they¡¯d done was in the best interest of Dorchester. Yet, those lofty intentions wouldn¡¯t save them if the evaluators chose to formally criticize their actions. They were at the mercy of strangers, and neither of them was particularly happy about it. Lord Bennings let them stew for a few seconds as if she was silently punishing them for including her, even tangentially, in their stupidity before she continued, ¡°The good news is that I don¡¯t think they particularly care about what you¡¯ve done. To be honest, from an outside perspective, Lord Walker has bested you both thoroughly and come out all the better for it. With him not holding any grudges, and everything already being appropriately handled from a legal point of view, I very much doubt the evaluators will bother with either of you. From what my agents have observed, the evaluators are currently focused on helping Lord Walker adjust to his new position. They seem to be taking it as a given that his new status will be ratified without issue. To them, his time as a noble in Dorchester will be nothing but a footnote in his legend. From the moment they arrived, they¡¯ve been digging into House Walker¡¯s public accounts, and arranging for the legal transfer of his interests over to House Verena. They¡¯ve also been using their legal authority to access the private records from the Center concerning what little testing Lord Salvatore-Verena had done on Lord Walker. That is more or less all they¡¯ve been doing. So, I very much doubt you have anything to worry about.¡± Both the general and the city lord gasped in relief while glaring at Lord Bennings for giving them such a scare. Seeing their faces, Lord Voltan couldn¡¯t contain himself and started laughing unabashedly, not caring in the least when their glares turned to him. He seemed to believe they deserved it and wasn¡¯t shy about showing it. The city lord seemed to freeze in place as if she¡¯d had a thought. ¡°If they¡¯re going to be directly transferring House Walker¡¯s interests, then are we still going to be able to tax them for the transfer?¡± The only upside to having Lord Walker pulled out of the local ladder was that he would no longer be able to have so many business interests in Dorchester. After the exploit he¡¯d found, it was a gift from the heavens that he wouldn¡¯t be able to keep his House here. She¡¯d been planning to host the auction here at the keep, and then justifiably tax the hell out of the transfers. Lord Bennings smirked and said, ¡°As far as I can tell, the evaluators are planning to fold House Verena as a branch house under Lord Walker¡¯s personal house and then transfer all his interests to them as a welcome gift. I believe the only thing he¡¯ll retain is his ownership of the former Dorchen estate, which will probably be rebranded as his personal lodgings, and therefore exempt from local property taxes. I regret to inform you that they seem to be very thorough with their paperwork.¡± Stolen from its original source, this story is not meant to be on Amazon; report any sightings. The city lord clutched her fist in annoyance. She immediately recalled one of her mother¡¯s favorite sayings, ¡®When the world offers you a reprieve from your mistakes, immediately check with your accountant, as you¡¯ve probably just been robbed.¡¯ ¡ª-- Nero was trying to put things into terms he could understand. It was the only way he¡¯d be able to keep his sanity. Running his hand through his hair, he tried to keep it simple, ¡°OK. So, I¡¯m like a walking house that is registered in the capital. My money and stuff is all going to be stored there, in whatever local currency the capital uses. Which are also called valens for whatever reason. But, as it¡¯s the kingdom¡¯s capital, the valens there are what all the cities base their conversion rates on. Next, since I won¡¯t actually be living there, anywhere I go I¡¯ll have an automatic account opened in whatever local city¡¯s region I find myself in. With that, I can pay for stuff and do whatever I want. Right so far?¡± Both Nick and Quincy were leaning back in their chairs, obviously enjoying Nero¡¯s confusion a great deal. Nick replied with a smile, ¡°More or less.¡± Nodding, Nero went on, ¡°As a unique, I¡¯ll be able to take my troop of adherents, which I should refer to as my ¡®party¡¯, along with me. We¡¯ll go around getting paid to solve problems or investigate things I¡¯m interested in, and we¡¯ll¡­ or rather I¡¯ll be getting paid by the city giving the quest or the kingdom depending on what I¡¯m doing. Quests are posted in either the Hunting Hall, or the Adventurers Hall, depending on what is available in the city I find myself in. Also, I¡¯m responsible for keeping my crew fed and armored, and they in turn give up their citizenships to join me?¡± Nero looked at the two men questioningly. He felt more and more like an idiot as he continued talking. Although he was merely restating what they¡¯d told him, albeit in simpler terms than they¡¯d used, he couldn¡¯t help but feel as though he was sounding more and more insane the longer he went on. Which of course led to him being more than a little shocked when they continued to nod along as if he were actually making sense to them. Trying to repress the urge to laugh at the absurdity, he continued his recap, ¡°And it is expected that I will travel around the kingdom, visiting cities and sticking my nose in whatever strikes my fancy, whether it is slaying beasts or dealing with local threats. Then, as an added bonus, I¡¯m probably going to end up marrying various local nobles, starting houses, having a few kids, all before I head off into the sunset for my next adventure, leaving my new wife and kid to run the local House I¡¯ve left for them. Have I got that part right?¡± Nick shrugged and replied, ¡°I wouldn¡¯t exactly put it that way, but yes, that¡¯s how it usually works.¡± Nero had essentially distilled more than an hour of conversation into a few short statements, which when heard out loud, sounded completely crazy. Yet, he couldn¡¯t stop himself from seeing parallels to all the stories he¡¯d ever read, along with the countless games he¡¯d played. What was even more maddening was that he could see how their society all fit together like a giant puzzle, coming together in a grand tapestry to create a logical, albeit bonkers, system. Nero sat in silence, ignoring the two men who were patiently waiting for him to come to terms with what he¡¯d learned. His thoughts were churning like a maelstrom in his head. Despite how crazy it all sounded, he couldn¡¯t help but wonder if any of the governmental systems back home would have made any more sense after being boiled down to a few honest paragraphs. His own former government was rife with contradictions and insanities. It was a land of freedom with libraries full of law books on how that freedom could be legally expressed. Free speech zones, dedicated crosswalks and bike lanes, building codes, leash laws, enough required licenses to fill twenty wallets, and countless other subjects spurning multiple opinions nobody could agree on. And, it was all under a democratic government that was run by a two-party system with delegates chosen from a limited pool determined by the country¡¯s elite. Which in turn was elected by a committee as a hopeful representation of the country¡¯s actual opinion. And he didn¡¯t even want to try and tackle state¡¯s rights versus federal ones, as he knew he¡¯d only sound like a dipshit if he tried. But, he¡¯d lived there, and it had worked fine, better than fine. People got up in the mornings, went to work, and lived their lives without issue. Taxes were paid, roads were paved, and most people even had internet access. All in all, it was a wonderful country. The massive country-wide arguments were fun ways to pass the time, and he really hadn¡¯t had much to complain about if he were being honest with himself. So, who was he to criticize it outside of his chatroom ramblings? Now that he was in this new world, shouldn¡¯t he give it the same courtesy he gave his old one? It¡¯s been pretty fun despite people trying to kill him and the coed bathrooms. It wasn¡¯t like the system was any crazier than what he¡¯d read about the Middle Ages. Those times were batshit crazy. Not that the Renaissance was any better, come to think of it. Hell, at one point in history, people walked twenty paces and shot at each other to decide whether or not someone should feel insulted. Was that any more logical than a sword fight determining legal culpability? When it came down to it, all forms of government were just complicated social constructs to dictate who was right and who was wrong. Violence and words were always the bedrock of humanity. Both the Greeks and the Romans had coliseums. While one was filled with argumentative old men, and the other filled with gladiators, they both fought a whole hell of a lot without solving anything. So, perhaps having roving bands of homeless busybodies was a perfectly valid way of handling things. And going around charming ladies while kicking ass with his own personal squad of thugs didn¡¯t sound so bad if he were being completely honest with himself. Coming out of his thoughts, he looked up at the two amused locals and asked, ¡°So, how many adherents can I have in my party? And how are they usually organized?¡± Academian Quincy leaned forward to put his forearms on the table, replying, ¡°As many as you can afford, and in any configuration you want. You could have all warriors, mages, administrators, or any combination thereof. And with your income from the interests you have here in Dorchester, as long as you stick to visiting the weaker cities, you could probably afford to have around 50 adherents under your banner. Although, if you plan to travel by teleportation, that would end up being quite expensive. Not to mention rather wasteful.¡± Nero nodded, deep in thought. His brow slowly furrowed, his lips pursed, and his eyes narrowed as if he¡¯d come to a difficult decision. He decided then and there to embrace the game-like logic of the world and treat all of this as some kind of strategy-type kingdom simulator. He had unlocked Dorchester and was now earning valens from his local house¡­ the Verenas. After promoting his character profile from commoner, to noble, and now unique, he¡¯d finally unlocked the travel option. He now needed to fill his follower slots, and then finish up the quests in this starter city so that he could start unlocking more cities. At the top of his unfinished quests list, there was the density shift and the kobald threat. Cocking his head in thought, he went over his mental gymnastics, trying to see if he¡¯d stuck the metaphorical landing. ¡®Yeah, sounds about right. I¡¯m sure there is stuff I¡¯m missing, but as long as I keep putting things in terms I¡¯m familiar with, I should be able to figure it out. I¡¯ve got a pretty high reputation with Dorchester, and I¡¯m working on my Oglivarch rep with every quest I complete. I just have to remember to not get bogged down in the details¡­ I can do this,¡¯ he told himself firmly, trying to sound encouraging. Refocusing on Academian Quincy, he asked, ¡°So after I do this evaluation thing, when will I officially be a unique?¡± Academian Quincy replied, ¡°Well, we shouldn¡¯t have a problem getting you a provisional appointment by the end of tomorrow. However, your evaluation will be ongoing. Don¡¯t worry, the kingdom is paying us to be here, so you are not responsible for us. We¡¯ll stay with you, help you with whatever you need, and compile our report over the next few weeks. After that, if you want us to stay with you, you¡¯ll have to take us on as adherents.¡± Nero widened his eyes at the thought of Academian becoming one of his followers. Suddenly, a lot of the little things he¡¯d noticed suddenly started making sense. Although what Quincy had just said was probably meant to be a throw-away line to subtly put the idea in his head, Nero thought it explained some of the man¡¯s actions he¡¯d been wondering about. Turning his head to look at Nick, he remembered Nick¡¯s assumption that he and Nero would be parting ways. Like he was watching a tennis match, Nero swung back to stare at Academian Quincy, remembering how the man had tried to act as some kind of advisor back at the estate. That explained all the tension he¡¯d noticed between the two nerds. Nick doesn¡¯t want to be an adherent, because then he¡¯d have to give up being a noble in Dorchester. Nero felt a realization smack him in the face, and he leaned back in his chair in shock. ¡®Vera will definitely be staying in Dorchester, running her house. She and Nick both will be staying here. They won¡¯t be part of my adventuring party. How could I not have thought of that?¡¯ he asked himself while cringing at his mental lapse. Looking up at the academian, he said, ¡°We¡¯ll see how we get along. I might just take you up on your offer, but it won¡¯t be anytime soon.¡± Nero wasn¡¯t about to trust someone he barely knew. Especially not when the stakes were this high. He¡¯d gotten lucky with Nick and Vera. Every other noble he¡¯d met deserved every bit of his natural mistrust and suspicion. Moving on, Nero said, ¡°Alright, so by tomorrow night, I¡¯ll provisionally be a unique. Does that mean I can start accepting quests and requests from Dorchester, and get credits from the kingdom for completing them?¡± Nick nodded, and spoke up, ¡°Yes, but you first have to wait for the council of leadership to file an official request, thereby activating the quest. I imagine either the city lord or General Branson will want to talk with you to work out the details before they finalize anything.¡± Nero was about to ask Nick to help him speculate on how he could help the city while maximizing his benefits when they were interrupted. Scholar Idrius walked up and said, ¡°Please excuse the interruption, but we¡¯re ready for Lord Walker now. If you could follow me, my lord.¡± She then turned on her heel and walked off without another word. Despite her amiable smile, Nero had the suspicion that the woman was very much a ballbuster, and her gentle demeanor was skin deep, at best. Standing up, Academian Quincy said with a wide smile, ¡°Alright Nero, let¡¯s see what you can do! I have to admit, I¡¯m a little excited to see you in action.¡± Not knowing what they had in store for him, Nero just shrugged and said, ¡°I¡¯m not gonna make any promises, but dollars to donuts, you¡¯re gonna love it. Just ask Nick. I always leave them wanting more when I play lab monkey.¡± Chapter 180 - Doctors are literally there to judge you. Mike came to with a start. He immediately curled himself into a ball and started sobbing¡­ large heaving sobs. The healer who¡¯d resuscitated him didn¡¯t bother to even pat him on the back, or offer any semblance of emotional support after his traumatic experience. Instead, she hopped quickly to her feet and moved on to the next dead soldier waiting for another chance at life. Mike could hear the sounds of fighting off to his left. It was like a loud echo forcing him to remember what had happened. The bloody ground he was lying on shook occasionally from the artillery fire. Closing his eyes and clutching his hands to his ears, he tried and failed to block it all out. But his efforts to alleviate the pain he was feeling proved futile, as what he really feared wasn¡¯t the battle going on around him, it was the empty void he¡¯d just escaped. He could still feel the shadow of that emptiness inside him. It was awful. And unlike a nightmare, he could remember everything. Flashes and images from the memories of the kobalds over-running their position were like spell blasts going off in his head. He recalled with excruciating detail the feeling of his flesh splitting open under the kobald¡¯s spears. Rolling over onto his back, he stared up at the smoke-filled sky and tried to forcibly calm himself down by sheer force of will. The feeling of emptiness was fading quickly, his mind¡¯s natural defenses repressing the trauma as best they could. Reaching up, he touched the side of his neck which had been ripped open by a kobald¡¯s bite. Feeling his heart rate slow down, he finally felt composed enough to sit up. Looking around, he could see that his unit had been pulled back behind the barriers. Fresh, or at least fresher, troops were now holding their former position on the line. Even from this distance, he could see their strong backs piling up kobalds by the dozen. ¡®They must be one of the rapid reinforcement units. I suppose I have them to thank for being alive¡¯ he thought to himself, while not feeling particularly grateful at the moment. Still sitting on his ass, he closed his eyes and focused on centering himself. The mechanics of what he¡¯d gone through weren¡¯t unknown. He knew that he was just suffering the after-effects of what his remanent mind print experienced after his actual mind and soul were unseated from his body. He knew that had the healers not gotten to him in time, that imprint would have faded after his mind and soul lost their tether. It wasn¡¯t like he hadn¡¯t read the research¡­ everyone over the age of 14 had been given the talk by a family member, or at the very least by someone from either the Center or one of the Faiths. But none of that theoretical knowledge was much help to him at the moment. It couldn¡¯t compare the visceral experience of having his center forcibly ripped from his body. The memory of those few minutes of being trapped in a body without a soul, the overwhelming feeling of emptiness¡­ it was haunting. He could still feel the lack of identity, deep in his bones. ¡®Calm down. You just need to let your mind reintegrate with your brain. Breathe, Mike¡­ Breathe,¡¯ he told himself while mentally reviewing the recommended coping techniques he¡¯d memorized years ago. His pseudo-meditation was interrupted by the captain¡¯s loud voice overwhelming the sounds of battle. ¡°Form up on me!¡± Looking over his shoulder, he could see the battle-worn sergeant who¡¯d been leading them standing next to an equally ruffled Captain Durza. He had to give it to them, neither of them shied away from the battle. But, judging by their still intact armor, they most likely had managed to survive their most recent disaster. ¡®Lucky bastards,¡¯ he thought sourly. He forced himself to his feet, looking around for his weapons. Unsurprisingly, they were nowhere to be found. Glancing over his shoulder, he wondered if they were waiting for him under the pile of kobalds. Joining what was left of his unit, he and the other surviving members of his unit surrounded the captain and sergeant in a half circle. When Mike saw how few men and women were left, he felt his shoulders sag a little in defeat. Captain Durza¡¯s voice was hard, with no hint of remorse or compassion. ¡°As you all can see, we¡¯re down to 12 members. So, it shouldn¡¯t come as a surprise to any of you that the 39th Search and Clear team is being disbanded. After consulting with command, we¡¯re temporarily being merged with Penal Division 3.¡± Mike wasn¡¯t sure exactly what a Penal Division was doing out here on a battlefield, but it didn¡¯t sound good. And the groans of complaint he heard from what remaining comrades he had practically confirmed his fears. The captain held up his hand to quiet everyone down. ¡°I understand where you¡¯re coming from. I don¡¯t like it either. But at least you¡¯ll still be earning the combat rates you were getting while you were part of the S&C teams. When this battle finally ends, and we get back behind the walls, I¡¯ll make sure to see what I can do about getting you all transferred. You all have enough levels and skills that leaving you with those useless sacks of disappointment would amount to nothing more than an illogical waste of resources. But, until then, keep your mouths shut, heads down, and follow orders. Am I understood?¡± Mike along with everyone else replied, ¡°Yes, sir.¡± Captain Durza nodded once, then said, ¡°Alright, follow me.¡± before heading off at a brisk pace. Numbly following along, Mike absently patted his empty sheath. Frowning at the thought of having to settle for a sub-standard replacement, he tried to distract himself from thinking about it. Whispering to the pile of muscle and hate that was walking alongside him, otherwise known as Carl, he asked, ¡°What¡¯s wrong with joining one of the Penal Divisions? Isn¡¯t that where people with basic offenses like public intoxication and disorderly conduct end up? What are they even doing out here? Aren¡¯t maximum sentences there like two years?¡± The large man snorted, and replied, ¡°Yup. But during battles like this, Penal Divisions are used for basic work details. They¡¯re disposable troops or menial labor for bullshit duties. So, if we¡¯re lucky, we¡¯ll be posted in the back lines and ordered to act as support forces, digging latrines and ferrying supplies and such.¡± Mike thought that sounded like quite an upgrade from risking his life in the thick of the fighting. Yet, he still felt compelled to ask, ¡°And if we¡¯re unlucky?¡± Carl, who incidentally was still covered from head to toe in mud and blood, turned to look him in the eye and said, ¡°If we¡¯re unlucky, then we¡¯ll be assigned to a front-line position with a bunch of useless bastards who couldn¡¯t fight their way out of a paper bag. So, we¡¯ll most likely be holding the line with city-bred weaklings and people too stupid to pay their taxes. But, who knows, we might get lucky.¡± Mike grimaced and replied, ¡°Yeah¡­ I¡¯m not really comfortable relying on luck. I don¡¯t know about you, but I didn¡¯t end up here because I was suffering from an overabundance of good fortune. There¡¯s nobody up in any of the heavens wasting their influence blessing me, that¡¯s for sure.¡± ¡°Well, then you and I are probably going to be seeing each other in one of the infinite hells. Maybe we¡¯ll end up in one of the succubus-filled pleasure domes and we¡¯ll spend our brief afterlife getting what¡¯s left of our minds melted with pleasure before some demon swallows our souls and barters our mind imprints for whatever passes for a few valens down there!¡± he said with a dark laugh. The man¡¯s gravelly chuckle set Mike''s teeth on edge. Although he hadn¡¯t exactly been expecting an encouraging reply, he could have done without that particular image floating around in his head. ¡ª-- While Nero, Nick, and Academian Quincy were chatting, the rest of the evaluation team had been busy converting the lab equipment into various testing apparatus¡¯ to isolate and quantify Nero¡¯s unique ability. Or at least that¡¯s what they were supposed to have been doing. Love what you''re reading? Discover and support the author on the platform they originally published on. Apparently, it wasn¡¯t so easy to create tests for an ability so outside the norm. But, Nero wasn¡¯t complaining, as it was hilarious to see them arguing so aggressively in ¡®nerd speak¡¯. One of the evaluators, who from context he¡¯d learned was named Kyle, stood there with what could only be described as a ¡®pout¡¯ on his face. ¡°How can you say that? I used the Tolfiger model for the spectrum calibration. It will work just fine if you give it a chance!¡± Nero wasn¡¯t sure exactly what they arguing about, but he understood the basics. Two of the other evaluators, Josiah and Connie, had tattled on him to Academian Quincy. And now poor Kyle was defending his work. Josiah, with his chin in the air and his hands on his hips, declared, ¡°There is so substitute for on-site essence tuning. A spectrum analyzer configured to theoretical models would be less than useless under these conditions. We need a variance under .4 at least.¡± Connie, who was standing next Josiah in support, frowned as if she¡¯d been betrayed. Turning to look at Josiah, she hissed, ¡°I thought we were trying to get him to use the Kornikapin model? Why on earth do you want to waste time doing a local calibration? That would be a complete waste of time?¡± Between the two parties, Scholar Idrius and Academian Quincy were standing in judgment. Meanwhile, Nero was standing on an isolated testing platform several meters away, thoroughly enjoying witnessing these powerful people having a ¡®nerd fight¡¯. After the heavy, and mentally taxing lectures he¡¯d just received, it was good to see a sight that he was familiar with. Pointless arguing over subjective opinions was something he understood. It soothed his soul to see these confusing people acting like the humanity he recognized. While Nero was pondering over whether or not there was an essence of humanity, Academian Quincy stepped up to resolve the debate. ¡°Everyone calm down. It doesn¡¯t matter what model or calibration matrixes we use, as long as we¡¯re consistent with their application. If the essence filter and the collector both have the same calibration matrix, then we¡¯ll have a reliable method to record Lord Walker¡¯s perception of the ether.¡± Nero almost burst out laughing at the sight of the evaluators all looking equally unhappy with Quincy¡¯s apparently completely irrefutable point. After that, the little group broke apart to go attend to the various machines which they¡¯d be running. Nero, as a good little lab rat, kept his mouth shut and stood still on the platform. He wasn¡¯t even remotely surprised that no one had bothered to explain to him what was going to happen. Rather than spend more time mulling over everything he¡¯d learned, instead, he lost himself in memories of another time. The situation he was in reminded him of one of the more comical interactions he¡¯d had with the healthcare system back home. He¡¯d once had to go and get a physical for his company''s insurance. He¡¯d been forced to use one of the doctors from within their ¡®network¡¯, but he hadn¡¯t really cared at the time. He had just been happy to get access to the ¡®executive¡¯ insurance plans (Being promoted to store manager had its perks). Regardless, he¡¯d made his appointment, arrived on time, and been shown to a waiting room without issue. However, not five minutes later, an older man with a stethoscope around his neck and wearing a doctor''s coat, walked in while speed-reading his file. Briefly looking up from the manilla folder, the doctor had greeted him by saying, ¡°Alright, you can drop your pants, get up on the table, and lie down on your side.¡± While confused, he¡¯d still done as he was told. He hadn¡¯t been to a doctor since he was a teenager, and he could only assume that this was the standard procedure for adult males in a doctor''s office. He¡¯d watched enough TV to know what was coming, or at least enough so that it hadn¡¯t come as that much of a shock to him. Although, he¡¯d thought he was a little young for a prostate exam, but whatever. After all, it wasn¡¯t like he had been expecting chit-chat and a lollipop¡­ he was an adult now. The doctor had snapped on some gloves and then gave Nero the ¡®ole how-do-you-do. It had been exceedingly uncomfortable, and Nero had struggled to mirror the doctor¡¯s professional attitude. After it had all been said and done, Nero had pulled his pants back up and tried to keep his composure. He had taken comfort in the fact that the doctor was completely ignoring him while writing quickly in the folder. Looking up at Nero, he then told Nero everything was fine, and there was nothing for him to worry about. Of course, that had been great news. The bad news, however, had been that the doctor kept referring to him by the wrong name. It had turned out that the doctor had gone into the wrong room, and a 32-year-old Nero had NOT needed a prostate exam. The doctor had offered a perfunctory apology before storming off and yelling at some nurses, clearly blaming them for his mistake. Nero still remembered feeling conflicted about whether or not he should have made a big scene out of it. Yet, he had decided that the story was anecdote-worthy, so he¡¯d figured he could let it slide. Not to mention that it wouldn¡¯t have been too smart to argue with the guy who had been in charge of signing off on his ¡®executive¡¯ insurance plan. While Nero was recalling that experience, he thought about how many times he¡¯d told that story. Between bars and parties, first dates, and work functions, he must have told it a hundred times. It had always been met with chuckles, successfully breaking the ice wherever he¡¯d told it. But now that he was in a new world, a world with healing magic and a completely different healthcare system. Not to mention their incomprehensible lack of body issues. He would never be able to tell that story again. No one would get it. Suddenly, he felt very far from home. ¡°Nero, are you listening?¡± asked Nick loudly. Coming out of his thoughts, Nero looked down to see an annoyed Nick staring up at him with a frown on his face. All around the lab, he could see the evaluators looking at him with patient expressions on their faces, clearly waiting for him to do something, or maybe say something? ¡°Yup. I hear you. What is it you want me to do?¡± asked Nero, trying to keep his tone light. Scholar Idrius, from her perch behind some type of control console, replied, ¡°When the essence ejector on your right begins to emit its essence stream, we¡¯d like you to identify it with as much detail as possible.¡± Nero frowned. ¡®That¡¯s it?¡¯ he thought. ¡°Um¡­ Sure. I¡¯m ready when you are.¡± he said, suddenly feeling very bored. Glancing off to his right, he saw a massive machine come to life. It was about 7 feet wide and maybe 5 feet tall. It looked like one of those CNC machines he¡¯d seen in one of those industrial documentaries. The major difference was what he was seeing it do to the ambient essence all around it. Looking at what was happening with his field, he was very surprised to see the essence flows in the area begin converging on the humming machine. It looked like it was pulling in everything it could, before simply shooting it all out one of the exhaust ports on its side. He was about to question why they wanted him to identify a bundled essence stream of ¡®everything¡¯, until an ejector port he hadn¡¯t noticed shot a concentrated essence stream directly at him. Although he knew raw essence was harmless in this form, he still almost dropped to the floor to avoid being bisected. But, he managed to catch himself before he looked like an idiot and instead stood stiffly as the essence stream washed over him. He barely needed to interact with the stream to recognize it. It was so concentrated, that it was nearly shouting its identity at him. ¡°It¡¯s heat essence. Or thermal essence maybe? I don¡¯t know what you wanna call it, but it¡¯s an essence that deals with temperature,¡± he declared loudly. Scholar Idrius flicked a few control nobs or switches, and then asked, ¡°And this one?¡± Nero felt the essence flow being ejected from the machine change, and he said calmly, ¡°This one is some kind of plastic? Or maybe the essence of processing into plastic? Or acrylic?¡± This went on for over 10 minutes, and Nero decided to pull out his trusty tree stump from his personal space so that he could take a seat. Aside from a few looks of surprise from the evaluators and a glare from Nick, nobody seemed to have any objections. Essence after essence, he identified them all to the best of his ability. In a way, it was almost like trying to describe a series of cliches, or concepts. The concentrated streams were very loud, but not very specific with their metaphorical shouting. He wondered if this was what it felt like to take a Rorschach test. Without any warning, Scholar Idrius suddenly changed gears. ¡°Lord Walker, now we¡¯d like to see if you can direct the essence stream coming from your right into the appropriated relay on your left,¡± she said, her tone never wavering in the slightest. At this point, Nero had grown used to just doing what she¡¯d asked, so he thought nothing of it. He reached out to grab hold of the concentrated essence stream with his field. This one was something like ¡®lack of friction¡¯ or ¡®smoothness¡¯. He nearly started chuckling when he realized the irony of the essence stream being rather slippery. Yet, he persevered, and in no time at all, he successfully wrapped his essence field around it. Looking to his left, he saw a series of small holes in a giant box-looking machine. Each hole seemed to have an essence associated with it. Or more like there was an emptiness that matched a particular type of essence. The feeling reminded him of the inputs he¡¯d seen on spell-forms. With nothing more than a simple glance, he located the matching receptacle. Then, with a slight flexing of his field, he corralled the essence stream into an arc. The moment it attached itself to the hole, he felt the stream accept its new path through the ether without issue. Within the ethereal plane, it now looked like the ejector on the right was launching a curve ball at the other machine, and the essence stream was displaying its trajectory. With a smile at how easy that was, Nero refocused on Scholar Idrius and the rest of the evaluators. All of whom were now staring at him like he¡¯d grown a second head, or just declared himself a vegan while eating a stick of beef jerky. Nero¡¯s smile withered and he suddenly felt like he¡¯d somehow screwed up. Had he made a mistake? Immediately reaching out with his field and checking, he couldn¡¯t see where he¡¯d gone wrong. To him, it was like they¡¯d handed him one of those IQ tests for children - Put the square block in the square hole, Round block in the round hole, Triangle in the Triangle, etc. Easy. Simple. Seeing that they were all still staring at him with expressions ranging from shock to what might have been pride, Nero suddenly wasn¡¯t enjoying being a lab rat anymore. ¡®So, did I fuck up, or not?¡¯ he wondered. Before Nero could ask, Scholar Idrius flicked a few switches on her console and called out, ¡°Again, please.¡± Nero, hoping he hadn¡¯t just ruined his chances of being a unique, dutifully moved the new essence stream to its corresponding hole. ¡®Is that a ¡®not working¡¯ or ¡®broken¡¯ essence stream? How the hell does that work?¡¯ he wondered ironically, a little distracted by the odd conceptual type essence stream he¡¯d just futzed with. Once again, Scholar Idrius started cycling through various essence streams, having him direct them to a matching receptacle on the other machine. Then she switched to having him try to do two streams at the same time. That turned out to be much more difficult than he thought it would be. Somehow, the receptacles wouldn¡¯t lock onto the streams unless he adjusted them simultaneously. How they stopped him from doing just one after the other, he had no idea, but it definitely made the test exponentially more difficult. For the first time, he felt a little bit of a challenge, and he liked it. After he managed to figure out how to do two at once, Scholar Idrius switched to three. Nero had to close his eyes and concentrate to pull off that level ether manipulation. It was like trying to thread three needles, while holding two in his hands and one with his feet. Difficult was an understatement. Finally, when she calmly asked him to do four, he came out of the fugue he¡¯d fallen into. He opened his eyes and just stared at her with an expression amounting to, ¡®Seriously?¡¯ Academian Quincy called out, ¡°That¡¯s enough.¡± Nero watched him walk out from behind some monitoring equipment. Although the man was smiling, his expression could have either been congratulatory or conciliatory. Nero suddenly realized why he was having so much trouble reading everyone. He could no longer feel their essence fields. Something about the platform he was on was isolating him. He hadn¡¯t realized he¡¯d grown so used to ¡®feeling¡¯ what everyone was feeling. Not willing to remain in ignorance, he nearly shouted, ¡°Well? Say something dammit!¡± Chapter 181 - Recognizing whats always been there. The king rubbed his temples, trying to alleviate the headache which had been plaguing him all morning. Too much was happening in too many places that he had to pay attention to. Even with his prodigious mind, he was having trouble keeping it all straight in his head. Currently, he was sitting at his desk, reviewing the paperwork that had piled up during his absence. For the past two weeks, he¡¯d been diving the ¡®Fields of Oppression¡¯ with several members of his harem. As usual, they¡¯d dragged him into the thick of the fighting, nearly collapsing the entire dungeon with their antics. Despite trying to limit himself to only a few hours a day of combat, they just wouldn¡¯t let him hide in his tent and work. ¡®Battle junkies, every one of them,¡¯ he mentally groused as he recalled his wife, Marrisa, laughing her ass off while shoving Helen and the others into his private rooms in their adventuring tent. He could only thank the heavens that the dwarven delegation finally arrived, forcing his harem to cut their adventure short. There was just so much that he needed to do. His plans for the Tower of Fate were progressing rapidly. That business with the centaurs was finally coming to a head. One of his sons, Prince Benjamin, had somehow gotten it into his head to study fateweaving. And Lord Strattings has finally started investigating the nobles in Dorchester¡¯s surrounding cities. His plans for the Strates were finally coming together. Every one of these matters needed to be handled with the utmost delicacy if he wanted to keep everything running smoothly. Not everything was progressing according to plan though. He¡¯d expected Lord Walker to be advanced to the status of a ¡®hero¡¯, not a ¡®unique¡¯. Although the difference is academic at the moment, in the future, it could end up being a problem. Unique citizens were able to start houses wherever they wanted, while Heroes were tethered to their home city. The anomaly that was Lord Walker was supposed to stay put. Too many plans required him to act¡­ and act soon at that. By now, the king had expected Lord Walker to already be heading toward the front lines, destabilizing portals and breaking through the kobald¡¯s mirage technique as he spearheaded Dorchester¡¯s army¡¯s assault into the mountain. ¡®It doesn¡¯t matter. A plan that is unable to adapt is doomed to fail,¡¯ he told himself. Firming his brow, he started sending out updates and orders across his kingdom. ¡ª-- ¡°Lord Walker? Are you alright?¡± asked Academian Quincy. After Nero¡¯s outburst, everyone was now looking at him with some concern. Nero, now having pinpointed what was making him feel off-balance, replied, ¡°I¡¯m fine, I think. But can I get down from this platform now?¡± Academian Quincy replied quickly, ¡°Of course. Do you need anything? Does utilizing your ability cause you any stress?¡± Nero, barely listening to anything after ¡®of course¡¯, hopped down from the platform without delay. The moment he crossed the platform¡¯s outer edge, the subtle sense of his surroundings he¡¯d been missing returned. Now that he was ¡®looking¡¯ for it, he couldn¡¯t believe he hadn¡¯t noticed when it had been blocked off. With wide eyes, he looked around the lab at Nick, Quincy, and the various evaluators. Where before they were complete mysteries, just nameless faces watching him during his testing, their judgmental looks causing him to feel isolated and alone; now, they were once again ¡®people¡¯, their emotions clearly on display for him to interpret and sympathize with. Even Academian Quincy, whose essence field was tightly controlled, still exuded something of an emotional presence into the ether. Nero realized it wasn¡¯t so much the lack of being able to feel their emotions, but that without being able to see them in the ethereal plane, his brain was having trouble treating them as ¡®real¡¯. It felt like he was surrounded by uncaring robots, and it reminded him of how he used to feel when he was back on Earth. Simultaneously surrounded by people, but completely on his own. Nick¡¯s voice brought him out of his thoughts. ¡°Nero? What¡¯s the matter with you?¡± he asked. Nero looked up at his friend, and couldn¡¯t stop himself from smiling. He could actually ¡®feel¡¯ the man¡¯s concern through the ethereal plane. Now that he knew what to look for, he could actually ¡®see¡¯ the waves of emotion coloring the essence flows. It was like each person was a marker in a pool. Their presence, or identity, was slowly leaking into the ether¡­ spreading out almost imperceptibly. Yet, no matter how many people there were in a small area, there was no cross-contamination. It was like everyone was operating on their own frequency, and Nero could trace back who was feeling what just as easily as if he were following a trail. Nero, now finally calming down, replied, ¡°Sorry about that. I just didn¡¯t realize that the platform would cut me off from the ether so completely. I can¡¯t believe how much I¡¯ve gotten used to being connected to everyone.¡± Immediately after saying that out loud, Nero cringed. While he had meant that literally, it sounded incredibly metaphorical, and touchy-feely when put into words. Luckily, Academian Quincy was there to interpret Nero¡¯s ridiculous statement. ¡°The testing platform we were using has an identity filter, if that¡¯s what you¡¯re asking about. We needed to ensure that no outside essence signatures were there to accurately test whether or not you could identify an essence flow with just your perception field. What exactly did you notice, and how did it effect you?¡± he asked, his inner scientist threatening to come out. Nero rolled his shoulders to release some of the tension. ¡°It was weird. When I first got up there, I didn¡¯t feel anything. In fact, it felt comfortable and familiar, which should have been my first clue that something was wrong. But, when the testing started, I started getting this unsettled feeling that everyone was out there judging me. I just couldn¡¯t figure out what you all were thinking. It slowly became more and more important for me to ¡®know¡¯ what you all thought about my performance. It was almost like a compulsion or something,¡± he said, trying to put into words the trippy feeling he¡¯d just dealt with. Scholar Idrius walked up to join them, asking, ¡°And now?¡± Nero smiled at her, replying, ¡°Now? I¡¯m back to not caring at all what you think. Which is also weird, I think?¡± Nick seemed like he was about to say something, but Academian Quincy placed a hand on his shoulder and gestured for him to wait. Looking Nero in the eye, he said, ¡°I think this is a symptom of your ability. If we take into consideration the fact that you can naturally interpret essence flows by their nature with just a look, it stands to reason that you can do something similar with the minute traces of essence our centers give off. You probably just ¡®feel¡¯ like you already know what we¡¯re thinking, so you no longer care about asking us anything.¡± Nero opened his mouth to reply, but then sharply closed it, opting to take a moment to think before he spoke. Nick, not willing to wait, chimed in, ¡°Nero, have you been constantly scanning people¡¯s essence fields?¡± Nero replied, ¡°No? I don¡¯t think I have. It¡¯s not like I really know what people are thinking if that¡¯s what you¡¯re asking. I just kinda got used to ¡®feeling¡¯ a person in addition to just seeing them with my eyes. Hey, does this have something to do with how Cathleen can always sneak up on me?¡± Scholar Idrius grabbed one of Nero¡¯s shoulders and spun him not-so-gently so that he was facing her. Locking eyes with him, she ordered, ¡°Lord Walker, keep your eyes on me. In fact, put your entire focus on me.¡± As she spoke, she took a few steps back so Nero could see her better. When she was about two meters away, she said, ¡°Now, tell me if you notice anything.¡± Nero could feel Nick and Quincy smirking off to his left, but he maintained his focus on Scholar Idrius. He was about to ask her to clarify what he was supposed to be seeing, when all of the sudden she changed. One second, she looked totally normal, then the next, she was the same person, but also a stranger. Nothing about her physically changed at all, but she ¡®felt¡¯ like she wasn¡¯t there. Stolen from its rightful place, this narrative is not meant to be on Amazon; report any sightings. Cocking his head to the side, he strained with all his senses to try and ¡®see¡¯ what was going on. Then, like a flower blossoming, she came back into focus. Her presence once again reasserted itself into the ethereal plane. Dropping his jaw in shock, Nero nearly shouted, ¡°What the fuck!?! How did you do that? What did you just do?¡± Out of all the magical things he¡¯d seen since he¡¯d arrived here in Dorchester, this was the most ¡®magical¡¯ thing he¡¯d ever witnessed. Quite possibly it was because he couldn¡¯t understand what he was seeing, or not seeing. He had no idea of how she¡¯d done whatever it was she just did¡­ not even a clue. Scholar Idrius nodded once as if she¡¯d successfully confirmed her hypothesis. Turning to Nick and Quincy, she declared, ¡°He¡¯s a natural sensor.¡± Nero, not exactly happy about hearing another title that he didn¡¯t understand, asked, ¡°And what, pray tell, is a natural sensor?¡± Being the ever-helpful font of information that he is, Nick replied, ¡°A natural sensor is someone whose essence signature tends to easily connect with those around him. It¡¯s not terribly uncommon, and usually just means that you¡¯d be good at some of the more social techniques associated with essence manipulation.¡± Academian Quincy was rubbing his chin in thought. ¡°I don¡¯t think he¡¯s actually a sensor. I think this is just an aspect of his ability. Sensors reach out, usually due to childhood trauma, or as a result of intense training. Nero¡¯s field isn¡¯t doing that. Instead, he¡¯s just easily interpreting what others are putting out into the ether. It¡¯s like he¡¯s a natural ¡®delver¡¯.¡± Nick, never one to pass up the opportunity to correct someone, replied quickly, ¡°That¡¯s not a thing.¡± Quincy shrugged, not caring if it wasn¡¯t. ¡°It¡¯s as good a term as any other. You have a better explanation as to how he does what he does?¡± Nero frowned in thought. He still hadn¡¯t been told how he¡¯d done during his evaluation. Just a few minutes ago, it had seemed so important. Now, he couldn¡¯t care less. While he didn¡¯t mind being a little scatterbrained and unpredictable, he didn¡¯t like the possibility that he wasn¡¯t in control of his emotions. Trying to get them to focus on the real-world consequences of their theories and hypotheticals, he asked, ¡°So, how is me being able to ¡®sense¡¯ people connected to the little freak-out I just had? One minute, I needed to know what you were thinking, and then¡­ nothing.¡± Quincy replied, ¡°I think this was a situational event. You had been heavily relying on your other senses, and just not realizing it. When those senses failed you, it must have felt like you¡¯d been blinded. Now that you are familiar with the feeling, I think you¡¯ll be able to handle it much better in the future.¡± Nero nodded, hoping that would prove to be the case. ¡°OK. But, what exactly was it that Scholar Idrius did just then? How did she make herself disappear in my senses like that? It was like she was there, but she wasn¡¯t.¡± Scholar Idrius, her voice still maintaining that calm scientific tenor, replied, ¡°I merely cut myself from the ethereal plane. Think of it as isolating myself from the essence around me.¡± Nero shivered at the thought of how that would feel. He¡¯d come to feel almost ¡®hugged¡¯ by the world around him, and the thought of cutting himself off like that made his skin crawl. Nick chimed in, ¡°There are massive downsides to that technique. While it is a viable method for hiding oneself in the ether, it also removes a person¡¯s ability to interact with essence. No magic, no protection. It is a technique that strips a person bare of their fields and leaves them at the mercy of the world around them.¡± Nero nodded, imagining that it was much like a person pulling their identity into their body, and losing the protection of their essence field. Coming to an obvious conclusion, Nero asked, ¡°So, that¡¯s obviously not what Cathleen is doing. Which of course begs the question, what is she doing to hide from me like that?¡± Nick shrugged as if he had no idea. But Academian Quincy replied, ¡°I¡¯m guessing she¡¯s infusing her field with a desire for people to not pay attention to her. It¡¯s a technique used for infiltration and hunting. It¡¯s not all that difficult to do, but it does require a better than average skill level in ¡®essence field control¡¯.¡± Nero tried to wrap his head around this most recent revelation. It was like a whole new field of study, one that he¡¯d been aware of, but put off learning about. People¡¯s fields were their identities given form, and control of them could probably do any number of crazy things. He¡¯d stopped bothering with telekinesis and had for the most part been focusing on his perception abilities. Maybe that had been a mistake? He should probably put some more effort into determining everything that his fields can do. The evaluators took the lull in conversation as an opportunity to present their findings. For whatever reason, it was Connie who ended up being pushed to the front of the group. After quickly glaring at the other evaluators behind her, Scholar Connie staggered forward and said, ¡°Pardon the interruption, but we¡¯ve finished the report for our initial findings.¡± Nero, semi-interested in what she had to say, looked up at her with a smile. Scholar Idrius and Nick both looked at her expectantly, while Academian Quincy simply asked, ¡°Anything of note, or outside of our projections?¡± Connie, while referencing something that looked suspiciously like a computer tablet, replied, ¡°Lord Walker is confirmed to be able to identify essence streams. He also is confirmed to be able to manipulate them individually. There was minimal identity leakage during the manipulation tests. We were unable to determine how he can do it, but we can confirm that he is doing it. We¡¯d like some time to go over the data, and determine how best to proceed.¡± Nero asked, ¡°What do you mean ¡®proceed¡¯? Didn¡¯t this prove that I can do¡­ whatever it is you say I can do?¡± Academian Quincy chuckled and replied, ¡°Yes, it is enough to get your provisional title. However, there are still some tests we¡¯d like to perform.¡± Nick, feeling excited about the idea of further testing, asked, ¡°Are you going to try and isolate his field strength numbers? Or are you more concerned about his application density?¡± Scholar Connie replied quickly, ¡°I believe we should first focus on tracking his essence dispersal rate. If we can determine how he can interact with essence flows without tainting them with his identity, then we can possibly recreate it in the lab. From there, we could revolutionize the field of mechanized casting.¡± Scholar Idrius, while nodding along, added, ¡°That¡¯s a good point. If we could remove the identity bleed, we¡¯d be able to run a shield generator as if it were lossless casting. That would change the face of modern warfare as we know it.¡± Nero, not even remotely understanding the connection, asked, ¡°Can one of you explain what exactly it is that you are all so excited about? Better yet, explain to me why what I¡¯m doing is so special, because I¡¯m getting a little fed up with being the only one not impressed with myself.¡± Nick, as usual, stepped up to translate. ¡°Nero, we¡¯ve explained to you how most people see and interact with essence, right?¡± Nero replied, ¡°Yes. Most people see it as clouds, or more like intersecting fog banks. And I see it as individual streams. I get that part. But, I¡¯m still having trouble seeing why it matters.¡± Nick, not discouraged, said, ¡°It matters because you are able to pick and choose which stream you want to interact with. That¡¯s not normal. Remember how when you first started doing magic, we couldn¡¯t understand how you were using the ambient essence to cast your spell forms?¡± Nero nodded, paying close attention to what Nick was saying. Nick continued, ¡°Well, that¡¯s because people can¡¯t really do that. Essence streams and flows are brought into spell forms by their included inputs. The creation of a spell form determines which essence streams are brought in to fuel them. The fact that you can manually determine what streams are being connected into the spell-form allows you to change what the spell does with alarming versatility.¡± Caught up in the excitement, Scholar Connie added, ¡°And not just that! The way you interact with the essence streams is also worth noting. Most people, when they connect to an essence stream, they mix their identity into it, thereby claiming it and gaining control over it. It is required before a spell can call upon a particular type of essence. For example, if someone wants to perform a basic ¡®ice spike¡¯ spell, then they must first assert their control of both ¡®heat¡¯ and ¡®water¡¯ essence streams. Only after they join with them can their spell-form call upon them for the creation of its ¡®ice spike¡¯. For simple spells it doesn¡¯t matter all that much, but for more complicated castings, intense study and meditation are usually required,¡± By the time she was done speaking, she was nearly out of breath from talking so quickly. Academian Quincy picked up the explanation. ¡°You, however, don¡¯t seem to have that limitation. You seem to be able to grab hold of essence streams and manipulate them without leaving any of your identity behind. It¡¯s a very interesting development.¡± Nero, thinking quickly, asked, ¡°Wouldn¡¯t me not infusing the essence streams with my center make my spells weak?¡± Nodding, Academian Quincy replied, ¡°Yes, in a way, that¡¯s true. But, it isn¡¯t like you can¡¯t infuse your center into your spells, it¡¯s just that you don¡¯t have to. To be honest, I¡¯m not sure of all the ramifications that your unique talent will lead to. We¡¯ll have to spend some time theory-crafting and testing how to best utilize your ability.¡± Nero decided that sounded like a logical endpoint to the conversation, and pounced on it. ¡°Alright, so you guys do that then. Try and figure out some ideas on what I could theoretically do with my ¡®gift¡¯ or whatever. In the meantime, am I right in assuming that I am now a provisional unique?¡± Scholar Idrius replied, ¡°Not yet. We still have to file everything. By tomorrow morning, it should be taken care of.¡± Nodding, Nero replied, ¡°That¡¯s good enough. Let¡¯s get that done, then in the morning I can deal with Cathleen and the guards¡­ mercenaries¡­ soldiers? Whatever you want to call them. Then, by tomorrow afternoon, I want to sit down with the general and get myself an official quest.¡± Nick looked more than a little surprised to see Nero stepping up and sounding like a leader. ¡°So, you¡¯ve made your decision on what you¡¯re going to do?¡± Nero nodded. However long he¡¯d been cut off from the world while on the testing platform had reminded him what he¡¯d felt like without his magic. Even though he was playing with essence streams, without the sense of companionship and purpose that seemed to bleed off everyone around him, he felt like the loner he used to be all those months ago. Now, here in Dorchester, having developed a friendship with Nick, and a slight feeling of belonging among the citizenry, he felt the need to join the proverbial cause of humanity. Or at least, that¡¯s what he told himself. In a world like this, there was an ¡®actual¡¯ sense of community. While freaky, it was also kind of pleasant. But that wouldn¡¯t stop him from looking out for number one. Firming his voice, Nero declared, ¡°I¡¯m gonna stay here in Dorchester for a while. While Nick and Vera won¡¯t be part of my party, they will always be part of House Walker. I won¡¯t let them fight the kobalds and the density shift on their own. I¡¯ll stick around and do what I can. If I¡¯m able to do stuff no one else can, and if I¡¯m allowed to do it due to my ¡®uniqueness¡¯, then I might as well get paid for it. So, step one is getting the Walker adventuring club a quest¡­ Wait, that will be step two. Step one will be forming the club. So, in the morning, if the paperwork is handled, I¡¯ll put together a roster and see what we¡¯re working with.¡± Nick, amused, asked, ¡°The Walker Adventuring Club?¡± Nero looked at Nick like he was an uncultured swine. ¡°Every adventuring party needs a name. We can workshop it later. Until then, I¡¯m going with the W.A.C.¡± Academian Quincy¡¯s smile was wide enough to cause his eyes to squint. ¡°I¡¯m sure it will be quite the successful adventuring party. In the meantime, I¡¯d recommend you head back to the Verina estate and get some sleep. I¡¯ll make sure that we get your paperwork filed for you.¡± Narrowing his eyes at the man, he said, ¡°Everything goes through Vera first. If she signs off on it, then you¡¯re good to go. It¡¯s not as if I don¡¯t trust you, but I don¡¯t trust you. So, please, considering how vengeful and petty I am¡­ don¡¯t do something that ruins our budding friendship.¡± Academian Quincy¡¯s smile didn¡¯t falter at all. ¡°Of course, Nero. We¡¯ll make sure to prove worthy of your trust. Thank you for going along with our tests. Rest assured, your results are more than enough for us to begin our work on your behalf. Leave it to us.¡± Nodding in thanks, he turned to Nick and said, ¡°Let¡¯s go get some sleep. By the way, you¡¯re paying for the teleportation. I left my wallet in my other robe.¡± Nick frowned in confusion and replied, ¡°Wallet? Why do you have a wallet? You can pay for things through your link. You have your link on you, don¡¯t you?¡± Nero, already a few steps toward the door waved it off and replied over his shoulder, ¡°Nick, I¡¯m dissolving my house and giving you and your wife most of my stuff. You can pay for my damn teleportation. And, on the way, I want some candy. I just had an exam¡­ I¡¯m owed candy.¡± Nick shared a few confused glances with the evaluators, but soon shrugged it off and ran after Nero to catch up. He may not always understand what Nero was talking about, but he hadn¡¯t had candy in ages¡­ Vera didn¡¯t like sweets. Chapter 182 - Getting your mind right before breakfast. While in many ways, dwarves and humans were very much alike, in others, they were drastically different. As a race, dwarves tended to be forthright and honest. That is to say, they considered lying and scheming both a waste of time and cowardly. So, it wasn¡¯t a surprise to anyone when Ambassador Ironwick protested vociferously when he was promoted to his position. No dwarf in their right mind would want to go deal with the lying, thieving humans infesting the surface world. Yet, despite his many protests, his numerous victories in the challenge hall, and his loudly shouted threats that he would do everything in his power to ruin their relations with the humans, he was still promoted to Ambassador and sent on his merry way. Several weeks of travel, along with a few teleports, led to the ambassador finally arriving in Hennings. Grumbling loudly, Ambassador Ironwick stomped through wooden hallways toward the meeting. He could ¡®feel¡¯ the dwarves behind him silently laughing their beards off at his poorly hidden wrath. With his stubby, armor-encased, legs stomping into the room, he wasn¡¯t surprised to see everyone turning to watch him enter. Seeing members of the dwarven contingent sitting off to one side, he turned on his heel and marched over to them. Not even bothering to wait for them to reorganize the seating, he grabbed the first dwarf within range, hauled him up out of his chair, and tossed him over his shoulder. Before the poor dwarf even hit the ground, Ironwick had already hopped up into the now-empty chair and glared at everyone around him. Across from the 5 seats for the dwarves, 5 human nobles were sitting in all their finery, looking like the wastes of minerals that they were. Off to the side sat the king on his throne, watching over everything with a blank look on his face. Ironwick scowled, as seeing someone hiding their emotions was tantamount to them declaring, ¡®I¡¯m going to lie to you, so don¡¯t bother listening to a word I say!¡¯ The king, well aware of how ¡®real¡¯ dwarves viewed humans, greeted him, ¡°Ambassador Ironwick, thank you for joining us. I¡¯m sorry to hear that none of the Shattershields were willing to make the trip. But, I¡¯m happy to have you here representing them. It¡¯s been many years, but I remember you quite well.¡± Ironwick¡¯s scowl turned into a frown, as he didn¡¯t remember ever meeting the king. ¡°Oi, you claiming we met before?¡± The king nodded, allowing a small smile to adorn his face. ¡°It was during the fire demon incursion at the Temple of Mourning. I was serving as a captain under General Abernathy.¡± Raising his eyebrows in surprise, Ambassador Ironwick looked deep into his memories and found the king¡¯s much younger-looking eyes staring at him from across a table laden with maps and war documents. ¡°Aye, I remember you now. By the gods boy, how are you still alive? I thought you humans only lived a few centuries,¡± he said while smiling fondly at the memory of the battered and blood-covered young man standing tall in front of a fire demon. Although the nobles looked quite offended, the king took the dwarf''s question at face value and replied, ¡°For the most part, that¡¯s true. However, there are a few of us who manage to live to see 1000.¡± Nodding, Ambassador Ironwick decided that the human king wasn¡¯t as much of a disappointment as he¡¯d thought he¡¯d be. Perhaps he should have actually read that briefing packet he¡¯d been given. ¡®Bah, it doesn¡¯t matter. The fiddly bits will work themselves out,¡¯ he told himself. Pulling out a flask from the dimensional pocket on his hip, Ironwick asked, ¡°So, I¡¯m told that you lot want to renegotiate the terms of the treaty. If I¡¯m not wrong, the current one is supposed to hold for another 300 years. Now, normally, I¡¯d just tell ye to bugger off and be done with ya. But, for the battle honors you¡¯ve earned in defense of my people, I¡¯ll hear what ye have to say. So, speak king, and tell me what you want.¡± The dwarven contingent was mostly made up of dwarves who¡¯d spent a significant amount of time above ground. All of them had gotten used to how humans do things, and as a group, they all collectively face-palmed at having their ambassador embarrass them so completely. Dwarven society was complicated, but at its core, it was based around clans and their leaders. Their personal honor and accomplishments meant everything to them, coming second only to their responsibility to their clan. So, for surface-based dwarfs, they were caught between the societal need to respect a powerful elder like Ironwick, and their desire to succeed at their duty as envoys. The king saw all, and he knew that despite the envoys being essentially shorter human nobles, dwarven policymakers were all gruff warriors and blacksmiths who were not made for leadership halls and politics. Dwarves with real power would have never been assigned to serve their clans above ground. He could waste hours speaking with the envoys, but unless he convinced the ambassador, his efforts would be wasted. When it came right down to it, dwarves followed their clans, and their clans followed the will of their leader. Here, now, Ironwick was acting as the clan chief¡¯s representative, and he¡¯s who the king had to convince. A dwarf like him preferred straight talk, and respected actions, not words. ¡°I¡¯d like for clan Shattershield to open up their passes through the Oakentree Mountains. We, as a people, would like access so that we may expand into the Fields of Rock. In return, we¡¯ll increase our trade obligations and allow you to expand East into our kingdom. We¡¯re willing to join a few more sub-cities and expand our treaty to include more companion cities,¡± he said, keeping his voice calm but firm. Ironwick¡¯s hard face didn¡¯t move a muscle. But everyone could see the gears turning in his head. The room sat in silence as Ironwick calmly tapped one of his gauntleted fingers on the table in a slow but steady rhythm. Months and months of talks and planning had led up to the king making this proposal to someone with the power to actually approve it. Yet, patience was the key to dealing with dwarves, so the room remained in silence as the Ambassador considered how he wanted to answer the king¡¯s proposal. ¡ª-- Nero¡¯s peaceful sleep was continuously interrupted by Vera pinging him. And when he got fed up and stopped answering her, she came directly into his room and shoved the papers he needed to sign directly in his face. There was no escaping her. But, eventually, it all worked out. The paperwork was filed, and Nero was provisionally raised to the status of a unique citizen. ¡®Big whoop,¡¯ he thought to himself. As it was now almost dawn, Nero gave up on getting any more sleep. So, instead, he decided to tackle the experience he felt weighing down on his center. He¡¯d come to think of it as an empty kiddy pool attached to his soul, which filled itself up from the random encounters and situations he kept finding himself in. Even though it had only been a few days since he¡¯d leveled, he still had a few realizations and personal revelations that he needed to work through. So, seeing as he had a few hours before he¡¯d planned on doing anything, he decided to go through what he could in the time he had available. As usual, he laid down on his bed and let his mind sink into his inner world. Returning to his cobblestone path, he looked around to see a fresh batch of memories waiting for processing. Surprisingly, it wasn¡¯t nearly as bad as he thought it would be. Digging in, he started with a random memory which was surprisingly his first encounter with ¡®the rippers¡¯, who were the army division sent to escort him back to Dorchester. Replaying the memory led to more than a few chuckles, and a broadened perspective as to what it meant to be in the army. He cycled through his meeting with the first evaluator lady, and then carefully reviewed his conversations with Nick and Academian Quincy. Then came the memories of his conversation with Arch-mage Jennings. Once again confronted with the memory of the arch-mage explaining in detail why every one of his choices had consequences far beyond anything he could imagine, let alone understand. As he remembered the weight of responsibility bearing down on him, Nero felt the sky in his inner world darken. The air on his cobble-stone path became chilly, and the woods around him looked a little more dangerous than they did when he arrived. Seeing the visual representation of his inner fears being given form, Nero responded in the only way he knew how¡­ that is to say with insults and anger. Glaring at the cloud-covered sky, Nero shouted, ¡°I call bullshit! I refuse to ¡®internalize¡¯ this type of crap. Sure, my choices have consequences, so what?!? I will not be held accountable for other people sucking. If I¡¯m gonna take responsibility for something, then it damn well will be someone I¡¯ve personally done. I¡¯m gonna do whatever the hell that I want, and however the rest of the world responds to my actions is up to them. So bring back the sun, as I¡¯m not leaving here until I purge this emo-charged bullshit from whatever this place is supposed to represent!¡± Like a switch was flipped, the clouds in the sky broke apart, revealing the sun again. The shadows lightened, and the woods returned to their enchanting beauty. Nodding in appreciation, Nero stood with his hands on his hips and congratulated himself on not embracing the responsibility of managing other people¡¯s stupidity. Stolen story; please report. Doing his final review of everything he¡¯d ¡®experienced¡¯, Nero focused on trying to look at things from a wider perspective, setting their local beliefs in a context he could understand. It wasn¡¯t easy, but by the time he was done, he was able to think of himself as a ¡®unique¡¯ without wanting to punch himself in the balls for being overdramatic. Coming out of his inner world, he opened his eyes to stare at his identity panel.
Name Nero Walker Level 15
Race Human Growth 48%
Tier 1 Condition 100%
Age 14 Center 100%
Body 4 Mind 5
Soul 2 Confluence 11
Stars 0 Pillars 2 / 1
Nero frowned at his lackluster progress. Then he immediately chided himself for being greedy. It wasn¡¯t like he should have expected a level from just trying to wrap his head around how they do things here in Oglivarch. If anything, he should be happy that he progressed as much as he did. Checking the time, he saw that it was now almost 7:30 am. All in all, he¡¯d had about 6 hours of broken sleep. Which, when he looked at it objectively wasn¡¯t all that bad. Deciding that he might as well start his day, he took a shower and got dressed. For the first time in a while, he opted not to wear his combat gear. Instead, he pulled out the enchanted robes Nick and Vera had given him a couple of months ago. Looking at himself in the mirror, Nero frowned at the bland gray robes. He knew that gray represented neutrality or something, but he really wasn¡¯t in the mood to look like a 5¡¯ 4¡¯¡¯ stick of chalk. Between his white hair, pale complexion, and his abnormally blue eyes, he came to the obvious conclusion that gray was not his color. Mentally tossing the subject to the back of his head, he left his room in search of breakfast. Two short hallways and a couple of turns led him back to the living room they¡¯d been meeting in. Snorting as if he saw exactly what he¡¯d been expecting, Nero looked around to see everyone already up and spread out enjoying their breakfast. Nick, Vera, Quincy, and Idrius were all sharing a table, probably discussing something that he¡¯d eventually end up having to deal with. Groups of mercenaries were spread out around different couches and tables, all equidistant from Cathleen, Rose, and another woman who Nero remembered being introduced to as their leader. ¡®Her name is Keening or something like that,¡¯ he thought to himself as he scanned the room. Continuing to look around, Nero noticed that there were a few of the estate¡¯s servants floating through the room, refilling food trays and replacing half-full pitchers. Yet, he didn¡¯t see the rest of the evaluators. ¡®What are they up to? Maybe still dealing with the paperwork or something?¡¯ he wondered. ¡°Nero, I¡¯m glad to see you embracing getting up at a decent hour. Come, have some breakfast before we get started,¡± said Vera, her volume loud enough to cut through the room, but falling just short of turning into a shout. Amused at Vera¡¯s demanding tone, Nero made his way over to their table. After offering everyone a polite nod in place of a greeting, he sat down and started filling up his plate with pastries from the tray in the center of the table. Around him, the conversation continued on without him. Quincy and Idrius were discussing their living arrangements at the keep, questioning if Vera and Nick had a problem putting them up while Nero was staying at the estate. Vera, of course, pretended to be delighted to have them, stating categorically that scholars from the Royal Academy were always welcome within the walls of House Verena. Then came the predictable trading of compliments. ¡®Your home is lovely¡¯, ¡®It must be exciting living in the capital¡¯, ¡®It¡¯s a shame you won¡¯t be traveling with Lord Walker¡¯, blah blah blah. Nero looked up at that last one, giving Nick and Vera a glance that tried to convey his understanding. He now knew what his being a unique meant for their little pseudo-family. They¡¯d only been together for a few months, but they learned to trust each other enough to rely on one another. Nick coughed into his hand to clear his throat, and said, ¡°Yes, well, Nero won¡¯t be going anywhere anytime soon. And when he does, he knows that we¡¯ll be here if he needs us. Technically, we¡¯re now a branch of House Walker, so this is his home now too.¡± Vera, ever the pragmatist, added, ¡°Although, he still has the estate he acquired from the noble war with the Dorchens. That is in actuality his home. Which reminds me,¡± she turned to look at Nero and asked, ¡°Do you want to move there? Or shall I tell the staff there to continue treating it as an unused holding?¡± Nero, mid-chew with a pastry, looked up at her with some confusion. After swallowing, he asked, ¡°What does that mean? We¡¯re not gonna fire them all, are we? I thought I had enough money coming in to let them carry on with their duties and whatnot.¡± Vera nodded, and replied, ¡°You could. Technically, they are now all employees of House Verena. And as the lady of the house, I don¡¯t like seeing wasted potential. So, if you¡¯re not going to be staying there, I¡¯ll be transferring them to other positions. Having them perform upkeep on an empty estate is pointless, and more than a little wasteful.¡± Nero was happy to hear that the employees he¡¯d been ignoring were now in Vera¡¯s capable hands. ¡°No, that¡¯s fine. If you don¡¯t mind me staying here, then you can do whatever you want with them. In fact, do I even really need the estate? Do you guys want it?¡± Academian Quincy butted in, ¡°Actually Nero, that estate is now your formal residence within Dorchester. You can think of it like an embassy of sorts, but just for your personal house.¡± Nero wasn¡¯t sure exactly what that meant, but rather than ask for clarification, he decided to skip to the end, ¡°So, I need to keep it?¡± Everyone around the table nodded, while Vera added, ¡°Yes, Nero. You need to keep it. The purpose of an estate is to -¡± Shrugging, he interrupted her before she got going. ¡°Fine with me. I¡¯ll keep the place. Moving on!¡± After a few seconds of silence where no one chose to bring up a new topic, Nero asked, ¡°So, all the paperwork and crap is filed? No problems?¡± Scholar Idrius replied, ¡°Everything is filed, and it turned out exactly as expected. You¡¯re now a provisional unique until such time as our evaluation is completed and your updated file is closed. For now, you are a unique in principle, and therefore due all the rights and benefits that your position entitles you to.¡± Nero raised an eyebrow at that, as it sounded like a statement that should come with a plaque or maybe a medal¡­ at the very least a few balloons and a card. Academian Quincy joined in, by adding, ¡°You can now legally acquire adherents, choose your personal house¡¯s colors and words, and formally refer to yourself as Lord Walker. You now are, in fact, a lord. You are no longer under the trials, and your rights are no longer provisional in regards to your standing as a new noble.¡± Nero frowned as thought of something. ¡°So, am I no longer under the protection of the royals? Not that it really stopped anyone from trying to kill me, but whatever.¡± Academian Quincy replied, ¡°That¡¯s correct. Your protection under the accords governing new nobles no longer applies. That being said, I doubt anyone would bother trying to kill you at this point. It would be both counter-productive for Dorchester¡¯s well-being, and not to mention short-sighted.¡± Nero snorted and replied, ¡°Yeah, ''cause everyone here is ¡®sooo¡¯ logical. There must be some weird cultural thing that helps you all ignore the blatant self-interest that your entire system is based on. It¡¯s like you recognize that humans are horribly self-centered, and you somehow think by recognizing it and incorporating it into your laws, you¡¯ll somehow escape the drawbacks of people being assholes.¡± Nick, stepping up once again to defend Oglivarchian culture, replied, ¡°It¡¯s not that we believe we¡¯ll be able to stop people from breaking the law or acting against the greater good. It¡¯s that we have dedicated millennia to crafting a system of government that incorporates that self-interest while channeling it toward socially progressive outlets. If someone wants to move up the ladder, they must serve the community. It¡¯s their self-interest which compels them to act responsibly.¡± Vera added, ¡°I¡¯ve cautioned you before about looking at this world through the lens of what you¡¯ve experienced in your previous life. Here, you can¡¯t expect people to behave in a way that conforms to social structures that don¡¯t exist here. I promise you, there is literally no longer any reason for anyone from Dorchester to try and kill you.¡± Nero lazily looked up from his plate of pastries, his mouth riddled with frosting. ¡°Uh-huh. I¡¯m totally safe now. Got it.¡± Academian Quincy noted Nero¡¯s sarcastic tone and failed to stifle his chuckle. Scholar Idrius on the other hand, seemed to want to understand what Nero was thinking. ¡°Why do you believe you¡¯re still in danger? Now that you¡¯re a unique, no one here can gain anything by your death.¡± Nero looked up at her with a smile, only to see her staring back at him with an expression completely devoid of humor. Seeing that, he scoffed loudly, amazed at what he could only assume was naivety. Setting down his pastry, he leaned back in his chair and adopted his ¡®I know better than you¡¯ look. ¡°People don¡¯t need an actual reason to do anything. They think they do, but they don¡¯t. Usually, someone decides they want to do something, then they go about doing mental arithmetic until they can justify doing what they wanted to do in the first place. If someone wants me dead, then they¡¯ll find a good reason to try and kill me. Laws and social conventions barely even enter into it unless you¡¯re talking about how hard it will be for them to justify their actions,¡± he said, his tone full of compassion and understanding. Scholar Idrius was no stranger to intellectual debates, and immediately replied, ¡°But that implies that they would have a reason to want you dead. Now that you are a unique, you are completely outside of the nobility structure. There is no shortage of resources, or gains to be had with your removal from the board. Or do you believe your mere presence is enough to elicit homicidal feelings in the local nobility?¡± Nero laughed, as that was a good one. ¡°No, I don¡¯t think I¡¯m that bad. However, there are probably countless reasons that someone could be pissed at me. Whether it was because I did something that caused them problems, or it could even be something simple¡­ like jealousy.¡± Academian Quincy joined in the conversation by saying, ¡°It¡¯s conceivable that someone would be jealous enough to try and arrange for your death. I would classify it as extremely unlikely, but it is possible.¡± Nero saw Scholar Idrius frown as if Academian Quincy¡¯s statement somehow refuted her argument. Looking around the table, he could see that everyone was acting worried for some reason. Nero did not want to let them stew in their dark thoughts, ¡°Look, I¡¯m not saying that I¡¯m guaranteed to have a price on my head or anything. I¡¯m just saying that I¡¯m not holding out much hope for the whole ¡®unique¡¯ thing to dissuade anyone. From what I can tell, the ¡®unique¡¯ thing is more about keeping powerful people out of power than anything else.¡± Nick looked over at Nero with a confused expression on his face. ¡°What do you mean by that?¡± Nero replied quickly, ¡°I mean exactly that. When you and Quince here were talking about ¡®heroes¡¯, ¡®bards¡¯, ¡®loremasters¡¯, and other special types¡­ you got your point across. Loud and clear.¡± As he finished speaking, he flicked his nose as if he were signaling that he was now ¡®in¡¯ on the plot. Still confused, Nick asked, ¡°Nero, I honestly have no idea what you¡¯re talking about.¡± Looking back and forth between Nick and Quincy, Nero could tell that neither of them knew what he was referring to. Thinking that he might have misunderstood something, Nero asked, ¡°You both told me that all those special citizen types were outside the nobility structure and that they couldn¡¯t own business interests and the like, right?¡± The entire table nodded. Nero then continued, ¡°You also said that they were taken out of the politics so they would no longer be under threat by the noble games and ladders and stuff. Which of course is a completely logical and civic-conscious way to save the lives of special citizens who could aid the kingdom with their special skills. However, if you look at it another way, it¡¯s also a great way to make sure that people who are capable of disrupting the delicate balance of power are kept politically weak and ineffectual. What better way to handle difficult people than to ¡®promote¡¯ them out of the advancement pool.¡± The entire table sat in silence, digesting Nero¡¯s theory. Academian Quincy broke first. ¡°Well, he¡¯s not wrong. Since its inception, the class designations have kept some pretty powerful people out of politics. Even ¡®The Siren¡¯ now runs her city from the shadows, as she can¡¯t hold a position in the court she established.¡± Vera added, ¡°In a way, Nero is lucky to be a unique. If he were to have been raised to a ¡®hero¡¯ instead, then he would have been forced to sell off all of his assets so that he could represent Dorchester as its champion. While in many ways it would be an honor, not to mention profitable, it would also severely limit his options. As a unique, he can still travel and set up houses wherever he wants.¡± Nero shrugged. He didn¡¯t really care too much about the details of why he was right, just that he was. He always looked at things from a pessimistic standpoint bordering on ¡®conspiracy theory¡¯ level nuttery. It was one of the many reasons he refused to take anything he heard at more than face value. Nero really didn¡¯t want to continue with the conversation, as blowing people¡¯s minds with the truth was not on this morning¡¯s agenda. So instead, he clapped his hands loudly and changed the subject. ¡°So, who¡¯s ready to sign up some folks to follow me into adventure, glory, and possibly death?¡± he asked with a grim, yet excited, smile on his face. Chapter 183 - Managing expectations Dorchester¡¯s entire council of leadership was present, although very few actually wanted to be there. They were called in for yet another emergency session for one of City Lord Cosgrave''s schemes. And, of course, no one was surprised by the fact that it was once again about the illustrious new Lord Walker, who had now been upgraded in class again. One would think that having him no longer part of the ladder would finally put their minds at ease, but that seemed like wishful thinking. Lord Voltan rubbed his head in irritation as Lord Bennings droned on and on about the proper way for a city to conduct itself with unique citizens. She covered the relevant accords and the local customs which had been agreed upon during the city¡¯s founding. She then went into great detail about how Lord Walker had divested his interests, transferring his newfound wealth to the budding house Verena, skillfully avoiding a single valen in taxes. Whether or not she was praising or condemning the young lord wasn¡¯t clear, and no one cared enough to ask. Glancing over at the city lord, he almost sneered at how obvious she was being. Since the beginning of the meeting, she hadn¡¯t said a word. It was like she assumed they¡¯d all forget she was the one who called the hells be damned thing if she kept her mouth shut. ¡®She really believes she is that much smarter than us,¡¯ he thought with some amusement. These were the kind of meetings he hated. It was obvious Cosgrave, Bennings, and Branson had already come up with a plan, and now they were preemptively arguing their position. Which of course was pointless, as he and the other Lords couldn¡¯t care less about how they planned to deal with Lord Walker. He was no longer part of their city. At worst, he was an inconvenient guest. At best, a helpful visitor they could throw at their problems. Looking around, he coincidentally locked eyes with Lord Peyton. They shared a look of commiseration before Peyton turned back to continue listening to Lord Bennings¡¯ briefing. Turning to his right, he saw that Lord York wasn¡¯t even pretending to listen. He was slouching in his chair, arms folded with his eyes closed. He looked to be thoroughly engrossed in something on his link that only he could see. Lord Voltan noticed that Lord Bennings was coming to the summation portion of her presentation. ¡®Thank all the gods in the heavens,¡¯ he thought to himself in relief. ¡°It is due to these accords that we can formalize Dorchester¡¯s relationship with Lord Walker. Unfortunately, as council heads, you all need to sign the quest issuance. As requested by General Branson, Mage-adept Newbanks has developed several quests that take advantage of Lord Walker¡¯s talents while ensuring that the kingdom, and not Dorchester, pays the quest rewards.¡± At that moment, Mage-adept Newbanks stood up from the chair reserved for court mages, waving her hand and delivering the packets she¡¯d prepared to each of the noble¡¯s tables. Mildly interested, Lord Voltan picked up the packets filled with quest papers and started reading. As expected, the overly dramatic wording and countless references to the governing accords made for an incredibly dull read. Mage-adept Newbanks¡¯ calm voice filled the hall, ¡°There are three quest paths that I¡¯ve been asked to develop. The first is purely a request for Lord Walker¡¯s support with efforts to pierce the kobald¡¯s illusion screens. He would be based out of the Tower of Magic, and aid the mages there with their war efforts. The second is General Branson¡¯s idea. It allows for Lord Walker to join army units doing search and clear missions throughout the mountain. The third is my personal recommendation and has the support of Arch-mage Jennings. The quest will be for Lord Walker to aid our forces in storming the mountain.¡± While Lord Voltan looked over the quests, he couldn¡¯t help but wonder what these fools were trying to do. There just didn¡¯t seem to be a reason for all this fuss. ¡®They just finished covering up their mistakes, and here they are scheming again,¡¯ he thought. Lord Peyton, after reviewing the quest packets, tossed them back down at the table in disgust. Lord York, still ignoring everyone in the room, didn¡¯t even bother opening his eyes. His packet sat on his desk unopened and unread. Mage-adept Newbanks¡¯ eyes panned across the room, she could see that the council heads were not happy with what they were seeing. As she had only been involved in the creation of one of these plans, she merely raised an eyebrow and stared at the city-lord with her patented ¡®I told you so¡¯ look. Feeling like it was up to him to voice the obvious, Lord Voltan spoke up. ¡°So, let me see if I understand all this,¡± he said while turning to glare at the city lord and the general. ¡°You two were worried about how Lord Walker feels about his time in our delightful city. Specifically how you both went out of your way to play games with him and allowed people to try and assassinate him left and right. Then after he publicly bested you, over and over again, he was promoted to unique. A promotion he earned by being so exceptional that General Branson¡¯s forces personally filled out the paperwork without bothering to tell him.¡± Both the general and the city lord were frowning at the not-so-silent rebuke. Lord Voltan smiled at their expressions and continued, ¡°So, now that Lord Walker is a unique, and out of your control, you want to manipulate the quest system to have the kingdom pay him off. But, you know that you need him, so you can¡¯t just give him the reward without getting what you can out of him. So, you two once again got to planning, and are now trying to refocus the entire war effort with him as a figurehead. You think you can maneuver him into believing it all rests on his shoulders, and you hope that he will be influenced enough to go and get himself killed. Am I missing anything?¡± Lord Bennings, obviously amused at Lord Voltan¡¯s interpretation of events, replied, ¡°I¡¯ve tried to tell them that Lord Walker doesn¡¯t care about them, but they refuse to believe he isn¡¯t harboring some kind of irrational hatred for their previous efforts against him.¡± Lord Voltan snorted a bit in laughter. General Branson addressed the room, ¡°The city lord and I share the opinion that Lord Walker is not nearly as forgiving as you all seem to believe. We need to make Lord Walker believe that saving Dorchester is worth his time. We, as a city, can¡¯t afford to offer quest rewards nearly as high as what the kingdom can. Therefore, it is only logical to use the quest rewards system to the best of our ability, having the kingdom pay him to serve our interests.¡± Mage-adept Newbanks, still standing in the center of the hall, said, ¡°There is something to be said about the clever use of the quest system to aim Lord Walker at your enemies. However, the most basic facts are not in dispute. One, Lord Walker can do something you need. Two, he¡¯s been at odds with the people in this room before. Three, half of Dorchester is thinking about what it would be like to join him as one of his adherents.¡± Lord Peyton laughed loudly and shouted, ¡°Who wouldn¡¯t want to cut ties with everything and go off on an adventure? No more politics and business deals, just the wide-open path stretching out before you. I don¡¯t blame them.¡± Mage-adept Newbanks nodded and continued her pitch. ¡°That¡¯s why I think it¡¯s best to give Lord Walker the adaptability he needs to see this through. Sticking him in the tower and paying him off is all well and good, but it doesn¡¯t help us nearly as much as his active participation. But, we can¡¯t just ask him to rejoin the army¡­ he doesn¡¯t trust them. So, that¡¯s why I believe giving him a long-term goal with a massive payout is the best option. We can offer incentives for local objectives, but let the kingdom pay for the final victory over the mountain.¡± Lord York finally opened his eyes and looked up from his lap. ¡°I agree with the mage. The time for games is over. Lord Walker is a unique now. We¡¯d be fools to still treat him like a local noble,¡± he said, his voice barely louder than a whisper. Lord Voltan sighed. He just couldn¡¯t understand why they thought they had any control of the situation. ¡°Has anybody actually spoken to Lord Walker about all of this?¡± he asked. Several people, including the city lord, the general, and Lord Bennings, all shared an uncomfortable look. Lord Voltan glared at them all, then said, ¡°This. This right here is why I hate half of you. You scheme and plot, simply for the sake of scheming and plotting. This entire meeting is pointless. Your plans are pointless. I¡¯m not going to agree to anything until we hear from Lord Walker.¡± Unauthorized usage: this narrative is on Amazon without the author''s consent. Report any sightings. ¡°I agree!¡± shouted Lord Peyton. ¡°The young man has made you all look like fools while gaining honor and accolades despite your interference. He obviously has plans of his own, and now he has the clout to see them through. From what I¡¯ve heard, he¡¯s a warrior of legend in the making, and I for one want to see what he can do without anyone interfering in his path.¡± Surprisingly, Lord Voltan saw Lord York and Mage-adept Newbanks nodding along with him while listening to Lord Peyton¡¯s outburst. ¡®Perhaps we can salvage Dorchester¡¯s relationship with the young man after all,¡¯ he thought with a smile. ¡ª-- Nero spun his chair around to face the large living room. Throughout the floor were several couches arranged in small circles around coffee tables. Twenty or so mercenaries were spread out enjoying their breakfast. Cathleen, Keening, and Rose were the only ones paying attention to Nero, so they were first to stand up when he started his impromptu ¡®court¡¯. Stepping up onto his chair in order to more easily be seen, Nero put his hands on his hips and adopted his signature smirk. ¡°OK, everyone. Let¡¯s all gather around and figure out this whole adherent business,¡± he shouted just loud enough to get everyone¡¯s attention. In quick order, all the mercenaries stood up and organized themselves. Meanwhile, Academian Quincy and Scholar Idrius stood up and took their position on Nero¡¯s right. Though, Nick and Vera remained seated at the table. Nero felt a sliver of disappointment when he saw his friends easily letting themselves be replaced as his advisors, but he recognized why they were allowing it to happen. ¡®Things change, responsibilities conflict, and friends move on,¡¯ he told himself, remembering all the relationships that he¡¯d lost through the vagaries of fate. Easily shrugging off the dour feelings, Nero focused on the present. If the powers that be wanted him to form some kind of personal force, then that¡¯s exactly what he¡¯d do. But, he¡¯d do it his way. He¡¯d fall back on his many years of management experience. Between his tenure as a store manager and his brief stint in college as an online guild leader, he figured he had this in a bag. Still standing on his chair, Nero looked out over the group of mercenaries. It was both disturbing and oddly satisfying to see them all looking at him with excitement and hope in their eyes. Now that he understood what an adherent meant, he could empathize with them a little. This was a rare and exciting opportunity for them. It was like they were local security guards being given the opportunity to join the CIA or something. ¡®They look like adventure junkies, just like me,¡¯ he thought. ¡°So what we¡¯re going to do is simple. I¡¯ll be conducting interviews with you all, one by one. We¡¯ll see how we get along, and talk about what you¡¯re looking to get out of following me. As we¡¯re eventually going to end up working in close quarters, I plan on doing these interviews in the open. I¡¯m not going to go all noble on you, keeping secrets and hiding things that end up getting you all killed,¡± he said, using his ¡®I may be your manager, but I¡¯m still just one of the guys¡¯ schtick he¡¯d perfected over the years. ¡°Before we begin, let me tell you what I¡¯m looking for. I¡¯m putting together a team. An adventuring party. I¡¯m sure that¡¯s not news to you, as from what I¡¯m told this is exactly what I¡¯m supposed to be doing. However, the details of how I¡¯m gonna run my crew are entirely up to me. So, I¡¯ll be creating what I¡¯ll henceforth be referring to as ¡®The Walker Adventuring Company¡¯,¡± he finished with a shout, holding his arms out his side as if he were presenting them with the greatest idea they¡¯d ever heard. Although he was met with confused stares, he didn¡¯t care. Eventually, they¡¯d all see what he was planning. ¡®It¡¯s going to be epic,¡¯ he thought to himself with a smile. ¡°The W.A.C will have one primary purpose, and that is to seek out interesting events and places while making money and acquiring knowledge,¡± he said proudly, before pausing for a few seconds and amending his statement. ¡°OK. So three¡­. Three primary ¡®purposes¡¯?¡­ Three primary aims! Adventure, money, and knowledge. Yes, that¡¯s what I meant, and that¡¯s what we¡¯ll do. First, we¡¯ll deal with the crap going on here in Dorchester, and get the nobles and the kingdom to pay us for our efforts. Then, when everything here is all good, we¡¯ll take off and see the rest of the kingdom. We¡¯ll fight the fights we want, and when we get ourselves in over our heads¡­ we¡¯ll run like hell and live to fight another day. I¡¯m telling you all now so that you won¡¯t be surprised in the future when you hear me scream, ¡°Run away!¡±¡­ I have absolutely no intention of dying for a worthy cause. I intend for us all to live to see things we¡¯ve only read about in legends. I want to see all manner of cities, species, and sunsets. Who knows, maybe we¡¯ll get to ride a dragon or two. It will be dangerous, but if we stick together¡­ if we look out for each other¡­ if we dedicate ourselves to the W.A.C., then we¡¯ll get to live lives full of magic and wonder!¡± he declared loudly, holding his arms out in welcome while he tried to channel his inner nerd-herder. Everyone was staring at him with varying levels of excitement, so he thought the speech went well enough. Although he doubted he¡¯d instill the die-hard loyalty gaming guilds develop without putting in some effort, he hoped he was off to a good start. He was willing to do whatever it took to create a guild that would follow him blindly into danger, manage his affairs for him, and support his quest for adventure and magic, all while requiring as little personal effort from him as possible. ¡°Alright, let¡¯s go one at a time. Feel free to sit down and take a load off. I doubt I¡¯ll be maintaining much discipline outside of combat, so we may as well foster a casual attitude during our downtime. If all goes well, we¡¯ll be considering each other family soon enough,¡± he said while stepping down and taking his seat. Gesturing with his hand at Cathleen, he said, ¡°Let¡¯s start with the illimitable Cathleen Averett, the deadly femme fatale who hides in plain sight. Step up and introduce yourself, then tell everyone why you are interested in joining The Walker Adventuring Company.¡± As the mercenaries dragged and rearranged the furniture, Nero looked over and gave Vera and Nick his best smile. Unfortunately, they didn¡¯t seem to care about Nero messing up their living room. Shrugging off his failed attempt at annoying Vera, he locked eyes with Cathleen and nodded to her as if giving her permission to begin. Cathleen stood tall, or as tall as a 5¡¯6¡¯¡¯ woman could stand. Yet, her force of personality was more than enough to quiet the room and gather everyone¡¯s attention. ¡°As I¡¯m sure many of you know, I am an Averett. I come from a long line of exceptional warriors, from a culture dedicated to the pursuit of martial excellence. We are of the North, where the beasts own the land, and we fight for our right to exist from the moment we open our eyes and see our mothers setting us free by cutting our cord,¡± she said, her tone remaining even and devoid of hubris. Several mercenaries scoffed as if they were mildly offended by Cathleen¡¯s understated humblebrag. Cathleen didn¡¯t seem to notice, or if she did, she didn¡¯t care. ¡°It is because of that shared pursuit that I choose to follow Lord Walker. He is young, brash, and equal parts foolish and brave. He lives his entire life as if it were combat. Every action he takes is that of a warrior seeking advantage. I like that,¡± she said while looking at Nero with a slight expression of pride. Nero had heard her weird opinions before, so he responded with his standard eye-roll and indulgent smile. ¡°As I said, he is young. So, I have decided to stay with him. To train him. To keep him alive while he learns everything the world is trying to teach him,¡± she said, then looked over at the table and continued, ¡°Vera and Nicholas were his first family, but I am his first follower. Whether he is a new lord or a unique, it doesn¡¯t matter to me. I¡¯m here for Nero the future Warblade.¡± Nero smirked at Cathleen''s overly dramatic introduction. Clapping lightly, Nero said, ¡°It¡¯s very brave to expose your crazy to the world, so let¡¯s all thank Cathleen for putting hers out on display for us to enjoy.¡± Nero, chuckling at his joke, stilled as he felt the essence in the room shift. His eyes snapped up to see Cathleen staring at him with the same small smile she used to have before she spent a few hours ¡®training¡¯ him to death. Her presence seemed to vibrate in the ether, and Nero could ¡®feel¡¯ her desire to get him back in the ring. The smirk died pathetically on his face, and Nero coughed lightly to clear his throat. ¡°Well, of course, Cathleen is my first follower, or my bodyguard, or whatever the hell she wants to be. I, for one, don¡¯t plan on giving her any orders,¡± he said, then mumbled under his breath, ¡°Being alive is much better than being in charge.¡± The oppressive feeling in the ether faded away, and Nero managed to offer Cathleen a smile that looked somewhere between apologetic and rueful in return. ¡°Moving on! Next, we have Rose Vikander. Former teammate with what some would consider a politically complicated past. Is she a young, eager student? A clever spy, playing multiple sides? Or maybe she¡¯ll surprise us all and let us see the truth behind the lie. Rose Vikander, come on down!¡± he shouted with a smile. Rose stepped forward, offering Nero a look that could either be indicating her support, or her promised retribution. Nero narrowed his eyes at the easy confidence she was displaying. ¡®Yet another mask. Is she trying to mimic Cathleen?¡¯ he wondered. ¡°My name is indeed Rose Vikander. I am a child of the villages. After being apprenticed to a hunter, I followed him to Dorchester. When I met Lord Walker, I knew that he was special. I agreed to join his training unit with the elites at the behest of General Branson. Lord Walker knows about my affiliations and was kind enough to offer me a way out. I have served with him in battle, and I will gladly follow him into many more,¡± she said, her voice carrying smatterings of pride and arrogance. Nero stared at her in shock. ¡®This chick is something else. I just can¡¯t pin her down. She really is like a chameleon or something. Why is she acting all ¡®warrior-woman¡¯ now? Is she trying to ensure her place in the hierarchy or something? Isn¡¯t she like barely level 10? Wait a minute! Did she get a pillar and I didn¡¯t notice?!?¡¯ he thought to himself in panic. Nero¡¯s entire being focused on Rose, the desire for answers was almost too much for him. He knew she was beautiful. But, he also knew she was conniving. Yet, everything about her seemed to draw him in. He really wanted to figure her out, to understand her. While still sitting in his chair, he locked eyes with her. He could see that she was pretending to wait patiently for his verdict, but behind the facade, he could almost ¡®see¡¯ the real her. Between his perception field monitoring her essence field, and the rest of his senses working in conjunction to pierce her mask, he got a glimpse of a scared young woman. Like a shaft of sunlight breaking through a canopy and banishing the shadows, Nero saw the real Rose. It was only a moment, but it was enough. She had been trying to survive, that¡¯s all. She sided with the general because it got her away from her old life. Now, with Nero no longer under the general¡¯s thumb, she figured her best path forward was to follow him. She didn¡¯t trust the general, and could now only hope that Nero would prove to be the man she thought he was. Though it was only a second or two of silence, everyone in the room could see that Nero was deep in thought about something. A few people looked back and forth between Rose and Nero, trying to glean some insight from watching their staring contest. A smile broke out on Nero¡¯s face, and he said, ¡°That¡¯s our Rose! Though you probably all out-level her by a lot, I recommend that you don¡¯t provoke her. She is a true hunter, she never attacks from the front. Before you know it, you¡¯ll be dead and not even understand the ¡®how¡¯ or ¡®why¡¯.¡± Offering Rose a look filled with acceptance, Nero continued, ¡°She¡¯s been with me for a while. So, if she wants to sign up, I¡¯ll be more than happy to have her. Welcome to the W.A.C.!¡± In response, Rose smiled, and Nero thought for a second that it looked almost genuine. Turning to the woman standing beside her, Nero said, ¡°Next is Ms. Keening I believe?¡± The woman in question stepped forward, her bearing was a little more military than Nero expected it to be. She was a little under six feet tall, lithe, but well-muscled. Her leather armor allowed her upper arms to be shown off, and Nero could see that cool bicep vein fitness people have. Her gray cloak was swept back over her shoulders like a cape, and her weapons and various metal bits were all shining like they¡¯d been recently polished. Her light brown hair was pulled back in braids as if she were cosplaying a Viking, and her eyes were showing nothing but determination and intelligence. Nero remembered her from when Vera had sent her and the others to escort him to the Tower of Law several weeks ago. ¡®I wonder where Vera found this woman. She looks like she was born to lead an adventuring party¡­ or a cross-fit class. What was she doing signing up for a mercenary job?¡¯ he thought to himself. Chapter 184 - Dissatisfaction is a universal phenomenon. Natalie Keening had been aware for some time that her growth had stagnated. It had been years since she¡¯d felt the rush of progress, the indescribable sensation of her identity expanding deeper into the world around her. Without that feeling, she¡¯d felt that the world around her had lost some of its luster. It was as if she¡¯d lost her purpose. ¡®The moment a person stops fighting to live, they begin to die,¡¯ she reminded herself as thoughts of the past floated through her mind. ¡°So what do you think, ma¡¯am?¡± she heard a voice ask. Turning around, Keening brought her thoughts back to the present. She ran her eyes across the room, noting that everyone was eager to hear what she had to say. The bunkhouse they had been given was larger than necessary. Considering their entire contingent was only 34 people at the moment, the amount of space they were using was almost wasteful. Yet, considering that Mrs. Salvatore¡­ or now Lady Verana had intended for their forces to grow, the decision to convert the warehouse into a bunkhouse had made sense at the time. She briefly wondered about what would happen to this place after they left, before quickly dismissing the question as pointless. Steeling herself, she took a deep breath and addressed her troops, ¡°What do I think? I think that as far as I¡¯m concerned, nothing has changed.¡± Before she could continue, one of her more impulsive recruits snapped, ¡°We¡¯re being disbanded before we¡¯ve even gotten a chance to prove ourselves! Everything has changed!¡± Looking over at the man, she replied, ¡°Hodgins¡­ First, shut up. Second, what I meant was that we all took this job because we knew House Walker was a house on the rise. But, more than that, Lord Walker himself was the reason we¡¯re all here.¡± Starting to pace, she continued talking as she looked up at the ceiling in thought, ¡°Some of you know that I joined Precision Shipping around 10 years ago. Before that, I was everything from a village bounty hunter to a certified monster hunter. But, after I had a few rough years, I was looking for a change of pace, a place where I could feel like I belonged. And, while I found that with P&S, I also found that security breeds complacency.¡± Pausing her steps, she turned back to address the room directly, ¡°I forgot what it meant to push myself, to boldly step out of my comfort zone and face a challenge worth overcoming. That¡¯s why I took this job. I wanted to join with a young man like Lord Walker. You¡¯ve all heard the stories of the little lord, the smiling blade, Dorchester¡¯s chosen. He dropped into our city like a meteor, ruining noble schemes and causing havoc with his every breath. While we¡¯ve been training and building this small force, he¡¯s been out there in the wilds, fighting monsters and kobalds despite being raised to the nobility. We¡¯re all here because of who we know he will become¡­ a legend.¡± The room sat in silence, digesting her words. One of the few people in the room older than her stepped forward, causing everyone to turn and see what she had to say. Keening looked over and asked, ¡°You have something to say, Nora?¡± The woman nodded, her face stoic. ¡°No one is unaware of why we¡¯re here, and what we hoped to accomplish by serving House Walker. We¡¯ve had plenty of time to get to know each other. Our reasons for joining up aren¡¯t in question. What matters now is what we¡¯re going to do now that the House is being disbanded. I don¡¯t know about everyone else, but I¡¯m not looking forward to going back to running escort missions and putting up with snotty merchants demanding I help unload their wares. Are we really just going back to Precision Shipping without any complaints? Or are we going to join House Verena and guard Mrs. Salvatore¡¯s house as if we were retired soldiers or something?¡± Keening sighed, and replied, ¡°No, Nora. I refuse to move backward. I won¡¯t rejoin P&S, and I won¡¯t be working for Lady Verena any longer.¡± Many people in the room gasped, as the thought of a long-time guard like Keening abandoning her post was more than a little surprising. ¡°So, we¡¯re just going to split up before we even got to do anything?¡± one of the younger troops asked. Keening¡¯s brow furrowed in determination as she said, ¡°Lord Walker is now a unique. I¡¯m sure you at least have some idea of what that means. We can no longer be part of his house in Dorchester because it will no longer exist. But, I plan on asking to follow him as an adherent.¡± Once again, gasps of surprise filled the room. The impulsive young man who started all this asked, ¡°And you think he¡¯ll just let you join him on his journey across the kingdom? He¡¯s a unique for heaven¡¯s sake. You may have the most impressive record of all of us here, but when it comes down to it, you¡¯re a nobody just like us.¡± Keening didn¡¯t shy away from the insult, and instantly replied, ¡°And a few months ago, Lord Walker was a newly awakened commoner on his way to Dorchester to join the guard as a criminal recruit. What of it?¡± Nora, who was still standing somewhat in the middle of the room, said, ¡°Keening is right. We¡¯ll never know if we don¡¯t ask. This is our opportunity for something¡­ more. If we¡¯ve learned anything in the short time we¡¯ve joined House Walker, it¡¯s that Lord Walker isn¡¯t going to be some useless noble that spends his days sitting on his ass and counting his valens. He¡¯ll be throwing himself into danger, facing threats to humanity and civilization like a true Oglivarchian. I, for one, didn¡¯t sign up for a cushy job. I¡¯m here to see if I have what it takes to be more than just some 30 valen a day guard in the middle of nowhere.¡± Feeling the hope in the room rising, Keening stepped forward and declared, ¡°None of you need follow me. But for those who want something more, those who want to see the kingdom, to follow a legend in the making, then grab your gear and say your goodbyes. We¡¯re heading to the Verena estate to see about joining our lord on his new path. And this time, we¡¯ll be right beside him when he faces the dangers that we¡¯ve all been hearing about.¡± Almost the entire room shot to their feet and ran off to go pack. Although Keening had expected a few of the troops to follow her, she was surprised to see how many seemed to share her excitement and desire for this new, unexpected opportunity. ¡ª-- Nero watched calmly as Ms. Keening took a deep breath as if she needed to prepare herself for what was about to happen. The woman looked like she was psyching herself up for an audition or something. Looking Nero in the eye, she said, ¡°As you know, I was hired to lead your house¡¯s forces. Mrs. Salvatore offered me¡­ Oh! I meant Lady Verena. No disrespect intended, m¡¯lady.¡± Nero tried to hide his smirk as he watched Ms. Keening¡¯s wide-eyed apology to Vera. Glancing over, he saw Vera wave away the mistake as if she couldn¡¯t care less. To Nero, it was obvious the two had known each other for quite some time. Coughing lightly to clear her throat, Ms. Keening rolled her shoulders and resumed her introduction. ¡°What I meant to say was that I took the job to organize, train, and lead House Walker¡¯s forces. For many years, I¡¯d worked for Lady Verena as a guard captain. Now, that¡¯s not to say that I didn¡¯t enjoy working for her, it¡¯s just that I needed a change¡­¡± Nero could understand that. Which to him, was kinda surprising. In fact, everything she was saying was a little surprising. She wasn¡¯t at all what he¡¯d been expecting. Support the creativity of authors by visiting Royal Road for this novel and more. For a good five minutes, she stood in front of him, giving him a brief but comprehensive overview of her life. He listened as she described her early years attending one of Dorchester¡¯s training academies, her work as a bounty hunter throughout the villages surrounding the city, and her time on what sounded like the civilian version of monster-hunting teams. But what really caught Nero¡¯s attention was how she talked about her family. Ms. Keening¡¯s parents ran a furniture store for Lord York. She had 13 brothers and sisters, none of which she was particularly close to. While her family tended to focus on scholarly and economic pursuits, she had always been more of a wild child. She felt the call of adventure at a young age, and it had distanced her from the rest of her family. As a result of the family drama, she ended up spending a great deal of time away from her home. Yet, she eventually became disillusioned with the hum-drum life of a local adventurer. So, she ended up taking a job as a guard and working her way up to what sounded to Nero like an impressive rank in Precision Shipping¡¯s mercenary forces. By the time she was done speaking, Nero was sitting in his chair frowning. The woman¡¯s life story was just so¡­ boring. He didn¡¯t want to feel that way. And it wasn¡¯t like he was looking down on her or anything. It was just that her story reminded him of a typical middle-class woman who¡¯d wasted her life looking for her passion. It was almost so normal that he felt like he¡¯d been cheated or something. The fact that this world, which was full of monsters and magic, could take all of that fantasy and overlay it with something so unoriginal, made Nero feel a little sad. After she finished baring her soul, Nero watched her shoulders sag, as if saying all of that out loud was somehow cathartic for her or something. His voice barely above a whisper, he asked, ¡°So, you¡¯re here looking for some excitement?¡± Shaking her head, she replied, ¡°Not exactly, m¡¯lord. It¡¯s just that¡­ Well, you changed your path! Every week or two, you end up on the link¡¯s news feed. You¡¯re always facing long odds, and coming out victorious. You are an inspiration. I want to follow you so that my path can go a little farther. I want to see more, do more¡­ Does that make sense?¡± Nero nodded. ¡®God damn this is sounding more and more like a responsibility I don¡¯t want to deal with,¡¯ he thought to himself. When he¡¯d first heard he¡¯d be able to put together an adventuring team, he immediately thought of building a guild full of warriors and heading out to fight the good fight and experience everything this world had to offer. In the abstract, it sounded great. Now though, this woman¡¯s story was forcing him to confront the fact that this world was not just filled with NPCs. These were annoyingly real people. And real people aren¡¯t all that interesting. Nevertheless, whether he wanted to admit it or not, he sympathized with the woman. Despite having a life filled with memories of fighting monsters and hunting bandits, she was a depressingly ordinary person. She was the kind of person he¡¯d known in his old life¡­ kind of. He¡¯d never really hung out with middle-aged women who¡¯d fought and killed before, but her tone of voice and perspective seemed close enough for the details not to matter. ¡°Alright Ms. Keening, you¡¯re in. Welcome to the W.A.C., we¡¯ll have cookies or something soon. We¡¯ll get to your paperwork and whatnot after everyone gets a chance to introduce themselves,¡± he said with a warm smile on his face. Seeing the overwhelmingly joyful look on her face, Nero couldn¡¯t help but feel a little happy with himself. While he wasn¡¯t exactly the nicest person in the world, he had a soft spot for the average Joe, of Joan, just trying to find their place in the world. Like an alcoholics anonymous meeting, one after another the other former guards introduced themselves. And each of their life stories was just as depressing to hear as he worried they¡¯d be¡­ Nora Falkner was an older woman who was already suffering age creep. At 72, she still looked 40, but apparently, she already felt like her time was over. Her kids were grown, and her husband was no longer in the picture. She wanted to rediscover what it meant to face an opponent in battle, and not just spend her days walking next to merchant carts, acting as a glorified bandit deterrent. Oscar Hudgins was a 35-year-old man who still acted like a rebellious teenager. His only redeeming quality was that he was at least a little bit self-aware. He¡¯d spent some time at a training academy before leaving due to his issues with authority. Joining Nero as an adherent was an opportunity for him to reinvent himself. In his own words, he ¡®wanted to find something to believe in¡¯. On and on it went. 26 people. 26 life stories that were both filled with fantasy and weird cultural oddities, while also being incredibly boring and predictable. It took longer than he¡¯d liked to listen to every one of their sob stories. But, needs must and all that. Standing up from his chair, Nero looked over the room at the hopeful people spread out across the couches and chairs. Some of them were even sitting on the ground so they could be closer to the meeting. If there had been a campfire in the room, he¡¯d have thought he was at a corporate retreat for middle managers. ¡°I appreciate you all trusting me with your backstories. While I can¡¯t say I understand what you¡¯ve all been through, I can say that I empathize with the fact that you¡¯ve been through it. But, like I said in the beginning, the W.A.C. is going to be something special. We¡¯re going to be completing quests, felling beasts of legend, and generally going around looking for excitement. It will be hard work, and more than a little dangerous. You¡¯ve all made it clear that you¡¯re not going to miss the lives you¡¯ve had here in Dorchester, so I won¡¯t be thanking you for your sacrifice or anything. But, I will say this¡­ Whatever crappy life you had before today, you¡¯ll be carrying around with you until you decide to let it go,¡± he warned. Seeing as how everyone was looking at him with confusion, Nero clarified, ¡°What I mean is that regardless of how stupid it sounds, your life is what you make of it. You¡¯ve already taken a big step by signing up for the W.A.C., but now comes the hard part¡­ following through. We¡¯ll be training hard, watching out for each other, and trying to survive in whatever dumbass situation I find myself caught up in. So, focus on the here and now, and ignore all the crap that is holding you down. This is the first day of the rest of your life and all that.¡± Behind him, Nero heard Academian Quincy reverently repeat his words as though he were committing them to memory. Looking over his shoulder, Nero narrowed his eyes. ¡®I swear if that son of a bitch starts making money off the sayings I¡¯m stealing, I¡¯m gonna shove my foot so far up his ass¡­¡¯ he promised himself. Turning back to look at his new adherents, he said, ¡°For now, let¡¯s get some food and work on getting to know each other. Afterward, I¡¯ll figure out how to get you all formerly signed up, and then put together some kind of organizational chart or something. Sound good?¡± As one, they all immediately replied, ¡°Yes, m¡¯lord.¡± Nero¡¯s eyebrows shot up at their overly serious reply. ¡®I¡¯m really going to have to work on sounding and acting more presidential if they¡¯re going to keep looking at me like that,¡¯ he thought to himself. Before long, they¡¯d arranged several tables into a line and created a poor excuse for a dining table. Unsurprisingly, Vera had pointed out that they could have just used one of the various dining rooms within the estate. But Nero wanted the impromptu feeling associated with making them ¡®build¡¯ their meeting hall. As far as he was concerned, this was a team-building exercise. Hell, if they had access to a karaoke machine, he would have forced everyone to sing a ballad or two while getting rip-roaring drunk. Their meal went predictably well. Everyone seemed to get along, and there was a spirit of camaraderie building quickly among everyone. The ether was almost singing with the shared feeling of excitement and determination. No one was surprised to hear Nero¡¯s plans for taking a few quests in Dorchester concerning the kobalds before they left for other cities. He told them all that despite signing up with the W.A.C., they¡¯d still be spending the next while defending the city they¡¯d been living in for most of their lives. While that tempered some of their enthusiasm, it also seemed to address some of the concerns they¡¯d been repressing. After all, regardless of how much they wanted to move on, they still had ties to the city that weren¡¯t easily forgotten. After the meal, Academian Quincy and Vera were kind enough to arrange for the paperwork to be filled out. Nero found the entire thing more amusing than he thought he would. Seeing an entire table full of combat-ready people bent over a table filling out piles of paperwork in silence was almost surreal. The entire time, Vera, Academian Quincy, and Scholar Idrius were walking around, leaning over to help where they were needed like they were teachers watching over their students taking placement tests. By the time everyone was done signing their lives over to Nero, the reality of the situation was really sinking in for the poor young man. He¡¯d never wanted this kind of responsibility, and he found the situation more than a little intimidating. However, despite looking like a teenager in the throes of puberty, on the inside he was a middle-aged man with years of leadership experience. Granted, his leadership experience was more geared toward dealing with underachieving potheads and lazy bastards more interested in video games than doing anything with their lives, but he figured it still counted. While they were all working on their paperwork, Nero was busy dealing with his own. He had to pick his house colors, which after careful consideration and a little help from Vera ended up being Teal and Dark Gray. Vera had recommended Pink and Gold, which according to her meant ¡®loyalty¡¯ and ¡®greatness¡¯. Yet, Nero refused to look like an idiot, so he went with Teal for ¡®tradition¡¯ and Gray for ¡®neutrality¡¯. While multiple people pointed out that as a new noble, he had no traditions, he replied with what he thought was the most logical argument one could make¡­ Teal and Dark Gray looked a hell of a lot better than anything else they were proposing. Besides, he was planning on figuring out some traditions at some point, so they could all shut the hell up. Next came his house words. Academian Quincy was particularly interested in what core belief Nero wanted to be displayed on his house¡¯s crest. Nero, not being the kind of guy who worried overly much about disappointing anyone, quickly decided on stealing one of his favorite tag lines from back home, namely ¡®Game. Win. Repeat.¡¯ No one had any objections, and Academian Quincy was once again found himself shocked at Nero¡¯s wisdom. Finally, Nero was faced with having to decide on a house crest. Although he¡¯d never actually noticed anyone displaying their crest, he was assured that each house had one. Lacking any better ideas, he went with the old standby of the evil smiley face he¡¯d once used as a profile avatar. Unfortunately, that didn¡¯t go over nearly as well as his stolen house words. After 10 minutes of Nick showing him various house crests from the city''s nobles, explaining in excruciating detail what each part represented, Nero eventually buckled under the pressure and assigned Nick the task of doing it himself. As far as he was concerned, if it was so damn important to choose things that represented his house¡¯s founding, then considering the way history was constantly being revised around here, he could always just rebrand himself later. Despite all the paperwork, Nero had to admit it was fun to sit around a table and do his homework with a bunch of new friends. The entire situation reminded him of college, and it brought on a sense of nostalgia that he just couldn¡¯t shake. Looking around the table, he thought to himself, ¡®I¡¯m in a totally different world. The people here have lived lives that I can¡¯t begin to comprehend. But at the end of the day, humans are still humans. In a way, it¡¯s comforting that people can still annoy me regardless of where I find myself.¡¯ Chapter 185 - Picking up a quest. Feeling refreshed after his shower, Nick walked out of the bathroom while using a towel to dry his hair. He looked over to see Vera doing her nightly routine in front of her mirror. As usual, he could tell by the expression on her face that something was once again bothering her. After hanging up his towel on the drying rack, he asked over his shoulder, ¡°What¡¯s on your mind, dear?¡± Vera replied testily, ¡°Nothing of consequence.¡± Trying to change the subject she asked, ¡°Have you finished the paperwork I sent you?¡± Nick rolled his eyes. The moment he¡¯d finished the paperwork validating him as a noble, he¡¯d sent her the confirmation. Furthermore, considering that the only reason the transfer of House Walker¡¯s assets went through was because his house was successfully registered as a branch house. So, obviously, she already knew about it. Not taking the bait, he replied, ¡°Yes, dear. It¡¯s all been filed and approved. Now, stop stalling and tell me what¡¯s bothering you.¡± Slamming the brush she was using for her hair down on the table, she spun around to glare at him. ¡°Did you see how Nero ran his acceptance ceremony!¡± Nick, trying to keep himself from laughing, replied, ¡°Yes, dear. I was sitting right next to you.¡± Continuing on as if Nick hadn¡¯t said anything, Vera hissed, ¡°That young man needs to learn some etiquette. He didn¡¯t even ask anyone about their levels, skills, abilities, or even their focus! All he seemed to care about was their personal lives! That kind of lazy leadership is going to end up getting him killed. They are not his friends, and a retinue is not a social club. Can you believe he had them eating with him!¡± Nick, nodding along with a smile on his face, replied evenly, ¡°Yes, dear. It was quite something.¡± Vera spun back around and roughly picked up her brush, angrily returned to brushing her hair while hissing, ¡°¡®Quite something¡¯, he says! Yes, it was most definitely ¡®quite something¡¯. He needs to learn how to act in a manner more reflective of his position. People won¡¯t respect him, and they certainly won¡¯t follow him if he doesn¡¯t start taking things seriously.¡± Nick, not bothering to argue, replied, ¡°Of course, dear.¡± Slamming down her brush again, she angrily started dabbing some lotion into her hand before harshly spreading it over her legs. ¡°And I don¡¯t know how I feel about stepping back and letting those evaluators take over his mentorship! It may have been a mistake to let Academian Quincy present himself as Nero¡¯s hand. We don¡¯t know enough about them to trust them with Nero¡¯s life and house,¡± she barked. Nick didn¡¯t bother to point out that it was Vera who¡¯d determined that since they weren¡¯t going to be joining Nero as his adherents, and would be remaining in Dorchester, they needed to step back and let others take up supporting positions at Nero¡¯s side. Instead, he nodded along and replied, ¡°I couldn¡¯t agree more.¡± Huffing as if she expected nothing less, Vera continued, ¡°And don¡¯t even get me started on the fact that the young idiot is trying to turn his retinue into some ridiculous adventuring guild! As if this was the Northern Reaches and there were necromancers, wraiths, and warlords filling the wilds with castles to be stormed and maidens to be saved. For the sake of all the heavens above, the W.A.C.? Really?¡± No longer being able to contain his chuckle, Nick laughed while mumbling, ¡°Yeah, that was something all right.¡± Vera glared at him over her shoulder through the mirror and continued on as if she hadn¡¯t heard him. ¡°That young man doesn¡¯t know what he¡¯s getting into. At least here in Dorchester, as a noble, he had the protection of the system to fall back on. Now, if he goes through with this madness, he¡¯ll be throwing himself and those foolish enough to follow him into whatever idiocy he finds ¡®fun¡¯ or ¡®interesting¡¯. I won¡¯t have it, Nicholas¡­ I simply will not have it. We have to do something.¡± Nick, seeing that his wife¡¯s wrath was getting a little out of hand, walked over to her and placed his hands on her shoulders to calm her down. Looking her in the eye with an expression filled with as much compassion as he could muster, he asked, ¡°Are you sure this isn¡¯t a little more about ¡®you¡¯ than it is ¡®him¡¯?¡± Glaring at him in the reflection, she asked, ¡°And what exactly do you mean by that?¡± Nick¡¯s gentle smile didn¡¯t waver. ¡°I understand that you¡¯re worried about people you don¡¯t trust gaining influence over him. Not to mention his ignorance of how he should be leading his house. However, nothing is stopping you from offering your aid other than your strict adherence to social protocols that Nero isn¡¯t even aware of. Just because you are now in a subservient position as a branch lord, doesn¡¯t mean he will no longer listen to your counsel. The fact of the matter is that you refused to give it.¡± Vera sighed heavily. ¡°Nicholas, it¡¯s not that simple. Nero is a unique now. He¡¯s only been in this world for a few months, and he¡¯s already beyond our help. We can¡¯t follow him where he is going without abandoning everything we¡¯ve worked for. Decades of painstaking effort would be wasted if we gave up our lives and followed him. He needs someone to manage his holdings. Without that income, it would take him years to build up his personal house.¡± Nick nodded, agreeing with her easily. ¡°And that¡¯s why we¡¯re staying here in Dorchester.¡± Leaning down, he kissed the top of her head before walking away. Over his shoulder, he added, ¡°For the record, I don¡¯t think you¡¯re giving Quincy enough credit. That man is dedicated to Nero in a way that could only be defined as fanatical. I wouldn¡¯t be surprised if those evaluators formed a personality cult around him.¡± Vera, shocked, whipped her head around to stare at Nick. ¡°You can not be serious?!?¡± Nick sat down on his side of the bed while placing his link on the nightstand. Shrugging, he replied, ¡°It¡¯s just a feeling I get when they talk about him. But, think about it. Why are they being so helpful? Why did they choose to take on such a complicated case? And you weren¡¯t there for the evaluation they did at Center Research. They all looked at Nero like he was a divine being gracing this plane with his presence.¡± Vera, not taking Nick¡¯s word for it, replied, ¡°Well¡­ we¡¯ll just have to see about that.¡± ¡ª-- Nero woke up the next morning without issue. Aside from a few uncomfortable dreams filled with kobald chiefs meeting in smoke-filled caves, and endless fields of lizards organizing their invasion, Nero had slept surprisingly well. His breakfast was a simple pancake equivalent along with some blue liquid that tasted remarkably like apple juice, which he shared with Nick, Vera, Academian Quincy, and a few of his new adherents. The conversation was light, and the only thing of note was that Academian Quincy had somehow accepted a meeting with General Branson on his behalf. Considering Nero wanted to get the quest situation sorted out, he didn¡¯t bother complaining about it. That naturally led to his current situation¡­ getting out of a cab in front of Gate 20¡¯s command center. Looking over his shoulder, he saw Academian Quincy, Scholar Idrius, Cathleen, and Natalie Keening organizing themselves behind him. Nero was, of course, conflicted. One on hand, he was rolling up to the keep with a full-on posse. But, on the other, Nick and Vera had decided not to come along. Nick had begged off, claiming that he needed to look into the current research progress concerning the war, and Vera was busy dealing with the various businesses and interests she was in charge of. Unauthorized duplication: this tale has been taken without consent. Report sightings. Nero, frowning at the feeling of not being able to rely on Vera¡¯s guidance, squared his shoulders and started walking. It wasn¡¯t as if he didn¡¯t realize what they were doing, it was just that he didn¡¯t like it. He knew they were trying to get him to learn to stand on his own. As if him now being a unique had somehow pushed up whatever imaginary time frame they had been following concerning his development. ¡®No matter what world I¡¯m in, people always equate titles with competence. Stupidity must be one of those universal constants or something,¡¯ he thought to himself. Before long, he found himself being escorted into a conference room. At the head of the table sat the general, along with two aides Nero vaguely recognized. The room was nothing special for Dorchester. Intricately carved wooden walls, fancy paintings of nature scenes, and sunset training tableaus filled the walls. The overhead essence lighting made the room look like it could have been in any number of buildings he¡¯d been in. Not knowing the protocol, and not really caring, Nero took a seat next to one of the aides and said, ¡°General, good to see you. As you no doubt remember, this is Academian Quincy, Scholar Idrius, his second in command, and of course, you remember Cathleen Averett, my bodyguard who doesn¡¯t guard my body.¡± Leaning forward a little, Nero pointed to Natalie Keening who was just sitting down. ¡°And that is Natalie Keening. I don¡¯t have a title for her just yet, but she is one of my new adherents. She was chosen by the other recent recruits of the W.A.C. to act as their representative for these talks.¡± The general, caught off guard by Nero acting remotely serious, replied without thinking, ¡°The W.A.C.?¡± Nero smiled widely and replied, ¡°The Walker Adventuring Company! I intend to use my status as a unique to go around and see the sights while learning magic and killing things that go bump in the night. A few people have opted to join me in my adventures, hence the Walker Adventuring Company!¡± The general sat in stunned silence. His overly large presence at the head of the table seemed to hold the air in the room hostage as he thought through what Nero had just said. Shaking his head quickly, as if he were refusing to contemplate Nero¡¯s antics, the general started speaking as if Nero hadn¡¯t said anything. ¡°I called you hear to express Dorchester¡¯s thanks for agreeing to take up quests in defense of her walls. While you are no longer bound by your oaths of citizenship, it speaks to your character that you are willing to defend the cause of humanity while the wilds assault our walls and threaten all that we¡¯ve built.¡± Nero nodded along, perfectly happy to let the general get through his prepared speech and politicking. The general¡¯s rumbling voice carried on, ¡°As your house requested, we¡¯ve compiled some quests for you to choose from. However you¡¯d be willing to help us, we¡¯d be more than happy to accept. If you have any requests for materials or support, please don¡¯t hesitate to ask. We¡¯ll do what we can to see you and your companions aptly prepared to face whatever perils you choose to confront on our behalf. Please look through these quests and let me know what you decide on. Feel free to take your time, as I¡¯ve cleared my schedule for you.¡± One of Nero¡¯s eyebrows rose in surprise. The general¡¯s entire demeanor had changed now that Nero was a unique. Compared to before, when the general acted like every moment he graced Nero with his presence was a gift, seeing him act like a sycophant was a little off-putting. The aide on the right of the general started handing out little informational packets to Nero and his companions. While the room sat in silence, each of them started to look over what they¡¯d been given. Nero felt a delicate probe on his mind, and he turned to see Academian Quincy looking at him from the seat on his left. Accepting the mental connection, Nero was surprised to feel the man¡¯s calm and collected mind. It felt markedly different than Nick¡¯s, who was the only other person he¡¯d made this kind of connection with. ¡°What¡¯s up?¡± he asked. Academian Quincy replied, ¡°You looked a little surprised to see the general acting so deferential. I wanted to explain what is happening.¡± Nero interrupted him before he could continue, ¡°Don¡¯t bother, I can guess. Me being a unique puts me outside of his control, and elevates me to a social position above him. I¡¯m guessing that¡¯s why he¡¯s pretending to be so helpful all of a sudden.¡± While Nero and Academian Quincy were speaking, neither allowed their expressions to hint that they were having a private conversation. Nero was staring at his packet, pretending to read through the quests he¡¯d been given. Yet, Academian Quincy had no problems multitasking. He could converse with Nero while simultaneously evaluating the quests the general had given them. The academian replied, ¡°It¡¯s not just that Nero. As you know, you were treated rather poorly by the local nobility here in Dorchester. Between their flouting of the royal protections you were given and their strict adherence to the noble trials, they wronged you terribly. By allowing constant threats on your life, they failed in their duty as protectors of their citizenry. Had you been so inclined, you could have asked for my assistance, on behalf of the kingdom, to redress the slights you¡¯ve been forced to accept. In fact, you still could if that¡¯s what you want. It¡¯s for that reason that he, and most likely the rest of the local nobility, will be treating you with the utmost respect going forward.¡± Nero felt his stomach lurch. He had once again underestimated how much his new position had changed the game. Replying quickly, he said, ¡°Um¡­ that¡¯s not necessary. I came out alright after it was all said and done. Kicking them when their down is not really my style. I mean, the city lord killed her kids for God¡¯s sake. I think she¡¯s paid her dues. And the general not acting like a dickhead is just weird. Let¡¯s just choose a quest and get ourselves a job.¡± Feeling Academian Quincy¡¯s amusement and pride through the mental connection, Nero felt like the man was misreading something from what Nero was saying. But before he could clarify what he had meant, the man replied, ¡°Very well, my lord.¡± Then he closed the connection. Speaking out loud, Academian Quincy looked across the table and asked, ¡°Scholar Idrius, what do you think about the Dorchester council¡¯s proposals?¡± Not looking up from the packet she was reading, the stern-faced woman replied, ¡°The quests are well made. The compensation is more than fair, and the level of danger is completely up to Lord Walker¡¯s discretion. He could spend the entire war behind the safety of Dorchester¡¯s walls if he so wished. Or he could be on the front lines, facing the enemy with the full support of the local army behind him.¡± Nero glanced over to see the general smiling with pride, as if Scholar Idrius¡¯ words were some kind of validation for him. Nero tried speedreading the quests, but they were filled with overly complicated jargon that made incredibly little sense to him. Figuring he¡¯d get a second opinion, or at least an opinion from someone he trusted, he looked past Academian Quincy and asked, ¡°What do you think Cathleen?¡± The short woman had somehow already finished reading everything and was now sitting back in her chair as if the proceedings meant nothing to her. Turning her head to look at Nero, she replied, ¡°Choose the third option. You and your party can act as the spearhead of the miliary¡¯s thrust into the mountain. With your ability to disrupt their portals, you can systematically shut down their incursion while leading Dorchester¡¯s forces to victory. Wasting time pointing out the kobald¡¯s exit tunnels is pointless, and regardless of what forces they have below ground won¡¯t stop us from having to go down there and wipe them out.¡± Nero, not surprised to hear Cathleen advocating for the most violent approach she could find, looked across the table to Natalie. He saw her staring at the packet in her hands with a pronounced frown on her face. ¡°Natalie? What do you think?¡± he asked. After all, she was going to be risking her life with whatever quest he ended up taking. It was only fair to ask for her opinion on what he should do. Sighing loudly, she replied, ¡°I¡­um¡­ I think it might be a little reckless to just have us go storming the mountain without having a single engagement under our belt. I¡¯m not saying that the members we gathered aren¡¯t up for it, but neither I nor them have ever been in a battle like this before.¡± Nero could see that the woman was shaken at the idea of participating in a full-blown war with the kobalds. It made sense as she had spent most of her life as a glorified bandit deterrent. Therefore, he thought there was some wisdom in working up to the endgame quest Cathleen was advocating. Nodding at the decision he¡¯d come to, he said, ¡°OK. So, here¡¯s what we¡¯re going to do. We¡¯re going to join in the battle that¡¯s currently going on outside the walls. The general here can add us to his forces as an independent unit, and Cathleen can lead us into getting some experience with actual combat. Afterward, depending on how we do, we can decide where we go from there.¡± The general frowned, apparently unhappy with Nero¡¯s decision. ¡°Lord Walker, we don¡¯t currently have a quest that allows for that. Perhaps we could¡­¡± Academian Quincy interrupted the general, his voice calm but edged with steel. ¡°Then you can make one. I¡¯ll be more than happy to fill one out for your council to accept. A series of quests is just as likely to save your city as a singular one. You wouldn¡¯t want Lord Walker and his forces to get in over their heads, would you?¡± The general¡¯s overbearing presence shrank, his shoulders sagging in defeat. ¡°Of course not Academian Quincy. Lord Walker¡¯s help will be appreciated in whatever form it is offered.¡± Nodding quickly, Academian Quincy stood up and replied, ¡°Very good, general. Then, We¡¯ll be in touch.¡± Looking down at Nero, he waited patiently for him to stand up and lead them out. Nero, smirking with amusement at the academian¡¯s attitude, stood up and said, ¡°Thank you for your understanding general. The W.A.C. will do everything in its power to aid Dorchester in its time of need.¡± Giving each of his companions a glance, he gestured for everyone to follow him out. Without even looking back, he led them out of the room and through the command center¡¯s halls. By the time they got to the front of the building, Nero had processed everything that had happened during the short, but intense, meeting. Looking over at Academian Quincy, he said, ¡°Thank you for your help. I don¡¯t think that would have gone nearly as smoothly if it weren¡¯t for your presence acting as a subtle threat to the man.¡± Academian Quincy smiled, seemingly pleased with himself. ¡°Not a problem, my lord. It shows a great deal of wisdom to refrain from rushing recklessly into combat without the requisite experience behind you. I¡¯m sure that you and the members of the W.A.C. will perform admirably during your first foray into combat.¡± Nero thought for a moment, then replied, ¡°Wackos¡­ we¡¯re going to be calling ourselves wackos. You know, likey wacky¡­ but like a person. It takes a certain level of insanity to go out looking for trouble, and that¡¯s exactly what we¡¯re going to be doing.¡± Academian Quincy looked down at Nero with a befuddled, but intense expression on his face. ¡°Yes, I suppose it does. Forcing yourself to face uncomfortable situations and stress is contrary to the peace that everyone strives for in their heart. To face the unknown without fear. To stride courageously into battle and force yourself to become more than you were to survive. To set aside the desire for safety and stability for the rush of combat and uncertainty, and the rewards that come along with it¡­ That is both insane and necessary to progress further along the path.¡± By the time he was done speaking, he¡¯d turned to stare off glassily into the horizon, as if he were declaring something profound into the heavens. Nero looked up at him while they were waiting for their cab to show up. ¡°Uh-huh. Not to change the subject or anything, but have you ever given any thought to public speaking? I think you¡¯d be great at it. You¡¯ve got a whole ¡®vibe¡¯ about you that just screams self-help guru.¡± Academian Quincy came out of the trance his words had caused him to suffer, and looked back at Nero with a confused expression on his face. ¡°Self-help guru?¡± Chapter 186 - Faking it till you make it. Arch-mage Jennings knew there were lessons that a person never truly learned. Lessons like the easy way is rarely the best way, or to never underestimate an opponent. Even something as simple as remembering to avoid spicy foods before bed was something he couldn¡¯t seem to remember until after he was suffering the annoyance of late-night indigestion. Nevertheless, he tried his best to learn from his mistakes. So, as a result of his recent missteps, he was paying careful attention to the local happenings in Dorchester. He would not be caught unaware again¡­ or at least not anytime soon¡­ probably. While part of his mind was focused on giving himself a pep-talk, his other mental partitions were observing the anomaly through a scry and sorting through the various reports he could find through abusing his access to Dorchester¡¯s local Thought-hub. He was both surprised and concerned at how quickly Lord Walker had embraced his new rank as a unique. Based on his limited understanding of the young man, he would have thought he would have struggled with his new title and responsibilities a little more. But, through his scry, he could see the young man building up his personal forces, arranging for financial support by essentially buying the loyalty of the Verenas, and co-opting the evaluators into his personal house. The thought of the evaluators sent a ripple through his mental plane. As the head of the mage council, he knew the evaluators assigned to Lord Walker shouldn¡¯t be here. They were assigned a deep-cover mission to infiltrate and watch over the Royal Academy. Them being in here in Dorchester, fawning over the anomaly like sycophants, arranging for their future as his personal adherents¡­ it was troubling, to say the least. What was more disturbing was the fact they had somehow been able to completely erase any record of their mission in the Tower of Magic¡¯s archives. As far as he could tell, they succeeded in hiding any actionable link they had to the Tower of Magic. As a result, when they completed their evaluation and filed their paperwork, they¡¯d be legally free to join the anomaly¡¯s personal house without consequence. ¡®Troubling indeed,¡¯ he thought to himself while stroking his chin. With their help, which was shamelessly being abused by the anomaly, they¡¯d taken care of his legal troubles concerning his finances, irrevocably tied House Verena to him, and mitigated his troubles with the local nobility through quiet threats and subterfuge. He¡¯d even seen evidence of them subtly steering public opinion through local link commentators and faction leaders. The amount of support they were giving Lord Walker was baffling, and more than a little concerning. ¡®Just what are they planning?¡¯ he wondered. Sitting in his chair, he sipped his tea as his mind deftly manipulated multiple screens and managed his communication links. All while keeping a close eye on the anomaly¡¯s incredibly confusing actions. Despite his many years of experience, he couldn¡¯t understand why the young man was so set on charging into danger and recruiting his ¡®wackos¡¯. ¡®While cleverly descriptive, calling his retinue that is more than a little juvenile,¡¯ he thought to himself with a frown. A few days ago, when he¡¯d gone out of his way to explain to the young man why he needed to stay in Dorchester, he¡¯d never expected this level of recklessness. He¡¯d even worked quickly to influence the quests being offered by Dorchester¡¯s council of leadership to allow him to stay in the Tower of Magic, abusing his natural affinity to perceive essence to support the army from afar. Between the availability of magic tombs and the safety of the assignment, he¡¯d estimated a 93% chance that the anomaly would have leapt at the chance to avoid being on the front lines. Had something influenced events that he hadn¡¯t noticed? The memory of the young man¡¯s decision to join in the noble war came unbidden to his mind. He recalled flashes of the multiple times the little bastard had professed his desire to be an all-powerful mage, free to manipulate reality at his whim. The memory of him proclaiming his idiotic and absurd desire to seek out adventure and magic while ignoring everything around him caused the arch-mage to physically flinch with annoyance. ¡®Perhaps the personality model I built for him could do with a little adjusting,¡¯ he thought to himself sourly. Yet, when it was all said and done, he¡¯d gotten what he wanted, hadn¡¯t he? The young man was set to solve this little issue with the kobalds, and he¡¯d more than likely stick around long enough to deal with the density shift and subsequent beast tides, wouldn¡¯t he? As long as Dorchester survived, the Tower of Fate would be proven incompetent, and his plans for social restructuring would continue without disruption. Even better, as long as the young man survived, he¡¯d probably go through a massive level of growth with all the experience he¡¯d be getting with events and situations he¡¯d never encountered before. Perhaps the arch-mage would be able to glean something from watching how the young man interacted with the ether in a more direct manner than he had been up until now. The anomaly was special, an untapped resource of amazing potential. Who knows how much the arch-mage could learn from just watching him? All it would take is some subtle manipulations to keep the reckless young man alive. That couldn¡¯t be too difficult, could it? ¡ª-- Nero stared at the poster-sized printout with an expression of disbelief on his face. ¡®Has Nick somehow developed a sense of humor when I wasn¡¯t looking?¡¯ he wondered. Filling the entire sheet was the house crest Nick was proposing for House Walker. Within a white circle with a stylized edge, there was a large gray wall, complete with battlements and a gate. Nero could only assume it was supposed to represent the walls of Dorchester. Above the wall, in extravagant teal lettering, was ¡®The House of Walker¡¯, and below it were the house words he¡¯d chosen, ¡®Game. Win. Repeat.¡¯. Then, inside the gate, there was an open book, tilted back so that a ball of orange and yellow light hovered above its pages. But, what Nero found truly disturbing was the fact that the little ball of light had black lines forming the evil smiley face he¡¯d arbitrarily proposed. To Nero, this didn¡¯t look anything like a house crest. Of course, he hadn¡¯t seen what passed for one in this world, so he shouldn¡¯t have been so surprised¡­ but still, he found it extremely off-putting. Nick, seeing Nero was having trouble deciding how he felt about the crest, helpfully added, ¡°As you can see, I incorporated your house¡¯s colors and words. The gate of Dorchester protects a book representing your desire for magic, and the flame of your essence is fueled by its contents.¡± Nero looked up from the overly-fancy, while utterly boring picture, and asked, ¡°And this isn¡¯t going to get me laughed at by every noble who sees it?¡± Nick frowned in offense, while Academian Quincy chimed in, ¡°Not at all. The lettering is quite well done. I believe the base language Lord Verena used is rooted in ¡®Bansite¡¯ if I¡¯m not mistaken. And the imagery conveys your attitude and beliefs quite well I think.¡± Apparently, it was now Nero¡¯s turn to frown, as he looked back at the large poster and bit back the numerous insults that came to mind. ¡®Treating an evil smiley face as anything other than an attempt at mockery just seems¡­ wrong,¡¯ he decided. The crest was, all in all, incredibly detailed. He almost wanted to lean closer to see if he could recognize what was written on the pages of the book. The lettering for his house¡¯s name and words were bordered and shaded, and the outline of the circle reminded him of the Celtic tattoos he used to see on douchebags coming into his store for gaming phones. Even the wall and its gate were detailed and shaded as if they were a picture rather than stock art. Yet, he couldn¡¯t stop staring at the ball of flame in the middle which continued to stubbornly glare back at him. Tearing his eyes away, he said, ¡°I guess it¡¯s fine. It¡¯s not like I¡¯ll be seeing it all that much.¡± Nick, looking about as furious as Nero had ever seen him, replied, ¡°If you don¡¯t like it, you don¡¯t have to use it! It¡¯s not like I spent the past day consulting experts in the archives and having the hells be damned thing drawn out by hand.¡± The narrative has been taken without permission. Report any sightings. Nero flinched at the rebuke, quickly backpedaling. ¡°It¡¯s not that I don¡¯t like it. It¡¯s just that it represents me too well. It¡¯s like looking into a mirror! You truly nailed it, Nick. Thank you.¡± Nick¡¯s frown vanished, his smile slowly returning to his face. Looking down at the poster with a fond look on his face, he replied, ¡°I did, didn¡¯t I? Your fiery and determined personality, built on knowledge and protected by walls of elemental stone, floating in an emptiness that keeps you safe from those you don¡¯t trust.¡± Nero¡¯s jaw dropped as he looked over at his friend. Glancing around the table, he was stunned to see Academian Quincy, Vera, and Scholar Idrius all nodding in unison as if Nick had said something incredibly profound. Looking back at the poster with a grimace, Nero thought to himself with some venom, ¡®This touchy-feely, hippy-loving, self-help-obsessed world really ought to go suck a dick.¡¯ Refusing to spend any more time dealing with this, he leaned back from the table and said, ¡°OK. So, you guys can go file that with whoever needs to see it. I¡¯m going to go see how Cathleen is doing with the wackos.¡± Vera shook her head and said, ¡°Do you truly have to call them that? It doesn¡¯t even remotely make sense to anyone but you.¡± Nero glared at her and replied, ¡°It¡¯s not supposed to. Giving a group of people a name like that is intended to subtly form a sense of camaraderie and kinship. It¡¯s a form of team-building. The fact that it also implies that they are willing to do crazy things for the sake of the W.A.C. will hopefully foster a willingness to follow me into whatever dumb-ass situation I find myself in. At some point, someone will say, ¡®We can¡¯t do that?!? That¡¯s crazy!¡¯, and I¡¯ll be able to reply, ¡®Of course we can! We¡¯re wackos!¡¯ Not only will it be hilarious, it¡¯s also a totally boss way of controlling the troops.¡± Academian Quincy looked over at Nero with an expression of doubt, and asked, ¡°Do you actually expect them to fall for that?¡± Nero looked at him in shock. ¡°What do you mean ¡®fall for it¡¯? I¡¯m talking about a sense of identity for all of House Walker, including me. From the moment I showed up in this world, I¡¯ve had to embrace the madness just so I don¡¯t end up going insane. You do realize how absolutely bat-shit crazy you all are, don¡¯t you? For God¡¯s sake, you legalized corruption and have state-sponsored psychological testing centers! Me calling my troops wackos isn¡¯t anything other than descriptive.¡± Both Nick and Vera looked rather offended, and Nick spat, ¡°They¡¯re not psychological testing ce-¡± Nero interrupted him with a dismissive wave. ¡°Yeah, yeah. They are centers for people to go to so that they can find their path. Whatever.¡± Surprisingly, Academian Quincy was having trouble stifling his laughter at Nero¡¯s harsh evaluation of Oglivarchian society. Nero offered Nick a friendly smirk to take the edge off of his insult, letting the man know that he was only joking¡­ well, mostly joking. ¡°All right, I¡¯m off. Let me know if you guys need anything.¡± Turning around, Nero headed out to see how Cathleen was faring with the training. Making his way through the halls of the Verena estate, he used his link to get directions to the basement. While accessing it, he noticed that he had a few pings waiting for him in his inbox. Groaning in annoyance, he tried to go through them quickly as the last thing he needed was Vera berating him for ignoring them at some point in the not-so-distant future. Among the pings was the quest confirmation Academian Quincy and the general had worked out, along with a formal pass for Nero and his adherents to join the battle outside the walls. Looking closely, he saw that it didn¡¯t have a specified time frame, indicating that he could take as long as he wanted with the training he was doing. Unfortunately, there was also an attached report about how long the mountainside engagement was projected to continue. ¡®If we don¡¯t get moving in the next day or so, we¡¯re going to miss all the action,¡¯ he thought to himself with a grimace. Another ping was from the Tower of Law, updating him on how his exceptions from the exploit he found have changed with him being upgraded to the status of a unique¡­ and probably some more information that he didn¡¯t get to. After reading through a few paragraphs of incomprehensible legal jargon, he decided that he didn¡¯t want to deal with it and forwarded it to Vera. Pausing his steps, he thought it over, then decided to also send a copy to Academian Quincy. The man had made it more than clear that he intended to fill the administrative position within his new personal house. Next was a comprehensive report from Vera on the financial status of House Verena, along with his projected income as the defacto boss behind the boss. Replying with a quick, ¡®Great job! Keep up the good work!¡¯ he marked it as read and moved on. A copy of his initial evaluation from Scholar Idrius was quickly archived, along with an updated House Walker roster from Cathleen. As he made his way through the halls, his mind got better and better at evaluating and dismissing what he was reading. ¡®If they keep giving me a meeting summary after every conversation we have, I¡¯m gonna freaking lose it,¡¯ he thought to himself while trying to reign in his annoyance with their obsessive-compulsive culture. Just then, he received a fresh ping from Academian Quincy which covered the Tower of Law''s formal acceptance of his house¡¯s crest, colors, words, etc. Growling, Nero immediately marked it read and closed the connection to his pings. Instead of losing his mind and lashing out in frustration, he focused on the map he¡¯d uploaded from the estate¡¯s hub. Quickening his pace, he made his way toward the training rooms in the basement. Before long, he started to hear the sounds of combat going on in the distance. The stone walls under the estate made him feel like he was making his way into a large dungeon, and the subdued essence lighting running along the walls only added to the oppressive atmosphere. After walking down a ridiculously long hallway, he stepped through the overly large wooden doors and saw his adherents broken up into groups, working on physical combat drills. Off to the side of the incredibly large room, he saw Cathleen overseeing several wackos trying to kill each other with what he could only assume were abilities, as they sure as hell didn¡¯t look like spells from what his essence field was telling him. Making his way across the stadium-sized room, he once again marveled at how magic was so casually used in the building of simple training rooms like this. Whether or not it was some kind of space magic at work or just completely incomprehensible engineering, he couldn¡¯t say. Either way, it was both useful and very, very cool. Stepping up next to Cathleen, he asked, ¡°What¡¯s cookin¡¯, good lookin¡¯?¡± Cathleen was standing in what Nero considered her usual pose, her arms crossed and her spear casually leaning against her shoulder. In response to Nero¡¯s question, she grunted and replied, ¡°They¡¯re all going to die.¡± Nero¡¯s eyebrows rose in surprise at her blunt and frightening assessment. Taking a closer look at the combat going on all around him, he couldn¡¯t understand how she came to that delightfully depressing conclusion. Cathleen glanced over at Nero¡¯s confused expression and reluctantly clarified herself. ¡°They aren¡¯t trained in military combat tactics. If they face anything more dangerous than a group of uncoordinated bandits who do nothing but run at them screaming from the trees, they¡¯re going to get overrun and killed before they manage to get their shields up.¡± Nero chuckled at the imagery but quickly dismissed it as simply pessimism. Looking up at her with a smirk, he said, ¡°You know, I went into combat without any training to work in a unit or anything, and I survived just fine.¡± Cathleen didn¡¯t bother looking over at Nero, her focus staying on the flashy combat going on in front of her. ¡°You shouldn¡¯t have. You got lucky. The fact that most of the elites around you knew what they were doing was the only reason I didn¡¯t have to pull your body out of the fight to be resuscitated. I also have to reluctantly admit that you are surprisingly skilled for having so little experience,¡± she said with a frown. Nero didn¡¯t let her half-hearted compliment get to him. He was well aware of how easily she and any number of people he¡¯d been training with could tear him apart. Deciding to trust in the woman, as she had accepted the position as his personal general, he asked, ¡°Well, General Averett. What would you suggest?¡± Frowning, she replied with a harsh tone, ¡°I told you that you can¡¯t just decide to call someone a general. At best, I¡¯d be your guard captain. When you manage to have a personal force of over 50,000 you can start referring to me as a general.¡± Nero snorted. ¡®Yeah, like that¡¯s ever going to happen,¡¯ he thought to himself. Continuing on, Cathleen said, ¡°But if you want my opinion on how to handle this lot, I¡¯d have to say it will take at least 6 months to get them into fighting shape.¡± Nero¡¯s eyes widened in shock. Once again, he looked around at the hard-working wackos, wondering how she could have so little faith in them. From what he could see, they were all surprisingly skilled. Hell, every one of them could probably kick his ass if he was being honest with himself. With what almost looked like a shadow of an evil smirk on her face, she added, ¡°Since we don¡¯t have that kind of time. I recommend we instead join in on the frontlines as soon as possible. They have a basic understanding of a shield wall, and we have 3 people capable of casting healing. Not to mention you, who can both heal and act as an emergency medic. As long as we¡¯re careful, we should be able to recover from any losses we may suffer.¡± Nero didn¡¯t like that she was more than willing to lead them to their deaths. However, he had promised himself that he was going to embrace the crazy and that¡¯s exactly what he was going to do. Every one of them had asked to join him in fighting the good fight, and seeking out adventure wherever he found it. Right now, that adventure was just outside Dorchester¡¯s walls¡­ waiting for them. He could almost feel his fingertips itching to cast some combat magic and get back to the fighting. After spending a few weeks out in the wilds, under constant threat, he found himself feeling constrained and uncomfortable with all the safety and security he¡¯d been subjected to. Nodding, he said, ¡°Alright. I put you in charge of the wackos, so I¡¯ll trust your judgment. Hopefully, you won¡¯t get us all killed.¡± Smiling widely, he added, ¡°Tomorrow we¡¯ll head out and join the troops beating back the surface incursion. You and Commander Natalie will have command. When we¡¯re in the field, just treat me like one of the wackos. For now, carry on with training.¡± Turning around, he started walking back toward the doors. He had some reading to do, along with some serious thinking about how this was all going to work. While saying that he was going to build an adventuring company was all well and good, he had absolutely no idea how to do it when he wasn¡¯t in front of a computer or sitting on his ass with stat sheets and miniatures in front of him. Before he even managed to get three paces away from her, Cathleen¡¯s steely voice halted him in his tracks. ¡°Where do you think you¡¯re going? Pull out your weapon and join a sparring group. You¡¯re also on healing duty, so be sure to keep your center steady.¡± Nero looked over his shoulder in surprise. Unfortunately, judging by the glare she was drilling him with, the woman was utterly serious about his participation. Grumbling, he started taking off his robes to change into his combat leathers, not even bothering to find a quiet corner to change in. He¡¯d long forgotten what shame felt like after having been showering and living with people in such close proximity over the last few weeks. As he was pulling down his pants, he heard Cathleen call out, ¡°And stop referring to Ms. Keening as a commander. She¡¯s a team leader at best. Call her Leader Keening, or nothing at all.¡± Muttering under his breath, he said, ¡°Like hell I¡¯m going to call someone under my command ¡®leader¡¯. I really should have read that stupid organizational chart she made. Stupid useful information hidden inside stupid useless pings¡­¡± Cathleen¡¯s voice snapped him out of his mutterings. ¡°What was that little lord?¡± she said threateningly. Looking up from tying the straps on his pants he¡¯d pulled out of his personal space, he replied quickly, ¡°Nothing. Don¡¯t mind me, just go back to terrorizing someone else. I¡¯ll be with you shortly.¡± Seeing her nod once in satisfaction before returning her attention to the two people trying to kill each other in front of her, Nero thought to himself, ¡®Crazy freaking bitch is going to be the death of me¡­ again.¡¯ Chapter 187 - The most important meal of the day. After finally joining up with the main assault force beating back the kobalds, Captain Angleton was able to get his elites some fresh supplies and rest. But, before he could enjoy some bunk time, he¡¯d have to check in with whoever was currently in charge. Making his way to the command tent, he ducked under the entryway and reported to the commander leading the engagement. Looking up from the table, which was currently displaying a hologram of their force distribution, the commander locked eyes with Captain Angleton and said, ¡°We were expecting you yesterday, what kept you?¡± Captain Angleton stood tall, his presence filling the room despite how many aides, captains, and other soldiers were currently in the tent. ¡°It was difficult to make our way around the kobald lines. While our initial intention was to act as a distracting force from the rear, we may have been a little overzealous with our probing attacks. The kobalds quickly decided to throw everything they could at us. We were forced to either retreat into mountain caves and hope for rescue, or choose to fight limited engagements while circling around the engagement area. It took longer than expected to break through.¡± Snorting at the understatement, Commander Dahl replied, ¡°Losses?¡± Captain Angelton stonily replied, ¡°None, Sir.¡± Nodding, the commander returned to staring at the hologram hovering in the middle of the wooden table. ¡°When will you and your elites be ready to re-engage with the enemy?¡± Not even taking a moment to think, the captain replied, ¡°12 hours. We¡¯ve already bunked down with the reserves and are getting some rest. We¡¯ll resupply and be ready to join the lines after getting some well-earned sleep.¡± Nodding, but not looking away from the battle, the commander replied, ¡°Very well, captain. I¡¯ll be deploying you and your elites in the morning. Go and get yourself some rest. You can also expect a commendation in your file for your excellent work. You¡¯re dismissed.¡± Offering the commander a quick nod, Captain Angelton turned on his heel and made his way out of the tent. Upon leaving, he offered a nod to the guards at the entrance before seeing Sergeant Blackwood get up from the chair he¡¯d been lazily enjoying. Holding back a snort at his friend¡¯s carefree attitude, as it wouldn¡¯t be proper to break his decorum, Captain Angleton began speaking the moment the sergeant approached, ¡°We¡¯ve got 12 hours to get some rest and resupply our troops. You and Collins are to make sure we get our gear sorted and be sure to have everyone pick up a few extra shields and throwing spears.¡± Nodding easily as he hurried to keep up with the Captain¡¯s long strides, Sergeant Blackwood replied, ¡°Yeah, those little bastards sure do like to chip away at the shields as if they had targets on them. But are you sure you don¡¯t want to assign archer squads again? They really helped keep the waves light enough to deal with at walk. I don¡¯t think spears are going to be much help comparatively.¡± The captain shrugged a little as if he were conceding the point. ¡°Having some archers thin out the kobalds worked well while we were making our way around the main assault force, but we¡¯re going to be facing them head-on now. We need to keep our lines tight and spears are reusable as we push our way forward. Based on how far our forces have pushed them back while we were busy in the mountains, we should be able to force them back underground in a day or two,¡± the captain said, his voice declaring it as if it were obvious. Sergeant Blackwood grimaced, and replied, ¡°Sure. Just like when you said it would only take a day to make it through the kobalds and get back here. Or when you said that they wouldn¡¯t bother sending siege worms to try and cut us off. Or when¡­¡± Interrupting the sergeant''s complaining, Captain Angelton¡¯s steely voice replied, ¡°You¡¯ve made your point. Have everyone who was on archer detail replenish their arrows and see if we can get some more essence bows.¡± Smiling widely, Sergeant Blackwood replied, ¡°Yes, Sir. I must say, seeing your forethought and tactical acumen in action is more than a little inspiring.¡± Turning to look at the shorter man struggling to keep up with the pace he was keeping, Captain Angleton said, ¡°Sergeant Blackwood¡­.¡± The sergeant looked up at him with a smile and asked, ¡°Yes, captain?¡± Looking away, Captain Angelton ordered, ¡°Stop talking.¡± Thoroughly enjoying getting under his friend, the captain¡¯s skin, the sergeant replied, ¡°Of course, Sir. Right away, Sir. Consider this conversation concluded. Perhaps, when we get back to the troops you¡¯d like to¡­¡± Cutting him off again, the captain barked, ¡°Seargent!¡± Coughing into his hand to hide his amusement, the sergeant replied, ¡°Right, Sir. Sorry, Sir. I will endeavor to keep my thoughts to myself.¡± They continued walking for a few paces in silence until the sergeant continued, ¡°I would however like to mention that ¡­¡± ¡°Sergeant!¡± the captain shouted, finally getting fed up enough to infuse his presence into the surrounding ether. Flinching, the sergeant snapped his mouth shut. However, moments later he couldn¡¯t help but crack a smile. After all, now that they were back with the rest of the army, he was enjoying the fact that he was still alive and could resume his favorite pastime. Which of course was cracking his long-time friend¡¯s envious iron-like control. ¡ª-- Nero woke from another confusing series of what he charitably referred to as dreams. They were somewhat like nightmares but didn¡¯t leave him waking in cold sweats or suffering from a restless sleep. After dragging himself to his shower, he leaned against the wall and let himself enjoy the hot water streaming down his back while mentally reviewing what he¡¯d seen. Images of kobalds holding some kind of social ceremony with dancing in front of bonfires. Odd cave-like buildings filled with serious-looking kobalds of varying sizes and colors. Meetings and religious ceremonies with smoke-filled cathedrals carved out of mountain stone with stalactites and fire-wreathed chandeliers filling the room with dancing shadows and ominous chanting. Throughout it all was that pervasive sense of destiny, a communal desire to seek out new territory and take it as their own. The innate need to make everything like their home¡­ to make it correct. There was almost an underlying hatred for anything that was not them, not theirs, not¡­ something. Shaking off the remnants of his weird dream, he shut off the shower and went to go get dressed. Today called for his combat leathers, as he had some kobalds to kill along with some magic to copy. As he strapped on his boots, he couldn¡¯t help but smile at the thought of all the spells he¡¯d hopefully be seeing in action. Between the mages who¡¯d be fighting and the enemy kobald casters, he expected it to end up being a very productive and educational day. Unlawfully taken from Royal Road, this story should be reported if seen on Amazon. Thinking of the kobalds, images of last night¡¯s dreams flashed in his head once again. Shaking his head quickly to dismiss them, he thought to himself, ¡®Maybe these dreams aren¡¯t just my overactive imagination playing with itself. I should probably talk to someone about this.¡¯ Before that thought could fully take root, the alarm he¡¯d set in hisroom went off again. Looking up at the ceiling in annoyance, he reached out through his link to turn off the reminder to get his ass out of bed and pretend to be the leader everyone thinks he is. ¡®These idiots would probably follow a golden retriever into battle if it went out and got itself the title of ¡®the most specialist doggo in the kingdom¡¯ somehow,¡¯ he thought to himself sourly. After leaving his room, he quickly made his way through the Verena estate¡¯s hallways until he arrived at the large living room they¡¯d been using for almost everything lately. Seeing pretty much everyone already here, he joined them at their tables for breakfast. Considering how early it was, he wasn¡¯t surprised to see the first rays of sunlight making their way through the tall windows looking out into one of the courtyards. Everyone looked ready, their faces filled with determination and excitement. He didn¡¯t see a single person looking worried, or reluctant to follow him into the arguably idiotic battle he¡¯d agreed to fight. Even Nick seemed to be expecting to come along, as he was dressed in his combat gear. Nero found himself profoundly touched that his friend was willing to come along, but also worried about how Vera would be feeling about him putting himself in danger once again. After greeting a few of his wackos with ¡®good mornings¡¯ and some platitudes like ¡®it¡¯s a good day to kill some kobalds¡¯, ¡®let¡¯s show them what we¡¯re made of¡¯, etc, he made his way over to what thought could be called the command table. Nick, Vera, Quincy, Idrius, Cathleen, and surprisingly Rose were all sitting around a hologram, enjoying their breakfast with serious looks on their faces. As he approached, he could hear Cathleen going over how they¡¯d be deployed and how she expected the day to go. Whether or not she was trying to alleviate Vera¡¯s concerns, or just doing some last-minute planning, Nero had no idea. ¡°Good morning, ladies and gents. Are we excited for the first official mission of The Walker Adventuring Company?¡± he asked cheerily. Everyone¡¯s eyes other than Cathleen¡¯s looked up at him in greeting, while she continued to stare at the hologram depicting the battle lines, complete with little icons depicting things Nero couldn¡¯t begin to comprehend. Academian Quincy was the first to reply, ¡°I for one am excited to once again see combat conditions. It must be almost 25, maybe 30 years since the last time I was out in the wilds. I¡¯m a little surprised at how much I¡¯m looking forward to it actually.¡± Nero paused halfway into his seat, his eyes widening as he froze above his chair. ¡°You mean you plan on fighting with us?¡± he asked incredulously. Returning Nero¡¯s stare with a look of offense, he replied, ¡°Of course! I, along with 5 of the evaluators will be coming along to see how you perform in combat conditions. Did you think we¡¯d just sit behind the walls and watch?¡± Nero managed to take his seat, setting down his cup of coffee and plate. Coughing into his hand in embarrassment, he replied, ¡°Well, kinda. It¡¯s not as if you¡¯re dressed for it. You¡¯re still wearing that totally not-stupid light on your head. So, I just assumed you were only going to be contributing your moral support to this little expedition.¡± With a wave of his hand, Academian Quincy¡¯s clothes transformed into dark gray combat robes with teal highlights. Leather straps crisscrossed under his arms, holding what looked like metal rods under his armpits. He went from looking like a comical human-sized nightlight into a full-blown war wizard. Staring in awe at the glowing runes running along the edges of the robe, Nero whispered, ¡°You¡¯ve got to show me how the hell you just did that. I didn¡¯t see a single spell or even feel the essence change around you. Holy hell that badass,¡± he mumbled, almost in a whisper. The entire table began chuckling, while Nick leaned forward across the table to ask, ¡°Are those actual casting rods? Are those even legal here?¡± Nero¡¯s admiration turned to confusion, glancing down at the metal rods poking out from under Academian Quincy¡¯s shoulders. ¡°Why yes they are. I¡¯m surprised you recognize them. Granted, Dorchester isn¡¯t advanced enough to have them, but I¡¯m more than capable of supplying the essence needed for their operation. As a member of the Royal Academy, I¡¯m perfectly within my rights to carry my personal weapons into combat. Although I won¡¯t be able to make much of a difference in the battle¡­ if threatened, I have the right to defend myself,¡± the academian replied with a smirk. Not truly grasping the subtext he was obviously missing, Nero was about to ask for clarification before Cathleen interrupted him. ¡°If you and the evaluators plan on being present during the fighting, I¡¯ll need you to send me personal profiles of everyone who will be coming along with you. I will not have unknowns within my battle group, Royal Academians or not. Am I understood?¡± she asked harshly, her tone completely unamused at what appeared to be a last-minute change of plans. While Scholar Idrius stiffened in her seat, Academian Quincy merely smiled lightly and replied, ¡°Of course Battle Leader. Our blades and magic are yours to command, as much as they can be that is. We¡¯ll still of course have to abide by the relevant accords, but I¡¯m sure you¡¯ll manage to put us to good use.¡± Nero frowned, finally realizing what they were talking about. As a high-level mage, Quincy probably wasn¡¯t allowed to help Dorchester with its fight. And his ¡®casting rods¡¯ must be illegal items in such a low-level area or something. It wasn¡¯t as if he hadn¡¯t listened to all the explanations Nick and everyone had given him, it was just that he hadn¡¯t expected to see a practical example of Oglivarchian idiocy in action so soon. While he fully comprehended the reason behind their weird, ¡®you must learn to survive on your own¡¯ mentality, he just couldn¡¯t bring himself to agree with it. As far as he was concerned, it was like a parent letting their kid get hit by a truck to teach the other kids why looking both ways before crossing the street was so important. While effective, it was way too brutal for Nero¡¯s delicate sensibilities¡­ which was quite a surprising realization for an asshole like Nero to come to. Deciding to change the subject, he turned to Nick and asked, ¡°You sure you want to come along? I don¡¯t think you need to put in any more time with the elites after the official battle we had, do you?¡± Nick smiled and replied, ¡°No, technically the battle we had on the mountain to disrupt the kobald gate was enough to complete my trial. I¡¯ve already filed my patent of nobility with the Tower of Law,¡± he said. Looking to his right, Nick locked eyes with Vera and continued while patting her hand, ¡°Vera and I discussed it last night. While I¡¯m now fully a lord in my own right, what kind of branch lord would I be if I didn¡¯t follow my house head into battle? I won¡¯t be taking my house''s forces, but I want to be with you during your first foray as unique fulfilling your purpose.¡± Nero couldn¡¯t help but smile at the display of affection his two pseudo-parental figures were showing. He almost burst out in laughter at seeing Vera¡¯s normally calm demeanor soften in the face of Nick¡¯s heartfelt tone. Cathleen, seemingly oblivious to the conversations going on around her spoke up, ¡°Lord Walker, I believe everyone has finished eating, and is now ready to move out. In truth, most of us were waiting for you to arrive. If we want to get to the front lines for a full day of battle, we¡¯ll have to get going.¡± Nero looked over at her, surprised at the sudden seriousness in her tone. Feeling the essence in the room shift, he saw that everyone at the other tables was now looking over at him with intense, hopeful eyes. Shifting in his seat uncomfortably, he replied, ¡°Of course. I can finish my meal while we head out.¡± Picking up his pastry and downing the last of his coffee, he stood up to get going. Pausing, he noticed no one else was getting up. Everyone was still looking at him, and the essence in the room made it very clear that they were all waiting for something¡­ eagerly at that. Feeling a soft push on his mind from Nick, he opened the connection to hear the man say, ¡°Nero, you have to say a few words. You¡¯re their house head, their leader. They expect a short speech at the very least before they go off and fight for you.¡± Nero stood there, his pasty dangling uncomfortably in his hand. ¡®Shouldn¡¯t this kind of thing wait until we actually arrive at the battlefield?¡¯ he thought to himself. Feeling like he was standing in front of his employees for their weekly corporate update, he tried channeling his manager mode. Straightening up, he ran his eyes across the room, trying to meet everyones eyes at least once. ¡°I know you all joined up with me for various reasons. Whether it was to escape a life of boredom or to push yourselves into new levels with experiences you couldn¡¯t find here in Dorchester, each and every one of you signed up for a life of something ¡®more¡¯... a life of adventure. Today we take our first steps together into a wider world. Even though we¡¯ll still be fighting for Dorchester, and on the surface nothing is changing, in reality, everything is. We¡¯re going out to fight for no one but ourselves. We¡¯re going out to test our mettle against enemies that want nothing more than to tear down the walls and remake the world into a landscape of charred rock and barren soil. Our choice to fight is not for some imagined duty, or for the greater good of Oglivarch. We¡¯re going to be fighting because we want to. The intention is everything. So stand up, grab your gear, and follow me into battle¡­ one of OUR choosing, one we fight for OUR reasons. Out there is the adventure we¡¯ve been waiting our entire lives for, and together we will embrace it with both hands. So, follow me, and today will mark our first steps toward the shared destiny we will forge together. Let everyone know that the Walker Adventuring Group is here, and our path will not be determined by anyone but us!¡± he finished with a shout, holding up his pastry as if it were a sword. While everyone did stand up and join him, he didn¡¯t exactly get the response he had been hoping for. There was no great cheer or rousing declarations of their eminent victory. Instead, he saw thoughtful looks with an undercurrent of determination. Through the link he still had open with Nick, he heard, ¡°Well, not exactly Tiberon¡¯s call to victory, but I guess it will do. It was a little self-serving, wasn¡¯t it? Perhaps next time you don¡¯t have to make it so obvious that you¡¯re only doing this because you feel like it. Maybe try and sound a little more¡­ hero-like?¡± Mentally sneering, Nero replied, ¡°Yeah, that¡¯s not going to happen. The W.A.C. is all about its members and getting ourselves paid while fighting interesting monsters and experiencing crazy fantasy shit that we can brag about to whoever will listen. We¡¯re in it for the LOL¡¯s Nick¡­ we¡¯re in it for the LOL¡¯s.¡± As the entire room began organizing itself under Cathleen''s loud barking orders, Nero heard Nick reply, ¡°While I had hoped your intentions were a little more noble, you having such a ¡®unique¡¯ outlook isn¡¯t all that much of a surprise now that I think about it.¡± Chuckling, Nero replied, ¡°Holy shit, Nick. You can make puns even with the translation thing going on? You have no idea what this means, do you?¡± Meeting Nick¡¯s eyes, Nero couldn¡¯t stop himself from smirking at the confused look on the man¡¯s face. Chapter 188 - Once more into the... battle. Glancing up from the hologram displaying the real-time scrying feed from the Tower of Magic, Commander Dahl watched Captain Angleton leave the tent. The man was more impressive than he remembered him being. Even his presence was considerably stronger than he recalled. He¡¯d heard word days ago that the captain had somehow earned the ire of the general. And while he hadn¡¯t been ¡®ordered¡¯ to dispose of the man, his superiors had it made very clear that preventing Captain Angleton¡¯s return to Dorchester would see him rewarded. Ever since he¡¯d joined the military, he¡¯d always struggled to keep politics out of his command. However, sometimes there wasn¡¯t much he could do about it. When faced with a man like the general, he didn¡¯t have much choice but to turn his head and pretend he didn¡¯t see anything. And for the most part, it had worked. He¡¯d risen through the ranks quickly. From his beginnings on the road crews, he¡¯d served in almost every department of Dorchester¡¯s army. At one point, he¡¯d even been in nominal command of the captain. Though, that was years ago. Thinking back, he remembered the young man¡¯s much smaller frame standing in front of his desk at Gate 7 command. The young man¡¯s youthful exuberance was barely contained behind that stoic expression of his. He quite clearly remembered the young man demanding more support for the little reaction squad he¡¯d just been put in charge of. Frowning at the memory, Commander Dahl recalled how that little meeting had turned out. The captain had indeed gotten his support, but as a result, Central Command had thrown him and his troops into the worst situations they could find in retaliation for his audacity. Yet, here he was, still alive. Despite everything he¡¯d been through, he¡¯d just grown stronger in spite of it. It was commendable and inspiring in a way. Sighing, he returned his attention to the hologram in front of him. ¡®You don¡¯t have to like it, you just have to do it,¡¯ he reminded himself grimly. ¡ª-- Nero and his wackos departed the Verena estate without issue. Nick had given Vera a quick kiss goodbye, and Nero was seen off with a firm nod and demand for him to bring her Nicholas home. There was no marching or semblance of formality involved at all. Their trip took advantage of the asta-platforms to save time and brought them directly to the command center nearest to the fighting. Nero wasn¡¯t sure if they were allowed to use the private military teleporters as a result of Cathleen¡¯s careful planning, or Vera¡¯s abuse of this system on his behalf. Either way, he wasn¡¯t about to complain about it. On the way, Cathleen made use of the Thought-hub to connect the entire party¡­ all 35 of them. While she was using it to give everyone a briefing about what they¡¯d be walking into, Nero was struggling to contain the amount of information he was receiving. While the entire party made its way through the streets, Nero was stuck in the middle of the pack feeling everyone¡¯s mind through the link. But what made it even worse was the feeling of all their essence fields bearing down on him with their emotions. It was like he was being assaulted on two fronts, through both his mind and his perception field. It was more than a little annoying. He could tell that no one else was having a problem with it, so he could only chalk it up to another one of his idiosyncrasies. As it wasn¡¯t completely debilitating, he just grit his teeth and kept his mouth shut. After all, he had more important things he should be worrying about. Namely, Cathleen¡¯s briefing which he¡¯d been ignoring. Shaking off his discomfort, Nero listened in on the plan. Apparently, Cathleen had done her due diligence after being given command, and her plans were surprisingly thorough. She¡¯d already contacted the commander of the battle, Commander Dahl, and arranged for them to join in with the daily reinforcements coming in from the supply camp. She covered their likely deployment orders. How they¡¯d be fighting under shield generators. The unit breakdowns and team assignments. Both methods for quickly eliminating koblads, and how to deal with surprises. She kept her voice firm and professional, and Nero could feel the entire party synching up their emotions as if they were slowly becoming a single field. For Nero, it was an impressive thing to witness. The manifestation of everyone coming together spiritually for a singular purpose was something he hadn¡¯t noticed before. In a way, it resembled the mobs he and the others had fought in the wilds. However, the resulting essence fields working in coordination were drastically weaker than what he¡¯d seen with the actual mobs. While Nero was distracted with his observations, Cathleen made it clear that the five-man team leaders should keep an active connection with her. She referred to it as the command connection, and Nero could tell that everyone seemed to already understand what she was talking about. As it seemed rather self-explanatory, he didn¡¯t bother to interrupt the briefing to ask for clarification. Looking around, he could see the citizenry of Dorchester watching them pass. He couldn¡¯t help but think how weird it was for a group of well-armed people in various types of armor to walk down the street without anyone feeling threatened or calling the police. With the party all paying attention to the briefing, there was utter silence in their gaggle of mercenaries. They weren¡¯t marching, or bothering with any sort of formation. It was just a large group of grim-faced people stomping down the road with their weapons on display for everyone to see. Shaking his head at the mental imagery of what they must look like, he refocused on what Cathleen was saying. In quick and simple terms, she reminded everyone to stay in formation, watch out for each other, and that they shouldn¡¯t wait to call out for healing when needed. Nero found himself marveling at how incredibly easy she was making everything sound. Compared to what he¡¯d dealt with while serving with the elites, Cathleen was doing an amazing job of making it sound like they were heading out for a fun activity under the sun, rather than a perilous fight against the horde of kobalds they were actually looking forward to. Yet, like all things, her briefing eventually came to an end. After making their way through the same gate they¡¯d used the last time he¡¯d gone out into the mountains, they picked up their pace and made their way through the outer city to where the army¡¯s tents were set up. For Nero, the drastic difference in what he was seeing was enough to give him chills. He remembered when they¡¯d come through the outer town before, there were people everywhere going about their business without a care in the world. Now, everything was evacuated, and the streets were completely empty. And when they made it past the edges of the outer city, Nero had no problem identifying where the fighting had begun. There was a distinct line of destruction stretching out across the base of the mountain. On one side there was some grass and the typical weeds he¡¯d come to expect with the wilds. On the other, there was ripped-up ground and blood-stained dirt. Despite the bodies having been dragged off somewhere, Nero¡¯s imagination was more than up to the task of filling in the blanks. It looked like the army had fought tooth and nail for every inch of ground between here and where they were currently fighting. It was both impressive and more than a little intimidating. He could still smell the blood in the air, and the remnants of the magic in the ether. He could feel the entire party¡¯s resolve strengthen in response to the grim tableau they were seeing. It was like the communal feeling of determination was being refined the closer to the battlefield they got. Before long, they arrived at the temporary encampment that was in the process of moving up from behind the forward lines. Nero could see hundreds of people running around delivering supplies, or doing whatever they were ordered to do by the people running the show. It was a controlled chaos that made his heartbeat accelerate in harmony with the atmosphere. Off in the distance, he could see the front line further up the mountain. From one side of his sight line to the other, there were thousands of humans beating back the kobalds under what looked like hovering dome-like shields. He could see berms of dirt set up in equidistant intervals, along with mudlike structures that he assumed had to be some time of defensive rallying point. Between the shoulders of the much taller mercenaries in front of him, he drank it all in. It was both terrifying and amazing. It was like watching a movie come to life. All along the lines, he could see spells exploding against the shields, and flickers of color painting the mountain in a sparkling display of death and destruction. He could feel his excitement rising. Soon, he¡¯d be up there in the thick of it, fighting the good fight against the forces of evil, saving humanity, and getting paid well do it. It was a dream come true. If you encounter this tale on Amazon, note that it''s taken without the author''s consent. Report it. ¡°Lord Walker!¡± snapped Cathleen from the front of their poorly organized mob. The wackos parted, letting Nero see that Cathleen was standing next to a few mantle-wearing military folks. Seeing as they were all staring at him, he figured he should step up and say hello. Jogging up while sliding his trusty satchel behind his hip, he waved and greeted them. ¡°A beautiful day for some kobald killing, wouldn¡¯t you say?¡± Unsurprisingly, Nero received nothing but confused stares in return for his enthusiasm. Granted the situation was rather serious, but he couldn¡¯t stop himself from grinning with excitement at what he was doing. ¡®Traipsing up to the front lines with my trusty minions behind me. I truly am a fantasy-level badass in the making,¡¯ he thought to himself proudly. When he arrived at the little meeting, he immediately identified the woman in charge. Although the three other soldiers were all just as intimidating, there was a subtle presence to the woman that demanded respect and obedience from everyone around her. Without even offering a smile or a greeting, the woman started talking. ¡°You and your forces are to be deployed with the 31st Strikers under Captain Neelan. You can locate your immediate commander through the battle hub.¡± Gesturing to both Cathleen and him, she continued, ¡°As you both have been given command authority, your signatures have already been registered. Commander Dahl wanted me to tell you that regardless of your status, you do not have operational control. While Captain Neelan can¡¯t stop you from doing what you want, Commander Dahl asks that you try not to get yourself or anyone else killed. Good luck.¡± Without another word, the woman who hadn¡¯t even bothered to give her name turned on her heel and stomped off. Based on the tone she¡¯d been using, Nero had no idea if the woman was unhappy with him and the W.A.C. being here, or if that was just how she was. Either way, he turned to Cathleen with a grin and said, ¡°You heard the lady. Let¡¯s go find our temporary leader and get into some action.¡± Cathleen¡¯s face broke into what Nero could only describe as a bloodthirsty grin. As she usually kept her face rather stoic, seeing her smile like that was enough to raise the hairs on the back of his neck. ¡°As you command, my lord,¡± she replied, before turning to the rest of the wackos and shouting, ¡°Focus up everyone! We¡¯re heading to the front lines, so get your heads in the game and remember your briefing. Do yourselves and Lord Walker proud. This is the first action of House Walker, and it will be remembered in song and legend long after you¡¯re dead. Fight hard, kill swiftly, and earn your place among Walker¡¯s Wackos!¡± Nero felt his blood boil, as her short but sweet pre-battle speech shook the ground under his feet. From what he could tell from their essence fields, everyone else was equally moved by what she had said. Almost as if it were magic, they split into lines and formed up without anyone uttering a word. From his position in the front, he could see them all grinning like mad men and women ready to throw themselves at the enemy the moment they saw them. It was like a switch had been flipped, and they were all now completely on war footing. Although he didn¡¯t feel entirely ¡®linked¡¯ with them, he did feel it was only natural for him to take his place in one of the lines in the formation. As the group marched off, he felt the connection they were sharing through the link vanish. It was almost like getting dunked in water as his mind cleared. But, before he could give it much thought, he felt another connection reach out to him through his link. It wasn¡¯t exactly like a ping, instead, it was closer to the feeling he had when Nick contacted him directly. Accepting the connection, he heard Cathleen say, ¡°Alright little lord. Stay with your assigned team, and don¡¯t get bogged down in the front. Stay near the back and rely on your magic. Don¡¯t use this connection unless you need to. I¡¯m bringing in the other team leaders, and you sure as hell don¡¯t want them questioning why they signed up to follow you. Just stay focused on what you¡¯re doing, and let me do my job.¡± Nero barely managed to get out, ¡°You got it!¡± before several other connections sprang up. He could feel the team leaders over the link well enough to point them out without issue. Surprisingly, they were all in the front of their lines. And the man directly behind him must be his team leader. Thinking back to the briefing, he tried to keep everything Cathleen had said in the forefront of his mind. It wouldn¡¯t do to make a fool of himself in front of his new followers, now would it? As a group, they jogged through the camp, making their way through tents and supply huts without issue. That was until they finally got to the front lines. When they arrived around 100 ft from the active battle, they were approached by a rough-looking soldier who¡¯d clearly been in the thick of the fighting. Cathleen, who was alone at the front of the formation exchanged a few words with the man before leading them all forward. With every step they took, the tension ratcheted up another notch. Without completely understanding what they were supposed to do, Nero¡¯s eyes darted around like he was trying to spot Waldo. The moment they stepped under the shields, Nero felt like the sky had been cut off from his senses. Whatever these shields were, they were completely different than what he¡¯d gotten used to seeing. Forcing himself away from trying to figure them out, he kept up his jog and watched his footing. Cathleen exchanged a few words with another group of soldiers, this time taking a few minutes to get through the conversation. The moment she was done, they all exchanged nods, and she looked over her shoulder and waved everyone forward. Over the command connection she¡¯d established, she said, ¡°We¡¯re relieving a section that has been fighting since dawn. We¡¯ll be rotating out with them and two other teams. As they have more people than we do, we¡¯ll be a little spread out. However, I expect each and every one of you to keep your teams in line and get the job done. If you notice a problem, fix it and report it. We¡¯re figuring this out as we go, so don¡¯t let your battle lust overwhelm you. Keep it calm. Keep it organized. Any questions?¡± Receiving only silence in return, Nero watched her nod from around 20 feet away. For him, it was still a weird feeling to be having a conversation at such a spread-out distance. But, he didn¡¯t have time to worry about it, as Cathleen was already marching off to find the position they¡¯d be taking over. Keeping his head on a swivel, Nero was able to see a lot more now that he was in the front of the formation. He could see the fighting going on barely 50 or 60 feet from where they were jogging. He could see the mud walls being raised and lowered by mages as they pushed the frontline of the battle ever forward. The sights and sounds were all equally pulling, and he was having trouble forcing himself not to focus on anything in particular. Almost abruptly, Cathleen stopped and turned to stare at the front lines. Hefting her spear in one hand while facing away from the formation, Nero heard her voice over the command connection, ¡°I¡¯ve just received confirmation from Sergeant Moss. In two minutes, they¡¯ll pull back and we¡¯ll take over. Get your teams ready.¡± Nero almost jumped as the man behind him put his hand on his shoulder. Turning around, Nero was surprised to see the man smiling. ¡°Alright, my lord. You just stay in the back and let us do you proud. Thank you for this. I¡¯ve always dreamed about fighting in a battle that meant something.¡± Looking over Nero¡¯s head, the man¡¯s eyes scanned the scene with a look of bone-deep gratitude in his eyes. ¡°Fighting bandits and monsters are nothing when compared to this. One day, I¡¯ll be able to tell my grandchildren that I was here¡­ fighting hordes of goblins and defending the walls like a champion.¡± Nero had no response to that, so he just offered the man a pat on the arm and a smile. ¡®Holy shit, these people keep talking about this like it¡¯s some kind of epic or something. I¡¯m really going to have to step up my indoctrination game to keep up with their weird interpretation of events. Otherwise, if they realize I¡¯m just a guy who likes this type of shit, their disappointment is going to end up with me burning at the stake or something,¡¯ he warned himself. While being stared at by the wackos, all with ready eyes full of excitement, he made his way to the back of his team. He saw everyone around him prepping their weapons and shields, veritably shaking with anticipation of joining the battle. In the back, he could see the evaluators all wearing their combat robes, staying well away from the formation, but close enough to keep watch. When he met the eyes of Academian Quincy, he could swear the man was trying to keep his grin from showing. Drawing his sword, he hesitated to pull his shield out of his personal space. He decided he wouldn¡¯t need it, as his role in the coming battle was going to rely on his magic. Healing and ranged fire was what he was going to be doing, and that was what he was going to focus on. Over the command connection, and through ether, he felt the moment everyone was waiting for. Cathleen¡¯s strong voice shouted, ¡°Now!¡± and as one¡­ they surged. They moved in unison, as the soldiers in front of them opened up and allowed them to take over. It wasn¡¯t nearly as smooth as Nero would have thought it would be, but then again, most of these wackos had probably never done anything like this before. He could see his followers spreading out in a line in front of him, while a few stayed back and started firing arrows and magic over their heads. Looking left and right, Nero felt completely out of place. He took a moment to understand the positioning, then another to watch as the wackos began engaging the chest-high kobalds. They weren¡¯t coming in tight packs like he¡¯d been expecting. If anything, the kobalds were charging the lines as if they were trying to bog them down and stop them from advancing¡­ and it was working. He stood there like an idiot, doing nothing, as he tried to do the mental math of how long it must have taken for the army to advance this far if this was the pace they¡¯d been moving. It was a LONG game of inches to get this far away from where the battle had started. Over the connection, he heard Cathleen¡¯s voice harshly interrupt his musings, ¡°Is everything all right, my lord?¡± Nero whipped his head around to see Cathleen. She was a few sections over almost lazily killing kobalds with her spear. He could see her occasionally glancing over at him with a stern look on her face. Immediately feeling sheepish for having let himself once again get distracted, he replied, ¡°Just taking a minute to drink it all in. No worries.¡± Looking over to his right he saw one of the wackos who had some magical training. Her name was Lisa¡­ or Lita¡­ maybe Janet? Something like that. Reaching out with his perception field, he watched her cast some type of exploding ball of green light that after being thrown over the lines would explode and coat the kobalds in sticky acid. ¡®That looks easy enough,¡¯ he thought with a smile. After switching his sword to his off-hand, he delicately reached into his center and pulled out some essence, carefully copying the spell form she was using. Ignoring everything going on around him, his entire focus was on putting the simple spell together. When he was done, he smiled like an idiot and let it fill itself from the surrounding essence in the ether. Amazingly, he was left with a blob of glowing green light in his hand. Idly letting it bounce up and down a few times, he could feel the potential destruction waiting to be unleashed. It was like an overlay into reality currently feeding off his determination that it actually existed. With his smile from ear to ear, he looked up and threw it like a baseball into the kobald lines making their way forward. He made sure to impart a little center into making sure it wouldn¡¯t just vanish without him holding on to it. Like a disproportionately large water balloon going off, he watched several kobalds stagger under the smoking acid explosion. He could see them gritting their teeth and forcing themselves forward despite the pain making them almost useless in combat. There wasn¡¯t a doubt in his mind that the front lines would have no problem finishing them off. With one hand on his hip, and the other using his sword as something for him to lean on, Nero stared at what he had wrought with appreciation clear on his face. ¡®I wonder if I can somehow combine it with one of the targeting spells so I don¡¯t have to actually throw it?¡¯ he wondered, clearly embracing the idea that he needed to work smarter, not harder. Chapter 189 - Theoritical vs. Practical Academian Quincy stood in the middle of their little formation. Scholars Idrius, Mortem, Yarborow, Vaxas, and Dramit stood alongside him on his left and right. All of them were in their combat robes. Yet, only Academian Quincy and Scholar Idrius had enough personal skill and reserves to maintain an enchantment connection, allowing them to use their preferred robes. Unfortunately for the others, the essence in the ether was simply too thin to maintain anything stronger than the basic enchantments found in the weaker cities of Oglivarch. So, while Academian Quincy and Scholar Idrius were both resplendent in their shining robes lined with glowing arcane runes, the other looked like elitist assholes watching the battle without even bothering to change out of their robes. Yet, none of them were complaining. They were all simply too excited to see Lord Walker in action. Even though they¡¯d seen him fight through memory engrams, seeing it in person allowed them to use all of their senses to figure the young man out. Every one of them had spent more than a few hours trying to discern the thought process behind some of Lord Walker¡¯s actions, not to mention just ¡®how¡¯ he did what he did. So, now that they had been given the opportunity to see him fight in person, they were simply too excited to worry about how vulnerable they were without their normal accessories¡­ or how ridiculous they looked. Standing several paces behind the support section of the lines, they watched in confusion as Lord Walker looked around as if he were deciding whether or not he was actually going to participate. Not knowing what to say in response to his odd behavior, they stood in silence despite their isolated mental connection being hosted by Scholar Idrius for convenience. The first one to break was unsurprisingly Scholar Vaxas. He had always been one of the more impatient members of their little infiltration team. ¡°What¡¯s he doing?¡± he asked, his irritation at not getting to see their new lord doing anything clearly on display. Ignoring him, they all continued to observe Lord Walker with every one of their senses, both ethereal and physical. ¡°Perhaps he is unhappy about how small a section of the line he¡¯s been given?¡± posited Scholar Mortem. Mentally scoffing, Scholar Yarborow replied, ¡°I doubt it. They¡¯re lucky to take over what they have. They¡¯re untested, and can barely field six teams right now. Until he grows his forces, this is the best he can expect.¡± Not missing a beat, Scholar Idrius added her own opinion to the discussion. ¡°I believe he is just soaking in the experience. This is his first large battle from behind the front lines. Before he was on the line, fighting in melee. Now that he is acting as a support mage, he probably¡­¡± she trailed off in stunned silence, not surprising anyone with her inability to continue. They all marveled at what they were seeing. Right in front of their eyes, they saw Lord Walker copying a spell-form from the mage a few paces to his right. Granted, it was a simple tier 1 combat spell form, one used in situations just like this to offer support while not requiring much center. The spell form was intended for low-level mages to aid their melee counterparts during long engagements while maintaining their essence reserves. Yet, despite its simplicity, Lord Walker had not cast a single spell that could explain how he was doing what he was doing. The only reason they could even tell that he was copying the spell was because he was doing it so slowly, so carefully, and that the spell form was so universally known. Normally, mages would cast observation spells in order to see what other mages were casting. It took skill and practice to identify someone else¡¯s spell during combat. In certain cases, normally outside of combat, an observer could follow a spell form being created. But it required the caster to open themselves up to the observer, along with no small amount of effort on the observer''s part. Even then, it usually required the caster to carve their spell form slowly, basically screaming their intentions into the ether. It was a matter of intention. Without someone intending to show their spell form, an observer should only see a general outline of a spell, not nearly enough to copy it so easily. What Lord Walker was doing wasn¡¯t necessarily impossible, but it was the equivalent of watching a person casually walk across a tightrope while blindfolded¡­. Backwards¡­. And during a snowstorm. Or perhaps a better comparison would be finding someone who can read what¡¯s written on a page, while both the page and the ink are the same color. Usually, to learn a spell, a mage would be shown the spell form intentionally. No one in their right mind would try and copy an active spell. It just wasn¡¯t done. There were piles of research on how to best impart a spell form in a way so someone else could see it. Countless studies have refined the art of teaching into a well-developed system. One which, over time, has become an unchallenged common practice universally accepted across all of the known world. Scholar Mortem whispered over the connection, ¡°Are you all seeing this?¡± ¡°He didn¡¯t cast any observation or perception spells did he?¡± asked Scholar Yarborow. ¡°I didn¡¯t see any, but I might have missed it,¡± replied Scholar Vaxas. Interrupting their conversation, Academian Quincy replied happily, ¡°No. He didn¡¯t. He¡¯s simply watching the woman cast the spell and copying the ethereal echo her center is causing in the ether. It¡¯s like he¡¯s a walking, talking, ethereal essence scanner.¡± Scholar Idrius, sounding impressed, replied, ¡°I know that it is theoretically possible to do what he¡¯s doing. But seeing it in person is quite something, isn¡¯t it?¡± Scoffing, Scholar Yarborow replied, ¡°Yeah¡­ it¡¯s something all right.¡± Academian Quincy watched closely as Lord Walker continued to toss his spells over the front lines into the charging kobalds. He narrowed his eyes in interest when Lord Walker paused, holding up his spell form as if he were unhappy with it for some reason. Suddenly, Lord Walker thrust out his hand and a spike of acid launched itself into the distance, skewering then exploding inside a kobald¡¯s shoulder. Apparently not satisfied, he lowered his hand again and stared at it for almost a full minute. Then, without warning, he thrust out his hand again. This time, one after another, balls of acid shot forward, flying into the kobalds like a series of essence charges. Scholar Yarborow whispered, her voice somewhere between confusion, terror, and awe, ¡°Did he just create a spell variant for the spell form he JUST learned? How is that even possible?¡± Academian Quincy replied quickly, ¡°I believe he somehow grafted the infusion and stabilization sections of the spell form onto one the ¡®stone-spike¡¯ variants he created during his time in the wilds.¡± Everyone stood in silence, letting Academian Quincy¡¯s simple explanation sink in. Once again, it was conceivably possible to understand what Lord Walker had done, but it was so totally incomprehensible to them that anyone could actually do it. Almost a whisper, Scholar Idrius hissed, ¡°The Walker¡¯s legend will be talked about for ages.¡± While no one replied with words, their essence fields all began leaking their pride and conviction at being proven right in choosing to follow the young man. ¡ª-- Nero giggled, actually giggled, as his spell form snapped into place. In his perception, the cobbled-together spell form looked like a misshapen tattoo that warped due to expanding back fat. Nevertheless, it worked, and that¡¯s all that mattered. He launched multiple rounds of acid without having to reform the spell form from scratch. He¡¯d changed it from a one-off, into an automatic. He couldn¡¯t stop himself from giggling like a madman. Yet, he felt his enthusiasm dim a bit when he witnessed the damage his spell had wrought on the kobalds. His acid balls had ripped through their forces like the aftermath of biological warfare. Instead of a few dead and injured kobalds, the entire section he¡¯d targeted was filled with crawling kobalds struggling to move forward while their skin and gear melted off them. It was gruesome enough to cause his giggle to die in his throat. The sickening sight was nearly enough to cause him to start gagging in revulsion at what he¡¯d done. Love what you''re reading? Discover and support the author on the platform they originally published on. ¡®OK. Magic is fun and all, but I need to set some boundaries. I don¡¯t want to turn into some kind of sadist,¡¯ he told himself grimly. After taking a deep breath to center himself, he began targeting groupings of kobalds with the sole intention of aiding the melee fighters. That was his job, and he forced himself to focus on it. He refused to get lost in the vagaries of magic. He was an adventurer, not a dickhead, and he needed to remember that. With his focus retasked to his duty, and his desire for new magic temporarily sated, he let his senses spread out and looked over as much of the battlefield as he could. While he had no trouble covering the entire section his wackos were holding, he couldn¡¯t see much more than that. He remembered being in the wilds, and the feeling of being able to look at so much more than what his eyes could see. But here, without the trees and other obstructions in the way, his impressive magical field of vision wasn¡¯t all that much greater than what his eyes could show him. So, he returned to an old standby and used a simple spell to raise himself a little platform to augment his height. Since the shield above him was taller than a basketball hoop, he had plenty of room to maneuver. And, since the reworked spell he¡¯d appropriated now didn¡¯t require an arc for him to throw it, he figured it was common sense to give himself a better firing position. Now standing on a 4 ft. tall block of dirt, Nero continued his assault on the incoming kobalds. Wave after wave of enemies were pelted by his acid balls, each causing the kobalds who were hit to fall easily before the wackos'' blades in front of him. Just like the last time he¡¯d faced them, he could see that their attack didn¡¯t make any sense. Looking around, he wondered if they were trying to reopen the portal with all their sacrifices. He could see them amassing in the distance, the shamans and taller kobalds corralling the little ones and sending them off to die. He could even see a few surviving siege wyrms being herded into attack formations. What he didn¡¯t see was any sort of ritual that could explain the idiotic charge they were doing. While he continued to pelt them with acid, he noticed Nick a few teams over from him. Focusing his senses on the man, Nero watched him form some kind of fireball in his hands before launching it like a volleyball over the lines. Nero paused his attacks to stare at the man in disbelief. He couldn¡¯t understand the point of that kind of delivery system. Who in their right mind developed a spell that was launched by underhand ¡®serving¡¯ it into the enemy? But, Nero couldn¡¯t deny its effectiveness. In front of the area Nick was manning, there were large sections of earth that were burning merrily and causing the kobalds to struggle to find a safe path forward. Nero could even tell that Nick was doing his best to not completely cut them off. Instead, his goal seemed to be to make them slow down and approach in a single file before they met their end via the fighter¡¯s blades in front of him. Nero used his senses to look closely at what Nick was casting, but it was too far away to really see what his friend was doing. But, he wasn¡¯t discouraged. He easily remembered a variation of napalm that he¡¯d developed. So, he shouldn¡¯t have much issue copying and improving on Nick¡¯s dumbass spell. Halting his acid barrage, he took a moment to admire how efficient the spell he was in action. After a good long while of constant casting, his center reserves were barely touched. He seemed to be able to cast this support spell all day if he managed to keep his concentration up. Deciding to chance it, he altered the part of the spell he decided to call the element designation. He had no idea ¡®why¡¯ this part of the spell did what it did, but he knew that it did, so that was enough for him. Not bothering to worry about the details, he inserted the ¡®sticky fire¡¯ part of the other spell he¡¯d copied from¡­ somewhere. ¡®Wasn¡¯t this one of War Mage Howie¡¯s spells?¡¯ he wondered, not really caring all that much about where he¡¯d seen it. Crossing the fingers on his left hand for good luck, he carved a new spell form and admired the poorly shaped design forming itself in the ether. If the previous spell looked like a melted pictogram, this one looked like a jigsaw puzzle piece solely created to cause headaches. It took him three tries, and a good bit of finagling before the spell form decided to snap itself together. But, in the end, his desire for a ball-spitting napalm delivery system wouldn¡¯t be denied. Smiling at the resulting spell form floating in his hand, he stretched out his arm and unleashed hell¡­ kind of. For some reason, the spell did NOT work as intended. Luckily, he managed not to hurt anyone other than kobalds, but it was a closer thing than he¡¯d like to admit. What was supposed to be a ball spitter had somehow become a flamethrower. The moment he tried to launch a sticky ball of fire, the spell form kept drawing essence while launching the collated and converted essence into the air. Nero couldn¡¯t stop himself from flinching in surprise when a large arch of burning goo flew over the front lines and started exploding on contact with whatever got in its way. The explosions weren¡¯t very large, but they did spread out the flaming goop in a five-foot circle wherever it landed. And it landed¡­ everywhere. In awe of what he was doing, he ran the line of fire across the area in front of him like he was watering the lawn. Before long, the entire area in front of his team was burning with two-foot-tall flames that seemed to both be ¡®there¡¯ and also ¡®not there¡¯. Whatever the fire was, it certainly wasn¡¯t natural, and there wasn¡¯t enough fuel on the ground to ignite a natural flame as a result of his magical fire. Cutting off his spell, he frowned in thought at what he was seeing. He could tell that the flames were ¡®there¡¯ with his senses. He could ¡®see¡¯ it with both his eyes and his perception field. Yet, at the same time, something about them looked¡­ fake. ¡®Perhaps I didn¡¯t use enough center,¡¯ he thought, while completely ignoring the kobalds trying to force themselves through the flames and catching fire as a result of their persistence. Trying again, he put a little more center into his spell form and launched another stream. He covered another few rows, back and forth across the area in front of his team''s line. The result left him with more questions than answers. Instead of two-foot-tall flames, there was now a five-foot-tall wall of fire cutting off the kobalds from getting to his team. The entire section in front of them was burning. What few kobalds were brave enough, or stupid enough, to force themselves through the fire immediately collapsed once they made it through the flames. As a result of his ¡®brilliant¡¯ casting, the entire front line turned around and looked at him in confusion. They stood there with their bloody weapons, not knowing what they should do now that no kobalds were making it to them. Nero, trying to buy himself some time to figure out what he should say, simply stood tall on his pillar of dirt and shrugged in commiseration with them. Figuring that he had to say something, he looked down from his perch and shouted, ¡°Don¡¯t worry, the flames won¡¯t last long. I¡¯ll figure something else out in a bit. Rest assured, everything is under control. I just wanted to give you guys a break and see if you needed any healing or anything. Um¡­ so, do you need healing or anything?¡± The team he was working with exchanged a few puzzled looks with each other before turning back to him. The man who¡¯d been assigned as his team leader shouted up at him, ¡°No, my lord. We¡¯re doing well. We can return to the fighting whenever you¡¯re ready.¡± Nero, fighting the urge to fidget under their stares, raised his hand and gave them a thumbs up in appreciation for all their hard work. Before he could give the weird lull in battle any more thought, he heard Cathleen¡¯s voice in his head causing him to flinch as if he¡¯d been smacked. Her anger suddenly being clearly transmitted, he heard her shout, ¡°What the hell are you thinking? Don¡¯t force them to bunch up. The goal is to allow them to spread out and attack us without mobbing us.¡± Nero replied dumbly, ¡°Uh¡­ yeah. You got it. Sorry. Won¡¯t happen again.¡± He could almost feel her rolling her eyes through the connection before it muted itself again. While his team turned back to the battle, waiting for the flames to die down and the kobalds to resume their charge, Nero took the opportunity to look over the battlefield. He could tell that the lines had moved forward a bit, but not as much as he thought they would. It seemed like there was some kind of unspoken agreement for the lines to maintain their pace. After chalking it up to some kind of weird groupthink resulting from the overlapping essence fields, he took another look at the kobalds, trying to determine what their plan could be. He refused to believe any sentient creature was dumb enough to commit suicide in such a complicated and ridiculous manner. With his elevated position, along with the rising angle of the mountain, he had a pretty good view of the entire battlefield. Or at least the portion he could see until the edges fell off behind obstructions. A few football fields away, his attention was grabbed by a mass of kobalds racing across the spell-assaulted area between their forces. Rather than run across the open area in clumps, these kobalds maintained their horde. It looked like a long, thick line of kobalds shooting out from their forces like a lizard-filled laser. Nero turned to see a bunch of soldiers riding horses like they were racing to beat the kobald rush. Realizing they must be some kind of relief force, meant to reinforce the line wherever it seemed like it might buckle, Nero suddenly understood what was happening. The constant assault of weak kobalds was merely meant to slow down the human advance toward their position. It was simply a buffering maneuver. The crazy bastards were sending their weakest to their deaths so that their stronger forces could muster organized assaults on the lines. He assumed it must be both incredibly effective and terribly wasteful. Not to mention completely classist and evil. Nero¡¯s attention was caught by the team in front of him getting ready for battle. He looked over to see the flames he¡¯d sprayed everywhere finally going out. As they died down, he saw a horde of kobalds grouped up and ready to renew their assault. Rather than coming one at a time, it looked like he¡¯d accidentally herded them into an ad hoc formation. ¡®Well, shit,¡¯ he thought to himself. Feeling the need to apologize, he shouted a little too loudly, ¡°My bad guys! Don¡¯t worry though, I got this!¡± Raising his hands in front of his chest, he focused on creating two acid ball-spitting spells in each of his hands. While it took some effort to keep them both fed with his center and active, it wasn¡¯t that bad considering he wasn¡¯t trying to maintain the complicated version of his mage armor. Firming his jaw, and dropping into a very poor imitation of a horse stance, he held out his hands and let loose with his magic. He imagined himself looking totally badass while standing on his pillar and dual-casting his acid machine guns. He managed to keep his positive attitude for all of 10 seconds before he flinched away from what he was seeing. The dense grouping of kobalds made his acid explosions so much worse than he¡¯d expected. He¡¯d also clearly invested way too much center in what he was casting since the kobalds were practically melting in front of him. Between the dying screams and the omnipresent sound of ¡®hissing¡¯ from the acid, he felt the bile in his throat giving him mouth sweats and reminding him of the time when he was forced to dissect a pig in his high school biology class. Dropping his hands after he cleared out the field, he heard an angry voice coming from below his pillar on his left. ¡°Seriously!?! How do you expect us to pick all that up?¡± the man shouted. He stood there with his hands on his hips in front of a few people pushing a corpse cart. Nero realized they must be the ones in charge of clearing the kobalds off the field, and immediately felt like he¡¯d accidentally knocked over a display at the supermarket. These poor bastards were just doing their jobs, and he had to go and make it so much worse for them. Thinking quickly, Nero reached into his personal space and pulled out one of the shovels he¡¯d grabbed in case he needed it at some point. Tossing it down to the man, Nero shrugged awkwardly and said, ¡°Sorry man, I¡¯ll try and keep them ready for easy pickup going forward. I¡¯ll admit that my spell may have gotten away from me a bit. You can use this to scoop them up. Don¡¯t worry about returning it, I¡¯ve got a spare. Thanks for all your hard work.¡± Nero finished with as charming a smile as he could muster under the circumstances. However, in response to the gift of his shovel, all he got in return was some cursing and the man stomping off. Although he felt bad about it, some of his guilt was alleviated by the fact that the man DID, in fact, take the shovel with him when he stormed off. Chapter 190 - Ask for forgivness, not permission. Reaching out over his command connection, Captain Angleton contacted all the sergeants currently under his command, ¡°It looks like they¡¯re massing another assault further down the line. Expect to see some shamans and Assault Leaders along with the standard grouping of greater and lesser kobalds. I¡¯m told there isn¡¯t any sign of siege wyrms, so it shouldn¡¯t be too bad.¡± The moment he finished his transmission, he heard Sergeant Blackwood on his right groan in annoyance at him baiting fate with his words. Ignoring him, he mounted his horse and looked over his troops. Along with his elites, he¡¯d also been put in charge of two one-hundred-strong units of mounted cavalry. So far, he¡¯d found them both capable enough. Although he had to admit it was annoying working with their captains. Captains who didn¡¯t like that he preferred to personally coordinate the sergeants under his command¡­ all his sergeants, theirs included. Both Captain Inkler of the 410th and Captain Onslow of the 208th had nearly choked on their pride when he told them to pass their command connections over so he could manage them. Even now, he could tell that they were still maintaining separate connections to keep in nominal charge of their teams. While he understood the emotional connection they must have to their leadership positions, he still found it annoying. They¡¯d wasted 30 minutes trying to convince him that he should just pass all his orders through them so that they could handle their own units. How they were unable to see the inefficiency in that was nothing short of mind-boggling to him. Subtly sighing, he watched as the men and women under his command mounted up. He could see them sticking to their units, obviously maintaining their distance from anyone who wasn¡¯t part of their command structure. They¡¯d been like this for hours, and his repeated commands which could help coordinate them into a greater force had fallen on deaf ears. Apparently, they preferred to have two connections drawing on their reserves rather than simply submit themselves to his temporary authority. Just like the last 3 times they¡¯d been deployed, he pushed down his frustration and forced himself to focus on his duty. He had soldiers of Dorchester to save, and whether or not these prideful idiots wanted to work together or not, it didn¡¯t change what he was going to have them do. They¡¯d face the enemy together, and they would pull out whoever fell before their soul was lost to the planes. Using both his command connection and his voice, he called out, ¡°Relief force 3! On me!¡± With his field urging his mount forward, he took off at a gallop. Behind him, he could feel the entirety of his temporary force collapsing into a rough formation and following him into battle. After casting a quick ¡®far-eye¡¯ spell, he located the area command had told him to reinforce. He could see the kobald assault already starting as a dense horde of kobalds struck out across the buffer zone they¡¯d been maintaining. From what he could tell, the intelligence seemed accurate enough, and there didn¡¯t look to be any surprises incoming. However, he¡¯d still remain cautious. Over the past few hours, he¡¯d felt a growing sense of danger. The sense of doom was slowly building up around him in the ether. And, while he wasn¡¯t a fateweaver or even a man of faith, he had been a soldier long enough to respect the power of predestination and instinct. Yet, fate was not absolute. So, no matter what grim future awaited him and his troops, he¡¯d face it with the unbreakable sense of determination that he¡¯d honed over his many years of service. With his duty firmly rooted in his heart and his identity as a knight in his soul, he had no doubt that he¡¯d persevere. Suppressing a grimace at the thought of how many good men and women might die for his pride if he weren¡¯t careful, he forced every unnecessary thought into the back of his mind and concentrated solely on his mission. He had a duty to the soldiers currently under threat, and he wouldn¡¯t let his concerns weaken his resolve. He was a knight of Dorchester, and his body, mind, and soul were one. ¡ª-- Nero watched the new spell form he just completed fire off a mud ball into the kobald assault. The soccer ball-sized sphere of water-infused earth flew through the air and smacked a kobald directly in its sneering snout. As expected, it exploded beautifully, showering the little bastard in wet dirt. However, aside from some stumbling, and what was obviously some kobald version of a curse-laden rant, the kobald didn¡¯t seem to be hampered all that much. Groaning in annoyance, Nero muttered, ¡°What the fuck am I doing wrong? Some part of this damn spell form must designate the ¡®sticky¡¯ modifier.¡± Idly switching back to what was, unfortunately, becoming his new standby, he fired off a few acid balls across the section he was covering. His one job was to make sure whoever made it to their lines was more than a little injured, and he hadn¡¯t found a spell that worked nearly as well as his ¡®acid-barrage¡¯. Once again, he watched as the sticky globs of acid tore into the kobalds, burning into their flesh and making them howl in pain. It was so gross that he still couldn¡¯t stop himself from wincing. As he¡¯d been at this for hours, he had plenty of time to think about his reluctance to use the spell despite its effectiveness. As a result of his mental jujitsu, he¡¯d come to the conclusion that he didn¡¯t care all that much about the kobalds¡¯ pain or even the sadistic nature of the spell itself. What he really cared about was the fact that it was just so damn gross. Seeing the little lizards¡¯ flesh melting was just¡­ not cool. So, he¡¯d been trying to develop an alternative. He¡¯d used his field to watch every spell he could. Every caster that was within range had had their spells dissected and added to his repertoire. From the simple little spells like the one he¡¯d decided to call a ¡®flame lance¡¯ to the more complicated ¡®spike line¡¯, he¡¯d tried them all. Yet, nothing seemed to work nearly as well as the simple ¡®acid barrage¡¯ he¡¯d come up with. The spell was perfect in the way it didn¡¯t hamper the kobalds¡¯ charge while also making them easy prey for the melee fighters in front of him. ¡®But it''s just so damn gross!¡¯ he mentally complained as he cast another grouping of liquified nastiness. Taking a breath, he once again ran his mental fingers over the dense ¡®soul essence¡¯ floating throughout the ether. It would be so easy for him to start throwing out the ¡®essence cannon¡¯ spell he¡¯d developed. It would more than makeup for the fact that he wouldn¡¯t be slowing any kobalds down by simply removing them from consideration. He could wipe out this entire section of the line, shattering their assault like colonial cannons did to the British at the battle of¡­ wherever. But, he couldn¡¯t. From the looks he¡¯d gotten after his last display, he very much doubted it would be a good idea to show off his ¡®soul sorcery¡¯, or whatever these idiots called it. Instead, he was stuck casting this simple crap because he just didn¡¯t know any better. ¡®I really need to start reading more. I feel like a character who''s forgotten to go to the skill trainer for a few zones and is still using his starter spells,¡¯ he mentally complained. Putting the entire matter aside for the moment, he looked over the most recent batch of kobalds that were making their way toward the melee line. Based on their stumbling and staggered approach, he figured he had a moment or two to look away and see how the rest of the battle was going. Unauthorized usage: this narrative is on Amazon without the author''s consent. Report any sightings. Breaking eye contact with his assigned area, he scanned the battlefield from left to right, shaking his head at the oddness he was seeing. To him, the entire battle was just dumb¡­ no, that wasn¡¯t the right word. It was¡­ false advertising. It was obvious that the kobalds were aware that humans could raise their dead and heal their wounded rather easily. Just like it was obvious to the humans that the only threat the kobalds posed was when they overran one of their positions. Therefore, aside from a few random pockets of ¡®real¡¯ battle, the rest of the fight was merely a holding action. It was window dressing. A pale imitation of what he had expected ¡®war¡¯ to be. While he hadn¡¯t served in the military or anything, he had watched enough movies to know about the dichotomy between the horror of war and the glory of fighting the good fight. But here, there just weren¡¯t the same stakes. Even the kobalds didn¡¯t seem to care about their losses. They were bloodthirsty little bastards who couldn¡¯t care less about throwing their lives away for the chance of ripping apart a few humans. They looked like they were perfectly aware that the only chance they had to kill any humans was by sending out overwhelming hordes of kobalds at random sections of the line. By killing and then denying the humans the chance to resuscitate their dead, they could whittle down the human¡¯s numbers. And the humans were perfectly happy to fight the war in drips and drabs, not pushing too hard to close the distance and force an all-out fight. Dorchester¡¯s leadership had obviously done the math and knew that their small amount of losses would get them to the hole the kobalds were using to tunnel to the surface if they just kept at it. Slow and steady. ¡®BORE-ING!¡¯ he mentally griped. It was such a letdown. He was expecting a glorious fight filled with the pathos of the reality of war contrasting with the triumph of man against the inhuman hordes. Instead, he got ¡®whack-a-kobald¡¯. Frowning in thought, he wondered if this was why he was so annoyed with the ¡®acid barrage¡¯ spell he¡¯d been using. The pain was just so¡­ unnecessary. He didn¡¯t mind killing the kobalds, but he didn¡¯t like that it was so pointlessly gruesome. He almost expected a referee to pop up out of nowhere and flag him for unnecessary roughness and unsportsmanlike conduct. Suddenly, he had a thought which caused him to snort in self-recrimination. His unhappiness with the situation probably boiled down to him being denied the adrenaline rush of real stakes along with the fact that the magic everyone was using¡­ sucked. ¡®I shouldn¡¯t be reading into things. There¡¯s no point in getting all philosophical about it,¡¯ he told himself, while idly throwing out another ¡®acid barrage¡¯ to the next line of kobalds making their way to the melee fighters. Glancing over across the open range between the two forces, he saw that the kobalds were getting a little denser in front of the area to his left. It was subtle, but it wasn¡¯t exactly hidden. He could see some of the bigger kobalds herding the little ones into groups, while some kobald casters and other ¡®bigguns¡¯ grouped up behind them. ¡®Looks like there might actually be something for me to do here in a minute,¡¯ he thought to himself happily. He felt Cathleen¡¯s presence blossom in his head before her voice came through the command connection he shared with her. ¡°Lord Walker, command reports that kobald forces will assault this position in the next twenty to thirty minutes. We¡¯ve been ordered to pull back for reassignment,¡± she said, her tone absent of any emotion. Nero raised his eyebrows in surprise. There was a lot to unpack in that little statement. It seemed neither Cathleen nor Command was even bothering to pretend that they were currently in any danger. They didn¡¯t say the kobalds would be ¡®increasing their offensive¡¯, or anything of the sort. Instead, they said ¡®They¡¯ll be assaulting this position¡¯. Looking at the poor kobalds currently dying under the blades of the melee fighters, Nero felt like sarcastically replying ¡®So you don¡¯t even consider us under assault at the moment?¡¯ But, he figured there wasn¡¯t any point in taking away what little glory his wackos might be feeling about their ¡®contribution¡¯ to the war. Instead, he replied, ¡°So, Command is worried about Dorchester¡¯s new unique actually being in danger? That¡¯s a load of shit Cathleen. We didn¡¯t come out here for a picnic!¡± Surprisingly, Cathleen¡¯s mental presence clearly broadcast her amusement at Nero¡¯s snide reply to their orders. That was until she seemed to dull her presence and become¡­ shifty. He could feel her becoming hard to pin down and slightly deceptive. ¡°You know, my lord, you don¡¯t have to follow their orders if you don¡¯t want to. Technically, you aren¡¯t under their command. The general¡¯s permit to join the battle simply states that you are allowed onto the field and that any help you give the forces here would be appreciated by Dorchester¡¯s Council of Leadership. It may have been ¡®expected¡¯ that you would follow orders, ¡®requested¡¯ even, but they don¡¯t truly have the right to ¡®make¡¯ you follow them,¡± she said slyly. Nero almost burst into laughter at Cathleen¡¯s lawyering. He¡¯d never expected a warrior-woman like her to be so adept at word games. ¡°OK, so here¡¯s what we¡¯re going to do. We¡¯ll pull back and request a break. Tell command that I want to give my troops a rest or something. They¡¯ll probably expect me to be all lordly and assholish anyway, so nobody will make a fuss. Then, we back up a bit and wait for the shit to hit the fan. When things start going bad, and the relief forces join in and this actually turns into a battle, THEN we rejoin the lines as if we hadn¡¯t had any other option BUT to fight,¡± he said happily. Feeling Cathleen¡¯s excitement tinged with worry, Nero somehow knew exactly what she was worried about. ¡°Of course, we¡¯re going to give everyone a heads up. I don¡¯t plan to keep secrets from my wackos¡­ well, not secrets like this.¡± Realizing what he just said, he continued, ¡°Forget that last part. My point is, I¡¯m not going to be an dickhead and send them into danger without giving them prior warning.¡± Cathleen¡¯s excitement lost that tinge of worry and instead took on a hue of pride, or maybe respect. All in all, Nero was feeling decidedly worried about his increasing ability to parse people¡¯s emotional states over the mental connections he was using. On the other hand, he was getting pretty good at ignoring what wasn¡¯t important at the moment, so he wouldn¡¯t worry about it. Instead, he threw another ¡®acid barrage¡¯ and looked over at Cathleen¡¯s position, wondering if her silence meant she agreed with his plan. After all, he didn¡¯t come out here to massacre a bunch of suicide troops. He came out here for some excitement! Nero¡¯s mental processes slammed to a halt at that sudden sense of self-awareness. While he¡¯d been mentally circling that realization for a while, he hadn¡¯t quite looked at it that way. Thinking back to his conversation with Nick and Jennings, he recalled them talking about the effect his desire for ¡®adventure¡¯ would have on his personality as his soul, body, and mind the more he leveled and became rooted in this world. Now that he was able to look back on his actions with a little more perspective, he could see that he was slowly embracing the adrenaline junkie attitude that he¡¯d always envied in other people back home. ¡®OK. maybe not so slowly,¡¯ he thought wryly. He¡¯d always secretly wanted to be the type of person who got off their ass and went rock climbing, or sky diving. However, his rationality had always acted as a buffer for that kind of thing. After all, what kind of moron chooses to do something that has an increased likelihood of death or severe injury. He¡¯d firmly believed that stories of adventure and awesome sauce were great, but they were just that¡­ stories. He didn¡¯t actually want to go join the army and fight a guerilla war in the jungle against insane odds for the sake of justice or something. After all, that kind of stuff didn¡¯t happen in real life. Political wars and shady background deals wielded just as much power as popular opinion; the internet had made that very clear. He¡¯d seen countless behind-the-story shows and articles explaining in great detail how nothing was as it seemed. But, that secret wish to be part of a great saga was always right under the surface, just waiting for a chance to rise up and enjoy a little time in the sun. So, with that in mind, he could totally see himself embracing the adventurer mindset in a world with magic and actual enemies. ¡®Yet another reason to be pissed about slaughtering weak-ass kobalds,¡¯ he thought with a grimace. He was snapped out of his self-reflection by a group of troops rushing in to replace him and his wackos. Looking down from the pedestal he had been slowly building as they had pushed forward, he chuckled at how smoothly they took over the melee line. But, before he let the spell he was holding for the mud beneath his feat disperse, he looked over his shoulder to see how far they¡¯d pushed over the past few hours. Unfortunately, his pedestal''s progress had made it very clear that at most they¡¯d gone about ten or fifteen feet¡­ at most. ¡®Well that¡¯s just depressing,¡¯ he complained to nobody. While the rest of the team he had been working with rushed past him, he let the spell fade and watched as the trickle of center he¡¯d had attached to the dirt pillar cut off, and the essence inside started to degrade. He couldn¡¯t help but smile at how his senses allowed him to watch the entire process in exquisite detail. It was as if he could actually see the world pushing the essence back to where it was supposed to be, and remaking the local reality into what it believed it should be. Hopping down lightly as the dirt vanished into a cloud of ether, he chuckled at just how cool magic was. But, he knew it wasn¡¯t the time for another self-realization. He had underlings to brief, and a battle plan to try and pay attention to. ¡®Wait¡­ Should I be pissed that I¡¯m not in charge of my own forces? Nah, delegation is a sign of intelligence. It¡¯s not like any of the billionaires back home really designed any of the things that made them rich. I¡¯m just applying the best method to ensure the Walker Adventurer Company succeeds in its goal to corner the market on local adventuring. Cathleen can handle the details just fine¡­ I¡¯ll stick to managing the broad strokes. Like a boss,¡¯ he told himself firmly. Chapter 191 - Oh! You meant WAR... gotcha. Commander Dahl tapped his chin in thought while his lips stretched into a feral smile. The hologram displaying the battle in front of him finally showed him the exact kind of opportunity he¡¯d been waiting for. The kobalds were massing an assault on the area directly in front of the support structure containing one of the portable battle-hubs. He knew it would be devastating if the kobalds made it through the line there, and he was positive whoever was commanding the kobalds knew it as well. It was a perfect excuse for him to do what needed to be done to end this quickly, with as few casualties as possible. After seeing what awaited his troops, he needed a way to draw out the kobald¡¯s forces. He¡¯d been forced to wait for an opportunity like this since his forces were nearing the kobald stronghold surrounding their exit tunnel. He couldn¡¯t allow them to perform an organized retreat and reinforce their defenses. So, for the last 12 hours, he had slowed his force''s advance and let his troops bleed the kobalds for as long as possible. He knew he would have to entice them into overextending if he wanted to clear out the top-side forces before he assaulted their defenses around the exit tunnel. As it stood right now, the kobalds were constantly bringing up fresh reserves by way of their exit tunnel. If he couldn¡¯t kill them faster than their reinforcements arrived, then he knew his forces were in for a pointlessly tough fight. Who knew how many kobalds were just waiting below for their chance to kill a few humans? So, he needed them to think they broke his lines and commit a majority of their troops toward a failed offensive. Dropping his hands to manipulate the hologram, he used the controls and simple gestures to zoom in on the area in question. ¡®Just as I thought¡­ this should do nicely,¡¯ he congratulated himself on his clever plan, while silently thanking whatever planar deity was influencing events in his favor. Standing up from his scrutiny of the hologram, he called out, ¡°Have Relief Force B3 sent to reinforce section M27! Get our reserves moving toward M26, and have Relief Forces B4, B5, and B6 collapse to support section M28. Activate everyone we have that is awake and capable of fighting. Have Relief Foces B6 through B9 stretch out to cover B4 through B6¡¯s areas of responsibility. I also want our support forces in those sections moved out of the area. Bring in some of the penal squads to cover their responsibilities. Just use whoever is available nearby. Also, there is a battle-hub in M26, so ensure the rearguard knows to stay in place in case of a breakthrough. Give an army-wide warning to the captains to prepare for a final push. Once the kobalds over-run the lines, and fully commit their forces, we¡¯ll end this once and for all.¡± While his sub-commanders and battle controllers began disseminating his orders, he bypassed his connection to the battle-hub in order to contact two of his sub-commanders directly. Feeling the connection established, he reached out and added, ¡°The moment the engagement at M27 begins, I want you both to send orders for Captains Inkler and Onslow to pull back the moment Relief Force B3 engages the enemy. They are to fall back and make sure we don¡¯t lose the battle-hub. They are to coordinate with the rearguard to create a new defensive line. Just be sure to wait for the fighting to progress until B3 is in the thick of it. Captain Angleton can manage well enough on his own with his elites. We can¡¯t make it look like we¡¯re inviting the kobalds in, now can we?¡± Before his sub-commanders could question his orders, or even ask for clarification, one of the battle controllers overseeing section M27 called out, ¡°Commander Dahl! Should we alert Lord Walker¡¯s forces about the upcoming assault?¡± Snapping his attention back to the hologram, Commander Dahl narrowed his eyes at what he was seeing. The battle controller was right, the assault would come down right next to the unique¡¯s current position. Groaning in annoyance, he replied, ¡°Just have them pull back and redeploy to another position. Make sure they are at least 3¡­ No, 4 sections away from M27. I don¡¯t want Dorchester¡¯s newest unique or his forces anywhere there. You have¡­¡± he carefully looked over the kobald¡¯s preparations to make an educated guess before continuing, ¡°20 minutes before they need to be out of the area. So, get them moving as soon as possible.¡± Over the private connection he¡¯d set up with two of his most trusted sub-commanders, he heard a resigned voice ask, ¡°Do we really need to sacrifice them like this? I doubt we¡¯ll be able to recover their bodies in time to resuscitate them if I understand what you¡¯re planning. The whole section of the line will be lost if we do this.¡± Commander Dahl''s stern face glanced over at the man, mentally replying, ¡°I need the kobalds to fully commit to their assault. While I don¡¯t enjoy spending the lives of my soldiers, sometimes sacrifices must be made to ensure that the battle develops in our favor. If all goes as planned, then their entire surface force will fall on M27 like a hammer, and we¡¯ll be able to surround and destroy them in short order. There is every chance that we¡¯ll be able to recover the soldiers we lost before they are truly lost. But, if not, then they would have died for a good reason¡­ the defense of Dorchester. We should all be so lucky to see our lives end in such a noble manner.¡± The sub-commander who asked the question didn¡¯t respond. Instead, he just firmed his jaw and went about the business of preparing the trap Commander Dahl envisioned. Any thought of warning the troops was banished to the deepest, darkest, part of his mind under the heavy weight of his duty to the city he loved. ¡ª-- Nero could feel it in the ether. Everyone in the area was aware of what was coming. It reminded him of the sense of anticipation before the big game, or the moment before he tried to chat up a hottie surrounded by her gremlin friends. The only difference was, this time, he was more focused on his own problems than what was going on around him. Trying his best to look like he deserved his position as house head, he kept his face blank as he looked up at the faces of the wackos surrounding him. He placed his hands on his hips in a display that he hoped adequately demonstrated his confidence. It was obvious to him that they were all a little tired from the fighting but he was pleased to see that they were also more than ready for another round. There was a glint in their eyes that was eager to hear what he had to say. Straightening his back, he did his best to look as many of them in the eye as he could while beginning his speech, ¡°We¡¯ve been ¡®ordered¡¯ to fall back to another position because this one is going to be hit by the kobalds pretty hard in the next little while. But now that we¡¯ve all had a little warm-up, I think it¡¯s time we have ourselves a proper fight. Rather than comply with command¡¯s order to fuck-off somewhere else and let the professionals handle it, I¡¯m thinking we should stick around and put ourselves to the test.¡± Gesturing around with his hands at all the activity going on around them, he continued, ¡°As you can see, everyone here knows that this isn¡¯t going to be like the fighting we¡¯ve just been through. There will be no weak kobalds coming at us one at a time. It will be a horde of the little bastards doing all that they can to overwhelm us. There is a real chance of us dying here.¡± Furrowing his brow to display how serious he was, he added, ¡°You all asked to follow me into the battles I chose to fight. You wanted to see what it was like to put yourselves out there. Well, this is it. This is the moment when reality confronts your convictions. Destiny has demanded that you ¡®put up or shut up¡¯. So, I want you each to ask yourselves¡­ Are you ready to live up to your dreams? Do you want to play it safe and head back behind the shields of the real soldiers? Or do you want to confront your fears and find out what you¡¯re really capable of when your life is on the line? I can tell you all from personal experience¡­ it¡¯s a bad-ass feeling when you find out that you are more than what you thought you were.¡± Pausing his speech, he took a good look at how his little army of crazies was feeling. And, from what he could tell, not a single one of them looked unhappy about his decision to stay and confront the assault heading their way. Cathleen¡¯s eyes were filled with fire, and he could that despite her stoic face, she was almost shaking with anticipation. Even Rose, who was standing next to her, looked equally excited to participate in another real battle. From what he could tell, they all looked like they knew they had been wasting their time playing the tutorial, and were now filled with excitement for the real game to begin. Stolen content warning: this tale belongs on Royal Road. Report any occurrences elsewhere. There was no cheering or big displays of psyching themselves up. They all just followed Cathleen back behind the berms a little bit, hiding themselves among the support staff. Nero had to admit that he was impressed with how well they were keeping it together. Yet, he knew he shouldn¡¯t have been all that surprised. The entire culture of Dorchester seemed incredibly bland and reserved compared to what he was used to. Granted, the citizenry could cheer and chant with the best of them. But on the whole, everyone in the city was much more reserved than what he would consider ¡®normal¡¯. The prevailing sense of stoic duty even affected him, to be honest. As he watched the preparations being hastily prepared around them, he thought about how much he¡¯d changed since he¡¯d arrived here. For one, it was obvious to him that he¡¯d become much more serious about things he used to mock almost religiously. Without anyone giving him shit, he increasingly felt uncomfortable blatantly insulting people. However, he couldn¡¯t contain his grin at the thought that he¡¯d instead become much more nuanced in his ability to incite rage in those around him. He wondered if there might actually be a skill threshold for being an asshole that he¡¯d passed somehow. ¡®At some point, I really need to learn how to manage my skills,¡¯ he told himself, before dismissing it as a tomorrow problem. He¡¯d also really embraced the whole magic warrior thing he¡¯d been working with. Between Cathleen¡¯s insane idea of training and his time in the wilds, where he had been constantly assaulted by fantastical nightmares, he had fully incorporated combat into his core personality. Looking back, he could barely remember that feeling of nervous anticipation he had before he decided to join in on the noble war. It was like whatever little spark had given him the courage to get involved had grown into a raging inferno of ¡®badassery¡¯ that he had to admit, he was really enjoying. ¡®If only the old me could see me now¡­¡¯ he thought with a smile. The sound of a wagon rolling by caught his attention, and he looked over to see what looked like a giant cannon being dragged through the mud. His jaw dropped in shock at seeing something so¡­ familiar. Running his eyes over it, he was surprised to see a bunch of pipes, runes, and little lights covering the back of it. All in all, it looked like something out of steampunk novel crossed with magitech. It was nothing short of glorious, and he couldn¡¯t wait to see it fire! He heard a shout and looked over to see an angry woman stomping over while screaming bloody murder at the cannon crew. ¡°Don¡¯t set it here you idiots! It needs to be back with the reserves! Do you WANT the kobalds to get their hands on a spell cannon!?!¡± she yelled. Nero frowned at the exchange, surprised to hear the woman¡¯s tone. ¡®Did she expect the kobalds to actually succeed in breaking through the lines?¡¯ he wondered. Turning to look at what was going on behind him, he tried to get a sense of what was happening. However, considering his height, his efforts were more than a little pathetic. Grunting in annoyance, he cast his pillar spell and rose up to get a better look around. Immediately he could tell that the army was taking this assault seriously. He could see the support troops grabbing supplies and rushing back further away from the front lines. He could see cavalry troops racing across the open areas, preparing to rush into the battle. The compacted dirt bunkers were being filled with troops, while archers took up positions on top of them. Even some mages were working in concert to adjust the berms that were laid out haphazardly behind the lines. He, of course, got distracted by what they were doing. With his perception field, he stared in wonder at how they were copying the identity of the ground to create the walls. They almost looked like they were working together to infuse them with center. It wasn¡¯t exactly casting¡­ It was more like imbueing. Of course, there was a spell involved, but the way they were doing it was entirely unfamiliar to him. They weren¡¯t creating an effect, they were creating a false reality. Turning to his right to try and ask Nick for an explanation, he was reminded that he was still standing on his pillar. As a result, he ended up almost asking the air for its opinion. Biting back his embarrassment, he remembered why he was up here in the first place. ¡®Not the time! Don¡¯t be distracted with cool new magic!¡¯ he chided himself, before returning to his survey of what was going on with the defenses. Looking further back behind the lines, he saw some of the tent-like structures that had been slowly moving up behind the fighting. He assumed they must either be using magic to keep them mobile, or they were constantly leapfrogging them while the front line pushed forward into the mountains. They were all large and obviously well-maintained, and he had thought they must have been armories or command centers or something. But now, he wondered if they served another purpose because he could see defensive lines springing up in front of them. Dense lines of soldiers were preparing for battle, way behind where there was currently fighting. They were stacked shoulder to shoulder, clearly preparing for a pitched battle. Turning back to get an idea of the distance, he couldn¡¯t understand what they were doing. The new defensive line and tents were hundreds of feet from the fighting. Were they planning on letting the kobalds get that far? Coming to a realization, his eyebrows shot up nearly to his hairline. He quickly took another look around with his new perspective, and he could tell that he had been missing something. Hurriedly dismissing his pillar, he dropped back to the ground. Turning to his wackos, he addressed Cathleen, ¡°I think they¡¯re planning on letting the kobalds through for some reason. We need to get further back and out of the ambush zone. Like, right now!¡± She and the rest of the wackos looked at him with surprise, underscored with confusion. ¡°Command didn¡¯t say anything about an envelopment maneuver. Why do you think they¡¯re planning on letting the kobalds penetrate the line?¡± she asked calmly, clearly not believing Nero¡¯s theory. Rolling his eyes, Nero replied, ¡°Why would they tell us? We¡¯re not even supposed to BE here!¡± Her eyes widened a little in shock, the realization of what he was saying snapping her to attention. Nero assumed she started giving out orders through the command connection because the wackos immediately reacted in concert to evacuate the area. Not wasting a single second, they made their way further behind the lines and took up position off to the side of the new reserve line. Cathleen turned to him and demanded, ¡°Raise me up so I can see what¡¯s going on.¡± While Nero was a little annoyed with her tone, he still decided to indulge her request. With a wave of his hand and a little magic, he watched her rise a few feet off the ground on one of his pillars. The moment she was up there, she began scanning the field as if she were looking for something. For a moment, he let himself bask in the idea that she was a statue. She looked like the myth of a warrior woman given form, complete with bloodstains and battle gunk. Less than a minute later, she looked down at him from her ten-foot height and ordered him to lower her back down. Rolling his eyes, he did as she requested. ¡°I agree with your conclusion, but I don¡¯t understand what command is thinking. There must be a tactical reason for them to put a battle-hub at risk like this,¡± she said. Nero was about to ask what she meant when the sounds of battle coming from the front completely changed into hissing screams and shouts from the soldiers for aid. Whipping his head around, he looked out into a small sea of kobalds trying to rush through the lines while slashing and biting at the troops holding the front line. It was both terrifying and amazing to see¡­ even from the distance he was currently at. Unsurprisingly, the soldiers began retreating immediately. He could see the second-line mages and ranged support sprinting back behind the berms while tossing whatever they could over their shoulders. Several times, he even saw some of their spells hitting the melee fighters who were behind dragged down under the tide of kobalds. With how much momentum the lizards had behind them, they had no problem running over the lines and obliterating anyone who stood in their way. The sounds of the cavalry from his left brought his attention to the formation of knights rushing into the lanes between the berms. It looked like a practiced maneuver that halted the kobald¡¯s assault in its tracks. From his vantage point, Nero quickly lost sight of what was happening as all he could see was the cavalry filling the lines and looking for any kobalds brave enough to crawl over the mud walls holding them back. Once again, Nero questioned the intelligence of the locals at seeing mounted knights using their horses to stomp the 4-foot-tall kobalds while bending down so that their weapons could reach them. That wasn¡¯t to say that there weren¡¯t big kobalds there for them to decapitate, but seeing them try and lean off their saddles to kill the little ones strained what little respect he had left for their decision-making skills. Wanting to get a better view, he cast another pillar so he could see what was happening. This time, he raised himself high enough that his teeth ached from the hum of the shields hovering above their heads. Whatever he had expected, it wasn¡¯t this. The line of kobalds was hundreds of feet wide, and densely packed all the way back up to where they were coming from. Somehow, they actually managed to maintain their lines and didn¡¯t spread out at all, even with the front of their lines forcing them to slow down. It was a level of coordination Nero hadn¡¯t thought them capable of. And the varying types of kobalds participating in the assault were filling the combat area with flashes of light that could only be spells or abilities going off at point-blank range. What few soldiers remaining from the lines were slowly being picked off, and even some of the knights were being pulled down. Already, there were piles of kobald and human bodies stacking up, creating hazards for everyone to fight around. It was a blood bath. One which he had no idea how to join without considering it to be suicide. His attention was caught by the sight of golden flashes off in the distance. The display jogged his memory, and he quickly recognized what was causing it. Narrowing his eyes, he wondered, ¡®What the hell is Captain Angleton doing out there?¡¯ Before he could even process the fact that the elites he¡¯d been training with were currently out there fighting for their lives, three-quarters of the cavalry suddenly turned and retreated from the battle. They cut tail and ran like little bitches, not even considering what would happen to the soldiers they were leaving behind. Nero could tell that it was way too organized to be an accident. For some reason, they were choosing to leave all those men and women to die. Not knowing what to think, Nero stood in shock on his pillar, standing high above the troops around him. He was so horrified at what he was seeing, he couldn¡¯t help but shout in outrage, ¡°What the fuck are you assholes doing! Are you just going to leave them to die you fucking cowards!¡± Clenching his fists in rage, he knew he had to do something. But what that ¡®something¡¯ was¡­ he had absolutely no frickin idea. Chapter 192 - Mob mentality for the win. ¡°Alright you lot, listen up! I need any of you who were part of combat units to head over here, gear up, and form up on me. I mean RIGHT NOW!¡± yelled the sergeant in charge of the support unit Mike was currently attached to. Happy that he was done shoveling dirt, he slammed the head of his shovel into the ground and stretched his back with a sigh. Glancing around the hole, he saw several other men and women doing the same. ¡®What a shame. How will they ever finish this without us?¡¯ he thought sarcastically. He climbed out of the massive grave he and the others had been digging and saw the sergeant already sending replacements. One thing Dorchester never lacked was criminals. ¡®At least I won¡¯t have to be here when they fill the hole with whatever is left of the kobalds after processing,¡¯ he thought with relief. He¡¯d seen what was left after they were stripped, skinned, deboned, and dumped into tubs. The memory alone made his stomach churn. Although he¡¯d known about the many uses of kobalds, seeing sentient beings stripped for their parts was nothing short of disturbing. ¡®Although, most necessary things are,¡¯ he thought as he recalled his time in his father¡¯s butcher shop. Forcefully banishing the ¡®pit of despair¡¯ behind him to the furthest reaches of his mind, he focused on the fact that he was returning to the battle¡­ most likely to create more work for the processing teams. He jogged over to the wagon and grabbed a workable sword belt, complete with its pre-sheathed weapon. Next, he went looking for a solid shield. He¡¯d learned his lesson about dual-wielding against kobalds. It simply wasn¡¯t worth it. Fighting the little bastards wasn¡¯t a test of skill, it was one of endurance. After strapping on his gear, he looked around to see if he could replace any of the armor he¡¯d been forced to part with when joining the support teams. Unfortunately, there apparently wasn¡¯t enough time for anything more than the basics as he heard a mounted sergeant start shouting out orders for them to form up. Rushing over to join the poorly assembled formation, he noticed the other sergeant who¡¯d been leading the support team shaking his head in pity before turning away and returning to his work. ¡®Well, this is surely going to be good news I bet,¡¯ he told himself sarcastically. ¡°My name is Sergeant Conner. You¡¯re being assembled to perform an envelopment maneuver in approximately 30 minutes. If you want to get credit toward your service debt, you must sign in to the battle-hub under Temporary Division A003. If you do NOT sign in, then you will not be considered an active participant. If you do NOT know what an envelopment maneuver is, ask someone next to you while we form up. You WILL stay in formation, follow orders, and kill the enemy. There will be no questions. Now follow me,¡± he ordered, before harshly yanking his horse¡¯s reigns and riding off. The man¡¯s pace required them all to jog in order to keep up with him. But, that didn¡¯t stop several panicked voices from discussing what an envelopment maneuver was. Listening to them all spout ridiculous theories and guesses, he could only assume none of them had any formal training¡­ or even bothered to read a damn book. Fed up with the nonsense he was hearing, he condescending shouted, ¡°An envelopment maneuver is where you let the enemy in, surround them, and kill them. For the sake of all the heavens, it¡¯s not planar shifting you morons!¡± Receiving nothing but grumbling in response to his ¡®help¡¯, he ignored them and focused on getting mentally ready to return to the battle. He¡¯d learned that fighting a war was drastically different than hunting. It required keeping his head down, his mind clear from any distractions, and stubbornness¡­ lots of stubbornness. ¡®In war, it¡¯s not about killing, it¡¯s about survival,¡¯ he reminded himself. Before long, he found himself grouped up with other pseudo-soldiers who he assumed were other members of the penal forces. Their poor equipment and uniform weapons made it clear that they weren¡¯t the army¡¯s finest. He took his place in the line alongside them, only two paces from the first man in the formation. ¡®Oh great, I get to be near the front,¡¯ he congratulated himself sourly. As the seconds ticked by, more and more penal soldiers arranged themselves behind him. He looked over his shoulder to see them all formed up in lines 10 or twelve deep, and he could only hope his new ¡®combat unit¡¯ wasn¡¯t the bait for the envelopment maneuver they were performing. More time passed and he watched the defenses develop into a massively large rectangle just waiting to be filled with kobalds. When he saw the horde finally slam into the front lines, the realization that he wasn¡¯t going to be sacrificed as an incentive filled his heart with gratitude. The tide of kobalds broke against the poor bastards like a sledgehammer and he could only watch with pity as they tried to organize a retreat. ¡®Hopefully, command at least had the decency to let the poor bastards know to retreat when the kobalds charge in force. Otherwise, they don¡¯t stand a chance,¡¯ he thought grimly. A minute or two later, he saw support being sent in to save them. Mounted cavalry rushed in to blunt the kobald assault and allow for whoever was left to possibly survive. The awe-inspiring sight was almost enough to rekindle his dwindling faith in Dorchester¡¯s nobility. Suddenly, his attention was pulled by an idiot raising himself onto a constructed pillar in order to get a better view of the battle. While he could appreciate the sentiment, he wondered what kind of dumbass would impair the integrity of the line with a 5-unit tall pile of mud, just so they could watch good men die for a tactical advantage. Narrowing his eyes at whoever was on top of the pillar, he couldn¡¯t help but feel like they were someone he should recognize. They looked very familiar, but he just couldn¡¯t place them. Hearing the sounds of the battle change, he looked back over to the front line to see what was happening. His jaw dropped in shock as most of the cavalry pulled back and retreated, leaving the struggling soldiers on the ground to die. It was honestly the most callous, calculated thing he¡¯d ever seen. ¡®Well, if whoever is running this war wants the kobalds to think they¡¯re winning, that ought to do it,¡¯ he thought to himself. Looking between the retreating horses, he could see that at least some of the cavalry had ignored their orders and stayed to fight. ¡®Only commoners have the luxury of nobility. The nobles are too busy with their schemes to bother with it,¡¯ he reminded himself, quoting something his father once told him. He could feel the men and women around him shuffle their feet and squirm in discomfort as they were forced to watch those brave soldiers die. No one said a thing, yet everyone knew what they were witnessing¡­ It was a sacrifice just as evil as what the kobalds had been doing since the war began. The uncomfortable silence was shattered by a young but powerful voice shouting, ¡°What the fuck are you assholes doing! Are you just going to leave them to die you fucking cowards!¡± Mike¡¯s face paled in fear as his head whipped around to stare at the young lord on the pillar. He recognized that voice. That¡¯s the Little Lord Walker! The Smiling Death! The target he never should have dared to face! The man who¡¯d stuck him to a tree with his sword and ripped his life apart! The hells be damned nightmare was standing right there. Not knowing how to react, he froze in fear and just stared at him. The most terrifying young noble he¡¯d ever met suddenly looked nothing like the idiot on the pillar he had thought he was just minutes before. The very skies themselves opened up to bathe Lord Walker in shafts of sunlight, and the shields above his head shimmered in appreciation of the warrior they had the honor of protecting. Like an avatar of humanity¡¯s might, he stood tall with his hands on his hips, looking every bit the manifestation of righteousness while glaring imperiously at the traitors to humanity¡¯s civility below him. The sense of condemnation and resolve seemed to roll off him in waves, and Mike was positive that he was not the only one affected. Mike¡¯s heart started to race, and he didn¡¯t know whether to cheer or pray to all the heavens above for salvation as he knew for a fact that things were about to get crazy. ¡ª-- Nero was righteously pissed. This whole thing stunk of politics. Assholes in power sent good men and women off to die ¡®for the greater good¡¯ while they sat in their air-conditioned offices and accepted praise from other assholes who screwed over different people in their own imaginative ways. It was everything he hated about humanity on display for all to see. But, what could he do about it? Hundreds of men and women were about to die, and there wasn¡¯t a damn thing he could do to stop it. Even if he ordered his wackos into the fray, what hope did his small group have compared to the thousands of kobalds running roughshod over what remained of the front line? Those bodies were lost, and every second that passed saw more souls being lost to the higher planes. He didn¡¯t have a chance in hell of saving them, right? Something in Nero¡¯s gut bubbled up like acid reflux. It was a fire he hadn¡¯t felt since before he decided to join the noble war. It was exactly like the moment when he saw those mercenaries smack around Lord Cosgrave¡¯s daughter. The inhumane cruelty was not something he could just stand by and watch. He had to act. He NEEDED to do something. Unauthorized reproduction: this story has been taken without approval. Report sightings. Furious, he looked around for options. To his left and right, he saw scores of soldiers lined up, just waiting for the kobalds to come into the trap. They were all staring at him for some reason. Hundreds of people were looking up at him with shock. The fact that he had their attention suddenly gave him an idea. He could pull a ¡®Spartacus¡¯, or whatever it was called. Turning around fully to address the soldiers, he raised his hands out to the side and shouted at the top of his lungs, ¡°Men and women of Dorchester, hear me! I don¡¯t know what plans the nobles have that require those soldiers to die, but I will not stand for it. We are not pieces on the board to be sacrificed for their vanity and greed. We are citizens of Oglivarch, and we stand united in purpose. Together we stand against the terrors of the wilds, and the forces of chaos that do all they can to tear us down. But, like our walls, we are unbreakable! Are we just going to stand here and watch our brothers and sisters die? I say, NO! We are going to fight and claw our way through those bastards and recover who we can. Not a single human life will be sacrificed in the pursuit of this war. If we are going to die, then it won¡¯t be because we abandoned each other. We do NOT leave our men and women behind. We stand together! Follow me, brave soldiers of Dorchester, and let¡¯s remind those cowards running this war what honor and integrity look like!¡± Like a madman, Nero ripped his sword out of his sheath and held it up like a torch. With every ounce of his will, he tried to channel every single movie cliche he could think of while shouting, ¡°For Dorchester! For Oglivarch!¡± He was nearly blasted off his feet at the response he heard. As one, everyone around him raised their weapons and shouted at him with all of their might, ¡°FOR DORCHESTER! FOR OGLIVARCH!¡± The ether around him roiled in anticipation of what they were about to unleash, and Nero couldn¡¯t stop himself from shaking. His mind was just as turbulent, and he felt like he was riding the moment rather than controlling it. Without thinking, he felt himself turn and dismiss the pillar he was standing on. The resulting drop was enough to cause his knees to creak. It was enough to almost bring him to his knees. But, somehow he kept his balance and quickly stepped out in front of the lines to take his place at the head of the army. In the distance, he could see the front lines failing, as more and more men and women were being brought down by the kobald horde. Gritting his teeth at the savagery, he raised his sword and screamed, ¡°For Dorchester! For Oglivarch!¡± Once again, the response was massive, and the soldiers behind him roared ¡°FOR DORCHESTER! FOR OGLIVARCH!¡± Barely recognizing that he had started running, Nero felt himself screaming out some unintelligible war cry. Behind him, he felt the soldiers matching him. He ignored some connection trying to reach out to him through his link, and for a brief moment, he wondered what command must be thinking about his gambit. Their charge must have looked like the stands emptying at the end of a football game upset. It was exhilarating and nothing short of the adrenaline rush he¡¯d been chasing. The distance between the fighting shrank quickly, and suddenly Nero found himself jumping into the fray like a madman. He quite literally JUMPED into the fray. Like an idiot, he leaped at a 7-foot-tall kobald and speared him in the chest with his sword, dragging the bastard down while screaming incomprehensibly. All around him, he felt the soldiers slamming into the kobalds like rocks against a glass house. Despite there being some of the larger kobalds among the assault, most of them were just the little guys. They didn¡¯t stand a chance against a full-sized human coming at them at a run. It was a bloodbath¡­ Literally. Nero felt doused in blood and gore as the kobalds around him were ripped apart. The humans were just as capable as kobalds when it came to savagery, and they were introducing the kobalds to their darker impulses¡­ in excruciating detail. Climbing off the dead kobald below him, he hacked and slashed whatever lizard he could find. It was no controlled melee, or organized assault, that was for sure. Yet, he could see that any human body found was being passed back through the lines and protected by those around him. Even in the middle of their insanity, the soldiers had enough humanity to remember why they were here. Nero¡¯s attention was brought back to the battle by an errant slash cutting into his side. The pain was enough to shock him out of his madness, and he looked down at the kobald who¡¯d injured him in shock. Although a quick backhand strike to its neck was enough to put it down, it wasn¡¯t enough to regain his sense of invincibility, or lack of self-awareness. ¡®What the fuck am I doing!?!¡¯ he yelled at himself. He mentally cast a healing spell while he kept fighting, having gotten very good at combat healing while under Cathleen¡¯s tender training. The sights and sounds of the melee going on around him caused his head to swim. ¡®This was a stupidly bad idea,¡¯ he chided himself. But, he had to admit¡­ they were winning. Somehow, they¡¯d pushed forward enough to collect some of the human bodies. While they were torn apart, they might not be beyond saving. Now, the only question was how to get these dumbasses to organize a retreat and lead the kobalds into the trap? He wasn¡¯t on their command channel, and he¡¯d muted his link. He couldn¡¯t just ¡®order¡¯ them to retreat, could he? Nobody would hear him. Part of his mind worked on the problem while most of his attention stayed on the kobalds in front of him. Slash, parry, stab¡­ he worked like a machine. It was like he was back in the ring with Cathleen. No shield, just technique and determination. ¡®Why the fuck don¡¯t I have my shield out?¡¯ he screamed at himself, before pulling one out from his personal space. ¡®Why am I fighting like an idiot?¡¯ he wondered. Trying to take deep breaths, he maintained his combat awareness. He began fighting smarter, his mind slowly adapting to the situation and calming down. It took a minute, but his senses finally began clearing up. He could feel himself disconnecting from the weird mob mentality that was being supercharged by the overlapping essence fields around him. ¡®The sense of community being a real thing here is fucking dangerous,¡¯ he reminded himself. Deciding that it was time to regain some control over these morons who¡¯d followed him into battle, he let himself fall back into the crowd of soldiers behind him. He was quickly replaced at the front of the fighting, and he found himself surrounded by tall soldiers forcing their way forward. He was small enough to be ignored, and all he could see was shoulders and backs. Now, having a moment to think, he focused on the problem. I have to get these idiots to retreat, or whatever plan was in place is going to be ruined. Figuring he didn¡¯t have a better idea, he focused hard and spread out his essence field like a scoop. He needed his mage armor, and he needed it not to suck for once. While closing his eyes and letting the mass of humanity bounce him around like a pinball wasn¡¯t ideal, it was necessary. He felt the essence compress against his skin and clothes. He could even feel that he¡¯d collected potential from all the death going on around him. It was a heady feeling that he struggled to keep under control. Nevertheless, he eventually corralled the essence into what he wanted. He reached out with his center and connected to it. With his ironclad will he forced it to become what he needed. ¡®Protect. Defend. Secure. Shelter,¡¯ he repeated over and over again in his mind. He felt the shield manifest and he let his awareness retreat while keeping part of his mind attached like a cord to the shield. ¡®OK. I get why they call it an essence shield now,¡¯ he thought, annoyed at how his brain chose to conceptualize what he was doing. Opening his eyes, he felt his awareness return to the present. He found himself still surrounded by soldiers, being carried along by the wave of humanity he¡¯d unleashed. With a sigh, he decided that it was time. He cast his pillar spell and rose himself up into the air, the soldiers around him having to adapt to the sudden earthen pillar thrusting itself up out of the ground. He immediately felt several people faceplanting into it, stumbling to a stop in shock around it. The spell was surprisingly difficult to cast with how many essence fields were interfering with it. He looked over the battlefield, quickly determining that they had indeed made it back to the lines, and paused the kobald¡¯s assault. He could only hope that they had collected the bodies and were getting them resuscitated like he¡¯d planned. Thinking back, he barely recalled what his speech had actually entailed, and he wasn¡¯t sure he even mentioned collecting the bodies. ¡®Whatever¡­ it doesn¡¯t matter,¡¯ he told himself. ¡®It¡¯s still time to get the hell out of here.¡¯ Now that he was raised up like a target, he saw the kobalds in the middle of their horde taking notice of him. He immediately raised his shield to hide behind while the enemy spears began slamming into it. Shouting as loudly as he could, he called out, ¡°Alright! We got what we came for! Everyone pass along orders for an organized retreat! Fall back!¡± He didn¡¯t get a response, and he had no idea if anyone was even paying attention to him with all the chaos going on all around them. Right as he was about to try again, he felt a spell flying toward him and he peeked out from behind his shield to see a kobald 20 feet away pointing at him with hate in his beady little eyes. The line of fire heading his way burned through his essence field like a knife through butter, and he felt it coming for him like an arrow. ¡®Well¡­ shit,¡¯ he thought, right before the spell slammed into his shield and launched him off his pillar. He landed on top of some soldiers who were kind enough to gently lower him down from his crowd surfing. As he was a teenager, he was small enough for them to manhandle him relatively easily, and the damage to his pride was worse than what happened to his shield. He muttered a brief thanks and looked down at his warped and melted shield with a grimace. ¡®That could have gone better,¡¯ he thought. Yet, he noticed that their forward progress had halted. In fact, it seemed like they were actually backing up. After a few moments he was positive¡­ they were retreating. Not only that, they were doing it with some level of organization. He felt himself smiling widely at the realization that his plan had, in fact, worked. His idiotic hap-hazard plan had actually gone right for once. It was a miracle on par with the successful marketing of the iPhone. While his thoughts raced, he kept staring at his ruined shield, letting himself be pulled along by the crowd around him. ¡®How did spells affect him while everyone was in melee? Shouldn¡¯t the overlapping essence fields make that incredibly difficult? Wasn¡¯t that the point of the big ass shields above their heads?¡¯ he wondered. Suddenly, the answer came to him in a flash. He¡¯d separated himself from the melee. More than that, he¡¯d separated himself from that sense of community he felt with everyone around him. Big groups required big spells¡­ he knew that. Casters stayed at a distance so they could attack essence fields without being disrupted by essence bleed-through. That¡¯s why casters were in the back and had to attack from a distance. It was also why it required war mages and skilled casters to fight in large groups. It all came down to a battle of wills. Mages had to keep their center controlled while being in the midst of battle. They needed to separate themselves from the melee and concentrate on casting. He had thought it had to do with maintaining their centers, but it was more than that. He recalled the war mage, Howie, casting spells and ripping apart kobalds while staying in the center of the formation, constantly maintaining his distance. Nero realized he was keeping himself separate from the essence fields¡­ attacking the kobalds from a distance with his own essence clear of any influences. The required distance made the overhead shields become a factor. But, what if he kept himself mentally separate while staying near the front of the lines? Wouldn¡¯t he bypass the kobald¡¯s overhead protections? Granted, he¡¯d need a hell of a lot of center to overcome THEIR overlapping essence shields¡­ but did that matter? He had plenty of potential lying around in the ether from all their death. Why couldn¡¯t he put it to good use? As long as he made it ¡®look¡¯ like they were normal spells, how would anyone know unless they were a mage, and they wouldn¡¯t be out here anyway. Grinning like an idiot, he slowly carved his ¡®acid barrage¡¯ spell form and fed it the remnants of the souls in the ether. He felt it collect the needed essence for its spell from the strands of essence around him like a sponge. He held up his hand and let loose a barrage of acid balls, arcing in a short hop over the top of the fighting. It took a little focus, but his perception field showed him the results of his efforts. Just like he¡¯d hoped, the packed-together kobalds were like fish in a barrel and his shots covered tens of them in acidic pain and misery. It took an enormous amount of potential to overcome their overlapping fields, but it was worth it. It was both disgusting and wonderful in equal measure. He could still feel the subtle desire to rejoin emotionally with everyone around him, but he held himself back and continued to focus on his casting. It was surprisingly harder than he thought it would be. Between maintaining his mage armor, which he was keeping up due to how well he¡¯d made it and the ever-present sense of community bearing down on him, it was taking all his concentration to maintain the clarity of thought required for his casting. As the crowd carried him along, his entire focus was on keeping his center under control, maintaining his spells, and dealing death to the enemy. Before long, he felt himself come to a stop, and through his perception field, he realized that they were back where he¡¯d started. Some ¡®way¡¯, some ¡®how¡¯, they¡¯d successfully retreated back to their original position. The kobalds were continuing their assault, still thinking they were somehow winning while being wiped out by the hundreds. He couldn¡¯t see what was going on with the other sides of the rectangular trap, but he could only assume everything was back on track and the plan was progressing as it should have. All in all, everything seemed to have worked out perfectly. ¡®Now where the hell did I leave my wackos?¡¯ he thought to himself. Chapter 193 - United we stand... or something. Glancing to his left and right, Captain Angleton noted the grim faces of the elites alongside him. His efforts to keep his opinions on their orders to himself had failed miserably. Even Sergeant Blackwood appeared less than happy with what they were about to do. He felt like grinding his teeth in anger but instead settled on firming his jaw and forcing himself to be unaffected. On the surface, their orders were simple. He and his relief team were to head to where the kobalds were assaulting in force, then engage briefly before pulling back. The goal being to entice the kobalds into overextending and allow the rest of the army to envelop them and subsequently wipe them out. The dispatch commander he¡¯d spoken with had been very specific. They were not to ¡®waste time on body reclamation¡¯. They were only to ensure that the kobalds were slowed, but not stopped. Just recalling the commander¡¯s cold, clinical tone was enough to make him clench his reigns in his fist tight enough to turn his knuckles white. For a Knight of Dorchester to purposefully abandon soldiers to soul death was nothing short of disgraceful. Taking a deep breath, he reminded himself of the likely reasoning behind his orders. Every moment they wasted on this war, they were burning essence crystals to fuel their shields. Their crystal reserves had never been high. And, regardless of how much the recent density shift was aiding them with new sources of crystals, it simply wasn¡¯t enough to overcome centuries of forced budgeting. From an economic standpoint, they were simply unprepared for this level of fighting. They needed this to end. Sooner rather than later. Yet, humans were attrition fighters. It was in their blood. It was how they were trained. As long as they stood together, held the line, and watched out for each other, their victory was just a matter of time. With soldier rotations, solid healing, and the ability to resuscitate their dead, there was nothing that could overcome humanity''s war machine. Sacrificing good men and women of Dorchester to save some resources was both unnecessary and shameful. But, orders were orders. He was duty-bound to follow them. Captain Angleton¡¯s mental discussion with himself paused as the kobalds began their charge. From his vantage point, he could see the mass of kobalds rush down the mountain in loose formation, ready and willing to sacrifice themselves by the hundreds to overwhelm the human fighters. While he felt like holding his breath in anticipation of the coming collision, he forced himself to take slow steady breaths. He quickly looked around to judge the progress of the preparations for the envelopment maneuver. From what he could see, the army looked ready. Although he could only hope that someone remembered to move the battle-hub. Or perhaps command was expecting it to act as some kind of incentive for the kobalds? Shaking his head slightly, he banished the pointless line of thought. He needed to focus on his duty. Just in time, his attention returned to the battle lines. The kobalds hit like an avalanche, slamming into the lines and nearly running over the humans despite their difference in stature. He could already see fighters retreating, forced to leave their dead or dying comrades behind. They probably believed that reinforcements were coming to help them recover the bodies. The words of his oath of knighthood whispered in the back of his head. ¡®I will stand in front of the innocent. My struggle is with the guilty. I will allow no evil in my soul. My struggle is with the corrupt. Body, mind, and soul are one. My center is respect. My center is duty. My center is me.¡¯ He shouted over his command link and out into the air, ¡°Soldiers of Dorchester! On Me!¡± With his heart already jackhammering, he nearly snarled in anger at the feelings of shame bubbling up from his center. He ordered his steed to charge and held up his sword as a promise of victory. ¡®But there will be no victory here,¡¯ he thought sourly. He used the predefined lanes of assault through the defensive berms to plow into the kobalds. He heard himself roaring in challenge. He and his steed stomped over the kobalds like they were crushing grapes. He deployed shields where he could to save as many of the remaining fighters as possible. Time seemed to become meaningless as he was forced to constantly watch soldiers falling back and leaving more dead bodies to be discarded under the kobald¡¯s clawed feet. He felt his center shake as he condemned himself for not pushing into the kobalds and recovering those brave men and women. Over his command line, he heard the voice of the commander. That cold, emotionless voice overcame the cacophony of battle by injecting itself directly into his head. ¡°Pull back slowly. Do not push them too hard. Your duty is to merely delay them,¡± it demanded. He felt like his very being was breaking. His center was spilling out like water as he couldn¡¯t concentrate on maintaining it. Then, as if the world was conspiring to unmake him, he felt his fellow captains and their troops disengage from the battle. He whipped his head around to see them pulling back, abandoning the fight and leaving these men and women to die. Over his command line, he shouted, ¡°What are you doing?!? Get your units back here!¡± Immediately, he heard Captain Inkler reply, ¡°You have your orders. We have ours.¡± Then, Captain Onslow¡¯s mocking voice added, ¡°Good luck, Captain. Die well.¡± The shock of being abandoned was almost enough to ruin him. From all sides, the kobalds were clawing at his legs, attempting to rip him from his saddle. His steed¡¯s emotions were roiling as it spun in circles and tried vainly to defend itself. He couldn¡¯t stop himself from staring at the battle. The kobalds were climbing over the berms, pulling down soldiers left and right. Without his fellow captain¡¯s troops, the situation devolved into a rout. They were simply being overrun. Humans were dying by the dozens and he could do nothing to stop it. The tenets of his order rang out in his head. The need to do ¡®something¡¯ was almost overpowering. His ¡®duty¡¯ demanded it. His ¡®perseverance¡¯ required it. His ¡®honor¡¯ cried out for it. But, somewhere in the depths of his center he knew it was pointless. Command had abandoned him and his elites. They were being left as an incentive for the kobalds. He could almost imagine the delight they would feel when they brought him and his troops down and left them bleeding out in the dirt. Already, he could feel several of his elite¡¯s horses being killed and their riders dying under the kobald¡¯s blades. He felt hot tears streaking down his face. He¡¯d failed. Then, something in the ether stirred. He felt the world hold its breath, and the resolve of the kobalds around him began to falter. Even from atop his horse, he could feel the ground shaking in anticipation of something¡­ something that was coming. Sensing a massive emotional presence behind him, he looked over his shoulder and spread out his senses, dropping his jaw in shock at what he found. Hundreds, maybe thousands of soldiers in mismatched armor and poor equipment broke ranks and charged into battle. He could feel their war cries echoing into the ether with their defiance. As one their essence screamed in outrage and refused to let it happen. Like a competing horde, they slammed into the kobalds like a spear. They weren¡¯t even in formation. Whatever was compelling them to act had them doing it at a flat-out run. He couldn¡¯t tell who was leading them, but something about the smaller-than-average profile made his center tremble with hope. Despite their pathetic weapons and their sub-par training, they cut through the kobalds like butter. Suddenly he was surrounded not by kobalds, but by humans. He could see them passing bodies back through the lines, sending them off to hopefully be resuscitated. It was clear to him that they weren¡¯t here to kill kobalds, that was just a bonus, instead, they had come to save whoever they could. His center sang in response to their valor. He could see that they were penal units. One and all, the lowest of the low. They were the kind of men and women who were only on the battlefield because they were forced to be. Yet, their honor had demanded them to act. This tale has been unlawfully obtained from Royal Road. If you discover it on Amazon, kindly report it. It was glorious. The kobalds weren¡¯t pushed back, they were obliterated. The battle lines quickly returned to where they had started. Then, as if their purpose had been achieved, they began to slowly retreat. But, they still left no one behind. Any fallen were quickly sent back for healing. He felt his center harden, regaining its luster under the physical representation of his code being displayed to all the world. His sword arm trembled with poorly contained might as he cut down the enemies of humanity by the dozen. He let himself and his forces be pulled back alongside them, seamlessly joining their organized retreat. ¡®This¡­ This is what their orders SHOULD have been,¡¯ he thought to himself. His faith in humanity and the men and women of Dorchester had been restored, and he felt the ether tremble as his center refilled itself. He recognized what was happening, but he couldn¡¯t believe it. He was leveling. ¡ª-- Nero¡¯s mind calmed as the battle changed gears. He and the soldiers around him were now simply holding their position and dispatching the kobalds without retreating. He paused his casting and let his senses expand to their fullest. Somewhere out there were his wackos, and he needed to find them. He fully expected them to be nearby, as he couldn¡¯t have been launched too far away during his ill-fated ¡®pillar-maneuver¡¯. ¡®There!¡¯ he mentally cried out in joy. Not 50 feet away, he could see Cathleen and the others grouped up in a tight formation. Their organized and impenetrable example served as a beacon in the ether. All around them, soldiers seemed to follow their example, copying what the ¡®cool¡¯ kids were doing. Nero slipped through the crowd, eager to rejoin his minions. He felt himself unable to contain his giggling as he recalled how WELL his plan had gone. Hopefully, the soldiers they¡¯d saved were being brought back, and command¡¯s plan hadn¡¯t been screwed up too much. When he looked out into the kobald horde with his perception field, he certainly couldn¡¯t see the kobalds falling back, or calling off their doomed assault. To him, it looked like they¡¯d saved the soldiers and kept the ambush plan on track. ¡°My Lord! Thank all the heavens above! I knew you¡¯d survive!¡± called out one of the wackos. Nero¡¯s attention snapped up to the woman staring at him with nothing short of worship in her eyes. Feeling uncomfortable, he replied, ¡°Uh, yeah. No worries here. I¡¯m still kicking. I need to talk to Cathleen though.¡± The woman¡¯s smile morphed into confusion, yet the worship in her eyes remained. ¡°Why don¡¯t you just talk to her over the command line?¡± Nero froze for a second, his brain seemingly needing to reboot. ¡°Right. The command line. Good call.¡± Gesturing off toward the battle going on 10 or 20 feet away from them, he continued, ¡°Feel free to continue the war-making. I¡¯ll be along shortly.¡± The woman whose name he could not for the life of him remember replied, ¡°Of course, my lord.¡± He watched in amusement as she turned away and eagerly awaited her chance to switch out with the front line. Reaching out to reconnect with his link, he was not surprised to find the damn thing filled to the brim with pings. The battle-hub had supplanted the typical organizational structure he was used to. Instead of the equivalent of the internet, he instead had a private network. It had its own operating system equivalent, and it took a second for him to undo what he¡¯d done by instinct. Somehow, he¡¯d overridden the damn thing to ignore incoming messages. Which, he could tell by looking at the options, should have been impossible. Somehow, he¡¯d deferred everything into an inbox, saving them for later. Which, of course, completely disregarded the point of a real-time communications system. Shrugging his shoulders in dismissal of the absurdity of it all, he stretched out his mind into the link and demanded it to revert to default. For whatever reason, whether through some kind of intent-level translation, or hidden programming, that did the trick. He was back on the command line, slotted back into his previous authority level. He immediately selected Cathleen and reached out to her. Immediately, he heard Cathleen¡¯s voice demand, ¡°Where the hell have you been? Has your link been damaged?¡± Nero replied with a mental smile. God, he loved that woman. She didn¡¯t even bother to ask him if he was alright. She just mentally prepped a lecture on taking care of his equipment. If he wasn¡¯t able to actually ¡®feel¡¯ that she was being serious, he¡¯d have assumed she was only pretending to be so badass. He didn¡¯t think women like her EXISTED outside comic books and movies. ¡°I¡¯m fine. Thank you for asking. And my link is perfectly fine too. What¡¯s the situation?¡± he asked snidely. Through his perception field, he watched her continue fighting as if she wasn¡¯t remotely affected by their conversation. ¡°As you still haven¡¯t connected to the command line with command, I¡¯ve been maintaining contact with Commander Otoy. They are furious with your commandeering the penal divisions. However, everything seems to still be going according to plan. We are to hold this position and await further orders,¡± she replied curtly. Nero struggled to contain his laughter. The ¡®command line with command¡¯, and ¡®Commander Otoy¡¯ just sounded¡­ hilarious to him. He just imagined some fat guy in a tent filled with toys screaming at his monitor about ¡®insubordination¡¯ and whining that no one was listening to him. Over the connection, Cathleen must have felt his amusement because she asked, ¡°Little Lord? Are you unwell?¡± Nero took control of himself, forcing his overwhelming happiness with the situation back down to acceptable levels. ¡°I¡¯m good. I¡¯m just a little punch drunk with how well it all turned out,¡± he replied. He felt her presence solidify into ice as she responded, ¡°It¡¯s not over yet. We still have to wipe them out and then proceed to their stronghold. Until we either seal their exit tunnel or track it back to their base camp, we¡¯re not nearly done with this war.¡± Nero felt himself nodding at the sobering thought of how much fighting they¡¯d be doing. ¡°Yeah, I get that. I was just enjoying the moment for a second. You can relax.¡± Through his perception field, he watched her move quickly enough to blur before spearing a kobald through its head. He felt himself wince as he heard her reply, ¡°Relaxing is the last thing we should be doing.¡± Remember that he was in the middle of a war, he replied, ¡°Yeah, OK. So what now?¡± Her presence seemed to sigh. ¡°I already told you. We¡¯re to stay here and hold this position until further orders.¡± Nero frowned. To him, that seemed incredibly boring. Looking around with his perception field, he didn¡¯t even see any casters he could copy. In fact, there were so many people around, he was having trouble maintaining his emotional distance from the overlapping essence fields. The ether felt like mud, and he no longer had confidence in being able to cast. Yet, he could see abilities being fired off by the soldiers. There were flashes of color going off like fireworks. He saw blades glowing, arrows leaving lines in the air, and even small explosions that reminded him of tiny grenades. But none of them were spells. For the first time, he regretted not having any abilities from his pillar. He stood there comfortably, still covered in blood, still surrounded by soldiers itching for the chance to rejoin the battle, not really knowing what to do. Feeling a little uncomfortable bothering Cathleen for a lecture, he suddenly remembered Nick was around here somewhere. He quickly used his perception field to find him and was surprised to see him using his sword to hack away at the kobalds like a barbarian. ¡®That isn¡¯t how a mage is supposed to fight. At worst, he should be ¡®casting¡¯ FIST!¡¯ he thought to himself with a smile. Semi-worried about distracting him, he tentatively reached out to form a connection with him. He was able to see the moment Nick recognized his mental touch. The smile on his friend¡¯s face was enough to warm his cold, dead heart. Feeling the connection establish, he said, ¡°Hey Nick! Having fun?¡± Amusement flooded the connection as Nick replied, ¡°Sure, Nero. Nothing like bloodshed and misery to brighten the day. What are you up to?¡± Nero replied, ¡°Nothing much. Just chilling. But, if you have a moment, I could use a lecture. I¡¯m about 30 ft to your left and around 15 ft from the line.¡± Nero watched Nick nod in acknowledgment before letting the wacko behind him take over for him. As he made his way over, he asked, ¡°What subject has you interested enough to ignore the war going on all around you?¡± Nero chuckled and replied, ¡°Combat casting in the middle of the war. I thought I understood, but then I had a little epiphany, and now I¡¯m confused again.¡± As Nick slipped through the crowd, he replied, ¡°That¡¯s understandable. Perception shapes reality, and the more you learn, the more the world seems to change around you. While the rules themselves don¡¯t change, how you perceive them does. How about you explain your epiphany, and I¡¯ll try and interpret it for you.¡± Nero tried to ignore the jostling going on around him, closing his eyes as he concentrated on how to describe what he¡¯d learned. ¡°Well, it¡¯s like this. When we were training with Specialist Howie, you and he made it clear that more overlapping essence fields made casting harder. That¡¯s why casters stay in the back. It¡¯s not just so they don¡¯t get shanked while they¡¯re distracted. Also, throwing spells into dense areas of combat requires increased levels of center, so it¡¯s normally reserved for war casters and people with iron-clad wills to maintain their centers. But earlier, while in the battle, I managed to somehow push aside the essence fields around me and kind of create a zone just around me that was just mine, and mine alone. It somehow made casting much easier, and I was able to carve spell forms with no problem. I kinda still used the souls and whatnot that were floating around to power them, but that¡¯s another conversation altogether. I want to focus on the weird essence field thing.¡± Nick had finally arrived next to Nero as he¡¯d been talking. Looking down at his young friend, he frowned and replied, ¡°You mean you were able to seize the center. Remember? We talked about that.¡± Nero tried to recall what Nick was talking about but got nothing. ¡°Remind me,¡± he asked. Nick rolled his eyes and replied, ¡°Seizing the center is a term used in combat casting where you take control of the local essence around you. It¡¯s when you infuse your will and intentions into the ether and ¡®seize¡¯ the center of your existence. By doing so, you separate yourself from the essence signatures that try and influence you. A strong mage can even rip control from another, overwhelming enemy mages and cutting off their ability to cast altogether.¡± Nero vaguely recalled hearing something about that. But that wasn¡¯t really what he was asking. Trying to find a better way to frame his question, he asked, ¡°But how does that affect the whole ¡®group-think¡¯ thing that happens when everyone around me is all riled up and rearing to go?¡± Nick looked confused, apparently having trouble interpreting Nero¡¯s word choice. ¡°Group-think? I think you¡¯re referring to emotional transference. It¡¯s when people become united in purpose. It¡¯s the cornerstone of civilization and unit tactics. I¡¯m not sure I understand¡­ OH! I get it. That must seem very confusing to you, huh?¡± Nero just stared blankly up at him. ¡°Yes, Nick. It¡¯s confusing to me.¡± Stifling a chuckle, Nick replied, ¡°Well, as everyone can ¡®feel¡¯ what others are feeling. When emotions and desires all point in the same direction, communities are born. As humans, we come together to become more than the sum of our parts. We become one entity, driven by a singular desire to succeed in concert. Together, we can do great things. We can raise cities, change landscapes¡­ We can protect each other. That feeling of ¡®togetherness¡¯ is what makes it all possible.¡± Nero heard Nick¡¯s emotionally charged speech, and could ¡®feel¡¯ through the connection how serious the man was. There was almost a reverence underlying his tone that made the hairs on Nero¡¯s neck stand up in panic. ¡°Yeah¡­ that just sounds like the world itself is conspiring to make everyone get along, and I don¡¯t like it,¡± he replied with a look of disgust on his face. Nick, not having expected that response, stood there in shock, having no idea what to say to that. Chapter 194 - Im a what now? In the Hennings Tower of Magic, time was both an abundant resource and one that required careful budgeting. Research projects, paperwork, meetings with subordinates, meetings with superiors, studying, training, and whatever personal pursuits one chose to indulge in¡­ there was always something that needed doing. Luckily, a skilled mage had hundreds of years to get it all done. Life in the tower was a constant struggle, one which felt like it would never end. Or, at least that¡¯s how it was for Mage-Adept Hana Sovros, who was currently sitting in her office rubbing her eyes with her palms while trying to stifle a yawn. The holograms floating above her desk displayed the current research grant requests from the cities she was in charge of monitoring, along with historical records showing how similar cities had been treated during equivalent levels of development. Dropping her hands to the arms of her chair, she leaned back in her seat and stared blankly at the floating ¡®headaches¡¯ for a while. Not for the first time, she wondered what the Walker would think about her chosen profession. As a liaison between the Hennings Tower of Magic and the Directors of Research, she helped them discover the answers to questions that had already been answered. Her entire job was to subtly and carefully guide research directions for the younger cities while ensuring they didn¡¯t kill themselves due to their ignorance. Were it not incredibly illegal, she could simply give them the completed research papers from the archives, but she knew she wouldn¡¯t. It was just so exhausting to have the same cycle repeating itself with every new city founded within the kingdom. ¡®The Walker would tell me I¡¯m wasting my life with this nonsense,¡¯ she told herself, probably for the thousandth time. But, part of her knew that what she was doing was both necessary and important work. What she was doing was like gardening. She was helping these cities grow, aiding them while they chase their dreams and reach for a higher level. It was a proven fact that lessons given were not nearly as useful as lessons learned. ¡®But do I have to be the one doing it?¡¯ she mentally griped. She remembered when she¡¯d first joined the tower. She¡¯d been so young and full of life. Everything was new and exciting. Each day was filled with hard-earned knowledge and victories against her competitors. By the time she was 100 years old, she was already level 53. But then came the responsibility she¡¯d earned with her success. Her pace along her path slowed like everyone¡¯s does, and now it had recently slowed to a crawl. For over 200 years she¡¯d been at her job, and she was barely level 67. She hadn¡¯t achieved Arch-mage status, or done anything of note in years. And while age creep hadn¡¯t caught up to her, it was only a matter of time. But, if there was one thing she¡¯d learned from the Walker, it was that everyone¡¯s journey was personal. She needed to decide what she wanted and not let anyone¡¯s opinion or perspective influence her identity. Her personal beliefs and desires should be the only thing that mattered to her. How she contributed to society was up to her, and no one else. She was on her own path, and it required courage and resolve to walk it. For the first time in a long time, she felt like she was moving forward again. The door to her office slammed open, and her assistant Kevin rushed in followed by Mage-adept Dustiny. Hana could tell right away by their faces that it wasn¡¯t an emergency. They were both just overly excited about something again. ¡°What is it this time?¡± she asked. Kevin¡¯s smile was so big his eyes were nearly closed, while Cadence was bouncing around like she¡¯d just leveled. Mage-adept Dustiny couldn¡¯t contain herself and shouted, ¡°Cadence just uploaded a new record of the Walker! We need to go to the Hall of Adventure to access it!¡± Not wasting a second, Hana began closing down her work. From what she could tell from the last record she¡¯d seen, this one should be showing the Walker¡¯s return to combat. After the introduction of his ¡®Wackos¡¯ and several interesting philosophical discussions, she was looking forward to seeing some action again. ¡®Even after having been raised to a unique, he chooses to stay and fight. He walks his path in defiance of convention, choosing to protect what he loves while manipulating the system into having others pay him for it. He makes the game look effortless. The Walker is an inspiration!¡¯ she remarked to herself happily. She heard Kevin ask from the door, ¡°Do you mind if I come along? I don¡¯t want to wait until my shift is over.¡± Not bothering to pause what she was doing, she asked absently, ¡°Did you finish the analysis on Veceen¡¯s request for military aid? If I recall correctly, it had something to do with their research into the Barrow-site dungeon, correct?¡± Immediately changing her mind, she continued, ¡°You know what? You can finish it later. This is more important.¡± Ignoring Kevin¡¯s gratitude, she marched through the door. Mage-adept Dustiny smoothly took up her place alongside her while Kevin followed along behind them. Kevin nervously noted, ¡°This is the first time I¡¯ll be seeing the Hall of Adventure after it was renamed!¡± Looking over her shoulder, she glared at him and sniped, ¡°Not in the hallways!¡± ¡°Sorry, Mage-adept,¡± he replied sheepishly. On the right, Mage-adept Dustiny chuckled merrily at the young man¡¯s awkward enthusiasm. Hana resumed walking while thinking about how well their little group was doing. They¡¯d finally agreed on a name¡­ The Adventure Society. Unsurprisingly, it was due to the Walker¡¯s influence more than anything else. After thinking about it, she couldn¡¯t believe they had actually been trying to start a knightly order under the Walker. That wasn¡¯t what her Lord was about at all. He truly was¡­ an adventurer. Even thinking about the word made her smile. It was the reason they all chose to follow his example. The sense that there was ¡®more¡¯ to discover, more to see, more to do! Never in her life had she felt like her path was so unobstructed, and it was all thanks to the Walker. She couldn¡¯t wait to see him in action once again! ¡ª-- Nero had seen many variations of Nick¡¯s ¡®shocked¡¯ expression, but he had to admit, this one was something special. The man was absolutely paralyzed with indecision as to how to reply to his statement. Having spoken without thinking, Nero had to mentally rewind to figure out what he¡¯d said to cause such a hilarious response. Recalling what he¡¯d said, Nero had to admit it probably sounded pretty crazy to someone who¡¯d grown up with peer pressure being more than a mere psychological tactic. In this world, ¡®community¡¯ and ¡®the soul of the people¡¯ were real, measurable things. For Nero to so blatantly dismiss them, while also priding himself on his individuality, Nick must be both confused and horrified. Choosing to clarify his statement, Nero tried to calm his friend down. ¡°Don¡¯t get me wrong. It¡¯s not like I don¡¯t want to be part of the community, or that I want to ¡®reject my humanity¡¯ or anything. It¡¯s just that I want my choices to be free of any outside influences. The idea that other people¡¯s feelings can affect my thought process is terrifying to me. I¡¯m too much of a snowflake to allow myself to melt into the puddle of mob mentality,¡± he said while chuckling internally at the pop culture references he was able to slip into his explanation. Nick¡¯s dropped jaw closed with a snap, and Nero could see the man struggle to understand his point of view. Stolen story; please report. ¡°I suppose I can see that. Without having grown up with a physical sense of those around you, it follows that the people from your world were very individualistic and self-centered. From what you told me of your world, I can only assume that a lot of your culture''s problems came from people choosing to band together with others who shared similar or compatible personal beliefs,¡± replied Nick with a thoughtful look on his face. Nero nodded quickly, accepting Nick¡¯s point immediately. ¡°It feels like it was the total opposite of here. In this world, a sense of community happens when a bunch of people come together. But back home, communities were founded by people who went out and searched for people who agreed with them. I¡¯m betting that¡¯s why the culture here follows ¡®logic¡¯ and separates opinions from their laws. Otherwise, you¡¯d all end up agreeing with each other to death,¡± he said. Nick frowned as if insulted. ¡°Well obviously. You can¡¯t just create laws that follow the will of the people without reason. That would lead to nothing but chaos¡­ Oh, right,¡± he replied, before remembering how Nero described his old world. Nero chuckled, not even remotely offended by Nick¡¯s categorization of Earth¡¯s factional nature. Their conversation was interrupted by an explosion in the center of the kobald horde. Nero felt himself instinctually duck at the sound. ¡®Right¡­ war¡¯s still going on. Not the time for philosophy lessons that are actually physics lessons,¡¯ he reminded himself. The crowd of troops had pushed both him and Nick further back from the line, and he had to admit he wasn¡¯t exactly unhappy about it. While he¡¯d enjoyed his time on the front lines, his mind seemed to be struggling with the real-world applications of social philosophy he had been confronted with. All around him, he could still ¡®feel¡¯ the communal desire to fight for humanity and the inherent ¡®need¡¯ to wipe out the invaders. It was hard not to just let himself go and get lost in it. Nick¡¯s hand on his shoulder pulled him out of his thoughts. ¡°Not that I don¡¯t enjoy our little talks, but I don¡¯t think this is the right time for it. You should probably be seen fighting with your adherents if you wish to successfully bind them to your house,¡± Nick said as if he were reminding Nero that only good boys get dessert. Nero nodded in agreement before letting Nick lead him back through the crowd. On the way, Nero wondered if ¡®loyalty¡¯ here was more like animal imprinting back home. Would the wackos become more loyal over time as they grew closer? In a world like this, where philosophy and magic worked together to define reality, was joining a house more like choosing to let yourself be brainwashed? Remembering the overwhelming feeling he had when he¡¯d given his oath to Dorchester, he suddenly worried that he might have already accidentally drunk the metaphorical Kool-aid. ¡®Could that be why I haven¡¯t already ditched this city? I mean, I¡¯m all for adventure, but why the hell am I putting my ass on the line for these people? Has their stupidity somehow infected me through my essence field?¡¯ he wondered. Nero¡¯s thoughts were interrupted by Nick¡¯s not-so-subtle push, and he found himself back in combat with the kobalds. He idly noticed that he was replacing one of his wackos who¡¯d retreated with a limp. ¡®He¡¯s probably heading off to get healed,¡¯ he thought absently. He felt himself fall back into the rhythm of combat. His shield and sword were becoming second nature to him at this point. The kobald¡¯s hissing and poor weapon skills were getting easier and easier to overcome. Although, this time the fighting was much more continuous. It wasn¡¯t at all like it was when he¡¯d been fighting them in waves. Here, they were packed together like sardines, and it reminded him of when he¡¯d fought with the elites to close the portal. While he¡¯d prefer to be practicing his magic, he had no problem with fighting in melee. After all, he still had his mage armor up, so he wasn¡¯t in all that much danger at the moment. Speaking of which, his armor was much easier to maintain than he remembered. It might have something to do with how he¡¯d cast it, but it was probably just due to good old-fashioned practice. After skewering a kobald on his sword, he used his shield to push the corpse off the blade. He took a moment to enjoy a brief respite while the dead body hindered the kobalds behind it. However, that didn¡¯t last long as the kobalds simply shoved their former comrade into the dirt and stepped over him like he was already forgotten. ¡®I don¡¯t think I¡¯ll ever truly understand how these things think,¡¯ he told himself. Blocking a spear thrust with his shield, he lashed out with the tip of his sword to keep another kobald off balance. There were so many bodies under his feet that he had to be careful to watch his step. With the fighting being in such close quarters, there just wasn¡¯t enough room to clear out the enemy casualties. It was almost shocking how quickly circumstances changed when the kobald bodies piled up enough to be an actual problem. Nero guessed it only took around 20 minutes, and a few discrete 10 or 15-foot retreats before the kobalds were forced to physically CLIMB over their dead to attack them. Yes, they still did attack, but the pace of the battle became slow enough that their efforts became almost sad. Eventually, Nero watched as kobald shamans who¡¯d been hanging back were forced to start burning their dead to clear a path. The fact that they were even out here in the middle of melee seemed pointless to him. Between the overhead shields, their short stature, and the instability of the ether, it wasn¡¯t like they could actually DO anything. ¡®Maybe they are feeling left out, and just decided to try and be helpful?¡¯ he wondered. Unfortunately, setting fire to piles of bodies with magic in the middle of their forces turned out to be a terrible idea. Who knew? Whatever fight the kobalds had left was burned out in short order as the magically-fed flames spread rapidly. Nero backed up with the rest of the army and just watched the poor lizards burn in their own personal hell. It was a monstrous sight that would haunt his nightmares for weeks¡­ probably¡­ or at least possibly. Nero couldn¡¯t help but snort as he watched one brilliant kobald try and smother the flames on another one by hitting it over the head with his spear. Had there not been as much death and misery in the air, he would have laughed out loud at the sight of it. He got his answer to why the kobald shamans and casters were there when the shields over the kobald¡¯s forces faltered. They must have been there to actively maintain the shields. But, apparently being in the middle of a tempest of fire was enough to disrupt their casting. As a result, it suddenly became open season for the human casters and Nero was finally able to witness what spell casting could do when it wasn¡¯t held back by an opponent''s shields. Isolated pockets of kobalds erupted in fire and death as balls of multi-colored light rained down on them like artillery shells. Nero tried to spread out his senses to find out where they were coming from, but it was pointless as wherever the casters were, it wasn¡¯t anywhere near him. Regardless, at least from his vantage point near the front of the lines, he could see the spells target any area where the kobald¡¯s shields fell. Which in turn seemed to open up more holes in the shields. Which led to more spells mercilessly bombarding them. Nero stood alongside his wackos, having nothing to do but watch as the battle ended with the complete obliteration of their enemy. Neither he nor anybody else felt like cheering. It was a massacre. When the spells finally stopped falling, he heard Cathleen along with numerous other battle leaders call out, ¡°Forward! Sweep and eliminate any survivors!¡± Nero and the others did as they were told, striding forward to give mercy to any kobalds still among the living. The smell in the air of fried kobald was sickening, and the smoke hurt his eyes, but he still did it. ¡®This is the shitty part of adventuring¡­ but at least I¡¯m not in a conference room,¡¯ he told himself. The clean-up took longer than the actual battle, but eventually, they got it done. When Cathleen finally called a halt to their search, Nero was well and truly ready for bed. The emotional turmoil from going from excitement to boredom, to defiance, to victory, to confusion, and then to the acceptance of the grim reality of war was enough to numb his mind to the point of apathy. Luckily he recognized the signs and released his hold on his mage armor before he started staring at butterflies again. Or in this case, start seeing celebrities in the smoke clouds coming off the pyres of kobalds. The war-time version of cloud gazing wasn¡¯t something he wanted to indulge in. Before long, Nero found himself sitting on the ground with the wackos, looking every bit as drained as everyone else. He couldn¡¯t even muster up the energy for one of the many lectures he needed Nick to give him or listen to Cathleen¡¯s probable condemnation of his performance. All he felt like doing was sitting on his ass and sipping warm water from one of the canteens he¡¯d squirreled away in his personal space. ¡°My Lord, sorry to bother you¡­ but you¡¯re the Smiling Death, right?¡± a man¡¯s voice said, causing Nero to look up with confusion. Nero squinted his eyes as he was currently in the man¡¯s shadow, so it was a little hard to see. But, in front of him was a blood-soaked man who¡¯d obviously had a rough time of it. The man¡¯s shabby excuse for armor was in shreds and he was missing an entire pant leg. But, what Nero noticed most were his eyes. They were filled with an intensity that nearly made him flinch when he looked up at them. Nero, still a little befuddled from recent events replied, ¡°The ¡®what¡¯ now?¡± The man, standing tall in front of him repeated, ¡°The Smiling Death. The Little Lord. The Walker. You¡¯re him¡­ aren¡¯t you? As a penal conscript, me and the other don¡¯t have access to the identification functions on our links¡­ but we know a hero when we see one.¡± Nero, completely confused, replied, ¡°Um¡­ ok.¡± Whoever he was didn¡¯t seem offended, he just went on with what he had come over to say. ¡°A lot of us weren¡¯t happy about being forced to fight. Yeah, it was nice to get some serious time toward our sentences, but nobody wants to die for a few months of pay. But, seeing you out here fighting with us¡­ foiling the hells be damned plans of the nobles to sacrifice good and decent men and women¡­ Well, it was enough to remind us what it felt like to be part of Dorchester. We didn¡¯t want to bother you with a bunch of people coming over and thanking you when you¡¯re probably just as eager for a good meal and bed as we are¡­ but I and everyone else just wanted to say ¡®Thank you¡¯... and may all the gods above bless you. You¡¯re a true noble, and we¡¯re proud to have fought alongside you,¡± he finished awkwardly, obviously uncomfortable with the emotions he was holding back. Nero gulped to clear his throat before replying softly, ¡°No problem. You all saved a lot of lives today. You go back and tell them that if it weren¡¯t for them, our victory would have been hollow. So, thank you¡­ you and everyone else who bled for Dorchester here today.¡± The man¡¯s smile was uncomfortably white on his soot-colored face. ¡°Yes, my lord. I¡¯ll tell ¡®em. Thank you¡­ I mean¡­ Have a good rest, my lord,¡± he said, before shuffling off and rejoining the group he¡¯d come over to represent. Nero made eye contact with the group, widening his eyes at the look of respect on their faces. Subtly glancing around, he noticed that everywhere he looked, people were trying to stare at him without making it look like they were staring at him. The sense of everyone talking about him behind his back immediately made him emotionally recoil. He felt just like he did back in high school when he¡¯d found out that everyone knew about him shitting his pants at Dough Fleischman¡¯s birthday kegger over the weekend. The wackos sitting around him were watching in silence, each filled with pride at what they¡¯d accomplished. Their new lord had led them to a noble victory, reigniting the flame of humanity in the darkest of hearts and saving countless defenders of the city from a pointless sacrifice. This¡­ this was a good day. Their lord¡¯s voice broke them out of their thoughts. ¡°What did he mean by ¡®penal conscript¡¯? Are all these assholes criminals?¡± he whisper-shouted in surprise. Chapter 195 - Gathering the herd. Academian Quincy, Scholar Idrius, and the other evaluators all sat comfortably on the edge of the earthen roof, their feet hanging over the edge of the roof they were sitting on. They¡¯d chosen this spot for several reasons. It was close enough to the battle to keep watch over Lord Walker, while also out of the way enough that they weren¡¯t in danger of getting involved. All it took was a little flight spell, another spell or two to reinforce the roof for their peace of mind, a simple essence fading technique, and before anyone knew it they were completely ignored. In fact, considering how skilled they were, only five or six people in the entire city would be able to notice them. Even Lord Walker, with his prodigious abilities, hadn¡¯t noticed when they¡¯d vanished from his senses. Scholar Idrius¡¯ theory was that the young man was sufficiently distracted by the battle. However, Academian Quincy believed it was more likely that Lord Walker simply didn¡¯t pay enough attention to his surroundings. It was actually quite surprising how bad he was at situational sensing despite how talented he is at almost everything else. ¡®It probably has to do with how overly focused he tends to get. Possibly a natural weakness to balance his ability to concentrate on something to the exclusion of everything else?¡¯ he posited. Over their private communication link, Scholar Vaxas asked, ¡°Why is he so focused on the ¡®acid projection¡¯ spell? He knows other ones, I¡¯ve seen him cast them.¡± Scholar Idrius replied, ¡°Look closely at what he¡¯s doing. He¡¯s not just casting the spell, he¡¯s experimenting with it. You can see it in the effect of the spell, he¡¯s manipulating the spell form somehow.¡± As a more than competent spell researcher, Scholar Mortem added, ¡°He¡¯s free-form casting. Doing it with a tier one spell isn¡¯t all that difficult¡­ if he were 30 or 40 levels higher that is.¡± ¡°OK. But, why?¡± asked Scholar Vaxas. Shrugging as if he didn¡¯t care, Scholar Mortem replied, ¡°Who knows? Maybe he¡¯s bored. This isn¡¯t much of a battle, I¡¯d be bored too.¡± Several of the evaluators chuckled in agreement, as there was some truth to that. Even with the thousands of kobalds assaulting the lines, they could tell Dorchester¡¯s army didn¡¯t have a problem handling the vicious little lizards. Aside from a few concentrated charges, the kobalds mainly focused on drawing out the fight as long as possible. They didn¡¯t seem to mind trading the lives of their sub-classes for the opportunity to exhaust Dorchester¡¯s resources. Regardless, the larger concerns of the war weren¡¯t why they were here. They were here for Lord Walker. To observe him, to understand him, and to learn from him what they could. Ignoring the bigger picture, they watched as Lord Walker continued to fiddle with the ¡®acid projection¡¯ spell until it somehow mutated into a liquid flame emitter. It was fascinating to see the spell variations progress throughout his testing. Although, it would have been a lot more impressive if they didn¡¯t know how he was doing it. But, alas, they did. With an undercurrent of jealousy in her voice, Scholar Yalbarrow said, ¡°It¡¯s almost insulting how easily he¡¯s able to see and manipulate essence flows like that. I also think that he somehow has an instinctual understanding of how the spell forms codify and integrate essence.¡± Every single one of them nodded in agreement with her. After a few seconds of watching Lord Walker light his entire section of the battlefield on fire, Scholar Idrius replied, ¡°Even taking his gifts into consideration, what he¡¯s doing is still rather awe-inspiring.¡± Once again, everyone nodded in agreement, before offering their own perspectives on Lord Walker¡¯s actions. While the rest of them debated whether or not Lord Walker¡¯s talents were the results of his gifts, or simply the manifestation of his talent, Academian Quincy¡¯s concentration was locked on Lord Walker¡¯s attempts at spell creation. He, more than any of them, knew what it took to do what the young man was doing. Even with being able to ¡®see¡¯ essence, Lord Walker SHOULDN¡¯T be able to do what he was doing. He¡¯d known the young man was talented, monstrous even, but seeing it in person was enough to make him question everything he thought he knew about magic. Before long, Lord Walker seemed to settle on a variation that included a spell loop with a charge/emission profile. It was relatively simple, low-cost, and extremely effective at controlling the pace of the battle. Considering how little the young man knew about magic, it was an impressive bit of spellcasting. Over the command line for Lord Walker and his adherents, they heard the order for Lord Walker and his adherents to reposition. As one, they stood up and began looking for the best way to slip through the soldiers so they could follow. But, something in the ether caused Academian Quincy to pause. ¡°Everyone be quiet for a second. Calm your emotions and let me concentrate,¡± he said, causing the evaluators all to stop talking and begin muting their presences along the connection. Narrowing his eyes, he spread out his senses, trying to locate and determine what had changed. No one said a word, as they could all ¡®feel¡¯ how serious he was over their connection. After a minute of silence, Scholar Idrius hesitantly asked, ¡°What do you sense?¡± Academian Quincy frowned, and replied quickly, ¡°None of you feel that?¡± Scholar Mortem shared looks of confusion with the others before asking, ¡°Feel what? Describe what you¡¯re sensing.¡± Before Academian Quincy could put into words what he was feeling, Scholar Idrius¡¯ voice interrupted his train of thought. ¡°Look! Lord Walker isn¡¯t leaving. He¡¯s hiding his troops among the penal forces being brought in. Anyone recognize what the army is doing?¡± she asked. None of them had a history of military service, despite their thousands of years of shared life experience. However, they did have enough common sense to recognize when something out of the ordinary was going on. For some unknown reason, the military was moving their troops out, and replacing them with penal units. Relief forces were being brought in, and secondary lines were being prepared. They didn¡¯t know what it meant, but they all could tell that it meant something. ¡°Why is he fighting alongside the criminals? He¡¯s supposed to heading to another section of the line, isn¡¯t he? You all heard the same order I did, right?¡± asked Scholar Yarborrow. Snorting in amusement, Scholar Mortem replied, ¡°I don¡¯t think the Walker particularly cares about orders. He probably senses the excitement in the ether, same as Quincy.¡± Academian Quincy¡¯s frown turned into a grimace. He knew that wasn¡¯t it. While he recognized that the ether was projecting a sense of an upcoming large-scale battle, it was something else in the ether that was making the hairs on the back of his neck stand up. He was no expert, but he felt like fate was being stretched¡­ or maybe changed. It was a feeling that he couldn¡¯t describe, and one he wasn¡¯t sure he ever felt before. As he stood alongside his fellow evaluators in silence, they all waited to see what would happen. When soldiers climbed up to take ranged positions on the roof, they moved back to allow the archers to take their place. While under the essence fading technique, they were still all but invisible to the low-level men and women of Dorchester. Luckily, despite having to reposition, they were able to maintain a good line of sight on Lord Walker and the battle lines. They weren¡¯t in danger of missing anything. It soon became clear that the army was going to sacrifice a few hundred penal soldiers to lure the kobalds into a trap. They even brought in the cavalry to entice the kobalds into over-committing. Whoever was in command must really want the kobalds to over-commit. Unauthorized use: this story is on Amazon without permission from the author. Report any sightings. Academian Quincy watched dispassionately as the kobalds overran the line, and a singular unit of cavalry was left to die. While he didn¡¯t like it, he understood it. Sacrifices were part of war, and death was an acceptable outcome as long as it led to victory. Then, he heard it. Somehow it was loud enough to echo through the ether. He heard Lord Walker¡¯s teenage voice roar with an intensity that defied his age. ¡°What the fuck are you assholes doing! Are you just going to leave them to die you fucking cowards!¡± ¡ª-- The wackos around Nero first looked surprised at his outburst, before slowly becoming confused. Did he not know they were penal units? If he didn¡¯t, then why the speech? Nick, once again serving as a cultural translator, looked over at Nero and smirked. ¡°Yes, Nero. They are criminals. Penal conscripts are men and women who are tasked with fighting in return for time toward their sentence. With having access to the battle-hub¡¯s command line, you can identify them, their criminal history, the unit their serving under, and their primary skill or occupation. You really should take advantage of the tools you have at your disposal,¡± he said with a bit of a chiding tone. Nero brushed off the critique as if he hadn¡¯t even heard it. Instead, he focused on the implications of what he¡¯d just learned. He couldn¡¯t believe that he had once again underestimated the dark side of this gentle utopia. ¡®These people are being forced to die for their country,¡¯ he realized. Despite being all but ready for bed after the fighting, Nero hopped to his feet on shaky legs. The smoke filled backdrop and stench of burning kobalds weren¡¯t enough to stop him. As a longtime keyboard warrior of middling to no renown, he couldn¡¯t just let this pass without offering his totally justified and not-at-all ignorant opinion on the subject. ¡°This is outrageous! Dorchester practices slavery! How can you all just accept that without doing anything about it?¡± he nearly shouted. Used to his antics, Nick stayed seated, barely acknowledging Nero¡¯s animated arm waving. ¡°It¡¯s a perfectly logical way for criminals to pay their debt to society. Calling it slavery is woefully innacurate. They aren¡¯t being ¡®forced¡¯ to fight. Every one of them is here by choice,¡± he said calmly. Nero, seeing as how everyone around him was looking up at him with interest, as if they were just waiting to see what he¡¯d say next, replied, ¡°I¡¯ll be looking into this, Nick. If I find out that these people are being abused I¡¯ll¡­ Well, I¡¯m not sure I¡¯ll do¡­ but it will be something. You can count on it!¡± Unfazed, Nick replied, ¡°Understood, Nero. You do that.¡± One of the wackos, possibly named Oscar or Ozzy, asked, ¡°My lord, if you didn¡¯t know they were criminals, then why did you give them that speech about their civic duty?¡± Nero¡¯s face blanked, his eyes blinking a few times as if his brain was overheating. He tried to remember what he¡¯d said. It had something to do with fighting for the ¡®good and decent¡¯ men and women of Dorchester or something, along with some noble bashing and such. He really hadn¡¯t been paying too much attention to the specific wording, as he was more interested in the inspirational aspect of his rabble rousing. ¡°That¡¯s¡­ I¡­ Look, I just thought they were human beings that wouldn¡¯t stand for the blatant evil they were witnessing. Everyone at their core is nothing more than a human being just trying to survive this crazy world. When faced with standing by and watching people die, I knew they wouldn¡¯t stand for it,¡± he bullshitted, trying to regain his conversational footing. ¡°Whether they are press ganged criminals serving as cannon fodder for the nobles, simple soldiers fighting for their paychecks, or even commoners who signed up to defend their city, everyone out here is here for one reason¡­ The defense of Dorchester. That alone is enough for me to respect them,¡± he grandly declared. Hoping that what he just said made sense, he looked over at Nick and asked, ¡°Going back to my question, How are all these people criminals? And what are they doing out here?¡± Appearing out of nowhere, Academian Quincy¡¯s voice nearly made Nero¡¯s heart stop in surprise. ¡°They are here to earn time off from their sentence. Oglivarch doesn¡¯t practice slavery. At worst, you could consider it court appointed indentured servitude,¡± he said calmly. Spinning around, Nero confusedly shouted, ¡°Where the fuck did you just come from. Have you been standing there the whole time? How the hell do people just keep appearing out of nowhere on me?¡± While everyone around him was in various levels of amusement at his seemingly one-man-show, Scholar Idrius and a few others had to cough into their hand to hide their giggling. With a gentle smile on his face, Academian Quincy replied, ¡°Yes, We¡¯ve been here watching the entire time. I have to say, that was an amazing thing you did. Inspiring so many people to forsake their orders and fight to save those people was like nothing I¡¯d ever seen. It was nearly enough for us to break the law and join you. Thankfully, it didn¡¯t come to that.¡± Nero almost blushed. Something about the way Academian Quincy said what he said reminded him how old the man probably was. With his pristine battle robes filled with glowing runic edging, he looked every bit the wizened wizard despite his youthful appearance. Rubbing the back of his neck, Nero said, ¡°Yeah, well¡­ Just doing what was right and all that. Let¡¯s not make a thing out of it.¡± Trying to change the subject, he asked, ¡°Can you explain the whole criminals being out here thing? I¡¯m still having trouble not seeing how that isn¡¯t totally evil and worthy of a good uprsing or two.¡± Luckily, everyone seemed to assume Nero wasn¡¯t serious and they all started chuckling at his ¡®joke¡¯. Nick stood up to join the conversation. ¡°Nero, the criminal justice system here is based on equivalent punishment. If a person breaks the law, he or she has to pay back their debt to society. A simple thing like public intoxication can earn a month or two of community service. While something more serious like attempted murder or smuggling can earn them decades of harsh work and hardship. I believe we covered this when you brought that assassin to the Tower of Law.¡± Nero was just about to respond when a man walked up as if he were summoned, ¡°Excuse the interruption, my lord. I just wanted to say that what you just did was awesome. I¡¯ve never felt anything like it.¡± Turning to the newcomer, Nero was surprised to see Mike the assassin standing their with a stupid look on his face. Not having expected to ever see him again, Nero¡¯s jaw dropped as he shouted, ¡°You¡¯re here too! What the fuck is happening right now?¡± Caught off guard by Nero¡¯s reply, Mike replied, ¡°Um¡­ I was just serving my sentence. Originally, I was part of one of the units intended to search the mountains for kobalds. But that was before all this happened,¡± he said with a wave at the war torn surroundings. ¡°After most of my unit was killed, we ended bouncing between support units before ending up here.¡± Nero had no idea how to respond to that. Running his hand through his hair in frustration, Mike pressed on. ¡°Lord Walker, I spent enough time with you to see that your planning the destruction of the system or something else equally insane, but I¡¯m begging you to just let this one go. In this case, the system doesn¡¯t need your intervention. I may not be some scholar or social engineer, but I understand why and the other penal forces have been deployed out here. We made our choices and we have to live with them.¡± Once again, Nero was shaken at the absurdity of this world. Was he really being reassured by the man who¡¯d tried to kill him that he was alright with being forced into the army and thrown at the kobalds like a suicide bomber or death korps trooper? Adding fuel to the fire, one of the men who¡¯d been accompanying Mike stepped up. Nero could see the entire side of his head had some kind of implant shoved into it. ¡°We just came over to say that we¡¯re thankful about what you did. It wasn¡¯t right us all standing there and watching those people die. It feels good to make a difference I guess,¡± he said with an almost lobotomized look on his face. Gulping in terror at what he saw, nero shakily replied, ¡°No problem. I¡¯m proud of you all doing what¡¯s right. You deserve recognition for your service to Dorchester.¡± Internally, Nero was practically panicking. ¡°Did they implant mind control links into the poor bastard!?! Is there like some kind of slave class that I didn¡¯t know about here? Holy shit did my personal story just get dark,¡¯ he thought to himself. Mike, apparently not done with what he¡¯d come over here for, awkwardly added, ¡°Anyway, my lord. I just wanted to say thank you, and offer my sword to you as a sworn blade if you¡¯ll have me.¡± Nero instinctually turned to Nick and Academian Quincy with a look that demanded one of them to start explaining what was going on. While Nick began chuckling, Academian Quincy said, ¡°As a personal house outside of Dorchester¡¯s hierarchy, you can accept a personal vow of servitude. He¡¯s not asking to be an adherent. He¡¯s asking to offer his life to you and to offer a oath to that effect. It would normally require you to go to the Tower of Law and request the services of a binder. But, if you¡¯d like, I know the spell-forms well enough to do them.¡± Nero, not liking where this was going was about to object when the guy with the hardware in his head added, ¡°I¡¯ll offer my sword to you too, my lord. That is, if you¡¯ll have me.¡± Sputtering, Nero replied, ¡°Everyone just calm the fuck down for a second. Just please¡­ stop talking for a second.¡± Feeling completely off center, Nero took a step back and tried to calm down. Closing his eyes, he steadied his breath and attempted to slow his heart rate. He could feel it pounding in his chest like a jack hammer. ¡®Since I¡¯ve shown up in this world, I¡¯ve been cursing more and generally been in a near constant state of shock. Everything is just so god damn insane, and it doesn¡¯t seem to be getting any better. No matter how much I learn, I am still getting caught off guard by every interaction I have with these nut jobs. Binders? Penal units? Sword blades? Somebody needs to sit my ass down and give me a Dorchester for Dummies talk before I really start loosing it,¡¯ he complained. ¡°Let¡¯s start at the beginning. Do you -¡± he started asking before he was interrupted. Cathleen¡¯s harsh voice cut through his question, ¡°Wackos form up on me!¡± Turning to see what was going on, he saw Cathleen standing there about 10 or 15 ft away looking all kinds of pissed. Her normally stoic face was contorted into a mask of fury. Rushing over, he pushed past the assembling wackos and asked, ¡°What¡¯s wrong? Are you alright?¡± Cathleen looked over at him with a glare and replied, ¡°I¡¯ve just been arguing with those morons over at command. They are insisting that we vacate the field while the rest of the army pushes forward. Your actions seem to have caused their plans to fail, and they want us out of here. I politely told them that you and your forces are under contract with the council of leadership, and they have no authority over you. I don¡¯t know what they are planning, but I¡¯m sure it¡¯s some complicated political nonesense that I refuse to let happen. The final push toward the kobald¡¯s exit tunnel is coming, and I doubt you plan to miss it.¡± Nero assumed she must have been talking with command over the battle-hub and he¡¯d never been more glad to have been ignoring his responsibilities. This was exactly why he¡¯d been trying to delegate. He had more than enough headaches without having to deal with politicians masquerading as soldiers. Figuring this was a perfect opportunity to put off what would likely be another complicated and confusing explanation of local laws and social structures that made less than no sense, he replied, ¡°OK. So, what¡¯s the plan. I put you in charge, so it¡¯s your call.¡± Cathleen¡¯s clenched jaw loosened up, and she returned to her stoic self. ¡°We join with whoevers closest. That would be the penal soldiers here. They have orders to assault the kobalds now that their formations have collapsed. We push hard and wipe out whatever is in front of us. I say we clear out the lizards and expose the commander running this battle as the weak willed southerner he is.¡± Nero looked around to see the excited faces of his wackos, along with amused evaluators and several criminals who were apparently trying to swear their undying loyalty to him. They all seemed on board with what she was saying¡­ even eager for it. Taking another deep breath to try and clear his mind, he took a moment to consider his options before saying, ¡®Fuck it¡¯ and deciding to wing it. ¡°Alright, whoever wants to come along, I guess you should just talk to Cathleen. We¡¯ll deal with the whole ¡®sworn sword¡¯ thing later. While ¡®binding¡¯ sounds awful, and I think conscripted soldiers are totally unethical, I¡¯ll try and reserve judgment before I hear an actual explanation. If you all want to keep going, I¡¯m down to see where this takes us. As for the evaluators, I¡¯m sure you¡¯ll keep doing nothing and pretending to be helpful. So, I¡¯ll just keep ignoring you until you become relevant again,¡± he said firmly. Turning back to Cathleen, he said, ¡°OK. It¡¯s your show, we¡¯ll follow your lead.¡± In return, Nero received the patented bloodthirsty warrior-woman grin he¡¯d been missing since his time with her in the training ring. ¡®Well, I¡¯m sure this is just going to turn out great,¡¯ he thought wryly. Chapter 196 - Whos in charge here? Standing still in the middle of the turmoil going on all around him, Harold Angleton stared blankly up at the smoke-filled sky. Despite the battle hub facilitating a direct connection with his mind, the voices of command and his sergeants felt far away. He knew he needed to deal with them, but he just wasn¡¯t up to it at the moment. He was a captain in the army of Dorchester, a respected and decorated soldier who¡¯d served with both honor and distinction for over 4 decades. He followed the code and performed his duties without question. Yet, he felt like he¡¯d crossed some threshold, and was now no longer the same man he was when he woke up this morning. Was he even still a captain after what happened? Was the emotional death he¡¯d felt enough to absolve him of his oath? Thoughts and concerns were assaulting his mind like hammers, and he felt unable to move past them. He knew there were things he needed to do, but he just couldn¡¯t seem to get started. He needed to find the mount he¡¯d been issued. Or at the very least, confirm its death. He needed to reform what was left of the elites. Then, collect the bodies of those he¡¯d lost. He needed to contact Command for new orders. The elites would need reassignment. He needed to find out if the captains and their units had truly been ordered to retreat¡­ to leave him and his men to die. He needed¡­ he didn¡¯t know what he needed¡­ All around him, he heard the sound of laughing. The penal troops were celebrating still being alive. The ether was filled with a sense of kinship and camaraderie that was conflicting harshly with his center. As joyful as the atmosphere was, his center felt like it was in despair. The sense of euphoria from leveling had tapered off, and he was now left with an overwhelming sense of emptiness. Opening his identity, he confirmed that he was now level 53. With a small exertion of will, he added his new star into the pillar he¡¯d chosen at level 50¡­ ¡®healing¡¯. He barely felt the change in his center. Although there was a sense that his healing would be faster, and his spells dealing with restoration would be more efficient, but that was all. It would take more than a few star infusions before he gained a new ability. Yet, that was just a matter of time¡­ Time¡­ he probably had plenty of it. He was only 71. Being level 53 at his age meant he was progressing rapidly... almost too rapidly. It would be centuries before he¡¯d start suffering from age creep. Had someone asked him yesterday, he¡¯d been able to tell him exactly how he planned to spend all that time. But now, he wasn¡¯t so sure. Could he actually serve an army that didn¡¯t live up to the code its officers had sworn to uphold? Was it all a lie? Feeling overwhelmed by the reality of what had happened, he started to feel dizzy. Finally tearing his eyes away from the sky, he looked around for a place to sit down. He did his best to ignore the penal soldiers. They were smiling, congratulating each other, reveling in their victory. It was a sight he¡¯d never expected to see. These were the dregs of humanity, or at the very least, Dorchester¡¯s most shameful citizens. They were supposed to be miserable. His armor felt heavier than usual as his wearied steps dragged him to a half-broken mud wall. He didn¡¯t even consider whether or not it would hold him when he collapsed down on it. In the back of his mind, he still heard the voices demanding his attention. His elites and the commanders needed his attention. But, he couldn¡¯t bring himself to care. There was just too much on his mind, and he simply wasn¡¯t ready to deal with them. To his left, he heard a loud emphatic voice declare, ¡°He is nothing like those arrogant wastes of essence! I can tell you from personal experience that he is like no noble you¡¯ve ever seen. He¡¯s crafty like them, I¡¯ll give you that. But, he is also the first to lay his life on the line for his companions. He¡¯s true to his words and fearless in the face of danger. I¡¯ll be the first to admit, he¡¯s also more than a little crazy. But then again, he¡¯d have to be to live through all that he has. He¡¯s a hells be damned legend in the making! You saw it for yourself! Tell me honestly, didn¡¯t you feel the world tremble when he led us out there?¡± Seeing someone so filled with conviction stood out in stark relief against the backdrop of celebration going on all around him. Wondering who the man was, Angleton reached out through his link to the battle hub and requested identification. Michael Harring - Penal Convict #428441 Age 103 Lvl. 26 Pillars: Cutting (Voluntarily Reported) Primary Occupation: Hunter (Dorchester) Time left to serve: 967 years. Crime: *Redacted* (use command override to view) Assignment: Army Reserve Unit S&C2316 (use command override to view history) At first glance, Angleton wasn¡¯t impressed. The man seemed like a typical middle-class citizen who had run afoul of the laws of society. However, it was odd to see his crime being listed as *Redacted*. It barely took a thought to unseal the record. Widening his eyes in shock, he couldn¡¯t believe what he was seeing. This man had a history with Lord Walker. He was actually one of the hunters who¡¯d tried to assassinate the young lord out in the wilds. The fact that the man was still alive was interesting enough to compel him to read the entire file. ¡®Lord Walker himself requested the man¡¯s rehabilitation. Interesting indeed,¡¯ he thought. While Angleton was reviewing the man¡¯s testimony against Sergeant Blackwood¡¯s estranged father, he tried to listen in on what the penal convicts were discussing. At first, he thought they were talking about the battle, but quickly found that he was mistaken. What he heard was enough to cause him to close the file and pay closer attention. Somehow, this Michael Harring was being convinced to represent them in joining House Walker as Lord Walker¡¯s personal servants. From what he could tell, it sounded like they were discussing life oaths¡­ actual LIFE OATHS. Why were they willing to give up their chance to rejoin society to serve a noble who¡¯d become a unique, one who¡¯d probably already left Dorchester? Suddenly, the memory of the small man leading the charge to save him and his elites became much clearer. Now that he thought about it, he could tell that it had been Lord Walker himself who¡¯d led the penal soldiers. The young lord must have disobeyed orders and convinced these men and women to as well. He had to admit that it truly did sound like something out of a legend. It also meant that somewhere nearby, Lord Walker was here¡­ fighting for a city he didn¡¯t need to¡­ refusing to let even penal soldiers die undefended¡­ embodying the ideals that his superiors had abandoned. Surging to his feet, he brought the connections he had with his sergeants forward in his mind. With his voice full of confidence and purpose, he ordered, ¡°Sergeants! Round up whoever is still on their feet. We¡¯ll collect our dead and then discuss our next steps. I for one am incensed at what happened. Together, we¡¯ll get our answers. Rest assured, this outrage will not be forgotten, nor will it be forgiven! We will have our vengeance, either in the halls of our order, the Tower of Law, or the sands of the Coliseum. I swear it!¡± ¡ª-- Nero stood off to the side and watched as events began spiraling out of control. Considering how often it had happened since he¡¯d arrived in Dorchester, he wasn¡¯t all that surprised. At least he¡¯d learned how to expertly apply the ¡®pretend it¡¯s on purpose and roll with it¡¯ plan, so he was kind of looking forward to seeing how it would all turn out. Cathleen had told him that she used his authority as a unique to break off from Command and act as an independent unit in the field. She had then warned him they were sending a squad to arrest them for interfering in a military action. Before he had been able to formulate a response, Academian Quincy went off on an impressive rant and contacted Command himself. Not two minutes later, the man reported that it was handled and Cathleen could proceed however she wanted. If you discover this tale on Amazon, be aware that it has been stolen. Please report the violation. Nero hadn¡¯t said a single word. The number of criminals¡­ or penal soldiers¡­ around them had grown until Nero couldn¡¯t tell how many there actually were. Between the wackos, the evaluators, and the cri¡­ penal soldiers¡­ Nero was surrounded. When the ¡°penal soldiers¡± commanding sergeants arrived to break up the growing formation and retrieve their ¡°soldiers¡±, Cathleen, Quincy, and Mike the assassin all threw hissy fits. Mike claimed that his service had been accepted under the auspices of House Walker, along with everyone else who wanted to come along. Cathleen declared that her forces were acting under the orders of a unique, and Command had no authority to interfere. Meanwhile, Academian Quincy stood tall with his glowing battle robes and glared at the sergeants while explaining in detail the penalties and repercussions for interfering with an authorized quest from the council of leadership. Once again, Nero did nothing but stand there and grin. It wasn¡¯t until he got fed up with not being able to see anything that he finally found out what was actually going on. Using his trusty pillar spell, he rose up into the air and took a look around. He saw small clumps of people in rag-tag armor, every one of them looking extremely happy about something. He watched in confusion as the penal soldiers laughed and patted each other on the back. His wackos were moving among them, herding them into groups and organizing Cathleen¡¯s forces. Further away, he saw the rest of the army rushing around like ants after their hill had been destroyed. The battle line they¡¯d been fighting over was no more, and the entirety of the human forces were pushing up the hill in a united front. He could see the kobalds falling back, any semblance of their formations having been abandoned in place of their new policy of screaming and running away. Cathleen didn¡¯t seem to want to miss the party, and he watched in awe as the surrounding ¡°soldiers¡± began forming up under the surprisingly competent command of his wackos. He knew the woman was probably using the battle hub, abusing his authority to create new unit designations or something, but it was still impressive enough to leave him feeling forgotten about. Things looked like they were coming together quite well until he saw a group of 30 or 40 riders approaching at a run¡­ or maybe a canter¡­ either way, it was faster than a man could move on his own. Dropping down from his pillar, Nero quickly tried pushing through the crowd to find Cathleen. Suddenly stopping, he face-palmed at his stupidity and just contacted her through the link. ¡°We¡¯ve got riders incoming. I¡¯m assuming they¡¯re from command,¡± he said, not bothering with small talk. Cathleen replied quickly, ¡°Noted. I¡¯ll handle it, my lord.¡± Nero frowned at the curt reply before making his way over to where she was preparing to meet them. On the way, he had to dodge the criminals and wackos who wanted to congratulate him on his ¡°victory¡± and pledge their undying loyalty to him. It was enough to make him feel like a politician trying to move through a fundraiser while having to take a piss. While it was nice to be appreciated, and having more followers¡­ even ones with a record¡­ was nice, he really didn¡¯t have time to deal with them at the moment. By the time he got to Cathleen, he was surprised to see her staring up at Captain Freaking Angleton. ¡®What in hell is HE doing here?¡¯ he wondered in absolute confusion. Around the captain was Sergeant Blackwood, along with other sergeants and elites, most of whom he recognized. Even Specialist Howard was there. However, the man¡¯s battle robes were so pristine Nero assumed he hadn¡¯t been fighting with the rest of them. Almost in unison, everyone turned to look at him with faces full of respect and adoration. Well, not everyone. Cathleen and Angleton looked like typically emotionally stunted selves. ¡°Lord Walker, it¡¯s good to see you¡¯re well. I personally thank you for my life and the lives of the men and women under my command. If it weren¡¯t for your heroic actions, we¡¯d have died in shame under the machinations of the politicians running this war. Their dishonorable actions have earned them a formal complaint which I personally sent to the grandmaster of our order. Until such time as my complaint is heard before the tribunals of the Knights of Dorchester, my forces and I are yours to command,¡± said Captain Angleton, his presence looming over everyone around him. Nero, not knowing what to say after all that confusing nonsense, just replied, ¡°Battle Leader Averett will be leading my forces. She¡¯ll coordinate with you on how to best use the elites.¡± The captain offered a quick bow before returning to his conversation with Cathleen. Meanwhile, Nero could feel the rest of the elites, and several of their horses, continually sneaking peeks at him. Behind him, a voice asked, ¡°I¡¯m assuming you have questions?¡± Nero was barely able to stop himself from jumping out of his boots. Turning around, he glared up at a grinning Academian Quincy and decided he wasn¡¯t going to give the bastard the satisfaction of seeing him lose his shit again. He¡¯d noticed that it was much easier to keep his cool when he was doing it out of spite Maintaining his placid demeanor, he locked eyes with the man and replied, ¡°Yes. I do have a few topics that I would like explained to me if you don¡¯t mind.¡± Academian Quincy¡¯s grin transitioned into an easy smile, seamlessly copying Nero¡¯s pretense of unflappability. ¡°Ask away, my lord. I¡¯ll do my utmost to cover them to your satisfaction.¡± Annoyed at the man¡¯s ability to change his entire persona at the drop of a hat, Nero had trouble keeping his tone light. But, he still tried to appear as ¡®in control of the situation¡¯ as he could. ¡°First, Can you explain to me how all these people with criminal records are here? You mentioned that slavery wasn¡¯t practiced in Oglivarch, but I¡¯m struggling to understand how you can say that when these poor bastards are being forced to fight against their will. Or better yet, can you explain what a penal conscript IS?¡± he asked, trying and failing to keep his outrage hidden. Academian Quincy pretended not to notice Nero¡¯s anger. ¡°As I said before, they aren¡¯t being forced to fight. They are simply given the option of earning increased time off their sentence by serving in combat zones. All citizens who¡¯ve been convicted of a crime are required to earn back their freedom by completing tasks for the betterment of the community,¡± he said calmly. Putting his arm around Nero¡¯s shoulder, he gestured off at a group of criminals and continued, ¡°We¡¯re lucky enough to be able to take advantage of current circumstances to help you understand. Connect with the battle hub through your link and request identification on one of those penal conscripts over there.¡± Nero maintained his frown but still did as he was told. The moment he did, he was surprised to get a mental image of an identification card appearing next to the woman he was staring at. Brandice Milkurny - Penal Convict #376251 Age 34 Lvl. 16 Pillars: (Not Reported) Primary Occupation: Caravan Guard Trainee(Dorchester) Time left to serve: 12 years. Crime: Assault, Failure to Comply Assignment: Army Reserve Unit S&C1286 (use command override to view history) Nero read through the card quickly, jumping to several conclusions as usual. ¡°What the hell does failure to comply mean?¡± he demanded. Academian Quincy had no trouble figuring out who Nero had identified. ¡°Ah, Ms. Milkurney I presume. As you can tell by her identification, she was convicted of assault. While I can¡¯t speak to specifics, I can make a few guesses as to what happened. Most likely, she was out in public, got in an argument with someone, decided that she wasn¡¯t willing to wait for a duel, or was denied one, and then proceeded to fight them in the streets. When the guard arrived, she probably decided that she wasn¡¯t willing to stand down, and they had to pull her off whoever she was fighting. That would explain the charge for failing to comply. She¡¯s probably a hot-headed young woman who enjoys fighting more than thinking. I¡¯m guessing she was probably given a sentence of 20 years, but considering her skillset, who knows how long ago she began serving it,¡± he said. Nero listened closely, and he could admit that the woman in question did in fact look like the story might fit. But that didn¡¯t explain what she was doing out here. Academian Quincy didn¡¯t wait for Nero to speak, he just continued on with his lecture. ¡°Every city in Oglivarch has a variation of the Penal Service System. When a citizen breaks the law, whether it¡¯s in the form of unauthorized physical violence like Ms. Milkurney over there, or more cerebral crimes like blackmail, abuse of power, or trade violations, everyone who¡¯s convicted is given a chance to earn back their freedom. The Though-hub is used to track them, and their identification keeps them monitored for the safety of those around them. As penal conscripts, they serve in whatever fashion they choose¡­ but serve they must in order to pay back what they owe to the social systems of whatever city they live in. Some choose to act as laborers and servants, others as city hunters and guards. Their actions are reviewed based on their behavior, usually weekly or monthly. If they continue to act in a manner that defies social convention and law, then they are punished accordingly,¡± he explained. Nero, feeling both impressed and a little wigged out by the systematic social slavery system, hesitantly asked, ¡°And what happens if they don¡¯t learn to go along with the system? What if they don¡¯t feel like being a good little Dorchesterian?¡± Having expected the question, Academian Quincy replied immediately, ¡°After being given a few chances, they''re reviewed by a tribunal for further punishment and social reconditioning. If that doesn¡¯t set them straight, then they are sent off to fight in the war, or simply executed for the safety of those around them.¡± Nero gulped uncomfortably, before asking, ¡°What does ¡®social reconditioning¡¯ entail?¡± ¡°Usually classes at the Center. Also, immersion programs that help foster a sense of loyalty to the city. You can think of it as targeted propaganda, to be honest. It¡¯s usually effective, and if it isn¡¯t, there are mind healers there to find out why,¡± he replied. Looking up at the academian in fear, Nero asked quietly, ¡°Mind healers?¡± Nodding, Academian Quincy replied, ¡°Sometimes people have mental issues that need to be resolved. Unreasonable tendencies toward aggression. Improper sexual urges. Emotional problems. All of these are screened for during a citizen''s early schooling, but sometimes things are missed.¡± Nero REALLY didn¡¯t like where this was going. ¡°And what happens if someone has one of these ¡®mental issues¡¯ that needs fixing?¡± he asked, his tone making it clear that he was more than a little worried about what he might find out. ¡°Nothing nefarious. The mind healers are usually able to help with the issue. However, there are cases where more drastic action needs to be taken,¡± replied Academian Quincy. He then pointed out someone with a link large enough to be considered a metal plate on their head. ¡°Like that man over there. Take a look at his identification and you¡¯ll understand.¡± Nero used the battle hub to pull up the man¡¯s identification card. Carl Yaksman - Penal Convict #326491 Age 76 Lvl. 22 Pillars: Fury (Forced Compliance) Primary Occupation: Dueler Trainee(Dorchester) Time left to serve: 2112 years. Crime: Multiple Murders, Aggravated Assaults, Failure to Comply Cognitive Impairment Harness: Aggression monitor and stabilizer Assignment: Army Reserve Unit S&C1286 (use command override to view history) Nero paled at what he was seeing. The man standing over there, grinning from ear to ear and looking excited to be returning to battle, was a MURDERER. Even worse, Nero recognized him as one of the people who¡¯d been standing next to Mike the assassin when he¡¯d asked to join House Walker. How many people did the man have to kill to get a 2112-year sentence and a monitoring device implanted in his brain box? ¡®Well, at least the powers that be don¡¯t go straight to capital punishment. That ought to make a few people in the religious district happy¡­ probably. Wait, do religious people here even care about that? I don¡¯t even know what the hot-button issues are in this place. And I don¡¯t even know on whose behalf I¡¯m feeling offended,¡¯ he joked with himself, trying and failing to put a positive spin on it. Chapter 197 - Various demonstrations of mental inferiority The local chapter of the Knights of Oglivarch was created during the founding of Dorchester. Since its inception, they have served as the backbone of Dorchester¡¯s military arm. Even when the Dorchens rebelled against the crown, the knights took up arms in defense of the citizenry. While the Populators and Dorchen¡¯s forces fought for control of the city, it was the knights who protected the people. And it had cost them greatly. In the aftermath of the rebellion, their keep lay in ruins and their numbers were decimated. But, their honor and integrity were rewarded. During the rebuilding, the crown itself declared that only the knights were worthy to lead Dorchester¡¯s forces. As a reward, after the religions were separated from the power structure and moved to the religious district, the knights were given the former Church of Serine as their base of operations. Located within sight of the City-lord¡¯s keep, the Bastion of Honor stood as a reminder to the politicians of their responsibilities. For over 2000 years, within the Bastion they have trained and supplied the officers for Dorchester¡¯s forces. In all that time, their code and values remained unchanged since the city¡¯s birth. In Dorchester, it was universally understood that the knights were the ultimate representation of all that was good and honorable in the bodies, minds, and souls of humanity. They were the bulwark, the lance, and the spirit that defended the people from all that was wicked and unjust. Or, at least that¡¯s what he had believed. Now, Grandmaster Jonas Lancel wasn¡¯t so sure. Standing at ease on the balcony overlooking the training courtyard, his emotionless face was so chiseled it looked carved from stone. While what he¡¯d heard was concerning, his uncompromising green eyes still held a depth of will that could freeze even the strongest of knights in place. Between his dominating presence and his six-foot-nine height, he made whatever room he was in feel small. And despite his presence in the ether remaining calm, the advisory commanders all held their breath, not wanting to disturb the grandmaster¡¯s contemplations. Without turning around, Grandmaster Lancel asked in a whisper loud enough to shake the room, ¡°Have you verified the captain¡¯s claims?¡± The advisory commanders all exchanged looks, silently begging one another to take the lead and answer the grandmaster¡¯s question. Sighing in defeat, the weakest among them stepped forward and replied, ¡°The moment the formal accusation was reported, it was automatically sent up the chain of command and reported to the disciplinary board. I¡­ We¡­ haven¡¯t had a chance to investigate yet. But, records are already being collected, and the Tower of Law has been alerted to monitor our response.¡± Still not bothering to turn around and address the advisory captains directly, the grandmaster replied, ¡°I see.¡± The silence stretched, and advisory commanders began to fidget uncomfortably as the grandmaster¡¯s presence weighed down on them. Right before they cracked, the grandmaster¡¯s calm voice continued. ¡°We as an order are responsible for leading the entirety of Dorchester¡¯s military forces. Every officer, from the lowest captain to the general at the head of command is one of ours. During their service, our knights give up their claims to their houses and forego politics for a life of duty and honor. It is the cornerstone of our order that we remain separate from the hierarchical games of power. OUR games are played on the field of battle. OUR forces remain untainted by concerns that would conflict with our purpose¡­¡± Once again, the grandmaster fell silent, letting the advisory commanders ponder his words and where he might be going with them. Not knowing what to say, they stayed silent and waited to see if he was done speaking. Suddenly spinning around, the grandmaster¡¯s presence grew as he shouted, ¡°WE ARE NOT POLITICIANS!¡± Every commander in the room flinched and shrank in the face of the grandmaster¡¯s fury. Striding toward them like he was going to physically chastise them, the grandmaster approached them and¡­ glared. His voice was hard as stone, and his eyes were burning with inner fire as he shouted, ¡°There is a REASON that the only interaction our order has with the nobility is through the general WE appoint to lead our troops. Necessity might require more, but the general is the ONLY one who should be considering the ramifications of politics.¡± Locking eyes with each of the advisory commanders, he stared them down until they couldn¡¯t meet his gaze. ¡°I want a comprehensive review of every one of our policies and standards. Start with the recruitment authorizations and continue until you¡¯ve examined our placement protocols. If you find ANY evidence of impropriety or even a HINT of dishonorable practices, then I expect you to report them immediately. Determine the veracity of the captain¡¯s claims, and let NO ONE in the chain of command deter you. Now, go, and know that I¡­ WILL.. BE¡­ WATCHING!¡± The grandmaster watched dispassionately as the advisory commanders fled the room. Reigning in his anger, he returned to the balcony to stare out at the training courtyard once again. His thoughts continued to race as he contemplated how his grandfather might have handled the situation. He was a seventh-generation knight, one who¡¯d risen through the ranks on his own merit. His family long ago left behind their titles to serve the people as knights. Duty and honor were in his blood, and he¡¯d be damned to all the hells below if he let the standards of his knights fall enough to allow for scheming and dishonor to become acceptable practices under his leadership. ¡®Perhaps with 300 years in this keep, I¡¯ve become too complacent. It might be time to step back onto the field and remind these young knights what it truly means to be a Knight of Oglivarch,¡¯ he thought grimly. ¡ª-- Nero took a moment to calm down and organize his thoughts. He knew he tended to jump to conclusions, and the past few months had made it clear that things had changed now that he was no longer hiding behind the anonymity of the internet. When he spouted off his knee-jerk reactions to what he was seeing, people were able to look him in the eye and embarrass the hell out of him. He¡¯d learned from his mistakes¡­ slowly¡­ but eventually he had learned. Trying to keep his voice steady, he looked back over to Academian Quincy and asked, ¡°So, let me get this straight. All across Oglivarch, there is a system, or series of systems, in place to punish criminals by forcing them to do mandatory community service. These systems give the criminals options to pay off their ¡®societal debt¡¯ in any manner they see fit, up to and including fighting in wars on behalf of the local government. For repeat offenders and career criminals, ¡®mind healers¡¯ can evaluate them, labeling them as a danger to society and installing mechanical-type magic link things in their heads to control their minds. And for those that are deemed too dangerous, execution isn¡¯t off the table when they aren¡¯t just shipped off to fight Oglivarch¡¯s enemies as cannon fodder. That about sum it up?¡± Academian Quincy seemed to be enjoying Nero¡¯s analysis. His smile had almost become a smirk as he listened to the young man¡¯s summary. ¡°In broad terms, yes. While your understanding is in no way comprehensive, nothing you said was actually wrong or inaccurate.¡± Nero nodded and replied, ¡°Right¡­ So, how haven¡¯t the powers that be been overthrown by rioting citizens demanding freedom from oppression? And how come this option wasn¡¯t given to the city lord¡¯s kids and Lord Blackwood?¡± For some reason, Academian Quincy seemed surprised at Nero¡¯s questions. ¡°Well, first of all, no one is rioting because the system is fair, just, and universally accepted as the best way to reform and monitor troubled citizens. And the answer to your second question should be obvious¡­ they were nobles.¡± Widening his eyes in surprise, Nero nearly shouted, ¡°What do you mean ¡®they were nobles¡¯!?! Are they too important to demean themselves with community service like the rest of us? How is that ¡®fair¡¯ and ¡®just¡¯?¡± This story originates from Royal Road. Ensure the author gets the support they deserve by reading it there. Snorting in amusement, Academian Quincy replied, ¡°Nero, the entire nobility structure is already basically community service. Houses are by their very nature set up to serve the people. When a noble breaks the law or does something that acts against the good of the people, they fall in status until they are either executed or lose their title and enter the courts as a common citizen. They are held to a higher standard, not a lesser one.¡± After taking a second to think about it, he couldn¡¯t disagree. Both Cosgrave heirs were punished harshly, exiled, and executed for their schemes. Lord Blackwood¡¯s house was financially gutted, and their head of house was executed as well. Even with a cover-up, Nero had been told that the Blackwoods would be losing their influence by falling lower on the ¡®ladder¡¯. Although to be honest, he still didn¡¯t fully understand how the ladder actually worked. Trying to shift gears, Nero said snidely, ¡°Fine. But what about the mind control and the whole swearing of their undying loyalty and stuff? How is that not slavery?¡± Academian Quincy rolled his eyes in amusement. ¡°Lord Walker, you are a noble. Granted, you¡¯re no longer part of Dorchester¡¯s hierarchy, but you are nonetheless a noble. The option of every citizen is to give up their independence to join a house as an adherent, a servant, or even a vassal in the case of nobility. By accepting them into your service, you¡¯re essentially taking on their social debt under the assumption that their service to you would count as their service to the community. Furthermore, as their pledge would be for life, it trumps any city penalty that could be given out. While you won¡¯t have the advantage of monitoring them through a Thought Hub, you will have the ability to execute them or punish them at your discretion without oversight. If you wish to call that slavery, then I cannot stop you.¡± Nero was about to remind the man that he hadn¡¯t explained the mind control, but Academian Quincy held up his hand to stop him. ¡°I understand your skepticism. All of this may seem strange to you based on your background. I can¡¯t imagine what type of system of punishment your former world had. However, you need to temper your instincts to automatically look at everything in a negative light. While being a cynic can work to your advantage, cynicism itself is a poor mechanism for true understanding,¡± said Academian Quincy. The numerous critiques Nero had been preparing suddenly felt very weak. The translation magics of the world implanted the academian¡¯s meaning directly into his head. When he heard ¡®cynic¡¯, he felt like it meant skepticism and not jumping to conclusions. While ¡®cynicism¡¯ sounded like immediately assuming the worst, regardless of the reality of the situation. Nero had to admit, if he were being charitable, he¡¯d probably be able to fill in the blanks of the situation in a way that sounded much more reasonable than what he¡¯d been assuming. Community service and active monitoring could be interpreted as active social reintegration and outreach. Even the ¡®mind control¡¯ might be better defined as magical emotional support and mental reconditioning. It didn¡¯t necessarily HAVE to be anything evil or uprising-worthy. After all, no matter how bad it sounded, it seemed to be working just fine for them. Before he could continue the debate, he heard Captain Angleton¡¯s voice ring out over the entire area. ¡°Everyone, begin preparations to move out. Stay in your assigned units, and watch out for each other. Squad leaders, pay attention to your orders and make sure your troops stay in formation and don¡¯t do anything stupid.¡± Academian Quincy patted Nero on his back and said, ¡°You should get going. Your battle-leader is waiting for you.¡± Nero bit back his reply as the Academian was already walking off to rejoin the other evaluators. Frowning in annoyance, he figured he might as well rejoin the wackos. Pushing through the troops, he made his way over to Cathleen¡¯s position. He found it more than a little ridiculous how many criminals had chosen to join up with their little assault force. With his short height, he couldn¡¯t even guess how many there now were. ¡®Where the hell are all these people coming from?¡¯ he wondered. When he got to the front of the formation, he found Cathleen talking with Mike the assassin, and Captain Angleton. They were surrounded by groups of people standing behind them like advisors or something. Walking up to them, he tried to inconspicuously listen in on their conversation. Cathleen seemed completely at ease and in charge. Looking up the captain, she ordered, ¡°You and your elites will take command of the groups that Hunter Harring will assign. I along with Lord Walker¡¯s Wackos will act as the center of our assault. Keep the edges tight, and make sure we don¡¯t outdistance the support and healers in the back. I¡¯ll maintain overall operational command, but as we¡¯re no longer being fed intelligence from Command, we¡¯ll have to adjust to whatever we find. Stay safe, and kill whoever gets in your way.¡± Nero nearly giggled at hearing Cathleen say ¡®Lord Walker¡¯s Wackos¡¯. But he managed to hide it behind his hand. Seeing the meeting break apart, he watched as everyone began organizing the troops into formations. He could feel the ether changing as the enthusiasm transitioned into cold hard determination. Cathleen caught his attention by saying, ¡°My lord. I would like you to stay near me, but far enough from the front of the formation that you¡¯ll be able to cast without interference from the melee. You and the ranged damage dealers will have to do what you can while whatever mages we have maintain our shields. We¡¯ll be moving too quickly to bring along any of the generators, so we¡¯ll have to rely on ourselves for our protection. Specialist Howard said you haven¡¯t learned group casting, so I doubt you¡¯ll be much help with the shield. But, do what you can.¡± Nero nodded numbly, trying to follow what she was saying. Once again it felt like there was so much implied information that he was forced to fill in the blanks. Offering her a thumbs up, he replied, ¡°No problem. Lead us to victory Battle-leader!¡± She merely nodded firmly with determination before turning away and shouting at the wackos to hurry up and get into formation. Sliding back behind the melee fighters, Nero took his place among the archers and casters. While the ones around him were wackos, he could see the other sections had penal soldiers in mismatched gear acting as mages. ¡®Looks like even people with training in magic aren¡¯t smart enough to avoid getting their asses thrown in prison¡­ or given community service or whatever,¡¯ he thought to himself, still struggling with the concept of how these people dealt with criminals. Shaking off his concerns, he decided he wasn¡¯t going to miraculously begin understanding their society. He figured the academian probably had a point. Jumping to conclusions, or just condemning things without any actual research was idiotic. For all he knew, their mind control links were this world¡¯s version of anti-psychotics. ¡®Wait a minute¡­ was it legal back home for the government to forcefully proscribe medication?¡¯ he wondered to himself, struggling to remember how it worked back on Earth. As everyone around him started to move forward, he matched their pace and groaned. ¡®I never even understood my own country¡¯s criminal justice system. What kind of an asshole am I being by judging theirs?¡¯ he asked himself. Rather than belabor the point, he forcefully dismissed the subject entirely and focused on what was going on around him. He could already see several groups of mages beginning to form shields above the troops marching into battle. Using his ability to perceive things through his essence field, he did his best to follow along with what they were doing. He could see that each mage was casting an individual shield spell form, but they were somehow merging their resulting spell¡¯s essence with whoever¡¯s shield touched their own. They weren¡¯t overlapping, or sitting next to each other. The shields were actually merging. Even watching it happen, he didn¡¯t understand it. The Wackos on each side of him raised their shields, and Nero watched closely as their spells merged above him. He could somehow tell that whatever essence interference was happening all around him wasn¡¯t hindering the process. Instead, it was somehow reinforcing it. Not wanting to screw anything up, he held back on casting his own to try and feel out what was happening. For some inexplicable reason, he was sure it had something to do with the whole group-think phenomenon he¡¯d noticed earlier. Concentrating on the emotions and fields that were all around him, he began to sense a communal desire to protect the troops under the shields. And suddenly, like a mental fog being lifted, he understood. The ether was like a lake, and everyone was swimming in it. When groups of casters wanted to work together, their intentions had to be in harmony with each other, or all you got was a lot of pointless splashing. Whatever mental connection that was happening was subtle, but it was there. It also explained why combat magic was so difficult when people were in such close proximity. When trying to cast a combat spell, or any spell for that matter, the ether had to understand what the caster wanted the essence to do. If there were too many cooks in the proverbial kitchen, the ether became sluggish and confused. Even if everyone wanted to throw fireballs, the size, type, and target would all be different. Uniformity of spell forms, intentions, and purpose were all required to make the ether cooperate. Thinking back to how he was able to cast whatever he wanted while surrounded by melee fighters, he theorized what had actually been happening. By separating himself from the emotional flow and conflicting desires going on all around him, the ether was able to ¡®hear¡¯ him. ¡®I should think about it like frequency modulation or something. Emotional channels, maybe? Here, perception is nine-tenths of the spiritual law,¡¯ he mentally chuckled. Letting himself slip into the emotional flow, he copied the spell form from the mages next to him and filled it with his center. After taking a few deep breaths to psyche himself up, he allowed to spell to form above him. He felt the shields that were already in place begin to shake a little as if they weren¡¯t sure his shield should be invited to their private party. But, after allowing himself to sink a little deeper into the surrounding essence fields, he felt his shield slide into place and join up with the greater whole. In a way, it was both freeing and terribly confining. It was an emotional contradiction on par with wanting to scream at someone he was deeply in love with for driving him crazy. While he¡¯d been examining and experimenting, the formation had looped around and approached the fighting. His first hint that they¡¯d arrived was when a massive spell slammed into the shields hard enough to make him wince in mental anguish. ¡®Oh yeah, shields replace muscles with brains. No wonder the kobalds sucked at going on the offensive. The mental midgets are probably just as stupid as they are tiny,¡¯ he thought to himself before wincing in pain at a fresh assault. Glancing over to see how the mages around him were faring, he was annoyed to see them grinning widely and looking forward to the battle. The ether around him practically sang with their uniform desire to push forward and engage with the enemy. Suddenly, he felt his connection to the emotion flow falter, and his shield began to separate and collapse. Panicking, he tried to reassert control and FORCE it to rejoin the larger shield network. The mage on his right leaned over and said, ¡°My lord, perhaps you should let us handle the shielding for now. I¡¯m sure you¡¯ll get the hang of it eventually, but now may not be the time to learn how to do it.¡± Frowning in annoyance, Nero didn¡¯t even have a chance to release his spell before it shattered, sending a spike of pain into his brain worse than any migraine he could remember. Furious at having failed so completely, not to mention having been seen doing it so publicly, Nero grimaced and swore vengeance on the lizards. Somehow, some way, he knew for a fact it was their fault. ¡®Little bastards probably work on an entirely different principle of magic. That¡¯s the only explanation I¡¯m willing to accept for them being able to do it so easily. Humans are just more emotionally complicated. That has to be it,¡¯ he reassured himself. Chapter 198 - Not realizing your strengths. ¡°After disseminating the new monitoring policies throughout the gates, we were able to confirm that our initial projections were based on incomplete data sets. We weren¡¯t able to ascertain what caused the inaccurate reporting, but based on the Thought-Hub registration numbers, we now know the number of immigrants reported by the guards was off by at least 11%,¡± declared Lord Mott. If one didn¡¯t know her, they would think City Lord Cosgrave was paying close attention to every word the man was saying. Her eyes were locked on him as if he were delivering the most important news she¡¯d ever heard. However, in reality, it took every bit of her impressive self-control to not simply order the man to get to the point. She¡¯d been listening to Lord Mott and his attendants for almost an hour, and he still hadn¡¯t addressed the topic of their meeting. She¡¯d asked him to sit down with her and go over the current status of the plans to deal with evacuation out of the outlying towns and villages. There were questions that she needed answered. She needed to know how long it would be until the city was at capacity. How were Dorchester¡¯s food supplies doing now that the closest waypoints had been closed down? What progress had been made in converting the city¡¯s internal forests into farmland? Were the reports that his team hadn¡¯t even started accurate? How has the density shift affected travel times for the refugees? Has the current war with the kobalds affected the projected schedule? However, knowing Lord Mott as she did, she knew it was pointless to rush him. She¡¯d known him for decades and he had always been the prototypical Center-Point graduate. He was simply incapable of presenting an opinion or conclusion without first having explained in detail how he¡¯d come to it. It was a common trait ingrained into everyone who¡¯d studied there. As a Center-Point graduate herself, she knew how hard it was to break the habit. If it weren¡¯t for her mother¡¯s constant mockery of the lecturing tone she used to use, she¡¯d probably still be doing it. Regardless, she understood why it was taught. The precise logical thought process to produce a reasonable conclusion required methodical and rigorous factual backing. Presenting conclusions without sufficient evidence at Center-Point was grounds for harsh punishments, even demerits. Yet, it was times like these that she recalled her mother¡¯s wisdom. ¡®In the classroom, your reasoning comes first because that was the point of the lesson. But, here in the keep, it¡¯s the answer that matters. Present your findings first, and only produce your reasoning when your conclusions are challenged. It will give people a sense that you always know what you''re talking about, and leave a lasting impression when you are asked to prove it. Not to mention that it will also save everyone a great deal of time,¡¯ she had said. ¡°So, as you can see, we can expect approximately 30% of our needed food to come from the converted farmlands. Also, the correlative trend should continue as we increase our population while performing the transition from gardens and forests into more productive landscapes like herding ranges and farms. We¡¯ve confirmed irrefutably that we¡¯ll require the underground farms to feed the city within four months,¡± said Lord Mott proudly. Gesturing to the advisor on his right, Lord Mott continued, ¡°Now, to present our modified citizenry influx models, I¡¯ll present Mr. Templeton. You might remember him as the sixth heir of House Templeton. He personally developed the new model we¡¯ll be presenting, and I have to say that it should be markedly more accurate than what we showed you last week.¡± Right as Mr. Templeton stepped forward to begin his report, City Lord Cosgrave held up her hand to stop him. Her tone failed to hide her annoyance when she said, ¡°One moment, Mr. Templeton. I¡¯m sure what you have for me will be nothing short of riveting, but I still haven¡¯t heard from Lord Mott as to what¡¯s actually been accomplished. We have thousands of square units of forest that are scheduled to be cleared and converted into farmlands. That¡¯s what the council agreed to. And while we¡¯ve talked a great deal about what we¡¯re planning, and why we¡¯re planning it, I haven¡¯t seen any evidence of your committee actually doing anything. Have you started the hiring process for woodcutters and farmhands? Have the plots themselves even been assigned? I need a progress report.¡± Lord Mott and the advisors all looked at her in confusion. ¡°My Lord, when you presented this assignment to me, I was under the impression that it was an exploratory committee to determine the best way to handle the impending immigration crises. I was unaware that we¡¯d also be handling the implementation of our findings during our initial fact-finding. With how quickly things are changing, our time has been taken up by adapting our models to current immigration and supply usage statistics. It will take some time before accurate long-term models can be developed and we can schedule a feasible implementation plan,¡± he declared, seemingly offended at the idea he was supposed to have done something. Completely out of patience, the city lord leaned back in her chair and began rubbing her temples. ¡°Lord Mott. I understand you want to wait for the numbers to become predictable. However, we don¡¯t have time for that. We need to start dealing with the problem BEFORE it becomes one. Those farms need to be up and running as soon as possible. As the density shift continues to alter the local essence, we¡¯ll have more and more people sheltering within our walls. Without those farms, we¡¯ll still be relying on what little food the refugees are bringing with them. Already caravans coming into the city are down 26%. By the time we have accurate reports of which villages and towns have emptied, their people will already be here. Yes, it will be useful to know what we can expect, but all the projection models in the world won¡¯t save us from having to deal with what¡¯s directly in front of us. Do you understand what I¡¯m telling you?¡± Before Lord Mott could answer, the door to her office opened. She looked over to see her trusted aide approaching with a poorly hidden smirk on her face. Glancing back at Lord Mott, the city lord said, ¡°A moment please, Lord Mott.¡± Ignoring the man¡¯s nod of acceptance, she took her aide¡¯s handwritten note. It is confirmed. All three agreed, offering their own options for replacements if you¡¯re interested. Forcing herself to not visibly react, she looked up at her aide and formed a private connection, one which was outside the monitoring ability of the Thought-Hub. ¡°To be clear. All three agreed to the terms? They will support my voiding of the consort agreements? And while they are ¡®offering¡¯ proposals for replacements, they are not demanding anything?¡± The aide failed to contain her smile. ¡°That¡¯s correct. For them, simply removing the influence from their competitors is enough. The current political climate is favorable, as everyone is more concentrated on the war and density shift. Ridding their enemies of their advantage is enough for them. They¡¯re even willing to formalize it in writing to see it done. No one wants a noble war, even a limited one. As you¡¯re perfectly in your rights, they are happy to take advantage of the situation without pushing for more.¡± Feeling victorious, she turned to Lord Mott and his attendants. ¡°I apologize for the interruption, but we¡¯ll have to continue this later. You can return to your modeling, as I¡¯m sure it will prove useful. However, the funds that have been set aside for future implementation of your plans are to be returned in full. I¡¯ll be assigning someone else to handle the farmland project. I¡¯ll also need you to provide whatever data you¡¯ve collected to whomever I put in charge of monitoring the situation with the refugees. You are obviously focused on the future, and while helpful¡­ essential even, it is not what Dorchester needs at the moment. Thank you for your time,¡± she said imperiously, enjoying the look of impotent rage on the man¡¯s face. Without another word, Lord Mott and his retinue bowed and left the room. Finally safe from prying eyes, she let the smile she had been hiding come out. Things were looking up. She would be able to leverage new committee positions to solidify her position. And for the first time since her ascension to the city seat, her house would be completely free of the commitments she¡¯d used to buy her victory over her siblings. This tale has been unlawfully lifted without the author''s consent. Report any appearances on Amazon. ¡ª-- He¡¯d thought the fighting would have started much sooner after the spells began raining down on them, but it turned out the kobalds had entrenched themselves inside some kind of weird-looking tower. If it weren¡¯t for the mountain''s incline, the height of their defensive position, and the fact that all the trees in the area had already been leveled, he wouldn¡¯t have been aware of it until he was right underneath it. ¡®Nobody ever mentioned the importance of height when it comes to knowing what¡¯s happening on the battlefield. There has GOT to be a spell or something that can allow me to look at things outside my essence field,¡¯ he complained. The moment the thought crossed his mind, he realized that what he had described was the entire purpose of scrying. Even the definition through the translation magic told him that ¡®scrying¡¯ meant magically observing things at a distance. Groaning in annoyance while stumbling up the terrain, he decided that the last thing he needed right now was another experiment with magic that he was barely familiar with. After the fiasco with the shield and his probable misinterpretation of the nature of combat magics, he needed to focus on what already knew how to do. He was pretty good at causing damage¡­ lots of damage. Whether he wanted to admit it or not, he needed to accept that the entirety of his spell repertoire at the moment consisted of stolen and mismatched combat magics, along with a few basic elemental spells. Well, that and a few utility spells that were less than useless for the current situation he was in. But, there was no point in complaining about it. He¡¯d just have to wait until he was closer to be of any use. Gritting his teeth, he focused on what he could see with his essence field. Already, the front of their formation was engaging the outer defenses of the kobald position. He could see the lizards hiding behind what looked like poor imitations of the mud walls Dorchester¡¯s army had been using. They were placed haphazardly and were much shabbier than what the human mages had made. He could also see that the kobalds were still relying on their mages for their overhead shields. So, they obviously didn¡¯t have anything like the shield generators he¡¯d seen the human army using. But they did still have numbers on their side. From what he could see, the little buggers were packed in like sardines and the larger kobalds were struggling to keep them under control. Surprisingly, the melee fighters at the front were having trouble coordinating their movements with how chaotic the fighting was getting. Despite how poorly the mud walls were made, they were doing their job and hindering the taller human¡¯s efforts to move forward. Looking over at one of the casters maintaining the shield over his head, Nero shouted loud enough for the man to hear him, ¡°Hey! Do you mind if I borrow your arm for a minute? I need to concentrate on something, so just make sure I don¡¯t get trampled by not paying attention.¡± Seeing the confused look on the caster¡¯s face, Nero didn¡¯t elaborate, and instead just grabbed the man¡¯s elbow and let him lead him as if he were blind. Closing his eyes, he put most of his concentration into his essence field. Reaching out, he focused on the kobald¡¯s mud walls. He tried to see how they were put together, and how much of them was actually dirt rather than just concentrated and shaped essence constructs. He hadn¡¯t gotten a close look at what the human mages had done, but he knew that it was closer to enchanting rather than casting. He could see that while the mud walls ¡®looked¡¯ like they were made out of dirt, that was only on a superficial level. The essence was shaped and given an identity, but it was much, much more solid than a simple spell construct. He could only assume that however they did it, the process must have been really center intensive and probably explained why it took groups of human mages working together to make them. He had to wonder how many kobalds it took to make a mudwall. Reaching out, he ran his mental projection over the wall the melee fighters were currently trying to overcome, attempting to get a closer look. He then compared it to the actual ground. There was an obvious difference between the two. It was like comparing a hollow metal casting to the original solid object it was copying. He could see how the mud walls looked metaphysically ¡®light¡¯ when compared to the ¡®heavy¡¯ feeling the real world gave off. It was interesting and more importantly, exploitable. Tracing the strands of essence within one of the walls, he located the weakest part of the construct and wedged his mental fingers into it. With a flex of his will, he demanded the essence to unravel and to stop pretending to ¡®be¡¯ a wall anymore. He felt like he was pitting his will against the local reality, but it wasn¡¯t all that hard as the ¡®reality¡¯ in this case was defined by the will of whoever had created the wall. In other words, little-bitch lizards. He felt the construct snap, then watched the entire wall begin to break apart. It looked pretty similar to when monster corpses melted back into the ether. Instead of vanishing, the mud wall simply broke apart into flakes and disappeared. The looks on the kobald¡¯s faces were priceless. Barely caught off guard for a moment, the humans descended on the kobalds like blitzing linebackers. Without the ability to hide behind their walls, the kobalds were slaughtered. Nero was a little surprised at how well his idea had worked out. It had been significantly easier to ¡®dispel¡¯ or interfere with something that wasn¡¯t actively being maintained. It also seemed like the interference in the ether from all the conflicting essence fields had absolutely no effect on what he had done. ¡®OK. That was much easier than casting,¡¯ he remarked to himself. Unfortunately, their formation¡¯s forward progress was hindered by what he assumed were walls outside his perception range. So, ultimately, his efforts amounted to very little in the grand scheme of things. It wasn¡¯t like they could charge forward, leaving everyone else behind. That would be suicidal. But, he wasn¡¯t discouraged. That was just step one in his grand plan to decimate the kobald hordes. Now, he just needed to figure out step two. Seeing as how the lizards were still bunched up, he decided to try and do a little casting. He quickly carved an ¡®acid barrage¡¯ spell, mentally gauging how high he¡¯d have to aim it to avoid the shields above him and the friendlies in front of him. After infusing it with some center, he paid close attention to how the essence in the ether reacted. Like he thought it would be, it was more than a little sluggish. In fact, he could see the strands practically ignoring his spell inputs. From what he could see, it was like every single bit of essence was being held in place by hundreds of little fingers currently poking at them. However, since there were so many, it amounted to the strands being completely held in place, totally out of his control. Although he was frowning, he was surprisingly happy to have his hypothesis confirmed. Now, he just had to figure out a good way to control the essence around him without disrupting the casters that were currently maintaining the shield over his head. ¡®Because that would be bad,¡¯ he reminded himself. Maintaining the spell form was easy, as it was completely made of his center. And he could take advantage of the potential from all the death in the ether, but that seemed like cheating. Directly giving the essence purpose wasn¡¯t what he wanted. Yes, it would probably work. And, yes, it would allow him to basically overpower everyone else¡¯s control. However, he wanted to figure out how to ¡®convince¡¯ the essence to ignore everyone else and just listen to him. He could use his mental presence to just ¡®grab¡¯ the essence, but that would cost center, as he would be responsible for giving it a new purpose. Which of course explained how wasteful he was of his center when he was first casting. So, that was out. He could overpower his spell with his center, increasing the pull on the surrounding essence. He could even copy what he did with the soul scraps, but use his own center instead to directly infuse the essence strands with his own directed purpose. But, whatever he did would most likely affect the casters around him. Unless he was REALLY careful. Which just screamed ¡®bad idea¡¯ in his head. So, how had he cast spells while under the shield generators? He hadn¡¯t affected them with his casting, had he? Thinking back, he was almost positive that he hadn¡¯t. ¡®Oh, right, they were running off essence crystals, which are essentially crystallized potential. Crap,¡¯ he realized. Mentally poking at the essence streams, he tried to physically nudge them without actually imparting any of his center into them. He watched as they bent and deformed, but refused to ¡®flow¡¯. He felt himself stumble over a kobald corpse and opened his eyes to see that the formation had made it to the remains of the mud wall he¡¯d removed. Reaching out, he saw that the melee fighters were already at the next wall. Dismissing his spell form, he recollected his center and felt around for the weak spot in the mud wall¡¯s construct. Finding it quickly, he casually shattered it before returning to his experiments. He knew there had to be a way to cast without affecting anyone else. Otherwise, this reality would just be stupid. Despite knowing that his logic was less than sound, he wholeheartedly embraced that belief and tried again. Casting a fresh spell form, he watched as the essence once again refused to power it. He felt like he was standing in front of a car with the hood up, staring blankly at an engine he had no idea how to fix. Like an asshole, he just stood there looking at it, hoping that his inherent manhood would somehow impart the knowledge of how to get it running. Fed up, and out of ideas, he looked closer at one of the essence streams for water that was struggling to connect with his spell form. He could see it ¡®wanted¡¯ to power his spell, but it was currently unsure if it ¡®should¡¯. There was a sense that it was like a dog being called by multiple people, each of which was offering it a treat. ¡®Is there really no other way to do it than just throwing center at the problem?¡¯ he wondered. Then, from out of nowhere, he recalled a memory from his childhood. One of his friend¡¯s fathers had gotten fed up with his dog refusing to fetch. The mutt was more than happy to go grab whatever was thrown, but it would refuse to hand it over after it collected it. Instead of ¡®fetching¡¯, it would just return to the man and show him that it had succeeded in collecting the ball. Giving up on trying to entice the stubborn animal, the man simply walked over to it and took the ball out of its mouth. Of course, the dog hadn¡¯t cared and was instead wagging its tail¡­ eagerly waiting for the man to throw it again. ¡®I don¡¯t have to get the essence to connect with the spell form. I can simply make the spell form on top of the essence stream I want to use,¡¯ he thought with a smile. Of course, that severely limited his spell-casting options. He couldn¡¯t use a complicated spell form, as he needed to recognize whatever essence streams the spell needed to function. So, ¡®acid barrage¡¯ was out because he had no freaking idea how it actually worked. He¡¯d simply futzed with parts of other spells until it had done what he wanted. ¡®Oh, looks like they¡¯re at another mud wall,¡¯ he noticed, before quickly removing it again. ¡®Now, what can I cast that I totally understand, and can reasonably build around essence streams that I can recognize,¡¯ he wondered while ignoring the chaos going on all around him. Chapter 199 - Brilliant idea... Take 2 Specialist Howard heard Sergeant Blackwood¡¯s voice over the command channel they¡¯d set up for their unit, ¡°Are you sure you can combat cast in these conditions?¡± Mentally scoffing, Specialist Howard replied, ¡°It shouldn¡¯t be a problem, Sergeant. Lower kobalds don¡¯t exactly have a strong ethereal presence. Even with their numbers, their harmonic force is practically non-existent. I shouldn¡¯t have a problem isolating what I need.¡± Even over the command line, Specialist Howard could feel Sergeant Blackwood rolling his eyes at his exaggeration. ¡°If you say so. Feel free to join the fight when you feel like it then.¡± ¡°Don¡¯t mind if I do, Sergeant,¡± replied the specialist. He was looking forward to getting back to what he was good at. Recent events had become overly complicated for his tastes and he needed something familiar to settle his center. He mentally chuckled at the thought of referring to recent events as ¡®complicated¡¯. ¡®More like utterly and obscenely perplexing,¡¯ he remarked to himself. After they¡¯d nearly been killed in what was, at best, a poorly handled envelopment maneuver, he and the elites had ended up being saved by Lord Walker of all people. Somehow, the little lord had already created his own little force of personal adherents while also enlisting the aid of penal conscripts¡­ hells be damned penal conscripts! Then, for some reason or another, the captain had agreed to join Lord Walker in an unsanctioned military action after filing an official complaint against Command for their ¡®dishonorable conduct being unworthy of the oaths they¡¯d sworn¡¯, or something like that. To be honest, the entire situation made absolutely no sense to him, and if he hadn¡¯t personally seen it all happen, he wouldn¡¯t have believed it. Back, before this all happened, when the general had told him that this assignment would help him with his shortcomings. He had thought the ¡®strategic thinking¡¯ he was supposed to learn would have had something to do with war. After all, he was a war mage. At the time, it had seemed like a reasonable conclusion to make. But now he wondered if he had missed the general¡¯s point entirely. Was he supposed to have been learning something from Lord Walker? Maybe Captain Angleton? Had the general been hinting at something else? Was it a warning about the attempt on his life? Someone else¡¯s life? Everyone¡¯s lives? Or did the hint he missed have something to do with the recent ascension of Lord Walker to unique? Possibly, it was something else altogether. Unanswerable questions like these were why he hated being away from the battlefield. Outside of combat, almost everything became too convoluted and chaotic for his liking. He simply wasn¡¯t suited to a life behind the walls among the schemers. But out here, on the battlefield, none of that mattered. Taking a deep breath, Specialist Howard relished the smell of war in the air. It was pretty ironic that the only time he truly felt at peace was when was engaged with the enemy, surrounded by his fellow soldiers united in their singular purpose to eliminate all that opposed them. Rather than worrying about Captain Angleton¡¯s politicking, or whether or not someone from Command had actually tried to kill them, he was able to focus on the here and now. The assignment he¡¯d been given this time was straightforward and uncomplicated: Stay with Sergeant Blackwood on the right flank¡­ and kill the enemy. With a gentle flex of his will, he separated his essence field from the emotional confluence being maintained by the shield bearers. Once his harmonic signature was isolated, he reached out to collect essence to add to his essence shield. He probably didn¡¯t need more, but he¡¯d drilled the practice so often that it was almost a reflex at this point. Choosing to keep it simple, he decided to start off with a few ¡®flame lances¡¯ and one or two ¡®sensory disruption orbs¡¯. Since the kobalds were all basically weaklings, even the big ones, he knew he didn¡¯t need to empower his spell forms all that much. After stamping the four spell forms above his head, he infused them with his center and latched them to his essence shield. Being careful not to disrupt the shield bearer''s control of the ether, he harmonized with the essence waves and coaxed them into his ethereally carved spell forms, making sure that whatever essence he was pulling in came from the reserves he¡¯d collected. Next, he allowed a trickle of his center to flow through his shield and into the runic patterns until it filled the spell-wrought constructs he was building. When they were ready, he fired his spells into the kobald horde over the heads of the melee fighters. With a grin, he watched as the flame lances blasted threw the kobald¡¯s poorly constructed earth walls. The sensory disruption orbs did their jobs, and the lizards flailed around like fish denied the comfort of their watery home. After waiting for the melee fighters to finish off the kobalds, he fired another volley. Like a carefully choreographed dance, he watched events repeat themselves. Again, and again, he fired his spells and watched the results while occasionally refilling his essence reserves to maintain his essence shield¡¯s cohesion. The only variation from his perspective was the result of his carefully monitored center expenditures. After every volley, he adapted his spells slightly to improve their efficiency. The simplicity of this type of combat eased his worries and acted like a balm on his soul. Even with the violence and death all around him, he felt the world beginning to make sense again. Unfortunately, that sense of peace and order didn¡¯t last long. Somewhere near the center of their formation, he felt the ether stir in a way he was surprisingly unfamiliar with. Considering how much combat experience he had, the feeling of being caught off guard by what was happening raised the hairs on his neck and drained the blood from his face. ¡®For the love of all that is good and just, what is it now?¡¯ he wondered. He was completely done with being caught off guard. He was a hells be damned war mage. If he couldn¡¯t find a sense of normalcy out here in his element, he was well and truly screwed. Spreading out his perception field, he tried to determine or at least locate what had happened. He carefully studied the ether surrounding the shield bearers all along their lines. Not finding anything out of the ordinary, he continued his sweep, analyzing the spells the kobalds were reigning down on them. Narrowing his eyes in concentration, he continued his vigil while maintaining his fire support for the melee troops in front of him. He knew he hadn¡¯t imagined whatever it was. Something had gone off like a bomb in the ether. A great deal of essence was returned to the ether and he¡¯d felt the shockwave. Spells, constructs, and even rituals usually bled into the ether when they dissipated. They DID NOT do whatever the hells that was. ¡®There!¡¯ he mentally shouted before his mind stumbled hard enough to almost lose control of his spell forms. He had no words to describe what he¡¯d just seen. Somehow, that little unique, Lord Walker, had disrupted a constructed enchantment¡­ at a distance¡­ on his own. He didn¡¯t disenchant it, or even dispel it. He SHATTERED it. All that potential unraveled and returned to the ether alongside the essence it had infused. He could only assume it was another example of whatever weird ability the young lord had to directly manipulate essence flows. Calling it ¡®unique¡¯ was right. And now that he¡¯d seen the process happen with his own senses, he suddenly felt like he understood why so many random people were following him. ¡®If he keeps doing impossible shit like that, even I might want to stick around just to see what he¡¯ll do next,¡¯ he thought to himself. ¡ª- Frowning in annoyance, Nero used his mental projection in his essence field to examine the strands of various essences filling the ether. He had figured it would be easy. The flows weren¡¯t exactly hiding, and he¡¯d had no trouble finding what he¡¯d needed before. However, in retrospect, he should have known it wouldn¡¯t be that simple. When he cast a spell or took hold of what he needed, he usually didn¡¯t have a problem grabbing whatever essence stream caught his fancy. It was a simple matter of reaching out and taking hold of what he wanted. Unauthorized content usage: if you discover this narrative on Amazon, report the violation. But now that he was reversing the process, trying to put a spell form on top of the essence stream he wanted to use, he realized how impractical his idea actually was. There was simply too much essence in the ether. It was like the difference between using a needle to pull out a single stitch from a sweater and trying to actually stop a car on top of a dime. Every single cubic inch of the ether had hundreds¡­ thousands¡­ maybe millions of strands of ether that he was only now noticing. The closer he looked, the more he found, and the less he recognized. ¡®This isn¡¯t working,¡¯ he told himself with a sigh. He was thoroughly disheartened at having his totally brilliant revelation proven wrong and once again confirming that he had very little idea how anything around here actually worked. No matter how ¡®close¡¯ he put the spell form he was building, the essence refused to join with his spell inputs. There were so many strands of what he needed all over the place, it practically didn¡¯t matter where he put his spell form. It was always both right next to what he needed, and far enough away that the essence refused to cooperate without him. The only option he could see was forcing it to with his own essence, otherwise known as his center. ¡®It¡¯s got to have something to do with my mind. It¡¯s the only thing that makes sense,¡¯ he decided. He was relatively sure that his soul was what gave him the ability to see and take hold of what he wanted in the ether. And while it was only conjecture, he thought his mind might be what controlled his actual presence in the ether. If he were able to carefully control how strong a hold he had on the essence streams, he might be able to ¡®convince¡¯ the essence to flow while not ripping it out of the control of everyone around him. He¡¯d done it in duels with Specialist Howie and in the fight with the mage that had tried to assassinate him. Even when he was around Nick in the wilds, they¡¯d been able to cast when they¡¯d been right on top of each other. Now that he was in the middle of so many people vying for control of the ether, the only difference was a matter of scale¡­ probably. ¡®I just have to look at the problem correctly,¡¯ he told himself, refusing to admit defeat. Swallowing the mouth sweats that resulted from his decision to experiment and possibly disrupt the shield over his head. Nero, for once, thought about the consequences of his actions. ¡°No. It¡¯s not like we¡¯re losing, or even taking losses. I can experiment and figure this out when I¡¯m not in danger of killing anybody,¡± he muttered. Pulling back on his senses, he decided to hunker down and concentrate on bringing down the mud walls and looking for other ways to contribute. He didn¡¯t want his desire for relevance to get any of the dumb bastards who decided to follow him killed. Mentally returning to the battle, he saw that the melee fighters were, in fact, already at another mud wall. Reaching out, he did his thing and watched as the wall vanished into the ether. Not having anything else to do, he thought about what he could practice without screwing up the good thing they had going on. After mentally running through his options, the only thing he could come up with was practicing his mage armor. As far as he knew, that didn¡¯t require ripping the control of essence away from anyone. All it required was for him to spread out his senses and scoop up whatever essence wasn¡¯t being used at the moment. The only time his control came into it was at the edges, and even then it wouldn¡¯t affect anything. It wasn¡¯t like the essence inside his ¡®bubble¡¯ disappeared. The flows were still there, still under the control of whoever had a grip on them. They weren¡¯t even replaced immediately, they were permanent fixtures in the ether. It was like he was just using a net to pull in whatever wasn¡¯t currently in use. Worst case scenario, he got nothing and all he did was waste a little brain power. Deciding to try it, he threw open his essence field and slowly grabbed hold of the edges. His touch started off so light that he wondered if he was actually holding anything. Watching carefully, he slowly increased his mental grip while paying close attention to see if what he was doing might start affecting the casters maintaining the shield. Unsurprisingly, he didn¡¯t see a single caster doing anything other than holding the shield together. ¡®If it were easy, everyone would be doing it,¡¯ he consoled himself. After getting a solid grip on whatever he could, he took a moment to confirm that he wasn¡¯t affecting anyone else. With a sigh, he mentally prayed to whatever gods they had here¡­ maybe that chick Goddess Seline Dion or whomever. ¡°Please don¡¯t fuck up. Please don¡¯t fuck up,¡± he muttered to himself over and over again. With a slight flex of his will, he started pulling in his shield. With a smile, he watched as the essence he stripped completely bypassed whatever flows were being controlled by the casters all around him. It really was like a net, or maybe a big bubble that was shrinking in the water. As fast as he pulled it in, the essence behind it filled up what he took. What he was doing affected nothing, and the casters were none the wiser. Chuckling merrily at his theory being successfully proven, he compressed the essence into a film around his body. Now that it wouldn¡¯t affect anyone, he took hold of it and exerted his authority over it. Next, he had to fill it with his center so that he could give it purpose and create his mage armor. Suddenly he stopped in his tracks, realizing what he was about to do. He was basically about to cast a spell¡­ just without a spell form. So why couldn¡¯t he use the essence he¡¯d collected to cast a spell? Resuming his glacial advancement alongside the rest of the troops, he angrily muttered, ¡°I¡¯m such a fucking idiot.¡± He suddenly recalled how Specialist Howie had his spell forms floating alongside him. It all became so simple now that he thought about it. If the essence he was using to cast was attached to him, then the spell form he created from it would follow along. It was almost too easy to carve his simplified fireball spell and attach it to his shoulder. He didn¡¯t even bother making the mage armor he had planned, he just relied on the essence field he had collected to power the spell. He didn¡¯t even have trouble funneling his essence through his field and attaching it to the spell form. It was so disgustingly simple that he almost felt like screaming. The last time he¡¯d missed something this obvious was when he realized the division symbol was literally a symbolic representation of a fraction. The two dots were just the places where the numbers were supposed to go. It was NOT a proud collegiate moment for him. Without any further ado, he launched his spell only to then scream, ¡°FUCKEDY FUCK FUCK!¡± Like an idiot, he¡¯d anchored the spell right next to his head. The fireball he launched completely charred the side of his face with the resulting heat. Luckily, it fired fast enough to maintain the aim he¡¯d set up, so no one other than him was hurt. Of course, the pain was enough to cause him to lose control of the spell form, and the resulting pain from the miscast spiked into his brain as if he¡¯d just walked in on his grandparents doing it. Now, with a headache to go with the ruined half of his face, Nero stomped around like he was throwing a tantrum all the while screaming obscenities loud enough to cause everyone around him to flinch. Luckily he was still in the middle of an active warzone, so his voice didn¡¯t carry nearly far enough to pull that much attention to his plight. No one who actually heard him dared interrupt his tirade until he was done. After a bit, he managed to calm himself down enough to cast a healing spell or two. But, it took more than a few to rebuild his cartilage, his inner ear, muscles, and skin. The only thing he didn¡¯t know how to fix was his hair. ¡°Are you alright, my lord?¡± asked the caster he¡¯d been using as a walking assistant. Looking up at them with a glare, he replied, ¡°Just peachy. I¡¯m just figuring some stuff out. Mind your business.¡± Seeing the poor guy flinch and pretend to ignore him, Nero sighed. This world was filled with people that made him feel like he was kicking puppies. He didn¡¯t even know why he felt bad, these idiots would kill each other in arenas, and execute people who broke the law when they weren¡¯t enslaving them with magitech. Not to mention base their entire society around combat and archaic nobility systems. Yet, give them some sass and a little gentle ribbing and they folded like a blanket. Running his hand through what was left of his hair, he said, ¡°Look. Sorry about that. I didn¡¯t mean anything by it. I just¡­ It¡¯s like this. I was experimenting with a spell and¡­ well, you saw what happened. You¡¯re doing great, so just keep up the good work. Don¡¯t mind me.¡± The wacko smiled at Nero like he¡¯d just been offered a yearly bonus for exceptional service. ¡°Thank you, my lord. Combat casting in conditions like this isn¡¯t easy. I never got the hang of it myself. But, if you need anything, just let me know. We¡¯re almost at the kobald¡¯s defensive tower. You may want to prepare yourself.¡± Nero looked up at what he could see, and sure enough the tower they¡¯d been approaching now loomed over them like a city block-sized apartment building. The earthen walls looked compressed enough to be called rock, and the almost black structure was filled with open platforms filled with snarling kobald casters reigning hell down on the shields over his head. Looking back at the wacko caster walking next to him, he couldn¡¯t stop himself from grimacing at the man¡¯s smile. ¡®How in the hell is his head not pounding after holding a shield through all that spell fire?¡¯ he wondered. With a sigh, he patted the man on his arm and returned to what he was doing. ¡®I really do have a lot further to go before I can consider myself a competent mage, don¡¯t I,¡¯ he complained miserably. Setting aside his proclivity to accept his shortcomings and instead pull out a snack, Nero firmed his will and began gathering more essence so he could try again. By the time they made it inside that monstrosity, he needed to be able to cast his spells without nearly killing himself. ¡®Oh! The melee fighters are stuck at another mudwall¡­ aaaannnd done,¡¯ he said to himself happily before resuming his experiments. Chapter 200 - How to play a mage. It had taken some careful maneuvering, but King Oliver Oglivarch¡¯s entire day was free. What meetings he couldn¡¯t reschedule, he¡¯d arranged to be canceled by the party he would have been meeting. Simple plots, all of them, but amusing nonetheless. Lately, all too often, events hadn¡¯t quite progressed in the manner he thought they would. So, it was nice to play some simple games that played out as expected. He was currently on the highest floor of his tower, spending some time in meditation. As usual, he sat hovering above the floor, cross-legged with his eyes closed, utterly and completely still. If it weren¡¯t for his clothes billowing in the harsh wind, one would think he was a statue. He was the very picture of serenity. Yet, despite how he appeared, his mind and soul were anything but tranquil. His presence stretched itself out through the ether across the horizon. His incredibly high level, along with his ¡®observation¡¯ pillar, allowed him to watch over his entire kingdom. All it took was a little effort, and some time away from distractions. One of the situations he was checking in on was the recent upheaval going on in the Kuchali Kingdom. Or more accurately, how his cities were dealing with it. From what he could tell, the increased raiding along the coast was a result of an internal civil war between the kingdom¡¯s islands. It was disappointing that despite all the trade going on, his cities still hadn¡¯t figured out what was happening. Hopefully, the situation would resolve itself without him having to step in. He was also swiftly addressing the paperwork he was constantly being inundated with. Through his direct connection to several Though Hubs, he was able to bypass privacy protections, process vast amounts of data, and maintain the all-knowing mystique he¡¯d become known for. While he could pay attention to almost everything in the city, abusing the systems he had in place was much easier. Several other parts of his mind were updating him on other situations he needed to be aware of. One was checking in on the Centaur situation. Others were updating him on the various noble wars going on in Blaskentor, Eatornis, Lannis, and Restorbach. One was even watching his wife and their consorts so he could take their ¡®help¡¯ into consideration when furthering his plans with the Tower of Fate. He, along with almost everyone else, knew that they were the ones actually running the kingdom, but he still found it annoying how they constantly took over his personal projects. Where he would have preferred subtlety and guile, they tended to be very direct. He wasn¡¯t surprised, as his queen was their leader, and she was anything but subtle. A trait that was obvious when he looked at their progress with his plans to dismantle the Tower of Fate. In many ways, it was annoying how good they were at what they did. Already his statistical model concerning the gradual weakening of the Tower influence was months ahead of schedule. And if the current trend continued, his clever manipulations in Dorchester would end up being completely pointless. But, considering there was nothing he could do about it, he simply watched it happen and tried his best to adapt. They really did take all the fun out of his games. While all that was happening in the back of his mind, the central portion of his consciousness was watching the conflict between the exiled Mountain Lord of Nemoria and the city¡¯s current hero, Jancy O¡¯Breen. This one he wanted to watch in real time, rather than look into the ethereal streams to learn what happened. Observing things currently happening felt infinitely more real than when he just absorbed the information from the ether. As for this particular moment in time, he¡¯d been looking forward to it for a while, and he was excited to see the situation resolve itself. The story between them was a good one, and he wanted to see how it would end. Unfortunately, right as Jancy O¡¯Breen and her party kicked in the Mountain Lord¡¯s throne room door, his consciousness was distracted by someone coming up the stairs in his tower. He could sense that they were hiding themselves under a powerful illusion, bypassing the checkpoints and hurrying up the stairs. Frowning in annoyance, he switched out his main perspective for one of his mental subprocesses. Although his iron will was enough to stop him from audibly cursing, he still felt like chastising whoever it was that was trying and failing to sneak up on him. Of course, that feeling only lasted about a moment, as he immediately broke through their illusionary protections and recognized who was coming. Sighing in acceptance that he wouldn¡¯t get to enjoy seeing his efforts to subvert another prophecy come to fruition, he braced himself for what he expected to be another ¡®conversation¡¯ about him keeping unnecessary secrets. ¡®Why can¡¯t my wife and her¡­ I mean MY hells be damned harem just let me plot in peace,¡¯ he complained to himself in frustration. The floor opened and his consort, Lydia, shimmered into reality as she let go of the illusion she had been projecting. He watched as she waved her hand to stabilize the wind, before fixing her hair with another practiced gesture. Before he could greet her, she pointedly asked, ¡°How do you want me to handle the dwarven embassy¡¯s request?¡± The king kept his face blank of any emotion, while internally scrambling to determine what she was talking about. He swiftly went through the records of the recent meeting between the dwarves and his representatives, before finding what he was looking for in the pre-approved treaty they had surprisingly already submitted. Slightly widening his eyes in shock, he quickly read through what they had decided on. His emotional control nearly slipped when he saw that they had accepted the agreement with minimal changes, none of which he be reasonably contested. Not only that, they had already chosen the companion city they¡¯d be building near. Out of the list of 38 cities he¡¯d offered, each with mountainous regions nearby and various levels of development, it was both alarming and expected that they had indeed chosen Dorchester. However, the problem was that the city wasn¡¯t nearly ready yet. The density shift had barely begun, and it was currently still at war with the kobalds. None of his projections had predicted the dwarves would make their choice this quickly. He¡¯d carefully planned how the negotiations would go, and this was skipping too many steps for his liking. ¡®Why¡­ Or better yet, HOW did this happen?¡¯ he wondered. When he¡¯d first charted this plan, the dwarves would have chosen Dorchester only after it had been abandoned. The density shift should have cleared the citizenry with beast wave after beast wave, which would have flattened everything and allowed him to rebuild the city for its new purpose. The dwarves would then have a prime high essence density surface to trade with. And when the kobalds were ¡®discovered¡¯, the dwarves¡¯ choice would be practically forced by circumstance. They were a culture that reveled in fighting after all. Furthermore, by having them join in the battles with the returning citizens coming back after the evacuation, the bonds they built would redefine the region. Dorchester massive mountain mines would be taken over by the dwarves, and cooperative trade would built into the foundations of the political landscape during Dorchester¡¯s reconstruction. Yet, the plan had been altered considerably, not to mention expanded First, he had moved up the timetable considerably as the predicted density shift had started earlier than expected. The Populator''s enthusiastic destruction of the traitorous house Dorchen had seen to that. Also, due to the expected Noble War becoming exposed along with the aggressor''s crimes becoming public knowledge, he¡¯d had to compensate for the city¡¯s ruling family not being replaced. Since the city¡¯s army hadn¡¯t suffered the losses he¡¯d expected, he had to take into account that the city¡¯s nobility would choose to ride out the density shift, but again, he¡¯d compensated for that. He¡¯d even compensated for the kobalds being discovered earlier than expected. It was a simple logical deduction to assume they¡¯d evacuate their citizens into the ancient mountain city they¡¯d abandoned. Thereby finding the kobalds, and pre-emptively starting the predicted war. All of that was already taken into account and incorporated into his projection models. So, why did the dwarves not wait the expected two years before making their decision? ¡®Unless¡­?¡¯ he thought to himself with some trepidation. Hurriedly going back through the paperwork, he felt like groaning when he found the cause of the expected deviation from the plan. Someone had updated the profile packets to link with real-time data from the cities being offered for the dwarven embassy¡¯s consideration. The carefully determined profiles he had prepared for the dwarves to see had been replaced with references to the city records authority. While it made for more efficient and elegant paperwork, it was NOT what he had intended for them to see. As he was so focused on the plan to destabilize the Tower of Fate with the survival of Dorchester, he¡¯d forgotten the part it played in his plans with the dwarves. He¡¯d mistakenly forgotten to take into account the first principle of predicted analysis: ¡®Every reaction results from an initial action¡¯. Internally groaning, he quickly updated the models he had been using on the private Thought Hub he had hidden away at the bottom of his personal tower. Barely stopping himself from frowning at the results, he realized he was out of time. After five seconds of silence, he couldn¡¯t stall for any longer without making it obvious. It was inconceivable to him to allow his consort¡¯s faith in him to be shaken. The words of the great philosopher Merrick Bellamy came to mind. ¡®While a person¡¯s identity is the result of self-determination, how a person is perceived by the world around them is determined by their actions.¡¯ Or, as his father put it, ¡®You can be whoever you want. A scholar, a warrior, a merchant, even a priest. But, if you want to be king, then the first thing you have to do is start acting like one.¡¯ Instead of directly answering Lydia¡¯s question, he replied, ¡°The decision tree I developed for the negotiation still applies. You need to simply skip ahead to section 289 subsection 12. It¡¯s the protocol for if the kobalds had initiated the war earlier than expected. The only alteration would be that you¡¯re to coordinate with Dorchester¡¯s leadership council while they are still in their city. I¡¯ll take care of everything else.¡± Nodding in relief, Lydia¡¯s eyes darted around as she accessed her link. While looking through her personal notes, she replied, ¡°Right. Of course. Good. Now that I¡¯m looking at it, I see what you mean.¡± Without another word, she turned around and walked off to go deal with the unforeseen situation. Over her shoulder, she said, ¡°Enjoy the rest of your day off, dear.¡± The king watched her walk away, struggling to maintain his composure. When she finally closed off the entrance behind her, he couldn¡¯t stop himself from audibly harumphing. Unauthorized reproduction: this story has been taken without approval. Report sightings. Turning away, he looked out over the city. He closed off several sections of his mind that were reporting to him on what was happening in his kingdom. As his core consciousness grew, he let himself get lost in his thoughts. He was both annoyed and amused at the situation he found himself in. He couldn¡¯t remember the last time a game had given him such trouble. The feeling of being continually caught off guard was both aggravating and more than a little exciting. Relaxing his self-control, he felt a wide smile stretch across his face. ¡®I haven¡¯t felt this alive in centuries,¡¯ he thought to himself, having completely forgotten about the various events he¡¯d been watching. ¡ª-- Nero was grinning like a madman as he continued firing his spells into the air. It had taken some time, but he now had his spell form hovering over his head like a crown. ¡®No more shooting myself in the face,¡¯ he thought to himself with a grin. While successful, his experiments had resulted in a few mistakes¡­ alright more than a few. But, that was all behind him now. His turret was in place, and there was a solid stream of essence connecting it to his essence field. Luckily, he managed to keep himself from laughing in joy at his achievement. The last he needed was to be labeled a lunatic by his ironically named wackos. With the kobald corpses underfoot, and the sounds of combat going on all around him, he knew this wasn¡¯t the right place for levity. Glancing over to the wacko he¡¯d been fighting alongside, he couldn¡¯t help but feel proud when he noticed the impressed look on the man¡¯s face. Trying to remember, he thought to himself, ¡®I think his name is Glen¡­ or maybe Bill.¡¯ Pausing the influx of essence to his ¡®fireball¡¯ spell form, Nero reached out through his essence field and destroyed another mud wall. It was tricky, but he managed to hold on to the condensed essence he¡¯d collected, the spell form, and the mental probe he was using, all while keeping enough of his mind clear to pay attention to what his body was doing. There wasn¡¯t much to see with his eyes while inside the formation, but he still needed to keep his feet under him to avoid being trampled. As the seconds stretched into minutes, the battle progressed, and Nero watched as the melee fighters pushed closer and closer to the kobald¡¯s tower. The fighting got more and more chaotic, and he could see some of the front-line fighters beginning to take injuries. Glancing blows, half-dead kobalds clawing at their heels after being put down, and an increased number of the larger kobalds made it obvious to him that it was only a matter of time until someone ended up dying. So, it didn¡¯t come as much of a surprise when he noticed a pair of wackos stumbling through the lines, looking to meet up with the healers in the back. The grin Nero didn¡¯t know he was still wearing faded as he watched a woman prop up a man with his arm over her shoulder. He could see a vicious wound on her leg bleeding heavily while the man was trying and failing to stop his guts from spilling out. Nero recognized both of them from the interviews he¡¯d held. The woman was named Nora¡­ something, and the guy was Oscar something or another. Both of them had caught his eye due to their histories. Nora was a mother whose kids had already left home. Fed up with her life, she was looking to try and earn a few levels to stave off the age creep she felt breathing down her neck. He remembered noticing the regret in her voice when she talked about her wasted life and the subtle sense of hope she had when speaking about the future. If he recalled correctly, she was over seventy despite looking in her late thirties. But looking over thirty was proof enough that she was failing to level fast enough to stay young. Oscar on the other hand reminded Nero of himself a bit. He was in his late twenties and had been kicked out of school or something. No, it was a preparatory academy for the military maybe? Either way, the guy had a problem with authority, and Nero could respect that. To Nero, hearing the guy¡¯s story was like listening to any number of college dropouts he¡¯d interviewed for sales positions at the store he used to work at. The wounded sense of pride he had was obvious to Nero. Moving carefully to avoid interfering with the casters maintaining the shield, Nero made his way over to where the two wounded wackos would appear. Through his essence field, he kept track of them, marveling at their strength of will while they tried to make it to the healers before collapsing. ¡®Damn. These sons of bitches are all heart. Rudy would be proud,¡¯ he thought to himself with respect. Slipping through the formation, he got to them just in time to catch Oscar as Nora collapsed. Despite how gruesome Oscar''s wound was, Nora¡¯s leg wound had caused her to bleed out. ¡°Just try and keep it together for a second. I got ya, man,¡± Nero said to Oscar encouragingly while helping him to his knees. Noting Oscar¡¯s nod, Nero awkwardly left the pale-faced man and approached Nora¡¯s body. She had fallen face first into a kobald body. Grabbing her shoulder, he flipped her over as the surrounding troops moved on while doing their best to give him space. Having forgotten to recover the center he¡¯d injected into the ¡®fireball¡¯ spell he¡¯d dismissed, Nero grimaced at the fact his reserves were below 70%. Taking a moment to collect himself, Nero closed his eyes and said to himself, ¡®Focus asshole! Staying centered is more than a state of mind in this world.¡¯ Opening his eyes, he placed his hands on Nora¡¯s stomach and cast the resuscitation spell. He felt the spell form snap together, but the spell seemed to be fighting him. The essence was moving in response to his needs, but it was too slow for his liking. It was like it wanted to help, but was too busy at the moment. Growling in annoyance, he remembered that he was currently fighting the entirety of the army¡¯s combined essence field for control of the ether. He quickly tried to locate the input nodes of the spell so he could connect to his personal reservoir of essence he¡¯d collected. The seconds stretched as he found more and more inputs requiring essence streams he didn¡¯t recognize. ¡®This isn¡¯t working,¡¯ he thought grimly. He either needed to get far enough away from the battle, or he needed to use more center in his spell. But, neither option was practical at the moment. ¡®Fuck it,¡¯ he said to himself before reaching out to the free-floating potential in the air. Firming up his spell form with the soul remnants in the ether, Nero felt the spell form start sucking in the surrounding essence like a fat kid hoovering a milkshake. The moment the spell was completed, he felt his access to Nora¡¯s inner world open. Just like before, there was an empty void with an invisible tether leading off into the distance. He¡¯d gotten to her quickly, and he could see the tether was still thick enough to be called a cable. With his access to the potential in the ether, he didn¡¯t hold back and flooded the tether with his presence. He felt like he was converting the soul stuff directly into his personal brand of essence, his center. He felt her soul snap back into her body. For just a moment, his presence lingered. Considering how much Nero-infused essence he¡¯d used, he felt like he dwarfed her despite it being her body. Smiling down at her, he was happy to see her filling out her soul space while looking up at him in thanks. Retreating back into his own mind, he left her after giving her a gentle pat on the back. It all happened so quickly, that he was barely aware of what he¡¯d done. The moment he opened his eyes, he watched her gasp awake. Like someone coming out of a nightmare, she shot up and grabbed him in a hug. Awkwardly patting her back, he said, ¡°It¡¯s all right now. You¡¯re safe. Let¡¯s get you up and back into the fight. You¡¯ve got some more kobalds to kill if you want. Otherwise, just head to the back and get yourself together, Nora.¡± Nero felt her let go enough to look him in the eye while still gripping his shoulders in a death grip. She looked him directly in the eyes with tears streaming down her face, and said, ¡°I saw you, my lord. You brought me back from the void. I¡¯ve been resuscitated three times in my life, but I¡¯ve never felt anything like that. You¡¯re presence shines in the ether like a beacon. Thank you¡­ Thank you¡­¡± As she collapsed into him, he again patted her back. ¡°OK. That¡¯s enough now, I¡¯ve got to go heal Oscar. Let¡¯s see if we can hold off on him having to see my ¡®soul beacon¡¯,¡± he said, trying to cheer her up with some humor. ¡°Of course, my lord!¡± she said, while shoving him away like he¡¯d burned her. Chuckling, he turned around and started healing the man clinging to life beside him. Not even bothering to try and connect his spell forms to his collected essence, Nero just flooded the spell form with the soul stuff from the ether. It wasn¡¯t like there was a shortage of dead kobalds, so he figured it wouldn¡¯t be a problem. The abnormally powerful spells healed Oscar up startlingly fast. And in no time at all Oscar was back on his feet. Weirdly, Nero noticed that his center was back to full. Rather than contemplate the implications, he did what he did best and ignored it. Standing up, Nero grinned at the two wackos he¡¯d saved. ¡°Like I told Nora here, if you don¡¯t feel up to it, feel free to head to the back. You can leave your revenge to me if you want. I plan on paying the kobald¡¯s back for what they did to you. After all, all this started because they invaded. Moral superiority for the win, am I right?¡± he said jovially. Nora and Oscar stared down at him in astonishment, not knowing what to say. Feeling a little awkward with the silence, Nero looked around to emotionally distance himself from the situation. He immediately noticed the troops moving past them had slowed down. Looking back at them, he said, ¡°OK. Well, like I said, do what you like. I¡¯m off to storm the castle. Stay safe.¡± Turning away, he slipped through the troops, his small frame allowing him to brush past people before they even noticed him. ¡®Now I understand why kids are always described as amazing pickpockets,¡¯ he thought to himself with a smile. It was amazing how being almost a foot shorter than most people made him almost invisible in the crowd. Well, maybe not a foot, but most of the men were over six feet, and the women were probably 5¡¯10¡± on average so it was close enough. The heights were simply weird here. There was Cathleen who was at best 5¡¯ 6¡± while Captain Angelton was like 6¡¯ 6¡±. Everyone was relatively good-looking, and he¡¯d yet to see a good ¡®ole fat guy. It probably had something to do with a person¡¯s belief informing their reality. ¡®Where the hell did THAT thought come from,¡¯ he wondered. Regardless, he was soon back with the casters. Moving down the line, he slipped back into his spot in the formation and saw that the melee fighters were trying to force their way into a 10-foot wide open hallway at the base of the kobald¡¯s tower. Looking up at the monstrosity, he felt he should call it a building rather than a tower. Now that he was close enough, he could see that despite how it looked from a distance, it was more like a really tall apartment building than a tower. More and more melee fighters were retreating to the back for healing, and the troops seemed to be cycling faster than usual. However, he didn¡¯t see anyone in danger of dying before they got there, so he held off on tracking them down and healing them himself. Instead, he reached out and tried to figure out how the kobalds had built something this large so quickly. Running his mental probe over the surface of the black rock, he saw exactly what he¡¯d expected to see. The entire thing was an essence construct, just like the mud walls. But, he had absolutely no idea how they¡¯d actually built it. The idea that something this big came from a spell just seemed ludicrous to him. But, seeing was believing. Using his essence field to take a good look at the towering construct, he noted that despite the obvious spell-formed uniformity, it looked almost like real rock. From what he could tell, it was both obviously not real, and also more real than anything else he could see. While he could destroy reality with a spell, he doubted he could do ANYTHING to the construct. The contradicting nature of the building in front of him was making his head hurt just by looking at it. No matter how carefully he inspected it, he couldn¡¯t find a weak spot. It was like one solid spell construct whose essence was so tightly packed he couldn¡¯t find a way in. Suddenly, he had an epiphany. They must have built this like they did the portal¡­ by exploiting their dead. With all the soul stuff floating around, they¡¯d built the damn thing with ¡®kobald sacrifices¡¯. Even though he knew for a fact that they weren¡¯t actually using souls¡­ it was still creepy as hell, not to mention gruesome to the point of being disgusting. ¡®Yeah, no wonder I¡¯ve been seeing these bastards in my nightmares,¡¯ he thought to himself. After shivering slightly at the memory of the kobald culture, he firmed his shoulders and put his mind toward trying to figure out how to end the bastards. Chapter 201 - Going with the flow. Arch-mage Jennings tapped his chin with his finger, looking both curious and impressed at what he was seeing. ¡°Are you serious? You think he¡¯s absorbing soul remnants? That¡¯s a rather outrageous conclusion to make without evidence,¡± Made-adept Newgate said reproachfully. Shrugging, the arch-mage replied, ¡°Well, we know he¡¯s capable of isolating and utilizing the soul stream. You and I both saw him do it during that portal fiasco. You can¡¯t have forgotten about that spell he used near the end.¡± Gesturing at the large scrying hologram in front of him, he added, ¡°Just look at him. He¡¯s been healing and resuscitating people for hours, and he looks as fresh as was when he stepped out onto the field. It¡¯s the only explanation that fits with the facts.¡± Shaking her head, she replied, ¡°I disagree. We know he¡¯s capable of observing the ethereal plane in a way we don¡¯t fully understand. However, there is a massive difference between isolating and manipulating essence flows directly and interacting with the veil of passing without a ritual or spell to aid him.¡± Waving his hand dismissively, the arch-mage replied, ¡°Bah! Essence flows and the soul stream aren¡¯t all that different. Referring to the separation between ethereal planar harmonies as the ¡®veil of passing¡¯ is beneath a mage of your standing. Religion has a time and place, and neither of them is here or now¡­ not in this tower. None of that ¡®interpretative science¡¯ is welcome within these walls. Leave the general explanations and terms for people who aren¡¯t interested in learning the greater mysteries. Our job is to advance our understanding of the universe, not limit ourselves to the explanations we use to impart understanding to the general citizenry.¡± Mage-adept Newbanks scoffed before replying, ¡°I¡¯m well aware of the science. Of the 7 identified harmonic layers within the ether, the one dealing with the soul is the 3rd. The term ¡®veil of passing¡¯ refers to the impossibility for anything connected to our realm to physically or spiritually interact with the other side of the veil. Granted, it is a colloquial term, but at least it¡¯s descriptive. That aside, the point I was trying to make is that rituals and spells have been known to be able to coax souls back from the other side by calling out to them or demanding their presence, but what you¡¯re positing is that Lord Walker can reach out and pluck soul remnants from the veil as if he were plucking fruit from a tree. THAT is a statement without scientific backing.¡± After taking a moment to think about it, Arch-mage Jennings had to reluctantly agree with her. ¡°Point taken. But I still say he¡¯s performing directed soul manipulation somehow. Just look at what he¡¯s doing. I¡¯m sure you recognize the spells he¡¯s using. They don¡¯t have a single component that could explain what¡¯s happening. And if you factor in how much center is required to make those spells perform like that, you are watching him perform a logical impossibility. But, if we accept that he is siphoning soul remnants to buffer his reserves, then we have to accept that he¡¯s doing it without the aid of a spell or ritual,¡± he said decisively. Before she could reply, the communication orb linked with the Hennings Tower of Magic activated. Realizing that Arch-mage Jennings must have been contacted by someone on the council of mages, she resigned herself to resuming the argument sometime in the future. Mentally making a note, she ensured she would NOT forget. ¡°What is it, Mathers?¡± asked Arch-mage Jennings, sounding rather annoyed at the interruption. Frowning at the abrupt greeting he¡¯d received, Arch-mage Mathers replied, ¡°I just thought you should know, it seems the dwarves have requested to build a city near Dorchester for that initiative the King has been working on.¡± Blinking in confusion, Arch-mage Jennings replied, ¡°Dwarves? Wait, you mean that treaty about opening up the passes into their territory for expansion? I thought that wasn¡¯t supposed to happen for years. And why the hell are they choosing Dorchester of all places? Weren¡¯t we supporting either Carsgille or Manderly for that project?¡± Arch-mage Mathers looked rather pleased to see his fellow arch-mage¡¯s confusion matching his own. ¡°I honestly have no idea how it happened. All we¡¯ve been able to find out so far is that the king¡¯s recent foray into expanding Oglivarch¡¯s influence has resulted in the dwarves petitioning to found a companion city to Dorchester somewhere in the surrounding mountains. I¡¯m guessing they¡¯ll probably take over one of the mining projects. They are large enough to house thousands of dwarves, and would easily work as a base of operations for their city¡¯s construction. But, to be honest, I¡¯m as surprised as you are. I was hoping you had some insight as to how this happened, but I can see that you¡¯re as clueless as I am.¡± Mage-adept Newbanks asked, ¡°Are they going to arrive in time for the fighting?¡± The moment she asked the question, Arch-mage Jennings shot up as if he¡¯d just been poked in the ass. Mumbling loud enough for everyone to hear what he was thinking, he said, ¡°Yes, that makes sense. Dwarves love a good fight. With the recent density shift going on, the region will be experiencing beast tides and incursions by the dozens. While they build their new city, they¡¯ll be able to partake of all the fighting they could want, and still stay safe in their new mountain. But, it can¡¯t be a coincidence¡­ can it?¡± Slamming his hand down on the desk, Arch-mage began laughing his ass off. ¡°He played us. The son of a bitch played us.¡± Looking up into the air, he continued, ¡°Oliver you clever bastard. I¡¯ll give you this one. But, I expect you to continue this game until the end. The Tower of Fate needs to be brought down, and you can bet your crown that I¡¯ll be finding out how you knew Lord Walker was coming.¡± Pausing, he lifted his hand to begin rubbing his chin roughly in thought. ¡°Unless he DIDN¡¯T know. He¡¯s always been one for modifying his schemes during a match. That would explain why he chose this city for the start of his new game. The dwarven embassy was probably put into play before the anomaly even arrived. Oh, that¡¯s clever¡­ but I bet he¡¯s kicking himself for letting the situation get so far out of his control.¡± Turning to Mage-adept Newbanks, he added, ¡°I¡¯m guessing that¡¯s why you¡¯re here. Makes sense I guess. The heavens above know that I can relate.¡± Shocked to her core, Mage-adept Newbanks asked in a whisper, ¡°You knew?¡± Scoffing loudly as if he were insulted. ¡°I have been working alongside you since you got here. It wasn¡¯t all that difficult to figure out. I just didn¡¯t understand why an agent of the crown was bothering to come here. It didn¡¯t make any sense for you to be here for me. I haven¡¯t done anything other than watch over the anomaly. And aside from a few harmless games that maneuvered my charge into interesting situations, you¡¯ve mainly been focusing on the local nobility. You seemed to be working toward the city¡¯s survival, and my anomaly is just one piece in the game for that to happen. Honestly, I didn¡¯t see the point of confronting you about your purpose, as I figured it probably had nothing to do with me.¡± For a few seconds, no one said anything. Then, Arch-mage Mathers shouted, ¡°Would one of you please explain what the hell you two are talking about?¡± ¡ª-- Nero had known since he was a kid that assaulting a fortified location was supposed to be difficult. Between stories, TV shows, games, and documentaries, he had thought he had a solid understanding of the subject. Castles, walls, boiling oil, archers firing from above¡­ he knew all about it. But seeing it in person was something else altogether. The kobald¡¯s tower was strong enough to resist spellfire, and apparently, the army forgot to bring their cannons. So, like idiots, they were relying on the troops to fight their way in. All in all, it turned out to be a viable plan as the tight spaces forced the kobalds to fight the humans without mob tactics coming into play. That wasn¡¯t to say that the humans weren¡¯t taking casualties. Without anything else to do at the moment, Nero healed who he could. Occasionally he even ressutated whomever was being rushed back to the healers. With the soul stuff in the ether, he didn¡¯t have to worry about stressing his center, so he barely paid attention to what he was doing. Before long, injured troops were being diverted to his position so they didn¡¯t have to head all the way to the back of the formation. One after another, troops were put in front of him. Men and women with slashes, bites, stabs, burns, some with one or two missing limbs. There really wasn¡¯t much an overpowered healing spell couldn¡¯t handle. While the casters around him kept up the shield, the troops who saw him doing his healing decided to set up a small area for him. Maybe it was the sense of camaraderie in the air, but he quickly forgot that everyone around him was most likely a criminal. Since the few healing spell forms he knew focused on different things, namely internal organs vs. muscle and tissue damage, Nero got very good, very quickly at the few spells he knew. Every time he cast one, his mind was inundated with information about the injury and what needed to be done to fix it. The more he cast the spells, the faster he was able to interpret how the injured body wanted to be fixed. As time went on, he felt like he was participating in the process less and less. He felt like a conduit funneling essence at the direction of the patient¡¯s identity. It knew better than him how the body was supposed to look. If you stumble upon this tale on Amazon, it''s taken without the author''s consent. Report it. His little slice of the battlefield wasn¡¯t all that nice, but at least it was peaceful. The area they set up for him consisted of a foldable table that someone pulled out from their personal space along with some bloody rags that were acting as a makeshift mattress. Nobody seemed to care about hygiene because¡­ well¡­ magic. His little 10 ft square area of open space was ringed with troops waiting for their turn to head into the tunnel of death. Like the last stop for gas before entering the tower, he stood out. So, while Nero could feel them all watching him work, he assumed they were just bored and he was the only entertainment they had available. Of course, that didn¡¯t stop him from getting tired of the monotony. While all these thoughts were bouncing around in his head, he leaned over and put his hands on the chest of the dead guy in front of him. Quickly carving out the resuscitation spell form, he dove into the guy''s soul space and yanked him back from the great beyond. Like usual, his presence was being bolstered by the soul stuff in the air, so he stuck around long enough to offer the guy¡¯s soul a pat on the back and a smile before returning to his own body. As usual, the guy gasped and started crying out his thanks as if Nero had just saved his life. Which¡­ he technically had¡­ so, it was understandable albeit kind of annoying. Gently pushing the sobbing man off him, he pat him on the back and tried to offer the poor man a supportive smile. ¡®After spending the afternoon healing people in the middle of an active combat zone, the blood and guts are barely noticeable anymore. I guess you really can get used to anything. Although, I could really use a bathroom break,¡¯ he thought to himself as he watched some soldiers lead the no-longer-dead guy away. The next customer hopped up on the table and offered Nero his left arm¡­ or in this case ¡®stump¡¯. Sighing, Nero started with the basic healing spell that would connect him to the guy¡¯s body. He knew for a fact there were better spells he could be using, but he had no idea what they were. Part of his mind filled up with a picture of the guy''s various cuts and bruises, and Nero flooded the spell with soul stuff filtered through his center. One by one, he watched as the trouble areas vanished from his perception until only the stump remained. As he worked on the guy, he thought about how weird it was that the soul stuff was so easy to grab out of the ether once he looked for it. It was like everyone else¡¯s essence fields just weren¡¯t capable of interacting with it. He knew it was part of the ether like the rest of the essence flows, but unlike everything else, it was flowing freely without any connection to anyone else around him. Well, there was a slight direction to the soul stuff¡¯s flow. He could see that it was slowly wafting toward the kobald¡¯s tower. It was like there was a magnet in the middle of the tower that was exerting a weak pull on the soul stuff. ¡®It¡¯s probably another one of those stone ritual tablet things,¡¯ he guessed. As he wasn¡¯t sure exactly how the limb replacement spell form was supposed to look, he went with what he was familiar with. First, he overpowered a bone healing spell meant for internal breaks. The result was the stump quickly growing a new bone hand and causing the guy to stare down at his limb in panic. Nero, who was now all too familiar with the response, didn¡¯t bother to reassure the guy, and instead just moved on to step two. He switched over to a tissue-fixing spell he never bothered to learn the name of, as he had simply copied it from the healers who¡¯d constantly healed during his training with Cathleen. The guy just held up his bone hand in confusion as more and more flesh crawled up the new appendage and became a fleshy, skinless hand. Nero had already mentally been preparing for the last step, which was a basic healing spell for trauma. Fatty tissue appeared before the layers of skin and other connective tissue filled out and redistributed the flesh he¡¯d made. Nero even took the time to grow the guy some new nails and arm hair¡­ he was pretty proud of himself for figuring out how to do that. Letting go of the guy''s shoulder he was using as a focus point for his spells, he said, ¡°You¡¯re all set. Break¡¯s over soldier. Thank you for coming, hope you don¡¯t need to come back. Happy lizard killing.¡± Leaning around the guy to see his next patient, he shouted, ¡°NEXT!¡± On and on it went until finally he noticed that the back of the formation had caught up with him. He frowned at the realization that most of the wackos had left him behind to go and storm the proverbial castle. All around him, healers were taking over his waiting patients, and he felt the essence in the air begin to WANT to help him with his spells. It was another piece of the puzzle, and it helped him understand that the communal sense of healing was influencing the ether. It was like he¡¯d changed units in a game, and was now able to cast group-appropriate spells. Of course, that immediately led him to wonder what a dedicated group of war casters would look like, and if they all worked together to cast some big-ass team spells that could decimate enemies from range. ¡®Maybe those unit designations unlock after the town level¡¯s up?¡¯ he thought to himself with a smirk. ¡®This world is so freaking crazy. It¡¯s like the only way it makes sense is when it''s treated like a game, but the rules of reality make it JUST plausible enough to forget how totally stupid that is.¡¯ Rather than stay with the healers, Nero decided to go and find the rest of his wackos. After all, the only ones still outside the tower were the ones helping maintain the shield. Looking over at Greg¡­ or maybe Bruce¡­ he said, ¡°Hey man, I¡¯m going to go head in. Thanks for keeping the shield up and keeping an eye out.¡± The wacko who¡¯d been next to Nero for most of the battle smiled and replied, ¡°Of course, my lord. We¡¯ll be right behind you after we establish a forward position inside the base. I have to say, what you did was incredible. I¡¯ve never heard of someone so young being capable of both war casting and healing like that. It¡¯s truly an honor to follow you.¡± Nero blinked a few times, trying to keep his face from showing his confusion. Mentally reminding himself to ask Nick to interpret what the guy was talking about, Nero used his ¡®manager¡¯s¡¯ voice to reply, ¡°The honor is mine. You and the others are just as responsible for keeping us all safe. We¡¯re all in this together. No man is an island¡­ and all that. I¡¯ll be sure to talk to you later. Peace¡­ I mean, WAR!¡± After his awkward goodbye, Nero slipped between the troops and made his way into the tunnel they¡¯d cleared. ¡®If recent history is anything to go by, I probably did something weird again that will end up complicating my life in new and exciting ways,¡¯ he mentally complained. Once inside the tower, Nero ducked and dodged in between the troops who were slowly moving forward, trying to guess which direction he should go to find the wackos. He found the interior just as plain as the exterior, except for the fact that there were some kind of hovering globes of fire along the ceiling for light. The tunnels themselves were made of the same black spellstone but were rounded and rough like a cave. There weren¡¯t exactly twists and turns, so he was able to figure out the general layout without much difficulty. As he walked through one of the areas that opened up into what could charitably called a room, he saw troops collecting quick meals with ration bars while waiting in line for something. Ducking his head into the room, he saw men and women using what looked like a trench to ¡®do their business¡¯. Sighing, he joined the small line and psyched himself up for a public display of his unavoidable bodily functions. ¡®Of course, kobald¡¯s adopted the stadium design for public bathrooms. They¡¯re really going out of their way to alleviate any guilt I felt for wiping them out,¡¯ he thought sourly while nibbling on a ration bar of his own. After handling his business, he was back on the hunt. The tower was like a big cylinder, an irregularly shaped big cylinder, but a cylinder nonetheless. Inside there were layers of circles with random slopes leading off toward the upper levels. The uniform tunnels bled together and made the place feel like a maze. But luckily, there were plenty of human troops around who were pushing ever closer toward the center. However, he still ended up having no idea where the rest of his wackos were, let alone Captain Angleton, Cathleen, Nick, or anyone else he might recognize. He¡¯d tried using his link to contact them, but apparently, the spellstone was interfering with the battle hub. Or possibly they were out of range? Maybe the battle hub itself was left with the rest of the army. As usual, his unfamiliarity with the local technology made his theories pointless. It didn¡¯t really matter, the point was¡­ he was lost. Interrupting a group of soldiers making their way forward, Nero asked, ¡°Hey, you guys know where you¡¯re going?¡± The woman next to the man he¡¯d asked stepped forward, ¡°We¡¯re heading back to rejoin our unit. What division are you with? Did you get separated from your team?¡± He wasn¡¯t sure, but he thought the woman sounded a little suspicious of him for some reason. Nero activated his ¡®bullshit¡¯ ability and replied, ¡°I was misplaced after a rough resuscitation. I¡¯m unable to contact my superior over my link. Do you have access to the battle hub?¡± The woman frowned and replied, ¡°Our assault forces left our battle hubs behind. Who¡¯s your superior officer?¡± Nero didn¡¯t hesitate to respond, ¡°Captain Angleton. I¡¯ve been training and serving with the elites.¡± The woman¡¯s eyes widened in surprise. ¡°Well, that explains your age I guess. From what I understand, the elites are the soldiers most likely to advance regardless of time served. But I¡¯m not sure who Captain Angleton is. This section is under the command of Captain Nellis. If you¡¯d like, you can tag along with us and I¡¯m sure the Captain will have an idea of what you should do next.¡± Nero looked up and down the uniform tunnel, the dark stone barely being lit up by the hovering flames along the ceiling. As far as he could tell, one way was as good as another. ¡°That sounds good I guess. Lead away ma¡¯am,¡± he said while gesturing toward where they were headed before he stopped them. As per the socially freakish culture, she didn¡¯t bother to say anything before resuming the quick march forward. Shaking his head in amusement, Nero joined up near the back of the 20 or 30-troop group and followed along. And after a few turns, he said to himself, ¡®Well, at least it looks like she knows where she¡¯s going.¡¯ As he watched a cart filled with kobald corpses go by, he turned to the woman walking alongside him and asked, ¡°So, come here often?¡± Life had once again provided him with a bunch of questions, and he might as well get a few answers before things went to hell again. Chapter 202 - The grunt life. Cathleen Averett felt the rush of battle subside as she took a deep drink from her canteen. She ran her eyes over the troops, subtly judging them on how well they were holding up. ¡®They¡¯re not as weak as I thought they¡¯d be,¡¯ she thought to herself. Although she would never admit it, she owed the little lord a thank you. Fighting a war, as a battle leader no less, had been a dream of hers since she was a little girl. Her brothers and sisters are currently serving across Dorchester, several on the frontlines of the war with Islangurs. But, she knew herself well enough to know she¡¯d hate being a soldier on the line like them. But, here, now, she was the one in charge¡­ and it was glorious. She¡¯d known for a while that Nero Walker was someone special, and her family had agreed to let her mentor him. They hoped that she¡¯d do her duty and ensure that Lord Walker was joined to their family. That was why she was in Dorchester after all. The Averett¡¯s hadn¡¯t become one of the premier families in the kingdom without scouting the best prospects. But, she didn¡¯t need to think about that now. There would be plenty of time in the future to introduce the little lord to eligible family members. All the while helping him become the war god he was meant to be. Looking toward the current battle line, she felt herself crack a small smile at the sight of kobald bodies being dragged away. Even with the occasional casualty, her forces were performing exceptionally well. She¡¯d worried that her unproven troops would have issues once they forced their way into the kobald¡¯s fortifications. Luckily, they had adapted quickly. After some hard fighting, they¡¯d managed to clear out several hallways and were now spreading through the building like poison, killing anything and everything in their way. Soon, they¡¯d meet up with the other human forces and make the final push into the center. In the corner of her senses, she felt Academian Quincy release the essence-cloaking technique he¡¯d been using. Turning her head slowly, she looked up at him and asked, ¡°Where is Lord Walker?¡± Academian Quincy shook his head in amusement at her lack of reaction. He should have known that a woman of her background wouldn¡¯t have trouble seeing through his cloak. Maybe Lord Walker was actually blessed by the gods to have found a woman like Cathleen Averett. ¡°He¡¯s just outside the entrance. Don¡¯t worry, we¡¯re keeping an eye on him¡­ not that he needs it,¡± he replied. Cocking her head to the side, she said nothing while making it clear that he¡¯d better elaborate. Holding up his hands in mock surrender, he continued, ¡°You know the young man. He is incapable of doing nothing. When the forward progress of the formation slowed down and he no longer had anything to test his spells on, he started acting as a war healer.¡± Raising a singular eyebrow in surprise, she asked, ¡°Really? I wasn¡¯t aware that he¡¯d been trained to cast under those conditions.¡± Chuckling, Academian Quincy said, ¡°I don¡¯t think he was. To be honest, we¡¯re not really sure how he¡¯s doing it. The prevailing theory is that he¡¯s somehow repurposing soul remnants into his center. He is -¡± Interrupting him, Cathleen¡¯s harsh voice demanded, ¡°And you haven¡¯t stopped him? Are you mad? I was under the impression that you were here to help guide him, not just sit by and report the particulars of how he killed himself!¡± Stepping in front of her to stop her from storming off, Academian Quincy quickly said, ¡°Calm down and listen! He¡¯s fine! In fact, he¡¯s better than fine. We¡¯ve been watching closely. He¡¯s showing no signs of identity decay. His center is his own, and seems stronger than ever. There are no signs of undeath or possession. His mind is completely unaffected. Like I said, we¡¯re not sure how he¡¯s doing what he¡¯s doing. If you think about it, it¡¯s actually rather fascinating.¡± Rather than pushing past him, Cathleen paused for a moment to look up at the man skeptically. ¡°That¡­ seems unlikely.¡± Outright laughing at her statement, Academian Quincy replied, ¡°You think THAT¡¯S unlikely? We were able to watch as he, on his own, destabilized fortified essence constructs that the kobalds had prepared.¡± Taking a step back in surprise, Cathleen asked in a surprised voice, ¡°That was him!?! I thought the constructs were just poorly made.¡± Smiling widely, he replied, ¡°Not as far as we could tell. Idrius is good at ether monitoring, and she swears that she watched Lord Walker¡¯s perception focus on the walls before they failed. Once could be a coincidence, but she saw it happen multiple times. There is no doubt he was responsible.¡± Choosing not to focus on the impossibility of what she was hearing, she changed the subject. ¡°Well, we¡¯re about ready to push forward. We need to bring him and whoever is still outside into the halls. Go out there and tell him to hurry it up.¡± Shaking his head, he said, ¡°He doesn¡¯t know we¡¯re there. And besides, you don¡¯t necessarily need him with you. I¡¯d like to see how long he can keep up the healing. Hopefully, we can determine how he¡¯s actively casting when the ether is so chaotic. Although we¡¯ve seen him discovering how to actively war-cast, for some reason, he isn¡¯t using the technique anymore. By our count, he¡¯s already resuscitated 36 people and healed over 200 more without showing any signs of straining his center. It¡¯s nothing short of remarkable.¡± Cathleen stood there in stunned confusion. She knew for a fact that Lord Walker wasn¡¯t even level 20. What the academian was saying simply wasn¡¯t possible. Rubbing his chin in thought, Academian Quincy ignored the look on Cathleen¡¯s face and continued, ¡°I¡¯m going to see how long he keeps it up. Besides, he¡¯s using tier one healing spells to regrow limbs and I want to figure out how he¡¯s doing it. You go on and enjoy the war. We¡¯ll keep an eye on him.¡± Not knowing what to say, Cathleen nodded numbly before turning around and walking away. There was no point worrying about the little lord, he could take care of himself. And it wasn¡¯t like the evaluators would let anything happen to their science experiment anyway. ¡ª-- Nero was surprised to find how positively ¡®chatty¡¯ the soldiers could be. The moment he joined the small column, he¡¯d asked a few simple questions to curb their curiosity about where he¡¯d come from. In response, he¡¯d learned more over the past ten minutes than he¡¯d had in all the conversations he¡¯d had with Nick since he¡¯d arrived. ¡®These simple folk are my people,¡¯ he thought to himself. The woman walking alongside him had responded to his simple question concerning the battle hub with actual USEFUL information. She¡¯d said, ¡°The battle hub? Oh, they aren¡¯t brought into forward combat zones. Leadership is supposed to handle their own communications when we¡¯re on the attack.¡± A few more questions had Nero learning about all kinds of things he¡¯d been wondering about. First, there was the battle hub, which turned out to be nothing more than the fantasy equivalent of a mobile cell network. It was a massive crystal contraption that was mounted on a giant wagon. It worked like a private military network so commanders could coordinate their defenses and aid in the organization of supplies. When on the offensive, it wasn¡¯t practical to drag them along. Which of course led to the explanation for what the leadership used instead. Without the battle hub, the people in charge had to keep relatively close to each other so that they could communicate through private connections like the ones Nick had shown him. That in and of itself explained why units were kept relatively small. That then led to a basic explanation of the military¡¯s command structure. At the top was the city¡¯s general, which was an elected position in Dorchester. As all officers were knights, a bunch of people up at the knight¡¯s fortress were responsible for choosing who¡¯d represent them. To Nero, it sounded like a bunch of warrior monks crossed with knights templar. Below the general, there was the command staff. They were creatively called commanders. Apparently, there were tons of them, and were more or less the bureaucratic arm of the military. They didn¡¯t fight and were instead responsible for strategy and organization. The woman explained how there were many types of commanders, and they all had their own titles. Gate ¡®blah blah blah¡¯ Supply Commander, Training Coordination Commander, Field Commander, etc. All of whom were referred to as commanders, while the automated translation magic took care of the details. It worked the same with the next rung of the hierarchal ladder¡­ the captains. They were the lowest rank of the knights and the entry into the ranks of leadership. The woman made it clear that not all captains were the same, and there was a strict command structure that needed to be adhered to. However, as a grunt like her, he didn¡¯t need to worry about it. Then came the sergeants, which was the highest rank a common soldier to rise to unless they were willing to train to be a knight. They served under captains and were the ones who actually interacted with the common soldiers. According to her, it was the most respected position as they had to balance politics with good sense¡­ which was something knights had beaten out of them during their training. Nero enjoyed listening to her babbling and found her comrades continually correcting her hilarious. There was no history lesson or greater meaning in what she was saying. It was simply a factual breakdown of things he was only roughly familiar with. She even gave a really quick breakdown of how to refer to groupings. In general, ¡®units¡¯ could mean anything from a 5-man team to an entire platoon or division. It boiled down to ¡®unit¡¯ being a term for deployment. For example, ¡®Take your unit and go attack that hill over there¡¯ meant that whoever was in charge should take whoever was under them and go. When someone asked, ¡®What unit are you with?¡¯ they were asking who you were deployed under, not your immediate superior. Like everything in this world, it was both super simple and super complicated. ¡®They really do take the translation magic for granted here. Subtext is simply part of their language,¡¯ he thought to himself. It shouldn¡¯t have surprised him that the command structure relied on translation magic to cover the details. It saved time and kept things from getting too confusing. Of course, without the relevant information to understand it, all he¡¯d been hearing was the basic designations for someone¡¯s rank and various synonyms regarding troop deployment. Not that he¡¯d been listening all that closely to hear the subtle distinctions anyway, but that was neither here nor there. All of that information took only a few minutes to explain, and Nero couldn¡¯t help but mentally curse Nick for his overly wordy lecturing style. Right as he was about to learn more about service terms and how people signed up for the military, they unfortunately got to their destination. Everyone quieted down as they made their way into a large room filled with soldiers going about their various tasks. Some were distributing food and supplies, others were taking a seat and having a breather. He noticed that a bunch of them were stacking dead kobalds onto carts using telekinetic abilities. Interspersed throughout the room were healers going around trying to help who they could. From what he could tell, the healers seemed to be struggling to stabilize people before the injured were led back through the halls so they could get to the actual field hospital. Rather than jump in himself, he decided to hold back and see what else he might get up to. ¡®They look like they have it handled¡­ more or less,¡¯ he reassured himself. This story has been stolen from Royal Road. If you read it on Amazon, please report it Staying with the group, he followed along until the sergeant he¡¯d talked to reported to the resident captain. Saluting with a fist to her chest, she said, ¡°Captain Nellis, We¡¯re back to full strength and ready to be redeployed. But, before that, we ran across a lost elite.¡± Gesturing toward Nero, she waved him over. Stepping up, Nero looked up at the man and said, ¡°Captain, sorry to trouble you, but I seem to have misplaced my unit. I need to find Captain Angleton if that helps narrow it down for you.¡± Captain Nellis didn¡¯t seem all that interested in helping, and instead of answering the implied question said, ¡°For now, just stay with Sergeant Borgin¡¯s team. We¡¯ll probably meet up with your unit when we breach the inner defenses. You can rejoin them then.¡± Without another word, the man turned to the woman who¡¯d allowed him to tag along. ¡°Sergeant Borgin, you¡¯re to take over the push into the hallway on the right. The moment you find a hallway leading to the left, I want you to hold it and request reinforcements. We should be getting close, and we don¡¯t want them breaking out.¡± ¡°Understood, Sir. Consider it done,¡± she said before turning around and addressing her 20-troop team¡­ well 21 including Nero. While the loose column of troops came to attention, Sergeant Borgin shouted, ¡°You heard the captain! I want a 5 wide formation heading into the hallway. Make sure to leave room on the sides to let whoever we¡¯re relieving get past. Keep your heads down and shields ready. Call out any ranged attacks the moment you see them and don¡¯t get the people behind you killed. Let¡¯s move it people!¡± Nero took his place in the back, excited to get back into the battle. Healing was fun and all, but getting in on the action was what he¡¯d come out here for in the first place. Being an adventurer was about putting himself out there and staring death in the face while laughing. Reaching into his personal space, he pulled out a buckler and readied the sword on his hip. Looking up at the ceiling, he lamented the fact that there wasn¡¯t going to be a shield protecting him this time. As they made their way through the wide hallways, he watched as injured troops and dead kobalds were dragged back to the room they¡¯d just left. Up ahead, he could already hear the fighting. Between the hisses and screeching kobalds, he could hear humans shouting orders and the sound of clashing metal. His heart began to speed up and his palms began to sweat. ¡®I¡¯m never going to get tired of this feeling,¡¯ he told himself as his face involuntarily began grinning. Spreading out his senses, he felt around the essence flows to get an idea of what he had to work with. Like before, he could feel the ambient essence beginning to become more chaotic and unusable the closer they got to the fighting. It was already difficult to work with, but now it was becoming impossible. He didn¡¯t want to rely on the combat casting he was doing before if he was going to be in melee, so he decided to form his mage armor. Spreading out his senses, he felt the walls trying to disrupt his grip. He couldn¡¯t even ¡®see¡¯ what was happening outside of the hallway he was in, but he could tell that the essence out there was still there for the taking. Copying what he had done before, he grabbed what he could and collapsed it into his essence shield. Letting his center percolate through the collected essence, he imbued the edge with a film dedicated to his protection. He felt the ¡®spell¡¯ snap into place and a section of his mind dedicated itself to its upkeep. All the practice he¡¯d done came together in a symphony of skills that made the process painless. At worst, it felt like he¡¯d picked up something heavy and was dedicating part of his attention to making sure he didn¡¯t trip. By the time he was done, they had arrived. The frontline took over from whoever was there, and they spread out to two rows of ten, filling the hallway. The troops they¡¯d replaced took a breather behind them. All in all, there must have been more than 50 or 60 humans crowding the hallway. In front of him, his essence field showed him the kobald forces. Stretching down the hallway, there were hundreds of the little buggers with some of the taller ones interspersed throughout the horde. He didn¡¯t see any shamans, but he assumed they were there and just too difficult to make out. The essence in the ether felt stretched and under tension. There was a distinct feeling of ¡®wanting to kill¡¯ pressing down on him, and it was setting his teeth on edge. Slipping into the front of the formation, Nero took over one of the melee positions and began crossing swords with the kobalds directly. He used his buckler to blunt attacks before countering, easily cutting down whoever was in front of him. Block, slash, step, lean, counter, step, etc. On and on it went. Every step forward left kobalds under his feet as he and the rest of his new party pushed forward. While his body went through the motions, his mind concentrated on staying focused. Yet, intrusive thoughts continued to try and distract him. ¡®I should have asked for their names,¡¯ he thought to himself as he went over the conversation he had with the chatty soldier and her friends. But, as the battle progressed, he was able to keep it together. While the soldiers around him continued to cycle out after taking some small injuries, his mage armor protected him. Every once in a while, he¡¯d knock back the kobald in front of him to gain a few seconds so he could replenish his essence reserves. As his center began to deplete, he didn¡¯t even think before replenishing it with the soul potential floating all around him. The battle became a haze of blood and gore, and his focus became more and more precise as the seconds turned into minutes and then possibly into hours. Time became a hazy concept. He felt his muscles began to burn while his movements slowly became more labored. Suddenly, he felt himself being yanked back by his armor. The last thing he saw before being swung around was another soldier taking his place. Panting heavily, his eyes struggled to focus on Sergeant Borgin staring down at him. ¡°Snap out of it soldier! Take a rest and focus on recentering yourself.¡± He let himself be led away from the fighting before being propped up against a wall. Letting his arms hang down at his sides, his grip on his sword began to weaken. Almost as if he¡¯d done it a thousand times before, he resheathed his weapon without even thinking about it. Another quick mental gesture had his beaten and battered shield back in his personal space. Looking around, he realized the hallway they were in was distinctly different than the one he¡¯d begun fighting in. The fires along the ceiling were closer together, and the black spell stone walls now looked more like cave walls than castle walls. Had they made it into the tunnels and he hadn¡¯t noticed? Using his field, he took a closer look at the wall he was leaning against. He ran his hand over the rough stone to aid his mental focus. While it looked like a cave wall, he could tell that it was all part of the same spell construction that made up the rest of the tower. ¡®We must be much closer to the center,¡¯ he concluded. From what he could sense, it was like whatever was creating the construct was slowly pushing updates throughout the tower. If enough time passed, and with enough deaths, the entire tower would end up looking like this. ¡®They really are a fucked up species, aren¡¯t they. How could they use their own dead as construction materials,¡¯ he wondered in disgust. ¡°You doing alright there little man?¡± a voice asked from his right, breaking him out of his thoughts. Looking up, he saw the chatty woman he¡¯d spoken with before. For some reason, he felt glad that she wasn¡¯t dead. ¡°I¡¯m good. You look like you could use a shower and a break yourself,¡± he said with a smile. Returning his smile, she gave his shoulder a friendly squeeze before replying, ¡°Yeah, for a simple-minded invasive species like the kobalds, they do put up quite the fight. But hey, from what I hear, we¡¯re almost at the tunnel entrance. Depending on what we find, I¡¯m guessing we¡¯ll either blow it or temporarily seal it so we can use it as another ingress point.¡± Nodding along, he watched as she used a wet cloth to wipe the blood off her face. As difficult as it was to judge ages in this world, he couldn¡¯t help but wonder how old she was. Before he could broach the subject, the chatty woman said, ¡°Alright, I¡¯m going to meditate for a bit and calm down my center. You should too if you can. Who knows when we¡¯ll have another chance.¡± Nero stopped himself from interrupting her and watched helplessly as she walked off and took a seat along the wall. Shaking his head at the awkward thoughts in his head, he closed his eyes and leaned back against the cold stone wall. Taking a deep breath, he was about to sink into himself when he felt the briefest brush of a request for a connection. Frowning in confusion, he tried to see who was trying to contact him. The mental probe was so faint that he couldn¡¯t figure out who it was. With a shrug, he reached out and stabilized the connection. As he wasn¡¯t sure what would happen if the connection was an attack, he cautiously held the connection with the metaphorical tips of his mental fingers, ready and waiting to drop it if it turned out to be a threat. But, the moment the connection stabilized, he recognized Nick¡¯s mental presence. Grabbing onto the connection firmly, he reached out and solidified it. The moment he did, he heard Nick shout, ¡°Where are you? Are you alright? Cathleen said that you were with the healers. What are you doing in the tower?¡± Nero felt some of the tension in his muscles release as he heard his nerdy friend ranting. He could practically picture the man standing there with his hands on his hips and a furious scowl on his face. ¡°I¡¯m fine, Nick. Calm down. I couldn¡¯t find you guys, so I went with whoever was heading toward the action. It¡¯s no big deal. Besides, I¡¯m sure you have been having your own fun. Where are you by the way? How are you contacting me through the walls?¡± he asked. Nero felt Nick sigh through the connection. ¡°Nero, spell constructs are only difficult to directly penetrate. Alter your perception field to ignore them and you can see through them pretty easily. It¡¯s just a matter of essence filtration and interference mitigation. Considering your natural talents in essence identification and general ethereal perception, you shouldn¡¯t have any issues figuring it out.¡± Nero dropped his head in defeat. Although he wouldn¡¯t trade his friendship with Nick for anything, it was impossible to get used to the man¡¯s lecturing tone and incomprehensible gibberish. ¡°Just tell me where you are so I can come over there and smack you,¡± he demanded. Nero felt Nick¡¯s amusement over the connection. ¡°Head back away from the fighting then take the first two lefts, then an immediate right. Go past three doors on your left, then take the next left. That¡¯s where we are. By the way, how did you get lost? We registered with the sergeant at the end of the first hallway under the unit designation ¡®Walker¡¯s Wackos¡¯. What designation did you try to use?¡± he asked. Nero heard the word ¡®Sergeant¡¯ but understood that he meant ¡®Coordination Sergeant¡¯. In awe of the nuance of the magic, he wondered if one day he could somehow use it to directly learn stuff from Nick¡¯s lectures. For example, could Nick say, ¡®Create the spell form¡¯ and Nero would get an idea of how the spell form should be carved. ¡®That would be both freaky and overpowered,¡¯ he thought to himself. Shaking off the pointless line of thought, Nero replied, ¡°Nobody told me about a coordination sergeant, so I didn¡¯t ask. And before you say anything¡­ don¡¯t¡­ just don¡¯t. I¡¯ll be along shortly and you can rant and rave about me not reading whatever it is I should have read when I get there.¡± Nero felt Nick bristle a bit, then heard him reply, ¡°Very well. We¡¯ll be here.¡± Feeling the connection thin a little, Nero could tell that Nick had pushed it to the back of his mind. Copying him, Nero felt his side of the connection slip into the background noise in his head. ¡®Cool,¡¯ he thought. After taking a quick glance at the cute, chatty woman who was currently in meditation, Nero walked up to Sergeant Borgin. The sergeant was coordinating replacements along the lines, and pointing at various places that needed to be reinforced. Waiting for the right time to interrupt, he said, ¡°Sergeant, I just wanted to let you know that my unit contacted me, and they¡¯re nearby. So, I¡¯m going to go reunite with them.¡± Nodding quickly, the sergeant replied, ¡°Understood. You were a credit to your training while you were here. It¡¯s no wonder you made it into the elites.¡± The sergeant turned away, seemingly done with the conversation. Taking a breath, Nero interrupted her again, ¡°Sergeant, sorry, but one last thing. Could you let that woman over there know where I went? She was kind enough to answer a few questions for me, and I don¡¯t want her to worry.¡± The sergeant barely glanced at where Nero was pointing before replying, ¡°Will do.¡± and then returned to what she was doing. Walking away, Nero looked over his shoulder and thought about his brief time with the chatty woman and the rest of the unit. In a way, it was like a little break from the life of a noble and all the crap that came along with it. It was nice to be one of the common folks. For a moment, he let the thought of what his life could be like if he had made different choices percolate in his mind. He could fight alongside some good-looking women, earning his daily wages and spending his weekends in the pub. Over time, he might end up having a few kids and buying a house. In his mind, he imagined a basic but good, normal life. But there was no magic¡­ no real adventure. Letting the daydream slip away, Nero walked down the hallway with a renewed sense of purpose. He was a mage in the making and the Walker in ¡®Walker¡¯s Wackos¡¯. He already had the life he wanted, and he be damned if he gave it all up to be ordinary. Stuttering to a stop, he thought, ¡®Now, Nick said it was two lefts, then a right, then past 3 left, and then another right? No¡­ that wasn¡¯t it¡­¡¯ Chapter 203 - Too little too late. Finally able to take a break, Mike put his hands behind his head and tried to catch his breath. Looking around, he saw that he wasn¡¯t the only one having trouble with the pace the battle leader was setting. ¡®That tiny woman is a monster,¡¯ he thought with a smile. Neither he nor anyone else was complaining though. As a group, they were making their way through the kobald¡¯s fortification faster than the army, and there was a strong sense of accomplishment in the air. Even though they were nothing more than penal conscripts, they were outperforming seasoned veterans. It was amazing. All around him, he could see people grinning and complimenting each other. More than a few times, he¡¯d heard people pledging their lifelong friendship toward the person fighting next to them. Everyone was supporting each other, making sure that no one was left to die. There was an overwhelming feeling of invincibility as long as they stayed together. He¡¯d never felt anything like it in his entire life. Even when he was out hunting in the wilds with his party, he¡¯d always had one eye open, looking for the inevitable betrayal from the rest of the party. After all, he wouldn¡¯t have trouble leaving one of them to die if it saved his life, so why wouldn¡¯t they do the same to him? But here¡­ now¡­ it felt like he was part of something. He was one of Lord Walker¡¯s Wackos, and together they could do anything. Watching Lord Walker recklessly throw himself into battle to save people he¡¯d never met, defying orders to let them die, and spending his center like water to heal whoever was put in front of him was nothing short of an inspiration. As he was lost in his thoughts, he was caught off guard when a strong voice filled the large room they were resting in. ¡°You might not realize what you¡¯ve accomplished here today. But, you should all be proud of yourselves,¡± stated the larger-than-life Captain Angleton. The 50 or 60 people in the room all looked up from what they were doing and paid attention. The Captain had stepped up onto a table in the center of the room so everyone could see him. It was rather unnecessary as he was already nearly seven feet tall, and now with the table, his head was nearly at the ceiling. ¡®If the kobalds are so short, then why the high ceilings?¡¯ he wondered before remembering the few giant kobald variants he¡¯d faced. Shaking off the random thought, he focused on what the captain was saying. ¡°Your team leaders might not have told you, but Command has asked¡­ ASKED¡­ us to slow down our progress because the other sections are having trouble keeping up. I¡¯ve been serving Dorchester for decades and I¡¯ve never seen anything like it,¡± he shouted. Looking down as if he were choosing his words carefully, he continued, ¡°Over the years, I¡¯ve seen men and women hurl themselves into danger to protect the soldier standing next to them. I¡¯ve seen people sacrifice themselves for the greater good, trusting that what they were doing served a greater purpose. But for the most part, I¡¯ve seen people trying to survive whatever horrible situation they found themselves in.¡± The room was silent. Everyone was listening closely to what he was saying. With a hard look on his face, the captain ran his eyes across the room seemingly meeting the eyes of every single person in the room. ¡°You all have spent the last few hours protecting each other with a zeal that leaves me astounded. We haven¡¯t lost a single soldier. Our lines haven¡¯t faltered. Every engagement with the enemy has been a complete and total victory. More than a few of you have died, but you didn¡¯t let that stop you. You came right back and demanded more! If I didn¡¯t know for a fact that you were all penal conscripts, I¡¯d have thought I was fighting alongside the best Dorchester had to offer,¡± he declared proudly. ¡°It¡¯s an honor and a privilege to fight alongside you. For now, take advantage of this time. Fill your stomachs. Rehydrate. Meditate. Soon, Lord Walker will be joining us again and we¡¯ll be heading back into the fray,¡± he finished simply before hopping off the table. One of the men called out, ¡°I thought the lord was staying with the healers? Most of us he¡¯s already patched up once or twice, even brought a few of us back from the dead. So, why¡¯s he joining the fighting now?¡± Mike unconsciously nodded along to the question as he was wondering the same thing. He¡¯d personally seen Lord Walker heal several people who had been dragged away from the fighting. It was amazing to see. The captain seemed to smirk as if the question somehow amused him. ¡°From what I understand. The little lord felt the other units were taking too long and decided to help them out. Over the command web, they are saying he personally led the charge a few hallways over and broke through the kobald¡¯s defenses. I can¡¯t be sure, but I think he was making sure that we¡¯d have support for when we reached the center. Now that we¡¯ve stopped pushing and are waiting for the rest of the army to catch up, he¡¯s coming back to make sure we¡¯re alright.¡± Mike nodded in agreement. To him, that made sense. From what he¡¯d learned of Lord Walker, the crazy bastard would face down a dragon if it meant protecting someone. The man was fearless to the point of madness. ¡®Lord Walker¡¯s Wackos, indeed,¡¯ he thought to himself proudly. ¡ª-- Nero eventually found his way into the section being held by his forces. It did however take a conversation with a woman standing at a T-section with a clipboard¡­ but he¡¯d already forgotten about that. Making his way around a corner, he nearly stumbled when someone shouted, ¡°Lord Walker! You¡¯re here!¡± Looking over at a man he vaguely recognized, he replied, ¡°Yup. I¡¯m here. Nick and Cathleen around?¡± The man was guarding a door alongside a woman who was smiling down at him like he was her favorite nephew. Gesturing into the room through the ten-foot by ten-foot rounded opening, the man replied, ¡°Just through here, my lord. Thank you again for bringing me back. I¡¯m your man for life!¡± Nero paused as if searching the man¡¯s face for something. ¡®I healed this guy?¡¯ he wondered. Trying to sound like he remembered the guy, Nero patted him on the arm and said, ¡°That¡¯s not necessary. I didn¡¯t do it so you owed me anything. We¡¯re all just doing our part to save the city, am I right?¡± Walking away, Nero thought about what he said. ¡®Yeah, that sounded good I think. Very presidential or whatever.¡¯ Making his way through the large room, he saw groups of people eating nutrient bars and refilling their canteens from barrels. The mood seemed a little too festive for an active warzone, but he had nothing to compare it to so he didn¡¯t stress about it. However, he did find it weird how many people were staring at him¡­ Seeing Cathleen speaking with Nick and a few other people, Nero hurried over to talk to her. Along with Captain Angleton and a few sergeants he recognized from the elites, he assumed they were discussing how the battle was going. As he walked up, they all turned to look at him. Nonchalantly waving his hand, he said, ¡°Hey all. How goes the war with the lizards from down under?¡± Cathleen was the first one to speak. ¡°I thought you were supposed to be staying with the healers,¡± she said accusingly. Nero shrugged and replied, ¡°When the rest of them caught up, I didn¡¯t see a reason to stick around. I¡¯d rather be fighting.¡± Captain Angleton¡¯s deep voice sounded like an uncomfortably smooth rockslide. ¡°That may be so, but I for one am grateful for what you did. Many people here wouldn¡¯t be alive if you hadn¡¯t done what you did. Seeing you war healing like that is something none of these men and women will ever forget.¡± Nero did an admirable job of hiding his confusion. ¡°Just doing my part, sir.¡± Turning back to Cathleen, he said, ¡°So, what¡¯s the plan?¡± Standing there like an unamused school principal, Cathleen replied accusingly, ¡°According to Lord Verena you are capable of maintaining a thought connection. So after this after-action report is finished, you¡¯re going to join the unit connection like you should have before we began this fight. Then, if you¡¯re able to, Captain Angleton will walk you through joining the command web. After that, we¡¯ll coordinate with the other captains to finish this.¡± This book is hosted on another platform. Read the official version and support the author''s work. Nero frowned in confusion but didn¡¯t say anything. Instead, he simply replied, ¡°Sounds good. Let me know if you need anything.¡± Cathleen harrumphed before turning away from him and returning to the conversation she was having with Captain Angelton and the rest of the sergeants. Nero subtly caught Nick¡¯s eye and gestured with his chin away from the group. Nick, who was trying to pay attention to the conversation, returned Nero¡¯s look with a frown and a sigh. Not bothering to wait for him, Nero walked away to get some privacy. Nick walked up and said, ¡°Nero, can¡¯t we speak a little later? I wanted to hear how the different units were handling the combination of forces we¡¯ve gathered. The fact that soldiers are successfully fighting alongside caravan guards and penal conscripts is unprecedented. Although it¡¯s not my field, I¡¯m familiar enough with both military doctrine studies and social dynamic observational theory to recognize a unique opportunity when I see one. Do you think that -¡± Nero interrupted him by whisper shouting, ¡°Yeah, Yeah¡­ I get it. Something something science¡­ nerd talk¡­ blah blah blah. Forget about all that for a moment.¡± Annoyed, Nick crossed his arms and replied, ¡°Fine. Are you ready to explain what you were doing running off on your own?¡± Nero, surprised at the change of subject, replied, ¡°What? No. We already covered that. It was a random series of events that nobody cares about. Let¡¯s just stick to the here and now. Speaking of which, can you show me how to join the command web thing?¡± Sighing, Nick replied, ¡°Random series of events, huh? I honestly don¡¯t know how you haven¡¯t gotten yourself killed by now. But, no matter, I¡¯ll not press for details.¡± Nero then listened closely as Nick explained in absurdly over-the-top detail about how to join an active connection. After five minutes, Nero had mentally rearranged the lecture into the shortest explanation possible. ¡°So that¡¯s it? I just have to reach out to the collective group I have the intention of contacting. Whoever is acting as the connection point should feel that? Why don¡¯t I just reach out to whoever is at the center of the connection, wouldn¡¯t that work just as well?¡± he asked. Nick, unhappy with Nero¡¯s childish summary of the subject replied, ¡°Well, you could. The person acting as the mental anchor, in this case, Captain Angleton, could then guide you to the connection. But that is a very lazy way to join -¡± Nero replied quickly, cutting him off. ¡°Got it. One sec.¡± Turning away, he stared at Captain Angleton who was still in the meeting with Cathleen and the other sergeants. Like he¡¯d done with Nick countless times before, he reached out with his mind and offered the man a mental connection. The captain barely glanced toward Nero before turning back to the meeting. Nero felt the connection stabilize, and he heard Captain Angleton say, ¡°Very well done. Your mental stability is stronger than I thought it would be. You might be able to maintain a connection to the command web as well.¡± Before Nero could reply, he felt the connection ¡®slide¡¯ a bit to the metaphysical left and slot itself into place. He suddenly had a sense of connection to all the sergeants, Cathleen, Nick, and several other people he didn¡¯t recognize. The connection felt like a mental handshake and he had no trouble pointing out every person sharing the connection. He even felt a few deeper in the corridors who he sensed might be either fighting or observing a fight. Either way, he was sure they were doing something combative. Suddenly, he heard a voice that he knew came from the area he was thinking about, ¡°We could use a few more bodies to maintain this position. At least another unit if you have anyone available.¡± Nero¡¯s attention was then caught by Cathleen¡¯s voice saying, ¡°Sergeant Hobbs, Mr. Oiler, take your units and reinforce the line. Be sure to cycle out anyone who¡¯s injured. There¡¯s no point in them fighting through the pain right now when we¡¯ll need everyone at full strength after we get the call to push.¡± He still wasn¡¯t used to seeing people having secret conversations in the background. While she was talking over the mental connection, Nero could see that she hadn¡¯t paused her conversation for even a moment. After she gave her orders, Nero¡¯s attention was caught by a group of randomly dressed soldiers, who he guessed might be criminals¡­ penal conscripts that is¡­ Regardless, they suddenly stood up from where they were resting. He saw a man who is assumed might be Mr. Oiler lead them off into the hallway on the other side of the room. Meanwhile, one of the sergeants who had been participating in the meeting collected his 5 troop team and followed quickly behind him. The whole thing took only seconds. Before Nero could wrap his head around how creepy that was, he felt another connection trying to reach out to him. Tilting his head to the side in confusion, he tried to mentally split his attention and figure out what was happening. ¡®What the hell? This feels like Captain Angleton. Aren¡¯t I already connected to him?¡¯ Awkwardly fumbling the connection, he managed to get his brain to accept the new connection. ¡°Well done. I had a feeling your skill level was high enough to maintain multiple connections. This one will be the command web,¡± Captain Angleton said before ¡®sliding¡¯ the connection over. Nero felt a twinge in his brain as he tried to conceptualize what was happening. Suddenly, he heard several voices talking over one another. It was like listening to several people talking all at once, but not in any way confusing. All it took was a little flex of brain power, and he could isolate a voice to listen in on. After cycling through several people talking, he got a sense of what was going on all around the kobald tower. It was like he could point into the distance and know exactly where each captain and team leader was throughout the entire tower. ¡®So, this is the command web. How the hell do they pay attention to everything? It¡¯s like a mental game of telephone,¡¯ he thought to himself in wonder. There was so much information pumping into his brain that he stood there like a stroke patient. Had Nick not shaken his shoulder and snapped him out of it, he probably would have started drooling. Pushing the connections to the back of his mind, he turned to Nick and asked, ¡°Huh? What is it?¡± Nick grinned down at Nero and said, ¡°Having trouble monitoring everything? Don¡¯t worry, you¡¯ll get used to it. Honestly, you shouldn¡¯t even be able to hold onto one connection, let alone two at your level. So, you¡¯re handling it better than I thought you would.¡± Nero managed to smirk despite his head feeling like a boat in the middle of a storm. ¡°It¡¯s not any more difficult than maintaining a conversation while on my phone with the TV on.¡± Nick didn¡¯t bother to ask, he¡¯d long since resigned himself to only roughly understanding what Nero was trying to say. Not knowing how much time he had, Nero tried to move the conversation along. ¡°Now that that¡¯s all taken care of, can you explain to me what war healing is? That sounded important.¡± Nick visibly paused as his brain tried to keep up with Nero¡¯s subject change. ¡°Right. War healing¡­ or more to the point war casting in general. When you were taking classes with Specialist Howard we never really covered that because we didn¡¯t expect it to come up just yet. But you remember that Specialist Howard is a war mage?¡± Nero nodded, then gestured for Nick to go on. ¡°Well, war casting is a difficult technique. It requires a caster to be able to anchor his spell forms to a personal essence supply. As I¡¯m sure you¡¯ve noticed, when a large number of people or sentient combatants, usually more than 10, are involved in a battle, the ether becomes very difficult to connect with. By using a personal supply of essence, their center isn¡¯t overly taxed and war mages can cast spells while in the middle of a war. War healing is similar as it is healing while in the middle of a war zone. Without the aid of other people working toward a common goal, heightened emotions make essence manipulation very difficult. That¡¯s why for the most part casters stay away from the battle and stay at a distance,¡± he said, trying to keep it as simple as possible for his young friend. Nero nodded along, having already figured most of that out. ¡®Yeah, that was as pointless as I feared it would be. I already know all this,¡¯ he thought to himself. ¡°Yeah, I figured out that much. So, this ¡®war casting¡¯, it¡¯s considered a big deal?¡± he asked. His face blank, Nick replied, ¡°Yes, Nero. It¡¯s not an easy thing to do. You see, emotional fields are created when -¡± Nero interrupted him again. ¡°Yeah, like I said, I figured that out. Too many cooks in the ethereal kitchen. I got it. From what I could tell, you could also just overcharge the hell out of your spell with center to overcome the overlapping essence fields, right?¡± Nick went from being annoyed at Nero¡¯s interruption to surprised at Nero¡¯s insight. ¡°Overlapping essence fields? That¡¯s a really good way to look at it. But yes, if you were to just imbue sufficient center into the spell form, the effect it had on the local essence would be strong enough to overcome the control issue.¡± Rubbing his chin in thought, Nero said, ¡°That all makes a weird amount of sense. How come we haven¡¯t talked about this before?¡± Sighing, Nick replied, ¡°Nero, you¡¯ve had one class in actual spell craft, one which you never even finished. You were covering simple tier 1 spell forms, and even those were more advanced than what you should have been learning. You barely managed to understand the concept of center maintenance and identity control. You weren¡¯t ready for anything else.¡± Scoffing, Nero replied, ¡°Well, that¡¯s obviously a load of bull. Jennings showed me how to collapse my essence before we even started training. You could have shown me how to connect my spell forms to my essence shield. Do you have any idea how annoying it was to figure out how to do that on my own?¡± Nick stood there looking at Nero like he was a puzzle with half the pieces missing. ¡°You know what. I¡¯m done talking to you for now. If you say anything else, I might just have to do something unfortunate to you. Go get yourself ready for the final push into the tunnel. From what I can tell, we¡¯ll be there soon. And considering that we haven¡¯t been following the orders of Command, who knows what Cathleen will end up deciding to do? With you as an influence, we¡¯ll probably end up storming the underground city ourselves,¡± he said sarcastically. Nero however took a moment to think about it and wondered if that wasn¡¯t such a bad idea after all. ¡®We¡¯ll have to go down there eventually anyway. And it¡¯s not like the fighting has been all that hard. We¡¯ve got healers. We¡¯ve got supplies. We¡¯re motivated. Might as well do this thing,¡¯ he thought to himself with a smile. Chapter 204 - Check yourself. This type of fighting wasn¡¯t within Rose¡¯s skillset. Walking in formation and hiding behind shields while confronting the enemy directly was practically the direct opposite of her preferred method of combat. Suffice it to say, she was not a soldier. Attacking from concealment, striking the enemy when their attention was elsewhere, that was what she was good at. She was a hunter. Yet, here she was¡­ fighting the good fight for the sake of glory and valens. Or, more accurately, she was NEXT to the people doing that while trying not to draw attention to herself. Currently, she was sitting quietly among the shadows, watching Lord Walker¡¯s growing forces fawn over him from a distance. It was impressive how the young lord was able to convince so many people to follow him through the reflection of their own core values. ¡®He makes it seem so effortless,¡¯ she thought to herself. Across the room they were resting in, she saw Lord Nicholas Salvatore-Verena speaking with the current battle leader, Cathleen Averett. Reading their lips, as she wasn¡¯t nearly skilled enough to interpret sonic fluctuations at this distance, she listened in on their conversation. Lord Verena had sensed Lord Walker¡¯s essence signature and was currently in contact with him. ¡®That explains why Battle Leader Averett called a halt to our blitz,¡¯ she concluded. While Lord Verena thought of Lord Walker as some kind of budding magical scientist, Ms. Averett had made it clear that she saw the young lord as a future warrior of legend. It was amazing to see them working together to support the lord while maintaining two completely contradictory opinions about him. But, it wasn¡¯t just them. Looking around, she couldn¡¯t stop herself from frowning at the penal conscripts that had recently fallen under the young lord¡¯s spell. Each and every one of them was under the impression that Lord Walker was some kind of social champion whose primary goal was the protection and development of humanity. She¡¯d been unlucky enough to listen in on one of the penal conscript¡¯s leader¡¯s recruitment speeches, and she still wasn¡¯t over it. The delusional criminal believed with every fiber of his being that Lord Walker had rallied them to his cause with the express purpose of redeeming their honor and humanity. He¡¯d gone into great detail interpreting the young lord¡¯s exploits in the most ridiculous manner possible. To him and the other penal conscripts, Lord Walker had been chosen by fate to remind the citizens of Dorchester what it truly meant to be ¡®noble¡¯. She wasn¡¯t exactly sure what Lord Walker¡¯s actual reasoning was¡­ but she was positive that they were wrong¡­ completely and utterly WRONG. That wasn¡¯t to say that she wasn¡¯t amazed at how quickly the obviously false narrative had spread. Between the men and women that their little alliance had saved, their numbers had been growing faster than she had thought possible. This room alone probably had over 60 people in it, and she knew for a fact that there were at least three more rooms just as large, each one filled to the brim with people extorting the virtues of the ¡®Great and Honorable Smiling Lord of Dorchester¡¯. ¡®Idiots¡­ delusional idiots the lot of them,¡¯ she thought to herself. And even worse, it wasn¡¯t just the penal conscripts who were likely to sign their lives and futures over to the little lord. Glancing to her right, she remembered Captain Angleton standing there in all his glory, his sergeants surrounding him like his own faction of supporters. Barely holding back a snort of amusement, she listened in on his proselytizing. The man had somehow come to the conclusion that Lord Walker was some kind of honorable young man whose personal ethics compelled him to act for the betterment of humanity. Whatever personal beliefs the man held, he had for some reason attributed every one of them to Lord Walker. He spoke of the young lord¡¯s brash and confrontational demeanor as evidence of his disdain for politics and games. Incomprehensibly, he had become a true believer in the myth of Lord Walker¡¯s unshakable integrity. While she¡¯d signed up as an adherent, she¡¯d done it knowing full well what kind of man the little lord actually was. He was a survivor just like her. He adapted to whatever terrain he found himself in like a true predator, hiding his true self behind whatever cover seemed most appropriate at the time. Yet, these fools are actively deluding themselves into believing whatever stories they want. She had to give the little lord credit, he truly was a genius. ¡®Wait a minute? Has he fooled me too? Am I being blinded to his true nature by the narrative I¡¯ve constructed off what he¡¯s shown me? Would that make my interpretation of him MORE likely, or less?¡¯ she wondered, before visibly shaking her head to forcibly banish the circular argument she was falling into. Either way, she would continue to watch, wait, and listen. Eventually, she¡¯d solve the mystery of the little lord¡­ After all, the most important factor in any hunt is patience. ¡ª-- The relatively newly titled unique, Lord Nero Walker, was struggling to keep his smile from fading. He¡¯d never in his life felt so much like a politician on the campaign trail then he did right now. Instead of being able to take a breather so that he could reflect on all that had happened, he¡¯d been immediately surrounded by people who wanted nothing more than to talk to him and tell him their story. He¡¯d barely taken a seat when the first group of three had brazenly walked up, handed him a ration bar, and began professing their undying loyalty to his cause. It had taken every bit of his arguably high willpower to stop himself from asking just what ¡®cause¡¯ they were talking about. Over the next hour or two, he must have heard from over a dozen people. Each and every one of them having given him their heartfelt promise to follow him on his personal quest to defend humanity from the perils of the wilds and the machinations of the uncaring nobles. Only after expressing their regret for whatever heinous act had gotten them in trouble, of course. One guy had nearly fallen into tears as he eloquently described his surrender into temptation which had led him to illegally trade unlicensed goods for an obscene profit. He¡¯d gone on to explain that he had always blamed the poorly balanced system for his incarceration, believing that it was inherently unfair to commoners like him. But now, thanks to Nero, he was able to see that it was the personal responsibility of every citizen to uphold the values behind the law. After all this time, he was able to recognize that he should have immediately turned in the people that had approached him, and helped root out the evil power-hungry nobles behind them. Nero still wasn¡¯t exactly sure HOW he was responsible for the man coming to that idiotic conclusion, but he still smiled and thanked him for his support. It had only gotten worse from there. He¡¯d mistakenly thought that the people in this room were the only ones who wanted to join him as adherents or whatever the equivalent for penal conscripts who wanted to dedicate their social debt to him was, but he had been oh-so-very wrong. Based on how many people were cycling in and out of the room, he couldn¡¯t begin to guess how many there actually were. Not for the first time, he thought to himself, ¡®What the fuck is happening right now?¡¯ Now, when the overly thankful lady who¡¯d been grasping his hands in a death grip finally let go, he replied, ¡°That¡¯s really not necessary. Seriously, I mean it. From what you said, you¡¯ve only got like 2 years left on your sentence. I¡¯m sure you¡¯ll never again use your ability to hurl potted plants at your neighbor. Please calm down¡­ You don¡¯t have to convince me that you never meant to injure her. Besides, I¡¯m sure the nosy woman had it coming. Please don¡¯t think you owe me or anyone else anything at all. Live your life however you want. We all make mistakes. There¡¯s really no need to offer me your life-oath or whatever it was you just said. I¡¯m good¡­ honestly. You take care now and keep your shield up!¡± The story has been taken without consent; if you see it on Amazon, report the incident. As the now weeping woman was led away, Nero looked around at all these lunatics and wondered how it had come to this. ¡®This was NOT what I signed up for,¡¯ he said to himself. Although, he had to admit it felt pretty good to be treated as some kind of righteous example of humanity or something. It was a heady feeling that was both exhilarating and embarrassing. After the 10th or 11th person called him an inspiration, he realized he¡¯d have to be careful not to let it go to his head. ¡®No wonder celebrities and cult leaders end up going mental,¡¯ he thought to himself. Luckily, right as the next person stepped forward for their five minutes of face time, he heard Cathleen¡¯s voice echo throughout the room. ¡°Five-minute warning. Get your gear packed, and your weapons ready, and don¡¯t forget your courage. You¡¯ll be needing all three. The rest of the army has finally caught up with us and now it¡¯s time to end this battle.¡± Like a bomb going off, everyone scattered. Blinking in surprise, Nero calmly stood up from the stool he¡¯d been using only to nearly jump in surprise when someone on his left immediately stored it in their personal space. The man gave Nero a submissive nod along with a smile before going back to collect the rest of his gear. ¡®Had I been stealing that dude¡¯s chair this entire time?¡¯ he wondered with no small amount of confusion displayed on his face. Before he could offer the poor guy an apology, he felt one of the mental connections he¡¯d been ignoring flair up. He wasn¡¯t sure why, but he knew it was someone trying to speak to him directly. With a flex of his concentration, he recognized Nick¡¯s essence signature and pulled the connection ¡®forward¡¯ in his mind. ¡°Hey man, this is a private connection, right? Did I forget to close this one? It doesn¡¯t feel like one of the group ones.¡± asked Nero. He could feel Nick¡¯s amusement over the connection. ¡°Unless I¡¯m mistaken, you probably have all three somewhere in your mental space. All you need to do is focus on that part of your mind and you should be able to tell them apart. If not, don¡¯t worry about it, you¡¯ll get used to it. But, that¡¯s beside the point. You need to get over here, Cathleen wants to talk to you,¡± he said. Between a vague sense of direction from the connection and his essence field, Nero was quickly able to locate where he needed to go. Without even saying goodbye to his adoring public, he ducked his head and slipped through the crowd. The moment he walked up, Cathleen immediately started talking. ¡°You and Nick will be staying near the center of the formation. I don¡¯t want you running off this time. We don¡¯t know exactly what we¡¯ll be facing, but if you¡¯ve been paying attention to the command web, you¡¯d know that scouts have determined the central chamber to be large enough to allow ranged spell fire from entrenched positions. So, you¡¯re not to go anywhere near the front lines until we can get far enough inside to pull up our spell shields. Our healers will try and stay close enough to matter, but I doubt they¡¯ll be able to. So I don¡¯t want you dying to something so easily avoidable. Am I understood?¡± Nero blinked a few times at the barrage of information before replying, ¡°Um¡­ yeah. Stay in the middle. Don¡¯t get myself killed?¡± Without another word, Cathleen turned and walked away while barking orders to whoever caught her eye. Turning to Nick he said, ¡°What does she mean the healers probably won¡¯t matter?¡± Nick, who was busy checking the straps on his gear, didn¡¯t bother to look up when he replied. ¡°Well, as I¡¯m sure you¡¯ve noticed, healers have to stay far enough away from the front lines for the sake of their essence control. In tight spaces leading to open areas that usually means healers are a fair bit away from the action. So, unless the people in reserve are really quick with moving the injured and dead, most bodies won¡¯t make it to the healers in time to save them. It¡¯s one of the reasons charging a fortified position without shields is so dangerous. You need to maintain a balance between shield bearers and fighters over open ground, but fighters at the start should expect heavy casualties.¡± Nero furrowed his brow in defiance of Nick¡¯s casual acceptance of the inevitable casualties. This was a world of magic, and they couldn¡¯t come up with a better plan than ¡®sacrifice a few nobodies to buy some time for the shields to go up¡¯? On the other hand, what the hell did he know about magical warfare? He¡¯d barely learned how to be useful in this kind of fight, so he shouldn¡¯t get up on his soapbox just yet. ¡®I¡¯ll just have to abuse the hell out of the soul stuff in the ether and save whoever I can,¡¯ he decided. While everyone was starting to group up and get into formation, Nero let himself be guided by Nick to where he was supposed to go. As Cathleen requested, he ended up right in the middle of the pack, surrounded by soldiers taller than him. Groaning in annoyance, he spread out his essence field and actively started looking around. As usual, the first thing he did was get a read on how the essence in the ether was looking. And as expected, it was already starting to firm up under the growing emotions of so many overlapping essence fields. He could almost ¡®see¡¯ the sense of anticipation tightening its grip on the flows. He also noticed several odd ¡®waves¡¯ or ¡®layers¡¯ moving around. Just like Nick had taught him, he tried mentally squinting or altering the way he was looking at things. The result wasn¡¯t as drastic as being able to suddenly see through the walls, but he could tell he was on the right track. As he worked on fine-tuning his control, the formation began moving. The hallways were wide, but they weren¡¯t THAT wide, so they ended up moving through the kobald tower like a game of snake. Although he struggled a little with his body coordination while he worked on his essence perception, he managed to get the hang of it in no time at all. The trick he found was to relax his control over his field a little. It was kind of like a magic eye thing, he just had to stop trying so hard. Once he was able to alter how he was looking at things, a lot of what he¡¯d been missing suddenly became clear. He noticed that Nick, who was standing right next to him, was slowly collecting essence into a condensed field around his body for an essence shield of his own. And he wasn¡¯t the only one. A lot of people were gathering essence for the shields. But what he found surprising was how SLOW they were going. It was like watching toddlers trying to master dribbling a basketball. Even Nick, who Nero knew for a fact was a great mage was taking forever to pull in enough essence to matter. From what he could see, it looked like it was an issue of mental grip strength or something similar. For every little bit they pulled in, more than three-quarters of it was being left behind. Glancing to his left, Nero checked on Nick to see if he looked like he was struggling. Unsurprisingly, he looked just as calm and collected as he always did. ¡®Is this how it normally is for him? That¡¯s just¡­ I don¡¯t know what it is,¡¯ he thought to himself sympathetically. Despite how many wonderful examples of the differences between him and everyone else, this one hit him right in the feels. It was a real, tangible example of how different he was from everyone else. Just hearing about it wasn¡¯t ever enough to really convince him, but now, he could no longer hide from the fact that he was just¡­ different. Deciding that he should probably get his own shield up and running, he reached out and began collecting essence. Unfortunately, that was about ALL he was able to do. With the multiple mental connections taking up space in his brain, he felt like he was already at the maximum capacity for things he could reasonably pay attention to. Frowning in annoyance, he debated whether or not it was worth it to hold on to all of them. If he was going to end up having to heal people, he¡¯d need to at least free up enough brain power to be able to cast a spell. Regardless of whether or not he was using soul stuff to power it, he still needed to carve the spell form, and that took concentration. Over the connection he had with Nick, he asked, ¡°Hey Nick, how many mental connections are you holding on to right now?¡± Although he was standing right next to him, Nick didn¡¯t bother to turn and look at him. He simply replied over the connection, ¡°Five. I have one to the command web along with the unit connection. Then I have this one and another with Cathleen. I¡¯m also currently having a discussion with Specialist Howard about how to improve the defensive properties of my essence shield.¡± Sensing Nero¡¯s shock, Nick misunderstood and tried to defend himself. ¡°What? I told you I¡¯m not very good with shields in general. I usually only bother with essence shields for a radiant heal effect and some damage reduction. I¡¯ve always had difficulty with conceptual magic. It¡¯s not like I don¡¯t understand the subject, it¡¯s just that I tend to apply things more directly. So, I¡¯m working on it. Not everyone can do what you can do.¡± Nero didn¡¯t really know what to say, so he just replied, ¡°No, I get it. I¡¯m sure you¡¯ll figure it out. But, just so I understand, you¡¯re having that conversation right now? While also paying attention to all those other connections?¡± Nick looked down at Nero with confusion. ¡°Yes. Why?¡± Nero shrugged and replied, ¡°No reason. Just curious.¡± As they both seemed to decide the conversation was over, they went back to walking in silence. Nero carefully slipped the connection into the back of his mind, hoping to hide his emotional state. The moment he had it isolated, he immediately began to flip out. ¡®Five! Five! All of them ACTIVE!¡¯ he mentally screamed in outrage. Taking a few subtle deep breaths to calm down, he said to himself, ¡®Yeah, who¡¯s the ¡®unique¡¯ one now? I need to make sure that I don¡¯t start believing my own hype. Pride cometh before the ass-kicking. I ought to remember that.¡¯ Chapter 205 - Perceived slights and deserved revenge. General Branson struggled to stop himself from rubbing his temples to alleviate his headache. Now, more than ever, he needed to project an image of control and indomitability. With how young many of the commanders were, few had been around long enough to be intimidated by his feats of strength in the field. He hadn¡¯t had a chance to demonstrate his power in decades, maybe even a century. After all, as a general, he couldn¡¯t go out and fight himself, and who in their right mind had the audacity to challenge him in the arena? Stifling a sigh, he looked up from the projection of the battle he was watching and asked, ¡°Has the engineering corps come to a definitive conclusion?¡± The young commander on the general¡¯s right seemed to mirror his mood quite well. With a furrowed brow and no small amount of anger in his voice, he replied, ¡°No, sir. All they¡¯ll say at this time is that the kobald fortification is both impressive and most likely the result of a ritual. There is no doubt that it is a spell creation, however, they have no idea whether or not the effect can be stabilized. From what they tell me, it comes down to whether or not the ritualized constructed material can be enchanted with a permanent identity without the ritual itself being affected. According to them, until they get a chance to run some on-site tests, there is no way they can make an accurate determination.¡± Not wanting to hear anymore, he merely grunted in understanding before changing the subject. ¡°And what about our preparations at the mountain gate? Has there been any progress with the spell cannon and shield generator modifications tactical requested?¡± This time it was another commander who answered. As if he thought too highly of himself, he stood up from his seat to address the entire table. ¡°On that front, we¡¯ve had some luck. Both the spell cannon adjustments to their spell crystals and the shield generator modifications have been approved by the Tower of Magic. The arch-mage himself agreed that our mages had successfully developed both underlying magics and then personally approved access to the relevant technologies. As it happened, the arch-mage had the required construction diagrams we needed in his personal knowledge repository, so we didn¡¯t need to wait for them to be delivered.¡± Clenching his teeth in anger, the general nodded. ¡°I¡¯m sure that he did. Please pass on our thanks for his aid in our time of need,¡± he said sarcastically. Another commander spoke up, the tone of his voice demonstrating his repressed rage. ¡°And what does illustrious arch-mage have to say about the modifications to our Tower of Magic¡¯s scrying apparatus? Have our mages made enough progress to merit his aid?¡± As everyone was staring at him with anger in their eyes, the commander who¡¯d stood up to deliver his good news couldn¡¯t help but shrink under their combined hostility. ¡°Unfortunately, the arch-mage made it very clear that until our own mages made some actual progress in their efforts to pierce the kobald¡¯s illusionary defenses, there was nothing he could do to help us. However, I did manage to get a little more information from his assistant, specifically the one who is currently serving as our court mage. I believe she was trying to offer a hint when she apologized on the arch-mage¡¯s behalf. She said that she was sorry, but distance delving is a spell technique we¡¯ll have to figure out on our own. Rest assured, I passed her words on verbatim to the mages working on the problem.¡± ¡®Politics and games. That¡¯s what it always comes down to. More people have died to those two monsters than any threat found in the wilds,¡¯ the general thought sourly. Walking up to the table, a nervous aid interrupted them. ¡°Apologies, sir. But, the investigators from the citadel are asking for you again.¡± Growling in frustration, he slammed his knuckles into the table. ¡°Don¡¯t they know there is a war going on?¡± he muttered uselessly. Looking around the table at the commanders, he ordered, ¡°Carry on. I expect options for a coordinated assault as soon as possible.¡± Turning around, he glared at the aid who¡¯d delivered the message. ¡°Alright, let¡¯s get this over with,¡± he grumbled. The aid nodded quickly before stepping aside and bowing. ¡°Right this way, sir.¡± ¡®When I find whoever violated the code so brazenly, I¡¯m going to shove my sword so far up their ass they¡¯ll be eating their own intestines as a kebab,¡¯ he swore to himself in fury. ¡ª-- Nero kept pace with the formation while experimenting with his newfound ability to alter his perception. While what he was seeing didn¡¯t exactly change, it was kind of like looking at one of those hologram cards that moved when you tipped them. It didn¡¯t take him long to get the hang of it, and every layer he saw was more interesting than the one before it. With just a little effort, he was able to figure out the trick Nick was using to see through the walls. He could see the humans and kobalds in a large bubble all around him. Both sides were spread through the tower like a virus fighting against the tower¡¯s antibodies. Although he couldn¡¯t see even a fraction of the whole tower, what he did see was enough to give him a general idea as to how the fight was going on a macro scale. The humans had cut off the kobalds support to the upper floors and were now blockading the kobalds in the center of the tower. He was barely able to see the edges of the large central chamber they were headed toward but could tell that the kobalds looked ready for them. On the floor above him, he could see human soldiers rushing toward the conflict. From what he could tell, they¡¯d be arriving at the same time his unit would. Already regretting what he was about to do, he pulled the connection he had to the command net forward in his mind. And just as he¡¯d feared, the multiple conversations immediately started to stress his already overburdened mind. To help lighten the load, he released the essence shield he was holding, figuring that he could make a new one quickly enough that it didn¡¯t matter. Unfortunately, it didn¡¯t help as much as he hoped it would. The more conversations he tried to pay attention to, the more his head throbbed. When it was only one or two, he was alright, but any more was enough to make his eyes water in pain. It took a minute or two, but he was able to confirm some guesses he¡¯d had. The humans had in fact cleared out the tower, and the kobalds were waiting for them. The outer rooms of the tower had been taken over by the healers and support staff. All the kobald bodies and their poorly made furniture had been piled up outside and Dorchester¡¯s engineers were debating on whether or not they could take over the tower. He couldn¡¯t understand everything they were saying, as some things went over his head. ¡®How do they expect to turn this entire construct into an actual real building? Is that even possible?¡¯ he wondered as he listened to the section of the command web holding the debate. Of course, he then remembered the one brief lesson he¡¯d had with the arch-mage on enchanting and realized that it probably was. With enough people injecting their center into something, they could probably trick the world into thinking it actually existed. Shaking his head in amazement at what magic was capable of, he returned to perusing the rest of the conversations. He knew he only had a few minutes before the battle started, and he wanted to get an idea of how they were going to overcome the kobald¡¯s defenses. Between all the seasoned personnel and captains, someone must have a better idea than throwing bodies at the problem. Or at least that¡¯s what he hoped. Alas, it wasn¡¯t meant to be. When the front of the formation finally pushed the kobalds back far enough to begin entering the central chamber, Nero got a firsthand look at what human ingenuity was capable of. And unfortunately, it was decidedly unimpressive. The front lines rushed through the large opening like they were coming out of a tunnel at the beginning of a football game. The moment they did, spells began to reign down on them like meteors from heaven. Explosive balls of fire along with exploding hunks of rock decimated the soldiers in a shocking display of magic and might. He was too far away to see what was happening at the doors to the left and right of his formation, but he was able to get a good look at how poorly the soldiers were fairing above him. And unfortunately, they didn¡¯t seem to be any better than the soldiers on the ground floor. From what little he could see of the chamber, it looked like a three-story open-concept stadium. Based on the curvature of the upper tiers, he guessed that it could probably hold multiple football fields without issue. The upper tier was wide enough for 50 or 60 people to walk side by side and still have enough room for people to pass in between them. As he was pushed forward by the tide of humanity all around him, he could see the upper tier looked out over the central chamber like an indoor running track in a massive gymnasium. He also noticed that it was held up by massive pillars which were being used as defensive positions by the kobalds on the ground floor. Already he could see humans beginning to throw up shields to cut down on the spell fire they were receiving. The entire maneuver had only lasted a minute or two, but there were mangled bodies all over the place. It was brutal and exactly what he¡¯d feared actual war would look like. ¡®How in the hell do they convince anyone to go first if that was what was waiting for them?¡¯ he wondered. Up until now, he¡¯d seen the fantastically magical side of warfare. With violent bloodthirsty enemies that didn¡¯t elicit an ounce of guilt when killed, and constant victories by the good guys, he hadn¡¯t been confronted with the reality of what could actually happen. Sure, conceptually he understood that the war had already probably killed a ton of people, but he hadn¡¯t watched it happen. The world had magic that could bring back the dead and real-life knights in shining armor. He¡¯d even planned on personally bringing back anyone who died to this predictably stupid plan. But now that he was here, watching it happen in real-time, he could tell that he¡¯d been wildly optimistic about his chances of making a difference. The tale has been taken without authorization; if you see it on Amazon, report the incident. Through his essence field, he could see the front lines charging through the exploded body parts of the first ones through the entrance. Granted there were still many people still alive, but there were also a LOT of dead people. Gulping in revulsion, he muttered, ¡°Well¡­ that just happened.¡± It was shocking how quickly so many people died, only to have the battle completely shift back to what he¡¯d grown used to. The soldiers were now once again under shields, and the front lines were back in melee with the kobalds. All was once again right with the world. Through his essence field, he watched the injured people and some of the more intact bodies being ferried back through the lines. The moment the first one arrived on the way to the healers, he immediately felt the urge to do something. Slipping the crowd after assuring Nick he wouldn¡¯t go far, he took advantage of his essence field¡¯s perception to intercept who he could. Reaching out like a pickpocket, he began healing anyone and everyone. He didn¡¯t even bother saying anything, he just started healing. With all the soul stuff in the air, not to mention all the recent practice he¡¯d had, closing wounds and bringing people back was easy. The only difficult part was pushing through the crowd. However, for once, his height and build were an advantage. He was positive that once or twice people hadn¡¯t even noticed who¡¯d been healing them. Although he didn¡¯t have time to do more than stabilize people so they could make it to the healers, he was able to bring a few people back and heal up the worst of their wounds. While he didn¡¯t know how many people he¡¯d saved, he figured it had to be more than 10 or 15 before the formation moved forward enough to push through the entrance. The moment the ceiling disappeared and he stepped out into the chamber he felt his feet trample what was left of those who hadn¡¯t made it. It was both sobering and disgusting. There was something profoundly disturbing about seeing so much actual death and destruction. He¡¯d come to rely on his subconscious belief that anything and everything could be healed. Unfortunately, reality had decided to introduce the concept of consequences to his carefree worldview. Now, Nero being Nero, reacted how he always did¡­ he got pissed and lashed out like a child. Having no idea where Nick was, and not feeling like tracking him down, Nero clenched his hands and decided to kill some kobalds to make himself feel better. Raising himself up on his trusty pillar, he only had enough room to get a head or two above the rest of the soldiers. The shield this time was much lower, and he could already feel the hair on top of his head stiffening as if he were nearing an electrical tower. But, it was enough room for him to do what he needed to do. Nero didn¡¯t remember to disconnect from the mental connections he had, or even bother to prepare an essence shield. Instead, his entire focus was on carving his chosen spell form. While the soldiers around him continued forward, he felt more than one bump into him and stumble over his 2-foot-tall little mud stool. Nonetheless, he persevered and his concentration remained unbroken. Reaching out into the ether, he used his center to create the spell form for the turret he used back at the portal. It was just as basic and poorly constructed as the last time, but he didn¡¯t care now any more than he did back then. It was the most powerful spell he knew, and he wanted to spread as much misery as he could among the kobald horde. He felt like there was some karmic justice in the fact that so many human soul remnants were floating around. It took less effort than he remembered to guide them into his spell form. He wasn¡¯t sure, but he thought they actually seemed eager to help him get their revenge. As the soldiers continued to force their way into the massive chamber, he stretched his essence field out as far as possible so that he could determine where he would be able to do the most damage. He could see that the kobalds had set up tall walls of earth along with their own versions of shields. But, he knew it wouldn¡¯t matter. He just had to keep his firing arc shallow enough to slip under their defenses. As if he could see the firing angles in his mind, he raised his hands above his fellow humans and tweaked his spell form. It took some tilting and finnagling, but he managed to get the arc exactly how he wanted it. As it charged, it looked like a mini sun at the end of a shimmering barrel in his hands. He felt the ether tremble with the essence fields of various mages noticing what he was doing. With all the attention, he really wanted to hand someone his canteen and say, ¡®Here, hold my beer and watch this shit¡¯. It took every bit of his concentration to inject enough essence into the spell form to change it from a slow-moving blob of energy into a railgun. He needed his spell to hit exactly where he wanted it to, as anywhere else would be a fuck-up on par with when NASA lost a 125 million dollar orbiter due to an engineer not understanding the difference between metric and english units. The entire world seemed to pause as the spell form materialized his ¡®shell¡¯. Then, like a supercharged paintball, it shot out over the heads of everyone in front of him. Grinning like a madman, he watched in fascination as it continued forward until it collided with one of the kobald spell shields. Taking advantage of the angles, he had been careful to make sure it hit from the bottom. The result was everything he¡¯d hoped for and more. It exploded like a ball of plasma and chaos. With his improved perception field, he watched as the ether in the area warped and bent unnaturally. Kobalds were thrown into the air like shrapnel while the constructs they were hiding behind lost any semblance of cohesion. Since this time his shell hit much closer to the fighting, he watched as the front lines stumbled under the resulting shockwave of blood and guts. Aside from the minuscule bit of center he¡¯d lost from the spell form¡¯s creation, the massive spell had cost him next to nothing. Even better, the spell had disrupted the kobald¡¯s shield like a drunk guy playing Jenga. All over the place, he could see holes appearing over the kobald¡¯s heads. Above him, the shields that were protecting him began flaring as more and more enemy spells started pelting the area. But, unlike the kobalds, he didn¡¯t need to fire at such an extreme angle. He was much, much closer to his targets. The only thing he had to worry about was the pillars holding up the second-story tier. The last thing he wanted was to accidentally bring the entire roof down on their heads. So, he had to be careful¡­ precise. To stop himself from being jostled by his fellow troops, he raised another pillar behind him. It was much thinner, but considering how much soul stuff he used to make it, he figured it was solid enough that it wouldn¡¯t matter. Then, he got to work. Although it was annoying how close the shield over his head was. If it were just a foot or two higher, he¡¯d have a much easier time targeting his spell. As it was right now, he felt like he was tempting fate with how small a window he had to fire his shell. But, as long as he was careful, it should be fine¡­ probably. Deciding to trust in his luck he proceeded to fire shell after shell into the kobald¡¯s defenses. He targeted whatever barriers he could, whether it was earthen wall constructs or the weird-looking mud huts that were probably supposed to be defensive positions. Due to the limitations of his firing arc, he wasn¡¯t able to fire too far into the distance. And since the front lines no longer had anything to stop them from pushing further into the chamber, he soon had to stop his one-man artillery barrage. Yet, he¡¯d done what he could. He¡¯d at least taken out the kobald¡¯s first line of defenses and hopefully instilled the fear of God into them. However, it still didn¡¯t feel like enough. When he dismissed his pillar constructs, he found himself back on the ground, his feet surrounded by the bloody remains of the soldiers who¡¯d sacrificed themselves to buy time for the shields he was now under. No, it wasn¡¯t nearly enough. Rejoining the formation¡¯s forward progress, he used his essence field to track Nick down. Nero had only been gone for 10 or 20 minutes so he wasn¡¯t too surprised to find him quite close to where he¡¯d left him. Although it looked like Nick had gotten roped into helping maintain the overhead shield. Slipping through the formation, he reached out and healed anyone he saw being helped back toward the healers. It didn¡¯t look like any more people were dying, but it was now too chaotic for him to know for sure. Since the soldiers had come out of the chamber entrance, they had spread out and expanded the front line. While it had allowed Nero the opportunity to fire his spells, the aftermath resulted in an ever-widening half-circle or conflict. The only thing keeping the soldiers from spreading out further was the limited number of mages they had to maintain the shield. Wherever the kobalds were firing their artillery spells from, it was out of his perception range. All he could see were the spells rising in the distance and growing larger before they fell down on top of the formation. He once again found himself marveling at the strength of will they were displaying to maintain the shields, and he didn¡¯t envy the monstrous headaches they were undoubtedly suffering. Finally arriving back at Nick¡¯s side, Nero patted the man¡¯s arm to let him know he was there. Nick looked over with a frown and asked, ¡°Nero, you really need to stop using soul magic. As helpful as you think you¡¯re being¡­ it¡¯s just not worth it if you end up corrupting your identity.¡± Nero rolled his eyes and replied, ¡°I told you before, and I¡¯ll tell you again. Whatever you think about ¡®soul magic¡¯, you¡¯re wrong. Or at least the way I¡¯m doing it is different enough that I¡¯m the exception. I can tell you for a fact that I¡¯m not in any danger.¡± Nick still didn¡¯t seem convinced, but didn¡¯t know how to argue his point in the face of Nero obviously being fine. ¡°Alright, like I said, I can¡¯t stop you from doing it. You¡¯ll just have to learn your lessons after experiencing the consequences of your actions.¡± Nero frowned in annoyance at the implication that he was doing something stupid. ¡°Look Nick, I get it. But this isn¡¯t me ignoring you out of some childish need to prove you wrong. I¡¯m telling you, I¡¯m not doing anything with souls¡­ I¡¯m just using the leftover potential after they¡¯ve already passed on.¡± Nick obviously didn¡¯t accept that, replying, ¡°I believe that you believe that. I¡¯m just having trouble conceiving of a spell-casting technique that borrows the power of death while not actually dealing with the dead. But, I¡¯m neither all-knowing nor your master, so I¡¯ll just remind you to be careful and leave it at that. I¡¯d also recommend you work on your story as I¡¯m sure every caster with an ounce of essence perception just saw what you did and there is no doubt in my mind that every one of them thinks it WAS soul magic. So, good luck with that. You should plan accordingly.¡± Nero offered Nick a hateful glare as the man smirked at him. ¡°Bite me, you¡¯re just jealous. And for the record, if anybody puts me on trial or tries to burn me at the stake¡­ I¡¯m telling them that you¡¯re the one who taught me everything I know.¡± Nick¡¯s smirk withered into a glare of his own. ¡°You would too¡­ wouldn¡¯t you? Sometimes I forget how spiteful you can be.¡± Nero smiled at the compliment and patted his friend on his arm. ¡°Don¡¯t worry, you¡¯ll get there someday. You just have to remember that it¡¯s not about winning, it¡¯s about not losing. It¡¯s impossible to go through life without taking it in the teeth, but all you can do is make sure that whoever is giving it to you doesn¡¯t come out any better than you did. Now let¡¯s focus on paying these damned dirty lizards back for every good and righteous human soul they¡¯ve sent on to their great reward.¡± By the time Nero finished his little speech, Nick was grinning ear to ear. ¡°That sounds like a wonderful life motto and a very good idea. I¡¯ve got one or two spells I¡¯ve never had a chance to try out on a live specimen, and I might as well embrace the opportunity this invasion has given me.¡± Nero nodded. ¡°When life gives you lemons, squirt them in its eyes and demand something better.¡± Nick frowned in confusion. ¡°Huh? I¡¯m not exactly sure what you meant by that.¡± Nero sighed in defeat. ¡°I guess there are actual limits to translation magic after all¡­ No matter, I¡¯ll come up with something better and get back to you. For now, don¡¯t worry about it.¡± Chapter 206 - Having nothing to do but watch. Feeling that someone was approaching, Ambassador Ironwick cracked one eye open to see who stones to barge into his room and interrupt his sleep. Instead of seeing the unnecessarily large room he¡¯d been assigned, he saw broken tables and chairs, numerous passed-out dwarves, and even a few humans. ¡®Oh, right¡­ Dustbeard brought out the Molten Ale¡­ makes sense I guess,¡¯ he said to himself as flashes of last night¡¯s drunken shenanigans came back to him. While the ambassador was waking up, the dwarven messenger approached carefully. Walking through the bar, the dwarf winced every time he felt the bottom of his shoes sticking to the floor. After living living with the humans for over 300 years he¡¯d forgotten how vulgar and disgusting his brethren could be. That being said, he knew better than to say anything. Instead, he just continued to hold his fanciful robe as far off the floor as he could and did his best not to touch anything. Ambassador Ironwick¡¯s singular open eye narrowed on the poncy well-dressed ¡®dwarf¡¯ in front of him. ¡°Ambassador, I apologize for interrupting¡­ your rest. However, you¡¯re needed at the embassy as soon as possible,¡± said the messenger. Not bothering with the niceties the human-loving dwarf probably expected, Ambassador Ironwick rolled off the floor to his feet and cleared his nose by thumbing one side at a time and huffing. By the time his snot hit the floor, he¡¯d already picked up a half-filled pitcher of room-temperature ale and took a few large gulps. Finishing with a loud gargle and a spit toward the corner, he locked eyes with the disgusted messenger and demanded, ¡°For what?¡± Wrinkling his nose in disgust, the messenger replied, ¡°I was not informed, Ambassador. I was merely instructed to bring you back as soon as possible. The codeword I was given was ¡®golden calling¡¯ if that means anything to you.¡± Incensed, the Ambassador stomped past the pathetic excuse for a dwarf, nearly knocking him to the floor. ¡°Why didn¡¯t you say that in the first place!¡± he shouted before grumbling and cursing under his breath. ¡®We need to stop sending every useless, unwanted reject nobody wants around to man our embassies. Hells be damned wastes of space are ruining our reputation and making us look like idiots,¡¯ he thought to himself angrily. The moment he kicked open the door to the bar, he flinched at the bright sun bearing down on him. After taking a moment to figure out where he was, he set off toward the embassy like a rock rolling downhill. Whether it was the look in his eyes, his general demeanor, or his smell¡­ everyone in the crowd hurried to get out of his way. Since the bar he and his clanmates had chosen was the closest one to the embassy, he made it back in less than five minutes. The frown on his face morphed into a grimace the moment he saw the embassy. Although it was a respectable attempt at copying a typical clan meeting hall, seeing one above ground pissed him off for some reason. Barreling through the unnecessarily tall doors, he strode past the greeting desk and the various information givers. The ambassador ignored most of the dwarfs who offered their polite greetings. He did however take the time to smile and exchange a few words with several armor-clad dwarves who he respected. Although, even then, he didn¡¯t break his stride. Hurrying through the hallways, he made his way to the basement. Then, after looking around to make sure there was no one nearby, he put his hand on the wall and activated the hidden doorway. The flat stone wall erupted with a shining rune script before folding in on itself. After a few seconds, a rounded arch with intricate carvings appeared. Offering the arch a gentle pat of appreciation, he stomped forward into the corridor beyond. While walking, he felt the torches along the walls light up after sensing his arrival. He made his way through the winding maze without issue, easily remembering the way. Any dwarf worth his beard would remember a path he¡¯d been shown, even if it was only once or twice. The moment he arrived in front of the door he wanted, he took a moment to find the right rune stone on his belt and activate it. He felt the magic rush across his body, into his mouth and nose, and even over his lustrous beard. After it faded, he smelled his armpit and ran his tongue over his teeth. Finding everything acceptable, he ran a hand over his beard to get rid of the frizzies and pushed open the door. The moment he walked in, he felt the world around him shift. He wasn¡¯t surprised to see the connection already established. Looking around, he saw that he was being projected into one of the royal meeting halls. ¡®Well, this oughta be good,¡¯ he thought with a grin. Making his way around a twenty-foot-wide pillar, he expected to see King Shattershield and a few of the other clan heads waiting to rip him a new one for his recent actions. ¡®If this doesn¡¯t get me sent back to the mountain, I don¡¯t know what will,¡¯ he said to himself. Unfortunately, what he found was not what he¡¯d expected. Instead of the king and a few clan heads, he walked in on a meeting between King Shattershield and the other six dwarven kings. Each of them was sitting on their throne with their aides and advisors standing beside them. They were all arranged in a circle and currently shouting at each other. Any thought of maintaining his arrogant and slightly hostile attitude faltered in the face of the overwhelming might he was seeing. He might get away with being an asshole to the king he¡¯d served for a millennium, but the others¡­ they¡¯d tan his ass in a minute if he started mouthing off. Straightening his back, he approached the meeting from the singular open path set aside for petitioners. The moment he was noticed, the entire hallway shifted into a half circle so all the kings were facing him. Even the aides slid across the floor smoothly as the hallway altered itself to the whims of the meeting room¡¯s host. He¡¯d assumed it was King Shattershield, but now he wasn¡¯t so sure. Not letting his nerves show, he bent slightly forward and saluted with a fist to his chest. ¡°General Ironwick reporting as ordered, my king!¡± One of the kings off to the side, King Umbrasteel, chuckled and said, ¡°Don¡¯t you mean ¡®Ambassador Ironwick¡¯?¡± The kings, King Shattershield included, all laughed in good humor before being silenced by King Shatershield shouting, ¡°All right, that¡¯s enough. We¡¯ve got serious business to discuss, and there isn¡¯t time to put up with any shit.¡± All the kings exchanged nods and straightened up in the thrones. Leaning forward, King Shattershield narrowed his eyes at Ambassador Ironwick and demanded, ¡°Now, you¡¯re going to tell me why in the forge god¡¯s name you decided to pick Dorchester of all places for our first official city in the human¡¯s lands. How do you expect us to launch our invasion into the human lands from there? Choose your words carefully, because your actions have thrown a thousand years of preparation into the scrap pile.¡± Gulping, Ambassador Ironwick muttered unconsciously, ¡°Plans? What invasion plans?¡± Hopping off his throne, King Shattershield turned around and belted one of his advisors in the face with his armor-encased fist. In a tone filled with righteous vindication, ¡°You see! You see! I told you idiots he wouldn¡¯t read the fuckin¡¯ information packet! That¡¯s three hundred barrels from you, and you¡­ and don¡¯t forget Rory, you owe him too.¡± All around the room, the various kings broke out into fits of raucous laughter, pounding their fists on their chairs and holding their bellies. His mouth gaping in confusion, Ambassador Ironwick watched numbly as the various kings exchanged pouches of gold with their advisors. After a few minutes, the room finally settled down and King Shattershield returned to his seat. ¡°Now, all jokes aside, I do actually need you to answer the question. Why did take it upon yourself to choose a city without consulting me or any other clan head who¡¯d been in talks with the humans? We have been growing our ties with the recent king, and his initiatives to bring peace between the various kingdoms of the land have earned him our consideration. However, your actions were too hasty, and I¡­ WE¡­ demand to know what you were thinking.¡± Caught off guard by the entire spectacle and upset at being the subject of what sounded like a rather expensive bet, Ambassador Ironwick felt his anger at the situation bubbling up. Glaring at the kings, he declared, ¡°You want to know why I chose whatever city it was that I chose? Well, two reasons. One, it was the only city on the list that required dwarven axes to take it. And the other, Fuck you¡­ that¡¯s why.¡± Once again, the entire room erupted into guffaws and laughter. Even King Shattershield couldn¡¯t stop himself from laughing along with the rest of them. ¡ª-- Nero kept his eyes open for a way to contribute to the battle, but couldn¡¯t come up with anything. Aside from occasionally slipping away to heal a few people, there really wasn¡¯t much for him to do. Step by agonizingly slow step, the human formations pushed further into the chamber and the kobald¡¯s losses continued to mount. Nero didn¡¯t even bother to use his trick to dismiss their constructs because he didn¡¯t want to affect the speed at which their section was moving forward when compared to the rest of them. As he and the formation emerged from under the tier over their heads, Nero at least got to see much more of the chamber. Love what you''re reading? Discover and support the author on the platform they originally published on. Instead of there being just one tier overhead, it turned out there were actually two. The chamber¡¯s ceiling was massive and the rings overhead were filled with flashes of light and falling kobalds. More than once he got to see groups of kobalds being pushed over the edges to fall onto the human shields below them. He was however a little surprised to see how easily the human casters dealt with the issue. After the kobalds crashed into them, the shields simply altered phase or something and then let the bodies through. It was like watching bugs smacking into a windshield only to then melt through the glass. The entire time, the kobalds in the center of the chamber didn¡¯t let up on their magical barrage, so the humans couldn¡¯t drop their shields. It made for a very repetitive and boring fight. Without anything better to do, Nero focused on looking around. He even started abusing the soul stuff in the air to create very temporary earthen pillars that acted like little stilts so he could see over the soldiers in front of him. ¡®How pissed would these lizards be if they knew I was using their dead for a height advantage,¡¯ he thought to himself with a smile. The improved angle gave him a pretty solid view of what was going on though, so he didn¡¯t feel too bad about it. He was finally able to see the center of the chamber which had a singular massive black stone pillar going all the way up to the ceiling. From what he could tell, the kobalds were treating it as their alamo as all their defences seemed to radiate from it. On one side of the chamber, he saw the tunnel that the humans had come to close or at the very least take over. It looked like that entire side of the building was actually the mountain, and the tunnel had been excavated into a half circle leading directly into the mountain. Near the top of the tunnel, he could see hanging firepits of dark red flames that were obviously magical. As it was on the other side of the chamber, he was way too far away to examine them with his essence field, but he could still tell that much. With his newfound height advantage, he was also able to see that the humans were having no issues cutting down the kobalds by the thousands. If it weren¡¯t for the enemy¡¯s overwhelming numbers disparity along with their blatantly bloodthirsty and warlike tendencies, he would have found the situation rather depressing. ¡®This is barely a war¡­ it¡¯s more like a massive vermin infestation that needed to be dealt with. I bet I¡¯d make a killing developing kobald-be-gone,¡¯ he thought to himself. He even had the opportunity to practice his scrying. And unlike the last time, he found it much easier to follow the essence flows toward what he wanted. Which, in this case, was the central pillar in the chamber. Luckily, he was able to keep a loose control over his body, which was more than enough to continue stumbling forward along with the rest of the formation, while part of his mind flew across the chamber toward his target. However, the multiple simultaneous perspectives took more than a little getting used to. But, he eventually did get the hang of it. At the base of the pillar, he was able to see a ring of stone plinths filled with glowing rune carvings. Without totally understanding what he was seeing, all he could say was that it reminded him of the ritual carvings that spawned the portal he¡¯d closed. ¡®This must be what they used to grow the tower,¡¯ he concluded. Nero also had a chance to play with the new ability he¡¯d learned from Nick, specifically the alteration of his perception through mental fuckery. He wasn¡¯t sure if Nick had ever mentioned what it was called, so he went with ¡®essence squinting¡¯. At this point, he¡¯d feel like an idiot asking, so he figured it was better to just wait for it to come up in conversation organically. Until then, calling it mental squinting worked fine. Regardless, what his mental squinting showed him was enough to keep him occupied for a good long while. With it, he was able to get a better look at the essence flows without being caught up in their individual paths. He also got a better idea of how essence fields interacted, which he found particularly enlightening. All around him, he was able to see the layers of emotional essence interacting and feeding off each other. If he looked at it in just the right way, it was like a bunch of colored gas balls overlapping throughout the ether. But, most importantly, he could see that they reinforced each other, thereby proving his previous hypothesis. It was like real, physical proof that if you put a group of people in a room, they¡¯d end up all agreeing with each other or end up breaking into groups so they could fight it out. ¡®Physicologists back home would love this,¡¯ he said to himself in wonder. Yet, the most interesting thing he saw was the communal essence field being generated by the casters maintaining the shield. It looked like a solid haze of emotion dedicated to a singular purpose¡­ defense. There was no other concept or emotion included within it. No sense of identity or individualism. Compared to the varied essence fields he saw all around him, it was so uniform that it was a little creepy when he realized what was happening. To put it in perspective, it was like every caster maintaining the shield had separated part of their mind to think of nothing other than maintaining the shield. It was like self-hypnosis or something. He couldn¡¯t help but think about the possible implications of that kind of groupthink. ¡®One of us¡­ One of us¡­ One of us!¡¯ he mentally chanted sarcastically. Reeling back his senses, he turned to Nick and asked, ¡°Hey Nick, did you have to take a class or something to learn how to join the shield without injecting your personal identity?¡± Nick, who looked oddly calm despite being in the middle of a warzone, replied, ¡°Of course. It¡¯s the easiest way to teach emotional linking. After all, the concept of self-preservation is a core belief found in everyone¡¯s identity. Once properly isolated, it is easy to use as a base for communal casting.¡± Nodding at the surprisingly comprehensible answer, Nero went for broke and asked, ¡°So, you¡¯re doing it on purpose? You¡¯re actively separating part of your mind and making it think of nothing other than defense?¡± Nick nodded, happy to have a subject to lecture about. ¡°Essentially, yes. Just like mental partitioning, emotional partitioning works by finding and isolating part of your subconscious mind and linking it to the respective part of your soul. By creating the internal link, you can then use it to empower your spells with a particular concept rather than your identity. You see, by joining it with other spells cast from a similar concept, everyone¡¯s spells can work in harmony. There are many benefits, including increased mental resilience and construct stability. When you -¡± Nero asked quickly, ¡°Wait! You said increased mental resilience, right? Is that why you guys are able to keep the shield up without getting a headache like I always do? Can I do the same thing with my shields on my own?¡± Nick shook his head. ¡°No, No, No. It¡¯s not the same thing at all. If you were to use your own emotions in your spells, it wouldn¡¯t work out nearly as well. Think of it as a communal pool of mental energy. Together, with enough people, the resulting spell has enough power and stability to stand up to any singular spell. When you do it on your own, you¡¯re pitting one small part of your emotional strength against the entire will of whatever is attacking you. To counter a spell shield like the one we¡¯re using, an enemy would have to have communal war casters. And I very much doubt kobalds are capable of that kind of coordinated spell casting.¡± Nero thought about what he¡¯d learned of the kobalds and couldn¡¯t bring himself to disagree. Everything he¡¯d seen had him believing they were nothing but angry toddlers throwing temper tantrums and demanding new lands to take over and shit upon. It took big war leaders and shamans just to get them charging in a singular direction. He very much doubted the casters were capable of working together for anything. Team players, they were not. Nero looked up at the shield over his head and watched as various colors splashed across the golden glass-like structure. Now that he better understood what was happening, he could understand how the shield was holding up. It was like an army of ants trying to take down a self-repairing wall of solid rock. It was both impossible and kind of stupid for them to keep trying. Nero felt like he was onto something, ¡°Hey Nick, why don¡¯t the kobalds try something else then? Why do they keep doing the same thing over and over again without learning anything from it?¡± Nick replied, ¡°Because they¡¯re kobalds Nero. They¡¯re barely sentient. If you took a hundred kobalds and looked at them under an identity spectro-essence analyzer, you¡¯d find a hundred identical identities. They¡¯re not capable of doing anything other than what they know.¡± Nero thought about it for a minute before exclaiming, ¡°They¡¯re freaking clones! Like built from a pattern?¡± Nick frowned at the unfamiliar term before nodding, ¡°Yes, that¡¯s an accurate way of looking at them. Somewhere, in their original plane, there is a society that these kobalds are based off of. Whoever is in charge of this invasion has obviously requested backup and these forces are what they¡¯ve been given. When we actually reach the interior of their mountain, we may find a more diverse identity pool, but I doubt it.¡± Nero found himself reeling at the implications. Considering that this is a fantasy world, were these kobalds like enchanted golems based on a pattern rather than biological beings? Would there be any real difference if they were? Could a spell construct be advanced enough to create a semblance of life like this? Were all species like this? Could humans have come from a singular pattern that diverged over time? Nero cursed, ¡°Son of a bitch, Nick! Do you know what this means?¡± Nick didn¡¯t respond, merely looking over at Nero in confusion. Grinning madly, Nero shouted, ¡°One day, I might end up being able to create a character creation platform and design my own body mod!¡± Nick¡¯s mind took a few seconds to work through the translation he was hearing before paling in fear. Whispering harshly he said, ¡°Nero, that is not a type of magic that you should be thinking about. Flesh crafting of that kind is morally reprehensible and has been the cause of many a house¡¯s downfall. The human species has already been perfected, and any attempt to ¡®improve¡¯ it has resulted in disaster. So, don¡¯t even joke about that.¡± Nero frowned but decided not to argue. One day, he¡¯d get his superhuman body with multiple redundant organs and an adamantium skeleton¡­ probably¡­ if he got around to it. Distracted by his thoughts, he stopped paying attention to the battle and continued walking forward along with the rest of the formation. ¡®Being sent to the back of the battle sucks. What I wouldn¡¯t give for a little action,¡¯ he complained to nobody in particular. As if his silent prayer had been heard by one of the gods of war, a ridiculously loud roar shook the entire chamber. Immediately raising himself up on some earthen stilts, Nero gaped at the sight of a siege wyrm forcing itself out of the tunnel. He couldn¡¯t believe it. It was both the most threatening thing he¡¯d ever seen while also the dumbest possible tactical decision the kobalds could have ever made. Unable to help himself, Nero gave voice to the question in his head, ¡°What in the seven-layered dip of hell do they think that monstrosity is going to accomplish?¡± Nick, having heard Nero¡¯s question and thinking it wasn¡¯t rhetorical, answered, ¡°I just told you, Nero. The kobalds are working off a very limited mental framework. Simply put, they noticed there were a lot of enemies, so they brought out a siege wyrm. I don¡¯t think they thought any further than that. However, this is bad¡­ If that thing brings down the building¡­ well, I¡¯m sure you can guess how bad that¡¯ll be.¡± Whether it was his good fortune or not, Nero and the rest of the formation he was in were probably too far away to do anything about it anyway. He could only hope one of the closer units realized the danger and acted accordingly. ¡®Yeah¡­ I¡¯m not betting my beautiful pale ass on these idiots being smarter than the geniuses who developed our chamber attack plan. Morons will probably just throw bodies at the problem and hope for the best,¡¯ he mentally grumbled. ¡°Nick. I¡¯m going out for a bit. Don¡¯t wait up and DON¡¯T tell Cathleen,¡± he said before slipping away and ignoring whatever nonsense Nick began shouting about. ¡®Eh, he¡¯ll get over it. Besides, I¡¯m sure he¡¯ll thank me later,¡¯ he reassured himself. Chapter 207 - Unleashing the beast. Academian Quincy and the other evaluators had been on many missions where they were forced to do nothing but observe. As members of the Royal Academy, their central purpose was the collection, protection, and verification of all Oglivarchian knowledge. And while none of them were all that ¡®dedicated¡¯ to that particular cause, they still abided by it. However, sometimes it was difficult to set aside their humanity and watch these weaker cities struggle against such preventable disasters. But, how else would they learn and grow? Simply providing them with the requisite knowledge would hinder their leveling and weaken the kingdom as a whole. Yet, it still weighed on them to stand by and watch them pointlessly waste lives. ¡°I thought they¡¯d progressed enough to have trained war mages? Why didn¡¯t they just use curved shields?¡± asked Scholar Yarbarrow. Academian Quincy didn¡¯t bother replying, the last thing he wanted to do was get into an argument about politics. Instead, Scholar Idrius took the bait and answered Scholar Yarbarrow¡¯s question. ¡°While they do have several trained war mages, they aren¡¯t very high level or particularly skilled. Most of the ¡®wars¡¯ they¡¯ve faced are local noble wars and some bandit eliminations. You have to keep in mind that before the density shift started there weren¡¯t even any local essence anomalies of note. At best, the local threats could be handled by a squad or two of soldiers. Don¡¯t let their city¡¯s age fool you, due to their rebellion, their progress has been practically reset,¡± she explained in a lecturing tone. Scholar Vaxas muttered, ¡°It still seems like someone should have thought of curving their shields when barreling into a fire zone.¡± Academian Quincy tuned them out, not wanting to listen to their debate. After all, their opinions didn¡¯t matter. The end was already predestined. As the war progressed, the military would learn and adapt. It was inevitable. Besides, the city¡¯s evolving tactical doctrine wasn¡¯t what they were here to evaluate. His entire focus remained on Lord Walker. Even now, hidden behind a wall of soldiers and with nothing to do, the young man was still experimenting and learning. ¡®What kind of inner strength and indomitable will must he have to continue pushing himself like this?¡¯ he wondered. Considering how much kobald spellfire was reigning down on the humans, he and the other evaluators had been forced to hide near the ceiling on the back wall. They were standing on constructed platforms anchored into the wall and hidden with essence diffusion techniques. He doubted that anyone could see them, even if they bothered to turn around and look up at them. As a result, due to their distance, he was forced to use a vision-enhancing spell to monitor the young lord. Although he could have used a scrying technique, it wasn¡¯t worth the center considering how chaotic the ether was at the moment. While his fellow evaluators argued over what techniques and tactics Dorchester¡¯s army should be using, of course taking into account their city¡¯s development level, Academian Quincy was focused entirely on the new movement technique Lord Walker was displaying. Narrowing his eyes and increasing the power he was feeding into his spell form, his vision zoomed in on the area around Lord Walker. With how close the soldiers were packed, it was difficult to see exactly what was happening, but luckily he was able to see enough to formulate a hypothesis or two. Fed up with the argument being directly transmitted into his brain, he shouted, ¡°Would you all please stop talking¡­ I¡¯m trying to think here. If you want to continue your argument, one of you can manage a separate communication web. This one will be reserved for our actual observations concerning the unique we¡¯re supposed to be evaluating. Am I clear?¡± Sufficiently chastened, the conversation ended. Whether or not they did in fact construct another communication web, he honestly couldn¡¯t care less. Scholar Idrius asked, ¡°Is he walking on tiny earthen walls?¡± Smirking, Academian Quincy replied, ¡°Yes, yes he is. If you look closely, you¡¯ll see the spell forms stamping into existence near his feet. He isn¡¯t even bothering to use his hands as a medium anymore. He¡¯s running his center through his legs and projecting the spell form above where he¡¯s stepping. I¡¯m guessing he¡¯s using his ability to restrict or alter the spell to get the effect he wants. The moment he takes his weight off his back foot, the pillar underneath dissipates and a new one appears in front of him.¡± Scholar Idrius, obviously impressed, replied, ¡°That¡¯s a surprising demonstration of spell mastery for someone of his level. Do you think he¡¯s altering the spell form or is he just manipulating the essence directly to get the intended result?¡± Academian Quincy¡¯s eyes remained locked on the young lord, making sure not to miss a thing. ¡°I have no idea. As best I can tell, the spell form looks like a standard ¡®earthen wall¡¯, but I can¡¯t be sure without having him perform it under an essence monitor. Either way, it¡¯s an incredible leap forward for him. I also think he¡¯s directly imbuing the spell forms with the ambient soul remnants to power them. Either that or his speed at recapturing his center has made a similar level of advancement.¡± Chiming in, Scholar Yarbarrow replied, ¡°I honestly don¡¯t know which would be more impressive.¡± At that, the hidden evaluators all went silent, each contemplating the implications of what they were witnessing. Academian Quincy was the first to notice the approaching siege wyrm. He could feel it coming up the tunnel and for the first time in a while he turned away from his target. After sending out a scry to see what the kobalds were up to, he couldn¡¯t help but smile while ordering, ¡°Everyone pay attention. This should prove interesting.¡± ¡ª-- No longer able to keep up his ¡®pillar-stilts¡¯ with how fast he was moving, Nero¡¯s height returned to normal. As expected, his small size once again served as an advantage allowing him to duck and dodge his way through the crowd of soldiers without issue. Unfortunately, the chamber was massive and he quickly found himself needing to pop his head up every once in a while to reorient himself. On the plus side, it gave him the opportunity to keep track of how the fight was progressing with the siege wyrm. Every time he looked, he was able to see a snapshot of the situation and it was becoming increasingly maddening. The brilliant tactical minds of Dorchester¡¯s elite captains had responded to the wyrm¡¯s appearance by waiting patiently for it to reach the front lines. For Nero, it was like watching a car crash happen in slow motion. He didn¡¯t see a single unit doing anything to prepare for what was coming. There were no defenses being set up, or massive ritual magics being prepared. Even being as far away as he was, he continued to hope to see something to be done, but every time he looked there was simply nothing. As he rushed through the soldiers, he did his best not to allow his growing sense of unease to distract him. But, the further he ran, the worse it got. He tried focusing on whatever idle thoughts he could to serve as a distraction. For example, when he got far enough away from his unit, he noticed his mental connections to Nick and the unit snapping, while the connection to the command web remained perfectly fine. He also couldn¡¯t help but notice the uniforms of the soldiers all around him changing as he passed through the various units. But, nothing seemed to hold his attention long enough to matter. He felt like he was working himself up to a panic attack, and he couldn¡¯t understand why. Faster and faster he ran, doing everything he could to avoid colliding with anyone. He flew past groups of injured soldiers being led off the field along with the corpses of kobalds being stacked against the back wall. But he couldn¡¯t bring himself to stop even when he knew he was passing dead soldiers that he should be saving. It wasn¡¯t until he approached a particularly scared group of young soldiers that he realized what was happening. The combined essence fields of what he assumed to be fresh recruits were like a beacon in the ether radiating fear and concern. The sense of discontinuity between what ¡®he¡¯ was feeling and what ¡®they¡¯ were feeling was enough to snap him out of his growing panic. Nero felt his racing heart calm down as his pace slowed to something less reckless. ¡®Holy crap, it¡¯s like the combined emotions work together to form a morale buff, or in this case debuff,¡¯ he thought to himself. It made sense after a second or two of consideration. He¡¯d already determined that people¡¯s emotions could influence each other. And it wasn¡¯t surprising that the closer he got to the siege wyrm there would be more and more people panicking. Unfortunately, nothing came to mind when he thought about what if anything he could do about it. Other than simply being aware of the phenomenon and refusing to let it influence him, that is. ¡®What they need are commissars or something to psyche up the troops and encourage their zealotry,¡¯ he decided. All he could do was continue his rush toward the fight while focusing on keeping his own emotions stable. After a minute or two, he was like a bubble of confidence and determination floating through a sea of despair. Yet, throughout it all, he continued to pop his head up to check on the siege wyrm¡¯s progress. Until finally, when the situation changed. He raised himself up with a couple of pillars under his feet and saw a second siege wyrm pushing its head out of the tunnel while the first one reached the closest battle lines it could find. Even though he was much closer, he was still far enough away to see everything from an outsider¡¯s perspective. Instead of dropping back down and continuing his rush, he took a moment to see what would happen and get a better idea of the situation. Unauthorized usage: this tale is on Amazon without the author''s consent. Report any sightings. He watched as the humans began throwing spears with chains attached to them over the sides of the beast. Near its stubby legs, he saw groups of soldiers hacking away at its legs. The shield over the unit¡¯s heads flared bright gold as the siege wyrm¡¯s massive maw tried to bite down on them. As the siege wyrm pushed forward, he watched as humans were being crushed under its feet and the shields began to fail. Holding back the beast¡¯s attacks was one thing, but the shields simply weren¡¯t strong enough to stand up to the multi-ton beast''s physical presence. Every time the beast stomped down on a group of soldiers, he couldn¡¯t stop himself from wincing. Although it was impossible, he could swear he heard the screams and sounds of breaking bones despite how far away he was from the fight. He did see a few people casting spells that splashed uselessly against the siege wyrm''s flanks. He wasn¡¯t able to tell if it was a matter of spell resistance or the inherent density of the beast¡¯s essence field, but he could tell that what they were doing wasn¡¯t working. At the rate the battle was progressing, by the time he got over there, it might already be too late for him to do anything. More and more chains made their way around the beast''s neck until its forward progress ground to a halt. Yet Nero could tell it wasn¡¯t over just yet. He wasn¡¯t sure why, but he just knew that something bad was about to happen. And as if the great god Murphy was listening to his thoughts, he watched in horror as the beast started thrashing in panic. Nero could do nothing but watch with impotent rage as the siege wyrm toppled over and rolled itself into one of the massive pillars holding up the tier over the soldiers¡¯ heads. The greater fight happening throughout the entire chamber seemed to pause as everyone turned to watch the thrashing beast try to use the pillar to scrape off the restricting chains holding it down. Despite how loud its roars were, they were overshadowed by the sound of cracking stone. Chunks of pillar began breaking off and falling down onto the soldiers nearby. Nero couldn¡¯t help but wonder if the beast¡¯s own perception of the spell stone was contributing to the effect. Could something that big passively convince a construct that it was real? How long would the chunks of broken stone remain before they broke apart and returned to the ether? Was the overall pattern even affected by the localized disruption? Hundreds of questions about how spell constructs could be affected by the people around them, not to mention the world itself, rushed through Nero¡¯s head as he stood paralyzed, futilely watching the disaster happen without being able to do anything. As he feared, the pillar finally gave out, and the entire tier above them came crashing down. Not just the one above the fighting, but even the one above that as they were both connected to the same support pillar. Thousands of humans and kobalds reigned down along with the rubble onto the soldiers below, shattering the shields and burying the troops under the rubble. It was in a word¡­ horrifying. Even worse, it didn¡¯t seem to be enough to stop the siege wyrm. The resulting chaos from the collapsing tiers had disrupted the groups of soldiers holding it down, and now it was free. Like a wingless dragon emerging from the earth, it forced its way out of the rubble and stood tall over the destruction It raised its bloody maw and roared in victory, shaking the entire chamber with its furious declaration of victory. Despite how injured it looked, Nero could tell it wasn¡¯t nearly done. In fact, it was just getting started. All around him, he could feel the soldier¡¯s essence fields broadcasting their fear and hopelessness. Even though underneath that sense of despair there was a sense of determination and willingness to fight until the end, Nero could tell that their spirits were broken. Something about the entire situation seemed to just piss him off. All of these lifelong soldiers, who¡¯d fought against who knows how many bandits and monsters were scared of a stupid lizard. Granted, it was a big-ass stupid lizard, but it was still just a stupid lizard. ¡®So what?¡­ They tried fighting it with the same tactics they¡¯d used in an open field and failed miserably. Now they¡¯re just going to give up? Or more likely, try the same dumbass plan again? Hoping and praying that his time would turn out differently?¡¯ he asked himself sarcastically. With his fist clenched in rage, he shouted, ¡°NO! Not only no, but HELL NO! I¡¯m gonna mount that damn thing¡¯s head on my wall and turn whatever¡¯s left into a pair of pimped-out leather boots!¡± He could feel the soldiers all around him reeling back in shock at his outburst. Deciding that he was done fucking around, he altered his course and headed directly toward the siege wrym. Knowing that he¡¯d have to cut through the front lines, and THEN through a good portion of the kobald¡¯s defenses, he reached out and collected as much essence as he could to form some solid fucking mage armor. As he knew he¡¯d need the brainpower, he let go of the connection to the command web he¡¯d been holding on to and focused on imbuing the mage armor with the concept of absolute defense. He felt his center reserves drop like a rock and instinctively reached out to refill them from the soul stuff permeating the ether. With a grin, he kept pumping more and more center into the armor, feeling it practically vibrate over his skin. It reached a point where there was more center in the mage armor than he was capable of producing. Somehow, it became easier and easier to maintain, as if it were becoming self-propagating and actively sucking his center on its own. The resulting film over his body felt more like an enchantment than an actual spell technique. As he pushed through the soldiers in front of him, he approached the kobald lines at a run. Rather than deal with trying to explain what he was doing, he stamped his trusty pillar spell into the ether and watched as the ground erupted in front of him. The fighting line was pushed open by a 10 ft tall 4 ft wide earthen pillar composed of essence charged with his center along with a generous portion of soul stuff and no small amount of his hate. Stumbling off the sides, the soldiers along with the kobalds stepped back, unsure of what was happening. Figuring he¡¯d take advantage of his distraction, he drew his sword along with another from his personal space and rushed forward. And like Johnny coming through the door with an axe, Nero exploded through the pillar the moment he dismissed it, his twin swords glowing with imbued essence. Shouting like a madman, he screamed, ¡°Come on you fucks! You think a clone army of midget lizards is gonna stop me!¡± With his heart pumping loudly enough to be felt in his ears, Nero hopped over the kobald¡¯s wall and rushed directly into their forces. Although he felt numerous weapons raking against his mage armor, his continuous feeding of center into his defenses made him practically invincible to their pathetically weak attacks. Hacking and slashing, he didn¡¯t allow himself to be slowed down. Further and further into the lines he pushed, eventually running into surprised kobalds who weren¡¯t expecting to be fighting anyone just yet. That of course worked out just fine for Nero as he was able to swipe at them with his swords as he ran by. Leaving nothing but confusion and bleeding kobalds in his wake, he barrelled through the lines like a battering ram. He could tell that he was using the same type of telekinesis he did back when he¡¯d fought the archer assassin in the forest. In front of him, there was an almost hazy outline of force pushing aside anything that stood in his way. Inside his center, he felt like there was a storm¡­ a towering twister sucking down soul stuff and pumping out glorious, prime, Grade-A ¡®Nero¡¯ from his center out into the ether. He was converting whatever leftover soul potential there was floating around in the ether and infusing it with his singular desire to get to where he wanted to go. Considering how poorly organized the kobalds were, it wasn¡¯t surprising that they struggled to come up with an appropriate response to his suicidal charge. He knew for a fact that if he stopped moving forward, the kobalds he¡¯d alerted to his presence would swarm and eventually bring him down. So, he just didn¡¯t stop moving forward. While he ran, he continued to slash throats and hilt punch whatever kobald managed to look at him in fear as he ran by. Those few who did manage to strike out at him were held back by his mage armor charged with who knows how much center dedicated solely to his defense. He was an unstoppable force of nature¡­ as long as he didn¡¯t stop. On and on he pushed, rushing through the kobald lines like a bullet, leaving nothing but confusion and death in his wake. As the kobalds were shorter than he was, he kept his head low but made sure to unerringly head toward the siege wyrm he was committed to killing. His progress was fast, almost too fast. He leaped over the short walls and avoided whatever groups he could that had the larger kobalds among them, all the while laughing in excitement at what he was about to do. Occasionally, he was even able to surprise a shaman or caster who hadn¡¯t been paying attention. He didn¡¯t stop or slow down for anything until he eventually got close enough to sense the siege wyrm with his essence field. In his mind, it was like running into a wall of disruption throughout the ether. Compared to any other beast he¡¯d seen, the damn thing¡¯s essence field was like the density of molasses. ¡®No wonder the spells they were throwing around didn¡¯t do shit to it,¡¯ he said to himself. But it didn¡¯t matter, he wasn¡¯t planning on killing it just yet anyway. He had a better idea. Seeing one of the mud huts the kobalds were using as a fortification, Nero used an earthen pillar spell to launch himself up onto the roof. And as expected, the moment he poked his head above the masses, he felt multiple spells heading his way. Dropping one of his swords, he pulled out his trusty shield, The Wall 2.0, so he could hide behind it. As he ducked underneath it, he began imbuing it with so much center that the damn thing began to actually glow. After making sure his arms and legs were completely underneath the large tower shield, he figured it should hold out long enough for what he wanted to do. Rather than waiting to see if his preparations were sufficient, he instead focused on casting his trusty artillery spell. With how much soul stuff from the dead humans there was in the ether, there was more than enough to overpower the hell out of it. Not bothering to aim it all that well, he relied on just pointing it at the siege wyrm¡¯s essence bubble. Grinning like a lunatic, Nero muttered under his breath, ¡°Hey big fella, why don¡¯t you come over here and pick on someone your own size.¡± Like an angry red glowing paintball, the spell shell launched toward the beast over the heads of the kobalds. Taking advantage of his current elevation, he completely bypassed their defenses. While hiding under his shield, he began charging another round while watching the shell fly toward its target, its reflection lighting up the kobald¡¯s spell shields underneath it. Just as he¡¯d hoped, the spell shell exploded beautifully, slamming directly into the siege wyrm¡¯s side and grabbing its attention. Although it didn¡¯t do nearly enough damage to actually injure it, he still laughed victoriously. Seeing the wyrm''s hateful gaze looking his way, he fired another shot. Just as he did, he felt the kobald¡¯s spells land all around him, shattering the roof of the building he was using and sending him tumbling into the room below. Unsurprisingly, he found himself surrounded by now injured kobalds struggling to understand what was happening. With his mage armor still up and running, he was completely unhurt. In fact, he felt great. Hearing the roar of the angered wyrm, he muttered, ¡°Well, that¡¯s phase one of the plan complete.¡± At the edge of his essence field, he could sense the giant blob of disrupted flows heading toward him, indicating that the siege wyrm was heading his way. Shaking off the rubble, Nero hacked and slashed his way out of the room, killing several injured kobalds along the way. Figuring he needed to keep the damn thing¡¯s attention, he launched another spell shell at the approaching beast, barely bothering to charge it. Like he¡¯d hoped, the furious wyrm ran over the kobald''s lines, killing them by the dozens and wrecking what little defense they had, not caring in the least about how much damage he was doing along the way. With a grin, Nero put away his shield and pulled out another one of the spare swords he¡¯d stored in his personal space. ¡°Time for a merry chase you big dumb bastard,¡± he said happily before running off toward the other siege wyrm. All around him, the kobalds looked on in confusion, unsure of what they should be paying attention to. Which was the bigger threat? The crazy ass smooth skin that wanted to die, or the rampaging siege wyrm which was currently decimating their forces against its orders. Charging through the lines, Nero muttered happily, ¡°Stupid ass lizard clones¡­¡± Chapter 208 - Nero unleashed. Cathleen was moving up and down the lines, maintaining a distance between 10 and 15 paces from the fighting. Her well-trained perception field allowed her to keep track of the battle and update her orders as needed. And while part of her would have preferred to be crossing spears with her enemy, being the battle leader didn¡¯t afford her that luxury. ¡°Collins, switch out your team with Hendricks and get your people healed. This battle won¡¯t end anytime soon, so there¡¯s no reason to risk it,¡± she ordered tersely. After watching carefully, she nodded to herself in appreciation of how well her troops were performing. Despite the majority of them being penal conscripts, she hadn¡¯t had any trouble with them. In fact, their morale was overall quite high, and their dedication to the cause was nothing short of absolute. Although very few were all that strong, they worked well together and looked out for each other. Thinking of the penal conscript¡¯s defacto leader, she used her perception field to track down the former assassin. Unsurprisingly, she saw him in the thick of the fighting, shouting out encouragement to everyone around him. Through her field, she could sense his conviction as he loudly declared, ¡°FOR LORD WALKER!¡± before decimating another group of kobalds with his ability. Shaking her head in amusement, she mentally turned away from the incomprehensible sight to check on the rest of the battle. Her senses were suddenly distracted by a large shield erupting in front of a group of her troops. She watched as another surprising convert to Lord Walker¡¯s cause lashed out at the kobald¡¯s defenses, shattering an earthen wall with his shield ability. She had to admit that Captain Angleton¡¯s skill at wielding such a defensive ability offensively was incredibly impressive. Sweeping her perception field over the battle, she watched carefully as her troops pushed forward. While she knew the sergeants she¡¯d appropriated from Captain Angelton¡¯s forces were well-disciplined and capable, she refused to leave anything up to chance. ¡°Sergeant Blackwood, reinforce the left flank and take out that group of leaders!¡± she barked over the unit connection. Watching the sergeant carry out her orders, she recalled how well he¡¯d handled the breaching maneuver into the chamber. At first, she¡¯d thought they would have had trouble finding volunteers, but she¡¯d been pleasantly surprised at how the sergeant had handled it. He¡¯d wasted no time in finding willing penal conscripts who were willing to brave the suicidal duty for the sake of having their sentences reduced. When it was all said and done, the sergeant had collected the names and identification records of everyone involved while organizing the entire maneuver. She¡¯d barely been involved at all. Between the sergeant and the former assassin, they¡¯d worked the penal conscripts up into a frenzy, resulting in a surplus of volunteers. As a result, casualties had been quite low considering how dangerous their breach into the chamber had been. Looking back on it, she believed they¡¯d performed better than even a seasoned assault group would have in a similar situation. Yes, all in all, she would say her experience so far as a battle leader had been a success. Her self-congratulatory thoughts stumbled to a halt when she heard the unmistakable sound of a siege wyrm emerging from the kobald tunnel on the other side of the chamber. To see what was happening, she planted her spear and used it as a lever to hold herself up. Just as she thought, there was indeed a siege wyrm being deployed. Sighing, she couldn¡¯t stop herself from cursing at the kobald¡¯s stupidity. Releasing such a monster into a confined space, even one as large as the chamber they were fighting in, was tantamount to madness. While she listened in on the command web to hear how the army planned to handle it, she received a personal connection request from Lord Verena. Opening the connection and immediately sensing Lord Verena¡¯s panic, she asked, ¡°What is it?¡± ¡°Nero took off to go fight the siege wyrm! He slipped through the crowd before I could do anything to stop him! Should I go after him?¡± he asked quickly, while his entire psyche was radiating worry. Shocked, she unconsciously looked around at the troops who¡¯d gathered under Lord Walker¡¯s banner. ¡°No. Let him do what he feels he needs to. I¡¯m sure he¡¯s smart enough to get himself out of whatever trouble he ends up in. Besides, I¡¯m sure the evaluators are watching over him from wherever they are. They¡¯ll be sure to keep him safe, or at least make sure he survives to learn whatever lesson they decide to teach him.¡± Although Lord Verana didn¡¯t bother responding, she was able to feel his acceptance over the connection before he closed it. Returning her attention to the battle, she continued to wield her unit connection like a maestro using their baton to skillfully conduct an orchestra. As the battle leader, she had a job to do and to do it, she would need to keep her mind on the here and now. Meanwhile, the little lord would just have to take care of himself. ¡ª-- Nero¡¯s heart was pumping so fast he felt like his blood had turned into battery acid. This was exactly the type of feeling of adventure he¡¯d been chasing since he¡¯d arrived in this crazy world. Surviving on a knife¡¯s edge, fighting hordes of monsters while running from certain death. He simply couldn¡¯t stop himself from laughing like a madman and embracing the insanity. As he ran through the confused kobalds, he could see groups of the larger lizards coming together to try and surround him. Apparently, having exposed himself by attacking the siege wyrm, he¡¯d called too much attention to himself. Perhaps due to his incredibly low opinion of kobald intelligence, he found himself surprised at how quickly they had adapted to his particular brand of warfare. Despite not staying in one place for more than a second or two, he could tell that the stupid kobalds were finally catching on to his game. While he was occasionally able to pelt the chasing siege wyrm in the face with one of his spell shells, most of his concentration was busy dealing with the slimy lizards cutting off his escape routes. ¡®Even dumb-ass lizards are capable of learning. Who knew?¡¯ he remarked to himself with a smile. While he hadn¡¯t technically fleshed out this part of the plan, he was nothing if not adaptable. Besides, the middle bits of any plan were always a little tricky. But, he didn¡¯t let it get him down. All he had to do was think about what resources he had available and come up with a counterstrategy that would see him out of his current predicament. Easy, right? To buy himself some time, he rushed through the doors of one of the larger mud buildings the kobalds had put up. He ignored the surprised kobalds on the first floor and rushed up the stairs. Not knowing what the second-floor kobalds were doing, and not really caring, he didn¡¯t waste any time before swiftly cutting them down without mercy. Left with several kobald bodies spread out over what looked like an armory, Nero quickly tipped over a large table so he could use it to block the stairs. As a result, weapons and armor spilled out all over the floor. Not having any better ideas, he tipped the table over and used it to block the door. Feeling the entire building shake as the siege wyrm let out another roar, Nero felt the hairs on the back of his head stand up. Something was telling him that he was really running out of time. He was behind enemy lines, surrounded by murderous kobalds, and an overgrown mutated Komodo dragon with a hate on for him and him alone. He knew he probably deserved it. After all, the spell shells he¡¯d shot at the siege wyrm HAD done a bit of damage, so it was understandable that the beast was hell-bent on getting its revenge. And while that HAD been the crux of his plan, he still felt the beast was overreacting. In fact, it brought to mind the time he¡¯d been caught smoking weed at a girlfriend''s family reunion. It wasn¡¯t like he didn¡¯t understand what she had been angry about, but the level of anger she had displayed seemed a little unnecessary. Honestly, it wasn¡¯t like he¡¯d slept with her sister or something. Panting hard to catch his breath, he felt the table beginning to buckle as the kobalds tried to force their way in. Leaning his back against the table to hold it in place, he closed his eyes and tried to think. He figured he had at most two minutes before the building was brought down on top of him, whether due to the siege wyrm arriving or kobald casters tracking him down. Checking on his mage armor, he was happy to see it sucking in essence from the ether in addition to the essence he¡¯d corralled into his compression field. Considering how much soul stuff he¡¯d crammed into its identity, he wasn¡¯t all that surprised to see it basically maintaining itself. The small section of his mind that was dedicated to managing it was barely taxed, and as a result, he felt that he had plenty more available in the brain tank. Looking around, he saw several windows that the kobalds had probably intended to use as firing positions. Yet, for him, they would serve as a convenient, if slightly stupid, way out of this mess. If you stumble upon this narrative on Amazon, it''s taken without the author''s consent. Report it. Happy that he wouldn¡¯t have to blow off the roof to make his escape, Nero concentrated on coming up with a solution to the growing number of kobalds being dedicated to tracking him down. What he needed was a distraction. Or at the very least, a way to cause enough damage that they focused on that instead of him. Honestly, the fact that they were ignoring the giant siege wyrm wrecking its way through their defenses was more than a little flattering. He didn¡¯t think he deserved this much attention comparatively. As the table he was propping up began to fall apart under the kobald axes, Nero couldn¡¯t stop himself from grinning at the idea he¡¯d just had. When considering what distraction he might use, he thought of a particular spell he¡¯d accidentally created. Namely, the ¡®sticky flamethrower¡¯ spell he¡¯d made when trying to come up with alternatives to his ¡®acid ball¡¯ spell. ¡®This is perfect! It¡¯s like all the stories back home. I¡¯m utilizing a seemingly random piece of knowledge that I learned while on my hero¡¯s journey to get myself out of a jam and defeat the evil monsters that have surrounded me,¡¯ he said to himself happily. Quickly reaching out with his essence field, Nero refreshed his collapsed essence reserves, noting that they were already larger than he¡¯d thought they¡¯d be. ¡®I¡¯ll have to look into that later,¡¯ he dutifully reminded himself. Setting the thought onto the metaphorical backburner, he focused on carving the ¡®sticky flamethrower¡¯ spell while linking it to his essence field over his shoulder. Having learned his lesson, he made sure to place it far enough away from his face to avoid another unfortunate accident. After all, it would be rather embarrassing if the kobalds he was massacring witnessed him injuring himself with his awesomeness. Finished with his preparations, he took a few deep breaths to psyche himself up. Just then, he felt the wood split right next to his head. Jumping slightly in surprise, he glanced over to see an axe head being yanked back out of the table. ¡°OK. Time to go,¡± he muttered to himself. Racing across the room, he leaped out of the window onto the horde of kobalds down below. Laughing madly in excitement, he cast an earthen pillar on the ground while activating the ¡®sticky flamethrower spell¡¯ hovering over his left shoulder. Below him, the earthen pillar rose up to meet him while pushing aside the kobalds, meanwhile, he raked the flames across the crowd. He felt like he was spraying concert crazies with a firehose, and it was AWESOME. Unfortunately, he misjudged the pillar¡¯s speed and ended up directly colliding with it. Dropping his sword, he was forced to wrap his hands around the pillar like a koala while trying and failing to catch the breath he¡¯d just knocked out of himself. ¡®Well, that worked well enough¡­ technically,¡¯ he reassured himself while climbing up on the 3-foot square pillar. Mentally spinning the ¡®sticky flamethrower¡¯ spell form, he watched in glee as the kobalds ran around spreading the flames. Unfortunately, he could already feel the siege wyrm barreling toward him on the edges of his essence field, and worse yet, another volley of spells was heading toward him from the kobald casters. ¡®They really couldn¡¯t give a shit how many of their own they end up killing in order to get me,¡¯ he remarked to himself in pride. Knowing he didn¡¯t have much time, he stamped another turret spell form which he¡¯d become increasingly familiar with. Grimacing at the mental effort it took to maintain all the spells he was playing with, he opened his center further, suffering the sweet burn of the soul stuff in the ether being rapidly changed into pure unadulterated ¡®NERO¡¯. Wondering if this was what it felt like to mainline adrenaline, he laughed wildly while launching his spell shell at the siege wyrm¡¯s snout. Not bothering to wait to see if he hit, he turned the spell form around so he could fire another shot directly into the kobald horde beneath him. As he spun around, he was treated to a kobald spear deflecting itself off his forehead, not even transferring enough kinetic energy for him to feel it. Luckily, it didn¡¯t throw off his aim too much and his spell shell exploded into a giant fireball, spewing dust and kobald parts all over the place. ¡®Super mage-armor fueled by the souls of the dead for the win!¡¯ he mentally shouted while uncontrollably giggling. ¡°Geronimo!¡± he shouted as he leaped off his pillar into the smoke-filled aftermath. Checking on his flamethrower, he noticed that despite having fueled it with soul stuff, the essence it was pulling out was quickly draining his collapsed reserves. While the soul stuff could charge and fuel a spell, the spell form itself still built the spell out of the essence in the ether. Or in this case, since it was linked to the essence he¡¯d collected, it created the flames out of his reserves. Not knowing how he could keep the spell following him without having it linked to his reserves, he was forced to reach out and start gathering more essence through his field. Mentally, he was really starting to feel the strain. Between having to pay attention to his feet as he ran through the kobalds, aiming the ¡®sticky flamethrower¡¯, maintaining his mage armor, and now collapsing more essence while on the run, he was beginning to feel a little loopy. ¡®Ok¡­ more than a little loopy,¡¯ he admitted to himself while uncontrollably giggling at all the chaos he was spreading. In the wake of his attack, his essence field was showing him just how badly he¡¯d hurt the kobalds. There were fires everywhere, and that was before his former position was bombarded by the kobald casters. ¡°That¡¯ll teach them to stop lobbing their spells like they were just expecting me to patiently wait for them to arrive,¡± he muttered while pulling out another pair of spare swords from his personal space. Idly wiping his face with his sleeve, he noticed that his nose was bleeding quite heavily. ¡®When did I get hit in the face,¡¯ he wondered before shrugging it off and continuing on his way. While he tried to stick to whatever cover he could find, it was rather pointless considering the fact he was constantly spewing fire all over the place. Luckily, he was able to still occasionally fire off a spell shell or two at the siege wyrm in between his bouts of essence collection¡­ just to keep the big beastie interested. He really needn¡¯t have bothered, as the number of spell shells he¡¯d already thrown had begun to cause some serious damage to the siege wyrm, and as a result, it was now quite out of its mind in rage. It was smart enough to know who was responsible for its suffering, and the entirety of its pathetic little mind was dedicated to wiping out the infuriating smooth skin with every fiber of its considerable being. Nero, however, was currently far more concerned with the fact that he was finally nearing the other siege wyrm. While his original strategy was to somehow goad the two beasts into fighting each other, the closer he got to that part of the plan, the less likely he thought his chances of success became. Between the number of kobalds now paying attention to the uncontrollable flames spreading all over the place and the siege wyrm dedicated to ending him, Nero couldn¡¯t see how to complete the incredibly well-thought-out plan he¡¯d come up with. Turning a corner, he nearly stumbled into a wall when he saw a group of kobald casters standing there¡­ waiting for him. Somehow, they¡¯d hidden themselves from his senses. He should have known something was off when the small area looked completely empty of kobalds, but he¡¯d been paying attention to too many things and he just hadn¡¯t had the brainpower available to process the obvious warning signs. Before he could backtrack, slip away, or otherwise avoid what was coming, he watched as the twenty or thirty robed and angy kobalds launched their spells at him from point-blank range. With no better options, he instinctively ducked down into a ball while covering his head with one arm and protecting his junk with the other. Mentally, he turned his ¡®sticky flamethrower¡¯ toward the kobalds and threw the rest of his attention toward his mage armor. Closing his eyes, he gritted his teeth and demanded that the mage armor hold. Not just hold, but HOLD! There was a moment¡­ just a moment¡­ where it felt like all of reality seemed to pause. He felt the ether shake as his mage armor fundamentally changed. It was no longer just a defensive technique tied to his mind and fueled by the soul stuff around him. It was now a fixture in reality¡­ a true shield that had one and only purpose¡­ to protect its owner from any and all damage. Time started again, and he felt the spells explode. With his ethereal senses, he saw each spell alter the surroundings as its caster intended. Flames spread, acid splashed, and icicles exploded into razor-sharp shards. The sound was a cacophony of destruction that melted the very ground he stood over. Even with his eyes tightly shut, he could still see it all. Seconds that felt like minutes passed before the spell fire ended. Nero, feeling confused, stood up and hesitantly opened his eyes, only to widen them in shock. To his left and right, the surrounding buildings were in shambles. Fires were everywhere. The spell stone ground had been chewed up into gravel. But in front of him, he could see the kobald casters running around in panic as the spell form hovering over his shoulder continued to spew its fiery death into their ranks. ¡°I¡¯m still alive¡­¡± he said to himself in wonder. Barely believing his luck, he did what he did best and turned around intending to run away. Unfortunately, the moment he did he saw another horde of furious kobalds racing toward him, screaming and hissing to high heaven. Behind them, he saw the siege wyrm in all its glory, trudging forward while towering over them with its ruined snout due to his generous spell fire. Glancing around quickly, he saw that he was well and truly surrounded by destruction¡­ both imminent and present. The fires and broken stone under his feet, the smoke-filled air, the burning kobald casters, along with the injured kobalds emerging from the rubble of the building all around him, everything came together into a tableau of war that was straight out of one of those fantasy murals he used to download for the background on his phone. Feeling his center overflowing with potential as it sucked up the soul stuff floating around in the ether, Nero reflexively refilled his reserves by collapsing his essence field. All the while, his ¡®sticky flamethrower¡¯ continued to spin around, spreading its payload out over the ground like a sprinkler. Suddenly remembering something he once heard when he was a kid¡­ possibly from his time enjoying professional wrestling, Sportcenter, or maybe just some old movie. Either way, this moment seemed especially appropriate for the quote he had in mind. Pulling out his trusty shield, ¡®The Wall 2.0¡¯, he screamed at the top of his lungs, ¡°YOU CAN¡¯T STOP ME, YOU CAN ONLY HOPE TO CONTAIN ME!¡¯ before running full bore into the flaming kobald casters, laughing madly the entire way. The adrenaline was making his entire body feel like it was on fire, but he couldn¡¯t bring himself to care. There were kobalds to kill and a brilliant plan to enact. He would not be stopped. He couldn¡¯t be stopped. He was unstoppable. With his shield leading the way, he plowed through the kobalds and out of the kill box they¡¯d hoped would be his grave. Behind him, all he left were screaming kobalds who were too busy blaming each other to notice the siege wyrm bearing down on them. In the distance, the kobalds could still hear the mocking laughter of the smooth skin who was quickly becoming something of a legend¡­ one which the survivors would threaten their hatchlings with to keep them from misbehaving. Chapter 209 - The judicious application of cheat codes. Hovering above the battlefield, the evaluators followed Lord Walker as he made his way through the troops. They watched as he occasionally used his clever interpretation of an ¡®earthen wall¡¯ spell to raise himself up so he could adjust his course. ¡°Why doesn¡¯t he just do a quick scry? He knows how right?¡± asked Scholar Idrius. Academian Quincy snorted in amusement. ¡°You know he does. But, considering the fact that he¡¯s probably powering all his spells with the soul remnants in the ether, I don¡¯t think it occurred to him. He¡¯s probably also still too used to seeing with his eyes,¡± he replied. Over the private connection he and the evaluators shared, Academian Quincy felt their agreement. Scholar Vaxas remarked, ¡°It will be amusing to see him overpowering the siege wyrms defenses with the raw power he¡¯s able to bring to bear.¡± No one felt the need to argue as they could all imagine how powerful a spell form Lord Walker should be able to manage using his weird technique. Theoretically, with enough time and available soul remnants, he should be able to bring down anything capable of existing in this type of environment. With how thin the essence was here, nothing should be able to stand against his overpowered spells. They continued to watch patiently, hidden from view, while occasionally debating Lord Walker¡¯s potential and talents. Each evaluator offered their thoughts and opinions on their young charge. Yet, one thing they all agreed on was that the young man had practically limitless potential and an inspiring drive to innovate and push boundaries. Each and every one of them was looking forward to seeing what he would become. It was reassuring to see their faith in the young man rewarded by seeing him in action. Already they¡¯d gained more experience in the last few days than they had in years. Almost in unison, they paused and looked over at the sight of the siege wyrm destroying one of the support pillars. Bodies and rubble fell like rain as screams of terror echoed throughout the chamber. Thousands died, kobald and human alike. And despite all they¡¯d seen in their many years of life, it was still an awe-inspiring sight. Almost in a whisper, Scholar Yarbarrow said, ¡°How is that possible? Ritual-built constructs of this magnitude shouldn¡¯t be that easy to take down.¡± Choosing to answer the rhetorical question, Academian Quincy replied, ¡°They are called siege wyrms for a reason. Their essence fields are disproportionately strong and therefore tend to ignore reinforcement enchantments. To a beast like that, the material world is what is being reinforced, not the ethereal. To it, the stone column is simply stone, nothing more.¡± Agreeing, Scholar Idrius added, ¡°How else do you expect the siege wyrms to take down Dorchester¡¯s walls? They are bred specifically for- ¡° Cutting herself off, her tone became panicked as she shouted, ¡°What is he doing?!?¡± The evaluators all watched as Lord Walker abandoned all reason and charged the kobald lines as if he¡¯d lost his mind. Academian Quincy could feel the unasked question on all their minds. After taking a good thirty seconds to think it over, he ordered, ¡°We¡¯ll stay close and recover his body if he falls. We can always bring him back and I want to see what his plan is.¡± Nervous agreements filled the connection while they all watched on in silence. ¡ª-- Rushing through the kobald defenses, Nero began to get a better sense of how the kobalds had set up their encampment. He saw plenty of buildings arrayed in circular patterns along with open areas filled with ritual casting positions for their shamans and casters. Everything was built crudely, but efficiently. Even their supplies and cooking fires were organized in recurring patterns. While he couldn¡¯t exactly ¡®see¡¯ everything, he began to get a feel for how the little buggers thought. Everything was repetition, a copy of a copy of a copy. And as a result, everything began to blend together as he felt like he was continually suffering from deja vu. Throughout the ether, he could feel the growing hatred and desire for his death growing all around him. And It was spreading further and faster the longer his chase went on. ¡®I¡¯m pulling one hell of an aggro train,¡¯ he giggled to himself. Although the concept of an ¡®aggro train¡¯ was a computer gaming term for when a player caught the attention of a massive amount of enemies, he found the idea oddly appropriate for what he was doing. With his continual spray of sticky flames and his occasional barrage of spell shells, he was leaving hilariously exaggerated levels of destruction in his wake. The only thing he regretted was how little of it he was actually able to witness. But, it couldn¡¯t be helped. If he stopped to appreciate the sights, he¡¯d end up getting swarmed. It wasn¡¯t all bad though. He had finally been able to get close enough to the other siege wyrm to fire off a few volleys of spell shells and grab its attention. So, he was still pretty happy with himself. The secondary siege wyrm had been decimating the human lines while they struggled to keep it away from the support columns holding up their side of the chamber. Even from the distance he was at, Nero could feel the fear and desperation clinging to the humans like a dense miasma. Muttering to himself, he said, ¡°Fear not brothers and sisters of the human faction. I, the great Lord Walker shall lead the beast away. Yea though I run away from the shadow of death, I shall fear no stupid lizards¡­¡± Part of Nero¡¯s consciousness knew he was beginning to lose it. He could feel the neurons in his brain reaching their limit. Considering the numerous spells and magical techniques he was maintaining, Nero was well aware that he couldn¡¯t keep this up forever. Not to mention all the running¡­ dear god in heaven¡­ so much running. With his perception field, he noticed another group of kobalds attempting to hide their ambush under another damned illusion. ¡®Nope!¡¯ he thought with a smile before turning on his heel and sprinting off between two mud huts. At the edge of his essence field, he could sense the two giant blobs he¡¯d come to associate with the siege wyrms stubbornly following him along. Although he had trouble seeing through their essence fields, he could tell that they were causing all kinds of havoc for the poor little kobalds under their feet. The ether was practically filled to the brim with soul stuff just begging for him to repurpose it into something useful. Deciding that it was time to figure out his endgame, Nero wracked his brain for what he could do to get himself out of the mess he was in. He had no problem ignoring the fact that this was all his fault, and instead focused on what options he had available to him. Suddenly, the edge of his essence field brushed against a significant disturbance. Interested, he altered his course, running past a confused group of grunts who apparently hadn¡¯t gotten the memo about his presence. Tossing them a lighthearted wave as he ran past before spraying them down with fire and death, he raced toward the disturbance as if he were being chased by¡­ well, exactly what he was being chased by. Fiddling with his field, he was able to pierce the kobald illusion and saw what looked like a five or six-story platform filled to the brim with kobalds. They were arranged in circles surrounding singular shamans. He recognized immediately what he was looking at. It was a ranged casting position for artillery spells, just on a much grander scale than anything he¡¯d seen before. Figuring he might as well take advantage of the opportunity, he charged forward fearlessly. At the base of the ramps, he could see a few of the larger kobalds ordering the little ones around, acting all high and mighty like the assholes they were. Emerging from the alleyway he was using, he pulled out his trusty shield and barreled past them like a battering ram. The screeches of surprise and anger he left in his wake contrasted beautifully with his mocking laughter. After spraying them down with some sticky flames, he paused his flamethrower and ducked under the ramp¡¯s awning to hopefully disappear into the chaos. The empty ramp was like one of the switchback ones he was used to seeing at professional stadiums. Both wide and empty, he had no problems running up it. ¡®Thank god the kobalds are so damn slow¡­ and stupid, can¡¯t forget stupid,¡¯ he thought to himself in amusement while picturing the kobalds with their little legs chasing after him. Reaching the top, he realized that his little detour had wasted more time than he¡¯d thought. His essence field gave him just enough warning to brace himself as the siege wyrms caught up with him. Since they didn¡¯t need to use the ramps, they were more than capable of propping themselves up on their back legs and attempting to climb up onto the massive platform. All around him, he could see the kobald casters panicking. Like idiots, he could see many of them already shooting the siege wyrms with whatever spells they had available. Like he¡¯d hoped, with all the chaos he was causing, he was practically ignored. Although, compared to a siege wyrm, he had to admit his presence wasn¡¯t all that attention-grabbing. Ducking behind a poorly built wagon that smelled disturbing like beef stew, Nero took a moment to catch his breath. Using his essence field to keep track of what was happening, he was delighted to see the siege wyrms freaking the hell out. They racked their massive claws across the platform, ripping apart kobalds by the dozens and cracking the edge of the platform. Well and truly in a rampage, they were completely uncaring about WHO they were killing. In response, more and more kobalds were attacking them in retaliation. Peaking over the wagon, he was surprised to see the siege wyrms covered in small kobalds. All over their backs and even on top of their heads, he could see little lizards stabbing and biting at whatever they could, each one looking bound and determined to bring down the great beast below them. Unfortunately, the siege wyrms didn¡¯t seem to mind the kobalds¡¯ attentions all that much, aside from looking rather annoyed at the audacity their little cousins were displaying. The original siege wyrm he¡¯d collected, the one who¡¯d brought down thousands of his fellow humans, wasn¡¯t looking too good. Now that he had the opportunity to actually LOOK at the damn thing, he could see how badly his spell shells had damaged it. One of its eyes was a complete ruin along with half of its face. Great chunks of its body had been blasted open and he could see broken scales falling off the exposed muscles. The fact that it was still standing was a testament to its endurance and frankly ridiculous levels of might. Unauthorized use: this story is on Amazon without permission from the author. Report any sightings. On the other hand, the other wyrm looked practically fresh as a daisy. Whatever few spell shells he¡¯d been able to lob at it didn¡¯t look to have done all that much damage. ¡®Well, that¡¯s disappointing,¡¯ he thought to himself. Glancing around, he saw that none of the kobalds were paying attention to him. In fact, considering how hidden he was, along with the kobalds'' apparent fixation on the siege wyrms, the little bastards seemed to have forgotten all about him for the moment. The edges of the platform were already being broken down under the siege wyrm¡¯s assault, and the kobald shamans were frantically attempting to coordinate their little spell circles into an organized counterattack. Nero realized this would be an ideal time for him to run away. The siege wyrms were occupied with casters that could actually hurt them, and the kobald horde was busy supporting them. But, what then? What if the kobalds managed to bring them down? Or, worse yet, bring them back under their control? ¡°Fuck it,¡± he mumbled before adding in an amused grumble, ¡°I needed a distraction anyway.¡± Dismissing the ¡®sticky flamethrower¡¯ spell form which he had paused at the bottom of the ramp, he took a moment to refresh his collected essence. Checking on his mage armor, he was happy to see it still pulling in essence by the boatload and reinforcing itself. The amount of soul stuff he¡¯d shoved into it was making the entire film practically ¡®hum¡¯ against his skin. In the small section of his mind dedicated to maintaining it, he could sense the technique¡¯s purpose burning itself constantly into the material world. He probably took longer than he should have to appreciate the sight of the mage armor overpowering reality, but he couldn¡¯t tear his senses away from it. Shaking his head to dismiss the errant distraction, he firmed his will and focused on what he intended to do. He could feel his center burning with potential. His very flesh and bones were chock-full of essence just begging to be let loose. Closing his eyes, he took a few deep breaths and carefully carved the spell form for an updated turret into the ether. Unlike the turret spell forms he¡¯d done before, this one needed to be larger, more dangerous. Like a mad scientist, uncaring about his safety, he added whatever damaging essence constructs he could to the part of the spell form responsible for the shell¡¯s creation. Acid, fire, cold, sticky, compression, ball, explode¡­ everything he could think of he attached. By the time he was done, the damn thing looked even more like a patchwork puzzle that he had forced together. All the while, he was continually forcing more and more soul stuff into the pattern, certain that if he didn¡¯t, it would have exploded in his face. The soul stuff was potential waiting to be used, so he figured that with enough potential, anything was possible¡­ even stabilizing his disturbingly unbalanced spell form. With his senses, he watched as the hovering spell form struggled to maintain itself before finally convincing reality that it wasn¡¯t worth rejecting. Letting out a sigh of relief, Nero muttered, ¡°OK. Step one¡­ make the damn thing. Step two¡­ fire the damn thing.¡± Carefully adjusting the spell form, he manually slid it through the ether before confirming its placement. Peaking over the cart, he made the mistake of looking down and seeing what was in it. Nearly gagging, he turned away from the ¡®tubs¡¯ of chunky slop. Luckily, his concentration on the spell form hadn¡¯t wavered enough to cause a miscast. Ignoring the sad excuse for what passed for kobald cuisine, Nero narrowed his eyes and aimed his spell. The kobald casters were currently pelting the siege wyrms with their artillery spells cast from their spell circles. Melee kobalds big and small were harassing the siege wyrms with their spears and blades. In response, the siege wyrms were clinging stubbornly to the platform and killing whatever kobald caught their eye. Nero took a deep breath and readied himself. He honestly wasn¡¯t sure what was going to happen. Glancing up at the spell form he¡¯d created, he could see it glowing in the ether like a miniature sun. The damn thing hadn¡¯t even started gathering essence, and it already was powerful enough to disrupt the local essence flows. ¡®Maybe I used too much soul stuff?¡¯ he wondered for a moment before shrugging off his concerns. Firming his resolve, he muttered, ¡°There is no kill like overkill. Kill them all and let god sort them out. Also, other cliche sayings that I ought to say before doing something dangerous and arguably unnecessary.¡± One more deep breath while he pulled out his shield to add another layer between him and what was coming. A final glance at his doomsday spell form. In a whisper, he declared, ¡°Chick, Chick¡­¡± while activating the spell form. The ether around him swelled. The amount of potential he¡¯d injected into the spell form immediately overrode the essence control of the kobalds on the platform. Like a growing storm, the essence flows began to swirl strongly enough to affect the air around him. Every single kobald and siege wyrm paused what they were doing, unsure of what exactly was happening. With his essence field, Nero could see the spell form swelling while struggling to channel all the essence his alterations demanded. In the center of the turret mechanism, he watched as a shell of unparalleled destruction injected itself into the material plane. It wasn¡¯t just a construct. It was too solid, too real to be called a construct. It burned so bright that he couldn¡¯t look directly at it. He couldn¡¯t be sure, but he felt like reality itself was buckling under the pressure the thing was giving off. The moment the shell finished its formation, Nero felt it. Reality snapped back into focus, and he could see it hovering in the air like a kaleidoscopic monstrosity. His wide, awestruck eyes beheld his masterpiece with pride. The grin stretched across his face as he declared, ¡°Boom¡­¡± Like a bolt of multicolored lightning, the shell shot out of his turret toward its target. He¡¯d chosen to aim it at the healthiest siege wyrm¡¯s chest, figuring that he might as well do a little damage to the one he hadn¡¯t given enough attention to just yet. Then, his world exploded. He honestly had no idea what was happening anymore. Gravity disappeared as he felt his feet leave the ground. Bright white light and shadow swirled around him along with every other color in the spectrum. There was heat and cold and conflicting feelings of distance and pressure. His essence field was a solid block of confusion, and his senses told him nothing more than his eyes did. Perhaps he blacked out, or maybe reality decided to push the reset button. Either way, the sudden reappearance of his senses nearly blue-screened his brain box. Stumbling to his feet, Nero looked around in confusion. All around him were ethereal clouds of dust dissipating into the air like the monsters he¡¯d watched come apart. Looking down, he saw that ¡°The Wall 2.0¡± was nothing more than a foot-square hunk of twisted metal strapped to his arm¡­ and it was still smoking. After a second or two of feeling regret, he sent it back into his personal space so that he could bury it later. Raising his head, he looked around in awe at what he¡¯d accomplished. He couldn¡¯t see all that far with all the smoke, but from what he could see, the destruction was absolute. There were no kobald bodies or even any ruins from their defenses. It was all just ash and dirt. The smoke was heavy enough to blot out the light, and he wondered for a moment if he¡¯d been transported into the barren desert of some afterlife. His mind struggled to understand what his senses were telling him. There was nothing in his essence field that hinted at anything living. Even the essence flows looked subdued and lethargic. Delicately reaching out, he carefully attempted to refresh his essence collection. The ether around him shook, and he backed off. Then, he realized that the essence he¡¯d already collected was gone as well¡­ and so was his super-awesome soul-charged absolute-defense mage-armor of awesomeness. He was utterly and completely naked¡­ in the ethereal sense, that is. Patting down his clothes, he didn¡¯t see any problems. Aside from the blood-covered armor he was wearing, the massive headache he was suffering, along with the feeling of strain that affected every inch of his body¡­ he felt perfectly fine. ¡®Huh¡­ so that worked. I think I¡¯m on step three now. That¡¯s profit, right?¡¯ he congratulated himself. All in all, things seemed to have worked out alright for him. Just as that thought occurred to him, he felt his essence field alert him of an approaching group of humans. Turning his head, he watched as they cautiously emerged from the dissipating dust, their weapons ready. He could feel their fear and reluctance. With how clear, calm, and empty his thoughts were, he couldn¡¯t understand what their problem was. Yelling loudly enough to cover the distance, he shouted, ¡°Hey, you all can calm down now. The kobalds around here are all dead.¡± Before looking around and muttering, ¡°Or at least I think they are¡­ probably.¡± Emerging from the smoke, Nero¡¯s eyes locked on to the group of awestruck humans. At first glance, they looked like they were unwilling to subject him to their presence. They all looked like they¡¯d been through hell. Ripped and torn bits of armor hung off them in strips, while scrapes and dried bits of blood covered their faces and exposed skin. The lady in the front stepped forward awkwardly and said, ¡°My lord, the um¡­ Commander Dahl I mean.. He¡­ well¡­ he would like to see you¡­ if you don¡¯t mind that is.¡± Nero tilted his head and looked at her in confusion. Scratching his head, he replied, ¡°Yeah, OK. Just let me find my wackos first. After the battle is over, I¡¯ll find Commander Daryll and see what he wants. You wouldn¡¯t happen to know which way Cathleen Averett or Captain Angleton is, would you?¡± The woman exchanged confused and nervous glances with the rest of her part before replying, ¡°Um¡­ My lord, the battle is over. What few kobalds were left after¡­ well¡­ they retreated back under the mountain. They sealed the tunnel behind them, sacrificing themselves by the hundreds to ensure we couldn¡¯t go after them. As for Ms. Averett and Captain Angleton, I¡¯d have to check with my superior. I¡¯m sorry¡­ but I don¡¯t have a connection to the command web.¡± Snapping his fingers, Nero exclaimed, ¡°Right! The command web!¡± Reaching out, Nero tried to locate the group-like connection covering the chamber. Finding it quickly, he sent out a broad request for a connection. The resulting reply felt like a thousand heads turning toward him all at once, every one of them paying close attention to him. He felt the connection slide into place so strongly that his head snapped back in pain. On instinct, he pushed the connection to the mental equivalent of an arm''s distance. ¡°Back the fuck up a second. God damn people, intrusive much?!? Anyway, I didn¡¯t want to bother you all while you''re busy commanding or whatever, but can anyone give me directions to my unit? I was serving under¡­ I mean WITH Captain Angleton and Cathleen Averett.¡± The connection felt incredibly odd, as it was like a thousand people all standing right next to him¡­ paying close attention while not saying anything. He then felt one presence ¡®step¡¯ forward. ¡°This is Commander Dahl. Lord Walker, your adherents and followers are to your northeast. However, if you don¡¯t mind, I¡¯d respectfully like to ask you what it was you did to end the battle so decisively. None of my mages or advisors have ever heard of anything like it. Are you alright, or do you need any medical aid?¡± Nero, his brain still feeling a little muddled, had stopped listening to everything after ¡®northeast¡¯. Somehow knowing exactly where the man was indicating, turned his head in that direction and tried to sense what he could. Unsurprisingly, there was nothing. A familiar presence at the edges of the connection grew stronger while the commander was speaking. ¡°Apologies for the interruption, Commander. But, we¡¯re over here, my lord. Lord Verena has requested to speak to you as well.¡± Recognizing Cathleen¡¯s presence, he wondered why she seemed so emotionally far away. It felt like she was¡­ scared of him? No, not scared¡­ wary maybe? His brain tried over and over again to find the right word to describe what her presence was telling him. Commander Dahl¡¯s voice interrupted his thoughts, ¡°Lord Walker? Are you unwell? Do you require aid?¡± Returning his attention to the conversation, Nero replied, ¡°Huh? No, I¡¯m good. Thanks. I¡¯ll go check in with my team and get back to you. Don¡¯t mind me.¡± Cutting off the connection so the thousand-plus presences would stop staring at him through the ether, Nero started walking toward his wackos. Glancing over his shoulder, he said to the weirdly acting team that had found him, ¡°Thanks for the help. You guys can return to whatever it was you were doing. But, just so you know, I don¡¯t think you¡¯ll find whatever it is you¡¯re looking for here. This cloud of dust and crap is about all there is around here as far as I can tell. But, I could be wrong¡­ so, whatever. You do you¡­ Good luck!¡± Without another look, he walked off into the dust cloud, muttering, ¡°I should call that a chaos bomb¡­ or maybe the obliteration shell? Boom baby? No! The Final Solution! No¡­ too edgy. I¡¯ll have to workshop it. Either way¡­ that was freaking awesome. God I could use a shower and some coffee. I wonder if they have any donuts¡­ or maybe the fantasy equivalent of a mocha espresso.¡± Rubbing his temples, he thought to himself, ¡®I feel like I¡¯m suffering from one of those rare hangovers where you can¡¯t seem to think straight, but you can¡¯t bring yourself to care enough to worry about it. After I find Cathleen, I¡¯m definitely taking a nap before Nick can explain to me what I did¡­ I¡¯m not even remotely up for a lecture right now, that¡¯s for sure.¡¯ Chapter 210 - Have I got something on my face? After watching Lord Walker charge the kobald lines and subsequently run right past them, Academian Quincy found himself thoroughly confused. Judging by the waves of disbelief echoing across the connection he shared with the other evaluators, he wasn¡¯t the only one who was having trouble understanding what he was seeing. Without any conceivable grander purpose, Lord Walker continued deeper into the enemy force, seemingly immune to any and all damage he was recieving. If he didn¡¯t know better, Academian Quincy would have thought Lord Walker was a level 80 melee combat specialist with centuries of experience on the battlefield. ¡°I don¡¯t understand¡­ if he¡¯s capable of creating an essence shield strong enough to counter their blades, then why is he bothering to try and dodge them?¡± asked Scholar Idrius. The question hung in the air, unanswerable and perplexing. Hovering above the battlefield, they watched Lord Walker move through the kobald defenses like a thief escaping justice. He ducked and dodged blades by the dozens, lashing out left and right with his sword, leaving bleeding and screaming kobalds in his wake. Yet, they also saw kobald swords bouncing off his essence shield, spearheads deflecting off his limbs, and on more than a dozen occasions¡­ arrows harmlessly hammering into his back. ¡°Is he¡­ I don¡¯t know¡­ trying to trick them or something?¡± Scholar Vaxas asked, his normally silent personality overcome by his confusion. Even from where they were above the battlefield, they could hear Lord Walker¡¯s laugh echoing across the encampment, enraging the nearby kobalds into a frenzy. Academian Quincy had no idea what the enigmatic young lord was doing. While it was true that he was causing some damage to the kobald forces, his tactics were inefficient to the point of insanity. On one hand, if Lord Walker knew that his essence shield was that powerful, then he could have just stood in place and cut them down by the hundreds. But, if he didn¡¯t, and he was actually charging into their lines expecting to survive with his evasion techniques¡­ then he honestly didn¡¯t know what to think. Perhaps Scholar Vaxas was right, maybe it was all some elaborate ploy to keep the kobalds off balance. It was after all rather obvious what effect Lord Walker¡¯s antics were having on the kobalds. They were abandoning their positions and chasing after him in droves. ¡®Maybe that is his goal?¡¯ Academian Quincy wondered. Inexplicably, the young lord abruptly changed tactics. Out of nowhere, he jumped up onto one of the kobald buildings and ducked under a giant tower shield. Academian Quincy and the other evaluators couldn¡¯t help but hold their breaths in shock at the sheer audacity Lord Walker was displaying. As expected, now that he was out in the open and static, several artillery positions opened fire on him. Whoever was controlling the kobald forces had predictably been monitoring the situation and had now decided to take action. ¡°He¡¯s casting something¡­¡± noted Scholar Yarbarrow. ¡°I don¡¯t recognize the spell,¡± replied Scholar Mortem. ¡°It might be that personal artillery spell he used before, the same one that he used during the portal incident. He used it earlier in this battle too I think. I wasn¡¯t ready at the time, but this time I was able to catch it. I can confirm that he¡¯s pulling in soul remnants to power it. The local resonance levels are falling¡­ or at least I think they are,¡± observed Scholar Vaxas added hesitantly. Glancing over at Scholar Vaxas, Academian Quincy frowned at the man with distaste. Unsurprisingly, Scholar Vaxas was playing with the obscure spell he¡¯d found in one of the Royal Academy¡¯s databases. According to him, the spell was intended to monitor soul remanent levels in the ether before the application of some very illegal necromatic rituals. While not technically against the law, Academian Quincy was not happy to see the overly curious man messing with something so controversial. Academian Quincy¡¯s attention was pulled back to the battle below him by the sound of Lord Walker¡¯s spell going off. Turning his attention to where it was headed, he raised one eyebrow in surprise when he saw the spell impact against the siege wyrm. ¡®Well, THAT¡¯S not going to do anything,¡¯ he thought to himself in shock. But, he was then immediately proven wrong when the siege wyrm let out a bowel-shaking roar before charging toward Lord Walker in a rage. Staring in confusion at the sight of the siege wyrm¡¯s disproportionate reaction, Academian Quincy missed the moment when the kobald¡¯s spells landed on Lord Walker¡¯s position. Whipping his head back toward the explosion, he was surprised to see the level of destruction the kobalds had committed against their own forces. Dead kobalds littered the ground while the building itself had fallen into ruins. ¡°Well, let¡¯s go collect his body and then get him resuscitated. I¡¯m looking forward to hearing what he -¡± Academian Quincy started to say before trailing off. From the rubble, Lord Walker emerged with a grin and began cutting down any kobald lucky enough to still be alive. He was able to see the exact moment Lord Walker realized the siege wyrm was bearing down on his position. The grin on Lord Walker¡¯s face transformed into a wide smile, his white teeth contrasting harshly with the soot and dust covering his face. Feeling an uncomfortable chill down his spine, Academian Quincy couldn¡¯t stop himself from shivering at the wicked laugh erupting from the little lord down below. Like an arrow being loosed from a bow, Lord Walker shot off into the encampment in the exact opposite direction from the siege wyrm¡¯s approach. ¡°I got it! That¡¯s what he was doing with the soul remnants! He was overpowering the spell form to pull in enough essence so that it would overcome the siege wyrm¡¯s localized essence field. Unfortunately, he just doesn¡¯t know enough about essence fields yet. His plan would have worked if he had time to infuse more power into the spell,¡± Scholar Vaxas said confidently. Frowning again at his boundary-pushing colleague, Academian Quincy hissed, ¡°Does it LOOK like Lord Walker was unhappy with the result? Whatever his plan is, I doubt that was the extent of it.¡± ¡°Dear gods in all the heavens above¡­ Would you look at that,¡± whispered Scholar Mortem. Turning to look at what Scholar Mortem was pointing at, Academian Quincy felt his jaw drop at the sight of the siege wyrm absolutely wrecking the pursuit force of kobalds chasing after the young lord. ¡°Do you think he planned that?¡± asked Scholar Yarbarrow in awe. ¡ª-- It took longer than Nero thought it would to make his way through the weird foglike dust cloud. But, eventually, he started seeing some partially complete ruins and moderately intact corpses. Even with his mind still in a bit of a daze, he couldn¡¯t stop himself from smiling at the sight of so many dead enemies. ¡°I should look into contacting a GM to see if I can start getting experience off my kill count,¡± he muttered to himself sarcastically. As he got further away from the detonation site, he felt his essence field begin working again. Although not able to see them, he could sense humans moving around, collecting corpses and loot. Emerging from the dust-like cloud, he walked over to the first group he saw and said, ¡°Hey there. Do any of you know where Cathleen Averett is?¡± As one, the group looked up from what they were doing. Surprised, two of the battle-weary soldiers dropped the kobald corpse they were holding. The remaining troops all stood up straight and snapped to attention, staring at Nero in shock. Before he could tell them to chill out, one of the troops stepped forward to greet him. Nero wasn¡¯t sure, but he thought he recognized the man from the brief interviews he¡¯d had with his wackos. ¡°My lord, are you injured? Do you need healing?¡± the possible wacko asked quickly, his concern overly evident in his expression. Frowning up at the man, Nero replied, ¡°Um¡­ Yeah, I¡¯m good. You can go back to looting and whatnot. But, can you point me in the direction of Cathleen? I¡¯m sure she¡¯s just itching to tear me a new one for running off.¡± The man didn¡¯t respond immediately, his concern for his lord¡¯s safety struggling against his desire to answer the question. Pointing off in the distance, he said, ¡°She and the command staff are over that way, my lord. But, are you sure you don¡¯t want me to help you over to the healers?¡± Nero looked down at his grubby and ruined armor and replied, ¡°Nah, I¡¯m fine. This is mostly kobald blood. I¡¯ll get some water and clean up in a bit.¡± Considering how ¡®off¡¯ the ether felt, Nero didn¡¯t want to chance a spell before talking to Nick. For all he knew, there was some magical rule that he¡¯d be violating if he did. With his luck, he¡¯d probably end up accidentally creating a portal or one of those essence nodes. The last thing he needed right now was another enemy to fight. While fun and exciting, he was currently more interested in a shower and a nap. Rather than prolonging the awkward conversation, Nero turned on his heel and began walking away. Over his shoulder, he shouted, ¡°Thanks for the directions. Keep up the good work! Soldiers like you are a credit to the unifo-... I mean¡­ a credit to Dorchester! Yup¡­ you guys are the real heroes!¡± Nero cringed at his poor attempt at politicking. ¡®I¡¯m really gonna have to update my bullshit,¡¯ he reminded himself. Luckily he was distracted by more and more human troops appearing as he made his way out of the dust cloud. Every time someone noticed him, they dropped what they were doing and saluted him. Many of them he could tell weren¡¯t soldiers, as their attempts looked both awkward and kinda stupid. But, he still responded with a fist to his chest and a smile, as there was no point in being a dick about it. What did confuse him a little was how his presence seemed to suck the happiness out of them. One second they were smiling and congratulating each other on their victory, and the next they were looking at him like they were at a funeral. The narrative has been taken without authorization; if you see it on Amazon, report the incident. Was Cathleen or someone else injured? Or dead? Upping his pace, he quickly moved through the crowd, his heart beginning to race with worry. Moving past a wagon filled with kobald corpses, he saw a large group of people circled around something. Figuring that they all looked like important assholes doing nothing while everyone else worked for a living, he assumed they were the ¡®command staff¡¯ that the possible wacko had told him to look out for. Walking up, he was about to reach out and tap one of them on the arm to ask about Cathleen. Before he could though, the entire group turned around to look at him. Only a few paces away, Nero froze in place, uncomfortable with so many people staring at him. Right when he was about to say something, the crowd was shoved aside by a stern-looking Cathleen followed by the contrastingly large Captain Angleton. While Cathleen looked like she always did¡­ mildly annoyed and somewhat disapproving, the captain was wearing what looked like a smile¡­ but that couldn¡¯t be right. Captain Angleton didn¡¯t smile. Before Nero could think too much about that, he noticed that right alongside them was the former assassin guy Mark with a weird smile on his face¡­ or maybe his name was Mike, Marty, or Mickey¡­ Nero couldn¡¯t remember. Either way, the approaching group was rounded out with an overly excited Nick. The range of emotions on everyone¡¯s faces was enough to exacerbate Nero¡¯s migraine. Awkwardly raising his hand in greeting, he politely gave them a half-wave and said hurriedly, ¡°Hello there. Good fight, huh? Crazy about those siege wyrms. But, hey, it all worked out¡­ right? Well¡­ not for everyone under the upper floors that fell down on them, but everyone else seems OK. So, that¡¯s one in the win column. Were the healers able to save any of those poor bastards? I know that -¡± The group stood around Nero in a half circle, each of them glaring at him in their own way. The former assassin and the captain looked at him with wide smiles and a hint of an emotion Nero couldn¡¯t begin to identify. Nick looked like he was ready to jump out of his shoes and begin questioning him. But Cathleen¡­ sweet Cathleen¡­ the look on her face was enough for Nero to keep talking, hoping to stumble across the correct words that could diffuse her, thereby preventing her from exploding all over him. ¡°Enough! Before anything else, why haven¡¯t you healed yourself?¡± Cathleen demanded. Nero gulped a little¡­ his mouth dry from talking so quickly. ¡°Um¡­ because I¡¯m not injured?¡± he replied hesitantly. The smiles on the former assassin whose name he couldn¡¯t remember and Captain Angleton faded away. Cathleen¡¯s penetrating eyes seemed to stare into his soul, while Nick stifled a laugh. Nero looked over at his friend and offered him a shrug before urging him with his eyes to explain what the hell was going on. Nick¡¯s smile was closer to a smirk when he stepped forward and said, ¡°It¡¯s good to see you¡¯re alright Nero. But, you might want to take a look at yourself in a mirror.¡± Nero didn¡¯t have a chance to respond before Nick stamped some spell into the ether and created a shimmering 6 ft tall mirror. Reflexively looking over at himself, Nero watched as his reflection¡¯s jaw dropped in surprise at what it was seeing. His normally lush silver hair now looked wan and dull. The dust, ash, and blood aside, he could tell that his hair had lost a great deal of its shine. His cheeks were now sunken and corpse-like. Heavy bags hung under his eyes while his abnormally pale skin showed blue web-like veins around his ocular socket. Nor longer red and healthy, his lips were now almost violet. And finally, his entire face was covered in streaks of dried blood. His shoulders and chest looked like his brain had leaked out of his ears while his chin and mouth were covered in what must have come out of his nose. Even the outer and inner edges of his eyes had streaks of dried blood running down his face. Unconsciously stepping forward, Nero raised his hands to his face and delicately probed his features. ¡°What the fuck,¡± he mumbled over and over again incoherently. While Nick was still smiling, his voice sounded quite gentle as he asked, ¡°How do you feel, Nero?¡± Looking at Nick through the reflection, Nero replied, ¡°I had no idea I looked like this. I feel fine¡­ or at least I thought I did. Now though, my stomach is all in a knot and the headache I¡¯ve been ignoring is starting to hurt again.¡± While everyone kept a respectful distance, Nick walked slowly up to Nero and put his hand on his shoulder. Nero watched as the man cast some medical-type spell that he kinda sorta recognized by the familiarity it shared with some of the spells he knew. ¡°Just as I thought,¡± he said decisively, before removing his hand and stepping away. ¡°You¡¯ve overtaxed your body to an absurd degree.¡± Nero turned back to the mirror to take another look at himself before looking at Nick¡¯s reflection and glaring. The unmasked demand for a better explanation was made very clear with his expression. Nick chuckled and added in a low voice, ¡°Based on your ¡®unique¡¯ background, I have a few guesses as to how this happened, but I think we might want to discuss it under some privacy spells. That is unless you want half of Dorchester hearing about it.¡± Grimacing, Nero kept his mouth shut. Unfortunately, that brief explanation wasn¡¯t enough for Captain Angleton, whoever the former assassin was, and Cathleen. ¡°Will Lord Walker be able to recover?¡± asked the captain quickly, the poorly hidden panic in his voice causing his voice to slightly shake. ¡°If you need to make a pilgrimage to one of the stronger cities, we¡¯re with you, my lord! You just say the word!¡± declared the guy who is most likely named Marty. Nero looked over at the two in confusion while Cathleen stepped forward and nearly hissed, ¡°Now isn¡¯t the time for this!¡± Turning to Nick, she demanded, ¡°Is he in any immediate danger? Can he be debriefed?¡± Nick¡¯s grin didn¡¯t falter a bit under their combined gaze. ¡°Oh, he¡¯s fine. Or at least I think he is. You can¡¯t expect him to do what he did without consequences, but I don¡¯t think it will be anything permanent. Nero is¡­ a unique case¡­ yes, that¡¯s a good way to look at it. He¡¯s a unique, and this is just an expression of that. He¡¯ll need some rest and some food, but he should be good for a few more hours before he needs to lie down.¡± Suddenly comprehending what ¡®debriefing¡¯ might entail, Nero looked over at Nick like the man had just broken his favorite coffee mug. ¡®Why Nick? What did I ever do to you?¡¯ he wondered impotently. Cathleen nodded once quickly, accepting what Nick said at face value. Turning around she barked, ¡°You! Get some food and water together and meet us at the central command tent.¡± Spinning back to Nero, she said, ¡°Our presence has been ¡®requested¡¯ by command at our earliest convenience. We can stall, but I don¡¯t see the point. You¡¯ve already stolen half their penal forces and the good captain here has practically defected. Unique or not, after the display you just put on, I¡¯d rather not push Dorchester''s command any further than they already have been.¡± Nero looked both confused and a little insulted at her outrageous insinuations. Meanwhile, Captain Angleton looked offended and the former assassin dude looked, for lack of a better word, ¡®proud¡¯ for some reason. After dismissing his mirror spell, Nick put his arm around Nero and led him off after Cathleen. Nero didn¡¯t object, as he honestly didn¡¯t have enough brain power available to object. There was just too much confusing information needing to be digested floating around up there. Between his pounding headache, his currently hazy attention span, and his concern for whatever the hell happened to him physically, Nero felt like he was in a daze. Out of nowhere, Nero felt a connection attempt poking at his mind coming from Nick. Looking over at the man, Nero accepted the connection and stifled a wince at the mental pain it caused. ¡°What is it?¡± he asked with a grimace. Frowning down at him in concern, Nick asked, ¡°Are you capable of maintaining a connection right now? How bad is it?¡± Nero rolled his eyes and replied, ¡°I¡¯m fine enough. Seriously. What¡¯s up?¡± Nick kindly took Nero at his word and replied, ¡°I wanted to give you a little heads up about what you¡¯re going through. Also a few words of warning about what you might find when you enter the command tent.¡± Feeling a pit in his stomach, Nero asked, ¡°How bad is it really? I didn¡¯t actually fuck up and turn myself into an undead or something did I? I swear I didn¡¯t do anything with the soul stuff, and there really wasn¡¯t any personality or even any actual souls involved in the type of casting I did.¡± Nick quickly replied, ¡°No, you¡¯re not undead or anything like that. Well, not really. I suppose in a way you COULD be considered an undead. But that¡¯s only when you consi-¡± Interrupting him before he could go off on a tangent, Nero pleaded, ¡°Nick¡­ I¡¯m begging you, please just tell me what¡¯s going on,¡± Nick paused for a second to gather his thoughts before saying, ¡°Alright. It¡¯s like this. You know how you ¡®appropriated¡¯ the body you are currently using?¡± Nero nodded, a little concerned over where Nick might be going with this. ¡°Well, when your soul took over, it began changing the body to better fit your identity. Remember, we talked about this?¡± asked Nick, knowing that Nero rarely paid attention to what he didn¡¯t want to. Nero once again nodded before replying, ¡°Yeah, and?¡± Finally getting to the point, Nick replied, ¡°By overtaxing the amount of essence your body can channel, you essentially were burning out and killing the host body you are currently using. Your existence is very much like a possession, but much more stable. In order to stabilize your condition, you¡¯re going to need to infuse some stars into your body stats to compensate for your abnormal casting ability. Remember, it¡¯s all connected, body mind, and soul. While most people tend to skew toward a particular direction, you¡¯re always going to be a little different. What your levels show and what you are actually capable of are never going to be the same thing. In the short term, this means that you¡¯ll need to hold off on any larger spells and should focus on getting some food and rest in order to give your physical body time to recover.¡± As Nero pondered over what Nick had just said, he felt his friend cast a cleaning spell that washed over him like a wave. Looking down, Nero saw the grime, dirt, and blood flake off him as if he were one of those fancy rugs being beaten with a bat. ¡°You may not look your best right now, but your combat capabilities aren¡¯t all that affected. Just be careful not to melt the brain you are currently using. If my conjecture is correct, you may not find a suitable replacement body anytime soon,¡± Nick advised wryly. While intellectually Nero understood what Nick was saying, that didn¡¯t mean the reminder that this wasn¡¯t actually his body was enough to give him the mouth sweats. ¡®Ironic really. I¡¯m suffering physical effects in my body from the realization that this isn¡¯t my body. Freaky,¡¯ Nero thought to himself. Mentally retreating from the conversation for a moment, Nero looked around to see where he was being led. All around him, he could see uniformed soldiers wearing Dorchester tabards going about their business. He didn¡¯t know how far away it was they were going, but he figured he might as well take advantage of the opportunity to grill Nick on what was coming. ¡°Alright, so I¡¯m a body-jumping freak who needs to let his body recover. I can ironically live with that. Now, what¡¯s this about a warning you wanted to give me concerning the meeting I¡¯m about to have?¡± he asked. Nick replied quickly, probably expecting the subject to change. ¡°The amount of damage you did as a singular caster is unprecedented in an area like Dorchester. You probably felt the effect you had on the ether after what you did. If you recall, a similar occurrence during the Dorchen Rebellion was caused by Populators overtaxing the available ether and disrupting the local essence flows. While not at the same level, what you did probably reminded them of that. While I doubt anyone still living in Dorchester was around to see it, the event hasn¡¯t been forgotten. You need to emphasize that you are not nearly powerful enough to affect the local essence flows and that what you did was merely a clever use of applied spell form manipulation based on your limited magical studies. You don¡¯t have to report your spell if you don¡¯t want to, but I¡¯m guessing that if you do you¡¯ll probably end up with another royal award.¡± Nero felt like he was pummeled with the amount of information Nick was doling out like candy. So many thoughts were racing through his brain that he felt like it might literally melt out of his ears. Rubbing his temples, Nero replied, ¡°OK. Nick, I¡¯m cutting the connection now. I¡¯m gonna need a minute to process all this.¡± Nick didn¡¯t use the connection to reply, instead, he patted Nero¡¯s shoulder and said out loud, ¡°Understandable. Take your time.¡± before cutting the connection. Nero gratefully nodded to his friend with a wan smile before staring down at the ground and letting his mind wander. Absently watching his feet as he continued to walk, Nero thought to himself, ¡®Next time¡­ I need to remember not to use spells that are big enough to warrant meetings. Instead, I¡¯ll draw out the fights as long as possible and hope whoever is in charge ends up dying before being able to bitch me out.¡¯ Satisfied with his updated action plan, Nero let his mind chew on the fact that he was currently walking around in what could be charitably referred to as a pre or almost-dead body. ¡®Eh, I¡¯m sure it will work out fine,¡¯ he reassured himself. Chapter 211 - The things you miss. Commander Dahl¡¯s frown was so pronounced that it looked like he was squinting. As a result, everyone in the command tent was on edge. Aides, captains, and support mages were moving around the room in a hurry, each one doing their best to get a handle on the situation. Their limited experience with war on this scale was made clear by how poorly they were dealing with the unexpected. Unable to turn away from the blurry and confusing holographic display, Commander Dahl rapidly cycled through the feeds he was receiving from the Tower of Magic¡¯s scrying teams. Their connection was spotty, and he¡¯d lost contact with central command. Worse yet, what little he was seeing simply didn¡¯t make any sense. Tearing his eyes away from the incomprehensible images, he shouted, ¡°Does anybody have any intelligence on what just happened?¡± The entire room paused what they were doing, everyone turning to look at the commander with fear and panic in their eyes. Almost growling, he asked, ¡°No one? Not one of your teams has reported anything to explain what I¡¯m seeing?!?¡± From the corner of the room, one of the subcommanders in charge of handling the penal units and volunteers spoke up hesitantly, ¡°Sir! I think I might have something¡­ possibly.¡± Everyone in the room turned toward the young captain with interest, pinning the man in place with their stares. Glaring at the subcommander, Commander Dahl''s voice cut through the room like a knife. ¡°Well? Report!¡± Firming his shoulders to stand at attention, the subcommander replied, ¡°Right before the event, I was tracking requests from the penal divisions that voluntarily joined Lord Walker¡¯s forces. They were demanding support for Lord Walker. It didn¡¯t make any sense though. They reported that he personally went behind enemy lines to either cut down their ranged artillery support or take out their siege wyrms. According to what they were saying, Lord Verena was tracking him through a scry, but was having trouble maintaining the connection. The last report I heard may have placed Lord Walker at the event''s epicenter.¡± Another woman in the room stepped forward. ¡°That may explain some of the confusing reports I was receiving from section M11. They reported that kobald defenses were fracturing due to some fires spreading through the kobald encampment. No one knew what was causing it, but they were requesting permission to take advantage of the situation.¡± While the command tent seemed quiet, everyone was still receiving and dealing with communiques from their assigned forces. There wasn¡¯t a soldier in the room who wasn¡¯t able to handle the complicated multitasking required to hold multiple conversations. So, reports were still coming in by the dozen, and each one had to be dealt with. Just because the kobalds retreated, didn¡¯t mean their jobs were over. Commander Dahl frowned in thought, before asking hesitantly, ¡°So, you¡¯re thinking Lord Walker perished in the event? Possibly as a result of some ritual casting mistake he caused? With the amount of power involved, who knows what the kobalds were up to.¡± Almost as if the world were mocking him, one of the commanders stepped forward and reported excitedly, ¡°Commander Dahl! I just received a report of Lord Walker emerging from the essence disturbance. We can¡¯t confirm it through scrying, but one of the search teams reported seeing him walk out of the aftermath.¡± Raising his eyebrows in surprise, Commander Dahl ordered, ¡°Have him report here immediately! I want to know what he saw, and more importantly how he survived whatever it was that the kobalds just did. Whatever that kobald ritual was supposed to do, he must have interfered with it. I want to know exactly what happened. We need to know what we¡¯re dealing with.¡± The entire room nodded in agreement, terrified at the thought of what the kobald''s strange ritual magic might be capable of. ¡ª-- Nero walked along as if he were in a fugue, his brain refusing to work right. While he wasn¡¯t feeling giddy anymore, or having trouble thinking, he was having trouble feeling ¡®present¡¯. It was like everything happening to him was slightly muted. In a way, it was almost refreshing. He had no trouble keeping pace with the group as they made their way through the Dorchester forces on their way to the command tent. His odd mental perspective allowed him to analyze everything he saw on the way with a clear and objective perspective. When he saw some people using telekinesis to load wagons with kobald corpses, he easily interpreted it in a way he¡¯d never thought of before. Instead of seeing the soldiers as being lazy, he realized that they were the ones using the situation to train their minds. While he had learned from experience that it was easier to use physical labor to do things than it was to use mental techniques or abilities, he hadn¡¯t really internalized that knowledge. It wasn¡¯t surprising as it contradicted everything he¡¯d learned from fantasy novels and popular media, for some reason, it was now so obvious to him that he could no longer ignore it. Abilities and essence techniques took work, while just physically doing stuff was easy. He also noticed other oddities that he usually would have ignored, or misinterpreted. Like the fact that everyone was disturbingly, sparkling clean while wearing ruined armor. While it should have looked quite odd to him, he instead easily interpreted it as a result of cleaning and healing spells being so ingrained into the soldiers¡¯ daily lives. Looking around, he noted that this was what the aftermath of a fantasy battle should look like. Cooks pulling out food from their personal space while setting up tables brought up thoughts on how people probably prepared meals somewhere else before transferring them to forward positions for eating. Wagons being pulled by people instead of animals no longer looked stupid to him, instead, he realized the practicality of not bothering with the unnecessary hassle of beasts of burden. Everywhere he looked, he saw situations that would have normally caused his brain to misfire due to cultural dissonance looking positively normal to him. While he knew he should be preparing what he was going to say to the commanders, he instead couldn¡¯t stop himself from looking at the world with what felt like new eyes. Staring down at his pale, semi-withered hands, he frowned at the lack of any strong feelings about being so physically changed after his ordeal. ¡®Shouldn¡¯t I be freaking out a bit more about this?¡¯ he wondered before realizing that even the question itself didn¡¯t seem to worry him all that much. Glancing over at his friend, Nero noted Nick¡¯s subdued smile. ¡®He must have been really worried about me. He is just happy that I¡¯m alive. I shouldn¡¯t have assumed he was just interested in what I did to the kobalds. He really is a good friend, he noted absently. Looking around to the rest of the group, he reached out with his senses and tested their essence fields. Cathleen felt worried but determined. Captain Angleton felt proud and defiant. Sergeant Blackwood felt¡­ resigned maybe? Even the former assassin¡¯s emotions felt like they were being broadcast across the ether. The man felt like he was shouting his zealotry to the heavens, just begging for someone to give him the opportunity to prove his loyalty. ¡®What the hell did I do to deserve that kind of blind devotion?¡¯ he wondered. Suddenly he realized that what he was feeling was awfully similar to what he felt like when he was floating and moving through the void. He wasn¡¯t an emotionless robot or anything, but he didn¡¯t exactly feel things in the way a normal person would. The answer to his unasked question seemed to pop into his head. ¡®It¡¯s cause my body is practically dead at the moment. I¡¯m not feeling any hormones or other physical crap. I bet my dopamine levels are all bottomed out or something,¡¯ he noted analytically. ¡°Huh¡­ weird,¡± he muttered. Nick looked over at him and asked, ¡°You alright, Nero?¡± Glancing over at him, Nero replied, ¡°Yeah. I¡¯m fine. I just realized how much having a healthy body affects the mind.¡± Seemingly eager to talk, Nick said quietly, ¡°Of course it does. Everything is connected. In your case, your soul is acting as the central pillar of your identity. Both your mind and body are a reflection of your soul¡¯s presence on this plane. Like I¡¯ve told you before, your soul is slowly adapting your body and mind into what it defines as ¡®you¡¯. You don¡¯t have to worry, with some good food and a great deal of rest, you¡¯ll be back to normal in no time.¡± Nero nodded in acceptance of Nick¡¯s hypothesis. What he was saying fit with what he was feeling, so he didn¡¯t disagree. Taking advantage of his current mental clarity, Nero kept up his observations and interpretations of everything he was seeing. He felt like it would be a waste to let this chance pass him by. Normally, he felt like he had to ignore half of what he was seeing just so he didn¡¯t lose his mind. He started noticing the differences between the tabards he was seeing, quickly assigning ranks and unit designations to things he¡¯d never paid attention to before. Seeing tents being put up by soldiers helped him conceptualize how the army operated and why they did the strange things they did. Abilities and spells he¡¯d never noticed became sources of information that he had no trouble mining for deeper cultural meanings. It was a heady and wonderful feeling to not be bogged down by his preconceptions. ¡®Is this what it feels like to think with my soul rather than my brain? Wasn¡¯t there a term for having trouble understanding things outside your neural programming? Mental elasticity or something? I bet there are some papers or studies on the link network I could look up,¡¯ he thought to himself. The thought of the link caused his mental process to stumble. ¡®Why haven¡¯t I been taking advantage of the link? Am I still hung up on the fact that it feels like mind control? Do I have some mental trauma I¡¯ve been ignoring or something? Why can¡¯t I look at it like the fantasy equivalent of the internet? Am I afraid of falling into old habits maybe? Wasting all my time on cat videos and video blogs of people building wood cabins in the middle of nowhere?¡¯ If you encounter this narrative on Amazon, note that it''s taken without the author''s consent. Report it. Nero shook his head in wry amusement at the thought of being an emo little bitch. ¡®Whatever the reason is, I should just admit that I don¡¯t like links and leave it at that. I¡¯ll either learn to like them or I won¡¯t. Stressing about it is just pointless.¡¯ While Nero was on his personal mental journey through his neuroses, the group finally arrived at the command tent. The two guards at the entrance gestured to the entire group to enter the tent the moment they saw Captain Angleton. Rather than wonder why they were bothering to guard the tent at all, Nero¡¯s newfound mental clarity allowed him to determine that the guards were simply there as gatekeepers and not intended for actual combat. Smiling in pride at finally having one of his many gripes about the military resolved, Nero nodded to the two guards in thanks before following the rest of the group into the tent. ¡®Is this what it feels like to not have cultural preconceptions? It¡¯s nice and all, but kind of boring. Nothing¡¯s pissed me off, and I haven¡¯t had anything to complain about in forever,¡¯ he calmly observed before looking around the command tent with interest. Nero noted how busy everyone looked while wondering why there was so little communication going on. ¡®Oh, right, they are probably just talking to each other and whoever they are in charge of over the communication webs they¡¯ve set up. That makes sense.¡¯ Commander Dahl caught Nero¡¯s attention as the man stomped forward, his entire posture portraying his attempt to be intimidating. Glaring at Captain Angleton, the commander ordered, ¡°You can wait for me outside. I¡¯ll deal with you and your unit when I¡¯m finished.¡± Turning to Nero, he looked down and practically sneered, ¡°Now, Lord Walker, while I appreciate your help during the battle, I¡¯d like to respectfully ask what you were thinking when you charged into the kobald encampment on your own and disrupted our counterattack.¡± Nero didn¡¯t even blink, his mind furiously processing all the little nuances of the interaction he¡¯d just witnessed. The commander seemed incredibly upset with Captain Angleton for some reason. Whether it was due to the captain following along with Cathleen¡¯s command, or something else, he couldn¡¯t be sure. But what he was sure about was that the commander was pissed about Nero¡¯s actions and was looking for an excuse to assign blame¡­ over what, he had no idea. Deciding to play it safe, Nero began to reply, ¡°Well, commander, I was thinking that -¡± Nero paused what he was going to say as he felt the essence in the room beginning to vibrate. Turning around, he raised an eyebrow in surprise as the evaluators appeared out of nowhere. ¡®Had they been standing there the whole time?¡¯ he wondered. Suddenly, the secret of their invisibility became obvious to him. They weren¡¯t actually invisible at all, they never had been. They were just muting their presence in the ether to such an extent that they were background noise. Whipping his head around, he stared at Cathleen in amazement. Memories of all their interactions flittered through his head as he recalled her doing the exact same thing to him. Then, flashes of Rose seeming to vanish into the background came to mind as he remembered her doing it to him as well. ¡°Huh¡­ so that¡¯s how you do it,¡± he muttered before tweaking his essence field into projecting the fantasy equivalent of a ¡®don¡¯t pay attention to me, I¡¯m not even here¡¯ field. Nero felt his presence mute, feeding more and more mental energy into the technique until he stopped feeling the resonance of other people¡¯s attention on him. Most people were easy to deceive, but the evaluators were a pain in the ass. It took way more effort than he thought it would, but he had to admit the results were remarkable. Scholar Idrius dropped her jaw and said, ¡°Did he just copy our essence-shielding technique?¡± The commander replied harshly, ¡°Did who just¡­ Wait¡­ Where is Lord Walker?!?¡± Nick started laughing out loud, calling all sorts of attention to himself before holding up his hand in apology while continuing to giggle behind a fist. Nero felt the strain on his mind and decided to let go of the technique, coming back into other people¡¯s perception fields as if he¡¯d always been there. ¡°Sorry about that. I just wanted to see if I could do it. That technique is weird but effective. It¡¯s like pretending so hard that you¡¯re the dullest person in the room until everyone else just agrees with you and stops caring that you¡¯re there. Henceforth, I shall declare it the ¡°Wallflower¡±. Does it work on scrying too? Or does that technique trump it?¡± Nero asked calmly but with a hint of interest. While everyone stared at him in astonishment, Academian Quincy replied, ¡°Lord Walker, perhaps we can discuss that at a later time. Right now, we should probably clear up the misunderstanding around the essence disturbance you caused.¡± Jumping on the opportunity, Commander Dahl¡¯s harsh voice rang out, ¡°So, it was you. Did you at least record the ritual you interrupted, or were you too busy playing hero to acquire any intelligence?¡± Nero looked over at the man, his confusion evident on his face. ¡°I have no idea what you¡¯re talking about. What ritual?¡± Fuming, the commander replied, ¡°The kobald ritual you interrupted that nearly brought down the entire building! Do you have any idea what could have happened if we hadn¡¯t gotten so lucky? You could have wiped out the entire expeditionary force!¡± While Nero was currently incapable of his usual scathing wordplay, Academian Quincy was not. With a tone full of mockery and contempt, he replied, ¡°Lord Walker didn¡¯t interrupt a ritual, or whatever other nonsense you¡¯ve incorrectly assumed. The essence disturbance was caused by a singular spell on par with a tactical group spell from a team of level 70 war mages. I¡¯d recommend watching your tone and thinking before you speak. While you are currently out of contact with Dorchester command due to the ethereal interference, We are not. You should expect word of your coming tribunal to reach you soon. Therefore, I suggest you focus on your defense rather than Lord Walker¡¯s methods in achieving an overwhelming victory over the enemy.¡± Nero currently had absolutely no idea what Academian Quincy was talking about, but he decided to go with it. Turning back to the commander, he offered the man a blank stare, daring him to say something. Unfortunately, the moment was ruined by the essence in the room going all ¡®wobbly¡¯ again. Turning around to stare at the disturbance, Nero noticed that aside from him, very few people noticed what was happening. The evaluators all straightened up in anticipation of something, while a few people along the sides who were dressed in mage robes did the same. Nick of course also noticed, as Nero felt the man¡¯s essence field tense up in worry. A golden flash filled the room as Archmage Jennings and several other people Nero didn¡¯t recognize appeared. While Archmage Jennings muttered something about the essence being particularly ¡®divergent¡¯ or something, Nero¡¯s attention was locked onto the giant of the man standing next to him. All the soldiers in the room snapped to attention, saluting with a fist to their chest while their eyes bulged out of their sockets. Commander Dahl handled the giant man¡¯s arrival particularly poorly. Nero couldn¡¯t help but feel the commander¡¯s essence field shaking in fear and panic as he muttered, ¡°Grandmaster Lancel!¡± Stepping forward, the grandmaster¡¯s presence swept over the room like a storm, battering everyone¡¯s essence fields like turbulent ocean waves assaulting a coast. ¡°Commander Dahl, you have been charged with violating the knight¡¯s code. What do you have to say for yourself, boy?¡± Stuttering in confusion, Commander Dahl weakly replied, ¡°What? Sir, I¡¯m not sure what you''re referring to. I haven¡¯t been charged with anything. I mean, I haven¡¯t done anything to merit such a charge! I just won a decisive battle, there must be some sort of misunderstanding.¡± The grandmaster¡¯s presence held the room so strongly that no one was able to say a word. Nero however seemed unaffected. With interest, he reached out with his essence field and tried to understand what was happening. From what he could see, it was like the giant man¡¯s essence field was pushing down on the individual essence fields of everyone else, completely ignoring the essence in the ether. It was like a directed effect on their identities. Nero couldn¡¯t even call it a technique, it was more like the giant man was so much more ¡®real¡¯ than everyone in the room that everyone else felt like background actors. Had Nero not been currently under his weird state of mind, he would have probably found it incredibly intimidating¡­ or possibly insulting¡­ probably even annoying. The grandmaster stepped forward slowly, approaching and subsequently invading Commander Dahl¡¯s personal space. ¡°Oh, I¡¯m sure you¡¯ll hear about it soon. I¡¯m currently having the investigators pour over the records of all command decisions that have been made in the past year. They¡¯ve already discovered enough evidence to have in front of a tribunal for your actions, but don¡¯t worry, you won¡¯t be alone.¡± Archmage Jennings, seemingly unhappy with being ignored stepped forward and flared his presence as well. ¡°The grandmaster was eager to come see you in person. Rarely has a Knight of Dorchester shamed his order so badly that it required his presence to sort it out. I believe there hasn¡¯t been a reckoning of this magnitude in centuries¡­ if ever,¡± the archmage declared mockingly. The grandmaster turned his head to stare at Captain Angleton. Noting how the captain was standing proudly at attention, his right hand firmly planted on his chest with a stoic look on his face, the grandmaster couldn¡¯t stop himself from smiling slightly in approval. ¡°I remember seeing you in the training yards. You have grown into a credit to the order. I want to thank you for your courage and dedication to the code. If it weren¡¯t for knights like you, I¡¯d never have known how far the order has fallen,¡± declared Grandmaster Lancel. Not moving an inch, Captain Angleton replied, ¡°I did nothing more than duty demanded, Sir.¡± The grandmaster¡¯s stoic face cracked even further into a smile before he asked, ¡°And I hear that you have formerly requested to have your rank dismissed and your oath to Dorchester vacated so that you may join the personal forces of Lord Walker? Is that right?¡± Nero¡¯s head snapped around, the surprise at what he was hearing almost enough to knock him out of his current headspace. ¡®Say what now?¡¯ he thought in confusion. ¡°That¡¯s correct, Sir. After witnessing Lord Walker defy orders and earn the loyalty of so many through his noble actions, events have given me no choice. When others buckled under the pressure, he rose up to face them. When he saw the injustice of our coming doom, he took it upon himself to defy our ill-planned fate. Even when he wasn¡¯t on the front lines, his actions saved countless lives by healing and resuscitating soldiers by the hundreds. And when the siege wyrms appeared, and all hope seemed lost, he personally charged forward to end the threat to our troops. His magics and tactics turned the tide of the battle, sacrificing himself for the safety of those around him. He has proven to me and many others that he is the knight¡¯s code made manifest. I have chosen to serve him along with many others, and whether it is as a deserter or an adherent, it does not matter. I will follow him,¡± Captain Angleton declared proudly, his strong voice nearly shaking the ether with its intensity. Nero could feel the captain¡¯s determination mixing with the essence fields of Cathleen, Nick, the former assassin whose name he still couldn¡¯t remember, along with Sergeant Blackwood, and many others. There was a reinforcing effect that bounced back and forth between them. He might not have noticed if he hadn¡¯t been looking for it. Thoroughly stunned by what he was hearing and sensing, Nero had no words. The weird state of being emotionally distant helped maintain the blank look on his face, while his inner turmoil was kept surprisingly subdued. Instead of freaking out as he should have, he instead stood regal and calm in the face of such a blatant misunderstanding of his motivations. Grandmaster Lancel stood tall and proud, his face carved from stone. ¡°Very well. I¡¯ll personally see to it that your request is granted, along with any of your troops that choose to follow you. From what I¡¯ve seen of the battle you just fought, I find myself wishing I was a couple of hundred years younger so I could join you,¡± he said, a sense of longing tinging his voice. Turning to look down at Nero, he said, ¡°Lord Walker. The archmage was kind enough to show me his personal memory engrams of your battle, and I must say that you have earned your titles and my respect with your actions. While I may not understand exactly what you¡¯ve done, I can only applaud your creative application of your unique ability and thank you for your aid in the defense of the city. Rest assured, whatever support you need to get back into fighting shape, you shall have. The army of Dorchester will stand with you, and with our support, you can rest assured that the Council of Leadership¡¯s charges of war crimes will be dismissed by morning.¡± Nero looked up at the man in confusion before turning to Archmage Jennings and asking curiously, ¡°War crimes? What war crimes?¡± Chapter 212 - Life is a like a play, participation is optional. General Branson felt the tension he¡¯d been carrying in his shoulders finally relax as he listened to the council reacting to his news just as he¡¯d hoped they would. He¡¯d called the emergency meeting they were having the moment he heard about the conclusion of the surface battle against the kobalds. While news of the victory would of course be well received, the details of how that win had happened were cause for concern. And with the order¡¯s investigators pouring through the army¡¯s records, he needed to take advantage of that concern. Granted, he probably couldn¡¯t mitigate all the charges he had coming if the grandmaster decided to involve himself further in the investigations. However, when it came down to it, the knight¡¯s code was, at its heart, a matter of opinion. Things like honor, integrity, and the separation between the martial and political were all easily defined, while their application was decidedly not. So, in order to muddy the waters, he needed to change the narrative. His recent gambits against Lord Walker could easily be redefined as foresight if he could demonstrate the new noble¡¯s existence was a danger to the city. The close partnership he had with the nobles? That could be easily explained as a check against the powers of the military without oversight. He wasn¡¯t allowing spies into the army, he was merely allowing the noble houses to serve their city while keeping themselves well informed. Grandmaster Lancel was a powerful figure, but he was ultimately just a figurehead. The real power in Dorchester was the Council of Leadership. With their support, they could ensure that aside from losing his position as the city¡¯s general, he would come out of this debacle relatively unscathed. In fact, he might even be able to transition his house into a political power rather than a martial one. But, careful handling of the situation was a must. Coming out of his thoughts, he looked over to Lord Cosgrave and listened to her rant. ¡°The young man is dangerous, we¡¯ve known that all along. However, his recent elevation to unique has tied our hands. We can¡¯t have him arrested, and we¡¯re currently under contract with him through a quest issuance, so we can¡¯t banish him¡­¡± Thinking quickly she added, ¡°Is there a way we can legally void the contract?¡± she asked. Lord Bennings rubbed her chin in thought before answering, ¡°Technically, if he did in fact commit a war crime as General Branson claims, then he has violated the terms and therefore already moot.¡± Lord Voltan, whose complete attention was surprisingly here in the now, replied, ¡°Of course he did! If he didn¡¯t perform sacrificial magic, then how could he have cast such a powerful spell?¡± The entire room turned to Mage-adept Newbanks, eager to hear her opinion. She met the room''s stares with an uncomfortable look on her face. The matter wasn¡¯t nearly as simple as they made it out to be. Powerful people were involved, like Archmage Jennings and the king. They both had plans for Lord Walker¡¯s presence in the city, and she was only here in the city to ensure that they progressed as planned. But, she couldn¡¯t deny the facts. Speaking carefully, she said, ¡°Technically, while Lord Walker did use soul magics to fuel the spell in question, he was not the one to perform the sacrifices. The current theory is that he somehow directly interacted with the soul remnants, which while conceivable possible, is currently outside of our understanding. So, I doubt the legal requirements have been met to consider it a war crime.¡± Lord Bennings replied quickly, ¡°There is nothing in the war accords to make such a distinction. It is the use of soul magics to empower spells that is illegal, the physical act of making the sacrifices is merely implied¡­ Technically.¡± Slamming his hand down on his desk, Lord Peyton snarled, ¡°See! There you have it. We can use that to get him out of our city! We cannot risk him destabilizing the local essence flows any further than he already has!¡± That was the crux of the issue. The nobles in this room knew how much the city would stand to gain after the ether finally stabilized. They¡¯d all looked at the records of how Dorchester fared back before the rebellion, and they were eager to see that level of development come again. Even if they had to abandon the city and wait it out, the benefits far outweighed the temporary dangers of the density shift. If Lord Walker was allowed to continue casting such dangerous magics, then all that potential gain was in jeopardy. Their fear was practically staining the ether with its influence. It took a great deal of effort to keep the smile off his face as General Branson nodded along in agreement. ¡ª-- Nero sat in his chair with a slight smile on his face, his emotional state so calm that he felt like he was watching a TV drama rather than an argument. While chewing on a delightful piece of unidentifiable meat from the stew he¡¯d been given, he watched the byplay going on with a sense of amused interest. Nick, who was clearly upset, stood up from his chair and leaned over the table threateningly. ¡°How dare they! Those idiots wouldn¡¯t know how to recognize soul magic if they were taken to the deadlands and fed to a zombie horde!¡± he shouted. Grandmaster Lancel looked mildly offended, but he managed to restrain himself from shouting¡­ barely. ¡°I¡¯ve already told you that I agree with you! I¡¯m merely relaying what the council is currently debating. But, the fact of the matter is that according to the law, Lord Walker did violate the war accords by using soul remanents to power his spells.¡± Taking a sip of some delightfully sweetened iced tea, Nero ignored Nick¡¯s response to see what was happening over with Cathleen and the captain. The large wooden conference table they were using was currently filled with people, each broken up into groups having their own conversations. It was a veritable feast of interesting debates and Nero was having a blast shifting his attention between them to listen in on what they were saying. Cathleen¡¯s calm voice held a tinge of anger as she replied to Ms. Keening. ¡°House Walker can¡¯t afford to take on that many adherents. Even if they are all volunteering to transfer their societal debts at a discount, there are just too many of them.¡± Ms. Keening, the current head of the wackos was sitting next to the former assassin, presenting a united front. Nero was feeling a deep satisfaction after finally overhearing the former assassin¡¯s name¡­ Mr. Harring. Unfortunately, he still didn¡¯t know the poor man¡¯s first name. Although he was sure it started with an ¡®M¡¯... or maybe a ¡®C¡¯. ¡®I really should be able to remember the name of the first and only man I¡¯ve tortured for information,¡¯ he thought to himself with a slight frown before shrugging and resuming his eavesdropping. Captain Angleton leaned forward into the conversation and said, ¡°I have 63 confirmed soldiers and staff who will be following me into Lord Walker¡¯s service. While I don¡¯t personally have a great deal of wealth, I¡¯m sure many of them would be willing to offer their help in supporting House Walker¡¯s efforts to redeem so many troubled citizens of Oglivarch.¡± Mr. Harring was on the tip of his seat, almost bouncing in place with his enthusiasm. ¡°I don¡¯t think that will be necessary. Many of us who¡¯ve decided to give Lord Walker our lives have agreed to transfer our assets into his house as proof of our resolve. We know Lord Walker is just beginning his rise, and we are more than willing to earn our opportunity to follow him.¡± Cathleen¡¯s frown was pronounced enough to give her face wrinkles. ¡°Do you intend to turn him into one of your southern prophets?¡± she hissed in anger. Standing up from his chair, Mr. Harring shouted, ¡°Of course not! Lord Walker is no mere prophet! He is a hero! He is an example of what we should all aspire to be. Our meaningless mundane lives will now have a purpose under his rule! He has shown us that we could be more than what we were. We saved actual Knights of Dorchester! We¡¯ve won a battle against incalculable odds for the sake of the city while barely losing a single man! We¡¯re no longer just citizens of Dorchester, living and dying at the whims of the nobles¡­ we¡¯re Lord Walker¡¯s Wackos! And we¡¯ll be damned to the deepest hells if we don¡¯t live up to that title!¡± Royal Road is the home of this novel. Visit there to read the original and support the author. Mr. Harring¡¯s declaration was so loud that it drowned out the rest of the room. Several people who Nero guessed were either wackos or some of those press-ganged criminals all stood up and cheered at the conclusion of his speech. While Nero understood on some level that the crazy bastard was talking about him, he was easily able to ignore the implications. In fact, seeing the dramatic conclusion to the scene was enough to make him want to start clapping. ¡®This is just like one of those period dramas about one of the thousands of revolutions against oppressive regimes,¡¯ he thought to himself in appreciation. Suddenly, the thought of what happened to whoever led those revolutions came to mind, and Nero wondered if he should intervene. He had no intention whatsoever of becoming a martyr. There wasn¡¯t a single cause he could think of that he was willing to die for. Argue about? Of course. Complain about? Sure. Mock? Most definitely. But die? Not a chance. Returning his attention to Cathleen, Nero was happy to see her successfully calming the excitable man back down. ¡°Lord Walker is many things, but following him will not give your life the meaning you think it will. He has stated many times that he is planning to live a life of freedom and adventure. His interests are solely related to magic and combat. He will not be the political figurehead you seem to think he will,¡± she stated unequivocally. After returning to his seat, Mr. Harring¡¯s face remained unmoved. ¡°The fact is, none of us know what he will be.¡± Ms. Keening nodded in agreement. ¡°That¡¯s right! Aside from the fact that Lord Walker intends to form The Walker Adventuring Company, we don¡¯t know where our lord¡¯s path will lead him. But, I very much doubt it will be anywhere we won¡¯t want to follow him.¡± Captain Angleton¡¯s firm voice interrupted the debate. His slow, measured voice subtly forced the pace of the conversation to slow down. ¡°All we can do is judge Lord Walker by his actions. He has put himself in danger on more than one occasion for what he thought was right. It¡¯s obvious that he intends to seek out dangerous situations, protecting the weak and the innocent. If that leads him into conflict with politicians, so be it. But, even if it doesn¡¯t, even if he merely leads us toward the next threat to the citizenry of Oglivarch, then we¡¯ll still have earned much in having followed him. His zest for life, personal ethics, and reluctance for power have earned our support. Would you have these people go back to their sentences under Dorchester¡¯s rule and deny them the opportunity to reach for something more?¡± Nero almost blushed. He really had no idea how they¡¯d so completely misunderstood him. ¡®It¡¯s probably a casting issue. I bet the part of Nero Walker was supposed to be played by Tom Hanks or something,¡¯ he thought to himself sarcastically, while chuckling to himself silently. Cathleen, obviously still pretty annoyed, replied, ¡°You don¡¯t think he wants power? Are you blind? He has spent every waking moment trying to learn magic and becoming stronger. His leveling speed is the fastest I¡¯ve ever heard of. His talents in destruction and combat nearly brought the entire building down on top of us barely a few hours ago. He is a war god in the making, and treating him as some kind of paragon of virtue is only going to disappoint you.¡± Nero paused his spoon before he could take another bite. ¡®Holy crap. Well said you beautiful woman!¡¯ he thought to himself with a smile. ¡®I wonder how old she is¡­ she¡¯s really wise.¡¯ Ms. Keening replied before anyone else could. ¡°We¡¯re not unaware of his personality. He¡¯s brash, irreverent, unwilling to compromise, and most likely a little crazy. But, he¡¯s also the kind of man who¡¯d take in a bunch of poorly trained caravan guards and lead them into a battle that matters, simply because they asked him to. We asked for a chance to prove ourselves, and he didn¡¯t hesitate for a second to give it to us. He took one look at the bunch of failures we were and said, ¡®You¡¯re wackos now. Embrace your insane dreams and follow me to greatness.¡¯ For that, we will follow him into whatever danger catches his eye.¡± While Captain Angleton leaned back into his chair with a proud smile on his face, Mr. Harring leaned forward and pointed his finger at Cathleen to demonstrate how serious he was. ¡°For us, we were nothing but sacrificial penal conscripts. Resigned to watch others like us being fed to the kobalds to bait a trap. We¡¯ve all made mistakes, and we knew we deserved to pay for them. But Lord Walker didn¡¯t see us like that. To him, we were just people, citizens of Dorchester who were fighting to save the city we lived in. That moment that he stood over us and asked if we were willing to just stand by and let those people die¡­ I¡¯ll never forget it. Neither will anyone else. He didn¡¯t just tell us that we could be better¡­ be more¡­ he showed us! Those who¡¯ve agreed to follow him are willing to leave their old lives behind to try and become something more.¡± Captain Angleton looked over at Cathleen and added, ¡°No one is expecting Lord Walker to found an empire, or build a city. They just want to follow someone who sees the world as something more than something to struggle against. He lives his life as if this is a world waiting to be conquered, not survived. Is it so surprising that people are willing to give up their lives for that ideal?¡± Nero felt a little sad seeing Cathleen¡¯s shoulders slumping in defeat. ¡®Oh well, looks like she¡¯s giving up. That¡¯s some weak sauce debating right there,¡¯ he complained while sipping his iced tea. After making a mental note to remind himself of ¡®Never give up! Never surrender!¡¯ T-shirts, he turned away from the predictable end of their debate and checked in on how Nick was doing. ¡®Oh, looks like the evaluators have joined the scene,¡¯ he noticed happily. Academian Quincy was standing like a lecturer addressing a class, explaining in detail how Lord Walker had simply used his unique ability to take advantage of the soul remnants in the air to power his spell casting without the aid of a ritual or any other banned magics. From what Nero could understand, the man was claiming that since what Nero was doing was not replicable by anyone else, it couldn¡¯t have been a violation of the war accords. Nero leaned back in his chair in thought. He wasn¡¯t sure, but something about that argument seemed wrong to him. Just because nobody has ever done it before, doesn¡¯t mean that no one would criminalize it. However, he had to admit that as a potential legal witness for the defense, the man did have a strong presence. His credentials as an academian would probably play well with the jurors. So, it was good that he was on his side. Nick was happily nodding along like a puppy wagging its tail. The man really did like to hear incomprehensible technical jargon. ¡®I should look into whether or not they have the magical equivalent of TED talks here,¡¯ Nero reminded himself. Grandmaster Lancel tapped his finger on the table and said, ¡°I¡¯m not sure debating the merits of the charge is the way to go. The council of leadership doesn¡¯t actually care if Lord Walker violated the war accords. They are simply using that as an excuse to terminate his quest and exile him from the city. As a unique, they can¡¯t charge him, and if they try¡­ it would only result in evaluators being sent from the capital for an investigation. Since you¡¯re already here, that would prove pointless. But, if you were to simply state that as an evaluator you have already conducted an investigation, that would cut off their argument before it got to a tribunal.¡± Nick¡¯s voice sounded more than a little annoyed at the thought of scientific technicalities being up for debate. ¡°I still don¡¯t understand what they hope to gain from this. Do they really want Nero out of this city so badly that they¡¯re willing to risk the wrath of the capital?¡± Academian Quincy replied, ¡°They aren¡¯t risking anything. Claiming that one of their questers has violated the war accords, while not attempting to punish him aside from exile, ensures that at worst their decree could be overturned upon appeal. While they can¡¯t technically exile someone without cause, the mere possibility of a war crime meets the standard well enough to allow them some leeway.¡± Grandmaster Lancel nodded, his face firmly set in a scowl. ¡°It¡¯s politics. They don¡¯t want to risk Lord Walker disrupting the density shift with major magics. The ether isn¡¯t nearly stable enough to support higher-tier magics and as such could be damaged by future acts of this magnitude. Keeping him out of the city long enough for the density shift to complete is their only aim.¡± Academian Quincy replied, ¡°Not to mention that by claiming Lord Walker violated the war accords, they wouldn¡¯t have to pay him for his service as a quester.¡± Agreeing with a nod, Grandmaster Lancel added, ¡°But I think this has more to do with the fact that General Branson is trying to discredit the young lord. I¡¯ve been -¡± Nero turned away from the conversation, ignoring it as if he were changing the channel. ¡®I¡¯ve never been a fan of crime dramas, not to mention political intrigue shows. BORING,¡¯ he thought to himself as he studied his almost empty bowl of stew. Looking around the room, he saw Cathleen, Captain Angleton, and the others still finalizing the command structure for the massively expanded House Walker. Around the rest of the command tent, there were also tons of aides and soldiers dealing with the battle¡¯s aftermath. Sighing as there was nothing worth watching, he decided to call it a night. Sending out a request to the world for what time it was, Nero saw that it was 16:30. Shrugging his shoulders, he figured sleeping wasn¡¯t all that bad of an idea. He wasn¡¯t sure how long he¡¯d been up, but it was probably longer than could be considered healthy. Remembering that his body was basically still an animated corpse, he ended the internal debate and decided to find a place to bunk down. Smirking at the thought of ducking out without anyone noticing, he gently altered his essence field to hide his presence. After taking a moment to make sure no one was paying attention to him, he stood up and walked out of the tent. ¡®I¡¯m sure they¡¯ll figure it all out. If history has taught me anything, the only time things get weird is when I¡¯m personally involved. Although I¡¯ll probably end up with a bunch more followers and the hatred of the council, I got a grandmaster on my side along with Nick and the evaluators. Hell, even Archmage Jennings was¡­ wait a minute¡­ where the hell did Jennings go?¡¯ he thought to himself while looking around for the eccentric old man. Having no idea where he went, Nero threw the fact that he¡¯d disappeared into the back of his mind and instead focused on finding a place to sleep. Walking up to the first person he saw with a clipboard, he smiled widely and said, ¡°Hello there. Where is the closest place a guy could get some rest? Also, if there is a restroom nearby, that would be worth pointing out as well.¡± Chapter 213 - I hate it when the exploit Im abusing crashes my game. Thoroughly unhappy with how many fires he was being forced to put out, Jennings clenched his teeth in anger and narrowed his eyes at what he was seeing. His attention was being split between a conversation being routed through the local mage tower to Hennings¡¯ mage council, his observation of the conversation going on between Nero¡¯s adherents and potential followers, the discussion between the evaluators and the local order of knight¡¯s grandmaster, and the Dorchester Council of Leadership¡¯s emergency meeting. Yet, it was the stupidity of the nobles that was currently occupying most of his available mental strength. ¡®These idiots are going to get themselves killed. Either the populators are going to be sent back out, or I¡¯ll be forced to do it myself,¡¯ he complained to himself. ¡°I really don¡¯t have time for this,¡± he growled while increasing how much attention he was applying to his current task. Hovering up near the ceiling of the central chamber, his hands waved in complicated patterns like a conductor, urging the essence flows to resume their standardized pattern. It was more than a little difficult to fix what Nero had broken, but it was within his capabilities. Frowning in annoyance, he struggled to get the connections right. The ethereal plane was simply refusing to cooperate with him. Fed up, he ripped apart the poorly aligned essence flows and started again. He needed to get the essence flowing back the way it should, and to do that, everything needed to be connected¡­ orderly¡­ calm. What Nero had done was anything but orderly. The young man had practically diverted every major essence flow into one place, jumbling them together like a hodge podge of every drink in his bar. Had he not been watching closely, the result could have been disastrous. And, it nearly had been. Luckily, he¡¯d gotten here quickly enough to stop things from getting out of hand. The last thing Dorchester needed was a planar rip or a sub-plane forming from the collapsed essence flows. As he couldn¡¯t teleport into the area, he¡¯d had to fly here. And by the time he¡¯d arrived, the material plane had been barely hanging on. The local reality had nearly failed to rematerialize. ¡®Such incomprehensible power,¡¯ he thought to himself in awe at the memory of how badly things had looked. Although he knew how it had happened, and he could easily reproduce the result just with his own center, that didn¡¯t make the feat any less extraordinary. For a barely trained mage like Lord Walker to accomplish something so grand, it was nearly incomprehensible. He was really going to have to sit the young man down and explain some things. There was letting the young man grow on his own and then there was letting the young man rip apart reality as if he were a troll in a furniture shop. There had to be some limits. ¡®But first, I need to get the ether back under control,¡¯ he reminded himself. After stabilizing things, he¡¯d been able to quickly go back to Dorchester and grab the grandmaster, basically shoving the memory engram of what he¡¯d witnessed into the poor man¡¯s head. Luckily, the man was at a high enough level to handle it. After all, at the time, he hadn¡¯t had many options. Hopefully, his study of the man¡¯s character would prove itself accurate. It would be much easier to let the grandmaster handle the politics than to get involved himself. Noticing something odd, he focused on a particular area of the disturbed essence. ¡®What have we here?¡¯ he wondered. Implanting his perception into the essence flows, he found his mind reviewing the word¡¯s memory of what had occurred at the center of the explosion. Widening his eyes in shock, he nearly lost control of the multiple minds he was using to watch over everything. He watched in awe as Nero¡¯s body held itself together under the protection of a conceptual essence shield that had somehow been given a material identity. He himself hadn¡¯t been able to accomplish that level of enchanting until he¡¯d reached level 80. Watching closely, he saw Nero¡¯s soul detach itself from the body it was using, poking at it like he was testing whether or not it was still worth bothering with. Then, incomprehensibly, the soul dove back in, funneling the raw unfiltered essence floating around it into the body in waves. At the time, the ethereal and material planes were overlapping, so ¡®reality¡¯ was nothing more than a polite suggestion, and Nero¡¯s soul took advantage of that fact. Jennings wasn¡¯t able to follow exactly what the soul did, but he could tell it was something significant. Suddenly, like a leveling event resulting in a pillar, the body, mind, and soul snapped into place. The body resumed functioning, forcing itself back into reality as if the world¡¯s opinion no longer mattered. The mind resumed working like normal, and Nero was alive again. ¡®Did I just witness an actual self-actualization? I thought that was only possible for higher-tier demons, gods, or conceptual beings that forced their way into our plane of existence. That¡¯s¡­ not possible. If he could do that, then why did he even bother with a body at all?¡¯ he wondered to himself in confusion. That confusion turned into happiness at the realization of what the young anomaly was capable of. ¡°Fascinating,¡± he muttered, before rewatching the event through careful delving into the world¡¯s memory while making a careful record of the memory engram for later study. While doing so, his attention was pulled by the Council of Leadership arguing over the wording they would be using for their formal complaint through the Tower of Law. Through the scry, he watched Mage-adept Newbanks rubbing her temples in pain at the headache these idiots were causing her. He¡¯d have to buy her a gift to make up for forcing her to sit in on the meeting¡­ maybe some chocolates or something. Everyone likes chocolates. Feeling the essence flows he¡¯d just fixed slipping back out of alignment, he growled in frustration and got back to work. Glancing over at the area where the memory of what Nero had done was currently dissipating, he couldn¡¯t help but sigh and hope it would remain long enough for him to get everything he needed. While he admitted that the anomaly was worth it, he had to admit the young man¡¯s potential was almost overshadowed by the trouble he consistently caused. ----- Nero leaned back on the surprisingly comfortable cot, glancing around the tent. He had to admit, these Dorchester commanders knew how to live it up in the field. While this particular section of the tent wasn¡¯t all that spacious, it was rather well thought out. There was a pleasant overhead light that was both warm and inviting. In the corner of the small space was a large mirror and a multipurpose cabinet/desk and chair. There was even a small meditation mat, complete with a potted plant and a tiny wooden rack for incense. While not an incense-guy, Nero could appreciate that the rack came pre-loaded, ready for a light. This small room was one of many in the giant tent, and he could only assume the quiet ambiance was the work of some kind of privacy enchantment. ¡®There is no way canvas walls should make a person feel this isolated,¡¯ he thought to himself. After removing his clean, but thoroughly trashed armor, he brought out one of his barrels of water from his personal space in order to give himself a towel bath. Despite being clean as a whistle due to his magic, he still felt like he needed a shower. He tossed his turned off link onto the desk and took a good look at himself in the mirror. Standing there naked, he frowned in thought at his reflection. Seeing how messed up he looked, he was once again surprised at how little his current appearance was affecting him. Although he looked like a malnourished heroin addict auditioning for a backup role in some poorly thought-out teen vampire movie, he just couldn¡¯t seem to muster up enough emotional strength to care. There was no identity crisis or sense of loss. Instead, when he looked at himself in the mirror, all he could think about was how cliche he looked. ¡®I really am just driving a meat suit, aren¡¯t I,¡¯ he remarked to himself while grinning at his reflection and trying out heartthrob poses in the mirror. After a minute or two, he got bored and decided to stop goofing around. Laying down on the cot, he folded his hands behind his head and closed his eyes. He tried to remember the last time he had meditated or dealt with the experience currently burning away in his center. Unfortunately, after having lost track of the days, he truly had no idea. Too much had happened. Done stalling, he let his mind sink into his center, returning to his inner world. Feeling like he¡¯d walked out of the house into news coverage during a Floridian hurricane, Nero winced at the sight of so many hovering memories playing out in front of him. While on some level he¡¯d expected some changes, he felt himself sighing at how screwed up everything looked. The sky was filled with red and angry clouds. Harsh winds ripped through the forest around him, making it feel like he was on the edge of a cyclone. The sound of rustling leaves and creaking branches overpowered the whispering assault coming from each memory fighting for his attention. His spiritual ¡®face¡¯ winced in pain at the needle-like rain pellets covering him in warm water. The stones under his feet had become hidden under mud and debris. The metaphor of him no longer having a path forward almost made him laugh out loud. ¡®If I ever needed proof that my inner self is a dweeb, then this is it. Only someone who spent their entire life mockingly learning psychology through web articles and memes could come up with something so overbearing and played out,¡¯ he told himself. Rolling his shoulders, he was about to dig in when he noticed something odd on the edges of the memory storm. It looked like the memories out there were being stripped of something, almost losing their color. ¡®So that¡¯s what happens when I don¡¯t review and incorporate my experiences fast enough. These spiritual representations are getting a little obvious,¡¯ he complained. After taking a moment to feel bad about how much experience he must have wasted, he pulled forward the first memory and let himself get lost in the sensations. Like a surfer biting it on a neverending wave, he let the memories wash over him. While being assaulted by scenes of his acid-melting kobald bombs, he thought to himself, ¡®I really should have checked my identity panel before I got into this.¡¯ On and on it went, in no particular order. He saw himself healing soldiers with an intense look on his face. Flashes of crying soldiers hugging him while muttering their thanks. Stern faced men and women marching forward into battle. Skies turned into auroras by falling spells splashing against multicolored shields. Quiet conversations with Nick about magic and its application. On more than one occasion, he caught himself surprised at things he either hadn¡¯t noticed or simply forgotten about. He felt the experiences seep into his center, refining his identity like a washing machine stripping off soap scum and grime. But it was more than that. Like always, the more memories he went through, the stronger his sense of self became. He saw himself clenching his fists in anger at the sight of Captain Angleton and the penal soldiers being overrun. He listened to his impassioned speech which he now realized sounded better in his head. Throughout it all, he saw the men and women around him growing more respectful of his presence. He could feel their emotions becoming more loyal as the battle progressed. Comparing the later emotional state of the ether all around him as the scenes of battle bounced around the timeline made it clear that his actions were having an effect on the people around him. He honestly hadn¡¯t noticed how many people had been watching him, each one silently judging and interpreting his actions through their own personal worldviews. While he had just been going around, doing his thing, people had noticed. This content has been unlawfully taken from Royal Road; report any instances of this story if found elsewhere. Images of him ripping through the kobald lines while he aided that good-looking woman and her unit flashed across his vision like a fever dream. Watching how he tore into the kobalds like a storm of steel was both invigorating and kind of cool. ¡®I guess I can be a bit of a badass,¡¯ he thought to himself in surprise. Unfortunately, there were just as many scenes of him doing stupid shit to keep his ego in check. He remembered his ill-thought-out attempt at spell-form alteration. The feeling of melting half his face off with his flamethrower spell reminded him how much he still had to learn. By the time he dove into the memories of his race through the kobald encampment and his many close calls, he was thoroughly exasperated with himself. ¡®I¡¯d always known I was a little reckless, but holy shit can I be an idiot.¡¯ The memory of his spell explosion hit him in the face like a sack of oranges, almost knocking him out of his mental fugue. He watched in awe at how the world around him melted into the ether. Kobalds, spell stone, armor, it all broke apart beyond the molecular level. With his expanded senses, he watched himself floating in the ether, surrounded by his struggling mage armor, barely surviving the aftermath. He winced at the sight of his body losing its color, his fat and muscle vanishing as if he were rapidly aging. Then¡­ nothing. Well, not nothing, but it looked like the memory glitched. He could feel that something was happening, but couldn¡¯t tell what it was. It was like watching a drunken blackout happen in real time. He was sure he was doing something, but he had no idea what. The memory seemed to warp and shake, as if time temporarily lost any meaning. There was a sense that something important was happening, but his mind wasn¡¯t able to accurately interpret it. ¡®It¡¯s like that time I was eating a greasy hangover breakfast, missing a shoe, cowering in regret and shame, remembering for a fact that I had hooked up with Christina Morris, but not having any idea why or where I was when I did it, all the while, positive that it both happened and that everyone knew about it,¡¯ he noted angrily. Without warning, the memory resumed playing, showing him hovering in a gray and blank world, his mage armor slowly failing while his passed-out body floated like a buoy in the water. Finally, the ether stabilized, and the essence flows returned to their somewhat normal state. The ground below him reappeared as his mage armor finally gave out, fading into the ether like smoke. ¡®Well, that was closer than I thought it was,¡¯ he admitted to himself uncomfortably. The rest of the memories flashed forward at a much faster rate, seamlessly inserting themselves into his psyche. He recalled that at the time, his muted emotions made the world seem dull and uninteresting, but now, looking back, he could tell that he hadn¡¯t actually missed anything. Although, he was now able to notice how his utter annihilation of the kobalds had affected the soldiers¡¯ perception of him. Whatever respect they¡¯d had for him before had morphed into reverence and awe. It was a little humbling to watch it happen from this unique perspective. Around him in the inner world, he felt the storm calming down, the clouds above him parting and allowing some sunlight through. Beneath him, the cobbled stone path was back under his feet, stretching into the distance once again. There was an overwhelming sense that he¡¯d come through something profound¡­ like he¡¯d survived a trial or something, narrowly avoiding some dire fate. The sensation made the back of his neck itch in irritation. ¡®It was nothing more than a battle with a bunch of stupid lizards. Nothing to feel all bent out of shape about,¡¯ he reminded himself mockingly. After looking around to confirm he hadn¡¯t missed anything, he opened his identity panel to see how he did.
Name Nero Walker Level 16
Race Human Growth 12%
Tier 1 Condition 100%
Age 14 Center 100%
Body 4 Mind 5
Soul 2 Confluence 11
Stars 0 Pillars 3/ 1
Body 4
Base Operative Level Stress
Presence 22 39.6 22.6
Durability 26 46.8 31.8
Recovery 47 84.6 19.6
Speed 25 45 36.3
Adaptability 47 84.6 28.1
Power 24 43.2 18.4
Mind 5
Base Operative Level Stress
Weight 32 64 19.3
Control 39 78 28.7
Field 36 72 43.6
Precision 55 110 38.5
Endurance 65 130 39.9
Focus 61 122 49.9
Soul 2
Base Operative Level Stress
Size 29 40.6 7.1
Density 101 141.4 13.2
Intensity 76 106.4 18.6
Pressure 27 37.8 15.9
Harmony 24 33.6 49.9
Adaptability 270 378 14.8
Nero put his hands on his hips and stared at the identity panels in anger. He¡¯d leveled? When did he level? And when did he apply his star to his pillar? ¡®Well¡­ this is some bullshit,¡¯ he complained to himself. Opening the panel for his pillar, he brought up the details to see what had changed, hoping it would offer him some answers.
Pillars
Adaptation
Stars Assigned: 3
Increased ability to handle level stress * 2
Increased ability to harmonize your attributes * 1
Frowning in annoyance, he reread the limited blurb about his new ¡®ability¡¯ over and over again. ¡®Harmonize my attributes? What the fuck does that mean?¡¯ he wondered angrily. Running his hand through his hair in frustration, he looked around at the pleasant-looking forest, still glistening in that way forests due after a good storm. The puddles of water reflected the shafts of sunlight quite beautifully but didn¡¯t elicit anything positive in him. Instead, the charming sight only further inflamed his fury at having been screwed out of a star. He had needed that star to fix his body. He didn¡¯t want to continue walking around like a corpse. Granted, he wasn¡¯t all that attached to his good looks, but he still didn¡¯t know what effect his condition would have on his combat capabilities. Exhaling sharply into the air, he looked up into the sky and tried to force himself to calm down. ¡®OK¡­ I can figure this out,¡¯ he said to himself reassuringly. Thinking back to what he¡¯d learned about this world''s dumbass terminology, he tried to remember what he learned about ¡®harmony¡¯. Unfortunately, it wasn¡¯t all that much. All he could recall was that it had to do with his soul''s ability to interact with the world. Starting from there, he could make a few guesses. For one, ¡®harmonization¡¯ between his attributes probably had something to do with what Nick was always going on about¡­ His body, mind, and soul needed to stay in sync. Confluence was the term they used for how well everything connected. But, Nero remembered that Nick had mentioned the term ¡®unity¡¯ when Jennings had been explaining Nero¡¯s body hijacking. Considering how he¡¯d practically vaporized himself with his spell, perhaps his body auto-utilized the star to keep his body together. Widening his eyes, he realized it may have been much more than that. If his soul was basically ¡®him¡¯, and he was slowly developing his mind and body with its presence, then it made sense that speeding up that process would help keep his identity together. Maybe he shouldn¡¯t be all that upset. It¡¯s entirely possible that he had made the decision, and he just couldn¡¯t currently remember it. He knew that his soul could act on its own, as it had when he¡¯d commandeered the body he was currently wearing. So, conceivably, it wasn¡¯t out of the realm of possibility. ¡®Maybe my mind wasn¡¯t capable of integrating the memories for some reason. At the time, reality was a pool of unrealized essence, so the fact that my body held together at all should be considered a win,¡¯ he said to himself comfortingly. Closing the annoying identity windows, Nero harshly blew out a lungful of air, feeling more than done with the confusing question of what had actually happened. Whatever it was, he¡¯d deal with it eventually. Besides, his body would recover on its own. And if it didn¡¯t, then he¡¯d just have to use the next level¡¯s star to fix it. There really was no point in stressing about it. Releasing his presence from his inner world, his senses returned to the tent he was currently staying in. Opening his eyes, he looked around to see the room exactly as he¡¯d left it, confirming that the level hadn¡¯t happened while he was busy going through his memories. Frowning in thought, he stood up from the bed trying to come to grips with the question that had just come to mind. ¡®If I only just now incorporated the experiences from the past few days, then how did I already use that experience to level? Shouldn¡¯t levels happen AFTER I do the whole memory thing?¡¯ he thought to himself in confusion. Standing there naked in the middle of his little room, he glanced over at his reflection in the mirror. Dropping his jaw in shock, he saw that his body had somehow returned to normal. His shiny silver hair was back, along with his abs and healthy muscles. In his reflection, bright blue eyes met his, the confusion evident on his face. Louder than a standard mutter, he nearly shouted, ¡°What the ever-living fuck! Am I ever going to understand how this leveling shit works?!? This world is bullshit! It doesn¡¯t make any God-damn sense! I swear -¡± Nero threw the mother of all hissy fits, flailing his fists around and kicking the air like he was determined to beat the shit out of the very air. Completely forgetting about his need for rest, thoroughly losing it, his epic rant went on for a good long while. Chapter 214 - So much to deal with. Jerry Cordswith was a nobody. He knew that. Everybody knew that. While some people were destined for greatness, he knew he was bound to be a disappointment. Granted, he¡¯s had some successes, but in the grand scheme of things, his lifetime of mediocre accomplishments hadn¡¯t lived up to the hope his parents had in his talents. Currently, he was leaning against a wall on the 32nd floor of the mage tower, watching over the penal conscripts who¡¯d been assigned to him. Like busy little bees, they were flittering around, hard at work. His charges were all mages, much like himself. Yet, as penal conscripts, they were currently being treated as poorly paid laborers. It was his job to make sure they got through their assignments for the day, making sure they worked hard to pay back the societal debt they¡¯d earned. Although they were all mages, as penal conscripts, they weren¡¯t entitled to respect, or even achievement points toward their advancement. For all intents and purposes, until they earned back their freedom, they were simply workers without a name. Sometimes, he couldn¡¯t help but envy them for their simple, uncomplicated lives. Watching them painstakingly replace the worn-out crystal relays along the wall, he remembered why this was the kind of work reserved for penal conscripts. This kind of job required some specialized knowledge and ability, but despite that, it was boring and annoyingly repetitive. No mage of any significant ability would waste their time with this kind of thing. Instead, they¡¯d rather spend their precious hours earning achievement points and accolades to move up through the tower. That wasn¡¯t to say there weren¡¯t mages in the tower who managed the day-to-day affairs, no longer having any hope of advancement. ¡®Mages like me, I guess,¡¯ he thought to himself sadly. He¡¯d been in this position, this same dead-end job, for over 30 years. By this point, he barely needed to pay attention anymore while he ¡®worked¡¯. Not that it mattered, nobody would care enough to complain unless something went terribly wrong. Glancing over at a group of particularly hard-working mages, he brought up their records on his link. Snorting in amusement, he noticed that all five of the young mages were arrested and processed together. They were each currently serving a 2-year sentence for accidentally destroying one of the labs during a poorly prepared experiment. Idly remembering a few of his own youthful indiscretions, he felt himself smiling at the memory of being so young and dedicated to his advancement. ¡®How had it all gone so wrong?¡¯ he wondered. Without meaning to, he started thinking about the scene he had watched last night over a beer with his friends. As a ¡®member¡¯ of the group dedicated to following the tenants of The Walker, he was able to get a hold of the memory engrams being secretly distributed throughout the tower. While he didn¡¯t necessarily buy into the ¡®greatness¡¯ of The Walker, he could admit to himself that he was a fan. It was fun watching the anomaly with a soul and memories from some foreign and alien outer plane find his way through the world. At the time, that¡¯s why he had joined the group of fanatics. Lately, however, he has been more interested in the memory engrams being produced about The Walker¡¯s followers. Over the past few days, he¡¯d truly enjoyed watching the hunter, turned assassin, turned penal conscript, Mike Harring. Something about the man just resonated with him. Seeing him come into his own, gathering followers for The Walker, and giving speeches¡­ was inspiring. He remembered how Mr. Harring had stood up on a table, loudly declaring that The Walker was different from the nobles they¡¯d gotten used to, and then explaining in detail how he had personally led them to victory¡­ Even now, the memory was enough to have him involuntarily smiling. ¡®That was an incredibly moving moment, wasn¡¯t it,¡¯ he thought to himself, imagining being in the crowd, witnessing and participating in that small city''s history being made. Suddenly, he found himself looking at the penal conscripts in front of him with new eyes. These men and women were people just like him. Maybe they¡¯d made some mistakes, fallen off their path, but that wasn¡¯t any reason to look down on them. After all, he¡¯d been in their shoes once or twice over his long life. Who¡¯s to say that he¡¯s any better than them? Recalling how The Walker stood tall over the penal conscripts, held up by his personally adapted ¡®earthen wall¡¯ spell, he found himself remembering the feeling of ¡®humanity¡¯ he had inspired during his speech. Shrugging himself off the wall, he felt himself compelled to DO something. Walking up to the group of young mages struggling with the installation of a particularly advanced part of the essence distribution system, he said, ¡°Here, let me show you it¡¯s supposed to be inserted into the attachment collar.¡± Smiling widely at their surprised faces, he felt a sense of pride at being able to teach them something. ¡°Don¡¯t feel bad about not understanding the schematics. The Tower of Magic¡¯s technologies are the finest in Oglivarch.¡± He kneeled down right next to them, pointing out the crystal harness, and began his lecture, ¡°Thousands of years ago, this right here was the pinnacle of essence collection and distribution technology. If you look right here¡­¡± Jerry Cordswith then went on to spend the afternoon teaching these young mages everything he knew about the tower¡¯s systems. For the first time, in a long time, he felt the burning desire for life igniting in his center. All the while, he felt the memory of Mr. Harring and The Walker watching over him in approval. ¡ª-- After finally getting to bed, Nero suffered from a poor and troubled sleep. Images and scenes of kobalds running screaming down darkened tunnels assaulted his mind like sledgehammers. He watched as groups of more intelligent-looking kobalds spoke to each other in hurried tones, debating how they should respond to their failed assault on the surface. Seeing them in their caves under firelight, eagerly planning their campaign against the smoothskins, made Nero¡¯s body toss and turn under the covers. Down deep underground, large portals to another plane stood tall and imposing. Kobald troops scurried back and forth through them like ants, ferrying supplies and food by the wagonload. Strange and exotic lizards of various sizes and shapes were being used as beasts of burden and mounts. Nero felt the difference between the kobalds he had fought, and these more intelligent and less wild enemies. It was obvious on a visceral level that these were the true kobalds¡­ the masters and source of the invasion. In a cold sweat, still asleep, Nero clutched the sheets in panic at the sight of the birthing rooms. He saw impossibly large caves filled with lines and lines of eggs being watched over by hunched kobalds, spraying them down with steaming liquids that he ¡®felt¡¯ smelled as terrible as they looked. His viewpoint flew across the caverns, seemingly pulled toward the source of the eggs. The feeling of humid fog and slime clung to him as his vision burst into a central chamber. There, in the middle of the cavern, he saw large, bloated kobald mothers hooked up to some kind of unholy combination of technology and ritualized magic. Glowing black and red crystals pulsed with light as the kobald mother¡¯s bellies swelled before expelling their eggs out by the dozens. To Nero, it felt like he was witnessing a horror movie. But in a way, it was more like he was watching a nature documentary, understanding and empathy were being pumped into him as if he were being forced to learn how the subject of the docuseries lived. He understood that this was how kobalds battled. They forcefully birthed their soldiers for the invasion, infusing them with life and essence, giving them a destiny that amounted to nothing more than grunts and sacrifices. It was both inhuman and incredibly practical. So many cliches of clone armies and survival of the fittest flickered through the dream as his mind struggled to understand what he was seeing. Having no control over the visions, he felt himself being pulled out of the chamber, flying back through the tunnels toward the portals. Somehow, he just knew that there he would find the answers he sought. Like a wraith, he flew through the air over the uncountable hordes of kobalds, heading toward one of the towering portals. There, at the moment he was about to pass through, he felt himself jerk awake in his tent, cold and shaking, struggling to hold on to the memory of what he¡¯d just witnessed. Feeling his heart racing, he could no longer deny what had just happened. ¡®OK¡­ that was definitely not just a nightmare. Holy hell that was intense,¡¯ he thought to himself in shock as he rubbed his hands over his face to fully wake himself up. Forcing himself out of bed, Nero felt a little wobbly on his feet as he wiped himself down with a damp cloth. Now clean, he turned to stare at his reflection, seemingly looking for answers from his doppelganger. ¡°You need to talk to Nick about this. Probably Jennings too,¡± he decisively ordered his reflection, glaring at himself in the mirror. After calming himself down, he pulled out his armor and some clothes, intending to get dressed so he could start his day. Unfortunately, he hadn¡¯t realized how badly his armor had been damaged. Despite having been protected by his mage armor, it looked like the several knicks and scrapes that had gotten through had been enough to turn his respectable leather armor into a patchwork of scraps being held together by a hope and a prayer. Scowling in annoyance, Nero tried using some of the basic repair spell forms he¡¯d read about. From what he knew, these kinds of spells used the target¡¯s identity as a pattern to reinforce and rebuild what had been damaged. As a household spell from one of the first books he¡¯d ever studied, the slight variations were good for broken plates and simple furniture. He was pretty sure they should have worked well enough for clothes and armor, but apparently, he must have misunderstood something. Despite how much effort he exerted, regardless of how much center he poured into the spells, nothing happened¡­ not just nothing¡­ decidedly NOTHING. It was infuriating. Speaking of center, he noticed that the soul stuff in the ether had practically disappeared overnight, having broken apart and rejoined the essence flows. Even though he hadn¡¯t seen it happen, he guessed that the world had reappropriated all that floating potential to reinforce the material reality all around him. If you come across this story on Amazon, be aware that it has been stolen from Royal Road. Please report it. Now dressed in some simple clothes that he¡¯d ¡®borrowed¡¯ from his time in the center, he stepped out of his tent humming the tune of ¡®Circle of Life¡¯ and doing a poor rendition of that incomprehensible chanting. ¡°Kaaamaaaana-heyaaaa!¡± he muttered with a smile as he looked around the central portion of the tent. Happy to temporarily put his disturbing dreams behind him, he focused on the buffet set out for the commanders. While picking up some random bits of meat and fruits, he mentally thought about how comedically ¡®wrong¡¯ it was to be eating Simba and that warthog whose name he could never remember. Sitting alone at one of the tables, he held up a fork of what he assumed was some sort of eggs, and said, ¡°I thank you for your sacrifice. Your life has served a grand purpose¡­ my breakfast.¡± While enjoying his food and washing it down with some type of fruit juice, he couldn¡¯t help but empathize with the vegans and PETA back home. It really is kind of an asshole thing to do to eat meat. ¡°But on the other hand¡­ BACON!¡± he said while holding up a strip of some unidentifiable animal and ripping off a big bite with his teeth. Accepting that he was, and always has been an asshole and that life was nothing more than a harsh, competitive fight resulting in only two things¡­ winners and losers, he was just happy not to be currently serving as a kobalds breakfast this fine morning. Right as he was about to put his empty plate with the other dirty dishes, he paused for a moment in contemplation. ¡®Why don¡¯t they just clean up after themselves when they are done?¡¯ he wondered. Looking around, he saw various tables of commanders and other soldier types chatting away with each other, enjoying their food. No one was paying attention to him, or even close enough for him to ask them what he thought was such an obvious question. Turning back to the pile of dirty dishes, cups, and utensils in the box in front of him, he decided that his karmic balance could use a boost. Perhaps it was the fact that he¡¯d just eaten a bunch of meat after having contemplated the circle of life, or maybe it was due to him having spent the previous few days massacring kobalds, either way¡­ he decided to try out another one of the household spells he¡¯d memorized. Setting his plate back down on the table, he held out his hand and carved the spell form from memory. Designating the plate as his target, he completed the spell without issue, watching with a smirk as the last bits of his breakfast flaked away into the air like ashes floating away from a fire. ¡®Magic is so fucking awesome,¡¯ he said to himself, appreciating the moment. Suddenly he realized that he had just been itching to use magic, and the philosophical crap he had just been thinking about was all just to make himself feel better. Shrugging off the predictable realization, he placed his now clean plate back where he found it while leaving his utensils and cup for the dishwashers. ¡®Taking away someone¡¯s job so that I can absolve myself of any guilt I have for eating Bambi is too stupid¡­ even for me,¡¯ he said to himself. Walking out of the tent, he mentally changed gears and reached out to find anyone he recognized. While he could probably find the communication channel his unit had been using, he didn¡¯t feel like doing that. It was easier to just find someone he recognized and ask for directions. He really wanted to sit down with Nick and cover all the crap they needed to talk about. Surprisingly, he found that the tent he¡¯d just left was either shielded or enchanted to stop anyone from looking inside it. Raising his eyebrows in surprise, he looked over at the guards standing near the entrance. ¡®They¡¯ll do,¡¯ he thought to himself. Walking up to them, he offered them a small wave and a smile before asking, ¡°Hey guy. You wouldn¡¯t happen to know where Nick¡­ I mean, Lord Verena-Salvatore is, would you?¡± He watched as one of the guards¡¯ eyes went a little blank, obviously communicating with someone through a communications link. Patiently waiting, he thought about how much of a pain in the ass long-distance communication was without the Central Thought Hub available. Communication links like the guard was using needed to be manually set up and maintained like a hive mind. It was basically the fantasy equivalent of handing out hand radios. Of course, his conjecture was immediately disproved by the fact that he could see the link lighting up on the side of the guard''s temple. ¡®Oh¡­ right. They probably brought in one of those battle-hub things while I was sleeping. I could have just used that. I¡¯m such a dumbass.¡¯ he thought wryly. ¡°Lord Walker, your house has been given a tent near section C12. You can find directions through your link. Your authorizations are still valid. I¡¯m told Lord Verena is currently with several of your adherents in the tent¡¯s communal room. However, that can¡¯t be verified at the moment. You can be sure that somewhere there will know where he is, though,¡± the guard said stonily, quite obviously trying to sound as serious and professional as possible. Grinning at the guard''s cliched display, Nero nodded in appreciation before thanking the man and walking off. Using his mental presence to reach into his pocket and connect himself with his link, Nero sighed at how many pings were waiting for his attention. ¡°It really never stops with these people,¡± he muttered, his tone making his annoyance clear. Before anything else, he flipped through the various menus until he found a map of the encampment the army had set up in the recently acquired massive chamber. Looking at how they¡¯d laid out their tents and temporary buildings, Nero couldn¡¯t help but chuckle at how similar it looked to how the kobalds had set theirs up. He knew he shouldn¡¯t have been surprised. After all, how many ways were there to organize this many people? But he still couldn¡¯t help but find the similarities a little amusing. After locating where he had to go, he altered course and headed off toward his house¡¯s tent. Surprised at how far away it was, he chuckled at the mental image of Cathleen arguing with some soldier about House Walker¡¯s image if his house¡¯s tent were so far away from the army¡¯s power structure. ¡®My trailer is supposed to be directly across from the buffet!¡¯ he thought to himself sarcastically, imagining himself as a snotty Hollywood star demanding his due as the battle¡¯s lead actor. Deciding to take advantage of the walk, he started going through the pings he had waiting on his link. He nearly stumbled when the first one he opened was from Natalie Keening, complaining about the disrespect being shown to House Walker by the army due to his tent¡¯s placement. She requested leave to assign one of the wackos as a community liaison. The person¡¯s job would be to create what sounded like a video blog which would be posted over the Thought Hub. The intention was to promote House Walker¡¯s ideals and let the people of Dorchester know about what Lord Walker, his house, and the Walker Adventuring Company were up to. According to her, most houses had a community liaison, and the fact that he currently doesn¡¯t is simply unacceptable. She made it clear that the first videos to be released would discuss the battle, how poorly the army had acted, the disrespect they¡¯d shown him after his single-handed defeat of the enemy, and character profiles of the high-ranking members of his house. Not knowing how he should answer, he set the ping aside and moved on to the next one. Even though it had been a while ago, after having spent a full day with Vera forcing him to go through his pings, Nero had gotten better at assimilating the information quickly. When interacting with the link, it wasn¡¯t exactly like reading or watching the television. It was more like allowing the information to sink into your brain and then absorbing it. As a result of burgeoning skill, he was able to move through the pings rather quickly. There were a bunch from his wackos. Apparently having been given access to the battle hub, they¡¯d taken the opportunity to send him personalized messages, thanking him for allowing them to join House Walker. Nero could practically feel their loyalty oozing off their messages as they recapped what they¡¯d covered during their interviews. They spoke about their lives, what they wanted to accomplish, and how much he¡¯d inspired them. Concerning the battle, they¡¯d thanked him for leading them to victory, praising his selfless act of hurling himself into danger to save them from the same fate of the soldiers who¡¯d died at the hands of the siege wyrms. Nero found himself shaking his head in amusement at their fan letters, because to him, that¡¯s what they were. What they were saying barely made any sense. He¡¯d spent most of the battle in the back of the lines, thoroughly protected from any danger. Even when he was in the fighting, it was as a mage. Mostly he was playing with his magic, trying out different things and experimenting. Hell, the only reason he got involved at the end was because he couldn¡¯t stand how stupid the army was being. The last thing he wanted was the roof coming down on his own head because he was too busy letting everyone else fight his battles for him. Yet, the pings did bring a little warmth to his heart. How couldn¡¯t they? It was surprisingly nice to get so much positive feedback. Not wanting to send out a form letter reply, he instead set the pings aside so that he could address them later. Next, he got to Cathleen¡¯s predictable after-battle action report. Some of it he didn¡¯t understand, as he couldn¡¯t comprehend how many people had signed up to follow him into battle. Along with a casualty report, she included their unit''s current roster. He saw sections for the wackos, Captain Angleton¡¯s soldiers, and two sections for penal soldiers who¡¯d come under his banner. Curious, he looked into the penal forces and saw that there was an attachment listing who wanted to join House Walker and who had only signed up for the battle. For those who¡¯d just signed up for the battle, Cathleen had already sent in the paperwork to command listing their accomplishments and their earnings toward their sentence with the Tower of Law. Looking closer, he could see details concerning how many kills each person had and whether or not they participated in any particularly dangerous maneuvers. It was all very thoroughly done, and Nero had absolutely no idea how she¡¯d accomplished it. The other section for the penal soldiers had their profiles along with individual requests to join his house under either a life-oath or temporary assignment. Frowning in confusion, Nero saw that he had 37 people waiting to sign their lives over to him. Others had contract requests for between 50 and 100 years. One even had a societal debt of over 300 years for murdering an entire family that he wanted to serve under House Walker. Unable to help himself, Nero dug further into the story, like a true-crime enthusiast entranced by the promised drama. The guy''s name was Clarance Ferguson. His wife and two daughters had been killed during what was assumed to be a bandit raid. However, the poor guy found out that a merchant in charge of a shipment had wanted to pad his books, so he had arranged for all the citizens accompanying the caravan to be killed off in some kind of complicated scheme with the help of his brother who owned the guard company employed to ensure the caravan got to its destination. When Clarance found out, he went all John Wick on their asses and wiped out their entire family. By the time the city guards arrived, it was all already over. He then turned himself in without complaint, taking his sentence like a man, a sentence he¡¯d been serving for 33 years so far. Whistling softly in appreciation for the tale, Nero reminded himself to track this guy down and buy him a beer. ¡®Dude was a trained furniture maker who took the law into his own hands. I¡¯d read that story,¡¯ Nero said to himself with a smile. Moving on, Nero glanced at the formal request sent by Captain Angleton on behalf of his troops. The man gave an alarmingly long explanation of why he was requesting to join Nero on his adventures, and extolling Nero¡¯s many virtues. Unable to bring himself to read the confused man¡¯s ramblings, Nero closed the ping quickly. The image in his head of Captain Angleton standing tall, like a real-life action figure came to mind, contrasting sharply with what he¡¯d just read. ¡®If that man ever learns what I¡¯m really like, he¡¯s going to shove my head into something thoroughly uncomfortable¡­ like my ass,¡¯ he warned himself sternly. Setting that future problem aside for the moment, he returned to the main menu in his link. Seeing that the last few pings were from Army Command, that grandmaster guy, Archmage Jennings, and some dude named Commander Gallegos, Nero felt like sighing in relief at this hell almost being over. Just when he was about to open the ping from Jennings, his attention was caught by someone shouting his name. Blinking his eyes a few times to clear his head from the autopilot he¡¯d been running on, he looked around to find who was calling out for him. Seeing one of the wackos jogging toward him with a disgustingly happy smile on her face, Nero felt like he¡¯d possibly made a big mistake in coming here. ¡°My Lord! You¡¯ve already recovered from your injuries! I told Charlie that you could do it! Come, everyone is waiting for you!¡± she said excitedly, nearly ripping his arm out of its socket as she led him toward what could only be his tent. Hanging off posts on both sides of the massive entrance were his house¡¯s flags. The stupid ass symbol he¡¯d arbitrarily decided on glared brightly on the enchanted fabric, the teal lettering proudly declaring this tent House Walker¡¯s. In the center of each flag, floating over a book, he saw the evil smiley face he¡¯d proposed. The glowing orange and red balls of what looked like spellfire were both grinning widely, clearly mocking him. Even worse, his house''s words now looked much more prominent and douchey than he remembered. ¡°Game. Win. Repeat.¡± While being pulled along like an unruly child who¡¯d gotten himself lost at a street fair, Nero couldn¡¯t stop himself from groaning in annoyance at what was coming. ¡®I should have stayed in bed,¡¯ he thought to himself grumpily. Chapter 215 - The problem with intelligence. A little more than four hours of sleep should have been enough for Nick to recover from all the recent excitement he¡¯d found himself embroiled in. However, instead of feeling refreshed, he found himself struggling to get out of bed. From the moment he¡¯d opened his eyes, memories of what he¡¯d recently gone through assaulted him. Scenes of death and misery acted as a backdrop to the political and social concerns interwoven through the experiences. Even having been there to witness it all happen, he could still hardly believe it. Nothing in his long life had prepared him for such dramatic events. He was a researcher¡­ a scholar¡­ He simply didn¡¯t have the necessary temperament to be a supporting character in Nero¡¯s legend. Because that¡¯s what it was¡­ a growing legend. Awkwardly making his way through the tent¡¯s canvas hallways, he forced himself to calm down and think rationally. By the time he arrived in the communal space where he and the others agreed to meet, he felt he finally had himself back under control. Seeing Academian Quincy sitting at the table with Scholar Idrius standing calmly behind him, Nick recalled the conversation he¡¯d had with the man the night before. The memory of the explanation he¡¯d been given concerning what Nero had done made him shiver unconsciously. ¡®Such dangerous magic,¡¯ he thought to himself grimly. Taking a seat at the table, he didn¡¯t interrupt the conversation going on between Ms. Averett and Captain Angleton. Her voice firm, she continued on as if Nick¡¯s presence weren¡¯t worth acknowledging. ¡°That sounds like a reasonable way to organize everything, at least until we can acquire more support staff.¡± Ms. Keening, the current head of the wackos, leaned forward and asked, ¡°If you¡¯d like, I can put out the word that we¡¯re looking for more people. I¡¯m sure between the new recruits and our wackos we can cast a wide net.¡± Nick realized that this was a continuation of what they¡¯d spent last night discussing. Ms. Averett would act as the head of the Walker Adventuring Company, while the now-former captain, Mr. Angleton, would lead House Walker¡¯s military arm. Between the two of them, they would split up the new recruits and create an organizational structure that would streamline the rapid growth House Walker was going through. Meanwhile, all the ancillary details like administration and accounting would temporarily remain under Vera¡¯s control. Since House Walker still resided in Dorchester for the moment, there was no immediate need to find someone to run the House. Glancing over at Academian Quincy, Nick noted the satisfied look on the man¡¯s face. ¡®He couldn¡¯t care less about the charges against House Walker. He really doesn¡¯t seem to think the council¡¯s decisions will affect anything,¡¯ he thought to himself, thoroughly numb from all the changes that had been happening. Having apparently sensed Nick¡¯s state of mind, Academian Quincy turned his head to meet Nick¡¯s eyes, drawing attention to himself and pausing the discussion. While everyone turned to look at Nick, wondering what had caught the academian¡¯s attention, the man said quietly, ¡°I understand that you¡¯re worried, but I assure you that the grandmaster and I have it under control.¡± Captain Angleton¡¯s firm voice added, ¡°Leave the politics to the politicians.¡± Nick shrugged uncomfortably under their scrutiny. ¡°I still say they might have a point. What Nero did nearly disrupted the delicate balance the essence flows have achieved. During an event like an essence restabilization, his actions could be justifiably regarded as reckless. After hearing Academian¡¯s explanation of what Nero did, perhaps we should encourage Nero to step back for a while, and spend some time learning and refining his abilities.¡± Ms. Keening¡¯s fist visibly clenched on the table, her fervor clearly displayed in her eyes. ¡°That would be a mistake! Lord Walker¡¯s presence on the battlefield won this battle for us. Word of his heroic actions is spreading through the camp like wildfire. I¡¯ve even heard that some people have ferried memory engrams of his exploits back to Dorchester so they could be uploaded onto the Thought hub. We need to take advantage of this opportunity to spread House Walker¡¯s influence.¡± Nick shook his head helplessly. These people were dead set on making Nero out to be someone he was not. They all looked at him and only saw what they wanted to see. If things kept progressing the way they were, they¡¯d end up anointing Nero a war saint, and founding a new city in his name. Just picturing Nero¡¯s face at the imagined coronation ceremony brought back the sense of unreality he¡¯d been trying to shake off since he¡¯d gotten out of bed. ¡ª-- Nero felt more than a little uncomfortable as he was dragged through the tent¡¯s entrance. He could sense everyone watching him, their essence fields making it clear how much they thought of him. It felt like hundreds of hands reaching out, begging for him to validate their faith in him. Emerging into the large central space of the tent, Nero was surprised to see what could only be described as the ¡®core¡¯ members of his house. They were all patiently waiting for him to arrive. Like statues, they were standing around a sturdy wooden table in the center of the room, while behind them more House Walker flags hung on the walls as a backdrop. People he didn¡¯t recognize moved around the edges of the room, delivering coffee and moving supplies. What looked like canvas curtains along the walls led off into hallways, most likely leading to the tent''s bedrooms and kitchen. It was like someone had taken a large circus tent and turned it into a mansion. Feeling the wacko who¡¯d led him here finally let go of his arm, Nero looked over at her in shock as she awkwardly bowed before leaving as quickly as she came. It had all happened so fast that he hadn¡¯t even had a chance to say anything to her. ¡°Lord Walker, please join us. We were just discussing when to hold the life-oath ceremonies,¡± offered Ms. Keening with a smile. Turning back to the table, Nero blinked rapidly to clear his mind. ¡°Right. That¡¯s the thing where people sign their lives over to me so they don¡¯t have to serve their criminal sentences anymore?¡± While Nero joined them at the table, Academian Quincy¡¯s smooth voice replied, ¡°Not exactly, they¡¯d technically be swearing to House Walker, not you. House Walker would then be taking on their social debt. However, as you are the only official member of House Walker at the moment, it amounts to the same thing.¡± Looking like he was unable to contain himself, Nick spoke up. ¡°Nero, before anything else, I think we should talk about that last spell you used to end the battle. You probably haven¡¯t realized it yet, but Archmage Jennings has been dealing with the fallout since yesterday.¡± Taking his seat, Nero was happy to see a pitcher of coffee and some pastries laid out, just waiting for him to indulge himself. Glancing up at his friend, Nero replied, ¡°What fallout? I thought the kobald bodies and everything else got vaporized. Is there some kind of spell radiation or something?¡± Nick¡¯s reply was cut short as he parsed through the translation of Nero¡¯s words. Filling the pause, Academian Quincy said, ¡°No, not so much as any kind of dangerous emission, more like the ether in the area has been slightly affected by the spell¡¯s density and flow rate.¡± Nero, now confused, felt like he was about to be getting another lecture. And, just as he¡¯d expected, Nick and the Academian Quincy then spent the next ten minutes explaining in detail what Nero¡¯s spell had done to the ether. When taken as a whole, it sounded kind of bad. ¡®I wonder if Jennings is going to be pissed about how much work I caused him.¡¯ After making a mental connection to something Nick had just said, Nero cut him off abruptly. ¡°Wait a second. So, that¡¯s what the council is talking about? The war crime thing that was mentioned yesterday?¡± he asked After piecing together what he could understand from what Nick and Academian Quincy were saying and his limited grasp of local history, he could understand what the council was worried about. It sounded like he¡¯d almost caused the same kind of disruption in the ether that the populators had when they fought in that rebellion. If Jennings hadn¡¯t been here, Nero might have actually screwed up the essence flows even worse than they already were. Before anyone could respond to Nero¡¯s question, he jumped ahead to the crux of the matter. ¡°So, are there any legal repercussions I have to worry about? I¡¯m like a unique or whatever, not to mention a noble. Considering how fancy all that sounds, what am I looking at here? A fine? A public apology or something? I¡¯m telling your right now, I¡¯m not going to be picking up any trash,¡± he declared quickly, worried about what this bullshit was going to cost him. Nick sat there shocked as if Nero had completely missed the point of what they were saying. On the other hand, everyone else was displaying varying levels of amusement in response to his questions. Ms. Keening was the first to respond, bouncing around in her seat like she was ready to lead the charge in organizing an extensive letter-writing campaign. ¡°They wouldn¡¯t dare! You did nothing wrong. Your actions saved countless lives and ended the threat of the kobald invasion. Those bastards should be thanking you and giving you your justified rewards. Don¡¯t you worry, my lord. We¡¯re with you to the end!¡± Nero tried to keep the confusion he was feeling off his face but wasn¡¯t sure if he managed it. Looking around the table with interest, he tried to feel out what everyone was thinking. Captain Angleton looked stubbornly determined for some reason. Cathleen looked rather proud, and the evaluators both wore matching smirks. Meanwhile, his old friend Nick continued to look poleaxed. Not knowing the best way to handle it, Nero went with an old platitude he¡¯d heard somewhere. ¡°Well, you can¡¯t please everybody. Trying to will just end up disappointing both them and you.¡± ¡°Well said!¡± shouted Captain Angleton, making Nero jump a little in surprise at the man¡¯s intensity. ¡®What the hell did he just read into that?¡¯ Nero wondered. Sitting up in her seat, Cathleen¡¯s stern visage alerted everyone that she was joining the conversation. Keeping her voice quiet and calm, she said to Nero, ¡°Which brings us back to the beginning. We need to schedule a time for the life oaths. House Walker is currently in an unprecedented growth stage. More people are signing up than we currently have members. Your house needs structure and management to handle this kind of rapid expansion.¡± Nero bought himself time by slowly sipping his coffee. ¡°Do I really need to grow the house? I mean, it¡¯s not like I¡¯ll be staying in Dorchester forever. There is a hell of a lot of world out there. After we finish off the kobalds, I¡¯ll probably be heading out and dealing with the awards and crap waiting for me at the capital. It would be good to stop by the library there and check out some books on magic while I¡¯m at it. I don¡¯t think I need an army for any of that,¡± he added sarcastically. Before Cathleen could respond, Ms. Keening interjected excitedly, ¡°Where you go, we go. I seriously doubt that when you get there you won¡¯t need support. We are willing to follow you into whatever adventure you find yourself in. The Walker Adventuring Company will earn its keep, don¡¯t worry about that. We can take contracts through the local Hunter¡¯s Hall or under House Walker¡¯s name through the city.¡± If you spot this narrative on Amazon, know that it has been stolen. Report the violation. Captain Angleton nodded along, agreeing with the former guard. ¡°That¡¯s right. I and my troops will be handling the training. We¡¯ll make sure everyone is ready to face whatever challenge you lead us into. Have no fear, my lord. Your people will be safe.¡± Nero¡¯s mouth opened and closed mechanically a few times, not knowing what to say in response to that obvious miscommunication. ¡®Did he think I was worried about them? How the hell did he get that from what I said?¡¯ he wondered, completely at a loss. Academian Quincy leaned forward, adding his opinion to the discussion. ¡°That¡¯s all for later. For now, we need to focus on the present. The grandmaster of Dorchester¡¯s knightly order and I will handle the council. We¡¯ll make sure they live up to the quest they issued. Ms. Averrett and Ms. Keening will handle the recruitment of your forces, while Mr. Angleton will manage their disposition. The only thing you need to decide is whether or not you¡¯ll personally be involved in taking their life oaths. While it¡¯s not strictly necessary, it might further encourage their loyalty,¡± he advised softly. Nero set down his coffee cup, before brushing his hands free of crumbs from the pastry. ¡°There is no way in hell I¡¯m getting involved. If you all want to build up the house into something, have at it. Aside from my name being on the flag, it has nothing to do with me. I¡¯m just here for the lolz.¡± Silence descended on the table like a heavy weight. Nero could feel it in their essence fields, they were all digesting his words with a gravity that immediately made him feel uncomfortable. Whispering softly, Academian Quincy savored the word¡­ ¡°LOLZ¡­ enjoyment of the moment and the unflinching pursuit of personal happiness. Wonderful¡­ what a beautiful and profound concept.¡± Nero couldn¡¯t help but shake his head in amusement as he watched them all struggling to rapidly comprehend the concept of ¡®lolz¡¯. Once again, he found himself contemplating the potential repercussions of his imagined T-shirt company. Ms. Keening¡¯s fervent voice rang out across the table like a declaration of war. ¡°Yes. It¡¯s about what we want out of our lives after joining House Walker. You¡¯re right. You have your own concerns, and shouldn¡¯t have to cater to our dreams. It¡¯s up to us to realize them ourselves. If we want House Walker to flourish, then we can¡¯t simply rely on you to make it happen. It¡¯s our responsibility¡­ our destiny!¡± Nodding along, Captain Angleton replied strongly, his voice sounding like a soldier assuring his commander of victory. ¡°I understand. We¡¯ll get it done, my lord. Your words will be passed among the adherents. You can count on us.¡± Nero¡¯s face must have lost three shades of color as the blood retreated from his cheeks. ¡®What in the ever bloody hell are they talking about?¡¯ he wondered. Even Cathleen looked like she¡¯d taken something away from what Nero had said, as she was currently rubbing her chin in thought. Nick decisively ended the conversation by standing up and gesturing to Academian Quincy. ¡°Nero¡¯s right. He¡¯s got more important things to do than deal with politics. He is a unique of unprecedented potential. Academian Quincy and I have agreed to work with him on his spell casting before we return to Dorchester to prepare for our next engagement with the enemy. He trusts you all to handle it, and I¡¯m sure you¡¯re up to the challenge,¡± he said supportively. Nero¡¯s brain rebooted the moment he heard that he was going to be getting some more instruction in magic. Was what he was hearing accurate? Were they all agreeing to let him fuck off and learn magic while they managed all the crap he didn¡¯t understand or care about? Was there a luck stat or something that he¡¯d overlooked? Academian Quincy stood up to join Nick. ¡°We¡¯ll be taking Lord Walker to the training field. Scholar Idrius will join you while the other evaluators continue aiding the grandmaster in dealing with the council.¡± Turning to Nick, he added, ¡°They¡¯ve already passed along your message to your wife. She assured them that she could handle it.¡± The other members of House Walker¡¯s defacto council stood up as well, trading subtle nods of encouragement with each other, reassuring themselves that they could handle their duties. As the group broke apart, Nero remained seated. He felt himself paralyzed with shock at how quickly everything had been decided. ¡®Did that just fucking happen?¡¯ he wondered. ¡°Nero, are you ready now? Or are you still eating?¡± Nick asked, his voice sounding neither rushed nor impatient. Forcing himself to stand up, Nero replied quickly, ¡°No, I¡¯m good. So, the whole war crime thing is being handled? The recruit stuff with all the criminals is being dealt with, and I¡¯m free to do some magic training with you guys?¡± Academian Quincy and Nick shared an almost impossibly fast glance at each other before Nick replied, ¡°Yes¡­ if you¡¯re up for it. We really need to go over the possible repercussions of what your kind of soul magic can do. What you did yesterday cannot be allowed to happen again.¡± Had Nero not been sufficiently stunned by events, Nick''s tone near the end there might have made him wince. But, as it happened, he was barely paying attention to what he was hearing. ¡®I finally achieved the impossible. I¡¯ve acquired the mythical protagonist aura that will allow me to do whatever the hell I want without any sort of consequences. This¡­ this is the dream,¡¯ he thought to himself in awe, his face contorted into an offputting smirk. ¡°Lord Walker, are you alright?¡± asked Academian Quincy worriedly. Shaking off the weird thoughts, Nero¡¯s eyes cleared and he refocused on the two old mages in front of him. ¡°Yeah, no problem. Let¡¯s go learn some magic!¡± he said excitedly, thoroughly putting everything else they¡¯d talked about out of his mind. Like a kid being taken to the toy store, Nero was nearly skipping in excitement as the two led him out of the tent toward the training area. On the way, Nero began mentally compiling a list of all the questions he¡¯d wanted to ask but never had a chance to. Figuring he¡¯d start with the most recent and work backward, he said, ¡°So, I should mention that I¡¯ve been having dreams of kobalds that might not be dreams. It kind of felt like scrying, but more ¡®big picture¡¯ if that makes any sense. How do I go about controlling that?¡± Both Academian Quincy and Nick halted in their steps, immediately making Nero nearly stumble into them. Looking up at their shocked faces, he asked, ¡°What? Is that not normal or something? Jennings made it clear that I needed to be careful not to kill myself while delving and scrying, so I figured that was near the top of the priority list for what I needed to learn.¡± Seeing as the two scholarly men were just continuing to stare at him in shock, Nero added, ¡°Seriously, did I almost kill myself again or something? What¡¯s wrong this time?¡± Academian Quincy and Nick recovered at nearly the same time, quickly exchanging looks with one another. While Nick subtly began looking around as if he were searching for spies, Academian Quincy reached out, placing his hand on Nero¡¯s shoulder. ¡°Nothing¡¯s wrong. We¡¯re just a little surprised. Before we voice our suspicions, let¡¯s start at the beginning.¡± As Academian Quincy led Nero forward, protectively shielding him with one arm, Nick walked alongside them keeping an eye out. Nero wasn¡¯t exactly sure what Nick was so worried about, but he felt the tense atmosphere and adjusted himself accordingly. Keeping his voice low, he spoke about what few of the dreams he could remember. He painted a tale of his ethereal consciousness floating around, observing the kobalds in their natural habitat. The longer he talked, the more he seemed to remember. He described the feelings and explanations of what he had experienced in addition to what he had actually witnessed. He recalled details that he thought he¡¯d forgotten about what the kobalds had been eating, how their homes were decorated, and even their social structure which was more complicated than he¡¯d realized. When he got to the parts about the ¡®true¡¯ kobalds and how they lived versus the ones they¡¯d been killing by the thousands, he found himself pausing due to the uncomfortable feeling in the ether. Like he was coming out of a trance, he blinked away the memories and looked around. Academian Quincy and Nick had led him to a small bench alongside a large open area set up with training rings. While most of the training rings were empty, he could see a few soldiers arranging themselves for their morning workouts. As the central chamber they were currently occupying was large to the point of ridiculousness, there was plenty of space for everyone to do their own thing. Looking up at Nick and Academian Quincy, Nero was surprised to see the worried looks on their faces. ¡°Ok, seriously guys. What the hell? Why do you both look like I just told you I secretly collect toenail clippings in mason jars?¡± he asked snidely. The mood immediately lightened, and Nero felt the oppressive feeling of their concern through their essence fields retreating. Coughing lightly into his hand, Nick awkwardly began, ¡°Well, it¡¯s like this Nero. Do you remember the time you accidentally sent your consciousness through one of the essence disturbances?¡± Nero took a seat on the bench alongside the two men, frowning in confusion at the subject change. ¡°Um¡­ yeah.¡± Glancing over at Academian Quincy, Nero added, ¡°But I thought we weren¡¯t supposed to talk about that?¡± Shrugging uncomfortably, Nick replied, ¡°Nero, Academian Quincy is an evaluator. In addition to being a much more knowledgeable scholar than I am, he¡¯s also at a much higher level. With his position at the Royal Academy, and his orders having directly been given by the crown, he had every right to discuss his target with whoever he wanted. Despite our friendship, I couldn¡¯t have lied to him when he asked me to tell him about you.¡± Chiming in, Academian Quincy added, ¡°You don¡¯t need to worry. Your friend hasn¡¯t betrayed you. The evaluators and I are merely here to learn about you and have unanimously agreed to aid you in any way we can. Nothing we¡¯ve learned or will learn will be used against you.¡± Nero couldn¡¯t help but snort in amusement at their obviously naive sincerity. He hadn¡¯t exactly understood what Nick was so worried about, so he wasn¡¯t all that offended that his friend had ratted on him. Besides, Nick was the one worried about anyone finding out, Nero hadn¡¯t cared in the slightest. ¡°OK¡­ so what do my dreams have to do with that? Was I sleep scrying? Is that a thing? Did my soul leave my body and take a walk across the ether?¡± he asked humorously. Academian Quincy replied, ¡°That¡¯s one way to describe what you did. However, a better way to think about it is that you projected your presence along the ethereal flows which are tied to the kobald forces.¡± Nick took over, ¡°Remember when I was describing the wilds to you? We talked about how the forest had an identity that could be affected by what was currently residing in it. The entire material world works in very much the same way. The kobald society¡¯s identity has for all intents and purposes invaded our own, overlaying itself on top of who we are as a people. What you tapped into was that essence flow. Your soul followed those flows back to the source, letting the kobalds society impart its essence into your mind.¡± Trying to interpret what Nick was saying, Nero asked, ¡°Like brainwashing? Or more like sleep learning?¡± Both Academian Quincy and Nick took a moment to mentally translate Nero¡¯s words. ¡°Sleep learning is a good way to think about it,¡± replied Academian Quincy. Nick nodded in agreement. ¡°While you left your body behind to observe the other plane through the essence disturbance, you didn¡¯t need to do that when you looked in on the kobalds. You merely delved into their identity through their spreading influence through the ether. You weren¡¯t in any way in any danger, so in that regard, you can relax.¡± Academian Quincy took over, ¡°However, that you were able to delve so deeply into the ether without meaning to is rather worrying. There are high-level mages who¡¯ve trained for centuries to be able to do what you did. Though, they tend to be awake and in control of their delves.¡± Nero chuckled good-naturedly at the jab. ¡°Well, I¡¯m just a natural I guess. Is this anything like the will of the world thing that subconsciously teaches people how to use weapons during training?¡± Nick smiled, and replied, ¡°Very similar, yes. The world carries the entirety of everyone''s experiences as an echo. Interestingly enough, you already know about the transmission medium.¡± Nero immediately got the hint. ¡°The soul stuff in the ether that I was using? That¡¯s the leftover remnants of identities after people died, right? The potential gets stripped and added to the material plane while the experiences and memories get added to the world¡¯s memory¡­ but wait, it¡¯s just the mind that¡¯s being left behind, right? The soul gets sent on to the outer, or upper¡­ whatever, one of the other planes,¡± he asked, losing his train of thought a little near the end of his hypothesis. Academian Quincy seemed a little surprised at how quickly Nero had parsed together that subsection of ethereal theory. ¡°Yes, that¡¯s more or less correct. However, you¡¯re wrong to assume that the soul is completely separated from that ¡®soul stuff¡¯ as you call it. What you were using was actually the remnants of the departed souls.¡± Scoffing loudly, Nero replied quickly, ¡°Bullshit. I know a soul when I see one, and those were NOT souls. It was just a bunch of potential with unactivated memories clinging to it. The memories passed on fine, I just repurposed the potential.¡± Nick frowned in annoyance at Nero¡¯s blatant disregard for their society¡¯s longstanding beliefs based on millennia of research. ¡°You can¡¯t be sure of that Nero. There have been countless studies cov-¡± ¡°Yes, I can! I¡¯m sure because I can SEE it. You¡¯re acting like a blind man arguing that the sky isn¡¯t blue. Although I don¡¯t know how I can prove it to you, I¡¯m telling you¡­ that soul stuff is NOT souls. No matter what dumbass study you show me, I¡¯m not going to ignore my own eyes and just take your word for it,¡± Nero declared heatedly. He was really getting tired of having this argument. Academian Quincy¡¯s voice was trembling as he asked. ¡°You can SEE souls?¡± Nero looked back and forth between the two shocked men. ¡°What? I thought I mentioned that? Can¡¯t everybody? How else do you resuscitate people?¡± Nick¡¯s timid voice was barely a whisper when he replied, ¡°Nero, resuscitation is a conceptual spell worked out over hundreds of thousands of painstaking trials. No one¡­ and I mean NO ONE¡­ is capable of remembering what happens after a soul delve. It¡¯s just the application of theoretical knowledge trained into a spell skill. Do you¡­actually recall what the inside of a soul looks like, what you experienced?¡± Nero looked back and forth between the two stunned men, thoroughly caught off guard by what they were saying. He felt himself mumbling incoherently, ¡°But the book said¡­ or, I thought it said¡­ there was a part about the connection between the soul and the¡­ a tether¡­¡± Pausing to take a deep breath, Nero closed his eyes and said quietly, ¡°Well¡­ shit.¡± Chapter 216 - Clinical judgments. If it weren¡¯t for her years of practice hiding her emotions, Mage-adept Newbanks would have been wringing her hands in anxiousness. All her available moves have been played. Now, all she could do was wait and see if it would be enough. Glancing around the Hall of Leadership, she took stock of the councilors'' dispositions. Lord¡¯s York and Peyton were the easiest to figure out, they merely wanted to maintain their prospective positions through the city¡¯s upcoming troubles. They¡¯d voted to stay in Dorchester, gambling on the successful defense of the city¡¯s walls. Both of them knew that after the ether stabilized, their houses would reap a substantial benefit in the kingdom''s power ladder. Lord Voltan was a little more difficult to anticipate as he was too clever for his own good. He was the kind of man who would mistakenly seek an advantage when there was none to be found. It wouldn¡¯t be out of character for him to cause a disruption just for the sake of chaos. Then there was Lord Bennings. As the head of the local Tower of Law, she would likely keep her opinion in line with the facts. While she no doubt had some personal political motivations, she wouldn¡¯t dare risk her position by letting them influence today¡¯s proceedings. Or, at least Mage-adept Newbanks hoped she wouldn¡¯t. Lord Newling was already taken care of, she had made sure of that. House Newling was currently the weakest of the ruling houses, and all it took to bring them in line was some subtle threats concerning their actions in placing spies within the military. As close friends of General Branson, they had no choice but to publicly oppose him. But for the remaining two, there was nothing she could do. General Branson and City lord Cosgrave each had their own agendas, and therefore both were beyond her control. General Branson was already guaranteed to lose his position in the coming days. Therefore, his entire focus was set on persuading the council into declaring Lord Walker a threat to the city. If he couldn¡¯t succeed today, then his most likely defense of his actions would fail miserably during his upcoming tribunal. He needed his actions to be explained away as justifiable foresight. Turning her attention to the final member, and current head of Dorchester¡¯s Council of Leadership, Mage-adept Newbanks could barely keep her glare under control when she looked at the infuriating woman. ¡®Like a poisonous viper, she¡¯s been just waiting for the opportunity to strike,¡¯ she thought miserably. Lord Walker¡¯s presence had been destabilizing the city for months. His actions might have aided the city lord in some small manner, but he is also responsible for her having to execute both her heirs and arguably her favorite consort. Also, if rumors were to be believed, she¡¯d be soon invalidating her current consort agreements and freeing her house from any and all entanglements. With her current stranglehold on the power structure of the city, City lord Cosgrave has no reason to keep an unstable element like Lord Walker around. Sighing in defeat at how powerless she was, Mage-adept Newbanks turned her head to watch Grandmaster Lancel approach the council. Taking a good look at him, she had to admit he was an impressive specimen of man. Although he wasn¡¯t nearly as high a level as his presence suggested, in this backwater little city it was more than enough to suppress these petty nobles. Striding across the room, the city seal under his feet, he projected an air of indifference and mockery of the council¡¯s power. Adding to the grandmaster¡¯s intimidation factor, Mage-adept Newbanks noted several evaluators from the Royal Academy calmly following behind him like aides. Their presence was a silent but potent factor supporting his position. While she hadn¡¯t been able to personally speak with the man, she had made use of several intermediaries to pass on information to bolster his defense of Lord Walker. It hadn¡¯t been easy, but she¡¯d provided several citations referring to cases of historical law, testimonies from citizen groups, and even some research papers concerning soul magic and its few but varied lawful applications. Mage-adept Newbanks knew the evaluators and the grandmaster were intent on defending Lord Walker¡¯s actions and maintaining his presence in the city. As she hadn¡¯t heard from the king, all she could do was support them silently, hoping that they would ensure the king¡¯s plans continued unabated. Lord Walker must remain in the city. He must stand against the kobalds and ensure the city isn¡¯t evacuated. If that didn¡¯t happen, all the careful and stressful planning she¡¯d done over the past month would end up being pointless. Unable to stop herself, she let out a final sigh of frustration. There was nothing more she could do. She could only hope that her sleepless night would provide an outcome that didn¡¯t result in her being sent back to Hennings, stained with the indignity of failure. ¡ª-- Both Academian Quincy and Nick took turns lecturing at Nero about the factual realities of the afterlife. Flanked by the old mages in the middle of the bench, Nero had no choice but to continually turn his head as if he were stuck watching a tennis match. Out of the corner of his eye, he could see soldiers training. While they were using other training circles, keeping a respectful distance from them, Nero could sense through their essence fields their dedication and enjoyment of what they were doing. Yet, here he sat, stuck listening to these old men talk and talk. As the two knowledgable mages systematically destroyed his worldview, Nero found himself Involuntarily shifting in his seat, lamenting the fact Nick and Academian Quincy had chosen to have this conversation in the middle of the training fields. Had it not been for the continual metaphysical bombshells he was hearing, he would most likely have already objected to their casual disregard for his comfort. Nero had read about the afterlife and the different planes, but he hadn¡¯t had it explained to him by people with such scientific accuracy. The way they were talking about it was so matter-of-fact that it seemed increasingly impossible to argue with them about it. They continuously cited studies, referencing famous scientists and researchers, all the while treating their religious beliefs as indisputable truths. Nero had no choice but to accept what they were saying. ¡°Fine!¡± he shouted, successfully ending their assault. Hopping to his feet so he could address both of them without turning his head back and forth like an idiot, Nero rounded on them like an angry girlfriend unwilling to suffer the loss of an argument. With his voice barely containing his hostility, he growled, ¡°I¡¯ll grant you that most of what you are saying is probably true. You¡¯ve both probably studied the different planes well enough to know what god has staked claim where. I also won¡¯t argue that you couldn¡¯t possibly know what happens when a person dies. Considering that the scientists you¡¯ve mentioned tracked and documented how it happens, I¡¯d be a fool to disagree with you. I¡¯ll even grant you that your understanding of the differences between the mind and soul is probably right on the money as well.¡± Holding up his finger accusingly, Nero continued on despite their obvious happiness, ¡°BUT! I will not change my mind on what it was I was using to fuel my spells. They were NOT souls! I don¡¯t know how I can explain it any simpler than that.¡± Before the two old mages could respond, Nero began pacing back and forth, ranting and raving for all he was worth. ¡°You obviously can¡¯t see what I see. I¡¯m telling you for a fact that the soul stuff floating around after someone dies has nothing to do with their soul. I¡¯ll give you that it is made up of the same kind of stuff¡­ that particular type of essence or whatever¡­ but there is no identity there. When I¡¯ve dived into someone to bring them back from the dead, I¡¯ve seen their souls returning from wherever it was they went. I¡¯ve watched the connection between their mind body and soul reestablish itself.¡± Stuttering to a stop, Nero¡¯s tone changed completely as he just thought of something. Ignoring the two mages, he rubbed his chin harshly with one hand while his other waved around crazily. ¡°That tether¡­ I bet that¡¯s what gets released when a person finally dies. It¡¯s probably the manifestation of their current potential waiting for them to incorporate it into their identity. The soul on the other side is made of the same stuff¡­ so it resonates or something¡­ like it¡¯s the same frequency.¡± Academian Quincy leaned forward on the bench, intending to interrupt. ¡°Soul tethers are merely a conceptual exp-¡± Completely ignoring the man, Nero barreled on with what he¡¯d been saying. ¡°So, buy using that soul stuff, I¡¯m actually doing a service! I¡¯m cleaning up the ether of all the leftover crap that hasn¡¯t had time to dissipate. The memories and experiences still get absorbed by the world, it¡¯s just the wasted potential that I¡¯m repurposing. Exactly like I said!¡± Academian Quincy and Nick shared a look, not knowing how to respond to Nero¡¯s rapid theory crafting. Stolen from its rightful place, this narrative is not meant to be on Amazon; report any sightings. Throwing his hands up in excitement, Nero turned to them and said, ¡°Do you see what this means?!? Someone could bottle that stuff without feeling bad about it. They could create their own essence crystals. I mean, think about it, it¡¯s basically the same stuff, just not crystalized yet.¡± Nodding to himself, Nero added, ¡°That also explains where essence crystals come from. The world doesn¡¯t want those memories yet. Killing an animal that has already been adopted into the local ecosystem doesn¡¯t give you one, it¡¯s only beasts and monsters that are foreign to the area that result in their creation. I wonder if that¡¯s the method that the monsters use to take over an area?¡± Happy with his conclusions, Nero stood there proudly, mentally going over the argument he¡¯d just come up with in his head, finding it both plausible and unable to be easily refuted. Quickly coming out of his thoughts, Nero looked over to see both old men staring at him in shock and horror. Assuming they were probably still worried about him accidentally destroying the local ethereal balance or something, Nero waved his hand dismissively and added, ¡°Don¡¯t worry about the essence flows. As long as I don¡¯t overdraw on them too much, there shouldn¡¯t be any future problems. My mistake was not regulating the spell form I was using. I just shoved too much potential in it and let it go ham¡­ probably not my best idea to be honest, but what are you gonna do? Shit happens.¡± Seeing the two mages exchange another uncomfortable look, Nero decided to change the subject back to something he was interested in. ¡°So, now that I¡¯ve agreed that you all know everything there is to know about the afterlife, and that I won¡¯t be causing any more ecological essence disasters¡­ can we talk about magic now? I have questions that need answering.¡± Both Academian Quincy and Nick stood up slowly, seemingly cautious of upsetting Nero or possibly not getting their point across. Nick stepped forward first, his voice both serious and concerned. ¡°Nero, you must never crystalize souls. That practice is both abhorrent and massively illegal. Even as a unique, that kind of research will get you executed by anyone who learns of it. Do you understand what I¡¯m saying to you?¡± Nero blinked up at Nick in confusion. ¡°Um¡­ alright. It was just an idea. But, to be clear, I¡¯m not suggesting we ¡®crystalize souls¡¯, I¡¯m just saying that the leftover potential from someone dying could be put to use. You¡¯re a researcher for god¡¯s sake, can¡¯t you come up with a legal and scientific way to study the idea before jumping to conclusions?¡± Nick turned to look at Academian Quincy in fear, his horror at not having succeeded in getting Nero to drop the subject obvious. Stepping forward to place himself next to Nick, Academian Quincy looked down on Nero with a pronounced frown on his face. ¡°It¡¯s not that simple Lord Walker. The subject has been deemed closed by the Royal Academy, and any research into that subject has been declared illegal. Nothing short of intervention by the royal family could affect that ruling.¡± Nero shrugged, not particularly bothered by that. To him, it sounded like nothing more than rich assholes being set in their ways. He was all too familiar with the concept. Suddenly having an idea, he smirked and said, ¡°Well then, I¡¯ll just have to ask the king about it when I meet him.¡± Nick visibly shook in fear at the idea of Nero bringing his idea to the king. ¡°Are you insane?!?¡± Nero, understanding Nick¡¯s position held up his hands in surrender. ¡°Don¡¯t worry so much! I¡¯m not going to do anything stupid. Have a little faith in me, would you? If I do end up talking to him about it, I¡¯ll be discreet. I¡¯m not going to advocate killing people to farm essence crystals or anything¡­ I¡¯m not a monster.¡± Academian Quincy¡¯s face contorted into a confused but thoughtful expression. ¡°No¡­ you¡¯re not. But you aren¡¯t exactly fully human either.¡± Nero looked over at the man in shock. ¡®Well, that¡¯s kind of a dick thing to say,¡¯ he thought to himself in annoyance. Before he could formulate a response, Nick took the opportunity to defend him, ¡°He is human. That isn¡¯t a fact that¡¯s up for debate. Both his identity and his soul confirm it! If you have any intention of questioning that, I¡¯ll file an appeal with whoever I need to. You will NOT have him classified as a threat, not while I¡¯m still breathing!¡± Nero was a little surprised at the venom in Nick¡¯s tone. He knew the man was intimidated by Academian Quincy¡¯s level and power, so seeing Nick take such a hard stance made him feel all warm and fuzzy about his friend. Academian Quincy shook his head in denial at the accusation. ¡°I¡¯m not saying Nero isn¡¯t a human. Or at least that¡¯s not what I was implying. The thought just occurred to me that Nero lacks a lot of the empathy that is ingrained into people by virtue of being exposed to other people¡¯s essence fields. It¡¯s not a bad thing, or at least I don¡¯t mean it that way. He is simply only interested in his own pursuits, I¡¯m starting to think he may not see other people as relevant.¡± Nick¡¯s mouth opened and closed a few times, unable to form a counterpoint. Nero, standing there in confusion, asked, ¡°You¡¯re saying that I¡¯m a sociopath?¡± Academian Quincy met Nero¡¯s eyes unflinchingly. ¡°Not exactly. Sociopathy is a documented phenomenon where a person¡¯s identity is resistant to exterior emotional stimuli. In practice, you share many of the same traits, but your scans don¡¯t show the same markers that are commonly associated with that sickness. To be clear, all I¡¯m saying is that you may be the perfect example of a person dedicated to their path without any other considerations¡­ considerations like the people around him or their opinions.¡± Nick¡¯s voice changed into one of scientific analysis. ¡°He does have a tendency to ignore other people¡¯s opinions with alarming regularity. He also tends not to emotionally register the severity of the situations he finds himself in. What do you propose is the cause of his emotional detachment?¡± Nero frowned at Nick¡¯s obvious mischaracterization of his personality. Academian Quincy placed his hands on his hips, taking a moment to choose his words carefully. ¡°I believe it is due to his soul being so unique. He hasn¡¯t yet completely adopted this plane of existence as his own. On some level, I think his soul believes he¡¯s just visiting. So, in a way, he is more like a planar invader than a human being.¡± Nero felt the academian¡¯s conclusions hit him like a hammer. ¡®Have I really been that much of an asshole? I thought I got along with everybody. I have friends, followers¡­ hell, if that former assassin guy is any indication, I¡¯ve probably got a cult springing up in my honor,¡¯ he thought to himself. Unable to come up with a reasonable response to what they were saying, Nero stood in silence, thinking over his past actions from an objective perspective. ¡®Continually forgetting everyone¡¯s name is probably not a good sign though,¡¯ he admitted to himself sadly. Nick didn¡¯t give Nero time to think, continuing the conversation as if he weren¡¯t even there. ¡°It could be a question of his soul¡¯s instinctual identity overpowering the one he manifested on this plane. We¡¯ve already seen evidence that his personality is being shaped by it, so it would stand to reason that his emotional state is being influenced as well.¡± While the two old mages continued debating his faults, Nero took the opportunity to walk under their eyeline back toward the bench they¡¯d been using. Plopping himself down, Nero numbly thought about what they¡¯d said about him. He hadn¡¯t felt this bad about himself since he¡¯d learned that everyone in his middle school was under the impression that he had a learning disorder. Looking at it rationally, Nero couldn¡¯t deny that he was a bit distant from people here. Aside from Nick and Vera¡­ and maybe Cathleen¡­ he usually kept people at arm''s length. But that was just because he couldn¡¯t trust anybody, right? Rose was always around, but she was a former spy and basically eye candy. The wackos barely knew anything about him, and the soldiers he¡¯d trained with were nothing more than work acquaintances. Honestly, who else did he really know? Even Nick and Vera were only friends with him due to convenience. They got just as much out of the relationship as he did, didn¡¯t they? He made them a ton of money and improved their social status by association. It may be a bit of a dick thing to admit, but it was true. Vera was like a big sister¡­ an adopted big sister¡­ but still a sister. Nick on the other hand was a bro. They looked out for each other and gave each other shit. That¡¯s friendship, true friendship. Looking up into the sky, Nero ignored the calm, analytical voices of the old mages. While he could hear them still debating the pros and cons of his personality, Nero was focused on completing his internal audit. Perhaps he needed to branch out and embrace the world a little more. It was weird, and the people were stupid, but it had its charms. Treating it like a game wasn¡¯t a good long-term strategy. It may work temporarily, allowing him to not go crazy in the face of everything constantly not making sense, but eventually, he¡¯d have to come to terms with the fact that he was here and now part of this world. Luckily, his goals didn¡¯t really need to change, just the way he went about them. He could still have the life of adventure and excitement that he wanted. But now, he have to allow for the idea that he wasn¡¯t alone anymore. Glancing over at Nick ardently defending his failings, Nero felt his signature smirk return. He hadn¡¯t known the man all that long, but he truly did like him. With Nick, there wasn¡¯t any subtext or games. The man was a dork, a wonderful and amusing dork. How he ended up with a woman like Vera was anybody¡¯s guess. Thinking of Vera and everything she¡¯d done for him, he felt his center swelling in appreciation for her care and support. Yes, she probably had her ulterior motives, but she¡¯d still looked out for him. When it came down to it, she deserved the benefit of the doubt. Even Cathleen wasn¡¯t all that bad. While it was true she was entirely too focused on some imagined future where he ended up being a war legend or something, she did care for him in her own way. Whether he liked it or not, he was now the leader of the wackos. In fact, he was the head wacko in the W.A.C. and it was time he started acting like it. Academian Quincy¡¯s voice was calm and collected as he responded to Nick¡¯s most recent point. ¡°I agree. The personality matrix his soul has infused into his identity is probably not being affected by anything he learns or experiences here. But, we can¡¯t know that for sure. You¡¯ve seen yourself that his unity status is abnormal. Rather than developing in tandem, it''s entirely possible that his soul is appropriating his experiences on this plane into his soul¡¯s core identity. His physical and material mind may only be a reflection of that identity. It¡¯s been proven conclusively that the mind is a physical representation of a person¡¯s identity on the material plane. However, Lord Walker may be the exception to that rule.¡± Nero barely followed what they were saying, but he had to admit it sounded impressive. Closing his eyes, he reached out to his link. After making the connection, he brought up the ¡®thank you¡¯ messages from the wackos he¡¯d put off dealing with. ¡®If I¡¯m going to be the leader they seem to think I am, I¡¯m going to have to stop pushing everyone away. No one got anywhere by ignoring their responsibilities, and one pointless life should have been enough for me to learn from my mistakes. It¡¯s time to nut up or shut up. They want me to be a leader, so that¡¯s what I¡¯ll be,¡¯ he said to himself, feeling his determination settle into his center like concrete. Not wasting any more time, he opened up the first message at the top of the list. Seeing it was from Natalie Keening, he read it one more time before he began writing his reply. Chapter 217 - What you mean and what you say. Captain Angleton skillfully filled out the paperwork for his dismissal from the army, artfully stating his reasons and intentions to join Lord Walker¡¯s growing house. Meanwhile, he stood in front of his troops, giving them what could most likely be the final speech he would give as captain of Dorchester¡¯s army. ¡°You¡¯ve all joined the army for your own reasons. However, each of your paths has led you here, to today. Many of you were once part of the hunter squads, road crews, or scouts. You¡¯ve seen firsthand how political interests have interfered with our duties to the citizenry of this great city. When given the chance to join the elites, you took it. Here, you expected to fight on the frontlines against the dangers of the wilds, protecting and defending Dorchester from the terrors it will face. But, instead, your training was cut short, thrusting you into a war against the kobald threat. While no one''s fault, you were cheated out of your promised training. For that, I apologize. Then, after having taken the field against the enemy, you were forced to fight a suicidal battle to close a portal to the kobald¡¯s plane. Against all odds, you prevailed. While unbelievable, it¡¯s true. A danger the likes of which generations of citizens had never imagined was stopped by you¡­ true elites of Dorchester. As a result of that victory, you were tasked with a greater responsibility. The kobalds, while pushed back, were not defeated. Replacing their lost troops with reserves from the mountain, they continued their push above ground. But, you were not deterred! Alongside your brothers and sister, you fought hard to return to Dorchester. And after you succeeded, you rejoined the army¡¯s main force and were ordered to reinforce the weakening lines, once more throwing yourself into danger to defend the city you call home. But, instead of support, you were again given a suicide mission. This time, not due to the vagaries of fate, but by the will of the army you dedicated your lives to. Army command sent you all off to die, sacrificed so that the kobalds would over-commit to their offensive. And for that, I can only once again apologize. As your captain, it was my responsibility to lead you to victory, and in that regard, I failed. It was not me who led us out of that trap, but a humble young Lord who refused to stand by and watch us die. Perhaps it was fate that led him to be watching our struggle, or maybe just chance. Either way, when the portal opened on the mountain¡­ he was there. When the kobald horde overtook us¡­ he was there. When the siege wyrms brought the ceiling down on top of us¡­ HE WAS THERE! I know following me into his service may not be the right choice for many of you. You all have families and responsibilities that you shouldn¡¯t leave behind. But, for me, this is something I feel I must do. Lord Walker does not talk about his honor, integrity, or commitment to excellence¡­ he demonstrates it everyday. He does not waste words proclaiming his virtues¡­ he displays them proudly for all to see. From the moment he arrived in our city, he rose up from his commoner beginnings to earn the title of Lord by defending the city from one of its traitorous nobles. He then earned his victory in the arena, trouncing an assassin sent to end his rise by more petty and vindictive nobles. Time and time again he stood against those who¡¯d block his path, adamantly refusing to give in. He then joined us as an elite, setting aside the comfortable life he could have had as a noble and thereby earning our respect. Then, on the mountain, after facing more assassins and defying more nobles, he took up his magic and decimated the kobalds by the hundreds, personally closing the portal that would have been our doom. None of us would be here today if it weren¡¯t for his personal intervention.¡± Pausing his speech, he looked around at his assembled troops, his firm gaze locking eyes with every one of the elites under his command. He couldn¡¯t stop his heart from pounding in his chest like a jackhammer, the subject and contents of his speech too much for him to handle. Never in his life had he meant what he said so much as this moment. ¡°I will follow Lord Walker along his path, hoping that I will find my own. I don¡¯t know where he intends to go, or what he intends to face, but I¡¯ll be standing alongside him, facing it with what I hope is conviction enough to carry us through. If any of you wish to join me, you¡¯re welcome. I¡¯ve spoken with Grandmaster Lancel, and have been given his blessing. In his own words, ¡®If we send off the pride of Dorchester into danger without supporting him, then what is left for our walls to defend? Go, protect him as he carves his legend into the world, and represent Dorchester as his faithful knight. Always remember your oaths of knighthood. While you may no longer be a knight of Dorchester, you will always remain a knight of Oglivarch!¡¯ So, my companions, who will follow Lord Walker with me into the unknown?¡± ¡ª-- He¡¯d had much more experience reading pings than he had creating them, so Nero shouldn¡¯t have been surprised when things didn¡¯t progress as smoothly as he¡¯d hoped they would. To: Ms. Natalie Keening From: Me I¡¯d first like to express a common phrase thanking you for your support. Think about that time we were in the same place together and you said a bunch of stuff about how your life sucked so you decided to follow me. Then there was that shared experience we had or something. Now you think that I care and have a personal connection with you. In the future, make sure to keep problems and issues that I don¡¯t want to worry about away from me while doing your own thing. You¡¯re the one in charge of personal relations and stuff, so don¡¯t make me look bad. I¡¯m giving you all the responsibility because I don¡¯t want to do it. Remember that you think I care and that your job should be important to you. If you run into any problems, you should figure them out on your own. As Nero had gotten better at ¡®reading¡¯ pings by letting them mingle with his mind, injecting their information directly into his consciousness, he¡¯d instantly done the same thing when he opened up the reply function. Instead of coming out as a well-polished propaganda message, he accidentally created a P.R. nightmare just waiting to happen. The message was composed so quickly, that he almost sent it off without reading it. Luckily, he managed to stop himself in time. Easing back on the mental connection to his link, Nero¡¯s face paled as he read what he¡¯d just written. ¡®OK. Mental note, don¡¯t let the freaky mind computer interpret your intentions,¡¯ he warned himself. Quickly deleting the message, he tried again. This time, he carefully thought about what he wanted to specifically write down, rather than just letting the reply fill itself out based on what he was thinking. To: Ms. Natalie Keening From: Lord Nero Walker Before anything else, I¡¯d like to thank you for your unwavering dedication to The Walker Adventuring Company and all that it stands for. When I first heard your story at the Verena estate, I felt an immediate connection to your struggles. We all strive to break out of the lives we¡¯ve been stuck in, but very few of us have the courage to go through with it. I knew from the moment I met you that you were destined for great things. There isn¡¯t a doubt in my mind that you will lead the wackos to glory, earning both achievements and wealth. Have no fear, the wackos will come to trust you, just as much as I do. That is, as long as you address their concerns promptly and with the wisdom you have shown time and time again. I may be the face of the W.A.C. but you are its heart. Be assertive, be confident, and be in charge. If you ever have questions or need my support, I¡¯ll be there to back you up. However, I doubt someone of your talents will need much help, so instead I¡¯ll just say thank you for all of your hard work and congratulate you for a job well done. Keep working hard, and I¡¯m sure you¡¯ll succeed in your quest for greatness. Nero quickly looked over what he had written, his smile growing wider as he nodded along with each line of bullshit. He had to admit, while it wasn¡¯t super inspiring like some of the crap he¡¯d read back home, it should sufficiently get the job done. It wasn¡¯t like he didn¡¯t like the woman or anything, but her story of wanting to find a sense of relevance in the world was so cliched that he couldn¡¯t summon up the energy to give a shit. Everybody had a story, and when it came down to it, they were all basically the same. Life sucks, and they want something more. Yet, she had stepped up to lead the wackos, and he was more than happy to let her do it. He¡¯d read enough corporate encouragement emails to know how to inspire her to get the job done. Back when he¡¯d first started out, he¡¯d fallen for a few of them himself. You might be reading a stolen copy. Visit Royal Road for the authentic version. He recalled the ill-fated promotional campaign he¡¯d tried when he¡¯d first ascended to the position of store manager. The memory of working for weeks to convince corporate to give him funding for his banners and signs still caused him stomach pains. Then there was that dumbass cell phone costume he¡¯d made that poor kid Kyle wear. He could still remember the smell of sweaty plastic and shame. Shaking off the memory, Nero reread what he¡¯d written one more time before sending it off through the Battle Hub. Hopefully, it would encourage the woman and keep her focused on heading off any problems before he needed to deal with them. Perhaps in the future, he¡¯d give her a bonus or something to make up for dumping everything off on her. Maybe a pizza party meet-and-greet for all the wackos when they get back to Dorchester. Despite how pointless events like that are, they never fail to inspire team-building and cohesion amongst the staff. Plus, pizza was awesome. So, it was a win-win for everybody. Moving on, Nero opened the next ping and carefully typed another few lines of encouragement. He made sure to reference what the person had written, giving the reply a sense of his personal attention. He knew it wasn¡¯t much, but as the leader, it didn¡¯t have to be. From what he could tell, any attention at all he paid to them was much more than they were expecting. Nero knew that he needed to foster a sense of detachment while making sure that they knew he cared about them. After some time, he¡¯d probably end up getting more involved with their lives, but this was a good first step. ¡®Minimal involvement, maximum results,¡¯ he said to himself with a grin. ¡°Are you even listening?¡± Nick asked, annoyed that Nero wasn¡¯t paying attention. Blinking a few times while he mentally stepped back from the connection to his link, Nero asked, ¡°Huh? What?¡± Seeing Nick¡¯s frowning face, Nero immediately went on the attack. ¡°Oh, are you guys done emotionally dissecting me? Can we talk about magic now?¡± Instead of continuing with what he was going to say, Nick began stuttering in offense at Nero¡¯s accusation. Academian Quincy smoothly stepped in to cover for him. ¡°We were just discussing the idea of you seeing a qualified mind healer to study your mind/soul connection. While we don¡¯t think there is an immediate danger of disassociation, we don¡¯t want to prematurely rule out the possibility.¡± Nero¡¯s confusion was evident on his face, and all he could do was stare at them blankly as he tried to work through what they were saying. ¡®These assholes think I need a shrink?¡¯ he concluded angrily. ¡°Absolutely not!¡± he growled. Nick held up his hands as if pleading for Nero to listen to him. ¡°If you had been paying attention, you¡¯d see that our concerns are not without reason. As a soul from -¡± Standing up from the bench, Nero interrupted him before he could get going. ¡°I get it, you¡¯re worried about me, and that¡¯s actually kinda nice. But you don¡¯t have to be. I¡¯m fine. I¡¯ve already taken steps to start creating emotional ties with the wackos and I recognize that I¡¯ve been a little too selfish. However, I don¡¯t think it¡¯s all that surprising that I¡¯ve felt a little out of place since coming here. Everything about you people is weird to me, and I¡¯m still getting my footing,¡± he said calmly, trying to sound like the reasonable one in the conversation. When being confronted with someone who was advocating for him to seek mental help, he knew it was a bad idea to sound too defensive about it. He¡¯d seen enough intervention shows to know that sounding like a lunatic wasn¡¯t conducive to avoiding getting his head shrunk. Academian Quincy and Nick shared one of their looks, probably speaking over a private mental connection they¡¯d set up. Nero couldn¡¯t help but narrow his eyes in annoyance at the feeling of being left out. ¡®I wonder how many times people have been talking behind my back about me right in front of me without me noticing,¡¯ he thought to himself. With a calm voice, Academian Quincy reluctantly said, ¡°I suppose you have a point. As we discussed, we also don¡¯t have a frame of reference for how social interactions worked in your previous world. So, it¡¯s feasible that your tendency to keep yourself emotionally distant isn¡¯t as much of a warning sign as we thought it was.¡± Nick put his hands on his hips and grunted disapprovingly. ¡°If he doesn¡¯t address this now, he¡¯ll never develop the emotional stability to join a spell circle,¡± he declared emphatically. Nero suddenly regretted not having paid attention to what they were talking about. ¡°What¡¯s this about spell circles?¡± he asked excitedly. Rolling his eyes, Nick replied, ¡°We were just discussing this right in front of you!¡± Academian Quincy¡¯s smile looked a little strained as he took up the explanation. ¡°Spell circles are made by mages working together to develop and manage a communal spell form.¡± Nero nodded, understanding what the academian was getting at. ¡°Like the shield spells that were protecting the army. I remember struggling to join my essence field to the people powering it.¡± ¡°Exactly,¡± replied Academian Quincy. Nick still looked pissed but was unable to stop himself from starting his lecture. ¡°That¡¯s correct. From what I witnessed, I could see that you don¡¯t have sufficient control of your essence field to sublimate it into a greater whole. Spell circles require you to manually resonate your emotional state and identity in order to achieve synchronization with the mages around you. Together, you can cast and maintain a level of magic that would be impossible on your own.¡± Nero nodded in agreement, stating, ¡°Yeah, I already figured all that out. It¡¯s like choosing to join a monster mob, becoming one of the many. It felt too weird, and I didn¡¯t like how it was messing with my mind.¡± ¡°It¡¯s an important skill for a war mage,¡± Nick admonished quickly. Waving his hand in dismissal, Nero replied, ¡°I¡¯m not saying it isn¡¯t. I¡¯m just not interested in it at the moment. There are much more important things we could be working on.¡± Academian Quincy interrupted the burgeoning argument with his curiosity. ¡°Like what?¡± he asked. Nero smiled up at the man and said, ¡°Like more complicated spell forms. Or different essence streams that I haven¡¯t worked with yet. My repertoire is still pretty basic, and I need to see more examples of different spells if I hope to develop anything more complicated than simple stuff that I¡¯ve already figured out. Also, stuff like teleportation and other things I can do with my collected essence. You know¡­ the basics.¡± Interested, Academian Quincy asked, ¡°What do you mean by collected essence?¡± Nero paused for a moment to try and remember whether that was a term he¡¯d come up with himself or if he¡¯d heard it somewhere. After shrugging to himself when he decided it didn¡¯t matter, Nero replied, ¡°It¡¯s what I call the essence that I pull in to fuel my mage armor. I figured out that it could also fuel my spells if I specifically tie them to it. It¡¯s how I was able to carry my spell forms with me as I ran around the kobald encampment causing mischief.¡± Academian Quincy sputtered a very out-of-character laugh. ¡°Mischief? You call that mischief?¡± Nick, however, didn¡¯t let himself get distracted. ¡°So, you managed to figure out how to tether spells to your essence shield on your own? That¡¯s remarkable! Did you also manage to solve the assimilation and conservation problem? I¡¯ve read that most novice war mages struggle with that.¡± Nero didn¡¯t exactly know what the ¡®assimilation and conservation¡¯ problem was, but he could take a guess. ¡°It wasn¡¯t too difficult, I just had to manually refill the essence bubble I was carrying around. It would be easier if I could figure out a way to have my collected essence automatically feed off the ether on its own, but I¡¯m not sure how to make it do that.¡± From the look on Academian Quincy¡¯s face, Nero wondered if the man¡¯s brain was overheating. If it weren¡¯t for the translation magic of the world picking up the slack, Nero had no doubt that the man wouldn¡¯t have any idea what Nero was talking about. Nick, on the other hand, had long since grown used to Nero making up his own terms and kept up with the explanation without any problems. Rubbing his chin in thought, Nick replied, ¡°Well, I¡¯m not sure if what you''re suggesting is even possible. The entire point of an essence shield is to isolate the essence you¡¯ve taken under your control from the ambient essence flows in the ether. Connecting your personal flows with the ether would result in a metaphysical contradiction.¡± Nero frowned in thought, somewhat understanding what Nick was saying. Yet, he found himself unable to accept such an absolute when it came to something like magic. The entire point of magic was its potential achievement of the impossible. With a little thought and some effort, he was more than confident he¡¯d figure it out. Changing the subject, Nero said, ¡°Well, it was just a thought. Instead of that, how about you guys show me some spells I¡¯ve never seen? I was promised some magic training, and all you two have done since we got out here is ask me questions. I¡¯m not the one who¡¯s supposed to be leading these lessons, oh-great-mages-of-Oglivarch!¡± While Academian Quincy looked somewhat offended, Nick laughed out loud at Nero¡¯s ribbing. With a smile on his face, Nick replied, ¡°Well, if you didn¡¯t keep doing things that were so outside of our abilities, we wouldn¡¯t have to ask for any explanations. It¡¯s rather difficult to teach a pupil who is both simultaneously more advanced than us and so uninformed.¡± Nero chuckled along with him, unable to argue with the backhanded praise. ¡°Yeah, I¡¯m an idiot savant, sue me. Can we move it along now?¡± Academian Quincy¡¯s eyes danced in delight as he whispered to himself, ¡°Idiot savant! A person who is both naturally skilled and clueless. What an interesting concept!¡± Nero heard the academian¡¯s muttered nonsense. While that was exactly what Nero had meant when he¡¯d said it, he knew that wasn¡¯t what an ¡®idiot savant¡¯ actually was. However, considering the developmental disorders usually associated with the phenomenon, and the frankly uncomfortable conversations needed to clarify what he¡¯d meant, he decided to let the man¡¯s interpretation stand. Besides, Nero doubted he¡¯d ever use the term for anything other than that particular interpretation of the definition anyway. Having a thought, Nero looked over at Academian Quincy and asked, ¡°Hey, if I were to tell you that your hat looks ¡®gay¡¯, what do you think ¡®gay¡¯ means?¡± Academian Quincy¡¯s face scrunched in confusion before replying, ¡°Well, doesn¡¯t ¡®gay¡¯ in this context mean a social failure of fashion choice? Or in other words, ¡®lame¡¯?¡± Glancing up at the floating light hovering over Academian Quincy¡¯s hat, Nero couldn¡¯t stop himself from chuckling. ¡°Yeah, that¡¯s what it means. Just checking to see how the world translated it. Don¡¯t worry about it.¡± Nero was once again amazed at how the world chose to translate what he meant to say, rather than what he actually said. The social context and history of the words he was using didn¡¯t seem to be passed along unless he meant them to be. While it successfully eliminated a lot of the subjectively perceived insults that ended up causing friction in his old world, he couldn¡¯t help but feel a little remorseful that he would never again get chewed out for poorly choosing his words. Letting the subject drop, Nero returned to what he¡¯d wanted to talk about since they¡¯d arrived¡­ magic. ¡°So, are you guys gonna show me some new spell forms, or am I going to go back to my tent and read?¡± he asked cheekily. Chapter 218 - Respect is earned. Ambassador Ironwick stood directly in front of the teleportation room receiving area with a pronounced frown on his face. He hadn¡¯t so much as twitched since he¡¯d arrived. If it weren¡¯t for the slow, grumbling sound of his breath, which inexplicably carried throughout the room, he could easily be confused with a dwarf-shaped statue made in his likeness. The Hennings teleportation team monitoring the equipment didn¡¯t dare breathe a word, already having been informed of the ambassador¡¯s fiery temper. Instead of speaking out loud, they were currently relying on their links for communication. As a result, there was no warning given when the teleportation array activated. Even in the face of the alarmingly bright golden light, the ambassador¡¯s expression didn¡¯t change at all. Aside from his pupils¡¯ involuntary reaction, he remained steadfastly in place. When the light died down, four robed figures could be seen standing in a row behind a fully armored dwarf carrying an axe as tall as he was with the blade resting over his shoulder. For the first time since he¡¯d arrived, Ambassador Ironwick spoke. His voice resembled the sound of cracking granite. ¡°So they decided to send you, did they? Well, I suppose you¡¯re about as well-liked at the moment as I am, so I shouldn¡¯t be surprised,¡± he growled unhappily. The armored dwarf blinked away the after-effects of the odd human technology, reasserting his connection to the ground under his feet. After a second or two, he got his bearings, focusing on the ambassador standing not ten feet in front of him. His expression adopting a scowl, the armored dwarf replied, ¡°Don¡¯t get all high and mighty with me, General Ironwick! I¡¯m not the slagging idiot who decided to upend two years of careful preparation because he couldn¡¯t put up with living among the humans!¡± Trembling in rage, Ironwick shouted, ¡°That¡¯s an infernal lie! Who told you that?!?¡± Walking forward to step off the astra-teleportation platform, the armored dwarf grinned at the sight of Ironwick losing his composure. Using the hand not carrying his axe to wave away the question, he replied, ¡°Let¡¯s just get this over with. We need to seal the agreement with the humans and get these rune mages to our new mountain as soon as possible¡­ We¡¯ve got kobalds to kill!¡± The ambassador¡¯s eyes widened in surprise while his taught fists weakened until his hands unclenched. ¡°Already? But what about the preparations for the immigration? And who¡¯s army will we be using? Why wasn¡¯t I asked about any of this?¡± he stuttered. The armored dwarf stood directly in front of the ambassador, his presence pressing down on the old dwarf. With a wry grin on his face, he declared, ¡°You weren¡¯t consulted, because your opinion no longer matters. The kings believed they had years to prepare for setting up a colony, but instead, they¡¯re facing a war. Rather than let you continue to bungle things, they sent me to clean up your mess. Now, any other pointless questions? Or can we go and claim my new mountain?¡± Ambassador Ironwick¡¯s jaw firmed under the constant barrage of insults, his inner fire reigniting itself in the face of the challenge. Narrowing his eyes, Ironwick asked, ¡°Do you even know anything about the mountain I chose for our people? It¡¯s already abandoned, the kobalds you¡¯re so interested in killing aren¡¯t even there. They¡¯re in the mountain adjacent to the human city, Dorchester.¡± Bursting into laughter, the armored dwarf replied, ¡°Of course I know that! We¡¯ve had priests scrying the region from the moment we found out about your idiocy. Everything¡¯s already been decided, no thanks to you. I¡¯ll be leading my forces to help the humans clear out the threat while my clan makes our new home fit for dwarven living.¡± Off balance again, Ironwick muttered, ¡°Wait? You? You¡¯re going to be the new king? Why would they pick you?¡± Looking at Ironwick like he was an idiot, the armored dwarf replied, ¡°Obviously because they wanted me out of their lands and out of their beards. They needed someone who could lead a new dwarven city and that someone also had to know how to fight. Who else would they pick? You? Try to think things through before you speak, you sound like an idiot when you don¡¯t.¡± Growling, Ironwick stepped forward, practically bumping heads with the armored dwarf. Shouting into his face, he yelled, ¡°Your clan is disgraced because you ran from a fight. You aren¡¯t fit to lead anything, let alone a city! You¡¯re a coward and fallen king, you¡¯ve no right to BE here!¡± The armored dwarf¡¯s grin didn¡¯t falter in the face of Ironwick¡¯s wrath. Keeping the same lighthearted tone he¡¯d used since he¡¯d arrived, he replied, ¡°That may be what you think. They may be what the other kings think. But I, Mathros Mithrilstrike, know who I am.¡± Firming his shoulders and widening his stance, the armored dwarf let the bottom half of his 4 ft. tall axe slide through his fingers to hit the floor with a bang. His presence unfurling into the room, the ether warping around him, he declared in a firm and unyielding voice, ¡°I am and always will be a king. I am the protector of my clan and a proud and noble dwarf. I will lead my people into their new city. One which you foolishly chose right next to a kobald city with multiple portals already in place. Aye, it¡¯s true that the mountain you chose is not currently under threat of kobalds. But I¡¯d be a pretty poor king if I ignored a threat growing in the same range as my home.¡± Ambassador Ironwick unconsciously took a step back, before straightening his back in defiance of Mithrilstrike¡¯s pressure. ¡°So they gave you this city to get you out of dwarven lands and hope you will die without their support. I suppose they won¡¯t be sending any troops or supplies other than what your clan can bring on its own. For what it¡¯s worth, I didn¡¯t know about the portals. The humans didn¡¯t report anything about them. I¡­ I didn¡¯t know. I¡¯m sorry.¡± Despite being nearly the same height, Mathros Mithrilstrike seemed to look down on the ambassador, former general Ironwick, as he said softly, ¡°None of that matters now. My clan has a chance for a new life under a new mountain. Rest assured that no slimy stinking kobalds are going to stand in my way. They¡¯ll die, my clan will live. That¡¯s all there is to it. So, you can either beg King Shimmershield to release you from your duties and join me, or you can stay here and play ambassador with the humans. Either way, you¡¯re going to take me to this human king and GET ME MY MOUNTAIN!¡± By the time Mathros Mithrilstrike was finished speaking, his voice was thundering about the room, shaking the very walls with its strength. Standing there with his beard blown back over both his shoulders, Ambassador Ironwick stood frozen in shock at the barely contained power coming off the dwarven king in waves. Unconsciously gulping to rewet his parched throat, Ambassador Ironwick replied, ¡°Aye, King Mithrilstrike. That¡¯s what I¡¯ll do¡­¡± ¡ª-- Nick, having given up on getting Nero to discuss anything other than magic, replied, ¡°Fine. Let¡¯s start with something simple.¡± Turning toward the center of the training circle they were standing around, Nick raised his hand and began carving a spell form into the ether. Nero, fully utilizing his rapidly developing essence field, watched closely. He could feel that Nick wasn¡¯t simply carving the spell form, he was also somehow imbuing his essence with the intent to deliberately ¡®show¡¯ Nero what he was doing. It was an odd feeling to both ¡®see¡¯ and ¡®feel¡¯ Nick¡¯s essence imparting his will on reality. While Nero had seen this type of technique being done before, he¡¯d never been able to ¡®see¡¯ the spells being formed so clearly. To him, it was like watching ink flowing out of pen over an invisible page. Even the subtle nuances he would have missed before were now clear to him. He really did find magic fascinating. While Nero was enthralled with what he was seeing, Nick¡¯s voice took on the familiar lecturing tone Nero had gotten used to hearing. ¡°Now, first you must make sure you fully encapsulate my spell form with your essence field. Try and ¡®feel¡¯ what I¡¯m doing. If you recall how you learned the elemental wheel spells, you shouldn¡¯t have any problems getting the general concept down rather quickly. From there, I¡¯ll draw out the spell form on the ground, just as Specialist Howard did when he trained you. If you¡¯re careful, you should be able to start trying it on your own. Now, before we get to that, this particular spell form is¡­¡± While Nero half-listened to his friend, his attention was focused on watching Nick¡¯s essence form several familiar patterns in the ether, along with some others he didn¡¯t quite yet fully understand. Nevertheless, by the time Nick had completed the spell form, Nero was pretty sure he¡¯d figured out what the spell form would do when activated. From what he could tell, it was a basic ¡®frost spear¡¯ variant, mostly normal but with an additional component mixed in that he vaguely recognized. Several of the unknown elements he could see reminded him of the sections he¡¯d used to make his ¡®sticky¡¯ spells. This story has been taken without authorization. Report any sightings. At a guess, Nero thought the extra spell bits probably added a freezing effect to the target, either causing it to lose heat or more accurately add cold. He wasn¡¯t too proud to admit that he still didn¡¯t fully understand the temperature essences, but he knew from experience that he didn¡¯t need to as long as he got the general idea. ¡°Alright, I got it,¡± he said before carving into the ether a copy of the spell form. Nick paused his lecture in surprise, stuttering as Nero slowly started carving. ¡°Already? I haven¡¯t even shown you a written example of the spell form. Even with me helping you see the shape, you shouldn¡¯t be able to see the spell form itself. Has your ability progressed to the point where you can actually ¡®see¡¯ the spell forms taking shape? That¡¯s quite impressive!¡± he said excitedly. Nero¡¯s attention was focused on his spell form, so he hadn¡¯t bothered looking over at Nick. Therefore, he unfortunately missed the eager and slightly deranged look on the man¡¯s face. ¡°Well, no¡­ or yes¡­ I mean, I¡¯ve always been able to see how other people cast their spells. Usually, some parts are a little fuzzy for the complicated spells, or I have to ballpark some of the shapes. Really simple spells I could always copy, but I¡¯ve always had trouble with the complicated stuff. But lately, I¡¯ve gotten better at isolating the essence streams I¡¯m looking at. Having the opportunity to watch people casting during the fighting definitely helped. Now that I¡¯m standing right next to you, I can easily distinguish your essence from the essence flows floating around it. It¡¯s not all that difficult once you get the hang of it. The hard part is getting a good sense of the individual parts of the spell form. Do either of you happen to have a primer or a list of all the different functions that the essence loops represent? Like a reference book or something?¡± he asked, his full attention still locked on the spell form he was fiddling with in between his hands. Nick and Academian Quincy shared another one of their private looks before Academian Quincy replied, ¡°Yes. There are compendiums for known essence arrangments. They are often used in spell creation experiments and for enchantments. However, there is still a great deal to learn before you can apply them to existing spells. Those essence arrangements are conceptual applications of reality that need to be carefully adjusted to the spell form. They are recorded and logged by machines capable of observing the underlying structures that make up the material plane. You can¡¯t just arrange them however you like and expect a spell to work as you intended.¡± Nero, still not paying too much attention, replied, ¡°Yeah, I noticed that too. Back during the fighting, when I was mixing together the pieces of the different spells I¡¯d learned, I kept having the spell forms fracturing and refusing to snap together. It was a real pain in the ass, and it took a while before I figured out how to feel out what I needed to change in order to get them to cooperate with me.¡± Academian Quincy looked over at Nick and muttered, ¡°Snap together?¡± Nick on the other hand sounded exasperated, or more accurately¡­ spiritually defeated. ¡°Of course you did. Well, let¡¯s set that topic aside for now. How about you try and activate the spell form? However, before you do, make sure that -¡± Without waiting, Nero infused some more center into the spell form, activating it. He smiled widely as the spell sucked in several familiar essences from the ether. He never got tired of seeing magic do its thing. Interestingly, he could feel both Nick¡¯s and Academian Quincy¡¯s essence fields interacting with the flows. It was like they were both there, but not in any way interfering with what he was doing. Nero couldn¡¯t help but wonder what the difference was between now and when they were in an active combat zone. If their influence wasn¡¯t a problem when they were training, then why was it such an issue during a fight? He understood the concept of layered essence fields, control zones, and how the ¡®strength¡¯ of the mage affected his ability to control the flows, but he didn¡¯t understand why that¡¯s the way it worked. To him, it was like understanding how hot air balloons stay up in the air due to the variations of air density as a result of heat, but not understanding how someone could possibly steer the damn thing. It just didn¡¯t make sense beyond, ¡®that¡¯s just the way it is¡¯. Lost in his thoughts, Nero watched as a small spike of ice emerged from nothingness and came into being. The moment the creation process finished, the foot-long spike launched itself at the ground like it had been shot from a potato gun. As he¡¯d expected, the moment it hit the well-packed dirt the surrounding area¡¯s temperature dropped drastically. Through his essence field, Nero watched with interest as the essence altered the material world around him. While the ice spike and the essence flows seemed illusionary, the resulting change in temperature was most definitely not. ¡®This must be another example of environmental effects in action. If the essence from the spell had been stopped by someone¡¯s essence field before it could influence reality, then the cold effect wouldn¡¯t have happened at all. And if that¡¯s true, then it might be possible to surround someone with spells radiating cold until the temperature around them dropped to dangerous levels, thereby bypassing their essence field¡¯s natural resistance?¡¯ he thought to himself. Nick coughed lightly, playing off how annoyed he was at how quickly Nero had learned his spell. ¡°Yes, it seems you¡¯ve figured it out. Like the standard group of spells from the elemental wheel, this another example of a tier-one spell. The spell form is a hybrid spell utilizing features from several variations of the elemental wheel spells, combining both temperature, water, and earth forms to-¡± ¡°Right, I see that,¡± Nero said quickly. ¡°But what about some tier-two spells? Are those the ones that Specialist Howie was using? You know, the ones that looked like 3-dimensional puzzles?¡± Academian Quincy chuckled at Nero¡¯s deliberate mispronunciation of Specialist Howard¡¯s name. Nick replied, ¡°Yes. Spell forms become more complicated as you move up in the tiers. In order to achieve more varied spell effects, more essence structures are needed to be balanced into the spell form. As an example, take a look at this tier-two spell form, a relatively simple tier-two ¡®fireball¡¯. Watch closely, and you¡¯ll recognize a lot of familiar elements. Although in this case, I doubt you¡¯ll actually be able to ¡®see¡¯ anything. But, don¡¯t be discouraged, you should still be able to get a general sense of the elements involved.¡± Nero did as instructed, carefully watching how Nick carved the spell form into the ether. Just as the man had said, Nero could see several parts that had commonalities with the fire spells he already knew. What he found most interesting however was how the spell form seemed to wrap around itself, interacting with the layers underneath what Nick was carving. By the time Nick was done, Nero could only describe the spell form as a ball of yarn, or a rolled-up image ready for a trash bin. Had he not witnessed the spell form¡¯s creation process, he doubted he¡¯d be able to interpret what he was seeing. Shaking his head in defeat, Nero asked, ¡°I¡¯m sorry, I missed too much of it. Can you do it again?¡± Surprised, Nick asked, ¡°Wait, you can still see the actual essence patterns, not just recognize the shape? Aren¡¯t they overlapping and interfering with each other?¡± Nero looked over at Nick and replied, ¡°Yeah, I can still see them, kind of. It¡¯s just all tangled up. How do people usually learn them?¡± Academian Quincy chimed in, ¡°Usually, a mage will start with a written description of the spell form. For tier-one spells, they will memorize the theoretical form of the spell before carefully copying it into the ether. From there, they will have to meditate on the various elements that make up the spell form, thoroughly understanding each section and tailoring it to their personal understanding of the required essence flows. For more complicated spells, like ones utilizing multiple essence flows that they don¡¯t yet understand, the mage will need to practice with the spell form until it activates on its own. There is, of course, an element of trial and error involved as the understanding of essence flows is not a simple matter. Finally, the spell form becomes ingrained in their mind, allowing the mage to fully comprehend and apply the spell form and subsequently cast the spell.¡± Nick eagerly took up the next step of the explanation. ¡°For tier-two spells, it¡¯s a much more complicated process. Typically, mages learn them in sections before ultimately combining them into a workable spell form. It¡¯s not easy, and I myself have only learned a few.¡± Academian Quincy voiced his admiration for the budding mage beside him. ¡°That¡¯s more than most mages at your level. You should be proud that you¡¯ve been able to incorporate that tier of spells into your understanding of the ether. Especially considering the environment you¡¯ve been living in.¡± Nero just barely stopped himself from mocking his good friend for blushing at Academian Quincy¡¯s praise. ¡®Perhaps I really am growing as a person,¡¯ he sarcastically congratulated himself. Coughing lightly to move the conversation along, Nick continued, ¡°Well, regardless, tier-two spells require a great deal more effort than tier-ones. While they are still written out in spell tomes in two dimensions, there are annotations on the page that show you the rotational angle that needs to be applied when carving them out in the ether. A lot more guesswork is involved, along with a great deal more danger. Mishandled tier-two spell forms can cause a significant backlash during training if you aren¡¯t careful. Learning them is not something a low-level mage should attempt.¡± Nero nodded, as he could tell they wouldn¡¯t be as easy as just writing out what he was seeing. However, he also didn¡¯t think it would be all that difficult to learn how to do it. When it came down to it, they were just 3-dimensional models. As far as he was concerned, rather than trying to learn how to read the blueprints, he should just study the completed product and copy that directly. ¡°Alright, I get it. Tier-two spells are tricky. How about you show it to me again, and this time carve it slowly,¡± he said while crossing his arms and concentrating on the area in front of Nick with every bit of his focus. During the fighting, Nero had seen the kind of destruction Specialist Howie had wrought among the kobalds and that was without the benefit of his cheat-like ability to borrow power from the soul stuff in the ether. If he were to be able to learn a few tier-two spells, and then fuel them with souls, Nero was sure to raise his combat level further into the realms of absurdity. Of course, stable spell forms would also probably be much less likely to cause damage to the essence flows in the ether, so Jennings wouldn¡¯t have to clean up after him again¡­ hopefully¡­ possibly. Chapter 219 - Not one of us. Academian Quincy stood off to the side, carefully observing as Lord Verena struggled to teach Lord Walker magic. While both student and teacher were enthusiastic and engaged in the process, it didn¡¯t seem to make their progress any easier. Rubbing his chin in thought, Academian Quincy tried to analyze the situation objectively. Unfortunately, his efforts weren¡¯t amounting to much. Using the connection he was maintaining through the communication orb in his pocket, He said, ¡°Everyone, I¡¯m going to need to disconnect for a while.¡± Scholar Idrius, who was currently relaying the situation going on with House Walker¡¯s adherents replied, ¡°Why? What¡¯s wrong?¡± He could feel the bundled memory feeds he was receiving from the evaluators all pause, as they stopped transmitting and turned their full attention to him. ¡°Nothing¡¯s wrong. I just want to pay a little more attention to Lord Walker¡¯s training. I¡¯m having a little trouble understanding what I¡¯m looking at. I don¡¯t want any distractions at the moment,¡± he replied. Their interest and desire for more information was clear to him through the connection they currently shared, but he didn¡¯t know how to explain what he was feeling, so he changed the subject. ¡°Idrius, you can continue to monitor the social aspects of Lord Walker¡¯s growing influence. The rest of you, continue to follow Yarbarrow¡¯s lead. We can¡¯t allow for local interests to interfere in Lord Walker¡¯s growth. When I figure this out, I¡¯ll reinstate the connection. Although, if you need me, don¡¯t hesitate to contact me,¡± he ordered tersely before cutting off his connection. Feeling the parts of his mind that had been set aside for the connection return to his main consciousness, he rolled his shoulders in relief. While it wasn¡¯t necessarily difficult to maintain such a deep connection, doing it for prolonged periods of time was annoying. Turning his full attention back to Lords Walker and Verena, Academian Quincy narrowed his eyes and focused. For some reason, he felt that he needed to understand what was wrong with what he was seeing. Looking at the situation logically, Lord Verena was following the standard model for teaching a young mage spell forms. Granted, the speed at which they were covering spells was drastically sped up, but that didn¡¯t feel like the main issue. It was definitely something else. Lord Walker wasn¡¯t struggling to understand or connect with the essence flows. He wasn¡¯t having trouble remembering or conceptualizing the essence structures that made up the spell forms. He wasn¡¯t even having trouble with his ethereal connection. So what was it? Watching carefully as Lord Walker fired off an ¡®uneven ground¡¯ spell, he had to admit the young man was a once-in-a-millennium talent. With such little center being provided, the entire training circle was affected. The ground rose and sank randomly, turning the terrain into divots and eddies that would make any soldier groan in annoyance. ¡°OK, I guess I can understand what you¡¯re saying. But why do I have to mentally connect with the ground in the area before I cast it? Can¡¯t I just think about where I want it to be and let her rip?¡± Lord Walker asked, his tone full of questions. Waving his arms widely, Lord Verena responded, ¡°Because that¡¯s how you ensure that your spell works as intended. If you don¡¯t carefully target your spell, then the ambient essence fields of whomever you''re targeting will interfere with your construct creation.¡± Lord Walker replied quickly, ¡°OK. But why? I mean, I¡¯m not actually targeting them, so their essence fields shouldn¡¯t get in the way, right? It¡¯s not like their essence fields are mingling with the ground under their feet. Or at least I don¡¯t think they are¡­ wait¡­ are they?¡± Abruptly rounding on Lord Verana, Lord Walker continued, ¡°Hold up! If I can arbitrarily designate what I¡¯m targeting, then why can¡¯t I just use a spell to create an odorless but deadly gas in a bubble around people¡¯s heads? Like, if interacting with physical objects works the way you say it does, then it should be possible, shouldn¡¯t it?¡± Lord Verena¡¯s face was contorted into a frown, his patience warring with his professionalism. The man¡¯s emotions seemed to vacillate between pride at how quickly Lord Walker was learning, annoyance at how difficult it was to get the points he was trying to make across, and intrigue at how Lord Walker¡¯s mind seemed to work. Academian Quincy had never seen a teacher struggling so much to get through to their student. Typically, a learning mage may have trouble with certain aspects of a spell, but never had he seen someone so naturally gifted have so much difficulty understanding the very spells they were successfully casting. His brain suddenly stuttered to a stop, and he realized what he¡¯d been missing. Lord Walker was successfully casting these spells. That shouldn¡¯t be possible if he didn¡¯t thoroughly understand them. It was a fundamental aspect of nature. You couldn¡¯t create a representation of reality without first understanding it. That was not a matter of debate or even something that had ever been questioned. Stepping forward to interject himself into the conversation, Academian Quincy eagerly asked, ¡°Lord Walker, a moment if you will? When you cast a spell, what exactly are you thinking about?¡± Both Lord Verena and Lord Walker turned in surprise, each with a questioning look on their face. Having gotten used to answering and doing things he didn¡¯t fully understand, Lord Walker replied without hesitation, ¡°Well, first I think about connecting my center to where I want to put the spell form, then I think about what the spell form is supposed to look like when it''s completed, then I think about letting it suck in whatever essence it needs, before finally thinking about where I want the spell to go off. You know, the standard spell creation process.¡± On to something, Academian Quincy replied, ¡°You don¡¯t consider the resulting construct you are intending to make, or the specific types of essence your spell form is collecting?¡± Lord Walker shook his head. ¡°Not really. Usually, I just focus on the spell form and let the rest of that stuff take care of itself. I used to do all that when I was manually moving the essence around to get the effect I wanted, but with spell forms, it''s much simpler. Why?¡± Academian Quincy didn¡¯t know how to respond. ¡®That¡­ That¡¯s not how magic works¡­¡¯ he thought to himself helplessly. ¡ª-- Nero returned to the ridiculously large tent that had been set aside for him and his wackos. He¡¯d left Nick and Quincy back at the training field. When he¡¯d left, they had been in a deep discussion about the intricacies of magic. He needed a break. He¡¯d been practicing magic since he¡¯d woken up, and he needed some time to think through what he had learned¡­ or unlearned¡­ or been told. Too much of what Nick had said didn¡¯t make any sense to him. Nodding politely to the guards who snapped to attention as he walked through the front entrance, Nero made sure to keep the frown off his face. It was both weird and kinda nice being able to ¡®feel¡¯ how much they respected him. While he didn¡¯t doubt there was some kind of essence technique that allowed for people to hide their feelings, he doubted it would be any easier than the one he¡¯d learned to hide his essence trail. This world was different in so many little ways that it added up to a completely different social structure. Just imagining what it would have been like in his old world if the employees couldn¡¯t hide their disdain for their superiors was enough to blow his mind. He knew not everyone necessarily ¡®senses¡¯ things the way he does, but the subconscious effect was still there even if people didn¡¯t realize it. The better in tune he got with his essence field, the more he was able to see the subtle differences he had been missing. Fundamentally, people here weren¡¯t all that different from the ones back home, but they¡¯d developed in a completely different environment, and as a result, they thought differently. This tale has been unlawfully lifted from Royal Road. If you spot it on Amazon, please report it. They were a lot more socially conscious and therefore more concerned with the greater good. They weren¡¯t exactly kinder or more moral, but they were more ¡®aware¡¯. That really was the only way he could explain it. Even he¡¯d caught himself considering the consequences of his actions more since he¡¯d started feeling everyone¡¯s state of mind projecting itself out into the world. It was like when he¡¯d been a kid, and an adult had asked him how he would feel if someone else did what he did to him. Back in his old world, he¡¯d had to think about it. But here, it was right there for him to see. He couldn¡¯t ignore it. When he acted like a dick, he could ¡®feel¡¯ the other person¡¯s essence field recoiling. There was simply no way he could miss it now that he could ¡®see¡¯ it. Walking through the common room toward the buffet table which had been permanently set up, Nero started filling up a plate with his late lunch. Along the way, he let his senses flow out around him, tasting the sea of personalities that were present in the room. The few people who were paying attention or talking about him were all radiating a feeling of emotional warmth and acceptance. It was like being surrounded by Carebears or something. Taking a seat at one of the empty tables, Nero absently started eating while glancing around the room. These were his people¡­ and the fact that he could no longer go about his day without being confronted by that fact was just weird. Shaking his head in defeat, he set that train of thought aside for the moment and went back to thinking about magic. While he hadn¡¯t exactly understood everything that Quincy and Nick had been going on about, he¡¯d understood enough to know that how they looked at the world was entirely different than how he did. They saw magic as a type of personal creation¡­ like they were gods or something. To cast magic, they used their ¡®center¡¯ like it was their very being. For them, it required dedication and study¡­ years of it. He¡¯d read about how mages learned magic and had mistakenly thought they were just idiots. Now, he knew differently. It was him¡­ he was the weird one. Where they had to painstakingly connect with the essence flows, learning all about them through meditation and effort, he could just guide them to where he wanted them to go. It was no wonder they found his ability to manipulate the essence flows so interesting¡­ it was entirely outside of their abilities. It was like that old story about the guy with eyes in a land without sight. He was just built differently. Academian Quincy had chalked it up to his unusual soul, while Nick thought it was some kind of inherent ability. Either way, they had both agreed it was exciting. Nero, however, didn¡¯t feel all that pleased about it. Earlier in the day when Quincy had hinted at him being something other than human, that had hit Nero right in the feels. It had really stuck with him. Despite Nick¡¯s assurance and referenced data which proved his identity, Nero was unable to forget that he was still body-jacking a corpse. He hadn¡¯t wanted to say anything for fear of what they would think of him, but he honestly thought his ¡®ability¡¯ was due to him not being part of the local essence cycle. Apparently, they¡¯d both forgotten about the fact that everything here was connected. But, he hadn¡¯t. In a very real way, he was a 3rd party player interjecting himself into their lives. While he could ¡®feel¡¯ like he was connected to them through their essence fields and their emotions, he wasn¡¯t really one of them. While he may not have realized it, on some level he¡¯d probably always known that¡¯s how it was. Chewing on his food, he looked around at the 10 or so wackos chattering away on their break, feeling a sense of disconnect with them. In many ways, he was like one of the magic constructs that was both part of the world and not. His presence was fueled by his desire to be here, and it was overwriting the will of the world. It was a heavy responsibility and one he¡¯d been ignoring. How had the story of Dorchester supposed to have gone if he hadn¡¯t been here to interfere? Would the Dorchen noble war have turned out differently? Were the Cosgrave heirs always supposed to have died? Was there some kind of ethereal force of fate he¡¯d been disrupting? Had him being here caused the essence density to change and the kobalds to climb out of their holes? Was it all his fault, or had he saved everyone from their fate? Was it possible for him to ever know? Scowling at the heavy thoughts he was having, Nero angrily picked up his plate and tossed it in the pile with the dirty dishes. Taking along the canteen he¡¯d filled up with some fruit juice, he went off to find a place without anyone around so he could think. ¡®This isn¡¯t me. I¡¯m not some emo-obsessed teenager obsessed with contemplating his place in the world. So, I¡¯m different, so what? I¡¯m still me. I¡¯m still awesome. Now I¡¯ve got people placing their faith in me, big deal. I ran a moderately successful cell phone store for years, I can handle that,¡¯ he told himself stubbornly. Stomping through the encampment, he ignored the feeling of people¡¯s attention on him. The last thing he wanted to deal with right now was people thanking him for what he¡¯d done during the battle. Eventually, he arrived at an area currently filled with people watching some fights. The general sense of attention was on the training circle which they¡¯d turned into an arena. The crowd even had shields set up to contain the chaos. His presence went entirely unnoticed. Taking a deep breath, he luxuriated in the blessed anonymity. Suddenly he felt an odd ripple through the ether which had him instinctively turning around to see what was happening. Almost like he was peeking behind a curtain, he saw a flash of gold light resolving itself into a person. It was likely hidden under an illusion and therefore invisible to most people, but he had no trouble seeing it. Locking eyes with Jennings, he almost couldn¡¯t contain his urge to laugh at the surprised look on the old man¡¯s face. Apparently, he hadn¡¯t thought Nero would notice him. With a smirk, Nero asked, ¡°Are you here for a thank you? Cause seriously, I do owe you one for fixing the essence flows that I screwed up. I may have gotten a little carried away with that last spell of mine. Admittedly, I didn¡¯t really think that one through¡­ so, sorry about that.¡± Arch-mage Jennings¡¯ presence seemed to shift, becoming more fully real and now visible to everyone around him. Noticing everyone stepping back along with the looks of recognition on their faces, he said, ¡°Let¡¯s go for a walk, Nero.¡± Just like that, Nero felt the man¡¯s essence reach out to surround him. Stifling the urge to interfere with the process, Nero let it happen. The world twisted and turned before reassembling itself back into something he could comprehend. Finding himself now inside a tastefully appointed room, Nero looked around in appreciation of being back inside Dorchester¡­ or what he assumed was Dorchester based on the ambiance. Wooden walls along with some paintings, familiar overhead essence lighting, and ornate rug-like carpets. If he weren¡¯t in Dorchester, he¡¯d be surprised. Not bothering with being polite, Nero jumped into one of the chairs, sighing in relief at having the chance to enjoy cushioned seats again. Glancing up at Jennings, he said, ¡°Thanks man¡­ Seriously, I needed this.¡± Chuckling, Arch-mage Jennings walked over to sit opposite Nero on another chair. ¡°So, you¡¯ve finally discovered what makes you different from those around you.¡± The arch-mage¡¯s tone wasn¡¯t in the least bit judgmental or accusatory, and what he said certainly wasn¡¯t in the form of a question. Nodding, Nero replied with a weak smile, ¡°Yeah. I don¡¯t think Nick or the others have figured it out yet.¡± Leaning back comfortably in his chair, Arch-mage Jennings replied, ¡°Just to put your mind at ease, I can tell you that you are, in fact, a human. You are not a sociopath, mentally unstable, or in any way outside of the norm. Well, not when it comes to who you are while you¡¯re here that is.¡± Curious, Nero asked, ¡°OK¡­ but what do you mean by that?¡± Smiling gently, the arch-mage replied, ¡°I mean that for all intents and purposes, you are a perfectly normal and average 14-year-old human being. Nothing more, nothing less. However, that is not all that you are. I have always referred to you as an anomaly for a reason. You aren¡¯t supposed to be here. Therefore, you have a unique and valuable perspective from which you view the plane around you.¡± Utterly confused, while somewhat mollified, Nero asked, ¡°So, I¡¯m like an outsider looking in?¡± ¡°That¡¯s a perfectly understandable way of interpreting what I just said, but nonetheless entirely accurate. You¡¯re more accurately both here, and not here. Your soul isn¡¯t a product of this reality, or at least I don¡¯t think it is. Therefore, you¡¯ll never be fully in tune with the essence around you. As a result, you can understand it, recognize it, and use it, but you can never truly join with it. That is both a boon and a curse. For example, you will never be able to achieve godhood. When you reach level 100, reality will reject you. You¡¯ll have to move up the dimensions and leave these planes behind,¡± he said gently as if he were delivering Nero terrible news. Nero looked over at the man in confusion, ¡°Uh¡­ what?¡± Sighing in exasperation, Arch-mage Jennings replied, ¡°I honestly didn¡¯t plan on telling you any of this anytime soon, both because you wouldn¡¯t understand it and because it wasn¡¯t currently relevant but I don¡¯t want you misunderstanding what that academian mistakenly concluded. When a person reaches level 100, they attain unity. While you can¡¯t possibly understand what that means right now, you can just think about it as being perfectly in tune with your body mind, and soul. For people who are a product of this level of existence, that would mean also being perfectly in tune with the universe¡­ all planes of the universe. As a result, they could become gods, merging with reality to create their own plane of existence and influencing those around them. However, it also means that a person could transcend this plane of existence and move up to a higher dimension, being reborn into a higher state of being.¡± Nero listened closely to what the old man was saying, relying heavily on the translation magic to read into what little subtext he could understand. ¡°OK, so it¡¯s like a game where you reach max level and then start the New Game+.¡± Stunned, Arch-mage Jennings¡¯ eyes practically rolled back in his head as his brain struggled to comprehend the concept of what ¡®New Game+¡¯ meant to Nero. After barely a moment, his glare focused on the young man like a laser. ¡°That is an incredibly interesting way to interpret what I¡¯ve just said. Has your previous world mastered dimensional travel?¡± Nero met Arch-mage Jennings¡¯ stare for a few seconds before he could no longer contain himself. Bursting into laughter, he said, ¡°Oh man. Fuck it. Let me tell you about video games and how your world could be described in the context of what I¡¯m familiar with¡­¡± Chapter 220 - The science of gaming. In the common room of House Walker¡¯s tent, Cathleen Averett stood at the head of the table, her steady gaze sweeping across the assembled warriors seated before her. Behind her hung House Walker¡¯s colors, the symbol of their lord watching over the proceedings as if he were there, grinning down on them himself. Seated to her right, former Captain Angleton, now referred to as simply Knight Angleton met her stare with a confident one of his own from his seat. On her left, Natalie Keening, now titled Group Leader Keening, sat stoically in her seat as well. Former assassin and convict Michael Harring was on Group Leader Keening¡¯s right, his smile wide and infectious. Across from him on Knight Angleton¡¯s left was Sholar Idrius, the evaluator team¡¯s representative and demonstration of the crown¡¯s interest in their lord. Further down the table, there were Oscar Hudgins and Nora Falkner among others. Each one was hand-picked by her and the other leaders of House Walker for their dedication and resolve. As a group, they were shaping up nicely. Breaking the silence, Cathleen said, ¡°As you all know, we¡¯ll be returning to Dorchester tomorrow. While our tasks may be many, we are more than equal to them. Each of you has been briefed on what you will need to do, and I have every confidence that you will succeed in your missions. Trust in yourselves and those around you, and together we shall ensure that House Walker¡¯s name echoes throughout history, immortalizing our deeds into legend, and earning our place in the halls of power.¡± The looks of determination on their faces she received in response to her words lit a fire in Cathleen¡¯s heart. While he would never admit it out loud, some of these weak-willed Southerners had some potential. Knight Angleton¡¯s firm voice interrupted her thoughts. ¡°You can count on us. We will not fail in our duties to our lord.¡± Group Leader Keening offered a nod of her own in agreement with him before asking, ¡°How have the arrangements gone with Lady Verena?¡± Still standing, Cathleen glanced over at the woman before pulling out the communication orb she¡¯d borrowed from Lord Verena. ¡°Yes, everything has been arranged. Even if there is no settlement to be had with the council of leadership, House Walker¡¯s finances are enough to support us indefinitely. Our lord¡¯s stake in the arena, along with his various businesses are doing quite well and his estates are being prepared for us.¡± Chiming in, Michael Harring said, ¡°I¡¯ve heard that since the army has pulled out of the wilds, the hunters have been incredibly active. House Walker¡¯s trading posts have been doing a brisk business and the general consensus among those fighting out of the Hunter¡¯s Hall is that Lord Walker is personally discounting supplies in an effort to aid the city¡¯s protectors.¡± Several people spoke up in agreement, making it clear that they¡¯d heard something similar. Cathleen knew that the rumors weren¡¯t technically true, as the essence crystals being funneled through the trading posts were making the young lord rich. However, there was no reason for her to clarify anything. Besides, it was the young lord¡¯s clever business practices that allowed for such goods to be distributed at the lower prices the hunters were seeing. Looking around the table, she nodded in appreciation at the sight of such dedicated warriors, Folding her arms across her chest, she almost smiled. House Walker now had money, soldiers, an estate, and a quest. Things really were looking up. ¡ª-- Having spent the last few hours trying to explain common themes, accepted practices, cultural references, and tropes in general to Ach-mage Jennings, Nero was exhausted. It wasn¡¯t so much the topics or the content they were discussing that had been sapping his strength, it was Jennings¡¯ absurd ¡®logical¡¯ parallels he continually spouted on and on about¡­ they were what was making Nero¡¯s head hurt. Arch-mage Jennings stood before two giant holographic ¡®chalkboards¡¯ he¡¯d whipped up, madly connecting different informational boxes into a complex web with various colored lines. ¡°So, in the arena of tactical games, a singular ¡®player¡¯ is in charge of his troop dispositions only on the macro scale? That makes sense, I suppose. But, what I don¡¯t understand is how your society came up with the idea to copy The Game.¡± Nero was sprawled out in his chair, rubbing his temples as he tried to follow what Jennings was saying. ¡°I don¡¯t know what to tell you, man. Game designers and writers just theorized worlds like yours and then ran with it. They needed some way to represent concepts like magic and stuff so that the games could be balanced. I¡¯m pretty sure you guys have a ¡®Game¡¯ or whatever that is pretty similar to the tactical RPGs I used to play. I¡¯m almost positive I saw some stuff on the Thought Hub about it.¡± Dismissively waving his hand at Nero¡¯s rambling, Jennings replied, ¡°Yes, of course we do! But that¡¯s not the point.¡± Turning to gesture at a particular section of the board behind him, he continued, ¡°This particular concept you spoke of, ¡®heroic units¡¯... Our games don¡¯t have such a clever feature. Not to mention your description of ¡®morale values¡¯ and ¡®unit health¡¯. Our games are merely logical representations of the real world that, before today, I thought were relatively accurate. But, now, I have to admit that we¡¯ve been neglecting several important aspects of warfare.¡± Nero frowned, dropping his hands lazily to the armrests. ¡°You guys included magic and stuff, right? How could you forget something so simple as troop morale? How do you calculate when a unit breaks up or stops fighting? Do you just assume everyone is going to fight to the death? That¡¯s idiotic!¡± Arch-mage Jennings replied quickly, ¡°No, not at all! We simply use a loyalty function to predict what percentage of casualties it would take for a force to give up and retreat. Admittedly, it is merely an analytical representation of historical data sets collected from various battles, but we couldn¡¯t do any better. Until now that is! We never factored into the equation the commanders and their effects on their soldiers'' morale. As you pointed out, the essence field combinatorial effect can easily influence large units of soldiers during a battle. Also, this concept of ¡®heroic units¡¯ casting ¡®buffs¡¯ has some interesting implications concerning troop loyalty and battle prowess¡­¡± Nero watched helplessly as the archmage continued to write haphazardly across the holograms with his glowing finger. Since Nero had introduced the old man to the concept of gaming and subsequently mentioned some parallels he¡¯d noticed, Jennings hadn¡¯t stopped bouncing around like a toddler on a sugar high. For a ridiculously old man, he was surprisingly spry. Of particular interest to Jennings was the concept of unit designations. Nero had pointed out that in most games, melee units were limited to fighting in melee, ranged units at range, etc. While Nero had offhandedly mentioned that it was weird to see such a concept being explained away by how this world¡¯s essence worked, Jennings had taken it as a challenge to then try and find more similarities between Nero¡¯s gaming knowledge and the world around them. The archmage equated center with ¡®mana¡¯, somehow concluding that competent resource management could explain rising mana reserves in regards to center recollection. Gaming conventions concerning XP had obviously been equated to experiences being integrated into a person''s soul. That one even Nero hadn¡¯t disagreed with. However, he had to spend half an hour explaining in detail how there was no way a game back home would give a player XP for anything other than combat. Unfortunately, as the conversation progressed, Jennings forced him through thorough questioning to remember games like Dungeons and Dragons which had ¡®encounter experience¡¯ and numerous other gaming systems that awarded XP for completing quests like deliveries and successful missions. This tale has been pilfered from Royal Road. If found on Amazon, kindly file a report. Nero had been forced to admit that when looked at in the right way, experience in this world did work a lot like the XP systems he was familiar with back home. Annoyingly, the longer their talk went on, the more abstract Jennings¡¯ interpretations became. He¡¯d likened ¡®zones¡¯ and ¡®maps¡¯ to areas of differing density, adamantly ignoring Nero¡¯s repeated attempts at explaining that the comparison was, at best, only partially correct. Over and over, Nero was forcibly backed into a corner, having to reluctantly admit how similar some of the concepts were. It became oddly surreal as he¡¯d spent most of his time since coming to this world reorganizing what he¡¯d learned into terms he could understand, which had been gaming terms. Now, faced with Jennings doing the same thing, he found himself focusing on all the small ways in which the concepts he was familiar with didn¡¯t apply. Nero tried and failed to explain how dungeons weren¡¯t ¡®supposed¡¯ to be places where enemies continuously spawned. To be clear, while they did functionally continually restock themselves, they were created to be story centers that multiple groups could challenge to progress the individual stories they were following. However, words failed him when he tried to explain story progression and what terms like ¡®main character¡¯ actually meant. No matter how hard he tried, he just couldn¡¯t explain to Jennings that in his world there was supposed to be a sense of permanence. Games were merely intended to represent things. They were not, and had never been, intended to accurately describe ANYTHING. They were just stories that were supposed to be enjoyed, not simulations! The archmage, however, couldn¡¯t care less about Nero¡¯s objections. For him, there were simply too many coincidences for him to ignore. Despite Nero¡¯s continued denials, the old man refused to let up. He used his centuries of experience to question Nero about every facet of ¡®gaming culture¡¯, along with fantasy tropes and intellectual properties Nero was familiar with. Nero hadn¡¯t realized how much he actually remembered. Now, as he watched Jennings muttering to himself, slowly trying to work out an accurate mathematical model of an army¡¯s morale, Nero felt nothing but shame and confusion. ¡®How in the hell did I end up having to be the one defending the idea that this world is NOT a game,¡¯ he wondered to himself. Wanting¡­ no, NEEDING this to be over. Nero said, ¡°Listen, man, I get it. Games are cool, and you want to crib what you can and apply it to this world¡¯s favorite pastime. But, seriously, it¡¯s been like hours¡­ haven¡¯t you had enough? Can¡¯t we discuss magic or something?¡± The archmage turned around, an incredulous look on his face. ¡°Nero, don¡¯t you see? It¡¯s like you¡¯ve been training your entire previous life to come to this world. Don¡¯t you realize how incomprehensible and extraordinary that is? Haven¡¯t you wondered whether or not your soul, which had been floating through the spatial layers, specifically CHOSE this world due to your familiarity with these concepts? How have you not at least considered the possibility that all of this¡­ you coming here¡­ your effect on this world¡­ could it not all be for a reason?¡± Nero, still slouched on the couch with his feet propped up on the coffee table, returned the archmage''s intense and excited stare with an unamused glare of his own. ¡°No¡­ I haven¡¯t. Those types of stories are stupid. Even if I CHOSE this world, so what? Would you expect my disembodied soul to go somewhere it DIDN¡¯T recognize? As for the whole fate thing, who cares? Maybe I was completely outside of the time-space continuum and chose this particular time and place carefully so that I could make my mark. Or maybe it was just dumb luck. Either way, worrying about it is pointless. Besides, I have bigger things to worry about. Don¡¯t you think Nick and the others are freaking out by now due to my absence? I need to get back,¡± he said with a tone of helplessness. Unfortunately, the archmage didn¡¯t agree. ¡°No, you really don¡¯t. I¡¯ve already contacted your house and alerted them as to your whereabouts. Don¡¯t worry, I¡¯m keeping an eye on them. You¡¯ll be pleased to know that they have successfully organized your growing army of mercenaries into quite the little force. I believe you¡¯ve chosen your subordinates well,¡± he said, his tone weirdly proud for some reason. Continuing to glare at the clueless old mage, Nero replied, ¡°So, you¡¯re intent on keeping me captive here? Are you going to squeeze every bit of knowledge out of my head like I¡¯m some sort of interdimensional content creator? That¡¯s not cool man¡­ bit a dick move, to be honest.¡± Rolling his eyes, Jennings turned around to return to his board, saying over his shoulder, ¡°Stop being so dramatic.¡± While Nero stewed in silence, Jennings¡¯ hands occasionally flew across the hologram, altering equations and adding notations left and right. As far as Nero could tell, the man was completely and totally absorbed in the process. Feeling a profound sense of unhappiness about how his intentions to mock this world and all of its inhabitants by comparing them to games had turned out, Nero resigned himself to enjoying some snacks while doing a little light reading. For the next few hours, Nero was forced to occasionally answer Jennings¡¯ questions as he tried and failed to understand the subject of ¡®planes¡¯. With having to constantly think about games and fantasy novels from back home, he found himself unable to stop himself from interpreting everything he was learning through the lens of what he was familiar with. It was both helpful and incredibly annoying. He was constantly coming to conclusions that were immediately disproven by the following paragraph he read. Eventually, he noticed an odd peculiarity that he decided to ask Jennings about. ¡°Hey, old man. Have you ever told me the name of this planet? I honestly can¡¯t remember if you did.¡± he asked curiously, somewhat amazed he didn¡¯t already know. The archmage, now having multiplied the number of holograms he was dealing with, turned around to look at Nero with confusion. ¡°What do you mean by name? Why would we name the planet?¡± Nero¡¯s mouth gaped, successfully expressing his confusion. ¡°Well, why wouldn¡¯t you? You named the kingdom, the continent you live on. It only seems natural to name the planet.¡± Arch-mage Jennings placed his hands on his hips and looked up at the ceiling, seemingly deep in thought. ¡°It¡¯s sometimes hard to imagine how you see the world around you. You really do have an odd and interesting perspective. Perhaps some context would help¡­¡± Waving his hand, Jennings moved all the holograms off to the side of the room, stacking them neatly in rows to preserve what he¡¯d written. In their place, he conjured a new hologram, one Nero had seen before¡­ a slowly spinning globe that represented the planet on which he now lived. ¡°This is our planet. We don¡¯t necessarily have a name for it, as we aren¡¯t all that interested in it. Travel to other areas is difficult, and our concerns limit us to the immediate areas around us. We refer to our place in the universe as the material plane. Alongside us, at various other spiritual frequencies are the other planes of existence. In many ways, it¡¯s easier to travel to the other planes than it is to travel to the other continents or surrounding planets in our solar system,¡± he lectured matter of factly. Looking Nero in the eye, he made it clear how serious he was when said, ¡°What you need to concern yourself with is the planes corresponding to our little slice of the material plane.¡± With another wave of his hand, Jennings conjured a pillar of stratified light right next to the globe. From the glaring bright white at the top, the pillar slowly transitioned through gold, green, and brown, until finally ending in a deep and angry red. Highlighting a thin section of green, Jennings said, ¡°This is a rough representation of the upper to lower planes. See this region here, this represents all the material planes that are capable of stabilizing essence enough to create matter. Each one has a world of its own, and that world exists in the same time and space as the own we are currently living on. Now, when there are so many planes so close to us, why would we concern ourselves with naming the planet?¡± Nero sat up in interest, trying to wrap his head around this new information. ¡°So, what you¡¯re saying is, there are a ton of alternate dimensions that are easier to explore than the world around us? That seems¡­ unlikely.¡± Raising an eyebrow imperiously at Nero, Jennings replied, ¡°Oh, really? Have you not realized that the kobalds currently invading come from one of these other material planes? Well, technically one from the elemental sections of the planar map, but nonetheless my point stands.¡± Pointing harshly at the section of the pillar which was still highlighted, Jennings said, ¡°Within this narrow band of reality, there are an infinite number of planes that are filled with dangers. Every time an essence disturbance materializes, a connection to another plane is made. Dungeons and rifts are commonplace, and not all of them lead to fully realized material planes. There are demi-planes, isolated pockets of temporary reality, and even hidden sanctuaries filled with ruins that are constantly popping up all over the kingdom. It takes every bit of humanity¡¯s attention to keep them from overtaking us. As a citizen of Oglivarch, not to mention a member of the human race, you have a responsibility to help us fight for our place in this universe. This is not a reality that is kind to the weak.¡± Nero stared at the ominously glowing pillar in thought. He¡¯d known about the dangers and read about the various threats that could come knocking, but he hadn¡¯t truly understood it until now. ¡®Those kobald sons of bitches really did come here to expand their plane,¡¯ he said to himself. Looking up at the archmage from his cushy position on the oversized chair, he said, ¡°I get it. You don¡¯t have to worry that I¡¯ll fuck off and go exploring. There is plenty of adventure to be had right here.¡± Stealing one of his favorite quotes, he added, ¡°Besides, all my stuff is here. I won¡¯t let anyone mess with Dorchester.¡± Frowning at Nero, Jennings replied, ¡°Not to mention your house and the nearly 150 people who have left their lives behind to follow you.¡± Nero¡¯s grin faded a little before he shrugged and said, ¡°Yeah, of course. Them too.¡± Chapter 221 - Self deception as a coping mechanism. After having a rather interesting discussion with Academian Quincy concerning Nero¡¯s background and its likely effect on his personality, Nick retired to his room to check in with Vera. Leaning back into his chair, he reached out to Dorchester through his communication orb and waited patiently for his wife to use her twinned communication orb to accept the connection. When he finally felt the connection activate, he let himself get lost momentarily in the familiar feelings of his love¡¯s presence. ¡°Hello, my dear. How did your conversation with Ms. Averett go?¡± he asked with a smile. He could feel Vera mentally sighing as she replied, ¡°Everything has been arranged for your return. That woman is both frightfully capable and utterly irrational. If it weren¡¯t for young Nero¡¯s surprisingly strong economic position, she¡¯d be ruining him.¡± Nick had expected some conflict between the two women as to who was actually in control of House Walker, but he hadn¡¯t thought Ms. Averett was the type of person who would be considered wasteful. ¡°Oh? What did she do?¡± Vera replied, ¡°Technically, nothing yet. But from what I can tell, she¡¯s planning on expanding Nero¡¯s house further by capitalizing on his recent notoriety.¡± Even more confused, he asked hesitantly, ¡°What notoriety?¡± Over the connection, Nick could feel Vera¡¯s irritation quite clearly. ¡°I think it was the Blackwoods that started it, but with how the council is acting, I can¡¯t be entirely sure.¡± Sitting up in his seat, Nick panicked for a moment at what the Blackwood¡¯s involvement could mean. His tone cold as ice, he asked, ¡°What did they do?¡± Obviously intending to calm him down, her voice became soothing and eerily calm as she began explaining, ¡°I¡¯m sure you remember, Nero has been a topic of conversation for some time. Between his part in the noble war, his eye-catching appearance in the arena, and his not-so-secret conflict with the nobles, many people have been following his story. I think we were just beginning to see the nobles'' response to his growing popularity with the recent opinions being distributed through the Thought Hub. Many prominent figures have begun openly questioning whether or not Nero is as impressive as some of the stories people are hearing make him sound. Whoever is behind it was careful enough to begin slowly shifting public opinion rather than outright confronting it. It was very well done and if they had more time, their plan probably would have worked. To be honest, I only really noticed the pattern when that researcher, Madaline York, began voicing concerns about House Walker¡¯s exploitation of density shift. Other respected city leaders publicly responded, either partially agreeing with her or reframing the issue while taking Nero¡¯s exploitation of Dorchester¡¯s plight as a given. Taken together, it was clear that a subtle campaign to discredit the usage of our trading houses had begun. I didn¡¯t even oppose it at first, as it worked to advertise our new enterprise. But looking at it now, in the long run, I fear it could have done a great deal of harm to House Walker¡¯s name. In the coming months, when our competitors opened their own trading houses, people looking for an alternative would jump at the opportunity to boycott us. However, I no longer see that happening since this morning the Thought hub was overrun by memory engrams from returning soldiers who made a point of highlighting Nero¡¯s contributions,¡± she said in amusement. Baffled, he asked, ¡°OK. But what does any of that have to do with Cathleen? And how can you be sure it was the Blackwoods behind it? The Yorks and the Blackwoods aren¡¯t in any alliance that I¡¯ve ever heard about. In fact, If I remember correctly, Lord York and Lord Blackwood used to hate each other. I would have thought Lord York would be grateful to House Walker for exposing his actions, leading to both his disgrace and execution.¡± Vera''s reply was swift and sharp, ¡°There isn¡¯t a noble in Dorchester who doesn¡¯t fear House Walker¡¯s rise. Even after being raised to a unique, he¡¯s made it clear he¡¯ll be leaving a presence in this city through House Verena. You should consider what will happen to us after Nero moves on to another city.¡± Nick had to admit that she had a point. It only made sense that the nobles would already be preparing to counter Nero¡¯s influence. Planning for the future was just good sense. A long-term public relations campaign against House Walker¡¯s interests should have been something he¡¯d expected. Vera continued, ¡°Regardless, Cathleen had already anticipated the nobles spreading word about Nero¡¯s ¡®war crimes¡¯, and had one of the W.A.C.¡¯s new members create an informative memory engram that she intended to have me distribute in order to counter their claims. When I told her about what was going on across the Thought Hub, she had me distribute it immediately. She also requested Nero¡¯s estate to be restaffed and supplies arranged for her growing forces. I¡¯ve also sent out two wagonloads of armor, gear, and weapons which should be reaching you by tonight. The army¡¯s engineers have already built a connecting road through the mountains to your position and I hear they are preparing an assault force to head into the mountain after the kobalds.¡± Sounding annoyed, he replied, ¡°And that¡¯s enough to affect House Walker¡¯s finances?¡± Vera replied, ¡°Not at all. However, once I distributed the informational memory engram she¡¯d asked me to, the Thought Hub began receiving more and more testimonials from returning soldiers who had personally witnessed Nero¡¯s heroics. In less than a day, everyone in Dorchester has been talking about it. The religious quarter has become even more vocal, declaring that this is proof of their claims of his divine purpose. I¡¯ve been flooded with requests to join him in his ¡®noble¡¯ crusade. When I told Cathleen about it, she began talking about expanding Nero¡¯s mercenary company into a hunting division under the personal control of Nero. She¡¯s having me recruit and outfit teams to go out into the wilds and establish House Walker¡¯s presence. We¡¯ve run the numbers, and if we don¡¯t screw up, House Walker will be raking in the profits from the essence crystals we¡¯ll be receiving.¡± Paling at the idea of even more warriors being infected with Nero¡¯s idiocy, he asked, ¡°How many more people is she expecting?¡± Vera replied in amusement, ¡°It¡¯s been less than 12 hours since we started, and I¡¯ve already signed 3 respected teams totaling 19 people. Her requirement that they agree to follow Nero into whatever danger he decides to get mixed up in didn¡¯t put them off at all. In fact, they seemed quite excited about it. From the initial responses I¡¯m been getting, you can expect that there will be quite a few more like-minded people joining the Walker Adventuring Company in the future.¡± Nick replied with a sigh, ¡°Wonderful, just what we need¡­ more wackos.¡± ¡ª-- By the time Arch-mage Jennings returned Nero to House Walker¡¯s tent, it was already well past sundown. Still processing everything they¡¯d talked about, Nero walked through the tent flaps with a frown on his face. The common room was filled to the brim with wackos drinking and laughing, the festive atmosphere immediately assaulted his senses with the contrast to how he was currently feeling. Noticing a slight incongruity in the ether on his left, Nero turned to see Cathleen approaching him at a brisk walk. Focusing his essence field around her, he could tell that her presence was slightly masking itself among the various essence fields of the people around her. Had he not already been familiar with the technique, he would have easily missed her. ¡®She is disgustingly good at hiding in plain sight,¡¯ he thought to himself in wonder. When she stopped hiding herself, the transition was so quick he almost missed it. ¡®Appearing¡¯ fully in the room, she asked, ¡°Are you alright, little lord?¡± Smiling fondly at the familiar term, he replied, ¡°Yeah, I¡¯m fine.¡± Gesturing off to an area away from everyone, he led her away while quietly asking, ¡°Jennings said that he told you where I was?¡± While slowly nodding, Cathleen¡¯s face remained expressionless. ¡°Yes, I handled everything in your absence. You have nothing to catch up on. What I¡¯m more concerned about is what you discussed with the archmage?¡± she asked, her voice laced with quiet intensity. Smiling weakly, he replied, ¡°Nothing sinister, I don¡¯t think. We just talked about The Game, and my place in the world.¡± Replying with some steel in her voice, she said, ¡°Your place is with us. You don¡¯t have to give up your plans to adhere to his wishes. As a unique, even he does not have the right to influence your decisions.¡± You might be reading a pirated copy. Look for the official release to support the author. Shaking his head at the care she was showing him, he said, ¡°No, he wasn¡¯t trying to convince me of anything. Or, at least I think he wasn¡¯t. You have to understand¡­ up until recently, I¡¯ve been just going with the flow. Aside from the few times where I stuck my nose in where it didn¡¯t belong, I¡¯ve mostly been just reacting to things as they come. But now, having had to come to terms with the fact that I¡¯m a ¡®player¡¯, along with all of the crap that I¡¯ve somehow gotten myself into¡­ It¡¯s all just a little much to take in.¡± Slightly frowning in confusion, she said, ¡°Everyone is a player in their own game, that¡¯s what being awakened means. When you are a child, your caretakers are there to protect you. But when you become an adult, you awaken your power and are forced to confront the obstacles the world puts in your path on your own. While it is a heavy responsibility, it is one we must all carry.¡± His shoulders drooped as he sighed in exasperation at her monologue. She really can¡¯t help but talk like a wizened mentor guiding him toward his destiny through metaphor and spiritualism. What¡¯s worse, Nero now knew enough about the world to know for a fact that she was actually being literal. Crazily, translation magic had no problem equating what he meant by ¡®player¡¯ to how she was using it. This was a world where touchy-feely crap blurred its lines with games and fantasy in a mish-mash of real-world responsibilities and accountability. To Nero, it was like finding out all the little ways in which winning the lottery ruined your life. Taxes, meetings with accountants, familial requests, false friends coming out of the woodwork, days and days of endless work managing the new fortune¡­ being confronted with the reality of the consequences ended up souring the fantasy. Here he was, in an actual fantasy world, with freaking magic no less, and he was being corrupted into becoming an emotional little twat concerned with keeping his people alive and confronting terrors in defense of all of humanity. A fate he¡¯d always sworn to himself that he would avoid if he was ever lucky enough to find himself in this situation. This all reminded him of when he¡¯d been forced to learn what insurance premiums meant when he¡¯d had to pick out his healthcare provider after having made manager. The feeling of being dragged kicking and screaming into adulthood had nearly driven him to alcoholism. If it hadn¡¯t been for his girlfriend at the time, he¡¯d probably have run off to Hawaii and taken a job at a surf shop or something. Now, once again¡­ circumstance was forcing him to ¡®adult¡¯. Which was actually his least favorite verb after retching and excreting. Looking resigned to his fate, he reached out and gently patted Cathleen on her arm, silently assuring her that he was fine. ¡°Let¡¯s not talk about this anymore. I¡¯m just going to keep focusing on my shit, and let the rest of it fall wherever it wants,¡± he said firmly before changing the subject, ¡°Now, I heard from Jennings that you¡¯ve organized House Walker or something? When will we be rejoining the fight with the kobalds?¡± Easily slipping into her command voice, she replied, ¡°We¡¯re just waiting on the wagons Lady Verena sent with our supplies. Tomorrow morning, we¡¯ll be presenting you with options as to how you want us to proceed.¡± Surprised to hear that Cathleen had been communicating with Vera, he asked, ¡°How about giving me a preview? What are you and everyone else thinking?¡± Crossing her arms, and adopting the warrior look Nero had become used to seeing, she replied, ¡°Three options, my lord. One, we stay here and follow the secondary army into the tunnel the kobalds have provided us. The army intends to press into the mountain on two fronts, and we have the option of choosing which front we¡¯ll be joining. Two, we return to Dorchester and collect those recruits who are there waiting for us before heading to the mountain gate and joining the forces there. Finally, we can split our forces, sending our troops to wherever you¡¯d like while you go to the mage tower and use your abilities to aid the campaign there. In that case, I¡¯ll be leading House Walker¡¯s forces into the field.¡± Raising his eyebrows in surprise, Nero found himself focusing on one particular sentence she¡¯d quickly glossed over. ¡°Wait¡­ we have more troops waiting for us in Dorchester? Has Vera been recruiting?¡± Shrugging away the question, Cathleen replied, ¡°Don¡¯t worry about it. It¡¯s being handled. You just need to decide where House Walker will be going. Personally, while I¡¯d like to see your continued involvement in the upcoming battles, tactically it would make more sense to make use of your ability to pierce the kobald¡¯s illusions through the mage tower. Intelligence is currently the weakest aspect of Dorchester¡¯s preparations for the assault. Your aid would no doubt be of great help to all of us.¡± Rubbing his hands across his face, he felt like screaming. He really didn¡¯t want to spend his days locked in a room scrying stuff. Despite how interesting the magic tower probably was, he was sure doing monitor duty would be utterly boring. Everyone else would be out having fun, fighting, and getting into trouble, and he¡¯d be stuck watching their adventures. He¡¯d always been more of an RPG fan than an RTS enthusiast, he enjoyed being part of the action, not coordinating it. Changing the subject once again, he asked, ¡°Any word from the evaluators and that grandmaster guy? How¡¯s the thing with the council going?¡± Keeping her expression blank, she replied evenly, ¡°It¡¯s being handled. You don¡¯t have to worry about it. I¡¯m told you¡¯ll be receiving a briefing about it tomorrow at the meeting.¡± Staring at her, he waited patiently for her to say more. When a few seconds passed, and he realized that what little she¡¯d said was all he was going to get, he sighed and said, ¡°OK, that¡¯s fine I guess. Look, I really need a break, so I¡¯m just going to go to my room and call it an early night. In the morning, I¡¯ll let you know what I decide. Fair warning, I¡¯ll probably just end up going along with whatever you guys decide.¡± More than done with the conversation, Nero embraced the culture¡¯s weirdness and walked off without another word. Aside from a few polite head nods he¡¯d been forced by circumstance to give out, he made his way through the common room without any issues. Finally stepping into his little room, he closed his eyes and enjoyed a moment of utter silence. His mind was awash with concerns about what he was going to do, how he was going to pay for his soldiers, the responsibility of the life oaths he was taking on, and how his dream of being a reality-altering mage with a mobile tower fit into all that. When he¡¯d first showed up here, everything had been so simple. How had it all gotten so complicated? Stripping off his clothes, he collapsed onto his cot and looked up at the ceiling with dead eyes. He wasn¡¯t just a guy in a fantasy world goofing off anymore. Now he was a noble at odds with other nobles, currently under watch by the big bad powers that be from the capital, and now, apparently, the ¡®hope¡¯ of Dorchester. Snorting in amusement at the idea of people actually having decided to follow him anywhere, he closed his eyes and sank into his inner world. Like always, he found himself on his path, the woods stretching out around him like a comforting blanket of possibilities. Overhead, the sun still shone alongside the puffy white clouds. Under his feet, the familiar stone path stretched out before him, the shadows from the trees around him dancing merrily due to the gentle breeze. However, despite how pretty everything looked, something wasn¡¯t right. Instead of seeing his experiences floating around, waiting for him to incorporate them into his identity, all he saw were wisps of memory already fading out of existence. He had absolutely no idea what was going on. ¡®Where the hell is all my damned experience?¡¯ he thought to himself angrily. Mentally lashing out, he gripped one of the wisps and tried to pull it toward him. Instead of coming along easily, he felt the memory slip through his grasp, vanishing into the air like smoke. ¡°Um¡­. well¡­ this isn¡¯t good,¡± he muttered. Looking around for a hint of what had changed, his attention was caught by the path in front of him. While usually it looked like it stretched all the way into the mountains in the distance, it now inexplicably veered off course. It was a slight curve that resulted in the path disappearing around a few trees. Although it could very well still be heading toward the mountains, he could no longer see it. Face-palming, he groaned in annoyance at the utterly on-the-nose metaphor for having ¡®lost his path¡¯. ¡®Sometimes¡­ I really hate this world,¡¯ he thought to himself. Not having any other ideas, he checked his identity panel and wasn¡¯t surprised to see his experience level exactly where it was the last time he¡¯d looked. It would seem that his rapid progress had suddenly come to a pathetically depressing full stop. Tipping his head back and closing his eyes, he whined to the sky, ¡°Alright¡­ I get it. I¡¯ve lost my way. So, do I need a shrink, or a mind healer or something?¡± Even though he hadn¡¯t exactly expected a response, the silence he received as an answer still pissed him off. Having no better ideas, he angrily sat himself down on the ground and stared hatefully at the trees in the distance. ¡®OK. I can figure this out. Everything is a metaphor here. I¡¯ve lost my path¡­ so I have to find it again. Paths are personal. So, it''s probably some ¡®stay true to yourself¡¯ nonsense or maybe an ¡®embrace your destiny¡¯ kind of a thing. Either way, I need to have some kind of personal revelation that will put me back on my path. Sounds doable. How hard could it be,¡¯ he thought to himself. It turned out to be very hard, as he ended up staring blankly at the trees for what felt like hours without anything to show for it. He¡¯d wasted more than a little time trying to mentally review his life, treating his personal history as some kind of story and writing a character description for himself. Nero Walker is an average guy with unrealized but limitless potential. With a cheery and good-natured personality, he lived a wonderful life full of friends and love, unfortunately always feeling like he¡¯d been missing something. When he tragically died before his time, he found himself on his own in the void between worlds, lost and alone. Through luck or destiny, he was able to find himself a new world to call home. It had magic and wonder, along with the promise of adventure that he¡¯d always longed for. Like a duck in water, he¡¯d finally found his place in the universe. Quickly making friends, he rose up through the ranks of citizenry until he became a lord with a house of his own. Loved and respected by those who¡¯ve chosen to follow him, he valiantly confronts the dangers of the world and protects those he¡¯s come to care for. When that didn¡¯t work, he moved on to his next idea¡­ begging for help. Returning to the world, he opened his eyes and sat up with a scowl on his face. Looking up randomly into the air, he said, ¡°Hey, Jennings, if you happen to be paying attention, I could use a professional consult. Something is wrong with my noggin¡¯, and I¡¯m 90% sure it¡¯s your fault. So, get your ass over here and fix me!¡± Chapter 222 - Ive got something to say. Had it been anyone else demanding his presence, they would feel honored that it took him less than five minutes to arrive. But for Nero, apparently, that five minutes was more than enough for his insecurities to overwhelm him, sending him into a panic-filled tantrum. From the moment he¡¯d arrived, Jennings hadn¡¯t had a chance to say a word. Instead, Nero had quite thoroughly filled the room with his ranting and raving, all the while pacing back and forth and waving his arms around like a conspiracy theorist proclaiming the true and suppressed history of the pyramids. Yet, being old as hell and well beyond Nero¡¯s capability to handle, Jennings merely took a seat on the room¡¯s solitary chair and listened patiently to what Nero had to say. Surprisingly, much of what he was hearing was actually rather interesting. He hadn¡¯t realized the detail and realism of Nero¡¯s soulscape. While everyone at some point developed a mental representation of their path, he¡¯d never heard of one so all-encompassing and thorough. With such a strong representation of his path, Nero would likely be able to troubleshoot his leveling process rather easily as he continues to progress. To Jennings, it sounded like it was worthy of being labeled an ¡®ability¡¯ all on its own. That wasn¡¯t to say he wasn¡¯t concerned about what Nero was saying. He knew many people who fell off their path and were never able to recover. Keeping true to a path wasn¡¯t a simple matter. It took effort, reflection, and hard work. Everyone had at some point felt their path slowing down at some point. However, what Nero was describing sounded more like a block¡­ and that was more than a little worrying. Leveling blocks were usually a result of a person having done something they couldn¡¯t forgive. It was a deeply personal issue that would likely require years of attention from a mind healer. He was quite familiar with the phenomenon and had seen many examples of leveling blocks over his many years at the Tower of Magic. Parents accidentally causing the death of their children. Supervisors giving into greed and allowing outside interests to overshadow their duty. Researchers who, through their ignorance, unleashed unintentional horrors into the world. Even something as simple as losing an arena challenge to a political enemy that they didn¡¯t expect to was sometimes enough for someone¡¯s path to falter. ¡°... And that¡¯s the REAL problem! This world is so hung up on everything being a metaphor that things stop meaning the thing they were meant to! Do you get what I¡¯m saying? Like, seriously, the world is made up of essence, but essence can¡¯t make anything permanent unless a person¡¯s BELIEF is strong enough or some shit! Come on, how in the hell does that make any sense!¡± Nero shouted madly while shaking an accusing finger into Jennings¡¯ face. Throwing up his hands, Nero began pacing around again while continuing his rant, ¡°A whole world where leveling isn¡¯t based on killing things, but on how well you know yourself or some bullshit. I know myself fine, dammit! I¡¯m awesome! You hear me? There is no reason that I should have ¡®lost my path¡¯ or whatever other ridiculous term your thinking about in that old ass head of yours.¡± Pausing in place for a moment, Nero seemed to think of something before turning back toward Jennings and shouting, ¡°You know what REALLY pisses me off? It¡¯s the way everything here sounds like nonsense while actually meaning something. Cathleen is constantly saying shit that sounds like it came from the type of book people read while taking a dump, and I¡¯m supposed to somehow take it literally?!? Seriously, man, this world is not the fantasy world I was promised! If there is some kind of overseer or admin, I¡¯d like to file my complaint now!¡± Jennings had to stifle a chuckle at that one. The thought of Nero confronting the great dragon who controls this region and shaking his fist at her in outrage was almost worth arranging just so he could be there to watch. Shoulders slumping in defeat, Nero¡¯s voice lowered to normal, by contrast almost sounding like a whisper. ¡°Honestly Jennings, my man. I¡¯ve been white-knuckling it for a while. Every time I think I¡¯ve finally figured this place out, another aspect of life here that I knew nothing about shows up and ruins everything. I just wanted to learn magic! You know, fight some monster and see some crazy shit! I¡¯m not cut out for all this responsibility!¡± Jennings sighed, perhaps he shouldn¡¯t be too surprised by the young man¡¯s apparent breakdown. The world he¡¯s found himself in is probably drastically different than what he was used to. The fact that he¡¯s adapted as quickly as he has is impressive enough to have possibly blinded those around him to his struggles. ¡®Perhaps I¡¯ve been a little too hard on him. It would be a waste to squander his potential before I get to study it,¡¯ he thought to himself. ¡ª-- Collapsing onto the cot, Nero stared up at the ceiling and asked Jennings, who was currently occupying the room¡¯s only chair, ¡°So¡­ thoughts¡­ opinions¡­ impressions¡­ let me have it. I¡¯m sure you¡¯ve got theories and crap about what is wrong with me, so let¡¯s hear them.¡± Nero had run out of things to complain about and was perfectly happy waiting for Jennings to subtly call him an idiot by lecturing him about how the world actually worked, and specifically what he had missed. Compared to the cacophony that had been filling the room due to Nero¡¯s rant, the current silent atmosphere felt heavier than usual for both of them. His tone almost apologetic, Jennings began, ¡°Young Nero, you may not believe it, but I understand what you¡¯re going through. When I was a much younger mage myself, I¡¯d had to deal with the same kind of feelings. Finding one¡¯s path is difficult, but staying on it¡­ that¡¯s the true challenge. You should be proud of how far you¡¯ve come, and trust that in time you will go even further. Despite this small setback, you will no doubt become the man everyone is expecting you to be.¡± Propping himself up onto his elbows so he could lock eyes with Jennings while still lying down, Nero glared at the man with an expression on his face that demonstrated his feelings quite clearly. Fury. Hatred. Annoyance. These simple terms weren¡¯t enough to encapsulate the all-consuming rage he was currently feeling at the world and at Jennings¡¯, who was currently serving as its representative. ¡®Seriously! More self-help bullshit wrapped up in a nice fatherly-advice package and delivered with a ¡®you-can-do-it¡¯ bow? I¡¯m about this close to taking a flamethrower to this whole country before taking my chances with the upper realms as a soul ball again,¡¯ he thought to himself harshly. Wisely keeping his mouth shut, Nero dropped back onto the bed and resumed staring at the ceiling. Meanwhile, Jennings continued to spout platitudes about how hard work and perseverance were all that was required to overcome what Nero was dealing with. Rather than helping Nero with the ¡®real¡¯, ¡®actual¡¯ problem of having his experience not registering within his soul space, the pain in the ass archmage continued on about ¡®feelings¡¯ and ¡®responsibility¡¯, confronting what he finds uncomfortable, and being true to himself. Stifling a groan of annoyance, Nero half listened to the man, hoping that at some point the man would start addressing the reality of the situation and stop offering platitudes. Unfortunately, it seemed he wouldn¡¯t get that lucky as Jennings ¡®talk-therapy¡¯ or whatever it was called went on for quite some time. Finally having enough of it, Nero sat up and interrupted him. ¡°Do you even understand what it is I¡¯m worried about?¡± Nero asked harshly. Jennings¡¯ expression was basically the same one Nero had seen on his high school guidance councilors face as she recommended he work hard at community college before earning his bright future at some point down the road. ¡°Of course I do, Nero. You just need to give yourself time. Have faith in yourself. You¡¯ll find your path again!¡± he said cheerily. Losing it, Nero shouted, ¡°I don¡¯t care about any of that! I never have! I just want to level! Can¡¯t you understand the concept of being pissed at the fact that in order to move forward, I have to constantly ¡®work on myself¡¯? I¡¯m a do¡¯er¡­ not a thinker! The only thinking I want to do is about magic, and even that requires philosophy here. I feel like I¡¯m getting bogged down in so much touchy-feely crap that I¡¯m losing myself! Don¡¯t you get it? This is not me! I¡¯m just not cut out for the emo-life¡­ I¡­ I don¡¯t belong here.¡± Jennings sat in silence, rubbing his chin in thought while he looked over at Nero with patience and understanding. Stolen novel; please report. Having heard himself, Nero sat in stunned silence for a few seconds before incomprehensibly bursting into laughter. ¡®Not an emo¡­ hypocritical much!¡¯ he thought to himself sarcastically. Hopping to his feet, he firmed his will and straightened his shoulders. ¡®It¡¯s time I stop letting this bullshit get to me. I decide what I¡¯m going to do, nobody else. No more Mr. Hero-guy. It¡¯s laying-down-the-law time,¡¯ he said to himself firmly. Turning his head to glance over at Jennings, he said, ¡°Alright, I get it. Be true to myself and all that. Thanks for trying to help, I appreciate it. I know what to do now.¡± Stunned at Nero¡¯s rapid mood shift, Jennings looked up at the young man from his chair, not knowing what to say. Practically stuttering, he said, ¡°Very well, but if you need anything in the future, I and many others are here for you. We all believe in you, and will happily help you however we can.¡± Snorting in amusement, Nero replied, ¡°Right. Just not with any advanced magic that I¡¯m not ready for, and only when it won¡¯t affect my ¡®path¡¯.¡± Stepping forward, Nero patted Jennings on the shoulder gently as if he were placating a small child while saying, ¡°You people can be kinda adorable, you know that? But, seriously, thanks for coming when I called. You¡¯re alright man. Now, go get some sleep, or whatever archmagy things you need to do. I got some people to set straight.¡± Walking out of the room, Nero left Jennings sitting there in silence. The old mage was both happy that Nero seemed to be his old self again, while also wondering what the young man had been talking about. Weakly muttering, ¡°Adorable?¡± he remained in the room for quite some time, lost in his thoughts, before finally teleporting back to his office. Nero on the other hand, was a man on a mission. He stalked through the tent''s hallways toward the common room, intent on getting his life back under control. When he arrived at his destination, he immediately spread out his senses to find Cathleen. Ignoring everyone who tried to catch his attention, he slipped through the crowd and walked up to the table she was currently holding court at. All the big names were there. There was that assassin guy who had proclaimed his undying loyalty. Angleton who even now looked at him like a football coach staring at his star player. Two of the evaluators, that Idrius chick and Academian Quincy¡­ both still wearing their dumbass ¡®light¡¯ hats. That woman, Keening something, who was in charge of the wackos. Nick, who was the only one who actually looked happy to see him. And finally, Cathleen, whose face as usual looked like it was carved from marble. With his newfound skill at seeing what others missed, he even noticed Rose standing back against the wall, listening in on the conversation while everyone ignored her. ¡®Once a spy, always a spy,¡¯ he thought to himself humorously. Seeing that everyone was already staring at him, he didn¡¯t bother to wait for their greetings. ¡°OK, so I¡¯m going to make an announcement. I have no idea how this is going to go down, so I¡¯m apologizing up front if this somehow screws up any of the hard work you¡¯ve been doing,¡± he said firmly, before turning around and walking off toward the side of the room where his house¡¯s stupid flags were hanging on the walls. After eyeballing the space between the flags, he figured he was close enough to the middle for government work and cast the ¡®pillar¡¯ spell he¡¯d practically mastered. As the ground beneath him rose up, he looked over the large room, guessing that probably half of his current forces were here at the moment. ¡®Well, maybe half¡­ who knows how many idiots have signed up to follow me at this point,¡¯ he thought to himself wryly. Now standing well above everyone, he cupped his hands and shouted, ¡°Hey, attention everyone! I¡¯m sorry to interrupt your night, but I¡¯ve got a few things to say!¡± The room quieted down quickly, as everyone turned to stare at him. While expressions varied, Nero could tell that on the whole, they were looking at him like he was a televangelist broadcasting his message across the great state of Alabama. Shaking his head in amusement at the situation he found himself in. He thought to himself, ¡®Yeah¡­ this has to stop¡­ this has to stop like RIGHT now.¡¯ Projecting his voice as best he could, he began, ¡°I know many of you have joined up based on some kind of belief that I am some kind of hero or something. Whether it¡¯s because I healed you, or you think I saved you, I¡¯m sure you¡¯ve all got some image of what I represent in your head. I get it, I do. But, I¡¯m here to tell you right now that you¡¯re wrong. I¡¯m not saying you¡¯ve been deceived or lied to or anything, but I think you are just projecting.¡± Seeing looks of confusion spreading throughout the room, he tried to explain, ¡°What I mean to say is that what you think about me is entirely based on what you hope I am.¡± Trying to choose his words carefully so that he could get his point across the way he wanted to, he rubbed the back of his neck and sighed before continuing, ¡°Look¡­ I¡¯ve read a lot of your stories from the letters you sent. You all have histories that have shaped who you are, just like me. Whether you were a criminal or a soldier, a caravan guard or a housewife, you were looking for a change. Now, I¡¯m not saying that you shouldn¡¯t have signed up to be a wacko, that isn¡¯t any of my business.¡± Firming his shoulders, he took a deep breath and decided to finally get to his point. ¡°What I am saying is that you deserve to know what you¡¯re getting into. I¡¯m not a nice guy. I don¡¯t particularly care about what kind of crappy life you¡¯ve led. In my opinion, everyone¡¯s life pretty much sucks¡­ and then you die. Along the way, hopefully, you have some good times and find a few friends to make the experience suck a little less. I¡¯m no different than the rest of you. I have no idea what I¡¯m doing. I¡¯m just trying to get through the day without feeling like an idiot like everyone else. I didn¡¯t ¡®save¡¯ anyone due to some grand calling, or moral principle. Basically, I healed a bunch of people because I wanted to practice healing and couldn¡¯t figure out how to help out with the shield. That whole thing with the ambush where I ¡®led¡¯ the charge to save everyone¡­ I barely thought about anything other than the fact that it was a shitty plan that I didn¡¯t agree with. Hell, even the thing with the siege wyrm started off because I thought whoever was in charge over there was being a fucking moron. I didn¡¯t necessarily think about saving anybody, I just had an idea and went with it. Granted, things got a little out of hand there at the end, but that just goes to show you the point I¡¯m trying to make. I¡¯m telling you all right now, stop believing in whatever idea you have of who I am because you¡¯re wrong. I¡¯m no leader. Hell, I¡¯m not even a good follower. You people keep talking about paths and crap, and regardless of how much I hate it¡­ I¡¯m starting to see that I can¡¯t avoid dealing with it. When it wasn¡¯t affecting me, I was perfectly fine letting you all think whatever you wanted to about me. While I didn¡¯t necessarily enjoy it, at the time I didn¡¯t see the harm in it. But now, it¡¯s starting to mess with my head. So, let me set the record straight. You can join House Walker if you want. You can follow me into whatever danger I end up in. I¡¯m not going to stop you. However, you need to know that I¡¯m not going to be running anything. That¡¯s all Cathleen and the others. They¡¯ll be in charge of all that stuff. I¡¯m, at best, a figurehead. To be honest, even that amount of responsibility is something I¡¯m probably going to do my best to ignore. I didn¡¯t come to this world at the behest of some deity looking to help you all out. I¡¯m not interested in confronting the system and freeing you from the classist chains you¡¯re all toiling under. I¡¯m not a noble crusader who¡¯s interested in politics and helping the people, and I¡¯m certainly not some asshole who¡¯s going to sit on some chair and tell you how to live your life. I¡¯m just not the kind of person who is capable of caring that much about anyone other than myself. I know who I am, and I¡¯m not going to pretend anymore. This world apparently won¡¯t let me. So, I¡¯ll try to be very, very clear. I¡¯m interested in one thing, and one thing only. I want the freedom to do whatever the hell I want. To that end, I¡¯m interested in magic and money¡­ the two things that will allow me to see the world and enjoy myself without worries. This is a world of magic and wonder, an actual fantasy world that has monsters and dungeons, and I¡¯m planning to see it all!¡± Holding his arms out wide, he smiled like a madman and shouted, ¡°I¡¯m going to seek out new life and new civilizations, boldly going wherever the hell I want, feeling the wind in my hair and the blood pumping in my chest as I kill exotic monsters that I¡¯ve only ever heard of. Along the way, I¡¯m probably going to hook up with numerous barmaids and farmgirls, likely lying my ass off and running away from commitment while doing it. No duty and honor is going to put me in a box and put a label on me. And, I¡¯m warning you right now, you can bet your cartoonishly sweet asses that I¡¯m going to piss some people off along the way. That¡¯s just who I am. I aim to be an adventurer¡­ nothing more¡­ nothing less. One day, when I¡¯m old and gray, I¡¯m going to be sitting comfortably in my magic tower, drinking booze and telling stories about ¡®what¡¯ I killed ¡®where¡¯, and which assholes I pissed off while doing it. Maybe I¡¯ll get lucky and have a harem of big titty elves and some brats. Or maybe I¡¯ll marry a damned dragon. Who knows? I sure as hell don¡¯t expect to be planning all that far ahead while I¡¯m out there living my life to the fullest. But one thing is for sure¡­ I¡¯m sure as shit not going to be anybody¡¯s damned hero!¡± Finishing his speech, Nero lowered his hands to his side and waited for the expected fallout. He could feel the silence in the room, and it was heavy enough to squash a professional wrestler. Inside his center, he could practically sense the heavy blockages on his soul slowly fading away. It was as if all the tension he¡¯d been carrying was being left behind. Standing there on his pillar, finally having freed himself from the burden of having to be someone he¡¯s not, he closed his eyes and tilted his chin up to the ceiling, thoroughly enjoying the moment. Unfortunately, his happiness didn¡¯t last long as the room practically erupted in applause. Opening his eyes, he stared out across the common room in confusion. Throughout the tent, he saw people smiling crazily as they whooped and cheered. Some damned idiots were even crying as if they were overcome with emotion. It was like he¡¯d just given his acceptance speech for a lifetime achievement award or something. ¡®Well¡­ OK, then¡­ Honestly, what the fuck is wrong with these people?¡¯ he wondered to himself in confusion. Chapter 223 - But, No? Please? After the little lord¡¯s impromptu declaration of intent, he vanished like a father having smelled shit in his child¡¯s nappy, leaving her to clean up the mess. And what a mess it was. The followers of House Walker who were present when Lord Walker addressed the common room had needed to be forcibly broken up and given busy work to get them to disperse. Some had been assigned to deal with the arriving supplies from Lady Verena. Others had been sent out to relieve the perimeter guards. Most of those who were left hadn¡¯t had a chance to rest and had needed to be ordered to bed like unruly children. After finally getting everyone calmed down for the most part, Cathleen reconvened House Walker¡¯s current leadership to discuss how the little lord¡¯s speech affected their plans. It took some effort, but Cathleen managed to restrain herself from rubbing her temples in irritation at how she was feeling. This particular state of mind had become all too familiar to her. It was a complicated mixture of pride, envy, respect, and annoyance. By this point, she¡¯d learned to expect the little lord¡¯s antics to inspire such emotions. Forcibly keeping her voice calm and controlled, she asked, ¡°So, thoughts?¡± All around the table, excited faces exchanged meaningful looks. Cathleen could feel their resolute determination feeding off each other¡¯s emotions in the ether. As she wasn¡¯t even remotely good at emotional sensing, she knew they must all be practically vibrating in their seats for her to be able to notice it. Knight Angleton was the first to respond. His fist clenched tightly on the table, she could see the muscles in his neck visibly trembling. Louder than was needed for everyone to hear him, his voice filled with admiration, he barked, ¡°Such presence! Such honesty! That is what true honor looks like. No games. No politics. Never in my life have I witnessed such humble leadership in practice!¡± Stifling a sigh, Cathleen couldn¡¯t even disagree with him. She herself wasn¡¯t unaffected by the little lord¡¯s words. When it came down to it, there were only three types of leaders. Some gained followers for a goal, either duty or purpose. Then there were those who wanted power for power¡¯s sake, and finally, those who gathered a following by setting an example. Each type had their time and place, but it was the last category from which the true legends were born. They were the ones who blazed a path through the world, allowing others to follow in their wake toward greatness. Cathleen watched calmly as the recently assembled Council of Wackos erupted in conversation. She could hear each of them explaining in detail how their lord¡¯s speech affected them, and how they had chosen to interpret it. It was almost like they were unable to contain themselves in the face of their excitement. Starting softly, she began to speak. Her voice cut through the chatter like a knife, swiftly silencing everyone at the table. ¡°When I was a young warrior, barely older than the little lord is now, I was lucky enough to see a live retelling of the ¡®March of Vanifus¡¯. At least some of you must know the story, even here in the south I¡¯m sure there are those who have heard of it?¡± Academian Quincy, appeared out of nowhere, standing behind Scholar Idrius, arms crossed with a pensive look on his face. His voice firm he replied, ¡°You are referring to Vanifus¡¯ address at Morrowcrag? While I agree there were some similarities, I don¡¯t think that¡¯s a fair comparison.¡± Almost smirking, Cathleen looked across the table and up at the evaluator, matching stares with him. ¡°Oh, you don¡¯t see it? A young warrior, not wanting to lead, stating unequivocally that no one should follow him into the danger he intends to seek out. The implacable faith that he will succeed, that nothing shall stand in his way. His fervent desire to face his challenges on his own, choosing to be unburdened by the sacrifices of others along the way. Did you not ¡®feel¡¯ the ether quiver in anticipation of his future deeds.¡± Nearly exploding out of his seat, Michael Harring, the former assassin, now fervent wacko, shouted, ¡°The Walker has given us the task of assembling his forces! He marches to battle, and we WILL be there to support him! I¡¯ve already sent runners back to Dorchester to share his proclamation with the citizenry. Word will spread, don¡¯t you doubt it. There is a true hero among us. One who doesn¡¯t fight for wealth or acclaim, vanity or duty. He doesn¡¯t want followers fighting and dying for him. His purpose is wholely and completely pure¡­ He fights because that¡¯s what he was born to do. The enemies of humanity will quake in fear at his coming! Like the heroes of old, he¡¯ll bring ruin to the wilds, leaving civilization in his wake!¡± Like a tsunami of sound, the table erupted in cheers. Aside from a few people who managed to keep their feelings in check, the ether around Cathleen practically hummed with the emotional resonance. Unable to contain her smirk, she thought to herself, ¡®Well, it looks like I¡¯ve got a lot of work to do. Not that the little shit is going to appreciate it¡­¡¯ ¡ª-- Nero had quickly retreated from the insanity he¡¯d left in the common room. It had taken some quick thinking to apply that ¡®I¡¯m-not-worth-paying-attention-to¡¯ technique he¡¯d recently learned, and a lot more center than he¡¯d expected to have it actually work. ¡®Who would have thought vanishing from sight in front of so many people would be so difficult?¡¯ he complained to himself. Regardless, he¡¯d managed his escape and was now back in his room¡­ hiding. ¡®Seriously, what the hell was that?!?¡¯ he asked himself, trying to stop his hands from shaking. He could still ¡®feel¡¯ the wall of sound that had hit him after he¡¯d finished speaking. He¡¯d never in his life seen so many people that keyed up. Even when he¡¯d attended a concert or two, he couldn¡¯t remember crowds ever being that out of control. Taking a few deep breaths to calm his racing heart, he thought to himself, ¡®There weren¡¯t even that many people there! This emotional feedback thing is like mob mentality turned up to eleven.¡¯ Walking across the room, he plopped himself down on his chair and exhaled heavily. Thinking back, he tried to recall exactly what he¡¯d said. He couldn¡¯t figure out what they were all so happy about. Hadn¡¯t he specifically told them that he wasn¡¯t interested in them following him? He knew at one point he¡¯d made it clear that he wasn¡¯t going to be in charge of anything¡­ hadn¡¯t he? Muttering softly, he said to himself, ¡°It must be some kind of reverse psychology thing. If this kind of shit keeps happening, I might be the only politician in history to be elected by campaigning for people not to vote for him.¡± After taking a few minutes to get his thoughts in order, Nero decided that there wasn¡¯t any point in worrying about it anymore. No matter what he said, they were going to believe what they wanted, and he adamantly refused to be guilt-tripped into living a life for anyone other than himself. He could still hear the echoes of the archmage¡¯s lecture about his responsibility to the world he¡¯d found himself in. Not to mention Nick and Vera¡¯s subtle pushes toward living up to his potential. And the less said about Cathleen¡¯s weird hopes and dreams for him turning into some kind of warlord the better. Visibly shivering at the memory, he forcibly banished the images of former Captain Angleton¡¯s respectful stare along with the former assassin dude¡¯s adoration. ¡®Nope¡­ just nope,¡¯ he said to himself before stripping off his clothes and collapsing onto his cot. He¡¯d done his best. If tomorrow, they still wanted to prop him up as some kind of figurehead, then so be it. There was no way in hell he was going to lose sleep over it. Besides, he had bigger things to worry about. Sinking into his soul space, he found himself back on his cobblestone path in the forest of his mind. Looking around, he didn¡¯t immediately notice anything all that different from before. Well, aside from the fresh memories floating lazily around him. Smiling widely, he reached out and yanked them all toward himself like a fat guy scooping up the free donuts at the morning meeting. Feeling the emotional memories imprinting themself onto his soul, he reveled in the experience of having his center reinforced. He barely cared that he wasn¡¯t getting all that much out of them due to his not actually studying and trying to learn anything from them. The fact that they were here and that his ability to level was working again was more than enough. There would be plenty of time for leveling in the future. For now, he was just happy his soul space was back to normal¡­ or whatever passes for normal in this batshit world. After confirming that he¡¯d gained a full experience point, he closed his identity panel and returned to his exhausted body. Despite being at 100%, he still felt like recent events had sufficiently wiped him out. ¡®Maybe tomorrow I¡¯ll enjoy a sick day. I¡¯m not sure exactly who my boss is going to be, either Cathleen or Vera probably¡­ but whoever they are I¡¯m sure they¡¯ll get on just fine without me,¡¯ he thought to himself as he drifted off to sleep. You might be reading a stolen copy. Visit Royal Road for the authentic version. Unfortunately, his rest did not go uninterrupted as he spent his entire sleep plagued by visions. However, unlike before, they weren¡¯t just dreams of kobalds and their weird lives. He also found himself occasionally catching glimpses of the archmage¡­ specifically his history. Nero didn¡¯t understand exactly how it was happening, but he was able to see a much younger-looking Jennings joining the Tower of Magic as an apprentice. He was able to witness Jennings¡¯ rise through the tower like a flipbook. From the time Jennings had spent in service to various cities, his centuries of service to the former king as a problem solver, the times he had his heart broken and suffered betrayal, all of it played out like a flipbook. Although Nero never actually ¡®learned¡¯ anything about the man, he was able to get a sense of who he was as a person, and how his life had shaped him. There were never any names spoken or conversations witnessed. Instead, it was a lingering impression left stamped into his brain like a really well-done painting. That wasn¡¯t to say that was all he saw. His dreams also showed him the kobalds, but this time it was much different than before. Instead of seeing their civilization, he was able to get a sense of their individual lives. He saw thousands of kobald from their birth to their death, most following basically the same format. They were born in clutches, half-heartedly trained by the upper castes before being sent off as fodder. Their lives were so hazy, so devoid of meaning, that they slipped through Nero¡¯s consciousness like whispers. All he was left with was a sense of sadness at such wasted potential. By the time he woke up, he felt both rested and stretched thin. The fuzzy recollections of what he¡¯d witnessed washed over him from the moment he opened his eyes like waves of stories he¡¯d only half listened to. ¡®What the hell was that?¡¯ he wondered while rubbing his eyes and tiredly throwing his legs off the bed so he could sit up. Frowning in thought, he tried to hold on to what he could, struggling to remember everything that he¡¯d experienced. Like always, the dreams slipped through his mental fingers leaving only impressions in their place. However, now that he had a better idea of what was happening, Nero was at least able to make some educated guesses as to what was going on. He wasn¡¯t sure how, but he just ¡®knew¡¯ that whatever Jennings had done to fix the ether had left something of himself behind for Nero to find. Essence was essentially potential infused with a type, so Jennings ¡®center¡¯ was the essence of Jennings, and Nero realized that he must have been sleep-delving the archmage¡¯s essence he¡¯d left behind in the ether. Widening his eyes in surprise at a thought he just had, he wondered, ¡®If I collected enough Jennings¡¯ essence, and figured out an appropriate spell, could I summon a Jennings of my own? Could I do it with other people? I could become one of those summoners from that anime with the Grail. That would be freakin¡¯ badass!¡¯ Shaking his head at the thought of how far ahead of himself he was getting, he stood up to have a morning wash and get some breakfast. Before long, he was dressed and ready, inconveniently forgetting about what kind of reception he should be expecting at the buffet table. Like an idiot, he strode out of his room and down the hallway, his thoughts firmly on what type of food would likely be available. Not even noticing the people who were pausing in respect at his passing, he thought to himself, ¡®Eggs¡­ definitely eggs and some kind of steak. I¡¯m feeling like something heavy too¡­ maybe they have a sausage gravy equivalent here? Oh! Biscuits and gravy would be fucking awesome right now!¡¯ Emerging from the hallway, he was halfway toward the buffet table when he sensed everyone staring at him. Slowing to a pause, he looked around to see the entire common room standing at attention at their tables¡­ nobody saying a word. Like mannequins, they were all holding fists to their chests and smiling widely at him like fanatics. ¡®Oh, right¡­ they¡¯re still all crazy,¡¯ he said to himself. Coughing lightly into his hand to clear his throat, he awkwardly waved his hand and said, ¡°Good morning wackos, you really don¡¯t have to salute me or anything. Like I said last night, I¡¯m not your leader. I¡¯m just here for the coffee and bagels.¡± Suddenly grimacing, he clarified, ¡°Well, not bagels¡­ that was just a¡­ you know what, never mind. Seriously, go about your business¡­ I¡¯m not even here.¡± Immediately putting them all out of his mind, he turned back toward the buffet table and got to work. While humming an impromptu breakfast tune that sounded like a pathetically poor rendition of Fall Out Boy¡¯s Dance Dance, he filled up a plate before quickly disappearing it into his personal space. Without even missing a beat, he started collecting for plate two. Behind him, the entire room had returned to their seats, but rather than resume talking with their comrades, they were instead watching him intently. Questions as to why he was taking extra food, and if it was because he was expecting a prolonged time on the front were asked in whispers. Other hushed voices wondered what song he was humming. A few were even remarking on his attire, and what his being out of his armor could mean for them. All the while, Nero went about his hunting and gathering, completely enthralled with his current task. Around the time he was collecting food for plate number 3, Nero felt a connection reaching out to him from Nick. Pausing what he was doing, he looked off in the direction he felt it was coming from and quickly stabilized the link. ¡°What¡¯s up, man?¡± he asked cheerily. Nero could feel Nick¡¯s annoyance over the connection. ¡°Stop collecting food and get over here. Everybody¡¯s been waiting for you to wake up. Honestly, how can you sleep so much?¡± Shrugging, Nero narrowed his eyes, trying to visually locate where his friend was calling from. Finally seeing him at a table off in the corner with the rest of House Walker¡¯s leadership, Nero replied, ¡°Why are they waiting on me? Didn¡¯t you all hear my epic speech last night? I¡¯m not in charge of anything¡­ you guys can just tell me where I need to be, and I¡¯ll be there, ready and willing to get the job done.¡± Nero could practically hear Nick groaning in exhaustion as he replied, ¡°You¡¯re still the head of the house. We can¡¯t NOT include you in the deliberations concerning its future. And, do honestly expect me to believe that you¡¯ll just go along willingly with whatever they decide for you? What if they decide they want you to sit out the rest of the war and coordinate your forces from your estate?¡± Paling at the implications of what Nick was saying, Nero suddenly realized he may not have thought his plan through as well as he thought he did. Hurrying over to collect some glasses and a couple of pitchers of coffee and juice, he replied quickly, ¡°OK, fair point. Perhaps I should be involved in some of the planning¡­ as an advisor¡­ yeah, an advisor.¡± Nick replied dryly, ¡°Uh huh. Just finish getting your breakfast and get over here.¡± Like a rubberband breaking, Nick snapped the connection harshly causing Nero to wince. Thinking as fast as he could, Nero tried to remember the different options Cathleen had mentioned to him the day before. All of them seemed fine to him at the time, so he hadn¡¯t thought about what he¡¯d do if his supposed ¡®followers¡¯ went rogue and signed him up for something he didn¡¯t want to do. While he didn¡¯t want to be in charge, he definitely didn¡¯t like the idea of being told what to do. ¡®This is how they get you. If you¡¯re not the one making calls, then you¡¯re the one taking them. I just need to be careful to find the middle ground. I wonder if CEOs have to put up with this shit,¡¯ he complained to himself as he slipped through the room balancing his cups over his plate with his chin. When he arrived at the table, everyone was looking at him with varying levels of happiness. Well, aside from Cathleen and Nick that is. Nick was staring at him blankly, seemingly already tired of dealing with him, while Cathleen¡¯s eyes sparkled with a promise of some future payback coming his way in the training yard. ¡°Morning all, cooks put out a nice spread, didn¡¯t they?¡± he said with a strained smile while taking the seat to Cathleen¡¯s right, which had quite obviously been left open for him. ¡®Real subtle, aren¡¯t they¡­¡¯ he thought to himself. Ignoring him, Cathleen turned toward the rest of the table and continued, ¡°As I was saying, the next few days will be hectic. While Lady Verena assures me that the Walker estate will be ready, she¡¯s made it clear that the oath-giving ceremony is going to be much larger than we expected. Several prominent houses have requested to be present, and the city lord herself has made it clear that she intends to attend as well. I¡¯ll be needing you all to¡­¡± Nero listened carefully, trying to understand what she was talking about. As far as he knew, they were supposed to be discussing the next steps in the war. What ¡®oath-giving ceremony¡¯ are they talking about? Suddenly thinking of the link in his pocket which he always forgets to check, he reached out and looked at the pings he¡¯d missed. Just as he thought, the world hadn¡¯t been kind enough to stop turning while he¡¯d been busy with other things. He hadn¡¯t looked at the damn inbox since yesterday morning, and apparently, a lot has happened since then. Having gotten pretty good at scanning the pings quickly, he saw that many of the wackos he¡¯d sent personalized messages to yesterday had already replied. Most of which were basically requests for continued correspondence and had the distinct feeling of wanting to foster a personal connection with him. Aside from them, there were several forwarded pings from Vera via Cathleen who was apparently somehow in contact with her. They covered some ceremony that needed to be held immediately at his estate, formerly accepting the wackos into his house. Between all the political double-speak he was seeing, he could read between the lines. House Walker was either in need of publicity or needed to follow some cultural expectation he¡¯d almost fumbled. Regardless, Cathleen and Vera had both already set everything up, and his presence was required back in Dorchester before nightfall to prepare. A little stunned at what he was reading as the pings went on, he could see the exact progression of how things had gotten so out of control. The first few messages were about holding a basic oath-giving ceremony out in the field for the few wackos he¡¯d already accepted into his house. Then after more and more people were added, including the former soldiers and criminals, the nobility had gotten involved. From there, the grandmaster expressed his intention to be there to witness his house''s true founding. And now, it was looking like a real ¡®party¡¯. Nero had paused his fork halfway to his mouth as he was going over the pings. He couldn¡¯t even argue with what he was seeing. It was all right there¡­ there was nothing for him to misunderstand. He had visual proof of how it had happened, and the ¡®what¡¯ and ¡®why¡¯ of what he needed to do. Dropping his fork angrily, he audibly groaned before muttering, ¡°Son of bitch¡­¡± Nero¡¯s outburst silenced the table, everyone turning to look at him with interest. Feeling a little overwhelmed, Nero sat back into his chair slumping his shoulders in defeat. All he¡¯d wanted to do was fight some kobalds and try out some magic. Had nobody LISTENED to his perfectly reasonable speech? ¡°So, finally read your pings, have you?¡± asked Nick happily, his disgustingly obvious amusement with the situation earning him a murderous glare from Nero. Chapter 224 - Intentions matter. While everyone was taking their seats, Mage-adept Hana Sovros glanced at the new decorations adorning the walls of their secret meeting place. ¡®Really? We have our own sigils now?¡¯ she thought to herself in amusement. What had once been a small, out-of-the-way, conference room had now spread across the floor like an ever-hungry beast. Three other rooms had had their walls removed to create this central meeting chamber. Six others nearby had been appropriated by the burgeoning secret society for logistics and operational management. Practically an entire quarter floor of the Hennings¡¯ Tower of Magic had been taken over. The level of development they¡¯d achieved was impressive. Their little society had grown enough to include members in every major guild in Hennings, each becoming a faction that worked together for the betterment of its members. By utilizing their contacts in the Royal Academy and the Hennings¡¯ Center, they¡¯d officially listed this entire area of the tower as reserved for a special project. No one outside of their authority would even find a record of it even existing. They even had two archmages covering for them. Barring the direct intervention of Archmage Jennings or the council of mages, no one would ever know they were here. Similar meeting halls had been arranged in the Royal Academy, four of 18 Hennings Centers, and even in the Oglivarchian command compound. The coordination involved in hiding so many members had grown to the point where each had its own leadership council. She was brought out of her thoughts by the sound of a chime echoing throughout the room. At the head of the table, their ¡®leader¡¯, Archmage Faulker, called the meeting to order. Not being one to waste time with any pageantry, he got to the point immediately. With a deep but calm voice, he began, ¡°Thank you all for coming. We have a great deal to discuss¡­¡± His rise to power had been quick and without issue. Everyone on their tiny council had agreed that they needed someone to lead them who knew what they were doing. The secret society¡¯s beginnings had been, at best, disorganized. Now, with the membership rolls expanding, they were finally getting their act together. It had been Archmage Faulkner who had found them, having already been in contact with several other groups who¡¯d been starting up their own secret societies to follow the teachings of the Walker. He¡¯d been the one who stripped away their pathetic attempts at ceremony and spectacle. All it had taken was the question, ¡®What do you think the Walker would think if he saw you all in your ceremonial robes?¡¯ Now, even despite having gotten rid of all the candles and masks, the atmosphere in the room was much more subdued and serious. They were no longer here to play at being a cult. Although they didn¡¯t necessarily have a strict set of precepts, they at least had a direction. Looking around the room, she felt a surprising amount of pride at how far she and the other founding members had come. Each of them had progressed more in the past month and a half than they had in the past decade¡­ in both their level and their careers. With members looking out for each other, helping and supporting one another, they were building something amazing. Archmage Faulker¡¯s calm but powerful voice echoed throughout the room as he updated the council on how the other factions had reacted to the Walker¡¯s proclamation, as it had come to be known. ¡°... and the Academy has, as they tend to, focused on the historical similarities to other legends in their records. While even they agree that the Walker isn¡¯t exactly like anything we¡¯ve seen before, his words could be interpreted as a call to personal action. In the same way that Vanifus the Protector, Warren the Unifier, and High Prophet Libinitz inspired their people, the Walker has seen fit to encourage and guide rather than to demand and order,¡± he said before pausing for a moment to bring out a small book from his robes. Holding it up for the entire table to see, he asked, ¡°Have you all heard about the recent book published by Scholar Templeton?¡± She looked around the room to see if anyone else was as confused as she was. Luckily, she wasn¡¯t the only one with a perplexed expression on their face. Instead of waiting for a response, Archmage Faulkner continued on, ¡°As a cultural and historical scholar, Scholar Templeton has taken it upon herself to make a study of the Walker¡¯s beliefs. Included are essays and dissertations by several great academics, each focusing on one aspect of the Walker¡¯s message. I believe you should all study it, as Scholar Templeton¡¯s conclusion practically predicted the Walker¡¯s response to his followers'' actions.¡± Muttered conversations erupted throughout the room as people couldn¡¯t help but comment on what they¡¯d just heard. For them, the Walker¡¯s proclamation had come as a shock, and to hear that some scholar from the Royal Academy had predicted it was even more so. Continuing on, Archmage Faulker¡¯s voice overpowered the whispers. ¡°That¡¯s not to say that everything in this book is to be taken as fact, but I believe it is a good start.¡± Meeting each of their eyes in turn, he said, ¡°While each of us has decided to follow the Walker for our own reasons, we can all agree that it''s his passion for advancement and dismissal of traditional thinking that has inspired us. We¡¯ve come together to follow a legend in the making, hoping to learn from his rise so that we ourselves can reach our potential. His words, actions, and outlook have given us all much to think about and hopefully helped clear our own paths so that we may follow him to greatness. While together we¡¯ve pledged to learn his teachings, sharing what little we¡¯ve understood and helping each other where we can, each of us is responsible for our own lives. The Walker himself has made that clear.¡± Seeing nods of agreement around the table, Mage-adept Sovros found herself agreeing as well. When she¡¯d first agreed to join this secret society, she¡¯d only been interested in finding others who felt about the Walker how she did. Yet, now that some time has passed, she¡¯d come to truly believe that the Walker¡¯s path through the world would have a great deal to teach her. This little group had become more than just a gathering of supporters, it was now a study group¡­ one which pooled their resources so that they could all benefit from the legend they were watching being born. ¡°So, in light of what we¡¯ve heard, and with the support of all the other factions¡­ In the hopes of formalizing our purpose, I¡¯d like to announce that this society¡¯s name has finally been agreed upon by all the councils. From henceforth, we shall be known as Grinders, the followers of the Walker. For that is what we are. We are not all adventurers, mages, or scholars. We come from all walks of life, each with their own stories to tell. Yet, all of us are dedicated to progressing. We¡¯re willing to put in the work to see each of our dreams realized. Whether we are a mage who is dedicated to climbing the ranks in the Tower, or a warrior seeking to perfect their abilities on the field of battle, each of us will grind ourselves against the world, revealing who we are in the face of adversity,¡± he said firmly. Standing up from his seat, Archmage Faulkner loomed over the table and spoke with passion, ¡°The Walker every day has shown us the way. Despite nobles trying to kill him, sycophants trying to tie themselves to him, and schemers trying to ¡®guide¡¯ him, he refuses to be deterred. He follows his own path and asks us to do the same. He does not push others down so that he may rise, or care about the failings of the world¡­ He moves ever forward along his path, letting the challenges he faces reveal more of himself as he makes his way through the world!¡± Practically glaring at the room with determination, he finished calmly, ¡°So, I ask you. Does this council agree to be known as the Hennings Mage Grinders, one of the many factions of the followers of the Walker?¡± Involuntarily standing up in excitement, Mage-adept heard herself shouting in support of the motion before she even knew what was happening. ¡ª-- Despite Nero¡¯s outburst, the conversation continued on without anyone bothering to ask his opinion. Whether or not it was a coordinated plan or merely coincidence, nobody seemed willing to treat his participation in the upcoming ceremony as anything other than obligatory. Nero had to reluctantly admit to himself that he might be growing as a person, since if this kind of thing had happened to him when he¡¯d first arrived, he¡¯d probably already be out the door by now. However, after having lived through some battles, and having gotten to know these people, he found himself putting up with their bullshit. While half-listening to Cathleen arguing with Keening about how many of the common citizenry should be allowed to personally witness the oath-giving ceremony, Nero was focusing on how the real-world responsibilities he¡¯d been ignoring could affect his identity. Leaning back in his chair with a frown on his face, he thought to himself, ¡®I guess it''s kind of like the Nicholas Cage theory. No matter what movie you find him in, he¡¯s always Nick Cage. He¡¯s a complicated guy who can be crazy, serious, southern, drunk, or just¡­ batshit insane. Yet, no matter what movie he¡¯s in, he¡¯s ALWAYS Nick Cage.¡¯ This narrative has been purloined without the author''s approval. Report any appearances on Amazon. Even if these people refused to let him be, he just needed to focus on keeping his head right. He just needed to think of this kind of crap like a job, never letting other people¡¯s ideas about who he is affect him. They could call him a leader, a humanitarian, a champion of social justice all they want¡­ He knew who he was. Hearing the conversation interrupted by Knight Angleton, Nero looked across the table to hear what the man had to say. ¡°Whether or not the numbers we are expecting actually show up, we need to focus on our next steps in the war. House Walker has accepted a quest, and every day that we dither here like politicians is another day for the kobalds to prepare. While I admit the oath-giving ceremony is important, we should not lose sight of our larger purpose,¡± he said firmly. Nick, the ever-helpful advisor to all replied, ¡°And you think House Walker¡¯s purpose is the completion of the quest? Technically, just by successfully beating back this assault, House Walker could call their duty done and request an accounting. Granted, I¡¯m not saying Lord Walker should, but regardless of how you feel about it¡­ he could.¡± Seeing Knight Angleton¡¯s clenched jaw, Cathleen spoke up before the man could respond, ¡°What House Walker does going forward is not for any of us to decide unless Lord Walker wishes us to. We follow where our head of house leads. That¡¯s the way every force in the kingdom operates and will not have that up for debate. Hear me when I say¡­I will not allow us to be led by a council. We can offer suggestions and opinions, but the final say will always remain with our lord. If you do not like that¡­ then go found your own house and see how many people are willing to follow you.¡± Turning her icy glare onto the knight, she added, ¡°You made a very public commitment to House Walker, and I expect you to follow it.¡± Looking around the table, Nero¡¯s mind seemed to summarize what a few people were thinking with just a glance. Knight Angleton wanted to focus on the war. That former assassin, Harring, wanted to bring in more people under House Walker¡¯s banner. Keening wanted to let the world know how awesome House Walker was. Cathleen was thinking long term, currently focused on the house¡¯s foundation, and Nick¡­ good ¡®ole Nick¡­ He just cared about formalizing everything in writing and having the details finally sorted out. Coughing lightly into his hand to gather everyone¡¯s attention, Nero said, ¡°I¡¯ve come to realize that when I said that I would leave everything up to you guys, you all interpreted that in very different ways. Maybe it''s due to the weird-ass translation magic or something, but this world seems to reinforce people hearing only what they want to hear.¡± Under his breath, Nero added, ¡°Not that my world was all that different.¡± Leaning forward in his chair, he straightened up in his seat and tried to get back to his point. ¡°What I¡¯m trying to say is that you all are thinking about House Walker from the perspective of how you feel about it. Or, more accurately, you think House Walker is all about whatever reason you joined up. But that isn¡¯t any way to run a business, and that¡¯s what this is¡­ a business.¡± Seeing as several people were looking like they were about to leap out of their chairs to object, he held up his hand and said quickly, ¡°Hold up, just let me explain for a second!¡± Running a hand through his hair, he said, ¡°I¡¯ve said it I don¡¯t know how many times, I don¡¯t want to lead anybody. When I first got raised up as a noble, I accepted it because I was being paid to, and also because I was lied to and told that being a noble would keep me safe. Then, I became a unique and found out that I was going to be a house unto myself, carrying it with me wherever I go. So, I accepted a few wackos who wanted to come along. I figured I could pay them with whatever I was getting from the investments I was leaving behind here in Dorchester. Then I found out that you all don¡¯t have a universal currency and I -¡± Nero noticed Nick leaning forward in his seat, eager to contradict what Nero was saying by way of another lecture. Glaring at him, Nero stopped mid-sentence and said, ¡°Not the time, Nick!¡± Like a dog smacked on his nose, Nick leaned back in his chair and sulked. Turning back to the table, Nero continued, ¡°As I was saying, every city has its own interpretation of currency values. So, I figured when I eventually left, the wackos and I could make some money doing quests and adventuring. Win-win, right? The locals get their problems stomped, and we get paid to see the world. As a result, I took a quest from the Dorchester council assholes, and off to the battle we went.¡± Gesturing over to the former assassin and Knight Angleton, Nero went on to say, ¡°Then you guys came along, and joined up, throwing all my brilliantly thought-out plans out the window. Now, here we are with a growing force of miscreants, all looking for different things. Don¡¯t get me wrong, I¡¯m touched¡­ really I am. But, you all seem to think of me as something I¡¯m not. I¡¯d hoped last night¡¯s little speech would have cleared everything up, but I guess I was just being overly optimistic.¡± Taking a moment to sigh heavily in exhaustion, he firmed his shoulders and soldiered on, ¡°But, that didn¡¯t seem to put any of you off following me, so now here we are. I tasked you all with organizing everything, but I didn¡¯t give you any framework¡­ that¡¯s on me.¡± Seeing as everyone at the table was laser-focused on what he was saying, Nero stood up from his chair and adopted his manager''s voice. ¡°As a house, a force¡­ whatever we are¡­ House Walker will be dedicated to seeking out adventures and getting paid for the privilege of finding them. For now, that will be this fight with the kobalds. From what I¡¯ve seen, Cathleen has been given overall control of our forces, so she¡¯s going to decide where we¡¯ll be fighting. As she said, you can offer your suggestions and opinions whenever you want¡­ but the buck stops with her. I get that you all might have your own thoughts about how we should go about our adventuring, but this is how it¡¯s going to go. Each of you has the personal responsibility of figuring out how you want to live your lives, everybody does. I honestly don¡¯t get how you can even think of signing over your life to anybody, but that¡¯s just me. That said, if you all still intend to go through with this ceremony thing, then I¡¯m not going to stop you. But, just know that even if you follow me off into the unknown, you¡¯re still going to have to figure out who you are while you do it. I¡¯m not going to tell you what to do, and you will be free to leave at any time.¡± Nero could practically feel the ether vibrating with how many people were about to object to what he¡¯d just said. Luckily, from his standing position at the table, all it took was a glare to keep them silent. Slowly turning to meet as many of their eyes as he could, he tried to impart how serious he was when he said, ¡°I don¡¯t care how you all choose to interpret what being a ¡®follower¡¯ or an ¡®adherent¡¯ means. I¡¯m going to tell you what it means to me, and since it¡¯s my name on that big-ass flag hanging on the wall, that¡¯s how it''s going to be. You wanna sign up and join House Walker? Fine, then you better be damn sure you¡¯re ready to go out and face some crazy shit. We¡¯re going to be learning on the fly, facing danger, and seeing things that will curl your toes and make you wince. We¡¯re going to train hard, gain experience, and push forward. If there is one thing I¡¯ve learned since I arrived in this world, it''s that no matter how much you all ¡®work together¡¯ for the greater good, your path is your own. As a member of House Walker, we¡¯ll look out for each other, but you gotta focus on yourselves a little more than you¡¯re probably used to. Think of being a member of the W.A.C. as a job, one you¡¯re being paid to do. Who you are is independent of what you do. And what we¡¯re going to be doing is adventuring¡­ I can¡¯t be any more clear than that. If you want to save people, protect the weak, or gain fame, that¡¯s totally fine¡­ If and only if that falls within the boundaries of what we¡¯re doing as a house. So, this is your last chance to walk away. If I understand what I¡¯m reading about this ceremony, then once you¡¯re in¡­ you¡¯re in. We¡¯ll be massacring these kobalds and kicking them back to whatever plane they came from before riding off into the sunset like some honest-to-god badass adventurers.¡± Turning to Cathleen, he added, ¡°By the way, we¡¯ll be needing horses at some point. Can¡¯t ride off into the sunset without horses. So, put that on a list somewhere for when we¡¯re done here.¡± Resuming his glare, he continued, ¡°Alright, that¡¯s about it. I¡¯ve said my piece and pointed the direction. That¡¯s where I¡¯m going, and if you still feel like following me, that¡¯s where we¡¯re headed. Don¡¯t say I didn¡¯t warn ya.¡± Sitting back down, Nero gestured for Cathleen to continue leading the meeting. Before she could, Knight Angleton asked with a disturbingly calm voice, ¡°So, you don¡¯t plan to confront injustice wherever you find it?¡± Nero rolled his eyes so hard his head tipped up at the ceiling before meeting the man¡¯s glare with one of his own. ¡°Of course I¡¯m not just going to sit by and watch people being assholes without doing anything about it. That¡¯s what adventuring IS! The point I¡¯m trying to make is that If we¡¯re on a road and we come across a bandit attack, I want you to understand the ¡®why¡¯ behind our boot-stomping the bastards. We will kill them all, loot them all, track them back to their hideout, and then pillage the damn place down to the studs. We¡¯re not moronic heroes heading to our deaths for some ill-defined greater purpose. If I have anything to say about it, and I do because once again, my name is on the damn flag¡­ House Walker will be about surviving to stick our noses into what we shouldn¡¯t and getting ourselves paid along the way.¡± Staring deeply at the knight, he said, ¡°Heroes die for their glorious purpose, we sure as hell will not.¡± Turning to Cathleen, he added, ¡°Warriors seek out fights for the sake of fighting, we¡¯re not going to be doing that either.¡± To Keening, he said, ¡°We¡¯re not going to be glory hounds, wasting our lives basking in the attention only to find ourselves crippled by our success.¡± To the former assassin whose devoted expression had become somewhat strained, he added, ¡°You¡¯re not following a prophet or an ideal. You¡¯re following a man. Prophets are sacrificed for the good of the many to leave a lasting point that will be remembered. Ideals are never lived up to, and those who are held up to an impossible standard always fail to live up to them. I¡¯m telling you right now, I¡¯m just a guy making his way through the world, nothing more¡­ nothing less.¡± Finally, looking over at Nick with a smirk he added, ¡°Just ask this guy. He knows I¡¯m not all that different than anybody else. Maybe I¡¯ve got one or two tricks up my sleeve, but I compensate for that by being utterly and completely self-centered. My morality and opinions are entirely my own, and I¡¯ll enforce them whenever I damn well feel like it.¡± Chuckling, Nick replied quickly, ¡°Well, it¡¯s all part of the Walker charm, such as it is.¡± Chapter 225 - Social responsibilty. Hovering in the air while seated cross-legged and at peace, the king¡¯s mind rapidly addressed the numerous pings waiting patiently for his attention. Suddenly, he got an alert from one of the divisions he¡¯d ordered to spy on Lord Walker¡¯s budding following in Hennings. Immediately reading it, his entire mind turned its attention to what he was seeing. It seems the young man¡¯s fervent request for people not to follow him has resulted in exactly what he¡¯d expected to happen, but not in the WAY he expected. True, they¡¯ve formalized their little cult and have now begun acting. Yet, instead of focusing on what he¡¯d thought they would, they¡¯ve pivoted their entire purpose. Reading over the report, he had to admit, if only to himself, that he hadn¡¯t seen this coming. Their structure was cohesive, logical, and entirely for the good of their members. They did not advocate anything other than personal development and had no overarching goal. As secret societies went, it was almost refreshing to see them so community-minded. They even had a private Thought Hub set up to request aid from other members and an agreed-upon payment structure. At most, he¡¯d expected some idiots in robes following the little anomaly¡¯s life like a story¡­ not this¡­ whatever this is. Should he do something about it? It had been a long time since he¡¯d been in a situation where he couldn¡¯t predict what would happen¡­ or at least have enough information to make an educated guess. ¡®Hmmm. Well, as long as the plan for the Tower of Fate continues to follow the expected pattern, I suppose it doesn¡¯t matter. I sincerely doubt a community of fanatics advocating hard work and professionalism will amount to anything other than a boon for the city, so it¡¯s best to just let them go about their business. I can always deal with it later if I have to. Besides, eventually, the anomaly will have to come here, and it will be interesting to see what happens when he does,¡¯ he thought to himself with no small amount of amusement. ¡ª-- All things considered, the rest of the meeting went surprisingly well. No one asked too many clarifying questions about his principles, or who Nero was as a person. Aside from needing his reassurance that he would, in fact, be there for the ceremony, the rest of the meeting focused entirely on logistics. While Cathleen led the rest of House Walker¡¯s leadership through what responsibilities they would have, Nero was able to mostly mentally detach himself from the conversation and focus on his link. Yet, his perusal of the pings he¡¯d missed didn¡¯t stop him from occasionally listening in to what the group was talking about though. Group Leader Keening was apparently in charge of politics and party planning, although that¡¯s not what they called it. As far as he could tell, despite having been a guard, Cathleen had put her in charge of creating ¡®engrams¡¯ that her team would post on the Thought Hub for some reason. She also was in charge of coordinating with Vera on getting the ceremony set up. Although, from what he could tell, it sounded more like a fundraiser or something. There were guest lists mentioned, caterers, decorators, and if he hadn¡¯t misheard them¡­ a band. Meanwhile, Knight Angleton was handling their future deployment plans. Conveniently sidestepping the issue of where Nero himself was going to be, House Walker was going to be all over Dorchester for some reason. Hunter teams were being sent out to the wilds to complete missions through the Hunter¡¯s Hall. Two groups under the command of some guy, whose name Nero didn¡¯t recognize, would be remaining here to represent House Walker as the army pushed into the tunnel. And finally, the main force, led by Cathleen would be heading toward the mountain gate and joining the rest of the army. Not wanting to engage in the conversation, Nero was forced to check his pings to see how many freaking people were actually going to be under House Walker¡¯s banner after the ceremony. It took longer than he¡¯d like to admit to find the relevant pings, but find them he did. There were actually two lists, the current roster, and the estimated one which included everyone who¡¯d be giving their oaths tomorrow. It even included a schedule listing what times each group would be giving their oaths and had links to each of their records. Altogether, after the ceremony, he¡¯d have 1543 ¡®members¡¯ of House Walker. It was a ridiculous number, an incomprehensibly stupid number. There were household servants, managerial positions for his interests including accountants and managers, lawyers, store owners for his trading hubs, guards for his estate and his warehouses, hunters, and soldiers¡­ so many soldiers. Unsurprisingly, there was a note at the bottom in bold which stated emphatically that most of these people would be serving House Verena on detached service, while still ultimately being under House Walker. ¡®Thank all that is holy I¡¯m not going to have to pay for all of these people¡­ honestly, what the hell is Vera thinking accepting all these applicants,¡¯ he thought to himself in annoyance. When it came down to it, Nero could only hope that most of these people would be put off by his recent statements, and as a result, wouldn¡¯t show up for the oath-giving ceremony. The rest of House Walker¡¯s leadership was going to be dealing with supplies and coordination. Teams were assigned, orders given out, and weird topics like center representation and keep management were also discussed. Nero followed maybe five words out of ten of what they were talking about. Seemingly forgotten, he was free to eat his breakfast and deal with his pings without anyone bothering him. This time, rather than pretending to sound like someone he wasn¡¯t, he responded to his personal correspondence in as blunt and straightforward manner as possible. He made it clear that he appreciated their support, but was currently focusing on his own stuff, and he recommended that they do the same. He ended up replying to over fifty pings with variations of ¡®it¡¯s not you¡¯ - ¡®it¡¯s me¡¯. In every one, he tried to include one or two cat-poster-worthy quotes to inspire them while telling them to essentially leave him alone. ¡®You¡¯ll go only as far as you want to!¡¯ ¡®Who you are is a product of What you do!¡¯ ¡®Be better than you were yesterday!¡¯ ¡®The world is what you make it!¡¯ None of them were particularly impressive if he was being honest, but he figured if they hadn¡¯t heard them, they¡¯d probably be sufficiently satisfied. All that mattered in the end was that they got the point, and stopped ping¡¯ing him. He had enough to deal with. The other pings he¡¯d neglected to answer weren¡¯t any easier to handle. Jennings had sent him a long-winded ping talking in circles about responsibility, destiny, and taking advantage of his level to address the problems that he and other big shots were restricted from dealing with. In response, Nero sent him an equally long-winded and meandering response about his own journey and how everything would work out in the end. Nero wasn¡¯t sure how well sarcasm translated across pings, but by the end of what he had written, he was thoroughly chuckling at how pointless his response ended up being. Literally, every buzzword he¡¯d ever heard was included. ¡®Recalibratory living¡¯, ¡®Dynamic learning¡¯, ¡®Coordinated journeying¡¯, ¡®Emotional stability¡¯, ¡®Personal responsibility¡¯, ¡®Enlightened self-reliance¡¯, ¡®Logistical competency¡¯, ¡®Healthy incentivization¡¯, ¡®Impactful retargeting¡¯, and an obscene number of variations of the word ¡®Synergy¡¯. Whether or not Jennings would see what he was doing was anybody¡¯s guess, but Nero made sure to specifically save a copy so he could look at it later and laugh about it. Other than that, he had to deal with forwarded pings from Vera addressing the multiple businesses and deals she¡¯d been handling on his behalf. Most of what he was reading he didn¡¯t understand, so he ended up just signing his name to whatever she sent him and offering her his congratulations and thanks. At the end of the day, he either trusted her, or he didn¡¯t¡­ and considering that he didn¡¯t really have any other option at the moment, he was perfectly fine with letting her handle everything. He then had to skim Cathleen¡¯s after-action reports. While dull, they did unfortunately have a recounting of all the people he¡¯d lost from the forces who¡¯d agreed to follow him during the battle. From what he could see, everyone who¡¯d died was one of the criminals who¡¯d intended to join his house. It was a decidedly somber feeling that went along with his signing their death certificates. Since he¡¯d been ¡®sponsoring¡¯ them, as short a time as it was, he was responsible for tracking them. They¡¯d all died during their assault on the central chamber, having agreed to take the lead in return for a substantial decrease in their societal debt. While he theoretically understood the concept of dying for their freedom, he still couldn¡¯t help but think it was a waste. ¡®Stupid system full of stupid people believing stupidly that their deaths mattered,¡¯ he thought to himself sourly. Shaking off the feelings of doom and gloom, he told himself that they were free to do what they wanted, and he wasn¡¯t going to waste his time worrying about it. Finally having dealt with what he could, he marked the remainder to be sent off to Vera to handle when his link rejoined the Dorchester Thought Hub. Some of the pings had official-looking headers and concerned lawyer-looking stuff, either requesting his presence in the capital to receive honors, or other such incomprehensible nonsense. Seeing as he had no idea when he¡¯d be able to deal with any of it, he figured it was best to just pass the buck off to her and let her deal with it. By the time he was done with everything, the meeting looked to be wrapping up. Cathleen thanked everyone for their service while making it clear that she would be watching them. From the tone of her voice, Nero could tell that her management style was more suited for threats than encouragement. Now that he thought about it, It was actually kind of surprising how well everyone responded to her fascist commands. ¡®Whatever¡­ I¡¯m sure as hell not going to stick my nose into it. As long as she¡¯s willing to lead them, she can do whatever she wants,¡¯ he thought to himself. When he was about to leave with everyone else, Cathleen¡¯s hand reached out and gripped his arm in a vice-like grip that left him stumbling. Stolen novel; please report. ¡°A moment, little lord,¡± she said threatenly. Awkwardly turning to face her as she still had his bicep firmly in her grasp, he replied with a smile, ¡°Of course, pretty lady. What can I do for you?¡± Glaring deeply into his eyes with that intense stare of hers, she said, ¡°I still need to hear on what front you¡¯ve decided to include yourself.¡± When she let go, Nero rubbed his arm and turned to face her. ¡°Right. Well, I figured I¡¯d wait to decide until after the ceremony thing. Who knows how many people will actually show up? Plans might need to be changed, you know. We might not have enough people to send off in all those directions you guys were planning. After all, I¡¯ve made it pretty clear that they were signing up for a fairy tale. I doubt there will be all that many who are willing to stick around.¡± Raising a singular eyebrow in amusement at his statement, she replied, ¡°I see. We¡¯ll just have to wait and see then. Am I to assume that you won¡¯t be taking up the Tower of Magic¡¯s request to help them with the scrying then?¡± Snorting, he replied, ¡°Yeah, you could say that. I¡¯ll be in the field, regardless of what happens. I¡¯m guessing most of this craziness will die down when the ceremony doesn¡¯t live up to expectations. After that, we¡¯ll go back to having our little troupe of wackos who will join me with the army heading into the mountain gate. If we have 50 people coming along, I¡¯ll be surprised.¡± That statement earned him the other eyebrow along with a small smirk. ¡°Of course. We¡¯ll just have to wait and see, little lord.¡± Not liking her tone, he glared at her and replied, ¡°Yes. Yes, we will.¡± before turning around and heading off. ¡®She¡¯s buying into the hype¡­ It¡¯s not surprising, she¡¯s always been a little fanatical,¡¯ he said to himself while rubbing the arm she¡¯d assaulted. All around him, he could see people stripping the tent down and organizing the supplies for the move back to Dorchester. As he¡¯d gotten used to carrying everything he¡¯d owned on his person or in his personal space, he didn¡¯t have to bother with going back to his room. Instead, he headed outside and chose a good, out-of-the-way place to watch over everything. After pulling out his trusty tree stump and a book from his personal space, he sat his ass down and tried to get some reading done while everyone was working their ass off. Unfortunately, he was almost immediately interrupted. First, it was a random person delivering him a replacement set of armor on the orders of Cathleen. Not seeing any reason to wait, he stripped down right there in the middle of the encampment and changed. While he was doing so, the woman who¡¯d delivered the armor narrated all the features, taking advantage of the opportunity to praise Lady Verena for her foresight and tactical thinking. Nero smiled and nodded, doing his best not to engage so he could avoid it turning into a conversation. Then, before he was even done strapping down his leather chest piece, another soldier strolled up to discuss something with him. ¡°I¡¯m sorry to bother you, my lord. But, I just wanted to ask you about something you said,¡± the young man stated while practically shivering in fear at the prospect of confronting Nero. Feeling half dressed, and half the man¡¯s size, Nero found the situation amusing enough to merit a chuckle. Looking up at the overly nervous armor-clad man, he replied, ¡°Sure¡­ fire away.¡± ¡°You spoke about focusing on one''s own path, instead of those around you. I¡¯m having trouble understanding what you meant by that. I¡¯m sure you didn¡¯t mean that people shouldn¡¯t work together, or that a successful society isn¡¯t everyone¡¯s responsibility¡­ So, I guess what I¡¯m asking is¡­ what did you mean by that?¡± he asked. Nero suddenly felt the ether in the area practically grind to a halt. Glancing around, he could see that the man¡¯s question had earned the attention of everyone within hearing distance¡­ and with how well people could hear in this crazy world, and how much they were paying attention to him, that was just about everybody. ¡®Great¡­. Just great,¡¯ Nero complained to himself, suppressing the urge to roll his eyes or pinch the bridge of his nose in response to the sudden headache he was feeling. Turning to look at the man, he sensed a powerful essence field being down on him. Tilting slightly to the side, he saw Knight Angleton standing off in the distance with his arms crossed with the most intense expression he¡¯d ever seen on the man¡¯s face. Nervously licking his lips, Nero realized he better choose his words very carefully. The last thing he needed was that monster of a man going from a fanatic follower to a torch-wielding lunatic screaming about heresy. Looking up at the man, Nero replied, ¡°OK. I can understand how you might interpret what I said as not giving a shit about other people, and that is your right. However, that¡¯s not what I meant.¡± Seeing as how multiple people were standing in place, clearly waiting for him to say more, Nero felt the emotional weight of multiple essence fields bearing down on him. He really missed the times when he could just argue with Nick in a lab over a cup of coffee. Sighing, he decided to just get it over with. He just needed to bullshit a bit, and not get carried away. He could do that. Hopping up onto his trusty tree stump stool, he addressed the entire crowd, ¡°I think you are all living under the mistaken belief that you can only be a good person if that¡¯s all you are. I¡¯m not going to tell you how to live your lives, as I sure as hell won¡¯t be listening to you about how you think I should be living mine. But, society is about realizing that we¡¯re all in this together. You don¡¯t have to be a ¡®good¡¯ person because some asshole in a chair tells you to. You should be a good person because it makes you feel good to be one. When you help someone with something, it doesn¡¯t have to be some sort of sacrifice for the greater good. It can be a selfish act because everything you do is actually pretty selfish. Hell, look at the economy. The only way an economy works is if everyone gets something out of a deal. Someone makes bread, they sell the bread, and if the bread is too expensive, the customers won¡¯t buy it. It¡¯s the same thing with good deads. When you do something nice for someone, the reason you do it should be because you think it¡¯s worth doing, not because of some arbitrary moral decision made by some asshole up in a tower telling you that you should. When you give a hungry person some food, it¡¯s because it makes you feel good to help. You shouldn¡¯t HAVE to give them your food, it needs to be your decision.¡± Still feeling the attention pressing down on him, Nero felt his inner troll bucking out of his control. Rubbing his hands through his hard, he shouted, ¡°God dammit. I don¡¯t want to be the one explaining this to you. I¡¯m not your dad or your moral authority. Just¡­ don¡¯t be an asshole to each other because you don¡¯t want other people to be assholes to you. How hard is that?¡± Fed up with his mini-rant, Nero hopped off his tree stump, picked it up, and threw it over his shoulder. Completely done with the situation, he began stomping off while ignoring all the looks he was receiving. Realizing that this kind of thing was just going to keep happening if he didn¡¯t find somewhere to hide, he altered his essence field to blend into the surroundings, fading away into the crowd. Thinking about what he¡¯d just said, he realized he¡¯d just accidentally ¡®preached¡¯ at them¡­ like an idiot. ¡®OK. That went a little off the rails,¡¯ he thought to himself. He was the kind of guy who was used to being able to share his opinions on life and moral responsibility without having to think about anybody taking him seriously. He could argue against the belief that you had to be a religious nutjob in order to not be an asshole all he wanted from the comfort of his recliner while sipping a beer. But now, people were in danger of LISTENING to him, and he had no idea what he could do about it. Granted, he had carefully constructed his beliefs over his entire life through careful arguments over the internet. Sometimes, he¡¯d play the troll, stirring up the threads to see how people reacted. But, in his head, he always filtered what he was reading through what he considered logical and reasonable. He could play the asshole whenever he wanted, while not letting himself ¡®become¡¯ the asshole, or so he thought. Now, there was no time off. Everything he said was under the microscope, and people were taking him seriously. It was infuriating. Was he never again going to be able to mock people without someone believing he was being serious? Would he never again be able to rant about the military-industrial complex and political interests interfering with society without causing a riot? Honestly, this was the worst-case scenario for someone like Nero. People weren¡¯t supposed to take him seriously¡­ if they did¡­ he¡¯d end up destroying the entire damn world. It would be freaking anarchy! Practically having a panic attack, he found himself collapsing onto his tree stump behind a few crates while holding his head in his hands and trying to catch his breath. ¡°Do you really believe that?¡± asked a voice from his left. Nearly jumping out of his skin in fright, Nero fell over the side and onto his ass. Looking up in shock to see Academian Quincy standing over him with a curious expression on his face, Nero shouted, ¡°What the fuck man!?! I thought I was hiding¡­ hidden¡­ whatever!¡± Waving his hand as if Nero¡¯s pathetic attempts at essence concealment didn¡¯t matter, he said, ¡°Yes, yes. You were sufficiently hidden. Now, if you don¡¯t mind, I¡¯d really like you to answer the question. Do you really not consider duty, honor, and humanity a sufficient reason to act for the betterment of all?¡± Feeling his heartrate slowly backing down to normal, Nero stood up to pat himself down and glare up at the older mage. Maintaining eye contact the entire time, he reached over to collect his tree stump, sending it back into his personal space. When he was done, he placed his hands on his hips and said, ¡°I get what you''re asking, and also understand the danger of putting that kind of belief out there for the masses. I don¡¯t know what to tell you. I absolutely don¡¯t want to ruin this little slice of paradise you¡¯ve all created, but I believe what I believe.¡± Sighing heavily, he broke eye contact to stare up into the sky in defeat. ¡°It¡¯s like this. I believe that everything everyone does is by definition a selfish act. People delude themselves into thinking they''re doing it for some grander reason, but that is just so they can sleep at night. Recognizing that you are doing things for yourself is important. That doesn¡¯t mean you can¡¯t be a good person. It just means that you realize you''re being a good person because you WANT to be, not because someone told you to. Society is everyone deciding to work together, right? I don¡¯t see why it has to be any more complicated than that. Don¡¯t be a dick, and focus on your own shit¡­ that¡¯s my life philosophy. When I see something that pisses me off, I do something about it. Not because I feel some kind of moral outrage, but because I want to. It¡¯s like adventuring. Someone has a problem they¡¯re willing to pay to have solved. I get to feel like a hero and be paid for it. If I were really rich, I¡¯d set up some charities and give to the less fortunate so I would no longer feel guilty living in my sick-ass mansion, sipping on expensive drinks, and enjoying the good life. But, it¡¯s about how I feel¡­ nobody else¡¯s opinion should matter. But now, people are listening to me, and trying to be like me. I¡¯m like a social influencer or something, and I¡¯m freaking out man. I¡¯m not cut out for this shit. Like, if I keep making fun of your dumbass light hat, are you going to suddenly agree with me and take it off? That would immediately take the fun out of giving you shit about it. These assholes are ruining my fantasy world by actually listening to me!¡± Academian Quincy stared down at Nero in silence, his facial expressions giving absolutely nothing away. For several long seconds, the quiet stretched out, giving Nero the opportunity to notice the tension in his shoulders and the sweat running down the back of his neck. Finally saying something, Academian Quincy quietly noted, ¡°I actually think you make a very convincing argument. What you said isn¡¯t all that different than the founding principles on which our kingdom was built. It¡¯s why our cities are left on their own, to rise and fall under their own power, and it''s the responsibility of every citizen of Oglivarch to wake up every morning, choosing to work together so that the kingdom keeps running. Everyone is responsible for their own life, and any duty they choose to accept is worthy of admiration for their sacrifice. You haven¡¯t said anything that is all that inflammatory. I don¡¯t actually see what you¡¯re so worried about.¡± Nero listened in stunned silence, struggling to understand what Academian Quincy was telling him. When the man finished, Nero¡¯s blank stare was all he received in response. That was until Nero lost it, and began shouting at the top of his lungs. ¡°What do you mean it wasn¡¯t inflammatory? I¡¯m advocating chaos! A world where everyone is out for themselves! Are you all freaking out of your minds! The people in charge have to control the masses, brainwashing them into believing that they need to sacrifice for the greater good! What kind of messed up society would you have if everyone just looked out for numero uno? The people in charge can¡¯t be telling the truth¡­ it would bring down everything! It would be bedlam! City¡¯s would fall! Prices would rise! Nobles would become warlords faster than a stripper grabbing a C-note!¡± Panting heavily¡­ Nero¡¯s shoulders slumped before finishing quietly, ¡°You all are so God damn crazy, I just can¡¯t take it anymore. None of this makes any damn sense. Let¡¯s just go back to Dorchester, sign up some morons willing to follow me underground, and kill some clone-baby kobalds. Hopefully, some ultra-violence will make me feel better about having to live in the same plane of existence with all of you lunatics.¡± Academian Quincy awkwardly patted Nero on the shoulder, having no idea what to say to the excitable young man. Chapter 226 - We are the sum of our experiences. While waiting in the teleport room for the delegation from Hennings to arrive, City-Lord Cosgrave finally had enough time to get her thoughts in order. It had been a hectic past few hours, but she¡¯d managed to get everything handled¡­ mostly. With barely any more warning than ¡®Dwarves Are Coming!¡¯, she¡¯d had to organize everything in a rush while having the situation summarized for her by the few people who knew what was going on. Ambasidorial quarters had needed to be arranged, servants and liaisons chosen, and a dedicated guard force assigned, along with a hundred other things. She was bound to have missed something. Which of course was why she found herself struggling to maintain her regal expression as she listened to her aid, Jessica Chandler, once again going over the most recent updates on the ¡®situation¡¯ she needed to address. ¡°As we were already made aware, the dwarves had chosen our city for the experimental region-sharing program. But, we¡¯ve finally heard back from Lord Bennings, and I can confirm that the paperwork was fast-tracked through the Capital¡¯s Tower of Law along with the Department of Expansion in the Royal Palace.¡± Trying and failing to keep her tone calm and collected, City-lord Cosgrave snarled, ¡°And nobody saw fit to alert us to the timetable changing?¡± Wincing, Ms. Chandler replied, ¡°Well, they did¡­ technically. However, it seems the ambassador our people were in contact with has been replaced as the head of the dwarven colonization team. In his place, the dwarven kings have chosen to appoint one of their fallen kings rather than raise up a new one. From what little we know, he¡¯s the one who pushed the project forward, and also the reason why we won¡¯t have to temporarily house the dwarves in the city, other than the upper echelons that is. Even then, they don¡¯t plan to stay long. From what I understand, they plan to head directly to their mountain and begin setting up their version of our astra-teleporters. I believe that¡¯s what all those supplies they requested will be for, but that is merely supposition.¡± City-lord Cosgrave could just imagine the headaches the people in the capital were putting up with having to deal with the overly-impulsive dwarves. Taking a deep breath to cover the sigh she almost let escape, she couldn¡¯t help but worry about the upcoming headaches she would have now that they were coming here. Realizing that Ms. Chandler had mentioned that she¡¯d been in contact with Lord Bennings, City-lord Cosgrave turned to her and asked curiously, ¡°How did they end up dealing with the fact that the mountain in question is currently housing the remains of what is now Lord Walker¡¯s mining town?¡± After coughing nervously into her hand to clear her throat, Ms. Chandler replied, ¡°Well, they didn¡¯t.¡± Seeing the City-lord staring at her in confusion, she clarified, ¡°What I mean to say is that the reason Lord Bennings took so long to get back to us was because she was trying to find the paperwork that she¡¯d assumed had been misplaced. Unfortunately, it seems that no one from the capital bothered to check who currently owns the mountain, as they just assumed that now that the line of Dorchen is gone, the mountain would have been returned to the city. She was¡­ unhappy, and made it clear that the matter needs to be addressed as soon as possible.¡± Before the City Lord could dig into that delightful complication, she felt the ether in the room begin to quake. Forcing herself to pay attention to the moment, she half-listened to the transportation room operators calling out their checks while they coordinated with Hennings to stabilize the connection. She felt the rest of the attending nobles alongside her tense, none of them ever having met a dwarf and therefore not knowing what to expect. Not that she was faring any better, the one experience she¡¯d had with dwarves was seeing them from a distance while she¡¯d been studying in Hennings. Everything she knew about dwarves she¡¯d read in a book. She let herself feel the stable presence of Guard Dalton and the Dorchester forces here to act as an honor guard for their distinguished guests. The man¡¯s essence field was a calming presence she¡¯d grown used to relying on. Blinking away the flash of the teleporter, she saw the delegation already stepping down from the platform. At the head of the group were several humans whom she assumed were here to act as official representatives of the kingdom. Luckily, they didn¡¯t seem to have brought along any guards or, heavens forbid, Populators. As she met the eyes of the man she assumed was in charge, she was about to offer her greetings when he was awkwardly shoved aside by a four-foot-tall, fully armored, and heavily bearded, what she could only assume was a dwarf. Being able to easily see over his head, she noticed several other dwarves dressed in everything from robes to full plate, each one demonstrating varying examples of how to successfully scowl. ¡°You City-lord Cosgrave, the human in charge of this city?¡± the small but ridiculously wide dwarf barked as if he wanted confirmation. Right as she was about to respond, he continued, ¡°Greetings to ya. Always nice to meet the neighbors. I¡¯m sure we¡¯ll get along well enough. My clan will soon be welcoming you as a trading partner, offering metalworks and bound enchantments in exchange for food and supplies to get us going. Now, that¡¯s the pleasantries out of the way. I¡¯m sure you¡¯ll want to talk more later¡­ you humans always do. But, there will be plenty of time for that after I get my clan settled. For now, how¡¯s about you show me my mountain so I can get started.¡± Struggling to contain the frown at the little dwarf¡¯s tone, she instead managed to settle for a grimace when she said, ¡°Yes, well¡­ about that¡­¡± ¡ª-- Nero turned to Nick and offered him the blankest expression he could while stating incredulously, ¡°They built¡­ a road¡­ an actual, real, multiple lane road¡­ up a mountain¡­ through the wilds¡­ in less than a week.¡± Nick kept walking, ignoring Nero¡¯s tone with a wry smile on his face. ¡°Yes. They did.¡± Nero found himself unable to simply let it go. ¡°Fine¡­ let¡¯s set aside that they build a road to the middle of nowhere, just so that they could cut down the travel time for their supply train by a single day. How about instead you explain to me how they built it so quickly.¡± Academian Quincy, who had been walking alongside Nero opposite Nick, replied, ¡°They enchanted it.¡± Nero turned his head to give the academian a good ¡®old-fashioned death stare. ¡°No shit¡­ but maybe you can elaborate a little?¡± While they were chatting, Nero was focusing about half his brainpower on probing the road underneath his feet. With his improved ability to see and understand the essence flows through the ether, he found the road utterly and completely fascinating¡­ completely illogical and nonsensical, but nonetheless fascinating. The last time he¡¯d been on one, he hadn¡¯t noticed how freakin¡¯ weird they were. He¡¯d thought they were just roads¡­ not¡­ whatever this is. Back when his forces finally broke camp and began heading back toward Dorchester, he¡¯d already known about the ¡®road¡¯ the army had built. But, he¡¯d expected a trail at best. Maybe a cleared and flattened path to make travel easier for the soldiers and supplies. What he hadn¡¯t expected was a full-fledged road that was every bit as well-made as the road he¡¯d found himself waking up on those many months ago. In fact, if he wasn¡¯t mistaken, this road may be a bit bigger than the one he remembered. Having it abruptly begin at the edge of the army¡¯s encampment had nearly had him questioning his senses. It took seeing multiple people interacting with it before he decided to believe his eyes and accept the reality of it actually existing. Easily slipping into his lecture mode, Academian Quincy said, ¡°Well, roads are essential for travel between cities, towns, and villages. They are quite literally the veins that allow the heartblood of our kingdom to flow. Without them, caravans carrying essence crystals would be constantly under threat of assault from the monsters and beasts in the wilds, and travel would require so many resources that it would be counterproductive.¡± Unauthorized reproduction: this story has been taken without approval. Report sightings. From the other side of Nero, Nick added, ¡°Without roads, civilization would be limited to the regional resources they had available. That¡¯s why the first cities were so isolationist, and why warlords were so intent on fighting amongst themselves.¡± Nero, not remotely caring about hearing the Oglivarchian edition of ¡®The History of Roads¡¯, was about to sarcastically demand them to answer his question rather than provide more useless information nobody but them would appreciate. But luckily, Academian Quincy cut him off before he could. ¡°Roads were developed so long ago that there is actually no clear answer as to who truly came up with the idea. You see, roads are complicated demonstrations of the earliest efforts of group-casting, or more accurately, team-enchanting,¡± he said proudly. Taking up the explanation, Nick said, ¡°While the enchantment itself isn¡¯t all that powerful, it¡¯s the way it interacts with the ether that is ingenious. If you take some time, you¡¯ll probably be able to sense the essence flows adapting to the road structure. A well-made road has many features, namely easing localized essence distribution, preventing animal and mons-¡± Seeing where this was going, Nero interrupted Nick before he could really get going. ¡°Yeah, yeah. I read all about that. Roads are safe to travel because they are enchanted to help deter monsters and disentivise local wildlife. I¡¯ve already chosen to call bullshit on that considering the first thing I saw when I woke up on a road was a pack of wolves chowing down on the dead bodies of this body¡¯s former caravan members the former me was traveling with. Besides, that¡¯s not what I was asking anyway. I wanted to know how it was made. Nothing in the books I read mentioned anything about roads being built this quickly. Granted, I didn¡¯t exactly understand the spell form at the end of the chapter, but I would have probably paid more attention if it had mentioned that I could build an entire damn road in a week!¡± Nick scoffed and began to reply, ¡°The wolves were affected by the enchantment on the road. It was just that the availability of fresh meat was suffic-¡± Academian Quincy spoke over what Nick was saying, ¡°Don¡¯t bother. I doubt he¡¯ll take your word for it.¡± Addressing Nero once again, he continued, ¡°Roads can be created by an individual, but it¡¯s not recommended or practical. It takes an enormous amount of center to imbue them with an identity that will last, and for that reason, team enchanting is the preferred method of their creation. You see, enchanting at its core, is a form of spell casting so powerful that the world starts to ¡®believe¡¯ that the spell is, and always has been, how the world works. It¡¯s for that reason that lower-level regions like Dorchester tend not to have many high-level enchanted items.¡± Nero, sort of following what he was saying, asked, ¡°I¡¯m not seeing the connection. I get that overpowering a spell with so much center could ¡®create¡¯ an identity in an object, but what does that have to do with essence density?¡± Nick replied, ¡°It has everything to do with essence density! In high essence areas, it¡¯s easier to convince the world that spell effects aren¡¯t uncommon.¡± Gesturing at the satchel Nero had gotten from Jennings, he said, ¡°Take that enchanted bag the archmage gave you, do you know how much center someone had to infuse into that thing for its identity to be strong enough to survive in a region like this? Of course you don¡¯t, because you haven¡¯t even started studying the basics.¡± As he finished, he facepalmed himself, fed up with the contradictory nature of Nero¡¯s totally uninformed mastery over magic. Furrowing his brow so hard his face hurt, Nero asked, ¡°Shouldn¡¯t that work the other way? Wouldn¡¯t it be easier to overpower reality in an area with less essence?¡± Academian replied, ¡°Well, yes¡­ but no. Temporary effects like casting are much easier in high essence areas, as the essence is practically begging to be of use. However, in order for reality to maintain its cohesion, those areas are much more firm in their identities. So, once overpowered, or rewritten, the ambient essence can be altered quite easily into whatever form a caster wishes. In less dense areas, the world is much more ¡®loose¡¯ with its physical formations, and therefore much more difficult to convince.¡± While what they were saying sounded logical, Nero still thought that their theory was incredibly backward. And worse yet, he still hadn¡¯t gotten his damned question answered. Nick and Academian Quincy shared a look with each other over Nero¡¯s head, silently agreeing to let him mentally work through what they¡¯d just told him. Meanwhile, Nero¡¯s brain was practically overheating as he¡¯d decided that the easiest way for him to understand enchanting was to just study the freakin¡¯ giant enchanted road he was currently walking on. Much like the mud walls the kobalds had made, he could tell that it was a construct. Actually, it was more like the massive building they¡¯d made¡­ all one piece¡­ kinda. He could see stutters and imperfections as he walked further and further along the road. It was like the construct wasn¡¯t intended to be uniform, or perhaps it was just poorly made. His senses probed deeper into the essence making up the road¡¯s stone, giving him the impression of multiple robed men and women walking together as the road formed behind them. He could feel the memory of them working together to cast the spell, funneling their centers, imbuing their ¡®belief¡¯ that the road was real. He didn¡¯t stumble, or outwardly display any change of expression, but on the inside, his mind was reeling. He knew he was delving, and considering how poorly his last attempt had gone, he knew he had to be careful. It took more effort than he thought it would to stop himself from going any deeper. Somehow, he just knew that if he tried, he could easily follow the road''s identity back to each one of the mages who¡¯d created it. It was like they¡¯d left part of themselves behind, giving something of themselves to permanently trick the world into believing the road had always been here. He even got to see the spell they were using¡­ a simple tier 1, basic spell. Most of the functions that made it up, he didn¡¯t recognize, but he did see some elemental aspects that looked familiar. But it was the way the spell was held together in a series that really caught his attention. It was like seeing another demonstration of the community shield spell, but at the same time different. Yet, in the aftermath of their casting, the road existed. He could see it. It was real. They¡¯d worked together, and now it was here. When he compared what it looked like in the ether with the ground underneath it and around it, he couldn¡¯t tell the difference. Suddenly, he understood. The world made stuff with essence. People could use their essence to make stuff. If there is a lot of essence in the ether, the world has to use more essence to make its stuff stable, and so people in those regions had more solid ¡®world¡¯ stuff already there to work with. It was just like people. Higher level people had more center, or more to the point, their identity was made up of more essence than lower level people. That¡¯s why it was harder to alter them with outside spells. But, it¡¯s also why higher-level people were better able to alter the world around them than lower-level people. Granted, he hadn¡¯t figured everything out. He didn¡¯t suddenly create a unified theorem of essence or anything, there were many questions he still didn¡¯t have answers to. Like, since enchanting a permanent spell into something made from matter from a high-essence area was easier, then why didn¡¯t they just create stuff and then export it? Would the lower-density area leach essence away from it, thereby ruining the enchantment? Is that why the bag Jennings had given him was so impressive? Also, how does this realization affect enchantments that make stuff out of nothing? Both the roads and that one example Jennings had shown him were examples of mages pulling matter out of the ether and ¡®making¡¯ something. Was that easier or harder to do in high-essence areas? What would happen if you made something in one place, and then took it somewhere else? Would it fall apart? Could you just be riding your wagon on the way to the capital and have the damn thing break back down into essence, leaving you sitting on your ass in the middle of the road being mocked by the incredulous stare your horse was giving you? Nero was absolutely positive that there was some philosophical or ¡®self-helpy¡¯ way to look at it, but he did his best not to think about it. Having mentally wrapped his head around what little of the concept he understood was more than enough. Yet, despite his best efforts, and probably due to how long he¡¯d been living alongside the locals, he couldn¡¯t stop himself from thinking about it. ¡®If enchanting is no different than spell casting, and spell casting is nothing more than changing the world by giving something of yourself, then knowledge and opportunity only reduce the costs. In the end, it¡¯s your ¡®will¡¯ and ¡®commitment¡¯ that make up the deciding factor. Higher level areas are like 1st world countries, filled with opportunity, a place easy to leave your mark. But, in lower-level areas, it takes more of yourself to change the world when that opportunity isn¡¯t there,¡¯ he thought to himself. Immediately, he slapped his cheeks a few times with both of his hands, both to punish himself for sounding like a tool and to snap himself out of it. Feeling the shock at his abrupt self-abuse from both Academian Quincy and Nick, Nero explained, ¡°Sorry, don¡¯t mind me. I just figured out that life is just a spell cast by your soul on the world, and your level is basically just an insanely slow enchantment your experiences are powering¡­ you know, reinforcing your identity until you¡¯re finally complete. I¡¯m sure you guys already have a clever and pointlessly complicated metaphor for it, but yeah, I¡¯m just now getting it. The world is just a suggestion, and how we live our lives is the proof of who we are. Right? Something like that?¡­ the literal definition of ¡®experience¡¯ applies to who we are as we develop. It¡¯s kinda obvious when you think about it¡­ God damn this world is dumb.¡± Not understanding that the shock and confusion Nick and Academian Quincy were feeling was no longer about his outburst, Nero ignored them and silently continued contemplating how whoever created this world took metaphors way too seriously. Meanwhile, the two older mages were deep in thought, contemplating what Nero had said and subsequently questioning their understanding of reality as a result. Chapter 227 - Home is where they tell you it is. While sitting at a desk in the newly reopened Walker Estate, Vera paused what she was doing the moment she felt Nick¡¯s ping. Mentally checking the time, she barely managed to keep the smile off her face at the fact that he was arriving on schedule and without issue. Opening the connection, she said, ¡°Dear, I¡¯m happy to see you made it back to Dorchester in one piece. Any problems during the trip?¡± She could feel Nick¡¯s affection radiating over the link as he replied, ¡°No, no problems. The area has been cleared, and the army managed to put in a road, so the trip was easy.¡± For the next few minutes, she chatted away with him, enjoying the feeling of his mind mingling with her own. It was rather surprising to her how much she¡¯d missed him. Although they¡¯d spoken over the communication orb, and updated each other on what they were up to, brief communications like that were more akin to information dumps than actual conversations. Now that Nick was back in Dorchester, it was nice to be able to finally reconnect. Unfortunately, there were pressing matters that needed to be addressed, so she eventually steered the conversation to more important things. She asked Nick to provide her with a deeper, more informative, first-hand account of his adventures alongside the wackos along with his evaluations of both the initial members and those who¡¯d joined during the fighting. She made sure to thoroughly study the memory engrams he was sending, making mental notes concerning who stood out and who needed to be watched. But mostly, she focused on the young man she¡¯d ended up tying her house¡¯s future to. Nero, or she should say, Lord Walker was now a war hero. The Thought Hub had been buzzing with accounts of his heroics and his victory over the kobalds. Therefore, she needed to know the actual truth behind the rumors in order to keep ahead of the public opinion. While part of her attention was focused on Nicholas¡¯ ongoing account of Lord Walker¡¯s ether-shattering final spell, she mentally reviewed the pings she¡¯d received from Lord Walker. It seemed the moment Lord Walker had gotten within the range of the Dorchester Thought Hub, he¡¯d uploaded his signatures to the documents she¡¯d sent him. He¡¯d also addressed each of her updates with simple, but sufficient, statements about how he expected her to proceed. It was an encouraging sign, and one that she hoped meant he¡¯d begun to take his responsibilities more seriously. Of course, that feeling only lasted a moment, as Nick had moved forward in his recounting and had now sent her his memory of Lord Walker¡¯s morning address to House Walker¡¯s leadership. ¡®So, he really intends to let others handle everything, merely providing the direction. I suppose I shouldn¡¯t be surprised,¡¯ she thought to herself while stifly a grimace. What was surprising was how happy Nick seemed to be about the young man¡¯s proclamation. Interrupting the memory engram she was receiving, she asked, ¡°Nicholas, haven¡¯t you considered what it would mean if he loses control of House Walker? We agreed to tie House Verina to him as a vassal. A mismanaged House Walker will result in our own sharing its fate.¡± Nick replied easily, ¡°Yes, I¡¯m aware. But have you considered that despite Nero having put Cathleen in charge, you¡¯re the one who is actually going to be running House Walker? She is only focused on force deployments and troop organizations. Take another look at the memory I sent you and you¡¯ll see that they never even mentioned anything outside of their combat plans. Nero expects you to be handling the businesses and political side of House Walker. For that, I recommend you get in contact with Ms. Keening and the citizen interaction team she set up. That woman you found is quite bright and surprisingly motivated.¡± Nodding along, she realized her husband had a point. Lord Walker wasn¡¯t interested in learning to lead a house, that much was obvious regardless of how much she wanted it to be otherwise. So, she¡¯d just have to take the reigns. As House Verena was essentially the Dorchester branch of House Walker anyway, she might as well act as the house head until such time as the leadership leaves for another city. ¡°Yes, I see what you¡¯re saying. I just¡­ I guess I¡¯d hoped that he would have grown up a little after having spent some time outside the walls. He has such an instinctual business sense that it seems like a waste for him to focus on this ¡®adventure¡¯ nonsense,¡± she replied sadly. She felt Nick¡¯s emotional presence trying to reassure her, as he softly replied, ¡°I know, dear. But, as Nero says, he is who he is. Try not to let your hopes for who he¡¯ll become influence how you feel about him now. All we can do is trust that he knows his path, and be there for him to help him however we can.¡± Vera couldn¡¯t help it, and her mask broke into a small smile. ¡°You¡¯re right, of course. I shouldn¡¯t condemn his choices, as his path is his own. After all, he¡¯s done nothing but help us walk our own since he¡¯s arrived here.¡± Confused, Nick replied, ¡°I don¡¯t think he¡¯s helped us so much as completely diverted us from where we were headed. We had plans, and since he walked into our lives, how many of those plans are still viable?¡± Vera chuckled and replied, ¡°Well, the ultimate goal was always for me to lead our house into the upper echelons of the ladder, while you transitioned toward your private studies. You were never interested in going much higher into the leadership of the Center Research, and I was just waiting for the right time to leave Center Intake so I could focus on politics.¡± Nick replied, ¡°Well, that¡¯s true enough, I suppose. We were just waiting for your shipping business to grow enough to provide our backing when I took up my lordship.¡± Replying swiftly, Vera asked, ¡°And with Lord Walker¡¯s support, hasn¡¯t it?¡± She could feel Nicholas contemplating what she¡¯d said and decided to go in for the conversational kill shot, ¡°If we remove our bias concerning who we think Nero is to us, and just look at our lives objectively, you¡¯ll see that we¡¯ve progressed further along our path in the past few months than we have in the decades prior to his arrival. We should focus on our own lives, and let our young friend focus on his own. He has been and is a wonderful ally and friend, and we owe it to him to treat him with respect and understanding.¡± Vera could feel Nick¡¯s annoyance when he replied, ¡°Wasn¡¯t that what I was saying in the first place? Stop turning the conversation around on me! You know how I hate that!¡± Replying innocently, she said, ¡°I have no idea what you mean, dear. Now, how long until you get here, I need to prepare the estate for your arrival.¡± Having long since gotten used to accepting this type of defeat, Nick replied sadly, ¡°Around thirty minutes probably. We¡¯ll be there soon. Do you want me to pick you up anything while I¡¯m out?¡± Vera¡¯s small smile grew a little wider on her face, having missed the feeling of poking at her wizened and politically inept husband. ¡ª-- Together they walked in silence for over ten minutes before Academian Quincy asked, ¡°Lord Walker, when you say that leveling is like enchanting yourself, you aren¡¯t talking about casting an enchantment on yourself or anything, are you? I only ask because that¡¯s an incredibly dangerous route of advancement that has led to more than one mage being corrupted and subsequently damned to one of the hells. Of course, that¡¯s only when they aren¡¯t caught and executed for their crimes before they have time to ruin their souls.¡± Nero, having been brought out of his thoughts by the question, turned to look up at the man with confusion before parsing through what he¡¯d just asked and finally understanding the man¡¯s confusion. Chuckling, Nero replied, ¡°No, nothing like that. I¡¯m sure some dumbasses try and use essence from the ether or maybe other planes¡­ just shoving it into their center, expecting to gain a few levels. It probably works too¡­ for a while at least¡­ technically. But, obviously, that would turn them into monsters. Hell, that¡¯s basically what monsters ARE, that is if I¡¯m understanding those essence spawn point things correctly.¡± Nick started to reply, ¡°Well, no¡­ not exactly. Monsters are dif-¡± Ignoring Nick, as he was not remotely interested in the specifics, and already having made up his mind, Nero continued, ¡°What I meant was that as a person lives, they either take in or generate essence due to their actions and thoughts, infusing that essence into their centers by giving it meaning. That essence becomes theirs, associated with their personality or identity. From there, the more personalized essence a person has, the higher their level, and the more ¡®real¡¯ they become. Higher levels are more real, right? Just like the matter in higher level areas? So, it kind of makes sense that enchanting works the way you say it does. Since matter in a higher level area is a higher level, it¡¯s harder to change, but a lot more resistant to outside influence once it has been. Low-level areas are like clay, easy to change, but hard to keep together. Again, just like people. Young people, or people at low levels haven¡¯t really figured out who they are yet. As they get older, and have more experience, they figure out who they are, making them stubborn and resistant to outside influences. I bet that¡¯s why so many people ¡®fall off their path¡¯ or whatever. They start acting in a way that they don¡¯t resonate with. You know, giving in to what the world wants them to be¡­ letting the opportunities to be who they really are pass them by. Sheep, going about their lives, hating every minute of it. The genuine version of this novel can be found on another site. Support the author by reading it there. Don¡¯t let anyone tell you who you are, right? That¡¯s like leveling 101¡­ Your path is your own or whatever.¡± Nero felt both Nick and Academian Quincy thinking hard about what he¡¯d said, probably just itching to explain to him what he was missing, or in what way he was wrong. But thankfully, they kept their opinions to themselves, most likely having learned their lessons about how he reacts to unasked lecture topics. As a result, they continued for quite some time in silence, giving Nero the opportunity to look around. Nero spent the trip examining the troops and potential members of his house with his essence field. He saw several people he recognized, others he didn¡¯t. Their ages were all over the place, as were the densities of their essence fields. He¡¯d learned to ballpark how strong someone was by their field, while also knowing that he shouldn¡¯t rely too heavily on that kind of thing as it could be manipulated. Hell, all of the evaluator¡¯s fields fluctuated between practically non-existent and utterly terrifying depending on how much effort they were putting into hiding them. Nero had yet to see a pattern behind their random essence containment, but he was sure there was one. He just hadn¡¯t figured it out. Regardless, overall he felt a growing sense of community building up around him, everyone¡¯s fields slowly seeping into each other as their familiarity with each other grew. Offhandedly, he wondered if in the future groups of soldiers would grow into mob units. He could just imagine them being real-world examples of gaming units composed of hundreds of soldiers. It was weird how the world seemed to go out of its way to warp reality into an imitation of the representations he used to know, but he was slowly growing used to it. Everything here was a metaphor. That wasn¡¯t to say he didn¡¯t find it all annoying on a fundamental level. As far as he was concerned, it was like with every new aspect of the world he learned, whoever had set all this up was deliberately mocking him. Eventually, he and the rest of the troops made it out of the mountains and back into the area outside Dorchester. Surprisingly, he could see the land which had been destroyed by the fighting returning to normal. Rapidly growing trees were already showing up, along with bushes and wildlife. Had it been back home, it would have taken years for this type of recovery, but here¡­ everything was already ¡®respawning¡¯. ¡®Freaky,¡¯ he thought to himself with a shiver. It took longer than he liked, but not as long as he feared before they were back in the outer town around the wall. But, what he saw when they got there was not what he remembered seeing when he¡¯d left. The town was filled to the brim with people moving around and living their lives¡­ clogging the streets like they were at a farmer¡¯s market. Despite how many cheered and waved at their passing, Nero still felt the unjustified urge to lose his shit and shout, ¡®Why aren¡¯t all you assholes at work! Get off the street and get a job!¡¯ Luckily, he managed to suppress that urge and instead asked acidly, ¡°Why is it, every time I come back to the city, there are more people here than when I left?¡± Scoffing, Nick replied, ¡°Nero¡­ please start using your link. I¡¯m getting tired of reminding you about it.¡± Nero turned to glare at the man, replying, ¡°I am, smartass. From the moment we got in range of Dorchester¡¯s thought hub, I¡¯ve been dealing with the pings that were waiting for me. Luckily, most of them were sent ahead by Vera, but I¡¯ve already taken care of all those.¡± Returning Nero¡¯s glare, Nick replied, ¡°Well, did you check the city¡¯s Thought Hub for recent news and opinion pieces? If you had, I¡¯m sure you would have noticed that everyone is talking about the recent immigration problem and the lengths the nobles have gone to combat it since currently using the mountain city for the overflow is out of the question.¡± Not willing to get into a debate, Nero didn¡¯t bother replying. Instead, he put his energy toward what he recalled from having once or twice looked at the city version of the Thought Hub. From what he remembered, it was like an overly cumbersome message board, and without having more information on how it was managed, he didn¡¯t trust it in the least. But, now that he was more familiar with the link and confident enough in his ability to limit its ability to influence his brain¡­ at least not without him at least noticing, he decided to take a better look around the message boards and play ¡®average citizen of Dorchester¡¯ for a day. While the troops and potential members of House Walker made their way through the streets to the closest teleportation hub, Nero fully immersed himself for the first time in the city section of the Thought Hub. Instead of just looking at it as a long list of links and pages, he opened up his mind and dove into the stream of consciousness. And boy was that a mistake. Thousands of conversation threads suddenly categorized themselves as impressions in his head, while associated lists displayed themselves in his mind. Without fully diving in, he wouldn¡¯t have had any idea how to find anything in all this content. But, now that he had, it was like having every single citizen''s Facebook wall presenting itself to him, asking if he was interested in seeing the pictures they¡¯d taken of their kids, while not being too pushy about it. It was like being connected to another brain. One which had memories and structured thoughts that he could interact with at will. For the first time, he finally understood why it was called a ¡®Thought Hub¡¯. Mentally stepping back, he felt the impressions slip away, and his connection to his link returning to normal. The lists and categories were all still there, but he felt nothing from them. It was¡­ dull¡­ uninteresting¡­ lifeless, just like it had been when he¡¯d first poked around on it. ¡®Huh¡­ OK¡­ I¡¯ll admit that¡¯s kind of cool,¡¯ he thought to himself. Diving back in, he surfed around and got a general sense of who people were paying attention to. It was almost like a mental representation of a ¡®recommended for you¡¯ list based on how many people trusted the postings. It was so similar to what he¡¯d recognized while being so totally different than what he¡¯d expected. He mentally looked in on what people had posted, along with seeing the representations of the noble houses and the connections they had. The city itself had several¡­ pages¡­ for lack of a better word. There was so much information just sitting there, just waiting for him to look at it. And all of it was from the first-person perspective of whoever had posted it. There was no illusion of objectivity, as it was quite clear who¡¯d posted what, and where the information was coming from. Had someone posted something they themselves didn¡¯t believe, then the associated feeling would immediately give the lie away. It was brilliant, and yet utterly terrifying. Mentally, Nero immediately began thinking of ways around such a simple trick. All he¡¯d have to do is convince someone of something and then have them post his lies. Granted, people would know it came from him, but he could work through multiple intermediaries and probably hide his trail. He was sure more than a few cleverly duplicitous nobles had already figured that out. Dipping into one of the most respected posters profiles, he saw a recent post from some lady named, Melinda York. She was a distant relation to someone on the council of leadership and apparently loved to gossip. Nero was able to watch a memory engram she¡¯d uploaded of a conversation she¡¯d had with several notable citizens who were ¡®in the know¡¯. It was like watching an episode of ¡®The View¡¯ crossed with a podcast. He ¡®felt¡¯ their opinions as much as he listened to them. While they didn¡¯t necessarily influence him in any way, he could tell the things they were serious about, and what they were unsure of. Also, he couldn¡¯t help but notice the subtle, but quite obvious plugs they were giving to their families'' businesses. The subject of the day was the war with the kobalds, and the effect it had on the city. They covered the strained facilities trying to make room for the immigrating outlying villages. The possible threat of what it could mean to ignore the density shift currently underway. They also discussed the pros and cons of asking for aid from the kingdom, and whether or not Dorchester could survive on its own. At one point, someone brought up the city''s new unique, Lord Walker. Nero found it immensely amusing how divisive the subject was. The subject changed before the arguments about what he represented really got going, but it was enlightening nonetheless. Apparently, many nobles weren¡¯t happy with the new trading posts he¡¯d had Vera set up. When they mentioned their own businesses, he could tell exactly what they were doing. The method of transmission didn¡¯t allow them to lie or obfuscate in any way. Oddly, he knew that somehow each of the people being shown had uploaded their own version of the memory, seamlessly splicing them together to create what he was experiencing. It was like watching a combined first-person perspective from all of them, while not even remotely being confusing. Calling it weird would be an understatement on par with calling triple pepper hot sauce spicy. Honestly, Nero got so caught up in the nuances of what he was seeing that he¡¯d forgotten why he¡¯d logged on to the Thought Hub in the first place. His sense of time and connection to his body dulled, and his thoughts felt separate from his physical body. ¡®It¡¯s like an entire society of influencers¡­ but NOT a nightmare. If I¡¯d ever had doubts about any of this being real, this clinches it. I could NEVER have imagined a world like this. Hell, even having proof of it being true, downloaded directly into my brain, it still isn¡¯t enough for me to truly believe it,¡¯ he thought to himself sarcastically. Barely having paid attention, he was brought out of his fugue by the feeling of the world around him shifting. Blinking away the light from the teleporter he hadn¡¯t noticed he¡¯d taken, he looked down from the ornate stone platform he was now standing on and onto a gravel courtyard filled with patches of perfectly landscaped gardens. Looking around, he saw that he was under a gazebo of some kind, with what looked like massive doors laid down by hinges onto the ground. Had he not been able to get a wide-angle view with his essence field, he¡¯d have no idea what he was looking at. In the distance, he saw what appeared to be the unholy love child born from a tantric sex ritual performed by a massive mansion, a French palatial estate, a castle, and a log cabin. Nero was frozen in place, not comprehending the architectural clusterfuck he was looking at. Feeling a gentle hand on his shoulder guiding him down the overturned door, which had for some reason been turned into a ramp, Nero awkwardly stumbled forward while most of his attention was focused on trying to figure out where he was. Ripping his attention away from the ridiculously large building in the distance, Nero saw Vera walking up to him with that same stern yet blank expression she¡¯d always worn. However, something about her was different, as instead of being in the center-type robes he¡¯d gotten used to seeing her in, she was wearing what looked like battle robes. Behind her, spread out in rows were people dressed in matching elegant uniforms. There must have been fifty of them¡­ maybe a hundred¡­ who knows, as there were a lot of them¡­ and Nero didn¡¯t feel like counting. It was creepy enough how they were all just standing there staring at him. His senses made it very clear that they were all filled with expectation and hope, and the entirety of their attention was focused almost exclusively on him. Coming to a halt directly in front of Nero, Vera said, ¡°Welcome, my lord, to the Walker Estate. If you¡¯ll please follow me, there are some matters that you need to address before you can take your rest.¡± Without another word, she turned around and walked off toward the building in the distance. Nero, after blinking several times to clear his head, turned to Nick, who was conveniently still on his right and said, ¡°She didn¡¯t even say ¡®hi¡¯ to you. What did you do to piss her off?¡± Rolling his eyes in annoyance, Nick replied, ¡°I¡¯ve been talking to her over the link since we arrived in the city. It¡¯s not like she was surprised to see me. What did you expect?¡± Nero shrugged absently, reminding himself once again that he really needed to adapt to the world before something ended up biting him in the ass¡­ again. ¡®The trick¡¯s going to be keeping it together and not losing my damn mind like everyone else around here,¡¯ he thought to himself sourly. Chapter 228 - Home is where your bed is. After coordinating with the household staff to get the troops situated in the guardhouse, Knight Angleton found himself standing on the balcony of his new room, thinking about how he ended up here. Looking out over the well-maintained grounds, he saw combat rings for melee training, variable difficulty obstacle courses, recruit barracks for trainees¡­ anything and everything he needed to forge a powerful private army. It was both eerily similar to the elite training compound he¡¯d recently been asked to run and yet utterly different at the same time. Turning away from the sight, he walked back into the officer¡¯s room he¡¯d taken over. Instead of the militaristic stone walls he¡¯d grown used to, everything was adorned with artistically carved wood and finery. Even the oversized desk looked as if it were worth more than his former yearly salary under the employ of the army. Yet, that wasn¡¯t why he¡¯d signed up to follow Lord Walker. Hearing the door to his office open, he saw Blackwood entering the room with an uncharacteristically professional look on his face. ¡°The rooms are all assigned, and arrangements have been made for tomorrow''s ceremony,¡± he said without preamble before coming to a stop and standing calmly with his hands crossed behind his back. After offering his friend a small nod in greeting, he said, ¡°And their mood?¡± ¡°No problems, sir,¡± he replied quickly before adding in an uncertain tone, ¡°I believe they are still waiting for you to express your opinion.¡± Managing to stop himself from scoffing, Knight Angleton made his way over to the desk and took a seat in what was now his overly stuffed leather chair. ¡°My opinion?¡± he asked sarcastically. Something in his tone must have felt like permission to drop the formalities, as Blackwood¡¯s tense shoulders relented and he returned to his normal relaxed state. Walking lazily over to the desk, he plopped himself down onto one of the guest chairs and threw his feet up on the desk. ¡°Well, yeah. Everyone has been wondering how you¡¯re feeling about what our new lord said last night. You told them that you¡¯d be getting some answers this morning, but then spent the entire trip here lost in thought.¡± Knight Angleton met Blackwood¡¯s gaze across the desk, his stony demeanor clashing with Blackwood¡¯s smirk. Rolling his eyes to break the tension, Blackwood asked, ¡°So¡­ what¡¯s the plan ¡®Knight¡¯ Angleton? We¡¯ve all put in our resignations and agreed to follow you. Are we going through with the oath tomorrow, looking for another sponsor, or forming our own mercenary company? Not to put too fine a point on it, but time is running out, and the troops would like to know what you¡¯re thinking.¡± Tapping his fingers in thought on the arm of the chair, Knight Angleton asked, ¡°What do you think?¡± Blackwood replied immediately, apparently not needing any time to consider his response, ¡°Me? I¡¯m with you regardless of what path you decide we should take. We all recognize that we would have died out there if it weren¡¯t for you. If -¡± ¡°If it weren¡¯t for him,¡± Knight Angleton contradicted him harshly. Nodding in agreement, but continuing, Blackwood said, ¡°Maybe so, but they aren¡¯t his troops just yet. For now, they still follow you. If you were to say that we¡¯ve repaid our debt with our aid during the rest of the assault on the kobalds, no one would disagree with you. However, that being said, if you don¡¯t give them a reason to stay together, many will scatter. In fact, unless you specifically ask them not to, most will probably choose to take the oath to House Walker as they liked what he said.¡± Keeping the surprise off his face, Knight Angleton asked, ¡°And you? Do you like what he said?¡± Sensing how serious Knight Angleton meant the question to be, Blackwood paused for a moment to choose his words carefully. ¡°I can¡¯t say that I disagree with him. While I¡¯ve always respected the knight¡¯s code, I haven¡¯t always agreed with the many interpretations I¡¯ve read about its application. As you know, I was raised in the nobility. So, when I tell you that duty and honor should be considered an afterthought, and instead urge you to look out for yourself first, you should know what I mean.¡± Blackwood bit back a chuckle at the grimace on Knight Angleton¡¯s face. The man was never comfortable acknowledging the darker aspects of humanity. Instead of letting him respond, he continued, ¡°Lord Walker made a point of telling everyone that he wasn¡¯t going to lead them or lie to them about what it was they were signing up for. He went out of his way to state his goals clearly and concisely, telling everyone exactly how he intended to use his house¡¯s forces. He also basically commanded everyone to think for themselves and figure out what kind of life THEY wanted to live, as he isn¡¯t interested in mindless followers. The young man didn¡¯t appeal to their humanity, or call in the debts of honor everyone clearly owed him. He made their service voluntary and demanded they understand the inherent responsibility behind that choice. I¡¯ve heard many speeches from people in authority¡­ nobles, commanders, the general, even my father. But, what Lord Walker said sounded more like something one of the founders would have said. For that, people respect him. They want to follow him, to see where his path will lead. Many of them had given their lives to the army, and having that trust betrayed has left them feeling empty. Instead of trying to fill that void, Lord Walker demanded that they take control of their lives and remember that their path is their own. And for that, I respect him.¡± Seeing as Blackwood was finished, Knight Angleton said, ¡°While Lord Walker has shown his preference for duty and honor, he¡¯s also made it clear that he considers them a luxury he¡¯ll only afford himself when he can. If we do choose to follow him, we¡¯ll be nothing more than mercenaries.¡± Blackwood scoffed loudly, before responding with a tone full of mockery, ¡°And being part of the army was different, how?¡± ¡ª-- Having acquired the estate as a reward for his inexplicable, though successful, participation in the noble war between House Dorchen and the city¡¯s leadership, Nero was surprised to see so many people happy to see him. He¡¯d been an absentee employer at best, and he¡¯d expected to be receiving glares filled with accusation rather than the worshipful stares everyone was throwing at him. While Vera was pointing out the historical significance of the gigantic portrait hanging on the wall, Nero nodded along, feigning interest in what she was saying. Yet, most of his attention remained on the gaggle of servants who were following them around. Through his essence field, he knew they were there, just waiting for the opportunity to be useful. He found it more than a little creepy. Seeing as Vera had reached a natural stopping point in her speech, Nero took the opportunity to change the subject. ¡°Hey, Vera, I get that you want me to know the¡­ ¡®house¡¯... I¡¯ll be living in and all, but is this kind of in-depth tour really necessary? Can¡¯t I look all this stuff up on the household Thought Hub¡­ which I¡¯m apparently now in charge of?¡± he asked, sounding rather unsure of whether or not someone had made some kind of mistake. Vera¡¯s stern gaze turned toward him as she continued to lead him out of the large empty room and back into one of the central hallways. ¡°Of course, my lord. Although a general tour may not be needed, is there anything in particular that you¡¯d like me to clarify for you before I show you to your offices?¡± Rolling his eyes, Nero replied, ¡°Vera, seriously, knock it off. I get it, you want me to be serious, and you¡¯re trying to set professional boundaries or something by acting like this, but it¡¯s really unnecessary. And more importantly, it¡¯s never going to work. I¡¯m not going to suddenly start acting like you want me to, no matter how prissy and uptight you act. I¡¯m just not capable of that particular brand of douchie-ness.¡± Sighing heavily in defeat, Vera replied, ¡°Very well. You don¡¯t want a tour of your new estate, and you don¡¯t want to assemble the staff for a comprehensive review. So, what do you want?¡± Pausing his steps, he felt the crowd of servants circling him at a distance stumbling to a stop. Looking over at Vera, he tried to stuff as much sincerity into his stare as he could when he said, ¡°I want you to run my house like you have been, sucking any and every advantage you can for yourself while you do, while not completely screwing me over or making me end up destitute in the process. I want you to continue to be my partner and confidant. I¡¯m, as usual, in over my head and I need you to continue to explain to me all the things I¡¯m too stupid to see.¡± Gesturing to the servants hovering 20 feet away down the massive hallway, he continued, ¡°For example, why don¡¯t you start by explaining how I have an entire super-mansion worth of servants already? They can¡¯t have been from the former owners as I doubt you¡¯d keep around anyone still harboring loyalty to the Dorchans.¡± The barest hint of a smirk appeared on Vera¡¯s face as she replied, ¡°You¡¯re the lord of a house on the rise, and plenty of people have been inquiring about the opportunity to join. Through service and loyalty they can advance, and one day, earn a place at your side. Well, their children might, or their grandchildren, but the opportunity is there and many are looking to seize it.¡± Staring at her blankly, he replied, ¡°Uh-huh, right.¡±This content has been misappropriated from Royal Road; report any instances of this story if found elsewhere. Taking a step closer to her, he whispered, ¡°And how am I paying all these people? I thought we went over my finances and decided that all of this was unnecessary.¡± Vera snorted and replied, ¡°We did, and it was. But now everything is different. You¡¯re due compensation for your quest from the city, and many people have pledged to sign their lives over to you during the life-oath ceremony tomorrow. What¡¯s more, the trading posts you tasked me with setting up are making quite a profit. Between the essence crystals we¡¯re receiving and the trade goods we¡¯re selling, House Walker¡¯s finances are more than sufficient to handle filling out your household.¡± Halfway through her speech, she began walking off, clearly expecting Nero to follow her. ¡°You need to understand Nero, now that House Verena has pledged allegiance to House Walker as its Dorchester auxiliary, you¡¯re now receiving a tithe from my share of profits as well. Nicholas¡¯ too for that matter, though his aren¡¯t all that impressive. With the hunting teams Ms. Averett is setting up, your investments in the arena, and Precision Shipping, along with several other sources of income I¡¯ve developed for you, you don¡¯t have anything to worry about regarding your coffers,¡± she declared smugly. Nero shook his head in disbelief at what he was hearing. ¡°So, people are really just signing over their life savings to me and declaring themselves my followers, fully understanding that I¡¯m going to bounce all over the place and get into trouble for the sake of adventure and expanding my horizons?¡± Vera replied quickly, sounding almost insulted that he had to ask, ¡°Of course! An opportunity to follow a unique at the start of his legend is something very few will pass up without a good reason to stay on their current path.¡± Nero listened as she continued to drone on about ¡®why¡¯ people were so intent on following him. She covered in great detail how people viewed this as an opportunity for personal growth and even went so far as to make it sound like they were right to be paying him for the privilege of being his¡­ for lack of a better word¡­ peons. To Nero, it sounded like they were treating it as an apprenticeship or something. Eventually, she led him to his room, having realized how little interest he had in exploring the ridiculously large super-mansion he¡¯d found himself living in. The ¡®chamber¡¯ she understatedly referred to as the master bedroom was large enough to play a solid game of laser tag. The arched ceiling was tall enough to have shadows hiding murals and floating lights interspersed between massive chandeliers housing swirling balls of essence. The walls, like everything else in this place, were filled with meticulously carved designs that made the whole room feel unnecessarily fancy. Wardrobes, couches, rugs, lamps, tables, and every other type of furniture filled up the space around the central pedestal that housed his bed. As if they expected him to be some kind of sultan, the bed had a canopy that made it look more like a gazebo than a mattress. At best guess, he¡¯d be able to fit every woman he¡¯d ever been with in that bed and still have room for all of their sisters. Granted, that number wasn¡¯t all that impressive as some people¡¯s might be, but it was still a ridiculously big ass bed. After sweeping his gaze across the insanely unnecessary master bedroom, he turned to Vera and asked, ¡°Seriously? This is my room? Does it come with a map? Or do I have to plot a course to the bathroom by studying the placement of the chandeliers?¡± Snorting in amusement, Vera replied, ¡°As your personal attendants, Ms. Davis and Mr. Cochran will be more than happy to show you around. Be sure to let Mr. Cochran know if you need anything, as he¡¯ll be in charge of your clothing and armor. Meanwhile, Ms. Davis will manage your other needs.¡± Narrowing his eyes at the two people standing behind her, he asked with a hint of concern, ¡°What ¡®needs¡¯?¡± Raising a singular eyebrow in response to Nero¡¯s hostility, she replied, ¡°All your needs. Linens, food, your washing, things of that nature. As the personal chambermaid of her lord, she¡¯ll also be willing to fulfill your carnal needs if that¡¯s what you¡¯re worried about. However, I¡¯d recommend focusing more on your responsibilities than worrying about that sort of thing. Besides, there are trained bedmates in the pleasure houses that would be far more appropriate for that sort of thing.¡± Nero¡¯s jaw dropped, simultaneously both shocked and offended at how he was both right in his suspicions and insulted by her misunderstanding what he had meant. ¡°That¡¯s¡­ I mean¡­ Goddamit, Vera¡­ I¡¯m not going to have sex with the maid!¡± Confused, Vera replied, ¡°Well¡­ of course you won¡¯t. I just told you that you shouldn¡¯t. You¡¯re a lord of a unique house, with a rather strong local position. You can afford to pick your consorts with a little more thought and tact than that. Or at least I hope you can. Regardless, try and get some rest. Tomorrow will be a big day, and you need to do your best not to ruin anything with your antics. Be sure to read the schedule I¡¯ve sent you, and if you have time, look over the estate¡¯s introduction packet I prepared.¡± Gesturing to the two people in matching robes behind her, she added, ¡°As I said, if you have anything other questions, I¡¯m sure Ms. Davis and Mr. Cochran will be able to help you.¡± Without another word, she walked off, leaving Nero alone with his new personal attendants, both of whom were looking at him with expressions somewhere between happiness and respect. They were both wearing matching gray robes with teal highlights, which he vaguely remembered being the house colors he¡¯d chosen. Mr. Cochran was just under 6ft, with an average build, but impeccably groomed to the point that Nero wondered how long he must take to get ready in the morning. His short brown hair was slicked in a perfect part, and his beard¡¯s uniformity at approximately one-half inch in length must be a total bitch to maintain. The man just ¡®looked¡¯ like he was the kind of guy who sorted his cereal boxes by fiber content. To his left was Ms. Davis. She on the other hand looked more like a middle school teacher at a prep school rather than a maid. Her bright blond hair was in a tight bun, giving Nero no idea as to how long it actually was. Her rounded face and naturally cheery eyes gave the impression that she was ¡®there¡¯ for him. Seeing that she was rather plump in all the right places, just short of being overweight, made Nero have the uncomfortable urge to give her a hug. Seeing as he was not emotionally prepared for this type of meeting, Nero said, ¡°Well, it¡¯s nice to meet you both. I¡¯m sure you¡¯ve both been vetted and are more than capable of whatever it is you¡¯re supposed to do here. Lucky for you, I don¡¯t plan to be here all that often, and I doubt I¡¯ll be needing you to do too much. However, just so you know, if anyone offers to buy your loyalty or pays you to off me in my sleep¡­ always remember that I¡¯m willing to pay more, fight dirtier, and hold grudges better than they will.¡± Seeing their smiles becoming a little strained, he rubbed the back of his neck in annoyance. He really had no idea how to deal with the fact that these two random people were now just¡­ part of his life. ¡°For now, I¡¯m just going to take a shower and eat some food I have stored in my personal space. Feel free to go about your business, and do whatever it is that you¡¯re supposed to do. I¡¯ll be sure to look up the section concerning your duties in the packet Vera¡­ I mean¡­ Lady Verena sent. When I have something for you to do, I¡¯ll let you know. It was nice to meet you both.¡± Turning around, Nero was about to walk off before he paused and asked over his shoulder, ¡°Um¡­ so which way is the bathroom?¡± Both Mr. Cochran and Ms. Davis raised their right hands and pointed off toward one of the walls in the distance. Their unspoken coordination and equally confused expressions nearly made Nero burst into laughter. Luckily, he limited his response to a smirk as he left them there wondering what just happened. Nero quickly put them both out of his mind, as he was more interested in what the decorators were thinking when they furnished this place. He couldn¡¯t understand the point of random couches and tables arranged in circles all over the place. It was like they were expecting groups to gather while waiting for their turn in the ridiculously large central bed. Shaking his head in amusement, he thought to himself, ¡®That¡¯s probably exactly what they were thinking when they designed this place.¡¯ Finding the bathroom wasn¡¯t all that hard once he got near it, as the doors were wide open. Yes, doors. There were two of them. Upon entering, he saw a large tiled room with an overhead mural filled with clouds and an essence light mimicking the sun. Thin, beautiful pillars sectioned off different areas while holding up the faux sky. The shower, if you could call it that, was an entire area that had constant gentle rain coming down from the ceiling. On the other side, there were raised areas with stairs leading to various-sized hot tubs with steam wafting off them. Then, in the middle, there was a bath that could only be described as a swimming pool. Throughout the bathroom there were various types of sitting options, including stools, benches, sloped mats, and even couches¡­ all of them waterproof somehow. And then there were the mirrors, so many mirrors. There were hundreds of them seamlessly integrated into the walls and pillars. Had he not spent the better part of his day thinking about enchantments and specifically what they were capable of, he wouldn¡¯t have considered how difficult it must have been to set all this up. He was looking forward to delving into everything and figuring out how it all worked. But, with the sound of water from the ¡®rain-room¡¯, he had more pressing concerns. Although he did want a shower, he was more interested in finding a toilet. That¡¯s when he noticed them. Multiple toilets spread out through the room like stools with holes in them. They were all over the place, and each was incorporated subtly into whatever area they were placed. ¡®I guess they don¡¯t even bother with toilet paper here. As the master of the house, I¡¯m expected to know how to magically wipe my own ass,¡¯ he thought to himself with a chuckle. Shrugging away the weird combination of artistic pragmatism of the room, he started taking off his armor, fully intending to christen every part of his new bathroom. After taking care of his business, he took a soak in the magical version of a jacuzzi, ate some food, perused the Thought Hub, read the estate¡¯s welcome packet, and answered a few pings. It was both thoroughly relaxing and surprisingly productive. The downside of all that productivity was that he now had a better understanding of how the citizenry of Dorchester, along with its nobles, saw the ¡®new and interesting Lord Walker¡¯. An hour later, he walked out of the bathroom with a thoughtful look on his face, ready to call it an early night so he could get some thinking done. Stuttering to a stop, he saw both Mr. Cochran and Ms. Davis standing next to the stairs leading up to his bed, each with a patient look on their faces. They didn¡¯t say anything, but he could ¡®feel¡¯ their request for orders coming through loud and clear over the ether. After coughing lightly to regain some composure, he said, ¡°Um, thank you both for¡­ whatever it is you did, or are doing. But, you can both head out for the night. I¡¯ll be fine. Big day tomorrow and all, so I¡¯m just going to head to bed a little early. That is¡­ I mean, is there something I need to be doing before I can get some sleep?¡± Mr. Cochran replied swiftly and professionally, ¡°No, my lord. Lady Verena has asked me to remind you to read the schedule she arranged, but other than that, everything can wait until morning. Good night, my lord.¡± Ms. Davis echoed, ¡°Good night, my lord.¡± Then, as if having practiced the maneuver many times before, they simultaneously offered a slight bow and walked away in lockstep. ¡®Seeing that kind of thing in person is just as creepy as I thought it would be when I saw it on TV,¡¯ he thought to himself. Now alone, he walked up the stairs to his bed and crawled toward the center¡­ or at least he started to. After a few feet, he decided it was pointless and sprawled out where he was. Closing his eyes, he sunk into his inner world, resolving himself to a thorough and complete session of self-reflection and heavy thought concerning how he felt about being called ¡®The smiling death¡¯, ¡®The Saviour of Dorchester¡¯, ¡®The Hand of the Heavens¡¯, and among other things¡­ ¡®The Walker¡¯. ¡®I should really look into getting some royalties based on how many people are talking about me,¡¯ he thought to himself sarcastically, doing his best to keep calm and not freak out. Chapter 229 - Getting settled, mentally and physically. Archmage Mathers settled into his chair with a sigh of relief. Having spent the day traveling all over Hennings, suffering through meeting after meeting, it was nice to be able to sit down and enjoy some heavens-blessed silence. Despite having gotten around most of the paperwork his newfound position demanded, he was still swamped with work. Their shadow war with the Tower of Fate, along with the day-to-day considerations he had to deal with were filling his days with obligations he couldn¡¯t ignore. Reaching into his desk, he pulled out a bottle of Boltarian red along with a glass. While he still had multiple things he needed to get done today, a glass or two of wine probably wouldn¡¯t hurt. After using a simple spell to remove the cork and instantly aerate the wine, he poured himself a glass while thinking, ¡®Even after delegating most of the responsibilities of the position, I¡¯m still stuck dealing with too many duties. I haven¡¯t seen the inside of my lab in days. It¡¯s no wonder that old bastard was always in such a horrible mood,¡¯ he thought to himself. Having just thought of Archmage Jennings, Mathers groaned out loud in annoyance while collapsing deeper into his seat in defeat. ¡®I keep forgetting to check in with him,¡¯ he chided himself. After taking a hefty gulp of wine, he straightened himself up and sent out a request for Jennings to open a connection. If there was one thing Archmage Mathers refused to be, it was a procrastinator. While enjoying his wine, he waited patiently for Jennings to contact him, knowing that the archmage was currently out of his office. Through the dedicated connection they¡¯d set up, he could look in on the man whenever he wanted, he just usually was too busy to bother. Eventually, he felt the connection request come in from the relay they set up between Dorchester¡¯s Tower of Magic and the one here in Hennings. ¡°Mathers! If this is about the localized ether collapse, you don¡¯t have to worry. I already took care of it,¡± Jennings said in lieu of a greeting. Confused, but not terribly interested in hearing about it, Mathers replied, ¡°Oh, that¡¯s good then. Well done.¡± Unsurprisingly, Jennings immediately saw through Mathers¡¯ bluff and asked, ¡°If it¡¯s not about the ether collapse, then what¡¯s the matter? Has there been an issue with the shadow war? What have those fate-obsessed idiots done now?¡± Mathers chuckled, somehow comforted by Jennings¡¯ ornery nature. It reminded him that despite currently being the one in charge of the council of magic, it was Jennings who was the true power in the Tower, and likely would remain so until he either died or ascended. Waving his hand dismissively at the transmitted image of Jennings, Mathers replied, ¡°No, nothing like that. Everything is going to plan, and as far as we can tell the Tower of Fate is still debating how to respond to the rapidly changing public opinion. Granted, they¡¯ll have to do something soon, or some glory-seeking young noble is going to propose a reform to the council of leadership and then it will be out of their hands.¡± Nodding in understanding, Jennings replied, ¡°Alright, then what do you want?¡± Grimacing, Mathers replied, ¡°Honestly? Nothing. I just haven¡¯t spoken with you in a few days, and I haven¡¯t had time to follow the reports coming out of Dorchester. The last I heard, the dwarven ambassador had chosen Dorchester for their experimental city initiative and since then I¡¯ve been too busy to follow up with you.¡± Having already known all about the dwarves, Jennings wasn¡¯t surprised. What was surprising was Mathers being too busy to pay attention to what he was up to. He¡¯d have thought that Mathers would have dedicated an entire mind partition to monitoring him. ¡°Alright, I¡¯ll bite. What¡¯s got you so busy that you can¡¯t watch over me, silently judging me like you usually do?¡± Jennings asked with a subtle tone of accusation. Mather¡¯s replied quickly, ¡°I don¡¯t usually wat-¡± Jennings interrupted him with an angry, ¡°Mathers! Spit. It. Out!¡± Sighing, Mathers replied, ¡°It¡¯s just¡­ being the acting head of the council of mages isn¡¯t as enjoyable as I thought it would be¡­ and I¡­ I miss my lab.¡± Rolling his eyes, Jennings said, ¡°If there is anyone in the world who can relate to what you¡¯re going through, it¡¯s me. It¡¯s incredibly annoying to finally get the position you¡¯ve always wanted, only to find out that it is a headache you were completely unprepared for. Why do you think I sent so much of my work your way? Hells below, I pretty much spent the past 100 years perfecting the art of having other people do aspects of my job so that I was free to spend my days tinkering away with my experiments.¡± Mathers, having gotten used to the idea of Jennings avoiding his responsibilities wasn¡¯t remotely surprised. Once again sighing, he asked hopefully, ¡°I don¡¯t suppose you¡¯ll be returning to Hennings anytime soon?¡± Jennings narrowed his eyes in consideration as he evaluated Mathers¡¯ puffy red eyes and generally defeated demeanor. From what he could see, the poor man wasn¡¯t handling being in charge of the council of magic nearly as well as Jennings had expected him to. Rubbing his chin in thought. ¡®Considering how obsessed with rules and paperwork he is, I would have thought he would love having everyone reporting to him. Looking at him now, it¡¯s like he¡¯s already succumbing to age creep,¡¯ he said to himself sarcastically, mocking the man¡¯s tired appearance. Suddenly widening his eyes, Jennings muttered a curse, ¡°Devils and demons damn that little shit!¡± Mathers, broken out of his thoughts by Jennings, raised his eyebrows in surprise and asked, ¡°What? Who¡¯s a little shit?¡± Audibly groaning in annoyance, Jennings replied, ¡°Our anomaly. I just, unfortunately, realized what that nonsense he¡¯s been spouting about not wanting to be a leader is all about. I thought¡­ well, it doesn¡¯t matter what I thought. Just¡­ if you can find the time, track down the recorded scry of his address to his house¡¯s troops after the recent battle with the kobalds. Also, I recommend scheduling a session or two with a wayfinder. I hate to say it, but I think we as a people have forgotten what our founders truly wanted for us.¡± Mathers, thoroughly and utterly confused, replied, ¡°A wayfinder? I haven¡¯t spoken with a wayfinder in centuries. Why would I need to sche-¡± Interrupting him, Jennings replied angrily, ¡°Just watch the little shit¡¯s speech. Then tell me it doesn¡¯t sound like something out of the old tales of the founding. You¡¯ll see what I mean.¡± Not understanding the connection between the topic he¡¯d brought up, and what Jennings was talking about, but not wanting to further anger the temperamental old man, he replied, ¡°Alright. I¡¯ll be sure to do so. But, in the meantime, do you have anything to report that I should be aware of, or that you need my help with?¡± Jennings¡¯ furrowed brow softened, remembering that despite their confrontational relationship, they¡¯d always looked out for each other. ¡°No, I¡¯m fine. Don¡¯t worry about my little adventure out here. You just focus on reminding the people I¡¯ve had dealing with things that just because I¡¯m not there, doesn¡¯t mean they¡¯re not still responsible for the duties I¡¯ve assigned them. Here, I¡¯ll send you the master list I created concerning who I¡¯ve had doing what. It should hopefully free up some more of your time, allowing you to get back to your lab.¡± Having received the list on his link, Mathers immediately opened it. He could see scores of names, each one a member of the council, and each having been given responsibilities that he¡¯d been busting his ass dealing with since the Jennings had left the city. He¡¯d already known about the Jennings offloading his paperwork onto others, but seeing the true extent of his delegation shenanigans, he felt his face turning red from his blood pressure spiking. ¡°You¡¯ve had this list the entire time! And those bastards just let me do everything! I¡¯m going to kill them! I¡¯m going to drag each and every one of those smug bastards to the arena and end them! Then¡­ when I¡¯m done with them, I¡¯m going to deal with you! How could you not tell me about this!¡± Jennings, seeing the ethereal waves or essence pouring off his friend over the scry connection, decided that it was a good time to end the conversation. ¡°Well, I¡¯m happy to be of help. Remember what I said, I think you¡¯ll find it enlightening. Be sure to get some sleep¡­ you look stressed,¡± he added with a smile. As Mathers screamed, ¡°JENNINGS!¡± the scry connection cut off, leaving him once again alone in his office. With his fists clenched in rage, he noticed that he had lost control of his essence field, causing a small, localized essence storm in his office. Tragically, he could see that he had inadvertently caused the wine in both his glass and the bottle to boil, completely ruining the one good thing he had going for him on this¡­ his most miserable day in recent memory. Muttering softly, he promised himself, ¡°Yup¡­ I¡¯m definitely going to kill him.¡± ¡ª-- Slipping into his inner world, Nero took a deep breath of fresh air. The cobblestone path below his feet was where it was supposed to be, and the sky was still clear of rain. The puffy clouds overhead, along with the bright and cheery sun gave the forest in his mind an ambiance of tranquility. Yet, there was a pervasive sense of the unknown, a promise of adventure provided by the dancing shadows and the uncertain path in front of him. ¡°Looks like everything is still working,¡± he said to himself as he glanced around at the floating memories hovering all over the place. Rubbing his hands together, he got to work. Instead of just mindlessly incorporating them, he let himself get lost in the recollections, experiencing them all over again from an objective perspective. He rewatched himself giving his speech to the wackos¡­ and the potential wackos. Just as he¡¯d thought, it was just as cringe-worthy as he expected it to be. While he could tell that everyone enjoyed it for some reason, watching himself rant like a crazy person caused him to face-palm and promise that in the future he¡¯d make some notecards or something.You could be reading stolen content. Head to the original site for the genuine story. The only positive he could see was that despite physically being a teenager, he actually didn¡¯t really look like one. Whether it was the way he stood, what he was wearing, or just the look in his eye, he looked more like a young man than a 14-year-old brat throwing a tantrum. Looking at it objectively, he could even see how some people¡­ crazy people that is¡­ might consider what he¡¯d said as inspirational. He then relived the meeting with the leadership of his house, enjoying once again how everyone seemed to know what they were doing without asking too much for his input. Aside from noticing that Knight Angleton was a little more angry about his little speech than Nero remembered him being, he thought he¡¯d gotten his point across well. Most of what he saw was unsurprising but still noteworthy. Everything he was re-experiencing felt more like shoring up his foundations than progressing further along his path. Besides, being able to consider how he ¡®felt¡¯ about what he was taking away from the experiences was probably more important in the long run than what he¡¯d actually experienced. ¡®I need to remember that perception is reality here¡­ even more so than it was in my previous world,¡¯ he thought to himself with a frown. After he¡¯d caught up with everything that his soul had stockpiled, he found himself at a loss for how he should proceed. He¡¯d thought he would have learned something from watching his rather profound revelations happen from an outside perspective, but that hadn¡¯t been the case. Checking his identity panel, he saw that he only gained around 15% of a level¡­ barely anything.
Name Nero Walker Level 16
Race Human Growth 28%
Tier 1 Condition 100%
Age 14 Center 100%
Body 4 Mind 5
Soul 2 Confluence 11
Stars 0 Pillars 3/ 1
Not that he¡¯d expected all that much from a single day. If he were being honest with himself, he¡¯d have to say that he was still leveling a lot faster than he should be. But, he still had questions that he needed answered. For example, his pillar had acquired a new ability which was supposed to help him ¡®harmonize¡¯ his attributes¡­ whatever that meant. Also, if growth was primarily about figuring out who you are, then why would he need to go out and do anything? Couldn¡¯t he just stay in his room and think about stuff¡­ like a monk¡­ or a stoner? While he rubbed the back of his head in thought, he found himself staring at the literal path in front of him, wondering what his upcoming life¡¯s journey had in store for him. Although he was trying his best to embrace the metaphors and understand how all of this crap worked, it was still really annoying. Pausing in thought, he recalled the offhand comment he¡¯d made to Nick and Quincy about how growth was basically like world-sponsored self-enchanting. By creating experiences, and using them to reinforce his identity, he was both giving his life meaning and becoming more ¡®himself¡¯ than he was before. Suddenly, he had a stray thought that made the back of his neck begin to sweat. ¡®Have I ever looked behind me while I¡¯ve been in here? I haven¡¯t¡­ have I?¡¯ he wondered to himself, while all of a sudden feeling like something vast and dangerous was directly behind him. Slowly, he turned to look over his shoulder to see the path behind him. Widening his eyes in shock, he recoiled from the sight of his path leading off into nothingness. Around 50 or 60 feet away, the path just ended¡­ or started¡­ or something. The cobblestone path, the forest, even the sky, it all just stopped. In their place was a solid wall of kaleidoscopic colors that he somehow just knew was outside of the reality he¡¯d been living in. Had that always been there, or had it just appeared when he¡¯d thought of it? Was there even a point to thinking about it? Muttering unconsciously, he said, ¡°I really do come from outside of this plane of existence¡­ I¡¯m like a body-jacking dimensional alien with superpowers.¡± Ripping his eyes away from the incomprehensible sight, he turned around to face forward again, taking deep breaths to keep himself from freaking out. He already knew he couldn¡¯t really ¡®move¡¯ forward or backward along his path, so he was incapable of running away or exploring what he decided would henceforth be referred to as the ¡®reality wall¡¯. Feeling his knees getting a little weak, he sat his ass down on the cobblestone path and looked up at the sky while trying to regain his bearings. Seeing proof, even if it was metaphorical, of his weird nature shook him to his core. After a bit, he managed to get himself together and start thinking about what it all meant. Looking around, he let his eyes wander over the shadows and trees, reveling in the feeling of the gentle breeze on his face, thoroughly enjoying the peaceful atmosphere. Then, like he¡¯d been hit with a ¡®duh¡¯ hammer, he remembered that all of this was in his head, or his soul, or something equally ¡®not real¡¯. Even worse, it was a representation HE¡¯d made up, one he was now finding emotional comfort in. He was quite literally calming himself down. Frowning at the thought that he might actually end up going crazy if this world continued not making any kind of real-world, logical sense, he closed his eyes and renewed his promise to himself that he would continue taking things at face value. The last thing he wanted to do was start overthinking things. That never works out well for anybody. What he needed to do was focus on the tangible, real-world things he could control. While he couldn¡¯t outright ignore all this spiritual nonsense, that didn¡¯t mean he had to focus on it. All he had to do was treat it like a microwave. There was absolutely, positively no reason he needed to understand how it did what it did. Simply knowing that it did it was enough. The food still got hot, as long as he followed the rules. Don¡¯t microwave metal or plastic, and be sure to stir what he was cooking every two minutes. Same thing with his leveling. All he had to do was focus on his goals, avoid getting distracted, and respect the grind. Although, aside from his brief stint as an elite trainee, enjoying the personal instruction of Cathleen, he hadn¡¯t done all that much grinding. Shaking off the distracting thought, he said to himself, ¡®Doesn¡¯t matter. I¡¯m more of a learn-while-doing kind of guy anyway.¡¯ Standing up, he firmed his shoulders and glared at the path fading off into the distance, and the mountains beyond. ¡°My long-term goal remains the same. Big ass tower. Reality-altering super-mage. Adventure.¡± Nodding to himself, he added, ¡°Tomorrow, I¡¯ll state my intentions clearly, and if they really want to follow me, then so be it. I decide what being their leader entails. Not them. My life is my own, and my destiny¡­ is mine to control!¡± he stated loudly and firmly as if he were daring the metaphorical path before him to disagree with him. From out of nowhere, there was a massive clap of thunder, loud enough to shake the ground under his feet. A strong breeze blew across the forest like a wave, spinning loose leaves and dirt all over the place. Even the sky changed, as though a cloud had passed in front of the sun, casting the entire area in a temporary shadow. Then, as quickly as it started, it was over. After wiping the dust from his eyes, he could see that the sun was back out, and the forest had returned to normal. However, the cobblestone path under his feet had changed. No longer was it a small but charmingly enduring path through the forest. Now it was a road, a small one, but a road nonetheless. It had widened considerably. And the stones that used to be randomly sized, but well placed, were now more uniform and much flatter. No longer were there shoots of plant life coming up in between them. Now, the path looked like it had just been freshly laid by professionals. Facepalming himself, he groaned, ¡°Son of a bitch¡­ my path is now wide and clear. This entire world can just eat a dick!¡± Completely over the idea of putting up with any more self-reflection, Nero hastily ejected himself back into reality, finding himself once again in his massively oversized bed. Feeling the obviously enchanted mattress cradling him like an infant, and smelling the wonderful scent of freshly laundered sheets, Nero easily put all that nonsense behind him and instead let himself drift off to sleep. As usual, he suffered through a mildly uncomfortable night of images assaulting his dreams and interrupting his rest. Thankfully, since he was back in Dorchester, he was no longer just seeing the life and times of the kobalds, he was now able to catch glimpses of Dorchester in all its glory. He saw average citizens going about their lives, trying to make connections with each other, finding love and friendship. Hardworking men and women dedicated to improving themselves while putting up with the daily annoyances like work and in-laws. He saw scheming nobles meeting in secret and witnessed the web of connections their houses provided. It was like seeing massive multicolored roots spreading out through the city, both feeding off it and simultaneously holding it together. But that wasn¡¯t all, he also got to see visions of Dorchester¡¯s history. He witnessed the failed Dorchen rebellion against Oglivarch and the consequences thereof. From his third-person perspective, he was able to see the moment the essence flows collapsed, causing the ether itself to recoil from the material plane. He saw the moment a woman who looked much like the city lord took up the throne. He felt like he could feel the heat on his face as he watched the city burn. Unfortunately, the entire experience was just fractured imagery accompanied by intuitive understanding and hints. He learned no secrets, nor achieved any understanding of anything remotely useful. When it was all said and done, all he¡¯d gotten out of the experience was a restless night and a slightly improved perspective of what the city was. Sitting up in his bed, he rubbed his temples as the memories of what he¡¯d just experienced settled into his mind. ¡°Would you prefer to bathe first, or would you rather have your breakfast, my lord?¡± asked a voice from his right. Nearly jumping out of the sheets in shock, Nero looked over to see Ms. Davis standing there with that motherly, yet inviting smile on her face. She looked exactly the same as she did yesterday and seemed perfectly at ease standing there at the edge of his bed. Panting heavily from the shock, Nero held a hand to his naked chest to settle his heart. ¡°How long have you been standing there?¡± he asked in a growl. While keeping that understanding expression on her face, she replied, ¡°Not long, my lord. So, bath or breakfast?¡± Grumbling to himself about annoying ass servants being nothing more than paid babysitters, he crawled his bare ass across the bed. He absolutely refused to be intimidated by the idea of her seeing him naked. If this was supposed to be his room, then he will damn well treat it as such. Walking right past her with his head held high, he said, ¡°I¡¯m going to the bathroom¡­ don¡¯t even think about following me.¡± As he strode off, he tried to maintain as much dignity as he could, despite his current exposure. While he headed down the steps leading down to the rest of the room from his bed¡¯s pedestal, he heard Ms. Davis¡¯ calm voice reply, ¡°As you wish, my lord. You still have 3 hours until you¡¯re needed in the receiving hall. Breakfast will be waiting for you when you return.¡± Not bothering to stop, or even acknowledge what she¡¯d said, Nero headed off toward the bathroom for his morning ritual, his head still reeling from all that he¡¯d experienced while he¡¯d slept. ¡®OK. First, take your morning dump. Then a shower, brush your teeth, and get dressed. There should be plenty of time for coffee¡­ I mean breakfast. And for God¡¯s sake man, remember to read the damn schedule thing Vera sent you,¡¯ he mentally yelled at himself while stomping across the room to the bathroom, already knowing for a fact that today was going to suck balls. Chapter 230 - Taking the stage to play the part. Lady Vera Salvatore-Verena knew she should have been used to this type of pressure. She¡¯d been to innumerable noble events, ceremonies like this included. However, none of that vast experience seemed to help her at the moment. She wasn¡¯t unaware of what the source of her anxiety was, she just couldn¡¯t do anything about it. For one thing, she had taken it upon herself to plan and coordinate everything, while not technically being the one in charge. The situation itself precluded her usual level of control over events as her success was intrinsically tied to her new lord¡¯s hosting abilities. And it was her new lord that was the real problem. It wasn¡¯t all that long ago that she had met the young man, and since then his rise has been both improbable and rapid in a way that continuously unsteadied her worldview. Not that she blamed him for it, not really. She liked him well enough, even thought of him as a friend and potential ally. Had there been more time to get to know him, she more than likely wouldn¡¯t have any reason to feel this unbalanced. Yet, fate didn¡¯t seem to want to give her enough time to adjust. Whether she was ready to accept it or not, their dynamic had irrevocably changed. Where she had once been in the stronger social position, now she had somehow found herself as the weaker party. She was merely a lady in a house beholden to his. While unlikely, propriety required her to show subservience to him, to treat him as a superior. What made it worse was that she knew he didn¡¯t understand the social complexities involved. Not only that, he refused to learn about them. So now, here she was, planning a founding ceremony for him, having to rely on him not to embarrass both their houses in front of the entire city¡¯s nobility. Out of the corner of her eye, she saw Mrs. Warren, the estate manager she had hired for her new lord, approaching. Preempting what she was going to say, Vera asked, ¡°Yes? What is it?¡± Unflustered, Mrs. Warren replied, ¡°Most of the nobility has already arrived and have been shown to the main hall. Food and drinks are already being served, and from the looks of it, it seems that it was a good idea to err on the side of caution and overestimate how much we needed to prepare. It seems as if most of the city¡¯s power base has made an appearance.¡± Unsurprised, Vera nodded briefly before asking, ¡°Anything else?¡± Stepping a little closer, Mrs. Warren lowered her voice to a whisper, ¡°Yes, my lady. We may need to deploy more relays for all the potential adherents. The area we reserved for them will likely be insufficient to contain their numbers. Already more applicants have appeared than we have registrations for.¡± Slightly widening her eyes in reply, Vera tried to keep calm. ¡°More? But didn¡¯t we post a hard limit on the recruitment page?¡± Nodding seriously, Mrs. Warren replied, ¡°Yes, we did. However, from what some of the staff have overheard, it seems that Lord Walker¡¯s declaration of his house¡¯s intent has inspired many people to follow him. There has been more than one comparison made to some of the speeches the first king and several of the founders had made during the founding of Oglivarch. The people seem to believe that Lord Walker will be like one of the great legends come again, and following him will see them participating in a new, greater city¡¯s founding at some point. They want to experience where his path will lead them.¡± Feeling the urge to rub her temples in annoyance, Vera said, ¡°Well, as long as they follow the agreed upon precepts, I don¡¯t suppose we can just send them away. If they are truly willing to give up their lives to follow him, we have no justifiable reason to deny them. If we did, we¡¯d be lambasted by the public opinion and they¡¯d probably just end up following him anyway.¡± Her face stoic and calm, Mrs. Warren replied, ¡°That would most likely be the case, yes.¡± Changing the subject, Vera asked, ¡°Have you heard from the evaluators?¡± Nodding, Mrs. Warren replied succinctly, ¡°Yes, they¡¯ve arrived with the order¡¯s grandmaster. The matter with the charges against Lord Walker has been resolved, and the first payment toward the completion of the quest has already been awarded. Also, it seems that the Royal Academy has decided to certify Lord Walker¡¯s status as a unique, bypassing the need for any further inquiry. Surprisingly, the evaluator team has stated their intentions to become Lord Walker¡¯s adherents as well.¡± Shocked, Vera asked, ¡°Really? All of them? They¡¯re willing to give up their citizenships at the capital?¡± Replying quickly, Mrs. Warren said quietly, ¡°It appears so. They¡¯ve also registered their accounts and agreed to the equity transfer. I¡¯m not sure why, but they are adamant about tying their futures to Lord Walker. However, I¡¯ve been told they are still restricted from acting in support of his efforts here due to their level disparity.¡± Thinking quickly through the ramifications of what she¡¯d just heard, Vera muttered, ¡°Well, of course they would be. That aside, the amount of money they¡¯ll be injecting into House Walker¡¯s coffers is enough to open up a myriad of future opportunities. As former citizens of the capital, their individual wealth most likely dwarfs the worth of every noble in Dorchester combined.¡± Appearing out of nowhere right next to them, Academian Quincy said, ¡°That would more than likely be true.¡± Stifling their surprise well, both women turned to look at the academian¡¯s smirking face with equally cool looks demonstrating how unamused they were with the man¡¯s sudden appearance. Offering them both a polite nod of apology, Academian Quincy continued, ¡°Now that we¡¯ve formally left the Royal Academy, I¡¯m free to tell you that we came to Dorchester specifically to follow Lord Walker.¡± Confused, but hiding it well, Vera replied, ¡°But, why?¡± The centuries-old man¡¯s eyes looked every bit his age at the moment when he replied, ¡°Because we believe that he sees the world in a way we cannot. So much of what he says and does is dismissed as rhetoric and misunderstood by those who witness it. Yet, despite that, we know that there is wisdom behind every one of his actions. Many people in the capital are following his story, choosing to emulate the principles he espouses with his every waking breath. He is known there as The Walker, and his passion for life and unflinching pursuit of his personal goals is nothing short of inspirational. Once, long ago, we as a people were dedicated solely to personal development, coming together to forge a society that stood for individual greatness. We rewarded hard work and success with responsibility, culling from our leadership those who only desired power over others. Somewhere along that path, we¡¯ve lost our way. The Walker is someone who leads from the front. He doesn¡¯t require anyone to give up their lives for him, but his very presence gives them meaning when they do. He¡¯s like a bright and shining light in the distance, showing us the way. For that, we will follow him, and in so doing, find our own path through the world.¡± Stunned at the man¡¯s declaration, Vera gulped once to clear her throat. ¡°I had no idea that his legend had already spread that far. Have you all really decided to give up all that your long years have earned, just for the chance to follow him?¡± Replying with a subtly mocking tone, he said, ¡°What good are resources when our paths are stagnating? Our inner sense of adventure is what drives us, and The Walker has made it clear that¡¯s what being a wacko is all about.¡± Dropping his serious expression, he changed his tone to forcibly break the moment¡¯s tone, ¡°Well, enough of that for now. We have a ceremony to partake in. This is the first founding of a unique house in over 100 years. People will be watching recordings of this for quite some time, so let¡¯s be sure to enjoy it.¡± Without another word, his form seemed to ripple until he disappeared from their sight. Turning to Mrs. Warren, Vera said seriously, ¡°Let¡¯s get those extra relays set up promptly, and make sure everything is in order. We can¡¯t afford any mistakes, the eyes of the entire kingdom will be watching.¡± Nodding seriously in response to Lady Salvatore-Verena¡¯s words, Mrs. Warren replied, ¡°Of course, my lady. I will see to it personally.¡± ¡ª-- After enjoying a shower in the incomprehensible ¡®rain¡¯ area of his bathroom, Nero dried himself off with one of the 30 or so strategically placed towels hanging all over the place. Shaking his head in amusement, he couldn¡¯t decide if whoever had designed this room was a genius or a madman. Now clean and ready to start his day, he stood in front of one of the numerous mirrors, trying to decide whether or not to follow the recommendation Vera sent for what he should wear. The schedule she¡¯d sent had him wearing the same formal robes he¡¯d worn to his visit to the keep, this time modified to display his house colors. Unfortunately, she hadn¡¯t included her reasoning as to ¡®why¡¯ he needed to wear them. Most likely, she¡¯d just assumed he wouldn¡¯t have cared. And normally, she¡¯d have been right. But this time, Nero was trying to think ahead. He¡¯d be on display for the first time in a formal setting as Lord Walker, and how he presented himself would set the tone for how the nobles saw him, not to mention whoever else ended up seeing the ceremony. Much like the time when he¡¯d given his oath to Dorchester, Vera had kept the instructions as simple as possible. Nero could tell she only included what she felt he needed to know. He really should have read the damn thing before he went to sleep last night. It would have given him time to formulate some questions and prepare. Unfortunately, he couldn¡¯t have even if he wanted to. His link had been right where he¡¯d left it¡­ on top of his magic satchel¡­ on the floor of the bathroom. Figuring that he might as well get in the habit of using his link, he sent a ping out to Vera, chuckling to himself at both how simple and how unused to the process he was. Almost immediately, the connection snapped open. Vera¡¯s presence appeared in his mind like a wall of tightly wound emotions. He could tell she was forcibly suppressing her anxiety and stress, keeping herself calm by sheer stubborn force of will. ¡°Good morning, my lord. What can I do for you?¡± she asked somewhat tersely. Nero rolled his eyes at her forced unfamiliarity. ¡°I just wanted to know if I really needed to wear the fancy robes you suggested. Like, is it mandatory or something? Because I was thinking that it might be better to wear my armor,¡± he said. While doing an amazing job of keeping her anger in check, she replied, ¡°And why would you want to wear your armor? Are you expecting combat?¡±This story has been stolen from Royal Road. If you read it on Amazon, please report it ¡°No, not really. I just think that I don¡¯t want to look like a typical noble. After all, I don¡¯t plan on being one, now do I¡­ I¡¯d rather present myself honestly. Also, on that note, I¡¯m not going to be using the welcoming speech you prepared. I don¡¯t think it sends the right message,¡± he said firmly. Nero could practically feel her emotional control slipping. ¡°Very well, my lord. Wearing noble robes and giving a welcoming speech is merely tradition. If you choose not to follow it, then that is your right. Is there anything else you¡¯re intending to change with the ceremony?¡± she asked. He could feel her getting close to snapping, so Nero replied quickly, ¡°No, that¡¯s it. Thank you for all your hard work. I¡¯ll be where I¡¯m supposed to be when I¡¯m supposed to be there¡­ So, don¡¯t worry. I promise not to embarrass you or anything¡­ probably.¡± Not waiting for a response, he cut the connection and then performed a full-bodied shiver. ¡®God damn that woman is intimidating. I could feel the temperature dropping when she wasn¡¯t even in the room!¡¯ he thought to himself. Taking what she had said as permission, Nero got dressed in the new leather armor he¡¯d gotten after the supplies had been delivered. While throwing his link in his pocket, he wondered why no one ever thought of putting them on a chain and wearing them as a necklace. It shouldn¡¯t be that uncommon to not have to have it attached to their head. Although, most people he¡¯d seen still wore theirs, and he might be wrong in assuming it was just the fashion. Standing in front of the mirror, he ruffled his hair a few times to make it look more ¡®effortlessly arranged¡¯. Evaluating himself from a few angles, he adjusted the strap on his satchel so it sat more comfortably on his hip. When he was done, he gave his reflection a couple of finger guns and wink before heading out. Back in his room, Ms. Davis had arranged his breakfast on one of the tables and was now standing a few feet away from where he assumed he was supposed to sit, looking every bit the cliched servant she was. Nero, not knowing how he should treat her, offered her a nod of thanks before sitting down and digging in. While he ate, he did his best to ignore her, as he had more important things to worry about, and a limited amount of time to worry about them. As he powered through his breakfast, he thought about what he was going to say in his speech. He thought about whether or not he should write something down, but in the end decided to just mentally prepare the bullet points and try to speak from the heart. He¡¯d never been much of an over-preparer, and he wasn¡¯t going to start now. By the time he was done, he still had an hour before he had to be in the ¡®main hall¡¯... wherever that was. Rather than wait and chance being late, he asked Ms. Davis to lead him there. However, the moment he did, the doors to his room opened, allowing Mr. Cochran to enter along with another woman Nero hadn¡¯t met. ¡°Good morning, my lord. May I present Mrs. Tilly Warren, The Walker Estate¡¯s manager,¡± Mr. Cochran said while gesturing to his left. Nero could see from the start that the woman had a lot in common with Vera. Her face was both stern and angular, the very image of aristocratic ¡®bitch-face¡¯. Her light brown hair was elegantly arranged in a braid that wouldn¡¯t look out of place at a formal dinner. Even her robes were fine enough to make everyone in the room with her feel underdressed. She looked at most, 35 or 40, but Nero could just feel that she was likely much older than that. Her bright blue eyes were hard and judgemental, somewhat like a schoolteacher¡¯s. And her rigid posture made Nero unconsciously stand up straighter in response. ¡°It is a pleasure to meet you, my lord. The ceremony is on schedule, and guests have already begun to arrive. The call to service has been more successful than we thought it would be, and we¡¯ve had to arrange a few extra groupings as a result. Most likely, we should still be able to get through everyone today, but we¡¯ll have to see how many more last-minute arrivals there are. Do you have any questions concerning your role in the ceremony, or was the prepared schedule sufficient?¡± she asked in a calm and steady voice, sounding very much like an auctioneer explaining how the event she¡¯d planned would proceed. Feeling a little awkward in the presence of such overwhelming formality, Nero replied, ¡°No. No questions. I¡¯m ready to go, I guess.¡± He saw the barest flicker of her eyes toward his armor as she silently judged what he¡¯d decided to wear. However, she didn¡¯t let her feelings show, even in her essence field. Her emotional control was top-notch, almost robotic. ¡°Very well, my lord. If you will please follow me, I¡¯ll show you to the preparatory hall,¡± she said before turning tightly on her heel and walking off. Nero shared a glance with Mr. Cochran, who returned it with one of confusion. Thinking to himself, ¡®Sure, apparently I¡¯m the only one who thinks she¡¯s wound tighter than a hairball? This is really going to take some getting used to.¡¯ Walking through the hallways in silence, Nero could feel the ether in the house vibrating with expectations and excitement. The servants he saw barely paused on their way, merely offering him a slight bow before running off to complete whatever task they were doing. He didn¡¯t see Nick, Vera, or anyone else he recognized, and their absence was starting to make him nervous. Before long, he found himself waiting in another ridiculously large and ornate room. This one was filled with just as many chairs and couches as his bedroom, but this time arranged in rows like a meeting room. There were several pieces of art on the wall, each displaying landscapes of Dorchester from various towers and buildings. He¡¯d hoped to find someone he knew waiting for him, but instead found nothing but silence. Even Mrs. Warren didn¡¯t bother to stick around. She¡¯d merely told him that the ceremony would start in 23 minutes and he¡¯d be called to the main hall sometime after that. Without another word, she¡¯d given him a very delicate bow of her head before leaving, closing the door firmly behind her. Considering how large the door was, the sound of it shutting was enough to make Nero flinch. Not knowing what to do with himself, he found himself walking around the room, looking at the paintings. One in particular caught his eye. It was what he thought might be an oil painting, as his artistic knowledge was limited to a few Bob Ross shows he¡¯d watched while getting high with his friends in high school. He¡¯d never seen a painting this large up close. Or, if he had, he certainly didn¡¯t remember it. Like the others, it was of Dorchester, but something about it seemed different to him. Taking a closer look, he saw that it showed the city at dawn, with heavy shadows contrasting sharply with the reflected light off the tops of the buildings. He could see tiny people shown on the streets, the attention to detail rather breathtaking. Yet something about the painting called to him, urging him to look deeper. Having gotten familiar with delving, and him being who he was, he didn¡¯t think for a second about the consequences before reaching out with his mind and connecting with the painting¡¯s identity. As he did, his eyes widened in shock as not just his mind, but also the painting responded to his essence mingling with the painting. While he could ¡®sense¡¯ what was happening, he could also watch it happen in real-time on the canvas in front of him. Like watching a movie reel made up of individually crafted paintings, the scene in front of him changed. It started from the city before dawn broke, the buildings shrouded in shadow. Then, all at once, the first rays of light reached the city, bathing it in a new day. Along with the light, there was an omnipresent feeling of hope and promised potential that rang out in the ether. He could feel it. Somehow, he just knew that this had been painted before the city had suffered the rebellion. Even through the delve, he could sense the potent essence flowing through the city. Whoever had painted this had wanted to show that Dorchester was on the rise¡­ and that it would stand in defiance of the darkness. Then, it was over. His senses were once again back under his control and he yanked his mind away from the delve harshly. Stumbling back from the painting, he looked at the landscape in shock. Never in either of his lives had he felt something so moving and thought-provoking. It was like the first time he¡¯d seen the end of Shawshank Redemption, but a thousand times more powerful. Had anybody been around, it wouldn¡¯t have mattered, as he was speechless. For long minutes, he just stood in awe of the painting, reveling in the memory of what he¡¯d experienced. The painter had imbued such strong emotions into the work. There was pride there, at what the citizens had built, and what the city would one day become. His internal revelations were interrupted by the sound of the door to the room opening. Reluctantly turning away from his new favorite painting, he saw Vera standing alongside two servants entering the room. ¡°My lord, it is time,¡± she said in that forced professional tone she¡¯d recently adopted. Nodding absently, he replied, ¡°Alright, I¡¯m ready.¡± As he walked across the room to meet her in the middle, he looked over his shoulder one last time at the painting, still in awe of how freaking cool it was. Turning to Vera, he was about to ask her if she¡¯d ever experienced a painting like that, but he stopped himself. Something about the question just didn¡¯t seem right. Either he wanted to keep it to himself for the time being for some reason, or it just wasn¡¯t the right moment to bring it up. Regardless, he needed to get his head in the game and focus on the here and now. He was going to be presented as the head of House Walker in front of the entirety of the nobility while receiving the life oaths of everyone who¡¯d expressed an interest in following him. Before now, it was all, in his head, theoretical. But now, after today, he would forever be Lord Walker, ironically named one of the unique lords of Oglivarch, with his primary holdings in Dorchester. As he followed Vera through a door on the opposite wall he hadn¡¯t noticed, he thought to himself, ¡®Well, it¡¯s time to accept my role as a fancy pants. Now I just have to make sure everyone knows exactly what kind of fancy pants I¡¯m going to wear. I¡¯m going to be THE Lord Walker, the HEAD wacko of all the wackos!¡¯ Walking through the doors, his mental pep talk was interrupted by the sight of the main hall coming into focus. Calling it massive would be an understatement. The triangular ceiling was held up by arches supported by pillars running down both sides of the room. Essence lights attached to ornate shining steel chandeliers ran along the center. While the width of the room was more than impressive, it was the length of the room that really shocked him. It was nearly as long as the throne room in the keep¡­ maybe longer. Either way, the sides of the room were filled with people in fancy robes, being served drinks from servants holding silver trays. A large open area was in front of what could only be called a throne on an elevated platform. Nero was sure no one would argue if he referred to it as a dais. Nero had come from the side and was being led up onto the stairs toward the center of the dais. To the side of the throne stood Cathleen, Angleton, and the others. Each of them was dressed in their finery, even Knight Angleton wearing a robe bearing House Walker¡¯s colors. A memory of someone telling him that Angleton wouldn¡¯t be able to wear anything other than armor due to his oaths came to mind, but Nero didn¡¯t remember the details. His best guess was that now that he was out of the army, the rule no longer applied, but he wasn¡¯t entirely sure, nor was it the time to ask him about it. Regardless, it was only a fleeting thought, as he was more focused on the fact that everyone in the room¡­ hundreds of people¡­ they were all staring at him. Just like when he¡¯d given his oath to Dorchester at the keep, he felt the weight of the moment bearing down on him. Mentally calling up the schedule and instructions Vera had sent him through the link, Nero took his place in front of the throne on the dais. Looking out over the people arrayed throughout the room, he thought to himself, ¡®Well, if I ever in the future think that being a noble isn¡¯t that big of a deal, then the memory of this moment ought to remind me to get my head out of my ass.¡¯ Trying to maintain a calm outward appearance, Nero followed the instructions and turned to Vera, giving her a visible nod as he clasped his hands behind his back. From the side of the room, Vera walked over to the area just in front of him below the dais. Nero held back a smirk at seeing her looking so prim and proper. He¡¯d seen the woman roll her eyes enough at him not to be able to take her seriously, despite how professional she looked right now. ¡°Lords and nobles of Dorchester. We¡¯re gathered here today to witness the formal founding of House Walker as a noble house, not merely of Dorchester, but of all of Oglivarch. As a unique, Lord Walker will lead his house in service and defense of not just our city, but of the entire kingdom. The men and women who have chosen to follow him today will give up their citizenship to our great city, choosing to forever join their paths with Lord Walker¡¯s. It is a difficult path to give up all that they¡¯ve built to follow a unique lord into the unknown. Luckily for us, Lord Walker has taken up a quest from our council of leadership, pledging to aid us in our time of need. But that service is temporary, and the oaths given today will not be. So, to all you nobles here, and all the potential adherents who are listening outside, I would like to thank you for coming and witnessing this historic event. Now, to welcome you and to say a few words, I give you Lord Walker¡­ first of his house and our kingdom¡¯s newest unique!¡± she said loudly, projecting her voice throughout the hall with essence. Suddenly, Nero realized that he didn¡¯t know how to make his voice do that. Quickly looking over the schedule, he realized he was supposed to be giving his welcoming speech after she was done introducing him. ¡®Well shit¡­ if someone doesn¡¯t provide me a mike stand or something, this is going to get real frickin¡¯ awkward¡­ real frickin¡¯ quick,¡¯ he said to himself with no small amount of panic. Chapter 231 - Its not what I do that matters... The king sat on the stone bench in his favorite garden spot, rubbing his chin in thought while he mentally reviewed his kingdom. His plan to dismantle the Tower of Fate was proceeding well, especially after the Queen and his harem had gotten their hands on the project. He¡¯d known it would have happened eventually, it was an inevitability. However, he¡¯d also hoped to have some more time before they stuck their noses into it. Their plans were rarely, if ever, subtle. The fighting with the centaurs was going well. No surprise there, as the region had plenty of experience dealing with them. His plans for Oglivarch¡¯s coast were going well. The issue with the Kuchali raiders was being handled like he¡¯d expected it would be. Even the war with Islangur seemed to be progressing according to what he¡¯d expected. He¡¯d seen no evidence of the disruptions to fate that the fateweavers and his grandfather¡¯s toy had been worried about. In fact, all his plans were going well. Between the fate calculations he¡¯d done, and his ability to monitor his entire kingdom, everything was being taken care of. Well, everything other than the matter with the dwarves¡­ and Dorchester. That little city was slowly becoming a major source of disruption. It seemed like every day he had to recalculate his plans there. And to make matters worse, its influence was spreading. It all came down to the anomaly and his fateless existence. He¡¯d thought it was simply a matter of the young man not having sufficient presence yet in the ether to be accounted for, but now he was thinking he might have been mistaken. This Lord Walker had been on this plane for long enough that his actions should be able to be predicted¡­ but for some reason, he simply couldn¡¯t. The king had been following the events of Dorchester and had witnessed many of the anomaly¡¯s exploits firsthand. He¡¯d even predicted a few. So, why was it that the situation continually felt more and more out of his control? Why was there such a profound effect on the plan for his cooperation with the dwarves? How had the anomaly¡¯s influence spread so quickly through Hennings? And how did the anomaly¡¯s status as a unique get confirmed so quickly? When looked at individually, he could see how each and every event logically followed from the initial conditions. However, taken together, the math just didn¡¯t work out. Or, more accurately, it couldn¡¯t have been accurately predicted. It was as if the anomaly¡¯s presence was an unstable variable, and he had absolutely no idea how he should feel about that. It was both exciting and exasperating in equal measure. Through his perception, he noticed that the anomaly¡¯s life oath ceremony was starting and quickly put aside his contemplations for the moment. He wanted to hear what the young man had to say, unsure if he actually wanted his predictions to come true. While it would be nice to see his efforts proven effective, he also wondered if he could ¡®see¡¯ fate being disrupted if he looked closely enough. As he watched the young man being introduced, he looked over the crowd, sensing their emotional states, and interpreting their thoughts. He could see that many nobles were only there to be seen as participants, while others were there to evaluate the potential for their individual schemes to be disrupted. On the whole, the ceremony was proceeding as he expected. Then, the young man began to speak. His presence filled the room like a fog, pressing down on everyone in attendance. It was a surprisingly skilled display of essence control. But what really caught his attention was what the young man was saying. For a moment, he felt like he was listening to his grandfather¡¯s words of warnings about hubris and its dangers being played out like a story. It was odd to see someone so young and carefree displaying so much wisdom and self-awareness. It was no wonder the young man was leveling so quickly. He could feel the essence in the hall where Lord Walker was giving his speech becoming more and more turbulent. The nobles were being forced to confront some harsh truths while the anomaly stripped his own legend down the bedrock. He was surprised to find himself enjoying watching something he hadn¡¯t expected to happen in real-time¡­ despite how much of an effect it had on all of his schemes. The king knew for a fact that his plans to set up the anomaly as a figurehead or a martyr were now ruined. Hours of his calculations were thrown out the window due to a few spoken words. No matter what he did, the temples would no longer go along with it. He could possibly get the nobility to target the anomaly¡¯s sub-house Verena, but he doubted it. That woman, Lady Verena, was too crafty to fall for that. So, the plan he¡¯d had for economic development he¡¯d had was now pointless. Without cause, the nobles wouldn¡¯t be looking for outside investment. The Blackwood and Cranston plot was dead before it even had a chance to blossom. Even his recently developed plans to ease the expected tensions between the nobles and the dwarves by pitting them both against the anomaly were looking less and less likely. He wasn¡¯t sure how they¡¯d resolve the conflict with their mountain, but he somehow knew that they would. If anything, the dwarves would probably end up assisting the young man in overthrowing the council of leadership if he asked them to as payment. Laughing out loud at the anomaly¡¯s final declaration, he muttered to himself, ¡°Well¡­ this should prove to be interesting.¡± ¡ª-- Thinking quickly, Nero reached out through his link to the first person he thought of, Nick. He put so much emotional weight into the ping, that the connection felt more like a bullet being launched through the Thought Hub than a request to talk. The moment Nick accepted the connection, Nero shouted, ¡°Nick, I don¡¯t know how to do that voice projection thing! What should I do?¡± Nick¡¯s presence seemed to buckle a little under Nero¡¯s emotional assault, but only for a moment. Once it stabilized, Nick replied, ¡°What? Of course you do¡­ you¡¯ve done it before, remember?¡± On the outside, Nero did his best to maintain a calm and controlled expression. To the audience in the hall, he hoped it looked like he was just waiting for Vera to finish walking over to the side of the room before he began speaking. However, on the inside, he was filled with confusion and panic. ¡°What the hell are you talking about? When?¡± Possibly sensing Nero¡¯s need for clear and precise answers, Nick surprisingly kept his reply quick and to the point. ¡°When you addressed the forces from the penal conscripts, and then also when you spoke to the wackos in the common room. It¡¯s mostly a matter of intention. I guess you were doing it naturally. No matter. To project your voice to people, you just need to infuse your center into what you are saying. Just hold on to your center as if you were about to cast a spell, then think about who you are addressing. With all of your identity, ¡®will¡¯ them to hear you.¡± Most likely feeling Nero¡¯s uncertainty, Nick added in a supportive tone, ¡°Don¡¯t worry, you can do this. Think about it, you¡¯ve been doing it without even meaning to. Just trust yourself, and project your voice to everyone here. The scale isn¡¯t nearly as important as your connection to the ether, which I assure you is more than sufficient to reach everyone here.¡± Nero unconsciously nodded to himself. Luckily for him, to the nobles and the rest of the audience, he looked like he was mentally preparing himself to address them. Firming his shoulders, he stood as tall as a 5¡¯4¡¯¡¯ young man could and willed his voice to fill the room. He could feel his center churning, its inherent connection with the ether pulsing in tune with the ambient essence. ¡°As Vera said, thank you all for coming. To be honest, I don¡¯t really know why you¡¯re all here. My knowledge of local customs is still a work in progress,¡± he began, his voice practically roaring through the room, completely misjudging how much intention he needed to project his voice. Unfortunately, he couldn¡¯t exactly judge how loud he was being from his place on the dais, so he continued along at the same uncomfortable volume. While he wasn¡¯t exactly ¡®shaking the rafters¡¯, his volume was just above a regular speaking voice, causing everyone to unconsciously wince a little. To them, he sounded more like an authority figure giving out a sentence rather than a colleague expressing his welcome.Unauthorized duplication: this narrative has been taken without consent. Report sightings. Nero, completely focused on the moment, had closed off his connection with Nick, and even temporarily put aside Vera¡¯s instructions. Despite feeling several pings coming in, he ignored them, not willing to be distracted. With his hands on his hips, he stood somewhat casually on the dais, trying his best to speak from the heart. ¡°While many of you probably know my history, most of you probably don¡¯t. Since coming back to Dorchester after our recent fight with the kobalds, I¡¯ve had a chance to explore the Thought Hub and see how people interact here in Dorchester. Luckily, I¡¯m not the number one trending topic at the moment, but I was surprised to see so many people discussing me,¡± he said somewhat sarcastically. Many people in the audience frowned in confusion as the world¡¯s translation magic tried to keep up with his use of phrases they weren¡¯t familiar with. Not waiting for people to catch up mentally, Nero continued, ¡°A lot of rumors are going around about me that I¡¯ve only heard mentioned in passing. But now, having seen the effect it is having on people, I feel like I should set the record straight.¡± Crossing his arms, Nero looked away from the audience to stare off at the ceiling in thought. Choosing his words carefully, he said, ¡°It¡¯s not wrong to say that I¡¯m not a native. In fact, before a few months ago, I wasn¡¯t even on this planet¡­ plane¡­ whatever. Both Archmage Jennings and my buddy Nick, or as many of you know him as Lord Salvatore-Verena, they both know all about it. They¡¯ve helped me piece together a few things that I¡¯d like to share with you all. Back in my old life, I died young. While my soul was in the afterlife, or what you call the outer planes, I saw this¡­ let¡¯s call it a ¡®universe¡¯. As best we can tell, when I crossed over here, I ended up floating around without a body. According to Jennings¡­ Archmage Jennings that is, I was in that state for quite some time. Now, why am I telling you all this? Well, many people are convinced that I¡¯m here due to some god¡¯s plan, or fate itself taking a hand in things. Others think that I¡¯m from some other far-off kingdom. A few of the crazier theories even have me labeled as an undead or some kind of planar invader,¡± he said with some humor, practically chuckling at the thought of being some kind of transmigrated lich or something from one of the online webcomics he used to read. ¡°Now, as far as I can tell, this ceremony is supposed to be about welcoming people who want to follow me, and you are all here to witness their life oaths or whatever. So, I figured this was my last chance to set the record straight before I end up on trial, or triad, for false advertising or something,¡± he added with a frown. Taking a few deep breaths to center himself, he continued, ¡°I¡¯m just a guy. I have no knowledge of what I went through in the upper planes. I don¡¯t remember meeting any gods, or bargaining with the forces of fate. To my knowledge, I wasn¡¯t sent here for any purpose or destiny. Just like all of you, I¡¯m figuring it out as I go. When I woke up here, I was in the body of a recently dead young man who¡¯d had a pretty rough life from what I¡¯ve heard. After his soul went off to wherever it was supposed to go, I took over. Apparently, my soul was pretty strong, and it had enough spare energy to kickstart my healing. There is no evidence of divine intervention or anything like that. I¡¯m not undead¡­ My center counselor had me tested. I¡¯m human, right down to my soul. Maybe what I went through made me a little different. Maybe the ability which earned me my unique title is due to my extraplanar origins, I couldn¡¯t possibly tell you. But, rest assured, I came here with no grand plan or backing. I¡¯m not the first wave of an invasion or a link to the upper planes. I¡¯ll reiterate it one more time for those of you who are hard of hearing¡­ I¡¯m just a guy¡­ an everyday, run of the mill¡­ guy! So, when I woke up and found myself in a new world, I went with the flow. The army found me, took me to a center, and I tried my best to figure out what was going on. After that, one thing led to another, and I ended up sticking my nose into that little noble war we had. If you want to know why? Blame it on ignorance of local customs and the fact that I¡¯m not the kind of guy who¡¯d stand by and watch a lady get smacked around. I¡¯m in a world of magic and danger, and I¡¯m not planning on sitting on the sidelines, being a passive observer. I¡¯m an adventurer at heart, and adventurers aren¡¯t known for their restraint. After that, well¡­ chance and luck ended up rewarding me with a title and a bunch of seed money. With the help of Nick and Vera, the Salvatore-Verenas, I did my best to adjust. I wasn¡¯t all that used to being a commoner, or whatever it is you call a non-noble, so it wasn¡¯t all that difficult. Then, some ass-¡± he cut himself off, coughing into his hand. Remembering where he was, and the severity of the moment, he changed what he was going to say, ¡°... Some less-than-nice people decided to try and kill me in the arena. My response wasn¡¯t a calculated move to embarrass the nobility or gain fame. That bit about me leveraging my assets to bet on myself was just a last-minute gambit that paid off. From there, I joined the elites because of some noble trials or other such nonsense and ended up facing the kobalds¡­ after another assassination attempt by some other¡­ ¡®jerks¡¯ that is. I didn¡¯t ¡®nobly stand in defiance of the wilds¡¯ like some of the more eloquent people on the Thought Hub are claiming. I was just in the right place and at the right time with the ability to make a difference. Nothing more, nothing less. Things got a little more hectic after that. I ended up being labeled as a unique and found myself once again on the front lines. That whole thing with the penal forces was basically just a misunderstanding. Put simply, I found the sacrificing of people for some poorly thought-out plan¡­ annoying¡­ and more to the point¡­ unnecessary. I can¡¯t say it any plainer than this¡­ I was NOT making a statement. Honestly, I don¡¯t have the cultural background to understand half of what you people do. Your class system is completely outside of my experience. While I might think classes are stupid, they seem to be working well enough here¡­ however the hell that is possible. For me, I¡¯ve been lucky enough to have a few people around me who know what they¡¯re doing. Vera Salvatore-Verena is a genius when it comes to anything having to do with business. So, any and all successes I¡¯ve had on that front can be attributed to her. Nick, her husband, is a good friend of mine and often the voice of reason for me. He¡¯s always been there to explain the local weirdness to me, helping me navigate this unfamiliar world. I honestly don¡¯t know what I¡¯d do without him,¡± he said with no small amount of feeling tinging his voice. Shaking off the heavy tone he¡¯d fallen into, he continued on with a chuckle, ¡°Then there¡¯s Cathleen Averett. She¡¯s a warrior woman through and through. When it comes to fighting, she¡¯s taught me all I know, and she¡¯s the one who¡¯s basically been leading House Walker¡¯s forces. So, if there is anyone to thank for what we¡¯ve accomplished in the dust-up with the kobalds¡­ it¡¯s her. The point I¡¯m trying to make is that I¡¯m not some kind of divine protector sent down from the heavens to save you or this city. I¡¯m just a guy lucky enough to have made a few friends since I got here. House Walker is a team, and I¡¯m just the guy whose name is on the door. I¡¯m all about two things¡­ magic and adventure. I love this world¡¯s crazy power system, despite how annoying and nonsensical it can be at times. In my old world, there weren¡¯t monsters or beasts or causes that were black and white. But here, there are. The kobalds are a threat I don¡¯t have to feel bad about eviscerating, and the laws are set up in a way that I can legally defend myself from the less-than-nice people coming after me by putting their heads on a pike. This world is everything I hoped it was and more. And I¡¯m intending to see it all. I¡¯m going to travel, fight the good fight, earn my fortune, and bag me a few princesses¡­ metaphorically speaking of course. So, all you nobles here in this room, and anyone else out there who might be listening in over the Thought Hub, you can stop guessing and theorizing about what my being here means¡­ I¡¯m not all that complicated. I¡¯ll be fighting the kobalds just like many of the good people of Dorchester will be, trying to keep my head on my shoulders and the people standing next to me alive. I¡¯m no savior, just another guy trying to make a small bit of difference. If people still want to follow me after knowing all that, I¡¯m not going to complain¡­¡± he finished with a sigh, before smirking and adding, ¡°After all, we¡¯re all in this together, right?¡± Seeing as everyone was still staring at him intensely, he figured it was about time he got to the point. Squaring his shoulders, he planted his fists on his hips and said, ¡°So, in conclusion. Thank you all for coming. I¡¯m sorry if I¡¯m not what you thought I was. I have no intention of living up to anyone¡¯s expectations other than my own. I¡¯m an adventurer mage who¡¯s going to master magic, travel the world in style when I figure out how to build my personal traveling tower, and gather a few friends while I do so. If anyone wants to come along, you¡¯re more than welcome.¡± Caught up in his speech, Nero forgot for a moment that he was trying to be serious. ¡°There¡¯ll be plenty of assholes to kill, people to save, money to earn, and sights to see. Monsters and beasties will tremble when they hear that House Walker is coming¡­ That the wackos of Lord Walker are here and hungry for adventure!¡± Spreading his arms wide with a crazy smile on his face, he proclaimed, ¡°So, welcome to House Walker, where our house¡¯s words are not just a statement, but a way of life. Game! Win! Repeat! Noble causes and pretty words come and go, but actions and adventures are eternal! Now, let¡¯s get this ceremony over with as I¡¯ve got kobalds to kill and beer money to earn!¡± The entire room was in silence, well over a hundred people standing in quiet contemplation. A lord¡¯s welcoming speech was typically nothing more than a short statement about how he was happy to have so many people here to witness his house¡¯s founding, along with a few brief statements demonstrating his house¡¯s loyalty and intentions to dutifully serve Oglivarch. It was not supposed to be a heart-to-heart with the entire city¡¯s nobility. The essence flows in the room were roiling in conflict with each other, the confused but emotional states of so many people bumping into each other like boats in a storm. Whatever anybody thought he¡¯d say, it hadn¡¯t been that. Having said his piece, Nero reopened the schedule, eager to get on with the ceremony¡­ that was if anybody still wanted to pledge themselves to him that is. According to what he was reading, he was supposed to now be introducing Cathleen, who was serving as his house¡¯s ostensible leader, despite Vera basically being the one in charge of everything. But, before he could say anything, a gruff but powerful voice shattered the somewhat awkward silence, ¡°By Thronkin¡¯s stubby axe on a chair, I¡¯ve heard of honest humans, but I¡¯d never thought I¡¯d actually meet one! Good on you, lad! Clan Mithrilstrike will help you clear out those smooth-skinned abominations out of your mountain, or my name isn¡¯t Mavros Mithrilstrike! We¡¯ll see our mountain range clear of these beasties, don¡¯t you worry!¡± From the area around where that voice originated, Nero heard a small but powerful group of voices break out into cheers. While he couldn¡¯t see who was talking, he could just imagine a group of roughneck assholes raising their beers and grabbing their guns from the back of their pick-up trucks. Chuckling to himself at the mental image they evoked, he thought to himself, ¡®Well, this ought to be interesting¡­¡¯ Chapter 232 - Welcome to the family... we have donuts. Dwarven legend holds that they have been on this plane since the beginning. When the plane¡¯s crafters came together to forge the world, they left behind the dwarves to give their work meaning. Through their love of exploring, mining, crafting, and fighting¡­ they were inextricably tied to this material realm. It was a universally accepted belief that dwarves lived for the challenges the world constantly put in front of them. Whether it was a previously unknown ore that needed to be rigorously experimented on to unlock its secrets or one of the inevitable disasters that appeared from the dark below, they faced what came with unrivaled enthusiasm. In fact, they did everything with enthusiasm. To other races, the dwarves seemed impulsive, even brash. But that was just because they were very much like the ground that they lived in. They were stubborn and set in their ways. It took a great deal of effort to get them to change their minds, or do something they didn¡¯t want to. Wherever they chose to point themselves, they went headlong into that direction as if it were their only choice. When they drank¡­ they drank. When they held a grudge, even their grandchildren would remember who¡¯d wronged them. And when they pledged their support¡­ it was eternal. So, it shouldn¡¯t have been a surprise to anyone that after Mavros Milthrilspike declared his support of House Walker¡¯s vendetta against the kobalds under the mountain, he fully intended to follow through with it. With his arms crossed over his chest, he glared up at the surrounding nobles, barely listening to what they were saying. He could tell that they were nervous about something or another, but humans were always making a big deal out of nothing. Cutting off the conversation harshly, Mavos declared, ¡°None of that matters now. You say the lad owns the mountain you intended to give us. That¡¯s fine. It will be him that I¡¯ll be speaking to, not any of you! I can tell just by listening to him that he won¡¯t be trying to sell me a cracked hammer. You lot need to get your heads out of your asses and learn how to speak plainly if you want to have relations with my clan in the future. We Mithrilspikes don¡¯t do politics. We¡¯re honest dwarves and when we offer someone something, you can bet your pale shaven asses that it''s ours to offer!¡± Stomping away, Mavros ignored the insulted sputterings of the nobles behind him. ¡®Useless human wastes of essence,¡¯ he thought to himself. Behind him, he could feel the boots of his fellow dwarves following him. From just over his shoulder on his right, he heard Ironwick ask gruffly, ¡°So, you intend to end our agreement with the human king and speak directly with this Walker? I¡¯m not sure that he has the authority to even sell you his mountain. After all, it is within the human king¡¯s kingdom.¡± Waving his hand as if Ironwick¡¯s concerns were irrelevant, Mavros replied, ¡°It doesn¡¯t matter. The king¡¯s lackeys tried to offer us a mountain they didn¡¯t own. I¡¯m not going to wait for them to bargain with the lad. It¡¯s a waste of time we don¡¯t have. We need to get my clan working as soon as possible. Otherwise, we might end up relying on the humans to clear out the kobalds. I¡¯m not willing to start off our new relationship with us in their debt. I¡¯d much rather have them owing us. Besides, you heard the young human¡¯s speech. He¡¯s not the type to waste time speaking nonsense.¡± From the other side of Mavros, his advisor, Noxie Crusher spoke up, ¡°The council of kings made the deal with the human king, not us. I don¡¯t think anyone here has even read the damn thing. Who knows what kind of bureaucratic nightmare they¡¯ll be dealing with after this cock-up.¡± Practically growling, Mavros muttered loudly, ¡°Titan-shit bastards had the gall to sell us a mountain they didn¡¯t even own! They expect us to just wait for them to get their tools in order?!? I¡¯ve half a mind to take my axe to the lot of them and return to their capital for an explanation!¡± The dwarves behind him, having overheard the conversation started muttering their agreement while offering their own inventive suggestions on how best to end the scheming humans. Speaking awkwardly, as though he wasn¡¯t used to being the one to calm anyone down, Ironwick replied, ¡°I don¡¯t know about all that. We should probably just send word to the council of kings and see what they want us to do. By the way¡­ do you even know where you¡¯re going?¡± The entire group stumbled into each other behind Mavros Mithrilstirke as he came to an abrupt halt. Looking around, he saw that he¡¯d led them into a large hallway filled with closed doors. The artwork on the walls was all very human and ¡®pretty¡¯. Turning his head back and forth awkwardly as he glanced up and down the hallway, Mavros muttered, ¡°There¡¯s supposed to be a reception room or something where we¡¯ll be able to meet with the lad after he¡¯s done accepting people into his clan¡­ or his house¡­ or whatever they call it.¡± Ironwick replied sarcastically, ¡°Yeah, I remember. I was there when that lass told you. But do you know where it is? Or were you just storming off to make a statement?¡± Rounding on Ironwick, Mavros raised his voice loud enough to shake one of the ornate vases along the walls off its stand, ¡°Don¡¯t you be sassing me, you thin-bearded bastard! I just got turned around is all. I know where I¡¯m going!¡± Chuckling, Crusher replied, ¡°Sure you do, but on the off chance that you don¡¯t, maybe we can just ask one of the humans hiding behind the fancy wall rugs.¡± As a group, the dwarves turned in unison to look at where Crusher was pointing. They could see several human servants trying and failing to hide behind a tapestry while the dwarves took up a majority of the hallway. Mavros raised his bushy eyebrows in surprise as he couldn¡¯t understand what the tall, bony unarmored humans were so afraid of. Before he had a chance to ask them, he heard a strong voice from behind his group say, ¡°King Mithrilstrike, I believe I can show you to the reception hall if that¡¯s where you were headed.¡± Narrowing his eyes, Mavros glared at the head of the human guards who¡¯d been trailing his little group. ¡°Yes. That¡¯ll be fine I suppose,¡± he agreed, his tone indicating that he was somewhat unhappy having to accept the guard¡¯s help. Shoving his way back through the dwarves he¡¯d just been leading, he glared up at the human and asked, ¡°How long is this oath-giving ceremony supposed to last? When can I expect to meet with Lord Walker?¡± Leading the group back the way they came, the guard replied, ¡°Several hours, King Mithrilstrike. After which Lord Walker is expected to receive his guests in the grand ballroom. At that time, I¡¯m sure you¡¯ll be able to find a moment to speak with him, or at least schedule an appointment with his house¡¯s manager.¡± Grumbling loudly about stupid, pointless human rituals, Mavros stomped down the hallway back the way he came. Behind him, the other dwarves followed in a loose formation, looking more like a war party than guests at a fancy function. ¡ª-- While at first, Nero was happy to find that according to the schedule, his main responsibility was to look as ¡®lordly¡¯ as possible, sit on the fancy-ass throne, and ¡®oversee¡¯ the ceremony, but after the first 20 minutes, he felt like he¡¯d rather be anywhere else but here. Seeing groups of people declaring their undying loyalty to him one after another was way more exhausting than he¡¯d thought it would be. As his house¡¯s manager and battle leader, Cathleen Averett was basically running the show. She was the one calling out names while doling out subtle gestures to keep everything moving. With her professional demeanor and formal robes, she currently looked nothing like the warrior woman he was used to seeing her as. While she acted as the master of ceremonies, Vera Salvatore-Verena was handling everything in the background. She along with her husband, the newly titled Lord Nicholas Salvatore-Verena, had been the first up to declare their loyalty to his house, the newly formed House Walker. As his first friends, it was an extremely uncomfortable moment for him to see them bowing and declaring their subservience. Yet, he understood the need. As a ¡®unique¡¯, his house was basically above the local houses. Or more accurately, by law, he wasn¡¯t allowed to have a local presence. To get around that annoying fact, Vera had arranged for his local assets to be brought under the umbrella of Nick¡¯s house, House Verena. So, in a way, he¡¯d flat-out bought their loyalty. As his newly dubbed under-house, they were beholden to him. Even if it was only on paper, this arrangement would allow him to continue to receive his profits from the assets he had in Dorchester. From here on in, he¡¯d be getting his cut while not having to do anything¡­ not that he¡¯d been doing all that much with the businesses to begin with. Vera had been the one with the business sense, and she was the one who¡¯d been practically running his life up to this point. Even now, she was the one who¡¯d arranged for the ceremony they were holding. She was also the one who¡¯d hired the servants, recruited his followers, invited the nobles, and arranged for the caterers. Hell, the only reason he knew where he was supposed to be sitting was because Vera had taken the time to write out a detailed event schedule from his perspective. ¡®I¡¯m really going to miss having her around when I eventually leave Dorchester,¡¯ he noted to himself before shaking off the troubling thought.This tale has been unlawfully lifted from Royal Road. If you spot it on Amazon, please report it. Mentally returning to the moment at hand, Nero tried to keep his expression as dignified as possible while he listened to the most recent group¡¯s life oath. Cathleen¡¯s voice filled the hall well, her tone as serious as he¡¯d ever heard her, ¡°Do you agree to give up your citizenship, savings, and responsibilities to serve House Walker, faithfully following its lord wherever he shall lead?¡± In unison, the kneeling group of men and women replied, ¡°We do!¡± ¡°Do you agree to forever join your path with his, letting him lead while you follow?¡± she asked. ¡°We do!¡± they replied fervently. Nero stifled the grimace he felt at their devotion, not remotely understanding how they could give up their families, their money¡­ their LIVES just to serve him. Conceptually, he understood the concept of fealty and whatnot. However, he¡¯d never thought he¡¯d actually be witnessing someone agreeing to it, let alone with the intention of following a guy like him! Cathleen continued on like a doctor informing a patient of the danger they were agreeing to. She asked them if they were sure about all kinds of ridiculous things, like putting his life before theirs, and even the needs of House Walker before their own. Their future earnings would be his to claim, and their livelihoods would be his to decide. It sounded like the absolutely dumbest bargain he¡¯d ever heard, and he could barely contain his moral outrage at hearing them wholeheartedly agreeing to it. Yet, he said nothing, because what was there to say? He¡¯d already made it clear who he was and what he intended to do. They knew what they were signing up for. It was their society that was screwed up. In the end, it had very little to do with him. ¡®Other than me being the guy sitting in the big-ass chair and accepting their eternal servitude,¡¯ he noted to himself sarcastically. The only good thing about how long it was taking was that he still had access to his link. Using it to connect to the Dorchester Thought Hub, he was able to peruse the city¡¯s version of the internet. Now that he¡¯d gotten used to how it worked, he was able to find a lot of the answers to the questions that he currently had. For one, he hadn¡¯t understood why there were so many different versions of the oaths he was hearing. When he¡¯d first heard about the ceremony, he¡¯d had Nick try to explain to him how the different levels of followers worked, but it had gone through one ear and out the other like most of the nonsense the man usually prattled on and on about. But now, with the Thought Hub, he was able to look it up himself. The Thought Hub was surprisingly easy to navigate once he¡¯d allowed his mind to sink deeper into it. All it took was for him to send out his intention, and the system filtered the relevant information for him. The only difficult part about it was that he had to maintain the calm and lordly look on his face while his brain was busy surfing the Thought Hub. Luckily, he had plenty of time as the ceremony was being done in small groups of ten people at most. Literally, everyone who would be associated with House Walker had their turn. Although they would all technically be associated with House Walker, there were many categories. The household staff who would be maintaining the Walker Estate were labeled as ¡®servants¡¯. Their oaths were limited to keeping House Walker¡¯s secrets and loyally doing their duties as long as they worked for him. Only a few of the higher ranks needed oaths of any greater significance. And none of them were going to be going with him after he left the city. Basically, the servants were just like hired staff who were responsible for maintaining his estate. Above them came the ¡®adherents¡¯ who were required to take seriously restrictive oaths of service. They tied their futures to House Walker under the penalty of losing everything they gained while working for him. While they still had their private lives and previous savings, as long as they were under House Walker¡¯s banner, everything they did would be pooled in a fund for his benefit. As such, they would have their expenses covered by House Walker, and their private assets frozen. While not necessarily a lifetime commitment, it was still pretty harsh as far as Nero could tell. In many ways, he thought it sounded like signing up for military service¡­ but without a paycheck. Then came the ¡®followers¡¯ who would be associated with House Walker but not directly under him. Nick and Vera were in this category. Their house, House Verena, would be in charge of them. They were people who, while still part of House Walker, would only be representatives of his interests. Their oaths were both to House Walker and to a lesser extent House Verena. They would be the backbone of his Dorchester faction. According to the files he looked up, they were mostly accountants, lawyers, business leaders, and middle managers. While still citizens of Dorchester, they were required to serve his under-house, House Verena. Vera would be using them to run his businesses for him and manage his estate. Last but not least were his wackos. Formally they were defined as ¡®oathsworn¡¯, but nominally still called followers. They gave up their livelihoods and turned over their assets for the right to follow him across the greater kingdom, Oglivarch, as his personal forces. They would have no city to call home, nor any family ties to anyone outside House Walker. For those with criminal records, their societal debt would be transferred wholly over to him, to use as he saw fit. Yet, surprisingly, there were quite a few people who chose this level of service despite not being criminals. These were the people who were giving up everything to follow him. Cathleen and the few people who had been running his house while in the field were the first to take their oaths. After which, the wackos one by one lined up and gave theirs. These oaths were permanent and legally binding. According to what he read, once given, it was practically impossible to break them. When he¡¯d first coined the term ¡®wackos¡¯, he¡¯d meant it as a comedic interpretation of what kind of mindset it took to be an adventurer. Having stated that he intended his House to be ¡®The Walker Adventuring Company¡¯, it had just been too good of a joke not to use it. The wackos of the W.A.C. It had been perfect. But now, he found it ironic how he couldn¡¯t stop thinking about how crazy someone would have to be to agree to the oaths he was hearing. They were giving up everything just so they could serve him. He¡¯d even gone out of his way to explain to them in detail why he wasn¡¯t fit to lead them, and still they had stubbornly taken a knee and signed their lives away. Wackos¡­ every one of them. While the ceremony continued on around him, he sat like a lump on his oversized throne and tried not to look at anyone too judgmentally. After reading all about what an ¡®honor¡¯ it was to serve a unique, and about all the ¡®benefits¡¯ that went along with the position, he realized he would simply never understand what they were thinking. This society was all about ¡®paths¡¯ and what they thought it took to ¡®walk¡¯ them. Somehow they¡¯d gotten it into their head that following someone who was leveling quickly, was special, or had a promising future would somehow help them with their own path by association. While he didn¡¯t necessarily disagree, he remained pretty skeptical about that spiritually optimistic conclusion. Regardless, as the hours passed and the ceremony went on, he took comfort in the fact that this farce would soon be over and he¡¯d be able to get back to doing something more productive. Like killing kobalds and playing with his magic¡­ maybe finally finding out what magical beer tasted like. When the ceremony finally started wrapping up, the schedule informed him that he was unfortunately going to have to start participating. Standing up from his throne, he awkwardly took a moment to shake out his sleeping legs to get the blood moving again. Seeing the people running the show quickly arranging everything, he stepped up to take his assigned place at the front of the dais. Reading off of the script, he used his essence to once again project his voice throughout the hall, ¡°Your oaths have been heard, and accepted. Henceforth, know that you are part of House Walker, and together we shall rise. Now, as members of my house, come forth to receive your cloaks of service and our crest. Wear them both with pride, knowing that you are now sworn to a unique house of Oglivarch, representing its will with your every action.¡± Waiting patiently, Nero watched as Cathleen gestured harshly at several people immediately causing them to scurry around like stagehands. Rolling tables filled with cloaks were wheeled out, along with large ornate metal tubs filled with what looked like patches in the shape of his house¡¯s crest. Then, surprisingly quickly, one by one the people that had sworn oaths to him lined up in front of him. Following the schedule, he began handing them a crest while servants draped one of the cloaks over their shoulders. ¡°Hold to your oaths and don this with pride and honor,¡± he repeated over and over again, the words slowly losing their meaning with the repetition. He felt like a principal handing out diplomas to the overly happy graduates he¡¯d had nothing to do with teaching. Each and every person he handed a crest to received them with cupped hands and disgustingly reverent looks on their faces. Considering that there were well over three hundred people involved, it took him quite a long time to get through everyone. When it was finally over, he looked out over a sea of teal cloaks and shouted, ¡°For House Walker! For Oglivarch!¡± He had to stifle a chuckle as he read on the schedule, ¡®Wait for applause to die down¡¯. After a good thirty seconds of cheering, the crowd simmered down and he added, ¡°Now, for all those who''ve joined House Walker, you may return to your duties. For those guests who are in attendance, please join me in the receiving hall for refreshments and entertainment. Thank you one and all for coming to see the birth of House Walker. May the legend of its rise be remembered.¡± Having successfully gotten to the end of his scheduled duties, he rushed off the dais. Like a performer having finished his set, Nero hid behind one of the pillars and gave a full-bodied shiver to mentally break himself away from the noble persona he¡¯d just been forced to channel. After a few minutes where he spent some time actively disassociating from reality, he noticed Vera and Cathleen walking up to him. With a tremble in his voice, he asked, ¡°That¡¯s it, right? I¡¯m done? The schedule doesn¡¯t have anything else on it, so that means it¡¯s over. Please tell me I don¡¯t have to go back out there!¡± Both women exchanged a look before Vera replied, ¡°Yes, the ceremony is finished. And aside from the¡­ inventive speech you gave at the beginning, you did well enough. Now, you¡¯ll just have to spend some time in the reception hall, thanking those nobles who¡¯d taken time out of their day to witness this event. After that, I believe you have a meeting scheduled with your house¡¯s leadership.¡± Groaning like a child being told that he couldn¡¯t take off the annoying tie his mother had made him wear just yet, he asked, ¡°Do I have to?¡± Cathleen¡¯s harsh voice replied, ¡°Of course not. You¡¯re a unique lord of Oglivarch. You don¡¯t have to do anything you don¡¯t wish to do.¡± Narrowing his eyes at her, he said, ¡°Sure. But there would be consequences, wouldn¡¯t there? I¡¯d look like an asshole bucking tradition or something, and I can¡¯t see it being a good idea to blow off my house¡¯s first official meeting.¡± Vera smirked and replied, ¡°Very true, my lord. All actions have consequences, even inactions. Whether you like it or not, you are the face of House Walker, and you need to present yourself as such.¡± Glaring at her, he replied, ¡°Fine. But there at least better be something worth eating at this so-called reception.¡± Gesturing at them to indicate that they should lead the way, he added in a mutter, ¡°At least if this were a wedding there¡¯d be wedding cake. I¡¯ll probably end up having to eat a ¡®ceremony sausage¡¯ or something equally ridiculous.¡± Chapter 233 - A wild dwarf appears! Growing up under her mother, who could truly be described as a living legend, City Lord Heleema Cosgrave had learned everything she could about politics. While her idiotic siblings had focused on the accolades they could earn through combat and business, she knew that true power came from understanding one¡¯s self and those around you. That was the key to success in politics. That wasn¡¯t to say that combat ability and reputation weren¡¯t important, but they were infinitely more effective when wielded by a political mind. Knowing ¡®when¡¯ to strike was just, if not more important than knowing ¡®how¡¯, both in battle and in the public¡¯s perception. Luckily, she¡¯d taken steps to appear on Lord Walker¡¯s side, or at best neutral to his presence in her city. She¡¯d even gone so far as to sacrifice both her heirs to appease him after they moronically chose to act against him. ¡®Confronting an opponent you don¡¯t thoroughly understand is both premature and idiotic,¡¯ she reminded herself, quoting her mother. True, she¡¯d arranged several challenges for his new house, despite it having been recently categorized as a unique house due to his upgraded status. She¡¯d tried to use intermediaries to reduce the influence of his shipping business, but Vera Salvatore-Verena had handled that plot before it had even started. She¡¯d tried limiting the number of essence crystals the trading posts his house had set up could legally hold, but that also failed due to the Tower of Law¡¯s intervention. And while she couldn¡¯t be sure, she was reasonably certain that Lady Verena was behind that as well. The woman was frighteningly capable. She¡¯d even allowed for the Dorchester Council of Leadership to hear an accusation of war crimes against Lord Walker, which had been put forth by the soon-to-be-disgraced General. Surprisingly, that brought to light how strong Lord Walker¡¯s position truly was here in Dorchester. The actual grandmaster of the local branch of Oglivarchian knights had defended him, along with half a dozen of the Royal Academy¡¯s evaluators who¡¯d been sent here by the capital to observe the kingdom¡¯s newest unique. Truly, the young man was now completely out of her league, and as such, for the time being, completely out of her control. She would most likely just have to be patient and wait for circumstances to change, or for an opportunity to present itself. As these thoughts plagued her mind, she stood off to the side of the reception hall with her retinue, along with several other scattered nobles. It was important for her to be seen supporting the day''s events¡­ by everyone. She¡¯d made a very public point of being one of the first to agree to attend today¡¯s ceremony. One of Lord Voltan¡¯s heirs, Rodrigo Voltan, caught her attention by asking rather rudely, ¡°So, I heard that you¡¯ve formerly petitioned to invalidate the consort agreements you¡¯ve had with Houses Margrave and Howard. Am I to assume they¡¯ve done something to displease you?¡± The ether in the area seemed to pause for a moment as the question hung in the air. Turning her ice-cold gaze toward the young man, she replied sharply, ¡°Not at all. They are both fine men, and what we had together was quite fun while it lasted. However, now that I¡¯m without heirs, it seemed like a prudent time to reorganize my house in preparation for new ones.¡± Not letting the subject drop, the smarmy man responded, ¡°I see. However, I may have heard that House Cosgrave and its allies have been targeting your former consort¡¯s houses during this trying time. Without your support, it seems that their finances have taken quite the hit. Not that their status on the ladder has quite caught up with that fact. But I¡¯m sure that is all just coincidence.¡± Keeping her expression blank of any and all emotion, City Lord Cosgrave replied, ¡°Really? I hadn¡¯t heard. You must have an extensive network established to have found all this out so quickly. The news of my abrogation of the contracts hasn¡¯t even been formally reviewed. I¡¯m curious how you¡¯ve heard about it¡­ has your father been gossiping at the dinner table?¡± Trying to not look intimidated by her tone, despite the beads of sweat appearing on his forehead, he replied warmly, ¡°No, my lord. Not at all. It was just something I heard in passing. Though, I must say, the news was pleasantly received. I¡¯ve always believed a powerful woman such as yourself should be with men more equal to her status. While Houses Margrave and Howard may have helped you attain the city seat in years passed, their current status isn¡¯t worth comparing to yours.¡± Slightly narrowing her eyes, City Lord Cosgrave replied, ¡°And yours is?¡± Several chuckles erupted from the nobles witnessing the confrontation, each having found the situation somewhat amusing for their own various reasons. While the corners of his eyes visibly tightened in anger, the Voltan heir managed to keep his composure as he replied, ¡°I may not be the head of a house, but I am currently leading my family¡¯s ladder and will likely inherit the position after my father passes, or decides to leave the city.¡± The atmosphere among the nobles quickly turned from amusement to interest at the man¡¯s enigmatic statement. Slightly raising one eyebrow to strategically show her surprise, City Lord Cosgrave asked, ¡°Oh? Has Lord Voltan expressed a desire to abandon Dorchester during these troubled times? I would have thought a man like him would have relished the challenge the world has provided us.¡± Caught off guard by her rebuttal, Rodrigo Voltan stuttered his reply, ¡°No, my lord, not to my knowledge. I was merely commenting on the fact that I am the likely successor to the position of house head for House Voltan.¡± Out of the corner of her eye, she caught sight of the dwarves enjoying themselves at one of the tables. Uninterested in continuing the conversation, City Lord Cosgrave replied sarcastically, ¡°Well, that very well may be true. However, I believe that likely says a great deal more about the status of House Voltan than it does about yours.¡± Having already mentally dismissed the arrogant young man from her thoughts, she returned to her contemplations. She needed time to consider how these foreigners would affect her plans, and what kind of future city they would build at the behest of the kingdom¡¯s capital, Hennings. While it could very well end up being the boon the royals promised, that would only happen if she managed the next few years very carefully. Hearing the arrival of Lord Walker before she saw him, she turned her head to see numerous nobles clapping and congratulating the young man as he made his way through the room with a forced smile on his face. ¡®I really need to find a way to get him out of my city. This is not the time for uncontrolled variables to be allowed to influence things,¡¯ she thought to herself in annoyance while keeping her expression as blank as a fresh canvas. ¡ª-- After a short break to use the restroom and splash some water on his face, Nero had been dragged to the reception hall what he jokingly referred to as the ceremony¡¯s after-party. While he understood why he had to attend, he was not looking forward to it. From the moment he¡¯d entered the room, countless people he didn¡¯t recognize swarmed around him, offering their congratulations and asking about his plans. Luckily, there were so many people talking that he never felt the need to answer anyone. He just smiled and nodded, slowly pushing his way into the room until he could find someone he knew. As luck would have it, Cathleen appeared out of nowhere and skillfully took control of the situation. Nero wouldn¡¯t have thought a woman of her particular temperament would be able to handle the situation without violence, but she did¡­ and she did it well. The gaggle of nobles quickly separated back into their groups without issue, resuming their chatting as if they hadn¡¯t been rudely dismissed by his house¡¯s manager. Looking over his shoulder at the nobles in confusion, Nero was too distracted to notice that he was being led away. In no time at all, she had him seated at a table with the few people who¡¯d stepped up to control his new house. All the big names were there. Knight Angleton, the former captain of the army and current commander of his military forces. Natalie Keening, who was once the leader of his wackos but is now the head of what he thought of as his public relations department. Michael Harring, the former convict and one-time assassin who¡¯d once tried to kill him. Nero wasn¡¯t exactly sure what the man¡¯s current job was, as he seriously doubted the man was still the head of his force¡¯s criminal contingent. Even Nick was there, his good friend and partner in chaos. Taking her seat, Cathleen¡¯s very presence designated her position at the circular table as the table¡¯s head. Something about her just grabbed everyone¡¯s attention. She had taken it upon herself to basically lead his house, and Nero honestly didn¡¯t have a problem letting her. ¡°I¡¯d say the ceremony went well,¡± she stated before turning to Ms. Keening and asking, ¡°How has the public response been?¡± Ms. Keening responded quickly with a smile, ¡°Better than we could have imagined. Lord Walker¡¯s welcoming speech ended a lot of the problems we¡¯d been worried about before they had a chance to get out of hand. Aside from over 60% of the recruits having had second thoughts about joining up, our position couldn¡¯t be better. However, even that has resulted in a few positive developments.¡± Unable to stop himself, Nero nearly shouted, ¡°Wait! That was only 40% of the people who showed up? How many were there to begin with? And what problems? What are you talking about?¡± Ignoring his outburst, Cathleen replied, ¡°Positive developments like what?¡± Awkwardly ignoring Nero, Ms. Keening tried to focus on answering Cathleen¡¯s question. ¡°Well, we were worried about having enough funds to support a force the size of what our projections showed. While in the long run, it wouldn¡¯t have been a problem once our hunting teams were set up, the first few weeks would have been¡­ challenging.¡±Stolen novel; please report. Cathleen nodded in understanding, already having known about the issue. ¡°That worked out well then. Have those who decided not to go through with their oaths been making any statements we should know about?¡± Ms. Keening replied, ¡°Not really. The consensus is that Lord Walker is one of the few honest nobles. His categorical denial of any knowledge about divine intervention resulting in his arrival, while not outright dismissing it as a possibility, has taken the legs out of the champion argument we were worried about.¡± Nero, utterly confused, asked, ¡°What ¡®champion¡¯ argument?¡± Cathleen, sounding rather annoyed at Nero¡¯s constant interruptions told Ms. Keening, ¡°Just explain it to him. It¡¯s his own fault for not realizing the issue before now.¡± Ms. Keening happily turned to Nero, glad to have received permission to address him. ¡°It¡¯s like this, my lord. As you mentioned in your speech, the faith district has been making claims that you are a divine champion sent to aid Dorchester in its time of need. Due to their praise, there has been a growing sentiment among the faithful of several religions that the only reason you were raised to unique status was to get you out of Dorchester so the nobles could profit off the prophesied doom of the city. While the movement hasn¡¯t spread too much, it was a possible concern for the future.¡± Nero had known about the different faiths talking about him like that, but he hadn¡¯t heard anything about any ¡®movement¡¯. Continuing on, she added, ¡°Many of the people who came here today to follow you were not interested in leaving Dorchester. They likely viewed your previous statements, most of which have been spread through memory engrams over the Thought Hub, as you feeling as though you lacked sufficient reason to stay. While not immediately a problem, it would have been something we would have had to deal with when it came time for you to leave. However, since that wouldn¡¯t be until the kobald war resolved, and possibly not until the density shift¡¯s expected beast waves happened, we weren¡¯t all that worried about it.¡± Nero, now understanding the situation, replied, ¡°And what I said in my speech helped with that?¡± Nodding vigorously, Ms. Keening replied, ¡°Absolutely! You made your intentions for our house¡¯s future very clear. We are to be adventurers, traveling the kingdom and handling the issues that plague the citizenry.¡± Injecting himself into the conversation, Knight Angleton added, ¡°At first I worried over your ethics, but I see now that I was mistaken. I didn¡¯t understand your vision. You didn¡¯t just want people to follow you, but to follow the path you¡¯ve laid out instead. Each of us is responsible for our own future. Mindless heroics don¡¯t pay the bills, or advance our path. It¡¯s our interactions and experiences that define us. You intend us to do good and be paid for it¡­ while keeping each other safe. It¡¯s a different perspective than I¡¯m used to, but a much more reasonable one than that of the army.¡± Not truly getting the giant of a man¡¯s point, Nero could only nod and feign a wise look on his face. Choosing the old fallback of speaking in riddles, he replied, ¡°If that is how you chose to hear it, then you are free to believe that is what I said.¡± Abruptly the serious atmosphere was shattered by the sound of Nick failing to contain his chuckle behind his hand. Seeing everyone turning to look at him, he said, ¡°Oh, don¡¯t mind me. I¡¯m just enjoying Nero¡¯s unique leadership style. Please, continue.¡± Rolling his eyes at the man, Nero turned to Cathleen and said, ¡°OK, so those people who were on the fence didn¡¯t sign up, and that successfully fixed our potential financial problems?¡± Cathleen replied quickly, ¡°Yes and no. We still will rely on the investments you made which will be handled through House Verena. However, we need to take this time while we¡¯re still in Dorchester to get the Walker Adventuring Company working smoothly.¡± Nero frowned, asking, ¡°When I created the W.A.C. I thought that was going to be the name House Walker would go by, but I¡¯m guessing that¡¯s not what you mean?¡± Nodding, Cathleen replied, ¡°Yes, the W.A.C. will be the place for our hunters. They¡¯ll be taking quests and handling the issues out of whatever city¡¯s Hunters Hall we end up staying near. While you and the main force will be handling the quests from the councils of leadership, they will be our main source of localized income.¡± Nero tapped his finger on the table in thought. ¡°Right, because each city basically has its own currency and the exchange rates may end up making what I¡¯m earning from Dorchester useless. Seriously, how does having every city acting like an independent country not end up causing chaos?¡± Nick immediately began to reply, ¡°The economics of each city need to be isolated due to the effect of regional -¡± Nero interrupted him angrily, ¡°Not the time, Nick! That was a rhetorical question! You can lecture me later when I¡¯m not surrounded by nobles.¡± Nick chuckled and held up his hands in surrender, a smile dancing on his face. Turning back to Cathleen, he was about to ask more about how the management structure of his house was going to work when he was caught off guard by Vera walking up to the table. Without any preamble, she said, ¡°It¡¯s confirmed. Apparently, the mining town that Lord Walker acquired from the Dorchen estate has been offered to the dwarves for their new city.¡± While grumbling erupted around the table, Nero looked around in confusion. ¡®I had a mining town? I knew that, didn¡¯t I?¡¯ he wondered. Seeing Nero¡¯s expression, Vera explained, ¡°If you recall, during the noble war you took part in, the Populators wiped out a majority of House Dorchen¡¯s forces due to their exposed ties to Islangur. Their treasonous actions merited royal intervention. Due to the Populators¡¯ dedication to their duty, they wiped out all life in the mountain town, effectively making the investment worthless. It was given to you by the city lord to pay off part of your award without giving you another source of income. I¡¯d planned at some point to repopulate the town for you, resuming the mining operations and taking advantage of our transport capabilities for an increased profit margin. However, that is no longer an option.¡± Not knowing how he was supposed to feel about it, Nero asked, ¡°So, the city lord and the council tried to screw me, but now the kingdom has given the town to the dwarves? Am I understanding that right?¡± The subtle frown on her face revealed Vera¡¯s anger at the situation. ¡°Yes, you are correct. But, it¡¯s not that simple. The kingdom has no right to just take your land without compensation, and someone has obviously been planning on causing you a problem by putting you at odds with the dwarves. Either the city of Dorchester will have to compensate you, or you¡¯ll have to come to terms with the dwarves yourself.¡± Shrugging as if it didn¡¯t matter, he asked, ¡°Why don¡¯t I just gift them the town and be done with it? What¡¯s the point of making a big deal out of it?¡± Everyone at the table widened their eyes in shock at his statement. Not understanding how he could be so calm about giving up such a large source of power and income without any recompense. Seeing their expressions, Nero asked in confusion, ¡°What? Am I not allowed to or something?¡± For Nero, he didn¡¯t feel as if he was losing anything, as the town was just sitting there empty. Besides, he hadn¡¯t even really thought about it. While he was almost positive someone had at some point mentioned it to him, it hadn¡¯t been worth paying attention to at the time, and as far as he was concerned, it still wasn¡¯t. So, if he ended up handing it over to some dwarves who¡¯d he never met and had no conflict with, then so be it. Before Vera could explain to Nero why that was such a ridiculously bad idea, a loud gruff voice that Nero vaguely recalled from an outburst he¡¯d heard during the ceremony chimed in. ¡°Lad! It¡¯s an honor to be here to witness the founding of your clan. I¡¯m King Mithrilstrike, head of my clan, and your new neighbor. I need to talk to you about your mountain,¡± he declared, marching up to stand right next to Vera¡­ patently ignoring the fact that he might possibly be interrupting something. Nero sat in shocked silence, staring at a real-life dwarf. The incredibly wide man''s girth was only matched by how short he was. Standing at barely 4 ft, even sitting Nero didn¡¯t feel as though he had to look up at him. Smiling widely, Nero blatantly stared at the man¡¯s long and lustrous beard, along with his incredibly detailed armor. In full plate, with helm and gauntlets included, the dwarf looked more like a slab of hairy metal than a person. Hopping out of his chair, Nero looked down into the man¡¯s intense stare and exclaimed, ¡°Holy shit! You¡¯re a dwarf!¡± Despite part of his face being obstructed by the helm, Nero could see the confused expression on his face. After a second or two to process what Nero had said, the king replied angrily, ¡°Yeah, and what of it?¡± Smiling like a lunatic, Nero replied, ¡°That¡¯s awesome¡­ you¡¯re awesome! Do you drink mead and blacksmith stuff? I mean, are you into weapons and armor and all that? Do you live underground? What am I saying, of course you do, you¡¯re interested in my mountain. But, do you have like an incredibly long line of forefathers that you revere and loyally follow? Seriously, all I¡¯ve read about dwarves has been from what humans have witnessed¡­ tell me what being a dwarf is really like!¡± King Mithrilstrike took an unconscious step back from Nero¡¯s enthusiasm. As the young human in front of him went on and on with his questions, the king felt more and more uncomfortable. Seeing as he was freaking the man out, Nero took a step back and grabbed an empty chair from a table nearby. Plopping it down right next to him, Nero said, ¡°Sorry, please, have a seat. Let me get you a beer and we can talk about the mountain. Sound good?¡± Behind the king, several dwarves who¡¯d been watching the spectacle couldn¡¯t hold back their laughter and began urging the king to sit down¡­ albeit sarcastically. ¡°Yes, Mavros! Sit down and negotiate!¡± one shouted. Crusher chimed in by adding, ¡°Answer all the human¡¯s questions! We need that mountain!¡± Even Ironwick couldn¡¯t stop himself from shouting, ¡°That¡¯s right! Tell the young man what he wants to know. You know you¡¯d sell your axe for a beer.¡± Feeling the ether vibrating with their very non-human vibe, Nero couldn¡¯t help but reach out and touch their overlapping essence fields. The moment he did, he instantly felt how different they were from the humans he¡¯d been used to feeling. They were strong, grounded, and full of life. There was a contradictory sense of permanence and an almost ignorance of the passage of time, offset by an overpowering sense of the ¡®now¡¯ and a dedication to the moment. Their essence fields felt both youthful and ancient at the same time. King Mithrilstrike, being unable to stop himself from facing a challenge, hopped up into the chair and demanded, ¡°All right lad, ask your questions¡­ but first I want the beer you promised.¡± Around him, the dwarves all intensified their laughter and enjoyment of the spectacle. Meanwhile, Nero¡¯s human companions who¡¯d been watching were all exchanging looks of confusion and shock at what they¡¯d just witnessed. While not having personal experience with the phenomenon, it was common knowledge that for the most part, humans and dwarves didn¡¯t usually get along all that well. They were just too different¡­ a completely inhuman species they could never hope to understand. Nero, however, had ignored most of that biased nonsense when he¡¯d looked up the different species of the world. He¡¯d been more interested in finding out how similar they were to the fantasy races he¡¯d grown up reading about. Now that he had a chance to meet one in person, he sure as hell wasn¡¯t going to waste the opportunity to find out for himself. Quickly mentally reaching into his personal space to find something to offer the dwarf in front of him, Nero muttered a quick, ¡°Shit!¡± Seeing the dwarf glaring at him from the chair, with his stubby legs humorously unable to reach the floor, Nero¡¯s smile returned as he held up his hands in a placating gesture, nearly shouting as he said, ¡°Just stay here¡­ I¡¯ll go find a cask or something. Don¡¯t worry, I¡¯ll be back in a second.¡± Rushing off, Nero¡¯s head was on a swivel trying to find a servant or someone who knew where he could find some beer. He hadn¡¯t felt like this since he¡¯d been a freshman in college trying to find an upperclassman willing to make a booze run for him. While Nero shot off into the crowd, King Mithrilstrike turned to look at the other humans at the table and asked, ¡°Is the lad always like that? So¡­ excitable?¡± Nick, who was thoroughly enjoying the situation was the first to reply, ¡°Oh, you have no idea. Our Lord Walker is like no human you¡¯ve ever met.¡± Crusher, who was now standing behind his king with a hand on the dwarf¡¯s shoulder, leaned over and replied, ¡°Well, that¡¯s just another reason to like the lad, isn¡¯t it?¡± All the dwarfs laughed uproariously, King Mithrilstrike included, while the humans frowned at the uncivilized and unnecessarily confrontational insult. As a group, the humans all silently agreed that everything they¡¯d read about dwarves was most likely true, and wondered what the capital was thinking when they agreed to this sister-city arrangement. Chapter 234 - Cultural exchanges. When he¡¯d first come to Dorchester to ¡®watch¡¯ over the anomaly, Nero Walker, he¡¯d thought he was being clever. It had been like a confluence of events that had come together to give him multiple things that he¡¯d wanted. He¡¯d finally had a reasonably legal excuse to deal with that waste of essence Cranston, an interesting subject to study and observe, and above all¡­ a justifiable excuse to foist his duties at the tower onto others, namely his friendly pain in the backside Mathers. Seizing the opportunity had been an obvious choice. While to others his actions may have looked impulsive and rushed, in his mind he¡¯d thought he¡¯d taken into account all the variables. He expected his time in Dorchester to be a respite, a time free from the responsibilities his position as the head of the council of mages demanded. No more meetings. No more powerful families requiring a moment of his time or organizations demanding his personal oversight for their corroboration with the Tower of Magic. Yet, as usual, the world and fate had other ideas. Since he¡¯d arrived here, Archmage Jennings had been having to deal with one thing after another. He knew he was partly to blame, but a majority of the fault had to be assigned to the subject he¡¯d come here to study¡­ that little shit Nero Walker. The young man was a walking and talking expression of chaos given material form. Originally, Archmage Jennings had thought to arrange a series of challenges for the young man to overcome. His intention was to speed up the anomaly¡¯s growth and observe how his mind worked while being close enough to observe how his soul¡¯s harmonization with the body it was using progressed. That plan lasted lasted less than a month. He¡¯d forgotten how conniving and irresponsible nobles could be in these tiny cities. Out here, in the middle of nowhere, they thought that they were somehow special due to the fact that they lorded over a measly few million commoners. They¡¯d let their power go to their head and become overly brazen with their schemes. As a result, he¡¯d had to dust off some of the skills he hadn¡¯t used in years. There was a certain amount of effort involved in monitoring local intrigues and predicting the outcomes of their intersections. He¡¯d forgotten how annoying it was to deal with. Especially when a person like the anomaly was taken into consideration. He was now positive that the anomaly was fateless, as in somehow outside of the predictable influence of the material realm''s essence flows. His current theory was that it was due to the anomaly¡¯s incredibly odd soul having come from outside the local paradigm. It was like the body the anomaly was using was just an extension of himself from another plane¡­ an observer who¡¯d been accidentally given interaction privileges with the material world. It made predicting his actions practically impossible. Which, of course, was why Archmage Jennings had been so busy lately. Whether it was keeping a close watch on the local powers through scrying, monitoring the anomaly¡¯s actions, building up his local network of influence, or just cleaning up the political and magical aftermath after the anomaly¡¯s antics got out of hand¡­ he felt like he was dealing with more responsibilities here than he¡¯d had when running the entire kingdom¡¯s Towers of Magic. At least there he¡¯d had people he could assign tasks to. Rubbing his hands tiredly over his face, he collapsed into his seat in his office, thoroughly exhausted from the morning he¡¯d had. He¡¯d managed most of what he needed to get done, but he knew his day was still far from over. The anomaly¡¯s ceremony was still going on, and he needed to confirm how many of his agents he¡¯d been able to sneak into House Walker. Having used a few mages in the local Tower of Magic as his go-betweens, he¡¯d arranged for hopefully up to five people to be embedded into the anomaly¡¯s new house. While not immediately useful, he hoped that in the future they could act as channels for his will, to steer the anomaly to where he preferred him to go. Although to be honest, he wasn¡¯t all that enthusiastic about this particular plan¡¯s prospects. The anomaly simply wasn¡¯t the type to be easily manipulated. Pulling out a bottle of wine from his desk, he poured himself a glass and wondered whether all this effort was worth it. Sure, the amount of data he¡¯d already collected was substantial, and he¡¯d already learned more about the interaction between planar route dynamics than he¡¯d had in the past century of his studies¡­ but it was all just so irritating. He¡¯d spent days having to rebuild the local essence flow structures to avoid a complete ethereal density collapse, then had to influence the Royal Academy¡¯s evaluators and the local order of knight¡¯s grandmaster to defend the anomaly¡¯s actions which caused the problem in the first place. Honestly, he shouldn¡¯t be complaining, seeing as the evaluators were obviously biased toward the anomaly, making the task considerably easier than he thought it would be. Which was in itself a fact that he¡¯d have to remind himself to look into as evaluators were by design supposed to be chosen for their impartiality. At some point, he needed to figure out what they were up to. Tapping his fingers on the desk in thought, he realized that was the crux of the issue. There were too many plots going on with ties to many actors he hadn¡¯t identified. If he¡¯d just had to deal with local nobility, he could have handled that. Yet, that didn¡¯t seem to be the case. He¡¯d discovered his assistant, Mage-Adept Newbanks, was currently acting as an agent of the crown. While he wasn¡¯t entirely sure of her goals, he¡¯d been careful not to tip her off as to his suspicions. Then there were the evaluators. They obviously had their own agenda. For some incomprehensible reason, they¡¯d abandoned their duties to the Royal Academy to follow the anomaly. While they¡¯d been careful about the legality of their actions, he still found what they were doing troubling. Locally, there were the various plots by the nobles he was being forced to combat. The city lord and her allies had theirs, the Blackwoods and others had theirs, and then the general and his supporters had their own. It was all just a mess, and he couldn¡¯t be sure there wasn¡¯t someone else coordinating everything from behind a veil of anonymity. Normally, he¡¯d just run a few calculations and find out everything he needed to know, but with the anomaly acting as an uncertain variable, it would be pointless. He¡¯d never in his millennia of life had to deal with this type of uncertainty. Taking a large gulp of wine, his shoulders drooped as he allowed himself to sink deeper into his chair with a sigh. While he was lost in all these thoughts, part of his mind watched the ceremony going on. Unsurprisingly, the anomaly went out of his way to complicate things even more, thoroughly lampooning the plot he¡¯d spent weeks trying to combat with a few simple words. ¡®Whoever was behind the faith district''s efforts to stir up divine controversy must be livid,¡¯ he thought to himself with a smirk. Abruptly sitting up in his seat, he turned his entire attention to what he was seeing as the dwarven contingent he hadn¡¯t had a chance to think about was making their presence known. He¡¯d been thinking about how to handle the issue that had cropped up with the mountain¡¯s providence, but it seemed that his efforts might not be needed. The dwarven king seemed to already be taking a liking to the anomaly. He wasn¡¯t entirely sure he liked where this was going. While part of his mind was focused on other tasks, he kept watch over everything from his seat in his office at the top of the local Tower of Magic. He saw House Walker¡¯s leadership skillfully add to the house¡¯s ranks, growing their forces and influence with numbers. He was pleased to see every one of his agents take their oaths. He was even more pleased to see that the faith¡¯s influence had been completely dismantled before they could become a problem. After the ceremony, he nervously watched as the nobles made their way to the reception hall to begin their scheming, the entire time he remained focused on the dwarves. He¡¯d known about his king¡¯s plan to expand on the work his ancestors had begun, developing the kingdom¡¯s ties to the other races. It was a laudable, but foolish, goal. In his opinion, the effort involved simply outweighed the benefits. Other species were just too different than humans. Predicting their behavior and thoughts was a waste of time and resources. The calculations created to model human behavior didn¡¯t work on them, and the likelihood of acquiring enough data to adapt the equations was unlikely. It would require the aid of the other species themselves, and he couldn¡¯t see them agreeing to it. Especially the dwarves, they and humans just didn¡¯t get along. Trading and cooperation weren¡¯t out of the question, but friendship and trust were simply impossible. Of course, his opinion was immediately proven wrong by the actions of the anomaly. He sat dumbfounded as he watched the little shit actually getting along with the bearded nightmares. What he was witnessing was unprecedented, and entirely outside of his considerable experience. ¡®Is he¡­ actually drinking with dwarves?¡¯ he thought to himself in awe. While it wasn¡¯t uncommon to see a human sharing a few drinks with dwarves, it was entirely unexpected to see a human enjoying the experience. Normally, that type of situation quickly devolved into a fight with either the human or the dwarf insulting the other party and shattering the cordial atmosphere. From what he understood, dwarves and humans both were warned from a young age to keep their emotional distance from each other. The two species could be allies¡­ but never friends. So, he honestly didn¡¯t know how he should be feeling watching the anomaly pelting dwarven royalty with questions while he taught them some drinking game he made up on the spot. ¡®This¡­ might not be good,¡¯ he thought to himself with his worry plainly expressed on his face in a frown. ¡ª-- ¡°No, no, no! You¡¯re being too aggressive! You have to just ¡®flip¡¯ it!¡± Nero shouted while demonstrating the correct way to ¡®flip¡¯ a cup. With half of the shiny metal mug halfway over the edge of the table, Nero skillfully applied two fingers under the tankard and flicked it. In one smooth motion, the empty mug shot a little up into the air and flipped, landing upside down on the table with a wobble. Holding his hands up into the air in fists, he looked down at the angry dwarf with a smug look on his face and declared, ¡°That¡¯s how it¡¯s done bitches! I am one with the cup! Bow before my flippy-cup skills and tremble at my might!¡± Focusing intently on the mug in front of him, King Mavros Mithrilstrike carefully placed his mug over the edge of the table. His entire being was tense with anticipation of his attempt. Rolling his shoulders, he decided that if he was going to do this, he was going to do it right.A case of theft: this story is not rightfully on Amazon; if you spot it, report the violation. Removing his gauntlets wasn¡¯t easy, and he rarely if ever did it when he was out in public, but he didn¡¯t hesitate for more than a second before ripping them off and placing them on the table. He needed his fingers free from any and all constraints if he was going to succeed at the young human¡¯s challenge. Delicately, as if he were handling a precious gem, he placed his large stubby fingers under the edge of the mug. While keeping his hands steady, he took a deep breath¡­ and flicked. With an incredibly serious look on his face, he watched as the mug launched lightly into the air. He held his breath as the mug flipped beautifully, like a throwing axe on its way to a target. His heart trembled as it landed perfectly, face down on the table¡­ only to begin pounding as it began to wobble. He felt the heavy moment of silence around him as everyone waited to see if it would stabilize. Then, like magic, the mug slowly stopped moving, coming to a perfect stop upside down on the table. The area around him erupted into cheers, his dwarven comrades shouting in praise at his accomplishment. Even the human lad who¡¯d been taunting him began pounding a fist on his armored shoulder and shouting, ¡°YEAH, BOI! That¡¯s how you nail that shit to the table!¡± With a smile wide enough to show his teeth through his beard, he turned around to accept the praise he was receiving. His dwarves shouted and hugged each other, demonstrating their excitement at his achievement. For a moment, he felt like he was back in one of the taverns near his old clan hall, enjoying some time with his friends. He felt 300 again. Crusher, his longtime friend shouted directly into his face, ¡°Well done, Mavros! I knew you could do it. It¡¯s just like etching a filigree¡­ a steady hand and a firm heart!¡± Interrupting the celebration, the human lad shoved his way through the dwarves and declared, ¡°Great! But that¡¯s just the introduction! Now we can get to the game!¡± The dwarves all quieted down, thoroughly confused by what he was saying. Mavros muttered, ¡°What do you mean, lad? Is there more to this ¡®flippy-cup¡¯ than that?¡± Throwing his hands up into the air in excitement, Nero shouted, ¡°Of course there is! Come on, do you think you can just flip a cup and drink? This is supposed to be a competition. You can¡¯t have a game without competition, and you can¡¯t have a drinking game without drinking! Come on, everyone step up to the table. You pick four people for your team, and I¡¯ll pick my four. Crusher! You¡¯re on my team, and I don¡¯t remember anyone else¡¯s name, so grab three others.¡± Mavros instinctively shouted back, ¡°Wait! Why do you get Crusher, he¡¯s my second in command?¡± Nero smirked and replied, ¡°Because I called him first.¡± The dwarves all exchanged looks with each other, trying to decide whether or not the lad had a point. Crusher patted Mavros on the shoulder and said in a serious voice, ¡°That¡¯s right, my friend. He did call me first.¡± Frowning in annoyance, Mavros pointed up at Nero and said, ¡°Fine! But I get Tiggie and Oliver!¡± Nero nodded in acceptance as he poured out half-filled mugs of beer from the cask before pausing and looking at the king in surprise. ¡°There¡¯s a dwarf named Oliver?¡± A heavy-set dwarf pushed his way forward, his fluffy beard bouncing like a whiskered ball of fur on his face. ¡°Yeah, I¡¯m Oliver. You got a problem with my name?¡± Nero didn¡¯t stop pouring the beers as he replied with a shrug, ¡°Nope. I just didn¡¯t expect a dwarf named Oliver. It¡¯s like meeting a human named Firebelly or Ironbutt or something. Like I said, I don¡¯t know anything about dwarves, so this is a learning experience for me. Is Oliver a popular dwarven name? Does it come from anything?¡± While the dwarves spread out around the round table, Nero passed out the beers while his attention remained on the dwarf named Oliver. Rubbing his head in thought, Oliver replied, ¡°Not really. It¡¯s just a name. I think my grandad heard it somewhere or something. Everyone¡¯s gotta be called something, right?¡± Hearing mutters of agreement from the dwarves, Nero shrugged again and replied, ¡°Fair enough. It¡¯s better than being all Dick or something.¡± As Nero¡¯s intention of a pun tried and failed to be translated correctly, all the dwarves looked confused for a moment. Luckily, Nero had finished getting the beers handed out and was now ready to teach them how to play the easiest and most enjoyable drinking game he¡¯d ever experienced¡­ flippy cup. Getting to this point hadn¡¯t been easy, but it hadn¡¯t been all that hard either. He¡¯d read that dwarves and humans didn¡¯t get along all that well, and he now had a better understanding as to why that was. These weren¡¯t exactly the same type of dwarves he¡¯d grown up reading about in fantasy books, but they weren¡¯t all together all that different. They were more like excitable racist grandfathers. They took everything a human said personally¡­ like they were just itching for a reason to start a fight. Or at least they had at the beginning of the conversation. They¡¯d eased up a bit after a while. Now, they were more like the jocks he used to hang out with, mixed with theatre nerds. Nero couldn¡¯t come up with a better comparison. The dwarves had that same physical presence and intensity of athletes, but they also had that reserved intensity of drama club kids. They put their everything into whatever it was they were doing. To Nero, it was an overly dramatic atmosphere that would have looked pretentious on anyone else. But, for some reason, it worked for the dwarves. It was like the emotion of childlike enthusiasm somehow had a baby with a day planner. He¡¯d never met anyone who was both overly emotional and so serious at the same time. Their personalities weren¡¯t at all what he¡¯d been expecting¡­ while at the same time fitting the image of what a dwarf should be to a ¡®T¡¯. He was having a blast interacting with them. Unfortunately, the leaders of his new house had not been feeling the same way. While he¡¯d been hanging out with the dwarves, he¡¯d been keeping an eye on them through his essence field. They¡¯d all moved tables and were now watching over him from a distance. He could ¡®feel¡¯ that they were both confused and impressed by his ability to get along with the dwarves. In a way, it was amusing to see how strongly they were affected by his success. Earlier, when he¡¯d gone off to find a servant to get the beer he¡¯d promised the dwarves, apparently the dwarven king, King Mavros Mithrilspike, had almost come to blows with Cathleen. Vera had wanted to get the matter of the mountain¡¯s ownership handled quickly, and Marvros had told her in no uncertain terms that talking to her was a waste of his time. Cathleen, having been offended on Vera¡¯s behalf had stepped forward. They were just about to agree to a meeting time in the arena when Nero had luckily returned. He understood immediately where they were both coming from. From Mavros¡¯ perspective, he didn¡¯t want to bother speaking with an intermediary when Nero was the one who owned the mountain. Vera on the other hand just wanted the matter settled, and as an efficient woman was trying to be direct. Neither of them was necessarily wrong, but they were both kind of being assholes about it. It hadn¡¯t been all that difficult to put a stop to the tension, as arriving with a group of servants carrying casks of bear and mugs worked well as an ice-breaker. What took longer was convincing Cathleen and the others that he¡¯d be fine on his own. Just having to explain to the dwarves that the human¡¯s caution wasn¡¯t an insult to their dwarven honor was a headache in and of itself. But, it had eventually all worked out. Unsurprisingly, he and the dwarves still hadn¡¯t gotten around to talking about the mountain. The conversation had immediately gotten sidetracked by the king and the dwarves complaining about how weak and pathetic the beer he¡¯d gotten was. To Nero, it had sounded like the typical elitist shit he used to hear when a Guinness drinker was handed a Bud Light. Which of course led to Nero proclaiming that every beer had its time and place. Having not drunk a single beer since arriving in this world, Nero had no idea if what he¡¯d served them was something he should be defending. When he¡¯d asked the servants for beer, he hadn¡¯t been terribly specific. In fact, he¡¯d asked them for casks of a good ¡®working man¡¯s¡¯ beer. He hadn¡¯t wanted to offend the dwarves and guessed what they¡¯d like based on what he thought dwarves would be like. Honestly, even after they¡¯d argued about it, he still didn¡¯t know what kind of beer they¡¯d actually prefer. Rather than confront the problem, he did what he always did and changed the subject. Instead of cheap beer being an insult, it was a beer he brought over because it was good for drinking games and first meetings. The dwarves were at first skeptical, as their drinking games were only for close friends and family. They were intended to be shared with those a dwarf didn¡¯t mind getting drunk with, not strangers. Nero¡¯s argument was that while they were of course right to think that, what better way was there for a stranger to become a friend than to skip all the pointless talk and instead share a drink? None of the dwarves had a logical response to that. So, now, here they were, playing flippy cup. Pointing at one of the dwarves who hadn¡¯t been picked for the teams, he said, ¡°Alright, you¡¯re the referee. When you say ¡®go¡¯, we start. Remember, one at a time, and you can¡¯t start until the guy in front of you has successfully flipped his cup. No cheating, no touching the table, and no early starts. Disputes are up to the ref to handle. Everyone ready?¡± The dwarves all had removed their gauntlets and helms, taking the game more seriously than he¡¯d thought they would. Each of them was hovering their hands over their tankards like they were just itching for their turn. Looking to the dwarf king on his right, he smiled widely and said, ¡°We¡¯re starting it off. Good luck, you¡¯re going to need it.¡± Mavros chuckled while scowling, ¡°Same to you lad. Just don¡¯t be too embarrassed when you lose.¡± Nero laughed loudly while crouching over the table to get in position, his hand cupped around his half-filled tankard. ¡°That¡¯s the great thing about drinking games. Win or lose, everyone wins, we all get to drink.¡± Just as he finished his joke, the dwarf assigned as the ref shouted, ¡°Go!¡± while slamming his fist on the table hard enough to shake it. Nero deftly tipped his tankard into the air, drinking it smoothly while remaining in a rigid and controlled squat. Meanwhile, Mavros the king was muttering a curse as he was caught off guard by the signal, having unfortunately been laughing at Nero¡¯s quip about everyone being a winner. But, he recovered quickly and began chugging his beer. Like a pro, Nero finished his drink and delicately placed his mug on the table, ensuring that exactly half of it was over the edge. Taking a moment to breathe, he focused and flipped. Luckily, he¡¯d already gotten a feel for the correct amount of force he needed to flip this type of cup, and on his first try, he succeeded. Being a solid metal tankard, it wasn¡¯t all that difficult to flip compared to the plastic cups he once played with. The moment it stopped wobbling, he turned to the dwarf on his left and shouted, ¡°Drink!¡± Like he¡¯d been released from a cage, the dwarf hopped into action, raising his tankard and chugging in one smooth motion. Nero watched with a grin as the dwarf finished and began carefully arranging his cup for the impending flip attempt. It was incredibly amusing to see how seriously the dwarves were taking the competition. While not exactly ¡®cute¡¯, it was kind of adorable. Although none of them were particularly good at the flipping part of it, they were incredibly good at the drinking part. The game proceeded well, each dwarf adhering to the rules and waiting for the turn. Almost from the beginning, the dwarves who hadn¡¯t been chosen for the teams began cheering them on. While it had started out as gruff voices of encouragement, by the time Nero¡¯s team had gotten a full-person lead, the crowd had begun to truly clamor. As if the gods of competition had personally taken note of events and interfered, Nero¡¯s third team member had trouble with his flip, ensuring that they didn¡¯t get too far ahead. Shouts of encouragement and derision rang out, causing the dwarf in question to buckle under the pressure, allowing the king¡¯s team to catch up. Like the conclusion of a movie, it all came down to the last two dwarfs. Crusher versus Oliver, a battle for the ages. They both started drinking at the same time, finished at the same time, and began their flip at the same time. The moment the tankards were in the air, all the noise seemed to stop, even the essence around the table froze in anticipation of what would happen. Nero forced himself not to touch the table, despite how much he wanted a closer look at what was happening. The rules were clear, and he did NOT want to lose to a foul. Then, it happened, while the wobbling tankard in front of Crusher tipped over, the one in front of Oliver remained standing¡­ perfectly upside down. The dwarves erupted into cheers while Nero¡¯s team¡¯s heads drooped in defeat. Crusher looked¡­ crushed. Mavros and his team hopped up and down, hugging each other while the crowd patted them on the back in congratulations. Nero shouted, ¡°You got lucky! I demand two out of three!¡± The dwarves as one came to a stop, awkwardly frozen while in the middle of their hug. Mavros turned away from his team, crossed his arms, and jutted out his beard. ¡°What did you just say, boy?¡± he asked angrily Nero put his hands on his hips and replied seriously, ¡°I said two out of three. Best of three wins!¡± The dwarves all shouted in excitement as they began resetting the table. Patting Mavros on the shoulder, Nero said, ¡°See what I mean. Even when you lose a drinking game, you still win!¡± Chapter 235 - Wine them, dine them, then screw them. Salesmanship 101. Mike Harring grew up as the son of a Butcher, and while the local center¡¯s schools did their best with him, he¡¯d never applied himself to things like history and science. So, when he heard about the dwarves arriving in Dorchester, he¡¯d tried to pretend that he understood what everyone was talking about. Now though, seeing as his new lord was currently drinking and laughing with them, he could no longer contain the questions that had been plaguing him. Sitting at the table with his arms crossed in annoyance, he asked out loud to no one in particular, ¡°What are the dwarves even doing here? Aren¡¯t dwarves supposed to all be on the border? Their kingdoms have nothing to do with us. It¡¯s not like we¡¯re close enough to trade with them?¡± The table he was sitting at was filled with House Walker¡¯s current leadership. On the side closest to what they were all looking at was Cathleen Averett, their house manager. On her left sat Vera Salvatore-Verena, whose role had been explained to him multiple times despite him not understanding it. To him, she was just one of the nobility, although one closely aligned with the lord he¡¯d chosen to follow. To her right was Natalie Keening, a woman he admittedly had a small crush on, who was in charge of public relations¡­ whatever that was. Then, standing off to the side like a pillar of muscle was Knight Angleton, who Mike both respected and feared. Other than them, there were a few others who he¡¯d come to know as secondary leaders, each following the lead of those four. But, it was Vera¡¯s husband and his lord¡¯s friend who was kind enough to answer his question. Nick Salvatore-Verena, the newly raised Lord Verena, a man Mike knew to be some kind of scholar or researcher. ¡°The dwarves are here due to a deal the capital made with the dwarven kingdoms to further our own kingdom¡¯s reach and expand on the efforts of the royal family.¡± Mike watched in shame as everyone around him nodded in agreement with Nick¡¯s statement. Even after having the situation explained to him so succinctly, he still didn¡¯t understand what the man was talking about. Luckily, Nick was at heart a teacher and champion of knowledge. He had an almost supernatural ability to know when someone around him yearned for answers. Leaning forward in his seat, Nick stared at Mike with an intense smile, seemingly eager to impart his wisdom to the man. ¡°For generations, the royal family has been trying to develop ties with the surrounding kingdoms, easing tensions and increasing rapport with our neighbors. Although we shall always remain primarily a human kingdom, the royal family hopes to one day incorporate these other kingdoms into a larger federation or alliance, possibly even allowing them to join us as citizens of Oglivarch. At least that¡¯s the official story that we¡¯ve been told. There are many nuances to the efforts that remain up for debate.¡± Unable to stop himself, Mike replied with curiosity, ¡°What does that have to do with them coming here?¡± Not put off at all by Mike¡¯s disinterest in the details, Nick replied, ¡°According to the deal made with the dwarven kings, to further ties with our kingdom, a city of dwarves will be developed within our lands. Much like our own cities, the city will be ruled locally, only owing fealty to the capital and our king. Dwarves have their own kings, who in actuality are more like city lords. That dwarf over there, Mavros Mithrilstrike, will be the new city¡¯s leader¡­ our kingdom¡¯s first dwarven ¡®king¡¯.¡± Somewhat understanding but still not having gotten an answer to his question, Mike repeated, ¡°OK. But why are they here?¡± Rolling his eyes, Nick answered in a tone that sounded somewhat condescending, ¡°Because this is the place where the dwarves have chosen for their city.¡± Mike, getting more than a little annoyed with the man was about to angrily reply when Natalie Keening interrupted excitedly, ¡°It¡¯s kind of amazing right? After years of negotiations, countless surveys, and debates, they¡¯ve chosen to settle next to our city¡­ right when we¡¯re in the middle of a density shift and a war. I bet it¡¯s because they love fighting. Everyone knows that dwarves are constantly at war.¡± Immediately refuting her, Nick replied, ¡°That¡¯s an over-exaggeration. Dwarves aren¡¯t all that bloodthirsty, not like orcs or goblins, they just tend to stir up trouble with their exploratory nature.¡± Mike, with his brow furrowed in confusion, asked, ¡°What¡¯s that? They like going places they shouldn¡¯t or something?¡± Nick¡¯s chuckle sounded somewhat like a teacher finding amusement in their student¡¯s naivety. ¡°No, not exactly. Dwarves are deeply connected to the world below. They call it ¡®the earth¡¯, and it¡¯s in their nature to dig into its secrets.¡± The term ¡®earth¡¯ resonated in the ether, imparting its meaning to everyone who heard it. While the word itself wasn¡¯t unfamiliar to them, the meaning when looked at from the perspective of the dwarves was quite different than what they¡¯d previously understood. To every human at the table, the word ¡®earth¡¯ was synonymous with ¡®dirt¡¯ or the ground, it didn¡¯t have any profound meaning beyond that. But to dwarves, ¡®earth¡¯ meant the world below. The word had a weight to it, and there was a sense of depth conveyed to all of them when they heard it. Nick added, ¡°It¡¯s a core part of what makes a dwarf a dwarf. They long to dig deep into the world, finding and exploring its secrets. As a species, they are incredible crafters and researchers. Even their type of magic is closely related to the ground underneath our feet. They dig for ore, resources, and fun. Choosing a former mining town for their proposed city shouldn¡¯t be all that surprising to us.¡± Vera¡¯s calm tone carried somewhat of an edge when she joined the conversation, saying, ¡°Yes. A mining town that is technically owned by House Walker. I find it difficult to believe that the capital was unaware of that fact. I believe someone or someones intended to put House Walker at odds with our new neighbors.¡± Struggling to mentally keep up with the conversation, Mike asked, ¡°Wait a second. Does this mean the dwarven kingdoms are joining our kingdom? Or is it just this city that they¡¯re building? And if so, how is that supposed to work? Cities aren¡¯t supposed to be that close together? Are they going to be under Dorchester¡¯s jurisdiction?¡± Nick, always eager for the opportunity to lecture, replied, ¡°It¡¯s quite exciting isn¡¯t it? Nothing like this has ever been proposed! The dwarven city will be right next to Dorchester but has no claim to the land around it. However, the ground below us will be theirs to do with what they will. I believe in the years to come, if this experiment works out well, each city of our kingdom may have a dwarven city as its partner. Humans will work the land, while the dwarves will work the earth. If the two species can work in harmony, then our available resources will practically double!¡± Still confused, Mike replied, ¡°But we already have a mountain city run by humans¡­ well, after we clear out the kobalds that is. What do we need the dwarves for?¡± Nick, looking at Mike with an expression filled with humor replied with a tone of mild superiority, ¡°I don¡¯t think you fully comprehend what dwarves are capable of. To them, our mountain city is at best a village.¡± Shocked, Mike replied, ¡°But it takes up the entire mountain!¡± Nick snorted in condensation, replying, ¡°Yes, one mountain. It barely manages to go underground. For us, it might seem impressive, but to dwarves, it¡¯s barely a start. When they build their city, they will hollow out their mountain, creating massive halls and forges. Then, they will delve into the earth below, finding caverns and tunnels connecting them to the surrounding mountain range. Within a hundred years, they will spread out through the area like a worm hollowing out an apple. Within a thousand, the earth below our city will belong to them. If it weren¡¯t for all the dangers underground, they¡¯d probably have hollowed out the ground below our entire kingdom by now.¡± Even the people who were somewhat familiar with dwarves were shaken by what Nick was saying. The very idea that there was so much more to the world below the ground was almost more than their minds could handle. It was like discovering that everything they knew was just scratching the surface of the material plane they¡¯d been living in. Vera¡¯s voice broke the moment''s tension quite well when she scolded her husband, ¡°Don¡¯t be so overdramatic. Dwarves don¡¯t have the numbers to do all that, and their population growth is at best a quarter of humanities. We¡¯re in no danger of being overrun. Both species are considering the alliance for a reason after all. Our kingdom will be able to expand into the areas controlled by the dwarves, and they¡¯ll be able to do the same in ours. It¡¯s a mutually beneficial arrangement. Likely, the king is just being practical. If the dwarves are willing to join Oglivarch, then why wouldn¡¯t we take advantage of the opportunity? It¡¯s not like they¡¯re any threat to us above ground.¡± Turning to look back at her new lord who was currently laughing his ass off as two dwarves grappled angrily with each other''s shoulders over an argument concerning the game he¡¯d introduced them to, she added, ¡°That is if humanity and dwarves can learn to live with each other, that is.¡± ¡ª-- Nero had to admit that he¡¯d missed this kind of atmosphere. The simple pleasure of drinking with new friends, not caring for a moment about all the responsibilities that had been weighing him down was like a breath of fresh air for his soul. These dwarves, while definitely not human, were quite fun to hang around with. And wasn¡¯t that a revelation! Nothing in his experience had prepared him for what it was like to interact with a different species that could talk and interact with him. To him, there were no words for it. Even in all the fantasy novels and movies he¡¯d enjoyed, he¡¯d never thought about dwarves and other fantasy species being all that different than humans. But now that he was here, interacting with them, he was finally able to understand what being a different species really meant.Stolen from its rightful place, this narrative is not meant to be on Amazon; report any sightings. Perhaps it was only due to the benefit of his essence field, but he could just ¡®feel¡¯ that they weren¡¯t like him. Despite on the surface having so much in common, he just couldn¡¯t connect with them. He could understand them, even comprehend how they saw the world, but he couldn¡¯t truly be one of them. It really was a feeling he couldn¡¯t put into words. If his personality weren¡¯t so politically correct, he¡¯d liken it to how Jane Goodall lived among the gorillas¡­ with them, but not one of them. Even having the thought he felt somewhat uncomfortable with the comparison. Dwarves were not gorillas, and he was not an anthropologist. But, he couldn¡¯t ignore the fact that everything about them was subtly different than what he was familiar with. They obviously liked drinking, just like him. They were on the whole just as brash as he was. Even their sense of humor was somewhat similar. However, it was like two cars going to the same place. One was a 4 door sedan with seatbelts and airbags, economical and well-rounded. The other was a flatbed truck with a performance lift kit. It was built for a purpose, and everything about it was geared toward that fact. Regardless of how much they had in common, the not-so-subtle differences were just too much for him to ignore. Rather than finding the sense of social disconnect disheartening, Nero found the phenomenon amazing. He¡¯d never experienced anything like it. Not just that, he¡¯d never even conceptualized such a feeling. It was exhilarating, and something he¡¯d been missing since he¡¯d arrived in this fantasy world. Patting Mavros on the shoulder in congratulations for the man¡¯s win against some of the other dwarves who¡¯d stepped up to compete with his team, Nero said, ¡°Well done! Now you¡¯re getting the hang of it!¡± With a toothy smile splitting his beard, Mavros looked up at the lively lad and replied, ¡°Alright, I¡¯ll admit that your watered-down beer isn¡¯t completely pointless. If we¡¯d been drinking dwarven ale like this, we¡¯d all be under the tables by now. But, don¡¯t think I won¡¯t forget the reason I came over here.¡± Sensing the mood change, the dwarves around the table calmed down, all of them shaking off their buzz and paying attention to their king. Nero nodded in agreement, understanding that the king wasn¡¯t going to be put off for too much longer. ¡°Yeah, that wasn¡¯t my intention. I just didn¡¯t like you giving me shit about the quality of the free beer I was offering you,¡± he replied with a smirk. Several dwarves, despite trying to look intimidating, guffawed in laughter before suffering elbows from the dwarves around them. Even Mavros Mithrilstrike couldn¡¯t help but grin at Nero¡¯s clever rebuke. ¡°Fair enough, lad. You¡¯ve made your point, now let¡¯s get to the matter of my mountain!¡± he said firmly. Nero crossed his arms with a smirk and replied, ¡°You mean my mountain! It¡¯ll be yours after I give it to you.¡± Frowning in thought, Mavros looked like he was deciding whether or not he should be feeling insulted by Nero¡¯s tone. He¡¯d had a good opinion of the lad up until now, and while what he¡¯d just said could be interpreted as hostility, it also wasn¡¯t untrue. It was the lad¡¯s mountain, and if this were a dwarven matter, even a king couldn¡¯t arbitrarily give away his subject¡¯s property. But, the lad wasn¡¯t a dwarf, he was a human, and the human king had made the deal. So, if the human king wanted to screw over his subject, then why should he even care? Human problems were for humans to deal with. Noticing the situation turning tense, Nero didn¡¯t let the awkward moment linger. ¡°Of course, I¡¯m perfectly willing to hand the mountain over to you. After all, from what I understand that¡¯s what you were promised. But, it seems to me that you and I are in the same boat. We¡¯ve both been screwed over by the people who handled the deal. I mean seriously, someone in the capital sold you something they didn¡¯t own, and you guys bought something that wasn¡¯t theirs to sell. It¡¯s up to us to work it out ourselves. You should complain to whoever made your deal for you, and I¡¯ll do the same on my end. Honestly, both sides are to blame.¡± Seeing the furious scowl developing on the dwarf king¡¯s brow, Nero added with a chuckle, ¡°Come on, don¡¯t look at me like that. Did whoever made the deal for you hand you over any ownership papers? Or did they just send you off with a promise that it was all handled?¡± Suddenly pausing, Mavros¡¯ burgeoning tirade died on his lips. Muttering angrily, he said, ¡°That¡¯s exactly what they did.¡± Reaching out, Nero patted the dwarf consolingly on his shoulder. ¡°I don¡¯t know anything about dwarven politics, but I think you might have been set up. I know for a fact that I sure as hell probably was. Bastards probably wanted us at each other''s throats for some reason. I¡¯ve half a mind to just send the capital an outrageously priced bill for the mountain and wait to see what happens. However, I know that will screw you and probably ruin this whole budding friendship we¡¯ve got going on.¡± Mavros, uncomfortable with the lad''s familiarity folded his arms and said, ¡°Alright then, so what do you propose we do about it then?¡± Nero, feeling a bit buzzed by all the beer he¡¯d been drinking replied, ¡°Well, if I¡¯m understanding this whole deal correctly, you¡¯re supposed to be starting a city at the mountain in question, right? Well, I have no problem with that. It¡¯s not like I¡¯m currently using it at the moment. Also, you¡¯re probably going to be needing a trading partner going forward. Starting a city isn¡¯t something you¡¯re able to do without resources. And it just so happens that I¡­ well, my house¡­ an associate¡­ Fuck it, my Vera has a shipping company. Why don¡¯t I sell you the mountain for an exclusive shipping contract?¡± Turning to look over his shoulder, Nero shouted, ¡°Hey, Vera! Come over here for a second.¡± Mavros, looking somewhat interested in the idea, dropped his hands to his hips and watched as the tall and impeccably dressed human sauntered over. She was obviously female and looked like the typical human ¡®talkers¡¯ that he¡¯d gotten used to seeing in the capital. Gesturing with his chin toward her, he asked Nero, ¡°This lass is part of your clan?¡± Nero, guessing at the implications, replied easily, ¡°Yup. This here is Vera Salvatore-Verena. She¡¯s the head of a shipping conglomerate that handles most of the shipping for Dorchester and the surrounding areas. I¡¯m not exactly sure of all the politics, but at one point I owned half the company. After my¡­ clans¡­ founding, I¡¯m not sure exactly how that has changed.¡± Seeing as Vera was about to explain, Nero held up a hand to stop her. ¡°And I don¡¯t want to. I¡¯m sure at some point, I¡¯ll learn all about it, but now is not the time. The point is, she¡¯s got a bunch of wagons and whatever else they use to ship stuff here. How about I give you the mountain, and you agree to use her for your shipping needs? Hell, I think I¡¯ve¡­ or she¡¯s¡­ someone¡¯s got some manufacturing companies that can get you whatever it is you need. After you move in, you can trade ore, gems, or whatever else you find for whatever you want. This way, everyone is happy, everyone gets rich, and we don¡¯t have to involve those politicians back in the capital. It¡¯s a win-win for everybody.¡± The dwarf standing next to Mavros stepped forward, Nero recognizing him as the one called Crusher. ¡°How do we know you¡¯re not going to fleece us with your pricing? Being unable to scout the competition for better offers is unacceptable.¡± Mavros clearly agreed, as his expression dimmed while he crossed his arms again. Nero, slipping easily into his sales mode replied, ¡°Vera¡¯s as honest as they come. Hell, she¡¯s probably got loads of records proving her competitive pricing. Besides, you¡¯d probably have ended up dealing with her anyway¡­ her company is the premiere shipping company for all of Dorchester. At best, this deal is just so it doesn¡¯t look to the other nobles like I handed over my mountain to you for free. I do have a reputation to protect after all. Do we really have to start off our relationship thinking the worst of each other?¡± Mavros¡¯ expression softened a little. As far as he was concerned, the lad was right on several points he wasn¡¯t willing to admit out loud. And this would be a good deal if the lass was as honest as the lad said. He¡¯d get his mountain, and he wouldn¡¯t have to set up supply chains with unfamiliar humans who he¡¯d be reluctant to trust. But, exclusive contracts meant that he¡¯d have to give his word¡­ and a dwarf never broke his word. Keeping his tone calm, Mavros said, ¡°Alright. I¡¯ll agree to use your shipping company, providing that you can produce evidence of everything you¡¯ve claimed. If she¡¯s really as fair as you say she is, then I have no problem with my clan working with her.¡± Feeling Vera¡¯s annoyance with the dwarf¡¯s questioning of her professionalism, Nero patted her on the back and spoke up before she could say anything to ruin the deal he was making. ¡°Great. You guys feel free to empty that keg we recently tapped, and I¡¯ll head over to my clan and get the paperwork in order.¡± Before Mavros and the other dwarves could even say goodbye, Nero was already leading the still-silent Vera away. Reaching out with his link to her, he waited for her to accept the connection. The moment she did, he hastily said, ¡°Don¡¯t say anything! Just listen for a second! I¡¯ve agreed to hand over the mountain to the dwarves, and in exchange, we¡¯re getting exclusive rights as their sole trading partner. As long as we provide a reasonable price, we¡¯re good. You just need to show him some proof that we¡¯re not going to screw them, and we¡¯re good to go!¡± Turning to look at Nero in shock as they made their way back to the table with the rest of House Walker¡¯s leadership, Vera replied, ¡°That¡¯s¡­ that¡¯s not possible. The contracts with Dorchester have already been signed by the dwarven kings. No singular house has the right to ignore them.¡± Chuckling out loud, Nero replied with a smirk, ¡°Yeah, but I never agreed to sell my mountain to the dwarven council, so all those contracts are invalid. Or at least, we can argue that they are, can¡¯t we? By the time the dwarves move in, and we¡¯ve already set up a supply chain, who¡¯s going to argue with us? If we handle it right, our new friends will be just as annoyed with the other nobles sticking their noses into their business as we are. The key is to handle everything quickly and get our paperwork in order.¡± Having arrived at the table, and seeing everyone staring at them in curiosity, Vera replied out loud, ¡°If your gambit succeeds, this may turn into your most profitable idea yet.¡± Nero patted his beer-filled belly happily and said, ¡°I¡¯ve always been my best work when I¡¯ve been a little buzzed. It¡¯s been both a personality flaw and virtue in equal measure. Now you all can work out the details¡­ I need to take a¡­ I mean, I need to find a restroom.¡± Waving goodbye over his shoulder, Nero walked off toward the doors humming the tune ¡®Off to see the wizard¡¯. Chapter 236 - Idealism vs. Reality Having taken a seat at the table they¡¯d been using for the drinking game, Mavros pondered over the conversation he¡¯d just had with the human lad. While half-listening to the dwarves arguing amongst themselves all around him, he carefully reviewed every single word that had been said. The human, Nero Walker, had snuck in several phrases and hints that he just couldn¡¯t get out of his head. Had the other dwarven kings deliberately mishandled the negotiations for his clan¡¯s new mountain? Was this more than just a misunderstanding? And if so, who was the target¡­ the human lad¡­ or him? He wasn¡¯t old enough to remember when the humans here first decided to stop their constant wars and come together to found their kingdom, but his grandfather was. Ages ago, before the old dwarf joined the stones he often spoke to a young Mavros about that time. Mavros remembered hearing how surprising it was, and how pessimistic his grandfather and the other dwarves were about the human¡¯s chances of success. Yet, he was old enough to remember when clan Shimmershield announced the first trading agreement they reached with the persistent human diplomats. Several dwarven kings had even come together to form their own ¡®council¡¯ in imitation of the human¡¯s leadership structure. Dwarven clans grew slowly, but persistently, and he was a member of the council of kings when they first heard about the human¡¯s intentions of cooperation. He¡¯d thought it was a fanciful idea at the time, something to think about but not take too seriously. Now, after having suffered the shame of losing his clan¡¯s ancestral mountain, he had been taken in by that dream¡­ betting everything on it. Pounding his gauntleted fist on the table to grab everyone¡¯s attention he growled, ¡°So! You all seem to have your opinions about the lad¡¯s proposal, and there¡¯ll be plenty of time to discuss them.¡± Focusing his glare on Ironwick, he added, ¡°But what I want to know is if there is any truth to what the lad said about someone interfering with our deal.¡± Ironwick, stroking his beard in thought replied, ¡°I¡¯ve been thinking about that too. While the lad was careful not to throw around any specific accusations, he did bring up a good point. I was the one who picked this city as the site of our first dwarven mountain in the human lands, and I recall the council of kings not being all that happy about it. I don¡¯t know if they were just intending to stall¡­ or if there was a larger plan they had that my decision interfered with, but I can tell ya that they weren¡¯t too happy with me.¡± Mavros¡¯ glare at Ironwick didn¡¯t diminish in the least, as he and Ironwick had a long history of conflicts. The dwarf had been one of the generals who had refused to help his clan in their hour of need. He hadn¡¯t been happy with the fact that Ironwick was here and believed he was only sticking around to keep an eye on him at the behest of the dwarven kings. But perhaps, there was more going on here than he¡¯d known about. Was Ironwick here as a punishment and not a spy? Nodding in understanding, Mavros declared, ¡°Well whatever the reason for the screw-up, we¡¯re here now and we¡¯ll just have to make the best of it. The council of kings has no power in the human lands, and going forward we can only rely on ourselves. Once my clan gets settled, I already intended to cut off our ties with them anyway, so it¡¯s no great loss.¡± Crusher, thoughtfully added, ¡°What we need to do is develop our own support structure here, just like we¡¯d planned to.¡± Mavros nodded in agreement, replying, ¡°That¡¯s right. But we can¡¯t assume the agreements we had with the capital will be of any help. The lad¡¯s right about that at least. Our deal with the capital was for a mountain, and they didn¡¯t deliver. So, as far as I¡¯m concerned, none of what we agreed to is still valid. From here on out, we¡¯ll have to play it by ear. If the human lad¡¯s shipping company is as honest as he says it is, then I have no problem using them. It won¡¯t be all that hard to verify their pricing lists.¡± Ironwick leaned forward over the table and said seriously, ¡°The dwarven kings aren¡¯t going to like that. They had an agreement with the city through the human kingdom¡¯s capital. We¡¯re supposed to adhere to it. No singular noble clan of humans should be in control of our trade, we¡¯re supposed to work with a minimum of ten of their ¡®houses¡¯... and primarily with their local king¡­ or city lord.¡± Grumbling sounds of unhappy dwarves filled the table before Mavros once again gathered everyone¡¯s attention with a gauntleted slap of the table. ¡°Well, they¡¯re just going to have to deal with it. I don¡¯t like being played, and I won¡¯t be putting up with any political maneuvering by third parties. Whether it was their fault or not, they have no say in what I do. My agreement with them ended the moment they failed to procure me my mountain. Same with the human¡¯s so-called ¡®city lord¡¯. As the lad said, they tried to sell me something they didn¡¯t own¡­ so I won¡¯t be trusting them going forward.¡± Crusher and many other dwarves raised their tankards in agreement. Even Ironwick gave a singular nod of acceptance. Dwarves prided themselves on their honesty, and in the face of lies and politics, they always responded decisively. As a group, their conversation paused when they heard a commotion at a nearby table. Turning their heads in curiosity, they saw several fancily dressed humans arguing with each other. ¡ª-- Nero returned from the surprisingly nearby bathroom in a good mood. While his thoughts were currently on Dorchester¡¯s architectural brilliance in including bathrooms so close to their grand ballrooms, he was surprised to see the table where his house¡¯s leaders sat being swarmed by angry nobles. Rushing over quickly, he intended to find out what was going on. Thinking quickly, he reached out through his link to contact Nick who¡¯d be the one most likely to know what was going on. Feeling the connection established, Nero asked quickly, ¡°What the hell is happening over there?¡± Nick replied just as quickly, ¡°Vera and the others agreed to find out our options by contacting Lords Bennings and Brinks. One of them must have leaked your agreement with the dwarves. It seems the nobility of Dorchester has come over to voice their displeasure.¡± Nero, blinking a few times in surprise at the development replied, ¡°Oh, really? Well, we¡¯ll just have to see about that.¡± Cutting off the connection, Nero used his shorter height to shoulder through the crowd. On average, most people here were around 6 feet tall, so at 5¡¯4¡¯¡¯ he had no trouble pushing his way forward. Emerging out of the crowd of observing nobles, he saw Vera and Cathleen in a standoff against the City Lord Cosgrave and the rest of Dorchester¡¯s council of leadership. Nearby, he saw the rest of House Walker¡¯s leadership standing in quiet support, their grim faces full of resolve. Between the two sides, the woman he recognized as Lord Bennings, the city¡¯s resident law expert, was trying and failing to calm things down. Shouting loudly, unconsciously infusing essence into his voice, he demanded, ¡°What the hell is going on here?¡± The two sides turned to look at him in unison, their argument forgotten for a moment. Before anyone else could speak, City Lord Cosgrave stepped forward with her typical imperious expression on her face. ¡°You cannot sign an exclusive contract to act as an intermediary with the dwarven settlement. Dorchester and the kingdom have already come to an agreement with them. As a noble of Oglivarch, you will have to adhere to the law like everyone else.¡± Nero, pissed off by her tone, replied icily, ¡°Oh? And did that agreement include anything about whose mountain it was that you were selling them? Or did you forget to consider that little problem?¡± City Lord Cosgrave smoothly responded, ¡°Of course not. The kingdom has every right to transfer any of its holdings to another party. Furthermore, it has every right to buy out any noble¡¯s property at market rates. Rest assured, you¡¯ll be adequately compensated for your mountain as the law demands. Dorchester will buy back your mountain before selling it to the kingdom, and from the kingdom, it will be transferred to the dwarves. The agreements have already been handled.¡± Nero, stepping closer to the two groups replied, ¡°So, you believe I don¡¯t have a say in the matter? Laws of eminent domain and all that. That¡¯d probably be true if you didn¡¯t already sign the paperwork with the dwarves, and this was all still hypothetical. But the capital already did. In fact, from what I understand, the dwarves were told before they came here that the mountain in question was already theirs, isn¡¯t that right Mavros?¡± The entire crowd, including House Walker¡¯s leadership and the Dorchester council, turned to look at where Nero was staring. Standing there, surrounded by his armored dwarves was the dwarven king, King Mavros Mithrilsrike¡­ who was looking particularly pissed at the moment. ¡°Aye, that they did. I personally signed the receipt of the mountain. The first I heard of the mountain not being theirs to sell was when I arrived here. So, as far as I¡¯m concerned, that agreement is no longer valid,¡± he declared firmly. Offering a grin, Nero held out his hands as if demonstrating his powerlessness. ¡°See, it¡¯s not my fault the kingdom screwed up. I¡¯m just playing the hand that I¡¯ve been dealt. If the kingdom wasn¡¯t willing to pay me for my mountain, then why shouldn¡¯t I sell it directly to the dwarves?¡± Lord Bennings, looking rather stressed, stepped forward into the middle of the now four-way confrontation. ¡°Everyone please keep calm, this matter should be handled with appropriate decorum!¡± Nero, not interested in letting the matter be decided by backroom dealing, replied, ¡°If I¡¯m not mistaken, aren¡¯t you the head of the Tower of Law? What does the law have to say about the kingdom giving away a citizen¡¯s land before paying them for it?¡± Grimacing in annoyance, Lord Bennings replied, ¡°Lord Walker, I¡¯m sure this is all just a misunderstanding. By backdating a few things, all of this can be rectified by the end of the day. There is no reason for any of this to get out of hand.¡± Nero, unwilling to compromise, responded with feigned anger, ¡°And why should I agree to that? I¡¯m not the one who screwed up. The dwarves want a mountain, and I¡¯ve got one to sell them. There are dates on paperwork for a reason. If the capital had done its job, and everything was already legal¡­ then why would you need to backdate anything? I like the dwarves, so I¡¯m selling my mountain to them.¡±If you spot this story on Amazon, know that it has been stolen. Report the violation. Sensing a chink in Nero¡¯s argument, Lord Bennings replied, ¡°You can¡¯t. They aren¡¯t citizens of Oglivarch. The paperwork granting them rights to own land in Oglivarch are the same agreements that you¡¯re contesting as illegal. Only the capital and the royal family have the right to declare who owns property in the kingdom. As a private citizen, you must adhere to the laws of the land.¡± Nero, thinking quickly replied, ¡°But I¡¯m not a citizen of Dorchester, now am I? I¡¯m a unique, and therefore a citizen of Oglivarch itself. I merely transferred control of my assets to my regional vassals, House Verena.¡± Lord Bennings quickly shook her head. ¡°No, Lord Walker. When you became a unique, you not only transferred control but ownership to them. Uniques cannot by law own property or businesses outside of an estate in any city or land in the kingdom. You can have vassals and regional assets, but they must be under the ownership of local powers.¡± Nero, not having realized that he may have just been guilty of the same thing he¡¯d accused the capital of was caught off guard by her argument. ¡®This is why I hate politics¡­ it¡¯s all semantics decided by private interests,¡¯ he thought to himself. Vera, seeing her Nero losing this very public debate, stepped forward. ¡°While Lord Walker may not still ¡®own¡¯ the mountain, as his vassal his decisions dictate House Verena¡¯s policies. If he wishes to sell the mountain directly to the dwarves for trading rights, House Verena is more than willing to comply,¡± she stated firmly. Lord Bennings, offered Vera a look of understanding tinged with sympathy before replying, ¡°I¡¯m sorry Lady Verena, but as I said previously, the citizenry of Oglivarch is not legally able to sell the kingdom¡¯s land to outside powers. The dwarves will have to come to an agreement with the capital before anything can move forward. If they wish to invalidate the agreement they reached with the capital due to Oglivarch¡¯s mishandling of the issue of the mountain¡¯s ownership, then that is their right. However, none of this should be decided by local powers.¡± Mavros, having followed the discussion carefully, shouted, ¡°So no one here can sell me my mountain? Then what are we even doing here? You humans and your politics are just a waste of time! I¡¯ve half a mind to just call this whole thing off and find an unclaimed mountain of my own!¡± Seeing as things were getting out of hand, City Lord Cosgrave stepped forward to try and calm things down. ¡°There is no need for that King Mithrilstrike. Dorchester has every intention of fulfilling the agreement our kingdom has reached with you and the dwarven council of kings. Lord Walker will be compensated for his mountain in due time through his vassal house, and we can put this unpleasant misunderstanding behind us.¡± While the heated argument was going on, Nero mentally took a step back to try and look at the situation logically. He wasn¡¯t exactly being taken advantage of. If Dorchester¡­ or the kingdom¡­ or whoever ended up paying him what he was supposed to have received for the mountain, then he¡¯d still be coming out ahead. All he¡¯d be missing out on was the exclusive contract with the dwarves which had just been a spur-of-the-moment thought he¡¯d come up with. The idea, though profitable, only existed as a theoretical concept for less than an hour. ¡®The important thing is to remember the reason why I presented the idea in the first place,¡¯ he thought to himself. Someone had tried to sow discord between him and the dwarves. He didn¡¯t know why, or what their endgame was, but Vera had said it was happening. He had no real understanding of politics or laws here, so he couldn¡¯t be sure as to how she¡¯d come to that conclusion, but she had. Having taken her at her word, he¡¯d tried to befriend the dwarves and then on a whim thought up the idea of the exclusive trading contract. He should have known that it wouldn¡¯t have worked. In his old life on earth, powerful economic interests always trumped everything. Even if he somehow succeeded and got the contract, House Verena would probably end up suffering a noble war for control of it. The nobility would never allow only one house to control that much money. Having come to a decision on the best way to handle the situation, he interrupted the ongoing conversation. ¡°Fine! I get it. The powers that be want the contract with the dwarves to go through, regardless of right or wrong.¡± Lord Bennings, looking insulted, replied swiftly, ¡°It¡¯s not a matter of right or wrong, it¡¯s a matter of legality. The -¡± Interrupting her, Nero held up a hand and snarled, ¡°Save it! I don¡¯t want to hear the justifications. When it comes to complicated stuff like this, ¡®legality¡¯ is a matter of interpretation. Which rule is enforced with priority is a matter of politics, and I¡¯m not going to get into a debate about it.¡± Now infuriated, Lord Bennings was about to go on a rant about the impartiality of the law and the history of Oglivarchian justice but was halted by Nero turning his attention to the dwarven king. ¡°Mavros, I¡¯m sorry, but the nobility isn¡¯t going to let our deal go through. I¡¯m sure you¡¯ll still get your mountain, and I wish you and your clan all the best of luck with your city. House Walker will do all that it can to ensure that you get what you¡¯ve been promised. Just know that whoever was behind this ¡®miscommunication¡¯ is probably still plotting something, so keep your eyes open,¡± he warned. Not giving anyone time to think too much about what he¡¯d just said, he raised his voice to address the entire crowd who¡¯d been watching, ¡°Now, thank you all for coming to the oath-giving ceremony for my house, but I believe you¡¯ve all overstayed your welcome. The party is over, and now you all need to leave. As I said during the ceremony, I¡¯ve got a war to plan, and more important things to deal with than politics and backstabbing. So, get out!¡± Turning his attention back to the dwarven king, he added in a friendlier tone, ¡°I hope you remember who your friends are. House Walker and its vassal house, House Verena, will always be there if you need anything.¡± Turning on his heel, he marched off as the crowd in front of him hurried to get out of the way. Over his shoulder, he added in a mocking shout, ¡°Welcome to Dorchester!¡± Behind him, Nero left nothing but chaos as the nobility felt insulted and his house¡¯s leadership was left to handle the fallout. He was sure that Vera could handle everything, despite knowing that he¡¯d be getting an earful about it later. But, his lingering buzz from the beer he¡¯d drunk was already fading, and he simply didn¡¯t feel up to dealing with any of it. Seeing Ms. Davis rushing over to him, Nero said firmly, ¡°Does this place have a big ass library filled with magic books? If so, I need you to lead me there and then bring me a pitcher of coffee and some finger sandwiches¡­ I¡¯ve got work to do.¡± Not put off by his tone at all, she replied quickly, ¡°Of course, my lord. Right this way.¡± Moving through the halls, Nero¡¯s mind raced through everything that he¡¯d recently been through. A lot has happened since this morning. He¡¯d founded a house accepting who knows how many people¡¯s pledges of lifelong fealty, found out that he¡¯d had a mining town that was being given away, met some dwarves, drank with some dwarves, realized how different species could be, and gotten into an even worse conflict with the local nobility than he¡¯d already had been. Even worse, he¡¯d found out that he¡¯d underestimated what ¡®transferring ownership¡¯ of all of his assets had really meant. While he¡¯d had the situation explained to him, it hadn¡¯t sunk in as well as it should have. He no longer was in control of all that wealth he¡¯d accumulated. Were the accounts he had emptied? Did he even have a bank account anymore? Who was currently in charge of his finances? Running his hands over his face as he walked, he groaned out loud in annoyance. He honestly couldn¡¯t bring himself to care about all of this nonsense. While he knew it was important, it was just too much for him to think about. He would rather be focusing on magic and his upcoming adventure into the mountain filled with kobalds. Before long, Nero found himself being led into the library. Despite every book most likely having a copy of itself on the estate''s private Thought Hub, he wasn¡¯t surprised to find that there was, in fact, a big ass library full of books just waiting for him to explore it. The large doors leading to the library swung open easily, presenting him with an unobstructed view of the most amazing sight he¡¯d ever seen. It was a scene right out of a story. The library had tables and comfortable chairs spread out all over the place, each with essence lights hovering over them. The walls were hidden by tall and imposing stand-alone shelves filled to the brim with books on what he assumed was every subject of study imaginable. The ceiling was so high that it was probably 4 stories. Landings and bridges were crossing from different areas, each with shadowed areas for privacy. It was more than a room¡­ it was a spectacle. In awe, Nero walked forward slowly, drinking in the atmosphere, leaving Ms. Davis forgotten behind him. ¡°Well, that could have been handled better,¡± said a stern but amused voice coming from his right. Surprised, Nero spun to see who was there. Feeling a grin of amusement, he couldn¡¯t help but think he should have expected to see the old man popping up again out of nowhere. ¡°Jennings, we missed you at the party. You should have come, there was cake,¡± he said lightly, greeting the man with an offhanded wave. Rolling his eyes, Jennings replied, ¡°I was busy. But, don¡¯t worry, I was watching. I saw you¡¯re interaction with the dwarves and your attempt at hogging all their upcoming trade. You didn¡¯t actually think that was going to work, did you?¡± Shrugging his shoulders as if he didn¡¯t care, Nero¡¯s attention returned to visually exploring the library he was in. ¡°Not really, but I had to try, didn¡¯t I? Besides, Vera said someone was trying to use me to piss off the dwarves. Now they¡¯re pissed at the nobles and House Walker looks like a fellow victim. Good news for me, bad news for whoever was plotting against me.¡± Jennings, rubbing his chin in thought, replied, ¡°Yes, in that regard you were successful. However, I¡¯m not sure you didn¡¯t play right into their hands.¡± Nero, not particularly interested in talking about this anymore replied, ¡°There¡¯s nothing I can do about people plotting and scheming. All I care about is how it affects me. If they¡¯re using me for a plot I¡¯m unaware of, and I end up coming out the better for it, I don¡¯t particularly care if I figure it out afterward. Wasting time worrying about what other people are doing is for idiots who think too highly of themselves. Take everything as it comes¡­ that¡¯s what I always say.¡± Raising his hand to point off randomly in a direction, Nero changed the subject and asked, ¡°You wouldn¡¯t happen to know how this place is organized, would you?¡± Jennings, caught off guard by Nero¡¯s question, as he¡¯d been focused on listening to Nero¡¯s life philosophy, replied in confusion, ¡°Uh¡­ what?¡± Gesturing again at all the shelves, Nero repeated, ¡°The books, man. How do I find anything I¡¯m looking for in here?¡± Blinking rapidly to mentally catch up, Jennings replied, ¡°Use your link. Everything is categorized and recorded. How else do you expect your servants to be able to know where to return the books you take out?¡± Frowning, Nero opened his link to find the section on the library, quickly finding what he was looking for. Everything was listed, along with an included map and directions attached to a search function. He could even use the link to mentally open the individual books which had been transcribed into a format he could mentally review. Glaring at Jennings, Nero asked, ¡°If everything is already on the link, then what¡¯s the point of having a physical library at all?¡± Jennings replied with a smile, ¡°Because links require mental energy to use, and aren¡¯t suitable for most people to connect with all day.¡± Nodding in understanding, Nero recalled once having heard something about that. Having used the link to find the section on essence techniques, Nero was about to go find the answer to a question about his magic armor that had been bothering him when he realized something. Looking over at Jennings, he asked, ¡°So, did you just stop by to give me shit about my failed plan to monopolize the dwarves, or did you need something?¡± Walking up to Nero, Jennings put a gentle hand on his shoulder and looked into his eyes with a serious expression. ¡°No, as much as I¡¯d like to discuss how you got along so well with the dwarves, or debate the strategy you used to counter the hidden players plotting against you¡­ I believe it¡¯s time you and I had another serious talk about your future.¡± Tilting his chin up to stare at the ceiling, Nero released an involuntary groan of annoyance. The last time Jennings had sat him down for a talk, the man had widened his worldview and ruined his mental state for a week. If this ¡®talk¡¯ was going to be anything like that one, he regretted not having stored one of the casks of beer he¡¯d gotten for the dwarves, because he was feeling that he might end up needing a drink¡­ or five. Chapter 237 - Whats to come and why. City Lord Cosgrave stomped into her office, stating loudly in a tone devoid of levity, ¡°Well, that could have gone better.¡± Behind her, Jessica Chandler, her aide, and Head Guard Dalton filed into the room with equally blank expressions on their faces. Neither of them said anything, not wanting to upset her further. As city lord, she had to maintain her public persona of control, so they were used to seeing her vent her emotions like this in private. For them, it was an honor to be considered a confidant. Collapsing into her office chair, City Lord Cosgrave rubbed her palms over her eyes to alleviate the headache she was suffering. The silence in the room hung heavily over everyone present. After releasing a long breath to calm herself down, she gestured to both of them to sit. ¡°Alright, we¡¯ve done all we can to placate the nobles for the time being. Jessica, how is Lord Bennings doing with the paperwork?¡± Jessica, her link lit on her temple, responded quickly, ¡°She¡¯s had people on it since she¡¯d discovered the issue, and personally been overseeing the work since the events at House Walker¡¯s oath-giving ceremony. According to her, in order to handle it here in Dorchester without involving the capital, we¡¯ll need House Walker¡¯s cooperation. They need to agree to backdate the transfer of the mountain.¡± Scoffing in annoyance, City Lord Cosgrave replied angrily, ¡°That shouldn¡¯t be an issue. Lord Walker made it perfectly clear that he was willing to let the matter go. And how have the dwarves been handling the aftermath of Lord Walker¡¯s public declaration?¡± Jessica held up her hands in surrender. ¡°Not so fast, my lord. There is another issue you¡¯ll have to speak with Lord Bennings about. If you recall, when Lord Walker was rewarded the mountain and the mining city, it was due to his success in the noble war with House Dorchen.¡± Waving her hand as if she wanted her aide to get to the point, City Lord Cosgrave replied, ¡°Yes, I remember. What about it?¡± Jessica, awkwardly shifting in her seat coughed into her hand. ¡°Well, it seems that when the mountain was evaluated for its worth, no one took into account that the village had been wiped out and its ore production halted. However, the kingdom will only be compensating the city for its current worth. Therefore, we¡¯ll have to cover the difference ourselves.¡± City Lord Cosgrave¡¯s expression remained for the most part blank. However, both Jessica and Dalton could tell she was privately fuming in anger. It had been she who had worked behind the scenes to overvalue the mountain so as to limit how much Lord Walker received as his award. It had been just one of the ways that she¡¯d secretly worked against the young lord. If that fact were discovered, it could lead to some extremely unpleasant accusations. Gritting her teeth, City Lord Cosgrave said, ¡°Do it. We need this matter over with as soon as possible. Make sure to ensure that Lord Bennings knows that it was just a mistake, and not to bother looking into it any further.¡± Jessica, understanding the situation, along with everything that was not being said, replied, ¡°Of course, my lord. In that case, Lord Bennings should have everything handled in a few more hours.¡± Turning to address Head Guard Dalton, City Lord Cosgrave asked, ¡°Are the nobles causing any trouble?¡± The man sat at attention in his chair, looking every bit the formidable warrior that he was. ¡°Nothing serious, my lord. Your efforts to calm them down after we left the ceremony seemed to have worked. They aren¡¯t taking to the Thought Hub to express their grievances, and no one seems to be gathering their forces.¡± Pushing for further clarification, City Lord Cosgrave asked, ¡°No one has applied for any duels, or taken any economic actions against House Walker or House Verena?¡± Shaking his head slightly, he replied, ¡°Not as far as I can tell, my lord.¡± Leaning back in her seat, she replied tiredly, ¡°Well, that¡¯s something at least. And what about the dwarves? How are they handling the situation?¡± Head Guard Dalton¡¯s stoic expression broke for an instant, a slight grimace appearing on his face. ¡°They¡¯ve holed up in their rooms. The guards I¡¯ve had watching over them aren¡¯t able to tell me anything more. But I believe they may now be less interested in working with us. On the way back to the keep, several guards overheard them speaking in less than flattering terms about our city¡¯s honor.¡± Waving a hand dismissively in the air, she replied, ¡°That¡¯s to be expected. The situation we¡¯ve found ourselves in doesn¡¯t exactly paint the local nobility in the best light. However, all relationships can be mended with time and patience. Have you completed a threat assessment on them now that they¡¯ve arrived?¡± Nodding his head, he said, ¡°Yes and no. We¡¯ve based everything we know about them on the information we¡¯ve received from the capital. We know they don¡¯t level like us, fight like us, or even age like us. As far as we¡¯ve been able to tell, many of the dwarves who are here are older than everyone in Dorchester¡­ including the archmage. However, that doesn¡¯t necessarily mean that they are as powerful or dangerous as he is. Taking into account the records of human interactions with the dwarves, we believe that if it came down to it, with the archmage''s help¡­ we could handle them.¡± Lord Cosgrave replied icily, ¡°So with the help of the most powerful mage in Oglivarch, you believe you can handle them. That¡¯s not as encouraging to hear as you probably intended it to be.¡± Shrugging lightly, he replied, ¡°Without seeing them in action, we just don¡¯t know enough about what they¡¯re capable of. We know they¡¯re very physical fighters, weak in magic and large-scale warfare, but powerful in individual combat and technological levels. Simply put, they fight too differently from us to make an accurate threat assessment beyond what I¡¯ve already told you.¡± Jessica chimed in, ¡°I doubt very much that they¡¯ll resort to confrontation. They have no interest in war with a city above ground. They just want their mountain. We¡¯re more use to them alive and as trading partners than as adversaries.¡± Lord Cosgrave replied, ¡°Yes, that may be true. However, it also puts us at a disadvantage in the upcoming negotiations. We won¡¯t be dealing with them from a position of strength. And in time, our city may become nothing more than a gateway to trade with the disproportionally more powerful dwarven city they¡¯ll eventually build in their mountains.¡± While everyone sat in silence, contemplating their city¡¯s future, City Lord Cosgrave released another long breath in exasperation¡­ extremely unhappy with how things were going. ¡ª-- Following Jennings to one of the tables, Nero jumped into one of the chairs and collapsed in an overly dramatic display of his disinterest in the upcoming subject. Waving one hand languidly in the air, he said, ¡°OK, old man. Let me have it. What world-shattering information have I been ignoring? Have you discovered which powerful assholes are working against me? Or are you going to lecture me again about how I almost accidentally unraveled reality with my spell bomb? Don¡¯t tell me it''s about the dwarves? I was merely avoiding them being pissed at me. If those assholes in the keep have a problem with it, they can suck my left nut. And, I swear to whatever gods you believe in that if you mention the words ¡®destiny¡¯ or ¡®fate¡¯ I¡¯m going to do something very unpleasant to you.¡± Archmage Jennings took a seat across from him at the table with a slight smile on his face. ¡°Nothing like that I¡¯m afraid. I still haven¡¯t been able to discover who is behind those rumors coming out of the Faith district. And I believe you couldn¡¯t achieve a similar spell result if you tried. And I don¡¯t particularly care about your game with the dwarves and nobles at the moment. No, what I¡¯d like to talk with you about is how you survived your ¡®spell bomb¡¯.¡± Nero, already only half-listening to the old mage looked in confusion back at the door they¡¯d come from. ¡®Where did Ms. Davis go? She better not have forgotten about the coffee and finger sandwiches,¡¯ he thought to himself. Jennings, annoyed at Nero¡¯s wandering attention snapped, ¡°Nero! This is important!¡± Turning his stare away from the door and returning it to the old mage, Nero replied, ¡°Of course. I¡¯m all ears. Fire away!¡± Sighing, Jennings began, ¡°Nero, what do you recall from the moments directly after your ¡®spell bomb¡¯ went off?¡± Nero, confused, replied, ¡°Nothing¡­ why? And why are you bringing this up now? That was practically a week ago¡­ I think. I don¡¯t know, days are so long here that it¡¯s hard to keep track. What does it matter?¡± The archmage, looking for the moment as every bit the thousand-year-old mage that he was, kept his expression calm. ¡°I¡¯m bringing this up now because I¡¯ve had time to thoroughly investigate the event through multiple delves. I¡¯ve been able to piece together what happened, and what you did. Now, I¡¯d like to discuss with you what you remember from your point of view, and what the implications of what I discovered mean for your continued progress along your path.¡± Nero, trying to follow the man¡¯s overly-formal tone, replied, ¡°Very well. I¡¯m not sure what exactly happened. From my point of view, when the spell bomb went off, everything just stopped¡­ and then I blacked out. When I came to, everything in the area felt weird, and the essence in the ether felt sluggish and odd. I¡¯m not sure how, but I could just tell that casting any magic there would have been a bad idea. Beyond that, I¡¯ve got nothing. Why? What did you find out? And what do you mean you ¡®delved¡¯ for answers? How does that work?¡± Patiently, Jennings replied, ¡°Delving into the local essence flows is difficult, but not impossible. It allows for a mage to see what has happened in an area. To experience what the world has witnessed. It¡¯s very similar to what you¡¯ve been experiencing in your dreams.¡± Nero, shocked for a moment, before immediately remembering that the old man was always watching him, replied, ¡°Of course you knew about that. You were probably peeping on my conversation with Nick and Quincy when I told them about it.¡± Unashamed, Jennings replied, ¡°Yes, I was. You have a natural inclination for delving, which I believe is due to the nature of your soul and is connected to what I want to discuss with you.¡± Curious, Nero waved a hand, urging him to get to his point. Jennings folded his hands on the table and said, ¡°Nero, when you set off what you call your ¡®spell bomb¡¯, I¡¯ve already discussed with you how it affected the essence flows in the area. What I did not tell you was that, at the time, you were within the affected area, and what that meant for your physical body. Since then, I¡¯ve confirmed that you suffered exactly the same fate as everything else in the area¡­ your physical form was unraveled, its essence set free from the identity it had been given. In short, you died.¡± Nero, not nearly as surprised as he probably should have been, replied, ¡°Figures. I didn¡¯t exactly look all that healthy when I woke up afterward.¡± Jennings, frowning slightly at the fact that Nero didn¡¯t seem to be understanding what he was trying to tell him, tried again. ¡°Nero, you didn¡¯t just die as in your heart stopped beating and your body stopped working. Your physical form was unmade. Disintegrated. Destroyed. Gone.¡±Unauthorized duplication: this tale has been taken without consent. Report sightings. Nero, returning the man¡¯s frown, replied, ¡°Then how am I here?¡± Jennings, nodded once in acceptance of Nero finally grasping how important what he was telling was, and replied, ¡°That was the question I¡¯ve been working on answering. While the rest of the essence in the area broke apart into its simplest flows, your body managed to maintain an echo of its identity, held together by the power of your soul. To put it another way, your soul used your center to carve yourself back into existence.¡± Mildly confused, Nero responded as if his guess was actually a question, ¡°So, I looked like a starving meth addict afterward because my soul cast the body creation spell poorly?¡± Not willing to get into Nero¡¯s odd way of describing his state, Jennings ignored him. ¡°Your soul is powerful and incomprehensibly self-aware. We¡¯ve discussed how you are, in a way, just possessing the body you are using, but we¡¯ve never discussed the greater implications of that fact, and what it means for your future.¡± Nero, already guessing where he thought Jennings was going with this, replied, ¡°Yeah, I¡¯ve already figured out that I could probably body jack another dead body if I want. When I accidentally left this body behind and sent myself into that essence disturbance I was playing with, I figured that part out. Although, I still haven¡¯t figured out why I remember that out-of-body experience while forgetting most of the other ones. You solve that particular riddle yet?¡± Jennings, shook his head sharply, frowning at Nero¡¯s misunderstanding. ¡°No, Nero. I¡¯m not talking about that. I¡¯m talking about the fact that your soul is currently no longer using the body you had possessed. That body is gone, remember? Disintergrated?¡± Confused, Nero asked, ¡°OK. Then what¡¯s wrong with the meat suit I¡¯m currently wearing? It feels the same as the one I was using before.¡± As he spoke, he patted his chest firmly, as if demonstrating that everything was working the way it was supposed to. ¡°The body you¡¯re currently using is a copy, one made by you. You built it based on the identity pattern of the one you were using before. Your soul has adopted it as your physical embodiment. You self-actualized your presence here in the material plane,¡± Jennings declared in a tone that sounded rather ominous. Nero, not understanding what had Jennings acting so seriously, replied, ¡°That¡¯s cool, I guess. I¡¯m in a build-a-body based on the one I previously body-jacked. So that means I don¡¯t have to worry about dying to disintegration rays and stuff, right?¡± Jennings, clenching his hands together as if he were praying for the strength to put up with the young man in front of him, replied, ¡°Yes, but not just that. Don¡¯t you see? You¡¯ve managed to self-actualize your presence while not having achieved unity! If I can discover how you did it, then people who¡¯ve reached level 100 may not have to leave this plane of existence. We won¡¯t have to rely on the associated planes of heaven to still interact with this world. We could become truly immortal!¡± Nero, trying to keep up with what Jennings was saying, looked at the man like he was crazy. ¡°I thought you said that once people reach level 100 they move on to another plane of existence?¡± Jennings ran a hand through his hair, replying quickly, ¡°Usually, yes. Although very few people actually make it to level 100, when they do they don¡¯t have many choices. Either they have prepared well enough to take over a personal plane closely associated with this one, becoming a god. Or they try and maintain their identity and survive the dimensional sheer, making their way to a higher plane of physical existence. If they fail, they die, shedding their experiences and returning as a blank soul like everyone else.¡± Nero, nodding in understanding, replied, ¡°Bummer. So, figuring out how I did what I did can help you with that? I¡¯m guessing you¡¯re interested because you¡¯re coming up on level 100 and looking to avoid that fate. Not interested in becoming a god?¡± Jennings, with a slight smirk on his face, replied, ¡°I had no interest in becoming a god. They have very little power to affect this plane and rely too much on their followers for my liking. For the past several hundred years I¡¯ve been focusing on learning about the interactions between the planes of existence, trying to improve my chances of surviving the upcoming transition. I may not have any desire to stay on this material plane, but studying you can still help me. That¡¯s why your arrival is so important to me. Understanding how you survived the void with your personality intact is vital to my success at moving on with my mind intact.¡± Nero, feeling surprisingly happy with the fact that Jennings¡¯ interest in him had a self-centered reason, replied easily, ¡°I always knew there must be a reason why you were so interested in me. I never bought the whole I¡¯m-only-interested-in-studying-you-for-the-sake-of-science spiel.¡± Leaning forward in his seat, Nero asked seriously, ¡°So, how can I help? I¡¯m telling you now that I won¡¯t be letting myself get continually vaporized so that you can study how I put myself back together. If you blow my ass up, I¡¯m taking my soul and fucking off someplace you¡¯ll never find me¡­ So, keep your requests reasonable, old man!¡± Chucking, Jennings was about to reply when the doors to the library opened. In came Ms. Davis with two other servants, each carrying shining silver trays. Without a word, they delivered several platters of finger sandwiches and a delightfully arranged coffee service. Imitating the assholes he used to see on the shows he watched back on Earth, Nero raised his chin into the air and said in an exaggerated manner, ¡°Thank you, Ms. Davis. That will be all.¡± While he¡¯d been trying to be funny, the woman merely bowed with a smile and led the two servants away. Apparently, she¡¯d thought he was being serious and acted accordingly. Before he could call her back, Nero bit back the words and resigned himself to living with his newfound status. ¡®I¡¯m just going to have to get used to it,¡¯ he told himself while pouring himself a cup of coffee. Jennings, waiting patiently for them to leave, followed suit. When the doors closed, Jennings turned his raptor-like gaze back to Nero and said, ¡°I¡¯m not intending to do any invasive studies, so there¡¯s no need to worry. Besides, I agree that your soul most likely wouldn¡¯t willingly cooperate with anything like that. Remember, your soul is still you, more so for you than anyone else in fact. This body and mind that you have created are just vessels for your soul to interact with this material plane. Honestly, I still don¡¯t understand how you¡¯ve harmonized your aspects so well.¡± Nero, latching onto the word, replied quickly, ¡°Harmonization! I got a pillar effect that mentions that, but I don¡¯t really understand it. Can you explain to me what it means? Hopefully using small words that don¡¯t require me having to suffer through complicated translation magic interpreting things for me?¡± Interested, Jennings asked, ¡°What does your identity tell you exactly about your pillar effect?¡± Nero opened up his identity, reading off what the pillar effect said, ¡°It says, Increased ability to harmonize your attributes. It¡¯s got one star put into the effect at the moment. You should know that I don¡¯t remember actually choosing to put a star into it. Like that one time before, it happened without me willing it to.¡± ¡°Nero, I¡¯m sure you¡¯ve come to guess by now that you are the one who is making those decisions whether you realize it or not,¡± Jennings said firmly. Nero, nodding in understanding, replied, ¡°Like my subconscious or something. Right. That makes sense.¡± Jennings scoffed. ¡°No, Nero. Not your subconscious¡­ your soul. The you that is at the core of who you are. Remember, unlike everyone else on this plane, your soul has an identity that is carried over from wherever you came from. Your mind is just a projection of your soul¡¯s existence. It is the driving force behind the choices you don¡¯t remember making.¡± Nero rubbed the back of his neck and replied, ¡°Well, that¡¯s kind of a mind-fuck¡­ isn¡¯t it? I mean, the me that I am is just an expression of the me that is my soul. I guess I can kinda understand that. Where most people are creating their identity as they age and experience stuff, I already have a save file stored somewhere in my soul which is being updated by my experiences here. That¡¯s probably the answer to your question right there. Regardless, I want to know what that harmonization thing you were talking about means.¡± Jennings, ignoring Nero¡¯s inquiry, replied with razor-sharp interest, ¡°Wait. What do you mean about the answer to my question?¡± Nero, blinking a few times to register what Jennings was asking about, replied with confusion, ¡°Oh, I was talking about the answer about how to rebuild a body or whatever. You just need to update your soul¡¯s save file or whatever you want to call it. I have no idea how to do it, but I¡¯m guessing you¡¯ll probably be able to figure it out. Once you do that, your soul will be able to act independently, just like mine. From what I read about how you all have studied the afterlife, it¡¯s the mind¡¯s imprint that is sent on to your great reward. Souls here typically don¡¯t have updated identities, they¡¯re more like temporary files. Wait, is that what harmonization means? Like does increased harmonization have to do with my mind interacting with my soul?¡± Jennings, deep in thought, once again ignored Nero¡¯s question, muttering to himself, ¡°Could it be that simple? But how would I accomplish something like that?¡± Clapping his hands to force Jennings to snap out of it, Nero said loudly, ¡°Hey! Focus, man. Harmonization¡­ make with the explainy!¡± Jennings, still looking mostly lost in thought replied with a wave of his hand as if the subject wasn¡¯t worth getting into, ¡°Harmonization of attributes is similar in function to confluence. Where confluence is the ease at which attributes work together to form a whole, harmonization is about the fluidity of essence collaboration. It¡¯s a concept covering the interaction speed rather than the compatibility. It¡¯s not actually a stat or something so easily measured.¡± Nero, while munching on a finger sandwich, replied with a mouth full of food, ¡°Oh, that makes sense. Without a good connection, transfer speeds between the two files would suck. I bet that¡¯s why souls don¡¯t have enough time to form their own identity here. I bet it takes a long time to imprint a soul with a personality. Although, you¡¯d think 1000 years would be enough.¡± Jennings, coming out of his thoughts widened his eyes in sudden understanding. ¡°What did you just say?¡± Nero, washing down the last of his chewed food with some more coffee, looked over at the old mage in confusion. ¡°What do you mean? The transfer speed thing, or the comment about 1000 years being long enough for the soul imprint?¡± Jennings, practically sitting on the edge of his chair asked, ¡°What did you mean about the transfer speed and files and such? It sounded like you were talking about memory engrams, but different.¡± Nero, nodding in understanding, tried to explain the concept of computers by relating them to the Thought Hub. Before he even got to the concept of the internet, Jenning had stood up and begun pacing while furiously rubbing his chin in thought. Interrupting Nero, he said excitedly, ¡°So, you believe that your soul¡¯s mental imprint, as the driving force behind your existence, has harmonized itself to a sufficient level that it can actively interact with your mind! Then, through that, it can interact with the local essence to affect your body. By reversing that line of thought, I can forcefully create a link to my soul, imprinting my mind¡¯s engram more firmly onto my soul¡­ ensuring that it survives the destabilization effect of the void!¡± Nero, once again munching on a sandwich replied offhandedly, ¡°Sure. That¡¯s what I meant. One body, one mind, one soul, and all that. Seems kinda obvious when you think about how annoyingly cliche this world is I still don¡¯t understand why it doesn¡¯t automatically happen to people here, but whatever. It¡¯s probably some asshole in the higher planes interfering with the process if you ask me¡­ there¡¯s always someone to blame for shit like this.¡± Rolling his eyes hard, Jennings replied, ¡°No, Nero, no one is to blame for it. The process doesn¡¯t happen because souls aren¡¯t meant to hold a permanent imprint by their very nature, at least not in this world. I can only assume that where you come from is somehow different. Otherwise, your soul¡¯s mental imprint would have been wiped away like everyone else''s when you went through the void. All I need to do is figure out how to copy that aspect onto myself, and I¡¯ll be able to ensure that I survive the transfer to the next plane of existence with my identity intact. Don¡¯t you understand what that means? I can survive the transfer without suffering a complete personality collapse!¡± Nero, dusting off his hands of the clinging crumbs, replied, ¡°Yeah, that¡¯s great. Good for you. But I don¡¯t see what you¡¯re so happy about, you still have no idea how to do it.¡± Jennings, suddenly feeling an overwhelming urge to blast Nero into temporary nonexistence took a deep breath to calm himself down. ¡°Yes, thank you for pointing that out. But at least now I have a direction of study to pursue.¡± Nero, happy to be of help, asked, ¡°By the way, what does any of this have to do with my future? Wasn¡¯t that what you wanted to talk with me about?¡± Jennings, smirking evilly, replied, ¡°Well, I was initially intending to speak with you about the possibility of you working toward joining Oglivarch¡¯s pantheon, and the challenges your unique soul will face, but I don¡¯t think that is likely anymore as when¡­ or if you reach level 100 you will most likely choose to move on to a higher plane without issue.¡± Nero, not fully understanding what Jennings was talking about, gestured with his hand his disinterest. ¡°Yeah, I¡¯m not cut out for godhood. I¡¯m sure it¡¯s great and all, but I¡¯d rather just stick to living if that¡¯s all right with you. Besides, I¡¯ve got plenty of time before I have to think about any of that, right? What¡¯s the point in worrying about it now?¡± Jennings, now standing across from Nero after having been pacing, replied, ¡°Of course, why think about the future when you have so much going on at the moment? Kobalds, dwarves, war, and politics, are all vying for your attention. Declaring yourself an ¡®adventurer¡¯ is quite the apt name for what kind of lord you¡¯re becoming. Just keep yourself safe. I¡¯ll be in touch.¡± In a flash of golden light, Jennings vanished, leaving Nero blinking in confusion at the old mage¡¯s abrupt exit. Muttering in annoyance, Nero said, ¡°I never got a chance to ask him about my mage armor¡­ what an asshole.¡± Chapter 238 - Back to basics. Commander Dahl knew he should be feeling lucky. Having survived the emergency tribunal with his position intact was nothing short of a miracle. Had he not already prepared the memory engrams for the investigators, he¡¯d probably be just as doomed as General Branson. He was well aware that there was every possibility that the tribunal may end up executing the man. In fact, he¡¯d heard that three commanders had already been found guilty of violating the knight¡¯s code and summarily dealt with by the grandmaster himself. The grandmaster was nothing if not efficient in his pursuit of his ideal of justice. Yet, here Commander Dahl sat, still commanding Dorchester¡¯s forces against the kobalds, leading the fight in defense of the city. Truth be told, it was looking very likely that he may end up being promoted to general himself by the time the investigation finally gets resolved. Never in his wildest dreams could have predicted such a leap in status. And he wasn¡¯t the only one experiencing an unexpected promotion either. The grandmaster taking a personal interest in the organization of the military had shuffled the entire command staff around. Where politics and connections used to matter, now there was just the grandmaster¡¯s opinion to consider. Hard-working soldiers who¡¯d been overlooked for years were now being given authority over the pencil pushers and politicians who used to be nothing more than a hindrance they had to put up with. Since all of this had been happening, he often wondered what it was about him that the grandmaster approved of. Perhaps it was simply because he did as he ordered, always had. Over the years, he¡¯d become very good at working around the political considerations of the general and the other commanders. He never liked it, but he did it, and he was good at it. Even when he¡¯d been given the strong suggestion from the general¡¯s office to take care of Captain Angleton, he¡¯d done everything in his power to make the man¡¯s death mean something. It was the least he could do for such a dedicated soldier of Dorchester. But, in the end, that was only a small matter in the sea of violations the general was being accused of. Improper use of his authority, numerous incidents of political favoritism, and misappropriation of resources, among many others. The general would be lucky to keep his head by the time the investigators were finished with him. Bursting into the command center, one of his new aides rushed over only to stop at attention. ¡°Sir, we¡¯ve just received a priority request from the keep,¡± he declared firmly. Setting aside his thoughts on the upheaval the army was currently going through, Commander Dahl replied with a grimace, ¡°And what does our esteemed city lord request of us now?¡± Since being more or less promoted to general without the actual title to go along with the position, he¡¯d been receiving all the attention from the nobles that used to be handled by the former General Branson. They rightfully assumed he would eventually be appointed as Dorchester¡¯s newest general, and they were eager to reinstate their political connections with the new head of the army. The self-centered nobility couldn¡¯t care less about his workload, they just wanted to ensure their power base wasn¡¯t affected by the general¡¯s downfall. Before, he¡¯d just been in charge of the fighting. Political concerns along with the supply lines were being handled by the general¡¯s office. But now, he was being inundated with paperwork and meetings that he honestly didn¡¯t have time to deal with. He¡¯d already sent a request for aid to the Knights of Oglivarch¡¯s Dorchester headquarters, and he could only hope that the grandmaster would be kind enough to take pity on him and assign him some help. The aide wisely chose to ignore Commander Dahl¡¯s tone, answering professionally, ¡°Sir, it¡¯s not the city lord¡¯s office that contacted us, it¡¯s the guard force assigned to the dwarven contingent.¡± Commander Dahl, now confused, replied, ¡°Dwarves? Is the guard actually requesting reinforcements, from us?¡± Everyone knew the subtle competition bordering on dislike between Dorchester¡¯s army and its guard. The situation must be pretty serious if the guard was willing to swallow their pride and ask the army for help. The aide shook his head quickly. ¡°No, sir. The ping they sent is regarding our tactical plan for the war with the kobalds going forward. It seems the dwarves requested an update on our force''s current strategy and troop deployment.¡± Raising his eyebrows in surprise, Commander Dahl replied, ¡°Did they say why?¡± The aide, still standing at attention replied seriously, ¡°No, sir. They did not.¡± Commander Dahl rubbed his chin in thought. He¡¯d known that the dwarves would eventually get themselves involved in the war. However, he thought they would wait until they at least fortified their new settlement and brought over more of their citizenry. Knowing that the call was his to make, he didn¡¯t bother requesting authorization from the grandmaster¡¯s office and instead replied, ¡°Very well. Send them the same tactical plan we sent to House Walker. We¡¯re already going to have to coordinate with their private force, so it shouldn¡¯t be a problem to include whatever troops the dwarves want to provide us as well. Be sure to include the schedule for the meeting we¡¯re having with House Walker. We¡¯ll handle them both at the same time and hopefully, they will agree to fight together. The last thing we need is TWO forces on the field that I have little to no control over.¡± The aide nodded once in understanding, before saluting with a fist to his chest and replying, ¡°Yes, sir. I¡¯ll send it out right away.¡± Smirking in amusement at the eager young aide¡¯s back as the man rushed away, Commander Dahl took a moment to recall how long it had been since he had been an eager young aide trying to impress his superior. Taking a deep breath, he forced the pointless thought away and mentally returned to focusing on his duty. As he had been for the past few hours, he filtered through the paperwork he had waiting for him, all the while debating with himself whether or not he was lucky to have found himself in this arguably enviable position. Only time would tell he supposed. ¡ª-- It took Nero barely 20 minutes before he got fed up with the fact that he was sitting in a library¡­ not reading the books. The ease of finding what he was looking for through the estate¡¯s Thought Hub was overwhelmingly obvious now that he¡¯d been told it was possible. He had no reason to physically find anything, so he had no reason to stick around. When he stood up from the table, he looked down at the trays now half filled with finger sandwiches along with the used coffee cup the archmage had left behind. Looking around awkwardly, he wasn¡¯t sure if he should clean up after himself. ¡®I shouldn¡¯t¡­ right? Am I being an asshole assuming that servants will take care of it?¡¯ he wondered. Before he could come to a decision, the doors to the library opened. Ms. Davis reappeared with the same two servants from before. In no time at all, she walked up and asked, ¡°Are you finished with your sandwiches, my lord?¡± Nero felt uncomfortable standing in front of her in his armor, seeing as she was calmly standing at attention with her hands folded in front of her waist like a picture of motherly elegance. Behind her, the servants were busily cleaning up the table, combining the various finger sandwiches onto a single tray and replacing the cooling coffee pitcher with a fresh one. Trying to sound in control of the situation, Nero replied, ¡°Yes, I¡¯m done eating. Thank you. The sandwiches were great.¡± Nodding politely as she gestured toward the shelves, Ms. Davis asked, ¡°Do you need help finding anything, my lord?¡±Unauthorized usage: this tale is on Amazon without the author''s consent. Report any sightings. Nero shook his head quickly in denial, replying, ¡°No, I¡¯m good. I¡¯ll just use the copies on the Thought Hub. Um¡­ I think I¡¯ll just head back to my room for now.¡± ¡°Very good, my lord. Would you like any refreshments brought over while we walk?¡± she asked while turning on her heel and gesturing toward the door with a slight bow, indicating that he should lead the way. Luckily, Nero had already figured out how to use the estate¡¯s Thought Hub to find directions, so he started off toward the door before immediately pausing and looking over his shoulder. The two servants whose names he hadn¡¯t bothered to look up were now collecting the coffee pot they just brought in along with the trays and such from before, he said, ¡°You guys can bring the coffee I guess.¡± Holding up the coffee cup in his hand, he added, ¡°I¡¯m still working on this one. Thanks for looking out, I guess.¡± Walking quickly toward the door, Nero did his best to ignore what was going on behind him. There weren¡¯t many things that could make him feel awkward, but being waited on by fancy people was one of them. At least on the rare occasions he¡¯d gone to an upscale restaurant back home he could make himself feel less awkward by tipping the service staff. Here was stuck just standing there like an idiot while watching them work. As he made his way through the incredibly well-appointed hallways toward his room, he did his best to ignore the few servants who bowed to him as he walked by. Right on his tail, he could feel Ms. Davis watching him through his essence field. She maintained a distance of a few paces, keeping herself nearby¡­ most likely in case he needed anything. Rather than complain about it, or even bring it up at all, he just sighed and tried to focus on where he was going. He still didn¡¯t feel like this huge estate was his, and he¡¯d never in his life felt so much like an imposter as he did at this moment. He honestly couldn¡¯t wait to get back out in the field and away from all the fuss. That¡¯s where he felt most comfortable. Which was odd, because before he arrived here, he¡¯d never been any type of outdoorsman. But now, he longed for the simplicity of battle and the adrenaline rush that came with it. Eventually making his way back to his rooms, Nero took advantage of one of the many couches and settled in for a long session of playing with his link. According to the pings he¡¯s been receiving from Cathleen and Vera, tomorrow he and House Walker¡¯s leadership were scheduled to meet with the army to decide where they would be deploying. He did his best to skim the pings for what was important because most of what he was reading was about how poorly he handled the nobles and what possible repercussions he might face in the future. He felt like everybody he knew had decided to send him a message giving him shit about how he¡¯d handled the situation. Even Knight Angleton made a point of stating that tactically it wasn¡¯t wise to publicly be at odds with the council of leadership. While he tried to ignore Ms. Davis watching over him while he futzed with his link, he couldn¡¯t help but chuckle at Cathleen¡¯s repeated warnings about not making any hasty decisions until they received the updated intelligence concerning the status of the war. Apparently, the woman had no faith in his ability to think things through before acting. Not that he could blame her¡­ that wasn¡¯t exactly his strong suit. He knew he wasn¡¯t much of a planner. Regardless, everything he was reading from them was a tomorrow problem. Therefore he had no trouble ignoring it. Instead, he sank happily into the comfy couch and let his mind sink into the library section of the estate¡¯s Thought Hub. Just like he thought it would, it worked similarly to the city¡¯s Thought Hub and he felt his intentions guiding his search. Instead of seeing a long list of titles and summaries, he was guided to several books covering the subject of essence shields. They were even conveniently sorted into difficulty levels and offered suggestions as to where he should start. ¡®Screw Google, this is how the internet was meant to be searched,¡¯ he thought to himself with a pleased smile on his face. In no time at all, he let himself get absorbed in the reading he was doing, completely losing track of his body. While he could still sense the warm cup of coffee he was holding in his hand, the sensation felt muted. Almost all of his attention was on the sea of information he found himself in. When he opened a book, it wasn¡¯t so much a text as it was a directed translation he was getting beamed directly into his mind. It was almost like having the ¡®meaning¡¯ of what the writer had wanted to pass on being read for him by a voice in his head. He¡¯d messed around with books on tape before, but this was on a whole ¡®nother level. Unfortunately, the process wasn¡¯t all that much faster than reading, and it didn¡¯t magically allow him to understand what the book was trying to tell him. The information wasn¡¯t nearly as digestible as the pings he received from Vera and the others, and he had no idea why. Rather than get sidetracked by looking up why that was, he instead stuck to the plan and tried to find out what he¡¯d done to create the ¡®super mage armor¡¯ that had basically saved his life. The first book he looked at was ¡®Essence Shields Essential Functions¡¯ by a woman named Bernice Holdenfield. It covered the basics of what Nick and Jennings had already taught him, along with several tips and tricks to make learning how to condense personal essence easier. From what he could tell, he was mostly doing that part well enough already. Although, there were a few things that he didn¡¯t understand and references that he hadn¡¯t heard before. All in all, though, it was basically a review of what he already knew. However, there was one section he had to repeatedly go over, as the entire concept it was trying to teach him made no sense whatsoever. Somehow, it was supposed to guide the reader into learning how to constantly infuse more essence into their personal ¡®domain¡¯ they created along their body. While the terms the author was using made sense, Nero just couldn¡¯t understand what she was trying to say. He¡¯d have to remember to ask Nick about it later. One thing that did stand out was the idea that an essence shield was not actually a ¡®shield¡¯ in the way he assumed it was when he¡¯d first been taught how to make one. Of course, he¡¯d already figured that part out, but seeing it written out so matter-of-factly was kind of annoying. It was just one more example of how Jennings sucked at teaching, and further reinforced his belief that all classes were stupid. The term ¡®essence shield¡¯ was created to imply a buffer of personal essence between a person and the free-floating essence that exists in the ether all around them. The ¡®shield¡¯ part came when the shield was given a defensive property. That of course led to several incredibly interesting chapters about what an essence shield could potentially be used for. According to the author, there were multiple techniques to add functionality to the personal essence a person collected. If Nero was reading it correctly, a person could add air filtration, optical and thermal camouflage, temperature regulation, elemental protection, and even the ability to fly! While the book didn¡¯t cover the specifics beyond how one might go about adding a spell function to the essence shield, the subject served as an introduction to the primary ability of defense which was universally accepted as the first and most important function a mage needed to know how to add. Nero, having already learned how to imbue an actual ¡®shield¡¯ to his essence shield, mentally mocked the lazy terminology that required translation magic to understand the distinction. He did however find the in-depth description of the proper way to do it helpful, and surprisingly riveting. Yet, for all the positives about the book, at no point in time did it mention an effect like he¡¯d accidentally created when he was wrecking the kobald¡¯s. The mage armor he¡¯d created had not required his attention, and it was practically invulnerable. What the book was teaching wasn¡¯t anything like that. Hours passed as he worked his way through the book, the coffee cup in his hand having gotten cold long ago. He was so engrossed in his reading that he lost track of time. He was about to move on to the next book in the reading list the Thought Hub had provided him, but he felt his shoulder being gently shaken. Blinking a few times to come out of his fugue, he looked up to see the calm and understanding face of Ms. Davis staring down at him. ¡°My lord, I¡¯ve been told you prefer to sleep at least 10 hours a day when you are able. If you¡¯d like to head to bed now, you will be able to have time in the morning for breakfast before your meeting at the army command center,¡± she said in a voice that almost sounded motherly. Nero, awkwardly placing the cold coffee on the table in front of him, groaned in annoyance at how tight all of his muscles felt. He hadn¡¯t realized how long he¡¯d been sitting there like a statue. As he stood up and stretched, he paused in surprise as he realized that he¡¯d just sat down and read an entire book from cover to cover. And not a little book like a pamphlet, or a kid''s book¡­ a real book¡­ like a textbook. Grinning widely, he looked up at Ms. Davis and asked, ¡°How isn¡¯t everybody a genius here? I feel like I¡¯ve just experienced an entire class dedicated to Essence Shield functionality in a few hours. How freaking cool is that?!?¡± Smiling patiently, Ms. Davis replied, ¡°Very cool, my lord. Would you like to keep reading, or do you wish to retire for the evening?¡± Nero¡¯s happiness faltered under her professional yet matronly tone. ¡°Um, sure. You can take off for the night. I¡¯ll be heading to bed. I¡¯ve got an early morning tomorrow I guess, and I need to allow enough time before the meeting for Vera to chew my ass out over my spat with the nobles,¡± he said trying to add some levity to the situation. Nodding amicably, Ms. Davis replied, ¡°Of course, my lord. I¡¯ll come wake you at five. That should give you an hour for breakfast and your morning ablutions.¡± Without another word, she walked off toward the door. Nero¡¯s attention snapped to the table where the coffee pot and his cup were, seeing them now inexplicably absent. Narrowing his eyes at the door she gently closed behind her, he muttered, ¡°Now, how in the hell did she do that?¡± Chapter 239 - Mistakes were made. Grandmaster Lancel was well aware of how much of a disruption his actions were to the army¡¯s ability to function. However, he knew it needed to be done. For too long he¡¯d allowed things to get out of hand. With the war with the kobalds and the threat of the density shift, he could no longer turn a blind eye. Politics and personal interest had infested his beloved order, and he would no longer stand for it. Waving away the hologram displaying the investigators'' most recent efforts to audit the army¡¯s command staff, he said, ¡°I agree. Have the commanders, captains, and sergeants in question brought in? If any of them hesitate to cooperate with you, immediately put them on administrative leave and contact the Tower of Law. I¡¯ve arranged for a force of guards to aid you in bringing them in quickly.¡± One of the investigators asked somewhat nervously, ¡°Grandmaster, are you sure it¡¯s necessary to involve the guard? The army should be able to handle this internally.¡± Snorting in annoyance, the grandmaster¡¯s gigantic frame turned to address the investigator. ¡°That¡¯s the point. We can no longer treat ourselves as something outside the city¡¯s control. Our thoughts that we are somehow better than those we protect have led us to where we are, and we need to address that failure in logic. And we need to do it as soon as possible. Too many threats are outside our walls for us to continue with this type of foolishness.¡± The investigators all bowed in understanding before hurrying away to complete his orders. If there was one thing he knew, it was how to leverage his size and reputation for his desired effect. He was a living legend to these young people, many of them barely out of their first century. While every one of them may be considered a talent and had a long life ahead of them, he very rarely was able to take them seriously. Turning away from his desk, the grandmaster walked over to the window and stared out over the city that he¡¯d dedicated his life to protecting. When he¡¯d first taken up the position of grandmaster, he¡¯d known it would be difficult to act as the figurehead and moral compass of the local order. Only in the rarest of circumstances would the law allow him to act directly. His level and personal power were just too disproportionate when compared to the average citizen. In truth, his purpose was not to fight, but to build a force that could protect the citizenry. It was a noble and thankless task, but one he had been willing to give his all to. But, over time, he¡¯d retreated too far into that mindset of distance. Just because he couldn¡¯t raise his sword against Dorchester¡¯s enemies didn¡¯t mean that he couldn¡¯t contribute. He could do more than train the recruits and oversee the nominations. When he first built up the order here, he¡¯d been involved. Now, he couldn¡¯t help but look back and wonder why he¡¯d ever stopped paying close attention to the military juggernaut he¡¯d built with his own two hands. Shaking away the guilt and shame of having failed in his duty, he returned to his desk to continue his work. Reopening the holograms, he skillfully went through the various updates and evaluations he¡¯d ordered to be done. He could tell that the army¡¯s efficiency was currently abysmal, and he needed to personally take a hand in fixing what his reforms had broken. Sending out orders for transfers, he did what he could to alleviate the pressure Commander Dahl was currently facing. While he couldn¡¯t stop the nobles from contacting the man, he could put up barriers between them. More sub-commanders and aides to handle the logistics behind the scenes, and skilled resource managers to facilitate supply purchases. Receiving an alert from his link, he noticed that it was almost time for the meeting between House Walker, the dwarves, and the command staff. It was a meeting he fully intended to oversee as both the situation with the dwarves and the kingdom¡¯s newest unique, Lord Walker, were matters he was deeply interested in. Lord Walker in particular was a young man whom he found most interesting. Barely awakened, and already stirring up the hearts and minds of the city. He¡¯d watched the young man¡¯s battles through memory engrams of soldiers who¡¯d been nearby, and he could tell that he was something special. While not especially skilled in either magic or swordsmanship, he was incredibly effective. It had been amusing to watch the young lord spectacularly fail to join a simple shielding spell while later being able to heal and resuscitate soldiers as though his center were endless. His skills were nothing short of a contradiction that defied accepted logic. It was no wonder that evaluators had been dispatched by the Royal Academy to watch over him. And that spell Lord Walker used to decimate the kobalds at the end of the battle, he¡¯d never in his long life seen anything like it. Especially not from someone so young and so inexperienced. The effect, while not as widespread as what the Populators had accomplished, reminded him of the fighting during the rebellion. Lord Walker truly was an interesting young man. That was not even considering his natural ability to bolster morale and inspire confidence among the troops. Despite being busy, the grandmaster had made sure to free up some time to experience the memories of the young man¡¯s multiple speeches to his followers, trying to understand Lord Walker¡¯s mind. But, just like the young lord¡¯s contradictory skill levels, and surprising successes, it was difficult for him to figure out what kind of man the young lord truly was. From what the grandmaster could tell, the young lord was both selfish and compassionate in equal measure. He disdained authority but demanded respect. He called himself an adventurer and invited people to follow him along his path, all the while emphasizing that they should primarily look out for themselves. The underlying theme of working together to survive and flourish was never explicitly stated but wove itself into everything he said. It reminded him of the foundations of the kingdom¡­ working together for personal benefit. He had to admit, he was looking forward to seeing what the young man was capable of in the coming war. At the very least, it should prove to be exciting to watch. After taking a moment to make sure his armor and gear were in place, he strode toward the door to make his way to the command center. It was rare for him to be this excited for a meeting. ¡ª-- After summarily deciding not to think about Ms. Davis, his upcoming brow-beating by Cathleen and Vera, and everything else that should be emotionally weighing him down, Nero stretched his arms out wide and released the tension his body had accumulated from his hours of sitting. Turning away from the door, he walked further into his massive bedroom, once again marveling at how the former owner had chosen to decorate it. There were too many couches and cushy seats, too many coffee and end tables, and too many ¡®little¡¯ areas for groups of people to gather and relax. That¡¯s not even considering the ridiculously large bed raised up in the center of the room on a pedestal. ¡®There is absolutely no reason for a bed to require stairs,¡¯ he thought to himself with a smile, shaking his head at the absurdity of the situation he found himself in. Walking toward the closest couch cluster to his bed, he pulled the strap of his ever-present magic satchel off his shoulder, tossing it carelessly onto the couch he¡¯d chosen to use as his clothes hamper. He then began stripping off his armor to get ready for bed. While doing so, he mentally congratulated himself for his maturity in going to bed early. While he shouldn¡¯t have been surprised that Vera or Nick had alerted his staff to his preference for sleeping more than the culturally accepted 4 to 6 hours, he did find Ms. Davis¡¯ lack of questioning the habit endearing. She really was some sort of ¡®super-nanny¡¯. Besides, he shouldn¡¯t feel bad about his desire for a good night''s sleep. It was them who the ones who were crazy. What kind of society limits their sleep to only the bare minimum? They have 30-hour days, and they prefer to take advantage of the extra time by getting more work done. It was insane. As far as he was concerned, no amount of stars or essence infusions could make up for that kind of loss of sleep. Despite the superhuman nature of their bodies, they were still human, and humans required sleep. Good, healthy, thoroughly enjoyable sleep. And he was a genius for recognizing that. Hitting his bathroom before bed, he decided to take advantage of the amenities and enjoy a shower in the ¡®rain-room¡¯. While continuing to think about how successful he was at ¡®adulting¡¯, he luxuriated in the clean feeling of being under the warm water. He even took the time to utilize all the little soaps, shampoos, conditioners, and oils that were arranged along the little nooks on the walls. None of them were labeled, so he had to do some experimenting, but eventually he figured it out. By the time he was done his fingers were all ¡®pruney¡¯, but he smelled wonderfully¡­ like sandalwood and musk¡­ probably. He wasn¡¯t exactly sure what sandalwood or musk actually smelled like, but he was sure that the scents were manly. Whoever had stocked the place definitely took his gender into account and made sure that none of the toiletries smelled like flowers. Their professionalism earned Nero¡¯s seal of approval, demonstrated by double finger guns and a grin at the soap-filled shelf. When he was finished handling all of his business in the bathroom, he returned to the bedroom with a towel wrapped around his waist and another over his shoulders. Glancing down at the couch he¡¯d filled with his discarded armor, he bent down and picked his link back up. Looking curiously at the device, he muttered, ¡°Might not be a bad idea to see what the news has to say about the dwarves and stuff.¡± Draping his wet towels over the edge of the coffee table to dry, he pulled out some sleepwear he¡¯d ¡®appropriated¡¯ from his time at the Center. While he preferred sleeping in the nude, the last thing he wanted to deal with in the morning was a repeat of Ms. Davis seeing him getting out of bed in the buff. Once he was dressed and ready for bed, he climbed up the stairs and wiggled his way onto his disturbingly large mattress. Successfully ensconced under the covers, he sighed heavily and reached out to the link he¡¯d placed under his pillow. Choosing to bypass the estate¡¯s Thought Hub, he connected with the city¡¯s. Like before, it was filled with a plethora of information in text form. He sent his mind deeper into the connection, letting his desire for information guide his search. He arbitrarily picked a few posts to watch that seemed interesting, learning about how the press releases for the dwarves arrival were being handled and how the common Joe on the street seemed to feel about their new guests. He was happy to see that there wasn¡¯t any sign of racism or outrage, if anything there was some polite interest and hope for collaboration. There were numerous educational videos developed by people who wanted to explore the differences between humans and dwarves, along with historical programs describing the two species'' interactions over the millennia. Nero found tons of interesting things to explore and enjoyed his time on the Thought Hub immensely.This book''s true home is on another platform. Check it out there for the real experience. He found himself wondering more and more about how they measured time here and subsequently found himself watching some educational programs about how they estimated the date. To him, he found it eerily similar to what he was used to, but also completely different. They reset the starting date of their calendar whenever a new king came to power, and everything beforehand became less-than-firm in the records. So, by today¡¯s date, he could tell that the current King had been in power for 643 years. With a little more searching, he found the king was 853 years old, and obviously most likely pretty powerful. He found the way they labeled their dates rather straightforward. First came the day, then the month, and then the year. After which, they¡¯ll add another ¡®.¡¯ then how many years back they want to describe. For example, today¡¯s date is 6.4.643 and is the current measure of the ¡®now¡¯. Every year before 643 is described by adding another ¡®.¡¯ then how many years back the person describing that point of time wants to portray. So, two thousand years ago would be 6.4.643.2000. Even the scholarly types never got more accurate than that. He¡¯d already had the concept of their wonky time measurements sort of explained to him, so he wasn¡¯t all that surprised to see their system being so lax on the details. He did however end up watching a rather intense lecture on temporal estimation and change by some uptight woman from the local center research department. She sounded like she knew what she was talking about, so he ended up taking most of what she said as the truth. While he couldn¡¯t wholly accept the idea that what happened in the past was not exactly set in stone, he could sort of understand how it could happen with all of reality being made up of essence, which he knew was pretty malleable. After some time floating through the information superhighway, he felt his thoughts getting fuzzy. The sensation had him thinking about getting some Mountain Dew from the fridge. Suddenly ripping his mind away from the video on ¡®archaeological sites that don¡¯t correspond to accepted history¡¯, he sat up in bed with a shocked look on his face. ¡®What the hell! Did I just waste half of my night doomscrolling the local internet? Son of a bitch!¡¯ he mentally chided himself. Checking the mental world clock in his head, he realized if he went to sleep right now, he¡¯d only be getting 5 hours of sleep. Rubbing his hands over his tired eyes, he mumbled, ¡°I can NOT fall back into the habit of playing with my phone before bed.¡± Pulling his link out from under his pillow, he tossed it in the general direction of his clothes couch. He¡¯d deal with it in the morning. Angrily punching his pillow a few times to fluff it up, he curled up in a ball and forced himself to go to sleep. His mind still felt a little tired from all the time he¡¯d spent on his link, and he couldn¡¯t stop thinking about how he seemed to be able to be on his much longer than someone his level should. ¡®Just another way in which I¡¯m awesome, and probably another subject Jennings will end up using to rip apart my understanding of reality,¡¯ he thought to himself, before huffing in annoyance and trying to clear his mind. Eventually, he did get to sleep and luckily didn¡¯t suffer any of the weird delving dreams he¡¯d been having lately. Either his mind had been too tired to send itself out on an exploratory mission of the ether, or he¡¯d just been lucky. Regardless, morning came, and with it came Ms. Davis. Feeling his shoulder gently shaken, Nero woke up to see her standing over the edge of his bed with that polite and motherly smile she always wore. ¡°Good morning, my lord. Ms. Averett, Lord and Lady Verena, and Knight Angleton are awaiting your presence in parlor 12,¡± she said professionally. Blinking away the last of his sleep, Nero tried to mentally catch up with what she was saying. ¡®Why did they label everything with numbers? It was like a society suffering from Asperger¡¯s syndrome,¡¯ he thought to himself in annoyance. Muttering with a gruff and scratchy voice, he said, ¡°Alright, I¡¯ll be ready in a minute.¡± Forcing himself out of bed, he stumbled past her to the bathroom. He needed coffee¡­ badly. After taking care of his business, he returned to the bedroom to find Ms. Davis standing still standing there with her hands folded in front of her and with that same smile on her face. His armor had been neatly laid out on the table nearby and the towels were nowhere to be found. Also on the table were his satchel and his link, everything laid out as if it were on display. Realizing that he hadn¡¯t thought through having to get changed, he looked up at her and said, ¡°Um¡­ you can just wait outside. I¡¯ll be right there.¡± After giving him a quick bow, she left the room without a word. Quickly getting dressed, Nero took the time to cast a cleaning spell over his armor and clothing. He wasn¡¯t sure if most people rotated the clothes they wore under their armor, but he didn¡¯t have enough spare clothes to worry about it at the moment. Rushing toward the door, he took one last look at his ridiculous bedroom and shook his head at the fact that he was now living here. Seeing Ms. Davis patiently waiting for him, he gestured for her to lead the way. As they walked, she didn¡¯t offer any conversation, seemingly happy to let him wake up at his own pace. Nero was grateful for the consideration, and once again mentally confirmed her status as his super-nanny. In no time at all, he found himself sitting at a large breakfast table with the people Ms. Davis had told him were waiting for him. Pouring himself a cup of gloriously hot coffee, he muttered, ¡°Good morning everybody. I hear we have a meeting with brass to decide where we¡¯ll be deploying. Isn¡¯t Ms. Keening supposed to be coming with us?¡± Vera immediately took control of the conversation. ¡°She¡¯ll be there at the meeting. Right now we need to discuss the repercussions of you brusquely dismissing the nobility from your halls after the ceremony. Many houses are expressing their dissatisfaction with your unwarranted hostility.¡± Seeing the rest of the table nodding along with her, Nero frowned in annoyance. ¡°So what? The point was to get the dwarves off our back and onto theirs. Mission accomplished.¡± Cathleen set down her cup of juice and said, ¡°It¡¯s not that simple. While House Walker is outside of the local political structure, you do have ties here. Your actions and how you interact with the nobility may spell doom for House Verena and your local assets. If the houses choose to, they can economically crush us, and after the restrictions on noble wars are lifted they could wipe us out¡­ well, House Verena that is.¡± Raising his eyebrows in surprise, he replied, ¡°I thought the whole thing with me being a unique meant that I wasn¡¯t in danger of any of that?¡± Nick chimed in, ¡°YOU are not. Your house is not. However, whatever local powerbase you build IS. If you continue to act at odds with the local nobility, you¡¯ll find that House Walker¡¯s power here will be extremely limited. And on a personal note, I hope you consider what that will mean for Vera and me, along with all the people here in Dorchester who have chosen to follow you.¡± Now completely awake, Nero snatched up a Danish from the table and demanded with a scowl, ¡°OK. So what now? Should I make some sort of public apology or something? Is there a way to build up my political connections to make our position stronger?¡± Before anyone could respond, he threw the Danish onto the plate in front of him and dramatically sighed. ¡°Look, I¡¯m sorry. I didn¡¯t know it would be that big of a deal. I didn¡¯t mean to make trouble for any of you. You¡¯re all my closest allies and friends here. If you need anything, you just have to ask. If you want me to meet with every noble in Dorchester and beg them to forgive me, I will. You guys know what needs to be done, and I¡¯m more than willing to follow whatever you recommend.¡± Vera, surprised to see Nero acting so reasonably, replied, ¡°Well, an apology at this point is not necessary. You did agree to cooperate with the council of leadership over the issue of the mountain¡¯s providence. As long as we handle the information releases well, I think on that front we¡¯ll be fine. The important thing is that going forward you treat the nobility with the respect they deserve. As a new lord, you¡¯re expected to have some difficulty adjusting, so your actions may be accepted as a matter of your youth and ignorance.¡± Knight Angleton added, ¡°Considering that they won¡¯t be able to act against House Verena directly until the density shift passes, we have some time to prepare.¡± Vera focused on Nero with an intense look and said, ¡°I¡¯ll be decreasing how much support House Verena is giving to House Walker. Raising our local forces will be our focus. You¡¯ll have to make do with what I¡¯m able to provide.¡± Nero, not having any idea of his current finances, simply asked, ¡°Is House Walker in any danger of not having enough money to pay our current bills?¡± Cathleen replied, ¡°No, we¡¯ll still be running at a slight profit. But any further growth will have to wait for now.¡± Nero shrugged, perfectly fine with that. The house had already grown far more than he was comfortable with. ¡°So, just to be clear. I don¡¯t have to make a public apology for kicking those assholes out or anything? You guys are handling it?¡± Vera bit back a slight snort of amusement. ¡°Yes, my lord. We¡¯re handling it. We¡¯ll let you know if you need to do anything.¡± Nero nodded, happy to have cleverly dodged a haranguing by pretending to take responsibility for his actions and proactively admitting his mistakes. It was always a good idea to profess shame and metaphorically show his belly to women who were pissed¡­ arguing would lead to nothing but delaying the inevitable apology. And it didn¡¯t just work on women, it worked on anyone in authority. He¡¯d learned the valuable technique as a child, and it had served him very well in all manner of confrontations. Picking his Danish back up and taking a bite, he asked with his mouth full, ¡°So, now that the political shenanigans are handled, let¡¯s talk about our upcoming fight with the kobalds. We¡¯re meeting with army command to determine where we¡¯re going to be fighting, right? So, how many troops do we have now, and when can we head into the mountain?¡± Cathleen replied first, sounding just as eager to get back to the fighting as he was. ¡°We first have to determine what kind of support we¡¯ll be getting from the army now that the general has been removed from his position. Our meeting will be with Commander Dahl and his staff. He¡¯s been leading the fight against the kobalds from the start, and he¡¯ll be the one we¡¯ll be working with.¡± Vera added in a serious tone, ¡°Not just him. I¡¯ve been alerted to the fact that the dwarves have requested to join our meeting. While I don¡¯t know why, I do know that dwarves are known to revel in war. They¡¯ll likely be providing their own forces for the upcoming assault on the mountain city.¡± Nero waved a hand dismissively. ¡°The more the merrier. But what happened to the general? You said he was removed from his position?¡± Knight Angleton replied with a grim smile, ¡°Yes. The grandmaster of the Knights of Oglivarch personally charged him with several counts of dereliction of duty among other things. His friends in the nobility have already abandoned him, and he¡¯ll be lucky to keep his head.¡± Nero shrugged and replied, ¡°Huh. Well, it couldn¡¯t have happened to a nicer guy. Maybe in his next life, he won¡¯t be such an asshole.¡± Nick leaned over the table and said in annoyance, ¡°Nero, that¡¯s not how it works. After a person dies their mind is sent-¡± Nero interrupted him with a thrown Danish, hitting him squarely in the face with the pastry. ¡°Nick! What have I told you about lectures before I¡¯ve finished my breakfast!?!¡± Nick, calmly wiping the crumbs from his face and placing the squashed Danish off to the side replied with a smirk, ¡°No lectures that can ruin your concept of reality until you¡¯ve finished your morning coffee.¡± Nero nodded happily, shooting Nick a finger gun. ¡°That¡¯s right. Besides, it¡¯s just a saying. Nobody expects the guy to actually learn anything from his mistakes. That would be just crazy. Now, tell me what I need to know about the meeting we¡¯re going to. As a contracted mercenary leader, I don¡¯t want to look like an idiot in front of my new boss.¡± Vera, sitting there with a slight smile on her face began, ¡°Well, Commander Dahl has been with the army for over 130 years. He got his start serving¡­¡± As she went on and on about the who¡¯s who in the army and what they¡¯d likely be discussing during the meeting, Nero enjoyed his breakfast while listening closely. He¡¯d soon be back in the thick of things, and he didn¡¯t want to leave a political mess for Vera and whoever was staying topside to clean up¡­ at least not another one. Chapter 240 - Um, how many? It had been a while since Evaluator Quincy felt this tired. Getting a few hours of sleep here or there was usually enough to stave off any symptoms of fatigue. Yet, over the past few days, he¡¯d been too busy to spare even an hour for rest. There was simply too much for him to oversee. Since he and the other evaluators submitted their final reports to the Royal Academy and put in their termination papers, they¡¯d been focusing all of their energies on ensuring their new lord¡¯s path was wide and clear. And as the team leader, he was at the center of everything they were doing. He had to keep awake to maintain the connections they¡¯d set up as the team bounced around Dorchester like invisible hands of fate, subtly guiding things toward a beneficial outcome. Having honed their craft in cities like the capital, what they were doing here in Dorchester was practically child¡¯s play. After working together with the grandmaster and the archmage to ensure the charges of war crimes against Lord Walker were thoroughly debunked, he¡¯d split up his team for individual missions that would prove invaluable in the coming days. Having sussed out that the archmage had a personal interest in Lord Walker beyond simply studying him, he and his team felt it was in their best interests to work as quickly and quietly as possible. He¡¯d dispatched Idrius and Vaxas to collect information on the nobles while focusing on developing intermediaries who could influence the council of leadership. They¡¯d already made inroads into Houses Newling, York, and Voltan. While money wasn¡¯t as much use for gaining a spy''s allegiance in a small city like this, the people here valued relationships much more than he and his team were used to. All it took to bring people around was a little advice, some information, and a few promised favors. Idrius even managed to quietly discover one of the noble house¡¯s involvement with a planar cult. She¡¯d passed on the information discreetly to the Tower of Law, ensuring the elimination of that future threat. Mortem had been sent to develop contacts within the local Tower of Magic. They needed to know what the archmage was up to, and if his plans were of any danger to their new lord. Mortem had already discovered that the archmage¡¯s personal aide, the defacto court mage, Mage-Adept Newbanks, was pursuing her own agenda¡­ possibly at the behest of someone outside Dorchester. Quincy had made sure to have Mortem keep a close eye on her. She was a relatively experienced mage, one who was too high level for a place like Dorchester, which made the man¡¯s task extremely challenging. Lastly, there was Yarborrow, who had been given the most difficult duty. Quincy had sent her to scout the kobalds. She was particularly skilled in visual and ethereal deception and had been working her way through the first several floors of the mountain city, reporting every hour on what she¡¯d discovered. So far, she¡¯d not found anything that the local army and his new lord couldn¡¯t handle, but he still felt like they were missing something. He and his team already knew the true scale of what Dorchester was facing, but considering how woefully unprepared the local Tower of Magic was, he didn¡¯t want to rely on the information he¡¯d acquired while in the capital. While reminding her to be careful, he¡¯d asked her to push deeper¡­ at least getting close enough to verify that the scry-piercing technique they were using to counteract the kobalds illusions was working as intended. He really didn¡¯t like the fact that what Lord Walker had described from his sleep delving wasn¡¯t at all like what they were seeing. Meanwhile, while they were all out performing their tasks, he¡¯d been attempting to keep a close eye on Lord Walker. It had become particularly difficult to maintain his stealth around the young lord. He found it both impressive and infuriating how quickly Lord Walker had picked up the trick of detecting abnormalities in the ether. He¡¯d ended up having to resort to short-distance scrying to remain undetected. Which was why he was now hiding in a closet, wrapped in every essence shielding technique he knew. Lord Walker¡¯s talent was becoming increasingly difficult to compensate for. It wasn¡¯t just Lord Walker¡¯s ability to sense essence flows that was improving, it was also his ability to manipulate his own presence in the ether. He¡¯d seen the young man pick up voice amplification on the fly, and unconsciously manipulate his aura like he¡¯d been doing it for decades. During his little speech at the oath-giving ceremony, Lord Walker infused his essence field with his emotions with skill and precision, performing the aura technique at a level he doubted anyone in attendance even noticed. Rubbing his palms over his eyes, he waited patiently for Lord Walker to arrive at the breakfast table. There was no point wasting his time thinking about any of his observations right now. If everything went according to plan, he¡¯d be able to get some meditation in tonight, allowing him to review everything he¡¯d learned. For now, he just had to keep his attention focused and make sure nothing went wrong. He¡¯d already spent all of last night coordinating with Idrius and Vaxas to mitigate the issue with the dwarves and the nobles. Despite their successes, he was still worried that the nobles might end up trying to influence House Walker¡¯s deployment against the kobalds. He needed to ensure that the plans they¡¯d set in motion weren¡¯t interfered with. Perking up at the arrival of Lord Walker, he listened closely as the expected issue of the conflict with the nobles was brought up. Once again he marveled at the fact that this little city had someone like Lady Verena here. Someone of her pedigree should be in one of the larger cities, building a house that matters. He could only wonder if fate had put her here to rise during the current crises. In twenty years, if Dorchester survives the density shift intact, it very well may no longer be considered a low-level city. At one point in time, it was a city on the rise, and with people like Lady Verena here, it may end up being one again. Watching closely, he was shocked to see that Lord Walker was already so skilled in the emotional manipulation of his essence field. If he hadn¡¯t been paying such close attention, he would have actually believed that the young lord felt guilty for having rudely ejected the nobles from his property. Even a relatively skilled mage like Lord Verena fell for the young man¡¯s subtle trick. In actuality, he could tell that Lord Walker found the situation humorous. Instead of feeling guilty, he was feeling proud of himself for taking advantage of the situation so he could kick everyone out and end the party early. Standing alone in the closet he was using to hide, he muttered, ¡°You really are something special, aren¡¯t you, little lord¡­¡± ¡ª-- The exterior of the Walker estate was just as imposing and garish as Nero remembered it to be. From the impeccably landscaped grounds to the sheer size of the interconnected structures, it all came together to give off a feeling of being in a fantasy palace that could only exist in a world with magic. Looking over his shoulder at the retreating front doors, he thought to himself, ¡®I really need to wrap my head around the fact that I own this place. Although, I¡¯ll probably end up moving out before I get to that point.¡¯ Turning his back on the sight, he returned his attention to the conversation going on around him. They were currently discussing the upcoming meeting and what each of them should be on the lookout for. As they were meeting with army command for the purposes of defining House Walker¡¯s role in the upcoming assault on the mountain city, Cathleen would be taking the lead. Knight Angleton would be there to offer any support or explanations if she needed them, while Vera and Nick were coming along due to the fact that they¡¯d be lending some of House Verena¡¯s troops to the assault force. It was Nero¡¯s understanding that many people who had initially wanted to join House Walker had instead joined House Verena when they heard that he had no intention of staying long-term in Dorchester. For those interested in aligning themselves with him, but not ¡®following¡¯ him, it was seen as a perfect compromise. They¡¯ll be able to head into battle with him, but not give up their lives to follow him around on his future adventures. As the group stepped up to the gazebo housing the estate''s astra-teleportation platform, Nero idly wondered how many essence crystals it cost to use this as the primary method of ingress and egress to his estate. To him, it seemed wasteful on the level of rich assholes using private planes to have dinner at their favorite restaurant. Keeping his mouth shut, he let them continue to natter on about their plans and what kind of deployment conditions they¡¯d likely be offered. He understood everything they were saying, but honestly couldn¡¯t fathom what they were so worried about. By the time they were in a large carriage on the way to the command building, he¡¯d reached the end of his patience. ¡°Enough! There is no point guessing what¡¯s going to happen. It doesn¡¯t matter where they want us to deploy, or who they want us to deploy with. Whether it''s the 143rd or the 207th, or if it¡¯s toward the upper levels or the lower, it¡¯s all the same. We¡¯re going to be fighting kobalds in tunnels. Who cares who we¡¯re fighting alongside? What does it matter?¡± he interjected harshly, fed up with their incessant obsession with the details. Cathleen was the first one to recover from her surprise at Nero¡¯s outburst. ¡°It matters because many of the noble houses still hold influence over the army¡¯s commanders. We don¡¯t want to be used as shock troops, incurring losses, and weakening our position without any gain. Battles aren¡¯t just about winning, they are about completing objectives with the minimal amount of effort we can manage,¡± she replied harshly. Rolling his eyes, Nero replied, ¡°Yes, I get it. Preparation now will save lives and whatnot. That¡¯s not what I mean. What I¡¯m saying is that we can¡¯t know anything until we sit down and talk with them. We¡¯re on a quest to help out with the threat, and we¡¯re getting paid based on how big of an impact we make, right? Just like when we fought out by the kobald tunnel, we¡¯ll take what they say into consideration, but we won¡¯t be strictly following their commands. So, if in the moment it feels like we¡¯re going to be getting sacrificed for the greater good, then we¡¯ll obviously not be going along with it. Worrying about it now is pointless.¡± Knight Angleton leaned forward on his seat and said, ¡°We can still do what can to reduce the likelihood of that happening. We have a great deal of intelligence on which divisions have connections to the noble houses, and if we head off any plans before we make our way into the mountain, it will be easier when the time comes to handle whatever problems arise.¡± Sighing, Nero replied, ¡°Fine. Keep spinning your wheels. All I¡¯m saying is that arguing about it now is a waste of time.¡± No one seemed to agree with him, and they resumed their discussion as if he hadn¡¯t said anything. Vera continued to provide information on what her sources had found out about each division¡¯s ties, and Knight Angleton contributed by informing them of what likely methods they might use to control House Walker¡¯s forces. All the while, Cathleen maintained an air of command as she kept the conversation focused on House Walker¡¯s upcoming role in the assault. By the time they finally arrived at army command, Nero felt like they had all worked themselves up into a tizzy, utterly sure in their conclusions that they were going to have to fight tooth and nail to survive whatever dark plans the army and the nobles had for them. He on the other hand thought they were just being overly dramatic. The army command center was huge, just like every other building of significance in Dorchester. It couldn¡¯t even be described as a building, it was more like a compound. Multiple rectangular buildings filled a stone courtyard the size of a football stadium, each looking like it could survive heavy bombardment from some of those essence cannons he¡¯d seen. They were all made of rough grey stone, had minimal windows, and flat roofs. Instead of the usual trees and shrubs for decoration, there was just stone. Everything was stone. It made the entire area look like someone had bled the color out of the world. Or it would have if it weren¡¯t for all the soldiers wearing bright tabards and combat robes walking briskly all over the place as if they all had places to be. The outer walls of the compound weren¡¯t as high as he thought they¡¯d be, but unlike others, they were manned. All along the perimeter, there were guard houses on the wall with soldiers standing at attention looking down imperiously at the citizens outside. Everything about the place screamed, ¡®Go away!¡¯ Nero couldn¡¯t help muttering under his breath as he got out of the cab, ¡°Well this place is cheery. I wonder if they offer to host birthday parties here when there isn¡¯t a war on.¡± Knight Angleton replied seriously, ¡°There is always a war on. From here, all of Dorchester¡¯s forces are controlled. Army central command coordinates our hunting teams, road crews, town and village defense forces, and every troop deployment throughout Dorchester¡¯s area of control. This is the center of humanity¡¯s defense against the world, and the reason Dorchester¡¯s citizens can survive the threats outside our walls.¡± Nero, still not understanding why they couldn¡¯t at least set up a couple of picnic tables, replied, ¡°Uh-huh. It¡¯s all very serious, I¡¯m sure.¡±Support creative writers by reading their stories on Royal Road, not stolen versions. Their little group was quickly led along the stone paths between the buildings toward the imposing central structure. While everything maintained the blocky, utilitarian appearance, the building in front of them stood out with its disproportionate height and breadth. Walking through the front gate was like stepping into a giant stone beast. Even the ether seemed to be pressing down on them. Eventually, they made it through the various checkpoints and arrived in the conference room they would be using to meet with the command staff. Inside, the dwarves Nero had met at the oath-giving ceremony were already there. Sitting there in their armor, looking like miniature bearded warriors, they fit in with the decor like chocolate chips on a cookie. The room they were using was as bland as could be. No artwork hung on the walls, and the floor along with the table was made of the same stone as the walls. The only thing not stone were the chairs, which were plain wood, completely lacking in any ornamentation or even cushions. The essence lights hanging from the ceiling weren¡¯t even adorned with anything. They just hung there. Whistling softly, Nero muttered, ¡°This place makes the other army compounds look like hotels in comparison. Did they want people to hate working here? This place looks like a prison.¡± Cathleen, practical as ever, replied to his mutterings, ¡°This is a place with a singular purpose. There is no place for vanity or distraction here.¡± Shrugging off her statement, Nero stepped forward to greet Mavros. ¡°Hey man, fancy seeing you here. I heard the paperwork for your mountain has been handled. Congrats. When are you guys planning on moving in?¡± Not bothering to get up from his chair, Mavros replied, ¡°I¡¯ve already dispatched the rune workers along with several guards to watch over them. They should be opening a temporary portal to Glimmer Mountain within a week if they aren¡¯t interrupted by anything on their journey.¡± Taking his seat along with the rest of his party, he could see that between the dwarves and House Walker, they were already filling up half the table. ¡°That¡¯s good news, I think. So you guys aren¡¯t going to be teleporting people here? How¡¯s that going to work?¡± Nero asked, interested in how they were planning to get their clan here. Mavros¡¯ lip twitched in a slight smile, making his entire beard move like a tugged rug. ¡°Rune work ain¡¯t something humans can understand. It requires knowledge of the earth and an understanding of the flows.¡± Eager to be included in the conversation, Nick leaned over the table and added, ¡°Dwarven magic primarily relies on runic interpretation of the ethereal balance and connection within the ground. They are unparalleled in their ability to interpret essence flows throughout what they call the ¡®earth¡¯.¡± Hearing the distinct difference in the dwarven word, ¡®earth¡¯, Nero figured he was in for another long and boring lecture. All he wanted to know was why dwarves used portals rather than transportation like the humans, he wasn¡¯t interested in suffering through another cultural explanation. Luckily, he was saved by the room¡¯s doors opening, showing that Commander Dahl and the command staff had arrived. Looking around, Nero noticed that no one bothered to get up to greet them. As he¡¯d come to expect, nobody in this culture wasted time with what he¡¯d consider common courtesies. Without any preamble, Commander Dahl began speaking. ¡°We¡¯re here today to coordinate House Walker¡¯s deployment alongside our forces as we continue our push into the mountain city.¡± Interrupting him, Mavros said, ¡°What do ya mean continue? Have ya already begun the assault?¡± Nodding as he took his seat, Commander Dahl replied, ¡°Yes, we have. While we¡¯ve been ready for a while, our former general preferred to wait until the mages figured out how to break through the kobald¡¯s scry defenses. I didn¡¯t and still don¡¯t see a reason to give them time to further reinforce their defenses. Last night we began our assault, and our forces have already cut off the lower levels from the upper mountain city. What we need to determine now is where House Walker is going to be joining the fight.¡± Nero noticed that Cathleen and Knight Angleton both looked surprised, while Vera and Nick¡¯s expressions remained calm. The dwarves on the other hand seemed outraged for some reason. Mavros leaned forward over the table, looking rather comical as he didn¡¯t fit the height requirement for a human-sized chair. ¡°Why weren¡¯t we informed? I made it clear that I wanted to be kept up to date with your plans for the assault!¡± Commander Dahl and his sub-commanders all looked over at the dwarf with blank expressions on their faces, clearly not caring about his opinion. ¡°We didn¡¯t tell you because you didn¡¯t need to know. If you¡¯d like to join the fight, I would be happy to allow you to coordinate yourself under the same stipulations that I¡¯ll be giving House Walker. However, overall command and control will remain with me. I haven¡¯t worked with dwarves before, and I don¡¯t know what you are capable of. Fitting you into our plans will be at best, an afterthought,¡± Commander Dahl said firmly, as if there wasn¡¯t a chance in hell of him changing his mind. Mavros, grinning like a crazy person replied, ¡°That¡¯s right, ya don¡¯t know what we¡¯re capable of. When my clan arrives, you¡¯ll learn why dwarven warriors are feared in the dark depths ya humans are too scared to go poking around in.¡± Raising an eyebrow, Commander Dahl replied, ¡°I¡¯m looking forward to it. Do you plan on deploying a significant force in aid of Dorchester?¡± The dwarves all chuckled around the table as if they were in on a secret joke. Still grinning, Mavros replied, ¡°Oh, no. We just wanted to be informed as to where you humans will be fighting. We¡¯ll be attacking the lizards from our mountain.¡± Confused, Commander Dahl asked, ¡°How? The mountain city has no connection to the outlying mountains?¡± Mavros, now chuckling, replied, ¡°You humans have no idea what you¡¯re dealing with. Haven¡¯t ya even looked at what the kobalds have done to the city you abandoned? They¡¯ve spread out over half the mountain range.¡± Gesturing with an armored hand toward one of the dwarves next to him, he waited for the dwarf to pull up a hologram. Over the center of the table, an intricate and highly detailed map of the mountain range beside Dorchester appeared. Nero noticed right away that the dwarves'' method of projecting the hologram was different than what he was used to seeing. It wasn¡¯t coming from the table, or any of the human technology hidden around the room. Instead, it was being projected from the dwarf¡¯s gauntlet. He could see what he guessed were runes floating in the ether in a circular pattern around the dwarf¡¯s hand, pulling and twisting the essence flows into their center and changing them. It was like a spell-form, but functionally very different. Leaning forward in his chair, Nero¡¯s eyes widened in appreciation of the spectacle he was witnessing. On the other hand, the rest of the room was focused on the projection itself. While Dorchester¡¯s mages may have had trouble piercing the kobald¡¯s illusions, the dwarves apparently did not. Considering the scale, the mountain city which butted up next to Dorchester and filled the mountain was rather small. Throughout the rest of the mountain range, there were other cities that had been built by the kobalds, all of them connected by multiple tunnels in a grand web. Considering how tiny Dorchester itself looked in comparison to them, Commander Dahl and the others couldn¡¯t fathom how many kobalds might be living there. ¡°How is this possible?¡± he muttered. ¡°They haven¡¯t had time to spread out that far. If they did, then why haven¡¯t they already run over us? With these kinds of numbers, why would they only send probing attacks?¡± Mavros, now no longer chuckling, replied, ¡°Because they¡¯re suffering from the same problems you are. The density shift you¡¯re experiencing isn¡¯t just happening above ground. It¡¯s happening to them as well. The lizards aren¡¯t interested in you. At least they weren¡¯t, not until ya made yourself a problem.¡± Joining the conversation, Cathleen asked, ¡°So, their assault on the surface? What was that? Just a response to us discovering them?¡± Most of the dwarves were nodding. Crusher, a dwarf Nero recognized from before, replied, ¡°Yes, that¡¯s exactly what it was. You disturbed one of their routes to the surface they were using to keep an eye on ya. They sent out a force to deal with ya but didn¡¯t particularly care if it worked. The mountain city, as ye call it, is just one small part of their greater whole. When they realized that there were humans up here, they just stopped expanding in that direction and sealed themselves up. Getting them out of the area is going to be requiring a lot more than ya thought it would.¡± Mavros nodded in agreement and added, ¡°That¡¯s why we wanted to be involved with the planning. Our two cities will need to work together to clear out their infestation. I¡¯ll not be having an entire civilization of kobalds polluting the earth with their planar invasion.¡± Nick, his voice trembling, asked, ¡°Is that what they¡¯re doing? Is this an invasion?¡± Mavros replied, ¡°More or less. As far as we can tell, they haven¡¯t begun to pull away any of our essence or delivered any of their own, but I think they¡¯ve reached the point where they¡¯re capable of it. As it stands, there¡¯s still plenty of planar leakage that we¡¯ll have to be cleaning up at some point.¡± Fists tight in a clench on the table, Commander Dahl asked, ¡°Did the capital know about this when they offered you the mountain here?¡± Mavros immediately replied, ¡°Of course they did! Why do you think we wanted it? The cursed to the hells lizards have already done half the work for us. All we have to do is take it from them.¡± Before anyone could say anything, the doors to the meeting room were swept open, forcing everyone to turn away from the disturbing hologram they were all staring at. In walked Grandmaster Lancel along with two other knights. Nero was immediately reminded how large the man was, even making a giant like Knight Angleton look rather normal. The two large knights behind him looked tiny in comparison. ¡°I apologize for my tardiness. I was held up dealing with a few things at the order,¡± he declared loudly before pausing in place¡­ staring hard at the hologram. Roaring loudly, he demanded, ¡°Is this map accurate?¡± Mavros and the dwarves were not intimidated at all by the man¡¯s presence, immediately beginning to chuckle again. ¡°Aye, it¡¯s true. It seems that you humans¡¯ desire to keep each other in the dark has caught up with ya again. I¡¯ve never understood how you can be so callous with each other. Have you no shame in letting the weaker of your species die in ignorance of the threats they face?¡± he asked with a hint of mockery. Just then, the room filled with a golden light, Archmage Jennings appeared in a flash on the other side of the table, already seated in one of the free chairs. ¡°There is no great conspiracy King Mithrilstrike. Each human city is given the resources it needs to build itself. They are expected to face their challenges on their own, to grow and succeed by their own merit. The kingdom only interferes when the laws and binding that hold society together are violated. Kobalds and the like are natural threats, meant to be handled locally,¡± he said as if he were some type of sage, kindly gifting the room with his wisdom. All of the humans seemed to take a moment to ponder his words, even the grandmaster who was still standing in shock at the realization of how severely they¡¯d been underestimating the kobalds. Nero and the dwarves however looked as if the archmage had just tried to sell them a dumpster dressed up as a cybertruck. ¡°Well, that¡¯s just bullshit. You knew the kobalds were eventually going to wipe out the city, and were probably even planning on it. Real leaders of men and pinnacles of society you are!¡± shouted Nero sarcastically. Muttering under his breath, Nero added, ¡°Sons of bitches couldn¡¯t even give the locals a heads up.¡± To Nero, this was a perfect example of the upper classes convincing themselves that not getting involved was ¡®for the benefit¡¯ of the masses. He¡¯d heard it all before, ¡®They need to learn how to take care of themselves¡¯, and ¡®Our role is to ensure everyone starts with the same opportunities. Anything beyond that is just hurting their potential.¡¯ Shrugging uncaringly, Archmage Jennings replied, ¡°It¡¯s not all bad. Due to the density shift and some of the recent changes in leadership, you have a good chance of surviving their challenge. In fact, with the addition of the dwarves, I¡¯d say your success is almost assured. Although I think you really need to work on the quality of the mages you are developing locally.¡± Laughing outright at Jennings¡¯ statement, Nero caused the entire room, even the dwarves, to stare at him in confusion. ¡°Aren¡¯t you supposed to be the guy in charge of the Mage Tower here? So isn¡¯t the fact that they couldn¡¯t find out where the kobalds were YOUR fault?¡± Nero asked with a mocking finger pointed accusingly at the old mage. Archmage Jennings frowned, but replied calmly, ¡°The mages here were of poor quality long before I arrived.¡± Nero shook his head and continued, ¡°Even then. Aren¡¯t you the head of the whole mage guild thing? Isn¡¯t it on you to make sure that the people here are up to snuff?¡± All of the humans at this point were staring at the archmage, interested in what he had to say for himself. ¡°Well, as an organization, we try and allow each mage tower to develop on its own. Just like the cities in which they reside, they are limited in what they have access to in order to promote growth and progress,¡± he said firmly. Nero pointed at the hologram still hanging like a threat over the table. ¡°And how¡¯s that working out for you? Still feeling like you''re a successful society gardener? A lot of people are going to die because you and those like you let things get this far. You could have stuck to your principles and let the locals handle it, but you could at least have given them a heads-up. Now, the city the kingdom was supposed to foster is undergoing a density shift while at war with a civilization that outnumbers it by thousands to one. It¡¯s like you assholes wanted the city to fail!¡± he finished in a shout. Suddenly going quiet, Nero felt several pieces of information that he¡¯d heard over the past few weeks and months click together in his mind. ¡°Holy shit! You did! That¡¯s what the whole Fate Tower thing was about. Someone predicted that the city would fail, and you morons just went along with it. Rather than try and stop the problem before it became one, you just agreed with the likely outcome and planned around it. You ¡®logicked¡¯ yourselves into killing off one of your cities! How often do you high and mighty types do this? How many people have you casually sacrificed because you agreed to let things take their natural course? I get wanting to let people learn from their mistakes due to the way leveling works¡­ but Christ-on-a-cracker don¡¯t you think you¡¯re taking it a little too far? You don¡¯t teach a kid to look both ways before crossing a street by letting him get hit by a bus!¡± He shouted while hopping to his feet and leaning over the table, furious at the thought of the people in charge letting their people die for some arbitrary principles. Archmage Jennings, having always been careful about how much he¡¯d told Nero, paled in his seat. The thought of Nero actually figuring out the larger picture from all the small but insignificant hints he¡¯d given him had never actually occurred to him. At most, he¡¯d hoped the young man might realize that a larger game was afoot. He never would have predicted that Nero would piece it all together. Coughing into his hand to clear his throat, Jennings replied to the room. ¡°The laws that govern our society are there for a reason. And so am I. I came here to guide and help this city in its time of need. While I can¡¯t outright aid you all in your fight, and neither can the kingdom, we can help you discover how to help yourselves,¡± he said compassionately. While the humans all sat frozen in their chairs, each trying to come to terms with what they¡¯d heard, the dwarves sat quietly, not interfering with their business. Nero, however, once again filled the silence by sarcastically muttering louder than necessary, ¡°Like I said, real quality leadership you guys have here. I wonder if there is a skill for ¡®douchebaggery¡¯.¡± Chapter 241 - Talking during class. King Oliver Oglivarch was well aware of his reputation among the citizens of his kingdom. He was known as one of the most powerful kings they¡¯d ever had and was expected to reach level 100 and ultimately join their pantheon. It was common knowledge that his first pillar, observation, made him a practically all-knowing master of the game, one whom there was no point in crossing. However, he knew that his abilities did not make him omniscient. He was just very good at monitoring events from afar. The problem inherent in his ability was that he needed to know where to look. Even then, that was all he could do¡­ look. To affect anything, he needs to physically take action. And for that, he developed agents¡­ invisible hands that he could use to steer his kingdom in the direction he wanted. In Dorchester, that invisible hand was Mage-adept Newbanks. He¡¯d sent her there to manipulate events and keep an eye on things he didn¡¯t have the time or patience to pay attention to. ¡°Your majesty, I don¡¯t know how, but I believe the evaluators have discovered that I am working for you,¡± she said quietly, sounding utterly defeated by her many recent failures. The king stood in his rooms, projecting himself through a communications relay directly into her private room in Dorchester¡¯s Tower of Magic on the other side of the kingdom. He kept his expression calm and supportive as he looked down on her kneeling before him. It was a delicate process to train agents like her. He needed to encourage her drive while ensuring that she didn¡¯t take too much initiative. She was close to breaking, and one wrong word could render her useless to him. Keeping voice calm, he replied, ¡°They are no longer evaluators, they have left their ties to the Royal Academy behind and are now wholly dedicated to House Walker. You do not need to worry about them. While they know that you are working for someone outside Dorchester, they do not know who it is. As long as you keep to the tasks that I¡¯ve given you, they won¡¯t care enough about you to interfere.¡± Grimacing in annoyance, she replied, ¡°Yes, your majesty. However, I¡¯m sorry to report that I¡¯ve been unable to stop the local general¡¯s execution. The grandmaster of the local order of the Knights of Oglivarch is being particularly vengeful for some reason. He will not allow General Branson to leave the city.¡± The king, sounding kind and gentle, replied, ¡°I know. You were not meant to succeed. You were merely meant to make the man question his resolve. In that, you have succeeded.¡± Frowning in confusion, Mage-adept Newbanks bit back her reply. Even from the capital, he could see her turbulent emotions through the scry he was using to observe her while his physical attention remained on his connection to her room through the communications link. ¡°It¡¯s alright. Ask the question you need answered,¡± he told her gently, mindful of the fact that she was nearing her breaking point. After taking a deep breath, she looked up from her knees and gazed into the eyes of the king of Oglivarch. ¡°Your majesty, if you already know everything, and you already know how all of this is going to play out, then why am I here? Of what use am I to you?¡± Before he could respond, she continued, slowly beginning to rant. ¡°I¡¯ve failed to keep the faith district focused on the narrative you wanted. The pressure from the nobles on House Walker is all but negated by the shrewd business ties that House Verena is developing, and Lord Walker has successfully locked in his image as a talented but unimportant commoner turned noble. Even his status as a unique hasn¡¯t been enough to incite the kind of blind loyalty you requested me to build for him. Granted everyone believes that he¡¯ll at some point become powerful, but no one expects him to save the city all on his own. I¡¯ve failed in almost every task you¡¯ve asked of me!¡± The king began to chuckle, skillfully modulating his tone to express a sense of fondness and support for the woman while avoiding even a hint of mockery. ¡°You haven¡¯t failed me. You¡¯ve done exactly as I asked and steered events directly where I wanted them to go. Everything I¡¯ve asked you to do was meant to serve another purpose than what you probably think it was. For example, the general. He was never meant to leave Dorchester alive. The point of procuring voices in the ear of the grandmaster, asking for the general to be sent off to the frontlines of the war with Islangur as a penance for his failure was only needed to test and refine the grandmaster¡¯s resolve. Grandmaster Lancel has been too lax in his duty. By forcing him to take a firmer hand on things, he¡¯ll be more motivated to involve himself in the coming conflicts that Dorchester will have to face. There are instances where someone of his level can intervene in local affairs, and he needed to be primed in order to be ready to seize such opportunities.¡± Mage-adept Newbanks wasn¡¯t unfamiliar with the tactics of manipulation, and she could understand in theory what the king was talking about. However, she couldn¡¯t grasp the point of what the king was trying to accomplish through her continued failures. ¡°Remember, your ultimate goal in Dorchester is to ensure that the city survives. We¡¯re fighting against its fate, and each of your actions is meant to alter the course of the players that will be at the center of events in the future. It was never about the plans themselves, but how the reactions to them shaped the people involved,¡± he said softly, making it clear that she was serving his ultimate purpose. Seeing that she was beginning to understand her part in his plans, he firmed his voice and said, ¡°I never required you to be there to monitor events. I could do that from here. There is nothing in my kingdom that is outside my power to know. You¡¯re there to act as my lever, so that I may shift the future events toward an outcome that serves my greater purpose. Dorchester is just a lever itself, which I¡¯m using to reform the Tower of Fate¡­ among other things. Do you understand what I¡¯m saying?¡± While she knew that one of the central tenets of the kingdom was to allow its people to find their own paths, she knew it wasn¡¯t her place to question the morality of her king. Nodding in acceptance, she replied, ¡°Yes, your majesty. I understand and obey. What would you have me do next?¡± ¡ª-- The room they were using for their meeting had reached capacity, each of the chairs having been filled. Nero had to wonder if someone had already known how many people and dwarves would end up showing up. After Archmage Jennings¡¯ declaration about the kingdom¡¯s non-interference policy, the mood had turned particularly sour. None of the humans wanted to contradict him, while the dwarves continued to mock them for their idiocy. The conversation getting more and more heated. Throughout it all, Nero kept his mouth shut. He could tell that the situation was getting out of control, and he questioned whether or not it was his place to get involved. The kingdom had practically developed a religious doctrine about letting its people face their challenges on their own, and he could tell that it would be pointless to argue with them about it. What he could do was get them to stop arguing about it and instead focus on what mattered. Raising his voice to interrupt the ongoing argument, he said, ¡°Everybody shut up for a second! Whether or not the capital knew about the kobalds doesn¡¯t matter at this point. What matters now is what we¡¯re going to do about it. So how about we focus on that!¡± Both the dwarves and humans piped down, silently agreeing to let the matter drop for the moment. Grandmaster Lancel, his impressive size overfilling his side of the table, pointed at the holographic map the dwarves had left up, and asked, ¡°How accurate is this?¡± The dwarven king, Mavros Mithrilstrike, replied somewhat offended by the question, ¡°As accurate as we could make it! While we can¡¯t know exactly what is happening inside those areas under their control, we¡¯re able to know they¡¯re there.¡± Turning to Archmage Jennings, Grandmaster Lancel asked, ¡°And the local Tower of Magic cannot aid us in refining this at all? Is there really nothing you can do to aid them in their efforts to pierce the kobald illusions?¡± Archmage Jennings looked surprisingly sympathetic when he replied, ¡°I¡¯m sorry, but no. As best I can guess, the mages here will not be able to counter the kobald¡¯s defensive techniques anytime soon. And, to be fair, even if I did help, which I can¡¯t, we would not be able to see everything. While it¡¯s true that the kingdom has mastered the techniques required to pierce the kobald ¡®illusions¡¯ as you call them, the deeper areas have been completely shielded.¡± Nero, listening closely, noted that the archmage hinted at the fact that not even he knew what was down there. Commander Dahl gritted his teeth and said, ¡°We need that mountain city, and we need it now. We¡¯re still receiving an influx of citizens fleeing their villages and towns in the face of the growing monster numbers due to the density shift. Without a place to put them, and the underground fields to work, our space and supplies will soon run out. Regardless of what¡¯s down there waiting for us, we have to act.¡± Archmage Jennings replied quickly, ¡°I¡¯m not saying you shouldn¡¯t. I¡¯m just saying that there is nothing the Tower of Magic can do in the short term to aid you aside from fighting alongside the army. Even then, I doubt the mages here would be of much help to you.¡± Mavros, more than a little annoyed at how unprepared he¡¯d found the humans hopped off his chair. The table came up practically to his chest, somewhat ruining the intimidating effect he was probably hoping for. ¡°Well, you all seem to have quite the problem on your hands. I¡¯ll be taking my people to my mountain and beginning our work. If ye manage to survive, I¡¯m sure we¡¯ll be seeing each other in the future. Good luck to ye,¡± he said firmly while gesturing for his fellow dwarves to follow him out. Like a light bulb turning off, the hologram hovering over the table vanished. Muttering amongst themselves about the stupid humans being doomed, they made their way out of the room without even bothering to say goodbye. Nero privately took a moment to admire their style. The king hadn¡¯t even offered him a parting head nod¡­ it was a boss exit.This story is posted elsewhere by the author. Help them out by reading the authentic version. Grandmaster Lancel ignored them, already turning to Commander Dahl before they even left the room. ¡°Bring up what maps of the mountain city we do have. And show me your deployment plan.¡± Gesturing to his aid, Commander Dahl had the woman manipulate the table to bring up another hologram. ¡°While we can¡¯t know how much the kobalds have changed things, we¡¯ve overlaid our historical maps with what little information we have. The first few levels both in the upper city and below should be accurate. Our forces have successfully reached the first chamber and are currently working toward pushing out the kobalds. The fighting isn¡¯t all that intense and I think we should have a first foothold in place by the end of the day. We intend to focus on cutting off the upper floors of the city and then working on clearing them out with hunter teams. Considering how little information we have on what we¡¯ll find, our specific plans remain fluid.¡± Grandmaster Lancel nodded in understanding as he studied the hologram, reaching out to manipulate it to focus on the section in the middle. Everyone at the table watched as the hologram zoomed in on the various connections between the upper floors and the first massive underground chamber. While there were many rooms and caverns, there were a limited number of central tunnels that connected the upper city to the lower one. If they could control them, the upper city would essentially be cut off from any kobald reinforcements. Cathleen joined the conversation by saying, ¡°I¡¯m assuming you intended to deploy House Walker as one of the hunter teams being sent into the upper floors?¡± Nodding, Commander Dahl replied, ¡°Yes, I think considering the make-up of your forces, that would make sense. The forward lines need soldiers and people willing to follow orders. I¡¯d rather have you and yours unleashed in an area that takes advantage of your isolated command and control than having to work around it.¡± Nero, out of the corner of his eye saw Archmage Jennings smile, as if everything being said was going according to his plan. Not knowing whether or not that was a good thing, he once again chose to keep his mouth shut. Knight Angleton pointed at the upper city and said, ¡°I agree, our forces number over 300, and can easily be split up into hunter teams. We can deploy from here, and then spread out, clearing the kobalds as we go. I¡¯m assuming you¡¯ll be sending reserve forces to reinforce the levels we¡¯ll be clearing?¡± Grandmaster Lancel added, ¡°Be sure to deploy our own forces from here and here to cut off any chance of the kobalds gathering in force.¡± While speaking, he manipulated the hologram to show the areas he was speaking about. Nero watched closely as the military types got into the specifics. Meanwhile, his mind wandered onto the bigger picture. Even if the army ended up successfully clearing out the mountain city, and that was a big IF, then they¡¯d end up having to place a lot of soldiers along the routes to the other kobald cities the little bastards had sneakily built up. The whole point of taking over the mountain city had been to remove the problem of having an enemy at Dorchester¡¯s back. Yes, they needed the space for the people fleeing the density shift, and the underground fields for food, but that had always been a secondary concern to an army of kobalds hiding under their feet. Even if everything went perfectly, and they successfully took the mountain city, they¡¯d still be right back where they started¡­ the kobald threat not having been removed. Thinking back to how many kobald cities were displayed on the hologram the dwarves had shown them, Nero wondered if the kobalds would even care if the humans took over the mountain city. If they were lucky, the kobalds might cut their losses and just let them have it. Mentally kicking himself, Nero doubted that they would be that lucky. Clenching his fists under the table, he felt the unmistakable desire to stop talking about this and just get out there. While all of this theory-crafting and tactics were probably important, it wasn¡¯t really his area. He had zero contributions to make to the conversation. Reaching out with his essence field, he sent a private connection request to the archmage, bypassing the local Though Hub entirely. Feeling the connection established as the archmage continued to feign interest in the conversation going on around them, Nero felt the man¡¯s presence appear in his mind. While not exactly oppressive, Nero could feel the old mage¡¯s power dwarfing him. ¡°Yes, Nero. What can I do for you?¡± Archmage Jennings asked softly. Trying to keep his feelings hidden from the man, Nero replied, ¡°I just wanted to touch base with you and clarify a few things. You said that the capital knew about the kobalds, right? Well, I wanted to know how. Also, I wanted to ask you about your plans to reform the local mage tower, which I assume you have.¡± Mentally chuckling at Nero¡¯s audacity, Jennings replied, ¡°Well, let¡¯s start with how the capital knew about the kobalds. Like all cities, Dorchester is monitored from the central scrying towers in the capital. The network of towers can be harnessed into relays to send information to the capital from all over the kingdom. While the capital could scry on every inch of the kingdom itself, it doesn¡¯t usually bother. Yet, the information received from each city is still recorded in the central repository. That data is naturally filtered through our tower and analyzed before storage. Many years ago, the kobald infestation in the mountain city was discovered hidden within some of the data we had received from Dorchester¡¯s Tower of Magic.¡± Nero tried to keep the frown off his face as he pretended to listen to the military types argue about troop placement and tiered asset distribution. ¡°And you all didn¡¯t bother to tell the locals who missed it because you wanted them to learn from their mistakes? Couldn¡¯t you have just offered them a hint or something?¡± he asked, annoyed at their callousness. ¡°Nero, every city has to face its challenges. Dorchester isn¡¯t any different than anywhere else. Had the mages here been paying attention, they would have caught it. Looking more deeply at the records, I discovered that the mages at the capital even believed for a while that House Dorchen was aware of the threat. They were building up quite a little army, and it seemed likely that they were working toward dealing with the problem on their own. Had they been successful, they would have massively increased their position on the local leaderboards. Alas, they weren¡¯t interested in the kobalds, but were instead preparing for their little noble war with the Cosgraves,¡± he said sadly. Nero asked, ¡°And when you all realized what they were really doing? You still didn¡¯t get involved? I still don¡¯t understand how a coup like that isn¡¯t against the rules or something.¡± Jennings replied quickly, sounding almost amused, ¡°Not at all! Local politics and control is a matter for cities themselves to decide¡­ for the most part. The only reason the Populators ended up being sent was due to the fact that House Dorchen was secretly building weapons for the Islangurs in the south, violating kingdom law. It was treason against the kingdom that doomed House Dorchen, not against the city of Dorchester.¡± Nero, somewhat understanding what he was getting at, replied, ¡°And you guys with your super secret scrying ability didn¡¯t know about what they were doing?¡± ¡°No, the mages in the capital responsible for watching over Dorchester hadn¡¯t caught on to that fact. They assumed the weapons factories House Dorchen had secretly built were to supply their own forces for the noble war. No one bothered to look too closely at what they were doing. It¡¯s implausible to expect the mages to monitor everything,¡± he said. Nero then asked, ¡°And now that the locals know about the kobalds, you guys still aren¡¯t going to help them? Even sending a few mages who could teach them how to pierce the illusions would be enough to save countless lives. Why do they have to do it on their own? What¡¯s the point?¡± ¡°To allow them to earn their levels. If more powerful and knowledgeable mages from the capital handle everything for them, then their progress will be stunted. If the local forces manage to survive, they¡¯ll grow powerful enough to handle the density shift and the long-term war with the kobalds that will inevitably follow after retaking the mountain city. Adversity leads to strength just as surely as coddling leads to weakness,¡± Archmage Jennings replied sagely. Done talking about this crap, Nero replied, ¡°Well, fine. We¡¯ll just do it ourselves. I get your point, but I still think you guys are being assholes. I¡¯m sure you¡¯ve got a plan to slowly teach the local mages not to suck, but I don¡¯t want to hear about it anymore. I¡¯m just going to assume that you know what you¡¯re doing, and let you do you.¡± Somewhat sarcastically, Archmage Jennings replied, ¡°Thank you, and I do. Now, is there anything else you¡¯d like to discuss?¡± Annoyed at the old man¡¯s tone, Nero replied, ¡°Yes, as a matter of fact, there is, smartass. I want to know where you get off-¡± Pulled out of his conversation by Cathleen swatting his shoulder. Nero turned to look at her with confusion. ¡°Well?¡± she asked. Nero replied, ¡°Well, what?¡± Nick, seated two seats away from him, replied for her, ¡°The grandmaster asked you a question.¡± Nero, turning to look at the giant of a man seated on the other side of the table replied, ¡°Oh, sorry. I was too focused on trying to memorize the layout of the mountain. What did you want to ask me?¡± The grandmaster, looking rather unhappy with Nero¡¯s flippant tone, replied, ¡°I wished to know if you had any thoughts about our deployment plan for your house.¡± Glancing at Cathleen, who was seated next to him, Nero noted the restrained fury in her essence field which was nearly warping the ether with its potency. Turning back to the grandmaster, he replied with a smile, ¡°Nope. I¡¯m good with the plan. Go in, clear out the upper city, and come back for cake and congratulations. Sounds good to me¡­ can¡¯t wait.¡± Nero felt Archmage Jennings cut the connection he¡¯d had with him sharply. The sensation of the man¡¯s mind abruptly shutting off nearly made him wince, but he managed to keep the awkward smile he had on his face. ¡°My only question is why we¡¯re still here talking about this. Let¡¯s get our asses in gear and go kill some kobalds. We have a city to clear out,¡± he declared firmly, trying to sound as heroic and upstanding as possible. Unfortunately for him, Nero hadn¡¯t put much effort into managing his essence field, and everyone in the room could tell that he was just bored and a little hungry. His essence field¡¯s strength had turned him into a broadcaster for his emotions, and unless he trained a bit more on his passive suppression, he¡¯d continue to be an open book for anyone capable of reading him. Standing up from the table, Commander Dahl said firmly, ¡°Very well. You have your deployment orders. I expect House Walker to be at the mountain gate by 11. Knight Angleton knows the procedures. Fight well, and good luck.¡± The meeting ended in silence, everyone filing out of the room. After being quickly shuffled out of the command center, Nero broke the tense silence that they¡¯d all been suffering through the moment he hopped in the cab. ¡°So, that went well, huh? Ready to do our part for Dorchester?¡± he asked with a grin. Everyone in the cab, Nick and Vera included looked at him with blank stares making it clear that he had embarrassed himself and everyone who knew him. Turning away from the glares, he looked out through the window and said dismissively, ¡°I get it, you¡¯re tired. I feel ya. That meeting sucked. But hey, we¡¯ll soon be fighting clone warrior lizards in an abandoned mountain city built by your forefathers, so we¡¯ll be getting all the excitement we can handle soon enough.¡± With a grin, he added, ¡°House Walker is going to war¡­ how cool is that!¡± Chapter 242 - Everyones working hard... I should sit down. Michael Harring stood off to the side of the platform, calmly watching the arranged memory engrams play on the large holographic projector. While memories in this format were limited to just the visual and auditory spectrums, seeing Lord Walker speak was still impressive. He¡¯d watched these recordings many times, as had everyone else in this room most likely. However, he still wanted them fresh in their minds when he addressed them. This was the fourth introductory session he was leading and by now he¡¯d grown used to the process. As one of House Walker¡¯s troop-leaders, he was responsible for overseeing their forces from a managerial standpoint. He¡¯d volunteered for the opportunity to induct the followers himself, passionately stating that helping them understand ¡®why¡¯ they were here was more important than allowing them to figure it out for themselves. Letting people misinterpret Lord Walker would only end up wasting their potential and hurting House Walker in the long run. When Lord Walker¡¯s image faded from view, the hologram above the platform turned off. Returning to the podium at the center of the platform, he looked out over the recruits sitting in their seats. The room they were meeting in was one of the briefing halls in the barracks compound. Normally used for presentations and lectures, each guard barracks had one. He¡¯d gone around to each barracks and given this speech. It was necessary to prepare them for what their new lives would entail. Almost all the followers of House Walker had moved into the estate¡¯s military section, filling up the former guard quarters quite nicely. The buildings were all of the highest quality, and clearly intended to house a formidable force. House Dorchen had built them well, and House Walker intended to take full advantage of them. Adding some steel to his voice, he projected loudly, ¡°You¡¯ve all given up everything to join House Walker. Some of you have left families, jobs, and responsibilities. Others have taken up the opportunity to leave your past mistakes behind you to clear the obstructions you¡¯ve accumulated on your path. Regardless, for whatever reason, you¡¯re here now.¡± Sweeping his attention across the multiple rows of filled seats, he said, ¡°Many of you have already seen these memories of Lord Walker. Many of you were there to experience them yourselves. However, as a whole, you all lack the context to understand what Lord Walker was trying to tell you.¡± Leaving the podium behind, he began pacing across the platform while he continued, ¡°Lord Walker cares about you all more than you can possibly understand. He wants you all to succeed on your path. House Walker is being built as a place where we can all work together to support each other without having to give anything up. The sacrifices you will make under House Walker¡¯s leadership will be up to you. If you want to do the bare minimum, no one will punish you for that. If you want to leave, you can. While your oaths will be recorded as broken, House Walker will not chase you. Lord Walker has made it clear that he will not enforce any of the lawful strictures that bind you. He only wants those who want to be here. Lord Walker believes House Walker will be a place for adventurers to gather. Adventurers are people who will seek out danger and opportunity, earning coin and honor for doing what is right and good. It requires a certain mindset to be the kind of person who will stand up to the horrors of the world and not fold under the pressure. Lord Walker calls them wackos. The Walker Adventure Company was a term coined by Lord Walker himself. He envisions an entire house of roving wackos who will seek out danger and work together to overcome it. The bonds of camaraderie you will develop with the people seated next to you will be unbreakable. They will allow you to do things you never thought yourself capable of.¡± Noting the expected fire and passion building in their essence fields, he retook his place behind the podium. Softening his tone, he said, ¡°But as you all know, House Walker is not one of the city¡¯s houses. It belongs to the kingdom. Lord Walker is a unique, and as such is a citizen of no single city. As his oath-bound followers, now you aren¡¯t either. Your fates are tied to House Walker, so long as you wish to follow him. Being a wacko is about more than just facing danger without fear in your heart. It is about embracing what you are capable of. It¡¯s about being the best you can be, and then striving to be more. Every challenge you face, every obstacle you overcome, every person you save, every enemy you kill, they will all pave the path forward, and in time¡­ will level you higher than you can imagine.¡± Gesturing with his arms wide, he declared loudly, ¡°So, look to the men and women seated next to you. You are responsible for one another, and every victory or defeat is one you will all share. House Walker is your home now, and it is up to you to ensure its foundation is solid.¡± Having ended his prepared speech, he was about to walk off the platform, letting the next speaker who¡¯d be giving out assignments step forward when he heard a voice call out from the assembled followers. ¡°Is it true that you once faced Lord Walker in battle?¡± the anonymous voice shouted with enthusiastic curiosity. Not expecting the question, Michael visibly paused midstep before returning to the podium. Keeping his voice calm, he replied, ¡°Yes. Yes, I did.¡± Feeling the ether in the room boiling with the expectation of the story, he took a deep breath and began, ¡°When I first met Lord Walker, I was working as a hunter. My team and I were not the best people, we occasionally took jobs that weren¡¯t what any would call ¡®good¡¯ when we needed the money. Therefore, when word came down that someone was looking to make a new noble disappear in the wilds, a new noble who was barely out of his awakening, we accepted the contract.¡± Pausing at the podium, memories of the event flowed over him, his body reflexively shivering in fear. Coughing lightly to clear his throat, he continued, ¡°We ambushed Lord Walker and his party, killing everyone but him almost instantly. However, Lord Walker wasn¡¯t so easy to put down. He alone stood against us.¡± Michael then fell silent, remembering the team members he¡¯d lost that day. The entire meeting hall seemed to hold their breath, waiting patiently for him to resume his story. Unable to stop themselves, that first voice who¡¯d asked the initial question shouted, ¡°Then what happened?!?¡± Eyes hardening, he looked out into the room to focus on the enthusiastic young man who was eagerly awaiting to hear how Lord Walker survived. ¡°Suffice it to say, I¡¯m the only one of my team to have survived the experience. Lord Walker required a prisoner¡­ someone to interrogate,¡± he added in a whisper loud enough to carry through the silence. Shaking off the memories, he said, ¡°Lord Walker does not quit. He does not accept things that he does not want to. He is an adventurer! Body mind, and soul. When faced with an obstacle, he destroys it. My team and I were his obstacles that day, and we were destroyed. For whatever reason, Lord Walker personally saw value in redeeming me. He petitioned the Tower of Law to give me a chance to return to my path. Later, through chance or destiny, I was lucky enough to experience him showing me and many others how to walk that path. He showed us the way forward. And now you all have been given that same chance¡­ I suggest you seize it!!¡± Without another word, he walked off the platform. Inside, he was feeling the burning need to push forward, to prove himself worthy of the chance he¡¯d been given. He was not just the criminal scum he used to be, or the butcher¡¯s boy without any prospects¡­ he was something more¡­ he was a wacko¡­ one of The Walker¡¯s Wackos. ¡ª-- Nero had experienced enough of the local culture to understand that everyone in the carriage was busy multitasking with their links. Cathleen and Angleton were holding a conversation while sending out orders. Vera was interjecting when appropriate, coordinating their supplies and support while doing the same over hers. Even Nick was sitting there semi-slackjawed while focusing on his link. Nero on the other hand felt a little annoyed at not having anything to do. While it was nice that nobody was asking him to participate in the planning, he didn¡¯t like the fact that he wasn¡¯t in control of anything. ¡®This is why I didn¡¯t want to call my house, House Walker. Something with my name on it should probably involve me,¡¯ he thought sourly while ignoring the hushed conversations going on around him. From the context, he could tell that they all had it handled, and he could just imagine the furious preparations that were going on back at the estate in response to the rapid-fire pings they were sending out. Yes, he knew about the pings because he was being cc¡¯d on everything they were sending. His link kept reminding him. With nothing better to do, Nero connected to the Thought Hub through his link and skimmed what they were sending him. There were deployment orders to the various levels they¡¯d set up, supply requisition orders, wagon and transport requests, and typical stuff that sounded official and important. He ended up reading one of the earlier pings from start to finish. It was a chain of replies back and forth between the house leadership about how they were going to set up his house¡¯s forces. Unsurprisingly, It looked like everyone eventually ended up agreeing with Cathleen. His house would be using the same formation system that some of the northern houses used. She would be the battle leader, the one in charge of everything. Below her were the battle commanders who were mostly taken from Knight Angleton¡¯s former forces. Then came the troop leaders who managed multiple team leaders.The story has been stolen; if detected on Amazon, report the violation. From what Nero could tell, it was a system designed for flexibility, with no permanent assignments. When needed, they could come together to form a cohesive force, but they could just as easily break up into teams of five and act like hunter squads. On paper, it sounded good, but he thought the system was overly complicated. It looked like they¡¯d need to specifically assign everyone to teams before every deployment¡­ every time. Shivering at the thought of how much paperwork that would entail, Nero closed the ping and hid it far away in one of the ¡®folders¡¯ he¡¯d set up for pings he wanted to save. No longer interested in following along with their pre-battle planning, Nero instead chose to open one of the books he¡¯d saved on his link. This particular book was one about spell design theory which he¡¯d found in his new library. While 80% of it was confusing as hell, the remaining 20% continued to give him ideas on how to futz with the few spell forms he¡¯d managed to mostly understand. After leaving their cab and taking a teleporter back to the estate, Nero got to see exactly what he¡¯d expected to see upon his return. The entire grounds were filled with people running around like they were late for work. Crates of supplies were being loaded into carts, horses were being saddled and hooked up to transport wagons. The ether around him hummed with controlled chaos. Not knowing where he should be headed, he decided to tag along with Cathleen who was slowly accumulating people around her as she walked. One after another people were quickly briefing her on what was being done. Like a roving efficiency machine, she curtly and firmly replied to every one of them and sent them back off like a boss. All it took for him to be ignored was a little flex of effort into his essence field. He didn¡¯t know why, and he didn¡¯t care, but he was getting pretty good at hiding himself with that essence technique former evaluator Quincy had shown him. Overall, he found the atmosphere surprisingly professional. He could only assume that Vera was behind everyone wearing tabards with his house¡¯s symbol on them. The grey and teal highlights gave the people a surprising amount of uniformity despite everyone being in different kinds of armor. The only exceptions were the people in robes, who had acquired a house patch over their chest for some reason. Through his essence field, he was able to see hundreds of people creating the wagon train that would be heading off for the war. It was an odd sight considering that around the main road leading up to his estate was a manicured landscape that wouldn¡¯t look out of place in an Emily Post fantasy reimagining. Chuckling to himself, Nero noticed a random guy pushing a wheelbarrow full of manure. Thinking about it logically, it made sense that someone had to be the one to clean up after the horses. Watching closely, he saw the guy skillfully use telekinesis to swipe another hunk of dung out from under a carriage and deposit it onto the rest of his collection. The casual display of powers once again highlighted to him how commonplace things like that were here. Shaking his head, Nero realized that he¡¯d misplaced Cathleen and her entourage. ¡®Oops,¡¯ he thought to himself before looking around in confusion. Using his essence field, he quickly found the group she was leading around but decided that it wasn¡¯t worth chasing after her. He was already carrying all the supplies he¡¯d need, and there wasn¡¯t anything for him to do here. He¡¯d be better off finding a quiet place to sit his ass down and maybe do some reading. Until there were kobalds to kill, there was no point in him just walking around like a useless manager pretending to look busy. Near the front of the wagon train, Nero found the wagon he¡¯d been assigned to in the deployment orders Cathleen sent out. It was as empty as he¡¯d hoped, with only the driver there to do the final checks on the tack for the horses. Silently slipping into the back under the canvas top, Nero took his seat along one of the benches. The wagon itself was utilitarian to the point of being almost ironic. He could tell that it was a ¡®fancy¡¯ version of a transport wagon due to the padded seats and ornate woodwork. However, keeping with the cultural norm of everything being built for purpose over vanity, the benches were lined up exactly like they would be for a means of common troop transport. Taking advantage of the temporarily empty wagon, Nero pulled out his trusty wooden stump from his personal space to use as a footrest and closed his eyes. Intent on taking advantage of the time before people began showing up, Nero accessed his link and started reading. Not ten minutes later, he was brought out of his book by a sense of wrongness in the ether. Opening his eyes, he uncrossed his arms and put away his stool. His essence senses were practically screaming that something was wrong. There was a warpage to the essence flows that stood out like a bump in the ether¡­ and it was moving. ¡°Spying noble bastards!¡± he muttered to himself before tweaking his essence to hide himself. Jumping out of the back of the wagon, he silently stalked the hidden infiltrator, intent on stopping them from doing whatever it was they came here to do. He moved through the crowd like a wraith. It was kind of weird to be hidden while in full sunlight, and he felt rather stupid stalking around like he was some kind of assassin while everyone went on about their business. Realizing that there was no point in crouching, he forced himself to stand up. Slipping between the wagons, he eventually tracked down the disturbance in the ether, noticing that it was moving through the crowd with purpose. He wasn¡¯t sure why, but he got the distinct impression that it was heading somewhere specific. Was it meeting someone? Had the house he¡¯d set up already been filled with spies? Keeping his presence as hidden as possible, Nero followed along. Having to dodge people who were working was rather annoying, and it felt like it took more effort to move to the crowd while hidden rather than when he wasn¡¯t. He could only chalk it up to people having a sixth sense about running into people that pickpockets and children naturally exploited. Eventually, he came to a stop when the person hiding themselves met up with others who were equally hidden. He couldn¡¯t tell how many there were, but when they came together their essence-hiding technique seemed to merge into one large blob of warped essence flows. To Nero, it looked like a bubble of wrongness in his essence field, not doing anything, but still wrong. Gently, and from behind an exquisitely landscaped bush, he reached out with his essence field and probed the disturbance. Despite not needing to, it just felt wrong to be hiding without finding a bush to peek out from behind. He didn¡¯t want to tip them off, but he needed to understand what he was looking at. The bubble of essence reminded him of something, but he couldn¡¯t remember why. He knew he¡¯d seen something like this before, but wasn¡¯t exactly sure where. Like an unfolding origami paper plane, he lifted the essence flows and peaked behind the curtain. Widening his eyes, he was surprised to see the evaluators all standing there like idiots in a circle, chattering away without a care in the world. ¡°The Blackwoods have been trying to drum up support to cause problems for the expanding trading houses, but Lady Verena has had too much of a head start. She¡¯d already had plans in place for multiple trading houses in every gate, and the only thing slowing her down is the availability of trustworthy people to run them,¡± one of the evaluators said¡­ Nero thought her name was Iddy or Drew or something. Another evaluator spoke up, ¡°Shouldn¡¯t be a problem. I can arrange for her to get a list of a few minor houses that have been looking for opportunities. I¡¯ve looked into them enough to know that they¡¯d feel grateful for the opportunity.¡± Quincy, still obviously in charge despite the fact that the evaluators were no longer wearing their stupid hat-lights, ordered, ¡°Be sure to keep your tracks hidden. We can¡¯t afford to let House Walker¡¯s burgeoning leadership know how much we¡¯re doing for them. They need to build up trust in themselves if they¡¯re ever going to accomplish anything.¡± A dour-looking evaluator added, ¡°This is a delicate time for any house. Right after a founding, many entrenched powers will do everything they can to pull them down. Having House Verena as a subordinate house will help, as they¡¯ve been preparing for their ascension for years, but House Walker cannot rely on them forever.¡± Iddy, Drew, or maybe it was Dorah replied, ¡°They can¡¯t work against House Walker because House Walker isn¡¯t a house in this city. They can only attack its local support structure, and that means House Verena is the target. As long as we keep foiling their plans against House Verena, House Walker can fight the kobalds without worrying about politics. Lord Walker and his house need to present a strong showing, or any hope of getting quest requests from the other cities will be ruined.¡± Quincy replied firmly, ¡°Leave that to Lord Walker. I¡¯m sure he¡¯ll be able to handle the fighting. That Averett woman is managing his forces well, and I doubt she has any intention of embarrassing herself with a failure on her record. That woman will be a powerful figure in her own time. Legends will be spoken of Walker¡¯s hands just as much they will be speaking about him. People will remember the name, Cathleen Averett.¡± For Nero, it was odd to see the normally kind and docile Quincy looking all superior and serious. Typically the man¡¯s essence field radiated warmth and trust¡­ not dominance. Seeing the man skillfully adjust how he was perceived by those around him was suddenly giving Nero¡­ ideas. While he¡¯d known about the evaluators leaving their jobs to follow him, he hadn¡¯t thought much about what they¡¯d been up to. They¡¯d not been part of the formal oath-giving ceremony and had basically joined him through paperwork. Vera had tried to explain to him the details, but he¡¯d found the whole thing too complicated and culturally weird¡­ not to mention that every time he heard about people giving him everything they owned and pledging their loyalty to him it gave him heartburn. Keeping himself hidden, he turned away from the secret council of support he¡¯d discovered. He didn¡¯t know why they were so intent on hiding themselves, but as long as they were working for the betterment of his house¡­ which it sounded like they were¡­ then he¡¯d just as soon stay out of it. Despite his name being on the letterhead, he didn¡¯t feel like it was his place to pry. ¡®Don¡¯t lie to yourself¡­ you just don¡¯t care enough to get involved, which you¡¯d have to if they knew you were aware of what they were doing,¡¯ he mentally mocked himself for his laziness. Returning to his assigned wagon while still in the ¡®stealth¡¯ technique he¡¯d been abusing, Nero hopped back up under the canvas covering. Seeing Nick sitting in the wagon alongside Archmage Jennings, Nero unconsciously stopped paying attention¡­ ruining his hold on his essence field. Seeing him appear out of nowhere, Nick¡¯s head whipped around to stare at him. Archmage Jennings on the other hand didn¡¯t look in the least bit surprised to see him. ¡°What the hell are you two doing here? You know what¡­ nevermind. I¡¯ve got a book I want to finish before we head to the mountain,¡± Nero declared, before waving offhandedly and adding, ¡°Go about your business, pretend I¡¯m not even here.¡± Ignoring the looks on their faces, Nero pulled out the wooden stump he¡¯d been carrying around for who knows how long and took his seat. Decisively crossing his feet up on the stump, he closed his eyes and tried to return to his book. Archmage Jennings¡¯ voice interrupted him before he could even begin. ¡°Nero, we need to have a discussion about the dwarves. They¡¯ve sent a team to fight with House Walker, and they¡¯ve made it clear that they¡¯re only here for you. They didn¡¯t hesitate to let the nobles and army command know that they couldn¡¯t care less about whether or not we humans succeed in our attempts to retake the mountain city. Apparently, King Mithrilspike made a promise to you?¡± he finished as though it was a question, but Nero could tell that it really wasn¡¯t one. Opening one eye to glare at the archmage, Nero replied, ¡°I don¡¯t remember any promise about dwarves fighting with me.¡± Suddenly remembering some of the conversations he¡¯d had with the dwarves while they¡¯d been drinking with each other¡­ he added, ¡°Oh, never mind. But that was just the beer talking. Don¡¯t worry¡­ I¡¯ll talk to them. It¡¯ll be fine.¡± Both Archmage Jennings and Nick exchanged a knowing look that set Nero¡¯s danger sense off. ¡°Don¡¯t do that! I said it¡¯ll be fine. I can handle the dwarves, and Cathleen will be happy to have the extra manpower¡­ dwarfpower¡­ whatever. We can talk about it when she gets here, she¡¯s busy getting everyone moving, and until then, I¡¯m gonna work on finishing this book. There¡¯s a section in here about adding the property of burning to water spells without vaporizing it. So, I¡¯m busy,¡± he declared firmly before crossing his arms in a huff and closing his eyes to concentrate on his book. Chapter 243 - Why worry? Leaning back in her chair, Lord Heleema Cosgrave sighed heavily. ¡°And why do you believe that the dwarves won¡¯t be honoring the agreement?¡± The aide alongside Lord Renard said firmly, ¡°Twenty dwarves under the command of King Mithralstrike¡¯s right hand arrived less than an hour ago at the mountain gate. According to the dwarf, Crusher, they¡¯re there to honor the agreement they had with Lord Walker.¡± Lord Renard, sounding both annoyed and outraged, added, ¡°We won¡¯t stand for it! A lot of us put a great deal of effort into getting everything in place in a short amount of time to honor the agreement the capital reached with the dwarven council, and we expect those bearded bastards to honor it in turn! They¡¯ve been burning through essence crystals to bring in more of their kind, and wasting our resources left and right.¡± Lord Cosgrave looked out at the group of assembled nobles and their aides, thinking to herself that things were slowly spiraling out of her control. If the nobles here ignored the edict declaring House Warfare suspended, then the Tower of Law would certainly call in the Populators to act as adjudicators¡­ which was absolutely the last thing she needed to be dealing with at the moment. Trying to keep the tone in the room calm, she did what she could with her presence in the ether. While everyone of some standing had similar abilities and would be aware of what she was doing, they would at least recognize what she was trying to accomplish. ¡°I understand your concerns, but you need to understand that I cannot control what the dwarves will do. I¡¯m sure you¡¯ve all done your research and know what they¡¯re like. I can assure you that they will live up to the agreement, and trade contracts with them will be distributed accordingly. I¡¯m sure the agreement in question that they reached with Lord Walker, specifically the one that they are talking about was NOT the one which made him and his local ties their sole contact,¡± she said placatingly, making it clear that their interests would not be ignored. Another lord, Lord Mosgrave, stepped forward. ¡°You say that, but how can you be sure? House Verena, with the support of House Walker, has already taken control of almost 60% of the city¡¯s shipping capacity. Even with the exterior shipping lines being cut off due to the density shift, they are still growing. With their new trading houses and manufacturing concerns they acquired after your consort tried to kill Lord Walker, they are economically more powerful than their status deserves. As the lord of the city, you¡¯re required to monitor the ladder and keep things in balance. House Verena doesn¡¯t have the numbers to cover what they¡¯re trying to do. We need actions¡­ not words,¡± he said gravely. Lord Cosgrave knew House Verena, having recently acquired almost all of House Walker¡¯s local assets, was now disproportionately economically powerful. Through chance and fate, a house that hadn¡¯t existed during the last ladder evaluation was now a powerful force in the city''s political field. Its rise was both unprecedented and awkward. The city and its political system needed time to fit them into the existing structure. Standing up from her chair, she removed any trace of kindness from her face, which already hadn¡¯t been all that much. Glaring at everyone in the room, she said, ¡°I said that I understood your concerns, and I do. If you wish me to act, then I will. Ordering an immediate revaluation of the ladder¡¯s standings is within my power. Is that what you want? During a war? How many towns and villages under your control are currently vacant? How many of your holdings are currently showing losses? House Verena is making money hand over fist, and their people are happy. Do you think they don¡¯t deserve the success that they¡¯ve had? They are tied to a unique! Ignore for the moment the fact that House Walker wasn¡¯t even on our ladder long enough to be evaluated, and think about how quickly Lord Walker rose to power! I for one will not forget the fact that both my heirs and one of my former consorts took it upon themselves to try and stop his rise and are now dead. Do any of you think you can do better? Violate the noble war suppression edict, and see what happens. I will ensure that the dwarves honor the agreement with the capital, as I¡¯ve said I would. Beyond that, if you wish to fight House Verena economically, I can¡¯t stop you. But, bear in mind, that you need to stay within the bounds of the law. House Verena is run by Lady Salvatore-Verena, and I very much would like to see how that goes for you.¡± Turning her attention to the new Lord Blackwood who was standing off to the side, and a little to the back of the group, she added, ¡°I believe House Blackwood can attest to how unlikely your success in that arena might turn out to be.¡± ¡ª-- Nero probably should have been more surprised than he was when the war caravan finished getting ready in short order. He¡¯d known that he¡¯d somehow acquired an abnormally competent group of people to run House Walker for him, but he still frequently underestimated them. Whether it was due to him not being used to people being good at their jobs, or just basing his estimated timetables on how long it would take for him to do anything¡­ that wasn¡¯t a particular thread he wanted to pull. He¡¯d barely gotten through a chapter of his book when Knight Angleton, Natalie Keening, and three other people hopped up into the back of the wagon with him, Nick, and Archmage Jennings. Before they even had a chance to find their seats, Nero felt as much as heard Cathleen¡¯s voice carry through the ether. ¡°Move Out!¡± her disembodied voice shouted, echoing through his head like an earworm. Rubbing his temples, Nero closed the connection to the link he¡¯d had opened. ¡°What in the hell was that? Damned woman¡¯s a menace,¡± he muttered under his breath in a rhetorical whisper. While everyone was busy chattering away, being all serious, Nick heard his muttering and replied, ¡°Battle-field essence projection. It¡¯s a useful skill for when battle hubs and essence connections haven¡¯t been set up. It¡¯s not all that different than how you can essence project your voice with intent. Typically, essence connections are a skill developed in the South, as the North tends to be very direct with their skill focus. Interestingly, battle-field essence projection has found a place among sub-commanders and sergeants who are tasked with -¡± Interrupting him, Archmage Jennings said, ¡°I don¡¯t believe he was asking for the history of the skills development. He¡¯s just complaining about the resonance he felt due to the fact that he was connecting too deeply to the ambient essence flows.¡± Nick, ever helpful, said, ¡°Oh, right. Nero, you need to remember that when you¡¯re laying your presence over a wide area to keep your touch light. Holding on to that much essence isn¡¯t practical at your level, or any level for that matter. Sensing should be limited to just spreading out your awareness, not your control.¡± One of the people Nero didn¡¯t recognize joined in on the conversation. ¡°Lord Walker, if I may? As a skilled sensor, I¡¯ve found that only overlaying my presence when I need to is the correct approach when I¡¯m not actively scanning for threats. You should only push your limits when you¡¯re training, otherwise you won¡¯t be able to keep up with your control skill levels.¡± Nick added, ¡°That¡¯s right, you don¡¯t want your range to exceed your control. How are your skill levels in essence monitoring in relation to your range?¡± Nero, having very rarely if ever, bothered looking at his skill panel, replied awkwardly, ¡°Um¡­ they¡¯re fine. I haven¡¯t really touched too much on the skill stuff just yet. Don¡¯t worry, it¡¯s on the list of things I need to read about.¡± Archmage Jennings, sensing that the conversation was quickly turning into an impromptu lecture, stepped in. ¡°We can discuss how to assess and manage your skills at a later date. Now that we have your attention, we need to talk about the dwarves.¡± Knight Angleton, suddenly pausing the conversation he was having with the two people next to him said, ¡°What about the dwarves?¡± As the wagon was designed with two opposing rows of seating facing each other, Knight Angleton was able to lean himself over the middle imposingly. Nero, being seated next to the archmage with Nick across from him, felt surrounded. ¡®All I wanted to do was have a few hours of rest before we showed up at the mountain to do some reading. These people need to learn to lighten up,¡¯ he thought to himself. His voice was utterly serious when Archmage Jennings met Knight Angleton¡¯s eyes and said, ¡°The dwarves have sent a small contingent to join House Walker during their push into the upper mountain. It seems King Mithrilstrike has decided to honor his pledge to aid House Walker in its fight against the kobalds.¡± Seemingly unhappy with the development, Knight Angleton asked, ¡°I thought the dwarves were going to be too busy to get involved? Don¡¯t they have a city to build, and their own mountain to defend?¡± Archmage Jennings nodded and replied, ¡°They do, but I believe King Mithrilstrike wants to make his intentions to honor the pact he made with House Walker despite circumstances not allowing him to.¡± Scowling, Knight Angleton asked, ¡°Where did they get the available warriors? Wasn¡¯t their contingent too small to spare anyone?¡± Nick added, ¡°Until they get their dwarven essence tunnels set up, they won¡¯t be bringing any of their citizenry over.¡± Offhandedly correcting him, Archmage Jennings said, ¡°They call them rune tunnels, and they don¡¯t have any set up yet. The troops they¡¯ve brought over came from the capital. They¡¯ve been portalling dwarves over every few hours since they arrived. The essence crystal cost is being afforded to them on credit as part of the agreement they reached with the kingdom.¡± ¡°Does the city have that many essence crystals to spare with everything that¡¯s going on?¡± asked one of the people Nero didn¡¯t recognize. Glancing over at her, Nero thought the woman looked ¡®hard¡¯. She was definitely a fighter, and most likely one of the elites that used to be part of Kinght Angleton¡¯s forces when they were still under the army. It was at times like this that Nero realized how ridiculous that people like her had chosen to ¡®follow¡¯ him. Knight Angleton and his people had agreed to give up everything to join House Walker, and he really didn¡¯t understand why. Responding to her question, Archmage Jennings replied, ¡°It doesn¡¯t matter if they do or not. The city is required by law to honor the agreement. In time, they¡¯ll be reimbursed.¡± The woman replied angrily, ¡°Time the city may not have. Those essence crystals would be better spent in service of the war, not in bringing over dwarves for a city that may someday in the future provide economic value.¡± Archmage Jennings sighed and replied, ¡°I¡¯m not disagreeing with you. Furthermore, that leads rather smoothly into my point.¡± Turning to address Nero, he said, ¡°Dwarves by their very nature tend to go wherever they want. Right now, that is with you. Whatever you did to make them like you, it worked.¡± Nero, surprised at the turn in conversation replied, ¡°What do you mean ¡®whatever I did¡¯, you were watching the whole time. All I did was offer them a few beers and teach them a drinking game. If they¡¯re inserting themselves into the war to help us, I don¡¯t see how that is my fault¡­ let alone a bad thing. I say let them.¡±If you come across this story on Amazon, be aware that it has been stolen from Royal Road. Please report it. Knight Angleton said, ¡°It¡¯s not that simple, my lord. Dwarves are not a controllable factor. They¡¯ll do what they want, where they want, how they want. Everyone knows this. The last thing we need is them interfering with our operations.¡± Archmage Jennings added, ¡°That¡¯s correct, Nero. As the reason they¡¯re here, you¡¯ll need to keep them from causing any problems.¡± Nero looked around the rumbling wagon as everyone swayed a little from the ride, surprised to see everyone staring at him in silence, seemingly waiting for him to say something encouraging. ¡°Um, sure, I¡¯ll talk to them. But what is it exactly that you¡¯re worried about? It seems like you¡¯re expecting them to blow up the mountain or something.¡± Nero said with some worry. Nick offered Nero the required explanation. ¡°Not exactly, but dwarves are known to think differently than humans. They tend to ignore anyone¡¯s opinion but their own. Historically, when humans and dwarves work together, there is a great deal of tension. Dwarves don¡¯t listen to anyone¡¯s orders but their own. They are, at best, an unstable factor on the battlefield, and at worst, a problem needing to be worked around.¡± Archmage Jennings added, ¡°Dwarves are not humans, and normally don¡¯t particularly like them. The fact that you managed to forge any sort of relationship in a single afternoon is surprise enough, but having them pledge to defend your house as an ally as if you were a friendly clan they want to support is so out of character for them that it has people worried.¡± Nero replied quickly, ¡°You mean nobles. The nobles are worried.¡± Archmage Jennings replied, ¡°Yes, Nero. The nobles. They just interfered with the trading agreement you reached with the dwarves, and now see the dwarves honoring what they think may have been part of that agreement. Various people, including the city lord, have tried to reassure them that the agreement the dwarves had reached with the capital is still in effect, but I doubt very much any of them are comforted by that fact. They know as well as anyone that the dwarves will interpret things however they want.¡± Nero frowned, for some reason rather insulted at the implication that dwarves may be less than honest in their dealing with humans. ¡°They didn¡¯t strike me as all that untrustworthy. I think the nobles may be projecting a bit there on that one.¡± ¡°It¡¯s not a matter of dwarves being untrustworthy. The agreement the dwarven council of kings reached with the kingdom is set in stone. However, King Mithrilstrike¡¯s mind is his own. Every dwarven king is like that. He¡¯d honor the agreement to the letter if everything had gone smoothly. However, with you having had to agree to some bureaucracy in order for that agreement to still be valid, he may choose to ignore it. I can¡¯t stress to you how much that might anger the nobles. I shouldn¡¯t have to explain to you why the idea of you and your allies being the only trading partner with the dwarves is untenable, do I?¡± he asked angrily. Nero, not intimidated, replied, ¡°No, I get it. The dwarves were supposed to be a trading partner for the whole city, and that offhanded proposal I had to trade the mountain for exclusive trading rights screwed that up. I still don¡¯t see how any of this is my fault. I agreed to the paperwork nonsense that backdated¡­ updated¡­ or reworked the land rights however the local council of leadership wanted. What else could they possibly want from me?¡± Archmage Jennings replied, ¡°They want you not to develop such a close relationship with the dwarves! The dwarves are supposed to be partners with the city, not just House Walker. You¡¯re not even a local house, can you really blame them? After you leave Dorchester, your local representative, House Verena, will become too powerful if they manage to become the sole trading partner of an entire city that is barely two days'' travel away from here. The local nobility will have no choice but to declare a noble war and wipe House Verena out, if only so that they don¡¯t completely lose control of the situation.¡± Nero nodded in understanding while rubbing his chin in thought. ¡°Yeah, that would be bad. But what am I supposed to do to? I already agreed not to be the only go between the dwarves and the city.¡± Nick, who as the Lord of House Verena seemed suddenly very invested in the conversation replied, ¡°You need to make it clear to the dwarves that you both value their friendship and respect their choice to help House Walker fight the kobald threat, but you cannot be their only trading partner. The agreement the council of kings had with the kingdom MUST stand. Otherwise, the local nobility will come together and crush us. They might not be able to act right now, as under the law the city is at war, but once the kobald threat is handled, they¡¯ll have free reign to kill off your connection to the city¡­ which is House Verena.¡± Nero, uncharacteristically serious, replied, ¡°They¡¯d really wipe out your house in retaliation for this?¡± Nodding, Nick replied, ¡°They¡¯d kill us all to stop us from rising that quickly, and they¡¯d have every right to. An economic advantage like that is too much for them to put up with. We¡¯d have to fight for control of the city, remaking it as our own in the process. House Verena isn¡¯t nearly ready for that level of a fight. All together, we barely have 30,000 troops. We¡¯d be massacred.¡± Raising his eyebrows in surprise, Nero stuttered, ¡°You have 30,000 troops?!?¡± Nodding, Nick replied calmly, ¡°Between the guards and forces working multiple duties, yes. Vera has been slowly building up our forces for years in preparation for when I took up my lordship. You¡¯ve pushed her to act quicker than she¡¯d like, but she¡¯s handling it. But if you can¡¯t get the dwarves to live up to their side of the agreement with the city, her preparations won¡¯t be enough to save us.¡± Thinking about it, Nero figured many of the ¡®troops¡¯ Nick was talking about were probably the guards and people Vera had running the Precision shipping company. They were spread out over the entire city, and when put in relation to how large the city was, that actually didn¡¯t sound like that many. The city was huge¡­ like Rhode Island huge. Or at least he thought it was, he¡¯d never had a comprehensive understanding how how large a space it actually took up. The one time he¡¯d seen Nick present it as a model he couldn¡¯t accurately conceptualize what he was looking at. Rubbing his temples, Nero asked, ¡°And how many people or troops do I have now?¡± Knight Angleton replied, ¡°All together? Probably around 800. 1500 if you include the mercenary and guard forces on joint assignment with House Verena. However, most of those are either out working as hunters or guards.¡± Nero, utterly and completely confused, said, ¡°I don¡¯t remember there being nearly that many people at the ceremony thing we just held. Were there?¡± Nick, along with the others chuckled awkwardly, before saying, ¡°Nero, those who took the oath in front of you at the ceremony were various levels of adherents. Almost all of them will be with you for life. Very few of them will be staying here in Dorchester to manage your estate.¡± Knight Angleton added, ¡°We who took the life oath will be fighting and serving you wherever you travel. Other than our service to House Walker, there is nothing more for us. We will not found our own houses, earn titles, or do anything other than serve House Walker. Local forces are what would be used in a noble war, as they are the ones who could affect local politics. While you could deploy us to act in support of your sub-house, House Verena, we could not raise House Walker¡¯s position in the city, because it has none.¡± Nero, somewhat understanding what they were saying, tried another angle. ¡°I get that, I do. You¡¯ve all made that abundantly clear to me. What I¡¯m asking is that if I have so many people under House Walker, then why are there only a couple hundred people going with us to the mountain? And how many people or troops is the army sending alongside us? Aren¡¯t there only like three tunnels going into the upper city?¡± Many people in the wagon exchanged awkward looks, making Nero feel like he¡¯d been missing something. Archmage Jennings said, ¡°Nero, House Walker is only bringing around 300 troops because the others are all either not suited for this type of combat or busy doing other things for House Walker. You and your forces aren¡¯t expected to clear out the entire upper city on your own. Yes, there are three main tunnels to the upper city, but there are countless other small tunnels that connect everything. Just in the upper city, the army will be deploying at least 100,000 troops at the minimum. You still don¡¯t understand the size of the city you are in, do you?¡± Shocked, Nero remembered how large the battle with the kobalds on the surface was. There were troops all over the place, as far as he could see at the time. The numbers were too high for him to estimate, so he hadn¡¯t bothered trying to think about it. Rubbing his hands over his face, he asked helplessly, ¡°Then why does House Walker¡¯s measly 300 troops matter at all, let alone the fact that we¡¯ll have some dwarves with us? We¡¯ll barely make up a fraction of a fraction of the forces the city is sending out. We had the whole meeting thing with the commander of the entire freaking army?!? Why did he need to personally get involved at all? We¡¯re just small time.¡± Archmage Jennings replied, ¡°Yes, your forces are small, but your position is not. As a unique, you¡¯re on a quest for the city. Despite you not supposed to be having a large impact on the fighting, considering what you did to the kobald forces in the last battle, can you honestly expect the local forces not to consider you a person of note?¡± Waving away the backhanded compliment, Nero replied, ¡°That thing with the essence explosion was just an accident. I sure as hell won¡¯t be doing that again¡­ I barely understand how I did it in the first place.¡± Archmage Jennings replied, ¡°We¡¯re getting off-topic. The point is, you have to get the dwarves to acknowledge that they¡¯ll stick to the trading agreement the council of kings set up with the kingdom. If you don¡¯t¡­ I don¡¯t know that I¡¯ll be able to stop them from eventually destroying House Verena and cutting off your local ties. Without that support, your house will not be able to support itself and will have to return to Hennings and take up quests directly from the capital.¡± Waving his arms in annoyance, Nero said loudly, ¡°But I¡¯ve never even BEEN to Hennings. How am I supposed to ¡®return¡¯ there!¡± Nick, his tone serious, replied, ¡°As a unique, that¡¯s where your citizenship with the kingdom is based, and where your house is from.¡± Nero, now thoroughly pissed at how complicated this conversation has become, declared, ¡°Fine! Whatever! Just stop talking. None of this political crap makes any sense to me. I just want to kill some bad guys and save the day. I¡¯ll handle the dwarves. When we get wherever it is we''re going, I¡¯ll talk to them.¡± Leaning over to look toward the front of the wagon which was hidden behind a wooden barrier, he added, ¡°By the way, how long is this trip going to take? And why aren¡¯t we just teleporting there?¡± Nick, seeing as Nero was no longer interested in listening to anything serious at the moment, replied, ¡°Around 5 hours. The cost to teleport everyone instead of just riding there would be wasteful to the point of idiocy. Luckily, your estate isn¡¯t all that far from the gate attached to the mountain city¡¯s entrance.¡± Nero, spreading out his senses, looked around the environment they were traveling through and gave Nick a blank stare. ¡°We¡¯re still inside the city¡­ right?¡± Nick replied, ¡°Yes.¡± Nero asked, ¡°Then why is there a forest around us?¡± Nick, facepalming, replied, ¡°Because the city is large, Nero.¡± Frowning, Nero asked, ¡°If there is this much open space, then why is everyone talking about a population problem with all the villages evacuating here?¡± Archmage Jennings, looking angrier and more annoyed than usual, replied, ¡°Where do you think the council is trying to put everyone? Demons and Devils from all the hells below, Nero, I know that you aren¡¯t from here¡­ but read a damn book about where you are!¡± With his piece said Jennings flashed in a bright golden light, filling the shaded wagon with enough glare that everyone was forced to cover their eyes. Seeing everyone recovering, only to begin staring at him, Nero offered them a shrug before saying, ¡°Well, that was a bit much. I think the stress of his job is finally getting to him. I hope I don¡¯t end up like that when I¡¯m an all-powerful wizard with a tower. If you ask me, he¡¯s being a bit of a drama queen¡­ getting all worked up over people just asking a few questions.¡± Sighing, Nick said, ¡°Nero, you need to learn to start taking some of these things more seriously.¡± Glaring at him, Nero replied, ¡°No I don¡¯t. You all need to learn to lighten up. I¡¯ll handle the dwarf thing, and that will be that. The nobles will always be a problem, and assholes will always be assholes. If I let stuff like this ruin my mood, then I¡¯ll spend all my time worrying about everything. I¡¯m just going to continue focusing on the fact that I¡¯m heading off to war against an army of evil lizards bent on world conquest, preparing my magic powers to fight them, and looking forward to seeing my new friends¡­ the dwarves. 99% of the problems people end up all bent out of shape about are completely out of their hands. If the nobles end up declaring a noble war¡­ I¡¯ll just take you and Vera with me. Screw ¡®em. If they want to handle the dwarves, they¡¯re more than welcome.¡± Turning to look up into the air, Nero added, ¡°And all of you douchebags that are watching can take a message to your employers. Do you think that I won¡¯t burn the bridges behind me when I leave? Try me. The last thing you want is a city of drunken dwarves pissed off at you for ruining the only positive relationship they¡¯ve developed since they arrived here. There aren¡¯t any problems unless you make them. Learn your lessons and stop being such self-involved, ego-meniacal, douchebags!¡± Done ranting, Nero threw his feet back on the stump which had been slid out of the middle of the wagon, and crossed his arms in a huff. ¡°I¡¯m going to get back to my reading, feel free to talk about me while I ignore you,¡± he told everyone. Muttering to himself, he said, ¡°Giant ass cities, run by committee¡­ no surprise they end up talking themselves into wars with each other all the time. Assholes.¡± Chapter 244 - Realizing how small he is. Crusher and his dwarves had taken over a corner of the square where they¡¯d been told House Walker would arrive. Leaning against one of the make-shift war wagons they¡¯d built the night before, he thought about what his king had told him. Neither he nor anyone else liked how the local ¡®nobility¡¯ had handled House Walker. Interfering with clan politics was considered extremely rude in dwarven culture, and demanding a newly founded clan to give up its rightful position during a negotiation was grounds for a clan war. Lord Walker was well within his rights to tell them to shove their agreements up their asses and take a walk. It was his mountain they were arguing over after all. While the humans had ¡®fixed¡¯ the paperwork, and made everything legal, King Mithrilstrike and the clan understood what had really happened. The local nobility had strongarmed the lad into giving his mountain away. Nobody but the local nobility was happy about the outcome. The young lord stomping off after kicking everyone out was practically proof of their suspicions. These human nobles were not to be trusted. After returning to their rooms, Crusher himself had spoken up for the young lord. He seemed like one of the rare humans that they could get along with, and Crusher recommended that the king keep up the relationship. Luckily enough, the king had agreed. He¡¯d ordered Crusher and a few warriors to tag along with the lad and see how he handled himself in a fight. If he proved half as worthy with a blade as he did with a mug, then he was a human worth knowing. Besides, this way, the clan would get to see how the humans were in a fight. Most of them had never seen a human before they¡¯d come to their lands, let alone seen him fight. They were all curious as to how true the tales were. Rolling his shoulders to relieve some of the boredom, he glanced at his assembled force, happy to see them handling being above ground well. None of them seemed put off by the open air, or worried about the crowds of human soldiers around them. He¡¯d picked them all personally from the clan¡¯s limited forces, and it was good to see that his judgment had been proven correct. He wasn¡¯t sure how long it would take to form his opinion of the lad, but he intended to stick close to him until he could be confident in his report. The king wanted him to learn about these humans and especially this House Walker, and Crusher intended to learn everything he could. ¡ª-- Nero hadn¡¯t read all that many books on any subject yet, but he¡¯d read several ¡®comprehensive¡¯ texts on essence and magic in general. He knew a bit about a bit, and between what he¡¯d learned from Nick and Jennings, he believed he knew enough to understand what he was reading. And what he was reading was beginning to piss him off. One thing that had been central to all video games, fantasy novels, gamelit, litrpg, and tabletop worlds he¡¯d played back on Earth was that the rules were simple. Even complicated magic systems inherently had core aspects that were easy to understand and follow. In many ways, the worlds these authors and creators imagined were much easier to comprehend than real life. Unfortunately, Nero didn¡¯t find this world¡¯s magic system anything close to simple. Every chapter, every rule¡­ they all had exceptions or qualifiers. According to what he was reading, if he wanted to understand the core principles of magic, he¡¯d have to delve into ethereal physics and planar dynamics among numerous other subjects. The more he read, the more he realized that this world was just built on different principles than the one he was used to. Of course, that realization also forced him to confront the fact that he hadn¡¯t understood his old world all that well to begin with. He understood the basic concepts of things like gravity and light¡­ he had gone to high school. But, he¡¯d never wrapped his head around the application of any of those concepts. Hell, no one had. Humans didn¡¯t have the ability to interact with those forces without machines acting as a go-between. And no one had built anything that could affect primal forces like gravity or mass¡­ or at least he didn¡¯t think they had. But here, in Oglivarch, magic was all about affecting reality directly. Technically, you didn¡¯t have to understand what you were doing when you created a fireball spellform. You just carved it into the ether with your center, powered it, and then waited for it to do its thing. According to the author of the book he was reading, that was as far as most mages bothered to study. Memorization of hundreds of spell forms and their constituent parts was more than enough for a mage to become ¡®skilled¡¯ in magic. The author made it quite clear how much respect they had for the researchers and spell developers who did the actual work required to build the knowledge base mages used to construct their spells. Opening his eyes a bit to sneak a peek at Nick who was enthusiastically explaining the history behind the mountain city they were on their way to liberate from the kobalds, Nero tried to imagine an army of people like him hiding away in Towers studying the fundamental forces of creation so that spell developers could find new and inventive ways to kill each other. Shaking off the pessimistic thought, Nero chided himself for being unfair to his friend. He needed to remember that this was its own wholly realized world, and was not some fantasy game that worked on a simple system that he would ever understand¡­ or at least not one he¡¯d understand any time soon. And his old world wasn¡¯t any different. People at universities were given grants to study any number of completely bonkers concepts that eventually were turned into things he used every day. Studying wave dynamics and energy projection led to the creation of the household microwave. He hadn¡¯t needed to understand any of what it took to make it, and he could still use it to make Baggle-Bites. ¡®Man¡­ I miss Baggle-Bites,¡¯ he thought to himself with a sigh. Returning to his thoughts, he tried to wrap his head around how convoluted this world was. Nothing was simple, while at the same time, everything was. He could use his abilities to interact and influence the building blocks of reality, but that didn¡¯t make it any easier to understand anything. It was like everyone in the world was born with the natural ability to become a car, while not being gifted with the inherent understanding of how an engine worked. It was more than a little disconcerting. He¡¯d grown up in a society based around the simplification of grander concepts into small discrete analogies that would fit on a Wikipedia page. The fact that summaries wouldn¡¯t be enough here was both hard to comprehend and disheartening. ¡°Just take it one step at a time,¡± he muttered to himself. That was all he could do. Forces of nature were probably just as confusing back home as they were here, but back home he hadn¡¯t needed to understand them. Here, if he wanted to be more than just some guy slinging spells other people developed, he¡¯d have to put in the study hours. He¡¯d have to learn the local equivalent of quantum physics to have a chance in hell of comprehending this world¡¯s version of the grand unified theory. All those times Nick had been lecturing him with detailed explanations that he¡¯d glossed over, Nero should have been listening. It simply wasn¡¯t enough to ¡®get the gist¡¯ if he wanted to be the kind of mage who could rewrite reality to his whims¡­ and he definitely wanted to be the kind of mage who could rewrite reality to his whims. Temporarily setting his book aside, mentally speaking of course, as it was nothing more than a projection in his head from his link, Nero opened his eyes to see how the rest of the people in the wagon were doing. He wasn¡¯t surprised to see that a few were busy either meditating or sleeping, while others were quietly conversing about the upcoming battle and what they were expecting to see. Traveling in a covered wagon wasn¡¯t all that enjoyable from a sightseeing perspective. Spreading out his senses, he noticed that they were no longer in a forest, and were now barrelling down a wide four-lane road that resembled a highway. It was weird to see horse-covered wagons speeding along like cars. Nero had grown used to using his essence field to see what was going on around him and he took a moment to think about how the locals defined the power.If you come across this story on Amazon, be aware that it has been stolen from Royal Road. Please report it. Essence fields were what they called the interaction of a person with the world around them. Whether it was their soul, mind, or body¡­ all of it came together to create their essence fields. Different aspects of it allowed for different things, and they had numerous names for each one of them. When a person was using them to look at stuff, they creatively referred to it as a ¡®perception field¡¯. Nero had found that it was kind of like a giant invisible eyeball that floated around and saw everything within its domain. Unfortunately, he could only ¡®focus¡¯ on one particular area at a time. Whatever he wasn¡¯t looking at directly became sort of fuzzy and unfocused. It was like having a 360-degree view of the world that was separate from his eyesight, with a layered ability to perceive the ether and the material plane all mashed together. Like every subject he¡¯d come across, there were scores of studies done that explained how it worked. It was a combination of his soul¡¯s ability to interact with the ether, along with his mind''s ability to interpret what it was seeing, and his body¡¯s ability to project his influence. Every aspect of a person worked together to form the field and trying to define which part did what in any particular circumstance was confusing as all hell. Like everything else in the world, it was a combination of factors that all worked together to create a technique. Honestly, he wondered whether it was even worth it to study how it worked. ¡®And we¡¯re back to thinking about how complicated everything is here,¡¯ he complained to himself. Being not completely delusional, he had to admit to himself that his tendency to try and simplify things was making things difficult¡­ not to mention making his head hurt. Trying to clear his mind, Nero mentally closed the book he¡¯d been reading. Attempting not to think about anything, he listened to the sound of the wagon wheels flying over the road. It was an odd combination of a car and what he thought a wagon back home probably sounded like. Hours passed as he played with his perception field, learning to ¡®see¡¯ everything while not focusing on anything in particular. It was like trying to learn how to remember what you were seeing out of the corner of your eye¡­ but not really at all. Eventually, the wagon train exited the local version of a highway and he started seeing people again. The sheer scale of the city was still mind-boggling to him. It was hard for him to keep in mind that everything he was looking at was inside a giant wall that surrounded millions of people while keeping enough space for entire forests where the rich and powerful could hide their mansions. He wasn¡¯t sure which of the gates they were in, but the architecture he was seeing made it clear it wasn¡¯t like any of the ones he was used to. The buildings seemed simpler, and more uniform. Instead of wood and paint, everything was made of stone. He remembered Nick saying that the areas on the surface had spread out from the mountain city, which had been the first place where the city had begun. Some of these buildings had probably been around for hundreds of years¡­ some of the people probably were too now that he thought about it. All too quickly, the people he was seeing changed from average citizens in commoner-type clothes to robed fancy assholes interspersed among people in armor and tabards. He saw multiple businesses temporarily closed or repurposed for use during the war. Wagons and supplies were being stacked all over the place, and everyone he could see looked busy. Their intensity was even affecting the ether. He could feel it. As the wagon train made its way through the congested streets, Nero noted that more and more soldiers were moving in groups¡­ all in the same direction. Since his perception field didn¡¯t really show him anything outside his essence field, he couldn¡¯t tell where everyone was going. Although, he couldn¡¯t help but assume they were all headed toward the mountain city¡¯s entrance. Nero got to see entire areas being filled with essence cannons and shield generators among other things that he couldn¡¯t identify but that he recognized from his time fighting the kobalds near their tunnel. Engineers and nerdy-looking people swarmed over them, fidgeting and adjusting things in preparation for sending the tools of war into battle. Market squares that most likely normally held farmer''s markets had been turned into mustering fields for soldiers. Rows upon rows of men and women were standing in ranks, listening to their superiors giving last-minute orders from wooden podiums that had been hastily set up. Nero had lost count of how many soldiers he¡¯d seen in the last few minutes. He couldn¡¯t help but wonder what percentage of the local population made up the army. He recalled Nick and Vera saying that there were millions of people living in the city, and that was before half the villages and towns in the surrounding area took refuge behind the walls. How many people were they sending into the mountain to fight? 100,000? 200,000? A million? He had like 300 people. Would his forces even matter? Would he? Shaking off the feeling of insignificance, Nero focused instead on what he was seeing. It was a sight he would hopefully never forget. Hundreds and hundreds of armored fantasy warriors preparing to storm a mountain full of evil plane-invading lizards bent on killing and eating everyone. It was epic. It was awesome. When they¡¯d finally gotten where they were going, the wagons all came to a halt in a line. The horses were almost immediately detached from their harnesses and led away, while he and the rest of House Walker poured out of the back of the wagons like a pimple popping all over the courtyard they¡¯d been assigned. Back under the sun, Nero took a moment to let his eyes adjust as he began looking around. Dropping his jaw, he stared up at the mountain hanging over the city in awe. It was massive, like proper massive. The damn thing took up half the horizon and made him feel tinier than he ever had by comparison. He could see the top of the door to the mountain city over the buildings, and it alone was enough to make him feel inadequate. Never in his life had he seen something so ridiculously massive, and that was including the completely unnecessarily tall walls that surrounded the city. He couldn¡¯t understand what the point was of building doors that big. What could they have possibly been trying to allow for entry? Godzilla? ¡°Lad! Are ya and your clan ready? We¡¯ve been waiting here for hours for ye all to show up!¡± a voice shouted loud enough to overcome the ambient noise going on all around him. Nero turned around to see one of the dwarves he¡¯d met the day before walking up to him, along with two other bearded and armored warriors. Smiling in greeting, Nero replied loudly, ¡°We stopped for breakfast first. Can¡¯t go killing kobalds on an empty stomach, now can we?¡± Walking up to Nero, the dwarf ignored everyone around him to pat him on the back with a laugh. ¡°No, ye can¡¯t. The king¡¯s a dwarf of his word, and he sent us to fight alongside ye. For the duration of this jaunt into the mountain, our axes our yours. So, where will ye have us?¡± Turning his head, Nero located Cathleen who was talking to a group of soldiers who he assumed were army based on their tabards. Gesturing with his hand toward her, he said, ¡°That¡¯s Cathleen Averett, our battle leader. She¡¯s the one who¡¯s going to be running the show, and she¡¯s the one who¡¯s going to give you your orders.¡± Seeing the grimace beginning to form on the dwarf¡¯s face, Nero added, ¡°She knows more about war and killing than I do, and I¡¯m not too proud to follow someone better than me at something. If you¡¯re to fight with us, then you best get used to it too.¡± Nodding his head, the dwarf replied, ¡°Fair enough. But the king told me that we¡¯re to follow you, so where you¡¯re going, we¡¯re going.¡± Nero didn¡¯t bother to argue. Instead, he asked, ¡°How many of you are coming along?¡± The dwarf replied, ¡°Not too many. Most of us have already left for our mountain. Once the rune mages get the tunnel open, the clan will be coming through. Then the king and the warriors will push the kobalds from their end. There are only 50 of us here to fight with ya, and we¡¯ll be staying until our king calls for us to come back. Don¡¯t ya worry though, a dwarf underground is worth ten or twenty humans in a fight. We¡¯ll do our part.¡± Chuckling at the obvious brag, Nero patted the dwarf¡¯s armored shoulder and said, ¡°If you say so. Come on¡­ I¡¯ll introduce you.¡± As he led the dwarf toward Cathleen through the crowd, he asked offhandedly, ¡°By the way, what was your name again? You¡¯re not that guy Phillip or Collin or whatever his name was¡­ are you?¡± The dwarf, seemingly both offended and amused replied, ¡°Crusher, boy. Me name¡¯s Crusher. And you best remember it.¡± Nero nodded with a smile. ¡°Right¡­ Crusher. You look like a Crusher, so remembering that will be easy. Although, if I end up calling you Wesley¡­ don¡¯t be offended. Wesley Crusher was a storied hero from one of my people¡¯s legends back home, and you remind me of him. He didn¡¯t have a beard like yours¡­ but he was just as socially adept and warm as you are.¡± Crusher looked over Nero, his bushy brows furrowed in thought. He couldn¡¯t tell if the young human lad was insulting him or not, and he wasn¡¯t sure if he should be offended. While being compared to a hero sounded good¡­ something about the way the human phrased what he¡¯d said sounded wrong. ¡°Cathleen! Allow me to introduce the great dwarf Crusher. He and his dwarves will be joining us in our kobald hunt. His king has asked him to aid us in our fight,¡± Nero shouted loudly upon arriving near Cathleen and the army folks. Turning around, Cathleen looked down at Nero with some annoyance at being interrupted. ¡°Fine. He and his dwarves will be with you and your team. Find Nick and he¡¯ll show you where to go.¡± Looking around at the congested courtyard they¡¯d taken over, Nero asked, ¡°OK. But can you help me out here and point me in a direction?¡± Cathleen, who¡¯d already returned to her conversation, paused with a sigh. Turning back to Nero she said, ¡°Use your link Nero. You¡¯re still inside Dorchester¡¯s Though Hub¡¯s range. Get with your team¡­ I¡¯m too busy to deal with you right now.¡± Shrugging the cold woman¡¯s dismissal off, Nero turned to Crusher and said, ¡°Well, let¡¯s go find our teammates. Then we can collect your dwarfs and get this party started.¡± Whispering in a tone that sounded like gravel falling through a blender, Crusher asked, ¡°I thought ye humans made your lessers speak with respect? She sounded like a dwarf.¡± Chuckling, Nero replied, ¡°That¡¯s Cathleen in a nutshell. I¡¯m told she¡¯s from the North¡­ whatever that means. Everyone seems to take that as an explanation.¡± Glancing over at the dwarf while Nero led him and his two followers through the crowd, Nero added, ¡°I honestly can¡¯t wait to introduce you to Nick. He¡¯s the most human human you¡¯re probably ever going to meet. I think you¡¯re going to love him¡­ or hate him¡­ either way, it will be funny.¡± Chapter 245 - Off to see the kobalds. Commander Dahl was happy with how quickly the army was adapting to the new operations paradigm. Much happier than he thought he¡¯d be in fact. Over the past day, he¡¯d received over 20 transfers into his command, directed by the grandmaster himself. Each of them had taken over aspects of his responsibilities dealing with briefing the council of leadership and interacting with the nobles. Several were simply there to ward off personal requests he had been constantly receiving through his link. Even better, the chain of command had been verified by the grandmaster and sent out to all the commanders in the city. No longer would different assignments have isolated command structures. There was now just a singular chain of command across the entire army. How that would work in the future with special assignments and differing areas of responsibility he didn¡¯t know¡­ and he no longer needed to care. According to his new orders, he was simply responsible for the war, and nothing else. As the provisional head of the new operational structure, other commanders and subcommanders would be handling all that. Now, all he had to do was focus on winning the war¡­ or at least pushing the kobalds out of the mountain city. While standing at the deployment table at central command, he stared out over the map the dwarves had sent him. The holographic depiction of how many cities the kobalds had built up throughout the mountain range seemingly mocked him with how out of his depth he was. He¡¯d thought he was just fighting the kobalds in the mountain, but this¡­ this was just too much. Their numbers would be practically endless, and if any of those cities had developed portals to the kobalds¡¯ planar home, then they really would be. He needed to clear out the city as quickly as possible, cut off their tunnels, and rebuild the defenses. The density shift was slowly getting worse, and no matter how many hunters arrived, more and more essence disturbances were being allowed to grow. More and more villages and towns were arriving with their supplies, taking refuge behind Dorchester¡¯s walls. Already several isolated areas within Dorchester¡¯s area of influence had been lost to monsters and the beginnings of the beast waves. While the roads weren¡¯t unpassable yet, he knew that time was coming. He had months, maybe a year, but not much longer to get the city prepared for what was coming. Sighing deeply, he thought about how outnumbered they were, how much was against them, and how unlikely their chances were. Firming his resolve, he straightened his back and squared his shoulders. Angrily swiping away the hologram, he changed it to the current display of his army¡¯s progress through the mountain. ¡®One foot in front of the other will get us down our path. There is no obstacle that cannot be overcome,¡¯ he reminded himself firmly. ¡ª-- No matter how many times he¡¯d experienced it, Nero was still amazed at how intuitive the Thought Hub was. With a link in his pocket, he could get answers to any question he wanted. It was no wonder people here were willing to walk around with a piece of metal on their temples, connecting their brains to the local equivalent of a central computer. Although Nero still found the entire process suspect, he could understand the appeal. Using his link, he was able to locate Nick in the mustering square easily. It barely took any effort. Nothing more than a thought request sent to the Thought Hub. After leading Crusher and the two other dwarves through the crowd, Nero found Nick in a serious conversation with Natalie Keening. They were surrounded by a few other people wearing House Walker colors, all of them stoically waiting for the opportunity to go into the mountain and fight for House Walker. Walking up to them, he introduced Crusher to them and then stepped back, eager to see how they¡¯d get along. Just as he¡¯d thought, Nick began immediately assaulting Crusher with questions. The first words out of Nick¡¯s mouth were, ¡®Are you a practitioner of runic magic?¡¯ Before the dwarf could even formulate a reply, Nick was already changing the subject and inquiring about Crusher¡¯s armor, whether it was runically enchanted or simply smithed. While chuckling at the awkwardness, he didn¡¯t want the dwarf too pissed off, so he quickly stepped in. ¡°Hold your questions until the end of the class, Nick. Let¡¯s let Crusher introduce himself and collect the rest of his friends,¡± he said, patting Nick on the shoulder. Crusher looked less than pleased at the moment, so his voice was rather gruff when he stared up at Natalie and asked, ¡°So, ye¡¯re the one who¡¯s gonna be leading our war band?¡± Looking every bit the professional soldier, she replied, ¡°I suppose I am. I¡¯ve been requested to incorporate your forces into mine. Am I to understand that you wish to stay near Lord Walker?¡± Grunting in appreciation of her not wasting words, he replied, ¡°Aye, that I am. I have 50 dwarfs ready for war. Me and a few others will stay near the lad, while you can use the others as ya see fit. I¡¯ll keep an eye on ya though, so you won¡¯t be misusing my warriors¡­ not if ye want to leave this mountain alive.¡± Seeing Natalie¡¯s expression becoming a frown, Nero headed off the totally justified reply by saying, ¡°That¡¯s fine. We¡¯ll treat your warriors the same way we do our own. Until we know how you all fight, we¡¯ll be taking things slow. Have no worries about Ms. Keening here, she knows her business.¡± Nodding gruffly, Crusher replied, ¡°I¡¯m sure she does.¡± Turning away, he added, ¡°I¡¯ll collect my warriors and we can head off.¡± Watching Crusher and the two unnamed dwarves walk away, Nero stepped up next to Natalie and said quietly, ¡°Don¡¯t mind him. Dwarves are just grumpy by nature. Even when laughing they sound like they¡¯re mocking you. Don¡¯t take it personally.¡± Nick, apparently not caring about the tension, asked, ¡°Did you find out if he or any of their warriors are runic casters? I¡¯d like the opportunity to see runic magic in person. From what I understand it is fundamentally different than spell-form-based casting, operating instead on the concept of caster¡¯s intentions and the world¡¯s interpretation of the ethereal carvings.¡± Glancing over at Nick in amusement, Nero said, ¡°Never change, Nick. Never change.¡± Confused, Nick was about to reply when Natalie interrupted him. ¡°Lord Walker, everything is ready for deployment. We¡¯ll be heading in under Knight Angleton¡¯s command. You, Lord Verena, and I will be working together alongside 7 others. I¡¯ve been ordered to incorporate whoever the dwarves would like into our assault team.¡± Nodding in understanding, Nero replied, ¡°Yeah, I took a quick look at the deployment plans. We¡¯re just going to splitting up into teams and clearing rooms unless we find a concentrated area of kobalds. It shouldn¡¯t be a problem to let the dwarves tag along.¡± For the next few minutes, Natalie and Nero went over the specifics. He found it more than a little amusing how she continued to ¡®hint¡¯ at the fact that he needed to listen to her and stay out of the fighting as much as he could. She seemed more than a little concerned that he would just run off and try and clear the mountain out by himself, leaving her to have to explain to Cathleen what he was doing. Honestly, he couldn¡¯t really fault her for her suspicions based on what he did at the battle on the mountain¡¯s surface. However, he did find it funny how uncomfortable she was trying to give him orders. Before long, Crusher showed up with the rest of the dwarves. Together they looked like a rolling wave of shining metal and hair. The moment they arrived, Knight Angleton and a few other serious-looking soldiers appeared alongside them from out of nowhere. He and Crusher seemed to recognize each other the moment their eyes met, probably due to the relative strength of their presence in the ether.Unauthorized usage: this tale is on Amazon without the author''s consent. Report any sightings. It was an interesting sight for Nero to witness with his perception field, as he could practically see their essence fields clashing. While it wasn¡¯t exactly hostile, it was definitely confrontational. Luckily, nothing happened aside from Knight Angleton giving out a few orders and assigning dwarven teams to different troop leaders. The man didn¡¯t even bother to stick around long enough to say hi, and promptly headed off after he was done. Crusher and a few others came over while the other dwarven teams headed off with their new groups. ¡°Alright, so are we ready to get moving?¡± he asked grumpily, apparently unhappy at how long this was taking. Natalie replied quickly, ¡°Almost. We¡¯re just waiting for word from -¡± Pausing midsentence, she turned her head to look out over the courtyard before nodding at nothing. ¡°There it is. We¡¯re heading in now. We¡¯ll be with the first wave. Lord Walker, if you¡¯d please stay close by, I¡¯d appreciate it,¡± she added in a tone sounding less like an order than a request. Sighing in acceptance of the fact that he¡¯d probably just have to get used to the special treatment, he replied, ¡°Sure thing, boss.¡± Despite saying that they were heading right in, it still took around 20 minutes before everything was ready. In addition to the team, which altogether counted as 15¡­ dwarves and humans included¡­ there was a wagon with handles for supplies that had to be dragged by manpower. Nero hesitated to call it a wagon as it was more like an oversized backward wheelbarrow. The one bright side of having to wait for everyone to get moving was that Nero was able to get his first look at a female dwarf. Apparently, two of the dwarves who¡¯d be accompanying them weren¡¯t just beardless. For the most part, female dwarves were indistinguishable from the males. They were still short, wide, and imposing. Their faces, however, were much softer and shapely. That unfortunately didn¡¯t stop them from having the same perma-frown on their faces that every other dwarf did when they were looking around. Nero wasn¡¯t sure if they were just unhappy to be among humans, or if they were always like that. He couldn¡¯t help but wonder how grumpy they were in general, and what a date between dwarves would even look like. The fact that female dwarves even existed was enough to answer some of the questions he¡¯d been thinking about. As a fantasy race, dwarves could have just been birthed from the earth like elementals, or reproduced in any number of weird ways. Being a binary species made them seem instantly more relatable, and Nero wondered how different they really were from humans. While their essence fields and ¡®feeling¡¯ made it clear that they weren¡¯t like him, he could still feel a sense of kinship with them. Something about the way they looked at the world resonated with him¡­ almost more than the humans he¡¯d been living with. Eventually, he ran out of time for serious thoughts as Natalie called for them to move out. Heading toward the mountain, Nero stuck close to her as he¡¯d been asked. Around him, Crusher and his group of four dwarves followed along, while the rest of the team marched in rows of twos. Behind them, two burly-looking wackos dragged the wagon. Nero, spreading out his senses, watched the controlled chaos as more and more groups began organizing themselves. Smiling to himself, he noticed Rose¡¯s presence gliding along silently, weaving her way in between people who didn¡¯t notice her presence. She¡¯d been in the background of his life for a while now, always watching. Now that he¡¯d grown used to noticing people dimming their presence, he had no trouble picking her out of a crowd. While she¡¯d grown quite good at hiding herself, she was no match for his improved ethereal senses. While he walked, he recalled his time in the wilds with Nick and the others. She had always been there, just out of sight, slipping out of his attention and just watching. She¡¯d started off as a spy for the former general and had now agreed to follow him as a wacko. He still didn¡¯t know why. She hadn¡¯t spoken to him about it and hadn¡¯t filled out any forms that he¡¯d been aware of. For all he knew, she was now spying for someone else. Honestly, he didn¡¯t know why the idea of her being around didn¡¯t bother him. He was 90% sure it wasn¡¯t just because she was hot, he just didn¡¯t feel like she was much of a threat¡­ or at least that¡¯s what he kept telling himself. He didn¡¯t know why, but her presence being close by made him smile. ¡°It¡¯s really impressive, isn¡¯t it?¡± Nick asked. Blinking a few times to come out of his thoughts, Nero noticed Nick looking around at the exterior of the entrance in awe. Now that he was closer, he could see how large the Mountain City actually was. ¡®Impressive¡¯ was an understatement. Hundreds of meters across, the entire entryway opened up to a massive chamber that could only loosely be described as a tunnel. Along the sides, there were massive pillars of stone that stretched up to the ceiling. Nero could practically taste the architectural history in the ether. Domed essence lights hung in the air, filling the tunnel with a sense of grandeur and firmness. The place just looked¡­ solid. ¡°When humans first arrived in the area, this is where we lived. The wilds were too dangerous despite the efforts of the Populators to clear them out. Thousands upon thousands of man-hours went into building the Mountain City, creating a safe haven for us to return to while we stretched out above ground. The underground farms and habitats were essential for us for quite some time. It wasn¡¯t until we finished the beginnings of the wall that we dared come out above ground,¡± Nick said, sounding like a tour guide. Nero walked in silence as he stared up at the distant ceiling. He hadn¡¯t been this impressed with anything since he saw the Hoover Damn¡­ and this was just the entryway. Thinking back to the holographic maps he¡¯d seen, he had trouble wrapping his head around how big this place actually was. Supposedly, it went through the entire mountain, both up and down. And now, it was full of kobalds. ¡°Why did you abandon it?¡± Nero asked quietly. Nick, ever helpful when it came to a question¡­ any question, replied, ¡°We no longer needed it. Our population took a massive hit during the failed Dorchen rebellion, and many people who¡¯d lived underground took the opportunity to refill the villages and towns who¡¯d lost people in the fighting. Without the need for the space, the council of leadership decided to turn off the generators and seal the doors. We knew it would be here if we needed it. Even if the density shift hadn¡¯t come, eventually it would have been reopened regardless.¡± A dwarf walking along next to Crusher said from behind them, ¡°Ye lot never should have left the space empty. Unused ruins like these are breeding grounds for dimensional incursions.¡± Looking surprisingly angry, Nick looked over his shoulder and said emphatically, ¡°They¡¯re not ruins! Ruins imply destruction, and there was barely any fighting here.¡± Suddenly losing some fire from his tone, Nick looked around at the areas of the floor which were now blackened by soot due to the conflict, adding, ¡°Or at least there wasn¡¯t. Who knows what the kobalds have done to our history while we built the rest of Dorchester.¡± Sounding almost compassionate, Crusher said, ¡°Don¡¯t ye worry, we¡¯ll see your home cleared out. Ye¡¯ll have your chance to rebuild.¡± Nodding in appreciation of the dwarf¡¯s words, Nick seemed no longer in the mood to talk. Nero on the other hand still had questions. However, he could tell that the man was no longer interested in playing tour guide. Taking advantage of the silence, he spread out his perception field as far as it could go, trying to see through the crowd to estimate what kind of fighting had taken place here. He could see areas of stone that had been rebuilt and remnants of heavy spell effects hanging around in the ether. Nero had a sense that he could delve into them to witness the past, reliving the events that caused them. He almost did just that but was interrupted by the sight of wagon trains being dragged out in the other direction. He could see piles of kobald bodies being brought out, along with more than a few wagons filled with humans. It was easy for him to forget the cost of fighting what with all the healing magic and success he¡¯d had. He thought about asking what they were going to do with all the bodies but thought better of it. There was no reason to put Nick in any worse of a mood than he already was. Time passed as they walked, and Nero thought about what this tunnel must have been like when it was inhabited. It looked more like a massive fairground than an entryway, and he wondered if they used to have stalls arranged up and down the place. There were probably wagons of good heading in and out all day and night, filling the place with commerce and people. Now, there was just a long train of humans heading off to war. ¡®At least someone had the good sense to clean up after all the fighting. I wonder if they used brooms to sweep everything up, or if they have some kind of large-scale cleaning magic to pick up all the blood and whatnot,¡¯ he thought to himself. While they pushed deeper into the mountain, Nero¡¯s thoughts bounced all over the place. From the history of the space, to what kind of fighting they were likely to face, he rarely thought about a singular subject to conclusion. Mentally, he was just wasting time. Eventually, Natalie led them to their first checkpoint. It was through a large door alongside the central tunnel leading to another massive chamber. This one looked like it was once another way to move through the mountain. There were exits all over the place, with stairs and platforms leading off in all kinds of directions. To Nero, it looked like a really humanized anthill. He could just imagine assholes with clipboards at each exit, checking people off as they and their wagons went through. Natalie didn¡¯t bother to stop and check in with anyone, ignoring the army tents and soldiers who were taking a rest. Instead, she led them directly toward one of the exits, splitting off from the wider forces and heading toward their assigned area of operations. It was still about an hour until they met their first kobalds. They¡¯d had to go through multiple tunnels which showed the aftereffects of fighting. Charred walls and broken essence lights gave the entire place the vibe of a horror game mixed with a tabletop RPG. The tunnels were wide as hell and mostly empty. There was no furniture or leftovers of civilization despite how many rooms they checked. It was all just depressingly empty. So, when the front of the 15-man group called out ¡®Contact!¡¯, Nero was happy for the change of pace. Chapter 246 - Indoor Shells. Cathleen looked over the various teams getting ready for deployment with pride. While she hadn¡¯t had all that much time to train them, they were performing admirably. Each and every one of them was dedicated to House Walker¡¯s development and eager to push themselves further along their path. She had always been the type of woman who enjoyed seeing others working hard to improve themselves, and this new challenge¡­ ostensibly leading a new house¡­ was turning out to be everything that she¡¯d hoped it would be. Through her position as House Walker¡¯s viceroy, which is what they called provosts here, she had limited access to the members of House Walker¡¯s Thought Hub records. So, she knew that most of the newly appointed Wacko¡¯s had already taken the time to read through the recommended reading list she¡¯d sent out. Back home in the North, several texts were considered mandatory reading for young warriors. ¡®Walking Your Path¡¯ by Skellig Yaegerburg, ¡®Why We Fight¡¯ by Helen Otorous, and ¡®Earning Your Pride¡¯ by Corine Illius were practically venerated as religious texts among the WarBlades. In time, she knew that these Wackos would become a formidable force, led by a formidable demi-god. Lord Walker may not be much now, but she had faith that he would reach the pinnacle before his time on this plane came to an end. Her task was to make sure he was allowed to develop, helping him stay alive while allowing him room to walk his path. Hopefully, she¡¯d be able to convince him to head North, as her clan was looking for people exactly like him. That was, after all, what she¡¯d been doing in this backwater in the first place. ¡°All teams are reporting ready, Battle Leader,¡± Blackwood said, pulling her out of her thoughts. Nodding, she looked over at the man, once again wondering what someone like him was doing here. His family was practically an enemy of House Walker, but he¡¯d given up his ties to their House and dedicated himself to his new position as a Wacko along with all of Knight Angleton¡¯s other subordinates. While it was possible he just wanted to follow Knight Angleton, she couldn¡¯t help but wonder if he had just embraced the opportunity to walk his own path. ¡°Very good. Send out the call for deployment. We¡¯ll stay together until we reach the forward operating positions. I want all our team leaders to stay in communication over links through our Battle Hub, and relays set up for our private coms,¡± she ordered tersely. Blackwood¡¯s expressionless face nodded before replying, ¡°Yes, Battle Leader.¡± While he turned away to get everyone moving, she isolated a communication channel between her and Natalie Keening, who¡¯d she assigned to watch over Lord Walker and the dwarves. ¡°Any problems?¡± she asked. Natalie replied quickly, ¡°No, Battle Leader. Lord Walker seems to be able to handle the dwarves well enough. Knight Angleton has spread out most of their numbers with the other teams under his command, while their leader and his team will be staying with us. I can confirm that they seem interested in observing Lord Walker, but I haven¡¯t been able to determine why.¡± Replying quickly, Cathleen said, ¡°I believe we¡¯re correct to assume that they¡¯re most likely unhappy with the other nobles and are looking to develop a relationship with House Walker. Their new city will require a local trading partner, and despite what the ¡®agreement¡¯ with the capital entails, they¡¯ll end up doing whatever they want. Like most beings with intelligence, they can see that Lord Walker is special, and likely want more information about him.¡± Natalie Keening was one of the Wackos who¡¯d begun to comprehend the breadth of Lord Walker¡¯s growing legend and was eager to see it blossom. So, she understood what Cathleen was hinting at. ¡°Any change in my orders?¡± she asked. Cathleen replied, ¡°No. Your area of operations should be relatively safe. Just keep an eye on the young lord and let him fight when he wants. I doubt you¡¯ll be able to keep him out of trouble, and your main priority is to support him.¡± ¡°Understood, Battle Leader. I¡¯ll see it done,¡± she promised. Cathleen cut the connection, temporarily putting Lord Walker and his team out of her mind. She had a larger battle to command, and his part would be minimal at best. House Walker needed to make a good showing, and she intended the entire city to hear about its exploits before she was done. ¡ª-- The team of fifteen had spread out a little as the hallways were rather wide. Groups of two had split off to confirm the rooms alongside them were clear, so Nero had been standing alongside Nick behind Natalie on their own. The forward scouts who¡¯d called out were rushing back toward them from the other end of the hallway, looking grim. Both were younger-looking men, wearing leather armor and carrying bows. Their tabards were smaller and tighter than normal, cinched tight with their belts and straps. With their dark cloaks trailing behind them, they blended into the shadows rather well. While the team regrouped in the middle of the hallway, one of the scouts skidded to a stop right in front of Natalie and said in a voice barely louder than a whisper, ¡°We were spotted. Two groups of kobalds are on their way, numbering 50 or 60 together. There are probably more though. From what we could see¡­ there were no mages or casters among them. Four larger kobalds in command.¡± Natalie, not wasting time, called out, ¡°Form ranks.¡± Turning to Crusher, who was still standing behind Nero and Nick, she asked, ¡°How would you prefer to take part in the fighting?¡± Folding his arms, Crusher replied, ¡°We¡¯ll just watch for now. If ye look like ye¡¯re needing help, we¡¯ll step in.¡± Nero, figuring that the dwarf wanted to see how the ¡®humans¡¯ fought, just chuckled to himself in amusement. In no time at all, the melee fighters with shields took up positions in the front, while Nick and two other casters brought up an arched shield of magic over their heads. The ceiling was only 15 or 20 feet tall, so there was plenty of space above them. While their group arranged themselves in an arc covering the entire hallway, Nero stayed back with the dwarves, wondering what his contribution to the fighting should be. No one bothered to tell him what his assignment was, and he was starting to get confused at how everyone was moving around without saying anything. It made no sense that they were all coordinating what they were doing without ever having trained together. Suddenly, he remembered the command channel he had not been privy to during his last battle. ¡®They¡¯re probably all talking to each other over that,¡¯ he reminded himself, feeling like an idiot. Leaning over, he whispered to Crusher, ¡°Hey, you guys on the command channel thing?¡± Crusher turned his head toward him with a frown on his face. ¡°Of course we are? Ye think we¡¯re idiots?¡± Nero¡¯s expression was blank as he stared into the dwarf¡¯s judgmental eyes. ¡°No, I¡¯m sure that you¡¯re not.¡± Mumbling under his breath about asshole dwarves, Nero reached out to Natalie through the ether, wondering if she was the one running the command channel. ¡°Yes, what is it, my lord?¡± she asked, clearly having no trouble multitasking while setting up their defenses. ¡°Um¡­ the command channel thing for the team. Shouldn¡¯t I be on that?¡± he asked, somewhat awkwardly. He could practically feel her confusion as her mind checked something. Turning her attention back to the connection with him she replied, ¡°Yes, my lord. I apologize. I thought you knew that we had a Battle Hub in place with the operations center. Your link should allow you to access our team¡¯s channel. If you¡¯d like, I could act as an intermediary if you¡¯d prefer.¡± Nero, still not having taken the time to read up on how everything worked, replied, ¡°No, that¡¯s fine. I¡¯ll find it.¡± Cutting off the connection quickly, he reached out for the link in his pocket. As usual, he had multiple pings waiting for him. One of which was the request to join the various command channels available to him. It took barely a moment for him to connect with the one for his team, as it was practically vibrating in his head with the demand to link himself up. All at once, he felt the surrounding minds of the team slam into his head like a series of loud presences snuggling up alongside his brain. He could pick out who was who without issue, feeling them all like individual people standing right next to him. ¡°Be sure to keep a watch out for incoming abilities and magic. While we haven¡¯t seen any evidence of that before, we have no idea if these are the same type of kobalds that we¡¯ve faced on the surface. Watch each other¡¯s backs, and keep your center steady,¡± Natalie called out over the command channel. Nero, figuring that he needed to make up for his missing the part where he was assigned a place in the formation, decided that he would contribute by doing what he always does¡­ winging it. Stepping away from the dwarves, he took up position directly in the center of the hallway. Casting his most reliable spell, he raised the floor underneath him in a pillar, allowing him to see what was happening beyond the front of the formation. The scouts sure weren¡¯t lying, as the end of the hallway was already filling with ravenous kobalds intent on killing everything in sight. Isolating the mind of Nick through the command channel, Nero dragged the connection into a private part of his mind. ¡°Hey Nick, not to distract you or anything, but with all the rooms having been cleared out, I figured that this area of the mountain had already been wiped clean of the kobalds. So, what¡¯s the deal with these assholes?¡± he asked. Nick, whose mind was currently focused on maintaining the shield he¡¯d set up with the other casters, replied, ¡°It was. But that doesn¡¯t mean that the kobalds from above aren¡¯t sending out scouting parties to harass us. Our task is to continue to flush them out and thin their numbers now that they aren¡¯t getting reinforcements from the lower floors. This won¡¯t be the last kobald war party that we run into.¡±If you stumble upon this narrative on Amazon, it''s taken without the author''s consent. Report it. Nero nodded in understanding, carefully sending out the appropriate emotion over the connection. ¡°Understood. Do you and the other casters mind if I throw out some spells? I¡¯m confident that I can shoot them out under your shield while not head-shotting anyone.¡± Nick, sounding rather annoyed, replied, ¡°Why? Just wait for your orders.¡± Nero, sounding equally annoyed, replied, ¡°You just expect me to sit here and not do anything?¡± ¡°Isn¡¯t that what you were ordered to do?¡± he asked, somewhat confused. ¡°Was it?¡± Nero replied. ¡°How am I supposed to know?¡± Nick replied. ¡°Because you know stuff? I don¡¯t know¡­ Shut up,¡± Nero replied before cutting the private connection and returning their presence to the rest of the command channel. By the time their conversation finished, the front of the kobald assault had arrived. The small lizards were frothing at the snout, eager to engage in some violence. Like idiots, they didn¡¯t bother with much of a strategy, and instead just threw themselves at the front of the line, hissing and screeching as if a 4-foot-tall lizard could actually intimidate anyone. The frontline fighters responded to the aggression in kind, cutting them down with their swords and axes like they were chopping wood. Off and on, Nero saw abilities going off along the line, various wackos flashing with light in the ether. He saw one wacko¡¯s sword trail fire in the air, leaving lines of destruction hovering like lasers that would cut into any kobald stupid enough to get themselves caught in one. Another had small balls of what looked like bubbles that would explode on contact floating in front of her. There were so many varied ways in which the frontline fighters killed the kobalds that Nero was struggling to keep track of who was doing what. While none of the abilities on their own were all that impressive, together they were enough to rip through the kobalds like paper. One thing was for sure, there were definitely more than 60 of the little bastards. Behind the kobald forces, Nero could see the 7-foot-tall super kobalds directing the little ones. Occasionally, they would hiss and smack a few with the flat of their curved swords, demanding that they hurry it up. To Nero, it looked like they were just herding cats¡­ while being assholes about it. Not having anything to do, as he didn¡¯t want to annoy anyone with his magic, he tried to take a larger view of the battle. From his position on his pillar, he was able to see the shield above them occasionally flaring from deflecting an arrow or two. He didn¡¯t see any kobald spells going off, and Nick and the two casters looked almost bored. Ranged attackers like Rose were using their bows and javelins when they could, firing through the lines directly where there was an opening. They looked like they were running up and down the lines, looking for opportunities to contribute. Muttering under his breath, Nero said to himself, ¡°This is dumb. If this is the extent of what the fighting is going to be like, then I¡¯m going to have to pull out my shield and join the front lines. Otherwise, all I¡¯ll be doing is watching.¡± Since his perception field was spread out wide, he could see the entirety of the hallway, watching everything happen. It was a good thing that he was because he sensed the dwarves assembling themselves quickly into a defensive formation¡­ pointing themselves back toward the way that they came. Confused, Nero turned around to see what they were looking at. While it was outside of his perception field, he could see with his eyes that another horde of kobalds was rushing them. As the hallway was longer than hell, he had a few seconds to wrap his head around what he was seeing. Grinning like a madman, he shouted over the command channel, interrupting what everyone was saying, ¡°Lizards in the rear! Don¡¯t worry, me and the dwarves will take care of them!¡± Already, several arrows were being launched by the running kobalds, falling down onto the dwarves like useless sticks. The dwarves looked like they barely even noticed them. Nero, however, quickly assembled his mage armor. While it wasn¡¯t the super-fantastic-all-encompasing-defense type of mage armor that he¡¯d lucked into before, it was still the standard one that required part of his mind to maintain. Predictably, it was still more than enough to shrug off the few arrows that were heading for him. Nick and the mages altered their shield to arch over the team¡¯s back, cutting Nero off from the dwarves who¡¯d started marching toward the oncoming kobalds. Nero could hear Natalie ordering the lines to change formation, intending to split the defenses. He could tell that the dwarves had no intention of listening to her, and honestly, neither did Nero. Lowering his pillar, he ducked under the shield and jogged after them, calling out over the command channel, ¡°I said don¡¯t worry about it, me and the dwarves got this.¡± Chuckling to himself, he could feel the annoyance and acceptance in Nick¡¯s mind when he focused on him. Natalie on the other hand was freaking out. He tried to send her some calming thoughts but didn¡¯t expect much luck in having her not coming after him. Everything was happening quickly, so he didn¡¯t have a lot of time to wait for things to develop. Instead, he just decided to prove to her that they had it under control. While at a jog behind the dwarves, Nero began casting one of the spell turrets he¡¯d developed while assaulting the kobald encampments. It was a combination of napalm spewing acid-like jelly which should cut off the entire hallway if things worked out as planned. Shouting out loud to the dwarves, he warned them, ¡°Heads up, things are going to get a little hot if you keep pushing forward!¡± Without bothering to wait to see if they would listen to him, Nero fired an arc of death over the dwarves'' heads, starting on one side of the hallway and running it across the floor. Almost immediately, a wall of fire erupted over the ground, cutting the hallway in half. The first bunch of kobalds who were running at full speed didn¡¯t have enough time to stop and slid through the flames at a tumble. Nero kept up his fire-spewing like a sprinkler, running it back and forth across the floor. As his spell was tied to his personal reserves of essence that he¡¯d collected for his shield, he took the time to continually refresh it by pulling in chunks of essence every few seconds. While needing center to keep casting, he tried to focus on maintaining his control. He didn¡¯t want to get in the habit of requiring dead things around him to cast. Theoretically, if he was able to maintain his will, and control his center, he shouldn¡¯t be wasting too much center with simple spells like these. Although, that was just based on his reading and his few classes with Specialist Howard who¡¯d taught him some elemental magic. The idea with center was that it was who you were, and if you kept yourself ¡®centered¡¯ then you could maintain your personal reserves. As you grew stronger, you¡¯d be able to control more essence without taxing yourself. Only when you become too mentally tired should your reserves start to deplete. While that level of skill should arrive around levels 30 or 40 for simple spells like what he was using¡­ Nero took that more as a suggestion than a rule. Archmage Jennings himself said that he should ignore level requirements as they barely applied to him, so Nero figured it was just a matter of training. And what better way to train was there than char-broiling murder lizards? The dwarves, seeing the line of fire erupt in front of them stuttered to a stop, angrily turning to glare at Nero for denying them a fight. Nero was too focused on what he was doing to care. The spell form floating over his shoulder was spewing death by the gallon, filling the hallway with the smell of roasting kobalds. His grin must have been something to see, as the dwarves¡¯ expressions quickly lost some of their heat and instead turned to curiosity. ¡°Come on you stupid iguanas! Daddy¡¯s got some lettuce!¡± Nero shouted in glee. The kobald charge had come to a complete stop, none of them willing to brave the fire which was now burning taller than them. Inside the flames, and in front of the dwarves, kobalds were rolling around on the ground, trying and failing to put themselves out. Nero, checking his center reserves, shrugged at the sight of his center dropping below 90%. Muttering while waving his hands back and forth to continue spreading his sticky flames, he said to himself, ¡°10% isn¡¯t terrible considering how much center I actually put into this stuff.¡± Cutting off the spell, he estimated that the fire should burn for a while on its own. Crusher, stepping up near Nero, said, ¡°Lad, do ye intend to just let them just sit there? Cut off the fire and let us do what we do.¡± While Crusher was speaking, more and more arrows were reigning down on them from over the fire, crashing futilely against his mage armor and the dwarves'' armor. Nero could feel the rest of the team paying attention to what was happening, while still embroiled in the fighting on the other front. Natalie¡¯s presence seemed¡­ proud? While Nick felt smug. Not wanting to mentally dig into what any of that meant for how they probably saw him, instead pulled out a canteen from his personal space and took a swig¡­ blatantly ignoring Crusher who was still staring at him. After he was done taking a long drink of water, and before Crusher lost his temper, Nero pushed the canteen hard into the dwarf¡¯s chest¡­ causing him to grab it reflexively with the hand he wasn¡¯t using to hold his axe. ¡°Here¡­ hold my beer,¡± Nero said with a chuckle. Casting a quick spell to raise up a little pillar to give himself some height, Nero barely stopped himself from laughing out loud at the look on Crusher¡¯s face. Pushing everything unnecessary aside in his mind, he focused on what he intended to do. Reaching out with his essence field, he first collapsed some more essence for his mage armor, before carving one of his shell-hurling turrets above his head. Holding up his hands as if he were welcoming rain, he pulled in some soul stuff to empower his spell. Being careful not to go too far, after all, he didn¡¯t want to cause the ceiling to collapse, he began firing shells out over the flames into the kobald lines. It barely took any center at all as he was relying on the leftover essence from the dead kobalds. There wasn¡¯t a ton to work with, but it didn¡¯t take all that much to empower the shells themselves. His spell form was all him, and his center was fully capable of shaping the shells on its own. The essence from the ether was what was providing the real ¡®oomph¡¯. In fact, with how hard he was concentrating, he doubted he¡¯d be losing much center at all. Like a howitzer going off indoors, the walls shook. Nero didn¡¯t realize it, as he was too focused on what he was doing, but everyone¡­ kobalds, humans, and dwarves included¡­ stopped what they were doing and covered their ears in pain. Eruptions of kobald parts exploded one by one as the shells reached their targets. Nero swung the turret back and forth along the kobald horde, obliterating them in droves and painting the walls with their bodies. It was overkill¡­ a massive and unnecessary destruction of the enemy that was both shocking and awe-inspiring. With a mere ten shells of death, he shattered the kobalds'' resolve, killing their few larger kobalds in the process. The kobalds broke, running back where they came from. Nero lowered his hands and recaptured what little center he could from his spell form. Still grinning from ear to ear, he said, ¡°That was freakin¡¯ awesome.¡± Lowering himself to the ground, he wiggled his finger in his ear and flexed his jaw a few times¡­ trying and failing to get his ears to pop. The sound around him felt muted¡­ like he was underwater. Crusher, who was now standing next to him, was saying something. Looking at the dwarf in confusion, Nero shouted in his face, ¡°What?¡± The dwarf, looking incredibly angry while also impressed, shook Nero by the shoulders and started talking again. Nero, still not understanding anything, glared at him and shouted, ¡°I think my ears are messed up from the blast. Hold the fuck on a second.¡± Carving his go-to spell form for healing, Nero looked into himself, discovering that his eardrums had been perforated by the sound of the explosions. A quick flex of his spell fixed it in no time, returning his sense of sound. ¡°Much better. Now what were you saying?¡± he asked smoothly, a smile reappearing on his face. Crusher, glaring at him while also smiling, said, ¡°I said, are all humans capable of what you just did?¡± Nero shrugged and replied, ¡°I have no idea. I¡¯ve been practicing magic for like a couple of months. I¡¯m sure I still suck at it¡­ so probably.¡± Behind them, he could feel the fighting that was going on with the main force of wackos dying down. The last of the kobalds attempted to retreat while being shot down by the ranged fighters. Nick, who¡¯d now either dropped his shield or more likely had simply disconnected himself from it¡­ as the blue barrier still floated in the air, walked up to them. ¡°No, most humans at Nero¡¯s level can¡¯t do what he just did. Not to mention that anyone who could¡­ wouldn¡¯t. It is both idiotic and impressive that he was able to do so,¡± Nick said with a glare while staring at Nero in accusation. ¡°Idiotic and impressive¡­ Yup¡­ that tracks,¡± Nero replied while watching the last of the flames he¡¯d spread die down. Chapter 247 - All words are made up. Standing near the edge of the overlook on the third level, King Mavros Mithrilstrike looked out over his new mountain city. Although his expression didn¡¯t show it, he was happy. Here, he would rebuild his kingdom and revive his clan. The empty mining town below him had been built by and for humans. There weren¡¯t too many large buildings, and they¡¯d wasted a great deal of time and energy carting in wood from the surface. Most of these buildings would have to be torn down. Especially those poor excuses for ore processing plants they had set up. Human smithing relied on essence crystal forges and smelters, requiring large amounts of energy to even run. Dwarves didn¡¯t have to put up with any of that nonsense and instead used runic magic to power their industry. It was the power of the world that forged their creations. Humans were wasteful and shortsighted. Based on what he was seeing, it was easy to figure out how the town had progressed. Whoever had first inhabited this place had simply chosen the first larger cavern they could find and began setting up camp. From there, they spread out across the cavern floor. Looking over to the walls of the cavern, he guessed the multiple rings of floors overlooking the surface came much later, and only because they had run out of room. Before now, he hadn¡¯t thought much of human stonework, but he had to admit they did a good job creating the basic structure of a central cavern. The floor was well-processed and strong, and the tiers and ramps were carved directly into the walls. Overall it was a large and reasonably well done little town they had built for themselves. The only thing that stood out as odd was the large number of wooden barracks and housing towers that they had built. There were twenty of them arranged in rows, bucking up against all three floors to the cavern¡¯s ceiling. Primarily made out of wood, they were obviously meant to house warriors for some reason¡­ thousands of them. Even more confusing were the nearby caverns that had been cleared out to provide training areas and more housing. Altogether, those structures had changed what had initially been conceived as a mining town into a warrior city. He¡¯d been briefed that the town was wiped out due to the clan¡¯s treason or something, but he refused to believe that there wasn¡¯t an altogether more logical explanation for all these warriors than just preparation for some future battle. Although, It did however explain why the town¡¯s original inhabitants spent so much effort creating the multiple hidden tunnels to the surface¡­ they must have needed a great deal of food from the surface to keep the warriors fed and well hidden. Grumbling under his breath, he whispered, ¡°Stupid humans and their poor city planning.¡± He¡¯d have to tear everything down to the stone. Farming tiers would have to be set up in the side caverns, and the walls completely recarved. The central exit would have to be expanded and a new gate built for the entryway. There was a great deal of work to be done. ¡°Sire, the rune priests are ready to fire up the tunnel,¡± a voice shouted at him from behind him. Turning around, he addressed the warrior who was peeking out from the tunnel, ¡°Good. It¡¯s about time.¡± The warrior waited patiently for Mavros to stomp over, his expression doing nothing to hide his eagerness to see their people again. As Mavros walked past him into the tunnel, he asked, ¡°Did they say why it took so long to path the connection to Umershaed?¡± The warrior walking quickly alongside him explained, ¡°From what I overheard, the initial teams we sent to scout the area wouldn¡¯t let them get started until they cleared the area. They were worried about how dangerous the caverns were based on how many warriors looked to be living there. Also, the destruction and damage to the roads was substantial, not to mention the number of bodies they had to take care of. Whatever happened here was a slaughter. Women, children, and elderly weren¡¯t even spared.¡± Mavros couldn¡¯t argue with the investigative team¡¯s logic, so instead he merely grunted in acknowledgment of the point. Changing the subject, he asked, ¡°Have the runic mages finished setting up the tunnel beacons?¡± The warrior replied, ¡°Yes, sire. They report that the area is clear of any sentients, but they haven¡¯t had time to ward any of the caverns. Defensive teams are on the lookout for now, but we need more warriors to cover the entire area.¡± Once again grunting his understanding, Mavros walked through the tunnel at a brisk pace, eager to get this done. Soon enough, his clan would be coming through and his people would begin working on reshaping his mountain to his needs. For now, the kobalds could wait. Defenses were what were important for now. ¡ª-- After the fires he¡¯d started died down, Nero was able to get a better look at what his spell-shells had accomplished. Kobalds had died by the dozens, and the walls were painted with their remains. It was a gruesome enough spectacle that he didn¡¯t envy whoever¡¯s job it would eventually be to clean it all up. He sure as hell wasn¡¯t going to be the one to do it. While he was looking over the battle¡¯s aftermath, Nick was explaining human mage craft to Crusher and a few dwarves who¡¯d come by to listen in on his impromptu lecture. ¡°It comes down to spell forms for us. We shape our center into functional shapes that interact with the ambient essence to create effects much like your runic magic. The difference is that we aren¡¯t able to affect the essence flows as much as you are with our intent. Although, as you can see, that doesn¡¯t make our magic any weaker, just more specialized,¡± he said while gesturing to the kobalds painted on the walls. Nero had to admit, what he¡¯d done ¡®looked¡¯ impressive. He¡¯d wiped out an entire warband with only a few spells. What Nick didn¡¯t mention was that Nero hadn¡¯t really relied on his own power so much as channeled the leftover soul stuff from the cut-down kobalds the rest of their party had already handled. The only reason it had worked out as well as it had was that the kobalds were all extremely weak. Rubbing his chin in thought, Nero walked away to get a better look at where his shells had hit, leaving the conversing dwarves and Nick behind him. Ignoring the squishy kobald parts and the smell, he gingerly stepped over the corpses and focused on the ground of the hallway. He couldn¡¯t understand why there weren¡¯t holes blown into the stone, or at least some evidence of what he¡¯d done. Not that he hadn¡¯t been careful of how much center he¡¯d been pouring into the spells, but he expected to see at least some damage after what he¡¯d done. Looking around the hallway, he could see that if all the kobald corpses and blood were removed, the hallway would look perfectly fine¡­ aside from a few broken essence lights and some scuff marks. Examining the stone through the ether, he could tell that the stone was much ¡®firmer¡¯ than the kobalds had been. It was almost as if it had been enchanted to ¡®be¡¯ stone. He could tell that it would take a great deal of concentrated effort to affect it. It was no wonder his temporary pillars of stone had been so easy to cast, the stone under his feet was so ¡®stoney¡¯ that his spells had no problem mimicking it. Nodding to himself, he realized that was the crux of the matter. The kobalds weren¡¯t strong enough to stop the spell¡¯s effects, while the stone had been made to endure. Spell casting in this world¡­ at least how the humans did it¡­ was based on three factors, only two of which were in control of the caster. First, there was the spell form which was created by the caster from his own center¡¯s power. It defined how the various essence flows in the ether would be collected and then used. Second, was the amount of power the caster chose to infuse into the essence after it had been collected. That would determine how ¡®real¡¯ the spell was to those who¡¯d end up getting hit with it. Typically, that was determined by how much center the caster dedicated to the spell. The third bit, however, has nothing to do with the caster, and everything to do with the spell¡¯s target. Depending on how strong a target¡¯s essence field was, they might be able to completely ignore a spell effect¡­ just like the stone did. ¡°That was a masterful display of control, my lord,¡± Natalie said from Nero¡¯s right. Startled by her sneaking up on him, Nero glanced over at her and said, ¡°Huh? Oh, right. Thanks. Good job on the other side of the fighting. Everyone¡¯s alright, right?¡± Nodding, Natalie replied, ¡°Yes, there were no casualties. These kobald squads weren¡¯t all that powerful. They didn¡¯t have any mage support or shamans among them.¡± Nero, not really listening to her, was still thinking about the difference in spell effects between what had happened to the kobalds and the stone hallway. He realized it could basically be likened to an application of willpower. Center was like personal willpower made manifest. Stronger people had more and could use it to empower their spells to be more ¡®real¡¯ the more they pumped into them. The more center a person uses, the more they weaken their willpower. It was a three-way battle between the world, the caster, and the spell¡¯s target. The spell itself was just an illusion that the caster was trying to get the other two to believe was real. That also explained how weird center levels were. Center wasn¡¯t exactly a finite source of power, as it was determined by the caster¡¯s strength. The more center a caster used, the harder it was for him to hold on to it. Rubbing his temples at the headache he was getting from trying to wrap his head around all this, he looked over at Natalie and asked, ¡°Hey, how did the kobalds end up sneaking up behind us? Weren¡¯t we clearing everything on the way over here?¡±You might be reading a stolen copy. Visit Royal Road for the authentic version. Natalie nodded, her face becoming serious. ¡°Yes, these hallways should have already been cleared. As I¡¯m sure you noticed, all of the furniture and remnants have been removed, and the hallway scoured clean. There shouldn¡¯t have been anything behind us.¡± ¡°So, where do you think they came from?¡± he asked. ¡°I¡¯m not sure, my lord. But we¡¯re going to find out,¡± she replied, turning to look over at the two scouts who were walking over to her. Offering her a nod, they both sprinted off toward where the extra kobald warband had come from. Nero assumed Natalie must have given them private orders over the battlehub. The rest of the group had been busy stacking up kobald corpses and getting them ready for pickup. Meanwhile, Nick was still busy conversing with the dwarves who seemed more than interested in listening to him talk¡­ as long as the subject of what he was talking about included how humans could cast spells like what they¡¯d seen Nero do. Chuckling to himself, he couldn¡¯t help but feel annoyed that he¡¯d robbed himself of the opportunity to see what the dwarves could do. After all, they were all carrying pretty intimidating weapons, and he doubted they were only using them as a fashion statement. Images of dwarves in Gucci suits and well-groomed beards danced through his head as he amused himself with his imagination. Natalie recaught his attention by saying, ¡°I¡¯ve reported our encounter with local command, and alerted them to the fact that there might be hidden kobald tunnels we¡¯d missed.¡± Shrugging his shoulders, Nero replied, ¡°I¡¯m sure there were. Just let me know if you want me to do anything. This is your show, and I¡¯m just another wacko along for the ride.¡± Offering him a firm nod, Natalie turned around and walked off, obviously using her link to communicate with the troops currently still working on cleanup. Walking over to the group of dwarves and Nick, Nero listened in on what Nick was saying. ¡°... you see, where runic magic borrows power from the world, spell casting requires the mage¡¯s understanding of what they are doing. There is no divine or worldly element to it at all,¡± he stated emphatically. Crusher turned to the dwarf next to him and said, ¡°Ullie, what would it take for a ye to get a spell effect like that?¡± Standing there like a boss in full armor, Ullie rubbed his beard with one hand while he tapped a finger on the hilt of his axe which was casually laid across his shoulder. ¡°I¡¯d need a good 5 minutes to prepare the runes¡­ then maybe another 10 to charge them. Doubt I¡¯d be able to avoid damaging the stonework though.¡± Nick, eager to help, said, ¡°It¡¯s a delicate balance to fill a spell with enough center to damage opponents while keeping the surrounding integrity of the material intact. Nero¡­ I mean Lord Walker was lucky that this entire city was built back when Dorchester¡¯s ambient essence levels were much higher. The stonework here was set in a time when the area was much, much stronger.¡± Nodding along, several dwarves understood what Nick was saying. Even Nero had a general idea of what he was talking about. Over the command channel, Nero heard Natalie call out, ¡°Everyone on me. Victor and Sam found the kobald tunnel.¡± Nero was picking up everyone¡¯s names as circumstances allowed him, and he assumed that Victor and Sam were the scouts he¡¯d seen Natalie send off. When everyone was back together and heading out, Nero looked over his shoulder and chuckled at the sight of the battle they were leaving behind. The more intact kobald bodies had been stacked up along the wall¡­ while the ones that weren¡¯t so ¡®together¡¯ were just shoveled there. The center of the hallway was clear enough, but no one in their right mind would call the place cleaned up. He listened closely as Natalie assigned everyone their positions, discovering that the two mages alongside Nick were named Peter and Merrick¡­ although he didn¡¯t know which one was which. He was surprised to find how many of the warriors were women, not because they were women¡­ it was just that with so many of them in armor he hadn¡¯t noticed. Something about a woman named Claire being covered in blood and gore while wielding a sword and shield just didn¡¯t sit right with him. It was weird, and he wouldn¡¯t say otherwise. After a short ten-minute walk, where Nero was in the middle of the pack along with Nick and the mages, they finally arrived at a door that had one of the scouts, either Sam or Victor, leaning alongside it. Gesturing with his head, he led them into the room after he went in. The other scout was standing near a blank wall, the stone looking the same as every other wall around them. ¡°It¡¯s here,¡± the scout said quietly before pushing his hand through the stone like it wasn¡¯t even there. Nero, surprised, focused his senses on what he was looking at. Where before the wall seemed completely solid, now that he knew it wasn¡¯t, he could ¡®feel¡¯ that something was off with it. His perception field was telling him that the wall was both there and that he shouldn¡¯t bother looking any closer. It was almost a suggestion floating along the essence flows, teasing him with the hint that the other walls were more interesting. Shaking off the suggestion, he pushed his senses deeper, finding the initiation point of the wall¡¯s projection. It was a spell¡­ a spell that had no ¡®heft¡¯ to it. On instinct, or maybe just because it didn¡¯t ¡®look¡¯ right to him, he pressed his mind onto the spell and tried to ¡®fix¡¯ it. It was eerily similar to one of his earthen wall spells that he¡¯d learned, but also not. Almost immediately, the spell unraveled, freeing the essence that had been in the shape of the wall. With his eyes, he could see the wall disappearing, leaving a rough cave tunnel heading off into the dark. It was probably 10 feet around, and roughly circular. The kobalds had just forced their way through the wall and then hidden what they¡¯d done. Nick, turned to Nero and nearly shouted, ¡°How did you do that? You didn¡¯t dispel it¡­ you¡­ broke it? No¡­ you unmade it!¡± Nero, not understanding what Nick was so excited about, replied, ¡°I just futzed with the spell form holding it together. I didn¡¯t mean for it to break, I just wanted to see how they did it. It was like a spell, but not. I don¡¯t even think it was an illusion. I have seen those before, you know.¡± Natalie, not letting the group be distracted, shouted, ¡°Quiet! I have to call this in.¡± While everyone was reforming back into formation, he could tell that Natalie¡¯s attention was currently elsewhere. Interested in what she was saying with command, he looked through his link to see if he had the option to connect with the command channel she was using. When he found it, he connected himself immediately. Smirking to himself, he realized he was getting much better at keeping multiple connections going. He also took the opportunity to remake his mage armor to get some more practice at having more than one thing pulling at his mind. ¡°... was the one who dispelled the illusion. Unfortunately, from what I gathered from Lord Verena, the method isn¡¯t repeatable,¡± Natalie said in a clipped tone. ¡°Is there any way to determine where these hidden tunnels are?¡± a voice Nero didn¡¯t recognize asked. Natalie replied, ¡°Not that we can see. The only reason we found the one we did was because we tracked the group that assaulted us back to it. Even looking right at it, we couldn¡¯t tell it was anything other than a standard wall.¡± Nero flinched when he sensed Cathleen¡¯s presence asserting itself. ¡°That¡¯s unacceptable. We need to get our mages working on a way to determine where these hidden walls are, otherwise, we won¡¯t be able to establish a working perimeter.¡± The conversation was happening quickly, but Nick didn¡¯t seem willing to let Nero listen. Tapping Nero¡¯s shoulder, Nick said in a somewhat demanding tone, ¡°Nero, I¡¯m sure whatever you''re listening to is interesting, but I really need to talk to you.¡± Mentally closing his connection to the command channel, Nero looked over at Nick and asked in confusion, ¡°What?¡± ¡°I need to know how you did that with the illusion. Also, why are you powering an essence shield, do you sense something?¡± he asked while looking nervously at the dark tunnel leading off into the mountain. Nero, allowing his mage armor to dismiss itself, replied, ¡°No, I was just practicing. Don¡¯t worry about it. What did you mean about the illusion? I just told you. That wasn¡¯t an illusion.¡± Nick, now reassured that they weren¡¯t going to be attacked, replied firmly, ¡°Yes, Nero, it was. It was a fabricated reality that influenced the minds of anyone in contact with it. That, by its very definition, is an illusion.¡± Rolling his eyes, Nero said, ¡°OK. Maybe technically or whatever. All I know is that the last time I was in an illusion, it was like an overlay on top of reality¡­ like altering what the world looked like. This, what the kobalds were doing, wasn¡¯t that at all.¡± Nick, now extremely interested, replied, ¡°Alright, then what was it.¡± ¡°It was a spell,¡± Nero replied smugly. Immediately annoyed by Nero¡¯s tone, Nick replied, ¡°I KNOW it was a spell. It was an illusion spell. That doesn¡¯t answer my question!¡± Nero, now confused, replied, ¡°What was the question?¡± Well aware that Nero wasn¡¯t used to the terminology of magic, and often frequently substituted his own, took a calming breath. Keeping his tone devoid of any anger he might be feeling, he said, ¡°Nero, what I¡¯m asking is how you disrupted the spell form¡¯s cohesion. I¡¯m assuming you did something similar with the portal that you closed, as you have an ability to see the ether in a way that I and, as far as I know, no one else can. Spell forms for illusionary spells are typically not able to be seen by anyone other than the caster after they are activated, since they seat themselves into the caster¡¯s mind. Or, in the case of a static emplacement, like a ward scheme or a wall like this, they are distributed throughout the entire illusion. Breaking them typically requires the brute force of a counterspell form or a ritual. So, to be clear, I¡¯m asking about your exact process. What was it you did to disrupt the cohesion of the illusion? You didn¡¯t break it, you unmade it. I need to understand how you did that.¡± Nero, finding a fundamental fault with Nick¡¯s assumptions, ignored the question. ¡°I don¡¯t know how many different ways I can say that it wasn¡¯t an illusion. I don¡¯t know why you never listen to me.¡± Seeing the vein on Nick¡¯s forehead indicating that he was about to blow his top, Nero quickly said, ¡°Remember when we faced those assassins in the forest?¡± Realizing something, Nero added, ¡°No, of course you don¡¯t. You were dead at the time.¡± Waving his hand as if that wasn¡¯t his point, so Nick should disregard it, Nero went on to say, ¡°One of those guys made an illusion of the campsite we were at, just without any of the assassins present. It was identical to the reality underneath it, and almost indistinguishable. I learned how to see past illusions then, and I¡¯m telling you for a fact, that this here wall¡­ it wasn¡¯t an illusion¡­ it was more like a ¡®mud wall¡¯ spell¡­ or I guess a ¡®stone wall¡¯ spell.¡± Now looking more intrigued than annoyed Nick asked, ¡°How do you mean?¡± Running a hand through his hair as he thought out loud, Nero said, ¡°It was like a basic spell that I could recognize, but not sufficiently powered with enough center to be real. It was like a spell that wasn¡¯t doing anything, but also not. I don¡¯t understand exactly how the kobalds did it, but they created a spell for a wall that didn¡¯t make a wall¡­ it just made what looked like a wall. Then, there was another part that I didn¡¯t recognize. It somehow made the wall look uninteresting, or more like not worth investigating. That part, I didn¡¯t get at all. It was like that hiding technique some of you do but in a spell form. I also have no idea how it was powered. It almost looked like it was feeding off the essence flows that were being directed by it.¡± Nick, listening closely to every word Nero said, suddenly widened his eyes. Opening his mouth a few times as if he were unable to voice what he was thinking, he finally managed to get out, ¡°Good! Good! You did well¡­ stay here and don¡¯t move. I have more questions!¡± Before Nero could respond, Nick took off at a run directly for Natalie, shouting, ¡°I need a direct line to the closest Center Research Survey team available. Also, get someone from central command on the connection¡­ and Cathleen¡­ yes, and maybe someone from the mage tower. We need to reconfigure the localized scrying array!¡± Nero, not having any idea what Nick had figured out, decided to ignore him. While the formation of soldiers had placed themselves halfway into the tunnel in order to watch for anything coming through, the dwarves instead were examining where the wall had been broken through. They were running their hands over the cracked stone, occasionally using rune magic and waving their stubby hands around. Nero, not having anything better to do, looked around the room and wondered, where did the kobalds dump the stone, dirt, and crap that they excavated from the wall? Suddenly he found himself chuckling at the image of a group of kobalds sweeping the floor and using dustpans. ¡®Even evil murder lizards have to clean up after themselves,¡¯ he thought to himself happily. Chapter 248 - Why cant things be simple? It was common knowledge that excellence and success are rewarded with responsibility and elevation. So, despite their grumbling and conspiracy theories, Kendra Sterling and David Henderson knew they¡¯d been assigned as Center liaisons to the army survey teams due to their achievements. Having recently been on the team to discover the density shift, and then being among the few survivors of the first kobald attack, they rapidly rose through the ranks. The only problem was that neither of them were particularly enjoying the new positions they found themselves in. Dealing with a war was not what they signed up for. Kendra had joined Center Research to help farmers like her parents. Yes, she enjoyed the scientific aspects of her job, and it was also true that she found the connections and workplace politics stimulating. However, her primary motivation had always been to advance Dorchester¡¯s scientific level to aid the villages and towns outside the wall. David on the other hand was only interested in the science. He was born to be in the lab. While he was proficient with magic, and not unskilled with a spear, it was the study of the planes and how they worked that he loved. Both of them missed their time in Center Research working under Nicholas Salvatore. When he¡¯d left the Center to found his own house, House Verena, they both seriously considered leaving with him. If, in the future, he ever created a research division for his house, they both secretly promised themselves that they¡¯d join him. Although, David wasn¡¯t so secret about his intentions as Kendra already knew about them. Unfortunately, events seemed to be pushing them further and further away from their goals. The war with the kobalds had forced them out of the lab, and any thoughts about their former boss had long since been pushed aside for more immediate concerns. Or at least they had been until command got an urgent ping from Lord Verena, stating that he needed to immediately speak with whoever was in charge of the survey teams. As everyone knew their history with the man, Kendra and David were, of course, brought in. Walking into the meeting room, neither of them knew what the topic of discussion was about, only that they were ordered to be there. Seated at the table were three members of the Tower of Magic, four subcommanders, and two commanders. All of them were speaking quietly but urgently with one another, completely ignoring Kendra and David¡¯s arrival. Taking their seats, Kendra whispered to David, ¡°What do you think this is about?¡± David, ever the stoic, replied, ¡°I¡¯m sure we¡¯ll find out soon enough.¡± He was proven correct as the moment they sat down, the commander at the head of the table stood up. As he did, he activated the table¡¯s communication array, connecting the conference room¡¯s speaker to an active communication channel. ¡°Lord Salvatore-Verena, both the representatives from the Tower of Magic and the survey teams have arrived. You may begin,¡± he declared firmly while leaning over the table imposingly. From the center of the table, Lord Verena¡¯s hurried voice spoke up, ¡°It¡¯s about time!¡± Both Kendra and David shared a surprised look with each other. Without bothering to introduce himself or ask for anyone¡¯s name, Lord Verena just started talking. ¡°You all know that we haven¡¯t been able to figure out how to get through the kobald¡¯s illusions. They are a form of spell weaving that we have never seen before. While we¡¯re sure that the technique is known to the kingdom, our level of development hasn¡¯t earned us the right to utilize the Tower of Magic¡¯s database to learn how to counter it. In short, we¡¯ve been trying to figure it out on our own.¡± The commander, clenching his fist in victory asked, ¡°And you¡¯ve discovered how they¡¯re doing it?!? Outstanding, Lord Verena!¡± Lord Verena¡¯s voice, having been interrupted, paused for a second before replying, ¡°What? Who was that?¡± ¡°This is Commander Hagen, currently assigned as the coordinator between the Tower of Magic and our intelligence efforts,¡± the commander replied quickly. Lord Verena replied, ¡°Of course you are. Now please be quiet. I need to speak with the people who are actually capable of understanding what I¡¯m saying. I just told you that we don¡¯t have the ability to pierce the kobald illusions, and furthermore why it¡¯s so difficult for us to do so. I¡¯m attempting to be brief, so a great deal of what I¡¯m saying will need to be inferred. We don¡¯t have time for me to repeat myself.¡± Kendra couldn¡¯t help but chuckle into her hand at her former boss¡¯s obvious disdain for anyone who dared interrupt one of his lectures. David, having known the man for the longest, wasn¡¯t surprised in the least by his cutting response. Changing his tone as if he fully expected the commander to sit down and shut up, Lord Verena continued, ¡°Now, since we haven¡¯t been able to pierce the kobald illusions on their encampments and what we can assume are subterranean cities, we assumed that we couldn¡¯t pierce ANY of their illusions. However, what if they AREN¡¯T illusions in the strictest sense that we understand them?¡± Both the three mages from the Tower of Magic and Kendra and David exchanged looks of confusion, obviously none of them having any idea what Lord Verena was talking about. ¡°You see¡­ while working to clear out the upper city, my team and I discovered a kobald tunnel that was hidden by using an essence construct with an illusionary overlay. The spell that anchored the effect was not technically an illusion. There was no array, just a powered spell that was actualized by ambient essence flows. While I very much doubt they¡¯re doing the same thing on a grander scale, it¡¯s not inconceivable that they adapted the technique to a powering array anchored to whatever they want hidden,¡± he said while sounding somewhat impressed with their ingenuity. David, suddenly understanding what Lord Verena was getting at, shouted, ¡°If that¡¯s true, then we can interrupt their illusionary effect by simply bypassing it. If we tune our scrying arrays correctly, we can sidestep their so-called ¡°illusion¡± and see what they¡¯re hiding!¡± Sounding surprised, Lord Verena asked, ¡°David? Is that you?¡± Somewhat ashamed at having spoken up without being asked to, he replied quietly, ¡°Yes, my lord. It¡¯s me, and Kendra is here too. Apologies for interrupting.¡± Lord Verena replied happily, ¡°No need young man! It¡¯s good to hear from you. How is the survey team treating you two?¡± Before David could reply, Lord Verena shouted, ¡°Wait! Never mind that now. Let¡¯s keep our focus on the problem at hand.¡± Kendra, having been able to follow along, spoke up, ¡°Of course, Lord Verena. First, we need to recalibrate our scrying arrays for a wider spectrum. We¡¯ll have to fine-tune it as we go to determine at what wavelength the kobald¡¯s spells are working at.¡± David, nodding along, added, ¡°Yes, but we¡¯ll have to be thorough. I very much doubt all of their illusions will be set up by the same mage. Who knows how many signatures we¡¯ll have to isolate.¡± One of the mages interjected, ¡°We¡¯ll have to set up a variable assembly to scan across a large bandwidth until we get a hit with an active spell form. From there, we can isolate the interference signature and use the Tower of Magic¡¯s Thought Hub to filter through our collected data for similar instances of essence irregularity. It would work like spellcaster tracking, but on a much larger scale.¡± David, once again too excited to keep his mouth shut, shouted, ¡°Of course! That¡¯s why you wanted the survey teams here. We need to find an active kobald illusion to use as a reference for the Tower of Magic¡¯s scrying teams. Otherwise, we¡¯ll be trying to find one essence signature in a million.¡± The commander, realizing that they may have just cracked the kobald illusion problem, asked firmly, ¡°Are you saying that you CAN break through their illusions?¡± Lord Verena¡¯s voice blared through the room¡¯s speakers, ¡°Hells be damned, man! Let the scientists work!¡± ¡ª-- While Nick was in contact with whoever he needed to talk to, Nero had taken out his trusty wooden stump to sit his ass down. The dwarves remained fascinated with the broken stonework around the edges of the kobald tunnel, while everyone else was still roughly in formation, both watching the room¡¯s exit and the tunnel for incoming enemies. Natalie and the mages meanwhile were huddled together talking with the two scouts. Pulling out a plate of some type of meat and what looked like blue mashed potatoes from his personal space, Nero decided to take advantage of the opportunity to enjoy some food. If there was one thing that he still found amazing, it was the fact that he could store anything he wanted and pull it out whenever he felt like it. He would have killed for this ability back home. Just the thought of being able to pull out a cliched bag of popcorn after he¡¯d started an argument between two strangers was enough to send him into the giggles. Smirking to himself as he used the silverware he¡¯d stolen from the keep to dig into his meal, he reminded himself that he needed to acquire another stump the next time he was in the wilds to act as a table. Having to sit his meal on his lap like he was at a picnic simply wasn¡¯t cutting it.Enjoying this book? Seek out the original to ensure the author gets credit. While he ate, he thought about how excited Nick had been about what he¡¯d said and tried to figure out what the man had figured out. It was obviously important, and could probably affect the war as a whole. It also was pretty apparent that it had something to do with the weird kobald spell technique that acted like a mind-altering illusion. Thinking back to the only other kobald illusion that he¡¯d seen, Nero tried to remember what the one on the mountains felt like. It definitely wasn¡¯t a spell like the one they¡¯d just found. The one covering the tunnel here was definitely more like a spell, while the one on the mountain was more like that hiding technique Rose and the evaluators¡­ former evaluators used. Was there a connection he was missing? Mentally reviewing how he¡¯d gotten around the illusion on the mountain, Nero realized that he hadn¡¯t broken it like he had the one hiding the tunnel. Instead, he¡¯d just mentally gone around it. So, reasonably, it was possible that they shared some similarities that he wasn¡¯t aware of. If that were true, then theoretically all spells could be ¡®gotten around¡¯. Mentally thinking himself into circles, he paused his logical gymnastics and took a sip from his canteen. Looking around, he saw the dwarves had finished their examinations and were now in the argumentative phase of their scientific process. Seeing them shouting at each other while trying not to be too loud was pretty funny. Seeing that Natalie and the mages were walking over to him, Nero turned his head toward them and waited. Before they could say anything, Nero asked the mages, ¡°Hey, either of you two know if it¡¯s possible to use your own center to ignore another person¡¯s spell?¡± One of the mages, either Merrick or Peter, replied immediately, ¡°You mean like a counterspell?¡± Shrugging as he took another bite of his meal, Nero replied, ¡°I don¡¯t know, maybe. What¡¯s a counterspell again?¡± The other mage said, ¡°A counterspell is exactly what it sounds like. When someone fires a spell at you, you fire the opposite spell back at them. When they meet, their effects cancel each other out. It¡¯s a difficult technique that usually doesn¡¯t work perfectly. The goal isn¡¯t to actually counter the spell. Usually, it¡¯s to stop the spell they¡¯re firing at you, causing it to misfire.¡± Looking confused, Nero was thankful that the first mage clarified what the other one just said. ¡°Imagine a person sending a bolt of concussive force at you. You fire one right back at them. Both spells are hypothetically just as strong as the other one, and when they meet, they both project an equal force in opposition to one another,¡± he said. Nero nodded, before saying, ¡°I get it. So if the spells are exactly perfect, they cancel each other out. But in the real world, that doesn¡¯t happen. The counterspell is never a perfect counter, so the spells just destabilize each other. In the example you just gave, that would probably end up with the two spells just blowing up when they hit.¡± ¡°Not really. In that example, they would probably just fizzle apart and cause a small release of wind from whatever force is left over,¡± the first mage said. Interrupting them, Natalie said, ¡°As fascinating as this is, we need to talk about our orders. Ms. Averrett has asked us to push through the tunnel and see where it goes. Meanwhile, other teams are backtracking and checking the cleared areas to ensure that we haven¡¯t missed any other hidden tunnels.¡± Nero, nodding in understanding, put his half-eaten meal and silverware back in his personal space along with his stool. Clapping his hands together to clear off the non-existent crumbs, he said, ¡°Sounds good. I¡¯m ready when you are.¡± While Natalie got everyone back into formation, the dwarves returned to the rear¡­ still arguing with each other about whatever it was they were arguing about. Nick took up his position in the middle of the formation, right next to Nero and the mages. To Nero, it was obvious the man was still focused on the conversation he was having over his link. He was barely paying attention to where he was going. It took one of the mages holding his arm and dragging him to get him heading in the right direction. While they slowly made their way up the tunnel, Nero was happy to see that someone had thought of the magical equivalent of flashlights. Almost a third of the people in the formation had cast a simple light spell, either hovering above their hands or in the case of the two mages, over their shoulders. Nero, copying what they were doing, cast one of his own. It was a pretty simple spell, one he¡¯d already learned from his household spells book. But what was interesting was that almost everyone cast it subtly differently than the person next to them. They all inherently attached themselves to a person¡¯s center, requiring constant power, but allowing them to carry them along unlike most spells. And while they all looked identical, at the spell form level, he could see the discrepancies. As far as he knew, spell forms were supposed to be rigidly defined. Mages who studied and created them needed to learn exactly how they were supposed to be carved. Any deviation from the pattern was supposed to cause problems with the spell. But, obviously, that was not an actual rule¡­ because he was looking at half a dozen exceptions. Keeping his voice low, Nero nudged the mage next to him, catching his attention. ¡°You¡¯re Peter, right?¡± The mage replied with a small smile, ¡°Merrick. Merrick Gotleb, my lord.¡± ¡°Right¡­ sorry. Anyway, you know your light spell? Well, I was wondering why it¡¯s a little different than everyone else¡¯s. Not that yours is the only one different. Everyone¡¯s is. I was just curious as to why that is. I thought spells were supposed to be cast the same way by everybody,¡± Nero asked, trying to smoothly move past the fact that he hadn¡¯t known the man¡¯s name. Looking confused, Merrick replied, ¡°It is? They are? That doesn¡¯t seem right. I¡¯m casting the standard light spell everyone learns in school like everyone else. When you say different, what do you mean exactly?¡± Nero, not knowing how to explain it, still tried. ¡°It¡¯s like they¡¯re all kinda warped reflections of each other. Or better yet, like everyone was shown the same pattern, but then kinda copied it freehand. They''re all pretty close, but not really identical.¡± Merrick paused for a moment to focus on his spell, furrowing his brow in concentration. He then took a moment to look at the mage next to him¡¯s spell¡­ who¡¯s name was, by process of elimination, Peter. After a moment, he turned back to Nero and said, ¡°I¡¯m sorry, my lord. But they look the same to me. If they weren¡¯t all the same, they wouldn¡¯t work correctly. Therefore, I believe you may be mistaken.¡± Nero had never been so respectfully told he was crazy before¡­ it was a new experience. Not wanting to argue, Nero replied, ¡°Thanks, Merrick. I¡¯m sure it¡¯s just the nerves getting to me. Don¡¯t worry about it.¡± Immediately ignoring the man, Nero kept up the pace with the rest of the formation while staring at his feet in thought. Obviously, the locals didn¡¯t have the precision essence sight to see what he was seeing. To them, everything was too fuzzy to recognize that the spell forms were different. So, either nobody ever bothered to use any of their fancy machines to check the same spell from multiple people and compare them, or he was missing something. Once again, Nero wondered why he couldn¡¯t have found a universe where the spell abilities and reality were controlled by hotkeys. It reminded him of the time in college when he had to take a physics course. Even at the most basic level, it required a ton of math that he never really understood. After having figured out the way all the forces and everything balanced out, and having solved for the resulting direction of the theoretical pool ball, the professor had made it very clear that everything they had just learned only worked in THEORY. In reality, there were too many variables unaccounted for which could affect the pool ball¡¯s ultimate trajectory. All that pointless math, all that brain-melting thought, and what they learned was only ¡®kinda¡¯ applicable to real life. Nero stayed lost in thought for a while, completely ignoring the winding slope of the tunnel around him. The formation stayed quiet, silently moving through the kobald tunnel, ready for anything. When they eventually arrived at the end, they found the forward scouts standing in front of a solid wall of stone, waiting for them. Guessing that they would be communicating over the command channel, Nero quickly joined in to hear what they were saying. ¡°...like the other one. We checked the other side, and it was an uncleared floor. We¡¯re not sure which one, we didn¡¯t want to head into the hallways and find out,¡± one of the scouts said. Natalie asked, ¡°How do you know it¡¯s an uncleared floor then?¡± The other scout replied, ¡°Because there is still furniture and stuff lying around. Nobody¡¯s cleared it out yet.¡± Nodding, Natalie replied, ¡°Reasonable assumption then. But we need to know what floor we¡¯re on.¡± Turning to Merrick and Peter, she asked, ¡°Can either of you two determine our location?¡± Surprisingly, it was Nick who answered her, while still looking like he was completely lost in thought. ¡°We¡¯re on floor 4. We must have bypassed floor 3. Luckily, whoever set up the Though Hub relays did a wonderful job. When the engineering teams got the central control chamber up and running, the floor relays seem to have activated.¡± Nero, surprised to see Nick participating while still looking like he was stoned out of his mind, asked over the channel, ¡°Wait¡­ we can still access the Thought Hub? I thought we were on the Battle Hub, or is that the same thing¡­ just¡­ of battle or whatever?¡± Coming out of his daze, Nick took the time to look directly at Nero, making sure that he was able to see him rolling his eyes. ¡°Nero, check your pings. I¡¯ve sent you a book that I want you to read before you ask any other questions that make people question their decision to follow you,¡± Nick said before going slackjawed again, obviously re-engaging with the multiple conversations he was probably having. Muttering under his breath, Nero said quietly, ¡°Damn¡­ that was a solid burn. Respect.¡± While Natalie and the rest of the team were determining how they should proceed, Nero did what he was told and checked his pings for the book Nick had sent him. Right there at the top, he saw Nick¡¯s ping. Opening it, he found a fully typed-out note. How Nick was able to quickly write it, while likely having multiple conversations with people across the city, Nero had no idea. Nero, This is the standard introduction to the Thought Hub that all children are given when they get their first link. While most people only bother to read the first few chapters, most of your questions will probably find their answers in the later ones. Knowing you, I doubt you care much about the history of how they came to be, but you should at least try and learn about how they work. Historical social pressures and developmental paths are forces of nature that are inevitably entwined. Why and how the initial Thought Hubs were created are both important factors in understanding what they eventually became. Of particular note is Chapter 14. It covers the interactions and types of Thought Hubs, both private and governmental. Also, be sure to read Chapter 7¡­ twice if you have to. That should put to bed any conspiracy theories you might have on what evils the entrenched powerbase uses the link system for. Lord Nicholas Salvatore-Verena, Head of House Verena. Checking the attachment, Nero saw the title, ¡®The Hub Where We Think¡¯. Muttering again, Nero scoffed, ¡°Yeah, ''cause that doesn¡¯t sound suspect at all.¡± Chapter 249 - Hints of whats behind the curtain. Smacking his fist against the table in frustration, Archmage Jennings closed his eyes and took a few deep breaths. He needed to calm down and get a hold of himself. In front of him, hovering above his desk, was the map of the kobald cities given to the army by the dwarves. While not detailed, it clearly showed multiple cities spread out under the mountain range, some of them being nearly the size of Dorchester. It was clear the kobalds had dug deep into the ground, probably breaking into the outer layer of the underworld. He quickly activated his override for the Tower of Magic¡¯s scrying array, secretly using a secondary and hidden wavelength to confirm what the dwarves had found. He¡¯d already configured the array to be able to handle most known forms of kobald illusions, so if there really was something there, he should be able to see it. Seconds turned into minutes as the array powered itself for a long-range scan, and he mentally reminded himself to replace the essence crystals he was using. It would be quite a problem if half the Tower of Magic¡¯s reserves disappeared without anyone knowing why. Impatiently tapping his fingers on the desk, he scowled at the display, waiting for the scan results. When it came up, he immediately began cursing. After he¡¯d first arrived, he looked into everything the capital had on Dorchester. He¡¯d known all about the kobalds having taken over the mountain city. He¡¯d even done his due diligence and took a look for himself. After seeing that the records from the capital didn¡¯t include the kobald¡¯s expansions, he made sure to thoroughly check their current progress¡­ or at least he thought he had. Obviously, he¡¯d missed a few things. Rubbing his hands over his face in shame, he couldn¡¯t stop thinking about how monumentally stupid he¡¯d been. He hadn¡¯t bothered expanding the search area at all. The thought of other kobald cities already having been founded hadn¡¯t even occurred to him. All he¡¯d had to do was look, and he would have found them. Suddenly freezing in his seat, he wondered whether or not the king was aware of this. Or more logically, when had the king known about this? The king¡¯s observational pillar was well known, and his ability to see everything within his kingdom wasn¡¯t a secret. So, he¡¯d probably known all along. ¡°How many layers are there in the boy¡¯s game this time?¡± he muttered to himself as he thought about the king. Although the man was old, Jennings had been there to see him grow up. So, he knew what the king was capable of, and manipulating events of this magnitude was exactly the kind of thing he¡¯d do. The only question was, how far back did his machinations go? Had he purposefully used the Populators to cause the density shift to happen early? Could he possibly have predicted the arrival of Lord Walker and his influence over recent events? However unlikely, Jennings had to at least consider it a possibility. While it was more conceivable that the king was just taking advantage of the situation to clear out the influence of the Tower of Fate, Jennings couldn¡¯t be sure that there wasn¡¯t a larger game being played he was unaware of. He hadn¡¯t felt so much like a piece in centuries. He¡¯d been fine allowing the king to use the Tower of Magic to damage the Tower of Fate, as he agreed that they had been growing too powerful, and he could forgive the man for using him and his mages to do it, but what he didn¡¯t like was not being able to see where things were headed. All of his predictions were now useless, as he hadn¡¯t accounted for the kobalds being so widespread. He had no idea what was going to happen, or really even what was happening. How big a threat were the kobalds? Could they even be contained by a singular city¡¯s forces? Did the king arrange for the dwarves to come here by using the Populators to clear out the mining city under the excuse of clearing out traitors to the kingdom, all for the express purpose of getting them involved? This was why he hated dealing with the king, the man was just too well-informed, and therefore too skilled at the game. Facing someone who was aware of all the variables before they became apparent was too complicated. Deciding that he needed more information, he dismissed the current holograms hovering over his desk and sent out a connection request to the Tower of Magic in Hennings. After a minute, he felt the connection establish, Archmage Mathers¡¯ face appearing before him in a scrying window. ¡°Archmage Jennings? We didn¡¯t have a call scheduled until eleven. I¡¯m assuming you need something urgently?¡± Mathers asked, sounding annoyed at being interrupted. Jennings snorted at the man¡¯s growing confidence. The temporary position as the head of the council of mages seemed to be doing good for him. ¡°Yes, I do. In fact, I need several things,¡± he said emphatically, his tone utterly devoid of warmth. Hearing Jenning¡¯s tone, Archmage Mathers sat up straight and lost some of his confidence. ¡°What can I do for you?¡± he asked. Jennings replied quickly, ¡°First, I need you to use the Tower¡¯s scrying array to inspect the mountain range around Dorchester. And, before you ask¡­ No, the one here isn¡¯t good enough. You¡¯re going to have to use the control hub in my lab. You already have access, so don¡¯t worry about having to use the temporary override I gave you.¡± Seeing Archmage Mathers staring at him in confusion, Jennings growled, ¡°Are you writing this down?¡± Jumping at the question, Archmage Mathers replied quickly, ¡°Yes, of course. Go ahead.¡± Sighing in annoyance, Jennings began, ¡°Now, before anything else, you¡¯ll need to configure the scrying array to¡­¡± ¡ª-- Nero had tried to read the book, he really had, but events didn¡¯t seem likely to allow him any time to do so. Before he¡¯d even gotten through the introduction, Natalie had begun getting them ready to move out. Nick had even interrupted him by harshly making him promise to leave the kobald illusion alone so that the arriving survey team he¡¯d ordered could study it¡­ or use it to find other ones somehow¡­ Nero hadn¡¯t been listening all that closely. He¡¯d been trying to read. The largest downside of having his book displayed in his mind over the link was that Nero couldn¡¯t hold it up to show others that he was too busy to talk to them at the moment. He missed having a physical excuse to ignore people. Regardless, he still ended up having to close his book when Natalie ordered them forward. Despite being in the middle of the formation, there was still too much for him to see after they walked through the illusion of the stone wall. Instead of finding empty rooms like the ones on the floor below, the room they walked into was obviously being recently used to house kobalds. The lights were still the standard essence lights that looked like glowballs hanging from the ceiling, and the furniture was obviously at one point meant for humans. However, the kobalds had definitely made their marks on the place. Bunched-up piles of linens and curtains were all over the place, looking like makeshift dog beds. A few chairs here and there still managed to avoid the fate of the desks and other furniture, which had been broken down into piles of wood. Stones had been arranged in the middle of the room to provide a place to hang a cooking pot, making the room loosely resemble a campsite. Nero frowned in confusion as he looked around, not understanding why there was still any wood left to burn. If the kobalds had been using the furniture as fuel, then there was no way it should have lasted this long. Hadn¡¯t Nick said that the kobalds had been here for hundreds of years or something? While the rest of the team spread out and searched the room in silence, Nero took a closer look at the cooking area. From what he could see, the kobalds weren¡¯t actually using the wood to fuel the fire, instead, they were using some kind of paste that smelled awful. Right next to the fire was a bucket full of the stuff, and he sincerely hoped that it wasn¡¯t kobald manure. He¡¯d often read about using ¡®cow patties¡¯ as a fuel source, but he had no idea how that could actually work. But if that¡¯s what the kobalds were doing, then he had no idea why they went to all the trouble of smashing the dressers, desks, and beds. Were they just being assholes for the sake of being assholes? As he was performing his own little cultural investigation, the rest of the team was reporting their findings over the command channel. The scouts had already headed out to explore the hallways, easily slipping into the shadows. Nick was busy studying what looked like a loose collection of pages he¡¯d found. Just looking at them made Nero wonder what they were made of. They didn¡¯t look like paper¡­ and the moment he realized that¡­ he stopped wondering.The story has been illicitly taken; should you find it on Amazon, report the infringement. Shivering at the obvious thoughts of what else they might have used, Nero listened in on what the others were saying. The consensus was that the kobalds had recently abandoned the floor, but no one had any idea why. A few theories were tossed around, from their forces being too thinned out, to them consolidating themselves for an organized counter-assault. Nero had nothing of worth to contribute, so he kept his mouth shut. While he should have taken the opportunity to read the book Nick had practically commanded him to read, he instead found himself too invested in studying how the connection between everyone worked. He was at least self-aware enough to recognize what he was doing. Considering the answers to all his questions were probably in the book Nick had sent him, it made practically no sense for him to be trying to figure things out on his own. However, he had always been a more hands-on learner than the type that studied. And with his weird as-yet-unnamed ability to perceive the ether at a level that bordered on the prodigious, there was a lot for him to ¡®see¡¯. It started with him trying to determine who was talking. The connections allowed everyone¡¯s mind to kind of but-up next to each other in the ether, almost like they were in a metaphysical Zoom meeting. Instead of faces, each person¡¯s essence presence was on display. There was no way to confuse who was talking, and matching that essence to who they were in the room was rather simple. Even more interesting, but not really surprising, was that two people with the same name didn¡¯t lead to confusion at all. When he discovered that there were two Helens on the team, he was easily able to tell which one the person mentioning them was talking about. That, of course, led him to try to figure out whether it was a feature of the link connection, translation magic, or both. It turned out that it was simply the intention of the person who was speaking being transmitted through the translation magic of the world. Which led Nero to discover that the dwarves had been speaking an entirely different language the entire time! Something which he hadn¡¯t even realized, or even noticed. There was no odd ¡®dubbing¡¯ effect, or anything that could hint that what he was hearing wasn¡¯t exactly what they were saying. It was all happening automatically in his head, and unless he used his senses to override the translation, he wouldn¡¯t have noticed at all. After beginning to listen carefully, he was able to recognize how thoroughly the translation magic was working. It was converting everything everyone was saying into something he could understand, including things like sayings and metaphors. Once he started actively listening for it, it was spooky as hell. But that wasn¡¯t all. He also discovered that if he looked closely, he could see the essence connections spread out like a web over the area. He could tell who had multiple connections open, and where they were headed. Some people were having private conversations between themselves, and the dwarves had a secondary network they were using to talk to each other. Nick looked like a tree considering how many connections he had going at once. The only one who didn¡¯t was Rose, who as usual was hugging a corner and practically making herself invisible. Considering how low-level she was, the fact that she always seemed to be around was something he¡¯d have to eventually ask Cathleen about. But that was for later, for now, he was too focused on studying the connections. She only had one, and it was obviously the command channel. Using her as a baseline, he could see that it was leading off through the wall, flowing through the ether, probably back to wherever the Battle Hub was set up. The moment he realized that, he felt like a moron for not tracing his own connection he had with it. Standing in the middle of the room while everyone was busy looking around and waiting for the scouts to return, Nero sent his mind along the link through the walls. In many ways, it was a lot like delving, and it required him to keep a tight reign on his thoughts. Luckily, he¡¯d had some experience at this point keeping his center contained, so it wasn¡¯t a problem to keep most of his attention back with his body while part of his mind traveled along the ether. As he rushed through the walls, he went straight through the stone, interferring with his his ability to see anything. Occasionally, flashes of rooms appeared before quickly being left behind. It was like he was flying through the mountain city like a ghost. It was odd to see the connections in the ether. They weren¡¯t like essence flows exactly, but they were similar. He kind of had to focus to even be able to recognize them. His ability to perceive the material plane somewhat faded away into a grey scale as he did so, and couldn¡¯t figure out why. It was almost like there were layers to the ether, and he could only focus on one or two at a time, while the material world acted as the background. ¡®So, this is controlled scrying. This is going much better than last time,¡¯ he thought to himself, somewhat proud of his progress. He even had the time to check his center levels using his identity as he flew through the walls. There was definitely a drain, but he was able to keep it under control. Now that he was aware of it, losing center felt like a combination of his focus wavering and his confidence failing. It really was a metaphysical drain on ¡®who he was¡¯, rather than anything like muscle fatigue or something of that sort. When his mind probe slammed to a stop, it was back at the forward operating station where they¡¯d come from. His attention was drawn to the ridiculously large wagon which looked like something out of a steampunk novel. While it had six wheels, what really set it apart was the fact that it was mostly cylindrical. Armored plates were attached all over the place, while little essence lights lit up areas underneath them, making the thing look all ¡®magi-tech¡¯. Meanwhile, several people were at control consoles, fiddling with things, alongside it. ¡®So, this is a battle hub,¡¯ he thought to himself. There were so many connections coming off it that when he focused on them, it practically blinded him. But there was also a solid pillar of essence that was shooting off toward one of the walls, which he guessed was probably back toward the Dorchester Thought Hub. He was careful not to try and interact with any of them, as he had no idea if he¡¯d end up inadvertently frying someone¡¯s brain. Noticing that his center had dropped below 75%, he quickly closed off his connection to his mind probe. Slamming back into his own mind felt like someone had set off a firecracker in front of his face. He instantly reared back and closed his eyes. ¡°Son of a bitch!¡± he swore in an angry whisper. Nick, having been standing nearby, thoroughly engrossed in his reading, said quietly and somewhat blithely, ¡°I warned you not to mess around with scrying yet. Enjoy your headache.¡± Nero, now rubbing his temples which were throbbing, glared at the man. Nick hadn¡¯t even bothered to turn away from the ¡®book¡¯ he was reading. Walking away, intending to get some space from the man, Nero muttered, ¡°Dick.¡± Thinking to himself, Nero realized Nick had gotten a few good digs on him over the past bit without reprisals. He¡¯d have to remedy that soon, or the old man would start getting too full of himself. Putting his growing grudge against his friend aside for the moment, Nero thought about doing some more investigations into the Thought Hub-type connections they were using, the pain in his temples convinced him he¡¯d be better off focusing on the team¡¯s current mission. Luckily, his connection to the command channel hadn¡¯t been affected, so he could still hear what everyone was saying. Although, he had to admit it was weird to see everyone grouped up while just staring at one another while their minds talked to each other. ¡°Command says it¡¯s up to us if we keep going. Technically, our mission is to clear our area of level 2, so there isn¡¯t any reason for us to be here,¡± she stated firmly. One of the Helens replied, ¡°But we might as well try and find out where the kobalds are grouping up. It doesn¡¯t seem weird to you that they have abandoned the entire floor?¡± Natalie replied, ¡°We don¡¯t know they have. We only know that they aren¡¯t using this room anymore¡­ and even that is only conjecture.¡± Another soldier, one whose name he hadn¡¯t caught yet, added, ¡°That¡¯s right. For all we know, they could be using one of this floor''s central market areas as a mustering ground. It¡¯s more important for us to find the hidden tunnels they¡¯ve set up so we don¡¯t get surprised.¡± Merrick, one of the mages, suggested, ¡°I think that we should return to our assigned route. There will probably still be war bands that are patrolling which need to be cleared out. We should let the survey teams and the Tower of Magic worry about the hidden tunnels, while we focus on the fighting. They¡¯ll find them.¡± While Nero knew that his opinion would definitely matter, he didn¡¯t want to influence Natalie¡¯s decision. He knew he had no idea what they should be doing, and he currently didn¡¯t feel like pretending he did. Interrupting their conversation, one of the scouts who¡¯d gone off to check the hallways said, ¡°I¡¯ve found out where they went.¡± Natalie, along with everyone else, went silent. They were all eagerly waiting to hear what he had to say. ¡°They¡¯ve retreated to the upper levels, leaving behind war bands being sent out from central positions near the main tunnel junctions. There are currently a few thousand of them swarming around the one nearby. It¡¯s obvious they¡¯re prepping for a defensive engagement. I think the war bands we¡¯ve run into are meant to hinder us and buy them some time to get their defenses in place,¡± he said in what Nero was beginning to recognize as his typical quiet voice. Natalie¡¯s face scrunched up in annoyance. ¡°That¡¯s going to make clearing them out difficult. With the hidden tunnels throughout the floors, they¡¯ll be able to strike out wherever they want. They¡¯ll get the time they need to set up whatever they want.¡± Nero, not seeing the issue, spoke up, ¡°Why don¡¯t we just go clear them out? He said there are only a few thousand right? After we defeat a few waves, I can use their soul stuff to just nuke ¡®em.¡± Nick, having been listening to the conversation, stepped up next to Nero and glared down at him. ¡°Nero, while that might work, we have no idea how prepared they are for us. Also, you don¡¯t know what kind of kobalds are there. If there are only the basic grunts that we¡¯ve been facing, your plan might have a chance. However, I very much doubt that now that we¡¯re inside one of their strongholds, we won¡¯t find some of their actual leaders and upper castes.¡± Nero, understanding what Nick was getting at, replied, ¡°You mean actual real kobalds, and not just the clone army they¡¯ve bred to assault us. I guess you¡¯re probably right. But, how different could they be from the ones we¡¯ve been facing?¡± Natalie, her tone grave, replied, ¡°The simple kobalds we¡¯ve faced, both just now and on the mountain were, at best, equivalent to level 10 or 20. There may have been a few of the leadership castes among them, but I doubt it. Kobalds don¡¯t usually send out their leaders for assaults, that¡¯s why digging them out of their holes is so difficult. Above ground, they¡¯re swarm predators, here¡­ they¡¯re more like an army.¡± Shrugging his shoulders as if he weren¡¯t worried, Nero replied, ¡°Well, we¡¯ll just have to kill them harder then.¡± One of the soldiers who¡¯d been silently listening along, replied, ¡°What? You mean like stab them more than once?¡± Nero, pretending to be utterly serious, replied, ¡°Yes. That¡¯s exactly what I meant.¡± Chapter 250 - But... Thats it? While her time among the Southerners had done a lot to alleviate the prejudices she¡¯d once had, she still occasionally found herself wanting to lash out at them for their idiocy. There was something about being able to choose when and where they fought that dulled the tactical skills they should have developed as battle-hardened warriors. Subcommander Jates was a perfect example of what kind of soldier the Southern cities tended to produce. He was individually strong, self-confident, and tactically intelligent. However, he was also rash, over-confident, and too eager to bet on his troops'' overwhelming superiority. ¡°I understand what you¡¯re saying, Ms. Averett, but I still believe it¡¯s unnecessary,¡± he said once again bringing up what she and everyone else in the command tent considered a settled matter. Barely stopping herself from visibly rolling her eyes, she looked away from the map currently being projected over the table to glare at him. ¡°Yes, I know. You¡¯ve made that abundantly clear. Your opinion, however, has no bearing on whether or not you¡¯re right. And in this case, you are not,¡± she replied firmly. Jates expression was making it apparent to everyone in the room that he was coming close to his emotional limit. The vein on his forehead was visibly throbbing in tune with his accelerated heart rate. ¡°I have the command authority for this position, and you have no right to countermand my orders,¡± he declared in a hiss. Nodding in agreement, Cathleen¡¯s stoic face showed nothing. ¡°You do, and I don¡¯t. That being said, I¡¯ve already contacted central command and they¡¯ve agreed with me. This argument is pointless,¡± she said. Finally losing it, he shouted, ¡°You had no right to contact Commander Dahl directly! This is no place for politics, it¡¯s a field of war!¡± Responding to his pathetically sad display of anger, Cathleen¡¯s expression finally broke into a grin. ¡°Oh? I hadn¡¯t realized. You¡¯ve been treating this as a monster hunt, so I may have unintentionally gotten confused. Do you typically overextend your troops during a war when the enemy has proven their ability to outflank you?¡± she asked somewhat mockingly. ¡°They haven¡¯t outflanked us! We¡¯re underground! There is no flank! Our reserve can simply follow the directions given by the survey teams to collapse the hidden tunnels as they find them. The forward positions do not need to be moved back!¡± he shouted adamantly. Replying in a calm but firm voice, Cathleen replied, ¡°Those aren¡¯t your orders. Your orders have always been to clear out and maintain a growing field of control in this section of the city. Nothing more, nothing less. Having found that the areas currently under our control are riddled with possible hidden tunnels allowing the enemy to get behind our troops, the only logical decision we can make is to pull back until those holes are addressed.¡± ¡°But we haven¡¯t faced anything close to an organized counterassault. There is no point! We can shore up our zone of control while we continue to clear out the kobalds who are amassing in larger numbers. The longer we wait, the more time they have to build up their defenses,¡± he countered, trying and failing miserably to mirror her calm demeanor. ¡°You could very well be correct. However, at worst, my plan will have us facing enemy strongholds built up quickly and with limited supplies. Yours, on the other hand, could lead to our forces being split and taken out piecemeal. The risk is both unwarranted and foolish. Command has agreed, and the matter should be settled. The fact that you continue to rant and rave in support of a position that has already been discarded is not going to change anything,¡± she said, sounding somewhat like a parent admonishing an unruly child. Gesturing with her hand to the rest of the command tent, where multiple people were busily coordinating a withdrawal, she added, ¡°Despite being in ¡®command¡¯, no one here is bothering to listen to you. They are all busy doing their jobs, as you should be doing.¡± Turning her head to the left to address one of the soldiers, she asked calmly, ¡°Have any of our assigned survey teams reported in yet?¡± The soldier she was speaking to snapped to attention. ¡°Yes, Battle Leader Averett. Three teams are coordinating with the Tower of Magic to begin working on marking the tunnels nearest to us now. The first has already been dispatched to where we know one is located. They estimate that they should have a working technique to find them within four to five hours.¡± Nodding in appreciation of their efficiency, she replied, ¡°Good. Make sure all our teams are accounted for and are back here as soon as possible. We¡¯ll restart our push as soon as we resupply and have some targets. Be sure to coordinate with the engineers so that they are ready to close the tunnels.¡± Subcommander Jates stood there fuming, absolutely furious that his own soldiers were listening to her. However, there wasn¡¯t much he could do. Both command and everyone in the room had either heard or seen what happened when he¡¯d attempted to duel her. It had not been a proud moment for him. Rubbing his still aching shoulder which hadn¡¯t seemed to heal right, he stomped out of the room to go and clear his head. As he left, he couldn¡¯t help but hear Cathleen mutter, ¡°Weak Southern pretty boys should be seen, and not heard.¡± ¡ª-- Nero shouldn¡¯t have been all that surprised that they were being called back. That had been Natalie¡¯s recommendation, and as far as he could tell, she seemed like the type of woman who knew what she was doing. From what he recalled, she had joined the wackos for the challenge and excitement being around him would offer. Having been a guard captain for Precision Shipping, Vera¡¯s company, she also had plenty of experience leading people. If she thought it was best for them to retreat, then that should have been the end of it. Looking back, he realized that he REALLY shouldn¡¯t have said anything. It made absolutely no sense to him how she seemed to be taking it as a personal failing that she couldn¡¯t allow him to lead what was likely a doomed assault on the closest kobald position. She¡¯d gone out of her way to offer him the opportunity to take control of the team and lead them into battle despite her orders. His opinion should NOT matter to her that much. After hearing her once again apologize to him, he replied tiredly, ¡°I told you, it¡¯s fine. I wasn¡¯t even really being serious. It¡¯s probably better that we¡¯re being careful. We should clear out the hidden tunnels and make sure that no one else gets surrounded. Stop worrying about it.¡± Walking alongside him down the hall in the middle of the formation, she replied sadly, ¡°I understand. I just want you to know that I don¡¯t doubt that you would have led us to victory. If at any time you feel the need for us to disregard our orders, you only have to say the word. We¡¯re all behind you. You are the Walker, and where you lead, we shall follow.¡± Nero couldn¡¯t help but droop his shoulders at her sincerity. He couldn¡¯t even mock her. She was like a tactical weapon version of a puppy that had for some reason imprinted on him. Not wanting to prolong the uncomfortable conversation, he said, ¡°Understood. And I appreciate it. If and when that becomes an issue, I¡¯ll let you know. For now, keep doing what you¡¯re doing and I¡¯ll keep my eyes and ears open. I still have a lot to learn about warfare and how you do things here, so don¡¯t expect me to offer much of an opinion on anything. Just consider me another wacko under your command.¡± Looking like she was nodding in appreciation of his humility, she replied, ¡°Of course, my lord.¡±A case of theft: this story is not rightfully on Amazon; if you spot it, report the violation. Dropping back in the formation, Nero sighed in relief when she didn¡¯t follow him. They had been returning through the halls they had already ¡®cleared¡¯ to get back to the forward encampment. Apparently, before they pushed deeper into the mountain, they needed to locate and close all the hidden kobald tunnels. Nick had somehow figured out how to do so and was still busy talking to people over his link about it. Nero, however, found the entire situation tedious. His one experience with war was the adrenaline-filled assault on the surface of the mountain against the kobald invasion. There was no downtime, and the battle had been one long slugfest filled with spells and steel. It had been awesome. Yet, this slow and grueling trudge through the tunnels was nothing like that. Since they¡¯d arrived, they¡¯d been in ONE battle, and it was against what was basically a small group of paper kobalds that had barely managed to put up a fight. This was not the WAR he had signed up for. Looking around the formation, he could tell that no one else seemed bothered by their progress. In fact, everyone else seemed proud of their little victory. Having found himself near the dwarves at the back of the formation, he made his way over to Crusher and interrupted the dwarf¡¯s conversation with the dwarf next to him. ¡°Hey, you guys fight in tunnels like this a lot, right?¡± he asked, completely ignoring the fact that they might have been in the middle of something. Looking over at Nero with some confusion, he replied, ¡°Aye, we do.¡± ¡°Is it always like this? You know, slow. We¡¯ve been walking around for like hours and only had one fight¡­ and it sucked,¡± Nero said angrily. Several of the dwarves chuckled, while Crusher replied, ¡°It¡¯s war, lad. What did you expect?¡± Blanking his expression, Nero replied, ¡°I don¡¯t know¡­ fighting? The last time I was in a war, the forces involved numbered more than I could count. There were lines of troops up and down the mountain, and fields of dead enemies that had to be carted off to make way for our advances. It was freaking intense, man. This¡­ this just sucks.¡± Crusher, his tone full of amusement, reassured him, ¡°Ye¡¯ll get your fill of fighting, don¡¯t ya worry. This city is large enough to house hundreds of thousands of kobalds. Probably millions. While we¡¯re only cleaning out the upper floors, there should still be plenty of them to get your axe wet.¡± Cringing at the imagery, Nero replied, ¡°Right. Thanks, I guess.¡± Now no longer wanting to talk to the dwarf, and having no one else to distract him, Nero retook his place in the center of the formation. They were probably halfway back to the forward encampment, and he figured he should probably try and be remotely productive. He should at least get something out of this waste of time. Opening up his link, he returned to the book Nick had given him about Though Hubs and all that they entail. Before he¡¯d barely gotten through the introduction, so it should at least occupy him for a while. It wasn¡¯t all that hard to read while he walked, since his mind wasn¡¯t occupied by anything else. He had no mage armor up, and he¡¯d already closed off his connection to the command channel because listening to everyone continuously theory-crafting what they might end up doing in the future was doing nothing but pissing him off. So, he let himself get distracted by the tale of how Thought Hubs were developed and why. Nothing he was reading was all that interesting as he¡¯d already heard the basics of the story from Nick. Some asshole had wanted to take advantage of the fact that crystals could transmit thoughts, and he was bad enough at it that he annoyed the dragon who¡¯d laid claim to the entire continent. He still found the dragon¡¯s name, Plastia, incredibly stupid. Nevertheless, she was the one who helped the guy build the first Though Hub. While the book went into a lot more detail, Nero felt a lot of the exposition was totally unnecessary. Why did it matter who was in charge of city monitoring at the time, and why was it such a struggle? From what Nero could tell, the fact that people could actually get away with a crime shouldn¡¯t have been such a surprise to anyone. The book made it sound like crime had been rampant, but looking at their examples, it sounded to him like the typical city experience he¡¯d grown used to. Cities back home had tons of homicides and crimes that were never solved. How was that a reason to set up a massive all-knowing uber brain to watch over everything? It sounded to Nero like a bit of an over reaction. But, on the other hand¡­ if he were being honest¡­ he could see the appeal of an all-watching sense of community that monitored everyone and handled the day to day. He just couldn¡¯t understand how the people in charge had gotten anyone to agree to it. But apparently, they had, and it had quickly been adopted by practically everyone. Central Thought Hubs grew with their city. They were influenced by the minds of everyone connected to them. They had no actual power, and no real sentience, but they were involved in almost everything. Anyone and everyone in range of them could link up to them, and identifying who was who by their spiritual essence imprint was central to their ability to function. Banks and government buildings were able to track people and their assets, and therefore hiding funds or relationships was an impossibility. Everything was fundamentally exposed to anyone who had enough reason and access to look for it. Laws were quickly developed, and their intentions were uploaded into the Thought Hubs. To Nero, it sounded similar to an A.I. but also not nearly as intelligent. There were too many things about Thought Hubs that sounded more like beliefs dictating processes than anyone actually coding anything. By chapter four, he¡¯d discovered that most of how the Thought Hub was run was dictated by the masses. If people freaked out about someone running down the street with a chainsaw, the Thought Hub would instinctually alert the relevant authorities, and THEY would be the ones to dispatch someone to subdue the nutjob. The Thought Hub itself didn¡¯t actually have a mind to form an opinion about anything. Which then led to private Thought Hubs, which were similar, but much less powerful. Houses and estates usually had them. Some were even small enough to fit in rooms, like the one he¡¯d had on his desk at the Center. These kinds of Thought Hubs were more like access ports to other Thought Hubs, with limited individual functionality. The book never got too far into explaining how anything was coded into them, or how they were built, but it did cover what they were capable of. Battle Hubs were interesting in that they were able to move, and were much more self-reliant than even the city Thought Hubs. Where the ones for the cities were influenced by the people linking up with them, Battle Hubs were statically built and then deployed. There was an entire section about early Battle Hubs being influenced by people¡¯s emotions and thoughts during combat, which ended up causing them to be useless. Nero could just imagine how disjointed and confusing it must have been to link up with a group mind filled with dying people. One thing of note was that everything he read about Thought Hubs backed up Nick¡¯s assertion that they weren¡¯t dangerous. Even when they failed, they simply became too difficult to interact with. The best analogy Nero could come up with was that they were like a shared document on a computer that everyone could access¡­ all the time¡­ but infinitely more complicated. The Thought Hubs themselves never ¡®forced¡¯ any information through the link to people, the person using them had to actively go and look for it. The book made it very clear that there was no concept of viruses or any other mental attack that could be passed on through them. There was even an entire chapter on it. Nero, as usual, remained skeptical. However, he could at least see now that the system seemed to intrinsically not allow for that sort of thing. But, the people who wrote it could just as easily be lying. By the time he was halfway through the book, the formation had arrived back at the forward encampment. So, Nero ended up having to put it away¡­ by closing his link that is. Since the last time he¡¯d been here, it was obvious that they¡¯d made a few changes. For one, there were a lot more people around. Whether they were reinforcements or other teams that had been called back, the place was packed. Everywhere he looked, there were groups of people setting up temporary tents and finding a place for themselves. The defenses around the exits had evolved past a guy with a clipboard. They now had defensive walls and kill zones, taking up a lot of space in front of them. Troops were on alert behind enchanted walls of stone, and in the center of the chamber, several cannons were arranged in a circle pointing at the possible incursion points. There were even some of those shield generators he recognized all over the place. Based on what he could tell, this was becoming less and less of a temporary encampment and more of a permanently fortified fallback position. Natalie led them through the crowds quickly, somehow easily finding their assigned place in the chaos. And while she and the scouts went off to report in, the rest of the team was told to set up camp. In many ways, it was weird for Nero to set up his tent in a giant chamber underground, but in others, it was kind of nostalgic. It reminded him of his time in the wilds¡­ just with a lot more people around¡­ and this time with dwarves. Interestingly, the dwarves didn¡¯t use conventional tents. They instead used runic magic to make little stone dwellings that looked like squat blocks with a door. Some of them were even stacked on top of each other, with little stairs built right into them. To Nero, they looked like squished buildings meant for little fat people. Were the dwarves more sociable, Nero might have even tried to get a look inside them. As it was, he knew he¡¯d eventually end up trying to get them to explain how their runic magic worked. Right now, all he could tell was that they imitated spell forms with some sort of language. Nick¡¯s brief explanation hadn¡¯t been much of a help, despite how intricate it had been. But for the moment, all Nero could think about was taking a nap and consolidating the experience he¡¯d built up in his soul. Since they weren¡¯t likely to be sent out on a mission any time soon, he figured he at least had enough time to do that much. ¡®Hopefully, I¡¯ll have some time to finish the Though Hub book so I can prove that bastard wrong about my willingness to learn anything,¡¯ he thought to himself sourly. Chapter 251 - Change starts at the top? Mage-adept Newbanks stood near the back of the control room on the platform overlooking the array. With her arms crossed and a stern look on her face, her presence filled the room despite her staying out of the way. While the main focusing array spun in the center of the room, the mages scurried around it like frenzied worker bees. They knew she was watching. The mage currently in charge of the central array continued to call out orders, attempting to bring some semblance of order to the chaos. They needn¡¯t have bothered, as Newbanks was too invested in what she was doing on her link to bother paying attention to what they were doing. Simultaneously searching through all the hurriedly updated protocols, she skillfully assigned teams to the different tasks that needed doing to alter the array. She was also crosschecking the technique Lord Verena proposed against the archive of information she had from the capital, which only she had access to. But neither of those tasks took up too much of her focus. Indeed, most of her attention was on the conversation she was having with the city lord and the implications of what was happening. Both City Lord Cosgrave and the Dorchester Council of Leadership continued to push for more than she was able to give, and the legal restrictions she was under were beginning to chafe. Although she sympathized with their position, there wasn¡¯t anything she could do about it. ¡°So, you¡¯re saying that this is not a verified research direction already discovered and perfected by the kingdom?¡± the city lord asked skeptically. Replying quickly, Newbanks said, ¡°No, that¡¯s not what I¡¯m saying. I can not legally tell you anything about the kingdom¡¯s methods of scrying that you haven¡¯t locally developed. What I CAN tell you is that I am unfamiliar with this technique Lord Verena has come up with. Whether or not the kingdom is aware of it is not something I can confirm or deny.¡± Sounding rather fed up with Newbank¡¯s restrictions, the city lord asked tersely, ¡°Not that we don¡¯t appreciate you and Archmage Jennings being here, but don¡¯t you think it might be time to assign us a courtmage who is within our city¡¯s development level? We are at war you know.¡± While somewhat surprised at the city lord¡¯s audacity, Newbanks tried to sound sympathetic to her position when she replied, ¡°I¡¯m sure the archmage has his reasons for remaining, and in the interim, I will continue to do my best to serve the council to the best of my ability. Even though I may not be able to personally progress your technological levels, I assure you that I am doing everything I can to guide your mages to the answers you and your city need. However, if you are unhappy with the situation, you are of course free to register a formal complaint with the Tower of Magic in Hennings. The council of mages is always willing to work with the cities of Oglivarch.¡± Normally, cities were happy to have a mage or an advisor with experience and knowledge restricted under the law. Those types of people were able to offer wisdom and guidance that could shave years off a city¡¯s development. However, it seemed that the city lord was questioning the archmage¡¯s and her usefulness¡­ this was not something she had predicted. ¡°That will not be necessary. Dorchester is more than happy that you both are here to help us in our time of need. The council and I just believe that it might be more productive to have another point of view from a mage who isn¡¯t so¡­ restricted¡­ in what aid they can provide,¡± the city lord replied delicately. Keeping her mental presence over the link calm, she made sure none of her fury at the insult was being projected. ¡°I¡¯ll be sure to pass on your thoughts to the archmage at my earliest convenience. Is there anything else?¡± The city lord¡¯s presence recoiled slightly, making it clear that she knew she may have overstepped. Changing the subject, the city lord said, ¡°Concerning this new scrying technique, the report I was given showed that there is a good chance this might be able to pierce the kobald illusions and prove the validity of the map the dwarves have given us. While I understand you cannot compare it to the scrying methods you are aware of, can you at least tell us how likely it is that our mages are right to be optimistic?¡± Clearly, at the end of her patience, Newbanks replied sharply, ¡°As I¡¯ve already told you, I cannot comment on the technique. You¡¯ll simply have to wait until the array is altered and an attempt is made to scry into the mountain. If you¡¯ll forgive me, City Lord Cosgrave, I must return to overseeing the array¡¯s update.¡± After quickly cutting the connection, the frown on her face only grew more pronounced. Her normally stoic demeanor was obviously fraying. ¡®I shouldn¡¯t have overreacted like that,¡¯ she thought to herself angrily. Taking a few calming breaths, her expression smoothed as she redistributed her attention onto the other matters she was dealing with. At the core of her mind, she couldn¡¯t help but be preoccupied with the thought that the king must have known this would happen. When she¡¯d failed to get Lord Walker into the tower to personally utilize his abilities to scry the kobalds, the king had made it clear that it would all work out. How he could have predicted this outcome was beyond her. The fact that he did makes her feel all the more unnecessary. ¡®There¡¯s no point in questioning my purpose. All I have to do is to continue to do what he tells me. Whether I succeed or not is immaterial to his plans, as he¡¯s already taken everything into account,¡¯ she told herself once again, attempting to reassure herself. ¡ª-- After setting up his tent alongside everyone else''s, Nero couldn¡¯t help but chuckle at the fact that they were basically camping inside a giant cavern-turned-chamber inside a city fully encapsulated in a mountain. It was all so surreal. There was no weather to get avoid, and no monsters that needed an enchantment to confuse. Yet, everyone was still using tents for some privacy and sleep. Granted, the fact that they could activate the silencing function on them helped with the noise, but Nero still found it weird that they were even bothering with them. In the end, it did work out for him, as he could use the privacy for his meditation. Having told Merrick the mage that he was getting some rest, and asking him to alert him when they were ordered to move out, he ducked into his tent and set up his bedroll. The tent was larger than necessary, and much better than the one he¡¯d used while in the wilds, but still rather cozy. It made slipping into his inner world easier than it would be out among the crowd, and Nero quickly found himself back on the cobblestone path he¡¯d gotten familiar with. All around him the recent events and experiences he¡¯d gone through were floating around like wisps. There were more than he¡¯d expected as it hadn¡¯t been all that long since he¡¯d last dealt with them. It wasn¡¯t like he¡¯d done anything all that important, or at least he thought he hadn¡¯t. Checking his identity, he took stock of his progress.
Name Nero Walker Level 16
Race Human Growth 28%
Tier 1 Condition 100%
Age 14 Center 100%
Body 4 Mind 5
Soul 2 Confluence 11
Stars 0 Pillars 3/ 1
Nodding to himself in thought, he recalled the last time he¡¯d done this was the night before he¡¯d done the whole oath-giving ceremony thing. That was a few days ago¡­ maybe two? He wasn¡¯t entirely sure as the whole 30-hour day thing continued to throw him off. He¡¯d definitely slept more than once since then¡­ probably. Regardless, Nero pushed the pointless thoughts aside and dug into the memories and experiences that were waiting for him. Starting with the densest ones he could see, he found himself back in his estate giving his speech to the newly inducted wackos. Seeing it in the third person was just as cringe-worthy as it had been when he¡¯d been giving it. He really did look like a tool.The author''s tale has been misappropriated; report any instances of this story on Amazon. However, looking at it now, it was obvious that people seemed to have enjoyed it. And from what he could tell, no one looked all that bothered by his reluctant stance on leadership and responsibility. In fact, they seemed more than happy with it. Perhaps they were so used to micromanaging asshole lords that they were looking forward to working under someone more laid back and less controlling. ¡®Maybe I should set up a game room and snack table at the estate for everyone. Big ass companies do that for morale, right?¡¯ he thought to himself before wondering if they had ping-pong here. Slipping through the memories, he watched his interaction with the dwarves, noticing that he didn¡¯t look nearly as carefree as he¡¯d thought he had. Instead of coming off as a free-spirited young man, he came off more as a host trying to ensure that his guests were enjoying themselves. More and more memories went by¡­ His kicking out the nobles from his after-event party. The various interactions he¡¯d had with the people who worked at the estate. That time when he¡¯d found the former evaluators sneaking around. Even the little moments he¡¯d shared with the few wackos he¡¯d interacted with stood out to him as something worth internalizing. He found his actions and thoughts somewhat surprising when looked at from this new perspective. Nick having given him shit about not knowing about Thought Hubs, him being casually ordered around by Cathleen, and his respectful nods and greetings to people as they passed him by resonated with him. He didn¡¯t look nearly like the typical carefree jerk he was¡­ he actually looked and acted somewhat mature. ¡®Huh? Am I becoming boring?¡¯ he wondered, as he noticed that he hadn¡¯t been screwing with anyone in a while. Standing there on the path after all the memories had been cleared out, Nero realized that he¡¯d barely even noticed the brief fight he¡¯d had with the kobalds. Most of what had stuck to his soul as an experience worth noticing were his interactions with his followers and friends. His small deviations in personality and improved focus on the moment stood out as important in ways he didn¡¯t fully understand. Checking his identity, he saw that he¡¯d gained some more growth, but not nearly enough to level. Although, it was probably more than he should have expected.
Name Nero Walker Level 16
Race Human Growth 56%
Tier 1 Condition 100%
Age 14 Center 100%
Body 4 Mind 5
Soul 2 Confluence 11
Stars 0 Pillars 3/ 1
Rubbing his chin in thought, Nero tried to understand what was going on. The only thing he could come up with was that the pressure of so many people looking at him like he was important was getting to him. ¡®If enough people start treating you as a serious person, eventually you¡¯ll end up agreeing with them,¡¯ he told himself. He just wasn¡¯t sure about whether or not that was a bad thing. Having watched a version of himself looking somewhat competent was a new experience for him¡­ and not an altogether unpleasant one. It was clear that he¡¯d gone out of his way to handle the dwarves without them blaming him for the mountain¡¯s ownership snafu, while successfully shifting the issue onto the shoulders of the city¡¯s nobles and the kingdom. Not only that, but his wackos weren¡¯t treating their name like the joke he¡¯d originally meant it as. Everyone seemed proud of what House Walker was building, and the people he¡¯d put in charge of stuff were handling their positions well. ¡®Is this what useless CEOs feel like when they walk around their company seeing everyone doing their jobs and somehow blaming them for their success?¡¯ he wondered before realizing it was a pretty good feeling, despite how undeserving of their loyalty he felt. Looking around his inner world, he saw the sun shining brightly and the shadows from the trees dancing merrily around him. The path in front of him remained clear, and the stone path under his feet was getting flatter and more firm. There was a ¡®sense¡¯ that there was much further to go, but he was heading in the right direction. Smiling to himself in amusement at the imagery, he let himself return to his body. Back in his tent, he realized he¡¯d only been meditating for under an hour. Either due to his limited experiences to process, or his improved ability to process them, he seemed to be shaving off the time he needed to be meditating. Whatever the reason, it was good news, as he had a book to finish. Laying down on his bedroll, Nero stared up at the tent¡¯s canopy and closed his eyes. Opening up his link, he reopened the book Nick had given him and returned to the last place he¡¯d ¡®bookmarked¡¯. At around the halfway point in the book, the tone changed dramatically. No longer was it just covering the basics and sounding like an advert for the usefulness of Thought Hubs, it was now getting into the nitty-gritty of how and why they were made and what they were capable of. Having been told that the book was meant for schoolchildren, Nero found the progressively advancing content interesting. The earlier chapters were clearly meant for foundational learning, while the later ones required a more adult mindset to understand. He¡¯d never seen a book arranged like this before. Typically, books carried the same tone throughout all of their chapters and were meant for a specific audience. This one, on the other hand, seemed to be meant for long-term reading over many years. It was an interesting way to organize the study of a subject. In a way, he kind of thought it was better than requiring multiple books with varying reading levels. There was a more detailed chapter covering how the initial Thought Hubs were meant to deal with crime and monitoring of the citizens. When they were conceived, they hadn¡¯t been intended as a communication system at all. They were instead meant to be a forced observational tool to protect the citizens and prevent people from abusing their positions. Instead of having meant to stop muggings and the like, they were meant to stop people in power from sidestepping the laws. They were intended to protect the commoners. It came as such a surprise to Nero that he had to set the book aside for the moment and sit up to think about what he¡¯d just read. The nobles in power had been getting so fed up with people anonymously reporting abuses of power and issues with the assholes in charge that they conceived of a way for people to constantly be in contact with the authorities. To Nero, it sounded like the exact OPPOSITE of what a person in power would actually do. Diving back into the book, Nero had to reread several chapters to understand the subtext that he¡¯d been missing. There was a sense of community that he¡¯d been completely misunderstanding. The entire system of government they¡¯d set up was geared toward rewarding nobles for smoothly running their cities and keeping their people happy and progressive. Levels and moving along their path were all that really mattered to these people. What constituted ¡®power¡¯ and ¡®prestige¡¯ were not the same to them as what he was familiar with. As far as he was concerned, a system of government like this only worked because of the monitoring ability of the Thought Hubs. The technology saw and experienced everything, while not being able to actually express what it was witnessing to anyone in particular. What the Thought Hub could do was rather accurately give a happiness index for the city and highlight areas that were underperforming. Since it was completely based on how the people using it thought, it was inherently limited from violating anyone¡¯s personal preferences. It was like a giant mental metaphorical mirror that showed the entire city. Back when he¡¯d first been told that people in charge could find him easily through the Thought Hub, he¡¯d assumed that everyone was being tracked. But, that wasn¡¯t the case at all. While the Thought Hub could find anyone connected to it, there really DID need to be a valid reason for the person who was looking for them to find them. Everything about the Thought Hub and how it came to be was like a mental puzzle that Nero was having trouble wrapping his head around. The idea that the people in charge created it to avoid headaches was simply too absurd to believe. Yet, in a way, it sort of made sense. The government they set up required a massive amount of oversight, and to make it work, they needed an impartial system to watch over everything. What kind of person with power would want to spend their days reading complaints from underlings unhappy with their middle manager who was cutting their coffee breaks so their quarterly numbers would improve? The people in charge had better shit to do, so they spent their research budget looking for alternatives¡­ which then led to the Thought Hub. What really caused Nero¡¯s brain to overheat was the concept that the people in charge were so competent. There was an underlying assumption in their society that only people worthy of their position should have it. It was so counter to what he¡¯d grown familiar with that he had trouble understanding it. But, the people in charge had gotten there because they were powerful, and they only got powerful because they focused on things that mattered. You only leveled by being self-aware and controlling your vices, dedicating yourself to self-improvement, and being the best version of yourself. So, in a way, it seemed inevitable that the people in power were interested in efficiency. From there, Nero read all about how the different uses for it were discovered and optimized. He read about the coordinators who monitored the Thought Hub, and how they were basically just in charge of keeping the thing running and setting up automated queries. There was even an entire chapter on what it took to be a Thought Hub administrator and creator. Rather than being annoyed at having to read about the damn things, Nero found himself enjoying the subject more than he thought he would. It was all just so fascinating. Near the end of the book, the sections on Battle Hubs, and how they were developed were nothing short of intense. The idea that people in combat could share their impressions of the battlefield to create an overview that the commanders could interact with sounded like a real-time strategy game. This then led to the book¡¯s ending, which was interesting enough to have Nero¡¯s jaw drop. The ¡®Game¡¯ everyone always talked about was based on Thought Hub technology. Recalling Jennings mentioning something about how they created the game based on simulations made Nero realize that they were using the mental impressions that people actually HAD during recorded battles. It was no wonder that the Game could be so accurate in its portrayal of combat and intrigue. The Game they had created could simulate anything¡­ a whole encounter with units and leaders who had actual ¡®minds¡¯. It sounded absolutely crazy to him when he tried to summarize what he was reading in his mind. Hearing a tap on the entrance to his tent, Nero closed the book and tried to get his thoughts under control. Stepping over to the flap for the entrance, he opened it and asked, ¡°Yes?¡± Merrick the mage was standing there, holding a bowl of what looked like a stew. ¡°Food¡¯s ready, my lord. Would you like some?¡± Nero smiled in appreciation of the man¡¯s consideration while taking the bowl from him. ¡°Have Natalie or the scouts returned?¡± he asked. Merrick replied, ¡°Not yet, my lord. Lord Verena has though. He was asking after you, but I told him you were resting.¡± Nodding in understanding, Nero stepped out of his tent, still holding his bowl. ¡°Thank you, Merrick. I¡¯ll track him down.¡± Without another word, Merrick turned around and went off to rejoin Peter, the other mage, and the others. They all looked like they were having a good time. Nero, scooping up a bite of stew with the provided spoon chewed happily on a bit of meat. Meanwhile, he queried the link in his pocket for Nick¡¯s location. Mentally, he chuckled at the thought of his request being sent down through the ether, into his link, and over to the Battle Hub. There, the request would be processed based on his authority level, the intent and reason behind his request vs. Nick¡¯s desire to be found for such reasons. Having found a sufficiently sound reason to tell him where Nick was, the process would be reversed along the chain until a sense of Nick¡¯s current position in relation to Nero suddenly sat there at the corner of his mind for him to acknowledge. Chuckling merrily at the thought of how insane such a system was, Nero walked off toward Nick¡¯s tent to see what he wanted. ¡®I¡¯ll also have to get him to verbally admit that he doesn¡¯t think I¡¯ve read the book yet, just so I can make him look like an idiot,¡¯ he reminded himself while using the link to see if there were any available reference materials he had access to that could show him a spell form for stink bombs. Chapter 252 - Getting some answers and wasting some time. Plopping himself down on one of the recently manifested stone benches in the simple common room, Crusher pulled out a small keg of ale from his runically enchanted pouch and set it up on the shelf over his shoulder with a practiced one-handed flip. Without bothering to look, he filled a mug by activating the valve with his forefinger and gripping the mug with his thumb. ¡°Alright, so what do ¡®e think?¡± he asked tersely, wanting to hear everyone¡¯s impressions concerning the humans and their possible trading partner, Lord Walker. The other dwarves all took their seats, having pulled out their own kegs along with some food. The stone room was bare of anything other than essentials, and by its nature hid them from anyone scrying on them¡­ or at least scrying on them in ways that they knew about. Although, they knew well enough that human magics might be able to do what theirs could not. Not that that would have any bearing on how they conducted themselves. For the most part, dwarves weren¡¯t too considerate of anyone¡¯s opinions but their own. Mouth full of a hunk of meat, Darvina started the conversation off with a garbled, ¡°Well, tha melee and ability users ¡®ere all right enough, I s¡¯pose.¡± The other female dwarf in the party, Oskarni, replied, ¡°They all seemed pretty skittish to me. Not a lot of pushing or fighting to advance their position. Either they always fight in formation like that, or they were just willing to let the scaly bastards come to them.¡± Everyone was nodding in tentative agreement, not willing to make a determination as to the human''s true combat abilities just yet. Before Crusher could ask them about what they thought of the lad¡¯s magical display, Ullie spoke up. ¡°That kobald whatsis¡­ ya know¡­ that illusionary magical stone they used to hide their tunnel? That was interesting. It reminds me of the Sosex lights clan Naminor uses in their city for decorations and such.¡± Yornick, the fifth and last member of their little group, along with the oldest, replied quickly, ¡°What¡¯s a ¡®whatsis¡¯?¡± Now, translation magic worked for everyone, even dwarves. So, Yornick knew exactly what Ullie had meant. However, as a long-lived dwarf, he tended to enjoy stirring the emotional pot of whatever group he found himself in. And since everyone was speaking the same dialect of dwarven, they would recognize that Ullie had just made up a word¡­ most likely unintentionally. Yornick couldn¡¯t just let that go. Ullie was a younger dwarf, but still old enough to recognize what Yornick was trying to do. Therefore, he calmly took another sip of his ale and replied, ¡°I just meant that the enchantment the kobalds were using was interesting.¡± Yornick, not willing to drop it, smirked and asked, ¡°Yeah, I figured out that much. But, what¡¯s a ¡®whatsis¡¯?¡± Ullie, frowning in annoyance replied a little heatedly, ¡°Ya know damned well what I meant!¡± Yornick, now smiling replied, ¡°Oh? But what is a ¡®whatsis¡¯?¡± Darvina, chuckling, replied helpfully, ¡°I think it¡¯s a type of burrowing bird if I¡¯m not mistaken.¡± The entire group, other than Ullie who was getting progressively more annoyed, and Crusher who wanted to keep the conversation on track, were thoroughly enjoying themselves. Oskarni was openly laughing and patting her knee at Darvina¡¯s comment. ¡°It¡¯s not a bird! I was just expressing my interest in something I didn¡¯t know how to reference!¡± Ullie shouted. Fed up, Crusher intervened before Yornick could instigate any further argument. ¡°Would ye two shut up! We¡¯re having a serious meetin¡¯ here!¡± The giggling and chuckling died down, and Yornick ducked his head a bit to show that he wouldn¡¯t push it. Ullie on the other hand, leaned further back against the wall and crossed his arms in anger. His expression made it perfectly clear that he intended to sulk. His blood pressure rising alongside his anger, Crusher mentally cursed his luck at having to be the one in charge. Despite how annoyed he was at having to put up with this kind of nonsense, he tried to get the conversation back on track. Looking over at Ullie, he asked, ¡°Now, what were ya saying about the lizard¡¯s illusions?¡± Ullie, sounding exactly like a petulant child, replied, ¡°I thought you wanted me to shut up!¡± Yornick, Davina, and Oskarni all burst into laughter. Every dwarf has a limit, and that comment was enough to put Crusher right over his. With a vein twitching in his forehead, he launched his half-filled ale mug across the small room and struck Ullie directly in his face, knocking his head back against the wall and causing him to fall over off the bench he was using. While Davina and Oskarni¡¯s laughter grew, Yornick mockingly said while huffing in amusement, ¡°Well, Crusher, our fearless leader, I don¡¯t think ya¡¯ll be finding out about that whatsis now, will ya?¡± Knowing damn well that it was Yornick who¡¯d started this all, Crusher lept off the bench he was sitting on and tackled him. Right as he did, Ullie was just coming to his feet and shaking off the daze. When he saw Darvina and Oskarni both laughing hard enough to lose their breath, he was infuriated at seeing them enjoying themselves at his expense. Since Crusher was already in a fistfight with Yornick, his only option was to lash out at them¡­ so he did. Leaping across the room, he led with his fist directly into Darvina¡¯s face, his thoughts stuck on that comment she made about the fabled burrowing bird called the ¡®whatsis¡¯. While they tumbled together into another brawl, Oskarni drained the last of her ale and hurled her mug in the general direction of Ullie¡¯s back. ¡°Oi, ya right little bastard! Leave ¡®er alone!¡± she shouted with a mad grin before jumping onto the pile and twisting his beard. ¡ª-- Considering that their entire team was only 15 people, dwarves included, Nick wasn¡¯t all that difficult to find. Nero found him squatting in front of his freshly assembled tent, putting the finishing touches on the open flap. As one of the last to choose his spot, the tent was placed in what had become something of an ¡®outer ring¡¯ of their little camp. Looking over his shoulder, Nero frowned in confusion at the disruption in the essence flows that were coming out of the dwarven structure they¡¯d built. It felt like something was happening there, but he couldn¡¯t understand what it was. Something about the feel of the essence reminded him of a college frat party, but he wasn¡¯t sure why. Shrugging off the curiosity, he walked up right behind Nick. ¡°Hey, man. I heard you were looking for me?¡± he asked. Nick, seeming surprised at having been snuck up on, turned around and stared blankly at Nero for a second or two before remembering why he had been wanting to talk to him. ¡°Ah! Yes. I wanted to let you know what was happening with your idea,¡± he said while brushing off his robes and standing up. Nero, somewhat confused, replied, ¡°What idea?¡± ¡°The one about the kobald illusionary technique they¡¯re using to hide their tunnels?¡± Nick asked, equally confused. Nero, not remembering any idea he¡¯d had, but not that interested in getting into it, replied, ¡°OK. What about it?¡± Nick, happy to have the conversation returning to its expected course, replied, ¡°The first thing you need to be aware of is that it won¡¯t be easy to do. Our Tower of Magic¡¯s scrying array isn¡¯t configured for this type of thing, so a great deal of work is required to update it.¡± Nero, having no idea what Nick was talking about but wanting to move the conversation along, replied, ¡°Of course, that makes sense.¡± Nodding in commiseration with how much work was ahead of them, Nick continued, ¡°Currently, mages are already working on reconfiguring the impellent flow controls and course tracking crystals to measure the necessary frequency harmonics. I believe that we have a solid understanding of what we need to do, and they seem confident that they will be able to make do with their current design paradigm.¡± Nero kept his expression blank while wondering in his head if Nick was finished. While taking a seat on one of the folding chairs that someone had placed around the camp, Nick added, ¡°The next step for us is to get the survey teams here. We need to get as many readings from as many illusionary walls as we can find. The more data we have, the better our scrying attempts will be. The key, as you said, is to not focus on the projection they¡¯re displaying, but on the reality that they are hiding!¡± Nero could see that Nick was getting worked up but didn¡¯t know how he could possibly contribute so he kept his mouth shut.If you encounter this story on Amazon, note that it''s taken without permission from the author. Report it. ¡°The first of the teams are already on their way, and Cathleen has begun coordinating with command for their deployment. We¡¯ll be escorting them through some of the cleared areas and attempting to locate more false walls. Most likely, we¡¯ll be leaving within a few hours,¡± he said while tapping his fingers against his leg in thought. ¡°Once we have the data we need, we¡¯ll be able to confirm that we have control of the area and begin clearing out the mountain in detail. While the defensive positions the kobalds are currently holding may become more difficult to take, I agree with you that it is more important for us to consolidate our position before we push for more,¡± he stated emphatically. Nero, while keeping his confusion hidden, thought to himself, ¡®When the hell did I say that?¡¯ Lost in his own thoughts, Nick continued on, ¡°If your theory about the kobald illusionary techniques proves valid, we may be able to pierce their illusions on the lower city and truly see what we are dealing with. Then we can confirm what the dwarves have warned us about and start making some real plans on how we¡¯ll deal with them.¡± Pausing for a second, Nick¡¯s expression became serious as he looked up at Nero from his seat. ¡°If what you¡¯ve figured out turns out to be as important as I think it will be, you will have done a great deal to win us this war,¡± he said with no small amount of sincerity. Nero, still not having any idea what Nick was talking about, replied, ¡°Well, we¡¯re all just doing our part.¡± Not bothering to listen to any more of Nick¡¯s nonsense, Nero pulled out his trusty stump from his personal space and copped a squat. Changing the subject, Nero said smugly, ¡°So, I read that book on Thought Hubs you gave me. I found it a bit elementary, to be honest.¡± Nick, accepting the subject change easily enough, leaned forward in his seat and asked excitedly, ¡°You did? Already? That¡¯s wonderful! Feel free to ask any clarifying questions you have. I¡¯m more than willing to help.¡± Nero, not expecting Nick to ask for any follow-up questions, quickly began trying to come up with an intelligent question to ask. He did not want his best friend in this world to think he was an idiot. Thinking to himself, he tried to remember if he¡¯d had any questions worth pursuing while he¡¯d been reading the damn thing. He must have had some¡­ right? Before he could come up with anything good, he asked the first thing that came to mind, which unfortunately had to do with his recent search on the Thought Hub for prank spells. There had been so much information available, that he ended up getting distracted by a memory broadcast by two young mages who were intent on disseminating ways to use magic to mess with people. Although Nero had only been able to watch the introduction in the time he¡¯d had before he found Nick, it had been enough to pique his interest. ¡°How do people set up their channels for people to watch?¡± he asked, hoping that the question might be interpreted as remotely relevant. ¡°Good question! That¡¯s right, the book I gave you wouldn¡¯t have covered modern practices and uses of the city¡¯s Thought Hub,¡± Nick replied quickly, seemingly happy with Nero¡¯s chosen topic. Letting out a relieved breath, Nero tried to look interested as Nick began chattering away. He¡¯d come over here expecting to rub Nick¡¯s face in the fact that he¡¯d read the damn thing, not for a lecture. Yet again, Nero felt like Nick was putting another point in the win column at his expense. Even worse, what Nick was saying was actually somewhat interesting. According to him, the Thought Hub was available for everyone to use after they¡¯d awakened and sometimes before¡­ depending on their mental advancements. People used the technology like Facebook to update their friends and family on what they were up to. Groups used them to keep in touch with one another while sharing an account. Businesses and even arena teams used them to keep in contact with their fans and supporters. Even noble houses had their own for what sounded like P.R. purposes. Nero found it somewhat fascinating that the ¡®accounts¡¯, which were actually referred to as presences, could only be managed by people, as whoever had an account needed a mind and a spiritual presence to interact with it. Surprisingly, House Walker¡¯s was being handled by Natalie, and Nero took a moment to wonder if he¡¯d already at some point been told that. Nick went on to explain that news was distributed to the city through certified information distributors who were monitored by both the Center and the Council of Leadership. Laws were in place to ensure that only verified facts could be listed as ¡®news¡¯ and everything else was on the whole considered editorials. There were noble families that basically ran this part of the Thought Hub, and Nero couldn¡¯t help but wonder how effective that might be at limiting the information the average citizen ended up hearing. Houses and some of the fancier nobles had their own talk shows, although according to Nick that wasn¡¯t what they were called. The terminology Nick used was both odd and at the same time quite self-explanatory. When a person posted something, it was referred to as ¡®cast¡¯. Nick even went into explaining how the terms came to be. A person uploading a memory of an event was like ¡®casting¡¯ out their memory for other people to fish out from the sea of thoughts within the Thought Hub. Everything on the Thought Hub was memories, and there were even nobles who paid people to stand there and ¡®watch¡¯ as they discussed current events. The memory of the watcher would then be used as the memory that they cast onto their ¡®presence¡¯ in the Thought Hub. Nero found the entire thing both fascinating and at the same time rather limiting. The nature of the technology made concepts like imagination and fantasy completely impossible. If something hadn¡¯t actually happened, then no one could cast it. There was also a difficulty concerning long-term storage. Data and simple things could be kept in the swirling mass of thoughts quite easily, but the memories themselves tended to degrade over time. Nick ensured that Nero knew that overcoming that limitation was a core research direction that every city was intent on working on. Nero did end up asking a ton of follow-up questions, and as a result, they spoke for a few hours. Nero learned a great deal about how the common citizen lived with the Thought Hub, and what they used it for. He also had one of his earliest questions about the Center answered. The Center library''s Thought Hub, which was separate from the one for the city, included mountains of books and information. Books and such were not so easily ¡®downloaded¡¯ as they weren¡¯t memories. While someone theoretically could cast a memory of reading an entire book, it wasn¡¯t done due to its inefficiency. Nero had wondered why it was so much faster to watch a memory than it was to read a book, and now he knew. He still didn¡¯t necessarily understand why, but at least he understood that there was, in fact, an explainable reason. Plenty of the little questions Nero had always wanted to ask were easily handled by Nick, and Nero found himself for once actually understanding the answers. For a moment, he felt like he finally might be catching up with the general understanding of things that everyone else took for granted. Unfortunately, they eventually ran out of time as Natalie and the scouts had returned from wherever they had ended up going. Almost as soon as she finished briefing them on what their new mission was, everyone was already ready. Even the dwarves had somehow realized they were moving out and were lined up in front of their little stone building ready to go. Nero was somewhat unhappy to see that Nick¡¯s former aides were part of the survey team they were going to escort. It wasn¡¯t due to the fact that Nick was now ignoring him in order to spend some time with them, it was just that he hadn¡¯t been finished asking his questions. There was still so much he was unclear on, and so many little things that he still didn¡¯t understand about the city he was now living in. It had been a rare productive conversation, and he hadn¡¯t been ready for it to end. It wasn¡¯t like he could just ask a random person what kind of music they liked. Even if they answered, he wouldn¡¯t understand anything they said. He had no frame of reference. Nick at least understood that, and he was obviously becoming better at dumbing things down for Nero to comprehend them. Regardless, their new group quickly set off back for the tunnels. The survey team had their own team of scouts who would be working with theirs, so they all led the way. Altogether, their group now numbered 35. Hilariously, the dwarves still maintained their position in the rear, and their smaller stature made them practically disappear behind everybody. Nero, on the other hand, still found himself stuck in the middle. Luckily, at least this time he had a few more mages that he might get a chance to watch doing something. Or at least that¡¯s what he¡¯d hoped for. In actuality, the entire trip was as boring as a trip to the grocery store with his significant other. The whole thing took 4 hours, and all they ended up doing was watching as the survey team¡¯s scientists and engineers deployed their machines around 3 hidden walls the scouts had discovered. He and many of the others ended up being window-dressing, at best. Nero hadn¡¯t even been able to ask them questions about what they were doing, as they all looked too busy with their little fiddly knobs and essence readers. While he and the mages watched on, and the melee fighters maintained the perimeter, Nick led the survey team¡¯s investigation like a general leading his troops into battle. Science was truly the man¡¯s element. Optimistically, Nero understood maybe three words out of ten. He did however lean heavily on his translation ability to get the general idea of what they were doing. From what he could tell, they were trying to isolate the spell signatures of the kobalds that cast the spells. He also heard that they confirmed his theory that they weren¡¯t spells, but enchantments. Although he really wanted to ask them how they were powered, he realized that there wouldn¡¯t have been much of a point. Anything they explained to him, he probably wouldn¡¯t understand. Luckily, he didn¡¯t actually need them for anything. He had plenty of time to use his essence senses to get a good look at how the enchantments were made. While he doubted he¡¯d be able to copy them any time soon, he was at least able to determine how they worked. The kobalds had somehow cast a spell but tethered it to the ether by tying multiple flows in a bundle that looked like a kink in the essence flows. It allowed the spell to maintain its position and somewhat ¡®feed¡¯ off the flows that were keeping it in place. Had they not been evil scaley little murder asshats, Nero might have even been impressed. Rather than being a spell, it was instead like an enchantment hovering in the ether affecting reality. With nothing better to do, Nero spent most of his time either making small talk with the people around him, watching prank memories by ¡®Niel and Kevin¡¯ over the link, or just attempting to get a self-charging light spell to stick to the essence flows in the ether. Honestly, aside from the prank show, his success was rather middling. On the plus side, his ability to split his attention was growing. He had no problem streaming the show in his head through the link while he chatted with Merrick about his time at the magic academy he went to in some city called Catherton. Interestingly, citizens were able to change cities as long as their skill and overall level remained within their requested city''s development level. Magic academies provided the basics for the most part, but anything advanced was required to be taught by whatever city they ended up in. Considering their life spans, many people ended up transferring cities in order to move up the power ladder. Merrick¡¯s mention of the term ¡®climber¡¯ made Nero recall some of the references he¡¯d heard other people use before, and was happy to now have a little more context to understand what they had been talking about. But, back to the prank show he¡¯d been watching. ¡®Niel and Kevin¡¯ were two young guys who were studying at the Center in Gate 6 and uploaded, or cast, their show once or twice a month. In it, they described what spell forms they¡¯d found and where, and how they used them to piss everyone around them off. Nero loved it. His favorite episode so far was where Kevin enchanted his father¡¯s pipe to change the color of its smoke to green whenever it got hot enough. The memory of them hiding behind a bush and watching the man stare confusingly at the pipe until the smoke¡¯s color returned to normal, and then having to repeat the process over and over again as he began to get more and more agitated was priceless. The poor guy repacking his pipe with fresh tobacco, or whatever it was he using, over and over again caused Nero no end of amusement. It truly was amazing what a person could do with the reality-altering power of magic. Chapter 253 - Lead by example. Having been the youngest of seven children, Peter Rollins had always felt like an afterthought. While his brothers and sisters had always known exactly what they wanted to do with their lives, he¡¯d struggled to find a place for himself. At one time, he¡¯d thought he¡¯d end up being a flower merchant like his mom. Then he¡¯d wanted to be a blacksmith or a machinist like his uncle Owen. For a brief moment during his twenties, he¡¯d even considered being an arena mage. The one thing he¡¯d had going for him was his natural ability to sense and manipulate essence which he¡¯d been tested for during his education at the Center. It put him on the path of magic and got him accepted into some of the training programs in preparation for going to one of the academies. Unfortunately, he ended up never going due to the fact that he hadn¡¯t been accepted into the one he¡¯d wanted. Rather than going to a second-rate school, he instead signed up for the apprentice system in the local Tower of Magic. Being a member of the Tower would have allowed him to reapply every five years until he eventually got in. Working there at the Tower had been awful though, so much so that he ended up questioning his decision to even become a mage. The work was boring, and everyone there was better at everything than he was. They were always just DOING things, experiments, studies, competitions¡­ training. He simply wasn¡¯t cut out for it. So, he¡¯d left. His parents had been disappointed, along with the rest of his family. Eventually, he¡¯d gotten a job working for one of the smaller guard companies associated with the merchant¡¯s association in Gate 5. It was good money and more than enough to live on. He¡¯d been able to practice his magic at his own pace, and he¡¯d figured he¡¯d still eventually make his way to the Royal Academy in Hennings at some point. For years, he worked there, off and on taking contracts for shipping defense and warehouse protection. What had started out as a temporary choice had become his life. He¡¯d been in a rut, and his path had completely stalled. All of that changed when he¡¯d been out drinking with a few work friends at the arena. He¡¯d watched as a freshly awakened nobody took advantage of the fact that he was fighting at a low level to abuse an aspect of magic that he shouldn¡¯t have even been aware of. It had been both brilliant and crazy. From there, Peter had taken the time to learn all about the new Lord Walker. The young man had been a commoner just like him, but after being killed and reborn with a soul from another continent, that all changed. From nothing, he¡¯d raised himself up to nobility and learned magic all on his own. He¡¯d been ¡®alive¡¯ for basically weeks, and he¡¯d already done more than Peter had ever managed to do. It was inspirational enough to shame him into taking a good, hard look at his life. Then, he saw the speech Lord Walker made to his attendants. The young lord urged them to care more about their progress along their path, to stop wasting their lives, and to try and be MORE than they were. The sentiment had him clenching his fists in determination, and when the call went out for people willing to join House Walker, he stubbornly decided that it was time for a change. He would no longer just be floating through life, waiting for something to happen. No, he would be actively working on finding his path. It wasn¡¯t like he had any real ties here. He and his family weren¡¯t all that close, and he didn¡¯t have a significant other. He¡¯d always planned on leaving the city. This way, he¡¯d be seeing the world under a unique, and who knew where he¡¯d end up finding himself. Just last month, he¡¯d been drinking in a bar with his friends complaining about a stingy merchant not tipping enough, and now, he was in the mountain city fighting kobalds along with the army. The Walker was right, adventure really was worth pursuing. Hearing the Walker¡¯s question, Peter looked up from the ground he was staring at, and replied, ¡°Why¡¯d I join up, my lord? Um¡­ I don¡¯t know. I suppose it just seemed like a good idea at the time.¡± ¡ª-- It took several hours before Nick and his nerd squad were finished. When they were packing up, Nero couldn¡¯t help but stare at the illusionary wall in confusion. It made absolutely zero sense to him that they spent all that time tinkering with it and then DIDN¡¯T take the time to dismantle it. Walking over to Nick, Nero interrupted the man¡¯s conversation with a few of the more nerdy-looking people in robes. ¡°Hey, you guys know the fake wall is still there, right?¡± Nick exchanged a few uncertain looks with the science-types, then replied, ¡°Yes?¡± ¡°Well, aren¡¯t you going to¡­ I don¡¯t know¡­ take it down?¡± Nero asked somewhat angrily. The dorky-looking woman on Nick¡¯s right replied, ¡°Why would we do that? Leaving it here intact will allow us to take future measurements and scans if we need them. Everyone knows it¡¯s there, so it will no longer be fooling anyone. Disrupting the spell enchantment would serve no logical purpose,¡± she stated firmly as if it were obvious. Nero, while positive that she was wrong, was uncertain that he could explain his completely irrefutable reasoning to her. So, instead of arguing, he just said, ¡°Fair enough,¡± and walked away. Now that the survey team was finished, Natalie resumed control of the formation in short order. Everything was packed up and they were on the move back to the forward operating base as soon as possible. Nero took up his position alongside Merrick in the formation, all the while looking over his shoulder at the false wall that represented hours of his new life utterly wasted. Even knowing that Nick and his scientist buddies had a reason for what they¡¯d been doing, Nero still would rather have been DOING something. Their path back was as uneventful as their path there had been, and Nero found himself back at the little camp they¡¯d set up with the rest of the team. While Nick had offered him the opportunity to sit in on the meeting scheduled between the survey team and the Tower of Magic, and Natalie had asked if he wanted to take part in the command conference with Cathleen and the camp¡¯s leadership, Nero had declined on the grounds that he hadn¡¯t wanted to. Neither Nick nor Natalie had bothered to try and talk him into participating, so Nero decided to call it a win and forget about it. The rest of the day passed without incident, and Nero found small ways to entertain himself. The benefits of having access to the Thought Hub and all the interesting little shows people made were offset by his increased brain power. Even having part of his brain watching them, the rest of his mind was quite bored. It was like watching a show on the TV in the living room and still feeling the need to scroll through his phone or talk to the person next to him. So, Nero took the opportunity to get to know the rest of his team, aside from the dwarves that is. Those assholes holed up in their little stone bunker they made and kept completely to themselves. ¡®The little bastards are probably throwing a party with beer and snacks, laughing at the stupid humans in tents,¡¯ he thought to himself grimly. Meanwhile, the rest of the team circled around the center of their little camp as if there were a firepit there¡­ which there wasn¡¯t. But that didn¡¯t stop them from chatting with each other to pass the time. At first, Nero found the professional atmosphere somewhat like what he¡¯d assume a corporate retreat would be like. Eventually though, everyone seemed to loosen up. It was nice for Nero to be around what could be considered ¡®the normal¡¯ people in the kingdom. Up until now, he¡¯d basically been hanging around the elites and nobles. Everyone was so absurdly competent and serious that they consistently made him feel like an idiot. Yet, these people weren¡¯t like that at all. Both the Helens were simple warriors who¡¯d spent their days as guards for Precision Shipping and some storefronts. They shared some stories of what they¡¯d gone through and some amusing tales of people failing to rob the places they¡¯d worked at. One of the Helens, the one with brown hair, spent her free time taking classes on pottery and gardening at the Center. While the other Helen, the blonde, enjoyed arena fighting, both watching and participating. Hearing them talk about their lives was both informative and kinda illusion-shattering. Neither of them was all that different than the standard blue-collar workers he¡¯d used to hang out with. That was, aside from the fact that they occasionally fought things and people to the death for a living. The scouts, Victor and Sam, were both rather quiet. When the group had asked what they did for fun, they both replied, ¡°Training,¡± and left it at that. Nero likened them to the hardworking grunts that kept society running while never getting anywhere in their professional lives. Prime candidates for his future bowling league without question. Claire, the last woman of the group, took the opportunity to complain that she was forced to use a sword and shield instead of her preferred spear since there weren¡¯t enough people on their team for a solid line of defense. Nero found it interesting that she was a spear user who used to be a combat instructor for the Center. She had three kids who were already grown up and off on their own, and two former husbands that she still kept in contact with. Her jolly yet complaining tone reminded Nero of a P.T.A. mom who had too much time on her hands.Stolen content alert: this content belongs on Royal Road. Report any occurrences. Even Merrick and Peter weren¡¯t all that ¡®fancy¡¯ when they started talking. Merrick, Nero had already learned about through their chats, but Peter surprised him by being even more down-to-earth and unimpressive. The guy looked pretty ordinary, and his personality matched him perfectly. Peter had come from a family of merchants whose parents got their start with a flower store. His brothers and sisters were all off starting their own businesses while he was still trying to figure out what he wanted to do. He¡¯d gone to one of the magic schools in the city with the hope that he would one day go to one of the larger academies, but he never ended up going. In fact, Peter wasn¡¯t even sure if magic was what he wanted to do with his life, and he made it clear that working his way up the ladder of the Tower of Magic was something he had absolutely no interest in. Most of his free time was spent in the bar with his friends. Nero of course, asked why on earth he signed up as a follower of House Walker if he didn¡¯t want a life of adventure and danger. In response, Peter just shrugged and said that he felt like a good idea at the time. This was, of course, a sentiment that Nero could appreciate, so he didn¡¯t push. Without a sky overhead, the rest of the day passed without anyone looking at their mental clocks. Nero found himself enjoying his time with the wackos, hearing about their lives and what they were into. He even learned a lot about how the average citizens in Dorchester spent their days and how they lived their lives. He learned about each of their pillars, as no one bothered to keep theirs a secret. Most of them were pretty dull, like Peter and his ¡®momentum¡¯ pillar. While in the future it sounded like it might end up being impressive, right now it just allowed him to keep maintaining what he was doing at a reduced cost. It made his contribution to any spell shield he was a part of disproportionate to the effort he put in. Merrick¡¯s ¡®intensity¡¯ pillar did something similar, but instead of keeping the cost down, it magnified his spell¡¯s effects. Both had put most of their stars from their level-ups into them, which seemed to be pretty common as everyone else did the same with theirs. Nero listened more than he talked, as every time he spoke up, the cheerful atmosphere in the ether got disturbed. His identity as ¡®The Walker¡¯ was enough to get everyone to clam up and pretend for a moment to be serious. Luckily, as time passed, he got progressively better at using his essence technique to get them to forget he was there. Just being in the background and enjoying the conversation going on around him was enough for him to feel like he belonged. He¡¯d forgotten what it was like to feel as if he were just one of the guys. It was nice. He recalled what Jennings and Nick had warned him about, how his altered mind caused him to focus too much on being an adventurer and not an actual person, and he couldn¡¯t help but agree with their point. He¡¯d forgotten how to just stop focusing on the next trial or opportunity for advancement and just live in the moment. On the other hand, as he watched Merrick trying and failing to teach Peter how to improve his ¡®acid ball¡¯ spell form, Nero realized why none of these people were among the elites. It wasn¡¯t that they were unskilled or weak, they were just so ¡®average¡¯. He¡¯d gotten used to being around Nick and Jennings, who were both rather impressive. Even the warmage he¡¯d briefly studied under made these people look like they were children playing at being mages. ¡®These guys kinda suck,¡¯ he thought to himself with a grimace. He sort of liked these people, and he felt kinda uncomfortable realizing that in many ways he was already way ahead of them. They¡¯d lived their whole lives trying to be better, to strive for more, and they hadn¡¯t progressed nearly as far as they¡¯d have liked to. Every one of them gave up everything to join House Walker in the hopes that a change would give them the push to be something more than the average person they were, but no amount of desire could overcome a lack of talent. Not without a lot of effort that is. Nero couldn¡¯t help but accept that he was just lucky. Everything here came easy to him. He could ¡®see¡¯ the essence flows in the ether, and his mind practically recorded every spell form he saw. Calling him talented was like calling Usain Bolt pretty quick. Standing up from his stump, Nero let the technique he was using to hide himself drop. Like a teacher walking into a classroom, his presence immediately ruined the happy and relaxed atmosphere. Every one of their heads turned to him in both confusion and surprise, having completely forgotten that he was there. ¡°I don¡¯t want to interrupt your time off, so don¡¯t feel like you have to participate. But, if any of you would like, I¡¯ll be setting up a training ring over there,¡± he gestured off toward one of the walls of the chamber. ¡°If you¡¯d like, we can try and get some training in while the people with the proper chairs decide what we¡¯re going to be doing. Who knows, maybe we¡¯ll all have something to teach each other. But, like I said, this isn¡¯t mandatory or anything. So, feel free to just hang out here if you¡¯d like. I know this sounds like I¡¯m hinting that you should take me up on this, but I honestly don¡¯t mean it like that.¡± Rubbing the back of his neck awkwardly, Nero finished his offer, ¡°Anyway, I¡¯ll be over there if anyone needs me, or is interested in working on anything.¡± Not forgetting to return his stump to his personal space, Nero walked away quickly. He¡¯d been planning on working on some spell forms that he¡¯d found on the Thought Hub, but he hadn¡¯t expected to invite anyone to train with him. He knew he was doing it out of guilt, or maybe a sense of responsibility, but it really wasn¡¯t like him so he felt somewhat uncomfortable about it. Arriving at the wall, Nero scoped out a good place to set up a training ring. He could feel the ether here wasn¡¯t particularly suited to training, but instead felt like it used to be a marketplace. He could almost see the shadows of past shops and buildings filling up the walls with their wares. Yet, now they were all gone, and only empty stone remained. For a moment, he wondered how the kobalds had decorated the place when they¡¯d been here. Shrugging off the thought, he reached into his personal space to pull out one of the books he¡¯d been given by Jennings before he¡¯d gone into the wilds. It was a book on surviving as a hunter which he¡¯d skimmed. There was a spell form inside that he figured would be perfect for what he intended to work on. Flipping quickly through the pages, he found what he was looking for. Holding the book with one hand as a reference, he slowly carved a spell form in the ether. It was one of the recommended spells for setting up a camp, and it did nothing more than even out the ground while erecting a small rounded ring around the area. The ground was already flat and made of stone, so the rounded lip around the ring copied the pattern. While the spell itself was intended to alter the ground permanently, the ring should last around thirty minutes. In the wilds, it was a great way to keep everyone within the range of an enchanted protection circle. Nero found the spell interesting for several reasons. The first, and most important, was the fact that it actually affected reality by making the ground flat. According to the book, it did this by ¡®moving¡¯ what made up the ground rather than creating anything. It was a force spell, not a creation spell. Depending on how much debris and crap was in the way, the spell could be costly or incredibly easy to cast. In this case, the ground was already completely smooth, so it was practically free. The only effort he needed to put forth was to ¡®create¡¯ the ring at the edge. That part of the spell was an earthen spell form that he found very similar to the pillar spell he liked to cast. After the spell was cast, Nero didn¡¯t drop the spell form. Instead, he just stared at it as if he were trying to discover its secrets. He¡¯d thought a lot about how a city like this could have been built, and the only conclusion he¡¯d come to was that the people who¡¯d built it had relied heavily on spells like this. Rather than cut out the stone, they¡¯d probably just compressed it into the walls around them, building the place up as they dug deeper into the mountain. ¡®It must have been exhausting,¡¯ he thought to himself, not envying them at all. As he stared at the spell form, he tried to isolate the parts that he recognized while focusing on the ones he didn¡¯t. It was the unfamiliar parts that were responsible for the effects he was interested in. ¡°A camp spell, my lord?¡± a voice asked from behind him. Nero, having not been focusing on his essence field, was a little caught off guard by someone having snuck up on him. Quickly recapturing the center he¡¯d used for the spell form, Nero turned around to see everyone from the team standing there watching him. Merrick was out in front, and obviously the one who¡¯d had enough guts to speak up. Smiling widely at them all willing to show up for his impromptu training session, Nero replied, ¡°Yeah, I was just trying to figure out how it affects the real world without making constructs.¡± Merrick turned to Peter, who was standing right next to him, and said, ¡°I believe Peter has some experience with material patterning, my lord.¡± Peter, rubbing his hands a little as if he weren¡¯t sure he wanted to actually be there, replied, ¡°Yes, my lord, I did a little work with the construction crews for the city. I can walk you through some of the alteration spells I learned for the brickwork if you¡¯d like. They¡¯re not all that complicated for someone like you, but they might help you figure something out. I mean, if you¡¯d like, that is¡­ my lord.¡± Everyone else was just standing there, watching. Nero, not wanting this to turn into all of them just focusing on him, replied, ¡°OK. First off, you guys can cut the ¡®my lord¡¯ crap. I¡¯m barely a noble. To be honest, I¡¯m more like you guys than I am like them. So, let¡¯s just stick with ¡®Nero¡¯, alright?¡± Although they looked uncomfortable with the idea of just referring to him as Nero, they eventually nodded along in agreement. Nero, having already had an idea of how he wanted this to work, started breaking them up into pairs and spreading them out. He used the spell a few times to set up some more rings while Victor helped out by marking the raised areas off with chalk which he pulled out from somewhere. According to Peter, even after the constructed ring disappeared, the chalk would remain so they could keep the training areas separate. Taking advantage of having heard countless motivational quotes from the internet, Nero encouraged them all to take advantage of the opportunity to train. He assured everyone that he could heal them if they ended up hurting each other, so they could feel free to wail at each other to their hearts'' content. ¡°We¡¯ll be down here fighting kobalds for a while, and based on how slow this campaign looks to be going, we¡¯re going to have a lot of downtime. While we could spend that time just waiting for stuff to happen, we can instead take the opportunity to push ourselves. What blood we spill now in training is blood we won¡¯t be spilling when we are out there in the thick of the fighting. Work hard now, and fight easy later. Learn all you can from each other, and don¡¯t hold back. Down here, in the dark, we¡¯re all that we have to rely on. If you can teach someone something that ends up saving your own ass, then you haven¡¯t wasted your time in training them,¡± he declared firmly, trying to channel his inner motivational speaker. Turning away to rejoin Merrick and Peter in what¡¯s become the center ring of their little training area, Nero remembered to remind them, ¡°If anyone gets hurt or accidentally kills someone, just give me a shout. I haven¡¯t run into anything I haven¡¯t been able to heal, so don¡¯t worry about injuring each other. That said, do your best to not need me. The point of training is to learn how to NOT get hit, not how to survive a beating.¡± Nodding to himself, Nero made his way back over to the mages. ¡°Now boys, let¡¯s talk about altering the world around us through magic,¡± he said with an eager grin while rubbing his hands together in excitement. Chapter 254 - What it means to be a Wacko. ¡°So, to summarize our current talking points¡­ Firstly, House Verena is both the representation of House Walker in Dorchester, and also a house on the rise with power and prestige of its own. Secondly, after acquiring all of the assets Lord Walker had in the city, House Verena is looking forward to the new ladder rankings and is expected to earn an impressive placement despite its recent founding. Thirdly, House Verena¡¯s trading houses are to be highlighted through all of our promotional channels. We¡¯ll focus on the great deals for essence crystal trades and affordable gear for hunting and combat,¡± pausing what she was saying, Mallorie checked her notes before asking, ¡°Are you sure we should continue to push the narrative of Lord Walker¡¯s impressive rise to nobility? Now that he¡¯s officially a unique with his own house, it might be time to begin distancing House Verena¡¯s public image.¡± Tapping her chin in thought, Vera Salvatore-Verena replied, ¡°You¡¯re right, of course. However, we can¡¯t just stop talking about Lord Walker. Everyone in the city is too interested in watching him. At least right now, that is. His growing legend is writing itself at this point. What we need to do is borrow on that interest to push House Verena forward in the public¡¯s consciousness. At first, we wanted everyone talking about him, now we want everyone talking about US. When he eventually leaves Dorchester, that will be the time to push House Verena forward.¡± Everyone at the conference table nodded in understanding, furiously taking notes while thinking how to best adjust each of their departments¡¯ marching orders. ¡°For now, we¡¯ll continue to take advantage of the city¡¯s war footing and continue building our forces. No noble wars can be declared until the end of the current emergency, so we should have plenty of time to grow. However, that shouldn¡¯t stop us from pushing hard on the recruitment front. Every house is looking to expand, and the army is practically begging people to join them. We need to give people a reason to sign up with us,¡± she said with some heat in her tone. Looking around the room with her fierce glare, she stated, ¡°Prestige, Money, and Future Power. Those are the three pillars of a successful recruitment campaign. People naturally want to follow a house on the rise. We need to ensure that everyone in this city knows that is us¡­ House Verena.¡± Seeing them all straightening their shoulders with renewed purpose, Vera offered them a proud nod before ending the meeting. ¡°You all have your assignments, be sure to keep Mallorie informed as to your progress. For now, you¡¯re dismissed.¡± Everyone filed out. Even Mallorie, the director of House Verena¡¯s public relations, headed out to go see to her duties after seeing Vera wave her off. Watching them leave, Vera waited until the door to the conference room finally closed before relaxing her gaze. The moment she was alone, she let her stoic expression fall as her shoulders sagged in exhaustion. While managing a noble house had always been her goal, she hadn¡¯t expected it to happen so soon. Yet, the situation with the density shift and the kobald war, along with the offer from House Walker was too tempting an opportunity to pass up. Acquiring Nero¡¯s local assets while being officially tied to a Unique House had saved her years of development. The tax benefits alone, along with the ability for her entire House to fall under the legal exemption concerning the exploit he¡¯d discovered made the choice to put all her plans into motion now obvious. Yet, she couldn¡¯t help but wonder once again if she should have waited and just stuck to her plan. If it weren¡¯t for the protection of the emergency protocols, half the houses in Dorchester would be coming together to destroy her. House Verena was simply too economically powerful for how small it was. But, she had time. And just as importantly, she had money. With the new trading houses, the preferred contracts with House Blackwood, and Precision Shipping doubling in size, not to mention partial ownership of the city¡¯s arena, the influx of valens allowed her a great deal of room to maneuver. The density shift was expected to last at least 5 years at the minimum, and if she were careful, she could use that time to raise House Verena to one of the most powerful houses in Dorchester. Mentally reviewing her numerous business plans, recruitment efforts, counterplots, and schemes¡­ she couldn¡¯t stop herself from smiling evilly as she looked out the conference room window over Dorchester¡¯s Gate 11 trade district. ¡ª-- Nero started diving into the spell forms that Merrick and Peter knew right away. He wanted to know everything they¡¯d learned in their magic schools as soon as possible. So, he first started by having them give him an overview of how they¡¯d been taught. Merrick spoke up first, discussing how he had begun his path to becoming a mage while still in school at one of the Centers here in Dorchester before going off to study in Catherton. He talked about the standard suite of classes that every beginner mage had to take. Introduction to Essence. Beginner Spell Form Creation. Essence Focus and Manipulation. Also, the more theoretical and historical classes which covered things like regional flow rate analysis and essence crystal economics. While he summarized the various beginner topics, Peter occasionally chimed in with examples of where his educational background had differed. Specifically how he¡¯d taken the same classes at the Center near him, but focused more exclusively on the application of magic than the broader aspects of magical education. Nero listened closely, trying to gauge how ¡®average¡¯ an experience they might have had compared to most of the mages he¡¯d run into. After all, he needed to know if their level of spellcasting was indicative of what most mages like them were capable of. Because having seen them casting a few spells, he¡¯d come to understand that he¡¯d been wildly overestimating what most mages could do. After having them both cast a few of their favorite spells, he had to physically stop himself from wincing at how slowly they carved into the ether. Not only that, but they absolutely SUCKED at recovering their center from the spell forms they¡¯d cast. It was no wonder mages were always running out of center if that¡¯s how they did it. When Nick had bragged about how skilled he was, Nero honestly hadn¡¯t taken him all that seriously. Although he probably should have, considering the guy had been the damned Director of Research for an entire Gate¡¯s Center. In this world, people who sucked wouldn¡¯t have scored a fancy-ass job like that. Whether it was just due to luck or talent, or maybe just because he hadn¡¯t known any better, Nero had been using Nick and Archmage Jennings as the standard he measured himself by. Their casting speed was quick and precise, and their control over their center was top-notch. He¡¯d mistakenly thought that all casters would have been casting low-level spells just as easily as they did. ¡°No! Just¡­ stop for a second and listen,¡± Nero snapped while pinching his nose in frustration. ¡°When you carve your spell form into the ether, you have to keep the visualization of what you¡¯re doing steady in your mind. If you waver for a moment, the center you¡¯re using will become inefficient and begin to leak. It¡¯s not only a matter of knowing what you¡¯re doing, but it¡¯s about paying attention to what you¡¯re doing. Don¡¯t get distracted! Now, do it again!¡± he ordered firmly. Peter, who was currently attempting to work on the ¡®acid ball¡¯ spell he¡¯d been having trouble with, nodded uncomfortably before trying again. Nero watched closely as Peter¡¯s center stretched out from his hand in a small tendril of essence and began using it to carve a spell form into the ether. The man¡¯s center clung weakly to the ether as if it weren¡¯t sure it should be intruding on the essence flows moving around it. The spell form took over 10 seconds to stabilize, and Nero winced every time some of the center escaped as wasted mist. Finally¡­ miraculously¡­ the spell form solidified and began to divert the essence flowing around it to charge itself. After watching the tennis ball sized globe of acid launch itself at the pillar he¡¯d erected, Nero said grudgingly, ¡°Good. Better. Now do it again.¡± Nero wasn¡¯t sure how, but he was beginning to sense Peter¡¯s center levels. It was like the man¡¯s presence in the ether was weakening. From a certain perspective, the less center the man had, the less ¡®real¡¯ he was. Nero had read about how center worked, but he¡¯d never seen it so clearly exemplified until the man slowly began to fade from his senses like a ghost. Merrick who was nearby was already sitting down meditating to regain his center, Nero having already spent some time ¡®teaching¡¯ him the correct way to recover what he¡¯d put into his spell forms. Nero wasn¡¯t exactly sure why, but both Peter and Merrick kept trying to just ¡®grab¡¯ whatever center they¡¯d put into their spell forms and shove it back into their bodies like their center was an object. He¡¯d tried to explain to them that center was just essence, and it therefore had its own flow that they needed to control. Yet, no matter what he said, or how he said it, they simply didn¡¯t get it. It was like watching an idiot trying and failing to smash a round peg into a square hole over and over again. Sighing in frustration, Nero told Peter to stop for a second before pulling Merrick out of his meditation so he could talk to them both. ¡°Alright, listen. I know you guys can¡¯t see essence like I do, but you do still ¡®see¡¯ it, right?¡± he asked hesitantly, trying to figure out what they were missing. While Peter nodded, Merrick explained, ¡°Every mage can see essence. But we don¡¯t see the flows that you keep talking about. It¡¯s more like waves of mist that solidify into indistinct shapes of essence for spell forms.¡±The narrative has been taken without authorization; if you see it on Amazon, report the incident. Peter added, ¡°It¡¯s really colorful. Does that help?¡± Nero, choosing to ignore Peter, replied, ¡°I think I¡¯m beginning to understand what you¡¯re saying. You guys all rely on the science to understand what it is that you can¡¯t see. To you, it¡¯s just blobs and balls of shapes that don¡¯t mean anything. You¡¯re stuck having to imagine how what you¡¯re doing with it while interacting with the ether. You¡¯re like blind people trying to memorize how to walk through a room while some asshole keeps moving the furniture.¡± Sounding as if he were trying to sound profound, Peter replied, ¡°Yes, but blind people can be healed, right?¡± Nero, this time taking the time to glare at the man, replied, ¡°Peter. Stop talking. Now.¡± Merrick, too caught up with what Nero was saying to notice Peter¡¯s shoulders slumping, replied, ¡°So, what we need to do is work on our visualization and understanding of the process. Isn¡¯t that what we¡¯ve always been doing though?¡± Nero had no response to such a logical reply, so he instead opted for some ¡®the magic has always been inside you¡¯ bullshit, replying, ¡°Is it? Because it looks to me like you¡¯re spending too much time focusing on the image you have in your head rather than the image of what your spell form is projecting into the ether. It¡¯s a matter of belief and mastering yourself. Always remember, you ARE your center, and your center IS you.¡± Both Peter and Merrick nodded seriously as if Nero had given them a lot to think about. While they both returned to their training, and Nero was about to begin on his own, he ended up for the first time looking around at how everyone else was doing. Whatever good mood he¡¯d had going by pretending to be a wise and all-knowing magic teacher vanished like a fart in the wind when he saw what his Wackos were up to. They were all paired off like he¡¯d asked, and they were technically all sparing with each other. However, that¡¯s all they were doing¡­ sparring. It was painfully clear that they had no intention of actually hurting each other, or even remotely pushing themselves. With how little effort they were putting into their training, he seriously doubted they were getting anything of it. Muttering to himself, he said, ¡°I should have realized something was wrong when no one bothered to ask me for healing or to resuscitate anybody.¡± Raising his voice in anger, he shouted, ¡°Everyone! Get your asses over here now!¡± Like children being called in from the playground, they all gathered around in a circle with smiles on their faces. Could they not sense how pissed he was? ¡°What the hell are you doing? Do you think we¡¯re here for a picnic?¡± he shouted. Seeing their smiles fade, he took a perverse pleasure in watching their faces pale. It reminded him of when he¡¯d get to catch some of his employees at the cell phone store smoking behind the dumpster. Why they couldn¡¯t sneak a few puffs on a vape like a professional, he¡¯d never understand. ¡°If you don¡¯t want to take this seriously, there is no reason for you to be here. This was supposed to be voluntary. I¡¯m not going to make you train, or watch over you like some kind of asshole forcing you to kill each other. If you don¡¯t WANT to kill each other during training, then there really isn¡¯t any point in you being here,¡± he said firmly. Seeing the confusion on their faces, he said, ¡°This world has healing magic that can regrow limbs and bring you back from the dead. Anything you do to each other is temporary at best, and nothing you should be worrying about. Training is an opportunity for you to go all out on each other and push yourselves to your limits while knowing that you will survive. If you¡¯re not going to push yourselves, then it is not training¡­ it¡¯s just a waste of time.¡± While some of them were obviously getting it, others still still looked a little confused. Turning to Peter and Merrick, Nero asked, ¡°Can either of you heal or resuscitate people?¡± Both men looked at each other before Merrick replied, ¡°No, my lord¡­ I mean Lord Walker¡­ I mean-¡± Waving off the rest of Merrick¡¯s rambling, Nero said, ¡°That¡¯s fine, don¡¯t worry about it. We¡¯ll work on it later.¡± Turning to the rest of the group, he said, ¡°It doesn¡¯t matter, I¡¯ll handle the healing myself. Just none of you aim for the head. I haven¡¯t figured out how to come back from that on my own yet.¡± Claire, both Helens, Victor, Sam, Peter, and Merrick all stared at each other in confusion, not understanding what Nero was getting at. Drawing his sword, Nero said menacingly, ¡°I¡¯m going to attack you all now. You can do whatever you can to stop me. If on the off chance you end up killing me, I¡¯m sure there¡¯s at least a few healers nearby that can bring me back. Although, I doubt I¡¯m the one who¡¯s going to be needing healing based on how scared you all are of hurting each other.¡± Without another word, he launched himself forward at the closest person who happened to be Sam, one of the scouts. While Sam did have a dagger and a shortsword out, he obviously hadn¡¯t been expecting one hundred and fifty pounds of crazy Nero to come flying at him like a missile. He¡¯d barely managed to get his sword up in defense before Nero slammed into him. Having not bothered to put up a mage shield, or any sort of protection, Nero¡¯s entire focus was on the fight. Even being multiple levels lower than him, Nero still managed to stab deeply into his chest with his sword. While not consciously empowering his blade with essence, Nero was using an essence blade technique on instinct at this point. Screaming in pain, Sam folded like a chair, dropping his sword and falling to the ground. Rather than pursuing him to finish him off, Nero let the man bleed out on his own and spun on the balls of his feet the moment he hit the ground. Victor, who¡¯d been watching in shock just stood there like an idiot as he felt Nero¡¯s blade lash out, basically eviscerating him. While Victor fell to his knees in pain, trying and failing to stop his intestines from falling out, Nero had already moved on. Peter died from a throat slash, while Merrick was struck down by a vicious slash across his entire back as he¡¯d instinctively turned away. The Helens were quick enough to mount something of a defense. However, they didn¡¯t have the presence of mind to really put any thought into what they were doing. The only thing that saved them from being taken out in a single move was the fact that they both had shields. After slashing futility a few times against their shields as they backed away, Nero ducked into a forward roll to disappear from their sight, using their shields against them. He performed the same maneuver Cathleen had caught him with too many times for him to count. From a crouch, he chopped out at their shins with his blade. Unfortunately, the heavy armor they were using was too much for him to just shear through, but he still managed to bring both of them to their knees. By the time he rose to his feet, they were both leaning on their shields, leaving them wide open to what was becoming his patented throat slash. Claire, being left for last, had more than enough time to get her head in the game. She¡¯d been a combat instructor for decades, and she was more than capable of handling a life-and-death battle that she hadn¡¯t been expecting. That being said, she wasn¡¯t prepared for an opponent like Nero. When he¡¯d turned on her, and lashed out with his sword, she¡¯d parried with her shield and stabbed forward expecting him to dodge. Nero however, used her attack as an opening to skewer himself in the stomach to trap her blade. Grinning madly, he watched in delight as her eyes widened in shock. Before she even realized what was happening, she was clutching Nero¡¯s blade which was now halfway into her throat from a stab as her shield fell to the floor with a clang. As she dropped to the floor and bled out, Nero stood over his entire team like the wrath of some war god watching over them in judgment. With nothing more than a slight exhalation of pain, Nero pulled out Claire¡¯s sword from his stomach and began stamping his healing spell into the ether. His wound lit up like a lantern as part of his mind guided his flesh into reknitting itself. Considering how many times he¡¯d been carved up by Cathleen, he barely had to pay attention to what he was doing. Meanwhile, his eyes were scanning the team to see who¡¯d most likely bleed out first. After sheathing his sword, he walked over to Sam and began bringing him back with a healing and resuscitation spell. He first rebuilt the man¡¯s spine which had been chipped by Nero¡¯s sword on its way out, then carefully fixed the more fleshy bits. ¡®It¡¯s disturbingly easy how simple it is to put a body back together with magic,¡¯ he thought to himself grimly. Once done with fixing what he¡¯d done to Sam¡¯s body with his sword, Nero used the resuscitation spell to dive into the man¡¯s soulscape and bring him back. Considering the man had just died, it wasn¡¯t all that difficult. In fact, the man¡¯s soul seemed to leap back into its body while staring at Nero¡¯s mental representation of himself in awe. One after another, Nero healed and resuscitated everyone. As they handled being dead about as well as anyone else he¡¯d seen, no one bothered him while he worked. Instead, they all just shivered and tried to regain some semblance of balance in their minds until Merrick, who¡¯d been the last to actually die from blood loss was brought back. Now standing over them as they looked up at him in terror, Nero said, ¡°I understand that you might not like what I¡¯m about to tell you. But, you¡¯re just going to have to decide whether or not you¡¯re able to handle it.¡± Taking his time to meet each of their eyes, he kept his voice as steady and supportive as possible. ¡°It¡¯s a fact that this world is filled with wonder and magic. I don¡¯t know half of what¡¯s possible here. There¡¯s probably cool stuff that I haven¡¯t even heard of that will drop my jaw in awe the moment I see it. You¡¯ve probably gotten so used to seeing these amazing things that you¡¯ve begun taking them for granted. But, there is another side of the world that you can¡¯t just ignore. It¡¯s the side of the world that has kobalds coming out of the ground trying to eat you. There are walls taller than buildings surrounding this city for a reason. Danger means something entirely different here, and as someone who¡¯s chosen to fight, that¡¯s what you¡¯ll be facing¡­ the darker side of the world. You can choose to straddle the line and half-ass your training, taking years to master techniques. Or, you can embrace the madness, and throw yourself into the grind. Push yourself every moment you can to live for one more second so that whoever chooses to be your enemy dies first. Trust that someone will be there to heal you, or even better learn to heal yourself. Training rings are places where you bleed and die in a controlled environment, and coming here to play around is wasting that opportunity.¡± Seeing them all staring at him like he was absolutely batshit crazy, Nero grinned and decided to steal some of his favorite cliches. ¡°Pain is nothing more than your body''s attempt to tell you that something is wrong. You can¡¯t ignore it, but you can simply acknowledge it before moving on. Always remember, pain is just weakness leaving your body. I¡¯ve been shown that the world will help you learn to fight if you listen to it, so when you¡¯re here in this ring, make sure the entirety of your being is here with you. There is nothing outside the fight, and¡­ inside it¡­ that¡¯s where you will live and die. That is what it means to truly fight. And those who search for fights so others don¡¯t have to¡­ those are adventurers. And we, the Wackos of House Walker, are nothing if not the best damn adventurers in the world,¡± he stated grandly as he raised his arms to the side and finished with a smile. ¡°Or at least we will be if you bother to get your sorry asses up off the floor and get back to training,¡± he shouted as they began scurrying to collect their weapons. Chapter 255 - What? You cant do that? Rubbing his hands over his face in annoyance, Archmage Jennings muttered to himself, ¡°It¡¯s going to take forever for these fools to clear all this out.¡± In front of him, above his desk, he stared blankly at the updated maps he¡¯d been able to create now that he knew what to look for. The entire mountain range was indeed infested with kobald cities, each one filled to the brim with kobalds and spawning chambers. Worse yet, he could see at least five cities that had active portals to the elemental plane from which their pattern had emerged. Like almost all sentient species in the world, the kobald¡¯s ancestry could be traced back to another plane. Kobalds, by their very nature, yearned to reconnect with where they¡¯d come from. When their societies advanced enough, they inevitably began attempting to restructure the local material plane to be more like their ancestral home. Already, he could see some of the deeper caves that they¡¯d carved out taking on the aspects of the elemental plane to which they¡¯d been connected. If those portals weren¡¯t closed, and the essence in the area not fixed, in a hundred years the entire mountain range might end up vanishing from the world, leaving a scarred echo that the Populators would end up having to deal with. Planar dynamics was always a tricky subject to comprehend, and as the preeminent authority on the subject, he was one of the few people in the kingdom who understood how annoying the situation could potentially turn out. Granted, there was plenty of time to deal with it. But, everything would have been much simpler if the city had just fallen and a new population could have been reinstalled after more competent teams had been brought in to deal with the problem. However, now the dwarves were here, and Dorchester was most likely not going to fall. At least he now understood why the Tower of Fate had not gone out of its way to save this city and instead planned around its fall. Had he been aware of how thorough the kobald infestation was, he might have made the same call. Yet, that was no longer an option. Whether the king had intended to set events down this path or not, there was no longer any way to avoid relying on the local forces to deal with this. Theoretically, he could try and convince the locals to ask for help, but he doubted it. They¡¯d likely not want to give up their power or allow higher-level houses to take over. He and the city were stuck with what they had. Seeing that the king had managed to get the dwarves involved, Jennings couldn¡¯t help but admit that the man truly was inexplicably skilled in the game. The hells be damned man was a hundred moves ahead of everyone else and had probably already taken into account that Jennings was just now finding out about the true threat the kobalds represented. Growling to himself in annoyance, Jennings opened his link to check on the Tower of Magic¡¯s progress in retuning the array for the locals to understand the scope of what they were facing. It looked like he still had a day or two before word got out. He could work with that. He¡¯d have to make a few appearances and play into the all-knowing aspect of his position, but he could do a great deal to soften the news. If he handled this carefully, he might even be able to hint that the kobalds were the real reason he was here in Dorchester in the first place. He¡¯d also have to find those damnable former evaluators who are now working with Lord Walker. They continually managed to slip his scry trackers, and he had no idea what they were up to. He¡¯d need to be careful with how much he told them, but he¡¯d likely be able to use them to ensure the young anomaly survived this mess. Lord Walker could not be allowed to permanently die before Jennings had a chance to figure out how he was able to keep his mind intact while being nothing more than a soul. Tapping his chin in thought, Jennings wondered if it might not be a bad idea to engineer some more controlled deaths for the young man so that he could take a few more readings. Worst case scenario, Lord Walker could probably find another body to take over or possibly even rebuild the one he was using. He¡¯d already practically done it before, and while the circumstances were much more conducive to self-actualization as it was during a material breakdown of the plane, it was possible that his soul had already figured out the process and could now do it under more restricted conditions. ¡®The only way to find the answers is to ask the questions,¡¯ he thought to himself, quoting one of his long-moved-on teachers. ¡ª-- After Nero¡¯s surprise smackdown and pep talk, everyone seemed a lot more motivated to train. Although they never managed to reach the intensity that he¡¯d grown used to under Cathleen¡¯s tutelage, they did step up their efforts to push each other. Multiple times Nero found his own training interrupted by having to heal someone or regrow a limb. Even Peter and Merrick put more effort into their magical training. They both listened closely to Nero¡¯s explanation on how best to conserve and manage their center¡­ or at least they tried to. ¡°Lord Walker, I believe I understand what you¡¯re trying to say, but I don¡¯t believe center recovery works like that,¡± Merrick muttered awkwardly. ¡°Bullshit,¡± Nero replied while pulling out a book from his personal space and flipping through the pages. After finding what he was looking for, he said, ¡°Here. It says it right here. ¡®Center is the manifested essence of personality that is produced from a person¡¯s identity.¡¯ Look, this entire chapter is about how you can actively regain your center.¡± Both Peter and Merrick walked over, intending to stand behind Nero so they could read over his shoulder. Not wanting to experience two grown men hovering over him, Nero handed Peter the book instead. ¡°Halfway down page two hundred and eight.¡± While both of them shared the book, Nero took the opportunity to check on the rest of the team¡¯s training. Smiling widely, he could see they were beginning to incorporate their abilities into their attacks, both learning how to use them more efficiently and to defend against them. As far as Nero could tell, they were all working hard. He would, however, have to figure something out about their armor, which was being thoroughly destroyed by the constant punishment they were dealing out on each other. He wasn¡¯t nearly as good at repairing stuff as he was at healing. ¡®I really should look into finding some better spells for that,¡¯ he thought to himself. While he did know a basic ¡®repair¡¯ spell, it was insanely expensive in terms of center, and required constant channeling. Instead of using his own understanding together with a person¡¯s identity of how their body ¡®should¡¯ look, the ¡®repair¡¯ spell he knew worked off the item¡¯s identity alone. If he wasn¡¯t careful, by casting the spell poorly he could end up doing more damage to the item rather than repairing it. ¡®I suppose that¡¯s just an inherent difference between trying to use an identity with consciousness versus one without. A piece of armor can¡¯t work with you to tell you where it hurts,¡¯ he remarked to himself. Back when he¡¯d been training with Cathleen, gear management and repairing stuff hadn¡¯t been all that much of a concern. He had just been wearing training clothes which he ended up replacing every day when he couldn¡¯t repair them himself. ¡®Maybe I should have them train without armor?¡¯ he wondered as he tapped his chin in thought. ¡°Lord Walker, this chapter is indeed about center recovery techniques, but nothing in here discusses anything like you¡¯re proposing,¡± Merrick said, bringing Nero¡¯s attention back to what they were doing. ¡°Are you crazy? That¡¯s exactly what we were talking about. How to keep your center levels high enough to keep casting indefinitely,¡± he replied. Merrick and Peter shared a look, with Peter¡¯s expression making it clear that he wasn¡¯t going to be the one to say anything. Rolling his eyes at his fellow mage, Merrick turned back to Nero and said, ¡°Respectfully, Lord Walker. I believe you may have misinterpreted some of what the author was trying to say. These techniques are a form of active mediation in which you focus the entirety of your mind on your identity. Both the breathing and mental exercises require a great deal of uninterrupted effort and cannot be completed while in combat.¡± Nero, not understanding what the problem is, replied, ¡°Look, I was shown how to do a quick and dirty version by a war mage a while ago, so we can just start with that. The goal is to mentally train yourself to hold your center together despite how much casting you¡¯re doing. As long as you keep to basic spells that aren¡¯t too taxing, you should be able to recover most, if not all, of the center you expended to cast them. You should only run out of center when you perform feats of magic that you aren¡¯t ready for. So, obviously, you just need to trick your identity into believing that you are worthy of more advanced magic.¡±If you spot this story on Amazon, know that it has been stolen. Report the violation. Peter replied reflexively, ¡°You can¡¯t just trick yourself into believing you¡¯re better than you are. And even if you did, that wouldn¡¯t change the reality that you¡¯re not.¡± Nero snorted in amusement before replying, ¡°Sure you can, and yes it will. This entire world runs on bullshit like that. You know, the power of positive thinking and all that. Look, your center is based on your identity, right? Your identity is defined by how the world sees you. The world interacts with your mind, body, and soul to determine how it relates to you. Well, if you¡¯re mind believes that you are a powerful mage with plenty of center to spare, then that¡¯s 1/3rd of the puzzle right there.¡± Merrick and Peter once again shared an uncomfortable look with each other, neither one wanting to be the one to contradict their lord. Each of them was well aware that center management and essence control didn¡¯t work at all how Lord Walker had explained it to them. The young lord was picking and choosing which facts he wanted to accept, and discarding the ones that he didn¡¯t agree with. However, they also couldn¡¯t explain how he was able to do the things he did, so they were somewhat in a bind. With how much center he was expending constantly healing everyone, and casting magic above his level, Nero did indeed look to them like a mage with an unending center. It made absolutely no sense to either one of them. Nero on the other hand found the entire concept self-evident. If all it took to refill your center was some meditation on who you were as a person, then center was based on how firm your resolve was. He¡¯d spent his entire life back on Earth learning that truth is a relative concept that you could ignore at your leisure. Hell, self-hypnosis was basically a cultural touchstone where he¡¯d grown up. Convincing himself that his center was able to replenish itself without effort was easy for him. Whether or not it worked for anyone else was completely immaterial. Luckily for the two mages, their conversation was interrupted by Victor who was dragging a stumbling Sam over for healing. While Nero worked on the man, Peter and Merrick stepped aside for a private conversation. ¡°I¡¯m not sure I understand what Lord Walker is saying. Do you really think he¡¯s discovered a way to actively recover center while in combat?¡± Peter asked in a whisper. Merrick replied in a whisper of his own, ¡°I¡¯m not sure. He¡¯s obviously able to do it. But, I don¡¯t think whatever he¡¯s doing is actually what he thinks he is doing. It doesn¡¯t make sense. There must be something else going on with him.¡± ¡°What do you mean?¡± Peter asked. ¡°Well, like he said, center is the reservoir of essence that you¡¯ve collected by filtering the raw essence of the ether through your identity. While it does refill itself with time, actively refilling quickly requires your mind, body, and soul to be in harmony. What Lord Walker is suggesting is that he has somehow made his physical and ethereal presence a matter of his will¡­ which as far as I know is impossible,¡± Merrick stated emphatically, but somewhat uncertainly. Interrupting their conversation, Nero walked up while clapping and rubbing his hands together in excitement. ¡°All right boys, now let¡¯s work on keeping your minds together while we cast some magic!¡± For the next hour or two, the entire team pushed themselves. The physical fighters continued to stress their centers by utilizing their abilities, while the mages and Nero worked on their magic. Bodies were broken, and center levels plummeted. By the time Nero called their training to a close, more than one person was suffering from aching joints and headaches from center over-use. Merrick and Peter were both even suffering from some minor nose bleeds. Nero on the other hand, felt fine. While everyone collapsed into their beds for some rest, Nero stayed up to do some more training and reading. Since they hadn¡¯t been called in to do anything, it was the perfect time to learn some new spells and work on his essence manipulation. He hadn¡¯t spent much time playing with his magic lately, and with his newfound ability to concentrate on multiple things at once, he was finally able to streamline his ability to read while he practiced. An hour or two later, Cathleen and Natalie approached the camp to see Nero being the only one outside of their tents. He was sitting comfortably on his stool with his eyes closed, his canteen in his hand, while all around him spells were being carved into the ether before being taken apart and their center recollected. To anyone who could see into the ether, he looked like he was surrounded by multiple blinking lights. Opening his eyes as they approached, Nero smiled widely and greeted them. ¡°Hello ladies, how¡¯s the war going? Finally ready to kickstart the ultra-violence and send the kobalds back to the hell from which they came?¡± Cathleen¡¯s stoic expression faltered a little as she had trouble keeping the grin off her face. ¡°Not yet, my lord. I¡¯ve just come to see how you and your team are doing and to update you on what¡¯s happening with command and Lord Verena¡¯s efforts to pierce the kobald¡¯s illusions,¡± said Cathleen. Natalie looked around at the empty camp and asked, ¡°Where is the rest of our team?¡± Nero replied, ¡°Oh, they¡¯re resting. We did a little training and they¡¯re all tuckered out. Hey, by the way, any chance we can get someone to help repair their armor? I¡¯m not all that good at using magic to fix stuff just yet, and they¡¯re all looking a little ragged at this point.¡± Cathleen, somewhat confused at the request, turned to Natalie and asked, ¡°I believe you said that your fight with the kobald scouting parties was not all that difficult.¡± Natalie, just as confused as Cathleen was, replied, ¡°It wasn¡¯t. There were no casualties.¡± Not wanting them to get the wrong idea, Nero interrupted, ¡°No, No, No. Their armor is all messed up from the training, not the kobalds. I had them pushing each other pretty hard, and their armor wasn¡¯t as easy to put back together as their bodies were.¡± Cathleen, realizing that Nero probably put them through what she¡¯d put him through, couldn¡¯t help but smile evilly. ¡°You had them fighting each other to the death? Warblade training?¡± Nero, returning her smile, shrugged. ¡°Not exactly. They never went all in. However, I did get them to stop pulling their punches. It took a while, and I ended up having to stomp on them a bit, but they eventually got the message that training wasn¡¯t something they should be half-assing.¡± Natalie, looking worried, replied, ¡°You didn¡¯t kill anyone, did you? Do I need to call in some mind healers from the Center auxiliaries?¡± Not understanding what she was talking about, replied, ¡°Well, I only killed them once, and everyone seems fine. Why would they need mind healers?¡± Cathleen chuckled, and said, ¡°Most people can¡¯t handle death as well as you do. The training I put you through is a little much for Southerners like them. I doubt any of them have experienced dying in combat before.¡± Nero, shifting in his seat uncomfortably, suddenly realized that he might have gone a little too far. ¡°Really? Then why did you kill ME so much? Why wasn¡¯t I given access to therapy?¡± Cathleen replied, ¡°Because you didn¡¯t need it.¡± Natalie, looking somewhat worried, said, ¡°Don¡¯t worry, my lord. I¡¯ll talk to them. I believe I can prevent anyone from lodging any formal complaints against you.¡± Standing up from his stool, Nero asked worriedly, ¡°What the hell are you talking about? Formal complaints about what?¡± Cathleen, looking absolutely ecstatic, replied, ¡°Here in the South, Warblade training is more or less illegal. It¡¯s considered too hard on the soldiers¡¯ minds. Even followers of a noble house still have rights. If they wanted to, they could file formal complaints with the Tower of Law and seek to end their life-oath with House Walker.¡± Stunned, Nero replied, ¡°Huh. Well, I have to say that I¡¯m a little pissed no one bothered to tell me that Cathleen was being such a bitch to me, but I suppose that makes sense. I will of course have to give Nick a nut punch the next time I see him for not giving me a heads up that I was being abused by my trainer.¡± Cathleen laughed, actually laughed at him. Natalie, on the other hand, stood there looking all kinds of uncomfortable. ¡°Let¡¯s set that aside for the moment and get back to what we came over here to talk with you about in the first place,¡± Cathleen said while walking over to take a seat in one of the empty folding chairs. Meanwhile, Natalie immediately went off to go check on the Wackos, and Nero retook his stump, gesturing for Cathleen to have at it. ¡°I¡¯ve been told that you are aware that Lord Verena has been working with the Tower of Magic and the survey teams to locate the hidden tunnels that the kobalds have created throughout the upper city?¡± Cathleen asked. ¡°Yeah, I¡¯ve heard about it. How¡¯s it going?¡± he asked grumpily, still somewhat pissed off about what he¡¯d been told. ¡°Very well actually. Mage Adept Newbanks has been in contact with command and they have assured us that the Tower of Magics scrying arrays should soon be able to pinpoint any similar illusionary spells that have been cast in our area. Teams are already being sent out to deal with them,¡± she said while gesturing to the rest of the large chamber to call Nero¡¯s attention to the activity going on all around them. ¡°Even better, the technique Lord Verena said you¡¯d come up with has been instrumental in countering the kobalds'' larger illusionary wards which their society has been hiding behind. We expect in the next day or two to have the ability to scry their defenses, and hopefully discover what¡¯s awaiting us on the lower floors. However, for the time being, our house¡¯s focus will remain here in the upper areas. Our focus hasn¡¯t changed, and we¡¯ll still be working with the army to clear out the kobalds from the upper city,¡± she said. Nero nodded in understanding. ¡°OK. So, when are we actually going to be getting into some action? And is it going to be more of the weaker clone-type kobalds that we¡¯re going to be facing, or are we going to be finally fighting some of the real ones?¡± ¡°They¡¯re all real kobalds, my lord. The weaker grunts are merely used as cannon fodder for the upper castes of their society. We should, however, begin seeing more of the ¡®real kobalds¡¯, if that¡¯s what you want to call them, now that we¡¯re beginning to push into the mountain. Although, we won¡¯t know exactly what we¡¯re facing until the Tower of Magic finishes their updates to their scrying array,¡± she said. Grunting in acknowledgment, Nero replied, ¡°So, more waiting then.¡± ¡°Yes, more waiting. However, it does give you the opportunity to continue training your forces personally,¡± she said with a grin. Rolling his eyes, Nero replied, ¡°Oh, eat a dick, you old hag. You¡¯re just pissed you are too busy to spend your days killing me over and over again. I hope you enjoy the fancy chair and finger sandwiches they¡¯ve been giving you. You¡¯ll be spending the war watching me have all the fun.¡± Grimacing at the thought of missing out on the fighting, Cathleen replied, ¡°When the time comes, you can be sure that I¡¯ll be there in the thick of it. But for now, I will need to continue coordinating with the army.¡± Standing up from her chair, she began walking away, without bothering to say goodbye. She did however call out over her shoulder, ¡°Make sure to leave some kobalds for the rest of us, my lord!¡± Shaking his head in amusement at the battle maniac, Nero¡¯s mind returned to the fact that he might have unintentionally emotionally scarred the entire team. ¡®Maybe I should look up some books on how people usually train here. Taking Cathleen as an example of the typical teacher archetype might not have been the best idea I¡¯ve had,¡¯ he thought to himself. Chapter 256 - The ingenuity of the masses. In one of the private conference rooms in the keep, City Lord Cosgrave sat at the head of the table with her fingers steepled in thought in front of her chin. Around her sat the assembled advisors and aides of House Cosgrave, each one in charge of the various assets and pursuits of her house. When the memory engram she and the rest of the attendants had been watching finished playing, she broke the silence by ordering coldly, ¡°Play it again¡­¡± As requested, the memory engram restarted from the beginning. Natalie Keening, the public face of House Walker, came into focus hovering over the center of the table for all to see. She began by declaring House Walker¡¯s intention to set the standard for adventuring in Oglivarch and making it clear that its ¡®Wackos¡¯ needed to step up their training or be left behind. The memory engram went on to show Lord Walker absolutely decimating a squad of these so-called Wackos before quickly bringing them back from the dead in an intimidating display of magical skill and power. It also included his speech, urging the barely recovered squad to take their training more seriously. Witnessing someone so young, and so low-leveled, mercilessly butchering fully trained soldiers before they could even use their abilities was just as chilling as it had been for City Lord Cosgrave as the first time she¡¯d watched it. While she¡¯d seen the reports concerning Lord Walker¡¯s uncanny speed at learning the blade, seeing their truth displayed in such stark reality was something she hadn¡¯t truly been prepared for. ¡®Had he really only picked up the blade a few months ago? Hadn¡¯t he been primarily focusing on his magic?¡¯ she wondered uncomfortably at his progress. Cutting to Cathleen Averett, the memory engram then showed a brief explanation of what kind of training Lord Walker had been putting himself through, equating it to the fabled Warblade training of the Northern provinces. She made it clear that she¡¯d been the one who had been training him¡­ personally. The woman¡¯s tone was both proud and challenging, practically daring anyone to go through what Lord Walker had. ¡®Center household manager or not, that woman is definitely an Averett,¡¯ the city lord remarked to herself. Individual statements were then provided in sequence by each of the squad who¡¯d been killed before being resuscitated by Lord Walker. Each one of them proudly declaring their intention to wholeheartedly adhere to their Wacko training, making it abundantly clear that they were even looking forward to it. As a finale, Natalie Keening reappeared to give a brief propaganda-filled speech about House Walker¡¯s potential and reiterating how the hard work and dedication of its members would, in the future, set the standard for what it meant to be an Adventurer of Oglivarch. When the memory engram finally shut off, and the room returned to silence, the city lord asked sternly, ¡°How did you manage to get this?¡± The aide who¡¯d brought this to her attention replied, ¡°It was put up for everyone to watch. It¡¯s on the public-facing side of House Walker¡¯s Thought Hub profile. They weren¡¯t trying to hide it. It appears that they want everyone in the city to see what they¡¯re planning.¡± Sighing heavily, City Lord Cosgrave said quietly, almost to herself, ¡°It seems that the term ¡®adventurer¡¯ will become commonplace in the coming days.¡± Raising her voice to address the rest of the room, she continued, ¡°If none of the members of House Walker who are being subjected to this type of training are willing to file a complaint with the Tower of Law, then I don¡¯t believe there is anything we can legally do about it. However, we must consider what this will mean in the long term. If House Verena¡¯s forces follow along with House Walker in this ill-conceived training plan, then even after House Walker moves on from Dorchester, we¡¯ll still have a disproportionally powerful force of soldiers acting as a singular household army. And considering how fervently Vera Salvatore-Verena is recruiting, that force might turn out to be not just powerful, but quite large as well. Any house that is unable to find people willing to suffer through similar such training will fall further and further behind¡­ ours included.¡± Stern faces of her advisors stared back at her, every one of them knowing that finding such people would be difficult, if not outright impossible. After all, there wasn¡¯t a single Lord in the city who could serve as an inspirational equivalent to Lord Walker in the eyes of the commoners. ¡°Contact Commander Dahl, we¡¯ll need to update the army¡¯s training program for our recently re-instituted elites. Also, let Head Guard Dalton know that House Cosgrave will need to find our own soldiers willing to die for our house indefinitely,¡± she ordered, knowing full well the difficult time the man would have finding anyone willing to agree to such an insane request. ¡ª-- When Nero finally crashed for the night, he found himself debating whether or not it was worth dealing with his identity instead of just going straight to sleep. He could tell by how his soul felt that he¡¯d not gained much experience, and even thinking back on what he¡¯d accomplished, he couldn¡¯t find a justifiable reason to complain about how little progress he¡¯d made. All he¡¯d really done was screw around with some training and play with his magic. Not that he hadn¡¯t been somewhat productive. Because he had. He¡¯d worked on speeding up his carving times for some of the infrequently used spell forms he knew and even spent some time learning a few more which he might not ever bother with. After all, what¡¯s the likelihood of him needing a spell that conjured multicolored, sticky paint that barely lasted 10 minutes? Though not particularly useful, it was just one of the many spells that the people of Dorchester had provided him. While the rest of his team had been recovering from their training, Nero had been scouring the Thought Hub for interesting blogs to watch. Of particular interest was his delve into the more esoteric and inventive household magics that he¡¯d found being taught by average folks on the Thought Hub. He found the entire concept of everyone just posting whatever they wanted up on the Thought Hub for everyone to see charmingly reminiscent of his old life, and somehow comforting for his soul. In many ways, people here were just as self-centered, delusional, and pointlessly stupid as they were back on Earth. Aside from the two young aspiring mages who spent their time fiddling with magic at the expense of whoever their targets were for their pranks, Nero enjoyed watching a particularly enjoyable blog by a woman named Mandy Finnegan. She was what could be considered a housewife here, as her husband worked as an accountant for a company called ¡®Mathis¡¯ Needs And Wants¡¯. Which, of course, was an up-and-coming business sponsored by House Vicene and a direct competitor of ¡®Oslo¡¯s Odds And Ends¡¯ which had been co-founded by House Neeman, whoever the hell they were. Meanwhile, she stayed at home to raise their three children. To pass the time, she made little videos about all the little spells she¡¯d learned and adapted from her time at the Gate 4 preparatory academy for magic which she¡¯d gone to in her youth. While not the best mage, or even one that was that talented, Nero thought she was brilliant. Her blog chronicled her efforts to alter magical spells for any number of reasons while demonstrating splendidly just how poorly that had worked out for her. From the very first memory engram/video he¡¯d seen, he¡¯d been hooked. Having attempted to create a variation of the ¡®cleaning¡¯ spell that was commonly considered simple and basic, she¡¯d blown up her kitchen when she¡¯d tried to make it work as an area of effect. The blog ended with her explaining in great detail where and how she¡¯d believed she¡¯d gone wrong, and how she¡¯d only showed the improper spell form as a means to show what NOT to do. The very next episode had her attempting to combine a water-creation spell with a wind attack. Her intention being to create a simple and easy way to clean her roof. Which, of course, hadn¡¯t worked out nearly as well in practice as it had in theory. The ending of the episode had a wonderful surprise guest appearance by the local guardsman who¡¯d taken the opportunity to caution people not to attempt spell creation outside of authorized laboratories, while also urging people to leave spell creation to the professionals. Honestly, she may end up being Nero¡¯s new favorite person to watch. But she wasn¡¯t the only interesting person he¡¯d found. Despite only knowing about this aspect of the Thought Hub for less than a day, he¡¯d already found multiple hidden gems to enjoy. Some guy in Gate 18 was giving weekly updates on his attempts to master the groundbreaking art of enchanting his houseplants, some of whom had ended up acquiring identities and running away in fear. Nero was eagerly looking forward to the promised episodes where he tracked them down.The narrative has been illicitly obtained; should you discover it on Amazon, report the violation. Another budding home scientist was working on his application for Gate 11¡¯s Research Center. His thesis application hinging on his attempt to create a teleporter that ran on ambient essence flows instead of crystals, thereby earning his position along with a hefty reward for his genius. His memory engrams were intended to act as meticulous records allowing everyone to witness his progress. Incidentally, they also served as proof for Nero that people here in this new world were just as capable of earning themselves a Darwin award as those idiots he used to watch on YouTube back home. The poor guy¡¯s most successful attempt had him teleporting a rat across the room, albeit at the expense of its molecular integrity. When the now-deceased animal arrived at its location more or less intact, but unfortunately inside out, on fire, and producing what looked like multi-colored sparks. The man had ended that particular video by assuring his viewers that he was, at worst, merely weeks away from human trials. While none of what Nero had watched had been all that helpful for his own magical training, he had learned a few things about how the locals viewed spell form manipulation. So, in a way, he felt that his time had not been wasted in the least. He ended up falling asleep while recalling all the humorous videos he¡¯d seen, and planning how to apply what he¡¯d learned to his own attempts at mastering magic in its entirety, while also temporarily focusing on the art of combat magic. His resulting dreams were full of scenes of him massacring hordes of kobalds with cleaning spells, all the while a voice-over narrated its recommendations on how to get rid of the ¡®tough-to-reach stains on difficult parts of your mountain¡¯. Regrettably, as all good things must come to an end, Nero was awoken by someone alerting him to the arrival of breakfast. Awkwardly climbing out of his tent, Nero half-heartedly cast the self-cleaning spell he¡¯d practically mastered at this point. Looking around, he could see that everyone was back to sitting around in a circle, staring at an open area of stone that realistically should have included a firepit¡­ if only because its absence in the heart of their camp was so blatantly obvious. While they were underground and had absolutely no need for one, he still found it weird for them to circle up around nothing. Walking up to them, he did his best to sound happy and enthusiastic. ¡°Good morning boys and girls. Everyone excited for another day of training while we wait for the mages to do their thing?¡± Everyone seemed impervious to his sarcasm, or more likely they missed it, as all he heard in reply was variations of ¡®Of course, my lord¡¯, or ¡®Looking forward to it¡¯. Even Natalie offered him a smile worthy of a toothpaste commercial as she handed him a bowl filled with some sort of chunky gruel. ¡°Great,¡± he muttered to himself as he pulled out his favorite stump of wood out of his personal space and took a seat. Not having noticed Natalie urging the team to say something, Nero was surprised when Claire spoke up a little louder than necessary. ¡°My lord, we wanted to thank you for your training yesterday. While we may not have been able to live up to your expectations, I assure you we will all work hard to be better Wackos in the future.¡± Natalie, barely having waited for Claire to finish added, ¡°I¡¯ve spoken with the forward operating bases command, and they¡¯ve agreed to loan us a few healers for each of our teams in the field while we are here. While they¡¯ll have to remain available for any teams that return with casualties, we¡¯ll be able to use them to push our training forward like you instructed.¡± Somewhat confused as to what she was talking about, Nero listened as she continued to babble about what she¡¯d organized. He barely remembered talking to her yesterday. He had said something about healers, hadn¡¯t he¡­ Apparently, after having learned from his team about his required training standards, she¡¯d sent out a house-wide announcement with a memory engram of the little speech he¡¯d given. Cathleen had even willingly participated by telling them all about the training she put Nero through while they¡¯d been with the elites. From there, everything had sort of snowballed. As they were a new house, and no one really knew what they were doing, doctrine as to what it meant to be a Wacko was still rather up in the air. As a result, a somewhat misguided belief developed that Nero expected them to train until they dropped. The more Natalie talked, the more he could see everyone¡¯s expression taking on a crazy yet prideful intensity. They all looked like they were willing to kill themselves for the honor of being considered a true Wacko. The scouts, the melee fighters, and even the mages were looking a little too intense for his liking. Nero could see it in their eyes, they¡¯d all gone somewhat mental. Considering that only a few of their teams would be being sent out today to escort survey teams, the majority of House Walker was looking like they¡¯d have nothing better to do than to train. And to help live up to the standards that he¡¯d unintentionally set, she¡¯d arranged for healers from the army to be on hand in case anyone ended up killing each other. So, it wouldn¡¯t just be his team, but everyone associated with House Walker would be training their asses off today. While Nero was mindlessly eating his breakfast, trying to wrap his head around what Natalie was telling him, Peter spoke up as if he was unable to contain himself. ¡°The magical contingent of the Wackos have all agreed to work on our healing and resuscitation spells today! We intend for everyone who can cast a spell form to be able to at least carve a basic healing spell form by the end of the day!¡± Natalie, nodding in agreement, continued, ¡°That¡¯s right, everyone capable of magic will be working on mastering a healing spell. You were absolutely right when you said a person should be able to heal themselves. The fact that we¡¯re relying on anyone else for our healing is a failing we intend to correct.¡± One of the Helens added, ¡°That goes for us too, my lord. I¡¯d never really thought about it, but you¡¯re right. I mean, if I can learn to cast a cleaning spell, I should be able to learn to cast a simple healing spell. And if the Wacko next to me falls, I better be able to bring them back quickly¡­ if only to ensure that they¡¯re there to do the same for me when I¡¯m in need. Wackos need to look out for each other, right?¡± Everyone nodded in agreement as if she¡¯d declared some irrefutable truth that they¡¯d all inexplicably universally accepted as their credo. Standing up from her chair, Natalie declared intensely, ¡°Walker¡¯s Wackos will be filled by mankind¡¯s greatest fighters. We will stand between the citizenry and its doom, facing whatever endangers society so that our civilization shall live on. Together, we will be unstoppable!¡± Utterly baffled by how or why she¡¯d abruptly transitioned into a hero speech, Nero was caught off guard by the resulting cheer that erupted when she was done. Nearly dropping his half-eaten bowl of gruel, Nero looked around in confusion as they all began patting each other on the back and swearing to be there for each other come hell or high-water. Even the somewhat reserved Victor and Sam, the scouts, were slightly grinning and promising to do their best to represent the ideals that House Walker stood for. For the remainder of the meal, everyone chimed in with what they planned to work on during training. While some of what Nero was hearing sounded interesting, it was mostly a bunch of people declaring that they would push themselves further than they ever had before. One thing that stood out to Nero was that every one of them happened to mention how much progress they¡¯d made last night during their meditations. Apparently, having been pushed to the brink of death during their training, their level stress had proven the efficacy of Nero¡¯s training methods. He was being credited as being the one who¡¯d show them a better way to walk their path. Unable to formulate coherent responses to their praise, Nero instead fell back on whatever old sayings he could remember. Since Nero¡¯s platitudes and nonsense reserves were endless, it was easy for him to spout them off in rapid-fire returns to their enthusiasm. At one point, Claire remarked to him as if it had been a question, ¡°I¡¯m willing to work hard, I am¡­ but sometimes I wonder if I have it in me to be truly powerful?¡± Seeing as everyone paused their conversation to listen to his reply, Nero had simply responded sagely, ¡°Being powerful isn¡¯t the goal. The goal is to be more powerful today than you were the day before. Every day is a new opportunity to set a new standard. So, while you can never be the best, you can be your best.¡± To Peter¡¯s question about whether or not his trouble learning new spells made him a poor mage, Nero replied, ¡°Learning quickly does not mean you¡¯re learning well. The strongest trees are the ones that flourish in the poorest soil. Your potential is decided by no one other than you.¡± Left and right, Nero spouted off every bit of nonsense he¡¯d ever read or heard. ¡°Hard work makes hard people.¡± ¡°To be better, you must train better.¡± ¡°You only make it as far as you¡¯re willing to go.¡± By the time they were finished with breakfast and heading over to the training rings, everyone looked like they were chomping at the bit to get started. Luckily, the healers Natalie had requested were already there, or Nero would have worried that he¡¯d have to have been the only one keeping them from killing each other. Even luckier was the fact that everyone was more interested in getting lessons from the healers than they were in bothering him with their incessant questioning. So, now that everything looked handled, and they were all crowded around the healers begging for instruction, Nero snuck off on his own to continue learning magic all by his lonesome. And while it would have been nice to get some instruction from trained mages like Peter and Merrick, he¡¯d spent most of the day before just arguing with them. Therefore, if he wanted to actually learn anything, he expected that he¡¯d probably have to figure it out himself. That wasn¡¯t a problem for him though, as he had plenty of information to work with even without them being around. He had access to the Thought Hub, some books, and time. Honestly, what more did he need? And with that, he took over the training ring furthest away from where they were holding their little group healing seminar and got to work¡­ or at least he¡¯d tried to. Instead of working on his own things, he ended up spending most of his time watching their progress through his essence perception. The last thing he needed was for them to think he was some kind of authority figure hovering over their shoulder¡­ judging them. ¡®Holy shit¡­ do these guys just suck¡­ or am I simply that awesome?¡¯ he wondered to himself. Chapter 257 - No, I said do it like this. Chapter 26 (257) ¡°Everything looks good over here!¡± one of the robed scientists called out from behind his control hologram. Throughout the plain stone room, people were working hard. Some were moving around like bees busily attempting to pollinate the various machines that took up much of the floor space. Others were like pillars of professionalism, overseeing everything within their little slices of controlled chaos. All the while, in the center, the fifteen-unit tall pillar of contained essence wrapped in steel wiring swirled dangerously. Right alongside it, on the main control platform, Nicholas Salvatore-Verena stood proudly with an intense look on his face. What he and his team had accomplished was nothing short of remarkable. One of the researchers from the Center who¡¯d been monitoring a readout shouted, ¡°Resonance pillar is now active. Two minutes until the pulse is charged. Control linkages are all transmitting their ready states.¡± The young woman dressed in mage robes next to him who was in charge of their connection with the Tower of Magic called out, ¡°The link with the scry array is now active! Signal is solid and the relays all seem to be working as intended.¡± While doing his best to keep his tone calm, Nick ordered, ¡°Be sure to counter any interference you see in the reciprocal feed. We need to be able to supply real-time updates to the observational matrix to bypass the false images we might initially be seeing.¡± The mage on loan from the Tower of Magic replied with a nod without bothering to turn around, her entire concentration remaining on the holograms floating in front of her. Nick on the other hand was trying his best to pay attention to everything. While everyone else needed only to focus on their assignments, he had taken it upon himself to be in charge of the entire project. ¡®This¡­ this is what humanity can accomplish when they work together for a common purpose,¡¯ he thought to himself in satisfaction. Even when he was a young man, failing to live up to his parents'' expectations, he¡¯d been captivated by the pursuit of knowledge. While others spent their time vying for position and accolades, he¡¯d been in the library studying the foundations that kept their society functioning. Technology. The understanding of the greater mysteries and their applications. That was the secret to ensuring humanity''s survival in the face of all the threats that it faced. He¡¯d always known it was his calling, and time and time again he¡¯d been proven right as his efforts were rewarded with merits and accolades of his own. Now, as the lord of his own house, the merits he¡¯d receive if this most recent idea turned out to be a success would affect more than just himself. His entire house would rise on the ladder. But that wasn¡¯t why he was doing this. He was doing this because the city needed him to. Nero may have had the idea, but as exceptional as he was in his own way, he was incapable of putting it into action. He simply lacked the knowledge base. ¡°Pulse is ready!¡± the researcher called out. Nick¡¯s slight smile tightened in anticipation of their success. ¡°Is the secondary Resonance Pillar with the other forward base online?¡± Another researcher, monitoring yet another hologram called out, ¡°Affirmative. Systems are linked and ready to activate on your signal.¡± Taking a deep breath, Nick shook his hands to release some of the tension he was feeling. The entire room went silent as they waited for the order. Firming his resolve, Nick called out calmly, ¡°Fire the pulse.¡± Had he not been waiting for it, he probably wouldn¡¯t have even noticed it. But he was, and he did. The ether shook like a slab of gelatin being slapped. Emanating from the Resonance Pillar, the wave propagated through the essence flows at a blistering pace, altering nothing but making the ether in the area tremble with its passing. Less than a second later, the mage called out, ¡°We¡¯re getting the feed now. Putting it up on the central viewer.¡± Nick turned to look at the rapidly updating map which up until now had been showing only what the kobalds had wanted them to see. Like tapestry being pulled aside, the interior of the mountain was revealed. While the technique he and his team had developed didn¡¯t ¡®break¡¯ the illusion, it did allow them to successfully bypass it, allowing them to see what the kobalds had been hiding. Staring at the upper portion of the mountain city where their forward operating base was primed to invade, Nick¡¯s face paled. ¡°Oh, all of the heavens above, that¡¯s not good,¡± he muttered to himself before everyone in the room began frantically sending out alerts. ¡ª-- Nero had always considered himself someone who was at least somewhat self-aware. He knew he had his weaknesses along with his strengths. There were countless things that he sucked at and only a few at which he could be considered passible. He¡¯d always been like that, and he found comfort in the fact that he was able to do the best he could with what he had. However, now he found himself in a situation that he was completely unprepared for. He was now one of the ¡®talented¡¯ people who had a natural advantage over the schlubs who were just trying to get by. Back on Earth, he¡¯d risen to the level of store manager for a cell phone retailer, and he¡¯d been mildly proud of that accomplishment. Not because it was a dream job or anything of the sort, but he¡¯d felt that it was about as high as a person like him could have risen. He¡¯d had regrets, of course, but that¡¯s all that they were. If he were truly honest with himself, and he¡¯d always tried to be, then he¡¯d gotten as far as he¡¯d earned. He¡¯d never been anything special and didn¡¯t have family money or connections to leverage for his success. He¡¯d enjoyed being just one of the masses, a nobody who could throw out his completely uneducated and unwanted opinion as if it mattered while not actually believing anyone would care. There was a great deal of comfort to be had in knowing that no one would take him seriously. Both online and in real life, he could act like a tool, screwing with people and spouting his nonsense without any serious repercussions. As a simple nobody, no one would care about his opinion, and getting a rise out of people made him feel somewhat important. It was a fun pastime¡­ a novelty. Yet, the practice of being an asshole was only something he could do because he WAS a nobody. If he¡¯d actually had the skills, talent, and background to be taken seriously, then he¡¯d obviously have to have watched what he¡¯d said or suffer the consequences of people actually listening to him. Now, here in Dorchester, he found himself being taken seriously. He¡¯d tried playing it off, handing over the reins of responsibility to others, and it had worked¡­ for the most part. He¡¯d resigned himself to being a figurehead, someone they could prop up like a celebrity, and he¡¯d been fine with that. As long as no one relied on him, he could learn to handle it. But, looking at them all demonstrating how poorly they were able to interact with the essence flows, and how long it took for them to make any progress, he finally understood why he¡¯d ended up in this position. He WAS a talent. Just like those people he used to mock for not being able to take advantage of all their ridiculous gifts, whether it was their family or natural abilities, he was now one of them. People would be looking to follow in his footsteps as if there was a way for him to pass on his advantages so they could benefit from them. He had no idea what to do with that realization. While sitting on his stump, pretending to read, he watched as the rest of the wackos continued to work on their healing magics. Almost all of them were failing quite terribly at it. Only Merrick, who¡¯d already had some experience with the spell forms was showing any progress. Frowning in thought, Nero could see what the problem was. Even though the healers were showing them the correct spell forms, the team was unable to copy them correctly. And if they couldn¡¯t copy them correctly, then they couldn¡¯t practice sending their mind along the spell to actually practice healing. Spell forms needed to be understood by most people to cast them. It required time to familiarize themselves with them so that they could be adapted to a person¡¯s center. They didn¡¯t snap together until a person ¡®knew¡¯ that they would work the way they intended them to.If you spot this tale on Amazon, know that it has been stolen. Report the violation. The only conclusion that Nero could come to was that it had to do with skills. Or at least that HAD to be part of it. Most likely, his soul having been floating around forever in the ether probably gave him a ton of skills that were above average. Or at least the potential for them to be after he practiced them in the real world for a bit. Opening his skill sheet for the first time in forever, Nero was inundated with messages tracking his skill growth. Had they been arranged on paper, they would have filled a damned library. But, Nero would not be deterred, so he scrolled back up to the top and began skimming. He saw various repeats for things that he must be doing often, like ¡®Essence perception¡¯ and ¡®Sensory acuity¡¯. The skills themselves didn¡¯t come with any more explanation, but he believed he got the general idea. However, the problem was there were too many of him to keep track of. There were thousands, and very few of them repeated themselves with any regularity aside from some groupings that probably happened around the same time. Nero paused his scrolling when he came across an acquired trait. Essence Presence - The ability to see and interact with the flows of the world. Raising his eyebrows in surprise, Nero stared at the trait in surprise for a good five seconds. ¡®Huh, so either I¡¯m getting massive skill growth due to my history as an ether ghost or something else is going on here. Maybe it''s my adaptability pillar at work¡­ or I¡¯m just a blessed MC with a cheat that nobody bothered to tell me about,¡¯ he thought to himself. Either way, the answer to passing along his talents and blending back into the background was easy. All he had to do was find out which skills people sucked at and get them to work on them. As a plus, it wouldn¡¯t require him to give anything up, and it would take some of the social pressure off him for people believing him to be some kind of prodigy. ¡®Plus, these people are now my people, and I¡¯m not going to be one of those people in power hoarding secrets for the sake of hoarding secrets. If it costs me nothing, then why wouldn¡¯t I help them? Their strength is my strength¡­ right?¡¯ he said to himself, trying to psych himself up into doing the uncharacteristically smart thing for once in his life. Standing up from his stump in excitement at having figured it out. Nero marched over to the loosely packed group and interrupted the first person he ran into. ¡°Hey, Helen, stop for a second and look at this,¡± he said, basically ordering her to pay attention to him. Holding out his hand, he carved the basic healing spell form they all had been trying to learn into the ether. He made sure to infuse the pattern with his intent for her to be able to see it with her eyes. Helen, doing as he instructed, watched closely as the spell form took shape. When he was done, he kept his eyes on hers as he asked, ¡°Can you see this?¡± Her eyebrows came together over her nose, the confusion evident on her face as she maintained focus on the hovering spell form. ¡°Yes, my lord?¡± she replied, unsure of what he was getting at. Nodding, he said, ¡°Good. Now tell me the moment you notice something changing.¡± Concentrating, Nero loosed his hold on the spell form, allowing its ¡®snapped together¡¯ integrity to falter. Ever so slowly, the spell form began to distort. At first, it was a slight tilting of the curves, and then the angles among the connections began to warp. In less than five seconds, the spell form was unrecognizable and it took Nero more and more effort to keep it together. Widening her eyes, she replied, ¡°It¡¯s changing! I think. Yes, it¡¯s not a healing spell form anymore¡­ I¡­ I don¡¯t recognize it anymore.¡± Smiling widely, Nero let the spell form go. He had no chance of recovering the center he¡¯d spent as by the end he¡¯d barely been holding it together. It took her longer than expected to notice anything, but not nearly as long as he¡¯d feared it would. Gesturing for her to kneel down alongside him, he said, ¡°Here, look at this.¡± Using his finger, he began carving out a copy of the spell form into the arena floor. It required a bit of essence manipulation to allow him to alter the packed dirt, but not enough to affect his center. But, by the time he was done, there in front of them was the healing spell form drawn out as accurately as he could make it. It was much larger than the one he¡¯d carved into the ether, as the lines making it up had been done by his finger. ¡°Tell me what this looks like to you,¡± he asked, looking over her. Helen was kneeling alongside him, staring at the pattern on the ground. ¡°It¡¯s the healing spell form, right?¡± ¡°Yes, it is. Now I want you to draw a copy of it right next to it with this,¡± he said, as he offered her a dagger he¡¯d pulled out from his personal space. He doubted she could directly manipulate essence, so this would have to do for now. Confused, but not willing to question him, she did as she was told. Slowly but surely, she copied the entire thing. Her eyes were dancing back and forth as she continually referenced his drawing as she worked. When she was done, she compared the two drawings for a bit before redoing a few places. After she was finally happy with it, she turned to him and looked at him for her next order. Nero, having watched carefully, stood up and said, ¡°Now, I want you to carve it into the ether. Don¡¯t worry about adding any intent to the spell form so I can see it. I¡¯ll handle that part. Just try and copy the spell form as best you can.¡± No longer looking confused, Helen did as she was told. Holding up both her hands, her brow furrowed in concentration as she began using her center to create the spell form. Nero watched carefully with all of his senses, immediately seeing that his guesses were correct. Even KNOWING what the spell form was supposed to look like, she couldn¡¯t copy it. It was like she was trying to trace a really thin line by using a singular branch while holding up a tree. She just didn¡¯t have the ability to manipulate essence that precisely. She just didn¡¯t know it, because she also doesn¡¯t have the ability to see what she¡¯s doing clearly enough for it to matter. ¡°Stop, stop, stop,¡± he said gently. While she released the barely started spell form, she waited patiently while Nero tapped his chin in thought. ¡°How about this, try and just create a straight line in the ether from here to here,¡± he said as he held up both his pointer fingers for reference. Like he told her to, she began carving a line in the ether immediately. Frowning in thought, Nero was unhappy to confirm that she couldn¡¯t even do that all that well. The line she¡¯d made looked like the aftermath of a drunk driver on a skills course. If there had been cones acting as a boundary, then they¡¯d have ended up unfortunate victims of her inability to steer in a straight line. Both the ending and the beginning were pretty close to where he¡¯d wanted them to be, but the middle was too wavy to be considered a successfully drawn line. Looking her in the eye, he said, ¡°OK. Just bear with me for a moment.¡± Turning around, he shouted, ¡°Hey, Merrick! Come over here for a second.¡± While Merrick jogged over across the training ring, Nero offered Helen an uncomfortable smile instead of any small talk. ¡°Yes, my lord?¡± Merrick asked. Without any explanation, Nero asked him to demonstrate a line of his own in the ether. After he was finished, Nero had him hold it there in place before asking Helen to take a look at it. Unfortunately, he¡¯d forgotten to tell Merrick to infuse it with his desire to allow anyone to see it, so to Helen it didn¡¯t look at all like a line¡­ but that in and of itself told Nero something. Thinking that Nero had asked what it looked like to her in the ether, she answered honestly, ¡°It looks like a horizontal cylinder, my lord. Although there are a few denser areas where the cylinder is more solid, I can surmise that underneath it is made up of a solid line.¡± Nodding as if everything was going as intended, he told Merrick to do it again but to let her see it with her eyes. As requested, Merrick carved a line into the ether, flaring it into the material realm with his intention. Without being asked, Helen helpfully explained, ¡°Now I see it. It¡¯s a line.¡± ¡°Does it look straight to you?¡± Nero asked. Her eyes darting to him in confusion for a moment, she replied, ¡°Yes.¡± Nero told Merrick to maintain his line for a moment while he carved one of his own right next to it. ¡°How about now, do they both look equally straight to you?¡± he asked. Taking a moment, Helen compared them with her eyes darting between them. ¡°I¡¯m sorry, my lord, but they both look the same to me.¡± Dismissing his line, Nero said, ¡°No, that¡¯s fine. That¡¯s perfect even. I think I understand what the problem is now.¡± Both Merrick and Helen were looking at him in confusion, not understanding what he was talking about. ¡°Merrick, is there a skill or something that governs how accurately you can carve center into the ether?¡± Nero asked. ¡°Of course, my lord. Several. A person¡¯s precision in essence carving is a result of multiple skills working together. For example, ¡®essence manipulation¡¯ is a skill that governs how well a person can interact and alter essence, which for carving affects how well they can manipulate their own center. ¡®Essence control¡¯ governs a person¡¯s ability to steer and direct flows¡­¡± he said before continuing on in detail about skills one after another. Rather than do what he usually does, Nero didn¡¯t interrupt him and instead did his best to listen closely. While he originally intended to just compare his own skill levels against Merrick¡¯s and Helen¡¯s to have an idea of what direction he should go with their training, he ended up having to immediately reconsider that idea. Merrick just kept going. There were multiple skills that contributed to the ability. ¡®Essence perception¡¯, ¡®Essence tracking¡¯, ¡®Essence charting¡¯, ¡®Essence Shaping¡¯, ¡®Form recognition¡¯, and even several ¡®drawing¡¯ type skills all came together to contribute to a person¡¯s ability to carve a spell. It was pointless to track them all, so he didn¡¯t even bother to try. ¡°So, how do people get better at it? Do they just work on their individual skills? And how do people know that all these skills work together like that?¡± Nero asked, somewhat frustrated. Helen was the one to answer him. ¡°Some people do. Magical academies have classes for most of those skills. I know a few people who train them as a hobby.¡± Merrick added, ¡°There are many researchers who study things like this. Skill management and training are a cornerstone of the Center¡¯s research efforts. While some of the more advanced training methods are meant to be researched by the cities themselves, the capital ensures that every Center in new cities has a solid foundation to build off of.¡± Nero was about to reply to the obviously biased system restricting knowledge for the sake of artificially ¡®growing¡¯ a hard-working population, but he was interrupted by an alert blazing in his senses from his link. Mumbling to himself, he complained, ¡°This is what I get for forgetting to turn the damned thing off.¡± Before he could close the window, he felt Cathleen¡¯s presence appear in his mind. ¡°All units, report to your commanders for immediate deployment. Orders will be coming down, and we¡¯ll be moving out within the hour.¡± Then, without any more information, her presence retreated, leaving Nero with nothing but questions. Helen and Merrick immediately took off, heading directly toward Natalie who had begun shouting out orders. Feeling his heart beginning to race as everywhere he looked people began running around like they were getting ready to evacuate, Nero muttered, ¡°Um¡­ So, should I go collect my tent? Or is this like a raid we¡¯re doing before coming back here for some more waiting?¡± Sighing to himself, he began walking over to where Natalie and the rest were. ¡®I suppose I should find out what all the fuss is about.¡¯ Chapter 258 - How about we dont? Nobody wanted to admit it. Hells be damned, he didn¡¯t want to admit it. Nevertheless, Commander Dahl was willing to concede, if only in the privacy of his meditations, that the army¡­ no, that the entire city was unprepared for an enemy like the kobalds. From an early age, commoners and nobles alike had been taught that there was always a possibility that someone was watching. Whether through their interactions on the Thought Hub, or someone simply going out of their way to scry on them, people had become comfortable with the idea that everyone and everything in the city was being watched over by somebody. Their parents did it to them, and they did it to their children, and there was nothing wrong with that. That mode of thought had influenced the way they interacted with each other, the way they worked, the way they lived, and sadly¡­ the way they fought. Nobles were probably the most caught off guard by not being able to spy on their enemy. They¡¯d grown up being taught that the only way to hide what they were planning was to keep their schemes to themselves, and when necessary, to keep any evidence where no one would bother looking. Privacy screens and scry detectors could only do so much, and there was always a chance that somebody would go out of their way to look into what they were doing. Why else would a House like Dorchen hide an entire army in a mining town outside of the city when the point was to invade it? Almost every noble tactic revolved around the idea that their schemes had to be hidden by any means necessary because everyone knew that once they were suspected they would invariably be quickly exposed. It was simply inconceivable for a noble of Dorchester to attempt to hide something in plain sight. Yet, the kobalds had successfully done just that. They¡¯d hidden themselves right next to the city. They¡¯d taken over the abandoned mountain and spread out across the whole hells be damned mountain range. Glaring in anger at the information being displayed on the hologram hovering in front of him, Commander Dahl hissed in fury at the thought that he should have been told about a critical weakness like this. ¡°Analysts are confirming the activation of at least three portals in the undercity. The enemy is evacuating their upper casts and filling the entire area with disposable troops. They seem intent on doing nothing more than just biding their time. They¡¯re not even bothering bringing in reinforcements from their other cities through the connecting tunnels,¡± the subcommander on his left reported. ¡°How long do we have until their¡­ ¡®plan¡¯... for the upper city is ready?¡± Commander Dahl asked angrily. Across the table, a subcommander replied nervously, ¡°Anywhere between three and seven hours¡­ we think.¡± Growling in annoyance, Commander Dahl swiped his hand across the screen to find a better angle on the viewer. ¡°If this¡­ ¡®linkage¡¯ ritual, or whatever the mages are calling it is completed, what are the actual ramifications? You¡¯ve said it wasn¡¯t just a portal, it was something akin to a ¡®reality hook¡¯¡­ what does that mean exactly?¡± he asked. The subcommander across the table replied evenly, the tremor in her voice fading the longer she spoke, finding some comfort in having an answer for him, ¡°According to the mages who¡¯ve been analyzing the ritual, they believe it is meant to act as a permanent portal much like a rift, but also much more than that. It will be self-sustaining just like a regular portal, but much more difficult to close. Standard means of disrupting it will not work. It will take a coordinated effort of multiple mages skilled in planar theory to even affect it. The tower mages also warned that the process would not be quick, and would be easily disrupted by enemy forces coming out of the portal.¡± Grunting in acknowledgment, Commander Dahl replied, ¡°So what exactly makes this portal any different than any of the others they¡¯ve set up?¡± Replying quickly, she said, ¡°We, I mean my team, asked them the same thing. From what we were told, it seems that viable linkage sites require a firmly anchored essence connection to the region to support it, namely places or areas that have been imbued with meaning that acts as the core or basis for that region¡¯s identity. The kobalds are using the former throne room where Dorchester was founded and run for millennia exactly for that purpose. The ritual is an attempt to tie the historical essence of what the founders of the city had done to remake this area of Oglivarch into their domain to the other side of the portal which will likely be a place equally important to wherever it is on the target plane. The mages believe that the kobalds on the other side must have prepared a site specifically for this purpose.¡± ¡°So, they couldn¡¯t make one of these ¡®linkages¡¯ in any of their own cities, because they haven¡¯t been around long enough for the world to recognize their claim on the region?¡± he asked. Nodding, she replied, ¡°That¡¯s what I¡¯ve been told. The explanation I received likened typical portals to monster incursions through an essence disturbance. That is to say that normal portals are just temporary linkages to another plane that over time could possibly turn into permanent linkages before ultimately pulling the entire area¡¯s essence through the portal. However, that¡¯s just one possibility of what they could become. Their true threat is that they spill out essence from the other side and affect the targeted region by altering its identity. However, controlled linkages like what the kobalds are attempting don¡¯t do that. Instead, they skip to the worst-case scenario. They use the dense essence pattern which defines the area against itself. By attacking at the beginning of where we declared our presence here, they are attempting to remove our presence from the area¡¯s essence. It¡¯s only an option for them because we foolishly left what had been our center of power since our founding undefended.¡± Unhappy with the fact that nobody considered this type of attack as a possibility, he asked, ¡°Did nobody from the Tower of Magic think to warn us before we abandoned the mountain city for the surface?¡± Her expression making it clear that she was just as unhappy as he was, she replied, ¡°According to them, they did. However, the council of leadership at the time believed the risks were minimal as the likelihood of something like this happening before our new center of power permeated the area seemed impossible to them.¡± A commander who¡¯d been silently watching up until now spoke up, ¡°To be fair, they did leave ample defenses in place to watch over the mountain city¡­ the kobalds just bypassed them and fooled the people checking on them.¡± Sighing in understanding that the situation was a result of multiple things going wrong, Commander Dahl took a moment to reign in his temper before asking, ¡°Do we have enough troops in the area to push through the defenses they¡¯ve set up and stop the activation of the ritual?¡± The room sat in silence for a few uncomfortable seconds before the subcommander who¡¯d been monitoring the situation replied, ¡°It doesn¡¯t seem likely, sir. I¡¯ve ordered volunteers in the area to be deployed anyway, and at this point, there isn¡¯t much else we can do. I¡¯ve already arranged a secondary line to set up in the main tunnel system when¡­ I mean if those that make the assault fail.¡± Commander Dahl nodded in acceptance. ¡°We¡¯ll have to pause our push into the lower city and regroup. While the portals down there will allow them to reinforce their position, they are much less of a threat than having the entire city pulled through a portal like the one in the upper city if it manages to usurp our control.¡± Speaking quietly, the subcommander said, ¡°It¡¯s much worse than that, sir. If we don¡¯t fail to close that portal, the entire region under Dorchester¡¯s control could be lost from this plane of existence. If the kobalds set up the linkage correctly, in less than a week we¡¯ll begin seeing the effects. At first, the environment will change outside our walls, then the essence will begin streaming through the portal and reinforcing the other side. While we¡¯ll probably survive the transfer, the edges of our control range will begin suffering essence storms which will quickly become impassible. By the end of the week, we¡¯ll no longer be in Oglivarch¡­ we¡¯ll be on whatever plane the kobalds are trying to get back to.¡± Slumping his shoulders Commander Dahl said sadly, ¡°Three days. If we can¡¯t close it in three days, we¡¯ll have to ask for assistance from the capital. They¡¯ll send in the Populators and they¡¯ll handle it.¡± The entire table of military commanders and subcommanders stood in silence as they thought about what that would mean for the city¡­ and for them. The ladders would be discarded, and the city refounded. They¡¯d have to practically start over from the beginning. And this time, with the density shift happening, the likelihood of any local house staying in power was practically zero. ¡ª-- Nero stood near the back of the team, surprised to hear how serious the situation sounded. While he didn¡¯t understand everything Natalie was saying, he got the general idea. The kobalds were strip-mining the local reality and using the former throne room to do it. While Natalie was speaking quickly, and likely only repeating what she¡¯d been reading from the briefing she¡¯d been given, Nero was able to glean a lot of answers to questions he¡¯d had about the world. In fact, hearing her explain how an area the size of what was basically an entire state back home could be transplanted between planes of reality made everything he¡¯d been taught about essence come together and subsequently somehow make much more sense to him. He¡¯d always struggled with the idea that areas had ¡®identities¡¯ and could repopulate themselves with local beasts and plants. But, if the world under his feet was more like an area on a gameboard that was defined by who was in control of it, then everything clicked together in his head like a puzzle.If you come across this story on Amazon, be aware that it has been stolen from Royal Road. Please report it. If essence in an area had its own history and identity, and when the humans took over Dorchester and founded the city, they took control of it. It made a certain kind of weird sense that the former throne room acted as the control node for the region. He¡¯d played tower defense games before, so he could understand the concept. If the kobalds took control of the square on the metaphorical board then the humans were no longer in control of the region and the kobalds could then do whatever they wanted with it. Which, apparently, was to take the essence, material, and everything else back to their home plane. Even though he didn¡¯t understand the mechanics of how they were doing it exactly, and according to Natalie, neither did she, he still was able to wrap his head around what they were trying to do. Unable to help himself, he smirked and asked, ¡°So, I guess we should have just pushed through and interrupted them before they kickstarted the local apocalypse, huh?¡± Natalie, hearing her lord¡¯s rebuke, firmed her spine before replying, ¡°Yes, my lord. You were right to have recommended that we push forward with the attack. While we may not have been able to overcome their defenses on our own, there were plenty of other teams in the area that could have supported us. At worst, we could have discovered their plans much earlier, giving command the time to mount a better-prepared assault to stave off this disaster.¡± While the rest of the team stood in silence, and the dwarves who¡¯d come out of their little stone house watched from the side with grim faces, Natalie hung her head in shame. ¡°I¡¯m sorry, my lord, for my failure. I should have listened to your counsel. I, in my ignorance and pride, may have doomed us all. Command has made it clear what we¡¯ll be facing, and they have very little hope for our success. Teams that aren¡¯t willing to risk the attempt have been allowed to fall back. A more concerted force will be coming to close the portal when this assault fails. There just isn¡¯t enough time to bring in a strong enough force to stop it. It is my recommendation that we, as a house, fall back with them. Cathleen has already begun pulling back the few teams we have in the field with the survey teams. She and I both agree that there is very little point in dying pointlessly,¡± she finished with a sigh. Crusher, the dwarven head of his little contingent stepped forward, ¡°I¡¯ll have to be speaking with me king. He¡¯ll need to know about this. It may take a few days, but I¡¯m sure he¡¯ll be sending a force that will shake the mountain to close this thing. We¡¯ll not be founding a clan on some gods-forsaken plane full of lizards and fire.¡± Nero, feeling everyone¡¯s sense of defeat radiating off of them in waves, winced at how hurt Natalie felt. He could tell that his words had basically emotionally gutted her. With his ability to observe her essence field, he could SEE it. She was broken¡­ and it was heartwrenching. He felt awful. Granted, he¡¯d just been kidding¡­ trying to lighten the mood with some humor. But, she¡¯d taken it as an insult to her very being. She was standing there like a wound in the essence, just looking at her made him feel like he was standing next to someone on a ledge contemplating suicide. Nobody else on the team was much better. They all felt like they¡¯d been defeated. While they weren¡¯t as bad as Natalie, their essence fields made it perfectly clear how they all felt. Part of him didn¡¯t believe that he should feel guilty for her being so sensitive. Yet, seeing how badly his words had affected her, he couldn¡¯t help it. ¡®Is this what being emotionally aware of those around you feels like? This is some bullshit,¡¯ he complained to himself with a grimace. Striding up to Natalie, he reached out to grip both her arms with his hands and forced her to look at him. The change in position had him in the center of the group with everyone staring at him. ¡°You are NOT to blame. I agreed with your decision, and so did everyone else. It was the smart move at the time, and you shouldn¡¯t second guess yourself. You¡¯re a great leader, and everyone here respects you. So, hold your head high and don¡¯t worry about it. I was just making a joke¡­ a rude and poorly thought-out one¡­ but a joke just the same. Never let anyone¡¯s opinion, even mine, affect how you see yourself. Remember who you are. You¡¯re Natalie god-damn Keening, head of House Walker¡¯s whatever department and leader of this team of fine upstanding wackos. Granted we¡¯ve only been on one mission, but that one mission led to Nick figuring out the thing that he did which is probably pretty important, and also resulted in us getting some free time to train which is awesome. None of what the kobalds are doing is your fault, and you couldn¡¯t have done anything to stop it,¡± Nero said firmly, staring into her eyes hard while silently demanding for her to cheer up. Both seeing her resolve strengthening with his eyes and his perception field, Nero nodded up at her from his measly 5¡¯ 4¡¯¡¯ height. Considering that Nero didn¡¯t understand exactly how the portal thing the kobalds were building actually worked, or how long they had before it would take to drag them all across the planes, he wasn¡¯t keen on waiting for the powers that be to get their shit together to close it. Maybe they had it handled, and maybe there were contingencies that he was unaware of, but none of that mattered to him at the moment. This was the kind of thing that adventurers lived for, and his center was practically screaming at him to run off and shit-stomp the kobald¡¯s plans into oblivion. So, that¡¯s exactly what he was going to do. While still locking eyes with Natalie, he ordered, ¡°Tell Cathleen to gather the wackos¡­ all of them. Tell her that I¡¯ve got something to say.¡± Turning away from her, he said to the dwarves, ¡°You all can go call your king and let him know what¡¯s happening and to gather his troops. But you should know, by the time he gets here, the kobalds are going to be dead and that bullshit portal is going to be wrecked. Us wackos don¡¯t sit on our asses while people go off acting all heroic¡­ that¡¯s our thing. Now, if you¡¯ll excuse us, we¡¯ve got some ass-kicking to do.¡± Without bothering to wait for a reply, Nero glanced at the faces of his team, happy to see them all standing a little taller. ¡°Come along boys and girls, we¡¯ve got a pre-battle speech to attend and some murderous humans to convince,¡± he said while storming off to the command tent in the center of the massive chamber. While the team filed in behind him, he could see that their essence fields had calmed down and were now radiating hope and determination like beacons in the ether. They were even doing that weird blending thing which meant they were functioning as a group. All around them, hundreds of soldiers were packing up their things and running around like crazy. It was nothing short of controlled mayhem as their team leaders shouted out orders like lunatics. Wagons were filled with messily tossed supplies as if they were running against some imaginary clock. ¡®Why in the hell is everyone in such a rush? It¡¯s not like the kobalds are even going to be attacking. Their entire plan hinges on the defense of their stupid portal. Even if the army is falling back, it¡¯s not like the kobalds are going to interrupt them. Idiots,¡¯ he remarked to himself with a judgmental look on his face. As they made their way through the camp, Natalie was walking a little behind him on his left. ¡°Battle-Leader Averett has sent out a call for House Walker to gather in one of the mustering grounds. All but two of our teams will be there. The two that are missing are still en route from the tunnels with the survey teams they were escorting.¡± Nero nodded. ¡°Good, did Cathleen mention how many of the army forces are willing to attempt the assault?¡± ¡°Sir, she¡¯s been trying to contact you through your link. However, for some reason, the Battle Hub is replying to her with a message saying that you¡¯re ¡®Out to Lunch¡¯. Do you need a replacement link? Yours doesn¡¯t seem to be working correctly,¡± she said sounding utterly confused. Chuckling, Nero replied, ¡°No, I just turned it off because that alert pissed me off. It¡¯s not all that hard to fiddle with the settings if you work at it. I honestly didn¡¯t think changing the automated response like that would work. It¡¯s good to know though. I¡¯ll be sure to have some fun with that in the future. Anyway, don¡¯t worry about it, we¡¯ll be at the command tent soon and I can just talk to her there.¡± ¡°Very well, my lord. I¡¯ll let her know,¡± she replied quickly before going silent. Nero glanced over his shoulder with an amused expression on his face as she was obviously currently in contact with Cathleen, and probably suffering an auditory beatdown for not putting him on the ¡®phone¡¯. Most likely Cathleen had decided that they should evacuate with everyone else, then take part in the planned assault after the current one fails. She no doubt expects the portal to open, and to have to have some big epic fight to close it. Nero could see the cliche coming a mile away. However, he also thought that it would end up being both a waste of time and lives. If they could just stop the damn thing from opening, it would save everyone the headache of having to deal with whatever would be coming through from the other side. For that matter, he also doubted that it was all that wise to chance the ¡®three days¡¯ they had to close the portal. A lot of things could happen in three days. Letting the portal open could end up with them all stuck in another plane of existence having to fight endless hordes of kobalds for the chance of returning home. He¡¯d read that storyline so many times that he could practically already guess what was waiting for them on the other side. It would be a kingdom-building arc that would have them aligning with other cities and peoples who¡¯d been stolen from their own planes by the kobalds. Jennings, who conveniently had studied planar mechanics, would work with other species'' powerhouses to get them all back home. They would, of course, fail. Then, predictably, they would all end up somewhere else with all the species coming together under one banner to work together. Vera would end up running everything, and Nick would combine all the inter-species knowledge into one super-research center and offer their new mega-city a tech uplift. Somehow, Nero expected he¡¯d end up emperor or something after having to kill off some traitor nobles who¡¯d aligned with the kobalds or whoever they were facing wherever they ended up. It would be all epic and character-building for everyone involved. Vera would probably end up pregnant to demonstrate that life would go on. Or more likely City Lord Cosgrave would end up falling in love with some elf or something from one of the acquired allies to show that they could all successfully live together in harmony under his banner. Nero could practically see it all happening in his head like a prophecy. But, honestly, was he willing to go through all that? Absolutely not. It was much easier to just go all pre-emptive with the violence like a good American and end the threat decisively. After all, as long as they fought the kobalds before they opened the portal, all they¡¯d be facing were clones¡­ and those things were just begging to be ripped apart by spellfire. ¡®The damn things aren¡¯t good for anything else than fueling spells¡­ even kobalds are smart enough to know that,¡¯ he said to himself confidently as he and the team arrived at the command center. Standing there in front of the ridiculously large tent was Cathleen. She had her arms crossed in front of her chest with an uncharacteristically angry look on her face. The situation must be serious if she was forgoing her typically blank ¡®none-of-this-matters¡¯ expression and actually showing an emotion. Waving nonchalantly with one hand in greeting, Nero smirked and asked in greeting, ¡°Hey there good lookin¡¯, what¡¯s cookin¡¯? You look pissed, not looking forward to a heroic charge into the enemy and our subsequent victory against all odds? I figured this kind of thing would be right up your alley?¡± Chapter 259 - Selling the idea of adventure. Waiting in one of the communication rooms of the Tower of Magic, Vera thought back to the last time she¡¯d spoken with her mother. It had been just after her wedding had been officially finalized and registered with the Tower of Law, and she remembered the conversation well. After having taken her husband¡¯s name, Vera had finally cut ties with her mother¡¯s family, the Pendeltons. Allowing her to finally make a name for herself on her own. During the brief but heartfelt conversation, her mother had wished her well and congratulated her on having taken the first real step on her intended path. As a supportive and loving mother, she¡¯d made sure Vera knew that if she ever needed support, she would have it. Although, while It had been left unsaid that she fully expected Vera to handle things on her own, Vera had also sensed that she had been hinting at something more. While the Pendeltons operated primarily in the Capital, they had a presence in many cities across Oglivarch. Many branch houses, allied houses, and numerous independent houses had all been created by her mother¡¯s many children. Their fathers had all been great men, Vera¡¯s included, and it was expected any child raised in their house was destined for great things. All of her life, Vera had known that she would need to prove herself. And now, she finally had. She and her husband had founded their own house, taking advantage of the chaos of the density shift and the kobald war to ensure that they would have time to shore up their house¡¯s foundation. Their new house, House Verena, was a registered subhouse under the kingdom¡¯s newest unique, a great honor, and an even greater opportunity. Even in the capital, word must have spread of Lord Walker¡¯s status and she could only assume that her house¡¯s ties with him were the reason for her mother¡¯s requested communication. ¡°Signal acquired Lady Verena, the room is now active,¡± said one of the technicians monitoring the control desk. Offering the young woman a nod of thanks, Vera strode into the room as the doors silently closed behind her. There, standing in the middle of the room, was her mother¡¯s hologram. The woman¡¯s presence filled the room like a thick fog of essence not even bothering to make an effort to restrain itself. Greeting her, Vera said, ¡°Hello, mother. It¡¯s good to see you. I¡¯m assuming this is in regards to Nicholas¡¯ and my founding of House Verena?¡± Looking exactly as Vera remembered her, the woman was nothing if not elegant. Tall and thin, not a single hair was out of place. Everything about her screamed competence, while also carrying an intrinsic warmth that unfailingly endured her to everyone she came into contact with. She looked like someone had gone out of their way to give political mastery and power a physical form with the sole intent of unleashing it on the world to see what would happen. ¡°My dear, Vera. What have I told you about assuming things?¡± she asked as if their most recent conversation hadn¡¯t been decades ago. Smirking slightly, Vera tipped her head in acceptance of the rebuke. ¡°Apologies, mother. While I¡¯m no doubt overdue for a lecture or two, my guess at the purpose of your communique was not to confirm anything, but to merely open up a dialogue. As you taught me, there is no better way to entice someone to tell you their plans than to allow them the opportunity to prove you wrong.¡± Lord Pendelton¡¯s voice filled the room with the delightful sounds of her laughter. With the addition of her presence altering itself slightly, everything about her skillfully put Vera at ease¡­ despite how carefully Vera had mentally prepared herself to counter her. ¡°Oh, Vera. I have missed you. And in a way, I suppose my communication request is tangentially related to your new house¡¯s founding. But most likely not in the way you no doubt assume it is,¡± she replied slyly, her face adopting a smirk filled with love but tinged with a smidgeon of intrigue. While being sure to keep the curiosity out of her tone and her expression, Vera asked, ¡°Oh? So this isn¡¯t about our kingdom¡¯s newest unique, or the intercity trade opportunities that my house¡¯s status will likely position me to take advantage of during his upcoming travels?¡± Still smirking, Lord Pendelton replied, ¡°Not at all, my dear. Not at all. While I¡¯m no doubt proud that you managed to acquire such a strong backer, that is not why I requested this little reunion.¡± Like a seasoned politician, Lord Pendelton¡¯s expression smoothly transitioned to one of utmost seriousness. ¡°Vera, my dear. I wanted to check in with you concerning the Tower of Fate¡¯s recent troubles, and Dorchester¡¯s growing relevance as the centerpiece of the attacks against them.¡± As the local Tower of Fate in Dorchester hadn¡¯t existed for many years, Vera very rarely, if ever, thought about that particular social power. While it wasn¡¯t as if no one knew about them, citizens in Dorchester usually had few connections with the fateweavers¡­ aside from a few nobles and people who had ties to other cities where the Tower¡¯s presence was much more prolific. Wary of what she realized might be a blind spot in her intelligence gathering, Vera asked, ¡°Would you mind elaborating on what you mean by ¡®troubles¡¯, and specifically what role Dorchester plays in them?¡± ¡°Of course, dear. Although, your ignorance of what I¡¯m referring to is in itself an answer to several of my questions,¡± Lord Pendelton replied smoothly. Continuing on, she said, ¡°The Tower of Magic, along with several other organizations including the Royal Academy, various city centers, and even Oglivarch¡¯s military council have all been releasing information onto city Thought Hubs countering the Tower of Fate¡¯s veil of mystery and enigmatic practices. They have been systematically undercutting any belief that the fateweavers have any actual power to affect things outside of just reporting what is ¡®likely¡¯ to happen. Dorchester¡¯s current troubles have been highlighted as proof that the Tower of Fate is not all-knowing and that their prophecies can easily be misinterpreted or outright wrong.¡± Vera, raising one eyebrow in surprise, tried and failed to keep her mother from reading her. Smiling down at her daughter, she said, ¡°Yes, when looked at on the macro level, it is clear that someone or some ones in power is attempting to discredit or curb the Tower of Fate¡¯s power in the kingdom. While you may not be aware of it, for many years Dorchester¡¯s doom had been all but assured. By now, according to the prophecies, the city you live in should only just now recovering from a change in leadership. Yet, to the surprise of everyone who¡¯d been made aware of what would have likely happened, the Dorchens failed in their war and the prophesied density shift has come early. On top of all that, the kobalds whose very presence would have made the area no longer worth defending have now been exposed and your surprisingly full-strength army is embroiled in a war to eliminate them as a threat.¡± Vera¡¯s mind was racing. She¡¯d heard here and there that there had been some talk of Dorchester likely falling, but she hadn¡¯t realized there was any truth to the belief that an actual prophecy had been given. If that were true¡­ then her mother had obviously believed Vera and Nicholas¡¯ plans to found a house here had been doomed from the start. Feeling her mouth going dry from the shock of hearing that her mother had expected her to fail, Vera took a moment to rewet her lips. ¡°I have noticed that a few people are working at unknown purposes with ties to the capital here, but I hadn¡¯t realized they¡¯d gone out of their way to save the city with the intention of avoiding a prophecy. There has been no mention of it on the Thought Hub, and no one has purposely spoken about it in that light,¡± she said somewhat calmly. Vera¡¯s mother nodded in understanding, before replying in the tone Vera was used to hearing when the woman wanted to teach her something, ¡°If I were to tell you that no one from outside Dorchester has done anything to save the city, and the only interference I¡¯ve detected was the kingdom pointedly ignoring what specifically is being said on the Thought Hub there, then what conclusion would you draw?¡± Thinking quickly, Vera replied, ¡°I would say that either the Tower of Fate had been tricked into making a false prophecy deliberately in preparation for the smear campaign against them, or something else is going on and someone took the opportunity to eliminate them as a rival¡­ Most likely the Tower of Magic, considering the head of the mage council is currently serving as the court mage while ostensibly only being here to watch over our kingdom¡¯s newest unique. Who, coincidentally, has been at the center of everything from the beginning.¡± Smiling in appreciation of Vera¡¯s thought process, Lord Pendelton looked down at her daughter and said, ¡°Perhaps you might want to widen your gaze to include the rest of the kingdom while you work on building up your new house. I¡¯d hoped that losing your city would temper your resolve and teach you to focus more on your information-gathering skills through the benefit of connections, but the situation seems to be teaching you the same intended lessons albeit in a completely different manner than I¡¯d expected.¡± While Vera¡¯s mind hurriedly analyzed the various plots and plans that were likely in play, she stood in silence unable to formulate an appropriate response to the situation she found herself in. Her mother had intended to watch her fail, all so that she would learn to focus on politics and connections more. The woman would have allowed an entire city to fall, just to teach her a lesson. Chuckling lightly, Vera¡¯s mother interrupted her thoughts, ¡°Well my dear, as I¡¯ve already received the answers to my questions, and you now have a great deal to ponder¡­ I¡¯ll take my leave. It¡¯s been wonderful to see you, and now that you¡¯ve succeeded in your goal to found your own house, I expect to hear from you more often. If what I¡¯ve heard about your house¡¯s finances is true, you have plenty of funds to contact me at your leisure. Do let me know if you need anything, won¡¯t you? And if, heavens forbid, the city falls, you and your delightful husband will always be welcome here in Hennings, or any of our other cities. You¡¯re still quite young enough to start over, so don¡¯t feel that you must go down with your ship if you feel the winds shifting.¡±The narrative has been taken without permission. Report any sightings. Vera felt her mother¡¯s presence retreat from the room as the woman¡¯s holographic image vanished. She was left alone to think about everything her mother had said, while also considering everything she¡¯d left unsaid. As always, the woman was both helpful and confusing in equal measure¡­ leaving Vera both unsettled but also enlightened. ¡ª-- As usual, Cathleen had not taken the bait and had instead simply walked off while expecting Nero and his entourage to follow. Having no doubt already arranged things due to Natalie alerting her to his plans, Nero merely walked behind her with an amused smile on his face. Something about the way she handled herself always made him feel like a naughty child being dragged to the principal¡¯s office. The mustering yard Cathleen led them to was not far, and Nero could see that the wackos were already gathering. Knight Angleton was there along with many of the former soldiers. The criminal, or former criminal contingent was there as well. Interspersed throughout were some of the other people he recognized from the oath-giving ceremony. One and all, they turned toward him and lined up as he took the stage which had been previously set up so the commanders could address their troops. As they were on somewhat of a time crunch, Nero didn¡¯t have the opportunity to touch base with anyone and instead got right into his pitch. Taking his place at the center of the wooden platform, he infused a little more essence than was necessary into his voice so more than just the wackos would hear him and said, ¡°Thank you all for coming. I¡¯m sure you¡¯ve all heard about the kobald¡¯s portal that they¡¯re building and what the little lizard bastards are up to. I¡¯m also sure that you¡¯ve been told that it would be suicide to try and stop them from succeeding. I, and many others, have been assured that a larger force is going to be assembled to fight through their defenses to shut it down after it activates. What you may or may not know is that some troops have been allowed to volunteer to attempt to stop them before the damned thing even activates. Now, I don¡¯t know who exactly they¡¯re sending, or if anyone is even brave enough to actually try. But, what I do know is that nothing ensures failure like giving up without a fight.¡± Just as he¡¯d hoped, many of the soldiers who¡¯d been getting ready to retreat were listening in on what he was saying. The mustering yards were basically in the center of the base, and Nero¡¯s voice was carrying quite far. Standing ramrod straight, Nero tried to project as much confidence as he could as he began pacing back and forth across the platform. ¡°Many of you fought the kobalds with me on the surface. We stormed their base and kicked their teeth in, forcing them back underground. But, before that, we charged their lines and closed one of their damn portals all on our own while it was spilling out kobalds by the hundreds. Both times, we were outnumbered, and expected to fail,¡± Nero declared proudly. Running his gaze across his wackos, Nero shouted, ¡°But we didn¡¯t. We succeeded! We won!¡± Having expected a raucous cheer, or at least some enthused shouting, Nero paused. Annoyingly, all he got in response was the sound of metaphorical crickets. However, he still decided to keep going. After all, he knew the key to sales was to continue talking until the customer agreed with you. ¡°Granted, the kobalds currently attempting to open the portal have had time to set up defenses. And if we do attack them, we¡¯ll most likely be doing it all by our lonesome. That¡¯s right, the army¡¯s given up. They¡¯re going to play it safe. Or at least that¡¯s what they think they¡¯re doing,¡± he said sarcastically. ¡°In reality, they¡¯re purposely giving up the initiative. The kobalds will use that portal to bring in more troops, improving their numbers and increasing their defenses. Once that portal opens¡­ that¡¯s it¡­ we¡¯re done. From what I understand, this portal is going to be different, it¡¯s going to be much harder to close after it¡¯s opened. You¡¯ve all heard the same briefing I have and can read between the lines. Command is both terrified of what that portal is capable of and too afraid to do anything about it!¡± he shouted. Rubbing the back of his neck as if he were empathizing with their point of view, he added, ¡°Now, I may be wrong, and the best thing to do is to wait for reinforcements. Maybe the portal won¡¯t be so bad, and a coordinated assault with more troops will end up being able to close it. That¡¯s a possibility, sure. But I don¡¯t think so.¡± Looking around at the wackos, Nero realized that he hadn¡¯t actually told them that he intended for them to fight. Yes, they were listening intently, but he¡¯d botched his pitch and weren¡¯t yet on board with what he was selling. Stupidly, he¡¯d just begun talking while assuming they knew about what he¡¯d already decided. While he¡¯d already told his own team his intentions, he¡¯d accidentally skipped that part of the speech for everyone else here. Instead, he¡¯d jumped ahead to the ¡®convincing them¡¯ portion of his salesmanship. ¡®Okay, moron. Redo your opening and explain your reasoning. It¡¯s in their best interest to ¡®buy¡¯ the assault you''re selling, you just need to explain to them why,¡¯ he told himself stubbornly. ¡°We came into this mountain to eliminate the kobalds. Letting them succeed in their plans in any way is unacceptable to me. They want to open a portal, I say we stop them. Maybe they outnumber us, but you¡¯ve fought them¡­ they¡¯re weak. Especially the ones we¡¯ve been fighting. They¡¯re clones, barely sentient meat bags that are basically just little rage monsters having tantrums. Without their leaders, they would barely be worth the effort of killing,¡± he said dramatically. Pointing out at the crowd of wackos, he said, ¡°You are the Wackos of House Walker! You joined up on the promise of adventure and excitement. Every one of you followed me into these tunnels knowing what we¡¯d be facing, and what we¡¯d be fighting for. One of you is worth a hundred of those pathetic excuses for toddler lizards. We can beat them! More importantly, we can STOP them!¡± Nero felt the crowd beginning to come around, he could see it in their essence fields. The longer he was up there on that platform, the more he could see their fears dying down and their hope reigniting. ¡°I¡¯m not sure if you know this, but there is a reason I¡¯m always talking about adventure. It¡¯s not just about who I am, or what I want to do with my life. You see, I wasn¡¯t always like this. I used to just be some guy working in a shop like so many people in the city outside this mountain. I was a nobody, just another face in the crowd,¡± he said sadly while ensuring that his voice still carried. ¡°Then one day, I decided that I no longer wanted to just wait for life to happen to me. I wanted to be the main character in my own story. I made a choice. I stuck my nose into somebody else''s business when it would have been smarter to just sit back and watch. Was it smart? No. Did I care? Also, no. To me, being an adventurer means putting myself in the dumb position of trying to make a difference when the odds are against me. I¡¯m not saying adventurers are suicidal, as I don¡¯t have any immediate plans to try to slay any dragons. But, if there¡¯s a chance that what I do can make a difference? That the fight in front of me is worth fighting? Then the question becomes ¡®What kind of person do I want to be¡¯? There is plenty of talk about paths here, and I¡¯ve seen my fair share of evidence that it¡¯s actually a real thing. But I think people forget that paths only matter when they are going somewhere. It¡¯s not about who you are now, or where you¡¯re headed, it¡¯s about where you want to end up. Do you want to be someone who trudges along just doing the minimum required of you every day? Or do you want to be someone who ends up looking back on who you are now and be able to say, ¡®That was when my path truly began¡¯? Today, the kobalds and command have given you a gift. You have the opportunity to do something crazy that can end up saving the entire damned city! A noble will tell you that we need to prepare for all eventualities, carefully considering our options. While a commoner will tell you that you need to hide and let someone else handle it. Even a soldier will most likely tell you that command has it handled and to follow orders. Logically, command will tell you that we¡¯ve been caught unprepared and therefore need to restrategize. But an adventurer? They¡¯ll tell you that there is glory waiting for you up there,¡± he said, gesturing to the tunnels with excitement in his eyes, silently pleading with them to recognize it with him. ¡°We have healers and magic at our fingertips. Friends by our side and comrades in arms willing to fight alongside us. We have everything we need to stop this disaster before it happens. You can all feel it, can¡¯t you? That possibility that we might succeed? The ether is practically screaming at us with the potential futures that might happen. The kobalds are up there waiting¡­ plotting¡­ hoping that we will be too scared to confront them. They¡¯ve been hiding in this mountain for years, hoping and praying that we wouldn¡¯t find them. But, we did. And now we¡¯re going to let them call in reinforcements? I say HELL NO! I say we go up there and ruin their shit, smash their toys, and defy the damned odds. I¡¯m an adventure¡­ and THAT,¡± he declared while pointing at the tunnels, ¡°Is an adventure!¡± Panting, he took a moment to catch his breath. ¡°I told you before I would never order you to follow me. Instead, I¡¯m letting you know that I¡¯m going to go up there. You all can choose to come along and earn yourselves some bragging rights along the way. So,¡± he said as he swept his gaze across the assembled men and women of House Walker, ¡°Who¡¯s coming with me?¡± As if he were hit by a tsunami of noise, he was rocked back onto his heels as the crowd erupted in cheers. They were practically frothing at the mouth in excitement. Feeling people stepping up onto the podium, Nero looked over his shoulders to see both Cathleen and Knight Angleton approaching. Placing themselves alongside him, Nero wondered for a moment what they were planning. ¡°Wackos of House Walker, and any of you soldiers that wish to come along. Our command channel is open, and team leaders are to join up after your members are geared up. Frontline fighters will be under Knight Angleton, ranged and magic will be with me. Ms. Keening will be coordinating healers and support at the back. I want a finalized count and troop composition ready as soon as possible so we can assign positions for shields,¡± she ordered, her voice thundering across the mustering field like a cannon. ¡°Heroes of Dorchester! Time is wasting! Let¡¯s move it!¡± shouted Knight Angleton, spurning everyone to action. Nero watched with a giddy smile as the entire crowd exploded like a bomb, everyone running off to get ready. Knight Angleton turned to Nero and said, once again speaking in a normal tone of voice, ¡°My lord, all I¡¯ve ever wanted to be was someone willing to fight the horrors of the world so others don¡¯t have to. Thank you for giving me the opportunity to be the man I¡¯ve always wanted to be.¡± Nero, forgetting that he was still in the mindset of infusing his voice with essence, replied much much too loudly, ¡°Being an adventurer is a dream come true for me too. We¡¯re going to stop inter-dimensional lizards from calling home by fighting them with swords and magic. And the best part is, as long as we aren¡¯t being idiots, we get to do it all while having infinite respawns! How freakin¡¯ cool is that!¡± Realizing that everyone had paused what they were doing to listen to him, while Knight Angleton had backed away from him wincing in pain, Nero snapped his mouth shut. After shutting off the essence infusion into his voice, he said quietly, ¡°Sorry, I forgot to turn off the mic. But, either way¡­ the point still stands. This is going to be freakin¡¯ epic!¡± Chapter 260 - Feeling the flow. Even with how dire the circumstances were, Commander Dahl was feeling more and more comfortable with the situation that he and his city found themselves in. He could tell that everyone in the Command Hall felt the same way. There was a sense of control permeating the room that had been absent up until now. Their training, the battles and conflicts they¡¯d faced, and everything they knew about commanding troops revolved around knowing their enemy. Being caught off guard by the kobald¡¯s presence in their mountain had shaken them. But it had been the lack of intelligence that had ultimately made them feel like they were unable to do their jobs. Now that he could see the difference, he was surprised that he hadn¡¯t realized it before. The commanders, sub-commanders, aides, and support staff were all moving around the hall with purpose, their confidence and competence with what they were doing fully on display. Where before there was a lack of focus, now there was once again a sense of efficiency. Having the ability to scry on the enemy and tactically evaluate the best way to combat them made everyone here feel in control of the situation¡­ even if they all knew they weren¡¯t. ¡°Commander! There¡¯s been a¡­ development with the volunteer assault on the enemy ritual in the throne room!¡± the sub-commander in charge of the situation in the upper tunnels called out. Looking up from the hologram in front of him tracking the reorganization of the troops in the lower city, he asked, ¡°If there are less than 500 willing to try, cancel the order. There is no point in them wasting their lives. We¡¯ll need every soldier we can for the planned assault to close it.¡± Shaking her head with an uncomfortable expression on her face, she replied, ¡°That¡¯s not what¡¯s happening, sir. While I expected some of the more stubborn team leaders to want to try and push through, I thought most would see reason. However, it seems that almost everyone in Forward Operating Base 3 is willing to attempt to stop the portal from opening. The base commander sent an alert that he and his entire complement would be leaving within 10 minutes.¡± While Commander Dahl was typically a rather reserved man, the news was enough to have him shooting up in his seat like a fresh recruit hearing his deployment orders for the first time. He didn¡¯t know if he was feeling excitement, concern, or confusion. ¡°The entire F.O.B. is mobilizing? But¡­ why? They must know that they¡¯re all going to die,¡± he uttered in total shock. ¡°It¡¯s not just them, sir. Two other F.O.B.s are moving out as well, in addition to 34 teams from the F.O.B.s that have acknowledged the retreat,¡± she said while leaning over the table and manipulating the hologram to display the upper city¡¯s map. ¡°They¡¯re planning to work together to assault this encampment in what was formerly the noble quarter,¡± she said while highlighting a kobald position. ¡°Considering the distance between the F.O.B.s, our troops should be arriving in waves from two different tunnel systems. The commanders who¡¯ve agreed to take part in the operation have coordinated their assault timers and have made it clear that they¡¯ll be leaving their F.O.B.s undefended. They¡¯ve only bothered to alert us because of the possibility the kobalds might try and take advantage of the situation by deploying their troops from the other defensive positions they won¡¯t be engaging. While more likely they¡¯ll be called in as reinforcements to protect the ritual, the commanders wanted us to be aware of what was happening,¡± she said quickly, practically speed-talking to get the information out as quickly as possible. Standing up from his seat and leaning over the table to take a closer look at the map, Commander Dahl asked, ¡°All together, how many troops are being deployed?¡± ¡°11,324, sir,¡± she replied curtly. Sighing, Commander Dahl replied, ¡°That¡¯s not going to be nearly enough. And even if it were, they would have to move at a run the entire way to make it in time. The portal will already have been opened by the time they get there. Why are they doing this?¡± ¡°Because of this, sir,¡± she replied while opening another hologram to display a memory engram from a soldier who¡¯d been close enough to observe Lord Walker¡¯s speech. There wasn¡¯t much time to watch the whole thing, and he really should be focusing on the matter at hand instead of playing catch-up, but instead, he found himself staring at the young lord¡¯s face. Lord Walker looked¡­no, he felt confident. And while it wasn¡¯t the most rousing speech he¡¯d ever heard, there was something about the call to adventure that resonated with him. Something that he assumed resonated with most of the soldiers who¡¯d agreed to go along with him. ¡®Maybe it wouldn¡¯t be impossible to stop them?¡¯ he wondered to himself before shaking his head to clear the illogical thoughts from his brain. The loss of over 11,000 troops would hurt. He¡¯d only been able to free up 35,000 from the forces in the lower city, and the remaining forces above ground weren¡¯t going to be available for a while. He needed to focus on the aftermath after the young lord failed. Conservative estimates had them needing at least 50,000 troops to close the active portal, and he needed to find enough troops to do it. Standing up straight, he looked over at the sub-commander and said, ¡°Well, we don¡¯t have time to cancel the order for volunteers. We gave them the option, and they¡¯re taking advantage of it. If this is what they want to do, then we¡¯ll just have to accept it. The commanders will hopefully be able to pull back before the losses become absolute. If not, at least we¡¯ll have more intelligence on what the kobalds are capable of.¡± Nodding in understanding, she replied, ¡°I¡¯m sorry, sir. When I allowed for the possibility of volunteers to try and close the portal, I didn¡¯t expect something like this to happen.¡± Reaching out to pat her comfortingly on the shoulder, Commander Dahl replied, ¡°It¡¯s not your fault. Good men and women have always been led to their deaths by charismatic leaders. That¡¯s just the way the world works. Our job is to ensure that civilization stands after people like him,¡± he paused to point at the hologram showing Lord Walker before concluding what he was saying, ¡°fail.¡± ¡ª-- Nero stood near the back of the tent, watching the meeting progress with an expression of confusion on his face. He hadn¡¯t expected the response to his call to arms to be met with a war council. Instead of everyone rushing through the tunnels screaming for blood, Cathleen gathered everyone together for a rushed planning session. At the head of the table, the woman stood like a miniature force of nature, her height belying her profound presence in the room. Even though everyone stood taller, looked more intimidating, and generally held themselves more like soldiers, not one of them was willing to contradict her. ¡°Forces from here and here will arrive first. Their job will be to engage the enemy and have them focus on this tunnel system here. If they utilize the kobald tunnels we¡¯ve discovered, they should be able to hold the enemy''s focus long enough for our arrival to be a surprise,¡± she said evenly, her voice tinged with an undercurrent of bloodlust. With a wave of her hand, she altered the map to show another system of tunnels. ¡°After we wipe out their defenses, we¡¯ll have access to the higher floors. We¡¯ll split off teams to harass and slow down any reinforcements that they will call from the other defensive encampments. Our primary assault force cannot be allowed to be slowed down by constant fighting. If we¡¯re going to make it in time, we¡¯ll need to move quickly.¡± One of the commanders asked, ¡°Is that why we¡¯ll be leaving the spell cannons behind? You know that some of the upper chambers are large enough to put them to use. We might end up regretting not having that kind of firepower behind us.¡± Cathleen shook her head and replied, ¡°The engineering teams move too slowly. We¡¯ll just have to make do with what we have. A lot of the upper floors have large chambers which were used for shopping centers and parks. Almost every tunnel system funnels into them, and that¡¯s where the kobalds have gathered. From what we¡¯ve seen, they mostly ignore the residential areas and housing structures preferring to swarm in larger numbers. While the spell cannons would be helpful, the kobalds haven¡¯t set up any defenses that would require that kind of artillery. We¡¯ll be able to make do with steel and magic.¡± For Nero, it was a novel experience to see them planning the offensive. On the one hand, it was very similar to what he had seen in the movies, powerful leaders in fancy armor and ornate tabards discussing the upcoming battles and making plans. But it was the lack of paper orders and the details that made the situation feel somewhat different than he¡¯d expected. Every one of them had their links lit up on their temples, making it clear that they were in use. Nero could just tell that they were all multitasking, sending out orders while calmly discussing things like professionals. The lack of physical movement undercut the feeling of haste that all of their essence fields were projecting. Nero tried to use his link to follow along with what they were doing, but he quickly got overwhelmed. He still couldn¡¯t figure out how they were able to pay attention to so many things at once. While he had assumed people like Nick and Vera were outliers, he now had hard evidence that a lot of people were able to function like normal while they did all kinds of things on their link. Cathleen, who Nero knew to be a physical fighter, was clearly coordinating an entire war effort while holding a serious conversation with these serious people. Something he was absolutely positive he would be unable to do. Clearly, he needed to work on his mental skills. Setting that aside for the moment, he focused on the ether in the room. Everyone¡¯s sense of urgency was coming together to stir up the essence flows. The disconnect between how the situation ¡®felt¡¯ and how they were all just standing around was making him feel agitated. Considering how the essence felt¡­ just standing around was torture.Unauthorized tale usage: if you spot this story on Amazon, report the violation. He felt like he needed to move¡­ NOW. Luckily, the meeting was almost over and everyone soon broke off to handle their assignments. Nero, not knowing where he should go, followed Cathleen. The tension in the ether outside the command tent was just as strong, if not stronger than it had been inside. He couldn¡¯t stop himself from repeatedly clenching his fists in anticipation of what was coming. When they arrived back at the mustering ground with the Wackos, Cathleen approached Knight Angleton who was standing alongside former Sergeant Blackwood. The knight was standing there with his eyes closed and his arms crossed, his link¡¯s bright light making it clear he was in contact with the Battle Hub. Yet, the moment Cathleen approached, he opened his eyes and said, ¡°Teams are assigned and ready to move out. Just give the word.¡± Nero, standing in between them felt like there was a conversation happening he wasn¡¯t aware of, like he was missing out on a private joke¡­ but without the levity. Cathleen didn¡¯t audibly respond, but she must have made her intentions clear because Knight Angleton offered her a nod before turning to the Wackos and shouting, ¡°All right Wackos, listen up! We¡¯re moving out! Team leaders, get your Wackos in formation and firm your resolve. We have an enemy to wipe out!¡± Turning to Cathleen, Nero was about to ask about his assignment but didn¡¯t have the chance. She was already gone. Frowning in annoyance at her rudeness, he placated himself with the fact that she was probably holding multiple conversations and simply didn¡¯t have time for him right now. Looking around the chamber, he could tell that every single person knew what they were supposed to be doing. It was an eerie feeling, knowing that he¡¯d put all of this into motion by declaring that he intended to stop the portal from opening whether or not anyone else was willing to come along. He felt like a kid who¡¯d told his parents that he wanted to see the Grand Canyon and was then set down in the corner so everyone else could work their asses off to plan the entire trip. He felt like he should be doing something, and be more involved in the planning. Not that he had all that much to contribute to that kind of thing. Turning back to Knight Angleton, Nero was about to ask him where he was needed before pausing for a moment. Did he know the guy¡¯s first name? And if he did, why didn¡¯t he ever use it? The guy wasn¡¯t a captain anymore and was now part of his house, so he should probably be on a first-name basis with him. He referred to everyone else by their first name, so why not him? Tapping the incredibly tall man on the forearm to get his attention, Nero looked up at him and asked, ¡°Hey, what¡¯s the protocol here for using first names when you¡¯re talking to someone? Have I been making an ass out of myself by calling Cathleen, Cathleen? I don¡¯t have to start calling Nick, Lord Verena, do I? Cause I¡¯m not doing that.¡± Knight Angleton looked down at Nero with a confused expression on his face. The normally stoic man had been looking particularly heroic as he watched over the Wackos preparing to move out, but now that image had been shattered by how utterly baffled he looked. ¡°Uh¡­ I¡¯m sorry, my lord. What?¡± he asked. Nero, feeling like he needed to explain his thought process, replied, ¡°You know. You were Captain Angleton, but now you¡¯re Knight Angleton because you changed jobs but are still a knight. I¡¯m not sure exactly how all that works, but I¡¯m guessing it¡¯s like a doctor''s title. Once you¡¯ve graduated from medical school, you¡¯re always going to be a doctor even if you don¡¯t necessarily work in a hospital. So, I get calling you Knight¡­ it makes sense. But what I don¡¯t get is the social convention about what I should call everyone else. And since I¡¯m your lord or whatever, shouldn¡¯t I be calling you by your first name? Or is that rude? Or is it rude that I don¡¯t? Do you feel like my being less familiar with you than I am with Cathleen and Natalie undercuts your authority with the Wackos, or am I undercutting theirs by not using their titles¡­ if they have any that is? Does Cathleen have a title? Battle Leader, right? But I can¡¯t call her that when we¡¯re finished with the war, can I? Or is that like the knight thing, now that she has been a Battle Leader, will that forever be one of her titles? What I¡¯m trying to ask is how I should be addressing people so I don¡¯t sound like an asshole.¡± If Nero still had access to a phone, this would have been a perfect time to take a picture of Knight Angleton¡¯s face. The man looked poleaxed, his jaw dropped open and his eyes glazed over in absolute befuddlement. ¡°Have you not discussed this with Lady Verena, or Vera if you will?¡± he asked. Shrugging, Nero replied, ¡°I don¡¯t think it ever came up. Or if it did, I wasn¡¯t listening. I do that, you know¡­ not listen. It¡¯s important to acknowledge your faults, that way they can¡¯t be used against you. Never give the enemy ammunition, am I right? But, back to my question, I need to know the social protocol here.¡± Snapping his mouth shut, Knight Angleton¡¯s expression became a little more serious as he mentally focused on the question. It was clear the man had never considered how the culture he¡¯d grown up with dealt with things like titles, not so directly at least. ¡°Well, my lord. Typically how you address someone is dictated by how you are interacting with them at the time. In social situations, you could easily address them with their first name or their title interchangeably. However, using a person¡¯s title will set the tone for what you mean to discuss. For example, outside of war, you could address Ms. Averett as Cathleen if you wish the conversation to be personal rather than professional. As lord of House Walker, you are expected to always be the one in charge of the conversation''s tone. Using a person¡¯s first name implies that you don¡¯t intend to discuss anything important¡­ usually. I believe that your¡­ unique personality may somewhat alter how people perceive that dynamic,¡± he said cautiously. Nero, not understanding, replied, ¡°How do you mean?¡± Looking somewhat uncomfortable, Knight Angleton replied, ¡°My lord, are you sure we should be discussing this right now?¡± Gesturing with his gauntleted fist, he waved at the assembled Wackos who were now standing there staring at them in anticipation of the order to move out. ¡®Right. The portal. Not the time for small talk. Got it,¡¯ he thought to himself. Coughing into his hand to cover his embarrassment, Nero replied, ¡°Of course. We¡¯ll circle back to this later. Carry on with the deployment of our forces. I¡¯ll just return to my team and¡­ yeah. Anyway, good talk.¡± Not waiting for a response, Nero scurried off to find Natalie and the rest of his team. Slipping through the lines of the Wackos, he ducked his head as he could feel everyone he passed looking at him with various levels of confusion mixed with adoration. ¡®When I dubbed them Wackos, I¡¯d not expected them to turn out to be this crazy,¡¯ he thought to himself. Quickly realizing he had no idea where he was going, he connected with his link to find out his assignment. Granted, he should have already checked it, but he¡¯d been busy at the time overseeing the war planning¡­ or at least that¡¯s the excuse he¡¯d use if anyone bothered to call him on it. It took him only a minute or two to find out where in the formation he was supposed to be, and through judicious use of the link along with his perception field, he slid up next to Merrick as the entire formation began moving out. Whisper-talking up at the man, he said, ¡°Hey man, how¡¯s it going?¡± Merrick, looking somewhat amused at Nero¡¯s familiar tone replied, ¡°Very well, my lord. Is there anything you need?¡± ¡°Nope, I¡¯m good. Ready to go to war and all that. Kinda crazy how we¡¯ve been sitting on our asses with our thumbs up our buts for days doing nothing, and all of a sudden we¡¯re now rushing off to end the threat of an interdimensional invasion. Mondays¡­ am I right?¡± he asked jovially while wiping his sweaty palms on his pants. Nero hadn¡¯t realized how ¡®off¡¯ he¡¯d been acting until now, but seeing the utter confusion on Merrick¡¯s face at what he was saying made him do a quick self-check on his mental state. Looking at how he¡¯d been acting somewhat objectively, he¡¯d been acting a bit looney. Once he recognized that fact, he quickly figured out the cause. It was the ether, or more specifically the sense of urgency and tension in the essence flows all around him. The fact that everyone was broadcasting their nervousness was playing havoc with his state of mind. The more ¡®in tune¡¯ he got with the ether, the more it seemed to be affecting him. Whatever response Merrick had to what he¡¯d said, Nero missed. He was too focused on his recent discovery of his susceptibility to emotional groupthink. Whenever he got nervous, he babbled¡­ like everyone did. His brain needed an outlet for all the nervous tension, and focusing on pointless questions and quips he would normally waste time looking up on his phone was historically his go-to response. The moment he realized that he almost connected to the Thought Hub through his link so he could find an answer to his social protocol question, but he managed to stop himself. Now wasn¡¯t the time for that. He was, quite literally, going to war. He should be focusing on that. Taking a few deep breaths to center himself, Nero forced his swirling emotions to calm down. He needed a clear mind, but it was surprisingly difficult to combat the prevailing sense of nerves that flooded the ether all around him. While individually, each person was capable of dealing with their stress on their own, the overlapping tension was enough to overwhelm him. It wasn¡¯t affecting anyone else because they weren¡¯t capable of feeling it to the degree that he could. For them, it was like an itch in the back of their mind. That feeling of tension in the room when something was about to happen. The subtle herd mind that shared the groups'' emotions with the individuals that made it up. Nero on the other hand somehow was able to look at it from both a member and an outside observer. Once he¡¯d gone looking for it, he couldn¡¯t miss it. It was obvious. Rather than join in with it, he needed to separate himself from it. Otherwise, he¡¯d end up being nothing more than a reflection of what the predominant emotion of the group was feeling at the moment. While quick-marching alongside everyone, Nero tried to focus his mind on something else. He opened his link to check in on the orders they¡¯d received so he could understand the overall battle plan. Even though he¡¯d been in the room when Cathleen and the commanders had decided it, he figured it would be a good idea to review it and use it as a medium to focus on so he could calm himself down. With his position in the Battle-Hub, he was able to see the grand plan laid out like a bullet point. All of the teams that had agreed to come along would be using the kobald tunnels to move through the upper city to save time. Rather than being restricted to the main tunnels, the kobald tunnels cut through portions of the city directly, allowing the army and his forces to get where they were going faster than the army¡¯s tacticians had accounted for. Nero couldn¡¯t recall who¡¯d specifically come up with that portion of the plan, but it had been inspired. From there, everyone would be focusing on a singular kobald encampment to push through, leaving the others alone. After they got past them, they¡¯d be leaving troops behind to stop the other encampments from chasing after them. No one expected the troops to stop them outright, only that they¡¯d slow them down enough for them not to matter. Then it was a straight shot through the larger chambers in the upper floors and onto the throne room where the ritual to open the portal was taking place. Nero hadn¡¯t said anything, but he already had a plan for that when they got there. Surrounded by taller Wackos, Nero kept his head down as they made their way through the tunnels. Considering how tight the walls were, their formations were only 5 people wide. ¡®Ok, big guy. Focus on what you need to do, let the emotional crap flow around you. You¡¯re a leaf in the wind and all that,¡¯ he told himself while doing everything he could to keep his mind clear of any outside influence. Chapter 261 - Are we there yet? Chapter 30 (261) Experience was a wonderful teacher, and he had always been a good student. Being alive for as long as he has been, King Oliver Oglivarch had learned how to shape things to his liking. Although it took him a few centuries, he¡¯d managed to arrange most things within his sphere of influence into a pleasing symphony or order and support for his interests. Everyone who was anyone had learned to trust in his wisdom and planning, and every facet of his life both personal and kingly was running smoothly. At least until recently, that is. In many ways, he¡¯d just been taking advantage of a situation as it developed. He¡¯d wrung as much benefit out of the chaos as he could, and it had been working splendidly. The mildly interesting anomalous soul that had cropped up in his kingdom allowed for a wedge in the expected fate of one of the more historically interesting cities in his kingdom. Dorchester. It had once been on the rise before the city lord at the time had attempted to break away from his father¡¯s control. The area of the strates in which it resided had nearly been lost from what he recalled. The resulting battles had disrupted the local essence flows enough to set the city''s progress back 2 tiers. Oliver remembered his father being less than happy about it at the time. Now, the city had once again become a city of interest. A focal point that demanded attention. As a result, he¡¯d put some pieces into play and started a game. So far, he¡¯d successfully derailed multiple Greater House¡¯s plans to grow in power by taking over the city before it renewed its profitability, utilized the area as a bargaining chip with the dwarves, eliminated a small but troubling house that had managed to survive his father¡¯s purging, and best of all, used it decimate the intrinsic trust that the Tower of Fate had developed with his citizens. He¡¯d known about Dorchester¡¯s internal strife which would have left them wide open to the kobalds¡­ whom he had also been well aware of. He¡¯d predicted the early arrival of the density shift which he¡¯d arranged to set in motion. He¡¯d even managed to get Archmage Jennings out of the Tower of Magic so the man would finally begin training his successor. Numerous little nudges here and there on the scales of fate pushed things toward his desired outcome. Even after his wife and his consorts had found out what he¡¯d been up to, he¡¯d managed to keep them focused on the Tower of Fate and out of the grander plan to stabilize the region with minimal effort on the greater kingdom¡¯s part. It had all been going so well. Stifling his growl of annoyance, he schooled his emotions and wiped his expression clear of any hint of his discontent. It wouldn¡¯t be productive for people to question whether or not he¡¯d seen this coming. Keeping his voice calm as a still lake in the winter, he turned away from the view from his tower and looked at the assembled nobles and aides who¡¯d come to check in with him, and said, ¡°I understand your concerns, and I believe there are protocols in place for occasions such as this. Rather than becoming panicked, I suggest you wait for things to progress at their own pace. There is no danger of having half the strates lost to another plane. Everything is already being taken care of.¡± The noble who¡¯d led this little delegation stepped forward, his hands nervously rubbing his palms against each other like a coward. ¡°Sire, I¡¯m sure that everything is under control, as you say. However, the Tower of Fate has made it clear that someone has disrupted the necessary flow of events that would have kept this from happening. They¡¯re claiming a demon or some other heretic has manipulated events to cause this catastrophe.¡± The man then went silent, not wanting to imply that the king had missed someone or something so significant in his kingdom. It would not do to doubt the king¡¯s powers of observation. The king said nothing in response, merely waiting for the man to continue to ramble away. He would have preferred not even having this meeting, but some of the nobles that were here had ties to some powerful lords from grand houses. The idiot he was currently speaking with was even the great-great-grandson of the head of House Roventrus, while also being a lord of a house of his own. Therefore, he couldn¡¯t just ignore them outright¡­ despite how much he wanted to. Coughing uncomfortably into his hand, the man did indeed buckle under the silence before continuing. ¡°You see, while we all know that the Fateweavers are not infallible, they¡¯ve been aware of Dorchester¡¯s downfall for years. But, they predicted it would fall to the kobalds and that it would have to be resettled¡­ Not ripped away from our material plane and stolen. Nothing in the past 6 months has gone as they¡¯d expected. Someone is clearly working to disrupt the natural progression of events that they¡¯d predicted. Sire, we believe you might need to be more proactive in your deployment of the Populators. Events cannot continue to defy fate¡¯s decree!¡± he ended in a zealous shout, revealing his true reason for being here. The king stared down at the man in disgust, the barest hint of his opinion of the man displayed in his glare. ¡°Fate¡¯s decree? I was unaware that the Tower of Fate was given the mandate to dictate the future of the kingdom. Since the time of its founding, the kingdom has been managed by my family and my family alone. As king, it is MY duty to decide the future of the kingdom. It¡¯s fate MINE to decree. You would all do well to remember that,¡± he said coldly but calmly while allowing a whisper of his power to inundate the ether around them. The top of the tower they were on was mostly open to the elements, and it had only been due to the king¡¯s grace that the wind wasn¡¯t ripping past them. At the king¡¯s discretion, that protection was lifted and the icy gusts of air cut through them like a knife, leaving them gasping for air. But it was his presence in the ether that truly took their breath away. While normally imposing, his presence surged like a wave crushing them under its might. Without another word, they all began racing for the stares. Pausing only long enough to beg his forgiveness for wasting his time and promising that they would trust in the kingdom¡¯s excellent services to handle things. Meanwhile, the king had already mentally dismissed them from his attention. Turning away, he returned to his observation of the capital and the rest of his kingdom. ¡®How did the hells be damned kobalds manage to develop a ritual to create a planar anchor?¡¯ he wondered to himself. He¡¯d been watching them working toward a planar invasion for almost a century, and they¡¯d not shown any capability of doing anything close to this level of planar magic. Obviously, someone on the other side of their portals must have stepped in, attempting to seize the opportunity just as he had. It wouldn¡¯t be enough to have the Tower of Fate proven wrong, they must be proven wrong in a way that turns out beneficial to the kingdom. Therefore, Dorchester must NOT fall, and they must do so on their own. ¡®I¡¯ve done all that I can for them at the moment. Now, we¡¯ll just have to wait and see if the pieces I¡¯ve arranged will be enough to contend with this new hidden opponent. Worst comes to worst, I¡¯ll just cut my losses and allow the city to be resettled with friendlier houses. The fateweavers have been discredited to a degree, and the campaign against them is progressing smoothly. And who knows¡­ they might end up succeeding. I might end up having to reward that anomalous soul more than I was already going to,¡¯ he thought to himself. Yet, over the years King Oliver had also learned to plan for all eventualities. Especially the most likely ones. Regardless of the consequences of violating the laws that kept the kingdom running, he¡¯d have to step in if the anchor was successfully placed. Therefore, his agent would have to pressure the local council of leadership to request the kingdom¡¯s aid before it was too late. Violating a city¡¯s legal autonomy would cause issues well beyond what he was willing to deal with. So, the legal necessities had to be handled promptly and properly. ¡®Still¡­.there¡¯s time enough to give them a chance,¡¯ he decided to himself. ¡ª-- While he rushed through the tunnels with the rest of the Wackos, Nero had plenty of time to analyze how his mind was functioning. Or, more accurately, disfunctioning. It took a minute or two, but he eventually got a handle on things. He found distancing himself from the emotions of the people around him both somewhat complicated but relatively easier than he¡¯d expected it to be. It essentially came down to first recognizing what was happening, and then deciding to stop it. The fact of the matter was, his control of his own mind was something he¡¯d already grown used to managing at a metaphysical distance. At best guess, it was either an ability or a talent that he¡¯d become able to do as a result of his soul commandeering the body he was using, and not something he was consciously making an effort to learn. The sensation of slipping into the emotional groupthink of those around him was eerily similar to how he could let himself get lost in the Thought Hub. Which, in its own way, made sense. Both the resulting fields of overlapped essence from those around him and the crystals that made up the Thought Hub were based on the same thing. The book that Nick had ¡®forced¡¯ him to read had explained it well enough for Nero to understand the concept well enough to recognize the similarities. Basically, the software that ran Thought Hubs was the accumulation of mind imprints from the people using them. So, they were pretty much the same thing as a bunch of people imprinting their feelings onto the essence flows in the ether while just lacking the purpose that was inherent in a mental imprint. So, Nero dealt with it the same way he had when he found his mind falling too deep into the Thought Hub¡­ he just took a mental step back and looked at the situation logically. Which he could do due to the fact that his ¡®mind¡¯ wasn¡¯t so much his mind as it was a projected aspect of the ¡®mind¡¯ that was housed in his soul.This content has been unlawfully taken from Royal Road; report any instances of this story if found elsewhere. ¡®Just thinking about this is giving me a headache,¡¯ he thought to himself. Regardless, it worked, and he was once again feeling more like himself. And rather than dwell on it, he did the same thing he did with all the other weird aspects of his new life. He simply set it aside for the moment and mentally reminded himself to put it on the list of things he¡¯d eventually have to look into when he got around to it. Since they were moving at a jog, Nero felt a little uncomfortable trying to hold a conversation, but he felt like he needed to mentally change the subject. So, he caught Merrick¡¯s attention by huffing, ¡°Hey man, I get that we¡¯re using the kobald tunnels to move up through the floors, but these don¡¯t look like kobald tunnels.¡± Merrick, while jogging alongside him, replied, ¡°This section isn¡¯t a kobald tunnel. We¡¯re cutting over to another one in a bit. If you look up at the ceiling you can tell.¡± And Nero could in fact ¡®tell¡¯, as there were essence lights occasionally still working made that abundantly clear to anyone who bothered looking up. But that hadn¡¯t been what he had been getting at. Instead, he was curious why there was so much dirt, grime, and general gunk all over the floor they were running across. ¡°Yeah, I kinda already guessed that much. I¡¯m just wondering why this tunnel is so much different than the ones we¡¯d seen back on the lower floors,¡± Nero asked. ¡°Ah, I understand, my lord. Those floors had already been gone through by teams removing the kobald¡¯s influence. The sweeper teams went room to room removing anything that the kobalds had left behind and scoured the floors with magic to return them to order. Although the areas were still technically under kobald control, they were prepped for us to take over,¡± Merrick explained in broken speech while trying and failing to keep his voice level while keeping up his pace. Nero, latching on to the term ¡®influence¡¯ asked, ¡°When you say influence, do you mean anything more than just the crap on the floor that they left behind? Like, had they imbued it with their ¡®kobaldliness¡¯ or something?¡± Despite them both having tried to keep their voices relatively quiet, multiple people must have been listening in because Nero heard a wave of laughter erupting all around him. Merrick, sounding somewhat amused replied, ¡°In a way, my lord. The sweeper teams were led by soldiers but they no doubt had a few mages with them. If you look at the essence flows in the area, you¡¯ll understand.¡± Nero, figuring that he might as well just humor the man did just that, and then immediately understood what Merrick had been talking about. The essence flows where they were felt ¡®tainted¡¯... for lack of a better word. It was just like when he¡¯d been near an essence disturbance. While the essence flows were mostly the same as they always were, there was just something ¡®off¡¯ about them. In many ways, what he was feeling now was worse than what he¡¯d experienced in the wilds. Instead of feeling like the essence was warped, or twisted, it was like the essence was foreign. He felt like an invader. This wasn¡¯t a place where he should be. Frowning in thought, Nero wondered if this was anything like a zone of control for the kobalds which they were skipping past without taking over. The kobalds had been here for a long time, and their presence likely imprinted itself on the local flows, making this kobald territory in the eyes of the world. Nero had to wonder how the mages that ¡®recovered¡¯ the areas that had been under the kobald¡¯s control had done it. It was probably something similar to enchanting or imbuing. Yet Nero had no idea how to begin to go about something like that. Up until now, he¡¯d mainly focused on combat magics. Sure, he¡¯d dabbled with scrying and some other stuff like that. But, even when he¡¯d been sleep delving he hadn¡¯t really had any idea what he had been doing. ¡°So, we don¡¯t have to do any of that if we¡¯re not going to be taking over the area?¡± Nero asked. Merrick replied quickly, ¡°No, my lord. This is essentially a raid. We¡¯re going in, stopping them from opening the portal, then leaving¡­ I think. Honestly, I¡¯m not really sure what our exit strategy is.¡± Nero chuckled for a moment before noticing that Merrick suddenly looked a whole lot less calm about what they were doing. All around him, he could feel the other soldiers¡¯ essence fields becoming a little less enthusiastic and uniform as well. Not wanting to be responsible for ruining the cohesive vibe they all had going on, Nero replied, ¡°Don¡¯t worry about it. I¡¯m sure Cath¡­ I mean Battle Leader Averett has it all figured out. Worst case scenario, we just kill all the kobalds and wait around for those sweeper-mages to show up and clean up the mess after we¡¯re done. Besides, as long as we¡¯re the only ones left standing, then who ¡®owns¡¯ the place doesn¡¯t really matter, now does it?¡± Nero could feel that his point was well received, as everyone once again felt like a solid field of essence pointed forward down the tunnel toward their enemy. ¡°I suppose that¡¯s one way to look at it, my lord,¡± Merrick replied before going silent in thought. Not wanting to inadvertently chip away at their confidence any more than he already had, Nero decided to shut up as well and focus on something else. While the gunk and whatnot under his feet were somewhat interesting, and the odd essence flows that metaphysically reeked of kobalds were worth some attention, he instead chose to focus on his link with the Battle Hub to check in with how the overall plan was going. He¡¯d known that the upper city was huge, and it would take them a while to get where they were ultimately heading, but he also knew that the team he was with wasn¡¯t going to be the first ones attacking. So, he wasn¡¯t surprised when the moment he joined the command channel he began hearing shouted updates on what was happening with the currently fighting assault force. While having access to all the command channels was cool, Nero tried to focus on the one that dealt with the force his team had joined. Surprisingly, or not, it was being led by Knight Angleton. Nero took a quick moment to check in with some of the pings he¡¯d left on his Thought Hub account to look up the man¡¯s name. ¡®Harold? Seriously? The dude does NOT look like a Harry. His parents should have named him Duke, or Axel or something,¡¯ Nero thought to himself before closing out the roster Cathleen had sent him and returning his attention to the command channel. Listening in on what they were saying was surprisingly boring. While in the background the feed from the assault force updates continued unabated, Harry was constantly requesting his own updates from the scouting teams that were paving the way for the rest of them. Nero would hear someone report a kobald patrol, and then Harry would reply with his acknowledgment before ordering someone to alter their path up the tunnels. This process repeated itself for what felt like forever. The entire time, Nero and the rest of the Wackos around him continued forward, occasionally taking different tunnels as they unerringly made their way further up the mountain city. Some tunnels were like the regular ones he¡¯d gotten used to, ten or twenty feet wide and obviously human-made. Others were kobald tunnels with steeper inclines that were both dark and much tighter on the sides. It wasn¡¯t what anyone would call a comfortable or consistent trip. Over and over again, he¡¯d find himself in a tunnel with plenty of room to spread out only for the one right after it requiring him to squish himself between Merrick and the Wacko on his left, making him feel like he was a hairs-breath away from tripping over himself like a drunk asshole waiting in line at the bathroom. But no matter how far they traveled, there was never any combat or anything to make the trip remotely interesting. There wasn¡¯t even anything worthwhile to see as every room they passed was wrecked, and every tunnel they used was filled with the stench of kobald. Nero was forced to just keep jogging and trust that eventually, they¡¯d get to do something productive before time ran out on their mission. He didn¡¯t want to be sent to another plane of existence. He sort of liked this one. It was weird and filled with people and concepts that made his head spin, but he¡¯d sort of gotten used to it. Granted, killing an entire plane of kobalds would be fun, but the idea of killing them on their home turf felt different than wiping them out when they were the ones invading. Nero did not like the idea of having to be an insurgent. Shrugging off the errant thought, Nero told himself that it wouldn¡¯t matter as he had no intention of letting the damned portal connection anchor thing open. He and his Wackos would stop it¡­ and that would be that. Another successful adventure in the books for him, and the first of many for the Wacko¡¯s of House Walker to come. ¡®I just didn¡¯t realize that the frickin¡¯ thing was so far away,¡¯ he thought to himself before pepping up at the sound of Harry¡¯s voice coming through over the command channel for the group he was with. ¡°All right people, prepare for combat. We¡¯re approaching the central corridor for this level and we¡¯ll be running into the enemy soon. Remember, our goal is not to engage in prolonged combat, we¡¯re to rush the exit as soon as possible and move on to our goal. Stay in formation and follow the soldier¡­ or Wacko¡­ in front of you. Mages, keep our shields up. Keep your footing, and don¡¯t get left behind!¡± he shouted, sounding every inch the badass he was. Nero, however, couldn¡¯t help but chuckle to himself. Something about knowing the guy''s first name was Harold just undercut the seriousness of the moment for him. The thought of being led into battle by ¡®Captain Harold Angleton¡¯ the hairiest knight in all of Dorchester was enough to send his meme-brain into overdrive. By the time the mages had the shield overhead up and running, Nero had already mentally created multiple t-shirt ideas and catchphrases for the ¡®Hairy Knight of Oglivarch¡¯. Luckily, his mental hijinks were interrupted by the sounds slowly getting louder from the tunnel in front of them. Despite how far away they were, he could already tell that they were heading into a meat grinder. It was oddly invigorating to feel the combat getting closer with every second. The essence in the ether was humming right along with the essence fields around him, the overwhelming sense of anticipation was rising to a crescendo as they got closer and closer. Like the roaring sound of a rock concert slamming into him, Nero felt it as much as he heard it when he and the rest of the Wackos around him shot out of the tunnel they were using. If it weren¡¯t for his perception field, he¡¯d have no idea what was going on. Luckily, with his improved range, he was able to witness ¡®Harry the Hammer¡¯ slam into the kobald defenses like a freight train. The kobalds had set up walls of stone ten feet high right in front of the tunnel exit, having attempted to make something like a kill box for anyone coming out of it. Unfortunately for them, they¡¯d been too focused on the fighting going on across the massive chamber and hadn¡¯t been paying close enough attention. Those few kobalds who had noticed their arrival hadn¡¯t been able to do much more than scream and hiss their warnings before ¡®Knight Harry son of Furball¡¯ arrived like the judgment of Catnip and wrecked their shit like an unhousebroken kitten lacking a scratching post. In no time at all, the front of their formation was through the wall and making their way through the kobald encampment. Meanwhile, Merrick and the other mages were maintaining their shield on the off chance some shaman or other enemy caster managed to notice them. As he watched it all happen, Nero grinned like an idiot and began mentally preparing himself to do as much damage as possible on his way through the enemy¡¯s territory. ¡®They¡¯ll remember the day Knight Harry and his Harriets paid them a visit,¡¯ Nero promised himself with a dark chuckle. Pausing for a moment, Nero took mental stock of himself to see if he was being affected by the excitement and fervor in the ether. Were his various mental depictions of Harry a result of his being influenced? Nope, he decided. He¡¯d always found comfort in cutting down larger-than-life people within the safe and protected confines of his own psyche. Finding out that an intimidating man like Knight Angleton was named ¡®Harry¡¯ was always going to end up with Nero privately mocking him to ruin. That was just who he was¡­ and he was OK with that. While letting part of his mind ruminate on the imaginary heraldry of the great Lord Harry of House Angleton, Nero began condensing some essence and anchoring some spell forms so he could rain down terror on the poor kobalds that were unlucky enough to be in range as he and his Wackos ran by. Chapter 262 - Mood ruining reality. Every skill, ability, and talent has its place in the theatre of war. Eventually, everyone learns that life itself is nothing more than a tapestry of combat. To walk your path is to fight against the things that wish to halt you, and your only tools to survive are those that you¡¯ve taken the time to train. Cathleen Averrett knew this. Unfortunately, she also knew that limitations couldn¡¯t be ignored, no matter how hard one struggled. As such, she¡¯d been forced to cede command of their assault force to Knight Angleton. With how much attention the rest of their forces required, she simply wasn¡¯t able to pay enough attention to her surroundings to effectively lead their troops. So, while she focused on the overall attack, he¡¯d manage the Wackos along with the few soldiers that had tagged along with them. Splitting her mind to accomplish multiple attention streams had been part of her training, but not something she¡¯d put enough effort toward mastering. In the future, if she wanted to be an effective Battle Leader, she¡¯d have to remedy that. Running through the tunnels behind alongside the Wackos, she took a moment to observe how everyone was holding up. Even at a glance, she could tell that the Wackos were excited and filled with confidence. The ether made that clear as crystal through her senses. She could feel that Knight Angleton¡¯s calm presence over the command channel had them all focused and attentive to the mission at hand. Their pace was good, and no one seemed to be lagging behind. Even the healers in the back were managing to keep up. ¡®It won¡¯t be long now,¡¯ she thought to herself as she returned her attention to the 5 assault force command channels she was monitoring along with the private channel just for the commanders. Due to their plan only needing the army to distract and contain the enemy, more commanders had agreed to participate than she¡¯d expected. While they hadn¡¯t been willing to waste the lives of their soldiers on a doomed assault, they were willing to engage with the kobalds and cycle their troops indefinitely. She understood their position, and she respected it. It was one thing to fight a battle where their forces were able to be recovered through healing and careful resource management, while it was quite another to purposefully cut themselves off from reinforcement and rely only on hope not to be overwhelmed. ¡®It¡¯s fine. As long as they keep the encampments busy, we¡¯ll be able to get the the former throne room without issue,¡¯ she reassured herself. Through the command channels, she was monitoring the engagements that had already begun. The troops from F.O.B. 3 had successfully pushed their way into their targeted chamber and were whittling down the enemy. While the likelihood of them breaking through was low, the plan didn¡¯t require them to. All they needed to do was force the kobalds to focus on the main tunnel system F.O.B. 3¡¯s forces were using for the attack. The Wackos would be arriving through a much smaller side tunnel. One completely disconnected from the one F.O.B. 3¡¯s troops were using. If everything went well, the enemy would never expect them. After all, the F.O.B. they were coming from wasn¡¯t anywhere near here. The only thing that made this plan possible was the combination of numerous unlikely factors. One, the engineers had been able to link the Battle Hub to the severely outdated relay systems in the city allowing everyone to stay connected. Two, the mages had finally figured out how to penetrate the kobald¡¯s illusion techniques, allowing them to map the tunnel systems and giving the scouts an opportunity to plot their course. And finally three, Lord Walker¡¯s encouragement which gave them all the excuse to act. Even if they had wanted to, command had no way to convince troops to risk their likely death against such a slim chance of success. Not that they would have tried, as that would accomplish nothing more than a waste of resources they could ultimately use in the future battles to come. But, if Lord Walker and his house¡¯s forces were going to try anyway? Why not aid them if the costs were this reasonable? Through her link, she could see that the assault force she was with was almost at the chamber. While not anywhere close by, she could still see the fighting going on through the feed she was receiving from F.O.B. 3¡¯s commander. They were taking heavy casualties, but the healers were handling it and no permanent deaths had occurred as of yet. Gritting her teeth at the number of kobalds waiting for them, she couldn¡¯t help but wonder how they would get back through them to safety on the off chance that this plan of hers ended up actually succeeding. While having an exit strategy was the first rule of warfare, circumstances hadn¡¯t allowed for one. ¡®We¡¯ll just have to overcome that obstacle when we get there,¡¯ she thought to herself with a frown. ¡ª-- Even knowing that he wouldn¡¯t be able to use his sticky flamethrower spell, Nero had plenty of other options for the mass destruction of the enemy. His acid balls and personal spell-shell launcher had become second nature to him by now, and they would be more than enough to decimate the individually weak scaly little murder machines. However, the problem was that there were too many damned friendlies around him. He couldn¡¯t just start flinging area of effect spells around hoping that his fellow human¡¯s essence fields could handle them¡­ despite how much he wanted to chance it. Audibly growling in annoyance, Nero jogged along with the rest of the Wackos as they pushed through the kobald encampment. With how quickly they were moving, he was forced time and time again to pay attention to his footing. The kobald bodies and miscellaneous gear were strewn about all over the place, and if it weren¡¯t for his perception field he¡¯d have had no idea what was going on outside of the one-foot radius he could physically put eyes on. Considering his less-than-impressive physical height, looking anywhere other than the ground in front of him was pointless. The wackos ahead of him were all tall enough to block his view, and the mages to his left and right weren¡¯t any shorter. Through his perception field, he was able at least able to track how the edges of the formation were doing. Which was ¡®well enough¡¯, by any definition of the word. Even with the kobalds packed together like sardines in the encampment, the Wackos were rolling over them like the tide destroying a child''s poorly built sandcastle. It was honestly kind of sad. The kobalds had bet everything on their exterior defenses, and now that the enemy was inside their gates, they were getting absolutely wrecked. Ironically, the one major obstacle stopping Nero from contributing to the massacre was also the only thing keeping them all alive. That was the mage shield over their heads. A little fewer than a third of their number had been tasked with maintaining their shield, some of whom weren¡¯t even primarily mages. But seeing how much spell-fire was raining down on them from the kobald shamans and casters, Nero couldn¡¯t argue with the results. Even with how loud the sounds of screaming, hissing, slashing, and stabbing were, the roar of exploding fireballs and who knew what else hitting their shields drowned it all out. The prolonged spell fire colored the entire area over their heads crimson and bathed everything around him in red. Had Nero¡¯s sense of sight been limited to his eyes, he¡¯d probably be panicking by now. But, it wasn¡¯t, so he wasn¡¯t. Instead, he was forced to just huddle together with the rest of the troops as the entire formation rushed through the encampment in a rapidly progressing circular crowd of death and destruction toward their destination at the end of the chamber. Considering the size of the kobald encampment, the plan was for them to avoid the majority of the enemy by simply skirting across the edge of their defenses. While there were still thousands of kobalds to deal with, most of them probably weren¡¯t even aware the Wackos had made it through one of their walls. That didn¡¯t mean the Wackos weren¡¯t taking casualties, because they were. Nero could see them¡­ all of them. His perception field allowed him to witness one after another as the prolonged running combat took its toll on their assault force. One after another, a human body was pulled back from the fighting line and carried by someone closer to the middle. He could see the healers working their asses off to keep whoever they could still fighting. Stuck in the middle with the shield mages, Nero felt more and more stifled as there was nothing he could do to contribute. Balling his fists by his side, he maintained his hold on the spell forms he¡¯d attached to his Mage Armor waiting for an opportunity, any an opportunity to do ANYTHING. He¡¯d wanted to be part of the fighting, but he¡¯d been assigned his position and hadn¡¯t argued against it. Now, even if he wanted to disobey his orders and get over to the fighting line, he couldn¡¯t. He and the rest of the Wackos were simply too packed together to allow him to slip through. ¡®I swear to all that is holy that when we get to the damn tunnel I¡¯m going to leave them a present they will spend the rest of their worthless lives having nightmares about,¡¯ he promised himself as he watched another dead body being thrown over someone¡¯s shoulder to hopefully brought back before it was too late. Seconds turned into minutes as the formation raced through the encampment. Over the command channel, Knight Angelton¡¯s voice remained calm and steady as he encouraged them every step of the way. All the while, more and more fighters were being dragged away from the fighting for healing. Nero could see that the healers were struggling. They fought their own little war to keep the people in melee alive as they didn¡¯t look like they were able to resuscitate anyone at a run. Even looking at how they were healing, Nero could tell most of them were limited to physical contact to cast their healing spells. While knowing that ranged healing was possible, he couldn¡¯t fault them for not knowing how to do it. Hell, he¡¯d read about it extensively and still hadn¡¯t been able to pull it off.If you encounter this tale on Amazon, note that it''s taken without the author''s consent. Report it. Of course, he also hadn¡¯t had a lot of opportunities to practice, but that was on him. Realistically, He¡¯d had plenty of opportunities, he¡¯d just never taken advantage of them. Most of his skill with healing spells had been from repairing his own body during training. The fact that it worked for others was just a happy coincidence. Given that he was thirty or forty feet away from the closest edge of the fighting, he knew for a fact that there was nothing he could do at the moment. Like a light at the end of a tunnel, Nero saw their destination appear on the edge of his perception field. Instead of a small tunnel like the one they¡¯d arrived through, the one they were heading toward was wide enough for multiple wagons to pass through and tall enough that a double-decker bus would have no problem making it through. Seeing as the kobalds didn¡¯t expect anyone to attack from this side of the chamber, there was no wall in place to stop them. Nero had to admit that the fact that they had been able to scry the place thoroughly had made all the difference in their success. He¡¯d known from movies and books that intelligence on the enemy was a primary factor in any battle plan, but seeing it in action was somewhat different than he¡¯d expected. This entire plan had been thought up and executed in less than an hour, and it had only been possible because Cathleen and the commanders knew what they were getting into. Seeing how many people were being carried, and how many were fighting hurt, Nero was both impressed that they were pulling it off while also feeling somewhat uncomfortable with the fact that he¡¯d thought it was going to be easy. He¡¯d expected a glorious assault, not a meticulously planned fight that stacked their slight advantages while exploiting the enemy¡¯s strategically determined weaknesses. The moment the front of the formation arrived at the tunnel, Nero could see Knight Angelton and the more elite fighters spreading out to defend the entrance. The whole thing looked like a practiced flash mob taking their places in a crowd before shit went down. The coordination in play was on another level. While a majority of the troops pushed through to make sure the tunnel was clear, a ring protecting the entrance began to take form. In no time at all, Nero entered the tunnel alongside Merrick and the other mages. Luckily, the plan called for the mages to stay near the entrance and shift their shield to protect it. That allowed Nero to take advantage of the maneuvering troops to stay near the entrance himself. Soon enough, the last of the troops would be though and he¡¯d be able to finally unleash hell on the vicious little bastards nipping at their heels. Yet, he found himself frowning at the sight of the healers struggling to resuscitate the multiple dead bodies that were being carefully laid out along the side of the tunnel. There must have been 50 or 60 of them. There simply weren¡¯t enough healers to handle them all, not with the people who still needed healing and the continued fighting happening at the entrance. Over the command channel, he could hear Knight Angelton¡¯s firm presence shouting, ¡°Get whoever you can up and ready. We won¡¯t be holding this position long. It will be a fighting retreat until we get to the throne room. We¡¯ll need every able body to make it there before the portal opens!¡± Nero, standing next to the mages as they shaped their shield to cover the upper edges of the entrance, growled in annoyance at the sight of the kobalds spread out in front of the melee fighters. He could see Knight Angelton and the 60 or 70 odd Wackos holding back the tide of scaly madness while piling up bodies under their feet. He felt a burning need to join them. The soul stuff in the ether was dense enough that could make some truly destructive spells that would surely make a difference. It wouldn¡¯t even be that hard. The shield gave him a good two to three feet of height above the melee line to send out his spells. He could light the entire place on fire with sticky flames that would effectively cut off the kobald¡¯s assault. All of these thoughts raced through his head in seconds, his perception of time having seemed to slow down to allow for his decision. Muttering swears at the universe for always being a good-time-ruining dick, Nero stomped over toward the healers. Approaching a healer who was panting in exhaustion and looking pale, Nero said, ¡°All right, I need you to point me to whoever¡¯s been dead the longest. Let¡¯s get these poor bastards back in the fight.¡± The healer looked over at Nero in confusion, before his sense of recognition caught up with him. ¡°Of course, my lord. But¡­ um, we don¡¯t have them arranged in any particular order. We¡¯re just trying to resuscitate whoever we can. If you¡¯re willing to help, you can start with any of them. Although, the ones over there on the left have already been deemed to have suffered soul death.¡± Nero had learned that he seemed a bit better at resuscitation spells than the average healer so he wouldn¡¯t be taking the healer at their word. His talent was something he chalked up to his weird soul or maybe his messed-up stats. But either way, he refused to have these dead assholes on his conscience. This whole dumb-ass plan may have been his idea, but it was supposed to be an adventure¡­ not this. The dedicated planning, the coordination of multiple forces all attacking their assignments, and the losses. It was all too ¡®real¡¯. When he¡¯d been fighting above ground, he hadn¡¯t had the perspective he did now. With access to the command channel and his improved perception field, he was forced to see the bigger picture. He couldn¡¯t just focus on his own little world of combat and let everyone else handle the other stuff. What was going to do, just go start killing kobalds while these poor bastards who¡¯d agreed to follow him into battle lay there dead¡­ their souls slowly departing their bodies? Stomping over to the bodies that had been deemed too long dead to bring back, Nero cracked his neck and got to work. Sadly, he could see that the bodies had been stacked on top of one another like piles of logs. Each one of them suffering from mutilations of varying degrees. One or two he could see were missing limbs, while all of them had gashes and cuts that were covered in drying blood. It was quite literally a ghastly sight that churned his stomach. Not wasting time, Nero pulled the first body off the top of the pile and dropped it gently onto the ground. His hard work and improved body stats made him stronger than he should be, but he¡¯d not yet reached superhuman levels that made things like this effortless. Sighing at the sight of the woman¡¯s terror-filled eyes, Nero reached down to close them like they did in the movies. He really didn¡¯t want her dead body staring at him while he did this. The moment he felt her eyelids close, he whipped his hand away and shook it like he¡¯d just accidentally touched something gross. After wiping his hand on his pants, he firmed his resolve and pressed his hands against her waist. He could feel the cold metal studs from her armor under her blood-covered tabard. While it wasn¡¯t skin contact, it was close enough not to matter for what he needed to do. There was plenty of soul power in the ether at the moment, so at least he wouldn¡¯t have to focus too hard on efficiency. The first thing he had to do was repair her body. Dragging her soul back would be pointless if it was just going to die again. His healing spell shunted part of his mind into her flesh and blood. He could see each and every bit of damage that had killed her. She¡¯d obviously put up one hell of a fight. There were multiple claw marks all over her legs which had shredded her armor, and several cracks ribs which her gambedson hadn¡¯t protected her from, but what had ultimately killed her was the artery that was shredded in her arm. Nero could tell that someone had tried to heal it but hadn¡¯t made it in time. The flesh around the wound had been mostly closed, but that hadn¡¯t stopped the blood from filling the surrounding tissue like an ugly whole-arm bruise. She must have realized she was dying, which would explain the expression on her face. One after another, he closed the worst of the wounds. He didn¡¯t have time to fix everything, as the mental weight of the remaining bodies metaphorically pressed down on him. All he needed to do was get her alive and he could deal with the rest of it later¡­ or better yet, some other healer would. Nero felt his mage armor dissipating as his mental focus turned all of its attention to what he was doing. He didn¡¯t even bother to recover the center from the spell-forms he¡¯d been pointlessly maintaining. Next, he closed the connection to his link, as Knight Angelton¡¯s bitching about hurrying up was becoming a distraction. Finally ready, he cast the resuscitation spell and mentally dove into her soul space. He could feel the emptiness clawing at his mind like the remnants of a bad dream. Almost immediately, he located the soul tether which connected her body to her soul. The damned thing was practically non-existent. It was so thin that he could only liken it to dental floss. If the other bodies were this bad, he wasn¡¯t sure if he would be able to save them. Putting that cheery thought aside for the moment, he focused on bringing this one soldier back from the other side. With the resuscitation spell, he could empower the soul link and drag her soul back to where it belonged. She would NOT be dying today. While part of his mind was focusing on collecting and imprinting his identity onto the soul stuff from the ether, he channeled as much of his center into the spell as he could. In her soul space, it was like a flood of HIM reaching out to infuse the tether with strength. While externally, his expression remained blank, inside, he was grinning like an idiot. Despite how much he¡¯d rather be out on the front lines playing the part of a badass war mage, he couldn¡¯t deny that this type of magic was still cool as hell. He felt it the moment the tether shifted. Instead of pulling away, her soul began tumbling back to her body like it had been yanked by its collar. In less than a second, she slammed back into her soul space. For a moment, Nero could see the shock on its glowing face. She looked somewhat like an androgynous spirit with flowing motes of light standing in for her clothes, while also at the same time resembling a night light in the darkness. Luckily, either due to her own soul¡¯s presence or simply the nature of the spell form he still didn¡¯t fully understand, Nero was promptly kicked out to find himself back in his own body. Gasping awake, she began shivering in shock at what had happened. Her fingers clutched at Nero¡¯s robe like he was her last chance at getting backstage at a Beiber concert. While she was mumbling incoherently, Nero patted her shoulder and tried to explain, ¡°It¡¯s OK now, you¡¯re fine. You did great, and we made it to the tunnel. Take your time getting your bearings. I have more people to see to, so just sit tight and someone will be with you shortly.¡± Ignoring her mumbling thank you¡¯s and requests for more information, Nero gently disengaged her hands by her wrists with a smile. Turning away, he huffed to himself, thinking about all the annoying customers back at the store he¡¯d used to work at. Some people just needed you to know that they appreciated your help. While it was nice and all, it was also kind of annoying. But, he couldn¡¯t exactly tell her that he was just doing his job, now could he? Sighing at the dozen or so bodies that were stacked up like refuse, Nero gritted his teeth and returned to what he was doing. Hopefully, he¡¯d have enough time to save them all and still get a chance to unleash some spine-chilling death by firestorm on those cloned iguanas from hell. While saving people was nice and all, that¡¯s not what he¡¯d come down here for. ¡®Just remember, by stopping the stupid portal, you¡¯re avoiding spending years of your life stuck in some red skied hellscape filled with asshole kobalds that want to eat you. Eyes on the prize big guy,¡¯ he reminded himself. Dragging the next body off the top of the pile, Nero grimaced at the sight of the man¡¯s half-eaten face. He supposed that was the downside of having superpowers. Being hard to kill made it hurt like hell when someone did finally manage to kill you. Chapter 263 - Winning doesnt mean not losing. Reluctantly, Knight Harold Angleton released his connection to the command channel monitoring the other assault forces. Even with his years of training, maintaining so many connections during combat was straining his center. He would have to limit himself only to the connections to the troops he was leading. ¡®The other assault forces are doing their job, and I just have to focus on mine. Battle Leader Averrett will let me know if there¡¯s something I should be made aware of,¡¯ he reminded himself. Noticing another section of their formation buckling, he reached out with his ability to create a series of curved shields to slow down the kobalds. While it wouldn¡¯t stop them, it would buy the team leaders time to swap out their troops for uninjured fighters. With a flex of his center, he swept a five-foot wide horizontal shield in front of him, decapitating multiple kobalds and injuring several more. He could feel his mind struggling to monitor everything behind him causing his attention to falter. Gritting his teeth in annoyance at the feelings of exhaustion coming off the area with the healers, he had no choice but to push on. Attempting to project confidence and control over the assault force''s command channel, he shouted, ¡°Keep pushing! We¡¯re almost there!¡± Switching his attention to the command channel just for the team leaders, he added, ¡°When we arrive at the tunnel, we¡¯re not going to have time for anything fancy. Just spread out and form a battle line. We need to get control of the entrance quickly or we¡¯ll be overrun.¡± In response, he heard one of the scouts with the best long-range perception, Erikson, shout, ¡°30 units, sir. But we have a team of larger kobalds and shamans inbound. They¡¯ll be arriving on our right flank around the time we¡¯ll get there.¡± While reaching out and exploding a kobald¡¯s head with a backhand, Knight Angleton replied, ¡°Understood. I¡¯ll hold the middle myself. Blackwood, take Davis and Richardson to reinforce that side of the defensive line.¡± After receiving their confirmations, he returned his focus to the fighting. He could feel his center reserves dropping as he struggled to maintain his iron will. Even though they¡¯d only been in combat for twenty or thirty minutes, he¡¯d rarely in his life been pushed this hard. Every moment from the time he¡¯d broken through the kobald¡¯s outer wall, he¡¯d been forced to use his ability and expanded senses to keep his troops alive and moving forward, all while physically having to lead the charge. As he kicked a wounded kobald hard enough to launch it back into the swarm like a missile, shattering its chest and turning it into a ranged bludgeoning weapon, he recited the catechism of intent to reaffirm his identity and recover his center. Despite no longer being in the army, he was still a knight, and now more than ever he knew who he was. Flickering his attention over the heads of the swarm, he saw the entrance they were heading for appear. They were almost there, just a little further and they¡¯d be able to establish a solid defensive position and buy a little time for the healers to get a few of the people who¡¯d fallen resuscitated and back in the fight. Hopefully, the kobalds would lose interest when the formation was no longer in the middle of their encampment. Shouting out his orders between the multiple command channels for the assault force, he quickly arranged the defensive combat line. He was happy to see the melee fighters spreading out and covering each other as if they¡¯d been training together for years. Flexing his ability, he created a corridor for the rest of the formation to run through while the new static combat line was established. He gritted his teeth at the sight of so many bodies being carried by injured troops dragging themselves in a sad mockery of a run. Battle Leader Averrett called out over the team leader command channel, ¡°I¡¯ll take care of clearing the tunnel with Keening and Harring¡¯s teams.¡± Replying quickly, he said, ¡°Understood. Let me know if there are any surprises we need to worry about.¡± Trusting that she had it handled, he focused on keeping the combat line in place. While he continued to cut down kobalds one after another, he reached out with his senses to keep aware of what was happening across the entrance. No longer having to watch over the entire formation allowed him the freedom to take a much more active role in the defenses. His shields became much easier to place, and he could see the troops being more judicial with their abilities in turn. Shouting his orders calmly, he was satisfied to see the line holding strong. Already the kobalds were somewhat calming down, happy to keep them where they were, their furor at seeing them in the middle of their encampment sputtering out. They were by no means letting them be, but their tenacity and desire to see them all dead at the cost of their own lives was slightly diminished. Time passed and he watched more and more troops swapping out with fresh soldiers returning from their healing. He knew they couldn¡¯t stay here indefinitely, but he hadn¡¯t heard the all-clear from the healers, so he assumed they were still working on resuscitating the dead. ¡®What in the damned hells is taking so long?¡¯ he wondered. Right as he was about to turn his senses toward the tunnel behind him to get a better idea of what was happening, he heard Vickas, the head of the healer contingent, call out over the command channel, ¡°Sir, everyone who could be resuscitated has been, and we¡¯re ready to move out on your order if its absolutely necessary.¡± Curious as to why the woman¡¯s presence felt so satisfied but not having the time to find out, he instead began ordering the battle line to slowly retreat into the tunnel. Step by step, the line condensed, allowing more and more troops to fall back. He watched as the shield the mages were maintaining over their head shrank to only cover the upper areas of the entrance until it was finally released when they were all inside. With a grim nod at the successful maneuver, he ordered Blackwood to take control of the battle line. He needed to take a moment to confer with the scouts, Battle Leader Averrett, and the healers. Also to regrettably take stock of their losses. Turning away from the sounds of the fighting, he sighed in relief at the sight of so many troops having made it. He ran his senses over them group by group, quickly finding that they were in much better spirits than he expected them to be. ¡®Where are the bodies of the troops they hadn¡¯t been able to resuscitate?¡¯ he wondered. Not ten feet from the battle line, his approach was cut off by Healer Vickas running up to him. ¡°Sir, Lord Walker was able to save everyone. No casualties to report aside from the few bodies we were unable to recover and therefore left behind,¡± she declared proudly while glancing over Knight Angleton¡¯s shoulder at the troops who were still fighting. ¡°While we can move out right now, I¡¯d recommend giving our healers some time to recover¡­ not to mention Lord Walker. He pushed his center further than he should have and needs some time to recover.¡± Mentally trying to catch up with the implications of what Vickas was saying, Knight Angleton replied somewhat awkwardly, ¡°None? But some of those people died early in the fighting, didn¡¯t they? That was nearly 40 minutes ago¡­ how is that possible?¡± Before he could listen to Vickas¡¯ response, his attention was drawn to the side of the tunnel which was currently filled with excited people hovering around the young lord trying to get him to eat something or forcibly offering him a drink from their canteens. While Vickas rambled on about soul resonance and intent, sounding more like a petitioner from the religious district than the researcher he knew she was, he remained focused on how exhausted Lord Walker looked. Knight Angleton could see that the young man had plopped himself down on that wooden stump he always seemed to carry around with him, right there in the middle of the tunnel. Lord Walker had obviously been bleeding from his eyes and ears, the clearest sign of center over-use he¡¯d ever seen. The fact that he was still awake and ambulatory was enough to impress even him. Anyone pushing themselves that far past their limits should be passed out by now.If you come across this story on Amazon, be aware that it has been stolen from Royal Road. Please report it. Waving off any more of Vickas¡¯ yammering, he strode toward Lord Walker to find out for himself what had happened. While they needed to get moving, he¡¯d been monitoring the battle line and knew that they could afford a few minutes. ¡ª-- Nero¡¯s head was pounding, and his thoughts felt like they were more than a little fuzzy. He recognized the symptoms, he¡¯d stressed his center past its limits. The last time he¡¯d done this to himself, he¡¯d nearly died. Taking a moment to check his center levels in his identity, he could see that he was still at 100%. Most if not all of what he¡¯d used to bring everyone back was filtered soul stuff from the ether, so he¡¯d assumed that he would have no problems doing what he did. But, that didn¡¯t seem to be the case. There was obviously a limit to how much center a person could channel regardless of where it came from. His body hadn¡¯t been able to handle it, and now he was paying for it. ¡®It doesn¡¯t matter. I did it. They¡¯re alive. I didn¡¯t end up getting anyone killed. Nobody can give me shit for leading them to their deaths¡­ because I didn¡¯t,¡¯ he consoled himself. Sighing heavily, he took another deep drink from his canteen while ignoring everyone around him who was trying to have a word with him. His brain felt like it had gone through a mulcher, and he refused to spend the effort to listen to what they were saying. Most of what he picked up were variations of thank you¡¯s and vows of their eternal gratitude. There were even a few healers demanding how he¡¯d done it. He honestly didn¡¯t have the attention span to deal with any of them at the moment. He could still hear the fighting going on at the entrance to the tunnel, and he needed to get his shit together before good ¡®ole Knight Angleton ordered them to move out. So, he just nodded absently at what they were saying while focusing on his recovery. ¡°If you¡¯re capable of bothering Lord Walker, you¡¯re capable of fighting. Get your gear back in order and cycle out with the rear line. If you need time to recover your center, then focus on that. We don¡¯t have time for this right now,¡± Knight Angleton¡¯s voice cut through the chatter like a knife. Immediately, the group currently harassing Nero broke up. Surprised at the man¡¯s arrival, Nero silently thanked him before returning his attention to the cool water in the canteen he was gripping like a lifeline. Still seated on his stump, he felt his essence field release some of the tension it had been under by so many people focusing on him. He hadn¡¯t realized it, but there was something ¡®real¡¯ about the weight of people¡¯s attention that he¡¯d never noticed before. ¡®I always knew there had to be a reason public speaking sucked, and now I bet I could find some asshole who wrote a paper proving it,¡¯ he remarked to himself sarcastically. ¡°Are you injured, my lord?¡± Knight Angleton asked calmly while looming over Nero like a giant. Leaning back on his stump so he could look up at the man, Nero replied, ¡°Oh, Harry. I didn¡¯t see you there. You know for a giant armored nightmare, you¡¯re surprisingly easy to miss. It must be because your presence is so comforting¡­ not intimidating or emasculating in the least.¡± Nero couldn¡¯t stop himself from giving the man some shit. The guy was just too heroic. Even now, his very presence was enough to have Nero hating himself for how weak he was feeling. The man had been fighting and leading the charge since they¡¯d begun this insanity, and he still looked like he was ready to go another ten rounds with a dragon. He had the ¡®badass warrior covered in blood¡¯ look down pat. Knight Angleton didn¡¯t bother to engage with Nero¡¯s banter, only reiterating his question calmly. ¡°Are you in need of healing? I don¡¯t believe we have anyone with us who is capable of helping you recover your center, but we can at least have someone attempt to treat some of your symptoms.¡± Nero frowned up at the man, confused at what he was getting at. ¡°No, I¡¯m not injured. I didn¡¯t even get to do any fighting. I was in the middle of the formation with the mages the entire time. I¡¯m just a little wiped out from the healing. You don¡¯t need to worry about me, I¡¯m ready to go when you are. I know we¡¯re on the clock, and I won¡¯t be the one slowing us down.¡± Nodding in understanding, Knight Angleton replied, ¡°We can wait a few minutes for you to recover. The kobalds are happy to keep us here in the tunnel. But, I¡¯m sure they¡¯re already sending word up the tunnels letting them know that we¡¯d gotten past them. The faster we move, the less resistance we¡¯ll have to face going forward.¡± Gesturing over at the healers who were meditating along the wall, he added, ¡°If you don¡¯t need healing, then you should take a moment to condense your gains yourself. It will help you recover your center and heal your body¡¯s condition.¡± Nero glanced over at the numerous healers who were lined up along the wall sitting in the lotus position like monks. ¡°Yeah, probably. Just give me a sec. Bringing that many people back took a lot out of me. Who knew bringing that many people back from the dead would be that much of a pain in the ass?¡± he asked sarcastically. ¡°Once again, you¡¯ve done something most people would consider impossible,¡± Knight Angleton noted, his tone not expressing anything other than some slight amusement. After taking another heavy drink from his canteen, Nero grinned up at him and replied, ¡°Yeah, I¡¯m awesome like that. Nobody dies today. We¡¯re gonna go for a perfect run.¡± Nero knew he¡¯d cut the last few resuscitations close, as there had barely been any tether left to connect their souls to their bodies. If he hadn¡¯t been able to so clearly abuse his ability to interact with souls, he¡¯d likely not have been able to accomplish what he had. The spell he¡¯d been using clearly hadn¡¯t accounted for someone being able to manually aim it like he could. But he¡¯d had plenty of practice at this point, and aside from the spell form remaining the same, he¡¯d figured out how to alter it to his will¡­ more or less. Glancing up at Harry¡¯s face, Nero noticed the man¡¯s uncomfortable expression. Harry normally looked stoic to the point of resembling a statue, and the slight grimace on his face stood out sharply indicating something was wrong. ¡°What?¡± he asked wondering what the man was thinking. After seeming to take a second to gather his thoughts, Knight Angleton replied, ¡°You mentioned ¡®a perfect run¡¯. While I don¡¯t recognize the phrase, I believe I understand what you meant. You believe that your success here brought our losses to zero, correct?¡± Nero nodded while replying slowly, ¡°Yeah¡­ I brought everyone who died back. Everyone¡¯s still here. And I plan to make sure it stays that way. We¡¯re all gonna head back to Dorchester as heroes after saving the city from interdimensional land bandits. For Dorchester! And all that.¡± ¡°I¡¯m sorry to be the one to tell you this. But thirteen soldiers didn¡¯t make it. Their bodies weren¡¯t able to be recovered,¡± Knight Angleton reported woodenly, his tone sounding absolutely professional. Nero, stunned, forced himself to stand. Still looking up at Knight Angleton, he replied, ¡°What do you mean? I brought everyone back. We didn¡¯t lose anybody!¡± ¡°I¡¯m sorry, my lord. But, not everyone who fell was able to be recovered during the run through the encampment. Some of their bodies had to be left behind,¡± he replied quietly. Not knowing what to say, Nero stood there in silence. His brain was still feeling muddled, and he was having trouble accepting what Harry was telling him. Thirteen people died? He hadn¡¯t saved everyone? But, he¡¯d tried so hard. He¡¯d saved everyone he could. He¡¯d done the noble thing and stayed away from the fighting and played healer for the greater good. Seeing as Harry was staring at him, just waiting for him to break was enough for Nero to get a handle on himself. While he was still struggling to accept it, he was nothing if not adept at ignoring things he didn¡¯t want to think about. ¡°I understand. I¡¯m sure everyone did everything that they could. We¡¯ll just have to push on without them. Put the mission first and all that, right? That¡¯s what soldiers do,¡± he said as calmly as he could. Nodding in a silent understanding of what Nero was going through, Knight Angleton replied, ¡°Yes, my lord. That¡¯s what soldiers do.¡± With a flicker of his attention, Nero returned his stump to his personal space along with his canteen. ¡°I think I¡¯ll take a few minutes to meditate and deal with my body¡¯s status. I¡¯ll be ready to go with everyone else. I¡¯m sure you have more important things to be doing, so I won¡¯t take up any more of your time,¡± he said before turning away from the man. Nero could feel Knight Angleton watching him leave. Harry¡¯s presence stood out like a beacon in the ether even when Nero¡¯s perception field wasn¡¯t focusing on him. Finding a seat along the wall, Nero dropped down and leaned his head against the stone while awkwardly attempting to cross his legs. It was a sitting position he wasn¡¯t used to and therefore more than a little uncomfortable. Which, at the moment, suited himself just fine. He didn¡¯t feel like seeking comfort at the moment. He felt like he¡¯d been cheated. Obviously, he knew that there was a danger of people dying, he wasn¡¯t delusional. But, before now, that concept had been almost theoretical. Most of the battles he¡¯d been in up until now had been resounding victories where he hadn¡¯t lost anyone. Or at least not anyone who¡¯d been under his banner. Not anyone he¡¯d felt responsible for. He shouldn¡¯t be surprised. There was no reason to. He¡¯d known what he was getting into. He¡¯d known that not everyone would make it. So why was he feeling like this? Why was it hitting him so hard? Shaking his head at the conflicting emotions bouncing around in his head, Nero tried to be honest with himself. Whenever he felt this confused, he knew he needed to take a step back and think about things objectively. Feeling the essence fields of the healers and mages to his left and right radiating calm and self-control, Nero reminded himself that the world he was currently living in had real-world tools for this type of self-reflection. There was no need for any emotional struggle, he could just turn his attention inward and take a look at how he was feeling. Closing his eyes and sinking into his soul space, He was bombarded by the physical representation of the emotional storm he was currently suffering under. The normally idyllic forest and blue skies were nowhere to be seen. The sky overhead was instead filled with storm clouds and lightning, with rain coming down in sheets while brutal winds stripped the trees of their branches. Even the path under his feet was hidden under rivers of mud which were being carried by a flash flood. ¡°Well, this all looks awful,¡± he muttered to himself while noting the angry and distorted memories floating all around him. Each one daring him to take a closer look at them. Chapter 264 - "Healing begins with feeling," said the smug bastard. Nearly brushing the ceiling of the tunnel with her essence-enhanced leap, Cathleen came down in the middle of the kobald casters like the manifestation of the term ¡®death from above¡¯. A single swipe removed the heads of three shamans while she physically flattened another one under her feet. Already adjusting her grip for another attack, she smirked at the sound of the others starting their attack. Natalie and Mike were leading their teams into the front of the kobald¡¯s formation, providing her and the scouts the opportunity to take out the rest of the kobald¡¯s ranged support. Like shadows of death, they swept through the casters and shamans like a scythe reaping lives instead of wheat. And while the large group of kobalds could have trapped them, the distraction Natalie and Mike¡¯s forces provided turned out to be more than enough to allow them to get away cleanly. Back among the walls of the tunnel, she watched carefully as the remainder of the kobalds were put down systematically. This had been the third hastily arranged response force the kobalds had assembled, and it hadn¡¯t faired any better than the ones before. There had been no time for the kobalds to do much more than combine multiple scouting parties into larger groups and send them off to their deaths. Turning to the scout next to her, she said, ¡°When they¡¯re done here, tell them to regroup at the previous junction. I need to check in with the other assault forces.¡± Without waiting for a reply, she vanished down the tunnel at a run. She needed to get back into range of the relays. Even though she and the other commanders had expected it, it was still uncomfortable to be cut off from the Battle Hub. The relays the engineers had gotten working didn¡¯t cover the entire upper city. These sections still inhabited by kobalds were still unusable, and they didn¡¯t have the time or engineers to do anything about it at the moment. So, she¡¯d just have to make do. The moment she felt her link reengage with the Battle Hub, she reopened the command channels and requested an update. One after another, the assault force commanders checked in. She received their battle summaries and current status, each one reporting nothing but success. The plan was working¡­ so far. ¡°That¡¯s good to hear. We¡¯re going to need you to keep the kobalds engaged as long as you can. Don¡¯t overextend. Just stick to harassing them and keep their attention on you. Our force has made it beyond the cordon, and we¡¯ll hopefully make it to the throne room within the hour,¡± she said tersely. After receiving the confirmation that her orders had been acknowledged, she switched over to the command channel for Knight Angelton and the rest of their assault force. ¡°The main tunnel system has been cleared. Minimal response from the kobalds so far. They didn¡¯t seem to plan on anyone getting past their encampments. How are the rearguard and the rest of the troops holding up?¡± she asked. Knight Angelton¡¯s presence over the command channel was just as imposing as ever, showing no signs that anything was wrong. ¡°Well enough for now. The kobalds most likely have been ordered to stop anyone from getting into their encampment and seem happy enough to keep us in our tunnel. I don¡¯t believe it¡¯s occurred to them that we¡¯re currently on the wrong side of what they were ordered to defend. As long as we don¡¯t try and force our way back through, I think we¡¯ll be fine.¡± Nodding to herself, Cathleen looked around the barely lit tunnel. It was wide enough to allow multiple carts of supplies along with a stream of people and was one of the three main thoroughfares through the upper city. In most respects, it has held up well through the years. However, the failed essence lighting and detritus filling the floor made it look less than accommodating for travel. ¡°We¡¯ve confirmed that you¡¯ll be able to take the planned route. I¡¯m not sure how many more kobald scouting teams are around, but I think we¡¯ve cleared out most of them. How long until you¡¯re on the move?¡± she asked. ¡°Not long. The¡­ healers¡­ have gotten everyone up they can and are currently recovering their center. I estimate we¡¯ll be ready to head out within 20 minutes, possibly less,¡± he replied. Cathleen could tell that he was holding something back but didn¡¯t have any interest in pushing him for more information. She knew he was capable of handling whatever it was, and if he wasn¡¯t he¡¯d let her know. ¡°Understood, we¡¯ll continue sweeping the surrounding tunnels. We¡¯ll reconnect with you at the second checkpoint so we can set up an isolated command channel. Until then, continue to monitor the other assault forces. I¡¯ll be out of range of the Battle Hub for the foreseeable future, and you¡¯ll have to take my place as the Battle Leader until you are as well,¡± she ordered. ¡°How far did you get before the relays failed?¡± he asked. ¡°Not nearly as far as we¡¯d hoped. We¡¯re still around 20 floors away from what used to be the noble district, and this is the outer range line,¡± she replied unhappily. Grunting in acknowledgment, Knight Angelton replied, ¡°That¡¯s¡­ not ideal. But we¡¯ll make it work. See you in an hour.¡± ¡°One hour,¡± she confirmed before adding, ¡°Good luck.¡± ¡°You as well,¡± he replied before returning to what he¡¯d been doing. ¡ª-- The moment Nero¡¯s brain understood what was happening, he began cursing up a storm. He honestly didn¡¯t know whether to laugh or cry at the situation he¡¯d found himself in. It was all just so ridiculous. There were simply too many things about this new world that bugged him. For one, the fact that the people here had a cultural investment in their individuality to the point that it influenced their laws, while at the same time seeing no issue pledging their lives to people made absolutely no sense to him. Then, on top of that, there was the fact that the entire governmental machine was built on the concept of a meritocracy which had somehow been warped through an unholy union with what appeared to be a class system. It made no sense at all, and should not work nearly as well as it seemed to. But all that aside, the core issue he had with the way this world worked was the fact that it was so¡­ cliched? No, that wasn¡¯t the right word¡­ ¡®obvious¡¯ maybe? He could live with the fact that the people here were impossible. He could even somewhat wrap his head around how their society came to be what with the fact that everyone could ¡®feel¡¯ their neighbor¡¯s emotions through their weird pseudo-telepethy. When it came down to it, it was nothing more than an amped-up version of what he was already used to. Forced to understand how their actions affected others in turn affected them. He got that. The people at the top living absurdly long lives and wanting their middle managers to be competent to handle things in a way that caused them the least amount of problems? That also somewhat made sense to him. He still didn¡¯t get how the system wasn¡¯t widely being abused, but he could at least understand, theoretically, how it might be possible. When you could have hundreds of kids, why wouldn¡¯t you continue until you had an heir that wouldn¡¯t be a disappointment? It made enough sense not to melt his brain. But, the fact that the spiritual mumbo-jumbo bumper sticker bullshit he¡¯d seen on cat posters continually smacked him upside the head with its stupidity was simply too much for him. People were NOT supposed to be able to confront their problems directly. Humanity had no business being able to actually ¡®face their fears¡¯ or ¡®emotionally grow stronger through adversity¡¯. Those were supposed to be platitudes that kept people from offing themselves and screwing up the economy through a labor shortage. He was supposed to suppress his negativity with a healthy dose of denial and medication. Therapy was supposed to be a lifelong struggle, not something that could actually lead to anything remotely positive. People with money or a gold-star health plan were supposed to waste hours of their lives responding to pointless questions like ¡®how did that make you feel?¡¯ and ¡®is that true, or do you just feel like it is?¡¯. For the vast majority of everyone else, self-help was a type of tax on depression, not a valid way of living your life! Looking up at the roiling storm clouds over his head in his soul space, he felt like screaming at the heavens, demanding that they try and at least find a way to be somewhat original. Because that was what was really bothering him. It wasn¡¯t the fact that people had died during a battle that he¡¯d recommended, or that he¡¯d failed in his promise to himself to bring them all back. It was the fact that his soul space continued to be so damned ¡®obvious¡¯ with its representations of his issues. ¡®This is not displaced anger, or any other psychological bullshit,¡¯ he assured himself. ¡®Storm clouds throughout my soul because I¡¯m conflicted¡­ seriously? And I suppose the normally sturdy trees are getting ripped apart because I¡¯m at war with myself or something. Although the flash flood representing my inner turmoil as to whether I¡¯m doing the right thing is a nice touch. The whole ¡®hiding my path forward under my insecurities¡¯ is at least somewhat inspired,¡¯ he remarked to himself while scowling at the river of mud water rushing past him. Idly lifting one of his feet out of the mud, he wasted about half a second wondering why he wasn¡¯t having issues just standing there. Shrugging his shoulders as if it didn¡¯t matter, he told himself, ¡®Of course it doesn¡¯t make sense, this is all in my head or my soul or something. No point in overanalyzing things, that way lies madness.¡¯ Before he got sidetracked by anything else, he opened up his identity to check on his status.
Name Nero Walker Level 16
Race Human Growth 61%
Tier 1 Condition 73%
Age 14 Center 100%
Body 4 Mind 5
Soul 2 Confluence 11
Stars 0 Pillars 3/ 1
¡®73%? Eh, sounds about right,¡¯ he thought to himself while rolling his shoulders and attempting to crack his neck. Nero did feel a little under the weather. He was also pretty sure that his growth had gone up a bit, regardless of the fact that he had a lot of experiences waiting to be incorporated by re-examining them. According to the books he¡¯d read, there were three main ways to gain experience. One, immediately upon having them they could be added to a person¡¯s center without issue. Those were usually new sights/sounds/etc., stuff that didn¡¯t require a whole lot of understanding. Then, there was the careful re-examination of memories through meditation which everybody who was actively trying to level did daily. How he¡¯d morphed that into his weird soul-space memory bubbles still made no sense to him.Support creative writers by reading their stories on Royal Road, not stolen versions. But finally, the one that rarely happened was the epiphany-like realizations that people could make during times of stress. Those were the ones that accounted for most of his growth, and the ones that most people rarely accomplished. Nero could admit that he¡¯d had more than his fair share of mind-shattering realizations over the past few months, but that didn¡¯t mean he had to like it. The whole dichotomy of both needing to ¡®know who you are¡¯ while also ¡®growing as a person¡¯ seemed ridiculous to him. How could both be relevant? They were opposing ideologies! Grumbling under his breath, he set that aside for the moment and focused on the swirling clouds of memories hovering in front of him. ¡®Let¡¯s just get this crap over with and see if there is something I¡¯m supposed to ¡®confront¡¯ that will end this nonsense,¡¯ he said to himself. Looking around, he could see that most of the memory clouds were sights of people being injured and left behind that he¡¯d either ignored or simply not noticed. Nero was less than happy having to look at them. His perception field had seen everything, and it had only been his stubborn refusal to focus on the bad parts of the war that had allowed him to miss them. It wasn¡¯t all bad though, it was nice to see himself saving people. He looked kind of badass destroying his body as he channeled more and more soul stuff to resuscitate people. His new perspective also allowed him to understand how he¡¯d managed to injure himself so badly. ¡®I hadn¡¯t realized I¡¯d been glowing,¡¯ he remarked to himself. Seeing the amount of essence he¡¯d been channeling, it made sense that his body was having trouble handling it. While his center had no trouble processing the soul stuff, having it course through his body on the way was enough to destabilize it. Interestingly, the result of having so much non-imbued essence inside him looked very similar to what happened when his center reserves fell below the threshold to keep himself together. ¡®There are probably some ¡®sciency¡¯ or metaphysical conclusions I should draw from that,¡¯ he told himself before moving on. Eventually, the smaller memory clouds were all processed and incorporated into his center and all he was left with were the big ones. They were twice the size of the standard memory clouds he¡¯d gotten used to and were hovering around an even larger one in the middle that pulsed in tune with the storm clouds above him. Realizing that the one in the middle was probably the ¡®main plot of the episode¡¯ type issue he¡¯d eventually have to confront, he did the smart thing and instead focused on the other ones. Unsurprisingly, these were filled with some of the gorier sights he¡¯d witnessed but mentally set aside to emotionally process later. Apparently, later meant now. The one with the open but dead eyes of the first woman he¡¯d resuscitated was particularly uncomfortable to accept. While seeing kobald clones butchered and blown up hadn¡¯t bothered him all that much, there was something about seeing a human being mangled that made him feel stuff. Uncomfortable stuff. Anger. Helplessness. Regret. All the types of emotions that he usually set aside for the sake of his sanity bombarded him with each viewing. He had to accept what had happened, and that there had been nothing he could do about it. While he¡¯d chosen to fight, so had they. And even if they hadn¡¯t, he¡¯d eventually have to learn to accept the responsibility for having led them here. Life wasn¡¯t all sunshine and rainbows, he¡¯d always known that. There was no reason to carry guilt around with him. All he could do was his best, and try not to make the same mistakes in the future. Standing on the muddy path under the rain, Nero stood panting in front of the final memory, the face of Knight Angelton staring back at him. Taking a moment to raise his chin so he could stare up at the lightning-filled storm clouds, Nero let the rain wash over him, washing away his sadness and regret. He refused to feel ¡®reborn¡¯ or anything at all similar to that bullshit cliche. ¡®This is just a thing I have to do in this world,¡¯ he told himself. Firming his resolve, he reopened his eyes and lowered his head to glare at the memory waiting for him. Diving in, he re-experienced his conversation with Knight Angelton when the man alerted him to the people they¡¯d lost. Nero saw the image of himself emotionally shutting down. He could remember the feeling of failure and loss, and the conscious choice to push those emotions aside to try and move forward. ¡°It¡¯s what soldiers do,¡± he heard himself say, his voice sounding utterly empty. Staring at the sight of himself, Nero paused for a moment. Despite knowing that he wasn¡¯t actually a 14-year-old boy, or however old his actual body was with all the weird timekeeping they do here, Nero thought that he looked every bit the young man that he currently was. Perhaps it was hormones or his new body, but Nero didn¡¯t think so. Some smart person somewhere had once likened any new experience to a child seeing something for the first time. The term ¡®child-like¡¯ wonder being applied to his situation seemed both apt and appalling at the same time. True, he¡¯d been in his thirties before he¡¯d died back on earth, but he also hadn¡¯t experienced all that much. Aside from his time drinking at the bars with his friends and the time he spent in school and work, he hadn¡¯t exactly lived a full life. Most of it had been on his phone. He¡¯d never gone to war, lived with ¡®nobility¡¯, or gone on a real adventure. That¡¯s probably why he was so excited and stupid about his goals here. He wanted to make a difference. He wanted to sacrifice and experience hardship for some noble goal that if he saw anyone else trying he¡¯d mock them for it. It was a stupid, childish dream that was both serious and whimsical at the same time. Everything he¡¯d experienced in this world had been new, and regardless of his age, he was still a child and therefore acting like one. Thinking about Nick and his glee at seeing some of what Nero could do blowing his mind, and even Archmage Jennings¡¯ surprised face at seeing him manipulate essence the way he did, Nero wondered if anyone here ever truly grew up. Perhaps that was another dumb-ass example of a cat-poster being made into reality in this world. Those few people who retained their child-like desire to grow and experience things never reached adulthood, and those who¡¯d felt like they¡¯d learned and experienced all they needed to¡­ they were the ones who began to age and stop growing. Mentally returning to the memory he¡¯d paused, Nero watched Knight Angelton¡¯s eyes as he replied, ¡°Yes, my lord. That¡¯s what soldiers do.¡± The man looked tired, but there was a hint of pride in what he said. It was as if he was thinking about the next battle and the next one after that, promising himself that he¡¯d be there. He didn¡¯t look resigned to the fact that losing people was just a part of war, and he didn¡¯t look defeated. In truth, he looked like he was resolved to do better, to mitigate the losses as best he could while continuing forward and completing his mission. He looked like a warrior should. ¡°Not just soldiers old man¡­ Adventurers do it too,¡± Nero muttered as he stared into the memory of Harry¡¯s gray eyes. As the memory dissipated into a cloud of vapor, Nero looked up at the clearing sky. One by one, shafts of light broke through, filling the forest around him with refracted light throughout the mist. The leaves on the trees began to grow new leaves as more and more branches filled the canopy. Clear, fresh water replaced the muddy river washing the path in front of him clean. In less than a minute, the disturbing sight of his soul at war with itself was replaced with a healthy forest and a clear path forward. Staring up at the gloriously refracting hues of colors, Nero¡¯s jaw remained open in shock as he felt his feet lifting off the ground while essence swirled around him. He could feel himself leveling. It was both exhilarating and refreshing. Every cell of his being rejoiced with the infusion of energy. Nero felt like he¡¯d been given a full body colonic filled with holy water and Mountain Dew. Not that he¡¯d ever had a colonic filled with holy water or otherwise¡­ but that¡¯s what it felt like. When his feet touched back down on the path, Nero¡¯s identity practically opened itself.
Name Nero Walker Level 17
Race Human Growth 2%
Tier 1 Condition 100%
Age 14 Center 100%
Body 4 Mind 5
Soul 2 Confluence 11
Stars 1 Pillars 3/ 1
Body 4
Base Operative Level Stress
Presence 22 39.6 23.2
Durability 26 46.8 31.9
Recovery 47 84.6 26.3
Speed 25 45 36.4
Adaptability 47 84.6 33.5
Power 24 43.2 19.1
Mind 5
Base Operative Level Stress
Weight 32 64 21.7
Control 39 78 29.3
Field 36 72 44.1
Precision 55 110 40.2
Endurance 65 130 41.9
Focus 61 122 50
Soul 2
Base Operative Level Stress
Size 29 40.6 7.2
Density 101 141.4 13.4
Intensity 76 106.4 19
Pressure 27 37.8 16.2
Harmony 24 33.6 50
Adaptability 270 378 15.9
Nero gasped, trying to regain his breath. He bent over at the waist and gripped his knees as he clenched his eyes shut trying to steady himself. ¡°That was freaking intense,¡± he muttered under his breath. Quickly getting his racing thoughts back under control, Nero began reading his identity and stat panels. Most of what he was seeing made sense. As usual, his body¡¯s condition was back at 100%, his center having rebuilt what had been broken with the level. The other stuff, as usual a mixed bag of obvious and confusing in equal measure. He still didn¡¯t understand why he was able to raise his level stresses so high, as every book he¡¯d read on the subject made it sound like anything over 10 was practically impossible. He could only assume it had something to do with his pillar. If he recalled correctly, the last time his level stresses got super high he¡¯d lost control of his stars trying to imbue them when he¡¯d leveled. Frowning at the thought of putting another star into his mind stat and furthering the imbalance even more, Nero debated what to do about the two stats that were at 50. Both his mind-focus and soul-adaptability seemed to be maxed out¡­ maybe? It seemed odd that they both hit 50 on the dot. He knew for a fact he¡¯d gotten one or two of his level stresses higher than that before, so it probably meant something for them to cap there. He really wanted to keep a 50% buffer between his stats and his confluence, as all the books he¡¯d read on the subject had warnings about confluence affecting a person¡¯s ability to level if it got too low comparatively. ¡®Fuck it,¡¯ he thought to himself. He couldn¡¯t allow his soul to fall even further behind, and something about the 50 next to his soul-harmony stat just looked too dangerous for him to ignore. Nero pushed his star into his soul stat. He¡¯d just have to try and get another level or two as soon as possible so he could put one in his confluence before he addressed his mind¡­ and body¡­ and well everything. Unfortunately, whatever plans he was cooking up were put on hold by the feeling of his entire center squeezing like a melon under a hydraulic press. The sensation of everything that he ¡®was¡¯ being stretched like taffy was almost enough to mentally break him. He felt connected to everything, and yet so pathetically small. And it hurt. It hurt so much. When reality snapped back into place, he could still feel the echo of the stress his soul had been under. It felt like he¡¯d overfilled a balloon and barely avoided ¡®wetting¡¯ himself. ¡®Damn, I really need to figure out how to stop stressing the hell out of my levels. I¡¯m gonna blow myself up if I keep doing whatever it is that I¡¯m doing,¡¯ he thought to himself. Taking one last regretful look at that mind-focus stat with a 50 next to it, Nero closed the panels. Shifting his attention back to his reinvigorated soul forest, he took a moment to appreciate how utterly beautiful it all looked. He found himself glancing up at the sky now that the storm clouds and the rain were gone with a wide and serene smile on his face. There, starting behind the mountain range in the distance and traveling all the way across the horizon was a giant double rainbow. Immediately losing his smile, Nero glared at the things as if they¡¯d personally offended him by even existing. ¡®Of course. Everything is all peachy-keen now, right? Sunshine and rainbows¡­ literally. Eat a dick universe,¡¯ he thought to himself before fleeing the disgustingly heartwarming sight and returning to what passed for reality around here. Chapter 265 - Needing or wanting answers, and the reality that precludes them. Chapter 34 (265) Lately there never seemed to be enough time to address all the issues that were cropping up in her city. Between the rush to increase internal food production, housing issues with the immigrants from the emptying villages and towns, resource shortages, problems outside the wall resulting from the density shift, and the recent shakeup of the military due to its hidden leader making an appearance, City Lord Cosgrave had been unable to focus on the typical nobility issues that normally dominated her schedule. Glancing around the Hall of Leadership from her chair at the head of the council, she watched as the latecomers tried to sneak their way into the meeting. Scoffing internally at the sight of them ducking their heads in shame, she recalled her mother¡¯s wisdom like she always did in these situations. ¡°Always be on time. Neither early nor late. When you¡¯re late, you look like an idiot and you¡¯re position is inevitably weakened as a result. And when you¡¯re too early, all it does is prove to whoever you¡¯re meeting that you have nothing better to do. Or worse, that you are incapable of properly managing your schedule. So, be on time¡­ always,¡± she had said. ¡®Good advice,¡¯ she thought to herself. Mentally checking the time, she waited for the final few seconds to pass before she slammed her hand down onto the table with an essence-infused slap. ¡°This emergency session of the Council of Leadership has been called at the request of our city¡¯s temporary general Commander Dahl. For those of you who¡¯ve managed to find out what this is about, keep it to yourselves until he¡¯s had a chance to voice his concerns. For those who haven¡¯t, keep your mouths shut until you¡¯ve been briefed,¡± she said firmly, her voice carrying throughout the chamber. She carefully looked around at the circled tables in the center of the chamber, hoping to see some evidence that one of the other councilors already knew what the commander was going to say. Unfortunately, their faces were just as expressionless as hers and gave nothing away. It was entirely possible that they were just as in the dark as she was. The surrounding rings filled with the other nobles weren¡¯t nearly as hard to interpret. All across the chamber, she could see panicked nobles whispering to each other demanding to know what was going on. It was obvious that they had no idea why they had been summoned. Keeping her tone cool and controlled, she looked toward the petitioner¡¯s circle and ordered, ¡°Commander Dahl, if you would please come forward and enlighten the room as to what this meeting is to be about.¡± Her words and actions were carefully chosen to make it seem as though she was already aware of what he¡¯d be saying. It wouldn¡¯t be good for her to admit that she hadn¡¯t been able to find out why he¡¯d called this emergency session of the council, including the entirety of Dorchester¡¯s nobility with his summons. Stepping up onto the central dias, Commander Dahl began his presentation without any hint of hesitation. His tone of voice was even and unbothered, but she could immediately tell he was struggling to maintain his control. The man¡¯s presence made it clear that he was shaken. As he continued to speak, the entire chamber quieted down. Between his explanations as to what was happening and the evidence he presented in the form of scrys, everyone in the chamber began shifting in their seats. Even she found herself struggling to keep her expression under control. While very few people in Dorchester had spent time studying planar mechanics, the Commander¡¯s presentation made it clear what kind of crisis they were facing. In a way, it was impressive that the army had even discovered the problem. Dorchester wasn¡¯t a city with a technology level that would allow for planar research. So, the only conclusion she could draw was that someone had let something slip in order to give them a fighting chance to handle the problem themselves. ¡®Possibly the archmage? Or maybe Mage-adept Newbanks? It could even be those former evaluators who decided to join House Walker. They could have easily used an intermediary to hide their involvement if they were willing to risk it.¡¯ she thought to herself. After finishing his presentation on what the kobalds were doing, Commander Dahl said, ¡°So, that''s it. That¡¯s what we¡¯re facing. I estimate we have three days before I¡¯ll have to recommend contacting the capital and allowing them to handle it.¡± Lord Voltan was the first to erupt. He leaned forward in his chair and nearly shouted, ¡°You¡¯re telling me the army can¡¯t stop this? Regardless of the differences, this ¡®anchor¡¯ as you call it is still just a planar gate. The kobalds have been cut off from the lower city, and the gate their opening will be restricted to the size of the former throne room they are using. They won¡¯t be able to bring in too many reinforcements if you act quickly! There is no reason other than cowardice for us to give up our rightful claim to this city!¡± Shouts of agreement rang out alongside the cries of numerous counterarguments. City Lord Cosgave let it all wash over her as she tried to get her emotions back under control. Before she could intervene, Commander Dahl¡¯s strong voice interrupted them. ¡°We do still have time!¡± he shouted, forcing the room to calm down momentarily before continuing. Swiping his hand across the hologram hovering in the center of the room which was currently displaying the kobalds working on their ritual, the image changed to display five impressively armored dwarves practically flying over the ground away from their mountain. ¡°I¡¯ve been alerted by King Mithrilstrike that he has deployed a team of Battleborns to deal with the anchor portal. They¡¯ll be here within the day,¡± he said firmly while grimacing uncomfortably. He continued on as he ignored the gasps of shock by those few nobles who understood what Battleborns were. ¡°The king didn¡¯t request our leave to let them through the walls so much as warn us that they were coming. He didn¡¯t even bother to use the ambassadorial channels we¡¯d set up, and instead sent word through the communication orb we¡¯d given them for military emergencies.¡± Lord Newling spoke up, ¡°If I recall, Battleborns are the dwarven equivalent of Populators. Why are any of them even here? They are strategic assets that are only used to fight off threats from the underworld, are they not? The Mithrilstrike clan lost their Battleborns in their fight with -¡± On the other side of the room, Lord Peyton interrupted him, ¡°Everyone knows what Battleborns are! A history lesson isn¡¯t relevant at the moment. We need to know if using them to stop the kobalds will violate the city self-reliance statute. If they solve this crisis for us, will our charter be broken?¡± Almost every eye in the room turned to Lord Bennings. As the head of the Tower of Law, she would be the one most likely to know how the specific wording of the statute might apply to interference of this nature. Amazingly, Lord Bennings looked just as confused as the rest of them. Coughing lightly to clear her throat before she spoke. Lord Bennings eventually buckled under the pressure and admitted, ¡°I have no idea. To my knowledge, nothing like this has ever happened. A foreign power like the dwarves has never intervened in a city¡¯s development cycle. That is if we consider the dwarves a foreign power. They are under a treaty to develop alongside us, so it could be argued that they are just saving themselves as the crisis would also affect them. However, Battleborns are at a level far above what a city Dorchester¡¯s level should be able to deploy, so I have no idea how the courts in the capital might decide to interpret this development.¡± Multiple people shouted out their complaints at her non-answer, demanding a committee to be assembled to investigate the likely outcome if the Battleborn¡¯s interference were to be reviewed by the capital. Others, the smarter nobles in the room, kept their mouths shut, realizing that there wasn¡¯t any time for something like that. Once again, Commander Dahl retook control of the room with his booming voice. ¡°It might not come to that. We have a chance to handle this ourselves since we have an assault force attempting to stop the anchor portal from even opening. If they succeed, none of this even matters. The kobalds can¡¯t create another anchor portal without access to the former throne room, and we have sufficient forces in place to retake the upper city if the kobalds don¡¯t get reinforcements.¡± City Lord Cosgrave couldn¡¯t keep the slight frown off her face as she leaned forward in her chair and asked, ¡°I believe you stated at the beginning of your presentation that the likelihood of stopping the portal from opening was minimal at best. You even went so far as to detail the plan you¡¯ve come up with to close it. Why haven¡¯t you included this assault force in your presentation before now?¡± Coughing uncomfortably into his hand, Commander Dahl looked somewhat unhappy with having to answer the question. ¡°My lord, it is because they are not currently acting under the army¡¯s orders. Technically that is. When we heard of the anchor portal¡¯s opening, we allowed for volunteers to try and stop it from happening. We didn¡¯t expect any of our forward operating bases to bother trying. But, they came up with their plan on their own. As of twenty minutes ago, they managed to get a small but sizable assault force through the kobald¡¯s defenses into the upper city¡¯s higher floors. Although it¡¯s unlikely that they¡¯ll succeed, it is¡­ possible.¡±A case of content theft: this narrative is not rightfully on Amazon; if you spot it, report the violation. The entire room was silent as they digested this new development. Requests for more information as to the assault force''s chances and suggestions were called out. Some were shouting outlandish demands like ordering the assault to get the old astra-teleporter pads operational so reinforcements could be sent in. Others were shouting that if one team could make it through, more could as well. The entire chamber was filled with chaos as more and more nobles filled the room with noise. City Lord Cosgrave on the other hand had been following the subtext that Commander Dahl had been purposefully avoiding. Raising her voice over the shouts of the rest of the chamber, she asked, ¡°And who is leading this assault force if not the army?¡± Looking more uncomfortable by the moment, Commander Dahl replied, ¡°House Walker, my lord.¡± ¡ª-- Nero came out of his meditation to find multiple people gathering around him with smiles on their faces. They were just standing there waiting for him. Multiple pats on the back greeted him as they dragged him to his feet. Based on the context of what he was hearing, they were all congratulating him on his recent level like it was his birthday. Not knowing what to say, he felt like he was back on Earth at an office party nodding in thanks like an idiot while trying to push his way toward his cake. While everyone in the immediate vicinity around him was happy, he could tell that there were plenty of people in the back who didn¡¯t feel nearly the same way. He could tell by their essence fields that there was plenty of confusion going around and even a bit of jealousy. The sense that there were individuals spread out through the tunnel who wished they had been the one to level was almost omnipresent. What was weird though was that none of the animosity seemed targeted toward him. He would have expected people to feel jealous in a way that he was used to. It wouldn¡¯t have come as a surprise to him to see people angry at his success, but that didn¡¯t seem to be the case. Instead, it felt more like the jealous people were focusing their animosity on themselves for not having done the same. Yes, there was a sense of competition, but it was more¡­ ¡®healthy¡¯ than what he was used to. No one seemed to be hoping to see others fail and were more concerned with their own progress. ¡®The kindergartens here must be on another level,¡¯ he thought to himself while absently accepting the good wishes from the people surrounding him. Whatever negative thoughts he¡¯d had about his soul¡¯s continued attempts to beat him over the head with overly obvious cliches were gone by the time he extricated himself from the crowd. Making his way into the center of the tunnel, he saw that the front line of the combat had moved well away from the tunnel¡¯s entrance. There was still plenty of fighting going on, but it wasn¡¯t nearly as bad as it had been when they¡¯d made their way through the encampment. In fact, due to the number of kobald bodies that were stacked up, if things continued the way they were heading, the tunnel entrance may end up blocked off with their corpses. Frowning in thought, Nero realized that he¡¯d never bothered to check how long his meditations took. Considering how he had a clock built into his brain by the world, that was a massive oversight. ¡®How long had I been under? It felt like a while. More than a couple of hours at least,¡¯ he thought to himself. But, it couldn¡¯t have been that long. Based on how many kobalds had been killed, and how everyone was still looking from the battle, Nero estimated that he¡¯d only been in his soul space for a few minutes. ¡®Just another weird thing I¡¯ll have to eventually spend time figuring out,¡¯ he told himself before ignoring it. Turning away from the sight of the fighting, Nero looked over at the still-meditating healers and mages behind him. There were some already up and healing again, helping the fighters that were rotating among the new front line. For a moment, Nero considered helping out but was interrupted by Harry walking up to him along with former Sergeant Blackwood. Without any preamble, Harry said, ¡°My lord, congratulations on your level. Your leveling speed is just as outrageous as I¡¯ve been told. Have you fully recovered?¡± Nero, not wanting to get into it at the moment, replied, ¡°Yeah, I¡¯m fine. How¡¯s the battle going? When are we moving out again?¡± Gesturing at the fighting, he added, ¡°We can¡¯t exactly stay here, can we?¡± Harry replied, ¡°We¡¯ll be moving out as soon as the healers are ready to go. Another five or ten minutes at most. We shouldn¡¯t have any problems holding the entrance, and the scouts and forward troops have already cleared the way. We¡¯ll be making toward the central route to the noble district using the kobald tunnels. There may be some kobald scouting bands that we¡¯ve missed, but I doubt we¡¯ll see any larger groups that would be a problem.¡± Nodding in understanding, Nero changed the subject, ¡°Sounds good, but can I ask you something?¡± ¡°Of course, my lord,¡± Harry replied, his face remaining cut from stone. ¡°Can I call you Harry?¡± Nero asked with a grin. Confused, Harry replied, ¡°My name is Harold, my lord. Is this still about how you should refer to people? I thought we covered that?¡± Waving away the subject, Nero replied, ¡°Yeah, we did. Don¡¯t worry about it, Harry. So, how long until we get to the throne room, and should we be expecting the kobalds to chase us the entire way?¡± Looking decidedly unhappy to be referred to as ¡®Harry¡¯, Harry visibly frowned at the sight of former Sergeant Blackwood snickering alongside him. Turning back to Nero, he replied, ¡°If we don¡¯t run into any problems, we should be there within two hours. And I doubt the kobalds will chase us. They most likely have been ordered to defend the caverns at the major intersections. As long as they continue to focus on the other assault teams that are maintaining the fighting, we shouldn¡¯t be bothered from the rear.¡± Nero chuckled and asked, ¡°It¡¯s cause they¡¯re stupid clones, right? They are just following their last orders?¡± ¡°That¡¯s my assumption, yes,¡± he replied. ¡°Won¡¯t some of their leaders notice and alter their orders?¡± Nero asked. ¡°Unlikely,¡± former Sergeant Blackwood said before adding, ¡°The leadership is too busy getting their ritual organized.¡± Nero looked over at the former sergeant and quickly used part of his mind to delve into the link in his pocket. With a little effort, he was quickly able to locate the man¡¯s full name. ¡°Your name¡¯s Terry Cooper-Blackwood? How does that work?¡± Nero asked in confusion as he hadn¡¯t seen a hyphenated name before. Surprised at the question, Terry looked over at Harry as if to silently ask him if he understood what was going on. Harry responded with the slightest of shrugs making it clear that he had no idea. Turning back to Nero, Terry replied, ¡°Well, my lord. My father was the former Lord Blackwood. My mother was Constance Cooper, the thirteenth daughter of House Cooper. She is a Wayfinder out in the town of Illendorn. Although, like the rest of the town she is returning to Dorchester due to the evacuations. If you are worried about my ties to House Blackwood or are under the impression that I hold any malice toward you due to my father¡¯s death, you needn¡¯t worry. I have cut ties with House Blackwood and am now loyal to House Walker.¡± Speaking up in support of his friend, Harry added, ¡°I assure you, my lord, Wacko Blackwood is as trustworthy as they come. He¡¯s given his life oath and dedicated himself to your house¡¯s future along with the rest of us. You needn¡¯t worry about his loyalties.¡± Nero, realizing that he¡¯d given them the wrong impression of what he¡¯d been asking, replied, ¡°That¡¯s not what I meant¡­ Wait, that Blackwood guy was your father? Did I already know that? Nevermind. Sorry about your dad, but I didn¡¯t kill him, I just survived him. Blame the city lord or whatever. No, what I was asking about is why you have two last names. How does that work? And when did ¡®Wacko¡¯ become a title?¡± Terry, still totally confused, replied somewhat woodenly, ¡°Um. Well, my lord. I was named after my father, Terrance Blackwood. He met my mother when he was out surveying his lands. She was -¡± Nero interrupted him before he got his family''s entire life story. ¡°No, that¡¯s¡­ You know what? Forget about it. It¡¯s not important.¡± Around them, people were still moving about with purpose as they were either being healed, repairing their armor, or seeing to their supplies. The sounds of combat were still coming from the battle lines, and more and more people were being cycled out for fresher troops. Occasionally, there were sounds of abilities going off like fireworks. This wasn¡¯t the time for Nero to learn about more weird customs of the locals despite how confusing and offputting they were. ¡®I really miss Nick,¡¯ Nero thought to himself with a sigh. Returning his attention to the two large men, Nero asked, ¡°So, we¡¯ll be heading out in a few minutes and then storming the throne room to stop the ritual. You said two hours, right? Isn¡¯t that going to be cutting it a little close with the estimates of when they¡¯d be done?¡± Nodding grimly, Harry replied, ¡°Yes, my lord. We may not make it in time to stop it, but as you said¡­ we might, and therefore it is worth it to try. If we fail and fall, we¡¯ll have at least tried. And if we succeed, then we¡¯ll have done something worthy of being recorded in the archives for future generations to look back on and be inspired.¡± Terry¡¯s eyes were hard as ice as he added, ¡°May I say, the fact that you¡¯re willing to put your life and the life of your burgeoning house at risk is admirable, my lord. No noble that I¡¯ve ever heard of would be willing to do the same. You¡¯re an inspiration.¡± Nero, thoroughly uncomfortable with the flattery, replied, ¡°Yup, that''s me. I¡¯m all about inspiring the masses and stuff. But, I have to go over there now, so just let me know when we¡¯re heading out.¡± Without another word, Nero disengaged from the conversation, leaving them to stare in confusion behind him. He could tell that there was more Harry had wanted to speak with him about, but he¡¯d had about all he could take and he felt like his social batteries were on power-saving mode. Besides, he needed to find Merrick and get some answers to some of his questions about his soul space. The guy wasn¡¯t Nick, but he¡¯d at least been to school for this kind of stuff. Using his perception field, he quickly found Merrick, but unfortunately saw that the guy was deep in meditation. Looking around, he could see that basically all the people he recognized were busy doing something. It made sense, as they were still in an active war zone. Standing there in the middle of the cavern uncomfortably, Nero wasn¡¯t sure what he was supposed to be doing. And the longer he stood there, the more people were starting to pay attention to him. He could feel their attention weighing down on him. At the sound of a particularly loud ability going off, Nero turned away from the sight of everyone getting ready to move out. Cracking his knuckles in anticipation of the upcoming violence, he thought to himself, ¡®Well, I did promise myself that I¡¯d leave the kobald clones with a few nightmares. Best get to it. I¡¯ve got like ten minutes. I can do a lot of damage in ten minutes.¡¯ Chapter 266 - Stress Relief and its consequences. Stepping back from the table, Subcommander Jates put his hands behind his back and stretched his lower back with a groan. Between the rush through the tunnels to combine his forces with those from F.O.B.3 and the hurried assault once they¡¯d arrived, the stress was getting to him. Over the command channel, he heard, ¡°Jates! Get your troops under control! The push from tunnel 5 is falling behind, you¡¯re going to allow the bastards to regroup if you don¡¯t hold that position!¡± Growling in annoyance, he replied, ¡°Yes, sir. I¡¯m on it.¡± Stomping away from the table, he switched his attention to the command channel for his units and began barking orders. While most of his attention remained on the battle currently being fought, he couldn¡¯t help but complain to himself that he had been supposed to be handling a simple clean-and-clear mission from a fortified base camp. It should have been a slow, measured advance through the upper city. Not this. Arriving at the last checkpoint before the end of the tunnel, he looked over at the overworked head of his healers and asked, ¡°How are the healers holding up? Can they keep up with the cycles?¡± The healer looked over at him with a grimace but nodded. Jates could feel her choosing her words carefully when she replied slowly, ¡°Yes, for the moment. We haven¡¯t lost anyone yet, but a few resuscitations have been closer than I¡¯d like. The sustained rate of injuries we¡¯re seeing is nearing our limit. Any chance we can slow down on the cycles we¡¯re seeing?¡± Snorting in amusement at her, Jates replied, ¡°Not likely. If anything, I¡¯m thinking it¡¯s only going to get worse.¡± ¡°I don¡¯t understand,¡± she replied with a sigh. ¡°I thought all we had to do was keep the enemy engaged on this side of the chamber so that House Walker could get through one of the smaller tunnels on the other side. They¡¯re through, so we should be ramping down the assault, right?¡± ¡°You¡¯d think so,¡± he replied. ¡°But that¡¯s not what¡¯s happening. The commander in charge of the assault wants to make sure the kobalds keep their attention here. Everything hinges on keeping them from following after them. We need the kobalds worried that they¡¯ll be overrun. That means we need to keep pounding their defenses and bleeding their forces. Without reinforcements, they¡¯re losing troops by the dozens with no one to replace them. With our healing, we can win a war of attrition.¡± Turning his attention away from her, Jates observed the 20-man-wide fighting line holding the entrance of the tunnel. He could see the kobald shamans on the top of their effective but poorly built wall holding back the few mages who were working hard to pull it down. As it had been for the last hour, it was a stalemate. From the scry reports they¡¯d received, he knew the chamber they were assaulting was large enough to house thousands of the little monsters. The kobalds had built multi-storied stone hovels that had been packed to rafters with fighters. Even at the rate they were killing them, it would take forever to clear them all out. Which was of course the entire point of them being here. The kobalds needed to buy time for their ritual and were perfectly happy to sacrifice their grunts for the opportunity. Mumbling to himself, he said, ¡°We¡¯ll just have to keep them focused on the fighting. If House Walker fails, we¡¯ll fall back. Otherwise, they¡¯ll need this chamber cleared to make it out of the upper city¡¯s noble district without being hunted down by furious kobalds unhappy with their plans failing.¡± Thinking back to his interactions with the disturbingly competent Catherine Averett, he sincerely doubted that would happen. While most of the army was just going along with the attack on the off chance House Walker might succeed, Jates had a feeling the kobalds were already dead and just didn¡¯t know it. Shivering at the memory of her cold stare, he thought to himself, ¡®Yup. Thinking that woman will fail is idiotic.¡¯ ¡ª-- While Nero would have thought he¡¯d have to push through the lines to be allowed forward, he instead found the soldiers waiting for their turn at the combat line shifting and ducking out of his way as he passed them. Their essence fields, along with their smiling faces, made it clear that they were more than happy to have him join them. The tunnel they were fighting in was wide enough for ten or fifteen people to fight without getting in each other¡¯s way, and by now they¡¯d retreated a good distance from the entrance. The kobalds were still coming though, just not in the numbers that he¡¯d expected to see. Near the top of the tunnel, he could see that a few mages were maintaining a small shield to stop the kobalds from launching any arrows, spells, or spears over the top of the fighting. Unlike the shields he was used to seeing, this one butted up against the tunnel ceiling and dropped all the way down to a foot above the height of the combat line, ensuring the fighting remained focused on the melee. By the time he got near the front, he could see troops cycling out to either take a break or go get some healing. They didn¡¯t look all that stressed, and the kobalds were barely making them put in the effort of pushing them back. Both sides looked like they were just going through the motions. ¡®The dumb lizards really do just want to keep us out of their little chamber. Idiots,¡¯ he thought to himself. The tension he¡¯d been feeling from being denied a chance to cut loose, along with his ethical concerns of feeling responsible for losing people felt like a weight on his shoulders. He needed to vent, and he was more than happy to kill kobalds to make himself feel better. It would probably be more productive than tracking down some alcohol or figuring out how to post inflammatory posts on the Thought Hub. For a moment, he debated whether or not he should bother with a full-on mage shield, but eventually decided that he¡¯d never get better at using one unless he practiced. He needed to get used to maintaining one while in the thick of it, along with his link to the command channels and his spell forms. The more he worked his mind, the more it would grow. Reaching out with his senses, he collapsed as much essence as he could along his skin before building up a shell of protection around himself. He could feel the tingling sensation of the enchantment taking form as his attention split. Frowning in determination, he began carving two spell forms above each of his shoulders and attaching them to his collected essence with a spell tether. One was his trusty spell-shell chucker, and the other was his acid ball launcher. The last thing he needed was to fill the tunnel with flames that might end up eating all the oxygen or some other such environmental problem that he couldn¡¯t possibly predict. ¡®Keep it simple stupid,¡¯ he reminded himself. Hopping lightly a few times to loosen up his muscles, he drew his sword along with a small buckler from his personal space. He followed the same procedure he¡¯d seen others do and waited for someone to call for relief from the line. He could practically ¡®feel¡¯ the other troops alongside him mentally stepping back and allowing him to take the next opening. No one said a word, but he could just tell. All of his concerns about ethics, responsibility, what might happen in the future, the prospect of failing¡­ it all just fell away as his entire being prepared for combat. He had no idea when he¡¯d become a battle junkie, nor did he care. Something about the focus of combat and the flow of uncomplicated battle just called to him. It felt freeing. His head whipped to the left as a soldier stumbled back, calling out, ¡°Need a replacement over here!¡± Shooting off at a run, Nero rushed past three troops who¡¯d been waiting for their turn and quickly cut in front of them. Without a single apology, he slipped past the Wacko who was clutching his thigh and trying to keep the kobald spear stuck inside it steady while he retreated.The author''s narrative has been misappropriated; report any instances of this story on Amazon. ¡°My turn you scaly bastards! Did you miss me!?!¡± he shouted as he hopped over a dead kobald while leading with his shield. He felt the kobald¡¯s spear scrape against the buckler in his hand as he guided it off to the side. With an evil grin on his face, he lashed out with his sword with a cross-cut, splitting the kobalds snout down the middle. As it scampered back in pain, he took a single step forward and lunged forward to stab it through its chest. Smoothly recovering from his lunge, he returned to his position among the line, glancing to his left and right to see how his new teammates were doing. From what he could tell, they seemed more than happy to wait for the kobalds to come to them and were maintaining their lines without moving forward. Seeing as he had a moment or two before another kobald decided to brave the line, Nero began funneling essence from his reserves into the spell form he was maintaining on his left shoulder. With barely a flicker of his attention, he charged it with some soul stuff from the ether and began launching an acid barrage at point-blank range into the kobald line in front of him. While he¡¯d seen a few troops using abilities that could affect areas, like the guy whose hammer swings trailed plumes of fire, his acid barrage put them all to shame. It was as gruesome as it was effective. The kobald line basically melted as the poor bastards hissed and screamed their death throes. One after another, his balls of acid made their way across the kobalds. Each one erupted into a small explosion of utter destruction. While the small kobald shields and armor helped, it wasn¡¯t nearly enough to stop the splatters from affecting them. Kobalds didn¡¯t typically wear too much armor, so there was plenty of exposed skin for the acid to eat. The entire kobald line took an involuntary step back, pausing the entire conflict as they began wrapping their confused clone heads around the shift in tone the battle had just gone through. They¡¯d thought the humans were content to just hold them back, but not Nero. Nero was intent on wiping them out. Stepping forward, Nero made sure the human line was a step or two behind him when he began charging the spell form above his right shoulder. ¡°Witness and despair at the power of sustained artillery fire,¡± he mumbled in a faux-deep voice to himself as if he was playing the part of a narrator overseeing the battle. The moment his spell was ready, the sound of his spell filled the tunnel with an echo. It was similar to the sound a grenade launcher made when it fired but sharper and louder. First one, then another, until the shells began rapid firing every second. Nero walked his line of fire across the tunnel, firing directly into the kobald line without bothering to arc his shots. At merely a few paces away, the shells'' explosions were enough to make the human line of troops stumble back as the air pressure pummeled them, some of them getting scraped up by shards of kobald that blew past them. Nero, however, was perfectly fine inside his mage armor. Aside from a bit of added pressure on his mental reserves, he didn¡¯t even notice the bits of kobald that were failing to find purchase on him. Whenever blood or gore landed on him, his mage amor ensured that it just slid off him like rain off a windshield on the highway. It took barely any effort for Nero to maintain his rate of fire. He could feel the soul stuff in the air funneling toward his spell form like a toilet draining. All he had to do was continue to compress more and more essence into his collected reserves to maintain the spell form¡¯s fuel, the soul stuff providing the destructive potential. Nero began walking forward as the kobald line fell apart. As stupid as they were, they continued to try and push forward, unable to understand that they were only spreading up their demise. Their efforts weren¡¯t entirely in vain though, as it did force him to slow down. He could only fire so many shells per second and when he focused on one side the other refilled with kobalds pushing forward. They didn¡¯t seem to care at all that they were crawling over their dead to get closer to him. Grunting in annoyance, Nero stressed his mind a little to begin adding fire from the acid launcher he¡¯d prepared. While one side of the tunnel was being hit with exploding spell shells, the other was getting buried in acid. Like two alternating sprinklers, he walked the lines of fire back and forth, crossing them for a moment in the middle before they moved on. When the rare occasion of an acid ball and a spell shell met the kobald lines at the same time, their effects seemed to be amplified. Even with his ability to observe essence interacting, he couldn¡¯t understand what he was seeing. Regardless, it was effective. Spell shells plus acid balls equaled eruptions of superheated green lava acid. Nero had no idea why, but he liked it. After a minute or two of constant fire, he must have killed dozens of kobalds, slowing their progress and pushing them back toward the entrance of the tunnel. While at first he was too focused on the fighting to pay attention to anything else, eventually he had enough breathing room to use his perception field to look around. He could tell that the humans in the line of Wackos behind him were uncertain as to what they should do. There was definitely an undercurrent of fear along with a healthy dose of awe. There was also a great deal of pride for some reason in their essence fields. Nero assumed it was probably due to the fact that their mascot was laying the smackdown like a good little figurehead. Setting them mentally aside for the moment, Nero focused on the kobalds and what they were up to. He could see that the entrance to the tunnel was being fortified like the one they¡¯d first seen when they¡¯d arrived at the chamber. Kobald shamans and casters were setting up walls of earth along with small holes for kobald fighters to run through. To Nero, it looked like they were building a very dangerous-looking version of one of those castles for children that someone would find at Chucky Cheese or at a play center. While it would probably be effective when they finished it, right now it wasn¡¯t much more than a five-foot-tall wall of mud with holes in it. Scurrying all over it were kobalds shouting and screaming at each other, none of them having the mental capacity to understand what was happening. Near the edge of his range, Nero could see a few obviously stressed kobalds trying to corral the stupider clones into formations. Some of them were larger than the others, like the tall ones who¡¯d he come to refer to as the ¡®big guys¡¯, but there were also more well-armored and robed little ones who were probably members of the upper caste and not clones. Nero wasn¡¯t sure if there was a better way to tell them apart, but he had no trouble recognizing the intelligence in their eyes as they screamed and hissed at each other. Right as he was about to take another few steps forward and unleash hell on their pathetic little attempt at a wall, he felt Harry¡¯s presence focus on him through the command channel. ¡°My lord, may I ask what you are doing?¡± Harry¡¯s voice came through along with the unavoidable feeling of his immense displeasure. Nero, while maintaining his fire along the tunnel floor replied, ¡°Um¡­ killing kobalds?¡± Feeling Harry¡¯s presence trembling with repressed rage, Nero wisely waited for the man to use his words before saying anything else. ¡°Why? Our goal is not to engage them, but to stop the anchor from being set. We don¡¯t WANT them to think we¡¯re a threat. Remember? We¡¯re supposed to be leaving them here and pretending to run away,¡± he said while trying and failing to sound patient. Nero, suddenly realizing that calling attention to their little assault band might not have been the best idea, replied, ¡°Of course. I was just clearing out the tunnel a little. Nothing more. You know, just freeing up some space so we could have an organized retreat.¡± Immediately cutting off his spells, Nero took a few steps back to rejoin the line. He could feel the entire gaggle of Wackos staring down at him with their various emotions blaring through ether like trumpets letting him know how they were currently feeling. The morass of emotions was suffocating. Using the hand that was currently still holding his sword to cover his mouth, he awkwardly coughed a few times before saying out loud, ¡°Well, that should buy us some room to switch out our troops. Anyone who needs a bathroom break¡­ now¡¯s a good time.¡± The kobalds who¡¯d been pushed back to the entrance were now thirty or forty feet away and rebuilding their lines. Even from where he was, Nero could feel their confusion as their orders were being passed along from the wall behind them. He could only hope they weren¡¯t being changed from ¡®defend this stupid chamber¡¯ to ¡®kill the dangerous humans¡¯. Returning his attention to Harry, Nero asked, ¡°You know, if you want, I could just push forward a bit and start really wiping the chamber clear of them. I doubt it would take long. Only an hour or two.¡± Harry, his presence still feeling like a disapproving coach glaring at him from the sidelines, replied, ¡°We don¡¯t have an hour to waste here. We¡¯re moving out.¡± Nero suddenly felt the command channel for the entire division start getting new orders from former Sergeant Blackwood, henceforth known as Terry since Nero decided to consider him a friend. The man¡¯s curt tone dished out orders one after another, quickly getting everyone moving. Nero moved along with the rest of the combat line in an organized retreat, taking advantage of the fact that the kobalds had temporarily paused their assault. Like a coordinated wall of troops, they backpedaled further and further into the tunnel, leaving the kobalds and their unfinished wall behind them. Due to the distance, Nero quickly lost sight of the non-clone kobalds and he could only hope they didn¡¯t change their minds and decide to pursue them. ¡®Yeah, that might not have been the best idea I¡¯ve ever had. I really need to work on my impulse control problems¡­ It was fun though,¡¯ he admitted to himself while trying to shrink his presence in the ether so people would stop paying attention to him. Chapter 267 - Off we go a battling. Common knowledge held that a person¡¯s path only ended when they allowed it to. That¡¯s what was taught to every child in every city in all of Oglivarch. It was a cultural belief that was reinforced by parents, teachers, preachers, and wayfinders. Everyone believed that hard work and tenacity trumped talent and determination. ¡°Success isn¡¯t a matter of will or luck, it¡¯s a result of effort,¡± his father had told him. Merrick had long ago come to the conclusion that his father and everyone else who¡¯d peddled that drivel had been heart-wrenchingly wrong. While it was true that hard work could overcome a lot of obstacles in one¡¯s path, talent and fate played a much larger role than anyone would admit. He¡¯d seen it. When he¡¯d attended the academy in Catherton, and when he¡¯d spent his days toiling away in the mage¡¯s guild, he¡¯d seen genius¡¯ master spells forms in days where it took him weeks. Too many times he¡¯d heard his superiors congratulating them on their ¡®hard work¡¯ while ignoring that they had barely needed to put in any effort at all to earn their accomplishments. Looking down to his left at Lord Walker, who was currently jogging along beside him with a somewhat confused frown on his face, Merrick was forced to reevaluate some of the conclusions that he¡¯d come to. He¡¯d joined House Walker because he wanted to be near the naturally gifted young lord. He was a unique. His abilities were not something that could be learned, copied, or even slightly emulated. No one knew where unique¡¯s abilities came from¡­ that¡¯s what made them unique. Perhaps wrongfully, he¡¯d assumed the young man¡¯s rise had been solely due to his ridiculous talents. Serving someone who was blazing through their path would help him along his own. Inspiration was a personal quality that everyone needed in their life if they wanted to push themselves forward. Following those who progressed faster than normal was a simple but effective way to help one progress faster themselves. That¡¯s why people like him followed people like Lord Walker. Merrick knew he didn¡¯t have the young man¡¯s natural advantages, but he could still learn from watching him. But looking at Lord Walker now, with fresh eyes, he wasn¡¯t sure if what he¡¯d assumed about him was all that accurate. The young lord had streaks of blood that had dried in lines down his face from his eyes along with more painting the side of his face red coming from his ears. He hadn¡¯t cleaned his armor or addressed his appearance at all. Did he want people to see how hard he¡¯d pushed himself? Was it some sort of statement? Or had it just not occurred to him to cast a simple cleaning spell, one Merrick knew for a fact that he knew? He¡¯d expected to see some impressive things when he¡¯d joined up, and he¡¯d had. Lord Walker was a natural with spell casting. And his views on path progression were as inspiring as they were revolutionary. Merrick knew that just being around the young man was already helping him push past the obstacles on his path that had been holding him back for years. But now, after seeing him casting spells in a way Merrick couldn¡¯t hope to understand, and after nearly killing himself resuscitating people who had already suffered soul death, Merrick wondered if Lord Walker¡¯s natural talents were actually secondary to his true gift. One he¡¯d earned. His determination. Merrick had long ago lost faith in the idea that a person could ¡®will¡¯ themselves further than their natural abilities allowed. But seeing Lord Walker¡¯s casual disregard for his own limits was like witnessing proof that all that he¡¯d been told as a child was in reality actually true. It was like finding out that a fable he¡¯d long ago lost faith in was real. Lord Walker must have noticed Merrick¡¯s attention as he turned to look up at him with a curious expression on his face, one which looked somewhere between annoyed and insulted. ¡°What? I already told Harry¡­ I mean Knight Angleton that I was sorry about pissing off the kobalds. If they end up deciding to follow us, I¡¯ll take care of it. Stop glaring at me or you¡¯ll end up tripping. Then who¡¯ll be the one looking like an idiot?¡± he griped before turning away from him. Merrick wasn¡¯t sure how to respond, so he just looked away and returned to his thoughts. He honestly didn¡¯t know what to feel about the young lord he¡¯d given his life oath to serve. ¡ª-- While Nero felt a little bad about forcing the entire assault force to head out early due to his admittedly poorly thought-out actions, he wasn¡¯t sure he deserved all the attention he was getting. He could feel everyone staring at him, their essence fields focused on him from wherever they were in the formation. It was annoying. The worst thing about making a mistake wasn¡¯t dealing with the actual consequences, it was dealing with the people ¡®watching¡¯ him deal with the consequences. Their judgmental looks were a pain in the ass to put up with. Normally he¡¯d just be able to ignore them, but with his newfound talent at ¡®feeling¡¯ their essence fields, he now couldn¡¯t. It was like he could feel them all thinking about him. Their confusion, awe, fear, and numerous other emotions all hovered around him like a cloud of fog. The only consolidation he had was that he wasn¡¯t able to actually read their minds. If he were able to ¡®hear¡¯ that many people questioning their decision to follow him while wondering if he¡¯d end up getting them killed, he¡¯d probably end up blowing his brains out. ¡®Huh? How do people commit suicide here without guns? They probably go old school and slit their wrists or something,¡¯ he thought to himself before shaking off that disturbingly dark line of thoughts and focusing on something else. Self-slapping his cheeks with his palms as he jogged along the tunnel, he shook himself out of his funk and put the matter behind him. There was no point in worrying about what they thought of him. Both they and he were here now, and there was nothing either of them could do about it. While his perception field was still somewhat stymied by the thick stone walls around him, he had no trouble looking around the tunnel, so he decided to pass the time while focusing on that. He could tell that the kobalds¡¯ presence had drastically altered the ambiance the original occupants had been going for when they¡¯d built the place. There was tons of crap lining the walls, some of it literal, some of it just stuff that had been left lying around. The fact that most of the essence lights were still working was a surprise, and he wondered if they had been on all this time or were only working now due to the fact that the engineers had gotten the generators back up and running. Unfortunately, he couldn¡¯t tell a lot about the humans that used to live in here, as every room they passed had been utterly ruined by the kobalds using them for whatever they wanted instead of their original purpose. As he and the rest of the assault force raced down the hallways, he saw more and more evidence of the fact that they¡¯d infested the place for years. He could only imagine what the place must have looked like back when it had been built. It had probably been awesome. But not anymore, now the place was a shithole. Perking up at the change, Nero felt it the moment the link to the Battle Hub cut off. He¡¯d been warned it would happen, so he wasn¡¯t surprised. More annoyed than anything. All its absence meant was that he couldn¡¯t pass the time browsing the Thought Hub which he hadn¡¯t been doing anyway. He cursed himself for forgetting about that being an option. At the edges of his perception field, he could see the front of the formation occasionally meeting up with scouts and smaller teams whom they met at a run. He even noticed Cathleen and a few other people he recognized dropping by and wondered what they had been up to. The only guess he could come up with was that they had been busy clearing the tunnels in front of them and probably scouting their path forward. Conveniently, Nero did still have access to the map of the upper city that they¡¯d sent out to everyone on their links. He¡¯d at least been smart enough to save a copy to his link when he¡¯d had the chance. As he thought about it, he connected to his link to see if he could figure out how much further they had to go.Ensure your favorite authors get the support they deserve. Read this novel on the original website. The moment he opened the map of the upper city, it immediately showed where he was on it. He didn¡¯t think they had GPS or anything, so he could only wonder how it knew where he was. ¡®Not the time for questions Nick isn¡¯t around to answer for me,¡¯ he reminded himself. On and on they went through the tunnels, the entire time Nero watched his position changing on the little map hovering behind his eyes through the link. While their progress through the upper city looked random, sometimes using kobald tunnels that had been dug out, other times using small or large sections of the original tunnel system, the entire time they worked their way upward. Luckily, Nero had gotten used to jogging, so he didn¡¯t feel like he was pushing himself too hard. It was a weird feeling to realize that his stamina had somehow become practically superhuman. Considering everyone else around him was equally fine with jogging for hours without a break, it made the accomplishment somewhat less impressive. In fact, as time passed, he wondered why they weren¡¯t running faster. They were on the clock after all. Eventually, as they got further into what the map called the ¡®noble district¡¯, their progress slowed even further. Nero ended up stopping along with everyone else as sections of the formation which snaked through multiple halls were forced to deal with kobalds who were trying to slow them down. He could only assume that the scout groups had run into too many kobalds and couldn¡¯t deal with them all on their own. Unfortunately, there was nothing Nero could do to help as he was stuck in the middle with the rest of the casters. All he could do was watch as kobalds threw themselves at the edges of the formation from the surrounding tunnels and were then unceremoniously cut down. Although it was somewhat interesting to get to see how different people¡¯s abilities worked. He particularly found himself interested in figuring out how a woman whose sword blade seemed to copy itself and fight on its own did what she did. He couldn¡¯t possibly understand how her ability worked. It wasn¡¯t magic, he could tell. Even looking at what she did through the ether, he could tell that the copied blades were ¡®real¡¯ and not constructs, which made watching them vanish after they stabbed through a kobald utterly confusing. ¡®Abilities are freaking weird,¡¯ he noted to himself while also wishing he¡¯d gotten one from his pillar. But on and on they went, further up the mountain. More and more impressive and imposing chambers opened up before them as they entered into what used to be the area for the rich and powerful humans who¡¯d built the place. Confusingly, fewer and fewer essence lights seemed to be working the further they got into the noble district. Nero wasn¡¯t sure if it had anything to do with the kobalds destroying them, or if it was the distance from the generators at the base of the mountain. Either way, more and more kobald torches and bonfires were springing up as they got higher. From the map he¡¯d been constantly watching change, he could see that there were multiple tunnels that the kobalds had dug to the surface of the mountain, which he could see might explain where they¡¯d gotten all the wood. Of course, seeing them begged the question as to why the army hadn¡¯t tried to use them to bypass running through the entire damn mountain to confront them. In a way, it did make sense though, as the mountain was huge, and traveling up the side of it was probably more difficult than just going through the tunnels since they were already here. They only had hours to deal with this and not days after all. It was almost surprising when they¡¯d arrived at their destination, and if hadn¡¯t been for Harry¡¯s voice echoing down the tunnel Nero wouldn¡¯t have realized it as he¡¯d been too lost in his thoughts to notice what was going on around him. ¡°Wackos of House Walker and soldiers of Dorchester! Brace yourselves for combat! Once we go in, we¡¯re not leaving until every kobald inside is dead. Watch each other''s backs and stay with the formation. Don¡¯t slow down, and don¡¯t allow yourselves to be brought down. We need to reach the throne room. Mages, the moment you see an opportunity, you know what to do! Now, Forward!¡± he shouted. Nero physically winced at the sound of Harry¡¯s voice echoing through the tunnel. The man¡¯s shout had been loud enough to shake the walls. Dust was even falling from the ceiling to make it even more dramatic. Considering that most of the formation was still in a tunnel and couldn¡¯t see anything, Nero thought the entire speech was a little over the top, but was kind enough not to say anything. It had been effective though. Nero could feel the ether trembling with the combined might of the essence fields around him coming together. Almost as if they were merging into one massive entity, Nero felt the assault force¡¯s identity take shape. From an observational perspective, it was interesting. However, being ¡®inside¡¯ it, Nero found the experience less than enjoyable. He could feel his ability to affect essence being actively hindered by their combined metaphysical weight. ¡®This world really does naturally limit magical combat during large-scale battles,¡¯ he thought to himself. It was still weird for him to see what amounted to ¡®physics¡¯ here providing logical reasons for all the stupid cliches he¡¯d always bitched about when he¡¯d read fantasy novels. It wasn¡¯t just line of sight or the possibility of friendly fire that limited mages firepower, it was the way the various magical forces all worked together. Nero couldn¡¯t help but find it both somewhat cool and annoying at the same time. But his scientifically accurate assessment of metaphysics and its applications to combat needed to be put on hold for a moment as his perception field soon allowed him his first look at what they¡¯d be facing. The front of their assault force had burst out of the 30-foot-wide tunnel into a massive hallway running horizontally to their exit. Comparing where they were physically to where they were on the map, Nero could see that they¡¯d arrived at the central corridor which led to the throne room and what used to be the administrative center of the entire city. Although Nero¡¯s perception field didn¡¯t allow him to see everything, he could tell that the kobalds had prepared themselves well to hold off any attempt at stopping them from finishing their ritual. The corridor itself was hundreds of feet wide, with the curved ceiling held up by large pillars running alongside it while the tops arched in a way that reminded Nero of cathedrals. At one point, the sight must have been impressive, but now it just looked sad. He could see shadows from the multiple fire pits shifting dangerously across the ceiling, covering the entire area in a sense of impending doom. Even from back where he was still in the tunnel, he could hear the screams and hisses of the kobalds shouting at one another as they prepared to defend themselves. As the assault force around him sped up to a run, Nero¡¯s attention remained focused on the edges of his perception field, watching as more and more kobalds were revealed to him. They had built disturbingly tall walls of stone with kobald archers and casters lining the top of them. He could see actual freaking towers interspersed across the wall effectively cutting the corridor in half. Nero was stunned to see such a level of construction from what he¡¯d come to know as the dumbest and most barbaric species of clone lizards that had ever lived. He could already see the front of the assault force struggling to push forward under the weight of incoming fire. Harry¡¯s ability to project shields was impressive, and it was soon supported by more and more mages adding their own layer of protection to the troops as they emerged from the tunnel. However, Nero could see that it was somewhat ridiculous to imagine that their paltry number of troops had any chance of getting through the kobald¡¯s impressive defenses. It took less than a few minutes before Nero himself was finally out of the tunnel and was able to finally get his first look with his eyes at what the kobalds had built. He was still in the middle of the formation, and he could see that it was quickly becoming a large circular arrangement of troops with the mages in the center providing the overhead shield while everyone else cowered underneath in a massive clump. Gritting his teeth, Nero felt at a loss as to how he could help. Their forward progress had basically halted for the first time in hours, and going from a steady jog to a slow walk forward made it feel as though they¡¯d been stopped cold by the kobalds. The more he saw with his perception field, the more he felt like his stomach was churning. There were too many kobalds to count, and too many of them weren¡¯t clones. He could tell. There was real intelligence behind their beedy little eyes as they stared out over their walls with their hate-filled gazes. As the shields over his head flashed with multicolored hues due to spell fire and arrows raining down from above, Nero heard shouts of orders being called out with panic. He could tell that the mages were struggling, and the essence around him was trembling with his companion¡¯s growing terror. Nero knew that something had to change and that the kobald¡¯s wall needed to be brought down in order for them to get anywhere, and he knew just how to do it. Using his trusty spell form to raise himself up a little on an earthen pillar, he raised his head above the formation for a better look at what he¡¯d be facing. He could see the towers spread out across the wall and the numerous kobalds lining the top firing down at them. They were difficult to make out, as the shield over his head was opaque when it was actively defending them. All he saw were flashes and brief glimpses of what they were headed toward as they slowly pushed forward. He was careful to remove the pillars under his feet as he raised them up and then lowered them down when he stepped off them so he wouldn¡¯t stumble the people behind him. While he couldn¡¯t target the center of the wall due to the shield, he thought he might be able to bring it down by destroying its base and letting gravity do the rest. He just needed to get closer. Reaching out with his essence field, he collapsed as much essence as he could to prepare his spell¡¯s fuel source. He didn¡¯t bother with a mage shield just yet, as this wasn¡¯t a time to be practicing. Instead, he focused on creating as powerful a spell shell chucker as he could. He¡¯d personally developed the spell form over several battles, and he figured it was the pinnacle of what he¡¯d become capable of. Based on what he¡¯d seen it do, it should be more than enough to bring down the kobald¡¯s puny little wall. Reaching out, Nero felt for the soul stuff he needed to charge it¡­ and found barely anything. He could feel that there was a ritual being fueled by sacrificed kobalds going on in the distance, but it was so powerful that it was sucking up all the juice he needed to empower his spell. Without that soul stuff, he didn¡¯t have enough potential to fuel the kind of destruction he¡¯d need to bring down that wall. He was fucked. They were fucked. ¡®Well, this isn¡¯t good,¡¯ he thought to himself with a frown. Chapter 268 - Great... a riddle. The meeting with the Council of Leadership and the rest of the nobles had gone even worse than he¡¯d expected it to. And that was saying something considering how low his expectations had been to begin with. Between the weaker nobles who were ready to flee Dorchester and wait for the kingdom to refound it, the pragmatists who were more concerned with positioning themselves in the eyes of the expected auditors, and the few who were more concerned with assigning blame for the disaster than dealing with it, all he¡¯d been able to do was deploy his subcommanders to answer their questions and retreat. He had more important matters to attend to than wasting words with the nobility who¡¯d already accepted defeat. Namely finding out why in the damned hells there were dwarven Battleborns among the Mithrilstrike clan, and why no one had known about them. Unable to stop his shoulders from slumping from the stress he was under, Commander Dahl tried and failed to keep his tone cordial as he attempted another angle. ¡°I understand that you cannot comment on the fall of your previous kingdom, but you must understand that you violated the terms of the treaty by not disclosing the Battleborns in your citizen registry. Without that treaty, you and your people have no right to found your city anywhere within the bounds of Oglivarch.¡± Sitting across from Commander Dahl at the table, Crusher looked bored more than anything. The commander didn¡¯t know whether the dwarf was being intentionally obtuse or if he really wasn¡¯t concerned about the political ramifications of what was going on. Idly picking out some earwax from his ear before glancing at it with annoyance and flicking it off his fingers, Crusher replied, ¡°First of all, it¡¯s not my kingdom, it¡¯s me king¡¯s. How am I s¡¯posed to know everyone who¡¯s still aligned with the clan? And the other thing¡­ the second thing that is¡­ You should be thankin¡¯ whatever god¡¯s ye be praying to that they''re here, otherwise we¡¯d all end up on some miserable fire plane trying to find a way to reverse the anchoring ritual. Don¡¯t know about you, but I¡¯d rather not be spending the next century picking kobalds out of me armor while the runed priests argue about how best to go about it.¡± Rubbing his temples in pain, Commander Dahl asked, ¡°The treaty, Sir Crusher. What about the treaty and the fact that Clan Mithrilstrike didn¡¯t disclose the presence of the Battleborns?¡± Crusher looked across the table with a confused expression on his face. ¡°What about it?¡± he asked innocently. Commander Dahl felt his fists clench with rage as he glared at the unhelpful little monster sitting across from him. ¡°As the current dwarven ambassador between our two cities, I need you to answer the question,¡± he replied through a clenched jaw, practically spitting out the words. Crusher seemed to realize that Commander Dahl was reaching the end of his limited patience. Therefore, he held up both his hands like he was trying to calm an unruly child. ¡°Easy there. No need to rip yer beard out, or whatever it is you humans do since you prefer shaving. While I can¡¯t speak for me king on this matter, I have a pretty good idea as to what happened.¡± Suddenly becoming uncharacteristically serious, Crusher leaned forward to stare the Commander in the eye. ¡°When our kingdom fell, and no I won¡¯t be discussing that, it was true that we lost our Battleborns. It was a dark time and we were left with very little hope since tha kings weren¡¯t willing to get off their thrones and help us¡­ but that is neither here nor there. We managed to save who we could. Many of the noncombatants became immigrants among the other clans, spread out between the greater cities. Even with our losses, our numbers were too great to all stay in one place. Yet we all remembered who we were, and knew that one day we¡¯d rebuild. Not a single dwarf forsook their oaths and joined another clan. Not any true dwarfs that is¡­ there were a few clay-cursed fools who-¡± he grumbled in anger before his speech faltered into a string of incomprehensible dwarven curses. Seeing as Crushing was getting distracted with his ranting, Commander Dahl interrupted him, ¡°The Battleborns, Sir Crusher!¡± Snapping out of it, Crusher slapped his palm down on the table and exclaimed, ¡°Right! The Battleborns! And stop calling me ¡®sir¡¯, it¡¯s distracting.¡± Rolling his shoulders and refocusing on what he¡¯d been trying to say, Crusher continued, ¡°Ye see, we were spread out, not knowing who was still living and who¡¯d been called to the stone. But we remembered who we were. So when the call went out that ¡®ole King Mithrilstrike was rebuilding his kingdom, every one of us picked up our lives and came running. Were probably just luck that a few of the old Battleborns were still hiding out somewhere and happened to hear the call. While I weren¡¯t there when they showed up, I bet the king was mighty happy to see them. I bet ya some of them were among the ones who raised him. Prolly quite the reunion.¡± Commander Dahl didn¡¯t believe a word of it but was unwilling to be the one to call the dwarf a liar to his face. ¡°You are aware that they can¡¯t stay here, right? Aside from your king, who has agreed to not personally involve himself in the day-to-day operations of your kingdom, our region isn¡¯t rated for anyone over level 70 to take action. When your king signed the treaty, he agreed to follow the laws of Oglivarch as a subsidiary of King Oglivarch himself. He retained the title of King as a courtesy, but that does not make him above the law,¡± Commander Dahl declared. He hated that he needed to be the one to stop the dwarves from deploying the Battleborns, as they would no doubt end the kobald¡¯s ritual in quick order and then return to their mountain without issue. However, the last thing he needed was an investigation from the Tower of Law and a thousand-odd law bringers teleporting in from the capital sticking their noses into everything and causing panic. Few things called down the wrath of the bureaucrats like interference in the development of a city. Were they were to lose their city¡¯s charter, it would be best if it were because of something they did rather than something they let happen. Crusher didn¡¯t seem concerned at all and merely leaned back in his chair offering Commander Dahl a grin. ¡°Well, I never read the treaty meself, but I sure as shit doubt me king agreed to anything of the sort. But, ye¡¯ll have to take it up with him. And if ye feel the need to stop the Battleborns from ¡®interfering with your city¡¯s development¡¯ or whatever you keep blathering on about, then ye¡¯ll just have to stop them. I wish ye the best of luck with that if ye head down that tunnel though, just let me know so I can find a sturdy table to hide under while ye do.¡± ¡ª-- Nero was no stranger to the feeling of essence not cooperating with him. When he played with new spell form configurations or altered the way he looked at the essence flows to better understand the world around him, he¡¯d become used to the strange and incomprehensible nature of essence in general. But somehow, what he was seeing with the soul stuff was different. It wasn¡¯t behaving like anything he¡¯d seen before. There was no doubt that there was soul stuff floating around, he could kind of see it, sort of. He just couldn¡¯t interact with it. It was¡­ ignoring him. Nearly stumbling off the small pillars he¡¯d raised up under his feet, Nero dismissed them and returned to the ground. He also dismissed his spell form for his spell-shell-chucker as there was no point in maintaining it if he couldn¡¯t power the damned thing. If he couldn¡¯t figure out what was happening, he very much doubted any of them would be getting out of this chamber alive. Well, they might¡­ probably¡­ if they turned around right now and evacuated into the tunnel leaving the kobalds to their ritual. However, sensing the enormous desire to push forward coupled with their dread, Nero couldn¡¯t see the Wacko¡¯s agreeing to that. Their essence fields were overlapping in self-reinforcing loop which had them racing forward toward their deaths like it was their only option. Even when he reached out to hopefully join the personalized command channel that had been set up between the team leaders, Nero couldn¡¯t feel anything other than determination and a desire to reach the wall. With no other option, Nero was resigned to stumbling forward along with the rest of the formation and praying that he wouldn¡¯t be run over if and when he eventually tripped. He felt powerless, and it was not a pleasant feeling. No, it was not. Unable to do anything else, he focused the entirety of his senses on the ether, trying to understand what he was looking at. As he squinted with his metaphysical sight, he could see the soul stuff floating around. It wasn¡¯t all that dense, but it was there. Interestingly, he felt like he could get impressions of where it had come from the longer he interacted with it. No doubt, those impressions were how he¡¯d come to the conclusion that they had come from ritual sacrifices to empower the ritual. His perception field allowed him to see the open area of the chambers they were moving forward through, and he could only guess that this area used to house a ton of kobalds. There were clear signs of campfires and broken-down shelters. Had he not known what to look for, he would have missed the signs, but they were there. Between the evidence of their former existence and the soul stuff he was seeing in the air, Nero was able to draw a few conclusions. Most likely, the kobalds had collected the entirety of their local population up here before evacuating them behind their wall. Many of them had probably been sacrificed to create the wall itself, and the soul stuff he was seeing in the ether might be all that was left of them. There was probably a ritual around here somewhere that they¡¯d either broken down or hidden.Stolen story; please report. But what didn¡¯t make sense was why the soul stuff was ignoring his influence. It was like it was there, but it also was not. It was like it was refusing to listen to him. He hadn¡¯t felt anything like it since¡­ ¡®Wait! That¡¯s it. This is just like the feeling I had when someone stripped my influence from the ether. I couldn¡¯t interact with the essence flows at all, and it was even a pain the ass to figure out how to see them,¡¯ he thought to himself. Above his head, the shield being held up by the mages continued to struggle under the onslaught coming down on them, and Nero could feel the mages alongside him faltering. Every foot forward seemed to sap them of their will to continue. Nero knew this couldn¡¯t go on, but at least they were getting closer to the wall. He could only hope that Harry and Cathleen had a plan for when they got there. Putting his concerns about their life expectancy aside for the moment, Nero returned to his contemplations. Wiping the sweat from his brow, he mentally worked through the problem. The issue was simple, the soul stuff in the ether wasn¡¯t responding to him, and without that soul stuff, he couldn¡¯t imbue enough potential into his spells without killing himself by draining his center. So, he either needed to find a way to interact with the soul stuff or find another way to power his spells. The soul stuff was from kobalds, and it had already been claimed. How? Probably the ritual. Could he disrupt it from here? Or maybe at least interact with it? Reaching out, Nero scanned the essence flows for a clue. He manipulated and futzed with his sight, altering his perception in as many ways as he could think of. One moment, he was seeing the essence flows in the typical way he¡¯d become used to, the next, he was seeing the connections spread out in a web showing him currently active command channels. Then, he focused on the soul stuff floating ¡®under¡¯ it all. His metaphysical sight was like one of those weird old-timey goggles with various lenses that altered what he was looking at. ¡®It¡¯s just like that Nicolas Cage movie¡­ the one with the Declaration of Independence¡­ National Idiocy or Treasure Seekers or something? Not the time, man,¡¯ he chided himself before refocusing on what he was looking at. Separating the various ways he was able to see the world around him was stressing his mind, and he could feel like he was causing his brain to overheat. Ignoring the problem, he doubled down and pushed his sight further. The essence flows were humming, each one being influenced by multiple essence fields along with their own currents. Interwoven between them were the mental connections and the other emotions from people radiating out in waves of their own. It was a confusing mess of interconnected forces that all influenced each other and altered the ether on both a macro and micro level. The more he looked, the more he saw. There were so many levels and ways to look at the ether that it was giving him a headache. His lone influence was like a tiny lever trying and failing to find a place to insert itself. Nero struggled to understand why he was having so much trouble with the soul stuff, he had no trouble influencing the essence flows themselves. Mentally ¡®surrounding¡¯ one of the little balls of soul stuff with his presence, he tried to wedge his perception closer. It was like trying to grip an oiled ball of gelatin, but every second he stayed in contact with it improved his understanding of it. The soul stuff was a remnant of potential left here after the kobald, who¡¯d nurtured it over his short and unimpressive life, had died. But the difference between it and the soul stuff he¡¯d interacted with before became clear in a blindingly strong explosion of understanding. The kobald had known what it had been dying for and had been more than okay with it. It had dedicated its soul to the ritual, imbuing it with a purpose of its own. It was like an enchantment, being powered by the soul stuff itself. It had and still did ¡®want¡¯ to go to the ritual. If Nero wanted to be able to use it, he¡¯d have to overcome its desire to be used for the ritual which would completely defeat the purpose of what he¡¯d be using it for. It would take center and effort to reforge it, and Nero doubted it would be worth it. He could just tell the net gain in potential would be practically nothing. Growling in annoyance, Nero recognized an inherent flaw with his use of soul stuff. He needed the people and sentients who died to not care what their soul stuff was being used for. All it would take to counter him was the knowledge that he could use their soul stuff to empower his spells. Even just the feeling of not wanting their souls to be used for a purpose at their time of death would be enough to counter him. So, how did the kobalds usually overcome the problem? Was it like an information campaign where they kept their plans secret from their subordinates, or maybe brainwashing? And how were the kobalds able to use human souls if all it took was the humans to die without worrying about what their souls would be used for? Suddenly, Nero had a disturbing thought. Were the humans just being idiots? Had they just ¡®accepted¡¯ that they had no control of their souls after they¡¯d died? By believing that the kobalds could use their souls for their spells, were they themselves responsible for giving them the power to do so? It was a horrible thought and one that aligned with everything he¡¯d learned about the world he¡¯d found himself in. This world was all about perception and the very literal imbueing of meaning into essence to create matter. Hell, the only reason there was a floor under his feat, or air for him to breathe was because the essence had been given an identity detailing how it was supposed to function. ¡®What a mind-fuck,¡¯ he thought to himself before setting it aside to stress over later. Understanding the reality he¡¯d found himself and isolating the problem he was dealing with would not help him solve the issue with the wall, his inability to use the soul stuff, or the fact that he was currently only alive because the mages were holding back hundreds of kobald spells. He needed to come up with some options, and he was running out of time. While he couldn¡¯t see it with his eyes, he was able to witness the moment the front line of the formation arrived at the wall. Harry had led them to one of the gates and slammed into it with both his magical and physical shields. Multiple other shield-bearing fighters hit it right alongside him. It was a coordinated assault that shook the ground as much as the wall. Unfortunately, the gate itself refused to budge and the entire formation collapsed on top of itself. One after another, people ran into the person in front of them. The only positive was that it reduced the number of kobalds who had a clear line of sight for their spells. Nero could see the entire formation flattening against the wall, the mages spreading out to cover everyone. Letting himself follow the flow, Nero stumbled forward to approach the wall nearly 50 ft from the gate on the right. While the mages kept the shields up, they were now much more spread out. It was both an improved position as much as a liability since the more they spread out under the wall the fewer kobalds could see them but there were also fewer mages to defend them. As a result, they weren¡¯t fairing any better than when they were all grouped together out in the open. Opening his eyes wide in horror, Nero saw several groups of kobalds begin dragging giant cauldrons of something toward the edges. ¡®Shit! They¡¯re going to drop hot oil or something! If it¡¯s not a construct, would the shields even do anything?¡¯ he mentally screamed in panic. His perception field was both a blessing and a curse as he could see so much happening but had no power to influence it. Many of the melee fighters were still whacking away at the gate while the rest of the approximately three hundred soldiers hid under the mages'' protection. Terrified and out of options, Nero shoved his way through the tightly packed crowd and shuffled himself up next to the wall. ¡®This fucking thing is coming down, one way or another,¡¯ he promised himself. Wild-eyed but determined, Nero placed both his hands on the wall and focused. He blocked off his perception field, thanking whatever god was watching that there didn¡¯t seem to be a cauldron of death hovering directly over him. He needed time to come up with a plan. Everything but the rough and pitted sensation of the wall under his palms fell away as he closed his eyes and focused. His entire being was turned toward understanding the wall¡­ nothing else mattered. His senses showed him the wall¡¯s identity. He could see how it was woven from multiple essences and imbued with a purpose. It was an almost living being with a desire to fulfill its destiny. He could see the memory of the kobalds working on it. They had spent days imbuing it with essence, reinforcing and shaping its identity. It was solid and real. It is just as real as the ground, and nothing at all like a simple construct. In time, the world would understand that it was supposed to be here, and would become a permanent fixture in reality. But, it hadn¡¯t been here long enough yet, and it was still malleable¡­ sort of. Having an idea, Nero began infusing his will into the stone, urging it to change. He felt like he was pushing against a¡­ wall¡­ an unfortunate pun if there ever was one. It was clear as day that he needed more power, more potential, otherwise he¡¯d drain his entire center long before he managed to affect it. Reaching out into the ether, he awkwardly tried to request the soul stuff to help him ¡®fix¡¯ the wall. He didn¡¯t specifically try to connect with any of the remnants, instead, he just urged them toward the wall. It was their wall. They were kobalds. They should help fix it. Nero could almost sense the confusion radiating throughout the area as the soul stuff considered whether or not to help. In a burst of devious insight, Nero projected the desire to create a gate, infusing the ether with his desire to copy the stone formation of an open gate without the door. The door itself would come later, now he just needed the stone to reshape itself. Checking his identity, he winced at the fact that his center had already dropped below 90%. He wasn¡¯t even sure what he did, but whatever he¡¯d done, it had worked. He could already see the soul stuff begin merging with the wall in front of him. It looked like a slight breeze was pulling in all the soul remnants, and all he needed to do was convince the wall that there should in fact be an open gate here. His eyes remained closed, and he couldn¡¯t be sure that it was working as well as he¡¯d hoped, but he didn¡¯t want to break his concentration. He continued to project his desire for a gate, praying that the stone under his fingers would comply. Then, almost as if the stone was evaporating, his hands were clear and he stumbled forward. Opening his eyes wide in wonder, he was faced with a legion of kobalds who were staring at him with confused and horrified expressions on their faces. There were hundreds of them, just waiting for their turn on top of the wall. Both the clones and real ones were equally dumbfounded by the appearance of the gate, every one of them paralyzed with shock. Grinning with an evil smile, Nero muttered, ¡°Well hello there.¡± Without giving them a chance to react, he pulled out his sword and shield from his personal space while summoning his mage armor. He needed some fresh souls for his spells, and he was going to enjoy claiming every one of them that he could. Chapter 269 - Do the job. Mike¡¯s life had been through quite a few changes recently. If anyone had told him that he would be putting his life on the line for the sake of the city under the orders of a noble who¡¯d he¡¯d personally sworn his entire life to, he would probably have laughed his ass off¡­ right before plotting to rob and kill the insulting bastard. Yet, here he was. Keeping his head down out of reflex rather than necessity every time a kobald spell exploded onto the shield above him, he stared wide-eyed at the kobald wall. Trying his best to keep his growing terror from overwhelming him, he maintained his quick march alongside his fellow wackos. Many of them were looking to him for reassurance, since somehow he¡¯d become something of a leader for those who Lord Walker had offered redemption. His fellow wackos had come from all walks of life. Some were former hunters with a criminal bent like him, others were guilty of more mundane crimes like tax evasion and robbery. There were even a few murderers and true social outcasts among them. But, everyone of them had pledged to follow Lord Walker seeking their own form of redemption. They marched right alongside former guards and soldiers without shame. They were now ¡®adventurers¡¯, a term which was slowly gaining new meaning as Lord Walker¡¯s teachings continued. Much more than a job or a title, it was a way of life¡­ a path forward. Even in the few days since they¡¯d pledged, Mike knew that they had all seen growth in their identity. Under the protection of the shield above his head, he tried to focus on how far he¡¯d come, reassuring himself that following Lord Walker was the right choice. He had to. After all, there was no way out. Running off on his own wasn¡¯t an option. If he did, he¡¯d be cut down the moment he was out from under the shields. Looking over his shoulder, he could see the mages that were currently maintaining the shield over the section of the formation he was in. They looked like they were barely holding on. Sweat poured down their faces while their expressions made it clear they were in pain. There was nothing he could do to help. Lord Walker¡¯s words of wisdom echoed through his mind. ¡®Trust in the men and women fighting alongside you. They are there to protect you just as you are there to protect them. Focus on yourself and what you can do, and leave the rest up to them¡¯. As one of the team leaders, he was connected to the command channel Blackwood was maintaining. He could hear the team leaders from the mages reporting their imminent failure to keep up with the kobald¡¯s assault. ¡°We¡¯re almost there! Just hold on! Once we¡¯re through the gate, we¡¯ll be fine! Just hold!¡± ordered Knight Angleton, his tone offering no question that they would succeed. Tightening his grip on his sword, he gritted his teeth and pushed forward. They were almost there. Once inside, they could begin their counterattack. The kobalds would break. It would be hard, but they could do it. They would succeed. Seeing the wall approaching, he felt the entire formation speed up. Panting heavily in excitement, he tried to keep his heart from racing. His turn was coming, and he had to be ready. Glancing over at the head of their charge, he saw Knight Angleton and the other Wackos who had breaching abilities preparing themselves. Multicolored essence constructs manifested in front of them, each one feeling more dangerous than the last. In the center, Knight Angelton¡¯s golden shield looked like a battering ram. Time seemed to slow down as they slammed into the gate. The explosion of force was enough to rattle his bones and shake his footing, causing him to stumble. He wasn¡¯t the only one, as he could feel the pressure from behind him pushing him forward into the back of the Wacko in front of him. Regaining his equilibrium, he looked over in horror to see the gate still standing. It looked utterly unharmed¡­ as if it had no trouble stopping the best of what Knight Angelton and the breaching team could do. Mocking them for their inability to affect it. For a moment, his mind refused to accept what he was seeing. It just wasn¡¯t possible. ¡°Spread out along the wall! Cut off the angle of fire!¡± someone shouted over the command channel in panic. Mindlessly following along with the crowd, he stumbled forward under the protection of the shield above him. ¡®They failed¡­¡¯ he admitted to himself in confusion, before reluctantly accepting that they were all probably going to die. With all their mages occupied, their ability to counterattack was nonexistent. Without getting through that gate, they couldn¡¯t do anything. It was hopeless. The kobalds would wear them down until their shield failed and their losses began piling up. Clinging to his fellow Wackos along the wall, he felt his heart break as he watched them all come to the same realization that he just did. The fear of death that they¡¯d been holding back was overcoming them. He could see it in their eyes, they were giving up. He was too. He could feel it. He would die here. Locking eyes with a woman named Nora Falkner, who was one of Lord Walker¡¯s earliest adherents, he was surprised to see her looking calm and resolute in the face of their doom. She didn¡¯t look worried at all. Meeting his eyes, she muttered quietly, ¡°Lord Walker once said, ¡®Reality is what you make it¡¯. We¡¯re not going to die, we¡¯re going to win. I don¡¯t know how, but I believe it to be true. Lord Walker will show us the way forward.¡± Something in his center stirred as he felt his resolve building. It was crazy to think that they¡¯d succeed but hadn¡¯t his lord said that all adventurers were crazy. From behind him, he heard shouts of excitement and the sounds of battle ringing out. Snapping his head around as best he could with all the people pressed against him, he dropped his jaw in shock at the sight of a massive opening in the wall that hadn¡¯t been there before. It looked like a perfectly carved gate¡­ without a door. ¡°Lord Walker has opened a way through! The first teams inside get up on that wall and eliminate those casters! Melee fighters to the front!¡± a team leader¡¯s voice he didn¡¯t recognize erupted over the command channel. In awe, he promised himself that he would never doubt The Walker again. ¡ª-- Perhaps it was the fact that an entire section of the wall had vanished into the ether, or that humans had appeared out of nowhere, Nero wasn¡¯t sure and he didn¡¯t care. Whatever the cause of the kobald¡¯s paralyzing confusion, he planned to take full advantage of it. Without the need to maintain a communications link or any spells, he only needed to split his mind enough to maintain his mage armor while the majority of his attention remained on the fighting. He could fuel his shield with the souls of the kobalds he killed, or at least he hoped he could. He was already in mid-leap before he started his roar. Coming down on the kobald closest to him, Nero stabbed it through its stupid lizard-skinned snout face ensuring the quickest death possible. Before it even realized it was dead, he was already slashing at another kobald¡¯s throat while shield-bashing the one standing next to it. Behind him, he could feel the rising tide of emotion coming from the Wackos. It was a feeling of jubilation and wrath incarnate. Whatever terror and doom they¡¯d felt was vanishing like fog in the morning sun, leaving nothing but an overwhelming belief in their impending victory. It was intoxicating. Still in the grip of his first war-cry, Nero spun on his heels to block a poorly supported spear that was trying to stab him. Looking into the kobald¡¯s eyes, Nero could see that it was both terrified and confused. It had no idea what was happening and was merely reacting on instinct. There was none of the madness and rage he was used to seeing when it stared at him. It could be because it wasn¡¯t a clone, or just due to the fact that it couldn¡¯t comprehend how Nero had appeared. Either way, Nero didn¡¯t waste any time worrying about it and summarily executed it with a wave of his essence infused blade removing its head. All around him, more and more Wackos poured out of the opening behind him, overrunning the unprepared kobalds in a tide of death. Nero felt his small frame being quickly overtaken by the warriors charging through the kobald lines like a wrecking ball. He had thought his assault had been impressive, but it was nothing compared to what the rest of the Wackos were capable of.The author''s narrative has been misappropriated; report any instances of this story on Amazon. Abilities flashed left and right, reaping kobald lives by the dozens. The Wackos themselves held together in the loosest of formations, each one more interested in cutting down their enemies than maintaining their fighting lines. It was a bloodbath. While he¡¯d liked to have joined in on the fighting, he knew he¡¯d be more effective if he could get his casting working. Pausing for a moment, Nero reached out with his senses to check on the accumulating soul stuff. He wasn¡¯t sure if he needed to wait for soul death, or how the process even worked. Standing there in the middle of the battle while more and more Wackos ran past him, Nero watched as the first kobald he killed began his journey into whatever afterlife they believed in. Like he¡¯d expected, the kobalds soul remained ¡®nearby¡¯ hovering in the ether. It was both overlaid with the body in its chest, but also moving further away in the ether. If he had to describe what he was seeing, he knew he¡¯d struggle as he didn¡¯t have the vocabulary to put words to it. The closest thing he could think of was that the soul was that the ether had more than three dimensions. The soul wasn¡¯t moving up or down, but ¡®deeper¡¯ into the ether. And the further it got, the more soul stuff bled off it, coagulating into a ball of potential that was clinging to the ether, unable to follow it. Now having a new perspective as to what was happening, Nero realized his ability to see the ether was limited to the ¡®layer¡¯ he was focusing on. That¡¯s what he was doing when he flexed his ability, he was moving higher and lower in the ether, and in the furthest recesses was the wall he¡¯d seen where the souls breached the different planes. Just trying to wrap his head around the geometry of the ether was enough to make him lightheaded. Putting the spiritual implications aside for the moment, Nero focused instead on the soul stuff accumulating in front of him. He needed to know if he could use it. His working theory was that dedicated soul stuff would be out of his reach, but a soul that died without dedicating itself to a purpose was hopefully still up for grabs. Reaching out with his senses, he tentatively poked the soul stuff to see how it reacted. Sighing in relief, all he felt was confusion rolling off of it in waves. Having learned that the soul stuff still had something of an identity, he carefully prodded it to see how he might be able to use it. The kobald it had come from had died without understanding what had happened. It had been too stupid to comprehend how a human teen popped up out of nowhere and stabbed it in the face. He took a few seconds to watch it grow as the kobald¡¯s soul which spawned it got further and further away into the ether. Feeling like a scientist conducting an experiment to see what would happen, he ripped it out of its connection with the soul and dragged its potential into his mage shield. The moment he did, he could feel the defensive identity of his shield growing stronger. It went from being a struggle to maintain it to a solid defense that could probably stop a spear without affecting him. Whatever was left of the kobald¡¯s identity had no problem being given a new purpose for its potential. He¡¯d known soul stuff was powerful, but holy hell was it a big difference. Glancing back at the kobalds body, he saw that more soul stuff was already accumulating as its soul continued on its journey. For a brief moment, he wondered what would happen if he resuscitated it¡­ would it lose levels or growth? Where was all this extra potential being stored? Feeling himself being jostled by a Wacko running by him, Nero snapped out of his trance. Blinking a few times to resettle his focus back in his body, he looked around to see a distinctly different sight than what he¡¯d seen before he¡¯d closed his eyes. Looking up behind him, he could see Wackos moving in groups to take over the top of the wall. They were mercilessly cutting down the kobald casters, having no trouble handling them in small numbers. More than once, he saw kobald spells splashing harmlessly against their essence shields, their ability to cause harm on their own not enough to overcome the Wacko¡¯s level advantage. Apparently, even kobald casters were only dangerous in groups. But not everything was going their way, as he could see healers and mages working together to create a temporary safe space near the opening to collect the wounded and dead. He wasn¡¯t sure how long he¡¯d been standing there in the middle of the pile of kobalds staring at the ether, but it had been long enough for people to have begun dying. Luckily, the healers were on it, and Wackos were already being brought back. Turning back to the battle, Nero saw that chaos was currently reigning in the kobald encampment. Throughout the area around him, Wackos were knocking down kobald mud huts and ripping through poorly organized groups of kobalds that were trying to organize a coordinated defense. Off in the distance, he could see larger buildings which were probably housing more of the kobald upper castes. They looked like giant rounded mudballs with holes in them for kobalds to look out of. There were firepits and torches all over the place for light, but the overall aesthetic was drab as everything was made out of earth. But, further past all that, he could see the throne room doors reaching up to the ceiling. They must have required teams to open them. Even from the distance he was at, he could see that they were intricately carved and plated in gold. They looked old, and out of place in stark contrast to the kobald earthen architecture. The kobalds had done a hell of a job defiling the place. Realizing that he was no longer under a mage shield, Nero frowned in confusion for a moment as he wasn¡¯t being pelted with spells. He was surprised to see the kobald casters hesitating to fire spells at him. Running his eyes along the top of the wall, he could see that they were too busy trying to stay alive than casting anything. The Wackos were running them down in short order. The kobalds had bet everything on their wall, and now they were paying the price for its failure to stop them. Using a quick spell form to raise himself up onto a pillar, Nero began collecting what soul stuff he could to charge a few spell shells. Off in the distance, he could see the kobalds beginning to organize a counterattack, and he felt like he should disabuse them of that notion. Interestingly, he could tell that a great deal of the soul stuff was still out of his control. If he looked closely, he could see that many of the souls had left an imprint of hatred toward humanity and a desire to be used against them. ¡®They must be the souls of actual kobalds and not the stupid clones,¡¯ he thought to himself. The only conclusion he could come to was that the kobald clones were specifically designed to be the perfect sacrifices. Unfortunately, or fortunately, there weren¡¯t too many free human souls floating around for him to make a comparison. It was entirely likely that the soul stuff he¡¯d previously used from humans only worked because they also desired to strike out at the kobalds. He was sure he was missing a great deal about how it all worked, but he figured he was beginning to understand the gist of it. There was probably a way for soul casting to use soul stuff against its desires, but it would probably end up causing problems. Perhaps that¡¯s why soul casting was considered so dangerous. Didn¡¯t Nick or somebody mention something about soul magic causing ¡®corruption¡¯ or something? No matter, Nero had plenty of free range kobald clone soul stuff to work with. Standing on his pillar right in front of the newly formed hole in the wall, Nero began charging the spell forms he attached to his shoulders. Reaching out, he collapsed more essence into his collection, ensuring he had plenty of essence to work with. With a grin, he looked out onto the battlefield and picked his targets. From his higher vantage point, he could see where the kobalds were regrouping. ¡®Perfect,¡¯ he thought to himself. His grin widening, he began launching spell shells one after another. With the amount of soul stuff he was collecting, his shell constructs were solid enough to act like mortar shells. The kobalds hadn¡¯t thought to set up their own shields just yet, and they were laughably unprepared for his shell¡¯s arrival. One after another, the shells exploded among them in a dazzling display of carnage. His shells flew quickly, and several were in the air before the first had even landed. Kobald defenses shattered, and bodies erupted in gore reminiscent of the more historically accurate World War II movies he¡¯d once enjoyed. It was glorious. The entire battlefield erupted in a cheer from the Wackos, their exuberance filling the ether with their emotions. Behind him, the last of the Wackos were making their way through the hole he had opened. They had successfully created a beachhead beyond the wall, and they were now digging in. But Nero could already tell it would only be temporary. They were not intending to stay there. As the newly healed Wackos were heading back out, Nero could hear over the command channel Harry and Cathleen calling out orders. Wiping out the kobalds wasn¡¯t their mission, stopping the ritual in the throne room¡­ that¡¯s why they were here. Nero half listened to what they were saying as he continued to funnel soul stuff into his spell forms. Despite how many kobalds the Wackos had cut down, there wasn¡¯t nearly enough to let him truly unleash the kind of damage he¡¯d wanted to, but it was still enough for him to feel like he was contributing. Considering how spread out the Wackos were now, he was forced to carefully choose his targets. He also had to account for the few kobalds that were willing to brave the Wackos¡¯ reprisals by firing arrows and spells at him. While being on the pillar he¡¯d raised up provided a great firing position, it also made him stand out. If it weren¡¯t for him constantly feeding soul stuff into his mage armor, he¡¯d be a pin cushion by now or a block of charcoal. Fighting as a mage in battle was a lot more complicated than he thought it would be. There was the need to carefully pick his spell targets, having to maintain his defenses, and the constant worry that he¡¯d run out of resources. It was no wonder that mages were predominantly responsible for shields and support. In truth, it was kind of a big pain in the ass and it made him want to just run off on his own and let loose. But, he kept at it. He knew he was more useful to the assault as a strategic weapon taking out kobalds in groups while waiting for opportunities. He could even serve as a beacon for the kobald¡¯s fire while standing stupidly on his pillar like a target. While his individual kill count suffered, the overall progress of the assault was what mattered. As more and more kobalds retreated toward the throne room door and the larger kobald buildings, the fighting in the area began to die down. Before long, the Wackos were ordered to regroup so they could push forward. Nero was able to take one last look at the building in the distance before he lowered himself down to the ground. He was already looking forward to tearing them down. Chapter 270 - Orders? What orders? Former Captain in the Dorchester Army Knight Harold Angleton, known as Knight Angleton to his subordinates, Harold to his friends, and Harry to his lord physically recoiled from the mental pain he felt when he bounced off the gate. He, along with many other Wackos with appropriate abilities, had hit the hells be damned thing at a run, fully expecting to obliterate it. The amount of force they¡¯d applied should have been more than enough to tear it off its hinges. And yet, the gate still stood implacably before them. Blinking away the blinding headache from his abilities backlash, he glanced around to see the Wackos who¡¯d joined him weren¡¯t fairing much better. Abilities were not spells, and they were not techniques. They were each an expression of a person¡¯s soul. It was a material representation of their pillar. Rather than relying exclusively on essence, abilities were instead fueled by a person¡¯s will. That they worked that way was scientific proof that forging one¡¯s will could reduce the cost of spells. There was still a cost in center, but not nearly as much as it would be if the same effect were caused by magic. The drawback to this was of course that when they failed, the backlash was much worse. Doing his best to not dwell on how many troops were suddenly out of the fight, he forced his mind to set aside the pain for a moment so that he could think. Luckily, he had maintained his connection to the command channel. He could hear Battle Leader Averett shouting out orders to spread out under the wall. She had instantly adapted to his failure and taken control of the situation. She was proving to be a most impressive leader. Sheathing his sword, he placed his hand on the gate. Closing his eyes, he sent his will into the stone, trying to understand what had happened. He could feel the gate offering resistance. It had been enchanted. It had been specifically enchanted against humans. The kobalds had sacrificed the stone''s ability to stop almost anything else BUT humans. A simple wild boar would probably be able to knock it down. As long as that boar wasn¡¯t doing it with the intention of allowing humans through behind it. Opening his eyes in shock, he unconsciously stepped back from the gate and stared at it in amazement. He¡¯d never seen such a powerful enchantment before. Conceptual enchantments of this level weren¡¯t able to hold together in such an essence-starved region as Dorchester. Within less than a week, the stone would return to simply being stone. But they didn¡¯t have a week. They didn¡¯t have time to wait for nature to take its course, they needed through the gate NOW. ¡®But how?¡¯ he wondered. Knight Angleton ignored the sounds of spells exploding from above him, along with the grumbling sounds of Wackos impotently smashing at the gate with their shields. Yet, he could feel the pressure mounting. If they didn¡¯t get through this gate, their mission was over. At 71 years old, and at an impressive level 53, he¡¯d long since learned how to deal with obstacles in his path. Whether it was politically motivated superiors interfering, or training plateaus that annoyingly halted his progress, he knew that he had to find a way to accept the situation and adapt. ¡®If we can¡¯t go through, perhaps we could go over?¡¯ he thought to himself as he looked up through the hazy shield being maintained over his head. Thinking quickly, he began mentally preparing the orders he¡¯d need to give out. First, he¡¯d have to bring together whatever mages were capable of manipulating the earth. The others would just have to persevere and figure out a way to maintain the shield on their own. Then - ¡°Lord Walker has opened a way through! The first teams inside get up on that wall and eliminate those casters! Melee fighters to the front!¡± former Sergeant Richardson shouted over the command channel. Opening his eyes wide in surprise, he whipped his head to the right as he watched the entire formation begin funneling through a confusing hole in the wall that hadn¡¯t existed up until just now. ¡®How in all the planes above and below did he manage that?¡¯ he wondered. ¡ª-- As he was still near the hole he¡¯d opened in the wall, Nero had rejoined the formation quickly. It would still be a few more minutes before the rest of the Wackos arrived. In the meantime, the only productive thing for him to do was to test the range of his spells. No one could fault him for that, right? Putting action to his thoughts, he ignored the sight of the Wackos patting each other on the back and congratulating each other on their survival while raising himself back up on a small four-foot-tall pillar. His spell-casting process continued to refine as he reached out to collect and condense essence and soul stuff before launching a spell shell arbitrarily off into the distance. His mental perception field struggled to keep up with it as it flew threw the air into the dense collection of kobald buildings. He hadn¡¯t taken the time to carefully pick a target, more interested in comparing what he saw with what he¡¯d read about how spell constructs were affected by distance from their caster. Just as the books had warned, he could see the shell already breaking down. While at a distance of a football field, the shell still had plenty of cohesion as it was still inside his observation range, the moment he lost sight of it with his senses and relied on tracking it with his eyes, he saw it come apart. Far in the distance above the buildings, he saw its glow disappear into the ether without even the slightest hint of an explosion¡­ the essence he¡¯d spent on it utterly wasted. ¡®Huh,¡¯ he thought to himself as he stroked his chin in thought. He could reasonably assume that if he were to imbue a LOT of soul stuff into it, the shell would likely hold together. After all, he¡¯d done it before when he¡¯d been assaulting the kobald camp up on the surface of the mountain. But, at that time, he¡¯d had so much soul stuff to work with he hadn¡¯t been paying too much attention to how much he¡¯d been using. ¡®This is going to take some experimentation,¡¯ he thought to himself before once again lamenting the fact that Nick hadn¡¯t come along. Beginning his first test fire, he carefully began imbuing soul stuff into a shell. However, before he could materialize and fire it, he was interrupted by the gruff voice of Harry shouting up at him. ¡°Lord Walker, Did whatever you do to get through the wall provide you with any intelligence that we need to address before we push forward?¡± he asked tersely. Blinking in confusion at the question, Nero replied, ¡°Um¡­. No?¡± Offering Nero a quick nod in thanks, Harry turned and shouted, ¡°Everyone! We¡¯re moving out at a run. Without access to the Battle Hub, we¡¯re cut off from the updated intelligence from the Tower of Magic¡¯s scrying mages. So, we¡¯ll just have to deal with whatever the enemy has come up with. Keep in formation. Stay under the shields. Remember, our goal is to stop the ritual. We can kill the enemy to a kobald AFTER we¡¯ve accomplished our mission.¡± Stepping up alongside him, Cathleen added in a voice just as professionally uncompromising as his own, ¡°As you¡¯ve seen, many of these kobalds are not the stupid grunts you¡¯re used to facing. Pay attention to your footing and don¡¯t get drawn out in fights that will leave you out of position. STAY IN FORMATION. Melee fighters will maintain the perimeter with their shields while the mages keep us safe from above with their own.¡± Nodding in agreement with her, Harry picked his speech back up. ¡°The gate to the throne room should still be enchanted to allow us through with the command override signature we¡¯ve been given. The mages back in command agreed that the kobalds haven¡¯t been able to break the enchantment, so they¡¯ve been ignoring it. It¡¯s tied to the land of Dorchester and has existed since the time of its founding. They couldn¡¯t hope to breach it, and therefore won¡¯t expect it when we do. The kobalds are most likely expecting us to use one of the smaller side entrances that they assume are the only way into the throne room. The moment those gates open, they¡¯ll throw everything they have at us.¡± Cathleen¡¯s voice got even colder, as her tone felt like it was chilling the very ether. ¡°After we¡¯re in, prioritize killing off the ritual casters. We¡¯ll take up position over the former ritual center and then begin our slaughter in earnest. Remember¡­ Deal with the ritual first, then kill them all.¡± Without another word, she and Harry turned and began walking away toward the front of the formation, the Wackos in the way parting around them. Nero winced as the combined sound of raucous cheering erupted from all around him. While Harry and Cathleen had been shouting out their orders, he¡¯d dismissed his pillar spell and returned to the ground. He was once again amongst the mass of soldiers and no longer standing out. Nero played along as he held up his fist and cheered along with them. He¡¯d found it was more than a little impressive to hear Harry and Cathleen shouting loud enough for everyone to hear them, but it was even more impressive to hear how impressively LOUD hundreds of shoulders braying for blood could sound when they all did it in tandem. The ether was filled with their presence, coming together in a coordinated sense of oppression that practically demanded his essence field to mingle along with theirs. It took everything Nero had to not let his sense of identity fall away and just give in and join them. He wasn¡¯t sure how, but he succeeded. For the time being, his mind remained his own. Which worked out, because he absolutely didn¡¯t want to get stuck in the middle of the formation again. He planned on causing some chaos, and he could only do that if he managed to stay near the edges. Ducking under the shoulders of the Wackos around him, he slipped through the crowd toward the forward edge on the right. Being there should allow him to do some damage while leaving some destruction burning behind him. The tricky thing would be to stay out of sight, as his smaller presence wasn¡¯t all that inconspicuous. But, he had just the trick to overcome that particularly annoying little obstacle. With a flex of will, he dimmed his presence in the ether, allowing himself to blend into the background. He couldn¡¯t help but try and see if he could apply soul stuff to the process, hopefully making it easier. As he dipped and ducked around the Wackos who remained unaware of his presence, he tried over and over again to find a way to infuse soul stuff into the technique. He¡¯d managed to imbue plenty of it into his mage armor, and at this point, it was practically maintaining itself. However, the hiding technique he¡¯d learned from watching Cathleen, Rose, and the Evaluators didn¡¯t seem to have anything to latch onto. It wasn¡¯t a spell, so there was nothing to reinforce. It was a product of his mind, and therefore not something that could be fueled by potential. It didn¡¯t even stress his center. Well not directly at least. ¡®Well, I could do that I guess,¡¯ he thought to himself as he checked his center reserves. 79%. Unauthorized content usage: if you discover this narrative on Amazon, report the violation. Reaching out with his field, he collected some free-floating soul stuff. He ignored the remnant minds that were basically emotional leftovers and fed them into his center. Like always, it took a little effort, but he managed to overwrite their potential with his own. Smiling widely, he felt his center being reinforced. What was once the potential of the kobalds was now simply HIM. Nero still found the entire concept of a person¡¯s ¡®center¡¯ odd. He understood that it was what made him ¡®real¡¯, and was the core from which his material presence stemmed, but the fact that he could conceivably argue that people were nothing more than enchantments still weirded him out. ¡®Whatever. It¡¯ll just make the ¡®Express Yourself¡¯ T-shirts I eventually sell all the more relevant,¡¯ he said to himself. Before long, he found himself right behind the front lines, watching them get ready to go. Everyone was moving around quickly, re-tightening their armor and pumping themselves up for the coming run to the throne room. There was a palpable sense of excitement floating around, and Nero did his best to not allow himself to get caught up in it. He knew he needed to remain focused and separate from the larger essence field to successfully cast anything. Without his isolated essence reserves, their combined essence field would have a stranglehold on the essence flows. Regardless of how mentally strong he was, he couldn¡¯t hope to overcome the combined metaphysical might of the entire group. ¡°MOVE OUT!¡± Harry¡¯s voice boomed across the formation. Like a dog being let off a leash, everyone around him began running. The downside of being hidden and not part of their essence field became immediately apparent. It felt to Nero like being in the middle of a stampede. His lizard brain or whatever it was called began freaking out. He was absolutely positive that he¡¯d be run over. Only a few feet away from the edge of the formation, Nero ducked and rolled under a shield out into the open. Luckily, he managed to keep hold of his hiding technique and nobody noticed him effectively ¡®ejecting¡¯ himself out of the formation. Since the formation was basically a big circle, his safety was in no way guaranteed as the rounded edge immediately began bearing down on him. With what he¡¯d later refer to as a manly grunt, and in no way a ¡®squeak¡¯, he rolled to his feet and began running at an angle perpendicular to them. No other thought was on his mind other than that he needed to get the hell out of the way. Salvation was quickly found by ducking into the ruins of one of the kobald buildings that the formation parted its way around as it passed. Coming to his feet and dusting off his armor, Nero glared at the passing Wackos with annoyance as he muttered under his breath sarcastically, ¡°Well, that worked out well.¡± Realizing that he couldn¡¯t stay there or he¡¯d end up getting left behind, Nero tried mentally going through his options. Unfortunately, he couldn¡¯t come up with any. Until the last of the formation passed, he was stuck there. Unless he wanted to drop his hiding technique and rejoin the formation, he would get run over the moment he stuck his head out. Grumbling in annoyance, he folded his arms and watched as more and more Wackos ran by. Each one¡¯s face was twisted in a hate-filled grimace, seemingly eager to begin cutting down their enemies for the glory of ¡­ well, him probably. ¡®Is it me, or is my life getting weirder? Or has it always been weird, and I just hadn¡¯t noticed? Is it my improving mind stats allowing me to recognize it, or have I just been ignoring it as I did with the flat-earther movement?¡¯ he wondered to himself, recalling how it had blown his mind to find out that people still believed that when he was in his mid-twenties. The last of the Wackos finally passed by while he was stuck in his head pondering life¡¯s little mysteries. Seeing as he could now move out of the rubble without getting run over, Nero rechecked his mage armor and his collected essence. He knew the moment he began throwing around spells, he¡¯d be noticed, but for now, he was practically invisible. Running off at an angle near the back of the formation, he struggled to keep up with them. They were moving at quite the clip, and in no time at all had begun overrunning the kobalds hastily set up defenses. Like a wave of ants, they ripped through the kobalds. Nothing the kobalds did had a chance of stopping them. Around the edges of the formation, the melee fighters led with their shields, occasionally chopping down kobalds as they ran by. From the angle Nero was at, he could see the massive shield the mages had put up hovering over them. It was a really impressive defensive formation that allowed them to move forward without having to take any casualties. Throughout the kobald buildings that they either obliterated as they ran over them, the groups of kobalds not directly overtaken threw out pot shots as the formation ran by. Nero flittered through the kobald groups like a wraith, watching kobalds looking around in confusion, probably having sensed something as he passed by. He wanted to wait until the Wacko¡¯s formation was deeper into the enemy area before he let loose. As the formation got closer and closer to the larger kobald buildings, Nero knew the formation would have to split into smaller pieces or do something clever to get through them. That¡¯s when he¡¯d strike. Awkwardly climbing up onto one of the kobald buildings, Nero watched as the formation got further and further away. More and more kobalds took the roofs along with him as they tried to add their arrows and spells to the numerous ones already raining down on them. From where he was, Nero thought the sight of the formation enduring under all that enemy fire was awesome. Although, it was kind of weird to be standing near the edge of a building while a group of kobald casters worked together to fire combined spells into the distance at his friends. Brought out of his contemplations by the sight of the formation slowing down, Nero looked over to see how they¡¯d deal with the larger kobald buildings stopping them from just running them over. Surprisingly, they handled it well. The entire formation smoothly adjusted itself into a more streamlined configuration. The sides came together while the back slowed down enough to accommodate the Wackos moving toward the center. Instead of a large circle, it quickly became a spear. With no trouble at all, the formation continued between the kobald buildings, decreasing the amount of spellfire coming down on them from behind by hiding between the buildings. That wasn¡¯t to say that they were safe, as the buildings themselves had tons of kobalds shooting down at them from all the little windows they¡¯d carved out of their rounded stone structures. Dusting his hands off as if he were preparing to get to work, Nero muttered, ¡°OK. Time to earn that cheddar.¡± Turning his attention to the group of ten kobalds who¡¯d arranged themselves in the center of the roof he was on, Nero grinned while beginning to form his acid ball spell. The moment he did, one of the kobalds near the rear glanced over at him reflexively. Now that he was actively becoming a threat, his presence in the ether was much harder to hide. With a screech, it pointed at him causing the others to turn away from their casting and focus on him. Nero didn¡¯t wait for them to comprehend how he¡¯d gotten there and instead began firing softball-sized globs of death at them. Just to be sure, he allocated two for each of them. Considering they were casters, they had no shields to hide behind. So, he wasn¡¯t all that worried. In short order, they were rolling off the roof in pain as their scales melted. Dismissing his spell, Nero took a deep breath to focus. He reached out with his essence field and began funneling the thin soul stuff in the ether toward him. There wasn¡¯t all that much in the area, but there was still some floating over from where all the fighting had been. It was a start. Collapsing more essence into his collected reserves, while waiting for more death to reinforce his mage armor, he focused on carving his spell shell chucker and sticky fire spell forms to his shoulders. The configuration had worked well in his last large-scale engagement, and he didn¡¯t see why it wouldn¡¯t work again. Walking over to the edge of the roof, he began blanketing the ground around the short building with flames to finish off the kobalds that had been burned by his acid. All too quickly, he was noticed by the surrounding kobalds who¡¯d been focusing on chasing after the formation. Not wanting to wait for them to get coordinated, he began launching spell shells into the surrounding buildings. Explosions begat death, and that death begat soul stuff accumulating around him. The more he killed, the more he could kill. Not every death was a clone, so Nero got more proof that his assumptions had been at least partially correct. There was plenty of soul stuff ignoring him, but more than enough to fuel his spells. Unable to think of a cool way to get down from the roof, he reluctantly took the time to crawl down from the ledge as the buildings around him burned. Once back on the ground, he resumed his assault. Like a mobile turret, he began spreading out his sticky fire while shells took out whatever groups of kobalds had the temerity to pop up. He ran at a light jog as most of his focus remained on his casting. Whenever he had a moment, he reinforced his mage armor. He really wanted to pump enough into it for it to get back to that invulnerable state it had achieved during his last massacre. His working theory was that it just required a substantial amount of potential being infused into it before it fundamentally altered itself into a true enchantment. Occasionally a kobald would get a spell off, or an arrow shot, but they weren¡¯t nearly powerful enough to defeat his defenses. Without needing to draw his sword, he ran through the streets after the formation, eager to clear the way behind them. As more and more buildings blew up, he was able to spread out his fire to include a larger area. Kobalds died by the dozens as he filled the streets with magically imbued fire that was enchanted with the idea that it should BURN. Shells exploded with the inherent desire to shatter bodies and stone. Nero focused on adding whatever concepts he could into his spells with the soul stuff providing the potential. The spell forms themselves providing nothing more than the construct for him to enchant. The magical fires he set caused more of their own, and the shrapnel from his explosions took out kobalds by the score. It was ¡®indirect spell effects¡¯ for the win. While he watched his enemies fall, Nero marveled at the power of magic here, and how with enough ¡®potential¡¯ he could make anything. He wondered what more essence dense areas were like, and what kind of enchantments could exist in them. There was probably a balance. It would make sense that the more essence in the ether, the stronger the reality around it was. Either way, it would be interesting to see. While part of his mind was struggling to stop his thoughts from drifting, the majority of it was focused on his cycle of spells. Collapse essence, fill up the spell form, collect soul stuff, imbue the construct, fire it, collapse essence, refill his mage armor, collect soul stuff, imbue his mage armor, repeat. As he approached the larger kobald buildings, he realized he was finally in range of bringing them down. He could tell that the formation was already past them, as he couldn¡¯t see them with his perception field. Not wasting his opportunity, he began shelling them mercilessly. He¡¯d filled the ether with plenty of soul stuff, so he was able to charge the hell out of his shells with destructive potential. But his first few shells showed him that he¡¯d underestimated the kobald¡¯s building prowess. The larger buildings took his shells like a champ. There was some damage, but not nearly enough to bring them down. ¡®Hmmm¡­. Need more Daka,¡¯ he said to himself before absently sending a wave of sticky fire to obliterate a contingent of kobalds who had thought they were being sneaky by coming up behind him. While he wanted to bring down the buildings, he didn¡¯t want to over-imbue his spell and cause another problem for Jennings to give him shit about later. There was a fine line between bringing down a building and bringing down reality. He needed just the right amount of sugar to sweeten the cake without making it taste like candy. Slowly ramping up how much soul stuff he was using, he soon found the sweet spot. The moment he did, the buildings began to come apart. Giggling like an idiot, he walked forward while pelting the building with exploding shells as they came down in a glorious display of violence. He¡¯d seen videos of buildings being demolished, but he¡¯d never seen it happen in person. It was freakin¡¯ amazing. While he was constantly funneling soul stuff into the spells, he wondered idly how the kobalds had even built something like that. From the back of his mind, he began answering his own question. He imagined the kobalds coming together in large groups to lay out ritual patterns that could ¡®build¡¯ their structures from ambient essence fueled by sacrificing their workers. He ¡®remembered¡¯ how the grunts walked over in groups to have their throats slit. It was a disconcerting feeling to ¡®know¡¯ what had happened and how the kobald clones who¡¯d died had been totally fine with it. Unconsciously pausing his assault, Nero gripped his head with his hands. ¡®What the hell was that?¡¯ he mentally shouted to himself. Nero had felt something like that before, but that had been when he¡¯d been sleep-delving. The only conclusion he could come to was that he¡¯d somehow appropriated something from all the kobald soul stuff he¡¯d been filtering through his center. An arrow bouncing off his face made him snap out of it, his mage armor protecting him. Snapping his eyes toward the shooter, he restarted his spell form for sticky flames. In no time at all, he recleared the area before glancing at the remains of the larger buildings which were now nothing more than ruins. Beyond them in the distance, he could see the throne room gates beginning to open. The formation had made it. In the center of the doors, a bright red light began pouring out from the crack. As they split open, their golden carvings reflecting the flames he¡¯d set throughout the cavern, Nero could see a massive rift already active behind them. While the doors continued to open, he could hear the sound of fighting and explosions going off in the distance. ¡®Oh shit,¡¯ he thought to himself before he began running. Chapter 271 - Prepping for his defense. Slipping the edge of her spear around a kobald shield, she swiped the edge of its blade across a kobald throat before guiding the dying body to the ground out of the way. The maneuver was performed so smoothly that she didn¡¯t even need to alter her footing while she ran. Cathleen continued to dispatch kobalds, one after another, as she focused on the reports she was receiving through the command channel. While she would have preferred to be at the front line with the rest of the elite fighters, she knew Knight Angleton was too busy to maintain command. Wincing at the feeling of Mage Tallow¡¯s over-stressed presence, she listened to his report on the status of the shield. ¡°We¡¯re having to pull more and more mages out of the group cast. We can¡¯t wait for them to faint. The healers are already struggling to carry the ones that have. But, as long as we continue to get further away from the kobald siege casters, we should be able to manage,¡± he reported unemotionally, his presence doing the job of broadcasting his doubts about their likely success. ¡°Understood. We should be under the larger buildings soon, and that should cut off their lines of fire well enough to allow our mages to recover,¡± she replied evenly. Turning her attention to the other team leaders that were giving their own reports, she continued to cut down kobalds while coordinating the formation change as they began making their way toward the throne room in between the buildings. While the Wackos hadn¡¯t had the opportunity to train together, most of them had experience with large-scale formations from their time in the army. Those that didn¡¯t were fully capable of following along with the people who did. They were making good time, and they were soon under the shadow of the larger buildings, drastically reducing how many siege spells the mages had to defend against. While there were still plenty of kobalds firing down at them from the windows above them, she couldn¡¯t see that many groups working together to cast the more dangerous siege spells. Soon, they¡¯d be at the throne room doors, and then they¡¯d finish this. Her attention was pulled by Mage Tallow requesting a moment of her time again. Mentally connecting to him over the command channel, she waited for him to speak. Feeling her presence now listening to him, he said quickly, ¡°One of my mages has requested to know the location of Lord Walker. Apparently, he has not been seen in a while, and he is no longer with the team he¡¯d been assigned to.¡± Not even remotely surprised, Cathleen replied, ¡°Don¡¯t worry about it. I¡¯m sure our lord is fine. No doubt -¡± Her reply was cut off by the sound of explosions going off behind the formation. While she couldn¡¯t see what was happening, she could feel the buildings around her beginning to shake. Chuckling to herself, she continued, ¡°As I was saying, no doubt our lord is doing what he does best¡­ eliminating his enemies.¡± Disengaging from the connection immediately, she contacted Knight Angleton urging him to speed up their march. She had a feeling that remaining between the buildings might not be the best idea. ¡ª-- ¡°Shit, Shit, Shit¡­¡± Nero rapid-fire cursed as he ran as fast as he could through what was left of the buildings toward the throne room. Having turned his sticky fire spell form towards his rear, he left a blazing trail of fire behind him to ward off any pursuers. While in front of him, he blasted away with much more reasonably powered spell shells at any kobald groups he encountered. His personal assault on the encampment had been a great success, likely killing hundreds of kobalds and throwing their coordination into chaos. The few kobalds he came across looked just as surprised to see him as was to see them. He was sure they¡¯d eventually realize he was no longer in the area with all the fires, but until then he was relatively free to move through the ruins toward his goal. Meanwhile, his mind was running at full speed trying to process the fact that the portal was already open. His first thought was that it was his fault for killing so many kobalds, thinking that they were likely the power source the ritual used to power the connection. Yet, looking at the ether and how the soul stuff was moving, he second-guessed himself. As far as he could tell, there was no steady suction coming from the throne room, nor did he ever remember seeing any. He was 90% sure that his gratuitous violence upon the encampment had nothing to do with the portal opening. However, as he was the only person he knew capable of seeing the soul stuff, he very much doubted anyone would take his word for it. ¡®Cathleen is going to be so pissed,¡¯ he realized with a wince as he jumped over a shattered kobald defensive position. Mentally chiding himself for thinking more about being in trouble than the fact that they might not end up making it out of here, Nero tried to instead focus on the problem. They, or more accurately, HE needed to close that damned portal. He¡¯d done it before, and he could do it again. He just needed to get close to it. Considering how quickly he was moving through the ruins of the larger buildings he¡¯d brought down, Nero made it to the rear of the Wacko formation in less than 10 minutes. On the way, he¡¯d ignored the smoking piles of rubble and twisted kobald bodies that he¡¯d been responsible for. Normally, he¡¯d probably have enjoyed the opportunity to question his humanity and changing moralities in this new world, as if he were a good-natured hero who¡¯d been forced to confront the horrors of war. Reveling in such a familiar scene would have been awesome. But, he didn¡¯t have time. Instead, his focus was entirely on what his senses were telling him the closer he got to the formation. The incredibly tall throne room doors were now fully open, laying themselves flat against the sides of the entryway. Whoever had designed the place had done an amazing job of coordinating them into the walls, making it look like they weren¡¯t even doors anymore, just part of the architecture. All that remained was a massive opening which was now filled with Wackos trying to force their way inside. The Wacko formation had transitioned into a large rectangle, with a majority of the melee fighters at the front. Which unfortunately left the rear open to assaults from the remaining kobalds from the encampment. The moment he was in range, Nero began supporting them with spell shells from his shoulder-mounted spell form cannon. While he hadn¡¯t expected cheering at the sight of him appearing from the rubble, he couldn¡¯t help but wince at the feeling come off the formation in the ether. There was nothing but panic and defeat rolling off them in waves. He crossed the last of the open ground between what was left of the larger kobald buildings and the formation as quickly as he could. As he did, he made sure to spread out as much sticky fire as he could to ward off any kobalds who might be following him. The rear lines were not all that dense, and the few people with shields were spread out. He could see that many of the people holding the lines weren¡¯t normally frontline fighters. Some of them were even wearing healer robes. It was obvious that a majority of their stronger fighters were busy at the door trying to get the formation through the door. While he was met with some surprise at his arriving how he did, on the whole nobody questioned him. Aside from a few, ¡®My lord! You¡¯re here?¡¯s, Nero passed through the line without issue. It must have been quite a sight to see him running out of the kobald encampment slinging death and destruction left and right, but he wasn¡¯t mentally capable of thinking about that at the moment. He needed to know what was going on in the throne room on the other side of the door. Glaring up at the shield still being maintained by the mages, he was both happy to see it still protecting them while also being annoyed at how it was stopping him from just raising himself up so he could get a better look at what was happening. Now somewhat in the middle of the formation, he could see how poorly their assault was going. Dead bodies were being resuscitated by tired-looking healers, while injured soldiers tried to keep themselves alive for their turn. Interspersed throughout were mages who were looking on the brink of death from center overuse. Many of them were sitting down, having collapsed from the stress of trying to keep the shield over their heads from failing. It was NOT looking good. Gritting his teeth at the emotional pain of leaving them, Nero prioritized heading to the front. He needed to understand what was going on and come up with a plan on how he could help. He had access to plenty of soul stuff, his center was full, his collected essence was brimming, and his mage shield was practically humming with power over his skin. He knew he could turn the tide of the battle if he could find an opportunity. Enjoying this book? Seek out the original to ensure the author gets credit. Looking up, he could somewhat see the interior of the throne room through the door. The high ceilings were lit by the light of the portal. The blistering red sun on the other side filled the entire chamber with a sense of imminent danger and hopelessness. What was probably once a beautiful testament to human achievement, now looked like the setting for the finale of a horror movie. His perception field allowed him to see the frontline of the Wackos being held back by hundreds of kobalds pressing down on them. Still a football field away from them, the top of the massive portal loomed over everything like a grim backdrop. Seeing as the shield overhead was currently set around ten feet high, Nero realized he had a little room to work with. While standing maybe ten feet behind the frontline fighters currently struggling to cut down the veritable horde of kobalds, Nero raised himself a foot or two up onto his trusty pillar spell to get a better look at what was happening. He needed to see with his eyes as his perception field didn¡¯t stretch far enough to reach the portal. Dropping his jaw in shock, Nero wasn¡¯t prepared to see organized formations of taller kobalds in what looked like full armor and robes arriving slowly out of the base of the portal. They were not grunts or clones, or like any kobald he¡¯d ever seen before. Even from the distance he was at, he could tell that the kobalds coming out of the portal were on par with the human soldiers he¡¯d been fighting alongside. ¡®This is¡­ not good,¡¯ he said to himself. Glancing around at the bigger picture, he could see mounds of dead kobald clones piled up alongside both sides of the portal. Seeing the portal for the first time in all its glory, Nero guessed it must be the size of an apartment building, five or six stories tall at least. For a moment, his mind stalled at the attempt of conceptualizing how many of their own kind they¡¯d killed to power the damned thing. Kobald society suddenly made a lot more sense to him. They treated the kobald clones like multipurpose resources that were both cannon fodder and fuel for their wars. As nothing more than walking batteries that could be used to build structures, portals, or anything else they¡¯d need through rituals, the kobalds in charge didn¡¯t consider them part of their community. The casual disregard for their life was almost too much for Nero to fathom. All of this raced through his head in seconds as he looked around in horror at how badly the Wackos were doing. Snapping out of it, Nero began collecting soul stuff and charging his spell shell chucker. With enough power, he should be able to launch shells over the frontline fighters'' heads directly into the kobald swarm and deal some real damage. Starting from the left, Nero began firing off shells at a rate of one every two seconds. He aimed for the kobald grunts that were moving to reinforce the front. When he strafed his fire toward the center, he fired a few shells off toward the ¡®true¡¯ kobalds who¡¯d come through the portal, hoping to push them back and make them question whether it was even worth it to come through. Continuing with his sweep, he made it all the way to the right of the room with his careful targeting before he took a moment to evaluate his success. For the areas with the kobald clones, his efforts had been more than effective. The kobalds hadn¡¯t expected a mage like him and were consequently obliterated. However, the same couldn¡¯t be said about the true kobalds by the portal. His first shell near them looked like it had gone off as expected, causing some serious damage. However, now that the smoke had cleared, Nero could see that several of the robed kobalds had set up eerily similar blue shields that had stopped the rest of his shells cold. The speed at which they¡¯d adapted was scary. What was worse was that they were now all staring toward the fighting, paying close attention rather than chatting amongst themselves like they had been. Not wanting to wait for their likely reprisal, Nero focused on clearing out the kobald grunts. He quickly resumed fire on the horde of kobalds filling the majority of the throne room with their screams and hisses. With his perception field, he could see that some larger kobald groups were arriving in the rear as well. Cursing under his breath, Nero began focusing on changing out the spell forms over his shoulders to both be spell chuckers. One for the front, and one for the rear. Closing his eyes, he focused on his perception field and began firing shells one after another in both directions. All the while standing in the center of the Wacko formation on his 3-foot-tall pillar of stone as chaos reigned around him. For about five minutes, his turret-like assault was a complete success, the mages even helping him a little by raising their shields a little higher to give him a better firing angle so he could arc his shots a bit. While he called them shells, his spells were more like mortars, and at the rate he was burning through soul stuff, he couldn¡¯t waste energy speeding them up and instead focused on their explosive potential. The more he cast, the harder it was to concentrate. More and more thoughts seemed to intrude on his mind out of nowhere. His attention wanted to shift to questions about how spells actually worked. How much of an influence was intention versus the spell form¡¯s architecture? Could he cast a spell shell without the aid of a spell form if he were able to conceptualize it? Dwarven runes worked without intention, didn¡¯t they? Were rune casters just like reality coders, while human mages were more artistic douchebags focusing on their ¡®feelings¡¯? It was a grueling struggle to keep his attention where it needed to be¡­ on his spells. All at once, everything changed. He felt the ether roil as the Wacko¡¯s frontline began pushing forward. Without the press of kobalds bearing down on them, they finally had room to maneuver. At the head of the formation, Nero could see Harry and a few of the more elite fighters who used to probably be soldiers under his command rushing forward. Abilities flashed like strobe lights as they cut down kobalds and pushed deeper into the throne room. The entire formation bubbled, forcing the Wackos who were all around him to get off their asses and get moving. It was as if the entire assault force had gotten a second wind. Not wanting to stop his assault, Nero was forced to attempt to add his pillar spell into his rotation so he could keep firing. Every other spell, he had to pause for a moment to create a new pillar for him to move forward to, while remembering to dismiss the one behind him. Nero had never focused so hard in his life. It was a level of concentration that he¡¯d not known he was capable of. Despite how much his mind wanted to wander, the entirety of his focus remained on what he needed to do. Even with his center constantly being refilled by soul stuff, he was beginning to feel strained. It was as if he were struggling to stay himself, or like he was slowly being ¡®diluted¡¯ somehow. As his eyes were still closed, he relied wholly on his perception field to keep moving. There was so much to pay attention to that he nearly faltered when the edges of his attention reached the area with the true kobalds. While he wanted to take a closer look at them, he knew he couldn¡¯t afford the brainpower at the moment. Instead, he continued with what he was doing, finding opportunities to launch his shells both ahead of the frontline and behind the rear. Unfortunately, his adamant refusal to acknowledge them didn¡¯t stop them from existing. With barely any warning, he felt himself being launched from his pillar. He¡¯d barely noticed it, but someone or something had just headshot him. Whatever it was, it had sent him tumbling off his pillar and crashing into the Wackos who were following along behind him. Snapping back to reality, Nero winced at the forced break of his intense concentration. He could feel several people holding him up, each one talking over the other. ¡°Are you alright, my lord?¡± ¡°Do you need healing?¡± Waving them off, Nero tried to recall what had happened. He also reached out again with his perception field, checking to see how the fighters were fairing without his support. On that front, they were at least holding their own. The number of kobalds he¡¯d already killed had drastically altered the battlefield, allowing the Wackos to somewhat take control of the chamber. Then, the memory of what had happened snapped into place for him. One of the true kobald casters had managed to thread a spell of their own between the shield and fighting, using the same firing arc he¡¯d been taking advantage of to return fire. It had been a stone bullet of some kind. The son of a bitch had managed to snipe him. If it hadn¡¯t been for his ridiculously over-charged mage shield, he¡¯d be dead right now. ¡®OK. Well, these guys are fucking dangerous,¡¯ he said to himself as he struggled to get his feet back under him. Muttering thanks and reassuring them that he was fine, Nero disentangled himself from the Wackos who¡¯d annoyingly been patting him down while checking for injuries. It was obvious that the true kobalds were not at all like the clones he¡¯d grown used to fighting. They were more like real enemy combatants and not monsters. For a moment, Nero contemplated the fact that they all might actually die here. Wiping out monsters and facing kobald clones was one thing, but facing an organized force of equivalent power was something else altogether. Just as he was about to focus back on the fight, he felt something weird in the ether. Focusing his senses on the essence that was flowing around him, he noticed the soul stuff drastically disappearing. It was flowing toward the true kobalds in a flood. Widening his eyes in shock, he put his entire focus on the edges of his perception field to try and understand what was happening. What he was seeing didn¡¯t make any sense. Several kobald casters were waving their hands around like lunatics while gesturing among their warriors as if they were flicking invisible balls of goo at them. If he hadn¡¯t been able to see what was happening in the ether, he probably would have laughed. However, he could, and therefore he didn¡¯t. One after another, the kobalds began gaining shells of essence much like the mage armor he¡¯d developed. The kobald casters were passing out buffs. He couldn¡¯t tell exactly how they were doing it, but the results were easy to see. The kobald warriors¡¯ muscles swelled and the essence around their weapons became a little sharper. The process was incredibly inefficient, wasting tons of soul stuff, but they didn¡¯t seem to care about that at all. However, Nero did. Without that soul stuff, he didn¡¯t have an infinite center. Even worse, he wasn¡¯t sure if he had sufficient power to overcome their essence fields without it. His center wasn¡¯t all that developed compared to higher-level people¡­ or at least he thought it wasn¡¯t. These guys'' essence fields were probably on par with people, not the paper-thin ones of the kobald clones. If he needed to rely on his own reserves to power his spells¡­ he was screwed. But, the pace of the battle wasn¡¯t waiting for him. The frontline of the Wackos continued to push forward, and the ever-increasing numbers of their wounded continued to be cycled back into the middle. All around him, more and more bodies and wounded began to pile up. While everything was happening quickly, even two or three minutes was enough to change what he was seeing considering how many people were fighting. As his body stumbled forward, his mind continued to focus on his perception field and all that he was able to see. They were getting closer to the portal, and he could only hope that Harry and the fighters would be able to get him close enough to reach it. The last thing they needed was more reinforcements coming through. ¡®I swear to whatever gods that are watching that I better not have just jinxed us,¡¯ he thought to himself. Chapter 272 - I cant fix it, but breaking it is no problem. Knight Angleton felt it the moment the command channel disappeared. Former Sergeant Blackwood, his longtime friend and comrade, was no longer maintaining it. Sliding his right foot back, he braced behind his shield and received the kobald¡¯s cross cut from its off-hand blade. While normally he¡¯d counter-attack, the kobald¡¯s strike was too strong, too controlled to allow him to do so. The enemy was strong and fast, but whatever the enemy casters had done to enhance it made it clumsy. His mind now unburdened by the effort to maintain his connection to the command channel, his thoughts raced. Or, more accurately, several streams of thought all fought for his attention. Meanwhile, out of the corner of his eye, he saw a kobald being brought down by the soldier next to him. As for his thoughts¡­ First, the kobalds that had arrived through the portal were not at all like the ones they¡¯d been fighting. These kobalds had not been birthed from the material plane, nor had their ancestors. This meant that the local kobalds hadn¡¯t just contacted an elemental plane, they¡¯d gone to the trouble of aligning themselves with an established society of kobalds. Most likely they¡¯d offered this area of the material plane as a bargaining chip to earn their acceptance. In short, this was no longer just a war with the kobalds, it was now a raid by planar invaders. Sweeping his shield across his eye line, he batted away a thrust from the kobald with the edge of his shield and stepped forward to shoulder-check it back. It was a risky maneuver with the kobald dual-wielding short blades, but the miss had caused it to overextend. Second, Blackwood''s falling indicated that he had either been injured enough to lose control of the command channel, or more likely that he¡¯d been killed. Considering he¡¯d been under orders to stay back and act as the command channel¡¯s conduit, that meant that he¡¯d had no choice in joining the fighting. Which of course led to the conclusion that parts of their forward line had faltered. Dropping into a lower stance to allow the kobald¡¯s backhanded swing with its main hand to pass over his head, Knight Angleton thrust forward with his sword into the kobald¡¯s left thigh. His essence-infused sword succeeded in breaching the kobald¡¯s armor and wounding it. In a singular motion, he pulled it back in an arc to knock aside the kobald¡¯s expected counter thrust. Checking on the fight going on to his right, he used his ability to form a small shield in front of a kobald¡¯s right leg, causing it to stumble. The soldier next to him took advantage of the opening, removing the kobald from the fight with a sword thrust directly into its unarmored snout. It was as brutal as it was effective. Thirdly, considering that the portal was already open and that the enemies they were facing were no longer cannon fodder, he could no longer ignore the fact that they were all likely never going to see Dorchester again. Feinting a direct block to his current opponent¡¯s overhead strike from his off-hand, Knight Angleton prepared for his counter-attack. The moment the kobald¡¯s blade approached, he twisted his hips slightly to alter the angle of his shield while sliding his back foot to the side. As he¡¯d expected, the blade brushed past his shield, leaving his opponent¡¯s center line open to reprisal. Planting his feet, he thrust his sword forward in an obvious attempt at removing its head. Fully expecting the kobald to block his strike with its main hand, he interrupted his opponent¡¯s block using his ability to summon a small 1-unit-tall rounded shield directly in front of its blade. Nothing in his expression betrayed the internal smirk he was feeling when he saw his opponent¡¯s eyes widen in shock at its imminent demise. His essence-infused sword met limited resistance as it cleaved through the kobald¡¯s neck and separated its spine, taking it out of the fight and ensuring its death. Fourthly, and finally, he worried about the state of his friend. Was Blackwood dead, or just injured? Without a command channel available to coordinate their forces, was there any chance he wouldn¡¯t be joining his friend soon in the afterlife? With a kick to the chest of the falling kobald, Knight Angleton hurled it at the next opponent arriving in front of him. His previous opponent¡¯s soon-to-be corpse successfully served as a stumbling block, giving him the first move. All of this happened in seconds, the intensity of battle forcing his entire being to work quickly and efficiently. Beyond his opponent, more waited for their chance to end him and his comrades. And beyond them, there was a portal with countless more waiting to arrive. He would need to be at his best for as long as he could be in order to survive, and he felt his center rising to the challenge. ¡ª-- Whether it was due to the new enemy kobalds being more skilled at soul magic, or simply them being the preferred species for the former kobald souls floating around him, Nero was indeed no longer able to control the soul stuff in the ether. Whatever kinds of remnants of emotional identity that was left behind in them were clearly no longer interested in listening to him. Every time he grabbed onto them, they bucked and slipped through his mental fingers. Gritting his teeth in annoyance as he unconsciously began to panic, Nero found himself in the middle of the battle feeling metaphorically naked. All around him, Wackos were dying. Screaming hordes of human-sized, fully armored kobalds were bearing down on them, and he could do nothing to stop them. What was once a coordinated assault had turned into a chaotic battlefield with uncertain lines and no support. Already he could see patches of the magical shield over their heads opening all over the place as more and more mages were forced into the fighting by proximity. Wounded were no longer able to retreat and wait for healing, as even the healers were being forced to brandish their weapons and defend themselves. These new kobalds were just as fast, just as strong, and just as smart as any one of the humans. He wasn¡¯t sure, but he even thought he saw a few enemy abilities going off. Nero could even see that they were communicating with each other. While he didn¡¯t recognize the language, the fact that it sounded so well-defined and similar in scope to his own was terrifying. Even more disturbing was that he could ¡®feel¡¯ that he was on the brink of understanding it. Seconds passed as his mind raced to catch up with what was happening. He felt like he was rooted in place, his uncertainty concerning what he should be doing felt paralyzing. With his senses, he could feel the foreign essence flowing from the portal taking over the local ether. He was reminded of Nick¡¯s half-forgotten explanation about how translation magic worked. The world knew what the words meant even if he didn¡¯t. It was likely that soon the kobald¡¯s language would be downloaded into his brain passively just by being around them. Suddenly he realized that the kobalds he¡¯d been facing were only a shadow of previous invasions. Not clones, but maybe copies? Echos of foreign invaders that had at one time invaded long enough for their essence to be absorbed and included into this world¡¯s understanding of how things were supposed to work. It was just like the wilds and its animal spawns but on a macro scale. He NEEDED to close that portal. Forcing himself to move, he struggled forward through the fighting. Wholly relying on his technique to hide himself in the ether, he hoped and prayed to any deity that was listening that the kobalds weren¡¯t capable of detecting him. All too soon, he arrived at the fighting. He couldn¡¯t do anything other than wince when he saw another Wacko fall. Luckily the battle hadn¡¯t gotten bad enough that the bodies were being left where they were. There were still enough humans alive to pull their corpses back from the fighting. Knowing that the moment he acted, he¡¯d break his technique and be seen, he gripped his sword tight and stayed his hand. He needed to prioritize the portal. It was more than a little difficult to move through the battle without running into anyone, as the humans and kobalds were both packed shoulder to shoulder with each other. Yet, taking advantage of his smaller stature, he was able to slowly make his way closer to the portal. In fact, the closer he got to it, the more room he had to maneuver. These new kobalds seemed disturbingly similar to humans in that they preferred to stay an arm''s length away from each other. Taking mental notes about them as he made his way through the crowd, he couldn¡¯t help but notice how alien they were while also having aspects about themselves that he recognized. Their stature and build were so similar to humans. And their facial expressions, along with how they carried themselves, seemed eerily familiar despite them not even being remotely human. They were lizard people, but undeniably ¡®people¡¯. Their very existence made the kobalds he was used to seeing look like a mockery of life rather than a species of their own. Even the armor they wore was much the same as what the humans were wearing. Aside from the color looking more like smoked-filled metal instead of steel, most of them were clad in designs that wouldn¡¯t look out of place on the streets of Dorchester. Even the casters looked similarly robed to the ones he was used to. Of course, there were some differences, but they were slight. The kobalds were wearing more jewelry along with weird headdresses, but still¡­ it was weird. Although he couldn¡¯t stop his mind from evaluating what he was seeing, he remained laser-focused on his goal. And in less than five minutes, he felt the essence around him indicating that he¡¯d arrived. Rather than staying near the middle, he slipped off to the sides as there were fewer kobalds around. He was behind enemy lines and thoroughly on his own. Thanking all that was holy that he¡¯d figured out how to keep his essence field separate from the surrounding essence, Nero involuntary trembled at the thought of being discovered. Yes, he still had his powered-up mage shield running, but he knew that without fresh soul stuff to infuse it with, it wouldn¡¯t last long under the combined might of their blades. Enjoying the story? Show your support by reading it on the official site. He could see more and more kobalds making their way out of the portal. They sauntered through like they were arriving as guests rather than being reinforcements for a battle. He could tell that they considered the fight already won. In fact, it didn¡¯t even seem to Nero like they considered the battle that was happening all that important. After arriving, most of them seemed more interested in commenting to each other about the architecture while they looked down and mocked the few smaller kobalds that were bowing and scraping before them. Gritting his teeth in anger, Nero tried not to let their attitude get to him, as he needed to remain hidden. It took all of his concentration to avoid kobalds that were moving around. While they couldn¡¯t see him, all it would take was one running into him and he¡¯d be screwed. Or more accurately, ¡®skewered¡¯. He simply couldn¡¯t stay where he was. If he was going to connect with the portal and close it, he needed to be able to concentrate. Ducking and scampering through the chamber, he hurried to try and find a place to hide. Every second that passed, he felt like he was failing the wackos who were fighting for their lives. Eventually, he arrived at the very edge of the portal which was butted up against the piles of kobald corpses which presumably had been used to open the damned thing. Completely pissed that he couldn¡¯t come up with a better option, he reluctantly climbed up a few feet onto the pile and took a seat on the now cold bodies below him. The stench was revolting, but it was also unlikely any of the kobalds would find him there. And considering that he was practically right next to the portal, he was fully in range to connect with it. Just to be safe, he carefully moved a few bodies further to hide himself from a casual observer. He didn¡¯t know if he could keep up his hiding technique after he started, and the last thing he needed was to be found. He worked quickly, but carefully, as he knew every second counted. When he was finally ready, he closed his eyes and reached out to the portal. He¡¯d expected it to be similar to the one he¡¯d dealt with before, and in many ways, it was. However, it was also very different, as it wasn¡¯t being powered by a ritual anymore. It instead had more similarities to the essence disturbance he had once connected with. In fact, much like the last time, the moment he connected with it, he felt the draw on his mind trying to pull him in. He instinctively knew that he could just let his body go and follow its siren song into another plane. Just like how he¡¯d accidentally killed himself delving into the essence disturbance, he could simply leave his mortal form behind and return to being a soul. Perhaps he could bodyjack a kobald and start over. The essence coming through the portal began to whisper hints as to what the plane was like. He saw cities built out of black and red stone, eerily similar to what the kobalds here had built. But, unlike the kobalds he was used to, these cities were advanced. It was like everything he¡¯d seen before was merely a poor imitation of the real thing. The society itself was militaristic, and constantly at war with itself. Merchant councils and warlords ruled over all, and slavery was rampant. But it wasn¡¯t really slavery, as their entire concept of individuality was nothing like anything he¡¯d ever experienced. It was all based on soul strength. Clones and birthing chambers were bought and traded like resources, with only the sufficiently advanced kobalds considered citizens or ¡®kobalds¡¯. It wasn¡¯t all doom and gloom though, as they also had culture and music in spades. He saw flashes of arenas for fighting, public debates, concerts, and theatre. Diverse goods and services made life easy for some while hell for others. Nero couldn¡¯t liken it to any societal model he¡¯d ever seen. Before he could get too caught up in what the essence coming through the portal was showing him, he ripped his mind away and tried to center himself. Gritting his teeth at the headache he was feeling when he arrived back in his body, Nero realized that he¡¯d been unsuccessful at stopping himself from delving too deep. He hadn¡¯t even noticed it happening. His mage armor had dissipated, along with his hiding technique. He took a moment to congratulate himself on his forethought of hiding under the corpses before making another attempt to connect with the portal. ¡®This is gonna be tricky,¡¯ he warned himself. His mind was now free of any encumbrances and tasks, so he was able to truly devote his full brain power to finding the core of the portal while ignoring anything that tried to distract him. Sending his mind out into the ether, he let the essence flows brush past him without acknowledging them. Like a shark in the ocean, he never stayed in one place. On and on he pushed, dodging and weaving his way through the flows until he found the bundle of essence which maintained the anchor¡­ because that¡¯s obviously what it was now that he looked at it. It wasn¡¯t so much a portal, as a connection point. The shape and purpose were almost secondary to what it ¡®was¡¯ in actuality. He could see thick ropes of local essence intertwined with foreign essence flows leading off through the planes. The ritual the kobalds had done had somehow reached out through the ether, broken through the planar boundary, and then woven a point on another plane ¡®into¡¯ the local essence. It was more than an essence disturbance, it was like a stitch in reality holding two places in two planes together. The foreign essence was taut, and it was exerting force on the stitch to drag itself back where it had come from¡­ When it succeeded, it would drag all of the local essence along with it. Seeing the metaphysical representation of how the entire process worked in stark reality was mindblowing to Nero. The more he looked, the more he saw, and the more he saw, the more his find felt like it was melting. There was just too much going on for him to process. And that didn¡¯t even touch on all the other aspects of the big ball of essence that had to do with how the portal itself was actually functioning. He was merely looking at the anchor part and was already completely out of his depth. Mentally shaking himself and reminding himself of his goal, he thought, ¡®It doesn¡¯t matter. I don¡¯t need to understand something to break it. I just need to be sure to do it in a way that doesn¡¯t end with me blowing up the entire damned mountain in the process.¡¯ Focusing carefully on the giant ball of entwined essence, Nero ran his senses over it as quickly as he could. He needed to find a weak point, or at least somewhere to start. Where the previous portal had the glaring weakness of being powered by a ritual, this one was completely self-contained. It was also much more densely packed together than the singular essence disturbance he¡¯d messed around with a while back. Seconds continued to pass, and by the minute mark he was getting frustrated. He felt like he was trying to solve one of those dumbass brain teasers that people often brought to work to prove how smart they were. He hadn¡¯t felt this mentally deficient since he¡¯d last futzed around with a Rubik¡¯s Cube. Feeling like he was running out of time, he eventually said ¡®fuck it¡¯ and decided to just start wherever. Reaching out with what he¡¯d cleverly deemed his ¡®mind probe¡¯, he wedged his mental presence into the ridiculously large ball of essence and began pulling out threads of entwined essence by the handful. The only thing he could think of to prevent catastrophe was to try and smooth out whatever local essence he found while allowing the small individual flows of foreign essence to snap themselves back toward their own plane. After all, he couldn¡¯t care less what happened on the other side of the portal. Completely focused in the ether, his sense of what was happening in reality faded away. Chunk after chunk of essence was pulled out and dealt with, as the big ball of essence itself continued to struggle within his grasp. When it began to falter, he forcefully held it together with nothing more than his will. He could already hear Archmage Jenning¡¯s voice in the back of his head admonishing him for being a hamfisted reckless idiot while yelling at him for screwing with things he had no business screwing with, but he persevered. He kept on at it until he began seeing a pattern. The moment he did, he began just pulling out the local essence, leaving the foreign essence all tangled up together. Every time he pulled out the local essence, he made sure to try and smooth it out with the relevant local flows that were all around him. He could tell that what he was doing was far from perfect, but on the whole, he thought he was doing a fine job. Of course, that feeling lasted about as long as a good dump before he realized he¡¯d metaphorically just shit the bed. Without the corresponding amount of local essence holding it back, the foreign essence began pulling on the remaining local essence still entwined with it. The moment he realized what was happening, it was already almost too late to do anything about it. And if he didn¡¯t do anything, a chunk of local reality would be pulled back through the planes along with the retreating foreign essence. Considering he was right next to the portal, along with the rest of the wackos, that outcome would be less than ideal. So, he needed to do something¡­ anything. Scrambling for an idea, all he could think of was stopping the foreign essence from returning. Without any other options, he grabbed hold of the foreign essence threads that stretched out through the planes and pulled. He immediately felt like he was a fat guy trying to do a pullup. ¡®OK. So that didn¡¯t work,¡¯ he thought to himself sadly. He could feel it¡­ the local essence was about to snap. He was out of time. Unable to come up with anything else, he did¡­ something. He wasn¡¯t sure how, but his desire to cut the foreign essence off from its source was so strong that his mind became some sort of metaphysical blade. Like a knife cutting a string under tension, the foreign essence snapped. He felt it the moment it happened. Instead of just cutting one essence flow, he¡¯d cut them all. In his perception, it looked like he¡¯d snapped a 10-foot-wide steel cable. The side that was connected to the foreign plane shot off into the distance like a bullet while flailing around wildly. He wasn¡¯t sure what would happen with it, but he knew it was nothing good. Almost as if the universe itself wanted to admonish him for what he¡¯d just done, he got flashes of a courtyard the size of several football fields, filled with kobalds waiting to go through the portal. It was a mustering area so large that it boggled the mind. Around it, there was open space ringed with rune-covered towers which had been designed to collect and distribute the expected mountains and land that the local kobalds were expecting to eventually arrive. They¡¯d done this before. They¡¯d built their plane into a larger and larger world by stealing essence from other planes. The forces here were just to hold the portal and stop anyone from interfering. The hard part was already done, and all they had to do now was wait. Intuitive knowledge of the ¡®what¡¯ and ¡®why¡¯ of what was happening poured itself into his mind with each flash of insight. But, Nero got to see what happened when their essence probes into another reality were rebuffed. It wasn¡¯t an explosion. If he had to liken it to anything, then it was more like what he¡¯d expect from a nano cloud tasked with destruction being unleashed without care into a population center. Kobalds along with their armor, the ground, the air, the towers, everything came apart. For as far as he could see, reality around the portal simply decided it didn¡¯t want to hold together anymore. When the flashes finally faded, Nero realized his connection to the last of the foreign essence was gone. While a great deal of it still remained, something was happening to it¡­ or with it. The local essence seemed to be incorporating it somehow. The big ball of foreign essence was unraveling and being folded into the local essence flows. The process was surprisingly smooth, and almost beautiful in a way. Before it was done with what it was doing, Nero felt something odd through his weak connection with his body. Tilting his metaphorical head in confusion, he slipped back through the ether and opened his eyes. While he was still surrounded and hidden by kobald corpses, what he saw when he peeked out from behind them was almost enough to cause him to scream ¡®bullshit¡¯ and ask reality for another ruling. What was once the former throne room had changed. Where the portal used to be, there was now a shredded mass of flesh and gore along with piles of rubble stacked nearly to the ceiling. The dimensions of the chamber had changed drastically, and what used to be a giant hall was now simply ridiculous in size. The only positive with what he could see was that he felt an enormous amount of soul stuff floating around in the ether. It was so dense, that he couldn¡¯t even begin to comprehend how many kobalds had to die in order to create it. And even better¡­ he could feel nothing from it¡­ no remnant minds survived their trip. It was just free potential there for the taking. He could feel that the entire battle had paused, both humans and kobalds of all types stunned into silence by the changing circumstances. ¡®This¡­ This is going to be good,¡¯ he thought to himself. Chapter 273 - Im sure it will be fine. Seeing another mage from the group next to him disconnect from the shield spell, Merrick began to question whether or not he should as well. As more and more kobalds were throwing themselves into the rapidly growing melee style free-for-all, there were fewer and fewer ranged attacks coming down on them. So, he¡¯d probably be of more use doing something else. The problem was Merrick had no idea what that ¡®else¡¯ should be. He knew that it was just a matter of luck that he¡¯d found himself inside one of the few remaining pockets of resistance that still had melee fighters defending its edges. Since the formation had begun to fail, the fighting had become nothing but chaos. But, for the moment, he and a few of his fellow mages, a few healers, and multiple wounded were relatively safe. The same could not be said for everyone else. They all looked like they were fighting for their lives. As he continued to mentally debate whether it was worth it to continue to maintain his connection to the shield spell, he saw that the group of kobald grunts assaulting them was about to be reinforced. Gasping in horror, he watched as thirty or forty more came rushing forward from the edges of the chamber. He could see that the melee fighters weren¡¯t going to be able to hold. Realizing that he¡¯d be in the thick of the fighting soon enough, he quickly tried to recall every lesson and seminar he¡¯d ever participated in during his time at the academy. Now, more than ever, he regretted having not mastered the trick of combat casting. He understood the principle, and he could form his essence shield, but he¡¯d never managed the trick of isolating his essence from the ambient ether when it was under tension. At least not well enough for him to ever consider himself competent at it. Cutting himself off from the essence flows felt too unnatural. Knowing he was almost out of time, he released his connection to the shield spell hovering overhead and considered how he should prepare. The moment he did, he felt the two other mages alongside him do so as well. He could feel their essence in the ether, their presence reassuring him that despite how bad the situation was, at least he was not alone. Reticent, but determined, he firmed his will and forcefully pulled on his essence field. It hurt, just like he knew it would. His sense of connection with his fellow vassals of House Walker immediately vanished. Suddenly, he was all alone in the middle of a battle surrounded by blood and death. He could already feel the panic bearing down on him. Something primal in his guts was screaming at him to give up and just run for the exits. Ignoring his instincts, he used his essence field to connect with as much essence as he could before beginning to wrap it around himself. Like he¡¯d been trained, he formed the container, trapping the essence within the thin film of his center. The sense of isolation was almost overpowering. With extensive and harsh training, some people were able to maintain their connection to the ether while building their essence shields. However, he wasn¡¯t one of them. He wasn¡¯t a war wizard. He was just a working-class mage like countless others. He was well aware of that. Always had been. In the back of his mind, doubts about whether he would survive and whether or not he should have ever come here began building. But, confronted with the reality of the kobalds pushing through the line of combat and running past the melee fighters, he knew now wasn¡¯t the time for second thoughts. Pulling deeply from his center, he began carving a ¡®flame bolt¡¯ spell form between his hands. It was the most familiar spell he could think of, and one he¡¯d cast numerous times before. His mind held the shape as his fingers danced through the air while he used his center to bring it into being. As the spell form began to take shape, its indistinct mass of essence mirrored the pattern he¡¯d spent countless hours memorizing. When it was completed, he felt it. It felt right. It was ready. Through the connection he had with his spell form, he willed it to feed off his essence shield, knowing that the ether and its essence flows were currently unavailable to it. He felt the pull immediately. The drain was substantial and would probably be enough to ruin his shield after a single cast. But, he¡¯d succeeded. His spell form was charged. He filled it with more center, feeling himself diminish, and brought a small ball of fire into existence. Cupping it between his hands, he narrowed his eyes in concentration before looking up to choose a target. Picking the first kobald he saw, he released it. Just as the spell¡¯s name implied, a bolt of fire shot forth from his hands off towards the kobald. It slammed into its chest and exploded into a ball of fire providing enough force to send it hurtling back into the crowd of kobalds behind it. A success. His target was dead. Unfortunately, there were plenty more coming. They¡¯d broken through the line and were now being physically held back by the healers. Panting in exhaustion after having worked so hard to cast a single spell, he clenched his fists in rage. His concentration faltered and he felt the essence signatures he¡¯d cut himself off from come slamming back into his mind. The now familiar presences of the soldiers he¡¯d been fighting alongside were once again a part of him. Their fear and panic forced him to feel it as well. ¡°Screw it,¡± he muttered before drawing the daggers he¡¯d brought along from the belt under his outer robes. Knowing that he wasn¡¯t going to win this fight with magic, he joined them all in melee, all the while screaming in hate at the little monsters who¡¯d come here to destroy his city. ¡ª-- So much about the chamber had changed since the last time he¡¯d opened his eyes, but Nero knew he didn¡¯t have time to look around. The pause in the fighting was too large of an opportunity to pass up. If the kobald casters could make use of all that potential as well as he could, then who knew what kind of damage they would do. So, with little time for experimenting, he went with what he knew. While shoving kobald bodies away, he stood up on the pile of corpses and began casting his spells. Unlike the last time he¡¯d messed with a portal, the ether now felt stronger than ever. There was so much essence floating around that it took effort to ignore it. However, that worked out well for him, because he had no trouble collecting a ton of it in short order. His mage armor was up in less than a second, his brain now almost instinctively setting aside a portion of its processing power to maintain it. Over his shoulders both the sticky flame spell form along with the spell shell chucker he¡¯d developed stamped themselves into existence, no longer even needing to be carved. Whether it was his familiarity with the spells or his intense concentration, he was ready for war by the time he¡¯d crawled to his feet. Standing at a height of about 10 feet off the main floor, he was still somewhat near the base of the massive pile of kobald corpses. But, he could easily imagine himself as a lone human standing tall on a pile of dead kobalds. Unfortunately, nobody was around to see him. Instead, every kobald nearby was still staring blankly at the missing portal which had disappeared. They didn¡¯t get a chance to appreciate how awesome he probably looked. Drawing his sword unconsciously as he prepared himself for the violence he was about to unleash, Nero looked around to quickly begin picking his targets. As his eyes darted around, part of his mind was focused on connecting with as much soul stuff as he could get a hold of. Some of it he funneled into his mage armor to charge it, the rest of it he began preparing to use for his spells, filtering it through his center. By the time he was ready, the chamber had largely begun realizing that they were still in the middle of a battle. The fighting quickly began starting up again, as quick-thinking kobalds and humans began taking advantage of the ones who hadn¡¯t managed to recover from their confusion. From his position on the pile of sacrificed kobalds, Nero began firing off thick lines of fire that arced down like hose fire onto the smaller kobalds below. There were no humans around, so he had free reign to cover the entire area in his own personal version of a fiery hellscape. The narrative has been illicitly obtained; should you discover it on Amazon, report the violation. But that was not his main focus. Instead, the majority of his attention remained on the center of the chamber where the larger ¡®true¡¯ kobalds were, specifically those who¡¯d successfully made their way through the portal. They were all still grouped together, waiting for their turn at the humans. That¡¯s where he began sending his spell shells. Knowing that they were probably much stronger than the clones and the weaker kobalds he¡¯d been used to dealing with, he decided not to take any chances. Each shell was filled with plenty of soul stuff and imbued with as much speed as he could impart. On the plus side, it had his shells getting there so fast that they barely lost any height during their flight. The negative of course was that the first one erupted before he¡¯d even finished forming his second. Not that it mattered, as he wasn¡¯t likely to be interrupted any time soon. The kobalds, all of the kobalds, were too preoccupied with trying to understand what was happening to pay attention to how amazing he was. Nero was feeling pretty good about himself as he saw how many kobalds below him were being lit up like candles as his fires spewed out like a firehose from the stage of a festival concert. And the background of ¡®true¡¯ kobald bodies exploding in ten-foot balls of multi-colored essence blooms made sure that this would probably end up being one of¡­ if not his fondest memory. There was so much soul stuff in the ether, or unaccounted for potential, that he didn¡¯t know what to do with it. If he¡¯d known any better spells or was capable of better multi-casting, he knew he could probably have come up with something really crazy. But, alas, he hadn¡¯t much time to experiment or learn spells. So, he was stuck doing what he could. He quickly fell into a rhythm, finding it surprising how often he had to replenish the supply of essence he¡¯d collected from the ether. With how much soul stuff he was pumping into his spells, they were taking increasing amounts of essence to fuel themselves. Frowning in confusion, Nero didn¡¯t understand why that could be. He¡¯d thought that the amount of essence infused in a spell was a separate variable from how much center or potential he¡¯d imbued it with. Sighing to himself, he realized it was just another mystery topic he¡¯d eventually have to look into if he ever managed to find the time to actually study magic. But, it wasn¡¯t all bad, as despite not having all that impressive of a repertoire, his spells were pretty effective. From his perch, he was able to decimate the true kobalds before they even knew what was happening. Even with many of them trying to set up defensive shields, eerily mimicking how the humans fought, Nero¡¯s spells were charged with so much soul stuff that they had no problem shattering them. In the face of overwhelming power, they had no chance to defend themselves. With the sustained amount of fire he was able to put out, any semblance of coordination or formation they had was obliterated. So much soul stuff was flowing through him, that he was beginning to lose track of it. Some was being filtered through his center for his spells, some to his mage armor, and other bits he was just collecting and preparing for his upcoming spells. As the seconds passed, the more he felt like a conduit for the magic than an actual human being. Right as he began to run out of targets that were far enough away from the fighting line, Nero realized he might have pushed himself a little further than he probably should have. His center felt like it was on fire. Or more accurately, like it was burning. Dropping to his knee, he clutched his chest like he was suffering an acid reflux attack after having too many Jabenero Hot Wings. Unable to keep channeling soul stuff, he paused his attack. Nero honestly had no idea what was going on. He¡¯d overstressed his center before, but he¡¯d never felt anything quite like this. He felt like he was bursting, burning, and breaking apart all at the same time. Even worse, his mind was beginning to wander. His concentration was slipping. And if it weren¡¯t for the fact that the entire area around the pile of kobald corpses he was standing on was covered in fifty or sixty feet of solid fire, he¡¯d probably have been swarmed by kobalds without being able to do anything to stop it. Shaking his head back and forth to try and clear his head, he began muttering, ¡°What the fuck is going on¡­¡± Collapsing into unconsciousness, Nero inadvertently retook his hiding place among the kobald bodies as just another body on the pile. Without even making the decision to do so, he found himself arriving within his soul space. The transition was so jarring that for a moment he¡¯d been teleported somewhere. Yet, at the same time, he also immediately recognized where he was. Looking around, he was immediately caught off guard by how many balls of memories were floating all around him. There were so many, that he couldn¡¯t even see the forest he assumed would most likely still be out there somewhere behind them. He couldn¡¯t see the sky or even the path under his feet. If it weren¡¯t for the familiar sense of where he was, he wouldn¡¯t have believed that this was really his soul. Still feeling the pain in his chest, Nero wasn¡¯t sure why, but he felt like he was running out of time. There was just something about the situation that he found himself in that screamed danger to him. In fact, the sense of impending doom was so strong that he found himself instinctively distrusting it. He¡¯d recently learned that he didn¡¯t really feel the same kind of fear that he used to. After seeing and experiencing people being healed through any number of horrific injuries and even death, Nero had come to realize that there was nothing he needed to be concerned about. Without the threat of consequences, why should he fear anything? But, whatever threat to his well-being that he was currently facing, whatever was going on, he couldn¡¯t stop himself from shivering in panic at the prevailing sense of danger. Somehow he just ¡®knew¡¯ that if he didn¡¯t do something soon, he was going to die¡­ permanently. With nothing else obvious, he reached out to the first bit of memory that he could see and brought it out of the cloud around him. His mind was instantly assaulted by the feeling of being a stone. Not just any stone, he was a stone mined from the cliffs of Yeeooch, a name he only knew about do the kobald miners who¡¯d removed him once mentioning it. He might not have recognized the term or even paid attention, but the small part of his mind that was still Nero made note of it. He¡¯d come into existence after the great upheaval of the third age when the sky burned and the seas boiled. Before that, he was just another piece of ground well below the earth. His life regardless of his form was one of pressure and perseverance. He didn¡¯t endure, he existed. There was no other thought in his mind, or concern about anything. He was a rock, and that¡¯s all he was. While other things around him changed, he did not. He¡¯d been pushed to the surface, ripped from his mountain, dragged, carved, and walked over, but he always remained a rock. That was until he¡¯d been placed¡­ then he was a paving stone. But he was still who he was¡­ a rock. Well, he was until he wasn¡¯t. Snapping out of it, Nero gasped in shock and dropped to his knees while panting so hard he felt like he was going to pass out. ¡°What in the everliving fuck was that!¡± he shouted his question out into the silence. Looking up at the cloud of ¡®memories¡¯ in front of him, Nero¡¯s mind scrambled to understand what was going on. The memory he¡¯d just incorporated into his center felt like it had done more harm than good. It had invaded the core of his identity and begun tearing down his perception of reality. Who he ¡®was¡¯ was suddenly ¡®lesser¡¯ than it was before. He felt¡­ tainted. The only saving grace of the situation was that the rock¡¯s life he¡¯d incomprehensibly experienced was ultimately rather dull. He couldn¡¯t imagine how screwed up his sense of self would have been if he¡¯d tried and done that with the identity of something sentient or more complex. Experiencing the life of an animal or a person would have probably driven him crazy. In panic, he couldn¡¯t stop himself from staring in fear at the all-encompassing cloud around him. How many ¡®lives¡¯ were out there, just waiting for him to see? Where had they come from? What the hell was going on? Nero fought against the pain in his chest, realizing that it was, impossibly, his soul that was suffering. Whatever was going on wasn¡¯t something physical, but spiritual. Instinctively growling at the ridiculousness of the situation he¡¯d found himself in, Nero began trying to piece together how this could have happened. The only thing he could think of was that he¡¯d somehow acquired the memories of the things that had come apart on the other side of the portal when he¡¯d destroyed it. How that might have happened, he could only guess. Most likely, the cloud of what he¡¯d thought was soul stuff, hadn¡¯t actually been soul stuff from people¡­ but from everything. It was the ethereal manifestation of some of the foreign essence that he might have, accidentally, stolen from the other plane. When he¡¯d used soul stuff before, he¡¯d come to somewhat understand it. Going by how he understood things worked, it made a bit of sense that the souls that passed onto the other planes were the only actual ¡®souls¡¯ that he¡¯d actually been dealing with. The ¡®potential¡¯ as he¡¯d come to refer to it, was likely just the essence borrowed from the world which had been given an identity by the soul. So, when a soul died, it left whatever hadn¡¯t been fully incorporated into it behind. Everything else like rocks, and possibly plants and such probably worked the same way¡­ but without a soul. Their identities were there, just not actualized. When the portal had tied realities together, the meaning of what things were was split between them. While he didn¡¯t understand how it all worked together exactly, it was obvious that the bits of essence that this reality had ¡®acquired¡¯ from the other side included some of their material plane¡¯s which had been forcefully turned back into free-floating potential with an unrealized identity. And he¡¯d stupidly been using it to power his spells. Even worse, he¡¯d somehow allowed some of it to infect his soul with their original identities. If he wasn¡¯t able to overcome them with his own sense of ¡®Nero¡¯, turning it into his own identity, then he¡¯d end up getting diluted. Maybe that¡¯s what essence flows were, just concepts that weren¡¯t given form. A flow of rock essence was rock¡­ but not any rock in particular. Center was just human essence with the particular flavor of Nero. Potential, or experience, reinforced things and made them more real. That¡¯s why spells needed center to exist, otherwise, they were just essence flows. Looking around at all the already imbued essence filling his soul space, he couldn¡¯t help but gulp in fear. ¡°I was wrong¡­ this is NOT going to be good,¡± he said to himself. Chapter 274 - Embracing the inner Nero. Cathleen Averrett had spent a lifetime training her senses. So, she knew full well how poorly the battle was going. While she may not be able to ¡®see¡¯ everything that was happening, she could sense where the kobalds were and how broken the formation had become. Glancing to her right, she felt her blood boil at the thought of fighting actual planar invaders like these new kobalds that had arrived. She¡¯d prefer to be over there testing her metal against them, but instead, she was stuck here fighting these weaklings. ¡°But a Battle Leader¡¯s place is wherever she is most needed,¡± she reminded herself in a whisper as she kicked away another kobald corpse before moving on. Temporarily tossing her short spear and shield into the small personal space she¡¯d spent years developing, Cathleen swapped out her weapons for a 5-unit-tall bladed spear staff and a more aggressive stance. While most people might prefer a shorter weapon when fighting in close quarters like these, she was perfectly capable of using the press of bodies to her advantage. With the formation being overrun, now wasn¡¯t the time to hold back. Her spear shot forward like a piston, narrowly avoiding the two wackos in front of her. It pierced a kobald who was in melee in its snout, reaping its life so quickly it couldn¡¯t hope to understand how it had died. Pivoting slightly with her hips, she repeated her strike a little to the left, killing another kobald who was wailing away on one of her Wacko¡¯s shields. She slid back and forth along the combat line behind the main fighters, her spear rapidly taking lives as she took full advantage of her spear¡¯s reach. She couldn¡¯t help but smirk at the fact that the Wackos weren¡¯t allowing themselves to be caught off guard by their enemies randomly dying in front of them. They didn¡¯t pause in shock or hesitate, they instead took advantage as best they could. When the kobald in front of them stopped fighting, they were already moving on to the next one. After a minute or two of reinforcing the lines, she allowed herself a moment to consider how the fight was going. Leaping up over several Wackos, she ran across armored shoulders without them even feeling her pass by. The shield above her had been abandoned by the mages, and she needed to be careful to avoid the few arrows that were raining down from above. While the kobald casters were holding back due to the likelihood of friendly fire, their stupid archers didn¡¯t seem to mind killing their own troops on the off chance that they might wound a human or two. With the back of her hand, she swatted away another arrow as she looked around. Not even infused with essence, the arrows were nothing more than a distraction. She doubted they could even pierce a Wacko¡¯s skin. The portal anchor allowed her to see how things were developing with its harsh red light. And while it didn¡¯t look good, she couldn¡¯t help but feel her entire center burning with excitement. ¡®This is the type of fight I¡¯ve been missing. An overwhelming enemy to overcome despite the odds, all for a cause worth fighting for,¡¯ she thought to herself as she danced above the battle. She moved through the formation occasionally taking kobald lives where her soldiers looked to be hard-pressed to hold them back. She noted that the center of the formation was holding up well enough, and it looked like Blackwood had made it to the healers. While he wouldn¡¯t be able to reinstate the command channel without gathering everyone up again, it was good to see him survive. She didn¡¯t think they had any combat healers who could resuscitate people in the middle of all this fighting. ¡®A skilled warrior is worth countless recruits,¡¯ she noted absently as she dismissed him from her mind and checked in on how the fighting at the front was going. Most of their force''s stronger warriors were engaged with the planar invaders directly, leaving the rest of the formation to handle the weaker terrestrial kobalds. Abusing the height advantage from running atop the battle, she was able to watch as her forces struggled to hold back the kobalds. Meanwhile, she could see that more and more were coming through the portal, calmly waiting their turn at the humans. They were worthy enemies, and if she survived, she¡¯d have quite the story to tell. But, for that to happen, she knew she first had to figure out how to organize a retreat. Without a command channel, the likelihood of coordinating anything was too low. Yet, if they didn¡¯t pull back soon, it would be too late. Arriving near the front, she dropped down behind Knight Angleton and shouted, ¡°We need to pull back, start falling back to the throne room doors. If we can make it to one of the kobald buildings, we can begin setting up defenses for a prolonged siege and begin coming up with some options.¡± Still fighting, he didn¡¯t have time to speak with her directly, so instead just replied without turning around. ¡°That will only buy us some time. We don¡¯t have any reinforcements to wait for. We need to close that portal. Where is Lord Walker?¡± he asked grimly while parrying another attack from the kobald in front of him. While shooting the tip of her spear between the fighting into the armpit of one of the kobalds, Cathleen replied evenly, ¡°I haven¡¯t seen him. Most likely, he¡¯s off causing trouble on his own. You know as well as I do that he isn¡¯t the type to follow orders.¡± ¡°You think he¡¯s fallen?¡± the knight asked, his tone tinged with worry. Laughing uproariously as she stabbed a kobald through its throat from behind the safety of the combat line, she replied, ¡°Fallen? I doubt it. He¡¯s harder to kill than an essence-mutated cockroach. Trust me, I¡¯ve seen him rebuild his own heart from scratch during training mid-fight. All the while he was cursing me out for my ¡®insane training¡¯ regime and threatening me with a lawsuit. I¡¯m more worried about the rest of us.¡± Sounding stubborn and determined, Knight Angleton replied, ¡°We¡¯ll be fine. We just need to hold as long as we can. There is no point in falling back and regrouping. We came here to stop the threat of this portal, and that¡¯s what we¡¯re going to do. But, the longer this goes on, the less likely our chances of success become. You should know as well as I do that retreat has never been a realistic option.¡± Mentally scoffing at the man¡¯s overly rigid mindset, she was about to explain how a temporary retreat was their only choice when the entire situation changed completely. She along with everyone else froze in confusion as the ether pulled taught around them. The normally chaotic essence flows stopped moving, making it seem as if the entire world around them was about to shatter into a million pieces, killing them all along with it. Cathleen felt herself gripped tight by the world, held in place as if some deity was holding her in place while deciding her fate. Considering how everyone around her looked the same, she could only assume she wasn¡¯t the only one feeling it. Seconds passed as her eyes danced around trying to understand what was happening. She couldn¡¯t move. It was a struggle simply to turn her head at all. Above her, she saw an arrow, mid-flight, slowly falling as if all of its momentum had been ripped away. Was this a spell? How was this possible? Then, in a non-physical blast of essence so strong that it rocked her center, she felt the world start up again. Stumbling back from the shock of feeling the sound around her return to normal, she watched in awe as the portal simply vanished. Behind it, the back of the chamber was just¡­ gone. In its place was a mountain of kobald bodies and rubble. The chamber had expanded drastically, ruining the smooth walls and turning the entire area into a cavern. For the first time in a long time, she hesitated. What she was seeing made absolutely no sense. Even the ether around her felt confused¡­ uncertain. The entire battle had come to an abrupt stop, no one having the strength of mind to overcome the shock and keep fighting. The light from the portal was gone, leaving the entire chamber in shadow. What few fires were burning were not near enough to provide enough light for everyone to see. Recovering faster than most, she was about to start taking advantage of the situation when everything incomprehensibly changed all over again. Explosions erupted all over the place, filling the air with kobald invader¡¯s bodies being blown apart with what looked like tactical spells from a skilled warmage. Had reinforcements come after all? ¡°What in all the hells below is happening?!?¡± she muttered in a hiss as she ducked under a kobald torso that was flying past her, covering her in gore. This novel is published on a different platform. Support the original author by finding the official source. ¡ª-- Nero¡¯s wide, panicked eyes stared at the cloud of memories hovering over him. He couldn¡¯t bring himself to stand up in the face of their growing pressure. With a fist gripping the chest of his armor, he tried to hold back tears as his center burned deep inside him. He felt like he was dying. It was a struggle to even think. He needed a way forward¡­ a plan. Falling back on his training from his two¡­ count them TWO¡­ management training seminars he¡¯d attended on the company¡¯s dime, he tried to take a breath and put his situation in terms he could understand. First, he needed to isolate the problem. That was easy¡­ he was dying. Mumbling to himself, he noted, ¡°Not the time to be a flippant asshole. Think, man!¡± He had foreign essences with their own identities floating around in his soul space. How they got there, and what they would do to him wasn¡¯t important at the moment. What was important was that none of them should be there, and he needed to deal with them. How to deal with them? Just like a toxic employee ruining the team dynamic, he either needed to bring them under control or fire them. So, he either needed to figure out a way to incorporate the essence or get rid of it. Were either of those possible? Probably¡­ maybe¡­ had to be, right? Nero had enough experience with his soul space to generally understand how it all worked. The memories were his experiences that hadn¡¯t been fully incorporated into his soul. By reviewing and understanding them, they would reinforce his center and help him ¡®grow¡¯. Could he somehow use foreign experiences the same way without changing who he was at a fundamental level? If he could, then how would he go about doing that? The answer was¡­ he had absolutely no bloody idea. ¡®Moving on!¡¯ he said to himself. Option two, getting rid of them. The memories found their way in, so there should be a path through his soul space where he could spit them back out. Of course, doing so would require him to figure out the ¡®why¡¯ and ¡®how¡¯ of how they had gotten there in the first place. Reaching out with his senses, he tried to see past the memories and look at the rest of his soul space. There was likely some ingress point or place where his soul connected to the outside world. His panicked searches showed him nothing, as he could barely sense anything other than the cloud of memories that hung over the entire area in a fog. ¡®This is pointless. Assuming there is some release valve or soul-anus is just wishful thinking,¡¯ he thought to himself. He couldn¡¯t stop his mind from focusing on the question of how they had gotten there. Yes, he realized where they had come from and what they were. But that didn¡¯t help him understand what in the hell they were doing here¡­ inside him. Cringing at the wording of his thoughts, Nero panted in pain as he curled up into a ball on the floor of his soul. He felt his center buckling under the growing pressure. It felt like his entire being was being pressed down on by the weight of the memories begging him to look at them. They were all demanding his attention, poking at him and shouting for him to acknowledge them. Mumbling to himself as he thought out loud, he said, ¡°OK. So, obviously, these are the essence signatures from stuff from the other plane. They came from the soul stuff I filtered through my center and used to power my spells. So, can I just ¡®reverse cast¡¯ or something to get rid of them? No, of course not, because that¡¯s not a thing.¡± The problem was that they were no longer essence streams out in the ether. They were already inside his center, or at least close enough for that distinction not to matter. It was too late to treat them like free-floating essence balls and instead had to treat them like what they were¡­ memories and identities all of their own. His clenched eyes opened wide as he shouted, ¡°Enchanting!¡± Nero remembered his one singular lesson on enchanting that Archmage Jennings had once given him. The lesson had actually been about delving, but Nero skillfully ignored that unimportant detail. From what he remembered, enchanting was using one¡¯s center to overwrite a thing¡¯s identity with one that the enchanter created. A skilled enchanter could create something out of raw essence, creating an identity out of nothing. Following that, Nero assumed that the potential used during the process came from the enchanter¡¯s center, with the essence providing the material. Well, Nero didn¡¯t need to create anything. All he needed to do was overwrite the essence signature or identity of the memories with his own. He needed to do the opposite of what it was doing to him. He needed to imbue them with ¡®Nero¡¯ the same way they were trying to imbue him with ¡®Them¡¯. Still curled up in a ball, he weakly held up a hand toward the cloud and called forth one of the smaller memories. As it drifted out of the cloud, he struggled not to actually connect with it. He didn¡¯t want to see it, he just wanted to touch it. Cupping it with his hand, he brought it to his chest and stared at it. He held it in front of him like a football, seemingly protecting it from the rest of the could hovering all around him. Trying to focus, he consciously wrapped it up in some of his center, delicately pulling it out of his body like threads coming off a ball of yarn. It took a great deal of effort, and all the while he could feel himself weakening. The more he pulled out of his center, the more indistinct and weaker he felt. It felt like he was disappearing, becoming ¡®less¡¯ than he was before. His thoughts slowed, whatever passed for his body in this place cooled, and he couldn¡¯t stop his eyes from closing as he curled tighter into a ball like a spider dying from a douchebag kid spraying it with pesticide. But, he persevered. By sheer force of will, he held on. More and more of his center slipped into the memory, coloring it. The last sight he saw before his eyes closed was the cloud of memories becoming more and more like a hardened ball of golden candy. Eventually, his thoughts failed¡­ and there was nothing left¡­ just darkness and quiet. Nero came to with a start. Instead of seeing with his eyes, his senses were spread out in a 360-degree field all around him. He¡¯d felt something like this before. It was like he was having another out-of-body experience. It was a situation he was growing more and more comfortable finding himself in. The cloud of memories was still just as oppressive as before, but now there was an addition to his soul space. In front of him, he saw the hazy shape of a body sitting there in front of him. It was fading quickly, seemingly disappearing right in front of him. ¡®What the hell am I doing outside of my body?¡¯ he wondered before hurling himself at the indistinct shape that was curled around itself like a child who¡¯d died from the cold during a snowstorm. Coming to with a gasp, Nero felt his connection with his body reestablish itself. A sudden understanding of what happened slammed into his mind like a shroom-induced epiphany. ¡®I took over the memory!¡¯ he thought to himself in glee. Somehow, he¡¯d poured everything he was into the memory, successfully overwriting it. He could even feel the remnants of what the memory used to be hovering in the background of his mind. Rather than the memory being a memory, it was more like a half-forgotten movie he¡¯d watched but not really paid attention to. The memory he¡¯d taken over was one from a helmet. He could sort of remember at one time being forged. The asshole kobalds kept reheating him and pounding on him until he eventually took the shape that they¡¯d wanted. Rather than remembering what the helmet had felt about what had been happening to it at the time, Nero recalled how ¡®he¡¯ would have felt about experiencing what it had gone through. But, even then, the memory was hazy and more like a dream or maybe a thought experiment. It had in no way affected him as a person. If anything, the added experience made him feel as if he was more himself than ever. He was almost positive that his center had grown stronger¡­ or maybe bigger. ¡®That hazy image of my body must have been my former connection to my body that I had abandoned while I poured everything in my center into the memory. This time, I didn¡¯t just body-jack someone, I soul-jacked them! Well, it wasn¡¯t a person, it was a helmet¡­ but for a first attempt, it wasn¡¯t too shabby,¡¯ he thought to himself with a grin. While the experience was in no way pleasant, and he still felt like he was being pressed into the ground by all the memories waiting for their turn, Nero finally felt like he had a way through this debacle. All he had to do was continually kill himself by taking over the memories one after another until they were all ¡®Nero¡¯ and he was all that was left. The memories themselves had no will, no ego. They were nothing more than life experiences waiting for him to incorporate into his center. It would take time, but he could do it. Looking around, he thought of the perfect quote for the situation he¡¯d found himself in¡­¡¯I¡¯m not locked in here with them. They¡¯re locked in here with me!¡¯ ¡°Better start with the smaller ones before I try to tackle anything too big,¡± he muttered to himself. He could already imagine a scenario where he tried to take over an identity stronger than himself and ending up failing to take control of it, thereby likely killing himself in the attempt. But, he doubted it would be a problem. There were a lot of weak-willed crap memories from helmets and rocks floating around he could deal with before he got to the kobalds that were probably out there waiting for him somewhere in the cloud. Who knows¡­ this might all end up growing his center enough to earn him a few levels by the time he was finished cleaning up the place. ¡®Wait¡­ will I have a memory of THIS experience to later review and incorporate into my center? How would that work? Seems a little reductive? ¡®Reductive¡¯ is the right word, right? Maybe ¡®circular¡¯?... Not the time! Focus, man. Semantics and word choice aside, now is the time for soul-eating! Embrace your inner demon!¡¯ he said to himself while attempting to concentrate. Firming his resolve, he forced himself up into a seated position before reaching out for his next identity fraud victim. Muttering grandly to himself, he said, ¡°The Nero is all, and all shall be Nero! Resistance is futile.¡± Chuckling madly at how clever and funny he was, he began wrapping his center around the small cloud of memories in his hands. Chapter 275 - Youre perfect just the way you are. Archmage Jennings stood off to the side of the city lord¡¯s reception party outside the gate. He was close enough to indicate his support, but not so close as to be considered one of her retinue. While dwarves as a species usually ignored political nuances, he was sure they would understand what he was implying. Sending out a quick scry, he confirmed that the Battleborns should soon be arriving. After sighing in annoyance at circumstances having forced him to be here, he turned his head to the arriving Grandmaster of the local order of Knights. He raised his eyebrows to demonstrate his surprise at him choosing to make an appearance. While he¡¯d, in fact, noticed him coming from the moment he entered the district, it was much easier to prompt the answer to the question of what he was doing here by pretending he hadn¡¯t. The towering Grandmaster walked up calmly to take his place beside the archmage, his entire presence like a fixed point of essence in the ether that forced the surrounding essence flows to move around him. ¡°I see you¡¯ve decided to make your presence known as well,¡± Grandmaster Lancel noted before staring off into the distance toward the arriving dwarves. ¡®So he¡¯s here to intimidate the dwarves into behaving, and assumes the same for me,¡¯ thought Jennings. Rather than explain to the man that he was only here because as acting court mage he was ¡®required¡¯ to be, Jennings merely hummed in acknowledgment. Jennings could feel the Grandmaster turning his head to look down at him as he asked, ¡°Do you not find it strange that the capital hasn¡¯t deployed the Populators to greet them? Isn¡¯t that what normally happens when Battleborns visit cities near the dwarven mountains?¡± The archmage couldn¡¯t stop himself from scoffing while gesturing with his thumb over his shoulder. ¡°They¡¯re over there. Presumably, they¡¯re only here to make sure the dwarves don¡¯t level the city with their ¡®help¡¯.¡± Surprised, the Grandmaster looked behind him, glancing around in confusion. ¡°I don¡¯t sense them¡­ How are they hiding their presence so completely? The ether here still isn¡¯t dense enough to allow for full invisibility,¡± he asked while frowning in concentration and straining his senses. Archmage Jennings rolled his eyes and replied, ¡°Of course there is! But that¡¯s not what they¡¯re doing. They¡¯ve just currently slipped over to an adjacent dimension so they won¡¯t be detected by the dwarven rune mages among the Battleborns.¡± Opening his eyes wide in shock, Grandmaster Lancel replied, ¡°Are they mad?!? Planar travel will aid in destabilizing the region and increase the speed at which the enemy''s plan will come to fruition!¡± Fully turning his head to stare up at the large meathead, the archmage replied icily, ¡°No. It won¡¯t. And what they¡¯re doing isn¡¯t planar travel! It¡¯s¡­¡± pausing midsentence, he took a deep breath and calmed himself. ¡°Just¡­. Just stand there and look intimidating. Leave the higher level magics to those who are capable of understanding them.¡± Well used to the archmage¡¯s prickly personality, the grandmaster went silent while grunting in what could charitably called an acknowledgment of Jenning¡¯s point. They stood in silence for a few minutes, waiting for the dwarves to arrive. Both of them passed the time by watching the nervous council of leadership whispering to each other in panic around the city lord in amusement. Unconsciously straightening up upon their arrival, Archmage Jennings watched as the dwarves sprinted down the outer city¡¯s main road like boars charging toward their victims. Slamming to a stop in the middle of the street, the armor-clad dwarves made quite the sight in their rune-forged armors. Each of them was wielding weapons that blazed in the ether like veritable beacons of essence. Jennings couldn¡¯t help but be impressed, like always, by the dwarves'' ability to enchant anything and everything with their runes. While not nearly as powerful as the magic system he preferred to use, he was able to see the advantages in how they chose to do things. While the city lord began her greeting, the dwarves walked right by her as if she were less than inconsequential. ¡°Yer that archmage we were told is too stubborn to handle this himself,¡± the dwarf in front offered as a greeting. Before Jennings could respond, the dwarf turned to the grandmaster and added, ¡°But who¡¯re you? Ye look like ye can handle yerself. Why haven¡¯t ye handled this?¡± Glaring at the dwarves, Jennings replied icily, ¡°You know that our laws prohibit the strong from interfering with the paths of those below them. Pretending ignorance won¡¯t absolve you of the consequences of your choices.¡± As the dwarves remained staring up at the grandmaster, ignoring Jennings completely, the grandmaster replied, ¡°I am the leader of the local chapter of the Knights of Oglivarch. While I may not be legally able to take direct action in the case of local threats like these kobalds, I am more than able to defend this city from outside forces that choose to make themselves known.¡± The dwarves all burst out into laughter, as they were all at least five to ten levels stronger than he was. That being said, they appeared to appreciate his subtle threat as courage in the face of certain death was something they could understand. ¡°Well said, laddie. And while I¡¯d enjoy putting ye in yer place, we¡¯ve got a mission to get done. So, if ye¡¯ll all step out of the way, we¡¯ll be on our way. We mean no harm to yer city, and we¡¯ll be out of yer beards in no time,¡± he said while grinning from ear to ear. Archmage Jennings wasn¡¯t used to being ignored. He knew they were likely well aware that he alone could kill them all without breaking a sweat, even with how thin the ether here was. Likely their casual disregard for him was due to him being a mage rather than a warrior. ¡°There is no need for you to concern yourselves. We¡¯ll handle the kobalds in good time. If the local forces cannot stop the anchoring ritual from activating, we have forces in place who will handle it. You and your city will not be in any danger of being planarly displaced,¡± Jennings stated emphatically. Frowning in annoyance, the dwarf in charge replied, ¡°There is no point in waiting. Too much could go wrong. Best to handle it now before they manage to connect the planes.¡± Jennings, not caring in the least for the dwarves'' position, replied, ¡°I assure you, we¡¯ll handle it. Should the portal open, which at the earliest should still be a few hours from now, it would take at least a week before the connection spreads far enough to be an actual danger to anyone. There will be plenty of time for the local forces to dispatch their army to close it.¡± Right as the surly dwarf was about to offer his counterpoint, everyone near the gate went silent and turned toward the mountain hovering over the city behind them. The ether around them roiled in shock as the essence flows constricted. Even from where they were, they could feel the foreign essence reaching out and gripping the entire area. The dwarf broke the silence by scoffing loudly and barking, ¡°Oi, ye were sayin¡¯?¡± Archmage Jennings could feel his face turning red in embarrassment. He couldn¡¯t help but lament the inconvenient timing of the kobald¡¯s success. ¡°Yes, well, even with the anchor in place, it will still be at least a week before there is any threat to your city,¡± he stated as firmly as he could while knowing that he sounded somewhat sheepish. The dwarven leader turned his head, offering his subordinates a nod before turning back to Jennings and growling out his reply, ¡°Ye humans are always so hells be damned bent on letting things play out that ye end up killing yerselves by the city load. There is a time te let the young learn to handle things themselves, but there¡¯s also a time when ye need to step forward and defend them. We¡¯ll not let yer stupid human politics get in the way of protectin¡¯ our new city. Ye, can come along if ye want, but we¡¯re closing that portal and finishing this. If ye want to stop us, ye should probably change out of yer fancy robes first and find yerself an axe,¡± pausing to look at Archmage Jennings¡¯ robes with disdain, he added, ¡°I¡¯d recommend some armor too, ye look like a merchant.¡± Without another word, the entire dwarven contingent disappeared. There was no flash of essence, no tremble in the ether¡­ they were just¡­ gone. The very moment after they¡¯d vanished, the archmage realized what had happened. One of them must be an incredibly accomplished rune mage who¡¯d successfully cast a shielded localized teleport spell. What was impressive was that they¡¯d managed to do it without him noticing. Hiding runes like that required wrapping them in the essence flows manually, a feat which was theoretically possible but practically very unlikely. Even more impressive was the fact that the rune mage must have taken advantage of the open gate to thread their teleport path through the city¡¯s streets all the way to the mountain while the dwarf in charge had been talking. This text was taken from Royal Road. Help the author by reading the original version there. While he was considering the mechanics of how the dwarves had accomplished their escape, he felt the Populators who were watching from their dimension disappear, likely chasing after the dwarves toward the mountain. He was brought out of his thoughts by the sound of Grandmaster Lancel asking, ¡°Was that teleportation? I didn¡¯t feel anything. How¡¯d they do that? I was under the impression that local teleportation like that was impossible by any unauthorized -¡± Sighing audibly at the clueless meathead beside him, the archmage ignored him and teleported back to the Tower of Magic to watch how this all ended up playing out. His only consolation was that the emergency teleport spell he¡¯d linked to Lord Walker in the case of his death was still active. Whatever happened, he needed that stupid planar anomaly wrapped in a human to survive this disaster intact. ¡ª-- Things were going well¡­ or more accurately about as well as they could go considering the circumstances. Nero was chewing through the smaller memories at an ever-increasing rate. The amount of stuff he was incorporating was insane. Small plants that had been trying to force their way up to the sky between the paving stone cracks, clusters of fungi of indeterminate size, something that resembled an intricately handmade pocket watch which for some reason didn¡¯t tell time but instead predicted the weather¡­ so many random idententies. One by one he infused them with his essence and unapologetically overwrote them. The process quickly became as predictable as it was annoying, and after a while, he stopped bothering to reconnect with his body between sessions. It was simply too inefficient, not to mention bothersome. After every infusion/absorption Nero felt his body becoming harder and harder to fit into. It was like his center no longer fit. He eventually felt like he was trying to shove too many shirts into his laundry bag. It wasn¡¯t as if he didn¡¯t recognize that it was a problem. The issue was that he currently didn¡¯t have any idea what to do about it. So, he did was he always did and temporarily decided to ignore the problem. For the time being, he was more concerned about the omnipresent sense of pressure that was still bearing down on him from the cloud of memories and potential surrounding him like a crowd of angry petitioners demanding his time. He¡¯d always been better at dealing with the problems in front of him than worrying about those that weren¡¯t immediately threatening him. So, he continued with what he was doing. On and on it went. A poorly made shin guard that had been smithed by a kobald named D¡¯karr who had been running late for dinner when he¡¯d made it, the first sword made by a young blacksmith which had been deemed acceptable by his mentor, a snack made from grains and some kind of sugar equivalent which had been hidden away in a pouch by one of the soldiers waiting for their turn at the portal, and countless stips of metal which served as currency. All of it quickly blended together into a tapestry of memories that Nero couldn¡¯t actually recall experiencing. For him, it was like suddenly having the knowledge that he¡¯d gained from watching documentaries on a subject without ever remembering watching them. Which, in many ways, was exactly how he felt about most of the documentaries he¡¯d seen back home. He¡¯d experienced Shark Week like everyone else at some point. But while he could remember that sharks'' teeth were able to be regrown and that they had to keep swimming in order to keep breathing, he couldn¡¯t remember the actual episode where he¡¯d heard them talking about it. It was all just random knowledge that was just¡­ there. Sure, there were flashes of experiences to go along with the knowledge, but he didn¡¯t feel all that connected to them. Were anybody to actually ask him about the life cycle of the plants he¡¯d experienced, he¡¯d be able to talk about how they stretched out their roots while expanding toward the sun. What he couldn¡¯t do was name the odd things they wanted from the ground, like nitrates or whatever else they needed to survive. He wouldn¡¯t even know what the plant itself was called. All he would be able to do was chat away about the plants wanting stuff and struggling to live. There was a bit of empathy involved about what they¡¯d gone through, but that was it. He didn¡¯t feel particularly strongly about them or even cared all that much that they¡¯d existed. It was all just background experience that floated around in the back of his metaphysical noggin¡¯. Luckily, he never seemed to get ¡®full¡¯. In fact, the task continued to get easier the more memories he absorbed. After the first ten¡­ or maybe ten hundred¡­ he was pulling them in and taking them over before he even realized he was doing it. It had become almost a reflex at this point. Sadly, he eventually ran out of the smaller, less dense, memories and was forced to begin confronting the larger ones. The experience of absorbing his first kobald ended up snapping him out of his trance. Rather than moving on to the next one, he stopped his frantic soul-hopping, pausing in reflection after what he¡¯d just gone through. It hadn¡¯t been nearly as hard as he thought it would be. However, it was jarring to the point of having him bobbing around as a ball of center like a ten-pound sack of gelatin that had just been slapped. ¡®OK¡­ that was just weird,¡¯ he thought to himself as he mentally checked himself out for after-effects. The experience of taking over and absorbing the potential from a sentient being was drastically different than what he¡¯d experienced with the objects he¡¯d absorbed before. Where random stuff felt like he¡¯d been watching a documentary, taking over a kobald felt like he¡¯d participated in a play. Well, not exactly, as he couldn¡¯t recall anything about actually ¡®being¡¯ a kobald, but he was able to recall what it felt to play one on TV. The things about the kobald¡¯s life that he could relate to seemed to be highlighted in his recollections without the specifics to go along with them. Rather than providing a new perspective, it was more like he¡¯d reinforced himself by grabbing on to the strength of feelings that the kobald had about whatever it was that they¡¯d used to care about. Nero found the entire experience more than a little unsettling. Thinking about it logically, he could see how it had happened. What he was doing was overwriting their personality and being and replacing it with his own. There were bound to be some things that he¡¯d had in common with the kobald¡¯s mental imprint. Since the memory of the kobald had no chance to influence him, anywhere that Nero found similarities with his own wasn¡¯t overwritten and instead was reinforced. When trying to wrap his head around the concept, he recalled a half-watched lecture on waves where some nerd in a bowtie had gone on and on about resonating waveforms. ¡®It¡¯s probably more similar to a person arriving at a convention center for whatever crap they were into and hearing a ton of other dorks agreeing with them. Afterward, they inevitably end up coming to the mistaken conclusion that they¡¯re not as weird as they thought they were since everyone around them is just as big a nerd as they are,¡¯ he noted to himself before shaking off the inner sense of validation that was permeating his very being. Glancing around at the still massive cloud of memories hanging around him, he reminded himself to keep it together before pulling out another kobald memory and getting to work. He had no idea how long it took him, but as time passed, the cloud of kobald memories began to shrink. Every one of them was different. And each one of them provided him glimpses of their otherworldly lives and perspectives while serving as a mental backdrop, somehow making him sure that he was and always had been¡­ ¡®right¡¯. Whatever he believed was correct, and however he saw the world, his opinion was in every sense of the word, the truth. If Nero weren¡¯t who he was, and had never experienced the insanity of Reddit, he¡¯d probably end up walking out of this experience thinking that he was the most sane person ever to have existed in any world in the multi/omni-verse. He¡¯d go about proclaiming to one and all that he knew everything and anyone who disagreed with him was an idiot. People would probably end up killing him just to shut him up. However, if he were honest with himself, he had to admit that it was equally likely that no one would even notice the difference¡­ which somewhat soured the judgemental image of the imagined self he was building in his head. That being said, he¡¯d grown up believing that nothing was true, and at best, a person could only be a little bit more ¡®right¡¯ than anyone else. The important thing was pretending that you were and even more importantly SOUNDING like you were. So, while it was nice on many levels to feel like his sense of identity was being validated, he recognized the trap for what it was and didn¡¯t allow himself to get too caught up in it. When he finally took over the last kobald memory in his soulscape, he was left feeling more like himself than ever. For better or worse. Looking around his soulscape, he was surprised to see the changes that had occurred. Gone was the path under his feet, along with the mountain in the distance. All that was left was the forest and its shadows. Instead of there being a feeling of infinite possibilities and adventure, all he could feel was a pervasive sense of infinity and the surety that he was completely lost. He was no longer moving through the forest on his way to some ultimate goal, instead, he was just some guy in the woods who had no idea where he was. Turning away from the oppressive sight of the infinite forest around him, he stared down at the nearly faded body that he used to inhabit. As nothing more than a floating ball of fully realized potential, he wondered for a moment whether it was worth even trying to go back. Being a self-assured ball of utterly pure wisdom and awesomeness felt great. He didn¡¯t immediately see a need to go back and experience any more life. He was also sure that he¡¯d eventually find a way out of here¡­ probably. Glancing at the scary forest around him, he would have frowned in confusion if he still had eyebrows. ¡®Am I really considering just giving up and calling this as far as I will go? No body, no life. No more experiences¡­ this will be all that I will ever be. Granted, I¡¯m perfect¡­ but I could be¡­ perfecter¡­ more perfect?¡¯ he thought to himself while returning his attention to his body. He could see that the connection was almost gone. It felt like it led to something that was familiar, but no longer right for him. It was like he was a happily married middle-aged accountant looking at his yearbook photo which he¡¯d come across while cleaning out the garage. He simply wasn¡¯t that guy anymore. Recognizing the problem, Nero thought he just might need to infuse some of his new essence into it. He¡¯d probably gained more than a few levels and therefore saved up plenty of stars of potential. Now more than ever, he understood that the stars were there to shape the vessels at the direction of his soul. All it would take was using some stars to reinforce the connection he had with his body and mind so that his soul would be in harmony with his presence on the material plane. ¡®Easy peasy,¡¯ he told himself. Reaching out with his little tendrils of potential, he took hold of the connection and reached out with his identity¡­ and found nothing. His identity panel was gone. His connection with the world was gone. He was cut off. Completely on his own. ¡®Well¡­ shit,¡¯ he thought to himself before wondering how he was going to tackle this new and totally unavoidable problem that he in no way should have seen coming and had definitely not made worse by ignoring. Chapter 276 - Be the you you want to be. After arriving back in private quarters, Archmage Jennings immediately began reworking his scrying spell to overcome the changes occurring in the ether around the anchor point. The interplanar connection was flooding the area with changing essence signatures and he didn¡¯t feel like putting in the effort to compensate for it when he could just have the Tower of Magic do it for him. Plopping down into his chair with a sigh, he poured himself some coffee to combat his stress headache and waited for the scrying stabilizers to finish their calculations. Closing his eyes with a wince, he focused on the numerous connections from the mage council, the local leadership council, and whoever else was trying to contact him. Pushing them all to the back of his mind and locking them down, he sighed in relief as he took a sip from his favorite cup while letting the tension in his shoulders slowly fall away. Right on time, he received an alert from the tower telling him that his scry was back online and available for viewing. Turning his attention back to the battle, he watched as the extra-planar kobalds fought with Lord Walker¡¯s forces. Ignoring that, he quickly located Lord Walker and watched as he slipped through the fighting using the technique the young man had picked up from the evaluators. Chuckling to himself, Archmage Jennings noted, ¡®He¡¯s gotten surprisingly good at that, surprisingly fast. What a remarkable ability he has¡­¡¯ Seeing as how Lord Walker had begun doing something with the portal, the archmage began manipulating the tower¡¯s controls to try and figure out exactly what was happening. While he himself didn¡¯t have the talent to observe the essence flows in the way Lord Walker could, with the help of the tower he was at least able to understand what the young man was doing. Perking up in his chair, he watched in awe as he tried to follow along with Lord Walker¡¯s efforts. ¡®Fascinating¡­ he¡¯s separating the entwined essence flows manually,¡¯ he thought to himself as he watched the anchor point slowly destabilize. When the interplanar forces that had been in tension finally gave out, winking the portal away, he couldn¡¯t stop himself from chuckling at how much foreign essence had been left behind. It wasn¡¯t enough to be considered a successful extraplanar expedition, but it was more than enough to earn the young man a title or two if he hadn¡¯t already been awarded the title of a unique. Regardless, the capital would have to tack on another reward to the multiple ones waiting for him when he eventually made his way to Hennings. By increasing the amount of essence on their plane, he strengthened their world at the expense of the one that had tried to invade them. He hadn¡¯t just successfully repelled the invasion, he¡¯d reverse-invaded THEM. ¡°Remarkable!¡± he muttered as he enthusiastically went over the data. While he was in the grip of his scientific interest, he wasn¡¯t paying attention to what was happening with the battle. His mind was racing with ideas on how he could adapt what Lord Walker had done to aid in the kingdom¡¯s efforts to raid other planes for more essence when the part of his mind that had been maintaining the scry alerted him to what Lord Walker was doing. Dropping his jaw in shock, he quickly began reconfiguring the tower¡¯s observational matrixes to show him the extraplanar essence that had been left behind when the portal had closed. Standing up from his chair and slamming both his palms on his desk, he shouted into the air, ¡°What are you doing? Stop that!¡± The moronic young man was directly injecting himself with essence that had not been filtered through the world around him. He was going to obliterate himself. Punching his desk in a futile effort to release his anger, he watched as Lord Walker collapsed back onto the pile of dead kobalds he¡¯d been using as a firing position. The Archmage wasn¡¯t sure what to do. Despite how quickly his mind worked, he couldn¡¯t think of a method to save him. Even if he teleported there right now, it would be too late. The damage to the young man¡¯s center was already done. Hating himself for a moment concerning how absolutely right he always was, he watched as Lord Walker¡¯s dead body appeared on the floor of his quarters due to the emergency teleport spell he¡¯d had in place. Grumbling curses left and right, he raced around his desk toward the corpse, immediately reaching out with a delving spell to try and see if there was anything he could do. Collapsing onto his knees, he gritted his teeth in anger at the waste of potentially his greatest chance at achieving true ascension. There was still so much he needed to learn from observing the young anomaly. No matter how hard he searched, there was no sign of Lord Walker¡¯s center. He was gone¡­ his soul scoured clean of identity. Aside from a small tether leading off into the higher planes, there was no sign of it ever having even been there. It was most assuredly a case of complete and utter soul death. ¡°Stupid¡­ Stupid boy¡­¡± he muttered in sadness. Rubbing his temples to alleviate the headache which had returned with a vengeance, he tried to distract himself by watching the arriving Battleborns wipe out the remainder of the kobalds. The Populators were right behind them, practically guaranteeing a political nightmare he knew he¡¯d eventually be dragged into. ¡°I never should have left my tower,¡± he muttered to himself. ¡ª-- The concentrated ball of essence that was Nero floated in silence within his soul space, staring blankly at its former body while suffering from decision paralysis. Although to be fair, it hadn¡¯t originally been his to begin with¡­ he¡¯d only appropriated it after seeing it abandoned by its former occupant. His original body was probably nothing but mulch back on earth somewhere. He¡¯d never bothered with a will, so he couldn¡¯t possibly guess as to what had happened to it. No longer having a body to go back to as an option, Nero immediately began thinking of himself as a displaced soul. His thoughts flitted through potential ideas as to how he should handle this new and decidedly unpleasant little wrinkle. Before anything else, now that he was once again just a soul he obviously needed a new body¡­ Wait, was he a soul? His senses allowed him to see everything around him, including himself, and while in many ways he resembled what he remembered a soul looked like, his appearance wasn¡¯t the same as what he¡¯d remembered. While he couldn¡¯t recall what exactly he¡¯d experienced while he¡¯d floated around this universe looking for a body, he had no trouble remembering his journey through the void before he¡¯d arrived here. Back then, when he¡¯d been nothing more than an incorporeal soul flittering around the heavens, he¡¯d resembled a loose ball of energy, a flaming ball of burning cotton candy. He hadn¡¯t been made up of essence or anything that could be considered ¡®matter¡¯. Not to mention that he sure as shit hadn¡¯t been golden, or had he? He couldn¡¯t remember. That didn¡¯t matter. What mattered was that now that he thought about it, he was currently inside his soul space, which he assumed was located inside his soul. So, unless his existence had become an Esher painting, something else was going on here. If he¡¯d had a chin to scratch to express his utter confusion, he would have done so. Looking down at his fading connection to his body, he wondered if the answer to his questions might be on the other side of that ethereal tunnel. But, considering how slowly it was fading, he thought it might be worth looking around a bit more before committing himself to trying to survive the trip. His senses were still available, and he still had options. Before doing anything drastic, he instead focused on trying to figure out what he now was. Turning his senses inward, he looked at himself. He really was nothing more than a ball of ¡®Nero¡¯ essence. But something about his own makeup was bugging him. There had to be a connection to his soul somewhere around here, didn¡¯t there? If it wasn¡¯t outside him, then there was only one other place to look. Reaching down with his senses into the ball of essence in which he currently resided, he poked around for a bit before he finally found it. Just as he¡¯d thought, there was in fact a connection leading off into somewhere else. Suddenly realizing what was going on. Nero mentally summarized his situation. ¡®I¡¯m currently only my mind. My soul, body, and mind are currently just disconnected. Souls can¡¯t affect anything on the plane of existence without a mind and body, so the connection to my soul probably leads to wherever it is in the outer planes. My body is still probably back on the material plane, hopefully not being enjoyed by kobalds as a victory snack,¡¯ he thought to himself. He already knew that he could survive as just a soul, so fixing that connection should probably be his first priority. Ensure your favorite authors get the support they deserve. Read this novel on Royal Road. No longer worrying about the consequences, he reached down deep into himself and delved into the connection leading off toward his soul. His senses were immediately assaulted with information that had him questioning the intelligence of his decision. Much like the time when he¡¯d delved into the essence disturbance, his mind began receiving background information like it was downloading the truths of what was on the other side. Like his mind was enjoying the most potent acid trip he could ever imagine, he suddenly understood how his soul was connected to the material plane. It wasn¡¯t like the soul could ever actually fully appear outside of the outer planes. It was more like an iceberg simply poking up through the water with the majority of it remaining below. It didn¡¯t exist anywhere specific, as the outer planes were everywhere and nowhere. Physical reality was required for something to have a place in spatial existence. So, the soul could only poke itself into the material plane, and wherever it popped up¡­ there it was. To have a place, it needed an anchor¡­ a body. And to have a way of understanding what was happening, it needed a mind¡­ one that had been built from compatible metaphysical materials like essence. The sudden understanding of how this one little aspect of reality actually worked almost shattered his mind. He felt his entire existence trembling as he tried not to think too much about it. Of course, he still had questions. Like, if he had no issue existing as a soul before he¡¯d arrived in this universe, then why couldn¡¯t he do so now? Also, was he currently just his mind, or was he still a projection of his soul? But, while he could probably find out the answers to those questions by thinking about them, it was all he could do to keep himself together while he focused on reinforcing his connection with his soul. The connection point was both right inside him and so¡­ so¡­ far away. Trying not to think too much about it, he bent the entirety of his thoughts onto the task of rebuilding his connection. He felt parts of his little ball of essence being used up as he imagined the connection reestablishing itself. When it snapped into place, he felt it immediately. It felt like he¡¯d been nothing more than a phone without a wifi connection. But, now, the connection was back up and he was now able to sync with the cloud. His soul, of course, serving as the role of the cloud in this analogy. Flashes of his time floating around looking for a body flitted through his mind. Half-forgotten memories assaulted him like sledgehammers, his mind struggling to comprehend his existence during that time. The connection went both ways and he could feel himself becoming both more and less at the same time. His soul pulled on him, copying and altering itself to more resemble his current existence. While the little ball of essence that made up his center was now less than it was before, he felt more complete¡­ more whole. The connection was now solid. In the core of his being, he could feel it. If he still had lips, he¡¯d be grinning like a lunatic. Retreating out of his center, he returned to his soul space eager to do the same with his body. But, when he reached out to it, he found the experience altogether different than what he¡¯d expected. The connection with his body was not even remotely as easy to access as the one he¡¯d had with his soul. Instead of feeling like he was right next to it, he felt like it was incredibly far away. While he could still sense it, it was nowhere near where he currently was. And even worse, he had no ability to follow it. ¡®Did some asshole steal my body?¡¯ he wondered. That was the only conclusion he could come to. On the other side of the connection, he could sense the material plane. He recognized it clearly, as he¡¯d become somewhat familiar with how it felt. While he couldn¡¯t see anything, he was still absolutely sure that there was no body there for him to go back to. Wherever his current connection led, it was nothing more than just some ¡®place¡¯ on the material plane. If he went back there now, he¡¯d be nothing more than a ball of soul stuff. Granted, he¡¯d probably be a big ass ball of soul stuff compared to the ones he¡¯d gobbled up to use as fuel for his spells. However, he didn¡¯t doubt for a moment that he¡¯d begin fading away just like they did without a body to protect them. He could just imagine how it would happen. The world would begin digesting his mind as it did with everything else, incorporating it into the ether while pushing his connection with his soul back toward the upper planes. Even with his incomprehensible ability to stay aware of what was happening, he doubted he¡¯d be able to do anything to stop it. So, he could either try and race toward his body by hopefully following the weak connection¡­ if he could even manage to move at all, or he could¡­ well¡­ he had no idea what else he could do. Once again floating in thought, he spent longer than he probably should have considering his options, what annoyingly few of them there were. Eventually, he got fed up with the idea of just waiting there as the connection between his soul space and material reality continued to destabilize. He needed to do something¡­ anything¡­ and he needed to do it NOW. If he didn¡¯t have a body to go back to, he¡¯d just have to make one. And if he did it right, it wouldn¡¯t be just a spell construct. After all, he had plenty of potential to use for it. All he had to do was infuse enough center into it and let the essence of ¡®Nero¡¯ determine its form. Worst case scenario, nothing happened and the world ate him. He still had his soul downloaded with all his current memories, and he¡¯d eventually figure out another way to get a body¡­ he¡¯d done it before. Currently, he was nothing more than a mind without a body¡­ an incarnation of the Nero safely still existing somewhere in the outer planes. While being absorbed by the world¡¯s ether might look like death, and probably feel like death, it wouldn¡¯t actually be ¡®death¡¯ if the world ended up eating him. Having now made his decision, he didn¡¯t bother with any more nerd-like overthinking. Whatever would happen, would happen. There was no point in worrying about it. Throwing his ball of center toward the connection, he pushed with all of his being down the metaphysical tunnel back toward reality, using his weak connection with his former body as his guide. Emerging into the ether like he was intent on causing his own personal essence disturbance, he began pouring his essence out like an ink stain onto reality¡¯s pants, displacing the essence flowing around him. His senses showed him that he was still on top of the kobald pile, but for some reason, there were now a bunch of dwarves staring at him with angry faces along with a bunch of silver-clad populators. None of them looked particularly happy to see him. ¡®Is that asshole with a hammer casting something? What the hell are they even doing there? Did I get the wrong reality or something? Is this one of those mirror-world situations that I¡¯ve read about?¡¯ he wondered before dismissing the differences as currently not worth thinking about. He¡¯d deal with whatever he found AFTER he re-corporealized himself by bleeding off enough essence for the world to recognize that he was actually there. If Archmage Jennings could use his own essence to create a spike out of nothing, then he could do the same with his body. He had an entire courtyard of essence he¡¯d stolen from another plane to work with, so he doubted one little body would be too difficult to enchant. Turning his attention entirely to what he was doing, he pushed center out into the world and attempted to compress it. He didn¡¯t concern himself with what the center was actually doing and was instead entirely focused on attempting to ensure none of it was bled off into the surrounding ether. Wherever little wisps began to peel off, he clamped down on them with a vengeance. He honestly had no idea whether what he was doing was working, but he was committed enough to continue doing it while simply trusting in the fact that it would either work out or it wouldn¡¯t. He now knew for a fact that his soul was still safe wherever it was, and his being here was just an expression of his true self. There was a surprising amount of comfort in that knowledge which allowed him to focus fully on what he was doing while not concerning himself with the possible consequences. More and more center poured out of him, and he felt his ball of essence shrinking inch by inch, or at least what looked like inch by inch. Judging distance was hard for him, as he wasn¡¯t able to compare his size in the ether to his size in the material plane. There were too many dimensions to pay attention to. But, something was happening¡­ he was sure of it. While he continued to monitor the edges of the essence he¡¯d cast out, he began to see spell-form shapes come together in a tapestry of essence that was hard to describe. While he¡¯d played around with mostly two-dimensional spell forms, he¡¯d also seen more complicated ones that required three. But whatever was happening was so much more complicated than anything he¡¯d ever seen before. He¡¯d once tried to wrap his head around how a four-dimensional cube worked. He¡¯d even watched a few YouTube videos about it¡­ but he¡¯d never been able to successfully visualize it. But what he was witnessing now, it was like that times a hundred. The spell form of his body, if he could even call it that, was so far beyond what he could conceptualize that he had quickly gotten lost in all the little loops and turns that the essence was taking. Having completely lost track of time with how invested he was in what he was doing, he was almost surprised when it was over. One second, he was in the fight of his life to keep his essence from being absorbed by the essence flowing around him, and the next he was looking at a fully formed, albeit naked, Nero falling down from where it had appeared out of nothing onto the pile of kobalds below it like a corpse. He couldn¡¯t stop himself from mentally laughing his ass off as his body landed with its ass tipped up, unapologetically mooning the assembled people like a boss. While his little ball of essence was now much smaller, he could feel the body wrapping around him and the slight but present connection he had with it. All he had to do was reinforce it, and he would be able to slip right in and wear it like a coat. When he did, it felt like legos snapping together somewhere inside him. Where before, he was a separate entity, now he was just sleeping. He felt it the moment his body began pumping blood through its heart again. He could feel his brain begin firing its neurons and flooding his body with all the little chemicals that made the thing run. He was aware of everything¡­ right up until he wasn¡¯t. Everything felt normal again, and he was whole. Fluttering his eyes open, he took a deep breath before gagging and coughing. The smell of dead kobald bodies flooded his senses, and for the first time in what felt like forever, his understanding of reality was once again contained with a corporeal body. He could feel that he could still reach out to the ether like he always could, but his main senses were now all back up and running. Pushing himself slowly to his feet, he slipped on some kobald and once again faceplanted. Groaning in annoyance, he rolled over and remained sitting while he looked around. Despite so many people staring at him, and how dark it was in the former throne room. He was happy as hell to be back. He hadn¡¯t realized it, but being ¡®here¡¯, in the physical world, with time and space once again making sense¡­ it was amazing. He wanted to take a shower, to eat something, to run, to fight, to see the sky. He wanted to LIVE! But, first, he had to deal with the annoyances standing around him like disapproving parents waiting for him to realize what he¡¯d done wrong. So, he looked around at the assembled powerhouses, allowing their incredibly strong presences to roll over his senses like a wave. He could feel that they were practically warping the ether around them despite them not even meaning to. Whatever his ability was that allowed him to see and interact with the essence flows around him, it had either been enhanced or he¡¯d gotten much better at using it. Taking a moment, he lifted his hand and watched as the essence flowed and bent around him. He could see the influence both his and their essence fields were having on it. Meeting the eye-line of the closest dwarf, he said, ¡°So, are any of you going to help me up and maybe find me some pants? Or are you just going to sit there and appreciate how better-looking I am than you are when I¡¯m naked?¡± Chapter 277 - The perils of responsibility. Cathleen slipped around the jagged tip of a kobald¡¯s spear while using her own to finish off the one behind it with a thrust to its throat. Twisting her body and using the bleeding-out kobald¡¯s body as a leverage point with her spear, she hook-kicked the kobald closest to her hard enough to crush its chest and launch it into the one beside it, taking it out of the fight as well. With the immediate area around her clear, she ripped her spear out of the now-dead kobald and slammed it into one of the kobald corpses under her feet. With a small hop and a little bit of grace, she used her legs along with a single hand to raise herself up high enough to see over the fighting going on around her, her spear bending slightly to support her weight. She could see the fires that had sprung up were still blazing, thoroughly dealing with the kobalds in that entire area of the throne room. However, the explosions had stopped almost as quickly as they had started, almost making her wonder if she¡¯d imagined them. However, the aftermath made it clear that they had. Seeing that the enemy¡¯s formations had been shattered and their bodies broken, she finally had a moment to wonder who¡¯d been responsible. She angled her hips to shift her weight so the spear holding her up would begin rotating. Using the the kobald body below her as an anchored leverage point, she spun in place, her eyes scanning the entirety of the chamber as she did so. But, no matter how hard she looked for any other force than the one she¡¯d arrived with, she found nothing. Although come to think of it, the answer to the question of who¡¯d done it was obvious. She could only conclude that her little lord was the one who¡¯d saved them. After all, she¡¯d expected, even planned on the fact that he would be the one to close the portal if the kobalds managed to open it. Despite her initial goal being to stop them from doing so. Therefore, it wasn¡¯t unreasonable to assume that he must have used its destruction to wipe out the kobalds. Yet, that didn¡¯t mean she had any idea how he¡¯d done it. ¡®He must have snuck off to get close enough. The question is, where is he now?¡¯ she thought to herself. While the majority of her forces remained embattled with the surviving kobalds, she could see that the tide had turned. Without the added threat of the inter-planar kobalds coming through the gate, her Wackos were more than capable of handling the current amount of enemies in the chamber¡­ eventually. Whipping her head around at the sound of explosions coming from the throne room door, she almost fell from her perch atop her spear. Grumbling under her breath about how difficult it was to lead warriors without a command channel in place, she wondered to herself, ¡®What now?¡¯ Her fears of another threat were quickly put to rest by the sight of what looked like dwarves shooting through the doors like comets. Flying through the air, they each trailed essence as runes danced across their armored forms, leaving nothing but ruin in their wake. Pillars of fire and death shot up from the ground in the middle of the kobalds like geysers. Sharp twenty-person wide arcs of power cut through their groups into the stone floor below erupting into shrapnel that obliterated entire groups. There were only five of them, but they had instantly taken control of the battle. Like an unstoppable tide of death, they rolled over the entire chamber. The way they fought was both impressive and simple. She would barely call them spells or abilities, what they did was more like enhanced bludgeoning. Every swing of their axes and hammers shot off bursts of essence that tore apart anything in their way. While most of their movement looked like flying, she couldn¡¯t shake the feeling that they were merely jumping around like toddlers on a mattress. They didn¡¯t even look as if they were trying. Never in her life had she seen such overwhelming force so carefully controlled. In short order, her own forces were left with nothing to do but watch. The dwarves were strong enough to break the kobalds from their battle haze and send them running for the exits in hopes that they could survive. Unfortunately for them, the dwarves didn¡¯t appear to have any intention of letting them leave. Floating above the center of the chamber, one dwarf glowed like an essence lamp as runes began spinning around him in a complicated swirl of ever-moving shapes. As she watched closely, trying to understand what he was doing, she was knocked off her spear by the explosion of essence that came without warning. Shaking her head to clear her thoughts, she painfully retrieved her spear while watching the other Wackos around her do the same. Whatever the dwarf had done, it had knocked them all off their feet and shaken them. The utter silence that greeted her when she stood was baffling. The fight was completely over, and every kobald in the chamber was dead. She could feel it in the ether. Whoever that dwarf was, his presence filled the ether like a king staring down from his throne in judgment over his subjects. Caught off guard, she brandished her spear at the sound of a voice coming from behind her. Her senses told her nothing, she was sure there hadn¡¯t been anyone there. Yet, there he was, staring at her, and her spear, as if the very notion of her defending herself from him was amusing. ¡°Lass, yer the warchief of this lot, ain¡¯t ya? So, ya mind explaining where the portal we sensed opening is?¡± he asked, his tone making it clear that saying nothing would be a mistake¡­ probably a fatal one. Before she had a chance to formulate a response, another voice came out of nowhere. ¡°The danger is past. Let this city handle its trial without your interference. You no longer have any reason to be here. What happens next will not affect your people. Leave now and we¡¯ll forget this momentary lapse of judgment,¡± a gods-be-damned Populator said as their form rippled into existence off to the side. Her jaw opened in shock, she couldn¡¯t understand what was happening. First dwarves more powerful than anyone she¡¯d ever heard of appeared out of nowhere and ended the battle, now Populators? The dwarf''s armor shone with what looked could only be runes engraved all over it, while the Populator''s very recognizable liquid silver armor covered them from head to toe. It was like watching the legends she¡¯d grown up hearing about had come to life right in front of her. Was she hallucinating? What in all the hells below was going on? The dwarf spun in place to glare at the Populator with a grim look of determination on his face. ¡°Aye, the threat we¡¯d come to deal with is gone. But, I ain¡¯t leaving until I know how they did it. Closing a portal that quickly can¡¯t be done¡­ if there ever was one to begin with. Something here stinks like a drunken dwarf¡¯s armpits after a bender, and I aim to find out what. I¡¯m warnin¡¯ ya now, if ye did something to lure us here, ye¡¯ll be sorry ye did. Ya humans think yer special with yer fancy armor and trinkets, but I¡¯ll bet me beard ye¡¯ll bleed all the same as the lot over there yer healers are fumblin¡¯ about with,¡± His gruff voice rang out loud enough for his statement, or threat, to be heard by everyone in the chamber. Feeling the tension in the air growing, Cathleen knew for a fact if a fight broke out none of her Wackos would survive, let alone herself. She knew it was her responsibility to do something. She stepped forward, having no choice but to interject. ¡°Forgive me, but I can assure you there was a portal here,¡± she said while trying to project her honesty and forthrightness into the ether. Another dwarf dropped from the sky, landing loudly enough to shake the ground below him, nearly sending Cathleen back off her feet and onto her ass all over again. ¡°The lass tells it true. I can still sense the portal¡¯s ephemera. Somebody closed it from this side. No idea how though. What me senses are tellin¡¯ me don¡¯t make no sense. Whoever did it pulled half the other plane through it before they did whatever it was they did. There is so much materia in the ether that we could probably open a demi-plane here and still have some left over for some smithin¡¯,¡± he announced jovially. Taken from Royal Road, this narrative should be reported if found on Amazon. The first dwarf, the one who Cathleen now assumed was their leader, nodded in understanding before turning back to Cathleen and asking, ¡°Alright, so how¡¯d ya do it? How¡¯d ya break the link? Tell me now and we¡¯ll be on our way. Better yet, if ye can show us, ye¡¯ll be earning the gratitude of the entire dwarven nation.¡± The Populator spoke up, their voice calm and somewhat otherworldly, ¡°You¡¯re no longer aligned with the dwarven nation. As per the agreement your king signed with ours, clan Mithrilstrike is now a subsidiary nation under the auspices of Oglivarch. Anything you learn here-¡± Interrupting her with a guffaw, the dwarf replied, ¡°Ah, shut yer overly shiny trap. Dwarven cities are surrounded by as many invading portals as we have invading other planes. We¡¯ve been trying to find a safe and easy way to shut them down for ages, and if ye all know a way to do it and have been keeping it from us, ye can expect one band of Battleborns to be the least of yer problems. It¡¯ll be war, ye can be sure of that!¡± Watching the Populator¡¯s blank silver-clad face stare down at the angry and intimidating dwarf, Cathleen gulped and licked her lips before interjecting, ¡°Sir dwarf, I assure you it is not a technique or technology we have developed and kept from you. Our lord¡­ he has an ability that has earned him the title of unique in our kingdom. You may know of him, he¡¯s a friend to King Mithrilstrike. Lord Walker?¡± Cathleen was more than a little uncomfortable trying to sound submissive. She was a warrior, and politics along with caring about her tone was not something she¡¯d trained for. But, now wasn¡¯t the time for pride. She NEEDED to diffuse the situation before everyone other than these monsters was killed as an afterthought over a misunderstanding. The Populator and dwarf both slowly turned their heads to stare at her. As the dwarven leader¡¯s expression turned from confusion into a glare, the other one asked, ¡°Ye expect us to believe someone closed a portal that size¡­ manually? Ye take us for gnomes, lass?¡± The Populator spoke up, sounding somewhat hesitant, ¡°She may be telling the truth. Lord Walker has an uncanny ability to both see and interact with essence in a way that defies understanding. Reports exist stating that he¡¯s successfully disrupted a portal being actively maintained by a ritual once before. While unlikely that he was able to do the same with a permanent anchor point, it is at least within the realm of possibility.¡± Looking somewhat skeptical, the dwarf rolled his eyes before asking, ¡°Alright, say I believe ya. Where is this ¡®lord¡¯ with impossible abilities? Let me guess, he died in the attempt and is no longer available for questioning. Ye¡¯ll forgive me if I don¡¯t take yer word for it.¡± The Populator turned to Cathleen as if silently commanding her to produce him. Having no idea where the little lord was, she was about to plead ignorance before being caught off guard by a presence rushing invisibly toward her through the crowd, one she recognized. The surrounding Wackos who¡¯d been quietly watching started muttering to each other in shock as Rose appeared out of nowhere right next to Cathleen. For those who were not trained in sensing, she was nothing more than a ghost when she wanted to be. Rose visibly flinched at the sight of both dwarves and the Popultor now staring at her. Cathleen knew the young woman preferred to be unseen and unheard, so whatever she had to say must be both relevant and important. ¡°What is it? If you haven¡¯t noticed, I¡¯m a little busy?¡± Cathleen hissed. Rose, her entire body shrinking into itself under all the attention whispered, ¡°I¡¯m sorry, but you need to know. Lord Walker¡¯s body is gone!¡± Raising her eyebrows in surprise and anger, Cathleen replied, ¡°What?!? I told you to watch him. Why didn¡¯t you use the emergency signal for a recovery team?!?¡± Wincing, Rose replied, ¡°The kobalds didn¡¯t take it! When I said gone, I meant GONE. Vanished. Disappeared. After he snuck off to close the gate and massacre the kobalds, he just passed out. He was still alive, so I just covered him with some kobald bodies and watched. I was holding the flare, waiting to see if his condition changed. But, with all the fighting going on, I thought it best to wait. Then, out of nowhere, his body just disappeared. I think it was a teleport¡­ kind of. The essence signature of whatever happened looked similar at least. With the command channel down, I figured you¡¯d want to know immediately.¡± Despite how quiet Rose was trying to be, both the dwarves and Populator had no trouble hearing her. ¡°Show us where this happened?¡± the Populator demanded, their tone no longer remaining as calm as it had been before. Rose awkwardly looked over at Cathleen, before receiving a nod of permission. Seeing how poorly she was handling so many people watching her, Cathleen made a mental note to have a talk with the young woman. While Rose had a natural inclination to one day master the shadow technique, spending so much time outside of people¡¯s perception might be causing her some mental issues. It would be best to address them before they began affecting her path. Knowing that now wasn¡¯t the time for that, Cathleen held a hand on Rose¡¯s shoulder to offer her some support as the young women led them all off to where Lord Walker¡¯s body had disappeared. Behind them, every able-bodied Wacko who¡¯d been watching followed along to watch. When they approached the area that was still somehow on fire, the dwarf walking along next to the dwarven leader waved his gauntleted fist to cast some rune spell. A series of runic shapes appeared briefly before fading away into the ether, taking along with them all the fires and leaving nothing but charred kobald bodies behind. The Populator didn¡¯t even bother breaking stride as a large essence ball appeared 20 units over their head, banishing the darkness and filling the entire area with its light. Feeling Rose shiver slightly at the demonstrations of power, Cathleen patted her shoulder while urging her forward. When they arrived at a massive pile of kobald corpses, Rose¡¯s voice came out in a strained whisper that tried and failed to sound confident. ¡°This is where he was. After he caused all the fires and explosions, he just passed out. I swear, he was alive. But, then, something¡­ I don¡¯t know¡­ He just disappeared!¡± Cathleen suddenly had a thought, and she began looking around for the other dwarves she had seen. Where were they now? Had the dwarves taken Lord Walker for some reason? The Populator¡¯s voice pulled her from her musings. ¡°There is a spell echo here. A teleport signature. I believe it was a life-saving measure to recover his body in the event of his death. It was well done. Very precise.¡± Suddenly making the mental leap to understanding, Cathleen was about to accuse the archmage whom she knew had a weird fascination with her lord before one of the dwarfs shouted out in alarm, ¡°Something¡¯s coming!¡± Stepping back in shock, Cathleen pulled Rose along with her as more dwarves and Populators appeared out of nowhere. They were lined up in an arc facing toward where Lord Walker¡¯s body had been, all drawing their weapons and preparing themselves. The amount of danger their presence emitted through the ether had the hairs on the back of her neck standing up. It felt like they were readying for war. The dwarf who¡¯d alerted them said, ¡°I¡¯m not sure what it is, but it feels like a summoning.¡± A Populator who was less androgynous and more visibly female asked, ¡°Another portal? Has the anchor reestablished itself somehow?¡± One of the taller Populators who was carrying a tall and impressive staff replied, ¡°No. This isn¡¯t a portal. The Battleborn is right, it¡¯s a summoning. Class three at least.¡± A dwarf grumbled loudly, ¡°How is it finding enough ephemera to manifest? This place is weaker than that swill ya humans think is beer.¡± The Populator with the staff replied, ¡°I have no idea. This shouldn¡¯t be happening. It¡¯s not possible¡­ Unless someone is powering it with a ritual from somewhere else.¡± One of the dwarf¡¯s snorted in exasperation before replying, ¡°Not likely. We¡¯d sense the node link. This is extra-planar, I¡¯d bet me axe on it.¡± While Cathleen couldn¡¯t sense exactly what they were talking about, she could feel that something was happening in the ether. It felt like the essence in the area was being pulled in and warped. It reminded her of an essence disturbance. When it happened, she along with the rest of the people around her gasped in shock. From out of the very ether, essence began to manifest itself into reality. As if she were watching a monster dematerialize in reverse, a skeleton began forming. It happened quickly, faster than she¡¯d expected even though she¡¯d never seen anything like it. Muscle and tendons along with organs appeared before finally wrapping themselves in skin. Her little lord appeared with his arms and legs outstretched like he¡¯d been strung up. His eyes were closed and his expression was as blank as she¡¯d ever seen it. The ether boiled around her as his body floated in place above the pile of kobalds. His silver hair grew out as it whipped around his head like he was in a windstorm. Then, as fast as it had started, it was over. His body dropped to the pile of kobalds like a puppet having its strings cut. It had been high enough off the ground that it flipped more than once before landing. The undignified position it finally ended up in had the little lord baring his ass to everyone that was watching. Everyone held their breath, waiting to see what would happen. Slowly, the little lord forced himself up, before falling right back down again. His eyes were clear, and the sense of mischief she¡¯d come to expect from him was dancing in his eyes like always. Then, unfortunately, he opened his mouth and she knew for sure that it was him and that he was alright. Chapter 278 - More Nero than Nero. The armored dwarf¡¯s speed so was fast that it took Nero¡¯s brain a few seconds to register what had happened. From out of nowhere, the dwarf launched himself forward with a leap, brandishing his axe and infusing it with enough essence to overload Nero¡¯s senses. He came down with an overhead chop that somehow made his axe-head look like it was the size of a shipping container in the ether. It no doubt would have killed him, ruining the perfectly good body he¡¯d just wasted a ridiculous amount of essence building from scratch out of nothing. Well, it would have, if it weren¡¯t for the Populators that is. Nero wasn¡¯t sure which one of them did it, but one of them summoned a shield directly in front of him. However, referring to it as a shield was like someone saying they have a dog when they actually have a chihuahua¡­ inaccurate and misleading. Regardless, whatever type of shield it was, to Nero¡¯s senses it looked like a solid plate of essence that warped the ether strongly enough to separate material reality into two sides. One which he was currently on, and another one with the irate dwarf. The resulting collision was enough to shatter the surrounding essence flows, causing the reality around him to buckle. Nero¡¯s perpetual state of middling confusion due to the unfamiliar world in which he¡¯d found himself was much worse than usual after what he¡¯d just been through. Having absorbed the background knowledge along with the potential of countless inanimate objects along with multiple kobald lives hadn¡¯t been an easy thing to wrap his head around. Yet, he had, or at least he¡¯d thought he had. But, he¡¯d also just magically rebuilt his body from scratch. A feat he hadn¡¯t known was even possible. Or he might have, because when he¡¯d done it, the process seemed somewhat familiar¡­ a bit¡­ kind of. Although, he could be wrong, as the entire experience was already becoming fuzzy when he thought about it. In short, he was confused. Consequently, his perception of reality was currently hanging on by a thread. Between how odd it felt to have his entire personality magically reinforced and arriving to find himself surrounded by pissed off looking armor clad dwarves and what he easily recognized as a team of Populators, both of whom had shown up out of nowhere, Nero¡¯s sense of reality was more or less fluid at the moment. So, when his somewhat snarky request for pants was answered by the dwarf in front of him NOT with pants, but instead with what could only be described by an apocalypse-level overhead axe coming down on him like a bunker buster, he reacted in the only way he could¡­ he laughed. As the essence flows struggled to realign themselves, the material plane slowly came back into focus around him. Nero hadn¡¯t moved, hadn¡¯t flinched, hadn¡¯t done anything other than laugh. He laughed so hard that his side ached. For just a moment, he honestly wondered if he¡¯d finally lost it. But all too soon, the pressing weight of the essence fields around him brought him out of his daze, and he slowly pulled himself together. As his laughter petered out, he began paying attention to what the dwarves and Populators were arguing about. ¡°... taking him back to the capital for analysis. This is Oglivarchian soil. The matter of jurisdiction is not up for debate,¡± the short somewhat alien-looking Populator in the front stated firmly. Arranged behind the Populator facing the dwarves were the rest of his team, each one shining like beacons of power in the ether. While across from them, the dwarves replied in kind by backing their leader. Nero wasn¡¯t surprised to see that it was the one who had just tried to split him like a log of wood. ¡°Are ye mad! Ye can¡¯t be believin¡¯ the thing is still human! Whatever happened to the lad that used to be yer subject obviously changed him into something else. It¡¯ll be a kindness to kill it before his clan has to see him like this,¡± the dwarf argued hatefully. Another Populator took a step forward to join the conversation. The obviously feminine shape of her armor made her gender painfully clear. Rather than conform to the more armored look of the others, the liquid silver armor she was wearing looked like it had been painted on by very lucky armorsmiths back in the capital. ¡°You don¡¯t know that. You can¡¯t know that. All we know is that whoever this is, they have the same spiritual signature as Lord Walker. It may be him. Or, it might not be. Either way, testing needs to be done in a controlled environment to determine what or who they are,¡± she stated emotionlessly. Nero realized, of course, that they were talking about him. However considering the fact that he was still naked, still sitting down, and not to mention still on a pile of kobald corpses, he was having trouble summoning up the requisite gravitas he¡¯d need to feel comfortable injecting himself into their debate. Part of him still wasn¡¯t even sure all of this was actually happening, despite how absolutely ¡®real¡¯ everything felt. While they continued their argument, Nero was instead more interested in what was going on with the ether. He could see one of the dwarves near the back of their cohort doing something to essence flows. On the opposite side, near the back of the Populators, one of them looked like he was doing the same. Neither of them were outwardly showing any signs of casting, waving their hands, or creating spell forms, but Nero was sure they were both doing something. He just had no idea what. While he could see waves of change emanating off their essence fields, reinforcing the essence flows while reinforcing each other in an ever-expanding sphere of influence, he had no idea what technique or spell they were using to do it. As they worked, the essence became calmer and smoother, more like what he was used to seeing when he looked at the ether. It was like they were repairing the flows that had been disturbed by their leaders¡¯ actions. But, they were also somehow speeding up the process of the soul stuff in the ether breaking down all around them. While Nero had appropriated a lot of the foreign essence for his own use when he¡¯d been casting, he hadn¡¯t actually absorbed all that much of it when compared to how much had come through after the portal had closed. He could still see large areas of instability in the ether where the foreign essence was currently staking its claim. Granted, he¡¯d expected the world to eventually digest it. But whatever the dwarf and Populator were doing, it was drastically speeding up the process. And the result of their efforts was plain to see. The essence flows were not just calming down, they were becoming stronger. He could even see the reflection of what they were doing affecting the material plane around him. The air itself seemed more real, the shadows sharper, even the spectrum of light coming off of the ball of ether floating above them grew more realistic as they continued to do whatever it was they were doing. He could even see the walls in the distance beginning to look more solid. There was an overwhelming sense of solidity spreading out all around him as they worked. Nero couldn¡¯t help but wonder if this was what all of the ether in Dorchester would eventually feel like after the density shift completed what it had been doing to the region. What made the entire thing so unreal was that nobody seemed to be acknowledging what the dwarf and Populator were up to. Instead, the two groups continued to debate his fate as if that was the only thing in the world that mattered. Opposite him on the other side of the dwarves and Populators, Nero noticed the Wackos of house Walker all watching patiently as the powerhouses had their little tiff. Nero was able to lock eyes with Cathleen who was standing well away from the excitement, and he gave into the urge to give her a little wave. Seeing her eyebrows rise in shock at his audacity was almost enough to send him back into a giggle fit. Yet, something about knowing she was there also made him calm down and attempt to think rationally. ¡®Why are they all standing so far away?¡¯ he wondered. Deciding that it was time to start dealing with the issues in front of him, he realized he first needed to address the issue of pants. And while he had no idea where his trusty bag that had his spare armor currently was, he could still feel his access to his personal space. But, after trying and failing to reach into it, he was forced to try and remember the anchoring spell he¡¯d used to create the damned thing in the first place. With a little finnagling, he¡¯d hopefully be able to find a way to get it working again. Even though he could still sense the connection, for some reason, it was pathetically strained and too weak to be of any use. One of the dwarves shouted, ¡°It¡¯s casting!¡± All at once, the debate ended, and both groups snapped into battle stances brandishing their weapons at him like he¡¯d grown a second head. Nero paused what he was doing to look at them in surprise, waiting to see if they would obliterate him from the face of existence just for trying to hide his junk. Seeing as they were waiting to see what he would do, he coughed lightly into his hand to clear his throat before explaining, ¡°I¡¯m just trying to reconnect with my personal space. You know¡­ for pants. Since none of you were kind enough to find me some, I figured I¡¯d just handle it myself.¡± One of the Populators asked with a cold voice, ¡°You can no longer access your personal space?¡± Hearing the accusation in the Populator''s tone, Nero replied quickly, ¡°No. That¡¯s not what I said. I can still feel it. It¡¯s a dimension attached to my soul so I still have a connection to it. It¡¯s just that the connection is currently a little frayed. I just gotta reinforce it a bit.¡± Right before he resumed his spell, he asked sarcastically, ¡°If that¡¯s alright with all of you, of course?¡± The somewhat androgynous Populator in charge of their team replied for all of them, ¡°Go on.¡± Nero wasn¡¯t entirely sure what they were all waiting for, but clearly they were waiting for something. Not bothering to worry about it, he began carving the spell form from memory. It had been a pain in the ass to cast back when he¡¯d first learned it, and it was even more problematic now that he needed to alter it on the fly into something that would still utilize his current connection rather than building a new one, but he eventually managed to somehow make it work. Luckily for him, the spell form hadn¡¯t needed to be pretty, it only needed to snap together. After all, the dimension itself was already in place, he just needed to kick-start his connection to it. Smiling in victory, he muttered, ¡°Noice.¡± The moment he felt the connection reestablished itself, waves of something began to rush down from his soul into the dimensional space. Watching closely, he could see the edges of the little room expanding into the distance, more than doubling its size and somewhat altering how it felt when he looked at it. ¡®Well, that¡¯s convenient, and in no way something I need to worry about,¡¯ he thought to himself before putting it on his ever-expanding list of topics he eventually planned to look into. With a flourish, he pulled out a spare pair of pants he¡¯d acquired from somewhere he couldn¡¯t remember. Holding them off to the side, he grimaced while looking down between his legs at the kobald corpse he was still using as a stool. Awkwardly stumbling to his feet while trying to keep his clean pants from getting soiled by touching any of the bodies, Nero looked over at the still battle-ready dwarves and Populators asking, ¡°Do you all mind backing up a bit? I don¡¯t want to interfere with your¡­ whatever this is¡­ but I¡¯d really like to climb down now.¡± Inwardly chuckling at the sight of all the Populators and dwarves exchanging conspiratorial glances with each other, Nero waited for them all to slowly back up. From where he was, it was almost surreal to watch them stepping back, which then caused all the wackos who were 10 or 20 feet away from them to step back as well. It was like he¡¯d just caused an entire crowd of people to all take a few steps back in a coordinated retreat from his awesomeness. Shaking his head at how weird his life had become, Nero slowly stepped down from the pile of dead kobalds and cast a quick cleaning spell. Watching everyone tensing and flinching as if he were about to unleash some all-powerful world-ending attack had him rolling his eyes in amusement. ¡°You can all go about your business. I¡¯m just getting dressed. I¡¯ll be with you in a moment,¡± he said with a dismissive wave as he began pulling on his pants. Nero had never had the opportunity or need to get dressed in front of a crowd of people, but all the time he¡¯d spent in the communal showers of the military had served him well in preparation for this moment. Instead of being ashamed or awkward in the face of so many people staring at him, he just put up with it and focused on pulling out a shirt, some robes, and socks along with a pair of comfortable shoes. Unfortunately, he realized too late that he¡¯d forgotten to put on a pair of underwear first and was currently going commando. Rather than look like an idiot by taking his pants back off to address that little issue, Nero instead did the smart thing by pretending that it had been intentional and finished getting dressed. Finally looking like a noble, he cast one more cleaning spell just to be sure. But even then, he still felt like he was covered in kobald slime. He honestly couldn¡¯t remember the last time he¡¯d had a shower. To settle himself, he took a good five seconds to remember how awesome the shower was back at his estate before congratulating himself on having an estate in the first place. When he was done, he shook off the distraction of how amazing his life was. He was finally feeling ready and more like himself. Turning to the dwarves and Populators who¡¯d spent the entire time just watching him, he said, ¡°Alright, so if you¡¯re all done arguing amongst yourselves about what you¡¯re going to do with me, I¡¯d like to speak to my lawyer.¡± Suddenly paling at the thought that he might not actually have a lawyer, he looked past them to Cathleen in the distance and shouted, ¡°I do have a lawyer, right? House Walker must have hired a few by now, haven¡¯t they?¡± Seeing as Cathleen was just staring at him, not responding, he added, ¡°OK. If not a lawyer, then call Vera. I¡¯m sure she¡¯ll know how to get in contact with one.¡± Enjoying the story? Show your support by reading it on the official site. Put on the spot, Cathleen slowly approached from behind the Populators, her entire body language showing nothing but subservience to both parties. When she was within a few feet from them, but still somewhat far away from Nero, she said loudly, ¡°My lord, these are Populators. I don¡¯t believe a lawbringer will be able to help you.¡± Nodding in understanding, Nero looked over at the shiny statues of awesomeness and said, ¡°Right. Laws onto themselves, are they? Then I guess I¡¯ll just have to defend myself.¡± Straightening his shoulders, he said in a clear and firm voice, ¡°Then as the legally appointed Lord of House Walker, I¡¯d like to respectfully request a reading of the charges!¡± Fed up with the situation, the dwarf in charge of his contingent shouted at the Populators, ¡°What ¡®charges¡¯? What¡¯s this thing talkin¡¯ about?¡± One of the Populators helpfully replied, ¡°I believe he is under the impression that this is a field tribunal. Technically this is still a battlefield, even though the battle itself has ended.¡± The Populator in charge didn¡¯t bother to acknowledge either the dwarf or the Populator who¡¯d spoken, instead choosing to speak directly to Nero. ¡°You¡¯re claiming that you are Lord Nero Walker, head of House Walker?¡± Nero nodded, trying to look every bit the entitled asshole that he expected a lord in his position would be. ¡°Yes, that¡¯s right. I believe you were all discussing what to do with me. Therefore, I believe I have the right to be included in this¡­ debate,¡± he finished with a somewhat awkward wave as if he wasn¡¯t sure what to call what they were doing. The Populators behind the one in charge all exchanged looks with each other, most likely having an internal discussion over some private connection they¡¯d set up. However, the one in front continued to stare at Nero with its blank silver faceplate, unmoving and implacable. Like a statue. ¡°Do you have any proof that you are actually Lord Walker?¡± the sliver-clad Populator asked. Nero immediately replied, ¡°Do you have any proof that I¡¯m not?¡± The lead dwarf stepped forward angrily, ¡°We all saw ye arrive! An extra-planar manifestation if I ever saw one! No doubt in me mind. Whether ye be a skinwalker, a revenant, or something else¡­ ye clearly ain¡¯t no human!¡± Nero put his fists on his hips and demanded, ¡°Prove it!¡± The dwarf hefted his axe and replied, ¡°When I kill ye, ye¡¯ll not leave a corpse. That¡¯ll be proof enough for me.¡± Unconsciously gulping at the feeling of the dwarf¡¯s presence in the ether, Nero turned to the Populators and asked, ¡°I formally request to be taken to the Research Center for testing. They have records of my spiritual signature and body scans. They can confirm my identity.¡± One of the dwarfs behind the one in charge whispered something to the leader that Nero couldn¡¯t hear. Almost immediately, all the dwarfs began angrily muttering at each other. The Populator in charge stood silently, seemingly perfectly happy to wait for the dwarves to finish discussing things amongst themselves. The dwarf near the rear, the one who¡¯d been fixing the ether, broke away from the argument and took a step forward. Leaning forward on his impressive staff, his glare felt like it was boring a whole straight through Nero¡¯s soul. ¡°If yer the Lord Walker who participated in this battle. Then yer the one who closed the portal. Show us how ye did it, demonstrate the spell or technique ye used, and we¡¯ll stand aside and let the humans over there in the pretty armor deal with ye how they want,¡± he stated in a loud but clear tone, ending the argument behind him as the dwarves all waited for Nero¡¯s response. Nero frowned in confusion before replying, ¡°OK. I think I can do that¡­ but I don¡¯t see another portal around that I can close for you. Can you, like, open one for me or something?¡± The lead Populator practically leaped out of their armored boots to step forward and object. ¡°There will be no portals opened here! The ambient essence flows have already been strained enough. Whether Lord Walker is capable of disrupting an active anchor is immaterial to the matter at hand. We¡¯ll be taking Lord Walker to the closest Center Research facility for testing immediately. As a noble and lord of an Oglivarchian house, he has the right to prove his identity when questioned by any arm of the kingdom. He has made his decision and has submitted himself over to our authority.¡± The dwarves all bristled at the Populator''s tone while the dwarven leader stepped forward hefting his axe in front of him. ¡°Ye¡¯ll not be taking him anywhere. Not until we get our answers!¡± Nero wasn¡¯t sure what was going on, but he was almost positive this was no longer about whether or not he was who he said he was. He was 90% sure they all believed that he was who he said he was, and now they were interested in something else. He just had no idea what that could be. However, before he could try and regain control of the situation, both sides took a hop back and once again readied themselves for battle. Rather than feel threatened, Nero immediately noticed they were neither focusing on him nor each other and were instead focused squarely on a space a few feet off to his left. Turning his head to see what they were looking at, Nero noticed an odd disturbance in the essence flows. Recognizing it for what it was, Nero began chuckling as a golden flash of light revealed Archmage Jennings teleporting in and stealing the show like a boss. Unfortunately, the look on the man¡¯s face caused Nero¡¯s chuckle to die in his throat. The archmage''s presence in the ether spread out like a weight over the entire area, veritably smothering everyone with his metaphysical might. And he was glaring at Nero like he¡¯d shown up in a van to take his daughter to the prom. With a wave of his hand, another flash of golden light erupted at his feet, revealing a corpse Nero immediately recognized, his former body. His voice cold as ice, Archmage Jennings demanded, ¡°Explain.¡± Completely ignoring Jennings¡¯ demand for answers, Nero shouted, ¡°My bag!¡± Rushing over, Nero began looting his corpse. While it was a little weird to see his own face covered in kobald parts, multiple tunnels worth of grime and dust, and blood dripping from his eyes and ears, Nero wasn¡¯t all that thrown by the sight. By now, he¡¯d seen much worse and experienced far weirder things than something like this. It didn¡¯t even occur to him how his actions must have looked to all those who were watching him. Halfway through pulling off his bag, Nero paused and thought about the implications of Jennings having brought his body. Dropping the strap, he stood up and pointed at Jennings in accusation while yelling, ¡°You! You¡¯re the asshole who stole my body!¡± Jennings was caught off guard by Nero returning his demand for information with what looked like righteous indignation, especially while having his essence completely suppressed by Jennings¡¯ overpowering presence. Instead of finding a thoroughly intimidated young man, he found himself stepping back while leaning away from a finger being angrily wagged in front of his face like a knife. ¡°Do you have any idea how hard it is to return to the material plane without a body?!? I had to waste tons of soul stuff to build a new one from scratch! You¡¯re just lucky that there was still a connection leading back to where I left it or I¡¯d have been screwed. I could have ended up anywhere! That¡¯s if I could have even made it back at all. You know what? You¡¯re a shitty mentor. I had to rely on one half-assed lesson I barely remembered from you about enchanting stuff. What kind of moron steals their apprentice''s only way back from wherever it is that I was. I could have effectively died¡­ like for real. Who knows how long I would have floated around looking for another body if I couldn¡¯t build myself another one! And that¡¯s after just barely surviving having my identity overwritten by a rock!¡± Nero shouted while trying to poke Jennings in the chest with his finger. Turning away abruptly, Nero began pacing while throwing up his hands and shouting, ¡°And the cost! Don¡¯t even get me started about the cost! With the amount of potential, or whatever you nerds call it, that I had pumping through me¡­ I could have made a sword or something. Or maybe finally gotten started on my portable tower,¡± he griped before pausing to slap his forehead at a new thought. ¡°Levels! I forgot to check what happened to my level!¡± he shouted before suddenly going silent and staring off into the distance as if he¡¯d completely forgotten he was currently in the middle of a rant.
Name Nero Walker Level 27
Race Human Growth 32%
Tier 1 Condition 100%
Age 14 Center 100%
Body 4 Mind 5
Soul 3 Confluence 20
Stars 0 Pillars 4/ 1
Body 4
Base Operative Level Stress
Presence 22 39.6 0
Durability 26 46.8 0
Recovery 47 84.6 0
Speed 25 45 0
Adaptability 47 84.6 0
Power 24 43.2 0
Mind 5
Base Operative Level Stress
Weight 32 64 0
Control 39 78 0
Field 36 72 0
Precision 55 110 0
Endurance 65 130 0
Focus 61 122 0
Soul 3
Base Operative Level Stress
Size 29 40.6 50
Density 101 141.4 50
Intensity 76 106.4 50
Pressure 27 37.8 50
Harmony 24 33.6 1.2
Adaptability 270 378 50
Nero stood there muttering to himself with a somewhat confused expression on his face. ¡°So, ten levels on the dot? That¡¯s weird. Maybe that was the most I could hold on to if I wanted to keep the same form. Or at least a similar form based on my old one. No, that doesn¡¯t make sense. Coincidence maybe? If so, that¡¯s bullshit. Might be though, I do have some spare growth waiting around for my next level. And why the hell did everything get dumped into Confluence? Did I do that on purpose and I just don¡¯t remember? Wait, did my soul put another star into my pillar? I gotta figure out a way to stop my soul from doing stuff without my permission. Or at least figure out a way to remember doing it.¡± Then he noticed the various updated levels of stat stress. Throwing his hands up into the air, he shouted, ¡°What the fuck! Where did all my gains go? Did I have to revert to a save file or something? Did the fucking world cache me?!?¡± Dropping his hand to his hips, he went back to muttering to himself. ¡°50¡¯s gotta be some kind of level stress ceiling. Although I¡¯m positive I¡¯ve had higher than that before. But, I almost killed myself by allowing it to get that high¡­ didn¡¯t I? I did. I¡¯m sure of it. Maybe my soul is learning or something? Is that what pillars are? And why didn¡¯t my harmony go up? I need to start writing this shit down somewhere¡­¡± Archmage Jennings¡¯ voice was loud enough to shake the entire chamber. ¡°Nero! What in all the hells below and heavens above happened to you?!?¡± Snapping out of his ruminations, Nero staggered backward from the sound of Jennings¡¯ yelling at him. Looking over at the man in confusion, Nero¡¯s expression suddenly soured into an angry grimace. Stomping back over toward the man while completely ignoring the waves of intimidation rolling off of his presence in the ether, Nero glared at Jennings and replied, ¡°What happened to me? What HAPPENED to me? Haven¡¯t you been listening? Some asshole, namely YOU, stole my body and I had to build a new one out of essence I may or may not have pilfered from the kobald¡¯s home plane. Have you ever had to overwrite the essence of a paving stone with your own or risk your soul becoming corrupted? I have, and it''s a pain in the ass. And boring¡­ so¡­ so fucking boring. But after having my entire existence threatened by a metaphysical identity crisis, I had to waste most of what I¡¯d gained surviving that shit show rebuilding my body. All so that I could have something to slip back into on the material plane to come back here and spend time with my attentive and protective mentor. And that my friend¡­ is your fault. So? Hmmm? What do you have to say for yourself?¡± Having finished his formal accusation, Nero placed his fists on his hips and glared at the man like he was the female lead in a rom-com expecting to hear the heartfelt third-act apology of the male lead who¡¯d finally realized that it was all his fault and that he never should have done whatever the dumbass plot of the movie demanded he did¡­ and maybe¡­ hopefully¡­ receive some spellbooks or something to symbolize that Jennings had learned his lesson. Chapter 279 - I am who I am. Many years ago, when he was a young man and fresh from the training field, he¡¯d falter like anyone else when a battle was going poorly enough that he¡¯d thought he might die. But, as a Knight of Dorchester, he¡¯d seen more than his share of combat and had learned to push past those feelings and keep fighting. Battles could turn in a moment, and as long as he kept his head, there was always a chance for things to turn in their favor. Perhaps Battle Leader Averett was right and their new lord would pull off another miracle. Yet, he had to admit, hearing her happily confess that she had no idea where Lord Walker currently was didn¡¯t fill him with an abundance of confidence in that happening. That being said, when the portal didn¡¯t snap closed but instead vanished as if it had never been there at all, and when the kobalds began dying in droves from spellfire, he couldn¡¯t help but think Lord Walker had something to do with it. The only logical conclusion he could come to was that the mysterious and enigmatic young lord that he¡¯d sworn his life to had once again done the impossible and saved them all from annihilation. But then he¡¯d noticed that the dwarves arrived. They swept the battlefield clear of kobalds like an avalanche. Never in his life had he seen such levels of casual destruction being wielded by so few. Sure, he¡¯d seen war wizards working together to burn towering mutated ant mounds out of the ground while their carapaces popped and hissed like kernels of corn over a fire. Several times he¡¯d gotten to see scores of soldiers overrun by stampeding war horses wrapped in enough force essence to rip soldiers apart like tree branches caught in a hurricane. He¡¯d once even witnessed Grandmaster Lancel fighting another city''s champion during a formal border dispute with another city. But what the dwarves did was proof that there were some beings in this world that were too powerful for him to comprehend. And while he had no idea how they¡¯d done it, it made sense that they were capable of simply waving their hand and dismissing the portal as if it were nothing. Existences like them were like forces of nature, and closing a simple portal was to be expected of them. That did, of course, beg the question of where Lord Walker had disappeared to if he hadn¡¯t been the one responsible for their salvation. Seeing that Battle Leader Averett had already run off again, he and the front liners were left to deal with the mop-up of the remaining kobalds on his own. Or at least he¡¯d thought that¡¯s what would have happened. Instead, he watched in stunned silence as the kobalds around him simply keeled over all at once, having been sent to whatever hell they feared by the dwarven runic mage floating above them. The battle was over¡­ finished¡­ done. It had all happened so quickly that it left him feeling hollow. Looking around, he could see that he wasn¡¯t the only one feeling caught off guard by how the battle had concluded. It was the most anti-climatic ending any of them could have conceived to what had been one of the most terrifying fights any of them had ever been in. He could see it in his soldier¡¯s eyes, none of them felt like they¡¯d won. None of them felt like cheering. He watched in silence as the healers raced to see to the casualties while the mages set down their weapons and attempted to help where they could, leaving him along with the other warriors and front liners like him to stand around in confusion. Seeing the dwarves confront Battle Leader Averett, he and many others watched in confusion as they pressed her for answers like she was some kind of criminal caught at the scene of a crime. Harold wanted to support her, but he felt so off balance all he could do was watch on in silence. He couldn¡¯t understand what was going on. Less than a few minutes ago, he¡¯d been in the thick of battle thinking he was going to die gloriously for the sake of humanity. Nothing he heard or saw made sense. The dwarves hadn¡¯t been the ones to close the portal? Is that a Populator? What were they doing here? When did they get here? How did they get here? What in the infinite hells below was going on? Then, when that young Rose girl showed up out of nowhere proclaiming that Lord Walker had disappeared, Harold felt himself gasping along with everyone else who¡¯d been listening. He felt himself following along with the rest of the soldiers as they trailed behind the procession toward where Rose had last seen him. He listened closely to the conversation as best he could when Battle Leader Averett tried to mediate between the two absurdly powerful groups of warriors. Then he saw it. Lord Walker coming back from the dead. It was clear that it wasn¡¯t teleportation or any other sort of magic he¡¯d ever heard of. He saw Lord Walker¡¯s body being rebuilt bone by bone and organ by organ out of the very essence around them. His lord blazed like a raging inferno in the ether like a signal fire. It was like seeing a tale that would no doubt become a legend playing out right in front of him. He and the rest of House Walker¡¯s soldiers listened closely as it was revealed that it HAD been Lord Walker who¡¯d closed the portal, having given his life for them. But he¡¯d come back. Nobody had been around to resuscitate him, so he¡¯d just done it himself, letting not even soul death stop him from returning to them. His lord even laughed in the face of the absurdly powerful dwarves trying to kill him. And when it was revealed that they were Battleborns, dwarven heroes of legend, Harold didn¡¯t know what to feel. While Battleborns were champions to the dwarves, they weren¡¯t human, and it filled him with confidence to see them so scared of a human like Lord Walker. Harold could feel it in the ether that he wasn¡¯t the only one to be caught up in what he was witnessing. Even the archmage arrived to prove how momentous what was happening was. Lord Walker, their lord, confronted the most powerful archmage in the kingdom, chastising him for having stolen his body and leaving him to drift across the planes without a way back. While he along with everyone else felt their very souls being suppressed by the presence of the great mage, with even the Populators and Battleborns being forced to silence, their lord stood tall and demanded answers of his own. It shouldn¡¯t have been possible, but they were all witnessing it happen right in front of them. Harold had seen many things¡­ but nothing ever like this. Then, when it was all over, and the dwarves were gone along with the Populators and their Lord, he and the rest of House Walker¡¯s forces were left alone behind enemy lines to wonder if all that they had witnessed had actually happened. And if it weren¡¯t for the sound of Battle Leader Averett¡¯s voice snapping them out of it and ordering them all to begin fortifying their position, Harold wondered if they might still be standing there staring at the pile of kobald bodies which served as the sight of their Lord¡¯s impossible victory. ¡ª-- Tipping his head back and audibly groaning like a toddler begging the ceiling for help, Nero made his feelings clear about how he felt this examination was going. He should have known that Archmage Jennings would have ended up being a pain in the ass about him building himself a new body. Or maybe this was all due to how poorly he¡¯d handled his explanation of coming back from the dead. Either way, shortly after Nero had accused the archmage of stealing his body, the man had teleported them both away from the battle, forcing Nero into a testing chamber without bothering to ask him for permission. It hadn¡¯t been like Nero hadn¡¯t tried to stop him. There just simply hadn¡¯t been anything he could do. The archmage had taken control of the ether so completely, that Nero wanted to call ¡®Hax¡¯ and contact the local administrator for a ruling. Even Nero¡¯s center hadn¡¯t been safe from the man¡¯s control. And the singular time he¡¯d tried to carve a spell, he¡¯d felt like he¡¯d had part of his soul cut off. So, Nero ¡®allowed¡¯ himself to be captured while holding out hope that someone would eventually care enough to rescue him. Watching the lights flash and move all around him, Nero griped, ¡°You can¡¯t just abduct me! It¡¯s not legal. And besides that¡­ it¡¯s wrong¡­ and rude¡­ and bullshit. For God¡¯s sake dude, you work for the government! Do you really think you¡¯re going to get away with this?¡± Across the lab, Archmage Jennings¡¯ focus remained entirely on the display in front of him, thoroughly ignoring anything Nero was saying. Groaning again in annoyance at the man¡¯s persistence, Nero crossed his arms, and not for the first time, muttered under his breath, ¡°Asshole.¡± Apparently not caring about how unhappy Nero was with the situation, the archmage¡¯s cool and calm voice asked, ¡°So, you claim to have reconstituted your body using your center as the template? Explain to me again how you were able to stay conscious during the process.¡± Frowning at the archmage, Nero replied, ¡°I told you! I have no idea. How am I supposed to know that none of this is normal? You people bring people back from the dead all the time! And I¡¯ve seen you and plenty of other people build stuff out of nothing before. What I did is just a logical extension of that. I don¡¯t understand what about this has you so worked up.¡± Struggling in the straps that held him in place, Nero tried and failed to rub his chin in thought while saying, ¡°Well, I guess I can see you being a little surprised that I survived incorporating all that essence from the other plane. That seems like something you all haven¡¯t figured out yet. But that¡¯s just because you still think all that soul stuff is actual souls, which I¡¯ve told you all repeatedly that it isn¡¯t. That parts on you. You should probably look into that. Do some experiments or something. But leave me out of it. I¡¯ve got too much other shit to deal with.¡± Nero wanted this to be over. Even though they¡¯d only been at this for less than an hour, it felt to him like much longer. So when the door to the lab opened to admit a horde of Populators and dwarves marching into the room like they owned the place, Nero practically cheered. Greeting them with a smile, he shouted, ¡°Thank God. Get me out of here. I¡¯ve been abducted by a crazy scientist hellbent on probing me. I demand that you get him to unseal my link so I can contact my Vera¡­ I mean my lawyer.¡± Both the dwarves and the Populators ignored him, merely offering him a quick glance to note that he was sufficiently strapped into the testing chamber and unable to free himself. The Populator in charge walked up to Jennings and said, ¡°Archmage, I¡¯d appreciate it in the future if you alerted us to where you¡¯d taken the subject of our investigation. Leaving so abruptly was an unnecessary complication that was poorly received by our guests.¡± The story has been illicitly taken; should you find it on Amazon, report the infringement. In response, the dwarf in charge shouted, ¡°We¡¯re not yer ¡®guests¡¯!¡± before turning to Jennings and asking, ¡°So, what have ye figured out mage? What is it?¡± Nero grumbled, ¡°I¡¯m right here. I can hear you. And you¡¯re being dicks.¡± Once again ignoring him, The archmage replied to both the dwarf and the Populator without turning away from the hologram he was studying, ¡°I needed to figure out what we¡¯re dealing with, there wasn¡¯t time for pleasantries. And as for what I¡¯ve found out, the short answer is both ¡®a lot¡¯ and ¡®I don¡¯t know¡¯.¡± Frowning in anger while clenching his fist, the dwarf replied, ¡°Speak plainly mage?¡± Looking up from the hologram for the first time, the archmage stepped away from the monitoring station while gesturing over at Nero who was still strapped into the machine. ¡°Well, for one thing, I can tell you that this is beyond a shadow of a doubt Lord Nero Walker. Somehow, he made himself another body. His soul signature and essence profile are identical to everything we have on record for him. But, the body he is using isn¡¯t actually a body. It¡¯s a perpetuating essence construct.¡± One of the Populators near the rear of the group asked, ¡°Like a monster?¡± Turning to point at the Populator in the back, the archmage replied, ¡°Absolutely correct. Exactly like a monster.¡± The Populator in charge asked, ¡°How is that possible?¡± The archmage dropped his hands to his sides and replied, ¡°I have no idea. I don¡¯t understand what I¡¯m seeing at all. It shouldn¡¯t be possible. I¡¯ve even located an essence crystal in his abdomen right behind his navel. If it weren¡¯t for his soul signature, I¡¯d have been sure that this was just some extraplanar entity wearing his form and mimicking his behavior.¡± While Nero listened on in interest, he did his best to stare down at his belly button to see if he could sense the essence crystal they were talking about. Considering how tightly strapped he was to the table, he couldn¡¯t see much. The archmage walked over to Nero, ignoring the lights that were floating around all over the place, and reached out with a hand to grip Nero¡¯s hand. With a flicker of a finger on his other hand, he cleanly severed Nero¡¯s hand like he was trimming a bush. A fountain of blood poured out before he waved his hand again replacing it. The pain and healing had been so quick that Nero was barely able to understand what had just happened. Struggling to flex his new hand, Nero shouted, ¡°Did you just cut off my fucking hand? What the hell, man?!?¡± Ignoring him, Jennings walked back over to the Populators and the dwarves, holding up Nero¡¯s severed hand like it was a specimen they should be paying attention to. ¡°If you watch, I expect¡­¡± he said before Nero¡¯s hand began dissolving into essence like a monster fading back into the ether. ¡°Ah, yes. Just as I thought. You see. He hasn¡¯t been part of the world long enough to become intrinsically linked to the area. While ¡®he¡¯ is from here, the body he is using is being considered an invader.¡± Before the conversation could continue, the doors to the lab opened again to admit Vera god-damned Salvatore-Verena leading a group of well-dressed people along with Nick trailing along behind her. And judging by her face, what she was seeing hadn¡¯t caught her off guard at all! ¡°VERA!¡± Nero shouted in glee. If there was anyone who could get him out of this, it was her. While he was sure every dwarf and Populator in the room could whip the tar out of her in a fight, he was also sure that he wouldn¡¯t bet against her against of hundred of them in a battle of wits. Her tone utterly devoid of emotion, she asked, ¡°What is the meaning of this? Has Lord Walker been taken into the custody of the Populators?¡± Before the archmage could say anything, the Populator in charge replied, ¡°Yes. If this is, in fact, Lord Walker. Which is what we¡¯re here to determine.¡± Vera, not intimidated in the least by the presence of such powerful people, turned to Nick and nodded as if she were permitting him to play his part. Nick, with a mad grin on his face, hopped forward toward the monitoring station like a kid seeing a Christmas tree filled with presents and began waving his hands all over the place. While Archmage Jennings frowned, the dwarf in charge of his group stepped forward, ¡°What¡¯s he doin¡¯? Who¡¯re these humans?¡± The Populator in charge turned his head to the dwarf and replied, ¡°Judging by their robes and sigils, this is House Walker¡¯s seneschal and several law binders. Although the armored ones seem to be representatives of the local Tower of Law.¡± Gesturing over at Nick, he added, ¡°Logically, this man is some sort of researcher, likely Lord Salvatore-Verena if I were to guess.¡± The dwarf, unhappy with what he considered a non-answer to his question, replied, ¡°Well, ain¡¯t ya going to stop them?¡± The Populator cocked their head to the side as if the question confused them. ¡°Stop them from doing what? As the local representatives of the party in question, they¡¯re perfectly within their rights to observe what we¡¯re doing. They have no power to interfere with us, so why would I bother?¡± Nero, having had enough of just listening to them all ignoring him, shouted, ¡°Hey, Vera. These toolbags pulled me away from the battle after I closed the portal. They just left them all Wackos there though. You need to contact the military or somebody and organize a rescue mission. There are still a ton of kobalds in the upper city, and I¡¯m betting they aren¡¯t too happy with our people right now. I¡¯m sure Cathleen can handle it, but I don¡¯t like the idea of all of them being stuck up there having to beat back hordes of kobalds without any support.¡± Vera looked across the room over at Nero and gave him a small but understanding smile. ¡°Don¡¯t worry, I¡¯ve spoken with Cathleen over a communication orb and am aware of the situation. The relevant people have been notified and it''s being handled. For now, I¡¯m more concerned about the fact that the Populators along with the head of the mage council have evidently decided to abduct the kingdom¡¯s newest unique without cause.¡± Interjecting, Archmage Jennings replied angrily, ¡°It¡¯s not without cause. We had every reason to believe that this wasn¡¯t Lord Walker.¡± Raising a singular eyebrow as if she were surprised at his tone, Vera replied, ¡°But he is. You know he is.¡± Turning to Nick, she asked, ¡°Isn¡¯t that correct, dear?¡± Nick, still playing with the command council while grinning like an idiot, replied, ¡°Yes, absolutely. They¡¯ve already confirmed his soul signature along with his essence profile. They know it''s him.¡± Turning her calm stare back to the archmage, she continued, ¡°So, you see why I am concerned. On what grounds are you holding him?¡± The Populator in charge replied, ¡°We¡¯ve confirmed Lord Walker¡¯s body¡¯s soul death. If you¡¯d like proof, we still have the corpse. We were planning to return it to House Walker after we¡¯d finished our investigation. And until such time as we determine who this imposter is, they will remain in our custody.¡± Nodding in understanding, Vera replied, ¡°As an agent of the crown, that is your right. However, the nobility of Oglivarch has rights of their own. I¡¯d respectfully like to see the paperwork you filed concerning recent events so that my people can review them. After all, if our lord is truly dead, then there are matters which we need to address.¡± Nero, not liking where this was going, said, ¡°Hey, Vera. This isn¡¯t like some kind of unexpected third-act betrayal or something, is it? You¡¯re going to get me out of here, right?¡± Glancing over at Nero, she offered him a smirk before ignoring him. Archmage Jennings, who¡¯d been watching closely, turned to the Populator in charge and warned, ¡°I¡¯d be very careful with what you say and do next. I¡¯ve been in Dorchester for a while now, and this woman isn¡¯t to be underestimated.¡± The Populator in charge¡¯s blank silver face mask seemed to look at the archmage as if they couldn¡¯t believe what the man had just said. ¡°Thank you for your concern, but we have it handled.¡± Turning back to Vera, the Populator said, ¡°I¡¯ve forwarded a copy of the relevant facts in our after-action report to House Walker and filed the requisite paperwork with the Local Tower of Law for our being here. Everything is in order. You can have your people review them at your leisure. However, for now, I¡¯m going to have to ask you to leave. The matter of the extra-planar traveler we have in custody no longer has anything to do with your house, or this city for that matter. I¡¯d suggest you see to recovering your people who are still up in the mountain.¡± Vera, not having broken eye contact with the Populator¡¯s silver helmet, replied, ¡°Oh, but it does. As you no doubt know, your own tests have proven the identity of the extra-planar entity you claim is not Lord Walker. In fact, their identity has been verified by testing done personally by the head of the mage council in Hennings¡­ our kingdom¡¯s capital. Which, if I recall correctly, is where your order is based.¡± Gesturing over toward Nick, she added, ¡°My dear husband has been kind enough to forward those tests to the Local Tower of Law while we¡¯ve been talking. Any minute now, you¡¯ll be receiving a formal request for adjudication through the Tower of Law in the capital for your illegal actions against a formally recognized unique who was using his gifts in the service of a quest for one of our kingdom¡¯s cities. You see, your own report states that Lord Walker somehow closed an anchored invasion portal, saving the city and the region at the cost of his own life. While you should have been congratulating him for finding a way back from the outer planes, you¡¯ve instead strapped him to a chair and begun examining him to determine how he¡¯d done it. As a unique, his gifts are protected by Royal decree, and the fact that you¡¯ve chosen to ignore that fact merits investigation by the very order in which you claim to serve.¡± Groaning in annoyance, Archmage Jennings muttered under his breath, ¡°This woman. She¡¯s called for the first file.¡± The lead dwarf stepped forward and hissed at the Populator, ¡°Ye said we¡¯d be able to interrogate the lad about how he¡¯d closed the portal. This doesn¡¯t sound like it¡¯ll be as easy as ye¡¯d claimed it te be. What¡¯s this unique business she¡¯s going on about?¡± Vera, being the helpful person that she is, chose to answer for the Populator. ¡°A unique is a category of citizenship within the kingdom awarded to those few exceptional people who have talents and gifts that are unable to be understood due to their incomprehensible nature. To keep them out of the power structure of the government, they are allowed to travel the kingdom under the auspices of citizenship by the capital, founding subhouses wherever they go while never holding power directly. Even though they no doubt have a great deal of power themselves, they give up their right to hold office to acquire the protection of the crown. By ignoring his discovered identity and keeping him in custody, you¡¯ve violated the accords regarding how uniques are to be treated. Likely, you¡¯ll have even caused this matter to be taken directly to the king.¡± While the head Populator¡¯s silver mask lacked a face, it still stared unblinkingly at Vera while the dwarf asked, ¡°What¡¯s that mean¡­ exactly?¡± Archmage Jennings replied, ¡°It means, that instead of the interrogation you seem to have been promised, at best, you¡¯ll have the opportunity to interview Lord Walker¡­ if and when he agrees to it.¡± Vera, not letting off the proverbial gas, continued, ¡°You can continue to keep in custody, as you are a Populator, and no one here will stop you. But, know that by doing so, you¡¯ll most likely end up executed. The Leadership Council of Hennings and the King would have no choice. If you weren¡¯t, I doubt very much that there wouldn¡¯t be reprisals to the entire kingdom by the uniques who eventually learned of how you treated the newest addition to their number.¡± The dwarf, now irate, began to speak, ¡°Now wait just a minute¡­ This shiny human said -¡± The normally calm and collected head Populator¡¯s presence filled the room like a smoke bomb, causing nearly everyone to step back and wince. ¡°ENOUGH!¡± the Populator shouted, before half-turning back toward Nero and waving their hand, causing the straps restraining Nero to release him. Turning to stare directly at the dwarf, they said, ¡°We¡¯ll discuss this while I escort you and your fellow Battleborn from the city. We¡¯re done here. Let it rest, for now.¡± To Nero¡¯s surprise, the dwarf backed down. While based on their twitching beard along with their pronounced frown they didn¡¯t look happy, they at least seemed somewhat mollified. Without another word, The Populators and dwarves filed out of the room. But, before the doors could close behind them, the head Populator left them all with a warning. ¡°You should expect to hear from the Royal Academy soon. Do not leave the city.¡± Nero, rubbing his wrists with a massive grin on his face, looked over at Vera like she was the greatest thing he¡¯d ever seen, and that included the one time he¡¯d walked in on his best friend¡¯s older sister showering back when he was in middle school. Chapter 280 - Helpful as always. On the way out of the human city, Vorgor Stonebarrel kept silent as the rest of his brothers and sisters nattered away over their communications array like a bunch of children. He wanted answers just as much as they did, but who was he going to ask? Why were they expecting him to just ¡®know¡¯ everything? ¡®Stone below take me, I hate being in charge,¡¯ he thought to himself. Glancing out from under his helmet, he glared at the back of the impressively armored human in charge of the Populators. He, along with every other dwarf, knew of the human¡¯s achievement in enchanting mithril to flow like liquid silver and was sufficiently impressed by it. That didn¡¯t mean he had to respect the humans wearing it though. Putting the sounds of his companions arguing aside for the moment, he mentally went over everything they¡¯d just experienced. Their orders had been straightforward and had made sense at the time. They were supposed to have stopped the anchor from being set. And if they couldn¡¯t do that, then they were to see if they could close it by taking over the remains of the ritual that powered it. Bergram had made it clear that in the event that it was already open and they couldn¡¯t close it, they¡¯d have to hold the portal closed until such time as a team of runic priests could be called in to handle it. He could hear Bergram still going on about the lad who apparently was the one responsible for closing the portal¡­ by himself. The stupid dwarf was waving his staff around like a lunatic while they were all walking in what the humans should have been assuming was silence. Over the communications array, Vorgor shouted, ¡°Bergram, calm yerself. Making it obvious that we¡¯re talking to each other defeats the entire purpose of you setting up the array in the first place ye idgit!¡± Ignoring the dwarf¡¯s heated reply, Vorgor concentrated on his recollection of what he¡¯d witnessed. Those beleaguered humans who¡¯d gone in despite the odds to handle the anchor themselves, and the lad who¡¯d led them. They were true warriors, one and all, but he still wasn¡¯t sure how he felt about the lad himself. He¡¯d watched the lad rebuild his body out of nothing but ephemera and essence like a monster pulling itself out of the ether. It had been unsettling. And he still wasn¡¯t sure he believed that it was actually the same lad who they were saying it was. Although the evidence they¡¯d presented was hard to refute. Glancing over at the Populator who¡¯d promised him answers, he couldn¡¯t stop himself from hatefully glaring at the man or woman hidden inside that mithril armor. After the archmage had shown up and taken the lad, the Populator had demanded that they leave. It had almost come to blows before one of their subordinates offered a compromise. The lad¡¯s method of how he¡¯d closed the anchor would be freely given, and teams of mages from the capital would be sent to work with them on perfecting it. All he had to do was allow them to take the lad back to their capital and forget about him. Considering that he¡¯d be getting the only thing that mattered, he¡¯d agreed immediately. But now, here he was being escorted out of the city without having gotten his answers, and without the lad in his hands. If it weren¡¯t for the fact that the archmage was back there protecting the lad, he¡¯d probably have begun leveling the city to its bedrock by now. He¡¯d heard tales of the infamous human archmage who¡¯d been around for a millennia, but he¡¯d never met the man before. It was an experience he¡¯d remember, that¡¯s for sure. The man¡¯s presence had been awe-inspiring. It reminded him of how he¡¯d felt as a young dwarf meeting King Mithrilstrike for the first time. Well, not the current King Mithrilstrike, the boy''s grandfather. That dwarf had been a worthy king. Finally having arrived outside the city, Vorgor turned to the Populator and said. ¡°Alright, yer going to start talking, or we¡¯re going to have a bit of a rumble. Ye won¡¯t be enjoying it, I promise ye that.¡± As expected, the humans arranged themselves behind the Populator like good little boys and girls trying to look intimidating. He heard his companions quieting down over the array as they took up formation behind him in turn. The Populator met his glare with one of their own from their faceless helm and replied, ¡°I must apologize for not being able to honor our bargain. But you can rest assured that this is not over. Our kingdom wants answers just as much as you do. How the boy managed to close the portal, how he came back from the dead¡­ we¡¯ll get our answers one way or another.¡± Angrily retorting before the man had even finished his sentence, Vorgor shouted, ¡°And how¡¯d ye expect to do that? From what I gather, yer own laws are preventing ye from doing anything to the lad.¡± Gesturing with his axe at the group of humans in front of him, he added, ¡°First, ye show up after everything is over and stick yer grubby noses into our business. Then, ye stand aside as we handle saving yer people from being massacred like rock rabbits. Only to then claim that the lad is under yer protection as a citizen of yer kingdom, but apparently out of your control. What good are ye? What good are any of ya? That lad may be the most important human in the history of yer kingdom, and he doesn¡¯t trust ya. Nor do I for that matter.¡± The Populator replied cooly, ¡°If it weren¡¯t for us, you¡¯d have killed the boy the moment he rebuilt himself a body and came back from the dead.¡± Bergram, ever the helpful dwarf, shouted, ¡°The humans got ye there, Vorgor! Ha!¡± Tossing the annoying dwarf a glare over his shoulder, shutting him up quite nicely, Vorgor turned back to the human and replied, ¡°That¡¯s beside the point. Ye saw the same thing I did. I thought he was an invader. How was I s¡¯posed to know he was the one who¡¯d shut down the anchor?¡± Before the Populator could reply, Vorgor went on to add, ¡°Stone below, none of that matters now. All that matters is that the boy is protected. With that archmage there, I don¡¯t believe I have anything to worry about on that front. But, yer to stay away from him. I don¡¯t care a whit about how he managed to come back from the other side, all that matters is that he can close portals. I¡¯ll be speakin¡¯ to me king about it and ye can expect to hear from him directly.¡± The Populator stepped forward to argue, their tone no longer so congenial. ¡°There is no reason to halt our partnership. If you were to ask your king to request confirmation from the capital that the boy is who he claims to be, I can arrange for a team of scientists to dispute the archmage¡¯s findings. We can all get what we want if we work together.¡± Gesturing harshly with his axe, Vorgor harrumphed before turning away. ¡°Bah! Yer politics and sly words aren¡¯t going to get ye what ye want. Ye lost. Move on. I¡¯ve got an overland run to get to and a report to make to me King. Pray to yer gods I don¡¯t see ye again, because the next time I do, I¡¯ll be pealing that armor off ye and leavin¡¯ ye bloody. Count on it.¡± Without another word, he took off for his city with his companions following close behind him. ¡ª-- After Vera sent both the dwarves and Populators off packing, she¡¯d immediately exerted her authority over everyone in the lab, corralling them all into one of the attached conference rooms. Without even thinking about it, Nero allowed himself to be led away from the monstrosity he¡¯d been strapped to with a grin on his face. His current level of trust with Vera was bordering on fanatical. She could have asked him for his Netflix password and he wouldn¡¯t have batted an eye and just given it to her. After taking her seat at the head of the table, she said, ¡°All right, before anything else. Let¡¯s start with some clarifications. Lord Walker, if you would please walk us through the events of your expedition through the upper city. Start from the time when you and your forces initially arrived and continue on until you explain the events surrounding your recovery by the archmage.¡± When she mentioned the archmage, she gestured across the table to Archmage Jennings who¡¯d taken a seat at the table next to Nick and who was currently embroiled in a whispered, but intense, conversation with his fellow magical science nerd. Nero snapped out of his good mood the moment he realized the archmage had somehow managed to tag along. Seated around the rest of the table were Vera¡¯s lawyers, who were clearly recognizable by the fact that they were wearing House Walker¡¯s colors. Across from them were the lawbringers she¡¯d brought along. Or at least that¡¯s who Nero assumed they were based on the patches they were wearing. Then, near the end of the table was her husband, his buddy, Nick. How Nero had missed that Jennings had inserted himself into their little group, he had no idea. But now that he¡¯d noticed him, he couldn¡¯t take his eyes off him. Nero was self-aware enough to know that some people might describe him as a bit¡­ shameless. He knew that he¡¯d long since adopted the concept of all truths being relative as a foundational pillar of his entire personality. Things like ignoring inconvenient facts and consequences had, over time, become something of a reflex for him. One he took pride in. But seeing Archmage Jennings sitting there, having so completely disregarded any sense of responsibility he might have felt for being the one to physically kidnap him, stunned Nero to his core. The man was acting as if he had every right to be here, as if he hadn¡¯t done anything wrong. Nero didn¡¯t know whether or not he should be offended, or incredibly impressed and taking notes. After a second or two to consider the situation, he settled on feeling confused. Having been so caught up in the fact that Vera had gotten him out whatever that testing apparatus was that he¡¯d been in, he hadn¡¯t spared any thought to who all these people actually were. Seeing Nick not paying attention and completely engaging the archmage in a conversation about science or some other such nonsense wasn¡¯t all that much of a surprise. But, glancing around the room, nobody else seemed to be questioning Jennings¡¯ inclusion in the meeting either. Even Vera didn¡¯t seem to care about him being here. Propping his elbows up on the table, Nero half-pointed a finger over at the man while looking over at Vera questioningly. ¡°You all know he kidnapped me, right? Strapped me into a chair and began experimenting on me? He was about to break out the anal probes right before you got here.¡± If you discover this narrative on Amazon, be aware that it has been stolen. Please report the violation. The archmage in question paused his conversation with Nick to look over at Nero with a somewhat surprised look of shock on his face as if he were offended at the accusation. Meanwhile, the entire table turned to look over at the man with varying expressions running the gamut from scared to indifferent. ¡®Who in the hell are these people?¡¯ Nero wondered. Vera¡¯s voice was as calm and collected as ever when she replied, ¡°You¡¯re free now, and your identity has been confirmed. That¡¯s all that matters. What the archmage, temporary court mage, and head of the council of mages did or did not do, along with his reasons for having done or not done so, are not up for discussion at the moment. If you¡¯d like to make a formal complaint with the Tower of Law at some point in the future, we can discuss that after you and I have had a chance to speak in private. For now, let¡¯s limit our focus to what happened in the upper city and how your house¡¯s forces are currently doing.¡± Seeing the smirk on the archmage¡¯s face at how Vera was choosing to handle the situation, Nero was about to¡­ ¡°Nero!¡± Vera said loudly. Hearing her tone, Nero snapped his eyes back toward her and met her glare with one of his own. Softening her expression, she said, ¡°Lord Walker, please start at the beginning. When and how did you and House Walker¡¯s troops arrive at the mountain? Where were you stationed?¡± Seeing her silent plea to let his current issues with the archmage go for the moment, Nero took a calming breath before leaning away from the table and sinking deeply into his chair. After running both his hands through his hair and closing his eyes with a sigh, he did as he was told. He didn¡¯t know why Vera was choosing to ignore what Jennings had done, but he trusted her enough to know that she probably had a good enough reason for him to temporarily indulge her. As requested, he began at the beginning. While he didn¡¯t consider himself much of a storyteller, he still did his best. He covered their brief meeting with the five dwarves that had tagged along near the beginning of their little foray into the mountain, how they were all bunked together in a big ass cavern with a ton of tunnels leading off into the rest of the upper city, and how they¡¯d passed their time there. When he got to the part about the illusionary tunnels they¡¯d found, Nick took over and began recounting his part of the story. Nero got to finally find out what the man had been up to, and how the military and Tower of Magic had worked together to create a¡­ something¡­ to overcome the kobalds¡¯ magic. Nero understood maybe one sentence out of ten of what he¡¯d heard, but he followed along well enough to recognize that whatever it was that they¡¯d done was likely very impressive. Then, when Nero began explaining how they¡¯d all decided to close the portal themselves, one of the people who was NOT dressed in House Walker colors leaned forward and began asking questions. Despite how nice the man¡¯s robes were, Nero could clearly see the little patch on his chest which he recognized as having something to do with the Tower of Law. Considering the man was sitting next to Vera and she wasn¡¯t interrupting him, Nero figured he was likely someone important. So, he answered what few of them he could. However, a lot of what the guy wanted to know, Nero had no clue about. Specifically, which commanders were working with him, and who¡¯d been making the decisions were not things Nero had paid much attention to. He mentioned various commanders by name, along with referencing orders and protocols Nero had no recollection of. And while Nero could have just given the man a copy of the battle plans Cathleen and the people in charge had sent him, as he still had them saved on his link, he didn¡¯t know what the guy was after. Erring on the side of caution, Nero decided to plead ignorance and kept his answers as brief as possible. ¡®Are they not here to get me out? Is this some kind of investigation?¡¯ he thought to himself as he glanced to his left and right at the people he¡¯d thought to be his lawyers sitting alongside him. Seeing the unsatisfied glances being traded between the people from the Tower of Law, Nero moved his story along as quickly as he could. He relayed how their battles had gone, and how they¡¯d fought their way through the upper city all the way to the throne room. Considering how much he¡¯d glossed over, he wasn¡¯t surprised to see their expressions becoming more and more unhappy the longer he went on. Rather than a debrief, he was beginning to feel like this was an interrogation. And when he finally got to the part in his story where he¡¯d gone off on his own and began massacring kobalds with his particular brand of magic, Archmage Jennings joined in on the conversation. ¡°While Lord Walker believes he¡¯s using ¡®soul stuff¡¯ to empower his spells, I believe he¡¯s actually using what the dwarves refer to as ephemera,¡± he said while leaning over the table and glaring at the man whom Nero was beginning to believe was not some random lawbringer. The longer this went on, the more Nero was convinced he was some sort of investigator. Nick, ever the scientist, completely derailed the conversation by adding, ¡°From what I understand, both the ritual magic the kobalds use and the magic Nero¡­ I mean Lord Walker¡­ Um¡­ the point is, they both rely on some form of sacrificial magic. I haven¡¯t been able to study the specifics of how they¡¯re doing it, but based on what Lord Walker has told me, I believe it may be a variation of some kind of soul magic.¡± Nero¡¯s eyes glanced over at Vera who was now scowling at Nick hard enough for Nero to wonder if the poor guy would be sleeping on the couch tonight. Archmage Jennings turned to Nick and replied with a scoff, ¡°It¡¯s not soul magic. Not technically. Well, what Lord Walker is doing isn¡¯t soul magic at least. The kobalds, that is unquestionably soul magic. You see, the kobalds along with many races have studied the soul quite extensively. While you haven¡¯t been given access to most of what the kingdom has discovered, you should have sufficient sources of knowledge to allow you to extrapolate how the soul breaks down after it separates from the body. Haven¡¯t you taken the opportunity to read Nigelbane¡¯s treatise on soul death? It -¡± Interrupting him, Vera said loudly, ¡°While I¡¯m sure you and my husband might enjoy discussing the particulars of the ¡®how¡¯, all we are concerned about for the moment is the ¡®what¡¯. Namely, ¡®what¡¯ happened. So, if you would please refrain from scientific speculation for the moment, we can move on.¡± Leaning forward over the table like he was trying to loom over the entire room from his chair, the man from the Tower of Law asked the archmage directly, ¡°Before we do, are you certain that the method Lord Walker was using to cast his spells was NOT soul magic?¡± Nero could see Vera gritting her teeth as she had to force herself to allow the archmage to answer the man¡¯s question. Not looking all that intimidated, the archmage carelessly replied with a wave, ¡°I¡¯m sure of it. It¡¯s simply not a form of magic you¡¯ll see that often around here. It requires a great deal of skill in essence resonance and manipulation, along with a fair bit of knowledge of planar dynamics. I very much doubt anyone in this¡­ city¡­ would be capable of it. Likely, Lord Walker discovered the technique by observing how the kobalds cast their rituals. Interestingly, many magical discoveries are due -¡± Turning away from the archmage, the man from the Tower of Law said loudly, ¡°That¡¯s fine. It¡¯s not soul magic. That¡¯s all I needed to know.¡± Returning his attention to Nero, he added, ¡°You may continue. But if at all possible, please try and keep your answers clear of your interpretations and stick to the facts. What happened next?¡± Nero, now realizing that this WAS an interrogation, glanced over at Vera. Someone must have accused him of doing illegal soul magic or something. Maybe someone from the military? Either way, Vera had borrowed on the fact that the Tower of Law had wanted to speak with him to leverage their presence against the Populators and the dwarves. Once again he found himself impressed at her ability to layer multiple situations together to arrive at an outcome she had carefully engineered into existence. ¡®What a scary woman,¡¯ Nero thought to himself. He was reminded that a lot of what had been happening in the background may be things he was unaware of. All he could do was trust that Vera had it handled and continue to do what she¡¯d told him to do. Picking his story back up, Nero regaled the table with his efforts to meet back up with the rest of House Walker¡¯s forces in the throne room. He had to state multiple times that the portal had already been opened when he¡¯d gotten there, only to have the man finally accept what he¡¯d been telling him after Archmage Jennings confirmed it himself. Getting somewhat annoyed at how the man kept interrupting him, Nero tried to rush through the final parts of the story without getting bogged down in the details. The longer he talked, the more he spoke in generalized terms that made no sense to anyone in the room and instead raised the levels of stress in everyone who was forced to listen to him. ¡°So, there were a bunch of the little ones who were coming from side tunnels. I¡¯m guessing those tunnels were originally built for servants or maybe just led off to the Royal kitchens. I¡¯m not sure about that. But there were a ton of them¡­ little kobalds I mean¡­ not the tunnels. But there were a lot of those too. Which is why there were so many of the kobalds¡­ the little ones that is. The big ones were coming through the portal, which as I said¡­ was open. Things got hairy pretty quickly, and everything became nothing more than a mosh pit. I once went to a Pantera concert and it felt just like that. Not that I¡¯m a fan of heavy metal, or mosh pits, or battle. They all involve a lot of screaming. Too much screaming if you ask me,¡± Nero added helpfully. Considering that this was turning into an interrogation, Nero had begun falling back on his old standby of being as unhelpful as possible. Where before his answers had been intended to get his point across, now he was doing everything he could to annoy the man. And it was working. The problem was, the man was like a dog with a bone and wouldn¡¯t let go. He was constantly interrupting Nero to clarify the things he¡¯d said. He wanted detailed accounts of numbers, positions, and to understand the exact flow of events and how Nero had responded to them. It was just as infuriating to Nero as his answers were to him. And Nero was about to finally lose it when the man asked for the third time a variation of the same exact question he¡¯d just asked him over and over again. ¡°While your house¡¯s forces were being overrun after ¡®the big ones who looked like humanized lizards¡¯ attacked the front, you decided¡­ entirely on your own¡­ that you would sneak off from the fighting and attempt to close the portal yourself? You weren¡¯t trying to save yourself or avoid the fighting?¡± the man asked, sounding as skeptical as a man hearing that his new girlfriend¡¯s male roommate was ¡®just a friend¡¯. Archmage Jennings of all people was the one to save him, as he loudly declared, ¡°I was able to utilize the Tower of Magic¡¯s scrying array to watch the battle. I can confirm what Lord Walker is saying. If you¡¯d like, I can forward you a copy of the recording.¡± The man¡¯s head whipped around fast enough to give multiple people in the room whiplash by proxy. Narrowing his eyes at the archmage, he said, ¡°We were told that the ritual powering the portal disrupted our ability to observe the area in the throne room. Why is this the first I¡¯ve heard about this?¡± Archmage Jennings shrugged before replying, ¡°Probably because the local mages here couldn¡¯t manage it. If you were listening closely, I said that ¡®I¡¯ was able to use the Tower of Magic to scry the area. I¡¯m sure you¡¯re aware that I cannot divulge techniques and technologies that your city hasn¡¯t managed to discover for themselves just yet. That would be path interference, and would be illegal.¡± Interested in what Jennings was saying, Nick asked eagerly, ¡°Did you perform an array modification? Or were you manually stabilizing the interference yourself? How did you overcome the sheer issues with the multiplicative essence streams? Were you using -¡± Clearly unhappy, but apparently willing to let it go, the man said loudly, ¡°Enough! We¡¯ll get back to that later.¡± Turning back to Nero he commanded, ¡°Continue.¡± Not liking the man¡¯s increasingly abrasive tone, Nero replied, ¡°That¡¯s about it. After that, I closed the portal. Then I killed a few kobalds, along with myself kinda, then I woke up to this guy¡­¡± Nero gestured across the table with an accusing finger before continuing, ¡°And the dwarves and the Populators and everyone else staring at me in all my glorious nakedness. More than a few people were impressed. I could tell. However, you should know that nobody even offered me the pants I asked for. Asked for multiple times I might add. You should write that down for the record. No pants! After that¡­ well, then I got teleported here, which you already know about. Then that¡¯s it. The end.¡± Nero had used up what limited amount of his patience he had with all of this. Whoever this guy was, Nero wasn¡¯t going to be answering any more of his questions. And considering that Jennings had been sitting on a recording of everything, he honestly couldn¡¯t see the point in any of this. While he was sure there was one, he was also sure he had no idea what it was. ¡®I¡¯m going to need to either start learning more about how they do things in this city or finally have Vera hire some kind of social interpreter who I can pay to follow me around and explain things to me. Nick clearly hasn¡¯t been doing the job I¡¯ve secretly assigned him well enough. I should try and remember to secretly fire him at his next performance review,¡¯ he thought to himself. Chapter 281 - Answers to questions he didnt know he had. Glancing across his office, he noted the look of amusement in the Grandmaster¡¯s eyes as he watched him sit down. Commander Dahl sank into his chair, exhausted by the day he¡¯d been having. Apparently, the man found it quite funny to force him to sit at the general¡¯s desk while actually being the one in charge of their little meeting. ¡®I¡¯m too tired to be intimidated right now. Or maybe I¡¯m just getting used to his presence. Either way, let¡¯s just get this over with,¡¯ he thought to himself. ¡°Alright, Sir. The privacy wards are engaged. What can I do for you?¡± he asked. Still smirking, the Grandmaster began pacing across the room while pretending to examine the art on the walls with exaggerated interest. ¡°With the dwarven Battleborns having arrived, I¡¯d like to hear an update on the current intelligence concerning what¡¯s going on in the mountain¡­ along with a few related matters outside it.¡± Commander Dahl didn¡¯t bother thinking about the ¡®why¡¯ behind the question. He was honestly too busy to worry about what game the Grandmaster was playing at the moment. Instead, he intended to answer the man¡¯s question as succinctly as possible. If he were really lucky, he¡¯d be able to get out of this meeting without being assigned another problem to deal with. ¡°I¡¯ll assume you mean the events occurring in the upper city,¡± he replied before beginning his report as professionally as possible. ¡°After receiving word about the attempt to reach the ritual site before the kobalds activate their portal, we began monitoring the situation as best we could. Unfortunately, we¡¯ve mostly lost contact with the forces from House Walker who¡¯ve pushed through the blockade in their efforts to get to the former throne room. But, we¡¯re at least still getting updates from the army divisions which have been pressuring the kobald encampments. Losses have been minimal, and progress is being made to whittle down the enemy¡¯s numbers.¡± Mentally connecting with his link, he began reviewing the reports he¡¯d received before continuing. ¡°While our mages along with the Tower of Magic haven''t been able to monitor the floors around the ritual site, we¡¯re been able to reci-¡± Interrupting him, the Grandmaster chuckled and asked, ¡°Even with those costly upgrades to the scrying arrays, they still can¡¯t pierce the kobald¡¯s illusions?¡± Sighing in exasperation, Commander Dahl replied, ¡°It¡¯s not a matter of the kobald¡¯s illusions. It¡¯s the ethereal instability that is the problem. Or at least that¡¯s what I¡¯ve been told by the mages who¡¯ve been tasked with monitoring them.¡± Seeing as the Grandmaster responded to the news with a half-hearted shrug and a gesture for him to continue, Commander Dahl resumed his report. ¡°The good news is that we were able to embed some troops with communications orbs along with House Walker¡¯s forces, so we have some idea of what is happening.¡± The Grandmaster nodded in apparent appreciation of the commander¡¯s foresight while asking, ¡°So you¡¯re aware that the portal has been activated.¡± Quickly replying, Commander Dahl said, ¡°And promptly closed. Although we¡¯re receiving conflicting reports concerning exactly how that happened.¡± The Grandmaster stopped pacing to stare at the Commander while asking with interest, ¡°Conflicting how?¡± Commander Dahl replied, ¡°Well, the three agents who successfully reported in all mentioned different accounts. One believed that the portal closed itself before cutting off communications when the dwarves arrived. Another claimed that Lord Walker sacrificed himself to close the portal and was reborn in the light of the gods for his sacrifice. Considering the source for that report is a cleric, the analysts are understandingly skeptical. And for the last, they claimed that either ¡®flying dwarven mages¡¯ or ¡®Invisible Populators¡¯ of all things were responsible for what happened. Although the last seems the least likely since there aren¡¯t any Populators in the city.¡± Noticing the condescending smirk on the Grandmaster¡¯s face, Commander Dahl made a note to check the transport logs after the man left. It wasn¡¯t inconceivable for Populators to have arrived without alerting anyone. Unlikely, but not impossible. ¡®That¡¯s just great. I¡¯m sure they won¡¯t be causing another headache for me to deal with,¡¯ he thought sarcastically to himself. Tapping his fingers on the desk in thought, Commander Dahl set the matter of the Populators aside and returned to what he¡¯d been saying, ¡°The only thing everyone agreed on was that the portal had been closed. And until we manage to push through the blockades to recover House Walker¡¯s forces, that¡¯s likely all we¡¯ll know for sure. That is unless Lady Verena''s claims are true, and that our resident archmage has abducted Lord Walker from the battlefield and commandeered a Center Research lab to examine him on the grounds that he is now, of all things, a planar invader.¡± Smiling as if he was holding back a secret, the Grandmaster replied, ¡°Oh, that sounds interesting. What else has Lady Verena been up to?¡± Running a hand through his hair, Commander Dahl leaned back in his chair and replied, ¡°Too much, Sir. And none of it makes any sense. Through intermediaries, she filed a formal accusation concerning Lord Walker¡¯s apparent illegal use of soul magic. She barely tried to hide her inv -¡± The Grandmaster interrupted him by asking, ¡°I thought that matter had already been settled. I specifically remember discussing it with the Council of Leadership during our former general¡¯s last days in office. I believed the evaluators from the Royal Academy made it clear that what Lord Walker was doing wasn¡¯t soul magic.¡± Commander Dahl nodded. ¡°It had. Or I¡¯d thought it had. But, apparently, that hadn¡¯t been a formal inquiry, or at least not enough of one for it to matter to the Tower of Law to state it for the record. For some reason, Lady Verena pushed for a formal investigation. She did it through a third party, but we know for a fact that it came from her. For whatever reason, she then pretended to find out about the investigation and offered to personally collect a team from the military arm of the Tower of Law to go and confront Lord Walker directly over the matter. Which, of course, makes no sense because as far as we know he¡¯s still with his house¡¯s forces in the mountain. She claimed that if they went with her, they¡¯d be able to hear a first-hand account of what transpired in the upper city¡¯s fight for the throne room and that all of their questions would be answered.¡± The Grandmaster smiled, ¡°Perhaps her claims of Lord Walker having been abducted were true.¡± Resuming his pacing, the Grandmaster let the matter drop by asking, ¡°Anything else?¡± Confused, Commander Dahl replied, ¡°Before today? A great deal. For example, our counterparts with the guard have been trying to follow her movements and have reported that she¡¯s been working with those former evaluators you mentioned. As you probably know, they¡¯ve formally joined House Walker and left the Academy for some reason. Nobody is sure why, but there are plenty of theories being offered by the analysts who have been following the situation. Regardless, they¡¯ve been seen meeting with her all over the city and doing¡­ something. Nobody seems to have any idea for sure what that something is. Interestingly, the only two guards who¡¯ve gotten close to figuring out what they¡¯ve been doing have begun showing signs of possibly being compromised.¡± Chuckling, the Grandmaster asked, ¡°Compromised how?¡± Using his link to look up the report he¡¯d remembered reading, Commander Dahl replied, ¡°Well, for one thing, both of them have stopped all of the extracurricular activities that they used to enjoy and found meaning in. No more going out for drinks with their friends or participating in the arena clubs they used to be a part of. Oddly, they both said the same thing to everyone they knew when they were questioned about it, ¡®I¡¯ve begun walking my path again¡¯. One of them even ended his relationships with the two women he¡¯d been seeing. And that¡¯s not all. They¡¯ve also both signed up for classes at their local Centers in their off time. ¡®Reevaluating your Path¡¯ and ¡®Meditative Introspection¡¯ were the class titles. Same classes, different Centers. In short, a complete change of personality over the past few weeks with concerning similarities in their behavior.¡± Seeing the look of surprise on the Grandmaster¡¯s face, Commander Dahl continued, ¡°I know, it doesn¡¯t make any sense. But since their superiors consider the changes a net positive, they have no justifiable reason to press them about it. Both guards are still filing their reports, and seeming to do their jobs¡­ they¡¯ve just changed and their investigations which had looked so promising have been stalled.¡± Leaning forward over his desk to rest on his elbows, Commander Dahl went on to say, ¡°Regardless, going back to the subject of what Lady Verena has been up to today¡­ over the past thirty minutes or so she¡¯s done more than just accuse Lord Walker of illegal soul magic. She¡¯s also had House Verena¡¯s lawbinders file half a dozen proactive defense motions against possible charges ranging from illegal business practices to abuse of his retainers on the grounds of inhumane training practices. None of them are in response to any investigations the Tower of Law has pending, and all of them have been exhaustive in their detail. She and her people must have been working on them for a while. She¡¯s been quite busy. For the past hour, I¡¯ve been receiving all manner of reports about her. Do you have any insight as to what¡¯s going on with her?¡± Looking somewhat shocked, the Grandmaster muttered to himself as if he hadn¡¯t heard the commander¡¯s question, ¡°Is she trying to protect him or condemn him? She and her husband just joined their house to House Walker. What game is she playing, and who is her opponent?¡± Shrugging his shoulders while rolling his eyes, Commander Dahl replied to Grandmaster¡¯s rhetorical questions, ¡°The analysts have no idea, and nor do I. While I¡¯m sure it matters, I just don¡¯t have the time to worry about it at the moment. The fact of the matter is, the portal is down, we have teams in the field fighting the kobalds who are in need of support, and the enemy is no longer going to be getting reinforcements. We have a real chance to clear out the upper city and secure our rear for when we head down into the deeper floors. That¡¯s all I care about right now.¡± Enjoying this book? Seek out the original to ensure the author gets credit. Nodding in understanding, the Grandmaster replied with a fond smile, ¡°You¡¯re absolutely correct, of course. Leave the politics to the politicians. Stay aware of what¡¯s happening, but don¡¯t let yourself get distracted. Keep up that focus, and you¡¯ll be keeping that chair, Temporary General Dahl.¡± ¡ª-- Now maybe it was the way Nero had been describing recent events, or possibly it was late enough in the day that the man was feeling angry because he¡¯d missed out on lunch or something¡­ but whatever the reason, Nero could tell the man was on the brink of losing it. His face was red and his hands were clenched tight enough to turn his knuckles white. Nero could just tell the man was struggling to stop himself from standing up and shouting at him for ¡®being difficult¡¯. Visibly restraining himself, the man asked through gritted teeth, ¡°Reports have come in stating that you died before reconstituting yourself out of raw essence. If you would, could you please elaborate on those claims?.¡± Before Nero could reply in a manner that finally broke the poor man, Vera leaned forward in her chair and said, ¡°Those reports were given to you by me. Had I not done so, you¡¯d still have no idea what occurred. As for the specifics of how Lord Walker was able to reconstitute himself, that is immaterial to the report which you requested.¡± The man turned his glare to Vera and said, ¡°As the Tower of Law¡¯s military liaison, I was assured, by you, that I would be getting all my questions answered if we came with you.¡± Her expression blank, Vera replied, ¡°And you have. You and the military wanted to know what happened with the portal, and now you have something to tell them. Concerning Lord Walker¡¯s abilities, they fall under the accords regulating the treatment of uniques and are not germane to the status of the portal or any threat to Dorchester whatsoever. By Lord Walker¡¯s own testimony, you can see that everything I reported to you on behalf of House Walker was true and that the portal can be confirmed as closed. You can tell Commander Dahl that he is free to send as many troops as he wants into the upper city knowing that the enemy will be receiving no reinforcements. I¡¯m sure the heroes of House Walker will appreciate it.¡± Archmage Jennings helpfully added, ¡°I can confirm that as well. The portal being closed, that is. I suspect now that the link to the other plane has been cut off, and the ritual has been taken care of, the Tower of Magic will soon be able to scry the area without issue. Likely within the next 15 to 30 hours, the essence in the area will stabilize enough for them to get through.¡± Waving his hand as if it were an afterthought, he brought up a hologram which began showing the battle from the perspective of a scry. ¡°As I said, I recorded the entire engagement. And now that the matter has been handled locally, and in my capacity as the head of the council of mages, I am of the opinion that there is no reasonable threat to your city''s path by you having access to it. So, feel free to watch it until you are satisfied. But, that being said, I also believe that it¡¯s now past time for this meeting to be over.¡± Without another word, the archmage offered Vera a nod before standing up and straightening his robes. Not understanding what was happening, but enjoying it nonetheless, Nero watched as Vera stood up as well, followed quickly by all of the people who were wearing House Walker¡¯s colors. Even Nick hopped to his feet and began getting ready to leave. As a final parting gift, Archmage Jennings said to the stunned investigator, ¡°I¡¯ve already sent copies of this recording to your superiors in the Tower of Law along with the city¡¯s central command for the military. The recording here will continue to play on repeat for as long as you stay in the room. I¡¯m sure you¡¯ll find it as exciting as I did when I watched it happen. So, enjoy. And, lastly, again for the record, I commend you all for your service and dedication to your city.¡± Nero watched them all file out of the conference room while the horrific memory of what he and the Wackos had gone through played out like a movie on the hologram hovering over the table in front of him. While the people from the Tower of Law were currently distracted by what they were seeing, Nero pulled his eyes away from the uncomfortable sight and stood up himself. He rushed toward the door, not wanting to be left behind. His haste had nothing to do with him not wanting to watch how poorly the battle had gone for the people he¡¯d been fighting alongside for the past week, or how many lives had been lost. He was sure the guilt he was feeling was simply indigestion or possibly the after-effects from all the testing Jennings had put him through. Outside of the conference room and back in the lab, Nero was surprised to see the archmage chatting so congenially with Vera as if they¡¯d been old friends for years. In between them stood Nick, watching the byplay like a disgustingly pleased parent seeing his wife and best friend getting along. The sight was so confusing that Nero couldn¡¯t muster up the brainpower to be jealous. ¡°I don¡¯t think he¡¯ll be a problem, although you never know. While I can¡¯t be certain, if he is who I think he is, then you can expect his next move would be to get the Academy involved. However, even if he succeeds, I doubt very much will come of it. By getting Nero¡¯s identity verified in the presence of both myself and the locals, everything should turn out fine,¡± he said supportively, his voice sounding uncharacteristically charming. Vera nodded in understanding before replying, ¡°I can¡¯t thank you enough for contacting me. Without your help, this could have all gone very differently.¡± Nick, who¡¯d been patiently watching them talk, added, ¡°What are we going to do about the dwarves? Without the Populators to hold them back, they might be a problem.¡± Vera replied quickly, ¡°We¡¯ll have to send an emissary to their new city immediately. The king appreciated Lord Walker transferring their mountain to them despite the city¡¯s interference, so I doubt he¡¯ll stand aside and let them do whatever they want. Dwarves are known to be honorable when personal relationships like this are involved.¡± The archmage agreed, ¡°That¡¯s true. Regardless of what Nero¡¯s ability to close portals could do for them as a people, the king won¡¯t do anything drastic. He¡¯ll try diplomacy first. In fact, I doubt he¡¯ll go through the city and instead try to contact Nero directly. By the time you send your emissary, whoever he sent would probably already be on their way. I¡¯d hold off for now and just wait for him to contact you.¡± While standing around with the lawyers from House Walker, Nero was feeling more than a little bit out of the loop watching Vera, Jennings, and Nick all talk about things he didn¡¯t fully understand. Not having anything to contribute, he¡¯d kept his mouth shut and listened closely. However, by this point, he¡¯d pieced one or two things together. For one, Jennings had been in on whatever Vera had done to stop the Populators from taking him. And two¡­ well that¡¯s it. That¡¯s all he¡¯d figured out so far. He didn¡¯t know what they were talking about the Academy, or the dwarves, or what the hell had just happened in the conference room. All he knew for certain was there had been a lot going on which he¡¯d been missing, and that he was damned sure ready for some answers. Stepping forward to join their little parlay, he looked up at all of them and asked, ¡°Do any of you mind letting me in on whatever the hell you all are talking about?¡± Nick, always eager to offer an explanation, looked over at Nero with a smile and said, ¡°It¡¯s not all that complicated once you understand the identities and backgrounds of all the players involved. Vera¡¯s goal in the game was to keep you safe. Her main opponent was the Populator in charge of stopping the dwarves from interfering. You see, when the archmage contacted her and told her what had happened, she knew they¡¯d want to take you. So, she immediately contacted the Tower of Law and the military to ensure that both House Walker¡¯s forces would be taken care of and that you would be free from any method they could use to control you. I do, however, think that heading off the soul magic charges is a little premature. I¡¯m still not entirely certain the word of the archmage would be enough.¡± While still looking confused, Nero turned his head to the archmage when the man helpfully picked up the explanation. ¡°Once I recognized what would happen after you¡¯d so publicly closed a portal and reconstituted your body, I contacted Vera immediately so she could prepare. Granted, it took me a few minutes to piece together what had happened since when you died the automatic teleport I placed on you dropped your body in the middle of my chambers and I was unable to revive you. With you having successfully closed a portal in a way that defies our current understanding of magic, I knew that you were in danger. Obviously, both the Populators and the dwarves would want to take you with them to learn how you did it. Then, when you reconstituted yourself, I knew that the Populator in charge would stop at nothing to get his claws into you. Ensuring that your identity was on record was imperative to prevent that from happening,¡± said the archmage. Vera then added, ¡°He contacted me immediately so I could begin our game¡¯s counteroffensive. Once your identity was confirmed, legally there was nothing they could do. I also took the liberty of cutting off their other likely avenues of attack by sending out some missives my teams had been working on in case more local troubles presented themselves. For example, they could have declared you an illegal soul mage and tried to get you to come with them that way. Framing all of your feats as derivatives of your unique abilities was necessary to stop them from being legally allowed to demand answers. Ensuring that they wouldn¡¯t be able to get any support from the locals was just a side benefit.¡± Nick chimed in, ¡°I still think that -¡± Interrupting him to pick up the explanation, Archmage Jennings said, ¡°The head of the Populators is a man I know from the Royal Academy, I¡¯m almost sure of it. While their armor is perfectly capable of hiding their identities, I¡¯ve been around long enough to recognize a few of the more recognizable team leaders. He would have wanted to study you. Specifically, how you accomplished a corporeal reconstruction. He¡¯s beginning to suffer some age creep and knows that he¡¯ll likely not reach 100 before he dies. Which is an event I¡¯m looking forward to by the way. The man¡¯s been a pain in my neck for over a century. Julius never should have promoted the man. Do you know that he prefers-¡± Interrupting the man right back, Nick said, ¡°And the dwarves want you because of the portals. Their underground cities are constantly under assault from extra-planar threats. Clan Mithrilstrike¡¯s original city was even wiped out by one. We can¡¯t be sure, but Vera guessed that the Populator in charge would have probably made a deal with the Battleborns to interrogate you after they got you out of the city.¡± Nero, finally having gotten a bit more of the background information he would have needed to comprehend even a fraction of what had been going on, turned to Jennings and asked, ¡°So, you kidnapped me for my own good? Is that what I¡¯m hearing?¡± Nodding with a smirk, Jennings replied, ¡°More or less. I also wanted to get whatever readings I could off of your new body before your form began stabilizing with the local essence flows. You should know, you are technically now a form of human that hasn¡¯t ever existed before on this plane. In many ways, you¡¯re an extra-planar variation of a human rather than a locally developed one.¡± Nero, not caring about that right now and thoroughly done listening to them regardless of how important what they were saying was, replied, ¡°Uh-huh. So, I¡¯m safe¡­ for now. And someone is going to go collect the Wackos? Then can I get some real food and a shower¡­ maybe enjoy that big ass bed back at the estate I never get to sleep in?¡± Nick replied, ¡°Actually, it would be really helpful if you were to allow us to test your harmonic frequency. Also, if you could participate in a few simulated portal closings¡­ that¡¯d be great. Oh, and maybe you could walk us through-¡± Patting her husband on the shoulder with a fond look on her face, Vera spoke over him. ¡°Not right now, dear. The science will still be there tomorrow. For now, let¡¯s get Nero home.¡± Nero ignored both the archmage and Nick as they began discussing what tests would need to be done. Instead, he followed Vera out the door walking closely beside her. Behind them all, he could sense their entourage of silent lawyers who¡¯d still not uttered a single word. ¡®Home, huh¡­¡¯ he thought to himself while smiling at the thought of finally being the kind of rich asshole who had the option of returning to his estate and enjoying a meal handmade by his personal chef, a gloriously decadent rain shower, and a harem sized bed wrapped in silk sheets. Chapter 282 - Lifes abrubt scene changes. ¡°We¡¯ve repurposed much of what the kobalds had been using for their defenses. Their temporary walls have been reinforced and the main entryway is now riddled with kill zones in case they breach the perimeter. Although even with how well dug in we are, there isn¡¯t much we can do about spell fire other than rely on our mages if it comes down to us needing a shield. We don¡¯t have any shield generators, or any other support equipment we¡¯d need for a prolonged siege defense,¡± the group leader said with a sigh. Cathleen merely nodded in understanding without bothering to look at the woman while doing her best to radiate both confidence and resolve. She knew that in times like these, it was imperative that she be seen as a source of strength for the troops under her command. In many ways, her time serving in the center had prepared her well for the role of Battle Leader. When she¡¯d ruled the dorms, she¡¯d learned how to project authority and command. Her position had also allowed her to hone her skills at not being seen when she didn¡¯t want to be in order to catch people who weren¡¯t where they were supposed to be. Her father had once told her that any job could serve as training for war, and he¡¯d been right. ¡°Of course we don¡¯t. The plan was for us to make our way back through the tunnels while enduring a fighting retreat. No one expected us to have the option of waiting for a rescue. However, that doesn¡¯t mean we won¡¯t take advantage of the situation now that we do,¡± she replied. Gesturing toward the walls of the chamber, Cathleen asked, ¡°Have all of the side tunnels been sealed?¡± The group leader nodded, ¡°The mage teams saw to that before anything else. According to them, the plugs should hold long enough for us to realize if the kobalds are trying to reopen them. And even if little monsters do, we have people watching for it,¡± she said before awkwardly changing the subject. ¡°How long do you expect us to have to hold out?¡± Cathleen continued to look over the encampment the Wackos had set up while still not meeting the group leader¡¯s eyeline. She knew that while many of the Wackos and troops who¡¯d signed up for this mission had been ready to die, now that they¡¯d succeeded and would be returning to the city as heroes, they were all looking forward to their continued living. Keeping her tone calm but firm, she replied, ¡°Three or four days at most, I¡¯d wager. We¡¯re in contact with the city through communication orbs, and they¡¯re still keeping most of the kobalds contained at their forward encampments. So, we likely won¡¯t be seeing too many heavy assaults. That being said, there is no reason for us not to prepare as best we can for the possibility that the kobalds might surprise us.¡± Sensing Knight Angelton approaching with Blackwood, Cathleen turned around and greeted him with a nod. ¡°What¡¯s the final tally?¡± she asked calmly. While Knight Angelton remained silent, Blackwood spoke up, ¡°48 dead. 27 still in need of more healing before they¡¯re combat-ready.¡± Unable to stop herself from sighing, Cathleen replied, ¡°How are the healers holding up?¡± This time it was Knight Angelton who was the one to answer her question. ¡°About as well as can be expected. 11 of the deaths were healers. The ones who¡¯d made it through the battle had more to do than they could manage. It may be a while until they¡¯ve recovered enough to be useful. Regrowing limbs isn¡¯t easy even if they hadn¡¯t just spent the last few hours draining their centers healing people.¡± Cathleen nodded in understanding before turning to the group leader and saying, ¡°Get with our scouting teams and coordinate with them over what they¡¯ve found remaining in the encampment outside the throne room. See if the dwarves and Populators left anything useful standing after they wiped out its former residents. Also, set up relay points on all the tunnel systems out of the central hallway. One or two scouts at each entrance should suffice. We don¡¯t need to defend them, just have people watching them to provide us an early warning if we should be expecting an attack.¡± The group leader offered a quick nod of understanding before walking away. She recognized a dismal when she heard it. Cathleen met Knight Angelton¡¯s eyes, indicating that she wanted a private word with him. Knight Angelton turned to Blackwood and said, ¡°Check in with Harrison and Dresden. I want to know how our supplies are doing. Food, water, spare weapons¡­ all of it.¡± Blackwood offered both Cathleen and Angelton a quick fist to his chest in salute before stepping away and leaving them alone to talk. His time in the army likely made it a reflex for him by now. Keeping her voice quiet, she asked, ¡°What are the troops saying? How¡¯s morale?¡± Surprising her with what might have been his version of a chuckle, Knight Angelton replied, ¡°If you¡¯d asked me that an hour ago, I¡¯d have told you that nobody knows how to feel about what happened. But, now, the story being told is quickly becoming more legendary by the minute.¡± Frowning in confusion, Cathleen waited for him to elaborate. Tilting his jaw to call attention to a section of the camp behind her, he said, ¡°Ms. Keening has been collecting interviews for her House Walker¡¯s Link broadcast. She¡¯s good at her job, I¡¯ll give her that.¡± Cathleen turned to look over at where Knight Angelon was staring. She could see Ms. Keening had taken over the area in front of the pile of dead kobalds. The smell must have been worth putting up with to add the ambiance she was looking for. Cathleen had to stifle a laugh at the line of Wackos waiting for their turn to present their heroic recollections of the battle for posterity. Not turning away from the sight, Cathleen asked, ¡°How has she been presenting the facts?¡± Knight Angelton took a step forward to watch the spectacle alongside her. ¡°Exactly how you¡¯d expect. Lord Walker¡¯s sacrifice to close the portal along with his self-resuscitation. Considering how nobody can offer any explanation as to how he did it, she¡¯s making sure to highlight how impressive it was. The story she¡¯s telling has everything; dwarves, Populators, astral invaders, anything and everything a legend needs to take root. While part of me wants to condemn her for playing politics, I also can¡¯t deny that she¡¯s relaying exactly what happened. I can¡¯t even question her motivations as she truly believes everything she¡¯s saying.¡± Cathleen allowed herself a small smirk. ¡°That¡¯s the wonderful thing about fighting alongside a legendary figure before they become legends. We¡¯re now part of that legend, every one of us. What we accomplished here shouldn¡¯t have been possible. But, we did it. Having dwarven Battleborns show up alongside the Populators after it was all over was just validation for how incredible it was.¡± Turning to stare up at Knight Angelton, she added, ¡°You should feel proud. We saved not just the city, but a large portion of the Strates itself. We¡¯ll be remembered as heroes. Isn¡¯t this exactly the reason you signed up with House Walker? To fight the fights that need fighting, and to push yourself to your limits to advance your path?¡± Ever the pragmatist, Knight Angelton replied, ¡°I¡¯m sure I¡¯ll be sufficiently impressed with myself if and when we make it out of this mountain alive.¡± ¡ª-- After making their way through the unfamiliar hallways and floors, Vera led their group through the front doors of the Center into an area of the city Nero didn¡¯t recognize in the least. While much like the other Gates he¡¯d been in before, this one had its own style of architecture that made him feel like he¡¯d arrived in another country. Sure, there were similarities to what he¡¯d already seen, but it was definitely more ¡®rounded¡¯ than the other Gates he¡¯d visited. Almost every building was topped with a dome of some kind, and there were entirely too many arches in Nero¡¯s opinion. It¡¯s like whoever had been the architect for the area had been hell-bent on seeing exactly how many variations of a circle could be expressed before the people living here lost their minds. Nero considered asking about why the different areas of the city, which for some reason he still didn¡¯t fully understand were referred to as Gates, all looked so different. He might have heard why before, but he probably hadn¡¯t been listening at the time. Unfortunately, his typical source of information was currently in a heated debate with Jennings about ethereal waveforms or something. It also didn¡¯t help that the moment their little group left the Center there were carriages already waiting for them at the entrance. Only after being shuffled into his seat alongside Vera, with Jennings and Nick taking the opposite seats, did Nero make the logical leap of realizing that someone must have used their link to call for them. Looking across the carriage at Jennings and Nick, Nero wondered why he was feeling so annoyed at hearing them bickering so animatedly. He normally didn¡¯t mind hearing either of them discussing sciency stuff, or at least it didn¡¯t grate on him as much as it currently was. But something about the way they were so focussed on each other was pissing him off. ¡®Why hasn¡¯t the old man teleported off back to his tower? Jennings usually disappears when he¡¯s finished doing whatever he¡¯s shown up out of nowhere to do,¡¯ Nero thought to himself. In a rare bout of self-awareness, he recognized what the problem was. Nick was in many ways his best friend, and Jennings was something along the lines of a mentor for him. Seeing the two getting along without the focus of the conversation being about him¡­ he found it weird. Jennings was basically a work friend, while Nero and Nick¡¯s relationship was more personal. In the great words of the philosopher Costanza, ¡®Worlds were colliding¡¯. Turning his attention to Vera who was sitting alongside him, Nero thought about starting up a conversation of his own to distract himself. Unfortunately, she was currently staring out the window at the city. The link on her temple made it obvious she was currently in the middle of something. She also had that look on her face that women get after they¡¯ve successfully won some sort of social conflict. The same one he recognized from the time he and the girl he¡¯d been dating at the time ran into her ex. Specifically, the one she¡¯d had after remarking to him that her ex¡¯s new fiance was a bit on the chubby side. Or when his mom had returned in victory from meeting with the various clubs she used to run. It was the same look guys got after they triumphed over their friends in their community softball league. He¡¯d even used to see it in the mirror after he¡¯d spent an evening enjoying a winning streak on whatever favorite competitive console game he was into that month. Vera was obviously feeling quite happy with herself over how well she¡¯d played the Tower of Law, the military, and who knew how many other people Nero had no idea about. ¡®Good for her,¡¯ thought Nero before deciding to let her be. Turning his head to look out his own window, he let Nick and Jennings¡¯ conversation fade into the background as he took a moment to enjoy watching the city he¡¯d just saved from annihilation. It was hard for him to imagine that all these people had been at risk from what the kobalds had been doing. The mountain seemed so far away. In fact, everywhere he¡¯d been since he¡¯d arrived in this world seemed so far away. Back home, on Earth, it took leaving on vacation to get the feeling of being someplace else. He¡¯d go years experiencing almost the same things wherever he¡¯d gone. No matter where he was, he¡¯d see the same fast food chains he¡¯d recognized along with the same streetlights and the same convenience stores. Everything always looked pretty much the same wherever he was. Enjoying the story? Show your support by reading it on the official site. But here, everything was always so different. He¡¯d spent time in completely different environments, one day right after another. It was jarring. Here he was, riding in a carriage of all things through the middle of an unrecognizable part of the city, while just a few hours ago he was in the middle of a dark and dangerous mountain fighting lizard people. Had he been a lesser man, he¡¯d probably have lost his mind by now. The thought caused him to chuckle to himself silently as he watched people go about their day out through his window. Despite how much private contemplation he was indulging in, the trip to the teleporters was still faster than he¡¯d expected, and he soon found himself hopping down from the carriage along with everyone else. ¡°You shouldn¡¯t have any problems with anyone bothering you for a few days. So, feel free to enjoy your time at your estate. I¡¯ll check in with you when I have a better idea of what our next steps should be,¡± Vera said to Nero while dismissing all the people who¡¯d tagged along with her for support. Hearing what she¡¯d said, Nick chimed in to say, ¡°I¡¯ll contact you tomorrow to let you know when the testing facility will be ready for you. There are still a few things we need to analyze about your newfound condition. Be sure to note any abnormalities with your magic or anything of interest that stands out to you concerning your physical body.¡± Jennings, looking every bit the archmage he was, stared down at Nero imperiously while adding, ¡°And I¡¯ll be visiting your estate tomorrow to discuss a few things with you. Be sure to rest while you can, because there are quite a few meetings you won¡¯t be able to avoid in the near future.¡± After that, they sent him off through the teleporter to his estate, and Nero found himself arriving at the familiar pagoda entrenched teleporter pad he recognized from the last time he¡¯d been here. He didn¡¯t know how she knew he was coming, but that woman who¡¯d claimed to be his personal maid or something was waiting for him. Blinking away the last of the teleporter lights, Nero looked over at her and asked, ¡°Mrs. Davidson?¡± She replied quickly, ¡°Just ¡®Ms.¡¯, my lord. And it¡¯s ¡®Davis¡¯, not ¡®Davidson.¡¯¡± Nodding in confusion, Nero allowed himself to be ushered through the front gardens and into his estate. He listened quietly as she gave him an update on how his estate had been running, referring to several people he only half-remembered having met. Apparently, Mrs. Warren, who was his estate manager had successfully rehired enough people to get the estate back to full staff. She also said something about the kitchens that Nero didn¡¯t quite get. Meanwhile, Mr. Cochran, who Nero thought he remembered as being the guy who¡¯d been introduced to him as his butler, had finally finished acquiring Nero¡¯s new wardrobe. She also mentioned a few things about his training grounds and his household guard¡­ whatever that was. Nero felt like he¡¯d stepped into a period piece about 18th-century British nobility, and the feeling he¡¯d been having about being somewhere unfamiliar only grew worse. The moment he recognized the master bedchambers, he quickly stopped her from following him into the room, claiming that he needed a shower and a nap and that he¡¯d continue with whatever she was saying ¡®soonish¡¯. ¡°Will you be requiring anything special for your evening repaste, my lord?¡± she asked with a small smile. ¡°Uh¡­ No. Anything is fine. You can just bring it here. I¡¯ll be eating in my room tonight. Just wait like¡­ an hour. Yeah, an hour should be good. As I said, I¡¯ll be in the shower,¡± he replied while slowly closing the door in her face. Sighing in relief, he held the door closed with both hands while leaning against it and staring at the floor. As cool as it was to have a personal maid or whatever Ms. Davis was, it was also kind of exhausting. It was weird to come home from his adventure only to immediately receive an update on everything that had been happening while he¡¯d been gone. He felt like he finally understood that old trope about 1950s husbands getting pissed at their wives for bothering them right after having gotten home from the office. Even when he¡¯d lived with a woman or roommates, he¡¯d never experienced anything like this. Hell, the closest he¡¯d come was when he¡¯d lived with Sarah. She used to pelt him with updates about how her day had gone from the moment he walked in the door. But that wasn¡¯t all that different than how most of his male roommates had been either. The best roommate he¡¯d ever had was a guy named Patrick whom he¡¯d rarely ever spoken to. That dude knew how to give people space. Having finally recomposed himself, he walked off through the ridiculously large room toward the shower. He once again noted to himself how stupid it was to have so many couches all over the place. Muttering to himself, he said, ¡°At least Ms. Davis was talking about stuff that was remotely relevant to me. I probably should try and remember to listen more closely to her when she goes on like that.¡± Stripping off his clothes, he dropped them on the floor near the bathroom in a pile. He¡¯d also have to remember to ask her where he should leave them. While he normally wouldn¡¯t care, she¡¯d been so ¡®on the ball¡¯ with everything that he felt like he was living in a hotel. One that he not only owned, but was responsible for. He felt like he¡¯d be embarrassing himself by looking like a savage in front of the prim and proper woman. Shaking off the weird energy he was feeling, he took his time in the bathroom, enjoying his shower as best he could. By the time he finally walked back out into his bedchambers, he felt like all the stress he¡¯d been under had vanished into the ether. Rain showers were just as amazing as he¡¯d remembered, and the fluffy robe that had been waiting for him was worth all the pain and confusing nonsense he¡¯d had to put up with in order to earn it. Nearly jumping out of his skin, he was caught off guard by the sight of several people moving around the couches setting up something on one of the tables. Behind them stood Ms. Davis along with two other people he sort of recognized. They stood in a line and watched as the people arranged his meal before quickly shuffling off to the side of the room to arrange themselves in a line along the walls. Nero had no idea how he should be reacting, as he was still in nothing more than a robe and currently had a towel wrapped around his head because he¡¯d thought it looked like fun when he¡¯d seen it in the movies. Their well-coordinated dance had completed itself in no time, and he was left standing there in confusion not knowing how to proceed. The man to Ms. Davis'' right stepped forward, politely asking, ¡°Would my lord prefer to dine first, or get dressed?¡± Nero looked around the room at all the people who were patiently waiting for his answer. Several uncomfortable seconds passed before he said, ¡°Yeah¡­ this isn¡¯t going to work.¡± Various expressions of confusion flashed among everyone¡¯s faces as they tried to interpret what he¡¯d just said. Calmly pulling off the towel from his head and laying it gently over one of the wooden chairs, Nero walked over to the couch which must have arbitrarily chosen as the one where he¡¯d eat his meal for the day. ¡°You all must know that I have no idea how nobility is supposed to act here, so it shouldn¡¯t come as a surprise that I¡¯ll have my own way of doing things. And for one, I¡¯m not going to be getting dressed every day surrounded by people watching me. Sure, I¡¯ve pretty much gotten over any hangups I¡¯ve had about being seen naked by people, but that doesn¡¯t mean I enjoy it. This is my bedroom for God¡¯s sake!¡± Nero did his best to explain to them that he didn¡¯t need all of this pomp and circumstance and instead preferred privacy over efficiency. Surprisingly, it was the buttler guy who¡¯d caught on the quickest. He dismissed the staff and ushered them all out while Ms. Davis explained to Nero where he should place his ¡®soiled clothes¡¯ after he was finished with them. Which she took great pains to explain was ¡®anywhere¡¯. She did, however, offer him a side-eye while removing the wet towel from the back of the wooden chair where he¡¯d left it. All the while, the final lady in their group watched over everything with a look of amusement on her face. After a few awkward glances, Nero remembered that she must be Mrs. Warren, his estate manager. Despite not wanting to get dressed in front of everyone, he still ended up having to do so after Mr. Cochran took the time to show him where his closets were. All three of them got a good look at his naughty bits as he put on what could only be described as enchanted silk pajamas before he finally sat down to eat. Rather than allow them all to just stand there watching him eat, he ordered them to sit down and join him. Even with how tired he was, and how much he just wanted to eat and go to bed, he couldn¡¯t stop himself from trying to live up to their overly obvious expectations. So, while chewing on what he thought might be some variation of a club sandwich, he asked, ¡°Alright, so the estate is now up and running, and things are going well?¡± Luckily that was all it took for the tension he was feeling in the ether to dissipate and for them to return to normal. One by one, they made their reports with Nero trying his best to follow along. Nothing to him stood out as all that important, but he did his best to still look interested. However, in the back of his mind, he couldn¡¯t help wondering how much all of what they were talking about was costing him. He could only hope that his finances could afford their professionalism. When he was finished with his meal, they dismissed themselves faster than he would have expected them to. They must have used their links, because the moment he set aside his plate, the servants reentered the room and began clearing everything. They even collected his robes from where he¡¯d left them. Suddenly, he was alone in his room, feeling somewhat caught off guard by the overwhelming silence. This being a noble thing was definitely going to take some getting used to. He felt like what he assumed Lara Croft must feel like after coming back from whatever adventure she¡¯d been on to her own estate. The last meal he¡¯d had was a ration bar from his personal space, and now he was retiring to his harem-sized bed wearing these ridiculous teal pajamas. Luckily, sleep came easy to him after he was able to remember how to turn off the lights with his link. Who knew how many hours later, Nero woke up feeling refreshed. And whatever dreams he had mustn¡¯t have been all that important, because for once he couldn¡¯t remember them. A thought did occur to him that Ms. Davis might have been waiting in the room for him to wake up, causing him to shoot up into a sitting position to scan around the room for her. But, happily, he was still refreshingly alone. After taking another shower and enjoying his bathroom again, Nero got dressed in the new robes Mr. Cochran had acquired for him. He could tell that they were enchanted in the same way the ones Nick had lent him had been. Through his senses, he took a moment to probe them while wondering why he now had so many sets of them. If they were so easily cleaned, and able to change colors with just a little flex of his will, then why did he need more than one or two? Was it because of the different styles of cuts or whatever? After looking at himself in the mirror and nodding in appreciation of his reflection, he felt the door open across the room without warning. He didn¡¯t know for sure, but he expected Ms. Davis had probably been scrying him or something to know exactly when she should come in with his breakfast. Behind her came the servants, carrying his food on trays like they were performing a play. But, this time they simply dropped it all off before rushing off back through the door like good little minions. Nero couldn¡¯t help but feel a little conflicted. As a former minion himself, he didn¡¯t know whether or not he should have gone out of his way to find out their names and get to know them. He also really didn¡¯t want to, as he had a limited amount of power in his social batteries, and he knew it would be a waste of time. But, on the other hand, he didn¡¯t want to turn into one of those assholes who treated the staff like they didn¡¯t exist. There had to be a comfortable middle ground somewhere that he¡¯d end up finding eventually. He was brought out of his thoughts by Ms. Davis saying, ¡°Breakfast is served, my lord. You should know that Archmage Jennings is waiting for you in your study. He was not happy to hear that you were still sleeping. It also seems that the teleportation redirection wards Lady Verena had installed worked as intended and delivered him to the front foyer when he¡¯d arrived.¡± Nero couldn¡¯t help but chuckle at the thought of Jennings showing up somewhere he hadn¡¯t expected. While he hadn¡¯t known Vera had done that with the wards, he also wasn¡¯t surprised. Even a guy like Jennings would have trouble trying to outthink her. As he took his seat and dug into what seemed to him to be some sort of lime-green oatmeal, he listened as Ms. Davis continued talking. Without pausing to take a breath, she took her seat across from him after he silently gestured for her to join him. ¡°You should know though, that while the wards worked as intended, the archmage made it clear that he wouldn¡¯t be fooled by them again. He made a point to explain, in great detail, to Mrs. Warren that they had been a massive waste of valens. He further recommended something he referred to as a spell-bunker. When I left, Mrs. Warren and he were still in discussion over what creating one would entail,¡± she said while Nero ate his meal. She went on to rehash much of what Nero had already heard the day before, likely expecting him not to have been listening when she¡¯d told him. She had, of course, been right in that assumption. Although he had been listening, most of what she¡¯d said had gone in one ear and out the other without being recorded. That being said, Nero was lucky enough to recognize a few familiar topics to realize what she was doing. He didn¡¯t bust her on it though, as hearing it all again highlighted the importance of what she was saying. Instead, he just listened and did his best to understand how his estate actually functioned. All too soon, his meal was over and he was on his way to meet with Jennings. He did however get to enjoy the looks on the faces of his personal servants as held the door open for them when they came in to clear the table. It had taken him specifically asking Ms. Davis to wait until he was ready to summon them along with suffering the confused look on her face which seemed to be judging him, but it had been more than worth it. Seeing his personal staff¡¯s uncomfortable expressions brought a smile to his face, and he¡¯d gone out of his way to offer each of them an exaggerated nod of thanks as they passed him by out the door with his dishes. Chuckling to himself, he enjoyed the feeling of exasperation Ms. Davis was putting off into the ether as she led him through the halls to wherever Jennings was.